I only wanted to retire, but I ended up becoming an extremely popular character.

The additional ability is called "Berklein's Egg".

"The Egg of Berkley?"

Zod repeated softly, his brow furrowed slightly.

He seemed to have vaguely heard this term in the anime series "Empire".

The instructor looked into the distance, his tone calm yet carrying a certain weight: "You will meet them on the battlefield later; they are a group of people with special abilities."

"The price of being possessed by the 'Egg of Berklein' is the permanent loss of 10% of one's maximum potential. In exchange, one gains the favor of the egg and new abilities."

"Permanently losing 10% of one's potential limit is not just 10%; it means that the body of the 'Beckley's Egg' host will never be able to unleash 100% of its potential, nor will it ever reach 100% perfection."

"In the future, you will have the opportunity to obtain the 'Egg of Berklein.' Please take this heavy price seriously. Is the new ability of the 'Egg of Berklein' worth the permanent loss of 10% of your potential limit?"

Zod nodded thoughtfully, keeping his instructor's words in mind.

He had seen all sorts of ability users in the anime series, but unfortunately, his understanding of the plot and setting of "Empire Rising" was very limited, and he inexplicably traveled to this world.

To date, he has not encountered a host of the "Becklein's Egg" in reality.

"Perhaps it's because I'm still just a nobody and haven't yet had the chance to experience that level of combat."

He smiled bitterly to himself: "Otherwise, I might be instantly killed the moment we meet."

The popularity system didn't provide Zod with much help until he accumulated enough popularity points in the early stages.

After processing the barrage of information from the instructor, Zod took a deep breath and cleared his mind of distractions.

He pulled himself back to reality, his eyes refocusing: "Instructor! I'm ready. May we begin training?"

The instructor's face remained expressionless, only nodding slightly: "Anytime is fine."

Special training for Zod begins!

……

……

As night fell, the lights were still on in Hitis's house.

She hunched over her desk, her quill pen gliding across the paper, sometimes pausing in thought, sometimes writing rapidly, the table piled high with various novels.

After a long time, she finally put down the quill pen, her fair and slender fingers stained with ink.

Picking up the piece of paper covered in writing, she brought it close to her lips and carefully blew away the still-wet ink.

He then carefully packed the stack of manuscripts into a sealed bag, put it in a drawer, turned off the oil lamp, and finally lay back down on the bed, satisfied, and drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Hitis changed into a pink dress, took a sealed bag, and went to Hummingbird Books in Goldberg.

Hitis carefully observed the editor's expression. She noticed that the editor's face changed from oily to slightly furrowed brows, and then to a completely contorted expression, as if the editor had swallowed a fly.

I flipped through the manuscripts faster and faster, until I didn't even look at the later ones in detail.

The editor looked up, his gaze behind his glasses scrutinizing: "Did you write this yourself?"

"Yes." Hitis nodded nervously, her fingertips unconsciously tightening their grip on the hem of her skirt. "So? Will it be approved?"

The editor gently pushed the manuscript back in front of Hitis: "Your writing is fine, but your plot design is lacking. I'm sorry, your novel does not meet our publishing house's acceptance criteria."

"Could you be more specific about what shortcomings there are in the plot of my novel?" Hitis asked earnestly.

The editor said unhurriedly, "My evaluation might be a bit direct, if you don't mind..."

"I have a very strong mentality, so feel free to give your opinion!" Hitis thought to herself, her carefully designed plot couldn't be too bad.

After all, the novel's plot incorporates some real-world events.

"In short, your novel is a bit like a baboon dancing ballet." The editor placed his fingers on the table.

"You wrote about the romance between a noblewoman and an imperial lieutenant against the backdrop of war."

"But the female lead's character is hollow and lacks charm."

"The male lead, on the other hand, fawns over the female lead without any real motivation, and unconditionally accepts all sorts of, even somewhat rude, requests from her."

"The character was supposed to be a brave and fearless Imperial lieutenant in the story, but they've forced you to be portrayed as an Imperial stallion."

"In the real world, if a man like that appeared, the female lead would probably have to be extra careful."

The editor paused, took a sip of tea, and said, "Every character in the novel should be like a living, breathing person."

"They have their own lives, habits, goals, joys and sorrows, and their actions must be driven by reasonable motives. Otherwise, they are just puppets on strings."

The editor looked up and saw that Hitis's face was flushed red from her cheeks to her ears, and her tone softened a bit:

"Those words may be harsh, but please don't be too discouraged. Your writing is actually quite good, even better than many other contributors."

"After all, even the most talented novelist's first manuscript is most likely to be a pile of shit, so there's nothing to be ashamed of."

"If you put more effort into focusing your writing on character development and plot design, I believe you will definitely make progress."

The editor's sharp comments almost made Hitis find a hole to crawl into.

She never expected that her painstakingly written novel would be criticized as so worthless.

Hitis, her face as red as a monkey's bottom, pursed her lips and retrieved her manuscript from the table:

"Thank you for the editor's suggestion. I will carefully consider the questions you raised. I'll take my leave now."

Although Hitis knew that the editor's suggestions were all very pertinent, hearing such sharp advice in person still made her feel wronged and want to cry.

It's so embarrassing. I've never been this pathetic, not even on the battlefield.

She just wanted to leave as soon as possible.

"We look forward to your next submission," the editor said gently from behind her.

Hitis nodded, took her novel manuscript, and hurriedly left Hummingbird Novel Publishing House.

On the way, Hitis kept recalling what her editor had said: "The characters in a novel should have their own lives, habits, goals, joys, sorrows, and emotions..."

The male protagonist, an Imperial lieutenant, in her novel was modeled after Zod.

However, she didn't know much about Zod; she had no idea about his daily life, his habits, what he pursued, or what he fought for...

She knew nothing about any of this.

Perhaps that's why the characters she created became pale and empty puppets.

Throughout the journey, she kept thinking about this question: how could she make Lieutenant Zod, whom she was writing about, feel like a living, breathing character, rather than a puppet?

Hitis recalled her first meeting with Zod, their bet, and the man who rescued her from the darkness of despair during their final battle in Clock Tower.

Back in her room, Hitis discarded all the original manuscripts. She picked up her pen, buried it in her desk, and rewrote a manuscript based on the image of Zod in her mind.

But looking back, it still didn't satisfy her.

So she crumpled it into a ball and threw it on the ground.

Frustrated and unable to find any inspiration, Hitis left her room to go outside for a walk.