Mystery: From the Shadow World

Chapter 62 Novel
At noon, Philip finished his lunch at the hotel and returned to his room. He put several best-selling novels beside the bed and then took off the "silver" ring.

"Whoo~"

After returning to its original appearance, Philip looked at the "silver white" lying in his palm, shook his head, and said with a hint of helplessness: "I thought it would be easy to use after getting used to it, but I didn't expect it to increase the side effects."

Through these days of adaptation, he has gradually adapted to his identity as Jane Charlotte, his short body, his fair and smooth skin, and even does not show any abnormality when communicating with others.

But this also means that the barrier to this in his subconscious mind has become increasingly smaller, and in the future, perhaps only a slight negligence will cause him to fall into the abyss of loss of control and madness under the influence of the ring.

Just think of it as a special play of the "prisoner" route, it's not much different. Philip collapsed on the bed, using his comedic skills to make himself feel a little better so as not to disturb the subsequent appreciation of the novel.

He specifically selected four:

"Vanci Horror Fiction Collection", "Stormwind Heights", "The Return of the Count", "Romeo and Juliet"

The first two were created by people in this world, allowing Philip to roughly guess the readers' preferences and preferences, as well as the acceptable level, to avoid overdoing it and causing counterproductive results.

The latter two are the two books that Russell plagiarized. The former at least changed its name, and the latter even used the original text directly. It is possible that after plagiarizing once, he became bolder and didn't care about these small things.

He planned to see what fine-tuning this senior time traveler had done, or whether he had just released it without caring about anything, so that he could have a reference.

However.
The dim afterglow of the setting sun shone through the window and fell on the floor of the room. Philip had already roughly finished reading the last page of the last book.

He propped himself up, took a deep breath for more than ten seconds, then gently placed the four books on the bedside table. He then leaned back with his head tilted back, sinking completely into the soft quilt, and sighed with a hint of helplessness.

It's too abstract.

It's really too abstract.

Philip originally thought that the stories he had seen in elementary school, such as "The Miracle Doctor Comes Down the Mountain", "The Return of the God of War", and "The Dragon King's Son-in-law", were enough to waste his life. Unexpectedly, in this slightly backward world similar to the Victorian era, he discovered something heavyweight.

What kind of horror collection is this? To be honest, it may be more popular among children than adults. I originally thought that the indirect descriptions, euphemistic and implicit, and terrifying writing style in the beginning were the successor of Mr. Luo, and I began to look forward to the climax.

Turns out, he overthought it.

As for Stormwind Heights, Philip originally thought that the author was Charlotte Bronte from another world, but it turned out that the author had transformed herself into a female-oriented quick-travel writer with a wild imagination.

The only two things worth praising are the excellent characterization and portrayal, and the fact that the writing style does not feel abrupt but flows very smoothly as it transitions from romance to supernatural to mystery and finally back to romance.

But overall it's still fucked.

What moved Philip the most during this process was that Russell, the senior time traveler, made almost no changes to what he copied, allowing him to make up for the classics he had not read on Earth in this alien world.

Even the fact that he was able to persevere in reading was due to the other person's two books.

After figuring out the general situation, Philip gained confidence. He immediately got out of bed, sat on a chair, opened the notebook he had prepared long ago, and wrote slowly and steadily on the cover page with a fountain pen. As for what to copy, he had already thought about it.

"The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes"!
When Philip discovered that Emperor Russell had plagiarized many literary works but omitted this well-known detective, he decided to present the great detective Sherlock Holmes to the people of this world.

Although Jane Charlotte only graduated from a grammar school and has nothing to do with detective work, this phenomenon is not uncommon in the current literary circles. After all, as long as the writing is superficial and readers do not feel there is anything wrong with it, it is fine.

Not to mention Philip, even Conan Doyle himself certainly did not have as high an IQ and knowledge as the characters he designed.

However, the other party perfectly avoided the problem that "the IQ of the characters created by the author is not higher than the author's own IQ" by making Holmes' knowledge extremely narrow and tricky, and writing the whole book from Watson's perspective.

While Philip was thinking this, he suddenly stopped writing, looked at the handwriting in the notebook that had no feminine style at all, and fell silent.

After a while, with nothing to do and having to suppress the restless emotions caused by the influence of the "Madman" potion, he could only continue writing at his desk. At the same time, he made up his mind to rewrite these things on the typewriter.

Now write out the outline and the specific context first. If you really can't remember it clearly, use dream divination a few more times. You can always come up with something from the blurry mosaic-like image. If that doesn't work, just write it yourself.

Driven by the tip of the pen, the ink gradually outlined coherent and orderly words on the white paper. Philip's eyes and attention were also focused on the notebook in front of him, completely forgetting his restless heart due to sitting for a long time.

Gradually, the inexplicable negative emotions in my mind weakened, and the restlessness in my heart gradually subsided. It was like a beast that had completely exhausted all its strength in a cage, and it lay back down unwillingly and helplessly.

During this process, the digestion progress of the "Madman" potion was increasing and extending bit by bit at an almost imperceptible speed.

And because the extraordinary characteristics served as the main material for promotion, the new "prisoner" characteristics accumulated in the body were also digested again.

In the blink of an eye, time passes.

July 7th, Monday morning.

Philip, who had spent most of his time in the hotel room, stretched out in the pale sunlight. Feeling that the "madman" potion was only a little bit away from being digested, he was no longer anxious.

He curled his lips and looked at the notebook on the table. He subconsciously pinched the back of his neck twice, then sighed helplessly, "I'd better go out for a walk, otherwise my cervical spine will have problems."

As he said this, Philip changed into a brown coat and beige mid-length trousers, then took out the "Silver White" from his pocket and put it on with a little trepidation.

After the usual sting, Philip turned into Jane Charlotte again, pushed the door open and walked out of his room, followed the receptionist and many guests who were accustomed to it, and came to the small restaurant at the end of the street which was not too high-end.

After ordering a cup of coffee for 1 penny and two pieces of bread and butter for 3 pence, she sat in the corner, chewing the bread calmly and looking at the bustling scene outside the window where many pedestrians were busy working.

After an unknown amount of time, she withdrew her gaze, took the last bite of bread, drank the coffee in the cup, stood up, and walked straight out.

There is also a party at the Brave Bar tonight. I wonder if I can sell the recipe this time.

(End of this chapter)