Chapter 2: A Bookstore Beyond the Veil
Abid couldn't take his eyes off the floating interface.
Twelve copies.
Three comments.
Three people—beings, perhaps—had opened the manga pages he'd drawn, studied the expressions he had labored over, followed Light Yagami's descent into moral madness through Abid's personal reinterpretation.
And they liked it enough to leave feedback.
The system chimed again, this time more gently.
Reader Feedback Summary (Eloria Booktide Branch):
• "Gripping and strange. A god of death and a clever mortal... I could not stop reading."
• "The drawings are like spell-paintings. The boy with the sharp eyes frightens me. But I want more."
• "My daughter read it aloud. We stayed up past candlelight curfew. Who is this 'Abid'?"
Abid's hand went slack. He let the phone rest on the table as he stared at the interface in a quiet daze.
This wasn't Earth.
These weren't bots or anonymous usernames throwing emojis at a panel.
These were real people in a different world—reading by candlelight, reacting with wonder, frightened and fascinated by ideas that were completely new to them.
He stood up and paced slowly across the room, half-afraid he'd suddenly wake from a dream.
Was he hallucinating? Delirious from too many nights without sleep?
No, this was real. As real as anything else he could touch.
And yet... it was impossible.
He stopped by the window and looked out over the familiar skyline of Dhaka—crowded buildings, corrugated rooftops, rusted satellite dishes like fossilized flowers. Morning smog hung heavy above the waking city.
But for the first time in years, this view didn't feel like a cage.
It felt like the ground floor of something larger.
---
The system's "Inventory" menu blinked softly in the corner of his vision, drawing his attention again. He tapped it, half-curious.
Inventory: Starter Rewards Unlocked
* Portable Lightboard (Tier 1)
* Ink Essence (x3)
* Workspace Upgrade Voucher (Basic)
* Storyseed Token (Locked)
* Tool Credit Balance: 1,000
He read through the list slowly.
Portable Lightboard: A glowing slate-like surface, thin as paper, with built-in alignment guides and pressure-sensitive support. Better than his current budget tablet.
Ink Essence: Described as an alchemical enhancement—"improves ink flow and visual clarity, reduces hand fatigue."
Workspace Upgrade Voucher: Applicable to his room. The system promised "minor spatial expansion and ambient stabilization."
It read like fantasy, but everything so far had worked.
Abid selected the workspace voucher.
A brief shimmer rippled through the air like heat off summer pavement. His small drawing nook—barely large enough for a desk, lamp, and chair—suddenly felt less cramped. The walls hadn't moved, but the air was lighter, cooler, clearer. The stale humidity was gone, replaced by a subtle scent—like paper and cedar.
He touched his desk.
Cooler. Smoother.
A small plaque had appeared on the side:
[Artist's Nook: Tier 1 – Calibrated for Focus and Flow]
He sat down and picked up his pen instinctively. The moment he touched the page, the nib glided like never before. Lines obeyed. Shadows fell perfectly.
He could *breathe* while drawing.
---
By afternoon, he uploaded two more chapters from his Death Note reimagining. The system reported instant success.
More readers. More coins.
He earned another 64 Gold by sunset. It wasn't much in Earth money, but the feeling—that what he made was being *seen*—was priceless.
Then, without warning, a new option appeared in the main interface:
Visit Storefront (Observation Mode – Read-Only)
Abid's heart skipped.
He selected it.
The screen brightened, and then the world changed.
He wasn't standing anymore.
He wasn't in his room.
He was somewhere else.
---
Stone walls. Wooden beams. Soft candlelight. The musty scent of parchment and ink.
He stood—transparent, unseen—in a cozy, old-fashioned bookstore.
Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with scrolls, thick tomes, and leather-bound novels in languages he didn't recognize. A spiral staircase led to a second floor balcony lined with reading nooks. Stained glass windows filtered daylight into colored patterns across the floor.
There was warmth. Not just physical heat, but a human warmth.
Footsteps echoed faintly.
A girl with silver-blonde hair and a gray smock walked between the shelves, holding a large black volume—his manga.
She stopped near a counter where a kindly older woman was rearranging books. "Miss Thalia," the girl whispered excitedly, "is there going to be another one of these? I need to know what happens to Light. He's not a hero, is he?"
The woman smiled. "He's... something else entirely. The way he thinks, the choices he makes—this 'Abid' gives us much to ponder."
The girl clutched the book to her chest. "Do you think he's real? The writer, I mean?"
"Every writer is real," Thalia said. "Even if they live across the stars."
Abid swallowed a sudden knot in his throat.
He wanted to laugh. To cry. To shout, *I'm here! I'm real!* But no sound came from his mouth. He was only observing.
Still, he had seen enough.
The vision faded. His room returned.
His breath trembled. For a long time, he didn't move.
Then he wiped his face, smiled quietly to himself, and opened his sketchbook again.
He had work to do.
---
System Notification:
Milestone Unlocked: First 100 Gold Earned
Rewards:
• 1 x Storyseed Token
• System Feature: "Cross-World Catalog" unlocked
A new iconappeared.
Abid tapped the "Cross-World Catalog" and a list opened—half marketplace, half index.
Titles appeared, most unfamiliar, many marked as "Folklore," "Fairy Myth," or "Local Drama." Abid scrolled through tales of elemental guardians, sky-faring sailors, goblin chefs, and desert-born priests who painted the future.
This was their world's imagination.
What if I adapted one of these? he thought.
And then a bolder idea emerged.
What if I made something original—not Earth manga—but a story inspired by both our worlds?
The thought scared him.
But for the first time in years, that fear felt like wind beneath his wings.