"The scum author sat, in the middle of the night, in front of his computer and read the hate comments of his blackened readers. Ah, he loved these twisted and hateful comments so much. He got off to it."

Eric looked with worry at Van. Was there... perhaps something wrong with Van's head?

"Then the writer god appeared-"

If there really was a writer god, then Eric would've strangled him with his scum aura from a trillion km distance already.

"Heard the prayers of the blackened readers abused by the scum author-"

Suddenly Eric shuddered. This uncannily described him. The only difference was that Eric was a scum editor abusing his authors. Although Eric didn't know why he hated authors so much. It was just embedded into his soul, etched into his very bones and flooded like blood in his veins.

"So this scum author had to transmigrate to witness what bullshit he wrote. Scum author chuckled at his readers' misfortune, got up and headed to the bathroom. Bang. Bam. The Scum author died. By slipping on his own pee-"

Very unfortunate.

Eric liked the fate this scum author had. Which author, which person got off at hate comments?

What fuckery was that? But this time, another feeling slowly crawled into Eric's mind. This story reminded him of something. It was eerily familiar but Eric just couldn't figure out what it was. This kind of deceiving memory was frightening. Eric suddenly felt like he had to question his whole identity.

Eric quickly skinned himself like a snake and left the previous him with all of those weird thoughts behind before his new self with a new mindset, untainted, listened to the rest of Van's story. When it came to an end, everyone started to ask questions.

"Younger bro, what a fascinating story!" Fil roared with laughter while Van only growled in annoyance and moved a bit away from Fil. Van really didn't seem like Fil.

"Fourth Prince, it's interesting," Lyna's melodic voice calmed the chaotic atmosphere, "What genre is it? I don't think transmigrating is its own genre, right teacher?"

Before Eric could answer, a word shot faster than piss hitting the bowl froze everyone, "Comedy."

"Oh," Lyna only smiled.

Comedy? That was comedy? Eric was honestly shocked. A- by the fact that Van wanted to write comedy.

B- That that was supposedly comedy, well it had elements that had potential but Van's writing style techniques were just bad and

C- the most shocking reason was that apparently all the other equally bad writers suddenly gained enlightenment to see this trash story!

Like how? Just seconds ago they were oblivious to their own trash stories but now they could pinpoint one from afar without batting an eye and discerning it wasn't comedy? Eric swore he thought that their reactions were praising what wasn't there, just like all the fucking time previously!

So why did they grow brains all of a sudden? Brains couldn't sprout like persistent weeds that didn't even need water, sun and fertiliser! It was impossible. Eric thought.

Eric thought hard. He thought so hard that indeed millions of tiny brains shot out of his brain like weeds until his mind was blown. Could it be that the story of the scum author was just so trash that it cured others' trash perception?

The scum author was universally accepted as the lowest of the low?

As a fellow scum, Eric was incredibly irritated by this and felt called out. No, he had to guide Van to write the most badass scum character so that everyone wanted to become a scum just like him and that author.

Eric had to make sure of it. This poor scum author. Eric suddenly held pity for him.

"Van, like everyone already said, it's an intriguing premise and idea. There's huge potential for comedy but now I don't see any of it. Has anyone laughed or even yourself? If you don't find your own stuff funny, if you don't laugh out loud at what you've written while rereading, then consider it a failure. Practise more and test it on others."

Eric's advice was sincere but unfortunately was met with an audible, "Tsk."

"Van, be nice," Lav reminded Van but Nol grinned, "Good boy, Van."

Van didn't say anything. Not because he didn't like what he heard or hated his brothers, in fact, it was because he admired his two older brothers the most that he was conflicted who to listen to. So, in the end, Van was neither nice nor mean to Eric.

Eric burnt inside at the prickly attitude but outside he seemed like a generous saint, "It's ok. The more you practise, the better it'll be."

See how benevolent I am to glance over your bratty comment pretending I didn't hear about it? I'm truly too good for all of you. Eric once again deluded himself.

But he was still shocked over the fact that that moody prickly wanted to be a comedy author. It didn't mesh! It didn't mesh at all!

However, Eric was just glad that the torture was finally over. He clapped his hands once to get everyone's attention and said, "Good. Now that we more or less got to know each other. I hope you'll eagerly prepare for the next lesson. Please write down feedback I've given you and for the next lesson write a self-evaluating paper with what you think is wrong and good about your story. Hand it in and I'll give you more feedback. And also give me an outline of minimum 1 page and max 3."

After Eric finished, he excused himself only to dash like the wind towards his room. Eric needed to rest and get away from these parasites students who latched onto him and sucked his blood, energy and sanity out.

But once Eric turned into the hallway with the bedroom, he almost bumped into a person. Surprised Eric took a step backwards but missed and fell on the ground as he looked up, he received the shock of his life!

B-Black... Black b-big... wings!

A pair of black wings blocked his view. What the fuck? The winged person looked down at Eric in disdain, "Mr Eric," his politeness was laced with a trace of indignity? As if he couldn't believe he had to lower himself to talk to Eric,

"I'm Mak. The Demon Lord's butler and assistant. I'm here to tell you that the Demon Lord wishes to see you. After every lesson, you are to go and report back to him. As soon as you can head to his chamber. Have you understood, Mr Eric?"

Mak's voice was hostile as his eyes narrowed at Eric. Eric still was dazed over the fact that the most demon-like person was the butler. Were the lower ones more like demons while the higher ones could adopt the appearance of a human? Eric gulped at the wings that didn't retract and only nodded at Mak who licked his lips.

HIC!

Eric didn't want to be eaten. Mak was dangerous.