It was Ben's last meal…
Half a bean burrito he saved from the day before…
Yet, he didn't have time to contemplate the ironic overtone…because he still had something to do. It was the last item on his agenda of preparing to die—writing his own eulogy…
So, sitting at his desk, he wiped off the tangy sour cream from his lips. It wasn't the last thing he wanted to taste and smell, but he couldn't afford to pay extra for guacamole…
Then, he took out a piece of paper, feeling its dry texture on his fingers…
Then, he took out another piece of paper, because he got sour cream on the first one…
And he started to Hemingway…
***
After many hours of effort, Ben looked at the paper in his hands and nodded in satisfaction. He didn't need the credit of bringing this beautiful work into existence...Nor did he care if his fame came postmortem. He even didn't mind if someone else took the credit for his Shakespearean work…
He cared not about any of those things…because death…
Soon, he'd be humble and dirt-rich…
So those things lacked importance. Ben didn't write it for any of that. There was a much simpler reason he wrote his own eulogy: he feared Antonio screwing it up…
The final piece ended up as a story--the tale of Ben's life, with a few small adjustments to hook readers, but nothing biographical movies didn't do.
He decided to read it aloud to double-check there were no plot holes or cliches...but he was pretty confident in its freshness...
If there was an issue, he could add some vampires...or make himself a mage instead of warrior...but he didn't want to scare away readers with something too unique...
Ben cleared his throat...
"He was a young hero from the mortal world…from the poorest family…of the smallest village…of the smallest town…of the smallest city…of the smallest province…of the smallest country…of the smallest continent…of the smallest realm…but every legend has to start from somewhere…
...
He had a tough upbringing: one guy called him trash, then another guy called him trash. Before he knew it…everyone was calling him trash in an infinite recycle...
...
He started from nothing…
No matter how many times he dreamed…there was no memory from a dead expert…
No matter how many times he asked doctors…they said he possessed no special bloodline…
No matter how hard he searched, he couldn't find any OP item left by his parents…and that never changed, no matter how many Christmases he asked for a gaming PC…
…
Even then…despite his household coming from a humble background, it turned out to all be a red herring…because they had no ancestral ties to any ancient families at all…
…
He trained hard, practicing both internal and external training: internal with PUBG on his PC…external PUBG on his mobile…
When he was at the peak of the early-middle-upper stage of his cultivation, also known as 11th grade, he encountered a bottleneck: college exams…
Yet, after struggling through a heavenly tribulation of a prep course, he broke through….
Then, with an adventurous heart, he started to journey the world. It forced him to leave his family behind, but he trusted they'd be safe forever due to the powerful local reputation he amassed over a month of faceslapping…
If anyone from outside the village ever came and disturbed his legend, putting a finger on his family…he would destroy them when he returned just in time for the rescue…
…
In the wide lands, he succeeded in raising his position in society…and he did it all by himself…despite the worst luck in the world…that forced him to live as a mortician, making him fall into cave after cave of burial sites of old geezers…
...
Carrying those geezers' ancient burdens they called legacies...he became a brave hero; Despite a 99% chance of death, he never stood down from an optional side-quest…conquering all in his way with his relentless spirit…
He fought the external world; defeating enemies that trained their entire lives, after he did a few months of plyometrics…
He fought the internal world; defeating his heart devils—addictions to gaming and internet p.o.r.n…
He was multi-talented; becoming a secret master in every field known to man…but always lost interest soon after…because his fiery heart craved adventure and that was old news...
He was resourceful; only occasionally receiving an item that was exactly what he needed for his next major problem…and rarely, like only a few times, saved by a random passing master…
He was a poet; possessing the unique ability to portray the world's beauty through his unique lens of jade-based terminology…
He was a lady-killer; not in the literal sense, he didn't kill women…no matter what they did…ever… Instead, all his female enemies became lovers, charmed by his damn-good looks and badassery…
Yet, he could never fall in love with them, because he knew life was short, and at any moment, some random flying bird might force him to switch maps…
...
He was magnanimous; sparing all his male enemies 3 or even 4 times before eliminating them…giving them room to perfect their schemes...and himself room for not having to seek out new enemies…
He was a conqueror of fate: Despite living in training montages and gathering all the world's OPness…all the side characters still mysteriously strengthened as well…never allowing him to power creep in peace…
Yet, he was still the strongest...everywhere...before he went somewhere new and became the weakest...but that never-ever stopped him from becoming the strongest again...forever...
...
He was intelligent; resolving nothing ever, because he knew if he even resolved a single point, that meant it was the end of his story…
He was the most powerful: he invented uncountable ultimate and super-ultimate moves…before creating his final super-ultimate-burrito-supreme technique...
A technique that shocked the world—death…
…
In the end, he built a castle millions of miles long…stretching to the clouds…
Which is where he will be buried…
Don't skimp..."
…
Ben smiled in appreciation. It wasn't easy to create such a masterpiece…only having come together after a long time writing and no time editing…
...
Still, something felt off. 'Although I tried to keep it humble…it still came off a tiny bit OP… I better insert a flaw to make myself more balanced…Got it. I'll add that I scored low on an IQ test due to a random proctor's mistake when I was 5. That led to the tragic years until I was 9…when the truth came out that I was a one in ten-thousand years genius…
I'll even throw in an enemy that's a one in hundred-thousand-years genius later, to show that I still had room to grow...
Of course, after that, it'll come out that I was a one in million-years-genius…but for now, I need to ease them in…'
Ben stroked his chin, because he realized something else. He only needed to throw in a few lines of filler to grow this into a full-fledged novel…
...
'If I throw in a school arc, a tournament arc, a little fatty friend, and some c.o.c.kroach villains…I could squeeze this out to 1000 chapters…'
…
Ben leaned back in his chair. 'If I published this…I wonder how long it would take to get to the top of the web novel rankings…'