I don’t even want to speculate about what kind of people you are.
If you’re a genuine reader doing these things, then I think you’re brain-dead.
If you’re the author’s alt account pulling this crap, then I think you’re a pathetic loser who deserves to rot like a sewer rat.
If you’re a hired troll, then I hope every penny you earn goes toward buying your mother’s coffin.
As for the others lurking with alt accounts to stir the pot, I won’t even bother calling you out—you know who you are. Some money comes with a curse, and I fear you won’t even afford a coffin later.
Genuine critical reviews are easy to spot—they focus on plot and character flaws. But what is this nonsense you’re doing?
Since when do real readers have this much free time?
Pretty sure you’re the same person who reported me last time, huh?
Instead of wasting energy on this, why not put it into writing your own book? Why insist on being a rat? Seeing your antics at midnight is worse than spotting a rodent—it’s like watching a parade of ghouls.
The timing of your attacks is suspicious, all popping up a day ago, right when my stats started climbing. Couldn’t even bother changing your script? At least put some effort into your performance.
None of your “criticism” even appears in my comment section—you only dare to reply under others’ comments because it won’t show on your profile. How many authors have you sabotaged with these tricks?
And those alt accounts whose profiles are nothing but one-star reviews for new books? Yeah, I won’t even dignify that with an explanation.
I can accept honest criticism about flaws in this book, but I won’t tolerate you disgusting filth poisoning the experience for me and new readers.
Accusing me of hiring trolls? Hilarious. I’m too broke for that—I wouldn’t even know where to find people to brigade. Unlike you, who’s clearly a seasoned pro. If I could afford trolls, would I even be dealing with your garbage?
Even if you succeed in tanking my work, it won’t magically make your trash fire, rat-boy.
Sweating bullets at midnight watching someone else’s stats rise, huh?
Clutching your phone, green with envy?
Boo hoo, what’s the matter? You just can’t catch a break, can you? No matter how my book performs, at least I’m not a spineless rat. Did your mother never teach you better, or was the orphanage where the male lead grew up missing a resident?
A word of advice: karma’s a bitch. Try earning some decency, pal.
—Ranting to fill word count.
Ugh, still not at 1,000 words. So annoying. Haven’t been this pissed in ages.
Normally, I’d reflect on criticism to see where I can improve. I’ve taken a lot of flak upfront and adjusted my mindset. The male-oriented genre is new to me, and I’m open to feedback.
But this is a free story on Tomato Novels. You can offer suggestions, but acting like I murdered your whole family over a free book? That’s beyond my comprehension. Normal people can’t relate.
Maybe I’ve been spoiled by smooth sailing in female-oriented fiction for too long. Facing this kind of toxicity, it’s hard to stay calm. Midnight rage has me wishing for supernatural intervention.
Suddenly, it’s 4 AM, and I’m wide awake.
This book’s been targeted since its featured debut. After getting shadowbanned, the stats tanked. Just as traffic picked up on Sunday—with readers saying they found me through recommendations—along comes the book-test promo, and boom, the demons return. What did I even do to deserve this?
One more round of this, and I might quit. I’m exhausted. I don’t want my first Tomato book to end unfinished, though. I’ll try to push through.
Goodnight.
end. Thus one must continue to cultivate, and become a saint or great emperor, in order to prolong one's life. Chen Xia, however, completely reversed this. Since his transmigration, he has gained immortality, and also a system that awards him with attribute points for every year he lives. Thus between the myriad worlds, the legend of an unparalleled senior appeared. "A gentleman takes revenge; it is never too late even after ten thousand years." "When you were at your peak I yielded, now in your old age I shall trample on you." - Chen Xia
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
grated, and just when he finally managed to get into an elite academy, he discovered that he actually had a system, and the way to earn rewards was extremely ridiculous. So for the sake of rewards, he had no choice but to start acting ridiculous as well. Su Cheng: "It's nothing but system quests after all." But later, what confused Su Cheng was that while he was already quite ridiculous, he never expected those serious characters to gradually become ridiculous too. And the way they looked at him became increasingly strange... (This synopsis doesn't do it justice, please read the full story)
with countless casualties. As a top-tier gamer, Liu Xuan volunteered to join the fight, intending to dominate with his skills, but instead he obtained the hidden class: [Pacifist]. Unable to attack. Unable to use active skills. Fortunately, with each level gained, he acquired a new passive skill. And so, armed with a body full of passives, Liu Xuan slaughtered his way through the battlefield of ten thousand races! [You attacked Liu Xuan] [You gained the debuffs: 'Poison', 'Fear', 'Burning', 'Bleeding', 'Freeze', 'Silence', etc.] [Your attack speed has been reduced by 99%] [Your armor and magic resistance have been reduced by 99%] Warriors of the Ten Thousand Races: How the hell am I supposed to fight this?!
