### The Reviews
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*? 1 Star*
*"Author fuck u ?? for writing trash."*
*? 1 Star*
*"Trash novel ???"*
*? 1 Star*
*"Are u a little kid? Even a kid can write a better novel ??."*
*? 1 Star*
*"This is the worst poison I''ve ever read in history! Ah, my eyes ??. And it has only 20 chapters! Don''t let this author cook, guys—let''s make it a 1-star novel!"*
> *Reply to comment :* *"True, I already gave it 1 star from 10 different accounts. This is absolute poison, and it can be used as a prank against your friends."*
> > *Reply to comment inside comment :* *"Agreed."*
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Caseo sat slumped in a creaky chair in his dimly lit room. The only illumination came from the glaring blue glow of his computer screen, highlighting the sweat beading on his pale white skin. His brown hair was unkempt, flattened under a dark hoodie that cast shadows over his broad face. His scraggly beard seemed to bristle with the frustration contorting his expression. Black eyes scanned the screen, bloodshot from endless hours of typing and glaring at the monitor.
The desk in front of him was a chaotic battlefield: empty takeout boxes, crumpled napkins, and a greasy plate jostled for space with a half-empty bottle of "Oca Ola" and an untouched packet of chips. Grease stains smudged his keyboard as his fingers hammered angrily at the keys. The occasional crunch of chips or a swig from the soda punctuated his manic typing.
"Fuck you! If you didn''t like it, then why the hell did you read it?" He slammed his fist on the desk, shaking the empty cans and papers. His hoodie slipped further over his head, but he didn''t care. Caseo leaned closer to the screen, his face illuminated by the icy glow of the monitor. His fingers clattered furiously on the keyboard as he typed a reply to the latest insult. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
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*Caseo''s Replies:*
>*"Fuck your mom."*
>*"Why don''t you write one, you fucking son of a bitch?"*
>*"Then why don''t you let your kid write it, you bitch?"*
>*"Trash? You''re trash!"*
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Each keystroke hit like a hammer as he poured his anger into the replies. His shoulders shook with frustration, and his eyes narrowed. After finishing his latest tirade, he leaned back, breathing heavily, and grabbed the bottle of "Oca Ola" from the table. Twisting the cap off with a faint hiss, he took a long swig.
"Finally, all done," he muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "These guys think I wrote poison? They don''t understand how much time it took."
Just as he was about to relax, his computer chimed with fresh notifications. The comments section exploded with replies. His gaze sharpened as he opened the first one.
**"This is absolutely trash. For this, I''m sending you into your own novel to make it better."**
Caseo''s fingers froze above the keyboard. His eyes darted back to the screen. "Fuck you, bitch. Do you think this is a joke? Sending me into my own novel?!" His voice rose, echoing through the dark room.
But as he leaned forward to type more insults, a sharp, searing pain shot through his chest.
"Ugh… what the hell…" he gasped, clutching at his heart. The bottle of "Oca Ola" slipped from his hand, spilling its sticky contents across the desk. His vision blurred, and his breaths became shallow. He tried to stand but stumbled back into his chair, gripping the edge of the desk for support.
"F…fuck…" he wheezed, his voice weak and trembling. His massive frame quivered as the pain intensified. His hands clawed at his hoodie, his face twisted in agony. Slowly, his body slumped back into the chair, his eyes staring blankly at the screen.
The final notification glowed on the monitor, mocking him in his last moments.
*"Welcome to your novel, Caseo. Let''s see if you can survive your own poison."*
Caseo''s fingers twitched one last time before going still, his lifeless body sinking into the chair. The computer screen continued to glow, its light illuminating the silent chaos of the room.