Author notes: Please share and recommend this work, or vote for it on topwebfiction. If you can’t wait for more and want to support the series, purchase the full, reworked edition on Amazon today!

I will also be creating a post soon for a running status update that will be stickied to the top of the main page. This will detail my current status for the completion of End Online Volume 7.

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The Reeds’ home was a two story townhouse with only tiny courtyards for a front and backyard, seemingly indistinct from all the others houses that were crammed together nearly wall to wall. This was an inevitable result of land being spliced over and over again, but it also kept homes within the price range of the standard worker, leading to a large popularity in them in the modern day.

The paint on the face of the home was cracked and faded, the previously painted color viewable in some patches altogether. The garden was barren, the plants sickly and even weeds struggling to grow in the soil.

What was strange was not that the house was weathered, it was that it was weathered significantly more than every other residence in the area.

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Author notes: Please share and recommend this work, or vote for it on topwebfiction. If you can’t wait for more and want to support the series, purchase the full, reworked edition on Amazon today!

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Senna sat behind an antiquated wooden desk in a classroom with 27 others behind similar desks. Her desk was a window seat where the afternoon sun shone across half her desk in a warm yellow glow.

Rather than appreciating the ideal seat for gazing out the window and across the school grounds, she was instead irritated.

She shifted her e-ink notebook out of the sunlight in annoyance as the sun made it impossible for her to read on it properly.

“…Cheap rubbish,” The fae girl muttered under her breath.

The e-ink display was fine and could be seen perfectly fine even in direct sunlight, but the school notebooks were the cheapest kind possible and the heat from the direct sunlight caused it to not be able to track her pen correctly.

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Author notes: Apologies, I was too busy yesterday and didn’t have time to post this chapter.

Please share and recommend this work, or vote for it on topwebfiction. If you can’t wait for more and want to support the series, purchase the full, reworked edition on Amazon today!

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“Secure the captain! Request reinforcements, this is a Code Orange!”

The night duty police officers were on high tensions as they fortified themselves outside of the police station under the immediate evacuation order they received. The captain had charged in and after what was clearly a high level battle inside the police station, he was blown out of the station and into the road.

The officers hurriedly tried to rescue him, report and call for reinforcements according to protocol, but everyone was extremely nervous. They all know their captain’s strength, so anything capable of defeating him was beyond their pay grade.

Anthony Reeves lay in a small pit in the road with an extremely pale and pained face. There was a deep hand print clearly visible on his shirt which had torn apart from the strike. His entire chest had turned purple around the hand print, indicating how serious his internal injuries were..

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Author notes: Please share and recommend this work, or vote for it on topwebfiction to help boost it. If you can’t wait for more and want to support the series, purchase the full, reworked edition on Amazon today!

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Senna passed by empty interrogation rooms and entered into a large briefing room. There were some notes still on the podium, but it was only a schedule. She still used her small flashlight as she leafed through it.

“Hmm, there was a presentation on the case of the missing boy. This case is looked over by… Officer Roland. I just need to find his desk and get that useless idiot out of here before Captain Reeves comes flying in in a rage. The idiot will undoubtedly agree to something stupid as recompense.”

Senna mumbled to herself in annoyance before leaving the podium and heading towards the door of the room.

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Author notes: Please recommend this work, or vote for it on topwebfiction to help boost it. If you can’t wait for more and want to support the series, purchase the full, reworked edition on Amazon today!

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There were two types of cultivators within this world. The first, and original, type were the orthodox ‘traditional cultivators’. These were those who lived in reclusive locations where the local spiritual qi was much richer, spending long periods in seclusion to cultivate in order to singlemindedly devote themselves to the pursuit of immortality.

These were then further split into those who belonged to a sect or other faction, simply called cultivators, and those who held no affiliation and were referred to as loose cultivators.

The second type of cultivators were the more modern ‘urban cultivators’. These were cultivators who lived within and were a part of modern civilization.

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Author notes: Please recommend this work, or vote for it on topwebfiction to help boost it. The more readers there are, the better it is for me! If you can’t wait for more and want to support the series, purchase the full, reworked edition on Amazon today.

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Arianna had originally mentioned that her son had said he was going to have a sleep over at his friend’s house. Even though this was reported to the police at the time, Thomas still followed up with the boy’s friend, Brand, and his parents.

Whilst grieving for the child and anxious for his well being, they told him what they had told the police. Adrian had undertaken a dare to do an overnight fear test at their school, Laurence Academy of the Gifted, which is rumored to be haunted by the ghosts of past students who died.

Most of the students who did this dare would merely sneak into the school, take a quick video to prove that they were there, and leave shortly afterwards, simply boasting that they spent the whole night there.

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Author notes: This one is a little late (I forgot to post it yesterday!) but the next chapter will be released in 2 – 2.5 days.

Please recommend or vote for this work on topwebfiction to help boost it! If you can’t wait for more, purchase the full, reworked edition on Amazon today.

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In the Lucky Star Motel, a run down establishment with cheap rooms, the pair of agents from the Department of Homeland Security were having breakfast.

The room had two beds, each with a bedside table containing a few snacks and a telephone, and a couple pieces of furniture whose age was apparent. There was also some storage units with vases, magazines, or other small memorabilia. A holographic tv screen hovered just off the wall opposite the beds, playing the morning news.

There was a small bathroom directly adjacent and a kitchenette near the entrance in its own small alcove, along with a basic dinner table that folded down from the wall.

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Thomas sat in the back of a taxi beside Senna, one finger exploring the deep recesses of his nose with his lips slightly parted and an expression of concentration on his face.

A sharp elbow suddenly dug into his ribs, causing him to jump in pain and stab into his nose with his finger.

“Ouch! What was that for!”

“Stop picking your nose in public, it’s embarrassing!”

“So it’s fine at home- Ow!”

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Author notes: Hello all, enjoy the next chapter of this new book. I am going to be releasing twice per week over the next 5 – 10 weeks, and will review whether to maintain that, or drop releases to 1/week after that (to keep the flow of chapters while I am working on End Online + studies).
Also, please vote for this work on topwebfiction to help boost it! Any family, friends or pets that you think may be interested in it, please share and recommend.

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Not long after the first client came, the bell on the door rang once again, indicating someone had entered.

Senna straightened her clothes and quickly entered the reception room, Thomas following behind her not long after.

Thomas was surprised as one client was already rare, but two on the same day was simply unheard of. Normally, there would only be one person walking in a week, whilst three out of four would back out as soon as they heard the price of his service.

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Thomas sat behind a large wooden desk, his chair half reclined and his feet on the table. The afternoon sun streamed in from between the slats of the old aluminum venetian blinds.

His crusade was long over and he had settled down in Rushford, Pennsylvania, starting his own business called Thomas’ Private Investigator Office for the Supernatural and Mundane, a bland and unimaginative name that cluttered the front door.

His business was on the second floor above the main shops outside, a narrow staircase between two stores leading up to it. Clients could simply walk in, but his shop was quite hidden so most people never even knew it was there.

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