Novels by L. Christine

Chapter 7　The ConfrontationThunderous applause finally erupted.This time, it wasn’t the polite, scattered clapping from earlier—it was real, overwhelming, roaring like a rising tide.Three thousand people clapped at once, the sound crashing toward the stage like waves.Elena Shore stood under the spotlight, looking at the faces below—some excited, some moved—and felt her throat tighten.She lowered her head, took a slow breath, and forced back the sudden urge to cry.She couldn’t cry.She hadn’t cried in seven years.

The next morning, sunlight poured through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows of the convention center, scattering bright patches across the marble floor.The main hall was already full.Three thousand seats—not a single one empty.In the front row sat foreign dignitaries, top entrepreneurs, scholars. Behind them were media reporters and regular attendees. Dozens of cameras stood on tripods around the hall, all aimed at the center of the stage.The atmosphere felt… strange.Whispers rippled through the audience like a swarm of buzzing bees.“Is the ‘Ocean Goddess’ really speaking today?”

Chapter 5Lena Shore didn’t go far. She stood on the terrace outside the banquet hall.The night wind of Ocean City carried a damp chill, plastering her shirt against her back. Her phone buzzed for the fourth time—Old Bill again. The screen lit up, dimmed, lit up again, reflecting off her pale face.There was no point answering.The hole in the foundation’s budget was even bigger than she’d expected. A few patent royalties were nothing but a drop in the bucket. Seven years ago, when she nearly died underwater because her oxygen tank malfunctioned, she didn’t cry when she resurfaced—she sealed her samples first.Back then, she thought that was the biggest crisis of her life.Now she understood—being broke is the real hell. The kind that makes you want to curse at the world.The railing was cold. It dug into her palms painfully.“Ms. Shore?”A timid voice sounded from behind.Lena turned. A young woman with a staff badge stood there, holding a tablet. She looked barely out of college,

The wind on the balcony was sharper than anything inside—cold, needling, and merciless. It reminded Lena Shore of the northern sea currents she had studied for half a decade. Even nature had a way of telling her truths:Nothing soft survives without fighting.She stood alone, the slice of cake untouched in her hand. The desert-like sweetness mocked her—too artificial, too polished, too celebratory for a night that tasted like humiliation.Below the balcony stretched the city she once called home. Skyscrapers pierced the sky like sharpened blades. Neon lights flickered like restless predat

Chapter 3 — The Summit Opens: Watching the Vanity Fair BurnThe International Convention Center of A-City shimmered like a palace built on money and lies.Light spilled from the massive crystal chandeliers overhead, refracting off every diamond necklace, every champagne glass, every carefully practiced social smile, until the entire hall felt blinding—so bright it bordered on grotesque.This place was a marketplace of status.A hunting ground dressed in silk and glass.Lena Shore pushed open the door and stepped inside.She wore a white shirt so washed it was almost gray, sleeves casually rolled to her elbows, revealing a clean wrist

Chapter 2 – This Table, I ClaimThree days later.The wind on the breakwater was wilder than usual, carrying the salty spray straight into the small hut.“Bang!” The rickety wooden door of the lab was kicked open.Old Bill stumbled in, waving a cracked old phone with its screen spiderwebbed, almost smacking Lena Shore in the face. The noise was louder than a category ten typhoon.“Lena! Something’s happened! The sky is falling!”Lena was carefully separating a mutated algae specimen from a petri dish with tweezers, her hands steady, not even a flick of her brow.“If it’s about those grouper fish we couldn’t save, just add them to tonight’s menu. No need to freak out.”“Eat, eat, eat! Always thinking about food! Who said anything about fish?!” Old Bill stomped furiously, his flip-flops clapping against the wooden floor. “Look at this! The internet’s on fire! They’re saying there’s a ‘Goddess of the Sea’ on our island! I swear, these kids have never seen you scold anyone harder than you