Ready Player One Novel Novels & Stories

My hands froze over the keyboard. It was just a secondhand marketplace. The message on the screen was from the buyer. He had already paid, and I had already shipped the item. The deal was done. What I sold was my girlfriend's DSLR camera. However, it seemed like what he wanted… was not just the camera. Messages kept popping up. "Hey, Chloe Hastings, what's wrong? Mad at me?" "Don't tell me you're getting too into the roleplay again. This cold attitude suits you. Still not replying?"

"I need a partner. Someone who challenges my logic. Someone who breaks things so I can fix them. Someone who watches my back while I watch the horizon." He leaned down, his forehead resting against hers. "I need a Player 2," Altair whispered. "Permanently." Nova let out a breath that sounded like a laugh and a sob. She looked at the Prince of Neo-Veridia. The boy who had learned to be a Wolf, but chose to be a partner. She closed her hand around the USB drive, holding it tight against her chest. "You know," Nova murmured, "Player 2 usually gets the broken controller."

"He is a compatriot, young and talented. Commands respect in Brisian circles. My brand is niche, but I'll win him over." He leaned into Shannon. "Right, babe?" She murmured a vague affirmation, her focus riveted on me. Resentment simmered beneath her composed exterior. The flattery for Zach ramped up, laced with barbs aimed my way. I remained an island of serenity, nursing my water. A knock suddenly came from the door. A suited assistant, files in arm, poked her head in anxiously yet respectfully. "Mr. Fuller, sorry to interrupt. I've got those critical Lumina documents you requested and updates on the designer."

She was for me, and I was for her. "Mommy? Daddy? Why aren't you reading for me?" Our lovely daughter interrupted, looking back and forth her parents with her round adorable eyes. God, she always made my heart melt. "Alright, sweetheart... Once there was a carpenter..." I then started reading. Well, this was how my life should be. Perfect. -The End- *~*~*~* Adam Sebastian’s story is finally here!!! Check out “Playing With The Billionaire” Here on Goodnovel.

She looked at Nora and Kael as if they were total strangers. ​"Can I help you find a book?" Mia asked, her voice sweet and hollow. "We just got a new shipment of 'Billionaire Sci-Fi'." ​Nora’s heart stopped. The "Hard Reboot" hadn't saved them. It had Fragmented them into a world where their enemies were their neighbors and their family were strangers.

Then he bent down and rummaged through his turtle shell backpack, pulling out a gaudily covered book. He stuffed it into Yosef's hands. "My sister will come to pick me up later, could you read me a novel first?" Yosef looked down at the novel handed to him. The gaudy cover featured a strange title—"Cold CEO's Ninety-Nine Days of Wife-Chasing: Sweetheart, Don't Run." He frowned; Is this novel suitable for kids? Looking at the author's name again, Godber. Just from the name, it felt like this person lacked talent.

I turned and saw a servant holding out a folded letter. “Where did you get that?” “A raven came this morning. It had your name on it. No one else’s.” A raven? Fr? Not a text or something? How old fashioned is this person? I took the letter slowly, already feeling a pit settle in my stomach. I unfolded it and read in silence. "Dear Mima," "How sweet. You're gathering soldiers. Building your little army. Such a noble effort for something so... doomed." "I admire your spirit, truly. But you and I both know it won’t be enough. Not against me. Not against what I’ve become."

“So, you're friends with Charlotte Gray, and dating Sebastian Fabian?" I was leaning on the kitchen counter as I ate my apple, scrolling through social media as Eros walked into the kitchen with his duffle bag still hanging on his shoulder. “Thanks for taking the hint and not saying anything about our set-up.” I said, taking another bite before looking at him. His hair was wet and tousled, perfectly framing his chiseled face, and the feeling from earlier in the parking lot resurfaced again. He dropped his bag on the counter and made his way towards the fridge.

For the first time in a very long time, the Game doesn’t feel predictable. At the end of the hall, I pause, hand on the cold iron of a window frame, watching the courtyard below. She’s talking to one of the guards now, waving her hand in sharp gestures. She’s impatient. She moves like a fighter, measured, deliberate. She’s not trembling. She’s calculating. A new player in an old story. I should turn away, let the machinery run its course. But instead, I whisper to the empty room, “Try not to die too quickly, Moonfire.”

"I'll be ready." End of Chapter One Hundred and Twenty