CloudCatcher

In the greed-filled world of corporate empires and magic knights, Min Jae was a king in business, with pockets so deep he could drown in them. That is, until his life deemed his playthrough unfair and gave him a red card. Poison was his family's best friend, as everyone had at least tasted it once, not twice because they never could.

Death was never on his calendar, neither was an offer for a divine gig. Enter the Deity of Stories, a celestial being with a fetish for plot twists, who offers Min Jae a deal he can't refuse: become her divine cameraman. 

No, not the kind with a lens, but one who records the tales of mortals. In return, he gets a second shot at life, in a world where his dearly departed parents are alive and well, ready to dote on him from birth.

Reborn as Judge (because “Min Jae 2.0” sounded too dull), he quickly realizes this new life is no gift. This steampunk utopia, filled with airships, clockwork gadgets, and an alarming lack of Wi-Fi, thrives on manipulation. But who needs the internet when you have a divine camera and the sharp mind to control it all?

Judge isn’t just here to record stories; he’s here to write them, casting himself as the mastermind behind every twist and turn. Armed with his divine powers, he navigates complex schemes, power-hungry nobles, and ruthless industrialists, all while keeping his ultimate goal hidden: to ascend to godhood and rewrite his own fate.

Of course, he generally makes a glorious mess of things, all while trying to keep his dear parents blissfully unaware of his less-than-angelic schemes. But as the stakes rise and the Deity of Stories watches his every move, Judge must tread carefully. Can he manipulate his way to the top, or will he become just another character in someone else’s plot twist?

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Just a quick disclaimer: The book steers clear of any unwanted adult stuff. However, it does feature a potentially disturbing amount of violence—enough to make you wonder about the author's mental health.
So proceed with caution—and maybe a shield!

Cameraman Never Dies

Lucifer turned to Isadora, flashing a smile so dazzling it could make a chandelier jealous. "A masterful performance, Barachiel." He clapped, though it was more of a polite golf clap — just enough to acknowledge, not enough to suggest he enjoyed the show. "One worthy of an encore. Although, personally, I prefer a little less... you know… mutilation."

Isadora wiped a streak of someone else's blood off her sleeve with all the grace of a refined lady dabbing at a wine stain. "Lucifer, you taught me to fight with that mask on." She took a step toward the pergola, where three out of the original four pillars were still standing, making the whole structure look like a sad game of Jenga. "And coupled with my assassin training, I must say… this is me now."

Serious Artifact contemplation