Playboy, lecher, parasite, pond scum—these were just some of the names the girls called me. But it never stopped the next one from giving in. I never really trusted people, and given how pitifully I die, I doubt I would ever trust anyone again.
What is this? I’m still alive? Where am I? Why can’t I see anything?
Species: Autotrophic Prokaryote
It seems like I have a long journey ahead to become human again. But why would I even want to? Humanity and all its drama can go to hell.
*Author Note: I am Whatsawhizzer, the original and only author of these books. This is an official Whatsawhizzer Web Novel account. You can verify my copyright here: https://whatsawhizzerwebnovels.com/copyright/, which includes links to these works. I appreciate the support but please stop accusing me of plagiarizing myself and reporting my account. Thanks.
