Prologue (1) - How it all started
I want to be a popular author like the others.
It was my dream in the past.
I looked up, sliding the screen with my finger that touched the LCD of my smartphone. The first ten chapters brought thousands of readers to my book.
I was happy at that time, but the happier I wrote, the more I lost the feeling I had at the beginning. The readers were getting smaller, and people began to remove my novel from their favorite list.
I opened the comment column, the white light from my smartphone illuminating my face.
[Anonymous: Apas Story, this is like Ways of ****** novel, the author has no ideas and can only plagiarize.]
My heart pounded, and a dull ache filled my chest, meeting the emptiness inside. How come? I didn't completely plagiarize.
I took several systems like scenarios and some high entities from original novels, but they all mocked and abandoned my novel just like that.
I even made my own plot and story that was entirely different, even though the theme was still about a regressor.
First chapter: 12,000 Active Readers
Tenth chapter: 1,200 Effective Readers
And...
Thirtieth chapter: 1 Effective Reader
So on, until the 4,297th chapter.
In the end, there was only one reader who continued to follow the development of my novel. I was happy... but I couldn't deny that I preferred having many readers at the beginning rather than one consistent reader until the end.
A vibration from the message box interrupted my thoughts. A red notification circle appeared at the corner of the app with the number one inside.
[@Krn297: Has the novel reached the end?]
Oh... is this my loyal reader?
I pondered the comment. I would be lonely without him in my novel, but I was also happy because my novel had finally reached its end.
I tapped the comment and replied.
[@T_mort (author): Congratulations! You've read to the end, and the epilogue will be released tomorrow night!]
Heavy rain continued to pour outside. I lived in a small apartment with only one room and had been living here alone for ten years.
Once again, the notification shook.
I opened the message box.
[@Krn297: Wow! I'm happy to have spent nine years reading this.]
I stared at the comment in silence.
If so many people didn't like my novel, why was there one person who loved it? I know everyone's tastes are different, but...
[@Krn297: I can't wait for the epilogue!]
He replied again.
[@T_mort (author): Thank you for the nine years. I will monetize the epilogue!]
I had deliberately canceled monetization when my novel was under contract. But now, with only one reader left...
Wouldn't it be a shame if only he bought it?
I wanted to carry out monetization for the epilogue, which meant he had to pay to read the final chapter of my novel entitled The World is Falling.
[@Krn297: That means I have to pay for the epilogue?]
[@T_mort (author): I'm worried... do you mind the monetization?]
[@Krn297: No, no! I'll pay for it.]
Relief washed over me.
Even though online promises couldn't always be trusted, he had been loyal to my novel for nine years.
I didn't stop writing because of him—
That much was clear.
I continued without ever growing tired, just to satisfy a single reader.
Pushing my body away from the table with my wheeled chair, I leaned back, staring at the pitch-black ceiling.
The lights were broken, and I didn't have money to replace them.
"Overseer Liam."
I called out, closing my eyes, resigned to what I wanted to sacrifice.
The room trembled like a speeding train passing through a tunnel. Sparks crackled beside me, revealing a creature—a poor man sitting in his chair, outdated and worn.
Electricity flickered. The man remained silent, resigned to the world as bottles toppled from the desk and the keyboard rattled.
"What's wrong, Thor?"
The creature's voice echoed—round, devilish, with sharp teeth and large, cute eyes that made people question if it was a charming angel or a terrifying devil.
Horns curved from its head.
It was the master game in my novel.
I buried my face in my hands, sighing deeply.
"Do what you offered this morning."
"Are you sure?"
"You don't see? My life isn't beautiful... it'd be better if I lived there."
"But it will sacrifice the whole world."
Unlike his ruthless persona in the novel, the Overseer acted as a loyal assistant to the author—me—for nine years.
"Do it... I don't care about the world."
Silence hung between us before I spoke again.
"There's only one thing I care about."
The Overseer floated back, his round body startled.
"Alright... I'll do it."
He began chanting a spell, but midway, he paused.
"But before that... may I ask something?"
"What?"
"The reader... what is he to you?"
I clenched my fists. This would never be seen by the world's constellations or Andromeda Stream.
"I don't know."
"When will this start?"
"Tomorrow night, when the epilogue is released."
A grin crossed my face.
"Okay!"
---
[@Krn297: I can't wait for this epilogue.]
18:55
I prepared the novel file.
If the world turned into my novel, would he remember everything?
[@T_mort (author): Can you send your email address? I want to send a gift!]
[@Krn297: Alright @********.kmail.com]
Quickly, I attached the full novel file—too large to be sent through comments.
(File sent)
19:00
It's time.
He must have opened the file if he wasn't busy.
I would sail the whole world to find him.
"It's finished, sir."
The Overseer floated above me. My real name is Glen.
"Thank you... can I participate in the game?"
"Of course, but you won't escape death—even if you're the author."
I smirked. I knew that.
I'd created the world myself.
"Oh, and don't forget to check the message box once you've entered the scenario."
"Thank you, Overseer."
"Is there anything you want to create one last time?"
I rose from my seat.
"Can I?"
"You can."
"I want to make some new skills and Cosmos Relic weapons."
"Of course."