Chapter 5 - Episode 2: Become the Protagonist (1)
◈ How to Become a Star Writer ◈
Episode 2: Become the Protagonist (1)
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Am I dreaming?
Was I having sleep paralysis? I couldn't open my eyes.
[System error has occurred.]
...
[Error! Someone else is currently linked to this work's “protagonist.”]
[Error! Someone else is currently inheriting this work's copyright.]
[Failed to acquire copyright.]
[Your current position is “extra.”]
In the pitch-black darkness, the voice became static, circling my ears.
Protagonist? Extra?
No, what the hell was that supposed to mean?
[The Stars have noticed your existence.]
[Some Stars are interested in your existence.]
[Some Stars pay 3,000 Dust for your bold choice.]
[A new story begins.]
That was the end of the voice.
I was left alone in the darkness.
Then fear suddenly seized me.
I twisted my body however I could.
What was this? Move. Move, damn it.
After struggling for some time...
“Lance, what are you doing?”
The moment I opened my eyes, a sight I had never seen before unfolded before me.
An endless desert.
Sunlight stabbing into my flesh. Heat far too real to be a dream.
I stared blankly around me.
Several men, their bodies wrapped head to toe in suspicious burqas, were heading somewhere. And I was one of them.
What, was I dreaming that I'd suddenly become a terrorist?
My viewpoint was a little lower, and my body felt uncomfortable, as if I were wearing ill-fitting clothes.
Ugh, what was this? Why wouldn't my body do what I told it?
That was when the man beside me grabbed my shoulder.
“Hey, Lance. Hurry up. The boss is waiting.”
Lance?
Was he talking to me?
The man was suddenly spouting nonsense, but strangely enough, I knew who he was.
[Your author's authority has been unlocked. You may now view character information.]
The moment I looked at him, the man's character settings flowed into my mind.
[Character Information]
Character: Bintz Rat
Age: 23
Role: Extra (Bandit Underling 1)
Total Combat Power: 20
Potential: Low
Description: Has a severe compulsion to answer every question.
What was this? Character information? A description?
Had reading too many web novels finally driven me insane?
But... Bintz Rat. I'd heard that name somewhere before...
Wait.
“Lance, you've got the Upper Soul safely hidden, right? It'll be bad if you lose it. We hid it with you because you looked the weakest, so take good care of it.”
That line sounded familiar too.
Even in the extreme heat, something like a chill crept up from my toes. My whole body trembled.
“Hey, why aren't you answering?”
It seemed impossible, but that impossible possibility was probably right. Still, I needed to confirm it.
“Bintz. Where are we?”
I couldn't believe my first line was this painfully awful.
But it was a necessary question right now.
Had protagonists in web novels felt like this too? I suddenly felt sorry for them.
“What are you talking about? This is the Tamakan Desert.”
That confirmed one thing.
“Right. But what are we doing right now?”
“We're transporting the Upper Soul to the boss.”
That confirmed two.
“The boss? Who's the boss?”
“Batz, the boss of our Valhalla Bandits... Damn it, why are you asking when you already know? Did you get heatstroke? Hey, does anyone have water...?”
“I'm fine. One last question. What's an Upper Soul?”
“The Upper Soul is an elixir that raises spiritual power. It's extremely rare and expensive... Fuck, what is this? Why do I feel like I have to answer your questions...?”
That was because your character setting was <Compulsion to Answer>.
I started putting the information together.
One, the Tamakan Desert.
Two, the Valhalla Bandits.
Three, the Upper Soul.
They were unbelievable details, but I had no choice but to be certain.
“...Oh my God. I'm inside a novel?”
The novel Yoo Chan-young had written, and I had edited.
99 Ways to Live as a Regressor.
[A very small number of Stars admire your quick judgment.]
[A very small number of Stars pay you 50 Dust.]
...What? They were paying me something?
Come to think of it, I'd heard messages like this earlier too. Something about Stars watching me...
Ah, was this one of those settings?
I remembered seeing it in several recent popular novels.
Transcendent beings like gods watching the protagonist, secretly helping or sponsoring them.
...But had 99 Ways to Live as a Regressor included beings like that?
[A very small number of Stars are satisfied with your quick judgment.]
[A very small number of Stars pay you an additional 50 Dust.]
I was grateful that they kept giving me things, but the situation was ridiculous.
People said that if you studied hard, you dreamed about studying. Did writing web novels diligently mean you dreamed about web novels too?
Part of me thought the things I experienced here would give a novel convincing realism.
Of course. Blessed are those who work hard.
Long live the subconscious.
Long live Dr. Freud.
“Though I'll probably wake up cringing at myself.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
It happened to writers all the time.
In dreams, you thought, This would be a huge hit if I wrote it. But once you woke up and started writing, you realized all over again how contrived the story was.
This dream was probably the same.
Grumbling, I shook the sand from inside my boots.
Damn, this dream was disgustingly realistic.
The soles of my feet burned like crazy, and sweat streamed down my back.
Had I fallen asleep with the electric heating mat on?
That would be bad. My electric bill was going to be huge.
That was when a thud-thud-thud-thud came from far away.
Something was approaching through a cloud of sand.
“What is that?”
Bintz frowned and shaded his eyes with a hand.
Whoosh!
I didn't know whether something flew in first or Bintz's head was crushed first.
Splat!
Fragments splashed over my face.
What had just happened?
Bintz's body, brains spilling out, tipped toward me.
“Who the hell is that?!”
The bandits were all drawing their weapons at once.
But before their swords were even halfway out, every bandit's head was already flying through the air.
Unreal jets of blood soaked the desert.
Heavy. My body felt heavy.
The weight of death, something I was facing for the first time in my life.
Spitting out Bintz's brains as they kept trying to get into my mouth, I let out an incoherent scream.
Don't think about anything.
This is a dream.
I'll wake up soon.
I barely pushed Bintz's corpse away and planted my trembling hands in the sand. I crawled forward.
But before I could crawl more than a few steps, someone grabbed me by the nape.
“Where is the Upper Soul?”
Strong eyes. A solid, muscular body.
I immediately knew this was the person who had slaughtered the bandits.
Information about him floated before my eyes through my shaking vision.
[Character Information]
Character: Fehilt Rune
Age: 17
Role: Protagonist (Regressor)
Total Combat Power: 2,281
Potential: High
Description: The protagonist of this story.
A shudder ran through me as a memory surfaced.
Right.
This bastard was the protagonist of the novel.
That fucking regressor.
Familiar sentences suddenly came back from deep inside my mind.
...The prologue?
If I remembered correctly, this scene was the prologue of 99 Ways to Live as a Regressor.
And the prologue began with the protagonist, having regressed to the past, killing nearby bandits to obtain an artifact.
Wait, then what was my role?
What were my character settings again?
[Character Information]
Character: Lance Pilgrim
Age: 17
Role: Extra (Bandit Underling 2)
Total Combat Power: 5
Potential: Lowest
Description: You are one of the weakest life-forms in this world. All Stars look upon you with pity.
What the fuck was this now, I thought.
“Looks like you don't know. Then die.”
The blade flashed, and terrible pain spread through my neck.
I felt blood pooling beneath my neck, and my vision spun.
I couldn't breathe.
It felt as though my entire head were melting.
My thoughts were breaking apart.
This.
Might.
Not.
Be a dream.
Could I.
Really.
Be.
Dying...
[A few Stars are disappointed in you.]
[500 Dust has been deducted.]
Even through the agonizing pain, I heard that voice and thought:
Thank God this was a dream.
Once I woke up, I would surely return to my own world.
Thank you, Dr. Freud, for leaving open the possibility that this was a dream.
This was definitely a dream.
Naively, I believed that.
[You have died.]
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