Chapter 199
Chapter 199
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 199
Chapter Title: The Literary Girl's AI Blunder
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3
Let me say this upfront.
O Dok-seo might have that extraordinary airhead vibe, but she wasn't a complete idiot.
Even at a glance, she was the type who could handle everything on her own if tossed into an average Void and pull her weight as one person.
In short, she wasn't brain-damaged enough to leave the door "slightly" ajar while writing her novel, exposing her every move through the crack.
And yet, the door was open, and in the end, I ended up witnessing the crime scene.
Which means?
"D-Dok-seo! What in the world are you doing right now...!"
The one who had left the door open was someone else.
Sim A-ryeon. Not only did she flaunt her airhead charm, but she was also the undisputed champion of SG Net's "Idiot of the Year" award for six straight years.
In the 888th round, instead of cosplaying as a northern saintess, this girl had simply lived as Dok-seo's roommate.
Sim A-ryeon urgently grabbed Dok-seo's shoulders.
"N-No way, did you use generative AI again...? You promised you wouldn't anymore...!"
"Ah! Don't overreact, sis!"
O Dok-seo shrugged off A-ryeon's hands. An ominous, sinister flame flickered in her eyes.
"Just once. Really, just one more time!"
"N-No...! You said the last time was the last just a while ago! But now that the serialization deadline is approaching, you're clicking away at AI again...!"
"Hey! Gah! 'AI clicking' my ass!"
O Dok-seo roared like a high official berating a peasant.
"This is nothing more than a new era's writing method! I, the great literary girl, am merely applying cutting-edge technology as an auxiliary tool for writing, constantly learning trends to stay ahead of the times!"
"I-It really won't work.... Relying on that demonic path like some evil sect.... You'll lose even that tiny tail-end of talent you originally had...!"
"Argh! Let go already!"
"Kyaa."
Crash. Pushed away by O Dok-seo's noble-legged shove, A-ryeon fell on her butt like a tragic heroine brimming with pathos.
"Stuff.... Stuff made with that AI clicking nonsense isn't your writing anymore...!"
"Who the hell are you to say that! Unbelievable! I typed the prompt myself! A novel spat out from my prompts is obviously my writing!"
"D-Do you really think that makes sense...?"
"Of course! A painter wields a brush, mixes existing colors from the world, a photographer snaps the shutter on a ready-made camera—huh? It's all the same artistic act! The same! Who are you to oppose the new era's currents with such narrow-minded views? That's why it takes you 10, 20 hours to draw one illustration every time!"
"S-Sophistry.... Dok-seo, a camera and generative AI are completely different...."
"How so?"
"R-Read this garbage sentence out loud right now."
Sim A-ryeon picked up the laptop.
And then she unleashed the most vicious and evil method out of the 101 ways to kill a writer. In other words, an impromptu reading session.
"L-Look at this. 'The Undertaker let out his bizarre 300th sigh and pulled out the black suit he'd bought at Busan Station to put it on'.... 'The Undertaker protagonist regressor's other bizarre Busan Station tale, the 300th round, was about to begin'.... Do you really think this is your writing? Were you always this lame, Dok-seo...?"
"Hurk!"
O Dok-seo spat up blood. Not physical blood, of course, but the blood of her soul.
And Sim A-ryeon had the nose of a shark that could sniff out someone else's spilled blood like a ghost. Like an orca that looked cute but was actually a predator in the food chain, A-ryeon was one too.
"Your novels were always so damn long-winded in sentence rhythm that it was hard to tell if it was literature or a cardio machine.... But at least it was better than this trash! T-That's why you always get crushed by me in SG Net Novel Board rankings.... Like a total loser...."
"Hey!"
O Dok-seo had a fit.
"Your novels rank high because of, uh, what! Illustrations! Illustrations! You plaster them in every author’s note, that's why they rank high!"
"Ah.... S-So, readers keep following my boring writing faithfully because of the illustrations? The pathetic excuses of a loser.... H-Hah, but I know something even uglier than that excuse-mongering.... It's those sentences spat out by AI clicking.... That's just perfect pure trash...."
"I-It hasn't gone through full editing yet, okay?"
Whoosh! O Dok-seo snatched the laptop back from A-ryeon.
And then, like an AI pianist showing off flashy fingerwork, she started inputting a new prompt.
>> Polish the sentences in Chuck Palahniuk style, add a spoonful of Stephen King to the word choice, a pinch of Yi Young-do
Soon, the screen spat out new sentences.
――――――――――
I sighed for the 300th time. This sigh mixed with Busan Station's air, turning into something bizarre before vanishing. It'd probably lodge in some crack in this city's concrete and grow mold.
I pulled out the black suit and put it on. This suit from Busan Station's underground mall, never once dry-cleaned over 300 lives, was now like my second skin.
Alright, here we go. The curtain rises on the 300th show. Another bizarre tale unfolding in the belly of this massive beast, Busan Station. I'm the protagonist, the audience, and sometimes the sacrifice in this endless cycle's drama.
A whisper reaches my ear. Busan Station's voice. "Ready, Undertaker?" I grinned. Ready as ever. My heart's already pounding wondering what nightmare we'll dream up this time.
――――――――――
O Dok-seo pointed at the screen.
"Ta-da! H-How's that? Huh? Way better than that mass-produced style from before, right? Whew—this should shut up the readers for sure!"
"...Dok-seo...."
"This is the power of my prompt engineering! My originality! The originality of AI art!"
"What the actual fuck are you doing, Dok-seo...."
Sim A-ryeon made a tearful face and sniffled.
"T-This is exactly why generative AI is different from a camera.... See? Generative AI uses training data, and that training data is creative works others sweated blood over.... H-How is stealing and shoving that in without permission your writing...."
"It's fine! Chuck Palahniuk and Stephen King are public figures! Public goods!"
"W-What in the world...."
"And that whatever, uh? The canned hotel where Korean Peninsula authors stay. Whose is that? Uncle Undertaker's, right? I'm writing for Uncle! And all the authors on the Peninsula owe Uncle! So... no author's got any right to complain about my noble cause! If they're jealous, they can write their own regressor autobiography!"
Good lord.
"Uhahahaha! Yeah! I can look up at the sky without a shred of shame! This advanced future tech that's doomed to persecution anyway—I'll prove it! I'm the prompt artist!"
My heartbeat and Sim A-ryeon's resonated.
Forcing such a guilty rhythm on my heart—this girl was no ordinary one.
"Dok-seo.... How, how did you end up like this.... T-This heaven-defying sin, even the Guild Master won't forgive...!"
Alright.
And from this point, the genre swerves into a flashy drift.
From O Dok-seo ascending the corrupted AI throne and Sim A-ryeon self-flagellating for failing to stop her, like a Blizzard-style RPG cinematic—
Suddenly, like a horror flick, A-ryeon whipped her head up and stared straight into my eyes.
"Right, Guild Master?"
"......"
To be honest, from midway through, I wanted to toss the coffee aside and moonwalk out like Michael Jackson.
But the scene before me had some drug-like quality. I had no choice but to end up like this.
Sim A-ryeon's voice and speech had to contain some narcotic humanity hadn't discovered yet. Dear readers listening to my tale, please take note of this eerie fact.
"Huh? Sudden uncle.... Oh, Uncle?"
Probably, for days now, Sim A-ryeon had been secretly leaving the door open every time Dok-seo started "writing" (read: prompt art).
Why? Because she anticipated I'd show up someday.
In the end, A-ryeon's scheme was a resounding success. O Dok-seo turned toward me with a creaky squeak.
"W-When did you... get here?"
I averted my gaze slightly.
"Hmm. Is that answer really necessary, Dok-seo?"
"Yes. In fact, right now in this world, that's the only thing I need."
That much, huh.
That much, then.
"From the beginning."
"Beginning? Which beginning? A bit beginning? Or a later beginning? Huh? How specific a beginning are you talking about?"
"I see. Specifically, hmm. From the moment you inputted the prompt 'Protagonist is Undertaker, regressor'...."
"Aaaaaaaaaah!"
A scream erupted.
"Aaaaah! Urk! Aaaaaaaaaah!"
A scream erupted.
"Hueeeeeeaaaaah!"
A scream erupted.
And O Dok-seo evolved from bipedal to multi-legged creature.
For reference, the most famous multi-legged lifeforms were centipedes and grimas. Both shared the trait of crawling on the ground.
"Why!"
O Dok-seo writhed on the floor, showing symptoms of respiratory distress.
"Why the fuuuuuck! You were just, watchingggg!"
Her desperate wail echoed even in the deepest, most secretive, security-tight spot of the Inunaki Tunnel's ocean floor.
A faint "pfft"—like air leaking from a lung balloon—sounded too. If not for my exceptionally sharp hearing, I might've missed it.
The source was Sim A-ryeon's mouth. Pfft-prrrp-phbbt—she was shaking with shoulder laughs.
Were these really the hopes of the Korean Peninsula, nay, the world?
That's why we lost, because these were our hopes....
"Hmm. Dok-seo. Uncle here really doesn't know what to say."
"Don't! Then! Don't say anything at aaaaall...!"
"But it's still vivid in my eyes. Your face when you delivered that famous line, [I'll write Uncle's story for him]. To me with Perfect Memory, it's as fresh as six seconds ago—"
"Hueeeerk! Haa! Aaaaah!"
"And on the other hand, you said humans forget their own words so easily. Why do we forget? That's the tragedy of life, you said, and it just popped into my head—"
"Nooooooo!"
Thud!
O Dok-seo rolled on the floor and crashed into the table leg. The laptop fell and landed on her shoulder.
"T-This isn't me! This, I... I'm not... I didn't want to do this.... Gasp! Monster! R-Right! Uncle! This laptop's actually that Myriad Phenomena Jester bastard's relic! The Myriad Phenomena Jester tricked me! From some point, it turned into a ChatGPT-like program! So!"
"Dok-seo."
Whoosh, Sim A-ryeon hugged Dok-seo.
And patted her back gently with her fingertips. Delicately. Kindly. Like a saintess.
Dok-seo couldn't see from her POV, but I had a perfect view of A-ryeon's face. She was grinning like mad.
"It's okay. Dok-seo.... Of course you did trashy stuff, and now the Guild Master has eternally preserved one black history mark to torment you with Perfect Memory for life, centuries, millennia ahead, so even if the world ends, your black history just gets passed to the next world.... But people can repent for their trashy deeds. Yes. Even if an indelible stain forever marks your life, unerasable...."
"I'll kill you...!"
Today must be Sim A-ryeon's power-leveling day.
I forcibly pried off the Goryeo Jang villain and patted Dok-seo's shoulder.
"Dok-seo. It's okay. Looks like I've unknowingly planted too much pressure on you about having to write my novel."
"U-Uncle...."
"It's fine to rest."
I smiled warmly.
"Take as many breaks as you want until you can write with a relaxed heart again."
"I-Really, is that okay...?"
"Of course. Uncle can wait for our Dok-seo anytime."
"Uncle...!"
That day.
A notice went up on SG Net's Novel Board.
[Literary Girl] It's O Dok-seo.... I'm going on hiatus for a bit to recharge.... (5 minutes ago)
SG Net readers' reactions were, well, not bad.
Given how weird the Literary Girl's sentences had gotten lately, there was quite a bit of hopeful psychology like "She'll come back recharged and in form, right?"
And.
Time passed.
[Literary Girl] It's O Dok-seo.... I'm going on hiatus for a bit to recharge.... (7 years ago)
Click.
I entered the notice's comment section.
Thousands of comments scrolled down.
-Anonymous: Who the fuck announces a hiatus and actually takes 7 goddamn years??? Where's that writer???
-[Baekhwa]HighSchooler12thYear: Pilgrimage again this year >_<)!!
-Anonymous: Which writer needs 7 fucking years to recharge? "A bit" means 7 years??
-Anonymous: I'm out. You hop off too, author^^
-Goryeo Jang: Heard she went missing in a Void... Please come backㅠㅠ
└Anonymous: Saw her on the free board?
-Anonymous: Literary Girl overslept and was late again today. Or something.
-Anonymous: I started with this on Novel Board, not sure if I'll see the end before I die
-[National Highway]Historian: Honestly, shouldn't you refund out of human decency?
-Anonymous: Literary Girl you fucking bitch!!!
"......"
Ah.
Dok-seo....