Chapter 4
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: Back to the Past
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Your reader, denied a proper ending, rages.
"Don't you dare! You bastard! Don't touch Number 7!"
-Aaaah!
"If you cross the line, I'll kill you for sure!"
"Aaaah!"
My entire body was drenched in sweat.
"......"
I flinched... The familiar scenery made me squeeze my eyes shut without thinking. Had I developed claustrophobia? Feeling fear in an ordinary room wasn't normal. My body trembled uncontrollably.
Where was the Team Leader? He hadn't killed me?
"Wait?"
This familiar room...
"Wh-what? Uh... what?"
A deposit of 3 million won, monthly rent 270,000 won. It was that exact room from when I came up to Seoul after discharge, holing up in the corner messing around!
"Hic?"
Hwagok-dong.
"Huh?"
The shock was too much; no words came out.
"How?"
Hold on.
I bolted upright and rushed to the bathroom.
A mirror! There was a mirror!
The moment I saw my face—unchanged for ten years—my legs gave out.
"What... it's exactly the same."
Did that mean it was all a dream?
I sat there dazed from the shock for what felt like at least thirty minutes.
"No way..."
Number 7's smile, her eye smile, even the way her earlobes flushed—it was all so vivid. Could that have been a dream?
"......"
Even those lips she chewed on when concentrating?
"What is this...? Have I gone mad?"
I headed to the desk. There was the used gaming PC I'd bought secondhand.
This was the time when I'd justified it as reward time for myself, playing games ten hours a day. That's why my first novel was a game fantasy.
"......Insane."
The computer showed March 1, 2014. I'd spent exactly ten years in that hell...
"Tomorrow?"
It was the day before my kidnapping.
"Fuck, is this real?"
Stay calm.
What about this dissonance?
Dream or not, one wrong thought here and I'd get dragged back.
"Tomorrow, we were supposed to meet in Itaewon..."
Ten years had passed, but I'd never forget that day. My first kidnapping experience—how could I?
"I'd thought about it nonstop. What happened and why."
Just looking at this room told me I was a total shut-in.
When money ran low, I'd do odd jobs here and there, tossing out resumes.
I figured some company would hire a high school grad like me somewhere. Back then, I was so optimistic. I'd served in the military! No matter how shitty society was, it couldn't be worse than the army, right?
"The message came."
My heart pounded.
"Don't act rash. Not yet."
I logged into my favorite community.
"There it is!"
Author-nim, you said you'd serialize on Geulse World, right? Is the title Suddenly the Strongest? We're a new publisher, but we see potential in you and want to invest. If you're the author, please reply.
"Is this bastard the one?"
An account that hadn't even logged in, nickname 'Anonymous'—the kind non-members used. The memories of ten years imprisoned made my lips quiver.
"Calm down. Might not be."
Suddenly, I thought of the police. But going to them out of the blue, claiming some psycho kidnaps authors—who'd believe that? Non-member, so they'd need to trace IP. Would cops bother?
"The first kidnappings stopped at Number 3."
The other system came six months later.
"They experimented on us three first. Once stable, they ramped up numbers."
Early on, breakdowns spiked. Normal people go mad after that.
Then chat system introduced, and we stabilized.
"If I was Number 1, nothing's happened yet maybe."
Was that reality?
"Police first?"
No way they'd listen.
I was a ten-year author vet. Pure canned ten years—fifty years for a normal one.
That honed insight. Reading others' works leveled up my trivia skills.
"No. Wrong."
Know thyself, know thy enemy. Mess up, and the Team Leader psycho wins.
"Not emotional. Can't half-ass."
Not ignoring either. I'd kill that bastard for sure.
"Time'll tell if dream or real."
I'll respond accordingly. Act decisively when certain.
"Wipe all my info first."
I deleted my works, scoured internet for traces. Packed just in case.
-Moving out? Suddenly why?
Just saying I'm leaving a shitty room, and my heart drops.
"Circumstances."
-Hard to find this cheap now. You know I cut you a deal.
"Please."
Barely any stuff anyway—no real move.
"Whoa, fuck..."
Just stepping outside, legs shook. Felt like Team Leader watching—chills nonstop.
I want to get some fresh air.
Bullshit, fresh air my ass!
"Move, idiot."
After abusing my body till near-death, just walking freely nearly brought tears.
"No time."
Erase traces. He'd targeted me specifically.
Can't turn anyone into an author. We wrote webnovels—not mainstream. No base knowledge? Takes forever to learn.
Webtoons same. Means he's a hunter. Targets only what he can eat!
"Vanish before he comes."
That day, bag of clothes and PC, I checked into a goshiwon in Nowon-gu, opposite side of Seoul.
Goshiwon's perk: no big deposit. Deposit still in, guaranteed a month.
Fussing around, hit 2 a.m.
"Ha..."
Deep sigh. Reality check hit. Freaking out over a vivid nightmare? Peak idiocy.
"Either fully mad..."
Even if not, I survived. Screw what anyone says. Healthy and alive—indescribable.
Gurgle.
"Haven't eaten."
Stepped out. Spotted convenience store earlier.
Money left: 138,700 won.
"......"
Bought cup ramen. In hell, ramen only for #1 on diet chart.
Grabbed triangle kimbap too.
"This is ridiculous..."
Never wasted precious meal tickets on kimbap in ten years.
Weird, right? Similar price, but bias. Few hundred won difference.
"Just this..."
Bought skewer sausage too.
"3,800 won. Bag?"
"No... eat here."
Poured hot water on ramen, tore into kimbap.
"......"
One bite, whole thing. Throat clogged—forgot drink. But swallowed. Sausage in two chews. Juices burst down esophagus...
"Whoa, fuck... this taste real?"
Hadn't even finished 3,800 won worth, but thought: all that for this?
Peeled ramen lid.
Drip, splatter.
Drops fell into noodles.
Never well-off growing up, tears rare. Even locked ten years, didn't cry much.
"Hic... sob..."
Now, couldn't stop.
"Fuck, over this."
So tasty.
Slurp!
Noodles everywhere, went full face-slurp.
"......"
Did they say "face-slurp" back then? Knowing that proves not dream, right?
Slurp!
Ramen gone already.
Gulp gulp!
Broth one-shot.
"......"
Wiped mouth with sleeve, glanced side—clerk flinched. Saw me crying.
"Go home, you bum."
Not clerk. Self-advice.
Craved another kimbap, held back. Broke.
"Save."
Just cola?
"Water at goshiwon."
Carrying kidnapping terror, knew normal life tough short-term. Stretch money till recover.
"Thanks... good eating."
"Uh, bye!"
Clerk thought me nuts, but that meal evoked someone.
Are you okay?
Back at goshiwon, hooked up PC.
"No Noblepia."
Quick search confirmed world frozen ten years back.
"Most of all..."
Novels outdated. Regression, possession, reincarnation, S-rank... no good takes.
"Chocolate Page so small..."
No smash-hit romance fantasies or BL yet.
Rental shop era, transition from fantasy/print to webnovels—right now.
"Ha..."
Joara and Geulse World top serialization spots; individuals can't hit Chocolate Page.
"No publishers."
Can't gauge psycho's reach.
"Solo doable spot."
What to write?
Saw market evolve ten years. No net access, but Team Leader fed info; we chased trends.
"Need platform direct contract."
Clear path: faster, better than anyone!
"Bastard, I'll catch you."
Stay in market, grab his tail. Outpace, preempt his moves.
"Need power."
Capitalism? Money.
Closed eyes briefly.
"Even so..."
Wrote countless works ten years, but titles, protag names fuzzy. Last one clear; rest jumbled.
"No."
Rewriting old? Can't match then-feel.
"Rewrite."
Yes. Wrote four daily near death.
"Five a day first..."
Regain tension, ten possible. Ten daily: 300 monthly. Twelve volumes!
Body might wear; adjust per condition.
"Enough now."
Webnovel world pre-regression/possession flood. Later remarriage, chaebol, hunter boom—but not yet.
"Not too alien."
90% trend-follow, 10% fresh twist.
No reader rejection.
"Best genre?"
Martial arts.
Number 6 author-nim, you only do martial arts. No plans for other genres?
I tried everything, bored and unaware of strengths—various genres. But Number 6 stuck to martial arts. Never #1, Team Leader cold, but he believed.
Ever hear of wanryu gwijong? If #1 anyway, might as well do what I love most.
First heard wanryu gwijong from Number 6. All paths lead to peak?
Hanging here, picked up genre tips eavesdropping.
How to write good martial arts?
Next work martial arts?
No. Just curious. Not into martial arts yet.
Hm, martial arts boils to one thing.
One?
Yeah. Thirty years ago, twenty, now—one keyword pierces it all.
Ooh! What is it?
Coolness and romance!
That's two.
"......"