Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint Novel MTL - Chapter 679

Chapter 679

679 Episode 22 Name (1)
「One day, an incarnation posed a question to their sponsor.

“If you are a single being, why do you have numerous titles?”

The sponsor responded.

「 “What makes you believe I am only one?” 」

She began writing her first story around the age of thirteen.

As is common for many, her origin was fairly typical.

She wrote by chance, received awards, and was praised for her skill with words.

“Sooyoung. What happens next?”

It captivated her that someone was invested in the narrative she created.

“Are you that interested?”

A cosmos contained within a notebook. Within the tiny realm she forged, she was a deity.

The lives and deaths of her characters hinged on her sentences. Friends who read her tales shared in her laughter.

The difficulty arose during class.

“Sooyoung.”

Her homeroom teacher called for her during a break.

Though young, Han Sooyoung was perceptive and understood the situation, so she apologized first.

“I’m sorry.”

Her homeroom teacher gave an approving nod, returned her notebook, and said,

“Just be more discreet in class.”

He then hesitated for a moment, as if searching for the right words.

In hindsight, the young teacher was likely mindful of a certain politician—Han Sooyoung’s father.

“It’s not solely your fault. The others are also at fault for reading during class.”

Regardless, the young teacher then quoted a line from a book with a sense of importance.

“There’s a saying that a work becomes the reader’s once it leaves the author’s hands.”

That familiar, almost cliché sentiment struck the thirteen-year-old Han Sooyoung as odd.

“Why?”

“Huh?”

“I’m the one who wrote it. Why should it belong to the reader?”

The teacher chuckled at the audacious, childish question.

Perhaps he wished to leave a mark on a child who might one day become a writer.

The young teacher added another thought, not expecting the child to grasp it fully.

“Some writings are only finished once the writer has died.”

Some writings are only finished once the writer has died.

The young Han Sooyoung mulled over those words before posing another question.

“Then what does the writer get, once the work is complete?”

“Well, there’s money and fame to be gained.”

“Is that everything?”

The young teacher floundered under Han Sooyoung’s disappointed look, scrambling for a more substantial answer.

But he found none.

It was inevitable. After all, the words he’d shared were not his own.

So, the teacher swiftly concluded their talk.

“Well, if you ever discover the answer, Sooyoung, will you tell me?”

The next year, the teacher was transferred, and Han Sooyoung never saw him again. Though she had no obligation to provide him an answer, Han Sooyoung continued to write.

As fortune would have it, her stories found an audience early on.

Many grew to love her novels.

She wrote as if she were a genuine inhabitant of the worlds she created.

Before she knew it, Han Sooyoung was living inside one of those worlds.

「 What remains for the author who has completed their work? 」

Living in that world alongside her companions, sharing laughter and tears, surviving mortal peril.

Han Sooyoung felt she was inching closer to the answer.

Perhaps she had even encountered someone who appeared to know it.

To retrieve that person, Han Sooyoung settled before the keyboard once more.

But she was at a loss for what to write. She was unsure what should fill this void. It felt like reverting to her childhood, when she first held a pen. What words, what story would bring him back?

As she sat with her head in her hands, deep in thought, a visitor arrived.

“If you wish to save Kim Dokja, you must die.”

It was the Dokkaebi King from the 1863rd round.

The Dokkaebi King appeared just after Han Sooyoung, Yoo Jonghyuk, and other members of <Kim Dokja’s Company> had reached the story’s conclusion.

The end of 『Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint』.

The companions who opened the door to Kim Dokja’s hospital room were met with two possible outcomes.

One where Kim Dokja returns.

And one where he does not.

Han Sooyoung and the others, who wanted all of Kim Dokja restored, refused to accept any ending where he might not come back.

Yet, they did not know how to ensure his return in the world after the story.

“It’s truly pitiable. You as well.”

The Dokkaebi King remarked while sipping an Americano through a straw. Han Sooyoung objected.

“Who are you here to mock?”

They sat in a cafe constructed of spiritual energy, within a barren, plaster-like landscape. The two drank coffee and iced chocolate, respectively.

“Ugh, this tastes like boiled newspaper.”

“This is a world no one has ever written. Its flavors have never been properly defined.”

The Dokkaebi King surveyed their surroundings with a calm gaze.

The entire world was abnormal, not just the cafe. It was a realm of sparse, empty whiteness, like scribbles in a child’s notebook.

“It appears you struggled to envision this place.”

“Of course. I truly believed Kim Dokja would return.”

As she spoke, Han Sooyoung studied the Dokkaebi King’s appearance.

A white coat and a deep felt hat.

It was unmistakable. This ‘Dokkaebi King’ was the same one from the 1863rd round.

“Why are you dressed like Kim Dokja?”

“This style is currently popular in the world line I recently visited.”

“I thought you were still confined to the subway.”

“My main body remains there. But even I wish to venture out occasionally.”

“What sort of dokkaebi does that? Now that you mention it, your way of speaking has changed since then.”

The Dokkaebi King cleared his throat lightly and opened his eyes with a cool expression.

【Would you prefer if I spoke like this, Han Sooyoung?】

Han Sooyoung discarded her straw, took a swig of her iced chocolate, and slammed the glass down.

“Hey.”

“Yes.”

“Where is Kim Dokja?”

The Dokkaebi King responded as though troubled.

“A similar situation occurred before.”

Han Sooyoung remembered it well.

She could never forget.

Memories of the 1865th round.

They had tried a ‘group regression’ using Yoo Jonghyuk’s power to recover the lost Kim Dokja.

“Will you repeat that error again?”

They had failed once before.

The one who declared their failure was the very Dokkaebi King before her.

The Dokkaebi King who had protected Kim Dokja when he became ‘the Oldest Dream’. The being who had long assisted the young god and transformed into the [Fourth Wall].

“Did you believe we had any alternative?”

Han Sooyoung asked, her voice tight with suppressed anger.

“The Kim Dokja left in our world line was dying.”

In a world where the system had vanished, the 49% of Kim Dokja created via [Avatar] was losing his power and dying.

To save any part of Kim Dokja, the group had no choice but to cross world lines.

“Kim Dokja did not want you to come. He found happiness in watching your stories.”

“Did my reader say those words himself?”

“…”

“See. You don’t even know.”

“You speak as if you do.”

“I don’t. That’s why I’ll ask him when we meet.”

“Do you genuinely believe you can meet him again? Why not relinquish this pursuit?”

Han Sooyoung rummaged in her pocket and pulled out a lemon candy.

“He risked his life to save us.”

“Is that not a common occurrence in the world of the Star Stream?”

“He truly died for us, again and again.”

Han Sooyoung remembered every one of Kim Dokja’s deaths.

She had not forgotten a single one.

The same was true for everyone in <Kim Dokja’s Company>.

“I am aware that Kim Dokja returns after death, but how many individuals do you think would genuinely endanger themselves for others solely because they possess the ability to resurrect?”

“How many would perpetrate such insanity repeatedly throughout their existence?”

Are resurrected humans truly identical to their former selves?

Is a person, whose entire cellular structure has been analyzed and reconstituted, not merely a duplicate, like text copied and pasted?

No one knows the definitive answer.

It was likely the same for Kim Dokja. Even so, he chose to die for his companions. Then he returned.

“I was saved by someone like that. I witnessed his death multiple times. I remember vividly the agony, the anguish, the smile he wore until the very end.”

“…”

“He endured all of that. Do you believe it’s possible to simply decide that enough has been done?”

The Dokkaebi King observed Han Sooyoung for a long moment before releasing a quiet sigh.

“Everything has already been recorded, and is being recorded simultaneously.”

“Will you assist us?”

The Dokkaebi King paused at Han Sooyoung’s softened tone.

The Dokkaebi King was one of the few beings capable of moving between world lines at will.

With his aid, they might be able to track Kim Dokja’s missing trail.

Unexpectedly, the Dokkaebi King gave a slow nod.

“As I stated earlier, to save Kim Dokja, you must die.”

Han Sooyoung frowned and asked again.

“You said that before. What does it mean?”

After a moment’s thought, she added.

“Is my death also inscribed on your ‘wall’?”

“The memory of this meeting will be erased from the wall.”

“Because it defies probability.”

“Correct.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t die. So you can help without reservation.”

The Dokkaebi King regarded her with sorrowful eyes before looking up into the emptiness.

“Your story will conclude soon.”

Snow began to fall from the sky.

A pure white snow that blanket everything, living and dead, written and unwritten.

“What remains for you now, Han Sooyoung?”

What remains for her? Han Sooyoung drew a breath of the cold air and opened her mouth to answer.

But no sound emerged.

Time seemed to freeze along with the snowflake touching her cheek.

When she blinked, the Dokkaebi King had vanished. But he wasn’t the only thing gone.

The surrounding scenery, her arms, her legs, her torso, her voice—everything was disappearing.

Ah.

The memories returned to her belatedly.

Memories of using the device left by the Dokkaebi King to locate the 41st round.

There, she met Lee Hakhyun, the reincarnation of the 49% Kim Dokja.

Memories of her incarnation sustaining damage while battling Asmodeus.

Memories of joining forces with Lee Hakhyun to defeat the Outer God.

And finally, the memory of her incarnation dissolving away.

Was it a burst of light?

A distant cold enveloped her in the darkness.

Her soul was gradually eroding at its edges. She could feel her life approaching its terminus. She knew it intuitively, without being told.

This death had already been recorded.

It was unavoidable, even with [Avatar] or any other skill.

In the darkness, she felt the stories she had written departing from her.

Han Sooyoung recalled a sentence she had once penned.

「 The moment the world is complete. The writer must relinquish their role as creator. 」

That is the destiny of all works.

「 For readers to be born, the writer must die. 」

Han Sooyoung now comprehended the Dokkaebi King’s meaning. She laughed into the pitch-black void of the universe, feeling the substance of a god fade away.

Somewhere in this universe, a being was undoubtedly reading this story alongside her.

So, if this could serve as the ‘probability’ needed for his survival.

Then, so be it.

Soon, a darkness as dense as printed text surged forward, and Han Sooyoung’s soul was consumed by the abyss.

And within that profound darkness, a man who had once been the protagonist of this story perceived her passing.

«Han Sooyoung?»

Yoo Jonghyuk gazed into the void beneath the curtain and murmured.

It was perplexing.

He had distinctly sensed Han Sooyoung’s story mere moments ago, but now he could detect nothing.

It was as if her entire narrative had been expunged from this world.

The implication was clear, yet Yoo Jonghyuk refused to accept it.

Just as Han Sooyoung knew Yoo Jonghyuk, he knew her equally well.

There was no conceivable way Han Sooyoung could die in such a manner.

However, his companion, who did not know Han Sooyoung well, held a different view.

«It is time for us to depart.»

The man, who was systematically dispatching the abyss hounds, stated.

«My safety is not the primary concern, but if we continue to fight here, the entire sector will be affected. For their protection, and for the safety of the 41st round, we must leave promptly.»

Yoo Jonghyuk had shared that opinion.

Until a faint glimmer of light passed beneath the void curtain.

«Hey.»

Meteors descending from the far reaches of space streaked past them, brushing against the void curtain.

«Yoo Jong-»

Before the man could finish, Yoo Jonghyuk’s new form, moving like lightning, collided with the void curtain.

Yoo Jonghyuk, who had let the meteor pass, would not be denied. The moment he touched the curtain, a violent electric shock seared through his body.

Even as his flesh blackened and burned, Yoo Jonghyuk reached through the veil.

As if something he had sought all this time lay just beyond.

«Have you lost your mind?»

Ultimately, the man intervened and pulled Yoo Jonghyuk back.

Even as he was dragged away, Yoo Jonghyuk’s gaze remained fixed on the veil.

«There was…»

«What?»

He had seen it, if only for an instant.
A faint glimmer that flickered into existence the moment Han Sooyoung’s story vanished, lasting only a second before disappearing.

He did not know why that light had sparkled there.

But Yoo Jonghyuk recognized it.

Because that light belonged to the star that had protected him for so very long.

«Kim Dokja.»