"Do you believe in magic?"
The sounds of a bustling street reverberated in my mind as figures in their early and late twenties staggered past me.
'They reek of alcohol,' I thought as I reached my destination.
Pushing open the door of the convenience store, the sound of a small bell rang in my ears. The store was not large, but it had everything a single person like me would need.
Once I stepped inside, my gaze swept through the space before I made my way to the third aisle, where I grabbed some vegetables, eggs, and other groceries.
"I'll take this," I said, addressing the young woman behind the counter, who appeared to be around my age.
"Oh, Jin?"
Hearing someone call me by my nickname, I pulled out one of my earbuds and glanced up. "Oh, hey, Jinah. It's been a while, hasn't it?" I replied, my tone casual.
The young woman, wearing a soft and familiar smile, nodded and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah, we haven't seen each other since last year."
Blushing slightly, she looked up at me. "Umm..." she began shyly. "Are you perhaps free this weekend? Since we haven't seen each other in a while, why don't we catch up? Oh, but..." she raised both hands, "if you're busy, just ignore what I said. Though I'll be glad if you agree."
'Just my luck.'
It was not like I hated Jinah. In fact, I could say I liked her quite a bit. But today was the wrong day for this. I was not in the mood to talk to anyone, nor did I have the strength to flirt back with my ex.
But I knew it would be rude to refuse her. After all, I never officially broke up with her and just disappeared immediately after high school.
I nodded reluctantly with a soft smile. "I think I'll be free during the weekend. You can choose where you want to go."
Jinah's face lit up with joy. "Okay, everything you bought will be 12,000 won."
I nodded, placing my phone over the payment monitor.
With a beep, the transaction was completed.
I grabbed the grocery bag Jinah had packed, ready to leave, only for her to hold me back.
"Hmmm… oppa, can we meet at your place this Saturday? I miss other parts of you too."
My eyebrows twitched ever so slightly. "Any way you like, Jinah."
She finally let me go, placing her palms together. "Okay~ then I'll see you on Saturday… oppa~"
I nodded once and left the store. As I walked down the street I found her final words replaying in my ears again and again. I sighed and glanced down at my phone, which was ringing with the contact name "My First Love" displayed on the screen.
"Good morning, ma…" I said as soon as I answered the call, making sure to drag out the last "ma."
[Jin-sung! Why didn't you pick up any of my calls?]
"Sorry, I've been a little busy," I responded apologetically to my mother, who sounded mildly irritated.
Why wouldn't she be? I was her nineteen-year-old son who had decided to abandon college to pursue writing. Now that it was not going well, I had fallen into a depressive state.
[Are you still angry about the way I shouted at you?]
"Why would you think that? I'm totally fine. Besides, you were right."
Still on the phone with my mother, I reached my apartment complex, entered the elevator, and opened my front door. The moment I did, the fresh scent of cooked meat mixed with lavender wafted into my nose. From where I stood, I could even hear the faint hum of the monitor I had forgotten to turn off.
[Is that meat I smell?]
'How can she smell it over the phone?' I thought, but couldn't help smiling. My mom had always been a bit oversensitive when it came to me.
Ever since I received the email about my book's serialization being canceled, my mom, dad, older sister, and cousin had been flooding me with calls.
"I didn't know you could smell through the phone, Mom, but I'd love to learn that power if I could."
[Hahaha... you should know that your mom is a superhuman.] she responded smugly.
"Now that you can see I'm okay, can you stop worrying so much?"
[...Alright, I won't call you constantly.]
"Thanks, Mom. Love you." I ended the call and sank into my chair, tossing the grocery bag into the small kitchen.
"I'm too lazy to cook."
As I sat in the soft chair, staring at the double-curved display my dad had spent a fortune on, a sudden thought crept into my mind. It was a thought I did not want to follow, but without realizing it, my fingers moved the mouse and opened the email app.
Right there, in bold letters, it read:
"THE MAGIC ACADEMY'S GENIUS SWORDSMASTER" HAS BEEN CANCELED.
I leaned back against the headrest, staring at the message for what felt like the hundredth time.
The Magic Academy's Genius Swordsmaster was a web novel that had taken the world by storm, climbing to second place on the all-time web novel rankings.
During its prime, I felt somewhat fulfilled. I had a faithful readership and a loyal fanbase. Best of all, I loved my story.
Born into a family of four, with a father obsessed with anime, webtoons, and web novels, I immersed myself in the community faster than most, just as I did with chess, which my mother played.
Bedtime stories were replaced with watching popular shows or learning Japanese instead of Korean.
My father would always tell me about the shows from his time, even those only true enthusiasts of the culture would know.
I cherished those days and dreamed of living that life. Maybe a massive gate would open in Korea, sending monsters swarming in, and I would be one of the few who awakened as an SSS-rank, beginning my heroic journey.
Or perhaps I would wake up in a different reality where my father was an SS-rank in a world of hunters, and I would start as an E-rank, leveling up as I went.
But I knew better than to expect reality to match fiction. Even if it did happen, I would have less than a ten percent chance of being the protagonist.
Why? Because I did not fit any of the protagonist traits.
Trauma? None. Maybe a scary horror movie I watched as a kid, the imagined pain of my nails breaking when closing a door, or getting trapped in an elevator without a beautiful girl by my side.
Orphan? Not even close. I had a pretty loving family, even if they were VERY annoying at times.
Poor? No. I did not grow up wealthy, but my parents provided everything I needed, sometimes even extravagant things.
Fatherless or motherless? No.
An abusive family? No.
Bullied? Maybe a little.
Sickly with a badass, sexy maid? That one... I doubted anyone in their right mind would have that. Unless they were a pervert.
An undying passion for a book or a sport? No. I did not care much about most things. For me, there was always a replacement for any material thing.
The heart of a hero or the heart of a demon? Hah. Like I would wake up one morning thinking about saving someone or ruining someone's life.
All this meant one thing. I was just another person you could find in any corner of the world. Not an extra, but a random person without any distinctive features.
I closed the message from XOR, the number one web novel platform, and another message came in. Not from Insta or VidTok, but from an unknown reader named 'TTT.'
"Now that isn't just ominous. Does he mean to reference the Truck, Transmigration, Tensei meme? I thought it was already outdated."
I sighed. It was not like I was obligated to answer my readers anymore.
My book had been canceled, and so had my exploitative contract.
Upload four chapters of 2k words per day. Always listen to your editors. Readers' opinions are final.
Even then, people still found something to complain about.
"The chapters aren't enough."
"Why is Matthew acting like that?"
Yeah, screw all of you. The story I wrote with so much effort, the novel I poured my heart into, something I wanted my dad to read and brag about. A story I just wanted to complete.
Ruined. And for what? A shitty fanbase.
"Tch! Now they complain about the story being bad. Who do they think made it like that?" I muttered, irritation lacing my voice.
"Some bastard even said it's because I'm still a teenager. As if that's the fucking problem."
I clicked my tongue again, slamming the delete button before opening the new message.
[Good day, Author-nim.]
That was the first line I read.
I scrolled down, reading the rest of the message.
[Are you tired of life?]
"No," I answered aloud, even though I knew he could not hear me through the screen. Still, I felt compelled to reply.
Except for my dwindling writing career, everything else in my life was fine. So why would I be tired of it? Hell, I even had a manhwa and an anime.
[Do you want to change it? Your story, I mean. You have regrets, don't you?]
I inhaled deeply, staring at the screen illuminating my neat apartment.
I reached toward the keyboard. It had become second nature to answer every reader.
"Yes, I do."
As though waiting for my reply, a new message arrived.
"😁👍"
My eyes widened at the absurdity of the response. "Emojis?" I asked myself.
I reached for the keyboard again but froze midway as another message popped up.
"🛸📖🌍💫"
"What?" I murmured, confused.
Before I could respond, the legs of my chair creaked, and suddenly I was falling to the ground.
My head slammed into the tiled floor, sending shockwaves of pain through my skull.
I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling blood rush to my head and making me dizzy.
Realizing my life was slipping away, I forced my eyes open.
To my surprise, I was no longer in my apartment.
Two boys stood before me, and my body trembled, though I could not feel anything. My body felt completely alien, and the clothes I wore clung to my sweaty skin as if they belonged to someone else. The fresh scent of spring felt foreign. Even the surroundings were...
"The hell," I muttered, struggling to speak. My voice came out cracked and sore, and the boys in front of me looked down at me like I was some kind of plaything.
Beside me floated a sky-blue, game-like interface.
[Welcome, Author Cha Jin-sung, to the world of Aether... Assimilating with current user.]
'No way...' I quickly looked to my left and right, confusion flooding my senses. 'I've been transmigrated.'