Chapter 1 — The Author I Will Personally Haunt After Death
The ceiling fan was making the kind of sound that suggested it had given up on life three years ago but was too stubborn to actually fall.
Vee lay on his bed, staring at it.
"…If that thing drops on me, I swear I'm haunting the landlord first."
His phone buzzed beside him.
He didn't even need to check it.
He already knew what it was.
Still, he checked.
And immediately sat up like someone had thrown cold water on his soul.
"NO."
He stared at the screen.
Then screamed.
"NO, YOU CAN'T DO THAT!"
He pointed aggressively at his phone.
"What do you mean 'THE END'?!"
Silence.
Then—
"HELLO?? DID YOU RUN OUT OF INK?? BUDGET?? MOTIVATION?? RESPECT FOR HUMAN LIFE??"
He stood up abruptly.
Pacing.
Waving his arms like a man arguing with fate itself.
"We didn't even get closure! Where is the main character?! Did he win?! Did he die?! Did he open a bakery and retire peacefully?! I NEED ANSWERS, YOU CRIMINAL AUTHOR!"
He stopped mid-pace.
"…Actually, I take that back. A bakery spin-off would've been nice."
He resumed pacing.
"No, scratch that. This is worse. This is literary abandonment!"
He grabbed his pillow and slapped it.
"As a reader, I feel betrayed!"
Then he paused.
"…And emotionally attacked."
He dropped the pillow.
Sighed.
Then pointed at the air.
"This is why readers stop trusting authors and start reading spoilers like criminals in training."
He kicked his bed.
"Ow!"
Immediately grabbed his foot.
"Okay—okay—why does my furniture fight back??"
He hopped in circles for a moment, breathing sharply.
Then collapsed onto the bed again.
Staring at the ceiling.
"…Stupid author."
He muttered it again.
Then softer:
"…At least give him a good ending."
His phone buzzed again.
He ignored it.
Because he already knew what day it was.
He slowly raised his wrist.
Checked his watch.
Paused.
Checked again.
"…Huh."
July 15th.
He leaned back.
"Oh."
That simple sound carried more acceptance than panic.
The doctor had said it casually.
Like announcing the weather.
"Yeah… today might be it. Your leukemia is progressing faster than expected."
Vee had responded:
"Cool. Can I still eat spicy noodles?"
Doctor had stared at him for a full five seconds.
"…Yes?"
"Then I accept my fate."
Now, lying on his bed, Vee nodded slowly.
"…So today is the update patch."
He closed his eyes.
Then opened them again.
"…At least fix my spawn location, life."
Five-Star Restaurant — Later That Day
If there was one thing Vee could do well in life—
It was cooking.
Not "good for a slum kid" good.
Not "better than average" good.
No.
He was annoyingly good.
The kind of good that made chefs question their career choices.
The kind of good that made customers suspicious.
The kind of good that made food critics cry and then try to adopt him.
Unfortunately, none of that came with job security.
He walked into the restaurant late.
Again.
No one even bothered shouting anymore.
It was tradition at this point.
"Morning," he waved.
No response.
Respectfully ignored.
He walked into the kitchen like he owned it.
Immediately, his entire personality shifted.
His laziness disappeared.
His focus sharpened.
Knives moved.
Vegetables surrendered.
Fire obeyed.
One of the junior chefs whispered:
"…He's doing it again."
"Doing what?"
"Making the food look like it was prepared by gods with culinary degrees."
Vee plated a dish and slid it forward.
Perfect symmetry.
Perfect aroma.
Perfect execution.
Then yawned.
"…Too easy."
The head chef stared at it.
Then at Vee.
Then at the dish again.
"…I hate you."
"Same," Vee replied.
"Table 4 is calling you," Markie whispered as he passed.
Vee didn't look up.
"The walking lawsuit again?"
"Yep."
Vee sighed deeply.
"…Why is he still alive?"
"Customer is king," Markie said.
"Customer is a mistake of evolution," Vee corrected.
Still, he wiped his hands and walked out.
Table 4 — The Incident of Absolute Nonsense
"HEY YOU!"
Vee stopped.
"…Me?"
The man at Table 4 stood up aggressively.
"My soup has a BUG in it!"
Vee leaned forward slightly.
Looked at the bowl.
Blink.
"…That's pepper."
"I DON'T CARE!"
The man pointed dramatically.
"This is unacceptable service!"
Vee tilted his head.
"…Sir, this is a restaurant. Not your emotional support battlefield."
"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!"
The man lunged.
A punch came flying.
Vee watched it approach like a slow documentary about poor decision-making.
"…You know what," he muttered, "I should've taken today off."
He tilted his head slightly.
The punch missed by centimeters.
The man stumbled forward.
Vee grabbed his collar casually.
"Sir."
The man froze.
"You are about to experience consequences."
Punch.
One hit.
Clean.
Efficient.
Emotionless.
The man collapsed.
Restaurant: silence.
Then—
"You're fired."
The owner stood at the entrance like a final boss of unemployment.
Vee nodded.
"Understood."
He walked out.
The Road —
Outside, the world looked normal.
Too normal.
Suspiciously normal.
Vee crossed the road.
Saw a girl on her phone.
"…People really trust phones more than survival instincts," he muttered.
A truck appeared.
Very fast.
Very disrespectful.
Vee blinked.
"…Oh. That's illegal."
He ran.
Shoved the girl.
She stumbled.
"Thanks—WAIT WHAT IS THAT—"
Truck.
Impact.
THE VOID
There was no pain.
Only warmth.
Then silence.
Then—
"Name: Vee."
"…Yeah?"
"Age: 17."
"Correct."
"Talent: None."
Vee frowned.
"Excuse me?"
Silence.
Then:
"You will not go to heaven."
"Honestly? Fair."
"But you will be transferred."
"To where?"
Pause.
Then:
"The novel."
Vee sat up mentally.
"…I'm sorry, I think I heard you wrong. Did you say I'm being isekai'd into bad writing?"
"Yes."
"…That's offensive on multiple levels."
A glowing system appeared.
DEATH MATRIX SYSTEM INITIALIZING
Vee squinted.
"That sounds like a scam app."
"You may choose three requests."
"Ah. Genie mechanics. Finally."
Vee looked at the floating screen.
The screen looked back.
At least, it felt like it was looking back.
Which was somehow worse.
"So."
He crossed his arms.
"Before we begin, I have questions."
The system remained silent.
"Can I become a dragon?"
NO.
"Can I become immortal?"
NO.
"Can I become rich?"
A pause.
TECHNICALLY YES.
Vee immediately pointed.
"Interesting. Why was that one possible?"
The system refused to elaborate.
"Suspicious."
He rubbed his chin.
Then nodded.
"Alright. Let's do this properly."
The screen brightened slightly.
REQUEST ONE
Vee didn't hesitate.
"Power."
SPECIFY.
"Hm."
He thought about it.
Strength?
Magic?
Sword talent?
Future knowledge?
Those were all useful.
But they all had the same problem.
They depended on circumstances.
Instead, he chose something simpler.
Something that covered everything.
"I want the ability to grow."
The system paused.
Longer than expected.
CLARIFY.
Vee grinned.
"No limits."
Silence.
The darkness around him felt heavier.
Then—
ACCEPTED.
A strange chill ran down his spine.
"...That worked?"
The system remained silent.
"That definitely shouldn't have worked."
Request Two
The screen shifted.
REQUEST TWO
This one was easier.
Vee's smile disappeared.
For the first time since arriving here, his expression became serious.
He looked down at his hands.
The hands that had grown thinner every month.
The hands that had spent years connected to hospital equipment.
The hands that had always felt weak.
"I don't want to be sick anymore."
The void fell silent.
No jokes.
No sarcasm.
No complaints.
Just honesty.
"I've had enough."
A few seconds passed.
Then:
ACCEPTED.
Vee released a breath he didn't realize he was holding.
"...Good."
For a moment, neither he nor the system spoke.
Then his usual expression returned.
"Great."
He rubbed his hands together.
"Now for the dangerous one."
Request Three
The screen flickered.
FINAL REQUEST
Vee stared at it.
This was the important one.
The really important one.
Because he knew exactly what kind of novel he was entering.
He had read it dozens of times.
The heroes suffered because the plot demanded it.
The villains died because the plot demanded it.
People fell in love because the plot demanded it.
People died because the plot demanded it.
Everything happened because an invisible hand pushed events forward.
Because the story wanted it.
Because the author wanted it.
Vee hated that.
Not because it was unrealistic.
Because it felt unfair.
The people inside those stories never got a choice.
Their lives belonged to someone else.
His eyes narrowed.
Then he smiled.
A small smile.
The kind that usually led to trouble.
"...I know what I want."
The system waited.
Vee raised one finger.
"I want a fate no author can control."
Silence.
Complete silence.
The screen froze.
Nothing moved.
Nothing responded.
Even the darkness seemed to stop breathing.
Vee blinked.
"...Hello?"
No answer.
"Did I break it?"
Still nothing.
"Oh come on."
He pointed at the screen.
"You offered wishes."
A pause.
"Don't tell me there's hidden terms and conditions."
The silence stretched.
Long.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
For the first time since arriving here—
Vee felt nervous.
Then the screen flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
And finally—
ACCEPTED.
The void shook.
Violently.
Vee's eyes widened.
"...That reaction seems unhealthy."
The system didn't answer.
A crack appeared in the darkness.
Then another.
And another.
Something about this request felt different.
Wrong.
Like he had accidentally touched a rule that wasn't supposed to be touched.
Vee slowly lowered his hand.
"...I definitely signed something."
The Last Conversation
The cracks spread.
Reality itself seemed to fracture around him.
The transfer had begun.
Vee looked around.
"So."
The voice responded.
"Yes."
"Any advice?"
A pause.
Then:
"Survive."
"That's not advice."
"It is."
"That's barely advice."
Silence.
Vee sighed.
"Fine."
He thought for a moment.
Then asked:
"Am I at least entering as the protagonist?"
The answer came immediately.
NO.
"...Of course not."
"Are there stronger people than me?"
YES.
"Many?"
YES.
"That's concerning."
The cracks widened.
The transfer accelerated.
Vee quickly raised another question.
"What about my future?"
For the first time—
the voice hesitated.
A very long hesitation.
Then:
"I cannot see it."
Vee froze.
"...What?"
No answer.
The voice continued.
"I cannot calculate it."
The cracks spread faster.
"I cannot predict it."
The darkness trembled.
And then:
"I cannot control it."
Vee stared.
For a moment, even he forgot how to joke.
Then a slow grin appeared on his face.
"...That's actually pretty cool."
Transfer
The void shattered.
Light exploded outward.
Countless fragments rushed past him.
Stars.
Cities.
Mountains.
Kingdoms.
Lives.
Stories.
Worlds.
And somewhere among them—
one unfinished novel.
One abandoned ending.
One world without closure.
A world he knew better than anyone.
Vee laughed.
A little nervous.
A little excited.
Mostly concerned.
"Alright then."
The light swallowed him whole.
"Let's go fix someone's terrible writing."
And reality disappeared.
To be continued
@BTSarmy