MTLNOVEL Chapter 168
The scene before him seemed almost unbelievable, causing Namgung Bin to blink repeatedly.
He was in a white void, a familiar space he’d visited only once before in the past.
“Ah, ah, writer…!”
The place where ‘Heavenly Qi’ is written. Otherwise known as ‘The Writer’s Room’.
This was the true nature of the space where Namgung Bin existed. Though, at this point, calling him Namgung Bin felt somewhat awkward.
“Hmm, looks like you’re in shock. I understand, you know. It’s understandable.”
“…!”
“Besides, weren’t you tortured—not the official kind—for several days by Byul Rak? It’s completely understandable.”
The writer, whom Namgung Bin hadn’t seen in four years, looked just as cheerful as before. This fact baffled him.
Even though he hadn’t completely destroyed the story, he had still managed to mess up the ending quite a bit. He had turned the relationships of the protagonist, Namgung Cheolbin, into a chaotic mess.
In short, he had turned the story into something that left the readers hanging. The writer had clearly enjoyed the readers’ attention in the past, so why was he acting so pleased now?
“Take as long as you need to compose yourself. There’s nothing here that could harm you.”
“Exactly….”
“Ah, feeling a bit confused? Let me explain your situation then. You’re dead. Killed by Cheolbin. Your plan ultimately failed, haha.”
Strangely, there was no sign of melancholy. This left Namgung Bin with an eerie sensation.
“Feeling regretful? Well, it can’t be helped. I only have one life to offer. Unless… would you like to reincarnate again? Into a different body, perhaps?”
“…! Absolutely not! I’d never do it again! No, another reincarnation!”
“Ugh, is that so? Well, there’s nothing I can do about that. Anyway, good work up until now. You truly worked hard.”
Despite the turmoil in his mind, hearing the word ‘reincarnation’ made Namgung Bin shudder. He would decline even if offered the chance to possess an emperor again—no way would he return to that hell.
“…And now, what am I supposed to do?”
As soon as he saw the writer, Namgung Bin’s insides boiled with anger. However, he couldn’t act rashly.
Because he knew he couldn’t win. He didn’t want to anger the writer and end up reincarnated again.
For now, he needed to figure out why the writer had summoned him—what purpose might remain for someone who had already served their use?
“Hmm? Didn’t I already tell you last time?”
“Tell me what?”
“I said to live using reincarnation until you die. Now that you’ve died according to your role, I’ll let you go as promised.”
“…?”
A fleeting memory from the past suddenly crossed Namgung Bin’s mind, one he could never forget.
“Could it be… you were simply telling me to live out my days in this despised martial realm until death?”
The memory of falling to the ground due to the writer was still vivid. It happened at the beginning when his life’s purpose revolved entirely around revenge. How could he forget?
“Was that really what you meant…? Just to live…?”
“How you lived was your choice. Personally, I had hoped you would live happily. While Cheolbin chose a life of seclusion in tranquility, you enjoyed luxury as the head of the Namgung family, standing at the pinnacle of power.”
“…!”
“However, you didn’t choose that path. Even though you could have enjoyed your paradise within the martial world, you dug your own grave by choosing an unnecessary vendetta. Why did you harbor such ill will towards me?”
Crunch—Namgung Bin’s teeth clenched tightly together.
Why did you seek revenge against him?
Did he think someone would come out unscathed after experiencing what he endured? After being involved in a massive decade-long war?
He wanted to argue that, but he refrained, knowing full well the writer wouldn’t understand anyway.
If the writer had truly empathized with his situation back then, questions like this wouldn’t have arisen. Namgung Bin didn’t want to exhaust himself on something futile.
“…Heh.”
Suddenly, he felt a sense of resignation. Reflecting on what he had been through brought about a strange sense of futility.
“I thought death would be the end. I never imagined death would be the key to return.”
“Of course. I am not that unscrupulous a writer.”
“If I had known that, I would’ve committed suicide immediately after reincarnating…”
“Ha ha, it’s all good now since you can return. Congratulations! By the way, it’s been about three years in your original world since you left.”
“…So, the fourteen years I spent in the martial realm only lasted three years on Earth?”
“Maybe it was fourteen; maybe not. Either way, your original body remains comatose in a hospital. Though physically unharmed, your physical abilities have somewhat regressed. You’ll need some rehabilitation.”
Just after recently dealing with the experience of becoming middle-aged, the thought of physical adjustments no longer seemed like such a big deal. Namgung Bin smirked faintly.
“Ah… will all the strength I gained in the martial realm disappear?”
“Of course. Different dimensions, you know? Unless you possess the power to twist between dimensions, there’s nothing to be done about it.”
“Lucky break, if you ask me. If casually hitting someone still resulted in deaths, I can’t imagine surviving in modern society as I did in the martial world.”
“True. Modern society operates under strict legal supervision, unlike the martial realm.”
A strange feeling overcame him. Though still harboring anger towards the writer, the intensity had lessened. The possibility of returning to his original world gave him a sense of hope, albeit one he had almost stopped expecting.
It’s said a decade could change the landscape of a nation. He had spent fourteen years in the martial realm, forgetting much of modern life. Still, that didn’t mean he didn’t want to return to the modern era.
Most of all, he longed to see the family waiting for him there—longed fiercely.
“But, wait.”
“Hmm? Is there anything else you want to ask?”
“Since you’re not angry at me already, why not now?”
It had been a long time since Namgung Bin had appended “Sir” to his address. If the writer had planned to send him back all along, why hadn’t he said so sooner? He wouldn’t have spent all these years plotting his revenge needlessly.
“Why wouldn’t I be angry at you?”
“Because I nearly ruined the conclusion of your novel. Did that cause any drop-off in readership?”
“Drop-off? Ah, I think I understand what you’re saying. You’re claiming that since you made the main character Cheolbin’s wife feel stolen, my readers, who read about Heavenly Qi, were repulsed and left. Is that right?”
“…Am I wrong?”
“Hmm… the attempt was in the right direction. That ‘Drift’ you were going for would have genuinely created revulsion in readers. Though, that scenario would only work if it happened to the protagonist.”
“Namgung Cheolbin isn’t the protagonist.”
“Of course, the readers who disliked your actions were there, but what could be done about it? I simply write down what happens.”
Though the writer shrugged it off, Namgung Bin didn’t find it easy to dismiss.
“Namgung Cheolbin is not the protagonist.”
That phrase had momentarily splashed cold water over his thoughts.
“W-what do you mean by that…?”
“Ah, I guess I was being vague. Namgung Cheolbin is indeed the protagonist! No question—he was the protagonist of not one but two of my novels!”
“…Two?”
Certainly, one of them must have been ’99 Ways to Save the Doomed Martial Arts World.’
Then, the other…?
As if reading Namgung Bin’s thoughts, the writer added an explanation.
“The ’99 Methods’ were about Cheolbin driving away the Blood Cult, remember? And I informed you that the process involving the Celestial Horse was the next novel!”
“Ah… now that you mention it, the part where Cheolbin and I shared a storyline was when we reached number one…”
“The accurate title of the novel is ‘9999 Ways to Save the Vanishing Martial Arts World.’ The ten years you and Cheolbin shared—or more precisely, the nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine lifetimes Cheolbin lived—are all documented here.”
“How many times did he regress, I wondered? Cheolbin, that crazy idiot, regressed nearly ten thousand times…? And… hold on.”
Just as Namgung Bin was astonished at how many times Namgung Cheolbin had regressed, another realization hit him.
“So, if he’s not the protagonist now…?”
“You’re too shocked. Normally, you’d have understood my meaning easily. I told you before, didn’t I? Cheolbin’s journey until stopping the Celestial Horse was the second novel’s storyline. After that process concludes, wouldn’t that lead to some sort of sequel?”
“Four years… four years have passed. Are you saying that what you’ve written in these four years is the new novel?”
“It has been four years from your perspective, but it’s different in our beloved protagonist’s timeline. Hehe, don’t worry about it. Deleted chapters are none of your concern.”
“…!!”
It was a shocking statement.
A new novel.
A new protagonist.
A new… chapter. Or rather, deleted chapter.
To Namgung Bin, who had been steadfast in his belief that Namgung Cheolbin was the protagonist, this revelation came as a fresh shock.
“It’s hard to wrap my head around it.”
“Haha, it’s strange trying to understand in just a few words. Once you return to modern times, why don’t you take a look at the novel? Your contributions are recorded in quite a detailed fashion. Reading the novel will also help clarify what I’ve been saying.”
“…”
“Then, is it time to part ways? Or is there something else you’d like to ask?”
“I do have questions.”
There were many things he wished to ask. About the peculiar feelings he had experienced. Could they have been related to what the writer meant by ‘protagonist’? Was the sense of losing his metaphorical strings due to help from someone who had suddenly disappeared merely an illusion?
But Namgung Bin didn’t ask.
“Because you assured me that reading the book when I return will answer everything.”
Right now, he longed nothing more than to return to his original world as soon as possible.
There was no time to waste.
“Show me how to return.”
“Just open and walk through this door.”
“Ha, finally….”
The writer pointed to a transparent door in the air, which emitted a bright white light, clearly no ordinary door.
With excitement, Namgung Bin took a step towards the door.
“By the way, just one piece of advice.”
To this departing figure, the writer casually called out.
“Karma doesn’t disappear so easily, even when you cross dimensions. That’s not just an empty saying.”
“…?”
“…Just telling you to be careful. You’ve worked hard. Farewell, reincarnator.”
“Keh, if you had just told me this earlier, I might have lived more peacefully in the martial arts world… Well, it was a good experience overall.”
It was finally time to return. The dream he had always longed for.
With a sense of liberation, Namgung Bin stepped one foot into the door of rebirth.
“Then, Writer.”
“Safe journey.”
“Best of luck to you. I won’t bother cheering anymore.”
The next moment, a man who had been a reincarnation for fourteen years woke up on a white bed.
It was an extraordinarily long journey home.