Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint (Web Novel KR)

In the dream, Kim Dokja called me Cheon Inho. But when I listened closely, it seemed like he was calling me Lee Hakheon.
No, on second thought…
「■■■.」

I couldn’t quite make out what he was saying.
Still, Kim Dokja was there, and I was standing right beside him.
We were staring out at a vast snowfield.

A snowfield filled with drifting letters.
It was so vast that no matter how many letters floated in the air, they could never cover it all.
「How long have you been here.」

I might have asked him that—or maybe not.
「A very long time.」
And Kim Dokja might have answered like that—or maybe not.
As we gazed at the snowfield for a long time, something like footprints caught my eye.

They were human footprints.
Kim Dokja jerked his chin at me, as if suggesting we try following them, then began walking along the prints.
I followed after him.

「Must’ve been someone with huge feet.」
We stepped into the large footprints, placing our own feet over them. Sometimes, we misstepped, leaving stray prints in the snow.
「Ah.」

Kim Dokja laughed brightly, and I found myself laughing too.
「■■■ will probably get mad.」
It seemed like he said something along those lines.

I don’t know how long we walked.
For some reason, the large footprints split into two paths. One set kept going straight ahead, while the other veered off diagonally.
Then… were there actually two owners of the big footprints from the beginning?

I couldn’t be sure.
The sizes were identical.
For whatever reason, there were suddenly two owners of the footprints now. One went straight, and the other walked diagonally away.

I stared at the path going straight, then placed my feet in it and followed for a dozen or so steps.
And then—
「It ends here.」
The footprints had stopped.

Where had their owner disappeared to?
As I gazed blankly at the end of the tracks, a strange thought crossed my mind.
What if the owner of the footprints… was still standing right here on top of them?

I turned around, and Kim Dokja was standing still, watching me.
I waved to him and asked:
「Do you think I can keep walking down this way?」

Kim Dokja nodded.
I asked again:
「Like before, I might step wrong.」

「It’s fine.」
「I might ruin the whole snowfield.」
「So what.」

Was it really okay?
I wanted to ask again and again, countless times.
Kim Dokja grinned, saying something. Unfortunately, I couldn’t catch the last words clearly.

「I’ll be watching the whole time.」
That’s roughly what it sounded like.
***

“Inho-ssi! Inho-ssi!”
Pain racked my body. My wounded side throbbed, and my severed left arm screamed with agony.
“You promised you wouldn’t fall asleep! It’s already started!”
“Ugh, sorry.”

So I’d dozed off. And of all things, why did I dream something like a fairy tale?
“Even Pinocchio didn’t sleep during a mission.”
It must’ve been because she mentioned Pinocchio. Even now, Kim Dokja’s last words lingered in my head.

Looking around, I saw the stomach acid was already starting to gush from the monster’s stomach.
Jung Heewon was drenching me with “Sea Horse Mucus.” The sticky liquid ran down my body, making my shoulders flinch involuntarily.
“Hold still. You said we need this to be safe.”

She slathered herself with the mucus as well.
Our operation was simple.
One: coat our bodies with mucus, which had resistance against the sea dragon’s stomach acid.

Two: once the acid began ejecting, jam “Stonehog Spikes” into the acid vents.
The exact same strategy Kim Dokja had used in the original.
The only difference was…

“By the way, who’s Kim Dokja?”
“…What?”
“You mumbled it just now, half-asleep.”

“Ah.”
I hesitated for a moment, then spoke.
“Just… a friend’s name.”

As she wrung the mucus into my hair, Jung Heewon pressed further:
“Then what about Ji Eunyeoo?”
“…I said that too?”

“Yep. You ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ were begging them to save you.”
Maybe I’d been on a deadline, even in my dreams.
“That’s the name of my editor.”

“Editor?”
Maybe I could be a little honest. She had no idea what Cheon Inho’s original job was anyway. Probably some scammer or crook.
“I used to be a writer.”

Better a writer than a con artist, right?
Her eyes lit up.
“Wow, a writer? What did you write?”

“Uh… do you know web novels?”
“Web novels? Like webtoons?”
“More like… The Lord of the Rings.”

“Oh, The Lord of the Rings! I saw the movie! You wrote something like that?”
“Well… something similar…”
Why was my voice shrinking like this?

[A constellation who has not yet revealed their modifier urges you to speak proudly.]
Easy for them to say.
I sighed lightly.

“Please, keep it a secret from the others.”
“Why? I think it’s cool.”
This is why I can’t deal with social butterflies.

“Anyway, let’s get started. Take this and stick one in each vent.”
“You sure know how to change the subject, writer-nim.”
Grumbling, she went where I pointed and planted the spikes.

As expected of someone with main-character-level physical ability.
There were four vents in total.
Jung Heewon blocked three of them with a spike each, sealing them tightly so no acid could leak.

“Only one left.”
“For the last one, we’ll put in the rest of the spikes.”
“Is that okay?”

“Yeah. It should work even better.”
The “Stonehog Spikes” were items that absorbed sea monsters’ fluids and grew.
Kim Dokja had blocked a vent with only one spike.

But in theory, the more spikes jammed into a vent, the better. More spikes meant more growth, and the faster the sea dragon would collapse.
“One down.”
The vent clogged instantly as the spike embedded itself.

With the second spike, the sea dragon’s stomach twisted grotesquely.
The third spike wasn’t so easy. She grimaced, struggling to push it in.
“Three is tough… can you brace me from behind?”

“I would if my arm weren’t like this.”
“Then just use your back. Like this.”
I pressed my back against hers. She inhaled sharply, then shoved the spike in with all her strength.

The surface beneath us tilted dangerously, but the spike went in firmly.
She exhaled in relief.
“Is that all of them?”

“Yeah. Now we wait.”
“Wow. That was simple.”
It was quicker than I expected. In the original, Kim Dokja had struggled, even practicing alone beforehand.

[The constellation, ‘Sneaking Schemer,’ admires your composure.]
[A constellation who has not yet revealed their modifier scoffs that this is just a “Sea Serpent,” so of course it’s easy.]
By my calculations, it would take half a day to a full day to subdue the sea dragon.

Since we’d used more spikes and this dragon was smaller than the one in the novel, it might fall even sooner.
All that was left now… was waiting.
With the tension gone, the cold hit me hard. No wonder, since I was drenched from the river.

Seeing me shiver pitifully, Jung Heewon made an unexpected offer.
“Want to sit back-to-back?”
“If you don’t mind, I’d be grateful.”

“Face that way, then.”
We sat with our backs pressed together. Her warmth seeped through, easing the chill.
She asked:

“So how did you come up with this plan?”
“It’s just something that often shows up in web novels.”
“Right, you said you were a writer.”

With the warmth at my back, drowsiness crept in.
If only I had “Spirit of the Ellain Forest” from the dokkaebi bag—it knocked you out cold but healed all your wounds. But I couldn’t use it now.
I couldn’t risk leaving Jung Heewon alone.

Maybe sensing that, she kept talking to me.
“Tell me a fun story, then.”
As a writer, this was the worst request.

Writers aren’t funny people. None of the ones I know are.
Still, I scraped together a thin thread of humor.
“There’s actually a character named Jung Heewon in my novel.”

“…What?”
“She looks really strong on the outside, but inside she’s fragile. She never avoids a fight, so she often ends up breaking.”
I thought of the Jung Heewon I knew.

But could I really say that the Jung Heewon in my novel was the same as the one sitting behind me right now?
I went on.
“She’s quick and athletic. Back in high school, some younger girls even confessed to her.”

“……”
“She can’t stand injustice and she’s skilled with a sword. She trained in kendo from a young age.”
At that, Jung Heewon clapped her hands together. Genuine amazement colored her tone.

“Wow, you’re spot on.”
Of course. It was nearly identical to the original.
“Except you got one thing wrong. I never went to a kendo academy. Just the school kendo club.”

I know. I’d lied on purpose.
“Too bad.”
“I even competed at the national games, represented my district once… but I had to quit.”

“…Why?”
“Injury.”
That part I didn’t know.

Or rather, I’d never written it.
“Injury? Was it serious?”
She fell silent for a beat, then answered quietly:

“Yes.”
It hit me again—this world truly had stories I had never written.
I remembered then: her attribute was The One Who Crouches.

How had she come to bear that?
That attribute was born from a strong mental shock to a mortal vessel.
But Jung Heewon already had it before she ever encountered the Cheoldoo Group.

“Inho-ssi, how did you become a writer?”
“Ah, me….”
I almost continued naturally—but froze.

A chilling sensation scraped across my chest.
「Why did I become a writer in the first place?」
I couldn’t remember.

It was then that the sea dragon’s stomach convulsed ominously.
I steadied myself quickly.
“Looks like it’s starting.”

No more time for stray thoughts.
The real battle began now.
Would the sea dragon collapse first, or would we?

I tore my shirt into strips, tying our wrists together by the sleeves.
Worried, Jung Heewon asked:
“Won’t you be cold? Kyaa!”

The floor shuddered violently.
The sea dragon twisted in pain, the spikes digging deeper into its flesh.