The Reader of the Beginning and Climax

Chapter 1: The Last Chapter

The Book. It was the only thing that had ever felt like home.

For as long as Yoo Jihwan could remember, books were his escape. The real world was cold and indifferent. People glanced at him, but no one ever really saw him. His existence felt more like a shadow than a person. In his room, the walls closing in on him, books were his refuge—his one and only companion. Pages filled with stories of grandeur, worlds of infinite possibilities, where the only limitation was the imagination.

But none of the stories were as captivating as the one he held in his hands.

It had begun innocuously, like any other novel. Jihwan had picked it up from the back corner of a dusty bookstore, its spine cracked and yellowed from age. The title, however, was captivating: "The Reader of Time." It was said to be a legendary tale—one that was never fully understood, with readers coming away with different interpretations. Some swore it was about power. Others thought it was about destiny. But one thing was certain: It was a book that few could finish. Those who tried were often left feeling as if they'd opened a door to something they were never meant to see.

Jihwan devoured the pages, drawn into the narrative with an intensity he had never felt before. The story followed a protagonist who could travel between worlds, each time learning more about his fate—about the grand design of the universe. A simple man, who had no knowledge of the destiny awaiting him, yet was thrust into circumstances where he had no choice but to follow.

The protagonist's journey felt eerily familiar, as though it was a story written for him. It was as if the words themselves were speaking directly to him, as if they knew him in ways he couldn't explain.

[System Notification: Welcome, Reader.]

The first time the message appeared on his screen, Jihwan had thought it was just his imagination. But then it happened again. And again.

[System Notification: New reader detected.]

There was something strange about the way the words would flicker at the corner of his vision. It was subtle at first, barely noticeable. But then, the deeper he got into the book, the more he began to feel as if he wasn't just reading—he was living it.

The characters, the worlds, they all began to blend. He no longer simply consumed the narrative; it was as if the narrative was consuming him. He found himself thinking about the book at all hours of the day, its contents taking hold of him in ways he couldn't explain.

And now, as he reached the last page, the story had grown darker. The protagonist was facing the ultimate choice—one that would decide the fate of everything. Time itself hung in the balance.

[System Notification: The final chapter is upon you.]

The book had been leading up to this moment. He could feel it. The tension that crackled through every page, every sentence, every word. It was a story that was meant to end, but it wasn't just any ending. This was his ending. The conclusion was bound to change everything.

His hand trembled as he reached for the last page. The room around him, already dim and quiet, seemed to fade. The air thickened, and the weight of the words felt heavy on his chest. He had no idea what was coming, but he couldn't stop. He had to know.

The final chapter began.