I’m an Infinite Regressor, But I’ve Got Stories to Tell
Chapter 23
Bab ini belum diterjemahkan ke Bahasa Indonesia
Naskah di bawah ini ditampilkan sementara dari versi English asli.
Reader III
“Too good of an environment?”
What was wrong with that?
“Hah. I think you’ve got some fantasies about what it means to be a writer. Writers are laborers, plain and simple. They write to earn money and gain attention.”
Oh Dok-seo, the self-proclaimed web novel expert, said this. As mentioned earlier, we'll delve deeper into who this Oh Dok-seo is at another time.
For now, it’s enough to know that Oh Dok-seo was a nerd fashion trendsetter, always sporting a red bob haircut, a cap, a band-aid on her nose, and her favorite hoodie.
“Just making sure, you're not using telepathy right now?”
“I’ve turned it off.”
“Good. Now, have you ever seen a construction worker swinging a hammer purely for self-fulfillment? Someone who says, ‘I love unloading crates so much that I want to do it for the rest of my life’?”
“Well… not often.”“That’s exactly it.”
Oh Dok-seo chewed her gum, blowing a bubble.
By the way, it wasn’t bubble gum, just regular chewing gum. Of course, it didn’t inflate properly, making a faint, hissing noise before bursting and sticking to her lips.
She wiped her mouth nonchalantly, fully embodying her nerd fashionista, edgy, middle-schooler persona.
“Remember, writing comes from a place of scarcity.”
Oh Dok-seo’s expression was serious.
Or rather, she was deadly serious.
I don’t usually use that phrase, but in this case, it was warranted. If I didn’t use ‘deadly’ to describe Oh Dok-seo’s face, it would be disrespecting the word’s very existence.
“Why give them an allowance? Take it away. Throw them into the depths of despair. Make them watch people being slaughtered by monsters. You’re strong, right? You can do it, so why aren’t you?”
“Hmm…”
“Just don’t kill them. Oh, and keep their hands and backs intact. You just need to make sure they're not crippled. Writers actually produce better work when exploited.”
Oh Dok-seo spoke with the confidence of someone who believed truth should serve them, not the other way around.
“Weren’t they all doomed to die if not for you? So, if they stay alive, you’ve done your job, haven’t you?”
Is that so? Is it really?
‘That makes sense.’
It was worth testing.
Assuming the failure of the Canned Hotel in the 560th cycle, I trained the writers according to Oh Dok-seo’s advice in the next cycle.
Instead of heaven, I gave them a taste of a milder hell.
“Kyaaaah!”
“Somebody help! Help me!”
I took the writers for a little walk beyond their accommodations.
-Honkkk! Beep!
-Honk! Honk! Honk!
-Honnkkkkk! Beep Beep!
The Isekai Trucks exceeded a thousand.
Not only the parking lot but the road leading to the accommodations was packed with 11-ton trucks, replicating the traffic jams of Chuseok holidays. Trucks collided, overturned, and crashed as they pursued the writers in a surreal scene.
And that wasn’t all.
“Ugh, it’s cold…”
“I’m hungry… I want yukgaejang…”
“Moooom…”
The environment had changed too.
Instead of a luxury hotel, I set up a shabby refugee camp for the writers. No chef fairies cooking gourmet meals. No casino dealer fairies. None of that.
Even the equipment provided was cheap.
Watching the writers sit on the dirt floor, staring blankly at the ceiling or crying their eyes out, pained me. But shock therapy exists for a reason.
I spoke.
“Ah, mic check. Writers, from now on, you’ll be living in this village. I will try to protect you from most dangers, but I can’t guarantee your safety. The harder you write, and the more entertaining your stories are, the more resources you’ll have.”
“……”
“I love you, writers. I wish you the best.”
And something miraculous happened.
This extreme treatment actually worked!
The writers were driven to write as if possessed. Out of 335, not one was idle.
Their writing speed was incomparable to the last cycle!
I couldn’t help but be moved.
“These are true writers, and this is how much they should write.”
Looking at the pile of manuscripts brought a smile to my face.
But as I eagerly flipped through the pages――
“…Hmm?”
Something felt off.
Like a dog startled by unfamiliar food, I instinctively paused while holding the manuscript.
“Why… why does this taste spoiled?”
It was different.
The flavor of the writing had changed.
The fantasy writer who once sang about the triumphs of humanity was now writing a story about the demon king's army butchering everything. A yuri author, known for heartwarming characters, had monsters tearing couples apart. Zombies appeared in martial arts stories and destroyed the Martial Realm. Across all genres, characters were in despair, and the world was falling apart.
And then I realized.
“This isn’t genre fiction!”
Pure literature!
The flavor was unmistakably pure literature!
And the particular kind that screams, ‘everything’s screwed, so screw it all!’
The familiar scent of the web novel authors I loved was gone, replaced by a stranger’s fragrance. It felt like catching my partner cheating.
‘It’s well-written. Very well-written, but…’
This wasn’t the kind of food I wanted!
If I wanted despair, I could just reflect on my life as a regressor. Why should I read despair fiction in my free time? Was I a masochist?
No matter how much effort the authors put in, they couldn't compete with my firsthand knowledge of how terrible monsters could be or how far humanity could fall. Their attention to detail didn’t measure up to mine.
‘What have I done to my authors?’
This couldn’t stand.
I immediately sought out Oh Dok-seo to complain. But even considering the different cycle, she remained uninterested.
“Not fun? So what?”
Oh Dok-seo casually filed her nails.
“A creative work just needs to have the author’s spirit, right? Why should they sell their soul just for your amusement?”
“……”
“You said you love these authors. Shouldn’t you love them no matter what they write? What’s wrong? Has your love changed? Wow. I didn’t think you’d be so harsh.”
“……”
“Then again, maybe it’s my fault for expecting anything from humans again. Can love change? Can people shift? Oh, and by ‘shift,’ I mean ‘shit.’ Catchy rhyme, right?”
I couldn’t reason with this edgy, middle-school poser!
Thus, the 561st cycle’s Canned Hotel was also a complete failure.
Back to square one, I pondered.
Too much comfort was no good because it took away the motivation to write.
Too much suffering was also no good because it overwhelmed the writing itself.
‘This is a tough nut to crack. How can I cultivate tasty web novels? Are authors inherently doomed from the start?’
I mulled it over and over.
Eventually, I reached a conclusion.
In the next cycle, SG Net, which had only a community function, got a new board.
A novel serialization board.
The announcement posted on the board read:
[Novel Serialization Board Usage Guide]
1. All registered SG Net members receive novel points daily upon logging in.
2. Novel points can be used to purchase new chapters of novels or donate to your favorite author.
3. Points used by readers will be transferred to the authors. Authors can use these points to purchase desired items, which will be notified separately.
4. At 24:00 every day, the board will display the rankings of all novels based on how many readers purchased them.
5. For non-awakened authors who cannot access SG Net, a manager service is available. The manager will upload the non-awakened author's work to the board. Members can also upload on behalf of non-awakened authors they know.
6. Let’s create a healthy competitive culture!
In other words, I had created a platform for serializing novels.
Members’ initial reactions were lukewarm.
-Anonymous: Can anyone post a novel?
-[Yuldoguk] SwordMarquess: It’s time to unveil my profound prose to the world.
-[Samcheon] WitchJudge: I was a bit bored since there wasn't much to do besides community stuff, so this is nice.
-Anonymous: What items can you buy with points?
-OldManGoryeo: Probably only shitty stuff will be uploaded. Any author wannabes thinking of serializing better watch out. I’ll comment on every chapter.
-dolLHoUse: hype
-[Baekhwa SixthGrader: Hoeng...{( >_
