I killed him twenty times.
I broke his mind, tore out his heart, and fed his dreams to the shadows. I wrote him into a corner where death was the only mercy, and then I denied him even that.
Why? Because tragedy sells. Because the readers loved a broken, beautiful monster.
So, really... I suppose I deserve this.
Drip.
A thick, metallic liquid splattered onto my cheek. It was warm. Too warm.
My eyelids felt like they had been glued shut with lead. I forced them open, fighting the grogginess that clung to my brain like wet cotton.
"Ugh..."
The first thing I saw was gray stone.
The second thing I saw was a severed arm.
It wasn't mine. It belonged to a man wearing a tactical vest, his fingers still clutching a shattered magic rifle. The name tag on the vest read 'Park Min-Soo, B-Rank.'
I blinked, my breath hitching in my throat. I knew that name. I wrote that name. Park Min-Soo. A minor antagonist in Chapter 3. A greedy Raid Leader who sacrifices his porters to escape a boss room.
If he was dead... then where was I?
I tried to scramble backward, but my back hit a cold, damp wall. The air smelled of ozone, rotting meat, and high-grade mana.
Ding!
A clear, cheerful sound rang inside my head, completely at odds with the carnage around me. A translucent blue window materialized in the air.
[Synchronization Complete.]
[Welcome to the World of
[Host: Han Seo-Yeon -> Current Body: Lee Yuna (Extra)]
My blood ran cold.
Lee Yuna?
I racked my brain, sifting through the encyclopedic knowledge of my own novel. Lee Yuna. Lee Yuna…
Ah.
I remembered.
She wasn't even a villain. She was a 'passing extra #3'. An F-Rank porter with a constitution score of 4, who dies in the prologue to showcase the cruelty of the protagonist.
"No way," I whispered, my voice trembling.
[System Error! Plot deviation detected!]
[The protagonist is currently in a state of 'Extreme Instability'.]
[Initiating Emergency Protocol: Dangerous Male Lead Rehabilitation System.]
"Rehabilitation?" I choked out a laugh that sounded more like a sob. "You want me to rehabilitate him?"
I didn't get to finish my sentence.
The air in the cavern suddenly grew heavy. It wasn't just pressure; it was killing intent. The kind of aura that didn't just scare you—it told your cells to commit suicide before he got to you.
The shadows in the corner of the dungeon began to writhe.
They didn't behave like normal shadows. They boiled, twisting and snapping like starving dogs.
From that darkness, a silhouette emerged.
Step. Step.
The sound of boots on wet stone echoed like thunder.
I stopped breathing.
He was tall. Taller than I had imagined when I typed the words '188cm, towering over the mortals.' His tactical gear was shredded, revealing pale skin underneath. But it wasn't the gear that drew the eye.
It was the blood.
He was drenched in it. It coated his hair, his face, his hands. It dripped from his chin like a macabre varnish.
And yet, beneath the gore... he was breathtaking.
Sharp, aristocratic features. Hair as black as the void he commanded. And eyes…
My breath caught.
His eyes were supposed to be a cold, dull rust color. But right now? They were glowing a violent, radioactive crimson.
[Warning! Target: Yoon JieMi]
[Current State: Frenzy]
[Sanity Level: 3%]
Three percent.
I had written him to be unstable, but 3% was functionally a rabid beast.
Yoon JieMi stopped in the center of the room. He was surrounded by the corpses of the raid team that had tried to betray him. He didn't look triumphant. He looked... bored.
He flicked his wrist.
A dagger made of solidified shadow dissolved into smoke.
"So loud," he murmured.
His voice was a low baritone, scratching against my eardrums. It was the voice of a man who hadn't slept in a week.
He tilted his head, his glowing red eyes scanning the carnage. He was looking for survivors. Not to save them. But to silence them.
I pressed my hand over my mouth, tears pricking my eyes.
I did this.
I wrote this scene. In the original draft, Yoon JieMi slaughters the traitorous team, and then, in a fit of mana-induced psychosis, kills the cowering porter in the corner.
That porter was me.
Move, I screamed at my legs. Run. Beg. Do something!
But my F-Rank body was paralyzed by the S-Rank fear status.
Yoon JieMi turned.
Slowly. Like a predator sensing a disturbance in the wind.
His gaze swept across the room and locked onto me.
The air left my lungs.
It felt like being submerged in ice water. Being looked at by Yoon JieMi wasn't like being looked at by a human. It was like being observed by a natural disaster.
He took a step toward me.
[System Alert!]
[Host life in imminent danger!]
[Quest Generated: Survive the First Encounter.]
[Reward: Access to 'Author's Privileges' (Level 1)]
[Failure Consequence: Death. (Real Death. No respawn, Author-nim!)]
"Author-nim?" The AI voice whined in my ear.
"Please, move! QQ is scared! He's going to turn us into paste!"
I ignored the screaming AI. I couldn't look away from him.
He was in front of me in a heartbeat. No, faster.
One second he was ten meters away, the next, the smell of iron and death was overwhelming my senses.
He loomed over my cowering form, blocking out the dungeon's dim light.
He crouched down, bringing his face level with mine. Up close, he was even more terrifying. The black veins on his neck were pulsing, a side effect of using too much shadow mana.
He tilted his head again, a bird-like, jerky motion.
"A rat," he whispered.
He reached out. His hand, stained with the blood of the Raid Leader, hovered near my face. His fingers were long, elegant, and lethal.
"I missed one," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "Why are you still breathing?"
It wasn't a question. It was an accusation.
My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. Think. Think, you idiot author! What halts his frenzy? What did I write in his character sheet?
Draft 4: He likes silence.
Draft 12: He hates the smell of fear.
Draft 20: He wants...
What did he want?
I had rewritten him so many times I couldn't remember which trauma ruled him right now.
His hand closed around my throat.
It wasn't a choke. Not yet. It was a test of the grip. His thumb rested against my pulse point. His skin was freezing cold.
"You're shaking," he noted, sounding mildly disgusted. "Disgusting."
The shadows behind him rose up, forming sharp spikes. He was going to skew me. He was going to turn me into a pincushion just to stop my trembling.
[System Warning: Heart rate critical!]
[Target intends to execute 'Instant Kill'.]
"Wait..." I croaked.
His eyes narrowed. The pressure on my throat increased slightly. "Wait?"
"Don't..." I gasped, my hands instinctively clutching his wrist. It was like holding onto a block of ice. "Don't... use the shadows."
JieMi froze.
Not because I touched him. But because of what I said.
In this world, no one knew the nature of his power. The government called it 'Dark Matter'. The public called it 'Demon Arts'.
Only he knew they were living shadows.
And only the Author knew that using them caused him agonizing physical pain, like tearing his own skin apart.
His glowing eyes widened a fraction. The apathy cracked, revealing a razor-sharp confusion.
"What did you say?" he hissed.
I swallowed hard against his grip. I had to gamble. I had to bet on the one thing that remained consistent across all twenty drafts.
His loneliness.
"It hurts you," I whispered, staring directly into those terrifying crimson eyes. "Using them... it hurts you, doesn't it? Yoon JieMi."
Silence.
Absolute, suffocating silence.
The spikes of darkness hovering behind him didn't vanish, but they stopped vibrating.
He leaned in closer. So close that his breath fanned across my face. It smelled of mint and blood. A dizzying combination.
"Who are you?"
His voice had dropped an octave. The boredom was gone. Now, there was only a dangerous, obsessive curiosity.
He tightened his grip on my throat, just enough to cut off my air, forcing me to look up at him.
"I've never told anyone my name," he said, his voice soft and deadly. "I've never told anyone about the pain."
He smiled.
It was the smile I had described in Chapter 10. The smile he wore before he burned down a city.
"Answer me," he commanded, his thumb digging into my windpipe. "Before I decide to tear you open to see where you're hiding my secrets."
[System Notification]
[Target Interest Level has risen from 'Trash' to 'Suspicious Object'.]
[Survival chance: 15%]
[Select your next dialogue option carefully!]
I looked at the blue screen, then back at the monster I created.
I realized then that I hadn't just fallen into a story.
I had fallen into a cage with a beast I had starved for years.
And I looked delicious.
"I..." My voice failed me.
"Answer," he snapped, the shadows flaring up again.
I closed my eyes and screamed the first thing that came to my mind. The only thing that could explain why a nobody F-Rank knew his deepest secret.
"Because I've been watching you!"
...
…
Silence.
I opened one eye.
Yoon JieMi was staring at me. The murderous intent had stalled.
He looked... baffled.
"Watching me?" he repeated slowly.
[System Alert!]
[Critical misunderstanding imminent!]
[Target has interpreted 'Watching' as 'Stalking/Obsession'.]
[New Title Acquired: The Monster's Stalker.]
Oh no.
JieMi's grip on my throat loosened, turning into a caress that was infinitely more terrifying than the choke. His thumb brushed over my trembling lip.
The red glow in his eyes dimmed, replaced by a dark, swirling amusement.
"You've been watching me suffer?" he asked, his voice dripping with a twisted sort of delight. "And you know my pain?"
He leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear.
"How perverted," he whispered. "I think I'll keep you."
[Chapter 1 - End]