Chapter 91

Chapter 91

Chapter 91 Book Café (3)

‘Why are they making me come all the way out to a place like this just to take a picture? Seriously.’

When he'd first visited after being tempted by the words “second support payment,” he'd thought it would simply be easy free money.

After all, they'd come all the way to the goshiwon where he lived carrying cash.

Thinking he could live for a while without worrying about rent or food thanks to that second support payment, he headed straight to the welfare center he'd been told about the very next day.

But this time there was a condition attached. And a somewhat troublesome one at that.

‘You're a writer? Ah, I see. We'll register you as a freelancer for now. But freelancers who work from home are required to go to one of the designated cafés here and conduct work activities there. No, no. You only have to go twice for three hours each!’

It wasn't even in Seoul, but on the outskirts of Gyeonggi Province, requiring four transfers between subway and bus.

He'd asked if there was somewhere a little closer.

‘I'm sorry. Since this is a support program, cafés and shared offices aren't very cooperative. This is the only place available this year.’

He was now stuck with a four-hour round-trip commute from Noryangjin to Namyangju.

But no one could beat money.

And so, carrying his laptop and arriving with his body utterly exhausted, he found not a café.

“A coffeehouse?”

That was definitely what the sign said. Or rather, what it seemed to have once said. The lettering had long since faded away, leaving only faint traces behind.

It was even difficult to tell whether the building was actually open for business.

There was a large doghouse in front of the door, and nearby there was nothing but a prefabricated structure of unknown purpose and a bus stop.

It didn't look like anyone would ever come here.

‘That's probably why they're participating in a support program like this. Whatever. I only have to stay for three hours and leave.’

Whether someone was running a business beneath a sign that looked ready to collapse wasn't his concern. Considering their circumstances, even the owner of a place like this was probably much better off than he was, living in a goshiwon.

-Jingle.

“Welcome.”

And when he opened the door and stepped inside, it truly was a coffeehouse run by a young owner.

Perhaps the man suffered from an extreme case of hipster obsession, because the polished floor, faded wallpaper, sofas, and tables all looked nearly as old as Seo Hanrim himself, who had just entered his early forties.

The strange thing was that despite being a café like this, there were scattered customers sitting at the tables.

‘Right, they told me to hand this over.’

“Um, this...”

Once he actually tried to say that he'd come all the way out to this remote village for a small amount of money, embarrassment made his voice trail off.

-Scratch, scratch.

He suddenly worried that the owner might start talking about the support program loudly enough for the other customers to hear, but fortunately, the owner said nothing, simply signed the appropriate line and handed the application back.

“You can sit wherever you're comfortable. One drink is included for free. What would you like?”

“Ah, an iced Americano, please.”

“We don't have iced Americano on the menu. There's a menu board on the wall over there, so take a look and let me know once you've decided.”

‘What kind of café doesn't have iced Americano... Ah.’

It didn't.

Even the menu board hanging on the wall seemed to have been preserved exactly as it had been back in those days.

The only caffeinated drink on it was simply listed as “Coffee.”

“I'll have coffee, please.”

“All right. Have a seat and I'll bring it right over.”

Seo Hanrim chose the table tucked deepest into the corner, where he was least visible.

‘They said to open my work screen on the laptop and take a picture, right? Is it because they're civil servants too? It's all fake paperwork. No wonder taxes are so high.’

He finally felt like he understood where all the taxes that had taken more money than expected back when his novels were popular had gone.

Of course, now that his income had dried up and he was the one receiving that tax money back, one could argue it was being used properly after all.

-Click.

And with that, his work for the day ended after he opened a document file, took a photo, and sent it directly to the person in charge.

All that remained was to play games on his phone in this old coffeehouse for three hours before going home.

But once he actually tried to close the laptop and start playing, he felt self-conscious.

The owner sitting behind the counter obviously knew exactly why he had come here.

If he simply wasted time and left, he'd look exactly like the tax thieves he'd just been cursing in his head.

‘Yeah, I have to come again tomorrow too. That would be awkward, wouldn't it?’

And so, just as the scroll of the novel that had remained frozen on the same page for sixteen years was about to move again for the first time in ages,

-Click.

“Enjoy.”

Along with a greeting that was neither particularly friendly nor indifferent, a dark-colored cup of coffeehouse coffee was set down alone on the table.

‘It really is coffeehouse coffee?’

-Sip.

“Mm?”

It wasn't ordinary instant coffee.

With only a single sip, an indescribable savory richness swept through his mouth.

After draining the entire cup in one go, how much time had passed?

-Clatter, clatter.

Before long, the keyboard of the old laptop began making a lively sound.

And then,

-Whoosh.

‘What was that? Is it because the laptop's old?’

In the middle of concentrating for the first time in ages, Seo Hanrim noticed a faint blue light briefly settle across his laptop screen before disappearing.

_____________

I had now become the protagonist of a possession novel.

No, to be precise, not the protagonist, but a supporting character near the protagonist.

When I opened my Divine Eyes and looked at the monster attached to Seo Hanrim's novel, just as expected, I was pulled into the world inhabited by that monster.

I'd imagined something like this before.

What would it be like to suddenly possess someone inside a book, like the common opening of trendy martial arts or fantasy novels these days?

There were a few convenience services that usually came with it.

You could understand the language, know the past of the character you'd possessed, or perhaps even receive the commonly included status window.

But those elements were ultimately only bonus services.

Like the tinting or dashcam that usually came with a car purchase.

The most powerful cheat possessed by these book-possession stories was knowing what happened later in the book.

Knowing the future was that appealing.

Even though people constantly called it cliché, possession stories had become enough of a genre to develop their own subcategory.

There was no need to make any special effort to figure out who I'd possessed.

An empty training ground deep in the night, and an old sword in my hand.

I was Changbi, a supporting character in Conquest of the Martial World who served as the protagonist's right-hand man. He'd entered the martial world late in life, only reached third-rate skill, and spent his days wandering between low-ranking guard jobs.

But he was a man who worked harder than anyone.

Just like now, when he always remained alone in the training ground until the very end, swinging his sword.

Then an act of righteousness he'd performed by chance caught the protagonist's eye, and eventually he followed a dramatic path that led him to become captain of the Changbi Unit, named after himself.

His clothes looked fairly neat, so had the Changbi Unit already been formed?

If so, that meant the story was at least past the halfway point. I wondered whether the Murder Sect had already been dealt with.

This was martial arts fiction from an era when blood sprayed and heads flew off without a second thought.

Even if this was only a possessed world, I'd rather avoid experiences like that.

Thinking about it now, Changbi was the kind of character who handled all the protagonist's dirty work, so if I didn't resolve this quickly and get out, I might genuinely end up in sword fights I had never expected to experience in my life.

Of course, before that happened, I'd simply close the Mind's Eye and leave.

But if I did that, all the effort spent tracking down Seo Hanrim and bringing him here would be wasted.

While I was busily thinking things through,

“Captain, the Sect Master is looking for you.”

A disciple who handled miscellaneous duties cautiously entered and delivered the news that the Sect Master wanted to see me.

Thank goodness.

The Sect Master meant Hyeongang, the protagonist.

The moment Hyeongang became the Sect Master of Hao Gate, Changbi's importance dropped sharply.

He was what you'd call a supporting character left behind by power inflation.

And it made sense.

The protagonist went around forming ties with outstanding heroes from the Five Great Clans and Nine Great Sects and One Gang, so how could a subordinate who had only just become a first-rate expert continue to play an important role?

A first-rate expert was still someone difficult to approach in the martial world, but as the story moved toward the later stages, the protagonist and his enemies fought while displaying abilities beyond human limits, making it difficult for someone like Changbi to even remain nearby.

On top of that, novels had an unwritten rule that it was difficult to meaningfully fit more than three characters into a single scene.

As a result, in the latter half he simply remained beside the protagonist like air and occasionally appeared in unavoidable final battles just to deliver a single line like, ‘Sect Master, are you all right?’

It was unfair from Changbi's perspective, but for me, it was a pretty good condition.

Yeah, this much was manageable.

“Captain?”

“Ah, I'm sorry. I'll go right away.”

But where was I supposed to go?

“Um... where is the Sect Master?”

“Pardon? You don't know where the Upper Hall is?”

“My training was somewhat strenuous today. Could you at least point me in the general direction?”

“Even so, how could you forget the Upper Hall you visit every day...”

“Haha, I suppose I should cut back on training a little.”

______________

As expected, a place I'd only read about and imagined was completely different in reality.

Who would've guessed that the Hao Gate headquarters, described simply as “large and splendid,” had such a complicated layout?

Since it was dawn, there weren't many people walking around either, so it took quite some time to find the Upper Hall.

After asking around repeatedly, I finally arrived at the Upper Hall where Hyeongang, the protagonist, was.

“It's Changbi.”

“Ah, come in.”

At last, the moment had come to meet Hyeongang.

The idol and hero I'd wanted to become like back then and had cheered for tirelessly was right on the other side of this door.

-Slide.

The door opened.

Beyond it was an interior furnished with simple objects, and a handsome young master dressed in pitch-black clothes.

His face looked like several delicately featured male actors combined, and even his body resembled a civil official more than a martial artist.

I hadn't even exchanged more than a few words with him yet, but I finally understood why so many women had liked Hyeongang.

With a face like that, even feelings that hadn't existed before would spring into being.

“Why are you standing there? Come in and sit down.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Even his habit of always speaking politely to subordinates and those beneath him was exactly as written in the novel.

He was also holding the long smoking pipe that had been described as something he habitually kept in his mouth, apparently unaware that it was bad for his health.

“Now all that remains is capturing the Murder Sect. But we still have no clue. Have the people sent by the Changbi Unit reported anything?”

I didn't know.

Details that specific hadn't been written out individually in the novel.

“We haven't received any message yet. I'll report as soon as one arrives.”

“I see.”

-Slide. Thud.

With a single gesture from Hyeongang, the open door suddenly slammed shut.

“Hao Gate has the eyes and ears of its disciples everywhere, so we do not send separate people to gather information. Nor have I ever ordered Changbi to investigate.”

-Shing.

Hyeongang's trademark flexible sword slid from his waist.

There wasn't even a sound of it cutting through the air, yet in the blink of an eye, it was pointed at my throat.

“Who are you? Why are you wearing Changbi's appearance?”

Damn.

Looks like that was the wrong answer.