Kill the Author, Then to Hell - Chapter 2.1
The road was just ordinary.
There were no giant trees growing, no two moons in the sky, not even the ground made of gold – nothing like that.
Just asphalt and streetlights emitting a yellowish glow—a typical Korean residential area.
It resembled the neighborhood I lived in when I was young, before moving to an apartment.
“Is this… a dream?”
Despite the too-real pain that a dream wouldn’t be able to emulate, the words came out on their own.
I had no wounds on my body, no pain anywhere.
But the more I looked around, the stranger this place seemed.
“Hello?”
For starters, there wasn’t a single person in sight. No lights were on in the old brick villas.
“Is anybody there?”
I called out a bit louder, but of course, there was no answer.
‘Yikes, feels like a ghost could appear.’
If I’m right about having died, then I’d be that ghost, yet I was terrified. I hunched my body and hurried forward.
Luckily, at the end of the road, I saw a one-story shop emitting light.
<Story World>
Beneath the faded, off-white sign, the window had words like <Fantasy>, <Romance>, <Martial Arts>, <Novel> in equally faded letters.
‘A book rental shop? These still exist?’
It brought back pleasant memories.
As a child, as soon as I got my allowance, I’d run to the rental shop.
I used to sneakily read the books I didn’t want to pay for in a corner, away from the owner’s eyes.
Eventually, e-books and web novels took over, and these shops disappeared.
‘Should I… go in?’
As suspicious as everything was, this was the only place to enter along this road.
Jingle—
The cheerful sound of a bell rang as I stepped into the rental shop.
Past the densely packed bookshelves was a counter, and sitting at that counter was…
‘Phew, a person, a real person!’
Thankfully, this person seemed normal. At least, that’s how she appeared.
The person at the counter didn’t look up until I was right in front of her, allowing me to observe closely.
A young girl, perhaps a middle or high school student?
At work, people would talk about my generation, the MZ generation, as if we were a new species, but this girl seemed more fitting for that label.
Her hair, dyed light purple and tied up high in twin tails, was adorned with numerous plastic hairpins shaped like suns and moons, and her eyes sparkled with glitter.
‘They say kids these days don’t read books.’
Contrary to her TikTok-ready appearance, she was deeply engrossed in a book, flipping pages rapidly.
She must have been here for a long time, surrounded by piles of books she’d read and stacks of empty instant noodle cups.
But first things first, I needed to figure out the situation.
Just as I was about to ask where I was,
“Yeah, pick whatever you like.”
The girl, without even looking up at me, spoke indifferently.
“Fantasy, romance, martial arts, we’ve got it all.”
“Huh? Oh, I’m not here to rent a book. Actually—”
Before I could explain my situation, the girl let out a sigh, as if she’d said this many times before.
“Yes, you’re dead. No, you can’t go back. Yes, you can enter the story of your choice here.”
So, I… I really died.
Even though I suspected it, deep down I hoped it wasn’t true. I wished it was all just a terrible dream.
It felt like cold water had been poured over me, my whole body trembling uncontrollably.
But as reality slowly settled in my heart,
I began to think that maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
<Mom: Jinseo-ya> [1]
From a certain point, just seeing my name called by Mom in a KakaoTalk message made my heart sink. I braced myself for whatever was coming next.
Did Dad come to the house again asking for money? Did my brother cause another new problem?
Dad, who didn’t leave Mom alone after the divorce due to domestic violence, always came asking for money when he was broke.
And my brother, who was kind in my childhood, gradually started to resemble Dad as he grew up.
But what I really couldn’t stand was Mom.
<Dad’s not all bad, he has his reasons. He says he’ll pay back the money.>
<Jinseo-ya, imagine how frustrated your brother must feel? You’re smart and landed a good job. Let’s help him just this once.>
<Jinseo-ya, by any chance, did your salary this month come in already…>
<Jinseo-ya…>
Mom couldn’t report Dad to the police or cut ties with my brother.
She always had sympathy for others, but never for me.
Maybe I was a bit like her, considering I ended up sending money whenever she cried and begged.
<This is the last time.>
I declared firmly each time, but it was pointless. Even in my third year of working, my bank balance was always on the edge after paying off credit card bills.
‘Maybe everyone’d be better off if I just disappear.’
As they say, you only stretch your legs as far as the blanket allows. Maybe Dad and my brother would trouble Mom less if I wasn’t there.
And now, whatever happened to Mom, it wasn’t my responsibility anymore.
Death brought me liberation from all of that.
As I felt the weight lift off my shoulders, the last part of what the girl said echoed in my mind.
Can I enter a story of my choosing here?
‘Wait, isn’t that… totally awesome?’
That’s exactly what I’ve always dreamed of!
[1] Jinseo-ya: The ‘-ya’ at the end is attached to a name as a term of endearment, like ‘-chan’ or ‘-kun’ in Japan. Other versions of this are ‘-ah’ and ‘-ie’, it just depends on the last syllable of the name which one’s used. ↩
