Tap! Tap! Tap!

The quiet sound of my fingers tapping the keyboard echoed in the darkness. I sat in front of my laptop, my entire focus on the screen.

The room's light was off, as usual. It wasn't that I liked the darkness per se—it was just easier to concentrate. The glare from the overhead light was too harsh on my eyes when I typed, so I always kept it off.

But what really mattered was the story I was working on. After all, I'm a writer—a webnovelist, to be exact.

Now, there are many people in this world who call themselves writers, but what does it really mean to be one? Is it simply someone who writes down a script, or perhaps someone who crafts the plot of a play? Or is it someone who creates entire worlds and characters from their imagination?

The truth is, all those definitions are correct. But for me, writing is more than just a title. It's who I am.

Nowadays, anyone can pick up a pen—or rather, their phone—and write something. With all the platforms available online, it's easier than ever to publish stories and share them with an audience. But with this ease also comes risk. Creativity, once posted, can be stolen by others. It's one thing to be inspired by another story, but to copy it entirely and pass it off as your own? That's a different kind of theft.

Enough about that, though. I shook the thought from my mind, reminding myself to focus on what was right in front of me.

Click!

The sound of the last key pressed felt satisfying. I had just finished the final word of the chapter—no, not just any chapter, the epilogue. The end of my story.

I quickly scanned through for any 'errors', making sure everything was polished before posting it on the platform.

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[Dream of Nothing]

By Jakga Kim

Ratings: 4.5 (2,907 Reviews)

Views: 44M+

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A satisfied expression formed on my lips.

Dream of Nothing. A feature-length fantasy novel, over 1,500 chapters in total. It was a novel written by me, of course.

How long had I been working on this story? Years, definitely. In fact, I'd been steadily writing it for a decade. I'd started it when I was just a teenager, during some of the darkest moments of my life.

I still remember those years—the gradual loss of my parents, the relentless bullying from classmates who said I'd never amount to anything. But through it all, I kept writing.

And now, after ten long years, I'd finally written the conclusion to that story.

A strange mix of emotions welled up inside me. Happiness, that I'd finally completed this world I had created. Sadness, that the journey had come to an end. Without this novel, what would my life have become?

It was hard to say. Maybe I would have become a doctor, like my parents had always wanted. Or a teacher, perhaps. Not a bad life, sure, but I'm glad I chose this path.

"Hmmm."

I leaned back in my chair, contemplating. Why did I even decide to become a writer in the first place?

It started as a hobby, but at some point, I realized I could make a living from it. So I pursued it. If I succeeded, great. If I failed, well, I'd have moved on. Luckily, things didn't go that way.

Still, I couldn't quite pinpoint what exactly made me start writing seriously. There was something from my childhood that pushed me in this direction, but the details had faded. Trying to remember it was like trying to recall the face of someone who changed your diapers—you know it happened, but the memory is blurry at best.

It must have not been important if I was able to forget it so easily.

"Haaawwwn..."

I yawned and my eyes became heavy. I probably stop thinking about unnecessary things and get some sleep.

"Huh? What's this?"

Just as I was about to shut down the laptop, a notification pinged. A message?

Opening it, I saw it was from the webnovel platform. Ah, the readers must be commenting on the epilogue.

I clicked over to the comments section, and sure enough, there were already several new messages:

Faker999– Damnit, author!! Is this really the end?! I can't accept such an ending!!

RoyalKing– What a tasteless conclusion.

FalseReader– Why must you traumatize your readers in this manner? You know what, what I was expecting from a dark story. Of course, it would have a dark ending. In any case, it was a good story.

OneEyedDokkaebi– Not a fan of such a ending it was somewhat lacking but it was a good story.

These were just a few of the comments, but they stood out. They were from readers who had supported me from the very beginning.

A satisfied smile spread across my face. Despite the mixed reactions, they had stayed with me through all the ups and downs. I owed them my gratitude.

Jakga Kim– Thank you everyone for supporting me till the end.

I typed out the response and hit send. Within seconds, the replies rolled in:

OneEyedDokkaebi: Why are you thanking us? If it wasn't for you, this great story wouldn't exist.

RoyalKing: Seriously, Jakga, thank you for writing this.

FalseReader: I'm glad I could read this masterpiece till the end.

Faker999: By the way, is Jakga Kim your real name or just a pen name? It sounds weird for a real name.

I chuckled at the last comment. It wasn't the first time someone had asked me that.

"My name is Jakga Kim (김작가)." (Jakga means writer or author while Kim means gold).

It was a name that often led to misunderstandings. I would always get asked, "Is that really your name?" and "Yes, yes it is" will be my response.

I am a Writer. Thus, I am Jakga but my real name is Kim Jakga, so I am Kim Jakga.

My father gave me that name. He wanted me to be unique, to carve my own path in the world. But ironically, it led to a lot more isolation than uniqueness.

"Ugh..."

I sighed powerlessly. Just thinking about it was enough to cause me depression. As if I wasn't depressed enough.

Ting! Ting!

Another notification? My tired eyes glanced back at the screen. Was it more comments?

I tapped on the notification and saw a new reader username. Honestly, I don't know what to say.

Dragonslayer99– Do you really think you're getting away with this? Stealing someone else's hard work and claiming it as your own? You're nothing but a disgrace, a shameless parasite feeding off others' efforts. I hope karma finds you in the worst way possible. If your mother's alive, I hope someone desecrates her, and if she's dead, I'll piss on her grave and set her tombstone ablaze. But don't think that's the end of it. I could pour all my rage onto every page of every book ever written, and it still wouldn't be enough. I hope you get obliterated by a bus, you WORTHLESS, THIEVING PLAGIARIST!! YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT, I'LL MAKE SURE TO RUIN YOUR OTHER STUPID NOVELS EVEN IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO!!!

I stared at the message, dumbfounded. As a writer, receiving criticism was not a strange occurrance. The readers would have different opinions about your world of creation.

Some would say it's good, some would say it's bad and there is even those that would hate for no particular reason. But this person was different. How do I even describe such a person?

The sheer venom in the words was enough to make my skin crawl. What did I ever do to deserve such hate?

Wait… plagiarism?

It clicked. This must have been that same guy from before, the one who accused me of copying Song of Nightmares which is also a novel I knew. But his words didn't make any sense though.

How could he say I plagiarized that novel even when mine is obviously different? Even the readers has said this as well. In fact, wasn't this guy banned?

Before I could react, my loyal readers jumped to my defense.

OneEyedDokkaebi: Hey, what the hell is wrong with you? You can hate the novel all you want but leave the author's family out of your mouth.

RoyalKing: Who the fuck is this guy? Wait, don't tell me you're the same bastard that keeps writing hate messages to the author.

FalseReader: This is the 1,000 time he's pulling this shit. The bastard does not give up.

RoyalKing: You were keeping count?

FalseReader: Don't you know it's difficult to scroll through those hate messages? How does this bastard have so much free time on his hands? If I had this much free time, I would have become a millionaire.

There was a sense of satisfaction upon reading the messages. It was good to know that there were people that got my back.

My mind wandered and I recalled a distant memory. It wasn't the first time I have received a hate message like this. In fact, It came from the same person.

I couldn't remember his username at the time but his account got banned after he got reported. Even so, that didn't stop this person. He created other accounts, wrote hateful messages, bad reviews and insulted on me on every chapter I posted.

He even went as far as to write bad reviews for my other works like [Broken System], [Advent of the Monkey King], [World Devouring Magician] and [SSS Black Summoner].

I can't even begin to count how many messages and bad reviews that I had to delete because of that person. He was a hater that could only hate.

Even so, my smile widened. His hate messages wasn't completely a bad thing.

The bastard doesn't know that his hate messages were the greatest source of traffic for my story. Was it 60 percent? In any case, I guess I should thank this person.

It was because of him that my stories were popular. But what was the appropriate response to a hater?

Of course, The answer was to continue writing. Funny enough, you can't hate something properly without reading the book first.

Speaking of which, there was another story that I haven't completed yet.

I scrolled through the files on my laptop and the title of the last series finally appeared on the screen.

[Unknown (TXT)]

Funny enough, I remember something like this. It was a story where the writer transmigrates into the work of another writer and becomes the golden writer.

It was a funny concept but it was just a fantasy of mine to enter my favourite story. In fact, it was the dream of every reader/writer to transmigrate into the world of their favourite story even if it was just a fleeting thought. Unfortunately, that was not possible.

Fiction will simply remain as Fiction. Nothing can change that, and if such a scenario occurs by some miracle, then the world was in big serious list of problems.

I don't know why but for some reason, I've been unable to come up with a name. I have a bunch of names in line but those ones are not satisfacting enough. It's important to come up with a good title which would attract the readers. A story without a good title will become ruined.

Maybe I'll come up with a name later. Tomorrow, the former members of the Literature Club will be meeting at a family restaurant. Of course, I'm a member so I will obviously attend and there are people that I want to meet. It has been a long time too. Two years, Yes? So it can't be helped. I'll think of a satisfactory title for this story fter the reunion.

I yawned as I stretched my arms. It took me all night to write the epilogue so I was beyond tired. My muscles were sore, my eyelids were heavy and my butt was hurting from sitting on the same place for long hours.

I stood up from the seat and collapsed on my extremely comfortable bed.

What story awaits me tomorrow? With that question in mind, I slowly lost consciousness and entered the dream world.