Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint Chapter 543 - Epilogue 4 – The Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint (8)

It was as if they were honoring a pact, for the companions had all drifted apart to seek their individual destinies.

While some established security firms, others opted to serve within governmental roles.

Han Su-Yeong, however, chose a path of her own. Abandoning organizations, she became a transmitter of knowledge.

⸢⸢Interpreting Contemporary Philosophy Through S⸥⸥

That was the title she presented during her lectures at the center.

Ever since the final scenario reached its conclusion, the barriers between reality and the fantastic had reasserted themselves.

“And so, when we apply Roland Barthes’ ‘Mourning Diary’ to this piece of literature....”

Many listeners wore expressions of confusion, as if she were spouting nonsense akin to “dipping a croissant in ssamjang sauce,” yet a select few students appeared genuinely captivated by the notion.

One attendee raised his hand, offering a polite challenge. “Your perspective is undeniably fascinating, Professor. Though, I must voice some disagreements.”

With a nod of encouragement, Han Su-Yeong signaled him to proceed. The student puffed up with an air of satisfaction. “Was it truly the author’s intent to elicit such a reaction? Is it intellectually honest to project these grandiose theories onto a text riddled with subpar grammar and incoherent structure? Frankly, I find it hard to believe that was the author's target. If you look at the sheer excess of onomatopoeia and mimetic terminology, it....”

Han Su-Yeong cast a quick look at the book she utilized as a teaching aid. There was no denying it; the work was indeed overflowing with errors. The student basked in his own perceived victory, clearly feeling he had struck a fatal blow to her credibility.

She took a moment to contemplate. She could have methodically dismantled his argument point by point. Yet, she opted for a different approach entirely.

“You are correct,” she began. “Only the author can truly know the objective truth.”

“But if you concede that point, isn't that a rather irresponsible stance....”

“What would your reaction be if you were suddenly subject to the snap judgments of others?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Someone might notice that your face isn't perfectly clean, perhaps because you rushed to make it to class on time, or they might fixate on how your toes are poking through your worn-out slippers. They would immediately conclude: ‘Ah, that person has such sloppy grooming, they must be inherently lazy.’ And because they deem you lazy, they would assume you lack intelligence, deciding there is absolutely no reason to value your opinion.”

“W-what are you even trying to....”

“Or perhaps, they might conclude that you studied the lecture material relentlessly throughout the night, evidenced by the fervor with which you challenge your professor. Certainly, your external appearance is unpolished, but they might perceive that as indifference to trivialities. Yes, they could interpret it exactly that way.”

Han Su-Yeong stared straight into the student’s faltering gaze and pressed on.

“Much like you asserted earlier, the author of this novel likely never intended for these theories to be applied. Yet, the meaning you extract from the narrative rests solely with you. Should you view it only as worthless, then to you, it remains mere trash. However, if it can provide even the faintest glimmer of deeper insight, then that act alone elevates the work. Ultimately, you are the architect of your own experience. My hope is that you choose to ‘appreciate’ your time more deeply. If not, navigating my lectures will surely prove a dreadfully tiresome burden.”

The student fell silent, his eyes fixed on Han Su-Yeong. Whether he had truly grasped her meaning remained a mystery, though she concluded that it mattered little if he hadn’t.

After a moment of restless shifting, the student asked an unexpected question. “....By the way, Professor? Are you ever going to author a new novel?”

“Mm?”

“You once stated, didn’t you? You are an author because you write. If you cease to write, you are no longer an author.”

His tone carried a subtle implication—that there was little value in listening to someone who had abandoned the craft. Han Su-Yeong remained silent for a heartbeat, her dull, hazy gaze seemingly focused on something far beyond the room.

Then, with an expression of indifference, she muttered, “Right. I am no longer an author.”

“Excuse me?”

“You see, I lack the reader who would pick up my work.”

Before she could elaborate further, the classroom bell rang out. Han Su-Yeong offered a faint, wry smile and gave a nonchalant shrug. “Well then. The text required for our next session is....”

She lingered at the podium as the students departed. Her gaze fell upon a specific file document displayed on the open screen of her laptop. It was a story she had started recently as an experimental exercise. She clicked on it, staring quietly at the prose she had managed to forge.

⸢It was then she sensed a presence from behind her.⸥

“That was an intriguing lecture. Though it would have been lovely if that person had been here to attend.”

Han Su-Yeong snapped the screen shut and turned to find a very familiar face. The ‘intruder’ was adjusting the scattered lecture notes with elegant, graceful fingers.

“Oh, this curriculum looks delightful as well. Modern fantasy through the lens of Pierre Bourdieu, a structural analysis of romance tropes via Butler....”

“Did you drop by just to critique a has-been author?”

Yu Sang-Ah tilted her head, lighting up with a radiant smile—one that had seemingly remained unchanged over the last two years. She studied Han Su-Yeong intently, then asked, “Why are you sporting glasses suddenly? Has your vision declined?”

“Mind your own business.”

“Aha, I think I catch your drift. You looked a bit too youthful, and your students were disregarding you, weren't they?”

Han Su-Yeong scowled, ripping the black-rimmed spectacles from her face in frustration, only for Yu Sang-Ah to follow up with a playful tease.

“Shall we head out? Drinks are on me.”

*

The pair walked through the streets, one sipping an iced Americano while the other enjoyed a peach smoothie. They kept enough space between them to maintain an awkward distance, both focused entirely on the path ahead.

“How is the government life?” Han Su-Yeong asked casually. “Is it interesting?”

“I don't do it because it’s ‘fun,’ you know that.”

“Who did you say was coming today?”

“Hyeon-Seong-ssi is currently stationed in the States, so he might be unavailable, but Hui-Won-ssi is expected to arrive. And naturally, Seol-Hwa-ssi will be there as well....”

“And the kids?”

“They are en route. They’ve never skipped a meeting.”

Soon enough, the familiar sights of Gwanghwamun greeted them. After navigating a side alley for a few minutes, they arrived at their destination: a diner named <<Mark & Selena>>. Han Su-Yeong pushed the door open without hesitation.

“Welcome to... Wow, look who’s here!”

Selena Kim greeted them in fluent Korean, while Mark, deftly spinning pizza dough in the open kitchen, let out a cheerful whistle. “Give us a moment,” she added, guiding them to a booth. “Your orders will be right out.”

“What about the ones who arrived before us?”

Selena pointed toward the corner of the bar, leaving the answer to speak for itself.

Three familiar figures sat huddled together. Doing her best to contain her impatience, Han Su-Yeong crept up behind them, raising her hands to deliver a swift, consecutive smack to the back of each of their heads.

“Ouuuch?! Which idiot...?!”

“Well, look at our dear little ones. You’ve grown quite a bit, haven’t you?”

“Ah, Su-Yeong eonni! Sang-Ah eonni!”

As it had been nearly a year since their last reunion, they spent the first few moments exchanging observations on how much everyone had changed. Fortunately, their food arrived shortly after.

“What exactly did you order? What is this dish called?”

“The Desolate Cabin’s Demonic Intestines Stir-fry.”

Mark brought the plate over with a grin. Han Su-Yeong looked at the item—which resembled a Korean squid sausage—with deep suspicion before taking a tentative bite.

“What the hell? This is delicious.”

True to its odd name, the meal was magnificent. The rest of the companions’ tension melted away as they began to enjoy the meal. It had been an age since they were allowed to simply sit back and partake in a leisure dinner. Even after two years had passed since crossing the world-line and returning, the reality of it all still felt like a grand delusion to Han Su-Yeong.

– Oh, ohhh. Wuh-woo wuh-woo, wuh....!

Above the bar, a television screen displayed live concert footage. A popular idol group was midway through a set. One member was a monkey, another a dragon, and the final one an Archangel. The Great Sage, gripping the microphone, belted out a roar filled with passionate vibrato, followed immediately by the stage lighting shifting to focus on the arrival of Uriel.

“They are becoming quite the sensation,” Yu Sang-Ah remarked, elegantly chewing her food.

“I actually joined their fan club yesterday. The Uriel Force is genuinely legendary!”

As Yi Ji-Hye chimed in, Yi Gil-Yeong quickly interjected.

“I just can’t watch their shows anymore after seeing Dionysus’s performance. Especially that guy over there....”

“You mean the Abyssal Black Flame Dragon? Why? Don’t you think he’s cute?” Shin Yu-Seung asked, prompting Yi Gil-Yeong to narrow his eyes while picking at his fork.

“That’s considered cute to you??”

The screen now shifted to the Constellations’ latest track. The Abyssal Black Flame Dragon, wearing an eyepatch, performed a breakdance routine before diving into a rapid-fire, fiery rap monologue.

– This is the oldest Fable! Myth sung by the scenario! One man’s evolution, fading with time!

“....What on earth is he even rapping about?”

Just as the Black Flame Dragon’s verses reached a crescendo, the diner door opened to admit two more guests. Their faces were flushed, suggesting they’d already indulged in a few drinks elsewhere. It was Jang Ha-Yeong and Jeong Hui-Won.

“What’s this? Everyone’s already here?”

Jang Ha-Yeong rushed over, immediately wrapping Han Su-Yeong in a headlock.

“How have you been?”

Jeong Hui-Won offered a casual high-five to Yu Sang-Ah before her eyes drifted to the screen, a grimace forming. “Ugh, that rapping is truly grating on my nerves.”

“It’s simply wonderful to see you all again after so long.”

“Is this everyone for tonight?”

“Looks like it.”

Jeong Hui-Won began recounting stories of her new home. She described the inconveniences of living away from the subway lines, but noted the serenity of being near a park. She no longer lived in Gwanghwamun, nor near the third subway line.

“So,” Han Su-Yeong asked. “Are you two still together?”

The question drew immediate attention from the entire table. Jeong Hui-Won smiled faintly, swirling her glass of alcohol. “No. Not anymore.”

“How come?”

“Being together just reminds us of too many things.”

“....What things exactly?”

With wide, curious eyes, Yi Ji-Hye pressed for details, but Jeong Hui-Won wasn't in the mood to elaborate. She simply stirred her drink in silence, and eventually, Yi Ji-Hye dropped the subject.

The television screen started playing the intro to the next track.

– The Nameless Salvation (feat. Bald General of Justice) – JUS

Han Su-Yeong listened to the melody drifting from the speakers and added quietly, “I see. I suppose you’re right.”

The conversation ceased completely. A heavy silence settled over them like a thick, inescapable fog.

This was the precise reason they rarely met.

– This was the story no one remembered. However, this story definitely did exist.

Had two years been sufficient for that particular ‘era’ to solidify into a mere story?

Han Su-Yeong desperately wanted to know.

“Still no word from Biyu?”

“I reached out to Miss Anna, but there hasn't been a single update.”

Before the companions departed, Biyu had ventured to the [Dark Stratum] for training. As a result, they had been left in the dark about her whereabouts for two years.

“And what of Gong Pil-Du?”

“Likely drinking alone in Chungmuro again. I suspect the trauma of being separated from his family was too much.”

“That man... I explicitly told him to remain in the 1865th turn, so why did he insist on returning with us....”

“What about Myeong-Oh ahjussi? He lives in the Complex, so you must have the inside scoop on him, right, Han Su-Yeong?”

“That guy? He’s exactly as he always was.”

“What about the sooty bastard? I heard he tried to re-enter the pro gaming scene but gave up recently.”

No one dared an answer.

Jang Ha-Yeong suddenly hoisted her cocktail high. “Eiii, I don’t care anymore! Let’s just get drunk!”

“Wait, you look already pretty wasted.”

“Don’t stop me! I’m going all out tonight!”

“Me too. Pass me a shot as well.”

“Yu-Seung-ah, you’re still a minor.”

“If you count my age from before the regression, I’m an adult now!”

While Shin Yu-Seung pouted and harassed the others, Yi Ji-Hye poured a stiff shot of soju and downed it in one go, opting for no side snacks.

“Su-Yeong eonni, can you write my report for me? Please?” she asked with desperate eyes.

“If you ask me that again, I will kill you.”

Two years. Approximately 730 days.

Their current interaction was only possible because they had survived these 730 days with such persistence. They had attended classes, worked jobs, relocated—constantly moving, one step at a time, to distance themselves from that day.

Yet, someone had intentionally gravitated toward that memory, simply to endure it.

⸢Kim Dok-Ja survived through a story called ‘Ways of Survival’. In that case, which story allowed us to survive?⸥

Jeong Hui-Won watched Han Su-Yeong scribbling away on a notepad. “What are you so busy writing over there?”

“Just an old habit.”

“Are you still writing these days?”

Han Su-Yeong’s pen halted. Yu Sang-Ah replied for her.

“I certainly thought so, judging by what I saw earlier.”

“Really? Is it a novel?” Yi Ji-Hye asked, taking a mouthful of snacks.

“....Not really. Just playing with words to get back into the rhythm.”

“But are you planning to publish it?”

As Han Su-Yeong debated her response, a rustling noise came from her side.

“Maybe it’s in here?”

Yi Gil-Yeong, who had slipped away to use the bathroom, had returned and was now giggling at Han Su-Yeong’s laptop screen. Having played games on her device repeatedly, he’d long since memorized her password. Shin Yu-Seung shot him a glare, telling him to stop being so rude.

“Yi Gil-Yeong.”

“Argh, what now?”

His face was flushed from his illicit sips of alcohol. Shin Yu-Seung watched, nervous, expecting Han Su-Yeong to erupt in anger and smack the back of his head. Instead, she merely sipped her cocktail, seemingly indifferent to whether he read it or not.

Taking this as consent, Yi Gil-Yeong opened the file. A moment later, Han Su-Yeong put down her drink.

“Hey, kid.”

“...”

“Are you sure you have the guts to read that?”

Yi Gil-Yeong’s face drained of color, yet he couldn't tear his eyes away. He stared at the screen as if being pulled into it, brow furrowed in evident distress, but he continued to scroll. He read for minutes until, finally, he looked up, tears brimming in his eyes.

“....How many chapters have you written, noona?”

“Not that many. Maybe less than the length of two books.”

“Can I... read a little more?”

“Sure.”

Sensing the strange shift in Yi Gil-Yeong’s demeanor, the rest of the group stood up.

“What is it? What could possibly produce a reaction like that?”

“I’m curious too, given it’s Su-Yeong-ssi’s new work....”

“I’ll pass. I’ll just wait for the book.”

Ignoring Yi Ji-Hye’s remark as she poured another drink, the rest gathered behind Yi Gil-Yeong.

Han Su-Yeong watched them silently.

One by one, their gazes became transfixed by the screen. It couldn't simply be because the plot was entertaining. No, it was that kind of story—it always had been.

“Han Su-Yeong, you....”

Listening to the tremble in Jeong Hui-Won’s voice, Han Su-Yeong recalled the final lines she had drafted.

⸢”Regression changes nothing. It took me a very long time to