[Translator - Jjescus]
[Proofreader - Gun]
Chapter 199
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The Wicked One II
I'll tell you upfront: Oh Dokseo may possess an extraordinary level of foolishness, but she wasn’t a complete idiot. Despite appearances, she was capable enough to take care of herself, even if thrown into a void. In other words, she wasn’t so brain-damaged that she’d leave the door to her room ‘slightly’ open, allowing anyone to witness her misdeeds while she was writing. Yet, the door was open, and I ended up witnessing the cri scene.
In other words?
“D-Dokseo! What on earth are you doing right now…?”
There was another culprit behind the open door. Sim Aryeon, not only displaying her idiocy but also reigning supre as the undefeated winner of the “SG Net Idiot of the Year” award for six consecutive years. In this turn, the 888th, she wasn't pretending to be the Saintess of the North, just living as Dokseo's roommate.
Sim Aryeon grabbed Dokseo’s shoulder urgently.
“Y-You’re not using a generative AI again, are you…? You promised you wouldn’t use it anymore…!”
“Oh, stop overreacting, unni!”
Dokseo shook off Aryeon’s hand from her shoulder. Her eyes glead with a dangerous and ominous fire.
“I’m just trying it one more ti, just one more ti!”
“N-No…! You said it was the last ti just a while ago! But now, as the deadline approaches, you’ve got AI-clicking syndro again…!”
“Hey! Watch it! Calling it AI-clicking syndro is too much!”
Dokseo shouted in a way reminiscent of a nobleman scolding a commoner.
“This is simply a new thod of writing in this era! I, the great Literature Girl, am rely keeping up with the trends to avoid being left behind by the tis, utilizing cutting-edge technology as an auxiliary tool for my writing!”
“I-It’s really not okay…! Relying too much on such an unorthodox, no, demonic thod… It’ll make you lose even the tiny amount of talent you originally had…!”
“Stop it! Let go!”
“Kyaa!”
Thud. Aryeon, pushed away by Dokseo’s noblewoman-like rejection, fell on her butt like a tragic heroine.
“A text created by such AI-clicking is no longer your writing, Dokseo…!”
“How dare you say such nonsense! I can’t believe this! A novel that I, this Literature Girl, personally typed the prompt for, is obviously my own writing!”
“D-Do you really believe that…?”
“Of course! A painter moves the brush, takes existing colors to paint, and a photographer presses the shutter with a ready-made cara, right? It’s all the sa artistic act, artistic act! How can you hold such a narrow-minded view and resist the new trends of this era? That’s why drawing just one illustration takes you 10 to 20 hours, unni!”
“That’s ridiculous… Dokseo, a cara and generative AI are completely different…”
“How are they different?”
“J-Just read out this trashy sentence aloud.”
Sim Aryeon picked up the laptop.
And then, she used one of the 101 ways to kill a writer—the most vicious and evil thod—by holding an impromptu reading session.
“Look at this. ‘Doctor Jang sighed strangely for the 300th ti and pulled out the black suit he bought at Busan Station’… ‘The 300th strange story of Doctor Jang protagonist at Busan Station was about to begin’… Do you really think this is your writing, Dokseo? Were you always this terrible…?”
“Ugh!”
Dokseo spat blood. Not physical blood, but blood from her soul.
Sim Aryeon, like an orca that looked cute but was actually a predator at the top of the food chain, had a shark’s nose for slling the blood others shed.
“Dokseo’s novels were originally so wordy that it was hard to tell if they were literature or cardio machines… But at least they were better than this trash! This is why you’re always getting beaten by in the SG Net Story Rankings… Like a loser…”
“Hey!”
Dokseo snapped.
“Unni, your novel’s ranking is high because of the illustrations! It’s because you keep plastering illustrations all over the author’s notes!”
“Ah… So do you think readers keep following my boring writing just because of the illustrations? That’s such a la excuse… But you know what’s even lar? That AI-clicking junk you’re producing… It’s just pure, perfect garbage…”
“I-I’m not done revising it yet, okay?”
Whoosh! Dokseo snatched the laptop back from Aryeon.
And then, like an AI pianist flaunting her nimble fingers, she typed in another prompt.
>> Style it like Chuck Palahniuk, with a sprinkle of Stephen King’s wording and a dash of Lee Yeongdo
Soon, the screen spat out sentences.
――――――――――
I sighed for the 300th ti. This sigh mixed with the air at Busan Station, transforming into sothing strange and disappearing. It will likely lodge itself in a crack in the concrete of this city, growing into mold.
I pulled out the black suit. This suit, bought in the underground mall of Busan Station, never once taken to the cleaners over 300 lifetis, was now like a second skin to .
Now, let’s begin. The curtain rises on the 300th show. Another strange story unfolding in the belly of this gigantic monster, Busan Station. I am the protagonist, the audience, and sotis the victim of this endless cycle of drama.
A whisper echoes in my ear. It’s the voice of Busan Station. “Are you ready, Doctor Jang?” I smirked. Of course I’m ready. My heart is already racing, eager to see what kind of nightmare will unfold this ti.
――――――――――
Dokseo pointed at the screen.
“There! How’s that? Huh? Much better than the generic writing from before, right? I bet the readers won’t have anything to complain about!”
“…Dokseo…”
“This is the power of my prompt engineering! My uniqueness! The originality of AI art!”
“What kind of nonsense is this, Dokseo…”
Sim Aryeon put on a tearful expression and sniffled.
“This… This is exactly why generative AI is different from a cara… Don’t you get it? Generative AI uses learning data, and that data is made up of creative works that others have poured their sweat and blood into… How can that be your writing…?”
“It’s fine! Chuck Palahniuk and Stephen King are public figures! They’re public property!”
“Oh my…”
“And who owns the canning hotel where all the Korean authors stay? Doctor Jang, right? I’m writing for him! All the authors in Korea owe him! So… No one can criticize my righteous cause! If they’re unhappy, they should write a regressor’s autobiography themselves!”
Unbelievable.
“Hahaha! That’s right! I can look up to the sky without a shred of guilt! I, the Literature Girl, will prove future technologies that are bound to be persecuted! I am the prompt-artist!”
My heart and Sim Aryeon’s heartbeat resonated.
To think my heart would be forced into such a guilty rhythm, she was indeed no ordinary character.
“Dokseo… How, how did you end up like this… This heinous act… The Guild Leader won’t be able to forgive you…!”
And so, at this point, the genre takes a sharp drift.
From a cinematic RPG movie where Oh Dokseo ascends the throne of a corrupted AI, and Sim Aryeon, failing to stop her, blas herself—just like in a Blizzard-style RPG cinematic—it suddenly turns into a horror story.
Sim Aryeon, who had been looking down, suddenly snapped her head up and looked straight in the eyes.
“Isn’t that right, Guild Leader?”
“…”
Honestly, I wanted just to throw down my coffee and everything else and moonwalk out of there like Michael Jackson.
But there was sothing addictive about the scene before my eyes. It was inevitable.
Sim Aryeon’s voice and tone surely contained so narcotic ingredient that humanity had yet to discover. I hope my readers, too, take note of this bizarre fact.
“Huh? Why is there a… A-a guy here?”
Maybe a few days ago, Sim Aryeon had secretly left the door slightly open every ti Dokseo started writing (which she calls prompt art).
Why? Because she anticipated that I, Doctor Jang, would eventually show up.
In the end, Sim Aryeon’s strategy was a great success. Dokseo turned her creaky, rusty gaze towards .
“H-how long have you… been standing there?”
I subtly avoided her gaze.
“Hmm. Is that really the answer you need, Dokseo?”
“I need it. To be precise, there’s nothing else in this world I need more right now.”
Is it that serious?
If that’s the case…
“I’ve been here from the beginning.”
“The beginning? When exactly is the beginning? Is it like the very beginning? Or maybe a bit later? Huh? Specifically, what kind of beginning are we talking about?”
“I see. Specifically, hmm. From the mont you entered the prompt ‘The protagonist is an Doctor Jang and a regressor’...”
“Aaaaah!”
A scream burst out.
“Aaaah! Ugh! Aaaaah!”
A scream burst out.
“Uuuuuuaaah!”
A scream burst out.
[Translator - Jjescus]
[Proofreader - Gun]
And Oh Dokseo evolved from a bipedal creature into a multi-legged creature. For reference, the most famous creatures among the multi-legged ones are centipedes and millipedes. Both share the characteristic of crawling on the ground.
“Why!”
Oh Dokseo squird on the floor, showing symptoms of breathing difficulty.
“Why the hell! Were you just watching all this ti?”
A desperate scream echoed from the most secretive and secure depths of the Inunaki Tunnel.
There was a sound of air lightly escaping, like a balloon deflating, which I barely caught with my unusually sharp hearing. The source of the sound was Sim Aryeon’s mouth. She was shaking her shoulders while going “Pft- Pft- Pft-”.
Are these really the hopes of the Korean Peninsula, or even the world?
Well, of course, because these are the hopes, that’s why everything’s ssed up...
“Hmm. Dokseo. I really don’t know what to say to you.”
“Don’t say anything! Just don’t say anything at all…!”
“But it’s still clear in my mory. The look on your face when you said the famous line, ‘I’ll write your story.’ With my perfect mory, it feels as vivid as if I heard it just six seconds ago—”
“Uuuuuuaaaah! Waaah! Aaaaah!”
“And you also said, didn’t you? You asked, why do humans forget the things they said so easily? Why do they forget? You said that’s the real tragedy of life, and it just ca to mind—”
“Nooooooo!”
Thud!
Oh Dokseo rolled on the floor and hit the table leg. The laptop fell and landed on Oh Dokseo’s shoulder.
“This, this isn’t ! This is not… I… I didn’t want to do this… Ugh! It’s an anomaly! Yes, Mister! This laptop is actually a relic of The Admin of All-Play! The Admin of All-Play tricked ! At so point, The Admin of All-Play beca a program like ChatGPT and appeared! So—”
“Dokseo.”
Sim Aryeon hugged Dokseo.
And she gently patted Dokseo’s back with her fingertips. Tenderly. Kindly. Like a saint.
From Dokseo’s perspective, she couldn’t see it, but I could clearly observe Aryeon’s face. She was grinning mischievously.
“It’s okay. Dokseo… Of course, you did so really trashy things, and now the guild leader, with his perfect mory, will have a permanent, eternal blackmail material to hold over you for hundreds or thousands of years, and your black history will never be erased, not even if the world ends, but... a person can regret their trashy actions. Yes. Even if the irreversible stain on your life never fades...”
“I’ll kill you!”
Today is the day Sim Aryeon levels up like crazy.
I forcibly pulled away the 'considerate bastard' and patted Dokseo on the shoulder.
“Dokseo. It’s okay. I think I might have unknowingly put too much pressure on you to write a novel.”
“Uncle…”
“It’s okay to take a break.”
I smiled warmly.
“Take as much ti off as you need until you can write again with a peaceful mind.”
“Really… can I do that?”
“Of course. I can always wait for you, Dokseo.”
“Mister…!”
That day,
A notice was posted on the SGNet Literature forum.
[Literature Girl] This is Oh Dokseo... I’m going to take a break to recharge... (5 minutes ago)
The reaction of SGNet readers was, well, not too bad.
Since Oh Dokseo's writing had been sowhat odd lately, there was considerable optimism that ‘After recharging, maybe the writing quality will return?’
And,
Ti passed.
[Literature Girl] This is Oh Dokseo... I’m going to take a break to recharge... (7 years ago)
Click.
I entered the comnts section of the notice.
Thousands of comnts flowed down the page.
-Anonymous: Where in the world is there a writer who says they're taking a break and actually rests for 7 years???
-[Baekhwa]12th Grade High Schooler: I’m here for my annual pilgrimage >_
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