I looked at the grotesque creature in front of me.
I must be dreaming.
But why the hell am I dreaming of this ugly bastard instead of a beautiful girl?
Maybe I really died and this is my punishment in hell.
Yeah. That makes sense.
This must be my hell, right?
An eternity stuck with this grotesque piece of shit.
"You know, it's rude to talk about someone's appearance like that." The creature's voice was just as disgusting as its face.
"So what, you motherfucker," I said, glaring at it. "Whatcha gonna do, huh?"
"You're just an illusion anyway. A dream. Maybe my personal hell."
"You're not even real."
My confidence was at its peak.
Then it laughed.
"Haha. You're as disgusting as the book you wrote, you deep-shit," the creature said, voice still oozing that same revulsion.
It didn't move much—just lifted a finger.
And suddenly, a shiver crawled up my spine.
Before I could react, countless gigantic swords materialized above me and came crashing down from all directions.
Pain exploded through me.
I couldn't even scream.
My throat felt like I'd swallowed molten lava.
Needles stabbed into every inch of my body. Microscopic, endless.
I couldn't stay conscious.
Darkness took me.
__
"Huff... Huff..."
I gasped—awake? No. I never fell.
I was still standing, back where I started. Like nothing happened. But everything had.
I looked down, checked my body.
Nothing.
No wounds. No blood. Not even a scratch.
But that pain—
It was real.
Too real.
I never wanted to feel it again.
I glanced at the creature.
This time, I kept my mouth shut.
"It seems you've calmed down, huh?" it said, now in a serene voice.
"Wh-where am I?" I asked, voice trembling despite my effort to sound normal. "Who… are y-you?"
There was no doubt anymore.
This wasn't a dream.
"Well, you know me very well, don't you?" it chuckled.
What?
Know it?
I would've remembered meeting something this hideous.
"You still seem confused." Its smirk widened. "You know me as... I'mthesupremelurkeri517."
My heart skipped.
That name—I knew that name.
It was the username of a reader.
The one I'd just cursed out a few hours ago…
The one who'd sent me a death threat.
"But… but how is that possible?" I stammered.
It didn't make sense.
Who the hell expects their online reader to be an eldritch abomination?
Yet here I was.
Standing face to face with one of my readers… who was anything but human.
"Why wouldn't it be possible?" it said. "We get bored too, you know."
"I like reading mortal books when I'm feeling a bit... empty."
"Then—was that your voice I heard before the meteor strike?"
I asked, already suspecting the answer.
"Yes. That was me," it replied cheerfully. "Wasn't it fun?"
It just laughed.
Like it hadn't just destroyed a planet for fun.
"As for why you're here…" Its tone shifted.
Menacing. Cold.
"What the fuck was with that ending, huh?" it growled.
I froze.
My body trembled.
I thought it was going to impale me again.
But thankfully, it didn't move.
"1,000 chapters," it continued, voice trembling with frustration. "One thousand f*cking chapters, I read—waiting for a satisfying ending."
"And then what did you do?"
"You killed the protagonist."
Its voice was eerily calm now.
"Why?"
I didn't know what to say.
In truth, I just wanted to move on with my career.
So I rushed the ending.
No planning. No closure.
Just… death.
Brutal, meaningless death.
I introduced a cosmic being out of nowhere.
A being so powerful it could obliterate millions of protagonists with a snap of its fingers.
And it did.
My MC had become a literal god—and still died like a side character.
"I–I…" I tried to explain.
But it raised its hand.
"Enough."
"I already know your answer."
Then it looked me dead in the eye.
"Let me ask you something instead."
I heard the creature's voice.
"What do you wish for?"
A simple question—with a hundred messy answers.
There were plenty of things I wanted.
To be rich.
To be handsome.
To have the most gorgeous, big-breasted woman in the world madly in love with me.
Yeah, I had desires. Who didn't?
But I wasn't dumb enough to say that out loud in front of a cosmic psycho.
So I gave the only answer that truly mattered.
"I want to survive."
The creature smiled.
It wasn't warm.
"So you want to survive, huh?"
"Hahahaha... hahahaha!"
"You want to survive."
"Nice... nice."
Its grin widened.
"I'll give you a chance to survive."
"A chance to become the strongest."
"A chance to become a literal god."
"Just like the protagonist of your novel."
"I'm going to send you into the world you created."
"Let's see how you struggle to survive in the world you messed up."
"It'll be fun."
"Too much fun."
My gut twisted.
He's sending me into that world?
The world of my novel?
No. That can't be possible.
A horrified expression crept onto my face.
The world I wrote was dangerous.
Insanely dangerous.
Sure, a person could become a god there—but not without suffering.
Not without surviving countless nightmares.
And I wrote those nightmares myself.
I knew exactly what was waiting for me.
Still...
Something else stirred in my chest.
An emotion I rarely felt.
Excitement.
Why… why am I excited?
I already knew the answer.
The chance to grow strong.
To rise.
To become something more.
To become a god.
The eldritch reader watched me silently.
It didn't care about my emotions.
It had already made its decision.
"So..." it said.
"Are you ready to be sent into the world of your own novel?"
Before I could respond, it swiped its hand.
"May you write an entertaining story, Mr. A.U.T.H.O.R."
That was the last thing I heard before everything went dark.