ADRIAN HALE'S POV
The novel I wrote as an escape has now truly come to life.
I have never felt as relieved and free as I am now. Perhaps it's true—the freedom I desired wasn't just about leaving my father, but about leaving that broken world altogether!
In this world, I will enjoy my life as I should at my age. I am also trying to tone down my cynical nature and learn to trust the people here, because this is the world I created. I have realized something: the people in this world are also very complex—they are not mere novel characters but whole human beings. I must no longer think of them as characters from my story.
They live with their own purposes.
My days passed normally. I attended university, met Professor Nolan—who, it turns out, is close to this world's Adrian—and then returned home... And you know what? Alicia… was waiting for me at home! Yes, that's all, but I was incredibly happy because for the first time since my mother passed away, I felt genuinely cared for and loved.
But sometimes I wonder: Isn't the person Alicia is waiting for the Adrian of this world? Aren't her love and affection meant for that Adrian? I don't deserve this. All of this should belong to the real Adrian, and I am just a thief who stole his life and is now pretending to be him. I stole it… That's the thought that keeps swirling in my mind when I daydream.
However, as time passed, that question seemed to slowly be answered. I realized something: everything I have gained here is the embodiment of my ideal life—it feels like an empty space in my heart has been filled. This is a representation of my desires.
I wanted a caring, loving younger sister. I got her.
I also wanted an older brother,but because of my trauma from my previous stepsister, my novel seemed to understand. So, it made my older brother, Erickson Hale, rarely come home due to his busy schedule. Yet, behind that, I know he loves me dearly—I found many photos of us playing baseball together. Yes, baseball was our favorite childhood game.
And wow… I have a Golden Retriever dog named Debby. As I write this, she's here bothering me on the sofa. I'm also home alone because Alicia is doing extracurricular activities at school.
Unfortunately… there is no mother here, but I know why she's absent. Once again, it reflects me. Not because I didn't want one, but it felt too perfect to become a reality—so perfect that I might have continued to believe all of this was a powerful illusion. Because I saw with my own eyes when my mother was buried… that was the most devastating moment of my life. It took years to even begin to accept that reality.
In essence, the novel I created has, without my knowledge, given me a gift: it created a version of me living my ideal life.
Flip!
...
Days have passed since I wrote that entry in my journal.
I am now in my room, sitting in the chair in front of my glowing computer, which displays a map, while my desk is cluttered with scattered notebooks. For a full week, while waiting for my Mana Core to recover, I have gathered all my findings on the location of Lucas's city.
My heart pounds as I quickly double-check the data I've collected, hoping everything I found is wrong. I've rechecked several times, but the result remains the same…
There is no Scattern City.
There is no Blackbourne City.
There is no Elfier City.
Those are all cities I know because they are where Lucas and his surroundings are supposed to be. Yet, even in this Safe Zone—so vast you could fit several countries inside it—I still cannot find them.
Where am I, really?
"If none of those exist, does that mean I'm in a different Safe Zone than his? But which one?" My mind races. I remember something: That's right, someday—probably around chapter 300 to 350—Lucas and his team would embark on a raid and accidentally discover another Safe Zone with a thriving civilization. That would change his perspective on the world—that they are not alone inside the walls, that many humans survived out there.
'But is that my Safe Zone?' I touch my chin, thinking, 'Probably not. I also know the names of the cities in that Safe Zone because they're crucial to the plot. But in my Safe Zone, none of those names match…'
"Then where am I?" My palms begin to sweat coldly as I try to consider other terrifying possibilities. But there are none. To my knowledge, Lucas only ever finds one Safe Zone, and after that, they work together to search for other human civilizations…
Finally, all my bad premonitions begin to have a clear reason.
"Is it?!" After the two Safe Zones unite with their combined strength, they later discover another Safe Zone—but in a state of utter ruin, leaving nothing behind except the sturdy walls surrounding it.
"I'm in danger!"
"I'm going to die. No, everyone in this Safe Zone is going to die…" That's the most likely possibility. No, it's not just a possibility anymore—that's the answer. Am I in the Safe Zone I wrote to be completely destroyed, leaving no trace?
Suddenly, I feel incredibly small—not just because I'm going to die, but because I'm trying to imagine what kind of enemy could destroy a Safe Zone almost the size of a continent, filled with Rank S Hunters.
'I don't know…' Back then, I wrote that only to create a mystery that would leave a lasting impression on Lucas—that there exists a powerful being capable of wiping out an entire Safe Zone, making him realize he's still not strong enough. The problem is, I never decided who that enemy was. Yes, I'm a bad writer—I'm not a "planner," but a "discovery writer" who develops the story as I go. I never finalized the enemy because I hadn't come up with the idea yet, and this is the consequence.
I wrote my own death.
I wrote the death of every living, breathing, soul-bearing human with families in this Safe Zone—all for the sake of motivating one person.
"I wrote Alicia's death…"
Knock! Knock! Knock!
"Adrian, I'm heading to school. I've left bread downstairs, don't forget to take it." Alicia's soft voice from outside my door now feels like needles piercing my heart with guilt. I'm killing my own sister.
"Hey Debby, move aside, I need to go," she says to Debby outside. Then she knocks on the door once more. "Adrian, can you hear me?"
I snap out of my daze. "Y-YES! I hear you, I'll be heading out soon too."
"Oh, alright." Her footsteps slowly fade. "Don't forget to lock the door," her voice grows softer, and then I hear the front door close.
I remain frozen in my chair, eyes wide in disbelief. 'What is this? Why has it come to this? I gained everything I ever wanted, only for it to be taken away in the horrific way I wrote myself?'
'Damn it, is this mocking me?' What I feel now is an intense sense of being mocked by my own novel. It gave me everything, only to place me in the very spot destined to become ashes, as if saying, 'This is temporary. You don't deserve any of this. I'll take it all back.'
BAM!
I slam my desk with all my strength—not out of frustration, but to accept the challenge. Until now, I've lived passively, unable to change anything in my old world because the system itself was broken—a small person like me could never change anything, only adapt… But in this world, it's different. I've been given magic to fight with, time to prepare, and the threat is external and clear—not some corrupt system or indifferent parents.
"I will prove myself worthy of all this! You bastard! I'll fight back now!" I sit back down in my chair, then realize: Who am I talking to? I can't blame anyone like I used to. I can't even blame the novel because it's just my writing. The fault is mine… Countless innocent lives here will die because of me.
Realizing I've been stuck imagining worst-case scenarios, I immediately stand up, grab my bag, and prepare to leave for university while calming myself down. I open the door, and Debby in front of me immediately rubs against my legs before following me downstairs. I take the bread Alicia prepared, take a bite, and put on my shoes with both hands.
My jaw tightens. I then turn and crouch down to Debby, forcing a smile as I say, "I'm leaving." I close the door, leaving her at home.
My mind is still racing, but I feel calmer now, breathing in the fresh air and feeling the sunlight on my skin. Yet, as I look at the people around me, I can't help but mutter automatically, over and over, 'They're going to die.'
Sigh…
I take a deep breath to calm myself. Panicking now is useless. As I chew my bread, I think:
'Hmm… who could possibly destroy a Safe Zone?' If I follow my writer's instinct… the most likely culprit is the 'Celestial Being.' They are angels who transformed after receiving a divine blessing from the god they worship. At first, they used their power for good, but after millions of years of defeating demons and imprisoning them in the Underworld, they grew bored—an emotion angels shouldn't possess. But because of that power, they started to believe they could do anything, which gave rise to that trait. They no longer obey their god—instead, they act like new gods themselves. The strongest among them is their leader, Astralis. Aside from his innate Celestial physical strength, he gained a new power called 'Fate Written.' He can force reality to follow whatever he writes and determines.
'Damn, I made him too strong.' The only natural counter to him is Lucas… The entire universe is structured by mana, and even reality and Astralis can only use 'Fate Written' on objects that possess mana. The only being in this universe without mana is Lucas. He's an anomaly, but that doesn't guarantee his victory. Astralis can also fight physically, and the last time I wrote about Lucas, his power still wasn't enough to defeat him.
I finish my bread.
Anyway, I can't rely on Lucas or my knowledge of the plot. He's on a different path than I am, and I shouldn't worry about him. He will undoubtedly live exactly as I wrote, since I haven't interfered. Honestly, I really want to meet him, but in the plot, our only connection is when Lucas finds my corpse…
I shake my head. 'No, I'm going to change that.' My enemy right now is completely abstract. Even if I think it's the Celestial Being, I'm still not sure… They wouldn't do something like that. No matter what, they still call themselves Holy Beings, even though they manipulate the fate of the universe. They wouldn't descend and kill humans with their own hands.
'Then who?' I can only keep guessing endlessly.
I've arrived at my campus. On the way, I see a crowd of students gathered to watch an exhibition on a stage. I stand there for a moment, watching as each person takes turns showcasing their projects: handmade robots, paintings, and science experiments. This Safe Zone is different from the others—it has advanced technology thanks to abundant resources, and it's also incredibly vast.
I start to leave but stop abruptly when I see a man with curly black hair step onto the stage. He's wearing an unbuttoned white shirt over a green t-shirt and is carrying a large weapon with a hollow center containing a slowly rotating mana crystal. He grins as he climbs onto the stage.
"Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Rival Ostern," he introduces himself.
Some people begin to whisper, likely because of the device he's carrying.
"Alright, I'm sure you're all wondering what this device I'm carrying is," he says, struggling to lift the weapon to his chest due to its weight. "This is the Mana Buster. Yes, it's a weapon. First, let me explain why I created it: You all know that even though this Safe Zone has many Rank S Hunters, they still can't reclaim the outside world—not even in Shernity City, the only place not enclosed by walls… Our Rank S Hunters can't venture more than ten kilometers beyond."
He takes a breath. The audience falls silent, watching him intently because he seems genuinely convincing.
"There are two reasons. First, first-generation monsters are extremely powerful. And second… because humanity still relies on outdated methods—using their own mana and fighting physically. That's why I created the Mana Buster. Let me explain how it works: At the center of this weapon is a mana crystal, the kind Hunters typically obtain in dungeons. When I press the firing button, this crystal spins rapidly, absorbing mana from the air, generating immense energy that's compressed and released through the barrel."
"Wait," a student interrupts, and Rival nods. "What do you mean, 'mana in the air'?"
"Oh, I forgot to explain," he smiles. "You've probably always thought mana exists only within living beings, right? You're wrong. Recently, during my experiments, I realized mana isn't limited to living creatures. In fact, mana is everywhere—it's integrated into the very structure of the universe, much like atoms. This likely happened when the Great Calamity first appeared."
'He's right.' The murmuring among the students grows louder.
"Surprising, isn't it?" the curly-haired man continues, shrugging. "But I'm not lying. It exists, and I've applied it in this weapon. When this mana crystal spins, it doesn't just absorb mana—it causes mana particles to collide with each other, generating tremendous force. This is a small weapon, but its destructive power is immense. You'll see."
'I did create it that way, but I never imagined it could be weaponized like this?' My novel's world is truly evolving beyond my imagination.
The mana crystal spins rapidly, and he aims it at a square iron block he's set up.
BOOM!
The block is blown in half, leaving no residue—as if it simply vanished.
"See? Imagine if this weapon were mass-produced. Humanity could reclaim the outside world. Why stick to old methods when we have technology? Or is this just a formality so Guild Hunters can keep making money?"
'His opinion about Guild Hunters is correct, but that device sounds like a mana-based version of a nuclear bomb.'
"Alright, I'll set it to full power and aim at that large iron beam." He points it at the beam. The mana crystal spins rapidly again, emitting a blue aura and sparks of electricity.
Suddenly, the man struggles to control the device. "What's happening?"
The weapon fires a blue beam, slicing through the crystal and the wall behind it, nearly hitting someone. In a panic, he raises the weapon high toward the ceiling, the laser still active—cutting through everything in its path.
People start running. The weapon eventually shuts down, but the roof of the hall begins to burn like paper, and debris starts falling.