The Editor Is the Novel’s Extra

Place of Friendship (1)

Kleio was pulled into an endless sleep. It seemed that his mind had been overloaded by receiving too much information that he couldn’t understand all at once. While night and day overlapped, Jungjin saw his mother in a dream.

She advised him to dress warmly because it would rain, just like in his past world. She was well-suited to the weather, more accurate than any forecaster. People in the fishing village liked his mother, but kept a secret distance from her due to misunderstandings. Soon, those misunderstandings gave way to prejudices, and rumors began to circulate about his mother’s unique way of speaking and her resident registration.

Jungjin’s mother was a defector from North Korea. It was a rare case that a young woman drifted in from the west sea alone. Perhaps it was a famous event, as there were often people who recognized her name in the newspaper. When his father was serving in the military, Jungjin was told he had found her in a sandbar where the river and the sea met. In those days, there were no cell phones, and phone calls were uncommon. With only one line for an address, they had met again and became a couple. In an old letter that his mother kept, his father had written, ‘When I first saw Myeonghwa, I thought she was a princess.’

It was a story from the old days, and the two had been together for less than ten years. Their house had been torn apart by malice. After his father died in an accident in the canals while working, his mother struggled to raise her two sons. Eventually, his sickly younger brother died at a young age. When Jungjin got a job, he tried to take her to Seoul, but his mother never left the beach. Then that typhoon had hit.

Pitter-patter.

The sound of rain knocked on his consciousness, and Jungjin woke up in a cold sweat. It really was raining. Kleio was lying down, watching out the terrace window. The thoughts that had been forcibly stopped in front of the surreal situation overflowed and tangled up in his mind.

‘The author knew by reading about the world.’

If the world was written by the hand of God, then it could be read. Although there was no God who summoned the flood and offered a rainbow here, there were names and words that had no origin here that had somehow found their way to it, to give it authority. God, who knew the sins committed by humanity in the previous world, didn’t want the same destruction and confrontation. But, perhaps, humanity hasn’t responded to those good intentions. Human nature hasn’t changed, even if the laws of space and time had.

‘This system of rewriting is clearly collapsing.’

The evidence resided in the princes who remembered the past. Kleio looked down at the back of his hand, feeling that mark was heavier than any shackles. Behemoth, who normally hung around the bed all the time, had moved to a different corner of the house when Kleio wouldn’t get up. He felt rather fortunate. The cat’s once comforting warmth was now a catalyst for self-destructive thoughts. He didn’t want to think that even that peaceful existence was part of the structure for tying Jungjin to this world.

When he closed his eyes, the past shouted randomly towards the present. Old voices spoke of misfortune and curses. Jungjin didn’t believe in superstitions, but he knew quite a few scholars with doctorate degrees who struggled with it. A professor who majored in Korean history had been rather concerned with stuff like that, asking for Jungjin’s date of birth at a drinking party. The professor had often mumbled to himself after that, mentioning how a thousand people couldn’t come out like that, while Jungjin poured him alcohol and kept up a social smile. That professor had never contacted the company again after that.

In the military, there had been a comrade from the training camp that had been assigned to the same ship. It had been unlikely, so he thought it was nice, but after a while, an accident had occurred on the deck. Jungjin lived, but his comrade passed away. His parents cried, saying their son had died at the place that wanted to kill him.

If coincidence continued for long enough, it became a rule. Bad luck was an appropriate phrase to summarize Kim Jungjin’s life. However, the life of Kleio Asel, in every way, contrasted with that one. When his sincere spirit was added to the body of a young boy who died while living quietly and depressed, both lives had changed… All under the protection of God, who wanted to complete this world.

The rain was so strong that the room was dark like midnight even though it was daytime. Once his eyes were accustomed to the darkness, he noticed the envelope Dione had brought him. Kleio opened the seal with a clumsy hand, noting that Gideon Asel’s signed letter wasn’t as short as before. It held the praise and concern of a middle-aged businessman who wasn’t accustomed to writing down his heart, but had been struggling to grow. He hadn’t expected this outcome.

The text was an organic being. In some cases, revising one passage affected the entire work. Gideon acted as a loving father, and Vlad suspected that the one who occupied this body wasn’t his brother. The author’s corrections made in transferring him to this world had some unexpected outcomes.

Had the previous revisions been like this? If history had been rewritten to stop colonization, slaughter, and famine, unexpected disasters and confrontations would have appeared elsewhere. He felt like he knew why this world had to be rewritten eight times. And this was the last opportunity given to the history of this world. Even a narrative couldn’t be rewritten without limitation.

Kleio felt pressure weigh down on his whole mind as he absent-mindedly stroked his ring. Then, he began to tug at it. It wouldn’t move a centimeter; it’s solid form reminding Kleio of his duty. There was no way to know in advance how the modifications so far would affect the future of the world. It was too vague.

“Hey, were you up?”

Arthur walked in silently with a shrewd smile, like a hunter in the night. His attitude was sad and soft as he entered the room gently, approaching the bed slowly to pull a chair out to sit in. He looked cautiously at the messy Kleio before hesitantly pouring him a glass of water. Kleio looked down at the glass for a long time, but Arthur didn’t rush him. Only after the winds had shaken the window sill several times did Kleio accept the slightly warm glass.

It would be impossible to describe the feeling that arrived as the water went down his thirsty throat. Maybe he had been breaking away from the self-evident conclusion, dismissing such a vivid world and passionate existence as just fictional creations. All to escape the heavy responsibility of overturning real human life and death, their dreams and prospects, all with a few edits. Kleio’s question came impulsively.

“…Arthur, what would you do if your life was the result of an irreversible fate and you were destined to be swept away by a plan you didn’t design?”

Arthur scratched at his chin a little, replying as he took the shaking glass out of his classmate’s hand.

“Well. It seems like my life has always been that way. In that case, you do what you can do first. Could it be different?”

This was a person who overcame death to find companions and achieve power. There was a strange persuasiveness to the protagonist’s words, who was favored by God but didn’t receive personal happiness.

“But then, somedays, things I couldn’t do before, become things I can do.”

Arthur’s flawless smile in the dark room was as bright as the light created by ether.

“You know, Lei, I’m a kid cursed as a prince of nothing but trouble, but I’m still better off than being alone. You can do more by borrowing a cat or a friend. Really!”

The words of the third prince were crude, unlike those of his elder brothers, but that was why the signs of friendship in them were so clear. Though he lived desperately, he didn’t hesitate to reach out to others. Kleio’s eyes moved to his palm. Even though he had lived a life that didn’t allow him to live radiantly, Arthur behaved like one who had never suffered. He wielded sweetness with a comforting nature and wanted his friend to leave this dark room. He was even willing to stay by his side for a long time to do it.

How absurd it is to deceive a person and receive comfort from them at the same time. Jungjin didn’t feel guilty anymore. This child was a real person, just like this world was real. The hierarchy of the unwritten world and the written one wasn’t as absolute as he thought. Even in the world where Kim Jungjin was born, wasn’t it still created by the words of God to the population who didn’t believe in evolution or the Big Bang?

.

.

.

Arthur twisted his body back and forth for no reason as he made loud noises. Kleio, who had posed an unexpected question, made him feel heavy as there wasn’t much reaction even when he heard his answer.

“After your meeting, the Archbishop is back to sleeping again. I thought you might be curious.”

Kleio remained silent, looking like a straw puppet on the verge of collapse more than a man.

“It’s like you have a serious illness. Look at your face.”

When Arthur shouted loudly, there was a slight reaction. It was clear that he was better than yesterday when he hadn’t reacted at all. Arthur let the words flow uncontrollably out of him as he observed Kleio.

“Hey, what kind of thing do you think they’re talking about?”

“Uh…”

Kleio slowly blinked, replying quietly. Arthur’s keen ears didn’t miss it, however.

“Well, you should hurry up before rumors spread that you can’t go to school because you fell in love with the Archbishop!”

“…Already?”

Kleio’s reaction was dull, as if he were still asleep. His eyes were filled with anxiety and fear, and Arthur felt frustrated at the appearance of his friend whose defenses had collapsed.

‘What the hell happened with the Archbishop to cause this? No, I wonder if it was the right thing to let them meet.’

“Tomorrow is the start of school, so we have to move quickly. It’s too late to prepare now.”

“…What is the date today?”

“It’s March 31st!”

Kleio’s expression stiffened, and Arthur giggled in response. Behemoth, who heard Arthur’s laughter as he waited at the door, barged in.

“Meeeooooow! (This noisy guy! I wanted him to soothe this cat’s meals. Did he make fun of you?)”

“Hey, don’t scratch me!”

“Meow! Meooow! (You dare?!)”

After seeing the cat that had lived for more than a century tangle up with the prince, Kleio was forced to stand up and get up. The long winter vacation was ending.