episode_0011

If someone asked me what my hobby was, I’d say web novels—I read them that much.

It all started with webtoons.

I worked the night shift at a convenience store, and since the area was rural, there were barely any customers.

Stuck with nothing to do but watch YouTube, a friend recommended me a webtoon.

– “This’ll make time disappear.”

They said it was a popular webtoon these days, the kind that made hours vanish. They told me to trust them and give it a try.

“Is it really that good?”

So I read it, and it was way more entertaining than I expected. I got hooked instantly.

Before I knew it, I’d caught up to the latest chapter.

“If you wait, it’s free.”

Even though it was the latest chapter, that didn’t mean there wasn’t more story.

You just had to wait a week for the next update—unless you paid to read ahead.

“It’ll come out eventually if I wait, right?”

I was just killing time during my shift. No need to waste money.

“Tch.”

But I was curious about what happened next. A quick check showed renting the next chapter only cost 200 won.

“It’s just this one…”

So I caved and paid to read ahead.

But once I finished the early access chapters, I had to wait another week.

“Should’ve just waited.”

Now I was upset—even if I paid more, I couldn’t read further. But the latest chapter’s comments tempted me.

– “This is Chapter 78 of the original novel! Chapter 83 is legendary!”

“…Ugh, I hate reading.”

I wasn’t big on reading text.

But they said it was legendary.

One webtoon episode covered about 1-3 chapters of the novel.

Meaning, to see the next episode, I’d have to wait anywhere from 2 to 4 weeks.

So.

“I’ll just read up to that part.”

It’s legendary, right? I’ll just read that far and wait for the webtoon.

That’s what I thought.

And that decision was a mistake.

“You’ve worked hard, Yeeun.”

“Ah, yeah.”

When I snapped out of it, it was already morning.

After clocking out with the manager, I returned to my tiny apartment and let out an involuntary sigh.

“This is good…”

I’d planned to read just four chapters.

But before I knew it, I’d binge-read the entire thing.

And since the webtoon skipped some parts, I even reread Chapters 1-78—the ones already adapted.

Frustratingly… it was just as good.

No, even better than the webtoon.

“Huh, I’m better at reading than I thought.”

Once I got past that hurdle, I started reading novels as much as webtoons in my free time.

“This one’s fun too.”

And so, late at night, alone at the convenience store, I read webtoons and web novels.

Male-oriented fantasy, martial arts, alternate history—I didn’t discriminate by genre, except for a few niche ones. But since I started with romance novels, about half of the ten works I read were romance.

One novel, then another, and another…

“Ha.”

Eventually, I met that love-hate story.

The title? Like a Flower Blooming in Barren Land.

“Fck.”

It started as an academy story, lively and fun.

Then suddenly, the tone shifted into something bleak.

After graduation, it felt like the battle scenes outnumbered even male-oriented novels.

But I endured.

Because that damn author wrote so well.

And unlike typical romance novels that wrapped up quickly, this one kept going, becoming a super-long epic.

Every chapter pissed me off, but the writing was so addictive I couldn’t drop it.

“This goddamn author!”

But by Part 4, the Demon Realm Arc, I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Ha, haha. Seriously. What the hell? Plunder Marriage? Are they sane?”

Half-losing my mind over a novel, I let out a hollow laugh.

Over 100 chapters in, and the academy guys had barely managed one kiss with the heroine.

Meanwhile, some idiot demon king who showed up 30 chapters ago kidnapped her and did the deed.

Then openly declared her his wife.

“Fck!”

Maybe because it wasn’t explicitly R-rated.

Or maybe the author planned to backtrack later—”No, it just seemed that way! They didn’t actually do it!”

The actual scene wasn’t shown, but the morning-after dialogue made it very clear.

“I had a bad feeling when the demon king looked too damn handsome on the Part 4 cover.”

The author had been pushing Acid, the crown prince, but if she’d paired the heroine with any other male lead, I wouldn’t have been this mad.

But this? Hell no.

It wasn’t just screwing over fans who’d rooted for couples for 400 chapters.

Out of nowhere, the final boss of Part 4 was suddenly a new male lead candidate?

While the other male leads were left celibate for 400 chapters, this guy gets the heroine in one volume?

Fck this. I can’t take it.

5,700 characters? Not enough. To fully express my rage, I’d need double—11,400 wouldn’t cut it.

If I could dive into the novel, I would.

Burning with fury, I unleashed my wrath in the comments.

“Are these guys serious?”

Then I saw comments from readers who liked the demon king’s looks and were happy about what happened.

Did we even read the same novel?

After all the academy drama, some random hot final boss forces himself on the heroine, and they like that development?

I respect different tastes, but this? No.

I immediately started picking fights with every pro-demon king comment.

No regrets.

I had to vent this frustration.

Until my shift ended.

No—until I got home and fell asleep.

With the heart of a loyal vassal offering wise counsel, I left the author a long comment.

With the heart of a righteous minister purging traitors, I clashed with demon king fans.

Then I woke up the next day.

“What the fck is this?”

I’d become what I’d only heard of in legends—a side character in the romance novel I’d flamed.

—

It was the start of a typical extra’s story.

So I followed the typical route.

“Hi!”

Thanks to my devilish charm, I became childhood friends with the golden copybara—a girl who unknowingly seduced men left and right, including the empire’s crown prince.

“The world’s dangerous. You should learn some defensive magic, just in case.”

“Really?”

Even as the saintess, she couldn’t protect herself and got kidnapped by the demon king. I couldn’t let that happen again, so I worked hard to draw out Daisy’s magical talent from a young age.

“This and this are fun!”

“Huh? Mom said I shouldn’t read stuff like this!”

Since the male and female leads were painfully slow, I force-fed Daisy romance novels to help.

Those useless male leads wouldn’t make a move, so I figured it’d be faster to awaken Daisy’s desires.

“I got into the academy!”

“Me too.”

Thanks to her upgraded stats, she got in easily.

Now it begins.

Heart pounding, I started planning how to handle the bullsht ahead.

Then—

“The Sword Arts and Sword Saint lost?”

On the first day, rumors spread fast. Finally, the original story had begun.

Or so I thought.

“They say it was Adam Smith?”

“…What?”

Without thinking, I grabbed the gossipmonger.

“Who did you say?”

“Adam Smith?”

They looked startled, but I was more shocked.

Since when did the invisible hand show up and beat the Sword Saint?

The one who should’ve beaten the Sword Saint was Leon’s prince, Ellen—a sub male lead like the Sword Saint!

The strongest swordsman in the world, someone who could slice up even the demon king in a one-on-one fight.

The Sword Saint was supposed to despair before that wall, only for Daisy to comfort him—a key academy arc moment.

Early on, Prince Ellen was supposed to feel like a minor antagonist, while the crown prince Acid and Sword Saint Aslan were pushed as male lead candidates.

But now, that was ruined from the start.

“What’s going on?”

I wondered if a variable had made Prince Ellen skip the academy, but no—he was the one who defeated Adam Smith in the end.

“What the hell?”

I grew suspicious.

But I wasn’t sure yet.

So I watched Daisy’s surroundings, checking if events still followed the original.

“How about the flower-arranging club?”

She smiled and invited the lonely crown prince to join.

“What are you doing there?”

She coaxed the brooding Sword Saint out of his corner, drowning in defeat.

“Do you know about flowers too?”

While shopping for club supplies, she even fished for another guy.

One by one, the male leads fell. The original’s still intact.

“This should work.”

“Ah, I see.”

Or so I thought—until Prince Ellen became a problem.

What the fck?

Why’s only his storyline messed up?

Who was Prince Ellen?

The Guardian of the Demon Realm, a northern duke-type character like Gerald of House Rayner.

Cold, strong, but warm only to his woman.

Of course, that was later.

Early on, he was supposed to be emotionally closed off, hovering around the heroine while hiding his feelings.

Gerald was doing exactly that.

But Prince Ellen? Different.

He’d dropped the northern duke’s icy demeanor.

Now he was smiling beside Daisy, learning flower arrangement.

“…”

That’s not your character.

In the academy arc, he was supposed to hover awkwardly, radiating sub male lead energy, doing nothing until graduation.

Gerald and Ellen weren’t supposed to go full cheetah mode until Part 3—after the academy.

Gerald was still following the original, but Ellen was already sprinting ahead.

“That guy’s the culprit.”

Finding the culprit was easy.

A new character, never in the original, stood by the changed Prince Ellen.

Maybe he was an unmentioned extra, but not after defeating the Sword Saint.

There was just one problem.

“What if it’s regression?”

Regression—a staple in web novels.

If it was possession like me, fine. But regression could mean unnecessary meddling.

“Given how the story went to sht, regression makes sense.”

Some lunatics might’ve rooted for the demon king, but any sane reader would admit the plot was trashed.

Dragging out the heroine’s first time, only for a new character to kidnap and force her?

To fix that mess, regression was necessary.

But it made no sense for a new character to do it instead of the male leads.

“And the demon king’s sudden appearance made sense?”

Given the author’s lack of sanity, the world ending in Part 5 and a new male lead regressing wouldn’t be surprising.

So I couldn’t rule out regression.

“Ugh, whatever.”

But with future events in mind, I had to confirm if he was an ally.

So, unlike the original, I asked the now-cheerful Prince Ellen to deliver a letter and lured Adam Smith to the rooftop after club activities.

But what should I say?

Regression? Possession? Reincarnation?

No. I had to be indirect.

“D-Do you know Like a Flower Blooming in Barren Land?”

Fck.

The abrupt question left me flustered.

I’d meant to hint with the novel’s title.

Why did “Do you know” slip out?

“D-Do you know kimchi?”

Fck.

Maybe he recognized the original title, or maybe I just looked like a lunatic spouting nonsense.

Seeing his confusion, I tried a code only someone from this world would know—

But “Do you know” escaped again.

This time, though, he reacted.

“Do you know Ko—ah, dammit. You’re from South Korea, right?”

He canceled his own “Do you know” and just blurted it out.

“…Yeah?”

And just like that, I’d met a fellow transmigrator.