The Hero’s Brother Is Bound To Be Depressed - Chapter 284



285 – The essence of the writer

There was no trace of despair anywhere on Jin Xian’s face, who said that the reason for his existence was simply as a speaker who conveyed information. Rather, I was puzzled by the sight of him smiling happily and asked.

“I’m satisfied with that… ? That your whole life was meant to give me information… “Can you accept it so easily?”

If I were in Jin Xian’s position, I would definitely be in denial, despair, and anger. But Jin Xian actually laughed out loud at my question. I could tell from that bright smile that it wasn’t an act or a trick.

Jin Xian put his hand on my heart with a truly happy face.

“It is human nature to find the reason for one’s existence. Among them, only a few people find the correct answer. Most things are found out only after death. Can I accept the meaning of my existence? of course! Did a person who dies after being hit by a drunk driving car while walking down the street without any cause or a person who dies suddenly from a lightning strike exist for the sake of a meaningless ending? “Are the lives of extras who do not appear in the novel just a dummy that exists to fill the world?”

By tapping my chest with his hand, Jin Xian clearly conveys what he believes.

“Even if your only reason for being is to be an extra who fills the background, life goes on. Just as you and the members of the Messiah Club who did not appear in the novel are intertwined to create a new story, you probably know best that the reason for existence alone does not explain all life, right?”

I know. It was a problem I had thought about countless times. If I didn’t possess Ross, would their existence be meaningless? As one of the many academy students who appears in the novel, does he simply exist and then disappear?

After much thought, I came to a conclusion. no. People have value just by being alive. Even if I wasn’t there, the Messiah members would have lived their own lives. Most people cannot leave their names to future generations. Just because no one now remembers the names of people who walked the streets of Seoul 100 years ago doesn’t mean their existence is meaningless.

Don’t we all learn from a young age that we can’t be the main character?

“I lost everything, was kicked out of the world, and spent my whole life playing as an observer on the outskirts of outer space… !!! “You have no idea how happy I am that a critical role that I had not noticed until now existed from the beginning.”

I inadvertently made eye contact. There was something I could only understand after making eye contact with Jin Xian. Ross of Longing was wandering countless times in search of the reason for his existence. A very ancient longing, given to us from birth, has now been resolved. The pure joy of finding the right answer is all that remains for Jin Xian.

“Just as we created the foundation of the world with just one line of text, ‘There was a very beautiful continent,’ how could we not be satisfied with becoming speakers who can save the world with just one line of information?”

Jin Xian, who had spread his arms and exaggeratedly shouted like an actor in a play, erased his smile and placed his hand on my shoulder.

“But I have no intention of being remembered as a longing Ross, a mere narrator. So from now on, I will do my best to intervene in my role. “Because this must be manifest destiny.”

The twitching of Jin Xian’s eyebrows felt somehow ominous. The moment she tried to pull her body back, I saw one corner of Jin Xian’s mouth twitch.

“Now is the time to break free from the constraints of being a saint and find the essence of a writer.”

Jin Xian’s hand filled with magical power pushed my chest. Jin Xian’s hand definitely pushed me away, but I felt like I was being sucked into that palm and lost consciousness.

*

I came to my senses with the sound of chains shaking. What you see is an infinitely dark, rainy world. My body was shaking as I felt the chill, as if it were winter rain.

As I pushed back my wet bangs that were blocking my vision, I saw a person who had turned his back and was sitting alone on the ground in the rain, as if he had been doing this for some time. Even without looking at the face, I felt like I knew who the person in front of me was just by looking at the back.

“Ross… ?”

At my question, the person in the rain turned his head over his shoulder. The moment I met his gaze, I couldn’t help but swallow my saliva. Ross was wearing a strange-looking mask that I had seen before. Could it be that this is the same world seen in Nelson’s snow globe?

“long time no see.”

At Ross’s gloomy reply, I tried to get closer but stopped. I felt something intensely uncomfortable.

Jin Xian said that the Ross inside me was fake. Ross, the ‘friend’ who told me to become a hero, is a safety device created by a saint, and his real purpose is to hide the ‘essence’ trapped inside me.

So, is that thing over there a fake Ross? Or is it my true essence that I kept hidden from the saint? Before sending me here, Jin Xian told me to find my essence. Could it be that Ross wearing a mask… .

Memories are scattered in my head like a puzzle. One by one, the puzzles begin to fit into the picture I came up with. If everything Ross said while wearing a mask was true, it would also explain why Ross’ synchronization rate dropped.

I slowly began to speak to Ross, who was wearing a mask and was looking straight at me.

“… “A mask is something to hide your face.”

“You preface things with words without context.”

“If you are really Ross, there is no need to hide your face with a mask.”

There was no answer back. In that case, I have no choice but to continue the story.

“Longing Loss said that the Loss I first met was a fake created by the saint. He said that Loss was originally fused with Jinxian’s soul. Then I wondered what you were when I met you later. You saved me when my body was almost taken by the demon Urakus. And you mentioned that Urakus was a dummy created thanks to probability. Can Ross, who was a character in a novel, figure out probability?”

“I just read your memories.”

I shook my head. He continued speaking while wiping the rain from his eyes with his hand.

“I thought you were Ross, engulfed in the chaos created by the cult leader’s trap. But you said this. “The order was wrong, and the cult leader’s trap was not his.”

“… “Did I do that?”

I answered confidently.

“Okay, so I thought about it. If everything you said was true, how would the story turn out? After thinking about it for a while, I was able to find the correct answer from the conversation we had during our first meeting. “Because you implicitly left out many clues so that we could guess your identity.”

I bit my lip. He continued speaking as if he were spewing out something that was choking in his throat.

“When we first met, I doubted everything around me and denied your words about killing people lightly. Then you answered, ‘This is our true intention.’ Those words made me deny you even more and push you away. “Because I was confident that my true intentions would never be like that.”

Although it hasn’t been long since I came here, the rain was pouring down endlessly and made my whole body wet. It was so cold that my wet clothes were taking away the warmth and my body was shaking uncontrollably. When I think about how difficult it must have been for another person wearing a mask to be alone in such a cold and lonely place, my fists naturally tighten.

“Isn’t it strange? How can I be sure? “I, who shed tears and struggle with guilt over the tragedy caused by a thoughtless line of writing, how can I deny your words and be so sure?”

The other me wearing a mask looked straight at me without answering. Without making a movement, like a person just listening to a story. I sighed. I know now. How could I be so sure. Why do I react so violently to seeing the tragedy that occurred in the world I created?

“… Because you are the madness and chaos that writer Jin Xian possessed. I had no choice but to be convinced that it didn’t exist. “I’m not like that.”

The mask begins to crack. As I looked at the mask that seemed to be collapsing and flowing down with the rain, I spoke in a voice that gradually approached self-deprecation.

“No, actually, is that really my true intention…? “I was afraid.”

The flowing mask completely collapsed and fell off the face. Ross’ blonde hair became increasingly wet from the rain and turned black. Another me, lifting his hand and stroking his face, smiled faintly.

“Yes, I am your madness and chaos. It is also a paradoxical existence created by the author’s contradictions with the creator. That is why the saint took me away from you. Because, unlike you, I only saw the world in print. “The Creator’s choice is a huge contradiction for creation.”

Another part of my identity was Jin Xian’s essence as a writer. Writers who write for fun, satisfaction, and other reasons do not feel guilty about their writing. That is natural. A writer who feels guilty about his imagination is mentally ill.

Everyone’s imagination is free, and the author is not responsible for what happens within the imagination. So, the saint took away the essence of a writer from me. I am afraid that I will casually sacrifice people just for the sake of the ending, think of the world as simply a novel, and treat the characters only as characters.

Maybe it’s because there was a Ross in another universe who told the story that way. One thing is certain: the saint tried to prevent me from gaining the essence of being a writer.

Although there was an awareness of oneself as a writer, the essence of a writer who accepted the tragedy unfolding before his eyes as a story did not exist. The saint excluded the essence of the writer from me, making me feel regret and guilt toward the people who were sacrificed in the flow of the novel.