Fated to Die in an Academy Novel – Chapter 127

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: JayM
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Chapter 127:

Well, after all that, we managed to stay friends even as adults.

Although she couldn’t meet me as often as before because of her parents, it didn’t matter.

‘How’s this protagonist?’

‘Isn’t he too bland? These days, overly righteous characters are annoying and unpopular.’

‘I’m aiming for a niche market. I’m targeting what others aren’t doing!’

‘No one will read it. There’s a reason why others aren’t doing it.’

‘Do you want to die? Backseat driv—’

After she got a smartphone, we could text and call.

Thanks to her contacting me first, I was able to get back in touch with my middle school friends as well, and life went on.

I laughed and chatted with her when she visited, took care of her when she got completely wasted, and visited the orphanage to play with the younger kids when I had time.

That seemingly unchanging daily life started to twist when her writing didn’t gain popularity.

Or rather, her changed environment didn’t allow her to live like before.

In the past, when her writing was bad, we would laugh about it, fix it, and that would be the end of it.

We sometimes argued because I teased her too much, but it always ended with, “You’ll do better next time.”

But her parents weren’t like that. Perhaps they didn’t like that she was writing in the first place.

She was slowly crumbling under their constant pressure.

Her writing started showing signs of anxiety, and she started trying to copy others, even though she hated it.

But she couldn’t completely break her habits, and she couldn’t even copy properly as a result, so her writing became even less popular.

When I saw her after a long time, she wasn’t as cheerful as before.

What was my first thought?

I gave way because I thought they could make her happier than I could, so why did she look more miserable?

It was probably resentment.

…No, of course, I understood.

They probably pressured her, but they must have also worried and agonized over her to drive her to this state.

An unpopular web novelist.

Her income was practically nonexistent.

And they were probably worried because she grew up in an orphanage and had nothing to fall back on.

But understanding and accepting were different matters.

“Hey, why do you look so gloomy when we’re meeting after a long time? Are you bored? So this isn’t even a date anymore?”

I wasn’t the one who was bored.

Why did she have such a stressed look on her face?

I knew what she was going to say, why she called me after such a long time.

It was written all over her face that she wanted to give up, and I knew her well enough to see it.

“What are you talking about?”

I knew…

This was part of growing up.

I also knew that not everyone could achieve their dreams.

‘…You said the character was based on Ms. Cathy? They don’t look alike.’

‘Well, I adapted it. I couldn’t just use her as she was. I used other people as references for the other characters too. You’re in it too.’

‘…This guy who dies in the beginning?’

‘Yeah.’

‘…Do you want to die?’

“Date my ass, let’s go eat. What do you want?”

‘Why are you going off the rails after pretending it’s a coming-of-age story, you idiot! Who would read this!?’

‘That’s how life is! I hate forced happy endings!’

‘No, you idiot, a novel is a novel! Reality is already shitty, who wants to read about shitty things in a novel too! You should have written a tragedy from the start if that was what you wanted to do!’

“Your language is so beautiful. I want pasta.”

“You didn’t even eat stuff like that before. Your tastes have become expensive.”

‘And why did you kill all the heroines!?’

‘Hey, I never said they were heroines. Don’t you know what a tragic heroine is? Lilac isn’t that kind of character.’

‘Do you think readers will understand just because you think that way!? You should at least explain it!’

‘An author speaks through their writing, not their mouth.’

‘Your novel’s views are in the toilet…!!!!’

Seeing her flinch at the price of the pasta annoyed me.

“Hey, why don’t we just…”

“I’ll pay since we’re meeting after a long time.”

“Ah, what are you saying? I can’t let you do that. I’d feel bad.”

Feel bad? Why would you feel bad?

“Then you can pay for karaoke.”

I might seem ahead of her now because I’ve been working since I was young.

But she wasn’t going to end here.

She was going to become a successful author, earning enough to consider this pasta chump change, wasn’t she?

It was a dream I imposed on her, so it wasn’t just her dream anymore.

So, I wouldn’t let her give up.

Even if it was a terrible novel that everyone else, and even she, wanted to give up on…

…It was a world we created together while talking all night long. It was a story that held a different meaning for me.

If others were pressuring her and giving her a hard time because there was no immediate profit, no direct income…

…I would take care of it.

…I foolishly thought that way and messed up.

It was money I saved, thinking I would take care of her until she became an author, so we could live together.

It was money I kept saving, even though I knew it wouldn’t happen anymore.

Then I would use it to keep our dream alive.

-You have donated 3000 coins to the author.

Support message: I always enjoy reading your work. It might not be mainstream, but I think it’s a good story that showcases your unique style. Please don’t give up and keep writing.

“[Huh!? Reader-nim, thank you so much for the donation…!?]”

You were happy and regained your energy.

So, I thought I did the right thing.

I foolishly leaned on you, cheered for you, and imposed my ideals on you.

I didn’t realize it would lead to ruin, blinded as I was by your happy face.

I liked hearing you brag about getting your first donation on the phone.

I made a foolish choice.

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If a novel wasn’t interesting, readers would drop it.

30 readers read the latest chapter, which was over 100 chapters in.

But you still tried your best to write.

Those who read your novel occasionally left harsh criticisms.

And you would hesitate, unable to write the story you wanted, so I sent another donation.

-Author-nim! Cheer up! I’m enjoying it today as well!

‘So, there should be some lighthearted moments. No, but seriously, how is Lilac, that bastard, enduring without any hope!?’

I cheered for you through donations, but I spoke to you like usual on the phone while hoping you would do better.

15 readers read the latest chapter, which was over 300 chapters in.

We fought fiercely in the comments section.

Whether killing Cathy was the right choice, whether the villains lacked charm, whether the protagonist himself was flawed…

I sent another donation because I didn’t want you to be hurt by those comments.

The readers who cheered for Baek Seol’s appearance were enraged when Yoo-na died.

10 readers remained.

-Ah, I can’t take it anymore. Is this even a novel? Lol.

-This is ridiculous. I was reading this academy story while wondering when Lilac would finally be happy, but I didn’t expect this shit even after 400 chapters and graduating from the academy!

-Let’s just have him date Cheon Yoo-hak at this point.

ㄴEven Cheon Yoo-hak would probably die lol.

I sent another donation on the days the comments were especially harsh.

-Are you trying to keep me alive with donations…? It was too big a donation, so I had to say that. Thank you…! So much…!

You seemed cheerful in the afterword, but in reality, you were becoming gloomier.

You stopped coming to alumni reunions at some point.

You answered the phone with a tired voice more often, and I started saying I missed you.

A messed up world.

A broken creator.

The views continued to plummet, and finally, the latest chapter only had 3 views.

Three readers.

One of them was me, and the other was you, so there was only one reader in the true sense of the word.

Our dream, which we desperately clung to, was already over, and it seemed like I was the only one who didn’t know.

And then…

…by sheer coincidence…

…I made a stupid mistake and got caught.

I was careless because we were meeting after a long time.

I was so happy I forgot to double-check.

I asked to see her favorites list while saying that I needed to study again, and the problem was that I handed her my smartphone without realizing I was logged into my donation account.

By the time I realized it, it was too late.

I was caught.

“Hey, what is this?”

Of course.

The only novel in the favorites list was hers, “The Holy Sword Hero of the Academy.”

“What is this?”

And naturally, the donation history was there for all to see.

I thought I could just apologize and it would be over.

That is, until I saw her face contorted with betrayal and despair with tears streaming down her cheeks, an expression I had never seen before.

It was my bad habit.

Reaching conclusions on my own, not explaining myself, trying to solve things alone without understanding others…

Perhaps it was because, somewhere in my heart, I arrogantly thought “What difference would it make even if I told her?”

Stupid bastard. Who did I think I was?

I would also make her make that face with a small mistake like this.

It would have been nothing if I had told her first. But now, anything I said would sound like an excuse.

So, I cowardly closed my mouth.

That was another one of my bad habits.

“Hey, was it fun? Amusing?”

No.

“Do you even know how happy I was with every single one of those messages?”

I knew. You bragged about it every day, and I worked harder for you because of it. How could I not know?

“I finally earned some money, bragged to my parents who looked down on me as an author, and used that money to commission illustrations. Were you laughing at me all along?”

“…No.”

“No? Then you shouldn’t have. MYou should have at least told me. What am I supposed to think now? I worked hard for the person who donated. I worked hard because they said they enjoyed it. And you kept complaining about the novel. Were any of those support messages sincere?”

They were.

Ironically, both were my true feelings.

“…Do you even know what kind of money that was? It was money you knew I earned through hard work. And I used it to act generous and buy things for my parents. What am I supposed to think?”

It was money I didn’t mind spending, no matter how, as long as it was for you.

“Or did you pity me?”

“No.”

I should be honest now, but my mouth wouldn’t move, no words coming out.

And then…

“Why did you do that…!? That money… How could you use it like that…!?”

She also hit a nerve.

…Like that?

What do you mean, “like that”?

I knew she didn’t mean it that way.

I understood she was upset.

But it felt like all the things I did for her were being dismissed as “like that,” and I couldn’t stand it.

“It’s my money, so what does it matter to you how I spend it?”

“It matters because you spent it on me, you crazy bastard.”

We glared at each other.

She, who was slightly taller than me when we first met, was now a head shorter.

She, who I thought would always be a child, seemed to be wearing makeup, but her face was now a mess from crying.

“…I’m done.”

-Hey! I like writing stories. Read this.

“Done with what?”

“I’m quitting everything.”

“Quitting what?”

“The novel, all this shitty stuff. There’s only one reader besides you, so who cares what anyone says.”

…I didn’t want her to quit.

These were the characters we created together.

It was a messed up world, but that was why it couldn’t end like this.

If she stopped now, what was the point of all their suffering?

At least write the original ending of that world. What about those who struggled to see that scene?

But I couldn’t say anything.

I was the one who encouraged her to continue this dream, a child’s dream that should have ended long ago.

“I’m sorry.”

“…What are you sorry for?”

“I’m sorry for wasting the precious money you gave me.”

Don’t cry.

I didn’t give it to you to make you cry.

“Don’t be sorry. So…”

“…Sorry, I can’t hear your voice anymore today. If I do…”

She turned around completely.

“…I’ll crumble because I feel so pathetic.”

After she left, I stood there blankly for a long time.

Even after the movie we were supposed to watch had started.

“…That money… I saved it for you.”

What would have changed if I had told her that sooner?

Around the time I arrived home that day…

…the novel was marked as discontinued, and no more chapters were uploaded.

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T/N – Jesus Christ! Why do you have to make me feel like this!? This was so hard to translate, mostly because it was so hard to read as someone who doesn’t like overly dramatic romance plots. Made me cringe so hard all the way through.

Also, one reader, you say? Red flags and alarm sounds all over that detail. Is it the so-called Creator?

Lastly, so the reason the original novel went to shit was because the author friend got too pressured by life. I can relate to that. While some (mostly bosses and CEOs who don’t give a shit about their employees’ mental health) perpetuate BS about people working best under pressure, not everyone is built like that. And working under pressure is NOT a fun experience, let me tell you.

If you find any mistakes, feel free to point them out in the comments.