After Lee Gilyoung visited the “Recycling Center,” the daily routine of <Kim Dokja Company> changed a little.

“The circuit to the 41st regression worldline is unstable. It’ll probably be difficult to enter directly for a while.”

“Then… we can’t go see Mister anymore?”

To Shin Yoosung’s question, Lee Seolhwa answered with a gloomy expression.

“Biyu is restoring the line, so there’ll be another chance.”

For the time being, <Kim Dokja Company> could no longer enter the 41st regression in the form of “possession.”

The only line still connected was the “supporting constellation line” Yoo Sangah used.

“Sangah, please refrain from exercising your supporting constellation’s authority if you can.”

Yoo Sangah’s line was the only path <Kim Dokja Company> currently had to affect the 41st regression.

If even that path got blocked, <Kim Dokja Company> wouldn’t be able to intervene in the “41st regression” at all.

“And Joonghyuk, too. You can’t secretly go near the Void Curtain again. If you do it again… Joonghyuk?”

Yoo Joonghyuk, who had been beside them just a moment ago, was nowhere to be seen.

As Lee Seolhwa let out a small sigh, Yoo Sangah added as if to comfort her.

“Joonghyuk probably understood, too.”

“You think so?”

“He’s not that much of an idiot.”

Sometimes he really did act like a complete idiot, though. The two of them barely swallowed the rest of the thought they both shared.

Right then, the door flew open and Lee Gilyoung and Lee Jihye came in. Perched on top of Lee Gilyoung’s head was the familiar “little Kim Dokja,” and from the look of their getup, it seemed they’d just gone for a short walk nearby.

Sneaking a glance at the mood, Lee Gilyoung sat down in front of Han Sooyoung’s laptop on the table and asked,

“Unnis. Did it update again today?”

When Lee Seolhwa nodded, Shin Yoosung and Lee Jihye gathered in front of the laptop, too.

The only hobby <Kim Dokja Company> had lately, after losing any way to interfere with the 41st regression.

It was reading the “41st regression” story that kept being newly written into the manuscript file of 『Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint』 that Han Sooyoung had left behind.

“Whoa, it’s real. It got longer again.”

“Is Sooyoung unni really serializing it?”

“I don’t think so. The writing style is kind of different.”

“Lee Gilyoung, do you even know what ‘writing style’ means?”

“Don’t look down on people, Shin Yoosung.”

Ignoring him, Shin Yoosung checked the new installment’s subtitle.

“A Huge Joke… what does that mean?”

“Someone must’ve told a really funny joke.”

“You’re such an idiot. You think that’s really what it is?”

As Lee Gilyoung and Shin Yoosung bickered, Lee Jihye grabbed both of their shoulders and said,

“Move, both of you. If you’re not gonna read, let me.”

“You don’t even read novels that well.”

“I read Sooyoung unni’s novels, okay?”

The three of them struggled for a while around a single small chair, then started scrolling and turning the pages.

After finishing several installments, the three of them let out short breaths and said,

“Ah, Cheon Inho is gonna show up soon.”

“But does it even make sense that Cheon Inho lived this long in the 40th regression? We went through all that and crossed the [Final Wall].”

“It’ll probably get revealed next episode.”

Muttering, the three of them fell silent, almost at the same time, stealing glances at each other. Even without saying anything, they could tell they all felt the same.

<Was this how Mister Reader felt every time, too.>

As if it had heard that thought, the little Kim Dokja on Lee Gilyoung’s head went thump onto the table and put its hand on Han Sooyoung’s monitor.

A light spark crackled from the laptop—tststst.

“Huh?”

Was it an error? The laptop power blinked, and the document warped.

Noticing the font for a certain character’s name breaking, Shin Yoosung startled and asked,

“Hey, Lee Gilyoung. What did you press?”

“What are you talking about? Didn’t you break it?”

“Unni, you saw it too, right? The last one to touch the keyboard was Lee Gilyoung—”

Instead of answering Shin Yoosung, Lee Jihye stared blankly down at her own hands.

Lee Jihye slowly opened her mouth.

“That’s weird. Did I get farsighted already?”

Lee Seolhwa asked with a bitter smile.

“This kid… what are you talking about?”

“No, it’s just… isn’t it kind of weird? Did my eyes get blurry?”

“Blurry?”

In that moment, Lee Seolhwa’s expression changed. Yoo Sangah also looked grim.

Lee Jihye, who still hadn’t seen their faces, tilted her head and muttered,

“Doesn’t it feel like we… got a little faint? Am I imagining it?”

The laptop blinked once more, and then a new sentence appeared.

<And so, an extra with no presence at last reached the final chapter of the world.>

*

<And so, an extra with no presence at last reached the final chapter of the world.>

It was the story of a narrow-eyed man wearing a dark crimson coat.

<The world finally remembered his name.>

Some called him the “Evil Sophist,” and some called him the “One Who Deceived the Stars.”

But there was only one true name the world had given him.

<His name is ‘Cheon Inho.’>

Cheon Inho, who had cleared the Final Scenario, was on the verge of his last breath. He had lost his right arm, the shinbone in his left leg was exposed, and both cheeks were ripped long enough to reveal the ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) inside of his mouth.

Even so, he was smiling. As if smiling was the only way he could mock this world.

‘So you really made it this far.’

It truly had been a long, distant journey. To explain everything that had happened would take a sprawling epic of over ten volumes, and even that wouldn’t be enough.

Thinking that, Cheon Inho let out a bitter laugh.

Leaving the fallen Ark behind, he slowly moved his feet, and a distant fog rolled in as if wrapping around the base of his existence.

‘The Final Fog.’

Cheon Inho had heard that name before, too.

A fog he’d seen in the memories of myth-grade Constellations. A mysterious veil covering the region where all scenarios ended.

At the end of this veil would be the secret <Star Stream> had concealed all along.

Cheon Inho walked through the fog, and walked, and walked. How long had he walked like that? When he came to, he realized something enormous was blocking his way.

A wall.

[The ‘Final Wall’ is watching you.]

[Final Wall]. Cheon Inho repeated the wall’s name in his mind.

Thinking, what the hell is this now, he reached out his hand—and with a violent spark, the wall rebuffed him. As if he had no right to touch it.

As Cheon Inho frowned and was about to speak, a voice came from behind him.

[Touch it again and this time you’ll die.]

“......”

[You’re an interesting one. How did you get here?]

Cheon Inho slowly turned around, and a massive goblin was staring down at him. Eyes that intuited the beginning and end of a world were there.

Cheon Inho looked up at those eyes quietly, then opened his mouth.

“So we finally meet.”

At his attitude—showing no intimidation at all even while facing it—the goblin’s eyes flickered with something unusual.

As if savoring that reaction, Cheon Inho added,

“Pleased to meet you. O ‘Goblin King’ of this world.”

[You recognize me.]

“Wouldn’t it be strange not to? More importantly, you’ve come all this way to appear before me in person—are you finally here to bestow the Final Scenario reward?”

[Final Scenario reward?]

As if asking what the hell he meant, the Goblin King rolled its huge eyes.

[Don’t tell me you cleared the ‘Final Scenario’?]

“After seeing me here, can you really not tell?”

[That can’t be……]

The Goblin King hurriedly scrutinized Cheon Inho, then added,

[That’s strange. That worldline is already a ‘discarded’ one.]

“Discarded?”

[It means a worldline no one looks at, a worldline with no value at all. And yet the scenarios were still going on?]

Cheon Inho smiled cryptically as if he couldn’t understand, tilting his head, then asked back,

“Does it matter whether someone looks at my story or not? I cleared every scenario you set.”

[I can’t believe you cleared the scenarios normally.]

“If you’re that suspicious, why don’t you look into my story?”

After hesitating, the Goblin King extended a thick finger. Before long, Cheon Inho’s story began to be read at the tip of that finger.

And a moment later.

[This is…… I can’t believe it. You……?]

With faint astonishment, the Goblin King let out a sigh.

[Using a giant nebula’s ‘giant story’ like this… how… did you imitate the ‘Oldest Dream’s puppet’?]

Cheon Inho nodded, spreading his single arm proudly.

“I used a few loopholes, but now you believe I cleared the Final Scenario, right?”

[Interesting. Truly interesting. And it’s a shame. If the ‘Oldest Dream’ were still watching this worldline…….]

The Goblin King pondered for a long time, then asked Cheon Inho,

[What reward do you want?]

“What reward can you give?”

[Anything.]

Anything.

As if he’d been waiting for those words all along, an inexplicable ecstasy rose in Cheon Inho’s expression.

The Goblin King continued.

[If you want immortality, I’ll grant you immortality. If you want endless wealth, I can give you endless wealth. If you want to become the god of a world, I can make that happen. If you want to revive someone precious, I will revive that person for you.]

“If you revive someone precious, will that person be the same ‘precious person’ I remember?”

[Yes. I will revive them exactly as they were—an existence not a hair different from your memory.]

“My. Then I’d only be getting a replica of the ‘precious person’ in my memory.”

[You could see it that way. Indeed—thinking like an existence that made it this far.]

The Goblin King laughed heartily, as if delighted.

[Tell me what reward you want.]

“The reward I want is.”

Cheon Inho drew in a light breath and said,

“To meet ‘Overlord Yoo Joonghyuk’ one more time.”

The Goblin King’s expression shifted subtly.

[By Overlord, do you mean the ‘Oldest Dream’s puppet’?]

“That’s what the Constellations call him, sometimes.”

[Why do you want to meet him again?]

“I want to fight him one more time.”

[Oh, what a romantic reason.]

“And after I beat him again, I’ll say this.”

A strange madness flickered in Cheon Inho’s expression.

“Look at this. In the world where you failed, I finally did it.”

The Goblin King stared at Cheon Inho’s face for a moment.

The Goblin King’s expression slowly twisted. Only after a beat did Cheon Inho understand what it meant.

The Goblin King was smiling.

[Small incarnation. You can’t meet him again. From birth, he is a different existence from you.]

“What do you mean?”

[Hm… yes. You came this far, so you have the right to confirm ‘that.’]

As if mulling something over, the Goblin King stared into empty space for a moment, then snapped its fingers.

[Look.]

With a light finger snap, sentences appeared before his eyes.

<Yoo Joonghyuk thought. In this regression, I will never fail. No—I must not fail. I cannot repeat the last regression again. I will not repeat that despair, that sorrow. To do that, first……>

Watching the story that continued endlessly in midair, Cheon Inho muttered,

“What is this?”

[Story.]

“I know that. What I’m asking is—”

[Story that makes him a ‘character.’]

When the Goblin King lightly reached out, the flowing sentences slid along its hand and gently hovered.

[More precisely, you could call it the most important ‘story’ in this entire universe.]

The sentences drifted around the Goblin King like a dance, then were sucked into the [Final Wall].

[All stories in this worldline exist for the completion of that ‘story.’]

“What is that story, exactly?”

[Originally, you have no right to confirm its name, but… well, who cares. This worldline is discarded anyway.]

As if nothing would change even if someone like Cheon Inho learned the truth, the Goblin King grinned.

[Now, this is the truth of the universe you struggled through to survive.]

When the Goblin King opened its palm, there was a single book there. A wind from somewhere flipped its pages.

Cheon Inho began reading the sentence on the first page out loud.

“There are three ways to survive in a ruined world.”

The moment he read it, Cheon Inho was engulfed by an unknown disgust. His instincts were warning him. Don’t read this story. This was the truth of a world he didn’t need to know. Even so, Cheon Inho couldn’t stop.

“I’ve forgotten a few things now. But one thing is certain. That is… that you, reading this right now, will survive.”

Blankly, Cheon Inho reached out and checked the book’s title. The name of the world he had lived in was written there.

『Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint』.