Chapter 194

Chapter 194

Chapter 194

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The Investor III

Tuning guests' dreams became the definitive task for the new generation of writers. Consequently, their titles evolved significantly.

"DM! I had another fantastic dream last night! Honestly, I enjoy life more when I'm asleep than awake!"

"Ahaha, I'm glad you had a restful sleep."

These authors eventually shed their traditional title of “writers” and became more commonly known as Dream Managers, or DMs for short.

"Well then, have a great day at work, sir. I’m off to sleep..."

"Oh right, DMs sleep during the day! Sleep well!"

While others slept, DMs worked, and while others worked, DMs slept, embracing a nocturnal lifestyle that didn't bother them in the least. Having always been more nocturnal than diurnal even during their writing careers, this shift was hardly a concern.

"Undertaker, have you heard about this DM trend?"

It happened around this time when I heard about the latest fad among writers through an image titled 'recent_writers_updates.jpg' from Dang Seo-rin. As I was always on the move, I was the last to catch on to what was trending among the general populace.

"DM? What's that?"

"Simply put, they're sleep managers. They add a touch of flair to the dreams provided by the fairies."

"Hmm..."

"Anyway, it's all the rage right now. Good DMs are worth their weight in gold and hard to come by."

"What a strange turn of events."

"Right? I even hired a DM myself recently. A huge Harry Potter fan, and we clicked because he prefers the current generation over the old."

Old generation? Current generation?

Bombarded by jargon, I was momentarily puzzled. "So, you've hired a regular person as a personal manager to manipulate dreamscapes, and even granted them access to yours? Isn't that a bit risky?"

"Don’t worry. DMs can’t do anything without the tutorial fairies. As long as the fairies don’t betray us, it's unlikely DMs can get up to anything nefarious."

"Hmm."

I shrugged it off at the time, but in reality, Dang Seo-rin's comment was hiding a bombshell.

As you know, Samcheon World is one of the most prestigious guilds on the Korean Peninsula. Only the best—validated by integrity, loyalty, and talent—are admitted, not just any riffraff. (Except for Yu Ji-won, who sneakily got in through a Latin special admissions program.)

For ordinary people, even dreaming of applying there was out of reach. Yet, a mere civilian not only secured a job there but was hired as a full-time employee? Moreover, as the personal manager of the great witch herself, sharing power with Noh Do-hwa in Busan? Just a regular person?

The writers' community was abuzz.

"Oh, Teacher! I hired a DM too!"

Cheon Yo-hwa poured fuel on the fire. Always a trendsetter among senior high students, she couldn't bear the thought of being outpaced by Dang Seo-rin.

"Oh? Yo-hwa, you too?"

"Yes! I hired a zombie-themed DM, an exorcism-themed DM, and even a cult-themed DM. I've been enjoying dreams about succeeding as a cult leader in a zombie apocalypse for a week straight!"

"......"

If anyone asked why she'd enjoy such dreams, they'd be missing the forest for the trees.

While Dang Seo-rin had hired just one DM, Cheon Yo-hwa had employed three, a critical detail given the intense rivalry between the 'economic capital' of Busan and the 'spiritual capital' of Sejong.

-[Samcheon] WitchJudge: Recently revisited The Little Prince and was struck by a thought. Despite the world having ended once, the tendency to judge everything by numbers persists.

-[Samcheon] WitchJudge: Where has the determination gone to cross even deserts to find that one fox waiting just for me?

└[Baekhwa] SixthGrader: Wow! You only have one fox waiting for you?

"I've been feeling burnt out lately..."

"Huh?"

Writer A. The very same individual who has appeared from beginning to end in this story.

Just for clarity, I didn’t receive permission to use Writer A’s real pen name in my tales, which is why I reluctantly refer to him as Writer A.

He's extremely timid by nature, and his pen name ends with the sound 'A'.

Anyway.

"What are you talking about, DM? Your cocktail bar is booming. You've even expanded to accommodate fifty patrons and hired up to five bartender NPCs. Oh, and that new bartender NPC you hired last week is getting rave reviews!"

"DM, DM, that damn DM..."

"Huh?"

"I am a writer! A writer! And writing, creation—it's not like this!"

Crash.

Writer A smashed a wine glass in front of his assistant writer.

It seemed only yesterday that they couldn't even afford water and were forced to drink what rain they could collect, yet here he was, already adopting bourgeois affectations now that he had found some success.

"Look at what I've been reduced to! Greeting guests with 'irasshaimase', mixing cocktails all day, fussing over the looks and backstories of newly hired bartenders... Is this what being a writer is? Is it?!"

"But you're making a million won a day without breaking a sweat—"

"The bleak yet beautiful worldviews! Vibrant characters! The saga of defeat and victory, the schemes and plots, a midnight ball where some dance and others walk the scaffold—that's what I want to write! Aaaaargh!"

"......"

For those unaware, let me introduce 'new-work-itis', a chronic disease that strikes any writer who has serialized the same work for over 18 months. There’s also 'remake-itis', 'suspension-itis', 'relay-novel-itis', 'competition-itis', 'my-writing-sucks-itis', 'my-writing-rocks-itis', and 'can't-write-unless-it's-about-the-heroine-itis', among others—diseases that manifest only in writers.

It's astonishing that such flawed creatures have managed to survive on Earth this long. If you're not shocked enough yet, I apologize, but there's more.

"But alone, I could never create such a perfect dream..."

And here, Writer A made a distinctly writer-like, which is to say foolishly human, decision.

First, he gathered the seven colleagues he had once shared a stew with. Now they had become the pioneering elites of this industry, having risen to such status that they now held gatherings in pork belly restaurants, not mere stew joints.

"Honestly, you're all tired too, right?"

"Well, um..."

"The great witch is fine for the most part, but her requirements are just too demanding... Sometimes, she says something in the dream isn't historically accurate, but honestly, that’s not my fault. The original author herself was inconsistent..."

"Exactly!" Writer A slammed down his rice wine glass with a bang. "Let's create something together!"

"What?"

"Each of us will take on a few main characters and develop their profiles. Then we'll combine it all. Let's also build a world together. You're good at political intrigue, so you handle that, and you write war stories well, right? So, balance the interactions between fictional nations!"

Writer A declared, "We are the first writers in human history who can manipulate dreams! How long will we timidly tinker with the dreams of the powerful? Guys! Let’s create an MMORPG with unprecedented freedom, a perfect 'virtual world'!"

"...!"

Yes.

Writer A and the supreme eight had sadly contracted the most dreaded of all writerly diseases, simply uttering its name causes one's entire body to shudder: the scourge of all evils.

Group·Project·Itis.

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