Chapter 0
There was a Webtoon I enjoyed watching.
The title was “Magical Girls Don’t Fall,” a typical, common magical girl webtoon.
No, to be precise, it’s hard to even call it a Webtoon. “Magical Girls Don’t Fall,” or abbreviated as “MagFall,” was a work uploaded by an amateur author.
However, to me, it resonated more than any work by a professional author. So, even though there were almost no other readers except me, I steadfastly continued reading the work.
But eventually, the author seemed to give up on the hope of official serialization, and the author ended the work, In the worst possible way.
The way it ended was with all the main characters who had appeared so far being killed by the final boss, leading to the conclusion.
Enraged by the ending, I left a comment full of uncontrollable anger, unlike the comments I had written so far.
“I didn’t expect you to end it like this. I’m really disappointed. I know the chances of getting an official serialization were low, and I understand how hard it must have been to continue publishing without making any profit. But no matter what, to end it this way is disrespectful to the readers who have been following your work.”
Starting with that kind of comment, I wrote nearly 5,700 characters in total. The author responded to my comment.
“I’m truly sorry, MooilpoonJotso Laborer (Unpaid Shitty Small Laborer). I, too, wanted to end it differently, but due to unavoidable circumstances, I had to conclude it like this. If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask a favor of you, who have been consistently following my work.”
“A favor?”
A request from the author of a work I loved. I furrowed my brows and thought for a moment.
Certainly, ending it this way was frustrating, but I couldn’t just curse at the author of my favorite work.
Just what kind of request could it be? While I was pondering that, the author’s next response came.
“I’d like you to change the ending of this Webtoon.”
“What?”
That was the last thing I remembered.
…
“What the hell…?”
I looked around the room in a daze. The entire room was filled with thick smoke.
It was white, dense smoke everywhere. I pulled off the tape that was stuck to the window and opened it to let the smoke out.
I knew what this smoke was. It was from a charcoal briquette. And I also knew what kind of situation this was.
Tape was stuck all over the window and the door, sealing them tightly, and the charcoal briquettes inside were emitting smoke. In other words, the owner of this room had been trying to commit suicide by inhaling the briquette smoke.
Waking up to such a sight, I could only assume that the story surrounding this room must be tragic.
However, there was something that concerned me even more than that.
“What the hell is this?”
In the smoke-filled room, in front of the mirror, stood a figure clad in jet-black armor, like a monster.
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