Creator’s Favoritism

I could hardly believe the secret of this world that I had inadvertently glimpsed. No modern person would easily accept the idea that a webtoon artist had created the entire universe.

“So… we’re inside a webtoon? And this world was created by some artist?”

The demon’s eyes gleamed brightly, clearly pleased that I had grasped the concept. His voice brimmed with joy as he launched into a rambling explanation I hadn’t even asked for.

“Exactly. The webtoon artist Tito. Want to know more? Your god lives alone in Seoul, pays 5,000 won for a deposit, and 45 for monthly rent. He’s studying public administration, and his debut work was a flop… Oh, and he recently lost one of his wireless earbuds.”

A god like that? It was impossible to imagine a deity feeling depressed over something as trivial as a missing earbud.

Noticing the disbelief on my face, the demon burst into gleeful laughter.

“The gods don’t even know they’re gods. Hilarious, right? They have no clue that their creations become new worlds, forming the human realm.”

According to the demon’s offhand explanation, this ‘Tito’ who had created our world seemed to live in a Seoul not so different from the one in this reality.

“So, is this place exactly the same as Tito’s world?” I asked, still trying to process.

“Of course not! The divine realm is much more peaceful than the human realm, obviously. No gates, no monsters. But there are rating attacks.”

I was stunned. After hearing about a god who loses wireless earbuds, the notion of webtoon artists being attacked by ratings felt like the final blow to any reverence I had left.

But more than anything, I couldn’t believe there were no gates in Tito’s world.

“Why would someone living in such a peaceful world create a world like this?”

“Who would read a webtoon full of peaceful events?” the demon retorted, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

My fist clenched involuntarily. Thousands of people died each year because of the gates. I wanted to scream at him—did he understand how many lives were destroyed every day for such a trivial reason?

So, in the end, this world existed purely for the amusement of the gods.

“…Bastards,” I muttered under my breath.

As if on cue, another narration box appeared in the air:

「Tito fiddles with the nib of his digital pen. He thinks about making a cup of coffee before sketching in earnest.」

Unremarkable. Just more mundane actions from a god who seemed as ordinary as any human.

Glancing at these boxes, it was hard to believe that such a figure had created this world. Finally, I voiced the question that had been gnawing at me since the beginning.

“About the contract you said we made. I don’t remember anything about its contents.”

“Ah, right. The contract.”

The demon scratched his chin, as if the thought had only just occurred to him.

With a theatrical ‘poof,’ white smoke enveloped him. When it cleared, his appearance had changed dramatically—from an ordinary school uniform to a hoodie with a black baseball cap pulled low over his eyes.

“I’ll explain this just once because it’s a hassle,” he said. “I turned back time for you to three years before your suicide. Not only that, I gave you a hidden skill to observe the creator of this world.”

The demon, with his hood hiding most of his face, raised his fingers and started ticking them off one by one as he continued.

“I only want one thing from you. When the webtoon ends, you need to be the character the artist loves the most.”

For a moment, I couldn’t comprehend what he meant. Seeing my confusion, the demon frowned and tried again, speaking more plainly.

“To put it simply, you need to become the creator’s favorite. The one they care about most.”

As the demon babbled on excitedly, my gaze shifted behind him. The brightly lit railing of Mapo Bridge stood out in the darkness, its hopeful phrases meant to deter suicide attempts catching my eye.

[You are the protagonist of this world.]

Suddenly, a question popped into my mind. Why had the demon sought me out specifically? He said I had called for him when I was dying, but surely there were countless others who regretted choosing death.

‘Could I be the protagonist of this world?’

I glanced at the demon with suspicion, a hypothesis forming in my mind.

In stories, the character an artist loves most is almost always the protagonist. Could I be the hero Tito had chosen for this world?

“Am I… the protagonist of Tito’s webtoon?”

The demon’s face twisted in disbelief, as if I’d asked the most absurd question imaginable.

“What kind of delusion is that? You’re not even an extra,” he sneered. “Your name isn’t in any of Tito’s character settings. You’ll have to claw your way into this world and make a place for yourself.”

His words were ruthlessly blunt. For a second, I was left speechless. But oddly enough, it wasn’t a crushing blow.

When I was a little kid, not even in elementary school yet, I might’ve believed something like that—that I was the protagonist of this world. But growing up in an environment far below average, you learn things whether you want to or not.

That there are others who are the real protagonists of this world.

Hearing this truth confirmed by a demon didn’t make it any easier to swallow. In fact, it felt even more depressing, as if the weight of reality had been dropped on me all over again.

Worse, I wasn’t even on the level of an extra, let alone the main character. Yet somehow, I had to become the creator’s favorite.

How on earth was I supposed to do that? Charging into a labyrinth and slaying the Minotaur seemed easier by comparison.

But if I asked the demon how to insert myself into a webtoon, I had a feeling he’d blow a gasket. I could already picture his face turning red and blue with irritation.

“Anyway,” he continued, raising an eyebrow at me, “if you become a character more beloved than the protagonist, our contract will be fulfilled. Your daily life will be restored, and I’ll disappear. Simple as that. Any questions?”

I swallowed hard, the question that had been gnawing at me finally forcing its way out.

“What happens if I fail?”

The demon’s smile didn’t falter. “The moment the webtoon concludes, I’ll personally drag you to hell. That’s part of the agreement.”

His tone was disturbingly matter-of-fact, like he was talking about the weather. If I couldn’t achieve the goal he set, I’d die—no fuss, no fanfare. But that wasn’t the worst of it.

“And you know,” he added casually, “if you fail after all this effort, I might get a little… annoyed. Dying won’t be as comfortable as you might hope. Just keep that in mind.”

His grin, which had seemed playful moments before, now looked menacing.

“…So if I don’t become the most beloved character, I die?”

“Something like that. But if you come close, I might make it a little less painful.”

Seeing the fear pooling in my eyes, the demon’s grin softened, and he patted my shoulder lightly.

“Hey. Don’t look so disheartened. You can do whatever it takes to succeed. And I’ll do my best to help you get there too.”

“…What exactly do you gain from this?”

The demon, still holding eye contact, shifted his gaze without moving his head, only his eyeballs rolling toward the watch on his wrist. The sheer unnaturalness of the movement sent another shiver down my spine.

“I said you could do anything, but there are two things you’d better avoid.”

He took off his cap, revealing his face in the sunlight. His expressionless demeanor emphasized every word with chilling clarity.

“First, don’t ask about my purpose.”

For a moment, his pale skin rippled unnaturally, as if something crammed beneath it was stirring.

“And second, don’t ask my name.”

As he spoke the second command, his handsome face distorted, rippling grotesquely. I stumbled back in shock, and the demon’s lips curved into a wide, unsettling smile.

“Ebi.”

He made a sound, playful but eerie, as if he were teasing a child, and tossed his black baseball cap in my direction. I caught it reflexively. The demon grinned, giving me a thumbs-up like we were sharing an inside joke.

“Well then, Sun-woo. Best of luck. I’ll be cheering you on.”

And just like that, with those absurd parting words, the demon vanished as suddenly as he had appeared. I was left standing alone on Mapo Bridge, with only the late winter chill and the cap in my hand.

I turned to my right. The dark blue Han River flowed quietly beneath me. Failure meant a painful death as punishment. Wouldn’t it be better to jump into the river now and get it over with?

As if to snap me out of my thoughts, another narration box appeared.

     [Webtoon artist Tito rotates his wrist to loosen up before drawing the entrance scene for protagonist ‘Kang Chagyeong.’ Tito mutters, ‘Gotta nail the face, no matter what,’ his words echoing in the studio.”]

Kang Chagyeong. I mouthed the unfamiliar name a few times.

So this was the protagonist the creator—my so-called god—had chosen for the webtoon.

The idea that the creator of this world was just an ordinary webtoon artist was still bizarre, but somehow it was becoming easier to accept.

If the gods of the divine realm were no different from regular artists or readers, then their motivations weren’t so mysterious.

What was Tito’s number one goal? It had to be for his webtoon to succeed, to get good reactions and high ratings.

I began to piece together the logic of this world. Gates and hunters, things so obvious to me, were nothing more than exotic plot elements Tito had invented.

So, naturally, hunters would play a significant role in his story.

But I had never heard of a hunter named Kang Chagyeong before.

If this really was inside a webtoon, and Kang Chagyeong was the protagonist, then it was likely the artist had something in mind. Awakening Kang Chagyeong—still just a civilian—as a high-rank hunter seemed plausible.

It was more common for a story to feature a protagonist who accidentally gained tremendous abilities rather than starting with them. Readers tended to prefer that kind of narrative arc.

Especially now, when hunters hadn’t been awakening for a long time. If Kang Chagyeong were to suddenly awaken as a high-rank hunter, it could provide the catharsis of rain after a long drought.

A protagonist shouldering the absolute goodwill of the creator—heavily draped in it. In terms of Greek and Roman mythology, this would be akin to being the son of Zeus or the favorite of Athena. From my perspective, there was no one more enviable.

It seemed impossible to be loved by the gods more than such a protagonist. But I had no other choice.

First, I needed to find the spot where Kang Chagyeong would appear. Given the lack of prior information, the most likely place was Yeouido, where the ‘background cut’ had been drawn.

I swallowed dryly as I stared at Yeouido, where rectangles of light had burst forth in succession.

I had never seen a character who wasn’t even an extra become the favorite of both the artist and the readers. But I had no other options.

I didn’t know why my future self had chosen suicide three years from now, but for now, I just wanted to live—somehow.

If you want to live, you’ve got to do something.

To attract at least minimal attention from readers, I first needed to make frequent appearances.

Taking a deep breath as if about to dive, I began sprinting across Mapo Bridge toward Yeouido.