The Editor Is the Novel’s Extra

“Oh, it feels cool…”

Kleio sat in the bathtub and poured water on Behemoth’s back, who was sticking his front paws in. Behemoth, cultured, in many ways, seemed to like bathing more than being able to drink alcohol.

“The water is so hot; what’s cool about that?”

“Hot is cool. You don’t know.”

“You’re the one who’s been sitting for too long.”

“It’s just been a week.”

“What the hell?! While this cat sleeps deeply, didn’t you go into the Door of Mnemosyne without fear?”

“That… I didn’t mean to do that…”

“Ah, don’t make excuses.”

Behemoth, turning around, used his hind feet to splash water at Kleio, hitting him squarely.

“Ugh.”

His nose felt dull from the surprise attack. Kleio stood up, grabbing both sides of the bathtub as he did. Promise still shone smoothly on the index finger of his left hand. However, the item name revealed now wasn’t the same as before. As soon as the cumulative rate of the narrative intervention was confirmed to be 23.1%, the word came to mind like a seal was released.

[Bound Item: Clio’s Promise]

Clio. He knew the name.

‘Clio is a muse of history. Kleio itself is just the Greek pronunciation of Clio…’

At this point, he knew for sure it was an item full of tremendous power. After momentarily regretting naming that giant greedy cat, the devil Behemoth, he confirmed that there was a high possibility that the Muse’s name was attached to the Palimpsest. Terpsichore’s Lira had already shown up, and now Clio, so it seemed like a matter of time until more of the Muse’s names popped up.

‘But, so?’

Even knowing the hidden name, none of the secrets of the world had been revealed. Instead, he felt confronted by an even bigger mystery. He turned Memory on and went over the manuscript a few more times but found no more clues.

‘Relics are from another world. These abilities, named after the Muses, are elements from outside the story. So, no matter how many times I go through it, I won’t find an answer.’

Kleio imagined the scroll scattering in his imaginary landscape as doubt took a straightforward form in his heart. What if the work he read wasn’t one that faithfully described the world, and its perspective wasn’t as holistic as it seemed? It could explain the omission of the Muse’s descriptions and the state of the world that hadn’t been mentioned in the book.

‘But such an assumption only works by ignoring the fact that this is a fictional world written by the author. Rather, it is only possible when describing a world that originally existed in writing.’

Question after question emerged, shaking the premises he had come to think as natural. How did this world come about? Wasn’t it too easy to judge the idea of coming to another world as a novelty? He had quickly accepted the idea that this world was a manuscript, having plenty of evidence that suggested that was the case. Besides, he was too old to try and escape from reality.

‘Melchior clearly knows that the manuscript is being rewritten. I’m sure of it.’

How could the real world be revised again and again? The same went for Editor’s Authority. If this weren’t a world of fiction but a completely independent time and space, how could he go back with some minor corrections and undo what had happened?

‘More than anything else, there’s an author!’

The one who had sent Jungjin to this world through an email and created the Archbishop that resembled Minsun certainly existed.

‘But if the self-proclaimed Clio is the author, it cools down completely. Does the Muse kidnap people at Dongjak bridge? Yeah, right.’

He didn’t know if there was a clue to be found in the fact that Minsun’s image was in the book. He was guessing at the purpose of the author, which he hadn’t understood so far.

‘I’d like to meet Archbishop Istoria once. Even if I ask Zebedee, it’s said the Archbishop is in bad condition.’

He heard that the Archbishop was over a hundred years old, though divine power kept her appearance young. With a long sigh, Kleio poured hot water over his face. Rather than contemplating a problem he couldn’t solve right now, he decided to reach out to the shelf behind the bathtub and open the weekly magazine. All of the newspapers and magazines this week were raging about Arthur.

-Who is the Third Prince Arthur Riognan?-

-The Prince of Swordsman destroys the Remembered World-

-Is it the second coming of the legend?-

The seventeen-year-old prince that had cleared the remembered world began to arouse the public’s curiosity. Even though he was young, he had an ether level of 5 and an appearance reminiscent of Leonid the first, so he was bound to attract attention. Kleio swept through the page with the pen drawing.

‘What? Unlike when I was in the press, the illustrations seemed a bit different.’

Arthur, standing dignified with the side of his face revealed, seemed inferior to the main character.

‘In fact, he rarely makes such a serious expression.’

It wasn’t uncommon for a swordsman to have superior power, but a prince with excellent power was a rare entity. The people of the kingdom of Albion still believed in the myth of the king holding a sword, even though nine centuries had passed since its founding. It was an old idea, of a king of knights with hair like the sun and sea-like eyes.

‘Aslan is a high-level swordsman, but the public appeal is weak because of what he does.’

Aslan himself didn’t know what to think, but his dark hair and eyes weren’t his only problem. Those eyes twisted by his temper and dark passion ruined his impression.

‘Seeing him, there’s no question. It’s the type no one wants to know.’

Of course, he did have concrete support from the pro-queens group, including Count Ramsdale and Duke Cruel. Among them, Duke Cruel, who commanded the Southeast Defensive Army, was one of Albion’s most powerful nobles. His territory was on the border with Brunnen, and until a hundred years ago, it was part of the Brunnen monarchy. Absalom II’s victory over the Klotto river made it part of Albion’s territory, subjugated to the Reignan royal family. That was why Cruel supported Aslan, who was the child of Brunnen’s princess.

‘From the perspective of a citizen of Albion, he’s an unpleasant royal.’

As Kleio skimmed through the article about Arthur, he accidentally covered the magazine with water.

‘Uh?!’

What caught his eye at that moment was the on the back of the magazine. The phrase ‘de Neju Est Hotel’ was nicely written on top of a lovely building depicted on the back. When he read the small print at the bottom, it was an for the currently being constructed de Neju Hotel. It seemed construction was progressing fast.

‘I believe I heard that using magic can raise buildings faster than usual. I have to go here and see it.’

.

.

.

Kleio grabbed Behemoth and wrapped him in a towel so he would stop tracking water into the living room.

“Wow, don’t ruin my silk-like hair the wrong way!”

The clothes he had just put on got soaking wet again while he caught the cat trying to escape. A clear voice rang out as he struggled with Behemoth.

“What’s wrong, young master?!”

“Lady Dione.”

“I will clean Behemoth, so put on some socks and a sweater. Hurry, your lips are bluish!”

Kleio, buffeted by Dione’s force of will, did what he was told. When he came out again into the dormitory living room, the room had been warmed by the stove, and a glass of tea was placed on the table. Dione, wearing light purple outdoor clothes with pearl buttons, was eager to hold Behemoth without worrying about wrinkling her clothes.

“You look much better after taking a bath!”

“Meow (I can see that).”

Dione, who was drying Behemoth, scrutinized Kleio, her eyebrows rising gradually.

“What is with your complexion? It’s like you’re barely alive.”

“Lady Dione…”

He couldn’t say she was too talkative.

“You came out of the door looking ruined, and the swordsmen wouldn’t let me in. Do you know how worried I was?”

In fact, Kleio had slept for three days after exiting the door. He had heard that Arthur and Isiel took the lead while he was unconscious. When he woke up, he was already in the dorm’s bedroom, feeling much better. He heard that they had contacted the mansion, so Dione must’ve been worried.

“I’m sorry for the trouble.”

“If you know how to apologize, don’t get into an accident in the first place.”

Although her words were rough, Dione’s eyes were filled with concern. It felt so strange that someone was concerned about him, so he didn’t know how to deal with it.

“If you’re going to blame me for entering the remembered world, you should know the whole story. There were some unavoidable circumstances.”

Patting Behemoth, Dione gracefully sat down in a chair. After that, she gently lifted her teacup as Kleio’s words grew faster and faster.

“It wasn’t just about money, though I did acquire a pumpkin and rose mana stone. There was also a magic tool…”

“There’s nothing to see. You didn’t enter the remembered world because of those trinkets, but because of Prince Arthur. What surprised me was that you had already confronted Prince Aslan. Baronet Asel was also concerned.”

Dione emptied her mug as she watched him, then she produced a sealed letter from her handbag. Seeing that no postmark was imprinted on it, it was clearly a letter sent by a person rather than the mail service.

“Your father sent it. Read it.”

Kleio accepted it and opened the envelope immediately.

[It is the best practice to be careful about confrontation.

Reflect on it before execution.

Take care of yourself.

Gideon Asel]

As usual with the Baronet, it was a bleak and short message. Dione continued quietly as if she had guessed the contents already.

“Now everyone knows that you chose Arthur. Your father will be embarrassed.”

“He’s capable and will behave well on his own.”

“Lei, Baronet Asel is worried about you, not his own comfort. Prince Aslan unveiled that he needed to know what you are doing. Baronet Asel’s investigation department caught wind of it.”

“Well, now, my magic will need to keep my body safe.”

“You sound stupid. Do you think the world’s affairs will be solved with magic?”

Dione put her teacup down and turned to the wall, glancing at the paper box placed between the napping Behemoth and the table. Kleio was noticing it for the first time.

“What is that?”

“An invitation to the mansion, a greeting card, a letter proposing a meeting. I criticized the useless things and brought only what was worth responding to. I heard you awoke earlier and came, but it was said that many times more mail arrived here.”

“What is it? This time, nothing was published in the newspaper, so I thought it passed me by quietly.”

“No way. The social world has been raging about the capital city’s hero. The crown prince used his hand to ensure the media couldn’t be too loud.”

“…What did he mean by doing that? Should I thank him?”

“Of course, there’s no need to thank the crown prince. Because of him, Aslan has come to see you as a person of interest. He wants to know if there is a secret agreement between prince one and three.”

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