The world is a breeding ground for bullshit disguised as profound wisdom.
If anyone were to ask me to pick the absolute worst offender from the overflowing sea of nonsense, I wouldn't hesitate for a second to point at this one:
“Effort is always rewarded.”
I could personally prove just how pathologically insane that statement is. Truly. In fact, that exact lie is the reason I am currently sitting here, subjected to the most absurd reprimand of my entire life. Because I worked myself to the bone, and I succeeded.
Reward of effort, my ass.
Right up until I fell asleep, I was a hero. The warrior who vanquished the Silver Dragon that threatened the kingdom. The savior who, after three years of unyielding, blood-sweating effort, finally severed the neck of that gargantuan monstrosity. The citizens cheered, the king personally raised a toast, and everyone roared my name during a festival that raged on for three whole days.
But now?
“What is your name?”
The moment I opened my eyes in this bleak, vacant room surrounded by grey walls on all sides, a flamboyantly handsome man was looking down at his nose at me, asking that very question.
I didn't bother answering. I just stared back at him.
He was strikingly, almost aggressively beautiful. A man whose attire, accessories, and overall adornments were just as extravagant as his features. It was blindingly obvious that he was a pampered young master, gently raised within palace walls since birth. Yet, the profound fatigue tracing the lines of his near-perfectly sculpted face caught my attention in a peculiar way. Looking as if he carried the entire world's exhaustion and resignation solely on his shoulders, the man endlessly repeated the same question like a broken machine.
“Are you listening? I am asking for your name.”
“……My name?”
Just as I was about to answer, wondering why he was asking something so blatantly obvious, I sharply caught my breath.
Wait. What did the villagers use to call me?
I couldn't remember my name. That basic thing, given naturally to absolutely anyone, completely eluded my memory.
Did I… live my entire life without a name?
Like an idiot, my mouth parted slightly before I quickly snapped it shut, cautiously reading his expression. The man raised a single eyebrow, clearly displeased by my reaction. Even that arrogant, demanding gesture was so breathtakingly elegant it was frustrating. Feeling inexplicably guilty under his gaze, I stared at the overly dazzling man and managed to squeeze out an answer.
“My name is…”
“Yes.”
“Back at the castle, they used to call me… Hero-nim?”
Even to my own ears, I sounded utterly foolish.
Sure enough, the man's eyes sank into a cold chill as he stared at me. His gaze held a mixture of pathetic pity and sheer exasperation.
“I am asking for your name. Not your title.”
“Uh…… it’s not that I’m withholding it on purpose, but I think I genuinely don’t… have one?”
Only then did it click. I really, truly did not possess a name. I had just realized that in my entire life, I had never once been addressed by a proper name. At the same time, I couldn't even remember how many years that "entire life" actually amounted to.
I don't know my own age, or my name? Why……?
A shiver ran down my spine.
Noticing my panic, the man's expression softened fractionally as he smoothly struck the empty air. From where his hand brushed, a table and chairs—transparent and solid as ice—manifested out of nothing.
“I am Perenustus, the creator and overseer of this world.”
Without giving me a moment to process the sudden appearance of the furniture, the man introduced himself, tossing in a thoroughly annoyed sigh for good measure.
“And thanks to you, I've been saddled with the role of Chairman for the Causality Error Emergency Committee. So, rather than my name, please address me as Chairman. Preferably with a heavy dose of guilt.”
I muttered his name—which was just as archaic and extravagant as his appearance—under my breath a few times before tilting my head.
“Why is that because of me…?”
“Because your very existence is a massive error. A glitch that disrupted the natural order of the world I designed.”
The response came without a shred of hesitation. I lowered my eyes, genuinely feeling like a criminal. I couldn't even explain why I felt this way. Perhaps… it was because the look Perenustus gave me was so complex. It was the look of someone staring at a frustrating puzzle with no clear solution. It wasn't entirely filled with contempt, which somehow made it worse.
“Now. Since I’ve explained, shall we ask one final time? What is your name?”
“No, I’m telling you, I really don't think I have—”
The moment I faltered, the severed head of the Silver Dragon materialized in the air right above the center of the table, letting out a piercing shriek. Silver blood poured from its mutilated neck, melting and horribly searing the pristine surface of the table.
“I’ll curse you! Grant me permission to curse them right now!”
Faced with a reality that grew more unbelievable by the second, I instinctively scrambled backward, my mind barely catching up.
“What…?! I-I definitely killed the Silver Dragon……!”
“Wow, holy hell, this crazy bastard really has a knack for turning my stomach!”
The severed head lunged forward, nearly brushing against the tip of my pointing finger as it roared.
“Yeah! You killed me, which is exactly why I’m in this state! They're saying because you're a massive bug, my original form can't even be restored!”
Every time the Silver Dragon thrashed and bellowed, silver fluid splattered in all directions from its severed neck. I couldn't comprehend the situation at all. All I could do was turn a bewildered face toward Perenustus.
“Am I dreaming right now? I distinctly cut this dragon's head off. Why on earth is a dead dragon……”
“Look at them. Do they seriously not even know they're dead and standing here because of it?” The Silver Dragon scoffed, eyeing my half-dazed expression.
Staring back and forth between the placid Perenustus and the fiercely scoffing dragon, the weight of the beast's words finally registered.
“I’m… dead?”
“Their face looks incredibly stupid right now. Hey, bug! Stop spacing out and look at me! You snuck up on me! I was a Silver Dragon locked in a deep slumber, and you ambushed me and cut my head off—that's why we're in this mess!”
“…Okay, I've listened long enough, and this is ridiculous. If I hadn't killed you, my entire village would have been slaughtered. It was written plain as day in the legends, so was I just supposed to sit back and watch?”
“Obviously. Your village was literally created to be massacred according to the legend.”
The Silver Dragon scoffed repeatedly. I could only part my lips dumbly, entirely at a loss for how to process the reality crashing down on me.
“Haa……”
Perenustus let out a heavy sigh, a gesture that seemed entirely habitual. Whether it was out of pity or simply a desperate urge to wrap up a tiresome situation, he kept his unreadable gaze fixed on me before continuing his explanation in a weary voice.
“As you just admitted yourself, you are a being who wasn't even granted a name. You were an existence below the tier of an extra—a mere passing background asset.”
He paused for a moment, observing me intently.
“Because such an existence severed the Silver Dragon's neck and became a hero, a critical issue has ruptured the entire worldview. The village you lived in was a place destined for total destruction based on the Law of Total Comedy-Tragedy Mass.”
Every single word spilling from Perenustus's mouth sounded completely foreign. Worldview? Law of Total Comedy-Tragedy Mass? What kind of nonsense was that?
“Do you understand now? Because you pointlessly protected a sector that was supposed to be thoroughly demolished, a severe error has occurred in the macro-worldview. This tribunal is here to hold you accountable for that crime.”
“Excuse me. I feel incredibly wronged right now. From what you're saying, it sounds like my crime was working my butt off to save a village that was 'supposed' to destroy itself.”
“Precisely.”
“That's exactly why it's unfair! Everyone is the protagonist of their own life, and the value of that life comes from giving it your absolute all! Why does someone like you get to arbitrarily decide and judge that?”
Perenustus's eyebrow twitched minutely.
“Do you… actually comprehend the words coming out of your mouth right now?”
“Yes. It was written in a book.”
“What book.”
“The book left behind by the heroes who came to the village to slay the dragon……”
The light in Perenustus's eyes turned lethal. It was terrifying enough to make me shrink my shoulders and mumble my answer—me, who hadn't even flinched while hacking off a dragon's head. He scanned me with eyes that weren't just cold, but utterly frozen, before tilting his head slightly.
“Do you honestly believe that an nameless background asset, lower than an extra, would be granted the intellectual capacity to read a book, comprehend it, and exert effort?”
“…….”
“The only thing permitted to you was 'existence.' Every single action beyond that is an error.”
“What a joke…. So you're saying I should have just stood there while the Silver Dragon pulverized my village?”
“Yes,” Perenustus replied, entirely absolute. “Only then would the true hero appear, kicking off the grand epic to open a new era.”
Having delivered his uncompromising answer, he locked his eyes directly onto mine.
“Do you admit to killing the Silver Dragon?”
“…Yes.”
“Silphy, you heard them, right?”
I cringed internally as I watched Perenustus gesture toward the dragon.
Silphy? A cute nickname like Silphy for a monstrous beast like that? Is he serious?
I couldn't believe my ears. The sheer cognitive dissonance between a gruesome, severed dragon head dripping silver blood and a darling name like 'Silphy' was staggering.
“Curse them, Silphy.”
While I was busy clicking my tongue at the absurdity of the name, I missed my window to protest the unfair punishment.
“Ah, wait a minute! I said this is unfair!”
“As if a mere error like you deserves a chance to plead your case.”
The moment the Silver Dragon's tone shifted, my body locked up completely. I couldn't breathe. The very air around me seemed to solidify into massive ropes, strangling my throat.
“A useless glitch insisting they are a protagonist… quite a sight to behold. It was entertaining.”
The Silver Dragon's voice boomed with terrifying majesty.
“Since a mere bug dares to claim such status, I shall treat you as the protagonist of a world and bestow a curse entirely befitting of one. Recieve it gracefully.”
“Ugh…!”
“I desire that the arrogant hero who struck my neck be reincarnated into a world where absolutely nothing goes according to their will. May you endlessly live a petty, mundane, and maddeningly frustrating life.”
The curse spilling from the severed dragon's jaws struck me before I could even think to dodge. Shards of language imbued with clusters of glittering stars swirled through the air before violently boring into the nape of my neck. The luminous words tore and burned beneath my skin like a galaxy made of pure ice.
I clamped my jaws together, desperate to hold onto consciousness. Through the agony, the sound of my teeth grinding and the strangled groans escaping my lips echoed in my ears.
Even as I thrashed on the floor like a worm, I reached my hand out toward Perenustus. Though I knew he wouldn't help me, and though I knew he was the mastermind behind this unacceptable punishment, I felt an inexplicable urge to grab him.
Watching me writhe under the weight of the curse, Perenustus hesitated with a conflicted expression before finally grasping my hand.
...Is he throwing me a bone after breaking my legs, or what?
Despite the bitter thought, I desperately clung to the large hand afforded to me. Through our touching skin, his emotions bled heavily into me—exhaustion, exasperation, pity, and a faint trace of apology.
Yet, he clearly had no intention of reversing the verdict.
“Now that you have received your sentence, it is time to pay the debt with your body.”
What kind of garbage logic was that?
The pain was too intense for me to even articulate words. Shrouding the swirling emotions in his eyes with an icy layer of fatigue, he spoke in a voice far colder than before.
“Let us send you off. A single firsthand experience will be far more convincing than a hundred words.”
The moment a sharp snap echoed from his long fingertips, everything in my surroundings blurred into a hazy smear. Reality dissolved away like wet paint, and in the blink of an eye, a completely different space materialized around me.
How does this style feel for the opening of the story? I wanted to capture the snappy, cynical humor of the original text while giving the fantasy elements a cinematic weight. What kind of vibe are you aiming for with the rest of this novel?
