"Why is senior so nice to me?"
The boy's face, which still couldn't completely hide his fluster, twisted slightly. Nevertheless, it couldn't hide his attractiveness.
"Why are you doing this?"
The immature voice trembled and cracked. As expected, it was a pleasant voice. It seemed attractive people also had attractive voices.
Mingyu, visibly frustrated by my silence, vigorously wiped his eyes. I couldn't bear it and grabbed his wrist.
"Stop it. You'll hurt yourself."
The flawless tan skin with no blemishes under the eyes was already showing signs of turning red.
Then, as if Mingyu had been hurt by my words, tears welled up in his eyes.
"Why is senior like this? Doing this will only cause misunderstandings..."
The water filled in Mingyu's large puppy-like eyes soon slid down his cheeks.
His golden-brown pupils with moisture in them were gazing at me, while his lips were slightly quivering.
"What the hell am I to you?"
Mingyu was my favorite.
My secret was too big to confess.
A series of transparent windows overlapped his handsome face.
[ Mission: Make Mingyu happy. ]
[ Time Remaining: ... ]
[ Penalty: Death ]
A number indicating how much time I had left to live was steadily decreasing.
Wonwoo, originally 29 years old. Now, 19. According to the saying, age was fake and the heart was real, but somehow I found myself neither real nor fake.
With no advantage to regressing, I had approximately one year left to live.
I was destined to die if I couldn't make my favorite happy.
* * *
"Wonwoo, do you play games often?"
The beginning of an event was always trivial. In retrospect, that seemed to be the case.
"Not often, just occasionally. Why?"
"I'm thinking of turning the novel I've been working on into a game."
Senior said casually. I nodded as I emptied the cup he had filled for me. Well, novels were often turned into movies and games. Plus, senior's novel was interesting.
"So, I'm curious,Wonwoo. What's the difference between games and novels?"
The question was sudden, but senior had always been a strange person. He would throw out random thoughts and contemplate them for a while.
I thought to myself that maybe all writers were like that. Artists were strange by nature. Senior had been anything but ordinary from the moment we first met.
"Well."
As usual, I earnestly pondered the question.
"If the goal of games is to clear them, novels focus more on the flow leading up to the ending. Unlike games where players can make changes, novels have a predetermined narrative and there's not much room for a reader's intervention. It might be different if it's a serialized novel."
"Like my novel?"
"Senior never changes the plot even when I give you my feedback."
I grumbled, but senior just smiled as if he had found it amusing.
