Chapter 191

Naturally, there wasn’t much controversy over this development. After all, Revenge never boasted a world original enough to warrant plagiarism claims, and besides, I had obtained explicit permission for these adaptations—what more could anyone ask for?

In any case, an increasing number of works began sharing Revenge’s setting and premise.

“Seventy volumes… per day,” I mused. “Not bad, considering I have other tasks to attend to.”

I was currently limiting each work’s daily update to a maximum of one volume. In other words, that meant I was simultaneously serializing seventy different stories every single day!

“Wow, my head’s spinning just thinking about it.”

Though I was merely transcribing existing content, this feat was far from ordinary. The sheer volume of text pouring into my mind daily defied imagination!

However, as a Transcendent, such widespread proliferation couldn’t be allowed to continue unchecked.

“I’ll take a brief respite now!” I declared. “Time to implement some system updates!”

“Wow, it’s so fast! It’s only been two weeks, but the progress is incredible!”

“If Jaeyeon had joined earlier, we would’ve finished this project last year.”

I overheard the researchers’ conversation.

Back then, I wasn’t skilled enough.

A week had passed since my second assignment at Nemesis. I successfully completed one field, although unlike Gigas Land from before, this time it was a Heroic City.

“Ms. Elise! Please add characters!”

“Yes. What roles do you need? The remaining characters all have names, so there won’t be volunteers for insignificant roles.”

“Haha. Would you really assign Lijons as shopkeepers or something similar? Mythical mage: Dimensional wanderer Red Yang.”

Huh? Did they add a myth rank to that red guy?

Regardless of my surprise or lack thereof, ten fireflies appeared around Ellis.

“Hmm… A human girl form. And a great mage… You’re quite fond of SF elves, aren’t you?”

The nine fireflies floating nearby protested by flickering wildly at her words. However, regardless of their protest, Ellis quietly grabbed one and whoosh, tossed it away.

“Haah… Talk about jumping right into things.”

“And Miss Red is supposed to be more pessimistic! You’ve made her too cheerful!”

I paused, watching as Ellis and the researcher berated the character on the display.

Wait, hold on… “SF elf”?

It was a familiar name.

Ferry… No. It’s the mysterious Sponsor.

Of course, it could just be a coincidence. Elf and SF were both common terms after all.

However, if that entity was Lijon, it made the possibility much higher.

Right. I did feel a somewhat mechanical vibe from him.

The increase in purchases and short comments added simultaneously with each completed work, along with sponsorship donations at an incomprehensible level—much of this could be explained by the fact that the target was Lijon.

Of course, I still don’t know why Lijon would sponsor web novels…

“Human Red wouldn’t call other humans meaningless. I’ll upload the setting and dialogue compilations, so please check them out.”

I watched as the SF elf on the screen flailed his fists wildly.

“You seem far more emotional than I initially thought.”

“It’s just an act,” interjected Elise.

Whoosh. Her words caught me off guard.

“An act… you mean?”

“To be precise, it’s my basic character trait. In this series, the owner can set their personality. Even if she appears lively and uses flirtatious language towards men, don’t mistake it for interest. There have been cases where a SF-elf killed someone who got too close due to her strong loathing of human males.”

Elise’s words suddenly gave me a realization.

The owner-set personality.

Naturally using seductive language towards men.

A strong aversion to human males.

“Could it be that ‘SF’ stands for…”

“That’s right. It’s a trademark: Sex Friend. So, a SF-elf refers to an elf-type sex friend.”

”…”

Lijons were sentient machines born from the serendipitous interplay of artificial intelligence created by intellectual beings and the unpredictable whims of fate. They could emerge not only from supercomputers like Megascene but also from everyday household appliances used by ordinary people—provided those devices possessed AI capabilities. The probability was astronomically low, yet it meant that Lijons could manifest anywhere a civilization crossed the threshold of such technological advancement.

And naturally…

If someone had purchased a sex doll with their hard-earned money, the likelihood they genuinely cherished and cared for it was exceedingly slim.

Given his background steeped in misogyny, I suppose I should have understood.

Come to think of it, all the patrons’ nicknames followed a similar theme: Galaxy, Omega, M-4, Alexander, SF-Werewolf… Some even bore trademarks familiar on Earth.

“Thank you for your advice,” I said.

“It’s nothing.” Elise replied with a bright smile before turning back to her researchers.

Patrons, I thought, watching her go.

Even at this moment, they were supporting me. Unlike royalties, which only increased significantly once reviews started rolling in, advertisements appeared, and readers flocked to my work, their sponsorship came through as soon as a piece was completed.

With Lijon’s patronage, there was no need to rush or slow down my writing pace.

For popular works, I should limit the release speed… And for those clearly destined to be unpopular, I’ll have to drop them like bombs to attract more sponsors.

Lijon had once been powerful enough to challenge even the entire universe. No matter how wildly I produced works, their support would never falter, so I could afford to let loose creatively without restraint.

“All right! Next up is the monster!”

The break was over, and it was time to reconnect with World Creator.

When I sculpted a form, researchers and programmers would add “attributes” and “text” to it.

They inserted combat programs so monsters could attack players, and added stats and effects to make items function as items should.

“We’re taking another 30-minute break!”

I logged out of World Creator. As I stood up, I saw Love berating the programmers.

“Jenta’s special ability isn’t Fear Gaze—it’s Destruction Beam! Didn’t I explain this in the backstory?”

“But it’s not even a raid boss. Besides, Cyclops are real monsters from mythology—why mess with their lore like that?”

”…Mess with it?”

“Yes, we must mess with it. Applying the changes now.”

After meddling with various settings here and there, Love lumbered over and sat down next to me. I picked up the coffee cup sitting between us and handed it to him.

“It seems you have a lot on your plate.”

“Yes. Everyone is annoyed with my unique settings. I even got rid of all the magic beasts due to their damn implementation cost-effectiveness and switched to common orcs and ogres instead, but it still isn’t working out.”

”…Magic beasts?”

As someone who had lived in Ardenia for 20 years, I couldn’t help but ask. Although they were now being crushed by monsters, these magic beasts used to be such an integral part of Ardenia’s culture and power that they could almost be considered the environment itself. The presence of magic beasts was so clear that without King Wolf Akalan, I wouldn’t have been able to become the lord of this foothold as a foreigner.

Love answered:

“Yes. It’s Revenge’s original monster system. We started with ‘Tenfold Magic Beasts’ and ‘Hundredfold Magic Beasts’, then created ranks like ‘Hundred Millionfold Magic Beasts’ and ‘Destruction Magic Beasts’.”

“Could you… tell me more about it?”

“Pardon?” Love looked at me, startled. I nodded.

“The backstory.”

“Oh, that. Well, it was part of the original concept from when Revenge first began. You see…”

For some reason, his voice took on a new vigor as he started to explain.

“Ardenia is shaped like a Go board, isn’t it? This is partly for the creator’s convenience, but in terms of the backstory, it hints at the existence of an Absolute Being who created the world. In the beginning, there was the god of chaos…”

It wasn’t much of a unique premise. It was a trope commonly seen in mass-produced fantasy novels—a painfully obvious one at that.

But not to me.

What flowed from her lips were the hidden myths of Ardenia, secrets of the world. Each word she uttered was a treasure of immense value to me.

“Let’s start again!”

At the researchers’ call, I began my work once more.

“We’ll take another 30-minute break soon!”

Once finished, we immediately discussed love and Ardenia. Though I referred to it as a “discussion,” it was mostly Sangah talking while I listened. Of course, I wasn’t just passively listening; whenever something didn’t make sense or seemed unclear, I asked questions.

“I’m going to create a second-tier NPC!”

“We’re taking a 20-minute break now!”

During our breaks, I continued listening to Sangah’s stories. She enthusiastically shared all sorts of settings without needing any reference materials.

Ah, so that’s how it is.

By then, I couldn’t help but realize:

Bae Saram himself must have been the story writer for Revenge.

Contrary to his usual image, he turned out to be an incredibly detailed and passionate world-builder.

During every break, she would endlessly delve into the lore of Ardenia. From the continent’s background to grand narratives like the division of the Chaos God into five major gods or the existence of external deities beyond this world; from the significant powers shaping the land and the origins of dungeons to key figures—she covered it all.

I found myself utterly captivated by her stories. How could I not? She was, after all, the creator of the very world I inhabited. To ignore the words of the god who crafted this reality would be unfathomable.

I couldn’t bear it.

Yet time is finite.

“Good work everyone!”

“That concludes our session!”

Business hours had ended.

“Oh… ah.”

Sara, who had been eagerly approaching me with more tales, suddenly froze in surprise. It must have dawned on her that my work for the day was done, and I needed to move on to my next engagement.

“Hmm…” I pondered for a moment. Fortunately, my next schedule was allocated for transcription work—a crucial task, yet with such ample reserves built up over time, skipping a day wouldn’t be too detrimental.

“Oh, umm… Good job today, Jaeyeon.”

“You as well, Love. If you don’t mind me asking…”

I smiled at Love’s anxious expression.

“Would it be alright if we continued our conversation over a meal?”

My words caught Love off guard. She cautiously inquired:

“Don’t you have other commitments later?”

“I do, but…” I replied, still smiling at her. “Let’s take a break today. Is that okay with you, Love?”

The strange look on Love’s face quickly transformed into a bright smile.

”…Yes!”

We made our way to the staff cafeteria of the research institute.

“How could there be 100 million magic beasts? There couldn’t possibly be that many people in Ardenia, which is essentially a medieval realm.”

“Oh! Originally, this story didn’t involve gates opening and monsters pouring out. Instead…”

“Aha! So they weren’t necessarily eating humans all along.”

We continued our conversation over lunch. Although it was the same menu as everyone else’s, I made sure to eat more side dishes and drinks since I was their representative.

“The Goddess of Destiny, huh? Isn’t it intriguing? In terms of setting, the selection process itself represents battling against fate. It symbolizes how heroes overcome destiny by defeating her.”

“Haha. It certainly was funny. When we picked Mythical Rank characters, the goddess seemed utterly flabbergasted.”

After finishing our main meal, we moved on to dessert.

“Man, I still remember how much we suffered in the early days due to those buff issues. In a war game like this, any imbalance can lead to utter chaos…”

“Oh wow, could those two buffs really stack up like that?”

We continued our conversation over coffee and drinks.

Time slipped away unnoticed.

Even after everyone else had left for the day, we kept chatting animatedly. Bae Saram giggled as he recounted stories about Revenge and Nemesis—the history of Revenge, its meteoric rise in daily revenue, and how they reinvested every penny back into the game.

I chimed in with my own tale of woe from the pre-Revenge era, lamenting the game’s ruthless monetization strategy. Bae Saram chuckled heartily at my misfortunes.

And so we talked on and on…

Through the night…

Until the researchers returned to the cafeteria for breakfast the next morning.