If I were ever to become a character in a story, I wouldn't be the main character. I'd just be one of those background figures—existing only to fill the world, like an NPC in a video game.
Well… that makes sense.
The protagonist is usually handsome, complex, and intelligent, with a tragic past. Most of the time, he's emotionally broken, constantly surrounded by sadness… which somehow makes girls fall for him.
…Heh. Beautiful girls.
Yeah, I seriously doubt that a virgin, single guy in his mid-twenties—living in a filthy apartment and working as a security guard in a residential building like me—would ever be the protagonist of anything.
More likely, I'd be one of those characters who die during some random event… mentioned in plural, because none of them actually matter.
Like when the hero goes to a city and a massacre happens—people dying just to add tension to the story…
Yeah. I'd be one of them.
Damn it.
I'm introverted. Alone. I spend most of my time watching anime, reading manga, and web novels. Strangely enough, people like that are often the protagonists.
Usually, they get sent to another world after some kind of accident… reincarnated, given a new life, free from regret, fixing all their past mistakes.
Heh… let's just say I haven't completely given up on that.
My life is miserable enough to wait for a miracle like that.
[You have been selected as one of the Survivors]
"…What?!"
Well, I did just say I was desperate enough.
Maybe I've finally started hallucinating.
…Or maybe not.
I closed my eyes, then opened them again.
The familiar blue system screen… didn't disappear.
My heartbeat began to accelerate. Adrenaline rushed through my body, making my hands tremble slightly.
Time itself felt… slower.
One of the survivors… what does that even mean? Is this real?
I blinked repeatedly, even rubbed my eyes—but nothing changed.
It felt unreal. Like a dream I couldn't wake up from.
Did I just become the protagonist of my own story?
This is insane…!
Finally, I'll escape this pathetic, repetitive life and become someone amazing—like those heroes you see all over social media.
This is it…
I'm the protagonist.
[No. You are not the protagonist.]
…Damn system.
Isn't the system supposed to help the protagonist grow stronger? Give him abilities at the perfect time?
Then why does mine feel like pure bad luck?
If I'm not the protagonist… then what am I?
It said I was selected as a Survivor.
A survivor of what?
[Survivors are the inhabitants of this new world. You have been selected as one of them.]
…A new world?
What is this—some kind of catastrophe?
Damn it. I hate these kinds of stories.
…Well, whatever. I should check the main interface.
Heh… it's almost instinctive for someone like me—who spends all his time reading web novels and manhwa.
[Name: Nolan
characteristic: The Author
Type: The Author
Class: ...
Ability: Fate Sight]
…Amazing.
My name—Nolan—didn't change. Ugh… I hate that name.
But my characteristic …
"The Author."
That sounds incredible.
Nolan the Author.
…Yeah. That actually sounds really cool.
My type is the same as my characteristic. From what I know, "type" usually defines what kind of character you are—main character, side character…
I'm… the Author.
Wait.
…I'm the Author?
I stared at those words for a moment, confused—until it finally clicked.
Wait a second…
If I'm the Author…
Does that mean I write the story?
Control the events?
That's even better than being the protagonist!
I control everything.
Heh… hehehe…
For a brief moment, dark thoughts crept into my mind—testing the limits of what an "Author" could do.
All those beautiful female characters…
Their fates would be in my hands.
…Looks like I won't stay a virgin for long.
Heh.
…Alright, I got carried away.
Let's focus.
The Class is empty… but why?
What does it even represent?
No matter how much I think about it, I won't get an answer right now.
Better ignore it for now.
Finally—
Ability: Fate Sight.
That sounds powerful.
Curious, I read the description.
[Fate Sight: Allows the user to perceive the fate of any character who possesses a Class.]
…Okay.
I'm not even sure if that's useful.
I don't even know who has a class.
[Everyone.]
…Everyone?
Then why don't I have one?
Wait…
Of course.
I'm not just "any character."
…I'm the Author.
Heh.
Suddenly, a strange feeling rose inside me—
From the lowest depths of misery…
To the peak of absolute arrogance.
So…
What happens now?
[The story will begin.]
At that exact moment—
The TV suddenly turned on by itself, switching to a national channel.
I instinctively turned toward the sound.
"…Dear citizens, the state is declaring a full emergency. An unknown outbreak has spread across the country. Within minutes, people have transformed into mindless, bloodthirsty creatures. All survivors are advised to evacuate to rural areas, far from infected zones—"
The broadcast cut off abruptly.
Static noise filled the room.
My chest tightened.
In just minutes…
Everything collapsed.
Zombies.
People turned into zombies without any warning.
…Is this what the system meant?
Does that mean those who weren't chosen…
became them?
[Yes.]
Damn you… you only answer when you feel like it.
Alright…
First, I need to find a way to escape.
Then figure out what the hell is going on.
And then—
I heard it.
A sound.
From outside my apartment.
A slow…
scraping noise.
Like claws dragging across the wall.
Scratch…
Scratch…
It was getting closer.
Closer…
Each second stretched endlessly as the sound crawled toward my door.
My breath grew heavier.
My body froze.
And then—
The door creaked open.
It stepped inside.
Blood.
That was the first thing I noticed.
Its entire body was soaked in it.
Dark, thick blood clung to its skin… dripping slowly onto the floor.
Its fingers—
No…
Its claws—
Were unnaturally long, stained red.
Its mouth hung open, revealing rows of jagged teeth, grinding against each other with a sickening sound.
It looked like it could tear flesh apart… crush bone… with ease.
And then—
I recognized it.
"…Noah…"
My elderly neighbor.
A kind man.
He lived with his daughters in a nearby apartment.
Unlike the others—who looked down on me for being a weird security guard—
He treated me kindly.
But now…
His face was twisted.
Covered in blood.
Something in his expression…
told me everything.
He had killed someone.
…Maybe his daughters.
A bitter feeling twisted inside my chest.
What kind of cruel fate turns someone like him into this?
It moved.
Slowly.
Dragging its feet.
Its mouth releasing low, distorted growls.
Getting closer.
Closer…
I stepped back instinctively.
My mind raced—but found nothing.
No plan.
No idea.
Nothing.
Just noise.
Chaos.
Fear.
Damn it…
Where's the protagonist's intelligence in moments like this?!
[I told you. You are not the protagonist.]
[But you won't die here.]
[You will compete… for the title of Narrator.]
"…Heh…"
So I do have some protagonist luck after all.