I Became an Artist in a Romantic Comedy

Taking a deep breath, I stretched my neck. A cracking sound echoed from within my body.

"Feels satisfying, but there's something oddly unsettling about it."

I still didn’t know where that sound was coming from.

Leaning away from the tree I’d been resting against, I started walking. Time was up, and I didn’t want to delay any further.

If it wasn’t going to come to me, I’d just have to go to it.

The gray mountain range looked like it was suffering from severe bald patches, with sparse trees scattered around. This made the terrain easy to navigate at a glance.

Each step sent ashen soil scattering into the air.

This was undeniably a place that left me feeling uneasy.

Why did I even create a world like this? What was I thinking?

It was dizzying, but the eerie calm of this place could make anyone forget they were alive.

Was this the realm of the living or the dead?

Even Cerberus, the hound of hell, wouldn’t enjoy being here.

"Then again, this is technically my fault."

Scratching my head awkwardly, I looked around.

The mountains were barren and empty, not even a single leaf to be seen. The sight was desolate.

It was unsettling to even look at, but I had no choice but to keep moving forward.

This illusory world had no particular landmarks, nothing extraordinary about it.

However, there was one place that the dog particularly liked.

"Aha, I knew you’d be here, you mutt."

A beast with three heads. Some might call it grotesque, others might think it looked cool.

To me? It was nothing more than an oversized, adorable dog.

"Woof! Woof!"

The middle head noticed me first, and soon the other two heads followed suit, barking in unison.

If this were my first encounter, the sheer volume of those barks might’ve scared me. But who am I?

"Long time no see, you rascal!"

I ran toward the massive dog, easily three times my size, and threw my arms around it.

Feeling its fur again after so long, I eagerly petted it.

This texture—how could anyone forget it? Once you get hooked, there’s no going back.