# The Great Storyteller - &#51076;&#54620;&#48177; - Ongoing 1 To 200

Great Storyteller The

# The Great Storyteller. The Great Storyteller - 임한백 - Ongoing 1 To 200

The Great Storyteller

The Great Storyteller - 임한백 - Ongoing 1 To 200

Origin: http://samlib.ru/c/chernij_a_w/thegreatstoryteller-510765462048177-ongoing1to200.shtml

Создан: 17/02/2020, изменен: 17/02/2020, 3022k

Стихотворение: Foreign+Translat

Series: @Other

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## The Great Storyteller

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Description The Great Storyteller

Yum Woo is the youngest author in history to enter the literature world. His debut work was a massive hit but this success was short lived for the unprepared.

A miraculous second chance comes his way one day.

This is the beginning of that journey.

You are reading

The Great Storyteller

ebook which is a free download at

wWw.EbookUpdates.Net

.

Download more ebooks for free at

Ebook Updates(dot)Net

.

1 Chapter 1- Flowing river

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

"How should I make a living?"

Just like any student would, Juho was worried about his path. Middle school was a stormy time in life. Grades were not a priority for him. At the same time, he had no desire to do anything with life. He was an average student without dreams or hopes, yet he still wanted to make a living somehow.

"How do I make a living?"

'Will I be able to take care of myself in the future if I become an adult, the father of a child, and then an old man?'

Juho thought there was no hope for him. If the future and the past began with the present, the answer was already clear. Losing sleep over his fear of the future only proved that answer.

The top-ranked student in his class had gotten the highest score in his class' exam yet again. A rebel with his tight uniform, he secretly worked a part-time job. Everybody was doing something, and they all looked cool.

Juho prayed every night before bed for the sun not to rise. After waking up, he would think about when the damn planet was going to end. Knowing that life would be a repetition of ambiguous days, he couldn't help but sigh.

Then, it appeared that he would escape from such monotonous daily life.

"Juho, this is huge!"

It was a precious weekend morning, and Juho had just answered the phone that had been ringing noisily. A man was on the other end of the call.

"What are you talking about?"

"Your books are selling like crazy! Your life is set now!"

"What?"

"Your award-winning novel is a hit! I knew it!"

Birds were chirping outside, and Juho's dirty scalp was itching like no other. Yet, the man on the phone was talking about the novel being a huge success.

'What in the world is going on?' Thought Juho.

"Hold on! The printing factory is calling. We'll talk again soon!"

'Beep.'

Even after the call, Juho slowly laid back on his bed with the phone in his hand.

"Must be a stupid dream."

When we woke up, Juho found out that it had all been real.

He was an average Korean student, an average student who hated school, but still wanted to have money. He was a foolish student who would rather enjoy the present and procrastinate on things that he needed to do, at least until a few months back.

He realized that what he thought had been a dream was actually real and, after some time, he went to school.

The manuscript submission for the contest in July had been made into a book, and it was lying right in front of his eyes. Better yet, the book was selling like there was no tomorrow.

As Juho walked into a large bookstore, he noticed his book before many others. It wasn't because of his special affection towards his book, but because the copies were being displayed in the most noticeable spot, the bestseller corner.

Since he was young, Juho had a habit of reaching for his pen whenever something upset him. This habit eventually created a story that turned into a full-length novel.

Juho submitted his story to the contest without much thought. It wasn't because he aspired to be a novelist. He wasn't romantic enough to choose a career that didn't pay. He had done it on impulse and, perhaps, fear.

The book was basically Juho venting his anger. One could say that it captured the story of a youth despairing his aimlessness - not well off like a protagonist in a movie or a soap opera, not smart, not necessarily ugly, but not handsome enough to hold a candle to celebrities.

"I was exhilarated when I heard from the publishing company."

For a while, Juho celebrated way too soon, but he quickly snapped out of it. The publisher was skeptical of whether the story would sell. Only a twisted or small number of sadistic perverts would get a kick out of another person venting his anger.

So, Juho decided to find a different path with the $50,000 he had gotten for the manuscript. He decided to find something that made it easier for him to make money.

'But how can this be?' Thought Juho.

The book was to be made into a TV show, a movie, and to be translated into seven different languages.

It was selling at an incredible rate, which meant that Juho was making an incredible amount of money.

'You really never know what's going to happen in life.' thought Juho.

Who would have thought a story written by an average-joe teenager would be so popular?

Juho saw people lined up at the counter to buy his book. It was an incredibly endearing sight. Life was good.

'Buzz.'

The phone was ringing in Juho's pocket.

"Hello."

"Hey, Juho. I'm calling because of an interview."

It was the editor. He was also the person who had been shouting over the phone in excitement about the success.

"Again?"

Ever since he became known, Juho was being pestered by reporters almost as much as a celebrity. He felt like a star at first, but nonetheless, it was overwhelming to deal with tens of reporters in a single day

"The Youngest Debutant in Literature is a popular title in many aspects. What do you want to do? We can turn them down if you're worn out. I understand that there's been a lot of interviews as of late."

There was concern in his voice, and Juho took a moment and asked,

"What should I do?"

"I'm not sure. It's good to seize the opportunity at hand, but it's also good to back out when you can."

"That's not very helpful."

"All I'm saying is that you can never predict what follows after a choice. It's up to you."

That was true. Who would have known that his impulse would bring him such fortune? No one would ever know other than an omnipotent god who might or might not exist somewhere.

After some consideration, Juho made up his mind after seeing people walking past him unable to recognize who he was.

'If I make myself known and become a celebrity author, I'd be able to make more money. It's not like I'm selling another person's book. I just have to suck it up even if it's hard.' thought Juho.

He saw the pile of books in front of him and the people who are buying them and was overwhelmed by a strong emotion.

"I'll do it."

"Is that all right? Are you going to be OK?"

"Yes," Juho reassured the editor as he questioned him repeatedly and walked out of the bookstore with confidence even though he fell several times looking back.

---

Time passed, and Juho was now forty-seven, forty-six by the Western calendar. After thirty years, Juho still wasn't able to stand straight. Swinging the soju bottle in his hand, he leaned onto the handrail. On the other side of the rail was a flowing river.

"Good times," Juho said, bringing the bottle to his mouth. He hiccupped involuntarily and looked miserable wrapped in layers of clothes covered in holes.

"These people. They don't read. They read everything else but my book."

As the pitch black night sky, Juho's heart was dark. He shouldn't have agreed to that silly interview. He was seventeen then, sixteen by the Western calendar. It was a precious age. At that age, one became teary-eyed just from looking at a flying leaf, damn it.

Juho had done many interviews. More than he could count. There were so many people who wanted to talk to him that he would have to set aside half of his day to do it. It was exhausting, and he hated it. Still, he was used to doing things he didn't want to, so he kept going.

There were some benefits. People started recognizing him in the street. Broadcast stations would ask him to appear in their shows, and he became famous at his school. Juho loved the popularity, and the sense of respect was not half bad either. It felt like his talent was being appreciated.

"The problem was the next book."

Juho's next work was a test. After the book had reached its peak of popularity, people were divided into two opposing opinions. Rumors kept popping up every day. Some said that he was a genius while others said that he was a fake. As much as the crowd loved Juho's work, they had trouble trusting the young author.

Juho didn't pay much attention at the time. It did hurt his feelings, but he was able to remain confident. After all, he did write the book himself. He thought he would be able to prove to everyone with the following book. He thought it would be a piece of cake for a genius. He wasn't entirely happy with how the writing turned out, but that had also happened with the first book. The editor was against Juho's second book, but he didn't listen. Eventually, he rejected the editor's advice and released his work with another publisher.

Juho didn't realize what he had betrayed until he saw that his book was not being received the same way.

"Look, god. You know that I made a poor choice, don't you?"

The all-capable god was nowhere to be found, and gave Juho no answer. Feeling depressed, Juho stared into the flowing river. "I wish I could be born as a river in my next life. Flowing aimlessly, not bound by destination or starting point."

"I want to be the river."

Juho thought of the faces of novelists who took their own lives. He wouldn't tell who they were out of respect. Among those authors were an artist who couldn't overcome his desire for destruction and an exceptional novelist. Their books had no business in grieving the death of their masters, and they continued to sell, unlike Juho's.

After wasting his life away, Juho tried his hand in investing in stocks and starting a business. It was a failure. Then there was some distraction, and yet another failure. He tried writing again, but that also ended in failure. Now, Juho was a homeless man who had nothing to do except for replaying the glory of his past. He was neither a genius nor an author.

Juho reached out his hand toward the river. With the power of liquid courage, he pretended to a novelist, a novelist who lived like he would jump into the river any minute, a novelist who lived an eternity, a great storyteller. Regretting his greed for wealth and fame in the past, Juho threw himself into the river. There was a splash, and he floundered about in the water.

"Sir, it's dangerous there!"

"Ya, ya, don't you worry. I'm not going to die."

A young man who was crossing the bridge warned Juho of his risky behavior, and Juho waved his hand lazily at the man and replied, "I was close to finding some inspiration."

'This punk is a hindrance. Who's going to die anyway?' Thought Juho.

He straightened himself against the guardrail, trying to warm up his ice cold hands with his breath and took a pen and some paper out of his pocket.

He was going to write about his life as a failed genius who had hit rock bottom. It was a topic anybody would peek into at least once. Having lost his house, family and friends, the only things that stuck with him were his pen and paper.

"It's not going to end like this."

Juho grabbed the pen.

His hands were shaking from the alcohol in his body. Despite the cold, Juho started getting drowsy from the drink he had just had.

"Sigh…"

He closed his eyes for a moment. His face was already numb from being exposed to the cold, and his hands and feet were the same.

"Watch out!"

There was an urgent shout.

'Is it that young man again?'

Half asleep, Juho thought peacefully, half asleep. That moment, his body was already falling away from the rail. A scream, ice-cold wind, and the coolness in the scalp were telling him that he was falling.

'Is this the end?' Juho Thought.

He opened his eyes and saw the pitch-black sky. If it weren't for the stars, he would have thought that his eyes were still closed. Yes, this isn't so bad. It's not terrible to be a novelist like this. At least in the next life.

And then, he saw the ceiling.

"What?"

Juho sat up. He remembered falling into the river, but he was still alive.

'Why am I here?' he thought.

He was in a private room instead of a hospital. He should have been moved to the hospital if he was rescued.

"Am I dead?"

Juho pinched his cheek. It hurt.

"Does this mean I'm alive? Can I still feel pain even if I'm dead? I don't know anymore…"

While rubbing his cheek, Juho realized something.

"There's no facial hair. My skin feels tighter too."

He quickly checked his body. There was a callus on the middle joint of his right middle finger. Adult Juho didn't see any need to write, but his hand was still callused.

Juho got up to looked into the mirror on the wall. There was face facing him, not handsome enough to compare to celebrities, but not necessarily ugly. It was a young face. Then, Juho realized who the room belonged to. It was his own.

'Buzz.'

Startled, Juho looked at his desk. There was a cellphone. It was ringing. Clueless and confused, Juho responded to his only mission and answered the phone.

"He-hello?"

"Juho, this is huge!"

It was familiar, too familiar. It was the voice Juho had been longing to hear.

"Mr. Editor."

"Mr. Editor? Call me uncle, no, bro! Anyway, you hit it big! You're set now!"

"Are you talking about my novel?"

"Yes! Seriously! Insanely!"

Birds were chirping outside, and Juho's dirty scalp was itching like no other, yet he was back in the past. As if that weren't confusing enough, this was right after Juho heard about the success.

"Hold on! The printing factory is calling. We'll talk again soon!"

With excitement in his voice, the uncle, or the bro hung up the phone. For a moment, Juho stared into his warm cellphone. Then, he shouted,

"JACKPOT!"

Juho was back to the old days.

<"Flowing river"> The end.

You are reading

The Great Storyteller

ebook which is a free download at

wWw.EbookUpdates.Net

.

Download more ebooks for free at

EbookUpdates(dot)Net

.

2 Chapter 2 - Starting Again 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

"Juho, come eat!"

Several days had passed since Juho had returned to the past. He heard his mother's voice, a voice that he had become used to by now. From the living room, Juho was able to see his mother from behind, busy in the kitchen. He walked over to the kitchen and rested his head onto his mother's shoulder. That smell, it had been a while.

"You haven't been yourself lately. Did you do something wrong?"

"It's nothing like that."

"No? Then what is it? Tell me."

Hearing his mother offering to solve his problems, Juho had to hold his tears. He had become homeless after his failed attempt at business and some stock investment as a last hurrah. Filled with shame, he had to lie every time he visited his old, retired parents living in the countryside.

He covered himself with leaves at parks and slept at subway stations. He took all of his meals at a soup kitchen. Juho was unbearably afraid of a tomorrow. It had been no different from his middle school years, when he would stay up worrying about his future. The days were miserable and terrifying. Being close to fifty, Juho couldn't bear to think that he was even weaker than his middle school self. Even then, what made it scarier was that he couldn't find his way out.

"Mom."

"What?"

"Nothing."

At his mother's hand, who was in the habit of stroking his back, Juho calmed his heart and asked,

"Are you happy that my book is selling well?

"Of course! My son's successful."

"Just watch! It'll get made into a show and a movie. It'll be translated into seven different languages too."

"Did you have a dream? You shouldn't be celebrating so soon."

"Maybe."

Of course it hadn't been a dream. Juho had experienced a terrible failure in his life, and then he returned. He let out a smirk.

"You must be sleep-talking with your eyes open. Hurry up and come eat. Go get your dad."

"Sure, mom."

After the family gathered at the table to eat and talk, Juho went back to his room. After a brief time thinking, he decided to look up his book on the internet. [Best seller number one, Trace of a Bird, author Yun Woo.] Yun Woo was an alias. It was a spontaneously made up name, that took the name of the protagonist from the book and combined it with his actual last name.

Juho showed his work to his mother, and she responded.

"You wrote this?"

"Yes, that's me."

"You got 1st place?"

"Yes."

His mother's face slowly brightened up. This was the first and the last time Juho ever made his mother happy. He was an incredibly bad son.

"Goodness, I'm so proud of you my son. I was worried what you'd become when you're stuck in your room not doing anything, but you've been doing such an amazing thing."

Juho felt a slight relief from the endearing spank of his mother. At the same time, he felt a sense of respect for her. While he was homeless around her age, she had given birth to a child, raised him, and done all kinds of housework while working at a restaurant. She was an incredible person, his mother.

"What's the ruckus? Is there anything to eat?"

"Honey, look at this. Our son is a best-selling author."

"Salad, what?"

Wearing nothing but his long johns, Juho's father looked at the computer screen, asking Juho several times if the Yun Woo character was really him. Then, he let out an excited laughter.

"Let's have a party. A party!"

Exhilarated, Juho's mother headed straight into the kitchen. That day, laughter never left the table. Even as he was on a cloud nine, Juho wondered if he was dreaming. Then he thought to himself,

'If it is a dream, I might as well enjoy it.'

But morning came the next day and the following day. Then, it became clear to him that it was all real.

Juho and his parents were now younger. He moved his hand around and clenched his fists. There was nothing awkward or weird. His baffled-by-success self and despairing-from-repeated-failures self had somehow become one.

On the day before Juho came back to the past, he ate the kimchi stew that had been reheated three times. Excited for the weekend, he stayed up late on his computer. Juho's mom told him to go to bed early. He kept worrying while picturing what it would be like to move up to high school and reflected on the last thirty years. The future was going to be a series of failures.

In a hurry, Juho opened his notebook.

'I have to write this down before I forget.' He thought to himself.

He wrote down all the failures to come, including all the things he regretted, lost… anything he could remember. His hand started hurting. It felt silly to be writing so much with a computer in front of him, but there was already a pen in his hand. He wasn't in a state to be able to use the computer.

"Let's not repeat the mistakes from the past. Don't let this notebook become a book of prophecies." Juho wrote each and every letter with conviction. Then, he heard a whisper behind him.

"Honey, maybe our son really was a genius after all. He used to read backwards when he was young."

"Maybe we did a really good job with prenatal care."

"It's got to be that. I heard you can have a good looking baby if you keep the bathroom clean, so I worked my butt off."

"Don't forget about me going out every night to bring you meat."

"Look at him. It's like he can't even hear us because he's so focused."

'I can hear you mom.'

Juho smiled in secret. Coming to think of it, his parents were really adorable. When he glanced at them, they cleared their throats and laughed.

"Have some fruit."

His parents put down the plate next to the desk and closed the door on the way out to help Juho focus, and he turned his attention back to the notebook.

By the time he put down the pen stuck to his sweaty hand, the day was already halfway gone.

"Haha!"

It only took half of a day to write down thirty years worth of failures. It probably would have been much faster to use a keyboard. It had been such an empty life. Juho stared into the notebook that had been filled with his history.

"What do I do now?"

He asked the all-capable god who sent him back in time. "What was it that you wanted? What were you thinking when you gave me a second chance? What's his reason for leaving me in a situation like this without any explanation?"

Instead of an answer, Juho's hand ached. The pen had left a red mark. His hand was stuck in a writing position, and it was difficult to move it. The moment he tried, it shot with pain. There was a tingling sensation in his wrist. It was a familiar kind of pain. Anyhow, he just wanted to write.

"I'm leaving now."

"Watch out for the cars."

Juho was on his way to school. The high school was not far, and it was near a mountain, which meant steep hills. The neighborhood Juho lived in was made in a mountain area. The sides of the mountain went through the alleyways between the residential areas. The upside was that the air was crisper than the lower part of town.

Arriving at school, Juho went into his class. There was awkwardness in the air. It was the beginning of the semester, so it made sense. The majority of people were keeping themselves busy on their phone. Juho found his seat. It was next to the window, third row from the back.

He sat down and took out books to read at school.

Juho was wearing a uniform and taking a class at a school. It was both welcoming and boring. The cold desk smelled like dust.

"What are you reading?"

The guy sitting right in front of him asked. His name tag read Seo Kwang Kim, and Juho handed him the book in his hand and said,

"It's a classic."

Seo Kwang saw the title and nodded. There weren't that many high school students who enjoyed reading. It seemed like Seo Kwang took the initiative to talk to Juho at first, but the way Seo Kwang was looking at the book was unusual. Affection? Love? He looked like a dog lover staring at a Welsh Corgi's butt. He seemed like he would run up and pat on its chubby butt and he was actually stroking the cover of the book.

"Ahh, this was a good book. A mysterious girl crosses path with a genius musician. Their relationship makes you realize how fragile love is between a man and a woman. It's heart-aching. I can't help but give the author a tip of the hat for his beautiful prose. As I was reading, I was wishing for my other half to be out there somewhere. A harmony of romance and longing."

Seo Kwang made a long exposition in one breath, blinking awkwardly.

"This author is known for his children's literature too. If you haven't read them, I recommend you check it out."

"Hm."

He spoke with clear enunciation. Realizing how quiet Juho was, Seo Kwang responded,

"Right, I'll let you be now. It's been a while since I ran into another book lover."

"It's fine. I was getting bored anyway. You must enjoy reading quite a bit."

"Reading is my life."

It was as if Seo Kwang had been waiting all along to say that. It was very apparent how much he loved reading.

A high school student who enjoyed reading… that was a rarity, He treated Juho's book with care to prevent damaging it. Seo Kwang gave Juho the book back and pulled out the book that he had brought himself. Recognizing the cover, Juho read it out loud instinctively.

"Trace of a Bird."

There was a bird in a white background. Another person was holding the very book written by Juho himself. It had been a while since Juho had seen it. Life kept on spiraling downward like the trace of a bird. It would not stop. Juho even felt like the book snatched away his wings. It couldn't have been true, of course.

He stared at the book, and asked Seo Kwang, who was anxiously waiting, a question, "Was it any good?"

It was a heavily paraphrased question. Seo Kwang let out an exaggerated sigh. He put his hands on his face, and shook his head.

"'Good' alone can't dare to describe this book."

"Then?"

"I'm blessed for sure. I can't believe I get to read such a masterpiece in its original language instead of a translated copy. It's about time Korea had its own, world-renowned author!"

"Let's not get too excited."

It was an over-the-top compliment. Seo Kwang didn't mind one bit that he was the only person talking in the classroom. It was truly a passionate speech.

"How could you be so lukewarm? You haven't read it haven't you? You won't be the same after you read it. How can I not be excited? This is a masterpiece. This book is truly a masterpiece!"

"OK, I get it."

Juho nodded, but Seo Kwang kept on. He must have been the kind who jumps in recklessly when in came to his passion. They might appear to be calm most of the time, but as soon as they heard anything relating to their passions, they turned into a bard giving an epic speech. They were usually referred to as Mania, Otaku or Collectors. Seeing how he was already friendly with Juho, he probably hadn't been the quiet type from the get-go.

"As soon as I finished reading this book, I bought two more copies for myself. One for preservation, one for enjoyment and one for practical use."

"That's a waste of money."

"Waste? What do you mean waste?"

It was as if Seo Kwang had already become friends with Juho. Listening to Seo Kwang's speech on the difference between wasting and investment, Juho became curious.

"What's the practical use for?"

"This one I'm carrying. The book gets damaged when you carry it around."

With those proud words, he embraced his book. Seo Kwang was probably the only person who was that passionate about reading over video games or girls.

"You know what's even more amazing?"

"I don't know."

"The author is our age, a high school student."

Juho didn't say anything. Seo Kwang made whatever he wanted out of Juho's reaction and went on unimpeded.

"Shocked? This book won an award at a competition hosted by a publishing company. It's not common that a high school student would get the award, and not only that, the content is top notch. No wonder people are going crazy over it."

"Hmmm."

"I don't know anything else though. His age is the only thing known to the public. He is a student, so they're trying to protect him."

"How curious."

"Of course! I want to know what this guy looks like. What kind of person does it take to write such an amazing book? I'm so curious!"

Juho muttered silently as Seo Kwang grumbled on,

'He's right in front of your eyes. Don't complain too much, my friend.'

The End

You are reading

The Great Storyteller

ebook which is a free download at

wWw.EbookUpdates.Net

.

Download more ebooks for free at

EbookUpdates.Net

.

3 Chapter 3 - Starting Again 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

Juho looked back to the day his hand hurt from writing for an extended period of time, particularly, to all of his failures. Something had to be done to prevent them from repeating themselves, even if it meant him being selfish.

Immediately, Juho called his editor.

"I have something to tell you. Are you busy?"

"... Is it bad news?"

"It depends… It's nothing serious. I just wanted to ask you a favor."

"What's the favor?"

Juho camly explained his situation.

"I honestly don't really understand what's happening. I personally don't think that my book is all that great. I can't see it that way. I'm still a student, and the amount of attention I'm getting is quite overwhelming."

"Hm," the editor moaned faintly.

"I'm not sure about your views about your own work, but I do agree that all of this can be overwhelming. Most people who received a great deal of attention while young live unfortunate lives. Half of autobiographies out there are about failure."

His words pricked Juho's conscience, but he carried on, "So, if possible, I wanted to shy away from interviews. I don't want my face to be known. I want a quiet school life."

He had gone straight to the point without beating around the bush. There was a long pause. Juho was aware how powerful that could be as a means of promotion, but there was no way he wanted to live through that tiresome life again. There were even some authors who chose to remain anonymous. It was more than possible. The publishing company would need some explanation, but that would do.

He waited patiently, and the editor, concerned, let out another sigh and continued, "I'm an editor, and selling books is part of my job."

"Of course."

"It's also my job to consider the author's stance. I understand. It doesn't seem like it's a matter I can talk you out of."

"Thank you."

"You didn't put up a picture on your profile and you've been using an alias, so everything should be fine."

"OK."

"You've never made an official appearance at an event, so it wouldn't be impossible if want to stay hidden. It wouldn't be a bad idea to add a little mysticism to our strategy. Like you said, you are a student after all," the editor thought out loud. Then, he continues playfully, "You know, you don't look half bad. I'm sure the promotional team has been eyeing you for their promo video. That's a shame. Well, the book has been doing well even without promotion, so there shouldn't be any issues. I haven't been home in days thanks to you."

"Are you that busy?"

"Don't even get me started," he sighed.

"There's a massive number of incoming orders from bookstores. The press called too. Shoot, I guess this means no signing events either. It came up at the meeting."

"I don't even have a signature."

"Well, you're a big shot now, so you should come up with one. I'll call you with any updates."

With those words, the editor hung up his phone. The reason for not putting up a profile picture was simple. It was because Juho wasn't particularly fond of his pictures. He did consider taking a new picture at one point, but he found out there were many authors who intentionally skipped the profile picture, so he ended up simply writing an introduction. Who would've thought that would've been such a good move? It really was impossible to predict what followed after a choice.

As Juho daydreamed, Seo Kwang asked impatiently, "Hey, are you listening to me? How great of a book is this!?"

"I heard you, so enough of that."

"If you're longing to read it, I intend on lending you my practical uses copy."

"I respectfully decline."

As Juho and Seo Kwang argued, other students began to break out of their shells. Some were making quick, short conversations, while others approached Juho and Seo Kwang. A book was an easy topic to get plugged into.

"I know that book too!"

"Oh, did you read it?" Seo Kwang responded welcomely.

"It's the first book I've read from cover to cover."

Soon, others surrounding the two chimed in. They had been quietly listening to the conversation between Juho and Seo Kwang.

"My parents were nagging me so much, asking what I've been doing with my life when this guy's been writing a book."

"I was leveling up my character and helping out my friend with his. Doesn't that count as volunteer work?"

"Hey, help me out too!"

"Who do you play?"

It didn't take long for the subject to change. Juho was relieved that the attention wasn't on him. Why hadn't he appreciated that before?

Unhappy about the new subject, Seo Kwang added, "They should read if they have time for video games."

"You sound like my mom."

"You're kind of geeky. You must be smart."

"No. I found out reading and grades are two separate things."

Seo Kwang began striking conversations with other students. He had to be a natural. There was not a bit of shyness in him. Seeing Juho sitting quietly, he tapped Juho and said, "See? These kids have no interest in reading, and they're all here with 'Trace of a Bird.' This book has an incredible influence."

Seo Kwang had to be trying to get Juho to read the book. There probably weren't that many students who weren't repulsed by books. The number of people reading had been on a steady decline at that age. It was not easy to run into a fellow literature aficionado.

Juho followed Seo Kwang's finger pointing to the background of the book cover. A bird in a white background. The book didn't have the flashiest cover, yet it found its way into the hands of those boys and girls. It was unusual, and students were reading the book of their own volition. It was not like it was porn either.

The student who was talking about video games earlier said, "I admit that it was a good read. I wanted to stay out of trouble with my mom, so I pretended to read it, but I actually finished it before I knew it."

"Don't you think it's unfair the author is our age though? He must've made a lot of money. I'm jealous."

"I wasted all that money, so you don't have to be jealous," Juho muttered silently and picked up Seo Kwang's book. "Seems like it's popular."

"A book like this is bound to be a hit."

Ignoring Seo Kwang urging him to read it, Juho took a brief look at the cover. The book wasn't very thick, even thought it was a full-length novel. In the back, there were the summary and critics' reviews:

"I decided to pick this book the first time I saw it."

"I'm captivated by the author's unique sensibilities. Reading his book is a once-in-an-eternity adventure."

"Got me once with his seasoned writing, and then again with his age."

They were all embarrassing. Those same critiques came back to haunt Juho two years later.

"I'm getting curious. Who could this high school student be? Hope it's a she."

"A person who writes like this has to be pretty. Pretty sure she has a good heart too."

A girl? Juho struggled to hold back his laughter hearing what the other students were talking about. It was refreshing. That moment, Seo Kwang raised his hand to stop the conversation.

"That would be nice, but it's still early to jump to conclusions. There were some touches of masculinity in places."

"That makes sense. It was written from the perspective of a first-person male protagonist."

Juho agreed half-heartedly and expressed approval to their reasoning. The surrounding became livelier than before. He was satisfied with the new environment,

He reminisced about his school life. It had been flashy. Everybody had wanted to talk to him, his classmates, students from another class, even the teachers.

He had even been called by the half-balf prince as a random moniker of encouragement. Within a few days, there had been a banner at the front gate. Juho had enjoyed his chaotic, daily life. Of course, it had all been gone in a flash, and it hadn't been long before people changed. It had been his fault for being rash.

"The teacher's here!" a student shouted.

The bell was already ringing. Everyone placed their new textbooks on the desk. The classroom was filled with tension for meeting the new teacher. They were silent, as if nobody had been talking the entire time.

The teacher walked in through the front door, and all eyes were on him. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties.

"Sigh."

'Sigh?'

It was their first official meeting, and the teacher is sighing as if he was already sick of it all. Juho felt slightly upset.

'Had there ever been a teacher like that?'

He tried to retrace his memory, but there weren't many he could remember clearly. The teacher half-heartedly reached for a chair and placed it in front of the podium.

"My name is Song Hak Moon, and I'm going to be teaching you literature. Call me Mr. Moon."

The kids were silent. As if he knew they would be, Mr. Moon continued, "It's the first day, so we'll be doing independent study. I, as a literature teacher, will be spending this time reading. You may all do as you wish, as long as it doesn't bother anyone."

Mr. Moon sat on the chair and opened a book. It was a famous detective novel. Juho was acquainted with the book. The students were thrown off by the sudden freedom, but soon celebrated the fact that there was no class.

Juho looked at Mr. Moon. There were wrinkles on his forehead. He was completely immersed in his book, even within such a short time. He had a very serious look as he turned the pages. Without moving a muscle, he kept on reading.

Juho took his eyes off from Mr. Moon and took out his study guide. He had bought it to celebrate being a student again. It had already been a few days since the purchased it, but the progress had been slow. He smiled weakly. Studying was still just as undesirable as ever, even after having traveled back in time.

"May I go to the restroom?" a student asked cautiously. Once combined with school, the restroom transformed into a word that caused conflict between teachers and students.

While there were teachers who let their student go to the restroom during class, there were teachers also teachers who did not. Teachers who were particularly strict would become angry or incredibly offended. Not wanting to be a target for such a teacher, the student who brought up the word restroom kept a watchful eye to the teacher's reaction.

"Sure," Mr. Moon responded carelessly, as if there were no point in being nervous about asking.

Other students who'd been observing began to ask the same question one after another. Mr. Moon responded with the same dull answer to each and every one of them.

He had seemed like he'd be rough around the edges by how he'd sighed soon after seeing his new students, but that might not be true.

When the bell rang, Mr. Moon gathered his belongings and left the classroom without saying a word.

"That teacher's kind of different. He takes no interest in his students."

"Good for him, and good for us."

By nature, that teacher seemed unmotivated to do his job. Mr. 'Moon was it?'

Juho became curious of how he would teach in the future.

The bell rang after a short recess. This time, the teacher was an older lady in her fifties. Her subject was English. She wrote her name on the chalkboard. Like an English teacher, it was in English. Juho read the Roman alphabet letters written on the board. It read Myung Ja Kang.

"You're fortunate that you have me as your teacher," she said abruptly, without any introduction.

There was silence in the classroom, but it was apparent that they were at loss of words. Who was that?

"Among your seniors, there are five people who have gone onto study English education at Seoul University. I've taught all of them."

Juho desperately held back his desire to sigh like Mr. Moon. The word 'university' made him realize that he really was a student.

"Everyone, you have to do well in English. Why? Because otherwise, you won't be able to get into a university. Isn't that your goal? If you want to reach your goal, you have to speak English. Unless your parents are rich, English is a must. We live in a meritocracy. I will grant the right to contradict my words only to those who can speak better than I can."

There was no way that anybody would raise their hand in a classroom filled with silence. Juho felt bitterness toward the reality in which he had to listen to all of that. He turned his eyes to the window. There was no one in the yard, and the front gate made of iron was shut tight.

'I could use a drink right about now,' thought Juho.

"You may have a hard time understanding what I'm saying. You may want to say that university isn't everything there is to life and that there are many other paths. Everyone, that's the foolishness of a child. Mark the words of this veteran who's lived far more than you. You'll be able to live a life with no regrets. I will not accept complaints. I will be only accept your gratitude for getting you into a university with my English training."

'A life with no regrets she said? Wasn't this an English class? Those are some lofty words.' Juho thought.

He looked around. There were a lot of hardened faces. Some were terrified. This was a time when things like university or society appeared monstrous, and Juho felt sorry for them.

"My class will be based on SAT materials. When I point to you, I expect you to stand up, and give a clear answer. If you're unable to answer or act immaturely, I will deduct points."

'Immature, that meant a fruit was not ripe yet. What sense does it make to deduct points for being immature when she's already called her students young? This teacher is going to be trouble.'

Juho couldn't resist his desire to sigh that time.

The End

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4 Chapter 4 - Everybody Makes Mistakes

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

"Number 1."

"Huh?"

"Please read the text until I say stop."

The girl at the frontmost seat rose from her seat. With hesitation, she stumbled through the words in English. Her voice was unstable. It was clear that she was nervous. It wasn't long before that shaky voice came to an abrupt stop. There was a word she didn't know how to read, and soon, the classroom became completely silent.

"Um… I'm not sure how to pronounce this," the girl said timidly.

"Right. Which middle school did you go to?"

"Um…"

Mrs. Kang didn't actually say anything to talk down the girl's middle school English teacher. Her attitude spoke louder than her words. 'Number 1' was flushing from embarrassment, while the other students looked at each wondering if that was OK. Juho was occupied by reading the text.

It was strange.

Juho was able to read English fluently. He rubbed his eyes forcefully. Even when things were still blurry, Juho was able to read them. It felt natural.

'What is going on?' he thought to himself.

The text was about environment-friendly consumption. It would've been impossible to understand even after sixteen years of education - six years of elementary, six years of middle and high schools, and four years of college. How was it that Juho was able to understand English as if it were his native language?

The second he started reading in English, there was a strange "click" in Juho's head. It sounded like a button being pressed.

The only explanation for all of that was the miracle of travelling to the past.

'Did somebody plant a language learning device in my brain while I was time traveling?' thought Juho.

In midst of the confusion, Juho heard Mrs. Kang's edgy words. Every sentence was a command.

'Is this the kind of tone she's going to be teaching with?' Her attitude was saying that the teacher was above her students. She was basically teaching them that people weren't equal.

Juho tried reading another sentence. He was able to translate it without problems and was able to understand everything. He focused on that unfamiliar sensation. It felt like a part of his brain had been mashed in.

Some active device was telling Juho the rules and meanings of a language. It all felt as natural as smelling.

"Recently, I've researched various, convenient methods for wise consumption."

Because of the device, Juho recognized the mistake in Mrs.Kang's translation.

'Number 1' was still in a same position. That teacher was enough of a bad influence to those children as it was, and Juho couldn't let her make a mistake. He quietly raised his hand, and his eyes met Mrs. Kang's. She stopped her translation and pointed at Juho with her chin. There was an annoyance in her gesture.

"Is there a problem?"

'This better be good,' was the unspoken pressure. Juho paid no attention to Mrs. Kang's judgement and responded calmly.

"You've mistranslated."

Mrs. Kang kept a still face and started looking into the text. The students were silent, but not because it was the first day of school. There was a faint excitement in midst of that anxiety. If what Juho had said was true, then it would mean that Mrs. Kang had made a mistake. The very teacher who had just given them a lofty speech about meritocracy, that teacher, who wanted to wield power over her students, had left an opening. Her fangs were itching behind her closed lips. Fangs that were small, yet rigid.

"What's your name sir?"

"Juho Woo."

"Have you been to another country?"

"No, ma'am."

Mrs. Kang smiled. Clueless of what it meant, the students felt uneasy about her smile.

"How was your grade in English?"

"I don't remember exactly, but probably on the lower side."

Juho did not have such good grades, especially so on core subjects.

"And you're saying that you can hear the flaw in the translation?"

"It seems like you haven't found it yet, Mrs.Kang."

"...My translation was accurate. The English you're learning is at best, at high school level. It means I find it incredibly easy. I will have to deduct points for disrupting the class, what's your call number?"

She wasn't even going to listen to him. Rather than giving Mrs.Kang what she wanted, Juho read through the text written in high school level English. He interpreted every single word while avoiding excessively literal translation.

"Environment-friendly consumption, therefore, means to make a wise decision. One should purchase items made of recycled materials and avoid making any unnecessary purchases. Moreover, environment-friendly consumption isn't just beneficial to this planet, but it is also beneficial to my bank account. Also, I have been researching various convenient methods for wise consumption. As a result, I have been carrying a recyclable bag. However, I have trouble remembering to take the recyclable bag with me to the grocery store."

"..."

"You just translated 'Recently, I've researched various, convenient methods for wise consumption.' To me, these sentences are saying that all of that has been an ongoing process. So, wouldn't it make more sense to say 'I have been researching various convenient methods for wise consumption?'"

"He's right. This is the present perfect continuous tense,"

said one of the students.

Juho knew nothing about the present perfect continuous or the past perfect tenses, but judging from the students wavering, that student must have been right.

'High school level at best.' Mrs. Kang had made a mistake at a standard she considered negligible. A mistake was never the same as a fault. Students simply wanted her to accept her mistake and stand corrected. It was probably too much to ask though, considering all the things she had been saying thus far.

Mrs. Kang became conscious of her mistake and frantically searched through the textbook.

"...How strange. It came out slightly different on the educator's edition."

"As far as I know, the educator's edition hasn't been distributed yet, Mrs.Kang."

Her face was scrunching up into a scowl. After small revisions, textbooks had been getting distributed every year. Her book cover, now completely exposed facing the students, was no different from theirs.

In a world entirely based on merit, according to Mrs. Kang. how would they punish her? She tried to remain calm, but the ridge above her lips was already filled with sweat. It was the moment when a mistake became a fault.

"Chuckle!"

Students started giggling. Eventually, the classroom was shaking with uncontrolled laughter. The only people who were not laughing were Juho and Mrs. Kang.

Could things have gone the same way if another teacher had made a mistake and Juho had said the same thing? No. The students knew it. Teachers were human too, which meant they were just as susceptible to mistakes.

These kids had to have understood it by now, but the students taught by Mrs. Kang were different.

Juho sat down. He hoped that Mrs. Kang would stop ridiculing others by bringing up things like English or university. If the value of a person was based on such things, the world would be a miserable place to live in. Juho had no intention of turning the world he was living in into a tiresome place.

Mrs. Kang, the English teacher, rushed out of the classroom. After she left, Seo Kwang quickly turned to Juho.

"Psycho!"

That was unexpected.

"Is your heart made of iron? What were you thinking opening up your mouth at a time like that? Oh, and you didn't stop there. You went the extra mile and really let her have it. You're insane! You're incredible!"

Though Seo Kwang's words were quite misleading, Juho shrugged his shoulder and answered, "I let her have it? I only spoke up to address her misunderstanding."

Juho smiled and slowly drew away from the conversation. Seo Kwang immediately caught on to what Juho was really saying.

"Aha! So, you're saying Mrs. Kang is the one who actually made things awkward? You were just acting normal."

Juho didn't talk back to her or complain about her one-sided statements. He merely corrected her mistake. It was Mrs. Kang herself who had turned the situation into what it was.

Seo Kwang squinted at Juho. He felt that all the reading he had done up to that point had been helpful in a situation like that. There was something dangerous about Juho in the way he played coy when getting to know a person. Next to his peers, there was something quite different about him, and Seo Kwang came to like it.

"Let's be friends."

"That's random."

Though he answered light-heartedly, Juho had to read every single book recommended by Seo Kwang.

---

The classroom was rowdy. The students had completely adjusted to their new school now. There were cliques, which meant people started talking to each other. However, that wasn't the only explanation for the rowdy classroom.

It was time for the so-called club invitation season. The upperclassmen came into the first years' classrooms to introduce their clubs.

Next to the chalkboard were the flyers for all the different clubs, and the kids would wonder about which club to choose during recess.

There were upperclassmen before Juho, promoting their club with a hand-made sign, three girls and three boys from the volunteering club. He wondered if it was really necessary to have that many people promoting a club. The only person doing the talking was the girl in the middle.

"The strength of our club is that we really fill up the student record. You all know that you should take care of that on your first year, right? You'll have less and less time as you go up. There's no time for volunteering work, but the teachers are making a fuss about writing whatever helpful thing you can think of on your applications. THAT is when you'll think of this club. This is a testimony. While your friends are struggling, you could indulge in the pleasure of burning through your applications!"

The girl went on with her excited speech. The kids were quietly listening to the upperclassman. Realizing that there was an awkwardness in the air, she quickly wrapped up her speech. The club members who were standing next to her hadn't said a single word until the very end.

"Anyhow, if you're interested, come find me in classroom 2-3."

Next was the music club. Unlike its name, the reality was that they only sang a few songs at the school festival. A male upperclassman came out to promote it with a picket.

"If you enjoy music on a regular basis, are interested in music or are in love with music, this is the club for you. There is a brief interview, but don't be intimidated. You can still be part of our club even if you're not a good singer or a dancer. It's OK if you know nothing about music. We can learn together. Our basic activity is to enjoy and appreciate."

Next, came the cultural exploration club. Their activities were mainly outdoors. Perhaps that explained the unusual fashion sense of its members. The upperclassmen who came into the classroom to promote the club were all dressed in extraordinary clothing. It was as if they would be leaving for a jungle exploration at any minute.

"That guy in the khaki hat, he's my style."

Seo Kwang whispered jokingly to Juho. As if in response, that upperclassman spoke with a loud voice, "Wherever there's culture, the cultural exploration club is there. As close as the park nearby or as far as a folk village! We go wherever our members desire! Come join our club!"

Then, he took a deep breath and asked for everyone's attention, apparently the most important thing was left to the end.

"Our homeroom teacher treats to some food often."

At that, a few excited students came forth. It didn't sound all that interesting, but it had definitely been the most energetic club so far. With cultural exploration club as the last, the club promotion came to an end.

"Which club are you planning on joining?" asked Seo Kwang.

After the promotion, there were even more kids looking at the flyers. Seo Kwang and Juho were far from the crowd. They were skimming through the flyers to see the different clubs that were around.

"I don't know. You?"

"I'm thinking about joining the book club, but it kind of bothers me that they have the Chinese teacher as their homeroom teacher."

"Ah! You mean the one who teaches the second years? He's always in modernized traditional garments."

That teacher really gave off an intimidating impression with his deep wrinkled brows. Seo Kwang stepped forward and started looking for a literature club. According to him, he had been in a literature debate club for all three years in middle school,

Juho decided to look around by himself. Then, he saw the title 'Documentary Appreciation Club," the club he used to be part of.

They sat still and watched documentaries of their teacher's choosing. That was the entirety of that club's activity, but Juho was quite fond of it.

"Should I go back to watching documentaries, or should I try something new?" Juho pondered.

The End

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5 Chapter 5 - A Piece of Paper on the Ground

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

Sensing something under his feet, Juho looked down. There was a piece of paper on the ground.

It was not at all in a good shape. There were already multiple footprints on it. After brushing off some dust, Juho was able to get a sense for why that paper was so unpopular.

"Literature Club."

It seemed boring even at a glimpse. Aside from Juho and Seo Kwang, most people would move on without even bothering to look into it. It seemed to have reached Juho after getting kicked around.

He read the details of the club on the paper.

Homeroom Teacher: Song Hak Moon.

It was that teacher who sighed before even giving a proper introduction.

"Are you interested in the Literature Club?" Seo Kwang made his way through the crowd and asked.

"It didn't sound half bad."

"You want to join together then? If you say yes, I'll give up the Book Club."

"You're giving the Book Club up because of the teacher."

Seo Kwang pretended he didn't hear him and took the flyer. Juho had already finished reading through it, so he gladly handed it to Seo Kwang. His face didn't seem to brighten up as he read it.

"Apparently, they changed their name to Literature Club from Literature Debate Club. It could be one of the lazy clubs."

'Lazy clubs' were clubs whose primary activity was made of independent study. Clubs like Film Appreciation or the English Newspaper Club existed just in name. The reality was that they spent their time in self-study. Even their homeroom teachers hardly showed up. Kids who were part of those clubs were either working on their study guides or taking naps.

"Well, that ain't so bad."

"Maybe you're right. Then again, you could take that time to read a book."

Juho had had a similar thought. If it was self-study time, he could use the time to write.

Of course, Juho and Seo Kwang would be the only people who would be reading or writing among other students.

"OK. Do we go with this one then?"

"Let's do it."

Just like that, the two decided on a club without much trouble even though there was no way to know how many members there were in that club. Determined, they carried on without hesitation. They filled out their applications and headed straight to the staffroom.

Mr. Moon's desk was visible right as they walked into the staffroom. Unlike other teachers who were dealing with waves of students, he was lost in his book all alone.

"Mr. Moon, here's our club application."

"Well, well."

Mr. Moon looked away from his book to looked at Juho and Seo Kwang. With a mysterious exclamation, he took the applications from them. He scanned for their names and slid them between the pages of his book. That was it. No greetings or anything.

Seo Kwang asked out of curiosity, "What kind of activities are we doing?"

Mr. Moon answered with a smirk, "It's too late now. You can't withdraw after having already submitted the application."

It was not clear, but it didn't seem to be one of the lazy clubs at least. It was the Literature Club, so they probably did some writing too.

"That kind of scares me."

"What does? Aren't you guys used to being forced to do things?"

"Haha! That is true, but I'm still curious."

Mr. Moon was casually saying things that a teacher wouldn't normally say to his students. Seo Kwang agreed with him with a smile and kept on pestering him for an answer. Meanwhile, Mr. Moon kept avoiding giving direct answers to their questions. Here and there, he turned his eyes back to the book in his hand. It didn't seem like he was trying to hide the book, but rather, wanting to get back to it.

"A book over his student asking him questions… Why is this person teaching?"

That moment, they heard somebody come into the staffroom. Juho and Seo Kwang turned around, and they saw two girls with applications in their hands. One had a ponytail and the other had bob-cut hair. The girl with the ponytail said, "Excuse me."

"Sure."

Before Juho even had time to signal Seo Kwan, she cut through them boldly. The other girl quietly followed. Mr. Moon took the applications and slid them between the pages, just like with Juho's and Seo Kwang's. There had been no difference to his actions, and Seo Kwang broke the silence and continued on his attempt at a conversation with Mr. Moon.

Nodding reluctantly, Mr. Moon answered, "Then, I'll tell you about the Literature Club's past. There's a saying that you can see the future if you know the history."

"The Literature Club has a past? It wasn't just a new name?"

"If the name was the only concern, wouldn't the other name be more sophisticated? Literature Debate Club, why bother changing it?"

That was true. The two girls were still around as if they were curious. Mr. Moon continued to talk about the Literature Club and emphasized its deep tradition. He seemed livelier than ever.

"Considering the tradition, it doesn't have much presence."

Mr. Moon agreed with Juho, "You're right. It lacks presence. That's why it disappeared, but I brought it back."

"Aha!"

It seemed like the Literature Club took the place of the Literature Debate Club in the process of its revival.

"It still needs presence," the girl with a ponytail said.

Mr.Moon slowly raised a book. It was the same book he was sliding the applications into, and the applications fluttered between the white pages.

"But we're living in another time. There's been a second wind in the world of literature because of this book."

The book was titled 'Trace of a Bird.' Juho's eyes followed the book waving from side to side, and Mr. Moon continued, "Everyone's talking about the birth of a teenage bestselling author. So, the Literature Club simply rode that wave and made a comeback."

Juho remembered seeing the news that an increasing number of parents were sending their children to private institutions after school for composition writing. Now that he thought about it, it had made sense for him to be arrogant seeing how the book had been such a big deal.

Because the bell rang and the topic wasn't exactly welcoming, Juho and Seo Kwang made their way back to class.

The two headed to the science room. It was the meeting room for the Literature Club. Located in the corner of the third floor, the science room was often at the center of ghost stories because of its location and purpose. They were stereotypical school stories kind of like the mannequin coming to life at midnight. They'd be laughable even for kindergarteners.

Juho and Seo Kwang went into the science room, which was far apart from other classrooms. There were two other people who had already arrived.

"Hey, there!"

The girl in ponytail took the initiative, and then the girl with the bob cut followed. Juho and Seo Kwang exchanged greetings with them as they walked into the room. It was their second meeting.

The four sat facing each other in pairs with a long desk in between. The girls with short hair sat across from Juho, and it was very apparent that she was feeling awkward.

"Are you two in the same class?" Seo Kwang asked.

"Yeah, you guys must be too, seeing as how you're walking in together, right?" the girl in ponytail answered, and he introduced himself.

"I'm Sun Hwa Ahn, and this is Bom Yoon," the girl in ponytail said.

Juho introduced himself in response. Then, there was the awkward silence that came after exchanging names, and Seo Kwang started talking to break the ice.

"What brings you two to the club?"

"We like books."

There was a big smile on Seo Kwang's face. He was about to walk up to them to put his arms around and shout "Friends!," but he soon returned to his seat after hearing what Sun Hwa had to add.

"Comics."

"Comics?"

That was a different genre. Seo Kwang was obsessed with print. It wasn't that he didn't read comics at all, but his preference had always been to have words finely printed onto white sheets of paper.

While he was in disappointment, Juho asked Sun Hwa, "Wasn't there a Comic/Cartoon Research Club?"

"That's one of the lazy clubs. I refuse to be part of a club that's got nothing to offer other than its name. How dare they desecrate comics?! They're not just words you know."

Juho was impressed by Sun Hwa's passion as she scrunched up her face in annoyance. She was a girl full of pride toward comics.

"What about your friend there? Bom was it? Do you like comics too?" Seo Kwang asked Bom in case she was any different, but unlike his expectations, she nodded her head in affirmation. Everytime she moved her head, her hair played on her cheeks.

"Sun Hwa recommended them to me. I've been enjoying them."

"Well, well, what if you try getting into actual books? I can give you recommendations if you want."

"No, sure."

At her vague answer, Seo Kwang asked Juho with his eyes, 'Is that a yes or a no?'

'I don't know either,' Juho responded.

Next, Sun Hwa asked Juho a question as if she were trying to one-up Seo Kwang's attempts, "How about you?"

"I've read some of the famous ones."

He named the few comics he knew. With bright eyes, Sun Hwa brought her face closer to Juho. He backed off and thought, 'I think I made a mistake.'

"A character design that is full of dreams, friendship, love and liveliness, and the adventure of the protagonist. Woven through it, there are delicate life lessons and youthfulness that is both sweet and savory. From the clean drawing and solid storyline to a wide range of fans, I can't help but be in awe of this author's talent."

Juho looked over at Seo Kwang thinking, 'Déjà vu.' With a serious face, Seo Kwang listened to Sun Hwa intently.

"I recommend his debut work. It's a short story about a girl suffering from a rare disease and an actor who's past his prime. The two characters learn to depend on each other, and they are both determined to live. The direction, the composition, the drawing, the dialogues… It's flawless."

"Hm."

"If that means you're interested, I can lend you one right now. It's in my bag."

"I respectfully decline."

"Fine."

Sun Hwa clicked her tongue as Juho turned her down. Seo Kwang came between them and added, "Yeah! He's supposed to be reading the books I recommended first."

"I don't remember agreeing to that."

Seo Kwang was completely oblivious to Juho's murmur. He took out a book from his bag and put it in front of Sun Hwa.

"Alright. I'm sure you've heard of this book. You're a spy if you haven't."

"Oh, yeah!"

"Yeah, I recognize it," Sun Hwa and Bom responded simultaneously.

It was impossible not to know about that book. It was the very book the press had been talking about nonstop. Mr. Moon had brought it up at one point too, the birth of a genius author, Trace of a Bird. It was a critically acclaimed work.

"I haven't read it yet."

At that, Seo Kwang's eyes lit up, and he began to tell them the synopsis. It was a story about a boy who was afraid of birds.

"If you just say that you're interested, I can take it out of my bag right now and lend it to you."

"Not interested," Sun Hwa declined sharply.

"I'm for the minorities. I'm a person who would rather swim against the current. Even if I get around to reading it, I'll get to it once the hype dies down."

"What?! You're a stubborn one aren't you?"

"What did you just say?"

From then on, Seo Kwang and Sun Hwa got busy bickering with each other. Bom tried to stop them from fighting, but it was useless.

Juho left the two bickering and looked around the room. There were various experiment tools in storage. On the left side of the room, there was a mannequin, and next to it, there were desks and chairs that were no longer in use. The room might be called a science room, but it was obvious that it was being used as storage space. Everytime Juho breathed in, there was faint scent of rubbing alcohol.

Fwoosh!

At the sound of the door, the four turned their heads at the same time. A guest was standing by the door. Bulky, long-limbed, short hair, thick lips, teeth that were exceptionally white and dark-skinned.

"Is he black?" someone whispered.

The End.

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6 Chapter 6 - The Basics

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

The black boy strode into the room. From the color of his name tag, it was apparent that he was a second year.

While everyone else was giving the upperclassman a blank stare, Juho remembered who he was. Coming to think of it, there had been a black student in his high school. They had never talked, but Juho remembered his looks and his brusque impression.

"Hello," Juho said in midst of the silence. As he found his seat, the upperclassman looked at him. The rings arounds his eyes were paler.

"Hey."

"You must be part of the Literature Club too."

"I wouldn't be here otherwise."

"I'm Juho Woo. Nice to meet you."

It was a strange sight. He spoke fluent Korean, contrary to his looks. At Juho's greeting, the rest snapped out of it and greeted the new guest.

"Baron Kim. Second year. You don't have to be so tense."

Baron looked stern. It was very unusual to be around a black upperclassman in Korea. The others were feeling like they were walking on eggshells, all except for Juho.

"Would you mind if I call you Baron?"

"If you want."

Encouraged by Juho's boldness, Seo Kwang began to ask Baron questions, indirectly, of course, "You and I have the same last name."

"My father is Korean. I was born here."

Baron didn't seem to be bothered, but he didn't seem friendly either. The silence returned. As if he were used to it, Baron took out a book from his bag.

It was the Literature Club after all. The members seemed to possess some level of interest in books. Juho looked intently at the book in Baron's hand. Seeing how fidgety Seo Kwang was getting, it was getting obvious what book it was. Baron's hand was clearly visible wrapped around the white book cover.

Fwoosh!

It was Mr. Moon, and that was the signal that the silence had come to an end.

"Mr. Moon!"

"Yea, yea! It's me."

Although the students welcomed him, Mr. Moon remained calm.

"Everyone's here."

"Is there only five of us in the club?"

"Makes roll call that much easier."

Had there been no promotion or was that one of the lazy clubs? How many high school students liked books? There were only five people in that school who would join a literature club, including Juho.

Mr. Moon put down the pile of books in his hand and sat across from Baron. Then, he put everything he brought onto the table. At a glance, it was apparent what they were.

"I'm Song Hak Moon, the homeroom teacher for the Literature Club. Let's have some fun."

Fun... He seemed oddly excited. His attitude was different from the one he showed in class. It hadn't been that long since Juho met him, but at the moment, he was livelier than ever.

"You seem much happier than you are in class," said Seo Kwang.

Juho wasn't the only person who thought Mr. Moon was different from the usual. Everyone looked at him, wondering what he was so excited about.

Mr. Moon spoke with a big smile. It was an innocent smile that you wouldn't normally see in a teacher, "Of course! Teaching you guys is less fun than counting grains of sand in a desert. You don't know the misery I go through every Sunday night do you? Dreading coming here."

"Um..."

Of course they wouldn't. He was the first teacher who had said such a thing so confidently. How did one react in that situation? Mr. Moon's face was too vivid to move on with silly jokes.

Seo Kwang had a big smile on his face. It was sort of unexpected, but once he realized that the teacher was no different from him, he was able to identify with Mr. Moon.

"Haha!" Seo Kwang laughed out loud now.

"If I want to make a living, I have to be here. Life is too short to be living with such pain, but that doesn't make teaching any more fun. That's why I looked around the school to find something fun."

"And that was the Literature Club?" asked Juho. This was one strange teacher.

"A compilation, to be exact. I found it at the school library."

The books he had brought were compilations. 'How curious,' Juho didn't know that he could find things like that at the school library.

"This, is the tradition of the Literature Club. All of the succeeding compilations are being kept at the school library. Thirty-four volumes in total. What we're going to be working on is the thirty-fifth compilation.

"We're making a compilation?" Sun Hwa asked.

The compilation books had varying titles and thickness. The content was probably different as well. It looked technical and difficult.

"It's not all that hard. You're only compiling the process."

"So, are we writing something for the compilation?" Seo Kwang asked, expecting it to be the club's primary activity, but Mr. Moon cringed.

"You're not writing to put it into something. That's not fun."

"Then, what is it?"

"You can't get the order mixed up. Compilations aren't about the objective. They're about the process. You're leaving a trace behind."

"I'm not sure I understand," Seo Kwang answered after raising his hand.

After some more thought, Mr. Moon started again, "Then, forget it."

"Pardon?"

It made no sense.

"You don't have to understand. Anyhow, we, as a Literature Club, will be doing activities that fit the club's name. That should be enough."

He definitely had no talent for teaching. This had been what Mr. Moon had been wanting to say all along, 'The compilation will complete itself as we write along. In other words, the compilation is memory.'

"Then, what's an activity that fits the name of our club?"

"Writing, of course. By the way, make sure you bring your pens and notebooks from now on."

"Yes, sir…" Everyone replied ambiguously.

The questions stopped once they realized that there wasn't going to be a decent answer no matter how substantial the questions were. Mr. Moon seemed to be comforted by the fact that there were no more question being asked. It was getting tiresome to think about whether or not a teacher could behave in such a way. Besides, a teacher like Mr. Moon wasn't that bad, surprisingly.

As Mr. Moon was about to wrap up his orientation, he randomly pointed at Baron.

"I almost forgot. There's a person who hates writing among our members. I don't like to force people to do things, so I let him in. I won't leave him to be lazy, so don't complain too much. Speaking of which, is there anybody else in this group who hates writing? Does anybody have the guts to say that after joining a literature club? Is there anyone who's twisted on the inside? Now would be the time to speak up. I'll be glad to let you have the floor."

Despite the message, his tone was pleasant. Thanks to Mr. Moon, the situation was delayed.

Sun Hwa thought to herself,

'You refuse to write in a literature club? What was the teacher thinking letting somebody like that into the club? Why is that upperclassman here anyway?'

"Then, what's Baron going to be doing?" Juho asked Mr.Moon.

An answer came from behind him, "I'm going to be drawing."

Juho thought to himself,

'Drawing. I guess that's kind of romantic. I was expecting something like "I'm going to be on my study guide."'

He looked at Baron and asked again, "How come?"

"Because I want to."

By now, everyone knew better than asking questions like that. Baron didn't feel like explaining himself, even if it meant giving a ridiculous answer.

Juho gladly left him be.

"Then, you must be the only art club member in here."

"...take it as you will."

Baron looked at Juho with annoyance. Not just Baron, but everyone else.

"So, no one else is refusing to write?" Mr. Moon confirmed again, and obviously, the result remained the same.

Clap!

He shifted the mood with his clap and went straight into teaching.

"Now, I'll be teaching you the basics of writing. Have you heard of the phrase 'damoon-dadok-dasangryang?'"

"Um."

"To put it another way, it means that in order to write well, one must listen a lot, read a lot, and think a lot," Mr. Moon explained before anybody had the time to answer.

To listen a lot, read a lot and think a lot. That was the secret to writing well according to Ouyang Xiu of China. It came up often during interviews with authors, but it was often said by the authors to make themselves look better. It was rather idiotic.

"It's very easy to write well."

"How?"

"You just write a lot."

"Egh."

It was the sound of disappoint. Paying no attention, Mr. Moon carried on, "Do you know what the very first story is when somebody picks up a pen? It's his personal story. A composition, at the end of the day, is a story from a person who writes to be read by another person. The closest person to you is yourself, so naturally, you end up writing about your personal story."

Mr. Moon opened his palm. There was nothing on it.

"We have to write a lot. It's the only way to get better. There's a limit to sticking to your own story. What do you do when the inventory is low?"

"You borrow from another person.

Satisfied with Juho's answer, Mr.Moon smiled.

"That's right. You borrow things like an eraser or a pencil from your friend next to you all the time. So we have to borrow raw materials."

"How do we do that?"

"You listen, you read, and you think. Start a conversation if that doesn't cut it. Give them something to eat. Bug them if necessary. Pull it out of them."

What does one write about? Sometime it's found internally, other times externally. Let's say that somebody stepped on a rock. There are some who simply kick it away and carry on, but there are some who listen to the person, their thoughts and feelings to create a story."

"Let's start with taking an interest in your surroundings. Speaking of which, who sticks out the most?"

"Who sticks ou…!"

"A person."

All eyes were focused on one person. It had to be Baron. He had been the center of attention until a moment ago. Recognizing that attention again, he frowned. He already had an intimidating appearance, but he looked even scarier. Mr. Moon appeared to be happy that his lesson was flowing according to his thoughts and continued, "The minority is bound to stick out. As a homeroom teacher, I'll give you a mission. There's no time requirement. This is also a training to be a good writer."

"Mission?"

Ignoring Sun Hwa's dumbfounded murmur, Mr. Moon continued, "Get yourselves a composition from that strange upperclassman. It doesn't matter what. The only condition is that Baron has to write and submit it in person."

Juho was impressed. A person was bound to be on his toes if he tried to get something from another person. Thinking of ways to get Baron's writing, one would naturally use their eyes and ears. In the process, the chance of growing closer to Baron increased. This entire time, Juho had been thinking that Mr. Moon had no talent in teaching. Yet, that was brilliant.

"Ha!?" Baron seemed dumbfounded.

"You may do what you wish now. You can look at your study guide if you want."

After dropping the bomb, Mr. Moon leisurely made his way out of the science room.

"Come find me in the staffroom if anything comes up," he added.

The students who were left behind looked at each other in agreement.

'Let's not say anything for now. Let's do our own thing.'

The End.

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7 Chapter 7 - Self-introduction

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

Sun Hwa and Bom took out their comics, and Baron pulled out a book. Like members of the Literature Club, they were all reading something. Juho, sitting still, picked up one of the compilations. It was 'Volume 34,' the most recent one.

The publishing date on the book was eight years ago. The compilation was titled 'Memories.' The letters, printed on a yellow background, reminded Juho of autumn, the season for books. The table of contents listed the names of the past members. Seeing how diverse the topics were, the club must have also been pretty flexible back then. Short stories, poems, essays, book report, letters to the incoming members… Juho opened to the middle of the book.

In slightly awkward sentences, the writer was talking about what the Literature Club meant to him, "The air is cold at school. We walk on the rigid marble floor. I look out through the metal beams. I have no complaints about things like that. It's just that my feet would get unbearably cold at times. So, feeling like I was buying a pair of cheap socks from the street, I joined the Literature Club. When I tried on the pair of yellow socks, they were thicker and warmer than they had seemed."

"Yellow socks..."

Maybe that was why the background was yellow.

"Hm?"

"There's something written here."

"What does it say?"

Seo Kwang took the compilation book from Juho's hand. While he was reading, Juho picked up a different compilation book. His eyes were caught on 'Volume 1.' Juho carefully opened the book, and, there were noticeably more names on the members' list.

That must have been the club's prime. The book was titled 'The Beginning.' Like the title, it was the beginning of a tradition.

Upon reading it, Juho learned that that book was closer to being an anthology. It was rather tasteful.

"Look at this. The two teachers were dating back then."

"Seriously? Let me see."

That was a conversation between Seo Kwang and Sun Hwa. Soon, with the exception of Baron, there was a compilation in the hands of each club member. Baron didn't take his eyes off of his book and paid no attention to all the compilation books.

"Aren't you going to read one, Baron?"

"I'm good."

Juho had made the question, but what came back was Baron's dry answer.

"Who has Volume 1?"

"Here!"

"Did you finish it? Can I read it?"

"Yeah."

Sun Hwa had asked as if she were reading a comic book. As Bom put down 'Volume 23' after reading it, Juho picked it up. Surprisingly, the science room ghost story was in there. Though after reading it, it seemed to have failed to frighten the students. In addition, there was a serious study on the mannequin. At the very end, was a story of people putting themselves through courage test.

"They went through a courage test."

"At night? Is that OK?"

"They must have sneaked in, and it seems like they never got caught. Let's hope that the principal hasn't read this yet."

Seo Kwang interrupted as Juho was answering Sun Hwa's question, "That sounds fun. Should we do it too?"

"You won't find anything at school at night other than the kids who are sticking around for late night study sessions."

"Where's the romance? I swear…"

Juho didn't take Seo Kwang's complaint seriously. Next, he picked up 'Volume 17.' Most of the compositions were written as reviews, and it gave Juho the impression that the trendy writing style at the time mimicked book reports. There were reports on various books, both famous and unfamiliar. There was a page with multiple reflections written by a several people after reading a book as a group. As Juho read on, he felt the urge to search for the same book. The brief synopsis aroused his interest. 'Maybe I should stop by the bookstore after school,' thought Juho.

"This is actually pretty good," Seo Kwang murmured.

"I'm sure the incoming students will be reading our writing too. I really want to do well," Sun Hwa said.

Bom gave a big nod. There was vigor in the three students' eyes.

"Reading this is making me want to wear yellow socks."

Sun Hwa added to Bom's timid voice, "Let's all get matching socks, all six of us, including the teacher."

Seo Kwang agreed, "We should have our club name on them too."

Juho replied with a unimpressed voice, "That sounds tacky just thinking about it."

---

At home, Juho was lying in bed staring at his debut work sitting on the bookshelf. He thought of what Seo Kwang had said earlier. "You haven't read it, haven't you?"

"Read it or not, I wrote it," Juho quietly repeated the words that he couldn't bring himself to say.

Nobody was around to listen.

Seo Kwang gave Juho book recommendations repeatedly after that day. When giving a recommendation, some sort of responsibility was bound to follow. There was an assessment on whether the recommendation met the other party's tastes. That wasn't just for the other person, but it was also for the one recommending the book. Did the one doing the recommendation introduce something that could be well-received? Was the recommendation to the person's satisfaction?

According to his own assessment result, Seo Kwang excelled at recommending books.

Every single one of his recommendations had been nothing but gems. By default, Juho read all books without discrimination, but just like everyone else, he did have authors or topics that he was particularly drawn to. Seo Kwang was impeccable when it came to picking out books that Juho might like.

Juho had been quite satisfied with Seo Kwang's recommendations, but there was one thing that he fell short on.

Without fail, Seo Kwang always recommended 'The Trace of a Bird.'

Juho didn't feel the same way toward his own writing as other people. Also, he didn't really feel like reading it. He sat up after thinking about Seo Kwang and his tireless efforts.

"Maybe I should check it out. It's been a while."

Seo Kwang was a passionate fan after all, reading the book that left Juho dissatisfied. Writings existed to be read. An author didn't exist without a reader.

Juho picked up the book and opened it to a random page. It was the part when the protagonist "Yun" gets out of bed at night to go for a walk. Yun washed his face and changed his clothes in the dark. He could do nothing until his eyes had adjusted to the lack of light.

As Juho read on, he had one thought, 'Just turn on the light, caveman.'

Most of the book took place at night. Juho had been strict about setting the character's activities at night. He wanted Yun to be lonely.

An empty cup was needed in order to fill it with water.

All the existing characters had their own views of the 'bird.' They turned away, killed, neglected and searched for it. It sounded multifaceted, but all of those characters possessed one true color. Night dyed everything in darkness.

After reading about five lines, Juho forcefully closed the book. Even at a glimpse, it was incredibly cringe-worthy and pretentious.

"Why is this so popular anyway?"

---

"Hello," Juho greeted Baron as he walked into the science room.

Keeping his eyes on his book, Baron replied, "You don't have to greet me every time."

His tone was dry. It wasn't a consideration of an upperclassman trying to make the underclassman feel less burdened. It was like a line that had been drawn on the desk. 'It's my turf past this line. Don't you dare cross it.'

At that moment, that big, black upperclassman seemed a bit more innocent. It was the privilege of a child to blatantly put up a wall.

One could draw all the lines they wanted, but the reality of the world was that it was nearly impossible for one to own that solitary land.

"I'll still say hi."

"..."

Without a word, Baron redirected his attention to his book. There was approval in what he had done.

"Everyone seems to be present," Mr. Moon came in last without even bringing his attendance sheet.

"I guess ditching isn't an option," Seo Kwang murmured.

The small number of people was definitely not a plus.

"Everyone brought something to write with and on?"

"Yes, sir."

On a long desk, there were five notebooks. Sun Hwa had a matching notebook to Bom's. They had to have bought it together.

"Good. Technically, today's the official first day. On the first day, I believe self-introduction to be a must."

Sun Hwa let out a short groan. She was direct when it came to expressing her feelings. Bom was sitting next to her, and she didn't appear to be all that excited. Expressing themselves in front of a crowd while being the center of attention was a tall order for most Korean teenagers.

"Could I have one person come out at a time?"

"Mr. Moon, is this necessary? We got pretty close last time."

Everyone agreed with Sun Hwa.

"Not with me."

Sun Hwa stopped talking, as if she had been stricken by her conscience to say that Mr.Moon was part of the circle. At that, like he knew all about it, Mr.Moon nodded.

"This is because you guys don't want to be in front of people, right? Then let's do this. Since we're a Literature Club, let's all write them out?"

"Oh! Yes, please!"

It didn't matter to Juho, but he did feel more comfortable writing, so he quietly agreed. Since nobody had to stand at the front to introduce themselves, everyone took to their pens with pleasure.

"How much do we write?"

"However much you like."

"So, it's OK if I write one line?" Seo Kwang asked playfully.

Mr. Moon responded nonchalantly, "If you can express yourself in one sentence, then be my guest."

"That sounds harder."

Seo Kwang didn't say anything else and immersed himself in his thoughts, 'How should I start? Probably best to start with my name.'

He thought of the most generic self-introduction, 'I am so and so. I'm so many years old. My hobby is reading and listening to music.'

"This could be better."

Seo Kwang went back to the basics. A self-introduction, from its definition, was writing that introduced yourself to another person. Yourself to another person, maybe one could think in reverse and write about things that the other person might want to know about "yourself."

'What would Mr. Moon want to know about me? My grades? Maybe my writing skills since this is the Literature Club.' By that point, Seo Kwang quietly asked himself, 'Are you good at writing?' There was only one answer: 'I don't know either.'

Seo Kwang sighed. How could he introduce himself when he didn't even know himself?

"My ego hasn't been fully formed."

"You went that far with the self-introduction?" Juho asked with a smile.

Seo Kwang glimpsed at Juho's note. It was blank, just like his own. How was he so calm?

"I don't know myself, so how can YOU know ME?"

"I thought this was supposed to a self-introduction, but you seem like you're more on the self-realization side. Good for you."

Seo Kwang explained his stream of consciousness to Juho, "What if you write 'I know nothing about myself.'?"

"I'd sound like a rebel."

"It's true though."

"Hm," Seo Kwang contemplated it. He didn't fully agree with Juho because he knew Juho wasn't right.

"I mean, I know something."

Juho shrugged his shoulder as if he weren't seeing a problem.

"Then you should write about what you do know."

"Ah!" Seo Kwang exclaimed. It felt like he had finally figured out where things had gone wrong. He decided to be honest. When he focused on what others might want to know about him, he couldn't write a single word. 'Juho, this guy, maybe he knew it all along.'

Juho was resting his jaw on his hand, staring off into thin air. His page was still empty. Maybe he didn't really know.

"You put a lot of thought into this."

"What the... Why are you eavesdropping?"

"It's not like I'm not sitting right next to you. No wonder you can't write anything. Draw a line so that something comes out."

"Aha! So, that's how you ended up with eraser dust everywhere. Can you stop blowing it on me?"

There was about a third of a page worth of writing in Sun Hwa's notebook. It was surrounded by eraser dust. When Seo Kwang blatantly moved the dust away, Sun Hwa glared at him. He wasn't backing out either.

"At least I wrote something, unlike somebody."

"Juho's page is blank too, you know."

"Look to your side."

Seo Kwang looked to where Sun Hwa was pointing. In no time, his notebook had been filled about a third way.

"What the, when did you write all that?"

"When you were busy talking," Juho responded as he kept moving his pen. Feeling a sense of urgency, Seo Kwang stopped his quarrel with Sun Hwa and started writing in a hurry.

The End

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8 Chapter 8 - Smelly-Grilled Mackerel

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

"Take care of yourself."

"Alright, be safe."

Mr. Moon sent the students away and stayed behind, in the science room, on his own. There were five notebooks piled up on the desk, all submitted by the members. They were new and spotless.

He opened the notebook on the top of the pile. It was the time to listen to the voices of his young pupils.

'My name is Sun Hwa Ahn. I'm 17 years old, and my blood type is B. I'm maintaining my grades at a higher tier, and my hobby is reading comic books. I enjoy comics. The reason why I joined the Literature Club instead of the Comic Club is that the Comic Club at our school is not a genuine club.'

From that point on, Sun Hwa wrote at good length on her complaints toward the school's club management. Wasn't it supposed to be a self-introduction?

About half of what she wrote was about comics. When it came to the things she liked, they were described in great detail.

'I hope you can view me as a bright and healthy student! Thank you Mr. Moon!"

She was straightforward to the end. She had the courage to speak up about the things she liked. Mr. Moon was able to immediately picture Sun Hwa. Considering how it painted a fairly accurate picture of herself, that had been a decent self-introduction.

He picked up the second notebook. It was a similar notebook to Sun Hwa's, and it wasn't hard to guess who it belonged to.

'My name is Bom Yoon. I'm 17, and my blood type is A. My hobby is reading. I like both comics and literature. I joined the Literature Club at the suggestion of a friend. Everyone here seems to have distinct personalities, so I look forward to being part of this club. Thank you Mr. Moon.'

That was it. There were traces of her erasing in the blank space. Timid and a woman of few words, it seemed like she was still working on introducing herself. Despite the length, it was easy to identify her characteristics. She was complimenting a group of people around her when she had barely met them. Her style was similar to Sun Hwa's. Her self-introduction was focused more on the others than herself.

Perhaps she's sensitive to her surroundings.

After some thought, Mr. Moon moved onto the next notebook. The name Seo Kwang Kim was visible.

'To Mr. Moon.

This is Seo Kwang Kim. I've chosen the Literature Club as my first club after coming up to high school. The reason why I didn't choose another club that could potentially look better on my school record is simply because I'm not interested in getting good grades. Nobody enjoys studying, but I seriously despise being forced to do something.

My parents call me immature. They say that I'm going to regret this in the future, but I know for a fact that regret isn't going to be the only sentiment I feel when I look back to this moment.

I love books. That's the reason why I joined the Literature Club. The first time I came to like books was the moment I shed a tear onto the page of a book. I've cried reading a book in the past. It was an amazing experience. Although I wasn't listening to beautiful music or was able to see gorgeous colors, I was being moved from deep within.'

Mr. Moon related to Seo Kwang's statement. You could never forget the moment of being moved by that thing called a book. Many people kept crying and laughing from stories left by great storytellers. A person could grow solely through that.

Seo Kwang described himself at the end in a single line, 'Your pupil who's in love with all of the stories in this world, Seo Kwang Kim.'

Next was Baron. When that kid showed up to the staffroom for the first time, Mr. Moon was honestly shocked.

"I want to draw."

Mr. Moon replied, "I'm a literature teacher."

Then, Baron answered, "I'm aware."

'Who would've thought a rebel could be so polite?' Mr.Moon quickly gave him permission. 'It was good to have at least one person around who liked to go against the flow. Others could find that a motivation to write.'

What kind of things would a artist pupil of a literature teacher draw?

Mr. Moon opened the sketchbook and smiled with satisfaction. It was a very familiar drawing, a bird in a white background. It immediately reminded him of a book cover, and he felt a small bit of relief. After reading that book, he had to feel something, whatever that might be.

Mr. Moon picked up the last notebook, Juho Woo's. That kid was hard to read. He seemed innocent, but on the other hand, mature. He appeared to have a floaty kind of personality, but at the same time, he blended well with others. It was hard to tell if he was calm or just absent-minded.

'Maybe his introduction will tell me.'

He turned the page.

"Oh man, this kid."

Could that be better described as brilliant or off the wall? Mr. Moon chuckled at the title written on the first sentence.

'About Grilled Mackerel.

Mackerel is referred to as the blue fish. Its clean, buttery-tasting meat is worthy of being called "the porkbelly of the sea." If the fish is of high quality, all it needs is a little salt. Otherwise, it will require a bit of trimming. This is to eliminate the fishy smell.

Prepare some rice water or water with a little bit of soybean paste. Soak the fish for about ten minutes, then wash it in running water. The odor will disappear. If you add lemon or finely ground daikon radish and soy sauce, the fish becomes a delicacy.

I'm always eating grilled mackerel that's been tidily prepared. Only, my father is not fond of that.

He dislikes the fact that the human hand is extinguishing even the essence of the ocean. Even if it were the fishiest smelling mackerel, he says that he prefers that over the mackerel that's been prepared to people's liking.

Standing next my father longing for the lost essence of the fish, I find myself subconsciously picturing him when he was full of the fragrance of life.

With a hope of having grilled mackerel for dinner tonight, I now bring this composition to an end.'

"Grilled Mackerel."

'I like it.' Mr. Moon read Juho's writing again. It was flawless as a self-introduction.

"I wouldn't have know. This kid is very interesting. Are kids good at writing by default nowadays?" Murmured Mr. Moon as he thought of a young author in his head.

---

As Juho read in his room, he heard the front door opening. His mother was home.

"Welcome back."

"You must be hungry. I'll grill some mackerel."

"Sure."

Juho felt awkward about speaking to his parents in casual language. For some time, he had been speaking to them properly. His parents were thinking that their son had grown up after moving up to high school.

"What about father?"

"He must be busy at work. He said he'll be late."

His mother took off her work clothes and immediately started cooking in the kitchen. As soon as she walked into the kitchen, there was vigor in the house. Rustling, the sound of chopping, smell of fish… All those came together and transformed into a mouth-watering smell. With hands of experience, she had quickly filled the dinner table. She hadn't been doing that for mere a day or two. It was precise, and skillful. All Juho could do was to place the utensils on the table or scooping rice into the bowls.

"Thank you for the food."

Juho took some the white mackerel meat from the plate and put it in his mouth. The meat was just buttery enough, giving it a smooth texture. It was perfectly combined with rice. He felt like he could eat an entire bowl just with the mackerel.

"Is everything OK at school?"

"Of course."

"Has there been anything interesting lately?"

As usual, she calmly asked about her son's day. Naturally, Juho told his mother about what had happened that day. It was mostly about what he had talked about with his friends or funny things his teachers had said. When it came to the club activity in the science room, Juho only picked things that his mother might laugh at. In response, Juho's mother started sharing about her day and the things that happened between the neighbors.

"It's impossible to have a conversation with that lady. It's like she's from another dimension."

"Is that right?"

"Yeah! She even talks like a baby."

Then, she impersonated the lady's speech. Her lisp was rather funny. After they had finished talking, she added these words as always, "There are things that should stay within the family. Just because I said what I said, you can't be going around telling your friends. You know what I mean?"

"I understand."

Her concern for her son was habitual. After cleaning up, she cut up some persimmons. They were sweet and pleasant. After Juho took a bite from a soft piece of persimmon, his mother asked, "How are you feeling these days?"

To that unexpected question, Juho asked back, "What do you mean?"

"You're famous now. Your books are selling well. Are you excited?"

Juho's mother said it playfully, but Juho wasn't that naive. He sensed concern behind her words. It had to be something about her son becoming arrogant from the unexpected success. There had been moments like that in the past. His mother would carefully ask Juho a question after dinner, and back then, her immature son found her concern to be a hassle.

His parents had to have been caught off guard by their son's success. They probably weren't sure of how to raise him properly in such a situation. Coming to think of it, Juho's parents had always done their best to encourage him. He was solely responsible for neglecting their words and choosing not to listen. A child was not some creature that grew according to how its parents raised it. The reason Juho's life came to such an end was because of his choices.

"It is exciting."

"Still, you know that you shouldn't be too excited, right? Things could fall apart at any moment."

"I know. That's why I've been putting all my money into the savings account."

"Great, that's my son! You're the spice of my life."

Juho reassured his mother, and for the first time in a while, he spent time with her in front of a TV.

"Honey, the mackerel is too fishy. Do we have any lemon?"

"It's a fish. It's supposed to smell like that. We don't have any, so you'll just have to eat it."

Coming in late from work, Juho's father had to get an earful from his wife after complaining about the mackerel.

---

"Hey, play a different song. Something exciting."

"Got it."

The music filled the classroom. It had been a trend to listen to music during recess using the computer in the classroom. The song selection usually varied depending on who was sitting in front of the podium, but it was generally pop.

The class president held the mouse today, and unlike other days, he played a music video of a foreign pop singer. Seeing the sexy dance moves, the boys cheered and whistled. Even the girls joined in. 'Take me.' The sound of laughter mingled with the music.

While bobbing his head to the intro of the song, Juho realized that he felt like the lyrics were being translated simultaneously and focused on listening.

"Why do you look so serious listening to a song?"

"I had something to think about."

While he enjoyed the song, Seo Kwang saw Juho with a serious face and laughed. Juho paid no attention and kept listening. After testing himself for several days, Juho realized that his head was able to translate any language after some time. It wasn't just English.

Click.

The phenomenon began with a sound that rang out in Juho's head. It was bizarre. He remembered seeing some five or seven year old prodigies on TV. Those kids learned several languages on their own and shocked the adults around them. Were those kids learning languages by using the same ability as Juho?

"Hey, there's something going on outside," Seo Kwang said with his eyes fixed on the hallway.

"Huh?"

By the time Juho had stopped thinking and reconnected with reality, there was a sharp scream. The music stopped, and the kids came out of their class one by one. Seo Kwang and Juho also left their seats to see what was happening. Kids who were walking on the hallway stopped and approached the scene. There was nothing at the center of the crowd standing in a circle.

"What's going on?"

"I can't really see."

The kids closed in to get a better look. All of a sudden, the circle broke apart and split open like Moses splitting the red sea. There were screams occasionally. It was neither a god, nor a person that walked through the opening of the crowd. It was a centipede, with more legs than anyone could count.

"Oh, my! It's huge!"

"That is so gross!"

"Somebody, kill it."

The centipede was busy moving around between the kids' feet. From the centipede's perspective, that group of kids probably had more legs. The centipede had to have probably realized it by now,

'I shouldn't have come here.'

Due to the school being close to a mountain, Juho heard a teacher saying that centipedes were a common find. The first years were on a high alert because a centipede had appeared before them. The school being in Seoul, most kids probably weren't used to seeing centipedes right in front of their eyes.

"It might be poisonous."

Squirming what looked like either a head or tail, the centipede came closer. It was a threat. That thing was dangerous.

"Let's kill it!"

The End

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The Great Storyteller

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9 Chapter 9 - Charades

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

"Somebody use your slipper to kill it! This is the chance to be hero!"

"Ahh! I'm scared!"

"Somebody kill it!"

Sensing hostility from the humans, the centipede moved about all the more busily. Only, it was headed in a bad direction. The students ran away screaming while its countless legs moved restlessly. The standoff continued at a distance. The hallway was growing increasingly chaotic.

"Move."

At that moment, one of the students took off his slipper and started walking toward the centipede. Others who appeared to be his friends gave him an exaggerated cheer. There was playfulness in the boy holding the slipper in his hand. Without hesitating, he approached the centipede and raised his hand up. Underneath him was the centipede.

Juho reached out to stop him.

"Wait!"

The voice didn't belong to Juho's. At that slightly awkward, yet resounding voice, the boy stopped what he was doing. The others stopped talking.

It was the foreign teacher. He was known as James. His Korean was still awkward. Many students trembled with anxiety that he might try to strike a conversation with them. To those students, English was a much greater fear than a mere centipede.

Seeing the crowd of students on the first years' floor on his way to prepare for class, James approached them. Flustered, the boy holding the slipper was struggling for words. Others who had been cheering and those who had been screaming were all staring at that, tall foreigner of a teacher. They hoped somebody would give him an explanation.

Unaware of the students' heart, James spoke without hesitation. Of course, in English.

"Oh, my! There's a centipede here. I have an idea of what the situation is. This is a rather threatening presence for the adorable first years. But we must not forget the fact that we're all part of nature. A slipper is not a tool for murder. It's an object that protects your feet. Now, let your slipper serve its purpose."

Surprisingly, the student understood and placed his slipper back onto his foot. Of course, it wasn't because he was fluent in English. As he backed out, he spoke to one of the students who had been cheering for him.

"That was lit! I just understood everything he was saying!"

Body language was rather universal. James' body language communicated his thoughts with an admirable result. With such an amazing communication method, his lack of fluency in Korean didn't seem to be an issue.

"Somebody bring me a dustpan and a broom. I'll take the centipede out."

At James acted out using a broom, the students looked at each other. "Who wants to go get it?" As big of a crowd as it was, nobody wanted go.

As he watched, Juho went into the class and grabbed a broom and a dustpan out of the cleaning supply closet.

"Thank you."

With care, James placed the dustpan in the centipede's path. It took interest in the orange plastic, and crawled right into it. James waited until its long body had thoroughly made its way into the pan, then said proudly to the students around, "Please go back to your classes. You should rest during recess."

Even with a dustpan with the centipede in it, James' gestures made sense to the students. The crowd disbanded, and they all went their separate ways.

"Aren't you going?"

"I'm getting the broom and the dustpan back. You go back and enjoy the rest of the music."

"OK. Have fun!"

After sending Seo Kwang back, Juho walked alongside James. With a puzzled expression on his face, James asked him, "Is there a problem?"

"The broom and the dustpan in your hands belong to our class, so I wanted to take it back. I wanted to see the centipede returning to nature too."

James seemed surprised for moment, but hearing his native language for the first time in a while, he replied with gladness.

"Your English is really good. I'm surprised. Do you have any friends who are foreigners?"

Juho thought of Baron for a brief moment, but he was more fluent in Korean than English. Besides, they hardly talked to each other.

"No."

"Or maybe you're from another country yourself. Are you an exchange student?"

"No way."

"Are you mixed?"

"No. I've never been to another country."

James groaned at Juho's answers to his questions, even predicting his next question. He thought briefly and continued, "Then there must have been an opportunity in your life I'm not aware of," he said confidently.

Juho's language acquisition route had been slightly different from the norm. After some consideration, Juho replied, "I somehow found myself like this."

At his vague answer, James laughed heartily. He seemed to be thinking that Juho had a secret that he was too shy to talk about. If that was the case, then that was a big plus for Juho, and he quietly swallowed his explanations. As James laughed, his hands moved left and right, which meant the centipede in the dustpan was being tossed around. It didn't seem like it was a comfortable ride for the centipede.

At the school's backyard, James swung his arms like a discus thrower. The centipede flew through the air and landed on a leaf. After observing its surroundings, it went on its way. 'I hope it doesn't get lost this time.'

After looking at the centipede for a while, James suddenly started talking, "You can learn a language rather quickly given the opportunity. The reason why our students struggle so much with English is because they're not given the opportunity. Without it, there's no drive, and the process only becomes painful."

Writing out dictation out of concern for a grade or the future was just exhausting. Learning was not the result.

"A classroom is not where you start. You have to go out and find that opportunity. Only then, you can learn a language. That's the start. It honestly doesn't feel real to me that I'm teaching English to these students. It kind of feels like you're watering a dying plant with wine instead of water."

That was a rather uncommon analogy. His body language seemed to be easier to understand, so Juho asked light-heartedly, "So, is your Korean awkward because you weren't given the opportunity?"

"Haha, that is correct. I'm still looking for an opportunity to learn. I'm also single." Then, James added playfully, "Do you know any women? Introduce me to them."

'Is he asking a student about introducing him to women? This school somehow has a number of teachers who don't act like they're teachers.'

"I may be fluent enough in English to not require further education in the subject, but I'm still a student."

"Huh!? So you didn't learn English because you were into foreign women? At that age, the interest toward the opposite gender tends to be more intense. I went out a lot too when I was in school."

Somehow, James appeared to be filled with confidence as he reminisced about his past. Juho's father would make a similar face at times. Everyone's memory tended to beautify itself, both natives or foreigners alike.

"Thanks for lending me these. I'll see you in class."

James handed the broom and the dustpan back to Juho and went into a classroom at the opposite side of the building. He was a pleasant person, a master of body language, and lover of nature. Juho thought about the kind of story that would come out with James as the protagonist, 'It'd probably have a feel of a rowdy street concert with cheerful melodies and cymbals that were particularly loud.'

"Aren't you determined."

Sun Hwa had been the first to act on the mission given to the club members, the mission of getting a writing sample out of Baron. Accompanied by Bom, she came to Juho's class and said, "I'm going to try talking to Baron today. Don't stop me."

"I'm not going to. Do you have a plan though?"

"Of course! I may not look like it, but I can afford to be comfortable with my grades. I'm a thinker."

"Don't you mean you just gave up on your grades?"

Sun Hwa glared at Seo Kwang as he sneered at her. Bom spoke up in midst of the staring contest, "Sun Hwa has really good grades. Even in middle school, she was in top ten in the entire school. She's works really hard."

"You hear that?"

"Huh! I'm surprised you even have time to study when you read so many comics."

"Everything's a balance. I'm a woman of wisdom, so it's a piece of cake for me to hit two rabbits with one stone."

"At the very least, I can see that you lack humility."

Juho spoke up to put the conversation back on track, "So how are you going to approach Baron?"

As if she was waiting for that, Sun Hwa replied with a smile, "Head on."

"I thought you said you were a thinker?"

Bom laughed nervously at Seo Kwang's remark. She seemed to be struggling to think of words to vouch for her friend. Considering her demeanor so far, it suited her.

Regardless of grades, there was no hesitation in the way Sun Hwa treated people. One could argue that the depth of a relationship wasn't proportionate to time, but with the exception of Baron, everyone in the Literature Club had grown very close to each other almost instantly. That was partly due to Sun Hwa's proactivity. Seo Kwang appeared to be social, but he's had a cautious and watchful side. Bom didn't speak much or act on things proactively. In other words, Sun Hwa was basically the captain.

"What good is a strategy when you're trying to win someone over? If your heart connects with that person, you can relate with them about anything."

"OK, so let's say that what you're saying is true. How are you going to connect your heart with Baron?"

In response to Seo Kwang, Sun Hwa took out a book. There was a drawing of a hill on the cover. Covered in dirt, the five characters from the book were climbing that very hill. They generally gave off a pleasant impression.

"This comic is all that it takes to connect with a person heart-to-heart. You would know, Seo Kwang. A book has the power to move people's hearts."

"So, a book. Guess I don't have a choice. I'll be rooting for you."

Before they knew, their hearts were connecting. It would have been ideal if things played out like they had done between those two, but how would Baron respond?

Like a captain, Sun Hwa ran up to the second years' floor. The other three followed.

Bothered by Sun Hwa asking him to come out, Baron walked out into the hallway. Bom looked at Sun Hwa, looking even more nervous than her friend. Seo Kwang and Juho observed with fascination.

"Baron."

"What?" he blurted out a short reply.

As if she had been expecting it, Sun Hwa continued, "Would you write me something?"

Straight to the point. There was no beating around the bush to keep him happy. She stood tall and confidently before Baron. It was admirable. Having that kind of side to her, perhaps Sun Hwa was the toughest one in the club. With that spirit, she was worthy of being a general.

As if she were putting down her sword, Sun hwa pulled out her comic book.

"This was the comic that moved me the most my entire life. When you read this, you'll find yourself getting filled with companionship. I guarantee it. If you write about how deeply you've been moved, you'd be able to write at least ten pages. Baron, please by my companion."

Bom turned pale. As if she didn't see that, Sun Hwa was confident. 'How would this plan work? Would it bring down Baron's wall?'

Appearing dumbfounded, Baron smirked, "No."

"Oh, come on!"

The two began quarreling. It was an argument between Sun Hwa trying to get Baron to take her book, and Baron rejecting her. He seemed to be caught off guard by how proactive Sun Hwa had been. It was visible that Baron didn't know what to do. He was not used to such an initiative. Perhaps that was going to work after all.

"Baron, the bell's about to ring. I have to go soon. Please, take it."

"I said I don't need it. Just go already."

"If you read this book, you'll be shedding tears before you know it, and your writing will practically write itself. You're going to want to find a companion and go on an adventure. Then, come find me in class."

"I don't know where your class is, and I'm not planning on going there. Not to mention, I'm not writing anything."

"Fine. Please just take the book then. Just the book."

The two kept on quarreling, but even until the end, Baron didn't take the Sun Hwa's book.

The End

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10 Chapter 10 - Inside of a Pouch 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

Some people would've taken the book if things had risen to such a degree, but Baron was quite stubborn. Of course, it made sense considering that he had joined the Literature Club to draw.

Sun Hwa watched him as he went back inside without regrets. She cringed and pouted her lips.

"He's playing hard-to-get. It doesn't hurt anyone to write anything for someone."

"Don't be too disappointed," Bom encouraged her. As if she had been waiting, Sun Hwa nodded.

"You're right. This ain't over yet."

She was determined. Standing a few steps away from where Baron was, Seo Kwang said with a serious face, "I didn't think he'd turn her down. He's cold."

"Seriously. I suppose the head-to-head strategy is a fail."

"What?! Are you saying that we have to win him over?"

"I'm not sure."

There wasn't much information on Baron. The strategy had been a fail, but seeing how Sun Hwa wasn't about to give up anytime soon, things were unclear at that point. Sun Hwa was willing to tackle things head on until the end. 'Besides, who knows?'

"Let's go back to class for now."

The first years went their separate ways before the bell. That was the last recess, when they could rest peacefully.

Sun Hwa ran up the stairs in every recess. She was persistent about talking to Baron. Because of that, the rest of the club members had to follow her around.

"Hello, Baron."

"Hey."

"Please write me something while you're at it."

"Go."

Or...

"Baron, where you going?"

"To the restroom."

"Then, could you write me something there?"

"No."

Or...

"Baron, do you know what's for lunch?"

"I don't know."

"I knew you wouldn't, so I looked into it. It's rice curry. It'd be great if you could write me a review after…"

"I'm not eating."

Still, she didn't give up.

"Baron, how's this class?"

"So-so."

"I'm concerned about my future. Could you write me something encouraging?"

"You worry about your own future."

Although Baron answered awkwardly at first, having a visitor between every class was quickly getting old. As he walked out of the restroom, Sun Hwa asked, "How was your number two, Baron?"

"...It was number one."

"Is that so? I brought a book in case you get bored while you're on the toilet."

"I said it was number one! I don't need that either," Baron answered her looking fed up.

The three who had been following Sun Hwa spoke up tiredly, "Is there anything she won't say?"

"That's Sun Hwa for you."

"Yeah…" Bom answered quietly with her head lowered, as if she was embarrassed.

Things were getting physical. Whenever there was a chance, Sun Hwa walked up the stairs to look for Baron. She wasn't even having long conversations with him, a few exchanges at most.

To get Baron's answer, she moved tirelessly.

"Admirable," the three murmured.

Both of Sun Hwa and Baron were incredible. They could probably do anything they wanted with such persistence. On top of that, seeing how Baron was resisting Sun Hwa, there was no way that he would end up having to co-sign anything by force in the future.

The quarrel between the two lasted until after school and well into club activities. Baron rejected her until the end.

With the exception of Baron, the four headed to the science room and leaned against the desk. When was the last time they had to go up and down stairs like that? They were exhausted.

"Recklessness won't work."

"What do you mean recklessness? We'll connect eventually."

'Does she ever get tired?' She was still saying the same things, and Juho responded with a weak voice, "I can't do this much longer."

"Me neither. Baron's actually kind of patient. I would have driven Sun Hwa out if I were him."

"At least he's not the violent type."

"More like Buddha."

"Are you guys talking behind my back right now?"

"Calm down, Sun Hwa."

What stopped her wasn't Bom, but Mr. Moon and Baron's sudden appearance.

"Are you guys coming from P.E? Why do you all look so tired?"

The members couldn't deny those words.

"We'll be officially starting our activities today."

"Yes, sir."

"What do you think we're going to be doing?"

That was an unexpected question.

"Whatever we have to do today."

At Seo Kwang's answer, Mr.Moon nodded lightly. They were going to be doing what they needed to do that day. What could that be?

"What do you think I was referring to?"

As soon as she heard the question, Sun Hwa remembered the principal's speech at the beginning of every semester. They were all about attitude or state of mind. She raised her hand and replied, "A pure, unadulterated heart."

Without hesitation, Mr. Moon made a 'X' with his hands.

"All of our hearts have already been attacked by microscopic dust. Next," he said it refreshingly. It would have felt like fresh air to people who had been breathing polluted air.

'How can he say things like that to his students?'

Sun Hwa pouted her lips, not knowing if she was wrong or if she was offended by Mr. Moon's answer. Next was Seo Kwang. His answer wasn't all that different from Sun Hwa's, "How about basic endurance? The P.E teacher always says that we need to work on our endurance."

"I don't expect endurance from kids who get less activity time than prisoners. Next."

"Wow! Really?! Do we get less sunlight than prisoners do?"

"That was a bit harsh," Seo Kwang murmured. He was a growing teenager who would soon be taking on the burdens of the future of the country. The prisoners were burdened by their crimes, but it was hard to tell who was actually being punished at that point.

"I'm not sure. What could it be?"

"It's not body or the mind… What else is there?"

Bom and Sun Hwa exchanged words as they contemplated on the answer. It didn't seem like it was coming to them. Juho was watching Seo Kwang complaining about the harsh reality of the moment. In that moment, his eyes met with Mr. Moon's.

"What do you think the answer is?" asked Mr. Moon.

That was the first official day of club activities, so Juho stared into the ceiling for a little while and asked, "We're going to be writing, right?"

"Yes."

"You need a good vocabulary if you are to write."

"So?"

"That must mean we have to know our lexemes."

Mr. Moon made a big circle with his hands.

"Ding, ding, ding!"

It was the most lifeless sound effect. Perhaps for that reason, even after finding out the answer, they weren't all that excited. Sun Hwa and Seo Kwang had a moment of realization and exclaimed, "Aha!"

"The answer's simpler than I thought."

"The thing that's really important when you write is vocabulary."

Mr. Moon opened his hands. At the end of them was Seo Kwang.

"What do you think about when you can't think of a word?"

"Eh? What do I think about? Um… I think… that I can't think of anything?"

"Not exactly wrong, but not exactly what I'm looking for either."

Next, Mr. Moon pointed to Bom. Slightly flustered, she continued, "Um… So… I think that it would be nice if the word I'm looking is written down somewhere… Because it feels like it's not in my head."

Her voice was growing timid, but Mr.Moon nodded.

"That's right. There's the answer I've been looking for. We look around when we can't think of a word. That is a subconscious act which assumes that the word we're looking for can be found in our surroundings. Therefore!" he emphasized the last word, accentuating his point. "We take the words that are rolling around out there and make them ours."

Those were interesting words. Everyone seemed to be half-curious and half-concerned. For now, Baron was also listening to Mr. Moon.

"You each own a pouch."

"A pouch? We don't have a pouch."

After Seo Kwang's answered, Mr. Moon dropped his head as if the fun was spoiled.

"Use your imagination and come up with an answer. You're all part of the Literature Club, where it's all about creativity."

Mr. Moon was making a ridiculous demand.

"This so-called vocabulary pouch. In there, you'll find words that you use often, whereas there won't be any words that you don't use. As a starting point, an author should know a vast number of synonyms. Imagine filling up that skinny pouch of yours with words. Filling up that pouch until it's about to explode is the quickest way to develop your vocabulary. Prepare for the winter that's about to come in your heads. This is to prepare for the 'food shortage.'"

'Food Shortage, huh?! Interesting choice of words.' Running out words as an author was definitely a nightmare. It was like having to starve to death in a winter that came without notice. Juho had never struggled to think of a particular word, but he did possess an unusual fear. He was afraid of using up all the words that he kept inside of him. It was not a pleasant thought.

Mr. Moon continued to give out instructions.

"From now on, you guys have try to recall words. Keep them in your mouths and clasp them in your hand.

"But words are not physical beings."

"And that's a good thing. Biting and sucking on something alive is the quickest way to get arrested. Thankfully, words, as they explain themselves, mean words. They may not be physical, but you'll find them everywhere."

Mr. Moon spun his hand around and pointed to his surroundings.

"It's not overstatement to say that the world you're currently living in is made of words. House. Car. Drink. Money."

As expected, he was blurting out things that a student wouldn't be able to understand. 'Underage drinking is illegal, Mr. Moon,' thought Juho.

"Same goes for this room."

"Now that you mention it, I think I'm slowly coming to grasp of it all. It feels like this room is shrinking as if it weren't real. It's like magic," Seo Kwang said it light-heartedly.

That storage room called a science room was full of things that weren't used in a regular basis. Naming those things alone would bring in quite a few words.

"See, speak, listen and write. Interpret. It's not a bad idea to refer to a dictionary and create an example using words. You could always cite a phrase that you may have walked by or from a book. You have plenty of pieces of paper. Fill them up all the way. Be affectionate."

The more difficult the instructions became, the darker their expressions grew.

Mr. Moon encouraged his students, "Let's try getting the words out our mouths. Say them with your lips, write them down and then organize them. Write them on the piece of paper you brought, including the words that other people found. You can interpret them on your own later. Let's start with Sun Hwa."

"Yes, sir."

Sun Hwa stood up courageously. She seemed confident. As she looked around preparing, Mr. Moon brought a stopwatch and showed it to her.

"Say as many words as you can in two minutes. Since it's your first time, I'll set a limit. Say anything you can find in this room."

"I'm ready. Whenever you are."

It was her first time, but it didn't seem all that challenging. If the limit was the things that one could find in the room, she could simply say what she saw.

"And… begin!"

Sun Hwa started swiftly. Her eyes met Seo Kwang's, who was sitting across from her.

"Seo Kwang, Juho, Bom, Baron, Sun Hwa."

"We're words too?"

"Proper nouns. Stop disrupting me. Eyes, nose, mouth, ears, forehead, hair, shoulders, chest, torso, arms, legs."

Sun Hwa answered Seo Kwang quickly and named the things that she could find in the room one by one.

"Door, windows, desks, chairs, counter, mannequin, wall, poster, globe, earthquake model, storage, earth, dinosaur bones, um... Then, lab coats, beakers, cellophane, alcohol lamp, cobaltic chloride, filter paper, spuit, plastic syringe, rubber gloves, mask, goggles, microscope, um… What was that called… That weird liquid."

"What's a weird liquid?"

"What was it called?"

Sun Hwa began to stutter. She pointed at a brown glass container with a liquid in it. It was probably for an experiment, but the first years mostly learned about theories, so there was no way they could know. Having decent grades, Sun Hwa must have seen it somewhere, but it seemed like her memory was failing. She could just move on, but she wouldn't give up.

Juho added, "You can just say liquid. It's a word."

"Really? Wait! You're right! Liquid, and..."

She looked around frantically. She had already named most of the things in the room. The hands of the members that were writing her words had also come to stopped. Sun Hwa was getting flustered. She had thought two minutes wouldn't be enough. She could've never known that it would've been too much time. She felt like she had already said everything she could, but she could no longer see the words that filled the room. 'What else was there?' Sun Hwa looked around again. There wasn't going to be anything new. 'Is this it? Barely?' It seemed like a lot. Time was up, and Mr. Moon shouted stop.

The End

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11 Chapter 11 - Inside of a Pouch 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

"OK, time. That was good for a first try. You observed well."

"Yes, sir."

Sun Hwa sighed loudly and collapsed onto her seat. It felt much more exhausting than climbing up and down the stairs. She borrowed Bom's list of words to see what she could've missed, 'What did I miss?'

"You're good at seeing things from a bird's eye-view," Juho said.

Sun Hwa looked at him.

"What do you mean?"

"You see the forest itself rather than the trees."

'Forest?' Sun Hwa checked at the list again. She reflected on the moment she had struggled: that weird liquid, just liquid. She had desperately tried to remember the name of it because she couldn't find any more words. Her mind focused on the details because there was no more information that could be identified from simply looking at the external. She looked around the room again. Just with the lab coat alone there were words like pockets, sleeves and white. Then, she started to see the things that weren't visible moments ago.

"Was I ever bad with details?"

By the time Sun Hwa realized it, the rest of the club members did as well.

"Details are important. Is that the secret? Wouldn't that give a bigger advantage to the person that went after?"

"Oh, yeah! I forgot to tell you, no repeating words."

"What…? Isn't there an advantage for the person who goes first?"

Just as Seo Kwang was contemplating when he should have his turn, Mr. Moon's words made him think even more. While he was busy thinking, Sun Hwa told Bom, "Get this over with, Bom."

"Should I? Mr. Moon, I'll go next."

"Sure."

As if giving up, Seo Kwang quietly raised his fist in front of Juho's eyes. It was an unspoken offer to settle it with a game of rock-paper-scissors. Juho nodded.

"Winner goes last."

"Whatever."

"Rock, paper, scissor!" Seo Kwang played rock, and Juho played paper. Juho won. He was going last. Seo Kwang smiled and made Juho a boastful promise to Juho, "I'll make sure that there's nothing left for you."

'Yeah, yeah. Do your worst,' thought Juho.

The timer started, and Bom seemed slightly nervous. She opened her mouth in a hurry.

"Um, paper, rope, tree, pencil case, cloth, pen, mechanical pencil, lid, handle, rubber, pen tip, spring, ink… and uh, hair tie, scribble, letters, and… and…"

She focused on things that she could find on the desk first: paper and rope from her notebook and tree was from the desk. Bom hastily looked around. She was definitely more detailed than Sun Hwa, but she was tensing up. It made sense considering that there was a time limit. Moreover, the words Sun Hwa had said kept interrupting her thoughts. The same, repeating words danced around in Bom's mouth.

"That… um… uniform, name tag, slipper, stocking, pants, shirts, vast, activewear, buttons, sleeves, pockets, collar, lining, thread, knot, wrinkle, um, um, and…"

She stumbled through to find more words. There were quite a few words coming out of her mouth. There were long gaps in between, but the result wasn't bad at all. Mr. Moon shouted stop, and Bom returned to her seat while calming her breath. There were still remnants of excitement on her face.

"That was good, Bom."

"Oh, it's nothing. I'm kind of embarrassed that I stuttered so much. I didn't even get to look around the room like Sun Hwa did. I must be narrow-visioned."

She waved her hand in denial at Sun Hwa's compliments. 'Bom's approach was definitely more effective than Sun Hwa's,' Seo Kwang thought. 'Seeing how she was pulling out multiple words out of uniform, perhaps we really are overly depend on what we see.'

"My turn."

Without saying a word, Mr. Moon started the timer. Seo Kwang spoke calmly and was not in a hurry. He realized that two minutes was not a short time after watching Sun Hwa and Bom. 'There's plenty of time. No rush'

"Let's see, so, men and women, and...things, object, glass, plastic, letters, sentences, self-introduction, books, bookshelves, title, author, publisher, translator, publish, publish date, edition, issue, cover, paper band, numbers, um, and…"

Seo Kwang thought for a brief moment and continued. Those were words that hadn't been mentioned yet.

"Light, sunlight, dust, microscopic dust, air, breath, respiration, heat, voice, sound, high pitch, low pitch, student, teacher, time, teenager, friend, friendship, courage, hopes and dreams, peace, youth, and…"

Seo Kwang walked over and opened the window. A cool breeze flowed into the room.

"Refreshing wind."

"Wow, such youth," Juho said absent-mindedly. Seo Kwang was blurting out words like friendship, courage and hopes and dreams. It was the fearlessness of youth. Being a fervent reader, he did have a developed sense of language.

"Wow! That made my heart almost move. That acting."

"I know! That was good."

Sun Hwa exaggerated first, although Bom seemed genuinely impressed. Enjoying the responses of the crowd, Seo Kwang made a proud face. At that, Sun Hwa commented, "Yes, you need attention at that age."

"Don't be jealous of my senses."

"I've never been so wronged in my life."

By the time their quarreling died down, Bom spoke quietly, "That was amazing, Seo Kwang."

"You're too kind."

Here was another friend who lacked humility. His arrogance was through the roof. Bom was deeply impressed. Words exist even in unseen places, and Seo Kwang pulled out a fact that Juho had been forgetting. It felt like his vision had widened, so Bom complimented Seo Kwang.

"I didn't even think about that. That was incredible."

"Oh, it was nothing. I am pretty amazing."

"Yeah, you're amazingly shameless," Juho agreed that Seo Kwang was amazing, though in a different way from Bom.

Her anxiety could have been contagious, but he even walked over to the window to open it. 'Did one grow more shameless the more he read?' No, that was just his personality. He was born with it.

"OK. Lastly, Juho's turn," Mr. Moon said.

Seo Kwang went back to his seat.

"It must be hard having to be your turn right after me. Don't feel too burdened, my friend."

"It's exhausting to go after a friend who lacks humility," Juho replied with a smile at Seo Kwang's arrogance.

On the other hand, Sun Hwa, who was not fond of Seo Kwang's arrogance, added while glaring at him fiercely, "Juho, make sure you start off with the word 'ass.'"

"Hm, I was thinking about what other words were left. I'll keep that in mind."

"Where did you find that word?"

"Right here, on your stupid face."

"I see that your words are getting edgier."

"There-there, settle down."

Leaving Bom behind, trying timidly to break up their quarrel, Juho got up from his seat slowly. 'Keep them in your mouths and clasp them in your hand.' The limit was the room, wherever the eye could see. That was probably a trap planted by Mr. Moon. Words were everywhere. Inside, outside, and in between. Seo Kwang did a great job digging in. In search for words, he bravely jumped into the unseen. Mr. Moon's satisfied smile was the evidence of that.

Sun Hwa had revealed her bold personality, and Bom caught even the most minute of details. It almost revealed how they viewed the world. 'What about myself? It's hard to get a feel for something I've never done before. I hope I don't embarrass myself by not being able to say much. No, I'm sure I'll do just as well since I've been observing everyone else,' thought Juho.

Seeing him standing still, Mr. Moon asked, "Are you ready?"

Like everyone else, Juho looked around the room. One by one, familiar sights found their way into Juho's view: Sun Hwa and Bom sitting across from him, Seo Kwang sitting next to him, Mr. Moon sitting while facing the students, and Baron facing Mr. Moon, dying of boredom. Seeing everyone sitting around the rectangular desk, Juho fixed his sight on one spot. His eyes met with Baron's. Without trying to avoid Juho's gaze, Baron stood up from his seat.

Remaining composed even after making an eye contact with an upperclassman, Juho answered with his droopy tone, "I'm ready."

"Ready, begin."

Baron wondered if Juho was going to ask him if he was black. He did make eye contact with the others as they were busy finding words. From the first years' avoidance of eye contact with him, Baron realized that he wasn't the one who was being avoided, but the words that were surrounding him. 'Is he going to say them? Those sensitive words?' thought Baron.

Juho began.

"People, human, humanity, mankind, character, dignity, human being, personality, appearance, life, lifespan, human nature, existence, living being, heart, me, self, ego, id, identity, superego, experience, recognition, past, present, future, talent, prosperity, fall, good news, sad news, exciting news, struggle, joy, tears, smile, resentment, annoyance, attachment, love, favor, endearing, affection, happiness, pain, terror, difficulty, anger, fury, hope, fear, sympathy, heart-struck, chaos, unfamiliarity, inner-person, disgrace, hate, passion, respect, despise, demand, desire, longing, pleasure, displeasure, reminiscence, senses, emotions, sentiment, sensitivity, appreciate, warmth, emotional health, mood, feeling, thoughts, questions, doubt, concern, stage in life, age, opposite-gender, memories, brain, response, expressions, expectation, reliance, determination, striving, economy, main agent, supervision, true nature, subject, center, core, ethics, sexuality, genes, worth, value, mind, body, regulations, beauty, knowledge, intelligence, wisdom, philosophy, act, personality, timidity, bold, indifferent, friendly, mysterious, conservative, progressive, rigidity, coquetry, conflict, hypocrisy, rules, wariness, boundary, distance, language, living, society, relations, location, place, characteristics, individual, choice, decision, interest, thinking, conscience, emotional state, intention, tendencies, wants, wishes, volition, sole."

"Time's up."

There was silence in the room after Mr.Moon's exclamation. A wind blew into the room though the open window, and hairs blew with it.

"Wow."

The air began to flow again at Sun hwa's subconscious marveling. "That was amazing!" "Incredible!" In midst of it all, Baron wasn't able to say a word. He swallowed, breaking out in a cold sweat. Only Baron felt the the look in Juho's eyes as he was tirelessly spewing out words.

There was barrenness. It was a dryness without a single drop of moisture. It was desolate and arid. Juho's eyes were digging away at Baron's heart. They stirred at him relentlessly. There was no mercy. Baron felt a burning sensation on his skin from Juho's gaze. Where the air met the skin, his veins and nerves were exposed, vulnerable to incoming danger. He was on edge. Baron gently rubbed his tense, rigid cheek. There were so many things that could be found in that body.

The End

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12 Chapter 12 - From the Inside

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

"He didn't stutter one bit."

"I lost track."

In shock, Seo Kwang and Bom murmured to each other. Sun Hwa, in awe until a moment ago, frowned in the meantime and replied, "Are you telling me a human can be swarming with that many words? There's something gross about that. You, you're weird too. Don't you think of those things when you look at other people?"

"Not really. I was just focusing on the words."

Sun Hwa was getting annoyed by Juho's cheerful denial. His skill was incomparable to somebody who ended her turn with 'eyes, nose and mouth.' There was such a drastic difference even though they were given the same subject. Juho didn't stop even for a brief moment. There was not one bit of hesitation. From the alien words like id and superego, Sun Hwa was able to feel the vast difference in their vocabularies.

"You have good grades, right?"

"No, not at all."

Recognizing Sun Hwa's expression growing darker every time he answered, Juho went back to his seat, avoiding eye contact with her.

"Who are you?"

"What do you mean?"

Dumbfounded, Seo Kwang looked at Juho.

"How were you able to say that many words?"

"It's nothing. They're things you hear everyday."

"You haven't even been alive for that long," Seo Kwang said boisterously. Then suddenly, he quietly whispered to Juho, "It was nerve wracking."

"What?"

"You were looking at Baron the whole time. I thought you were going to say the word."

"The word?"

Seo Kwang grew impatient and said in an even quieter voice, "Like, black."

"Oh! There just wasn't enough time."

"Time?"

"Yeah. I worked my way out from the inside. It took me a while to come up to the surface. Baron has a lot on his mind."

Seo Kwang was surprised. Black was such an obvious choice. Without intending on belittle Baron, of course. It was not a bad word in and of itself. However, words tend to be sensitive and delicate. It didn't take much for them to turn into something completely different. That was why they needed to be treated with caution.

The second anybody brought up the word, everything froze. The air became uncomfortable. Seo Kwang had never met a black person in his life. Though Baron was technically born from a Korean father and a black mother, he was always identified as black because of his skin color. The school never taught him how to respond to situations like that. They never taught what was polite and what was not. Baron wasn't confident about handling words that he'd never seen or learned before. At Baron's jarring appearance and identity, Seo Kwang did everything within his power to avoid contact with him.

Seo Kwang tried to think of words that described Baron. This time, from the inside out. 'Skin.' It was the first word looking from outside-in, but from an outward perspective, it was the last word to come up. Inner-being, and appearance, Seo Kwang compared the two. When he was getting to know someone, the inner-being of that person was the most important thing and what gave the person significance. He took his favorite book and placed it onto the shelf.

He felt empty. He felt stupid for living in anxiety that entire time. He looked at his notebook. The page was filled with Juho's words. Next to it, Seo Kwang wrote other words. 'Black.' 'Dark.' They felt so insignificant next to Juho's vocabulary. Though Seo Kwang had more to say, he had to stop himself as Mr. Moon began speaking.

"Good job! I assume that this was everyone's first attempt, but I could see that you're all learning. As you saw from Juho, there are always plenty of words you can think of even when you're not supposed to repeat words. Even in this tiny room."

Juho did an excellent job. It had been noticeable from his self-introduction. There was something about him. His vocabulary was impressive, but it wasn't the only thing Mr. Moon had been shocked by.

The room is full of useless things. Considering that it was being used as the school storage room, there were countless random things. Of course, as Seo Kwang had said earlier, there were plenty of unseen words. With Juho's vocabulary, it wouldn't have been too difficult to capture even more words. Among the many candidates, Juho had fixed his eyes on Baron. Also, he ignored the most obvious difference. Mr. Moon glanced over to Juho as he was sat quietly. If he was shrinking the gap between Baron and the rest of the club members with a conscious effort, he would be beyond ordinary.

On the other hand, Baron was surrounded by strange emotions. All Juho did was list words, but his feelings were swaying left and right as if he had been comforted. Because he had already decided to take no interest in the business of the first years, Baron had always thought that he wouldn't be taking the initiative to talk to them. He looked at Juho's calm face. 'Who is this guy?' Baron was tingling with a new curiosity.

"Ah!" Seo Kwang made a curious sound.

Sun Hwa glanced over at him, but Seo Kwang's eyes were on Juho.

"What? Did something get on my face?"

Juho was no different from the usual, but Seo Kwang was convinced of something. 'This guy schemed something similar in the past. This was calculated. It was intentional.'

"You nut job!"

"What's this about all of a sudden?"

Juho felt like he was being falsely accused by his friend, but Seo Kwang didn't mind. He kept at it, "Nut job!"

---

"I've never been to the school library."

"Me neither."

"I've been here before."

With the exception of Seo Kwang, it was everyone's first visit to the school library. They weren't there because they wanted to be. They were at the library because of the mission given by Mr. Moon.

"Each of you will check out one book from the library. There's no criteria, except you must pick a book among the ones you've read."

The interior of the library was visible through the glass entrance. The first thing that could be seen were the books that were on the shelves. Seo Kwang hummed excitedly. The library was about the size of a classroom. It was not a big library, by any means. Still, the library was brimming with books.

As the members walked into the library, they encountered a group of students from the Book Club, reading on their desks. Seeing how they weren't startled by their presence, the Book Club must've already known about the visit.

"You're all from the Literature Club right? Grab what you're looking for and leave quietly."

"You got it."

The Chinese teacher warned them sternly as the Literature Club came into the library. He was not only known as the homeroom teacher for the Book Club, but also for his strictness. With Juho being the only calm individual, the nervous first years quietly walked away from the Chinese teacher as fast as they could. As they blindly followed the tall bookshelves, the members reached the new-release section. Next to it, was a small plastic container. It appeared that students could write out request for their desired books. Inside of a clear plastic container, were only five sheets of paper. They matched the number of Book Club members who happened to be reading in the library.

"They have 'The Trace of a Bird.' They're quick."

"It must have been in high demand."

The book was shelved at the frontmost row.

Sun Hwa asked Seo Kwang as he pulled it out, "Did you pick one already?"

"As a candidate. Why do you ask? I have another book if you need one."

"I told you, I haven't read it yet."

"You still haven't read it? I'm telling you, you won't regret it."

"Meh, whatever. I'll never conform to the trend."

As the voice of the two grew louder, Juho said to them, "The Chinese teacher is looking in our direction."

Their voices shrunk quickly. Juho left Seo Kwang and Sun Hwa behind and moved on to the next isle. It was labeled 'Literature.' Getting a closer look, Juho discovered that the isle was divided into Japanese, Korean and English. His steps came to a halt in front of the Korean section.

'Author: Hyun Do Lim. Title: The Mirror.'

'I didn't know I'd find Hyun Do Lim's work here,' Juho thought. He immediately pulled out the book from the shelf. Hyun Do Lim was one of the authors Juho admired. He was an author who had never ceased to write, even until his death. His last, full-length novel left a deep impression in Juho's heart. It was a book that Juho had purchased with the little money he had left when Juho was living a homeless life. Once he had gotten his hands on the book, Juho read it over and over again.

In other words, that book was an answer sheet to all of the questions in life.

'Yes, this sounds better. This is a better portrayal.' Every single words had been carefully placed with precise calculation by the author. The writing was tenacious, perhaps closer to obsessive. At times, it had made Juho think if it was even possible for him to write in such a way.

Juho pulled out the book and opened it to the first page. Along with his young hand gently brushing down the photo, he saw a face that looked much younger than he remembered.

"He's such a good looking man."

Hyun Do Lim looked much younger than his age. On top of that, he was handsome even to the eyes of other men. His name would always come up when discussing good-looking authors. When all the authors his age had retired and were no longer writing, Hyun Do Lim never put down his pen.

"Did you pick one?"

"Not yet."

Seo Kwang asked Juho, peeking his head through an opening between the shelves. As Juho was about to place the book back, he came to a sudden halt. 'Actually, this might be the one. I enjoyed 'The Mirror' quite a bit,' thought Juho.

"I'm going with this one."

Juho heard Seo Kwang approach him from the English Literature section. In his hand, there was a book by a world-renowned author, Kelly Coin, called 'Witch Hunt.' It was her debut work before she became famous. 'I didn't think I'd find books like that in the library. I should have come here more often,' thought Juho. Then he added, "That's much better than 'The Trace of a Bird.'"

"I disagree. I think it's impossible to compare the two. Except..."

Then, Seo Kwang suddenly hardened his expression.

"What is it?"

"Did you really think that I'd be so quick to pick a book by an author my age? Even as a fellow writer?"

Then, he put 'The Trace of a Bird' back into the shelf. A book made it back to the shelf through a person's hand, and Juho watched. He had never witnessed such a scene. No person had ever picked up Juho's book at a bookstore and put them back down. Actually, there must have been other people. It must have been that he just never witnessed it in person.

Juho smirked. He didn't think that there had been any remnant of such feeling in his heart. Ever so slightly, Juho felt upset, perhaps even a little hurt.

Having chosen a book in no time, Sun Hwa told Seo Kwang while sneering at him, "The author isn't even aware of your existence, you know."

"He doesn't have to be. I don't know who he is either," he quickly fired back at her.

Of course, she wasn't the type to give up. Right as she was about to speak, Bom approached her from behind, "Sun Hwa, what do think it'd be a better choice between these two books?"

"Huh?"

Bom questioned Sun Hwa while holding a book in each hand. Both books were included in a literature compilation book from the same publishing company.

"I've only read the book on the left."

"Did you?"

As soon as she got an answer from Sun Hwa, Bom walked over to the other side of the bookshelf. Then, she returned momentarily with another book. It was the book Sun Hwa had mentioned.

"Should we head out?"

"We'll be checking these out."

With his usual stern expression, the Chinese teacher quietly checked out the books for the first years. As he returned each of the books to them, he emphasized, "Treat them with care. You're not the only ones reading them."

"Yes, sir!" the first years answered him bravely and returned to the science room.

"The Chinese teacher didn't seem all that scary after all," said Bom.

"I've never met anyone who treats their books with respect when he's a jerk," Seo Kwang answered her joyfully.

At that moment, it was almost impossible to tell whether he was the same fearful person who had avoided joining the Book Club because of the teacher in charge. Sun Hwa and Juho both agreed.

Juho looked at the book he had in his hand. It was very well taken care of.

The stern Chinese teacher didn't feel as intimidating as he used to feel.

The End

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13 Chapter 13 - A Clue Regarding an Identity

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

When the first years returned from the library, there was a small change in the science room. Next to Mr. Moon, was a mound of crumpled up graph-like paper that came up to his calves.

"We're the Literature Club for god's sake. We should at least be writing on Korean manuscript paper."

Mr. Moon distributed the sheets of paper to each member. Juho saw the red squared on the paper in front of him and thought, 'It's been a while.'

"You all know the writing format for this paper, right?"

"Just barely."

"That's true. It's really tricky to understand, especially when writing a citation page."

The kids were staring at their sheets of paper as if they had never seen them before. Mr. Moon encouraged them and began to explain things, "What do you think the reason is for leaving the first square blank when starting a paragraph?"

He stopped for a brief moment and went on to answer his own question, "So, it looks neat."

The kids appeared unsatisfied with Mr. Moon's answer.

"A piece of writing exists to be read. Moving down a line when starting a new paragraph or dialogue is for this very purpose. It enables the readers to read more comfortably. If everything was stuck together back to back, it'd be impossible to read. So, you switch over to the next line and skip a square. Then, what do you think you should do when the dialogic sentence starts to get longer?"

Sun Hwa thought briefly, and answered carefully, "Go to the next line?"

"Why?"

"So it looks better."

"That's correct."

She was truly like an exemplary student. Even while Mr. Moon was explaining punctuation, arabic numerals and spacing in the English alphabet, he emphasized repeatedly that writing existed to be read. Manuscript paper, according to him, was like a well-decorated cake.

As the students slowly began to come to grasp how to write using the manuscript paper, Mr. Moon explained the mission he had previously given. He revealed why he had sent everyone all the way to the library in the middle of club activities.

"Do you guys know what a transcription is?"

"We've heard of it, but it's definitely not something you hear everyday," Bom answered. The others must have felt no different.

"How about copying?"

"We've heard of that, mainly when I got in trouble with my teacher," Seo Kwang said playfully, as if he was reminiscing to a time when he had been caught.

"They mean the same thing. From now on, you guys are going to be transcribing the book that you checked out from the library."

"We're copying them?"

The word 'copy' had an unpleasant connotation. As Seo Kwang had said earlier, the word was often associated with warning statements. A student could get into a world of trouble with the teacher for copying his friend's homework.

Mr. Moon took a deep breath and started speaking, "The copying we're about to do is for practice. It's a commendable deed. You guys might not be aware, but you'll find this often when a famous author is being interviewed: 'I've transcribed the work of an author I respect the most.'"

It wasn't clear who he was imitating, but Juho understood what Mr. Moon was saying. For the would-be novelists, transcription was something they tried at least once. It was a natural occurrence. For anybody who aspired to be a novelist, even without being told, if he or she was human, there would be at least one or two authors he or she admired. When memorizing the names of every single book written by an author and reading their work repeatedly no longer satisfied one's heart, one began to copy the author's writing.

'I want to be able to write like this person. I'm jealous of everything this author has. I'm mesmerized by his writing.' It was a heart like that that motivated them to move their hands, so that they could turn their idol's talents into their very own.

"One thing to be mindful of when you're copying is to not do it in a hurry. You have to follow the intention of the author as-is. In order to do that, you copy every character down to every single punctuation."

"Yes, Mr. Moon."

'That's right.' Something any would-be novelist tried at least once. For that reason, Juho didn't have experience with transcription. His first full-length novel had been his debut work, which meant that he couldn't be considered to be an aspiring novelist.

Juho opened his book, 'The Winter,' written by Hyun Do Lim, and started with a narration of the protagonist reminiscing about his past. He was an old man, well past his sixties and was an unwavering and stubborn person. He had declared to his family that he would not be joining them on a family trip that had been long-due. After all, his wife and child had left him behind.

Left alone, the old man spent time going through various emotions and eventually came to recognize the three brothers living next door. They always played near the old man's house. He spent time listening to their conversations. Soon, the eldest among the three got bullied by the other two, and the old man believed that the two were doing the right thing. He found himself in a good mood. Then, the old man received a call and discovers that his family had been tragically killed. Finally, the old man looked into the mirror and ended his story.

Juho looked around. Mr. Moon was gone and Seo Kwang was distracted, reading instead of writing. Sun Hwa and Bom were working hard on transcribing their books. So, Juho slowly copied the content of his book. It was the scene when the old man declared his solitude after sending his family away.

Although their deaths were yet to be known by the old man, he lethargically reminisced about his life. That perilous tone itself was foreshadow. It was quiet and lonely and it was consistent from the beginning and to the end of the novel.

As he copied the novel, Juho felt down for no apparent reason. He was experiencing the extreme emotions that existed in midst of silence. It was different from merely reading. It was blatant and uncomfortable.

He put down his pen for a brief moment. After taking a short break, he asked Baron, who was in the middle of drawing, a question, "What are you drawing Baron?"

"A book illustration."

He gave Juho a short answer, and Juho looked closer and saw the printed images. There was a character with a playful expression holding a rice paddle in one hand. He appeared to be Nol-bu. Aside from the character, there were also the drawings of a freckled girl in a dress and a kid with a runny nose.

It was artwork to be inserted in between the pages of a novel.

Though the genre was different, Baron seemed to be participating in a form of copying.

In his case, he wanted to be able to draw better. Overhearing the conversation, Seo Kwang poked his head in, looked at the drawings and asked, "When did you start drawing?"

"When I was young. I went to an art institute instead of kindergarten."

"So, it's been a while."

Baron shrugged without saying much. He seemed to be putting even more distance between himself and the other club members. Juho recognized that and no longer tried to talk to him. Although Seo Kwang was someone who knew when to push and when to pull away, he too no longer tried to interact with Baron. Sun Hwa was glaring fiercely at the guys as they talked. Soon, there was only the sound of friction between pen and paper.

As soon as the members finished transcribing about seven pages, the bell rang and indicated the end of club activities.

The next day, Bom made a move to convince Baron to give her a sample of his writing. Unlike Sun Hwa previously, Bom had been discrete.

"So, it's a bribe?"

"Not exactly."

"Wouldn't it have been better if you handed it to him in person? It won't do anything if the receiver doesn't know the giver."

"I felt weird about handing it to him in person."

Bom couldn't gather her words between Sun Hwa and Seo Kwang's discussion. Apparently, she had come to school early and gone into the empty second year classroom to leave a bag on Baron's desk. The bag was filled with other bags of chips and cookies.

'When did she find the time to watch Baron eat?' Juho thought to himself, impressed by her.

"Does this mean you can demand a written note from Baron as he munches on your chips and cookies? 'I'll take your writing as payment.'?"

"What?" Bom was startled by Juho's words.

"What's the matter? Didn't you give Baron all those snacks to get him to write something for you?"

"It's true, but I don't feel confident about speaking to him directly."

"Do as Sun Hwa did, as if you were blind."

"Who's blind?"

"That's even worse."

As Sun Hwa appeared, Bom expressed a strong denial to Juho. At the end, Bom wasn't able to ask for anything, so she had left Baron a gift without even revealing her name. Despite Seo Kwang's frustration over her generosity, that was the extent of her effort.

As if left with no choice, Seo Kwang shook his head and said, "Very well. I'll tell Baron while I'm on it!"

"Huh?"

He must've had a plan.

"What is it? What are you planning on doing?" Sun Hwa asked.

"Hold on to your hats."

After seeing his confident display, Juho had already lost interest. Ignoring the insincere response of the crowd, Seo Kwang kept on, "If you want something from a person, then you should prepare something he wants."

"Duh! That's obvious."

That was why Bom had given all those snacks to Baron, like Robin Hood.

"Then, there's one question left. What does Baron want?"

"Snacks?" Bom answered timidly, and Seo Kwang gestured at her answer.

"Snacks are good, but I have something more delicious in my hand."

"What is it, chocolate?" Sun Hwa answered in a lukewarm manner.

Realizing that Seo Kwang wasn't going to stop anytime soon, Juho took out a book from his bag. It was 'The Winter,' the book he had checked out of the library for transcription, and he thought to himself that he'd read it again from cover to cover as he transcribed it.

"I found a clue for the author who wrote 'The Trace of a Bird.'"

Juho's hand stopped in its place.

"Are you serious?"

"Where did you find it? Tell us!"

'He can't possibly be talking about me,' thought Juho as he slowly put down his book. In contrast to his calm appearance, his mind was working frantically.

Yun Woo. Identity. Clue. There hadn't been any updates from the editor either.

"Whoa! Control yourselves."

"Did Baron read the book too?"

"I saw it with my own eyes."

Juho had seen it too. The book Baron had read on his first day of club activities had been 'The Trace of a Bird.' He still remembered the expression on Seo Kwang's face when he saw the book in Baron's hand. He looked like he was about to wrap his arm around Baron.

"How do you know that he's a fan of the author though? It's weird to make an assumption like that just because he was reading the book."

'That's true,' Juho agreed silently. There was no proof that Baron was obsessed with the author simply because he had read the book.

As if he was mocking Juho and Sun Hwa, Seo Kwang clicked his tongue and said, "Since he's read the book, it'd be impossible for Baron not to be curious about the author."

"You know, not everyone's like you just because they're a fan."

"Who said anything about a fan? I'm simply saying that he'd be curious. Imagine you found $10,000 on the street. Wouldn't you think about who it belonged to? It would too big of an amount, so you wouldn't be able to celebrate either. You'd stay up all night deciding whether you should take it to the police or not. 'The Trace of a Bird' is just like that."

"What the heck are you talking about? How can book and money be the same?"

"You know, I can't help but notice that you've been commenting on my analogies."

Seeing how the two were starting to digress, Bom chimed in. She was curious about the clue Seo Kwang had found on the mysterious author, "Seo Kwang, did you find out who the author of 'The Trace of a Bird' is?"

"Yes, that's the main focus."

Seo Kwang cleared his throat and lowered his voice. The room felt hushed, and he pulled out a piece of paper from his chest.

"So, I ran into something really interesting on a blog."

"Show us."

Standing behind Sun Hwa holding Seo Kwang's piece of paper in her hand, Juho read the note faster than anyone else there. The first thing that caught his eyes was the title. 'Revealing the Identity of Yun Woo, the Author of 'The Trace of a Bird.'"

The intent was quite provocative.

The End

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14 Chapter 14 - A Beautiful, Book-Loving Girl

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

"The protagonist, Yun, was named and created after the author himself."

'That's not true," Juho thought.

"Between the mysterious, anonymous author and the protagonist who moves about at night, there's a resemblance in the impression that the two give off."

'Good, I think I can relax.'

Juho was able to stay at ease up to that point. That blog post had started from the hypothesis that 'The Trace of a Bird' had been written based on the life experiences of the author. The blog emphasized that the protagonist of the book and the author himself were of the same age.

However, what Juho had written was a novel. It was imagination that came out of his head. It was a made-up story. It was a lie that had been finely dressed in the spirit of prose. It was not entirely inaccurate to say that the author's experiences had had some influence in his writing, but the book wasn't about his story itself.

"So, who wrote this?"

"He goes by HongSam on the internet."

Unfortunately, HongSam couldn't be more wrong. Yet, the kids seemed to think otherwise.

"This sounds plausible, doesn't it?"

"I get the impression that it might well be," Seo Kwang and Sun Hwa said to each other.

"What is it saying? I can't really see."

At Bom's curiosity, Sun Hwa gave her a brief summary of the blog post.

HongSam's claim was as such, "The author has a detailed, yet brilliant style of writing. Despite his young age, he possesses a distinct personality. The author gradually builds up the story into a climax. His deceivingly mature writing has shocked and touched the hearts of many. The true surprise of this book lies in the sentiment that's being communicated to the readers. For an author to be able to capture such profound emotions in his writing, one can only assume that he must have lived through experiences that inspired him. Therefore, just like Yun, the protagonist of 'The Trace of a Bird,' there's a chance that the author may not be attending high school. Even if this conjecture is not entirely true, I carefully entertain the possibility that the author detached from the outside world at some point in his past."

Having read up to that point, Sun Hwa took a moment to catch her breath before moving on to the next page. At the end of the post, there was a final conclusion for the modern-day-people who simply couldn't afford the time to read such a post.

"In other words, considering all the hypotheses thus far, the image of the author, Yun Woo can be portrayed as a beautiful girl enjoying a book on a warm, sunny day."

"What?" everyone doubted what they had just read.

'What? A warm, sunny day? A beautiful, book-loving girl?'

Sun Hwa didn't appear to be impressed either. On the other hand, Seo Kwang had a happy smile on his face.

"Sigh, what is this?" she said.

"What? it's nice. A beautiful, innocent, book-loving girl," Seo Kwang countered.

"This is delusional. Come on! 'A beautiful girl enjoying a book on a warm, sunny day?' We got excited for nothing."

"Yeah, this is straight up delusional," even Bom was taking a firm stance in the matter.

Juho nodded his head to blend in with the others, "Yep. Delusional."

He was dumbfounded by what he had just read, 'A beautiful, book-loving girl? Am I, Yun Woo, actually associated with these words? My common, high-school-student self would be seriously disappointed.'

"I think Yun Woo is male," Sun Hwa said confidently.

Juho rooted for her silently, 'That's right, Yun Woo is a he.'

"Why do you think that?"

"That's what I'm hoping for, a good-looking guy who's also my age."

Juho quickly retracted the cheers directed at Sun Hwa.

"I wish him to be a muscular, high school boy."

In an instant, Juho had discovered the ideal tastes of two individuals. To be associated with a book-loving girl or a muscular, high school boy was quite a burden for him.

"Muscular. You don't say."

"Then, what about 'book-loving girl?' Right Bom?"

"Yeah, right!"

"What's wrong with 'book-loving girl?' Juho, say something."

Juho shook his head firmly. Seeing the loathing expression on Juho's face, Seo Kwang realized that no one was around to take his side. For the time being, he took a step back.

"Of course, this is HongSam's personal opinion, so I admit that there could be some bias in his words. Still, his observations up to that point sound plausible, don't they?"

"It's already over if it ends with 'a beautiful, book-loving girl.'"

"Come on, guys! The responses in the comments section aren't all that bad."

By then, Seo Kwang had already lost his friends' trust, so he quickly moved on to the main point, "This isn't the point. It's bait. If Baron falls for this, then that's all that matters."

"You really think he would fall for something like that?"

"Just watch. I'll be the first to get him to write."

Seo Kwang sprung out of his seat.

It wasn't long until Seo Kwang returned with a sad face. 'A book-loving girl' must have been of little help.

"Back already?" Juho asked.

Seo Kwang answered sadly, "Do you know what renders bait useless?

"What?"

"When it loses its freshness. Baron had already known about the blog post. He looked at me like I was the most pathetic person. I couldn't have known in my dreams that he'd already known." Seo Kwang continued with a defeated expression, "If Baron knows about HongSam's blog, then he's definitely a fan. I'm sure of it."

Seo Kwang explained to his friends that HongSam was a famous blogger among Yun Woo fans. It was hard to understand why he was famous, let alone trustworthy.

Seo Kwang grabbed his hair in despair. He seemed discouraged that the plan he had been so sure of had ended in failure. Juho thought about consoling his friend, but Sun Hwa's laughter beat him to it. There was no way she would leave him alone, especially when he was so vulnerable.

"I knew it. Some big-talker you are."

"I underestimated how big of a fan Baron was," Seo Kwang said as he angrily clenched his fists.

"You shouldn't beat around the bush when you're trying to win a person's heart, you know. You gotta tackle it head on."

"You're really into this whole head-on approach. What are you, a boar?"

"Would you like to find out what it feels like to be rammed by a boar?"

Seo Kwang was bursting with anger from Sun Hwa's mocking, but Sun Hwa was not someone who would let another person call her names, especially something like 'a boar.' Bom was standing next to her anxiously as Sun Hwa started getting ready to ram into Seo Kwang.

Even in midst of all of that, Juho's heart was not in peace. Baron being a fan of Yun Woo meant that he was a fan of Juho. Baron, a fan.

Having a fan was not something foreign to him. If anything, he was closer to being familiar with it. Before he returned to the past, he had even come out in public. Compared to the present, there had been more people around him, including fans. Still, the emotion Juho was experience was something he was not used to.

A friend-turned-fan. A fan-turned-friend. It was merely in a different order, yet there was a blatant difference. Baron hadn't been a friend from the get-go. It was embarrassing. For some reason, Juho's palm started itching.

"Then, Juho must be the only person left."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you. Everyone else approached Baron in their own way, except for you."

There was hope in the way everyone looked at him, and Juho scratched his face and responded, "Don't put your hopes up. You'll be disappointed."

"Who said anything about hoping? So, did you have anything in mind, like a plan?"

'Then how do you guys explain the curiosity in your eyes?' Juho thought. Then, he continued with a smile on his face, "I do have a plan."

"What is it?"

"It's a secret."

Both Seo Kwang and Sun Hwa jeered at his answer. They got along only in moments like that. Juho ignored their jeering and said, "OK, guys. That's enough."

Even though he was someone being jeered at, Bom looked even more anxious than him. He stared into the ceiling for a brief moment and stood up from his seat.

That moment, the bell started ringing. It was the end of recess. 'Damn it.'

Juho sat back down, and Sun Hwa and Bom returned to their class. Seo Kwang asked as he sat next to Juho, "So, what are you going to do?"

"I'll tell you when I get back."

"The teacher's coming!"

As class started, Juho stared out the window and organized his thoughts.

Juho climbed the stairs up to the second years' floor. He thought about the writing he needed to get from Baron as he went up the stairs. To figure out a way to move Baron's heart, Juho had been watching Sun Hwa, Bom. and Seo Kwang. Juho had been observing things during recess, lunch, P.E., remote classes, club activities and after school. Those were the times when he could naturally run into Baron.

Baron was ordinary. Just like all the other students, he took classes, took naps during recess, ate and read or drew during lunch. He was also a loner.

His life outside of the club didn't look very different. Although, he didn't seem to study the materials that were different from the lessons, unlike how he was during club activities.

Bait.

Juho has been looking for a bait that Baron would find irresistible. Then, finally, Juho found what he had been looking for.

Baron was also keeping his eyes on a person, and that person was his female classmate. Juho labeled her in his mind as 'Baron girl.' Juho knew nothing about 'Baron girl.' He'd never met her before, let alone talk to her. However, one thing was certain, that girl, very much like Baron, didn't talk to anyone around her. In other words, she too was a loner.

Juho arrived at Baron's class. He looked for Baron, but he didn't seem to be around. Not only that, but there seemed to be a commotion in the classroom. 'What's going on?' thought Juho.

"Give it to me, now."

There was a threatening voice. With an angry look on her face, a girl wearing a red hairpin was standing in front of another girl. It was 'Baron girl.' Despite the girl angrily demanding something from her, 'Baron girl' was sitting completely still without saying a word.

For a brief moment, Juho was able to catch a glimpse of her looking like she was being wronged.

"You were the only person in the classroom during P.E. You're the person who took my cell phone, aren't you?"

'Aha!' Juho understood what the commotion was about from that sentence alone. The girl wearing the red hairpin suspected 'Baron girl' of being the thief who stole her cell phone. Everyone in the class was watching the two, but nobody dared to get between them to help resolve the conflict.

"Don't you just sit there quietly! Give me back my phone, now!"

The girl wearing the red hairpin was getting worked up. The cell phone must have been quite expensive. When a student lost an item, it didn't end with just a heartache. Not only would she have to withstand scolding and punishment from her parents, but she would also have to live on without her cell phone until her parents bought her a new one. There was no way she could afford a new cell phone on her own. Juho had no trouble living life even without a cell phone of his own, but to another, it could be something more important than her life.

The girl wearing the red hairpin was fiercely glaring at 'Baron girl.' Seeing how angry she was, her phone must have meant a great deal to her.

"I just got it yesterday. I'm sure you'd want one being that it's the newest model, but it belongs to me. I won't cause any more ruckus, so please just give it back to me."

Her tone was rude, yet desperate. Having lost her latest-model-phone, the girl was growing more flustered by the minute. She was already certain that 'Baron girl' was the culprit. After listening quietly up to that moment, 'Baron girl' finally opened her lips, "How many times do I have to tell you that I didn't steal it?"

"If not you, then who? You were the only one here in the classroom during P.E."

Sure enough, 'Baron girl' wasn't just simply staying silent. Rather, she had already given her final answer. In spite of that, the girl wearing the red hairpin was not letting up. It was a standoff.

At that moment, Juho realized something that bothered him. This was a school. There was always a thief in a school. That thief struck regularly and stole textbooks, portable gaming consoles and, at times, even slippers. Usually, the range of victims spanned a class. If one's friend sitting next to him got his textbook stolen, there was a good chance that both of their textbook had been stolen.

In a case like that, the entire class became infuriated. On the other hand, others became anxious about becoming the next target. That was the common progression of such a scenario.

Juho looked around. Everyone was just watching with fascinated looks, which meant that the girl wearing the red hairpin had been the only victim so far.

"Still persisting, are you?"

The girl was furious. Her patience must have worn out. Juho realized that the situation no longer granted him the luxury of watching from afar. She was trembling with fierce anger, looking like she'd slap 'Baron girl' at any moment.

Juho's lips parted.

"The teacher's looking for you."

"What?"

'Baron girl' looked at Juho with a shocked expression on her face. She wasn't the only one looking at him at that point. Many others had their eyes fixed on him, and Juho repeated, "The teacher's looking for you."

The End

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15 Chapter 15 - The Sole Artist in the Literature Club 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

To reiterate, this was a school. In a school, there are teachers and students, and then there are thieves. Unfortunately, there was no law enforcement at schools. No such thing existed in such an unique environment like a school. When a handful of students fell victim to a mysterious thief, the class president informed the teacher. Then, the teacher assessed the damage and comforted the victims in the class. Simultaneously, the teacher threatened the potential thief among his students, and then closed the case. Much like corporal punishment, seeking out or catching a thief was prohibited. It was a school after all.

In other words, without 'Baron girl' in the picture, the case came to a halt. Removing her from the classroom was not a difficult task.

"Who are you?" the girl wearing a red hairpin asked sharply, but Juho didn't answer. He kept his eyes on 'Baron girl,' and rushed her.

"Hurry! Mr. Moon is looking for you."

"Yeah, OK."

She was dumbfounded by Juho's sudden appearance, but soon, she was drawn to Juho's calm words. As the two were just on their way out of the classroom, Juho felt somebody snatch him. It was the girl with the red hairpin, and she was staring at him with piercing eyes.

"Hold up!"

"What is it? Mr. Moon said it was an emergency."

"You're a first year, aren't you? You came here with your friends not too long ago."

"That's right. I needed to speak to the same person."

Her eyes were full of anger, and Juho sighed. It was going to be more complicated than he thought.

"It's you guys, huh?"

Damn it.

"What is?" Juho asked as if he were confused.

Seeing his reaction, the girl accused Juho even angrier than before, "You guys took my cell phone!"

"Nope."

Like she had done with 'Baron girl,' she was looking at Juho with the same, accusatory expression.

"Then what were the first years doing in our class? Weren't you scouting for anything valuable? No wonder my phone's gone as soon as I got a new one."

"That's not true."

"Give me the class number and names of your classmates. All of them. I'm turning in every single one of you to the police!"

That was an obvious strategy. She brought up the police to intimidate a first year. In this case, Juho, who responded calmly, "Aren't you supposed to turn your cell phones in as soon as you get to school? You've been talking about your cell phone this entire time. Did you get your bag stolen with your phone in it?"

The girl was getting aggravated. It was a rule for students to place their cell phones into a designated bag in their respective classes before the morning announcements ended. The teachers took those bags and stored them in the staffroom until the end of the school day. It was a rule created to prevent such accidents from the inception of the cell phone.

Obviously, she wasn't the only one who didn't follow the rule. However, nobody ever caused a scene like that girl.

"You can't be stealing from other people. That's bad."

"I agree. Stealing is bad. It's also bad to falsely accuse someone for it."

Her eyes lit up with anger again. Juho looked at her face-to-face. There were tears in her eyes, and she appeared to be quite anxious.

"Sigh... You know, there's a limit to making excuses. I'm sure you're anxious after losing something that belonged to you, but I'm offended that I'm being treated like the culprit."

"What's so wrong about that? My phone disappeared after you guys showed up! I heard that the door was open this morning. It was you guys, huh?"

Morning. Door. Juho immediately thought of someone. Bom had come to school early to leave snacks for Baron. It couldn't have been her. She didn't have what it took. Juho took a brief moment to think.

As if seizing her chance, the girl raised her voice, "Hurry up and bring everyone else! Give me back my phone."

"Sigh."

Things were back to square one. At that rate, nothing would get through her head. Juho looked around in search of someone who could calm her down. 'Baron girl' was nowhere to be seen, and the other second years were watching from afar. Among them, Juho found someone who looked to be the girl's friend and thought, 'What's this person doing standing there and watching?'

"So much noise!"

Juho heard a deep voice from behind. The bluntness in the tone sounded quite familiar. Without even having to turn around, Juho knew immediately who that voice belonged to. It was the reason why Juho was there in the first place. It was Baron.

"What's this about?"

His voice resounded throughout the quiet classroom. He looked around once and then fixed his eyes on the girl with the red hairpin. She seemed to be intimidated by Baron's presence looking down at her.

Juho smiled despite the atmosphere. 'He has guts stepping up to something like this. It makes sense him being the only person drawing in an Literature Club," thought Juho. Baron caught him smiling at a glance and quickly guessed the purpose of his visit.

"Is it your turn?"

"Yes. I'm only here to ask you to write something for me, but who would've known there would be such a commotion?"

Baron turned to to the girl, "You heard him. He's here to see me. Same for the other first years. If you were a first year, would you dare come up to the second year's floor to steal?"

"That's always possible! They could have taken it while they were here!" the girl snapped back at Baron, determined to stand her ground.

"Oh, my lord," Baron let out a sigh, having realized that she wasn't going to listen.

Triggered by his reaction, the girl asked, "Are you one of them?"

"No."

"Then, tell your first year to give me back my cell phone."

"He said he didn't take it. Why do you keep asking?"

At Baron's response, the girl made a frustrated face as if she were the one supposed to be frustrated.

Before Baron could speak out in anger, Juho asked, "Did you look under the desk?"

"What do I look like, an idiot? Of course, I looked!"

"Did you look in between the textbooks?"

"I don't keep textbooks under my desk."

"Then all the more reason to look. Inattention brings about mistakes."

She scoffed at Juho.

"You're not thinking about running away from this while I'm looking under the desk, are you?"

Juho did consider that. If running away could solve the issue, Juho would have done it a hundred times over. Seeing the state she was in though, she'd have followed Juho to the ends of the Earth.

"No way. It's just a possibility. There's always a possibility."

The girl frowned and snatched at Juho's wrist and dragged him to her desk. Then she shoved his other hand into the desk. She seemed certain that her phone wasn't going to be in there.

She waved her hands for everyone else to see. Her hand made a clicking noise under the desk, and Juho watched her.

Tap.

Her hand had knocked something out of the desk. It rolled for a little while until it stopped at someone's feet. It was a cell phone. The newest-model cell phone that she had been desperately looking for.

She stared at the phone that fell on the ground and didn't move a muscle. Then, her face turned bright red. Her face was even redder than at the moment when she was shouting angrily at people.

She moaned, "Why, is this..."

Juho picked up the cell phone and handed it to her. She took it without saying a word, and he realized that her hands were ice cold.

There was confusion among all the other kids who were watching.

"Is that the phone?"

"Hey, you should've looked more carefully," somebody said in the midst of the awkwardness.

It was a girl, the girl who had been watching among the crowd, the same person who looked to be friends with the girl with the red hairpin.

Another person chimed in and said, "You should apologize and get this over with."

Two people stood to the sides of the red hairpin girl. She let her head drop and didn't say another word. One of her friends spoke up on her behalf. Both of them waved their hands at the crowd with a smile on their faces.

"Sorry, sorry. She's a bit hot-headed. She gets blinded to her surroundings when she's angry. She must be really embarrassed right now. I apologize on her behalf."

"Seriously. We're sorry. I knew this was going to happen, you dumbo."

The atmosphere lightened up at their light-hearted remarks. There was laughter in the classroom and sounds of chattering. In the midst of the business, the red hairpin girl kept quiet. Even with her friends poking fun at her, her head stayed low.

"Why's this class so loud?" Mr. Moon said as he peeked his head through the front door.

It wasn't time for class yet. Juho looked at him wondering why he was there, and Mr. Moon returned the same look.

"What's a first year doing here? Go downstairs."

"Yes, sir."

Juho saw 'Baron girl' standing next to Mr. Moon. At that, he realized that it was she who had brought him. At that moment, Baron eyed Juho to leave with him. On his way out, Juho approached the girl who was still red from embarrassment. Hearing Juho approach her, she raised her chin and looked at him.

"I saw your two friends putting their hand under the desk," he whispered.

Her eyes opened up. Her motionless eyes were telling him that she understood what he said. Having confirmed that, Juho quietly went on his way.

"What did you say to her?"

"Nothing."

Juho pondered things as he answered Baron. When he was looking at the girl's friend, Baron appeared. All eyes were on him. At that moment, Juho saw two people acting suspiciously among the crowd. One of them took out a cell phone out of her pocket and slipped it into a desk. When he saw that, Juho felt his palm itching.

The girl must have been showing off her new cell phone. Bothered by that sight, her two friends plotted to screw her over. However, things were blown out of proportion by their hysterical friend. It was more than they could handle. They couldn't have stepped up to fix the situation in midst of such a ruckus.

Since the two couldn't step up, they had to hide their tracks. They agreed to hide the phone under the desk without anyone knowing. They weren't just hiding the phone. It was also an effort to hide their guilt.

The time came for them to speak up on their friend's behalf, and the two made their move.

Juho looked at the red hairpin girl as he was leaving the classroom. In the middle of her friends trying to encourage her, she remained still with her phone in her hand. Those were people who were trying desperately to shift their blame onto others. The three friends were quite similar in that aspect.

Coming out of the school building, Juho walked into the shade of a tree in the corner of the yard. The branches were spread out, and that meant more shade.

Next to the tree were the pull-up bars. Juho looked away from the bright reflection of the bars and told Baron, "Thanks for the help."

"I didn't help," Baron answered tersely, and said that he was only telling the truth.

"Telling the truth is the hard part. Other second years weren't just watching for no reason."

"I'm different from everyone else. Even in color," Baron said as he shook his hand in front of Juho. His large, dark-skinned hand swayed left and right.

"Of course. It suits the sole artist in a Literature Club."

The sole artist in a literature club was an appropriate nickname for Baron. Without hesitating, Juho asked about the things that he wanted to know about Baron, "How did you end up joining the Literature Club?"

"By mistake."

Juho tilted his head in confusion and asked, "Did you get it mixed up with the Art Club?"

The End

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16 Chapter 16 - The Sole Artist in a Literature Club 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

"Not quite. I already knew that it was the Literature Club. I even turned in the application myself."

"Then, what makes it a mistake?"

"Why do you keep asking?"

"Just applying what Mr. Moon taught us," Juho replied light-heartedly. Of course, he had no intention to dig any further if Baron expressed discomfort. "Are you feeling uncomfortable?"

Juho saw the dry expression on Baron's face. He didn't seem to be uncomfortable or feeling like he was on the spot.

Baron let out a short sigh and continued, "More like hassled. Especially by you."

"What did I do?"

Seeing how Juho was looking intently at him even before getting to the main point, Baron took a brief moment and continued, "If you're different, you stick out."

It was a rather random answer.

"And you're alone when you're running away. I had to try several times harder than others because of my color," he added.

'To not be left out,' Juho heard something that Baron hadn't said with his own lips.

Baron continued with his story, "Wearing a matching uniform wasn't enough. Neither was eating the same food. If you want to blend in, one must see, listen, dislike and like the same things as everyone else. It wasn't much of a challenge to laugh at something that wasn't funny or criticize someone or something that I don't dislike. It was tolerable. At the end of the day, I made friends and my school life became enjoyable."

As he finished speaking, Baron scowled. He was revisiting a bad memory.

"There was a guy. I wasn't close to him, but I knew what he looked like. He was an average Joe, and we ended up in the same class in our third year of middle school. I'm not sure if he was having a hard time adjusting to his new environment, but he was running away from it all before I knew it. On the other hand, I was fine. Honestly, I didn't care about him. There were no issues, and then I graduated."

Baron stopped for a brief moment before continuing, his voice cracking slightly, "But the other guy didn't. I heard he died."

The wind blew. The air was cold.

"When I heard that, I thought 'What is this? Why did this have to happen? Should I have done something? What? How?' I kept on thinking after coming up to high school. Before I knew it, a year had already passed. Still, I haven't reached an answer."

Meanwhile, Baron told Juho that he thought of a hobby that he'd been forgetting about, "I had a sudden realization and bought a sketchbook, but I didn't really feel like joining an art club, let alone drawing by myself. So, I just went for it. However, as you know, things don't usually work out if you jump in with your eyes covered."

"What didn't work out?"

Baron scratched his head at Juho's question. With an absent-minded smile, he confessed his mistake.

"I thought the Literature Club was one of the lazy clubs."

A lazy club, Juho and Seo Kwang thought the same thing at one point.

"Which means..."

"I wasn't planning on being the sole artist in the club. All I wanted to do was draw while surrounded by other people who were busy with their study guides."

A so-called lazy club meant any club that utilized their activity time for independent study sessions. Juho imagined Baron drawing by himself in such a club. Compared to the image he portrayed, he seemed rather timid.

"I tried to pull myself out, but Mr. Moon wouldn't let me, saying that there weren't enough members. Since I had nothing to lose, I confessed to him. 'I'm not going to write. I'm going to draw.' Do you know what he said?"

"What did he say?"

"He said, 'That's fine too.'"

Baron shook his head as if dumbfounded by what Mr. Moon had said.

"He really made me stick out like a sore thumb from the first day. I didn't think the timid first years would come after me so proactively."

'Aha! Now it made sense as to why Baron was in the situation he was in.'

Baron probably wanted to make up for his past of wanting to be like everyone else. At the same time, he probably wanted to be forgiven. Yet, he had been left alone after all the time that had gone by and everything that took place in between.

At the end, he started pushing himself. He consciously tried to swim against the current. He consciously tried to be left alone. Only, the Literature Club didn't leave him to do that to himself.

"You've hit the nail right on the head when you mentioned what a student wanted."

He wasn't the sole artist in the Literature Club. He was made so by Mr. Moon and the other members. At some point, Juho had asked everyone why they were trying so hard to get a writing sample from Baron. The answer had been simple, "He's the only one in the club we haven't gotten closer to."

Juho looked at Baron as he sat still. Behind him stood the biggest tree in the school. It might look lonely, but underneath the dirt, there was a complex network of roots mingling with that of other trees.

"Although trees don't even move..."

"What are you saying?"

"Over there."

Right as Juho was about to explain, a voice came from behind them. Juho turned around to see 'Baron girl.' 'That was a surprise.' As Juho stared at her, she gave him a light nod.

"Thanks for the help."

Then, she pulled out her hand. There was a loaf of bread in it. It was a piece of sponge cake from the cafeteria, the most expensive item in the shop.

"Oh, no! You don't have to."

"Thank you," she repeated. Despite Juho turning down her gift, she remained insistent. When he finally took the bread, she turned around and walked back into the school building. It was a reward that had been completely unexpected.

"Would you like half?"

"I'm fine."

"Oh, yeah! That reminds me. Didn't you receive a black plastic bag?"

"...I did."

"That was from Bom."

Since Bom had been knocked out of the game before Seo Kwang even had time to speak, Juho spread the news for his friend.

"I figured," Baron answered in a low voice.

Baron was confused by the first years coming after him with such gusto. Now, there was another first-year in front of him who was well-prepared.

Juho bit a piece of his sponge cake and said, "Would you like to make a bet?

"A bet?" Baron asked at the unexpected offer.

After swallowing the cake, Juho continued, "On whether or not the sponge-cake girl makes a friend or not."

"What?"

Baron was flustered. It happened because of his classmate who had been randomly called 'the sponge-cake girl.'

As if it were no big deal, Juho continued, "Isn't that why you're paying attention to her? Because she's alone?"

"When did I ever pay attention to her?"

"I saw your eyes following her just now."

Just as Baron was about to respond in anger, Juho raised his hand and stopped him.

"Let's make a bet. Let's see if the sponge-cake girl makes a friend within a week."

"...A week is kind of pushing it."

There were already cliques in every class. Kids with similar interests came together and shared various hobbies. It wasn't an easy task to be part of a group that had already been solidified, let alone within a week! There was no chance.

"So, let's make the bet. I'm betting that she makes a friend. If I lose, I'll make sure the first years leave you alone."

"...and if you win?"

"A sample of your writing, obviously."

Baron hesitated. He was having trouble figuring out that first year calmly munching away at his sponge cake. He thought of the time when Juho's gaze was fixated on him as words flowed out of his lips like water.

"This is not a trick, is it?"

"I promise that I'll keep myself from interacting with the sponge-cake girl in any way. I can write a note as evidence if you want."

Baron thought for a moment. A first year who kept on offering him a comic book, a first year who left him a bag full of snacks in secret, a first year who aroused his curiosity, and then a first year who emanated confidence.

"Fine," Baron answered.

*

The first time Baron realized that he was different from everyone around him was in kindergarten. Baron met kids his age for the first time then. He was excited about kindergarten. Holding his mother's hand, he went into the kindergarten building.

There was curiosity in the eyes of the kids looking at Baron. That was when Baron learned what people looked like when they saw something different from what he saw. Some kids moved away while other kids took the initiative to approach him.

It wasn't a bad feeling. Baron himself had been curious about other kids his age. He was looking forward to the process of getting to know them. They started talking, and soon, they became friends.

One day, a teacher from another class approached Baron's mother, "There's been a complaint from a parent regarding a black child."

It wasn't hard to guess what the parents were complaining about. These were parents who were anxious about their children being exposed to potentially negative influences. Even as a young boy, Baron was able to understand that.

Eventually, Baron left that kindergarten. The next place he went to was an art institute.

There were countless colors and people. A college student wearing red shoes, a housewife with a blue grocery bag, a corporate worker wearing a navy blue tie, an elementary school student with a yellow hairband, they were all different from each other in occupation, age and appearance. Baron grew closer to those people. He enjoyed that he got to draw and paint with different people. It wasn't until recently that he revisited what that felt like.

"Literature Club."

There were countless words and first years with diverse personalities. Baron thought of Juho. He was an interesting one. The moment he looked into Juho's world, Baron was not the same as he used to be. Countless words came out of Juho's lips as he simply stared into Baron. Baron was intimidated by that strange sensation. He thought and he changed.

Being alone made one stick out. The only person who stuck out was Baron himself. It was his dark skin that made him stick out like a sore thumb. That was the only thing that separated him from others, but Juho didn't have to force himself around it.

He took the book in his hand and brushed it across with his other hand. There was a drawing of a bird. 'The Trace of a Bird.' It was a book at the height of its popularity. At any bookstore, that was the best-selling book. It was always being displayed at the most visible spot.

Frankly, Baron had bought the book with the intention of mocking the author. Although the world claimed him to be a genius, Baron thought that it would be no more than some high school composition about shallow emotions. The public worshipped him, and Baron had been disgusted by it.

"It was shocking."

It was a shock indeed. Yun Woo's book dug relentlessly into its reader's mind.

'How is this possible? What's worse is that he's even a year younger than I am. Why am I being affected by this stupid book so much?' thought Baron.

He finished the book in no time. The moment he closed the book, Baron felt something hot in his chest. He had never shed a tear from reading a book. To Baron, that tear felt all the more foreign. Even when he heard the news about the passing of his friend in middle school, Baron didn't respond with tears. Still, he cried. Then, he felt refreshed.

After calming his heart, he opened the book once again.

Baron stopped in his tracks on the eye-catching cover. There were two sparrows sitting on a thick, gray telephone pole. Although it was a common sight, Baron found it to be awkward for some reason.

"If I end up writing..."

'... I want to write a story of a little sparrow that goes in search for a tree to sit on. For the birds that are tired of sitting on a telephone pole, I'll make a tree for them to rest on. I'll plant a sturdy tree filled with many branches.'

"Of course, it was always 'if.'"

Baron continued on his way. Then, he thought, 'It would have been fun to have that average Joe in the club.'

The End

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17 Chapter 17 - The Sole Artist in a Literature Club 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

"I guess we all failed," Seo Kwang said with a sigh. It had been exactly a week since Juho had made the bet with Baron. That meant that the tug-o-war between Baron and the first-years would come to an by the end of that day.

"There's still some time left."

"It's already over at this point," Seo Kwang announced, resting his chin on his hand on Juho's desk. Juho looked around. There were students on cleaning duty cleaning the classroom. It was time for club activities. There was no hope.

Despite involving the entire club in that situation, Juho sat peacefully, and Seo Kwang stared at him.

"What were you thinking when you made that bet?"

"It was half on impulse."

Juho knew that Baron was interested in 'Sponge-Cake Girl.' From afar, she was alone. She was also introverted, yet ordinary. When Juho talked to her for the first time, he had simply been thinking out loud. Seo Kwang looked at him in disbelief.

"So, you're telling me that this mischief of yours was on impulse? In the future, don't ever get yourself into gambling."

"What do you mean 'mischief?'"

"That's exactly what this is. You put your fate in the hands of a second-year whose name you don't even know. On top of that, you got everyone else in the club involved."

"I suppose it is my bad that I didn't discuss this with others."

Seo Kwang smacked his lips at Juho's apology. Then, he shook his head.

"Well, there wasn't going to be another chance if you failed anyway. He doesn't come across as the type who would give into somebody pestering him, especially after already saying 'No.'"

"I agree. That's why I went all in."

"You're shameless."

Juho laughed light-heartedly at Seo Kwang's criticism, and Seo Kwang stared at him for a while and asked quite seriously, "What would you do if it didn't work out?"

If Juho's plan failed, then bridging the gap between Baron and the rest of the club members would be much more difficult. Mr. Moon had blatantly given them a chance to connect. If they didn't seize that blatant chance, than what followed would be blatant failure.

"Things would be even more awkward between him and the rest of us."

"That's what I'm saying. You couldn't have jumped in blindfolded. "

Juho felt bad for Seo Kwang, but he hadn't planned for the possible failure. That was what it looked like to be impulsive. At Juho's silence, Seo Kwang's expression grew darker. 'What to do?'

Juho had experienced countless failures up to the point of being homeless. He was sick of failing at something and he had no intention of reliving such a life. That was the reason why he was pushing ahead with his impulse.

"You can't do anything if you're afraid of the results."

There is no way to know the result of something until it reveals itself. That was especially true when it came to changing a person's heart. No matter how much one measured and calculated, they would never reach the answer. That was what made waiting such a nerve-racking event. Nothing was certain.

"I can think of a plan after I fail."

Juho was certain that there was going to be a way. There was nothing to get out of worrying from that point on. The plan hadn't failed yet. Besides, he had a good feeling about it. 'It'll work out,' he kept repeating to himself.

Seo Kwang sneered at him, "Whatever. You owe me bread from the canteen if you fail."

"I'll buy you a loaf of sponge cake."

The two stood up from their seats to headed over to the science room. As they were on their way out through the back door, they found Baron standing in front of it.

"Come out for a second."

At his deep, resounding voice, the students on cleaning duty stopped what they were doing. It wasn't common for Baron to be seen on the first-year's floor. He had never come down voluntarily to see a first-year, until now. Seo Kwang pushed Juho from behind. It seemed like he wanted Juho to find out what was going on.

"What brings you here?"

"Why else would I be here aside from that one thing?"

Baron was referring to the bet.

"I'm guessing the result is out?"

"How'd it go? Who won?" Seo Kwang asked, but Baron didn't answer. It seemed like he needed to discuss it privately, so Juho sent Seo Kwang ahead to the science room.

"Take your time."

"OK."

Seo Kwang waved, and then Baron went out to the hallway with Juho following him. They remained silent until sitting under the same tree from the day before.

Baron asked calmly, "How did you know?"

It was somewhat of a random question, but Juho understood the gist of what he was trying to ask. 'I had a good feeling about it,' thought Juho.

Then, he exclaimed with a smile, "The sponge-cake girl must have made a friend?!"

"I asked how did you know."

Baron thought about what had happened three days before. The sponge-cake girl had been talking with a group of people. The next day, and the following day, she was surrounded by people. She seemed happy, laughing and chattering with her friends.

It took less than a week. Just as Juho had said, she had moved on from solitude. Then, there was Baron himself, remaining unfazed by it all.

"You knew it was going to happen too, Baron." Baron didn't say a word, and Juho continued, "I saw her holding a book when I saw her on the second floor hallway: 'The Trace of a Bird.' It's a recent best-seller,"

Baron hesitated at the familiar title.

"Sponge-Cake Girl has a very introverted personality. Talking to someone first is not an easy task for her. In that case, somebody needs to approach her and talk to her. She had things to talk about all along. It was in her hand."

Juho thought of the sponge cake he had eaten on the same spot where he was sitting. She had come to show gratitude to a first-year who she hardly knew, even with a small gift. Usually, one would think of a reason to move on:

'I appreciate the help, but I don't know his class.'

'I don't know his name.'

'He's in a different grade, so I probably won't ever run into him again.'

It was a connection that could have been easily neglected. On top of that, she was an introvert. It couldn't have been easy to talk to someone who she didn't know.

Despite it all, she had brought Juho the sponge cake. It wasn't likely that a person like that would be left alone. Besides, she had been involved in the drama that had attracted the attention of an entire class and proven innocent. It wouldn't have been weird to be approached by at least one person.

"What she needs is something to talk about."

Then, there was silence, and Baron let out a smirk.

"That was disappointing."

There was emptiness in his tone. It was an emptiness that came from acknowledgement. Baron, too, had been keeping his eyes on Sponge-Cake Girl. He must have known better than any other person that being a loner didn't suit her.

He seemed like he was thinking of someone when Juho said, "If you're alive, you can make it out."

That's what being alone was like. A person couldn't live on his own. As long as he was alive, somebody was bound to come by.

At that moment, they saw the Sponge-Cake Girl coming out of the school building with three other girls. Juho called her as he waved, "The cake was delicious!"

"Right!"

She was smiling brightly and actually responding to him talking to her. She had come looking for him after he helped her, and now she wasn't alone.

"I should've tried to talk to her," said Baron. "I wish I had said something to that average Joe. He might have been able to last just a little longer."

A person couldn't survive on his own. Baron bit his lips.

"It's not your fault, Baron," Juho whispered.

By the time Juho and Baron were the only people left in the yard, the bell rang throughout the entire school.

They headed to the science room. Baron still gave off a brusque impression, but he looked a bit more comfortable. Without saying anything to each other, the two walked up the stairs and went into the science room.

"Baron!"

"What?" Baron answered tiredly.

Ignoring his exhaustion, Sun Hwa continued, "I forfeit!"

"What?"

'What is she saying?' Baron seemed dumbfounded. Next to him, Juho also tilted his head in confusion. It wasn't like Sun Hwa to bring up forfeiting.

Juho thought about explaining the situation to her, but Sun Hwa seemed like she still had things to say. She picked up a comic book. It was the same comic book she had been desperately trying to get Baron to read.

She pointed to Baron with the comic book and said, "It's too late to ask if you can borrow it. Even if you're desperate to write a report on it, it's not going to work."

"I'm not interested," at Baron's blunt answer, she stepped aside. There was a pile of comic books that were hidden behind her. "What is all this?"

With a satisfied smile on her face, she presented her collection. As she explained each of her comic books with excitement, Baron asked her again, "So what?"

"Let's read them together."

"I thought you said you forfeit?"

She shook her head at his response.

"These are only suggestions. I want to share this passion of mine."

Baron hesitated. He couldn't think straight. Recognizing his hesitation, Juho replied. "I want to read them too."

Her eyes lit up, and she smile brightly.

"I knew you'd understand. Comic books are even better when you read it with other people."

"Then, count me in," Seo Kwang chimed in.

"Not a chance," she replied ruthlessly.

"That's not nice. Then, what about that one? You don't need it anymore."

While Seo Kwang and Sun Hwa quarreled over a comic book, Juho took a book from the top of the pike and handed it to Baron.

At Juho's gesture, Baron couldn't help but smile. Then, he pulled out the black plastic bag, full of snacks.

"Here, have a snack."

"Oh, wow! You really know how to impress us. This bag looks familiar though."

"Somebody left it on my desk."

While Bom sat nervously, Baron opened up several packs of snacks and spread them out onto the desk. It was a party. Everyone held a comic book in their hands while munching on the snacks. Reading comic books and snickering together was truly a fun experience.

"I didn't know this was the comic book club."

"Mr. Moon!"

Mr.Moon came in and looked around the room. The Literature Club had turned into a comic book store. Then, he snatched one of the snacks from the desk and put it in his mouth.

"Hand me a comic book, will you?"

Eventually, the entire club was immersed in comic books.

*

"Yo, you missed a spot."

As Juho leaned forward in his seat, a voice sounded above his head. It was obvious who the voice belonged to.

"You mean here?"

Pretending not to understand, Juho took a broom and swept across Seo Kwang's feet. There were chunks of hair and dust stuck on the end of the broom. It clearly wasn't well-maintained. Seo Kwang jumped up and stepped back.

Juho was in the middle of cleaning the classroom. The cleaning rotation was based on the call number. There were three others on duty aside from him. Two of them swept the classroom with him, and the other was mopping the hallway. After sweeping for some time, Juho straightened his back. There was no painful groan. It was a blessing to have a young body.

After checking for dust on his shoes, Seo Kwang leaned against a desk. Naturally, he opened the book in his hand and started reading. He had a habit of reading whenever there was a chance to. Juho himself was an avid reader, but it was nothing like Seo Kwang. 'He's an interesting fellow.' he thought.

The End

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18 Chapter 18 - Yun Woo is in Our School 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

Juho wrapped up the cleaning and went out to the hallway to throw out the trash. There used to be a trash can in each classroom, but being that it was hard to maintain, they were removed by the school. Instead, the students were to use a community trash can at the end of the hallway.

Standing at the front of the trash can, Juho began separating the recyclables from his trash: a pen missing its lid, an eraser about to break in half, the crumpled up school newsletter, small pieces of paper, etc. They were all found on the classroom's floor.

"What's this?"

After he had finished separating the recyclables, there was another piece of paper lying on the hallway floor that caught his eyes. It must have fallen out of Juho's trash. Judging from the torn pages and crumpled up surface, it looked like it was treated roughly. When he saw the neat writing on the paper, he picked it up.

"This..."

Juho was shocked. He was familiar with what was written on the crumpled up paper.

"Is this… a transcription?"

It was part of a transcription of the book Juho had written. The neat penmanship abruptly came to an end.

'Who wrote this?' thought Juho. Transcriptions were something Juho had been working on himself. It was part of the daily routine of the Literature Club. The purpose of it was to become a better writer.

'Could this belong to someone who aspires to be a writer? Then there must have been better books. Why did this person choose 'The Trace of a Bird' of all books?' Juho was having trouble understanding the motive of the transcriber. Besides, did it mean something that Juho had found it next to a trash can?

Seeing the homeroom teacher from a distance, Juho shoved in the crumpled up paper into his pocket and finished cleaning.

'How boring.'

It was the math class. The teacher, with his lower belly bulging out, had a simple teaching method. He wrote out the equations and the process on how to solve them. Then, as a final touch, he added a short and quick explanation to what was written on the chalkboard.

The math teacher was surprisingly popular among the students. It wasn't because of his friendliness or his appearance, but because of his writing and equations.

With his pinky finger sticking up while using the white chalk, his handwriting was neat and consistent. His craft reached its climax when he started drawing figures on the board. His drawings were comparable to those of an art teacher. They were steady and three-dimensional.

What was funny was that even the teacher himself found satisfaction in his craft on the chalkboard. After class, on his way out, he looked at what he had written and drawn and smiled in a way that he never would to his students. For some reason, Juho thought of Mr. Moon. It felt like he had figured out why the math teacher was able to come to school so consistently.

While Juho was spending time looking at the chalkboard, he noticed a disturbance in the class. When he looked around, he saw a small piece of paper being passed around. They were exchanging notes. Usually, he would have ignored it, but that time was different.

There was a much bigger number of people exchanging notes with one another. It wasn't just a note between two individuals. Rather, it was a note being passed around to the entire class. It seemed more like a telegram than a note at that point, and Juho became curious. 'What's written on that paper that has to be passed around in the middle of class?'

Eventually, the note reached Seo Kwang. He seemed confused about getting the note since he was reading his book on the down low, but soon, he opened it to read it. Juho stared intently at his back.

His shoulders started moving up and down. Seo Kwang was quite shaken. He took his eyes off the note and looked around at his surroundings. It seemed like he was trying to find some sort of confirmation. Whenever his face passed by Juho, he could see the shock in Seo Kwang's face.

'What was going on?' Juho tried to remember if anything had happened around that time of his life, but nothing came to him.

After Seo Kwang had his moment, he quietly turned around to Juho and handed him the note. After anticipating reading it, Juho took the note without delay. For some reason, the paper was getting floppy. It must have been passed around the entire class. The moment Juho opened the floppy piece of paper, he had to stop himself from gasping out loud.

The paper was filled with small letters. It read, "Yun Woo is in our school."

'Is my cover blown? It doesn't really seem like it,' thought Juho.

There wasn't much he could do in that difficult-to-understand situation. For that reason, Juho stared out the window absentmindedly until the math teacher left the classroom with a satisfied smile.

"Hey," Seo Kwang called, quickly turning to Juho as soon the class ended.

With a slight determination, Juho answered, "What?"

Seo Kwang responded with a serious face, "Let's go."

'Go? Where?'

"Where?"

"To meet Yun Woo."

"What?"

Juho was still confused. 'Where can anyone go to find Yun Woo? He's sitting right in front of you. What's happening?'

"Let's hurry. The others went ahead."

"Where are we going?"

"What were you doing during class when the note was being passed around? Come on, I've heard she's in Classroom 7."

"I was paying attention to the lesson, of course," Juho said, although he was actually spacing out then.

As he caught up to Seo Kwang hurrying his steps, Juho was slowly came to grasp things. 'That must mean there's another Yun Woo in this school aside from myself. In Classroom 7 at that.'

"Could it be a case of identity theft?"

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

Seo Kwang exclaimed with excitement, "It's just as I thought, a girl!"

"Who?"

"What do you mean who? Yun Woo, obviously!"

"What? Yun Woo's a she?!"

"Yeah, she must be really pretty."

'No, Yun Woo is not a girl.' No matter how much Juho screamed it on the inside, Seo Kwang couldn't hear him. As much as Seo Kwang was excited about Yun Woo being a beautiful girl, it was merely an information regarding a case of identity theft to Juho's ears.

In the front of Classroom 7, there was a crowd of people who had come to see Yun Woo after hearing the rumor. Seo Kwang and Juho made their way through the crowd into the classroom. Inside, was another crowd surrounding a girl in a large circle. It was obvious that she was the thief who had stolen the name "Yun Woo." When the two got closer to her, she was busy answering questions from other students.

"How did you think of writing something like that?"

"You know, there are a lot of people who are scared of pigeons lately. I was on the street one day and I heard a lady screaming. I thought she was in trouble so I went to her, and sure enough, it was because of a pigeon."

"I've seen people do that."

"Me too, me too! I saw this mom who was covering her daughter's mouth when some pigeons were flying away because they're dirty."

"It makes sense though. They do kind of look harmful even at a glance."

'Pigeons?' Juho was dumbfounded. As soon as the fake Yun Woo finished, other students surrounding her began to chime in.

"After seeing that, I had an idea. I thought it'd be interesting to make the protagonist a person who suffers from a phobia of birds."

"I see."

"What's the secret to writing well?"

She was coming up with stories that could likely exist. Another question came out of the circle of people surrounding the girl. With a smirk, she answered sincerely. The mole on her cheek moved up as she smiled.

"Hm. How should I say this? I just let my hand do the work. You close your eyes, and think of an image, things you want to write about. Then, your hand will move on its own."

"Wow! How long did it take you to write the entire book?"

"The first draft didn't take long to finish. Maybe a week?"

Juho clenched his fist from embarrassment. 'Why am I feeling embarrassed? What kind of nonsense is she saying about her hand moving on its own? How do you write with your eyes closed? One week? Where did that come from? 'The Trace of a Bird' is nearly a full-length novel. One week is nowhere near enough. What's this about?'

As Juho shook in agony, another person raised his hand to ask another question, "The way your book described fear or terror was incredibly realistic. A lot of people are saying that it's based on experience."

"I'm sorry. That's a bit of a sensitive question. I'm not sure if I can answer it."

'Who does she think she is? Does she have no shame? Well, I suppose she couldn't have guessed that the real Yun Woo came to this school. She must be acting because she's not aware that she's being watched by the real Yun Woo.'

That had never happened when Juho had revealed his face in the past. Yet, it was still somewhat of a familiar sight. Conversely, at that time, Juho had been the one surrounded by the crowd.

Juho had spent his days in school being in the center of attention. At times, students from other schools would come visit him to find out if the rumor was true. He couldn't help but notice himself in that imposter. Still, her bluffs were getting out of hand.

"That was kind of unexpected."

At that moment, Juho heard his friend's murmur. There was a contrast in his voice from a moment ago. Yun Woo must have been quite different from what Seo Kwang had imagined. Juho looked at him and asked, "What kind of person were you hoping Yun Woo to be?"

"Well, hm. If you put it that way, it makes it harder for me to answer. I guess pretty?"

After some hesitation, he eventually answered with a joke, and Juho laughed it off without asking any further.

Juho felt a little better. He looked at "Yun Woo," who was the center of attention. The mole on her cheek was moving about on her face whenever she smiled.

With his eyes on the girl, Juho's lips parted, "Can I ask a question too?"

"Yun Woo" nodded and accepted Juho's request. There was confidence in her face as if she could answer anything. To tackle the most fundamental curiosity he had, Juho asked, "You've been anonymous up to this point. Why reveal yourself now?

Everyone had been friendly to her so far. At that point, there was no use in asking her to prove that she was real. For that reason, Juho decided to take a roundabout approach. He didn't show her any hostility. Rather, he asked as if he was genuinely curious.

She seemed caught off guard for a moment, but soon, she straightened her face and answered Juho's question, "I'm a little flustered myself. I didn't think my cover would get blown like this. One of my friends saw the original copy of my book. I didn't want to be a liar."

'The original copy, she says.' Juho reached into his pocket, and his hand caught something. A worn-out piece of paper rustled in his hand. Although he had no basis for it, Juho felt confident.

'This is from her.'

Juho slowly pulled his hand out of his pocket.

"I see. You don't like to lie."

"Yes."

"You have a rough future ahead of you," Juho said to her as the sole person who knew the conclusion Yun Woo had come to. There was no benefit in borrowing that name.

Having misunderstood him, she smiled innocently and said, "I think it's better than being a hypocrite. If you're uncomfortable at heart, you can't write well."

"Wow! That's amazing."

Juho thought for a moment and made her a final question. There were other students to his sides who were itching to ask her questions themselves.

"How does it feel to be Yun Woo?"

She smiled brightly and replied, "Great!"

The End

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19 Chapter 19 - Yun Woo is in Our School 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

"What do you think, Mr. Moon?" Sun Hwa asked.

"What do you mean?" Mr. Moon asked in response as he took his seat.

Sun Hwa shed some light on the latest hot topic in school.

"As in Yun Woo."

"What about him?"

Mr. Moon seemed to have no clue of why that name was coming up. Having assumed that Mr. Moon would already know about the matter, Sun Hwa asked again in surprise, "... Do the teachers not know about this yet?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Yun Woo"

"Who doesn't know Yun Woo?" Mr. Moon genuinely didn't seem to be aware that the renowned celebrity was in his class. Right as Sun Hwa was about to reveal the truth, Juho intervened.

"Yun Woo comes to our school."

"... What?"

"What the!? I was going to say that!"

Juho swiftly avoided Sun Hwa fierce glare at him, but Mr. Moon was sitting still in shock. Though he was hardly startled by anything, he was frozen in place by what he had just heard. That moment, another person stood up from his seat in disbelief. It was Baron. The two hardest people to surprise, sitting across from each other, staring out. It was quite a sight.

As for Baron, he had no friends in his class who would share the news with him. It would make sense that he hadn't known until then. Judging from their reactions, it seemed like the rumor was yet to spread throughout the entire school.

With a smile, Seo Kwang asked Baron, "You didn't know Baron? I saw some third-years coming by"

"Yun Woo is in this school?"

"Yeah. She's in Class Seven. She's pretty."

"She? Yun Woo is a girl?"

"I know. What HongSam said in his blog is right."

Baron and Seo Kwang began to have a deep conversation about HongSam. HongSam was a famous blogger who believed Yun Woo was female.

Having heard about HongSam earlier, Juho visited his blog one day. Along with his ridiculous opinion on Yun Woo's true identity, there were also reviews of books across various genres. Unlike Juho's expectation, there were quite a few regulars who visited his blog.

HongSam seemed quite humorous and skilled in identifying the core message of a book. There was not a moment of boredom.

Even Juho purchased a book at some point after having read his blog, so that proved it. Listening to Baron and Seo Kwang's conversation, Juho quietly nodded. Ignoring the boys, Sun Hwa continued with her story about Yun Woo for Mr.Moon.

"She sounded like an artist when she talked. Apparently, once she closes are eyes and feels her inspiration, her hand writes on its own. Isn't that fascinating? I'm telling you, she's a genius."

"She was surrounded by other students the entire day. Even so, she answered every question without showing any sign of fatigue ."

"Hm," Mr. Moon groaned vaguely at Sun Hwa's and Bom's words. His expression was similar to Seo Kwang's when he had gone over to see 'Yun Woo.'

"Why wouldn't Yun Woo join the Literature Club? She's a novelist," Sun Hwa said.

Then, Juho replied, "Well, just because someone is a novelist doesn't mean that person has to be a part of the Literature Club. Maybe Yun Woo wants to experience other things because she's already a novelist."

"I guess so. I don't know if I'd feel comfortable if Yun Woo was part of the club."

"How so?"

"Isn't it obvious? It's shameful to try to write something in front of a professional. Besides, we're the same age."

After a brief silence, Juho's mouth opened, "Shameful?"

"Well, it's just… embarrassing. It's like holding a candle to the sun."

"Is that right?"

"Alright, enough chit-chat."

Mr. Moon clapped his hands and calmed the excitement. For a while, the Literature Club had been focusing on improving vocabulary and transcription. The members had been harvesting words from the sea, land, their respective homes, and streets.

"We're going to be using our bodies today, so let's move the desks."

They acted according to Mr. Moon's instruction. They separated the two rectangular desks that were next to each other and lined them up into a single row. The five sat on one side of a desk while Mr. Moon remained on the other side on his own. It looked like Mr. Moon was being interviewed for a job. He took out a notebook he had brought with him and continued with his instructions.

"In this notebook, you will find various words. One person has to explain the word I show him or her, and the rest of you have to guess."

"Is this a quiz?"

Juho had seen another quiz of a similar format on the TV, so Mr. Moon explained the difference between that class and the TV show, "There is no time limit. Make sure you focus more on explaining than guessing the correct answer. We have a lot of time, so take your time observing your surroundings. Explain as if you were listing the characteristics of the object. You'll get it as we go on."

It was still confusing. Seo Kwang was called first because he was sitting on the left-most side of the desk. Since Mr. Moon said that everyone would have a turn, Juho was made last.

Mr. Moon stood behind the members who were sitting and revealed the word on his notebook to Seo Kwang. It really felt like the speed quiz on TV.

Seo Kwang hesitated for a brief moment when he saw the word, but soon stammered his way through. Although there was no time limit, he started speaking faster and faster.

"Uh, so this. It's an image of a city. The first thing that comes to mind when you think of a city."

"Fanciness? Bright lights?" Sun Hwa was blurting out whatever she could think of, but Seo Kwang shook his head.

"It's far from fanciness. Opposite, in fact. It melts under heat! Also, it cracks when it gets… old?"

"Most things melt under heat and crack with age."

Ignoring Juho, Seo Kwang continued, "In literature, they use this word to portray something bad about a city. Gray! It's gray; it's used in construction, and you can find them in residential areas. They use this for building streets, and if you fall on it, you'll hurt your knee. Maybe it's usually mixed with a few other things. It's gray."

It was still unclear what Seo Kwang was describing. Still, everyone had an idea.

Sun Hwa exclaimed, "Concrete!"

"Correct!"

Everyone turned around and found the word 'cement concrete' written on Mr. Moon's notebook. In parenthesis, it was also written "'concrete' counts as an answer."

"Maybe? Why'd you say maybe?"

"Hey, it's not like I'm studying architecture. How much would I know about concrete?"

"Even then, you shouldn't say something if it's not a fact."

"You try it!"

At that, Sun Hwa walked out confidently to the front. She looked intently past the other club members in their seats and then at the notebook. For a brief moment, she was lost in her thoughts.

In the meantime, Juho saw an artist sitting toward the middle of the desk, recording the activity of the Literature Club members. His hand moved about his sketchbook.

As Juho watched, Sun Hwa began her explanation, "OK. So, this is something that comes out during important scenes. There's a song about it too. It looks prettier from afar."

"You don't look that pretty even from afar, so it can't be you."

"I'm going to hurt you!"

Sun Hwa raised her fist at Seo Kwang as he mocked her. At Bom's awkward laughter because of them, Sun Hwa continued, "It's season-sensitive. Each has its own place, but some don't… and there's a lot of them. It's not visible during the day, but only at night. Oh, him! It has something to do with his name!"

Then, Sun Hwa pointed fiercely at Juho. All eyes were fixed on him as she pointed out suddenly. 'Juho. Woo-Juho' (TL Note: Wooju sounds like the Korean word for space).

"Mozart really liked this!"

"Oh, stars!"

"Correct!"

Seo Kwang got it right this time.

'I guess space does have something to do with it,' Juho admitted to himself while thinking about his name. Then, he proceeded to ask a question, "Mozart liked stars?"

"He composed music about it. Wouldn't you think he did?"

Juho stopped himself from acting on his urge to ask "what makes that assumption so different from Seo Kwang's?"

Next, was Bom. She seemed nervous to be standing in front of the others.

"You got this!" Sun Hwa cheered for her while shaking her arms. Seo Kwang joined in by shaking his hand at her. Juho, too, clapped gently as a means of encouragement.

As soon as she saw her word, Boom started talking, "It's delicious. Um, it's usually for dessert and everyone sits around it. Uh, and some don't have seeds."

"Watermelon?"

At 'seedless,' Sun Hwa had thought of watermelon, but it wasn't the right answer. Bom gently waved her hand in denial and continued.

"You can get drunk from it if you drink it. It can be made into candy or a poem. You don't eat the peel or the seeds."

"You don't eat the peel? Is it an Orange?"

"Really? You get drunk from drinking an orange?"

As Seo Kwang and Sun Hwa quarreled, Juho quietly raised his hand. His answer may have been somewhat subjective, but he immediately understood from one of the clues: 'you can get drunk from it if you drink it.'

"Grapes!"

"That's correct."

"I was thinking the same thing!" Seo Kwang exclaimed. Then, he critiqued one of Bom's clues, "I eat every part of the grape, even the peel and the seeds."

"What for?" Sun Hwa questioned him in response.

With an apologetic expression, Bom told him, "I don't eat the peel or the seeds, so I just said it without thinking."

"Well, I guess that makes sense. There's not even a time limit, but this is so nerve-racking."

So far, every person had shown a tendency of talking or trying to talk faster. Everyone was getting anxious because they felt like they were competing in a quiz show.

"I guess I'm next," Juho said as he stood up from his seat.

From the front, he faced Mr. Moon holding his notebook. It really was like a quiz show. Juho's eyes met with Mr. Moon's. Without hesitating, he turned the page. The word 'snake' was written on the notebook, and he took a moment to think.

'Snake, snake.'

Juho immediately thought of the snake wine, but quickly moved on to a different image. He wasn't old enough to be thinking about such a thing.

"This has no fins, wings, or legs, but it lives in both the water and the desert. It's known to be poisonous. It's very seductive, but even if you give into its charm, you won't end up taking off your clothes."

"That's so suggestive!" having shouted such a thing, Seo Kwang was left with no choice but to face Sun Hwa and her pitiful glare.

"It signifies wisdom and medicine, and it has hundreds of ribs. It's the only reptile among twelve animals, and it won sixth place in Kyung Joo."

That was more than enough, and the three answered simultaneously, "Snake!"

"Correct," Juho told everyone.

Then, he quietly returned to his seat. Looking at him, Seo Kwang thought to himself, 'He's good.'

Having been training his vocabulary so far, Seo Kwang could only acknowledge the skill Juho possessed. Juho excelled in language. Sun Hwa and Bom were both competent, but Juho was on a different level. He had the cognitive skills, but there was something about him that set him apart.

At that moment, Bom asked Seo Kwang, "I've been thinking this since last week, but doesn't Juho speak really comfortably?"

"Yeah!" Seo Kwang agreed with her enthusiastically, and Bom was slightly taken aback by such passionate response.

"We're running out of breath as is, but there's no hesitation in his speech."

"That's not fair."

Sun Hwa and Seo Kwang glared at Juho. Even if they were to complain, he had nothing to say in response. He stared into the ceiling and, choosing to mumble through his words, he said, "Maybe it's because I like snake wine?"

The End

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20 Chapter 20 - Yun Woo is in Our School 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

As time passed, the rumor about 'Yun Woo' spread widely. Countless people, regardless of their year, had been coming in and out of Class 7, and Yun Woo was always in the middle of a crowd. Everyone's attention was on her. Even in places where she wasn't physically present, there were always people talking of Yun Woo, and it was no different in Juho's class.

"I told my mom, but she wouldn't believe me. I told her that the entire school knows about it, but she just completely made a fool out of me."

"Really? My sister gave me her book to get it autographed. I got myself a fried chicken dinner out of that deal."

"Lucky! I was going to take a picture of her, but she said no."

"She wouldn't let you take a picture? I didn't turn in my phone so I could take a picture of her later."

"I don't know."

In some sense, that massive level of attention toward Yun Woo was a natural response. Yun Woo was an author who had the record of being both the youngest to win the publishing contest and debut into the literary world. Once an anonymous genius revealed his or her identity, people were bound to want to see them in person, even from afar. That girl was within a reachable proximity of her fans, who were also her fellow students. It made sense that she was receiving so much attention.

The hallway was busier than ever. Juho looked out and saw that Yun Woo was standing in the middle of it. There were enough students to keep them from passing through. Several students started complaining, but nobody was listening to them. That was not good.

"Yun! Please give me an autograph!"

A male student ran out into the hallway in the middle of chatting with his friends next to Juho. Everyone was trying to get an autograph from her. Some even pulled out their fresh, barely read copy of 'The Trace of a Bird.' It was obvious that they hadn't read the book. Those students were trying to get an autograph from the supposed author without having read the book themselves, which was also a common sight and type of student.

"Me too! Me too!"

Juho approached the crowd of people clogging up the hallway.

'How would this impostor handle my demand for an autograph? Would she actually sign it?'

As if she were mocking him, Yun Woo took out a pen from her pocket and asked another student, "Where do you want me to sign?"

"Here, next to the title."

"Name?"

Juho snickered. He must have been underestimating that fake Yun Woo.

"Haha! Oh, my."

He gave up on her shameless attitude. The hallway quickly turned into a signing event for the fans, and Juho started to get worried.

'What if she really believes herself to be the real Yun Woo?'

"Are you waiting for an autograph too?" Seo Kwang came up to him and asked.

Juho shook his head.

"I don't even own a copy. What about you? You own three!"

"Nah, there are just too many people."

To Juho, Seo Kwang wasn't somebody who would miss an opportunity like that for such a simple reason. He stared at his friend for a while and asked, "Are you doubting that she's real?"

Seo Kwang seemed uncomfortable with Juho's bluntness. Like Juho had said, he had doubts. That Yun Woo, now the center of attention, was beautiful and just like how he imagined her to be, but something wasn't right.

"Maybe. Something tells me that it's not her."

"What makes you say that?"

"That's why I'm keeping quiet!"

There was frustration in his tone, and seeing Juho smiling, Seo Kwang asked, "What do you think?"

"Oh! Hey, guys!"

The moment Seo Kwang asked him, the two heard a familiar voice calling for them. When they turned their heads, they saw Bom standing behind them. She had a book in her hand.

"You're getting it signed?" Juho asked with a surprised look, and Bom blinked rapidly from embarrassment.

"It's just that… I really enjoyed the book."

"Eh, there's nothing wrong with that," Juho moved aside as he responded light-heartedly.

However, instead of walking past them, Bom stopped and looked at Juho and Seo Kwang. Then she asked, "Are you guys not getting one?"

"Yeah, I don't own a copy."

"I don't think I can dare get through that crowd."

There was a wall of people in the direction where Seo Kwang had pointed. It was a wall that separated Juho from Yun Woo. Bom hesitated for a moment and soon shook her head.

"I don't think I can either. I'll pass."

"Huh?! Are you sure? I can help if you need it."

"It's OK. I'm not necessarily a fan of the author," Bom said as she embraced her book.

At her response, Seo Kwang approached her with a bright smile, "That's unexpected. I thought you wouldn't be into novels because you only read comic books with Sun Hwa. What are you reading? What genre? What did you read most recently? Do you have a favorite author? Do you prefer foreign novels or Korean novels?"

Bom was getting overwhelmed by the barrage of questions, but soon stammered her way through. Finding the sight amusing, Juho watched them. Because of her timid personality and the fact that she was mostly around Sun Hwa, there were hardly any opportunities to strike a direct conversation with her.

"Uh... I don't read a whole lot, but I do have a few that I really like."

"Aha! So you're the type who reads a book over and over once you get really into it. Hm, that's good too."

Seo Kwang nodded enthusiastically. He and Bom seemed to be talking casually at first, but now, he was pushing for his one-sided book suggestions. Seeing how Bom didn't seem annoyed by it, Juho didn't do anything to stop his friend. Seo Kwang had a tactful personality himself, so he would have stopped if Bom looked uncomfortable.

Juho redirected his attention to Yun Woo. A girl was asking for an autograph.

"Could you write something next to your signature too?"

"You want me to write something?"

"Yeah, like a special note. It would bump up the value of the book."

Yun Woo had been signing with a smile on her face so far, but for the first time, there was a change in her expression. It was subtle, but it was clearly noticeable to him. The girl who requested for a special note began to grow impatient and hurried Yun Woo.

Then, Yun Woo quickly changed her tone and responded angrily, "What's a book to you?!"

"Huh?"

"If the value of a book is determined by the signature of a celebrity author or a special note, then my writing has no purpose. A book is precious on its own."

The hallway grew quieter. There were sounds of people whispering. The girl who made the special request was flushing from being humiliated in front of the crowd, but Yun Woo pushed on, "You're planning on selling this on the internet, aren't you? I'm offended that you're asking for a special favor without even telling me your name."

"What are you talking about?!"

Although the girl was denying it, Yun Woo kept a stern look. As for the crowd who had been watching, it was obvious whose side they were going to take. Nobody wanted to be enemies with a person who had something to offer, especially when there was something to be gained from that person.

Besides, it was already suspicious enough that the girl wasn't giving her name. To Juho, however, there was little to no difference between those two girls.

'A purpose to write... Only a person who actually writes can make that statement convincing.'

Lunch time came, and everyone rushed toward the cafeteria. The sound of rumbling footsteps resounded in the hallway. Usually, Juho and Seo Kwang would head over to the cafeteria after the crowd had passed their classroom, but that day was different. There was a place to be.

Juho stood up from his seat.

Since he had already given Seo Kwang a notice, Seo Kwang went onto the cafeteria along all the other students. He had a skill of getting along with just about anyone. However, outside of a certain group, he didn't mention anything about books. Afterall, a book-loving high-school student was a rare find.

Juho opened the door and walked into Class 7. Just like he had done in the past, Yun Woo was sitting alone in the classroom. It had been the only time of the day that Juho had gotten to be alone.

"Are you alone?"

"Yes," Yun Woo replied gently.

Intentionally, Juho responded with a mean attitude, "Nothing's more important than food."

'No matter how big of a fan.' he thought.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

There was a subtle edge in her tone, and Juho stood next to her seat.

Yun Woo looked up to him and asked again, "Are you here to see me?"

Juho nodded lightly.

"I'm here to meet Yun Woo."

"Why?"

"I have something to give you."

"I guess Yun Woo came before food in your mind."

Juho responded camly, "I already ate, although it was bread instead of rice."

Yun Woo frowned at him and then changed the subject, "So, what is it that you wanted to give me?"

"Actually, I have something to tell you before that."

As if she had been expecting it, she looked intently at him, and Juho continued without hesitation, "I think you should be mindful of giving autographs in the hallway."

"What?" Yun Woo asked. It wasn't what she had expected.

"It makes it difficult for others to pass through if there's a crowd of people blocking the way. I think you need to be mindful of that."

Yun Woo spaced out for a moment, but she soon came to her senses and responded, "I see. You're right. I didn't think about that. I'll be careful from now on."

"Oh, this is something I heard from another person. Is it true that you're close to other famous authors?"

After circulating through the school for a while, the rumors she had started eventually reached him. One of them was that Yun Woo let her fans talk on the phone with other authors.

"Yes, it's true. Why, do you have an author you like?"

"Of course. As ordinary as I am, I'm part of the Literature Club."

"Ah, you're in the Literature Club. So who do you like?"

She appeared confident.

"If I tell you, would you let me talk to the author on the phone?"

"If I know the person. But being an author is an incredibly busy job, so I hope you know that they might not be able to answer."

'Of course,' Juho understood her attitude. It was such a cop out answer.

"That's fine then. I don't want to bother someone when they're busy either."

"Thanks for understanding."

He decided to ask her one more question before handing her what he had brought. He personally wanted to hear her answer while the real Yun Woo came face to face with the impostor. There could be something worth noting, so he listened carefully.

"How are you planning on writing the sequel?"

"A sequel?"

She seemed confused by the seemingly random question about a sequel. The book hadn't even been out that long. As usual, however, she gave an adequate answer, "I'm not sure yet. I do have a few ideas in mind."

"What are they?"

"That's it..."

Juho took the initiative before she had a chance to remain discreet, "I'll keep it a secret. So, just tell me."

"... What?"

She became flustered, unlike with her usual, shamelessly confident attitude. Juho was also caught by surprise by the unexpected reaction.

"You seem flustered."

"Well, it's just that you were asking so intently."

"I was?"

Juho had seen worse. She hadn't been flustered like that back then. Her reaction raised a question in his mind.

'Why is she so flustered? What is she flustered by?'

"Secret?"

"What?"

"The thing I asked you to tell me?"

"..."

While staring at her face, Juho replayed what he had just said to her.

'I'll keep it a secret.'

A secret. The meaning of the word was startling her. It tore down her shamelessness and shook her.

There was a rustling sound in Juho's pocket.

'Aha!'

"Did your friend say the same thing?"

"My friend?"

Juho took the paper out of his pocket.

"The friend who found this transcription."

Once she took the paper from him, her face turned pale.

The End

You are reading

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21 Chapter 21 - Yun Woo is in Our School 4

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

"Transcription? That's the original draft!" the impostor insisted. She was probably planning on responding calmly, but she had made a mistake.

Juho continued while smiling, "I guess you did write it."

The impostor became flustered by his words. She finally realized that she had made a mistake, and an implicit sense of anxiety came upon her like a wave.

'No, it's not over yet,' the girl tried desperately to think of a way to escape that situation.

Juho continued as if he were trying to comfort her, "To someone who isn't familiar with transcribing, they might think that this was the original. Unless you're an enthusiast or an aspiring writer, you wouldn't come to think about copying a book."

"I told you, this is the original!"

"And I told you, I'm in the Literature Club."

The girl clenched her hands tightly under her desk, and they were turning pale. If he really was in the Literature Club, he would know. He would know that an original couldn't be that sloppy. He would know that a book couldn't be written from scribbles on a cheap notebook, with no traces of endless anguish and editing on its pages.

Still, she kept on, "I'm not sure what you're trying to say, but if you're going to be unreasonable, you should leave. No, I will."

The girl stood up, rattling her seat. Even then, Juho was still looking down from above. Her pride hurt from having to look up from below.

He blocked her on her way out, and she grimaced at him. Her composure was already lost. Juho replayed the events from a moment ago. Along with a crowd blocking the hallway and students keeping their cell phones to take pictures, the students had been impacted by Yun Woo in many other ways. It was only going to get worse.

Besides, the impostor standing in front of him didn't seem all that happy anymore. For the first time, someone had cast doubt on her. It was a firsthand experience. Though every person seemed to be worshipping her at the moment, it was certain that there were others who doubted her underneath the surface. It was just that for Seo Kwang and Mr. Moon.

The longer she stayed as Yun Woo, the more people's doubts would eventually rise to the surface to suffocate her.

Juho looked up to the ceiling for a brief moment and thought, 'It's probably best for everyone else if I stop her now.'

He moved aside and let her through. As she walked past him, Juho said, "It was a lie that wasn't going to last from the get-go."

The girl stopped in her tracks. Juho had camly declared her end.

"A lie? It's nothing like that!"

"It's not enough to trick your schoolmates. It won't cut it if you are to handle a name like Yun Woo."

"...Why not?" Yun Woo turned around angrily. Her expression was filled with jealousy and a sense of inferiority. "What's so great about Yun Woo that I can't handle? He's just an author. People might call him a genius or 'the youngest author to do this and that,' but he's no more than a writer at the end of the day."

She bit down on her lips. It was over. She might as well have confessed the truth. Yet, Juho nodded with a smile.

"You're right. I don't understand why everyone's going crazy."

"... Really?"

"Yeah."

"Aren't you a fan of Yun Woo?"

"Nope."

"..."

'This guy just agreed with me,' the girl thought in midst of surprise. 'This isn't the end. It's already impossible to trick him. He's the only person who knows that I'm not the real Yun Woo. As long as I keep his mouth shut, I can be rid of this anxiety.'

"Then, can you keep all of this a secret?"

"I don't think so."

Juho turned her down immediately, but the girl continued to beg him.

"How come? I thought you weren't a fan."

"I never said I dislike him."

As she was about to continue, Juho raised his hand to stop her. At that point, there was no point in arguing whether he liked or disliked Yun Woo. He decided to set her free from her illusion.

"Like I said, this was a lie that wasn't meant to last. You're thinking that you just have to keep my mouth shut, right? But think about it. Do you really think I'm the only person you need to worry about?"

Her eyes moved restlessly. She was still having trouble understanding, and Juho calmly explained to her the things she would experience.

"The rumor spread to the teachers too. Your homeroom teacher will be looking for you soon because being Yun Woo is a big plus when moving up to college. You're going to need a document that proves your identity."

"I'll just tell the teacher that I won't be going to college."

Her voice began to shake. Unfortunately, it wasn't that simple.

"Your photo could be an issue too."

"Photo? What photo? I've been telling people not to take pictures of me."

"That won't stop these kids. Do you know how many kids are taking pictures of you from afar without you knowing? They're probably showing it around to their families and friends saying things like 'Yun Woo is in our school. I even got her autograph. This is her photo.' On top of that, do you think they'll stop at families and friends? If they upload their pictures to the internet, this becomes an even bigger issue. Reporters will come looking for you, and the publishing company will probably want confirmation. You'll come out on the news too. At that point, you'd have already been caught, and then some. 'A female fellow high school student who impersonated Yun Woo - I just wanted to be Yun Woo.'"

Her face grew more and more pale.

"No way! That's not true!"

"Yun Woo is a celebrity already. On top of that, he's staying anonymous and refuses every single interview. The reporters are probably dying to talk to him. If your identity becomes known, these people will be in a race to get to you first."

Juho wasn't merely trying to intimidate the girl. The name carried real weight and significance in reality. Having just understood the weight of her predicament, the girl trembled in fear.

"So, you should stop while you can. Your teacher hasn't called for you yet. You haven't had a reporter wanting to interview you either."

"How can I!" lowering her head, the girl screamed desperately. "How can I confess? What would happen to me if I tell everyone that I've was a fake all along?"

"It's probably going to be a tad embarrassing."

"A tad!?"

She was writhing in despair. Being a genius was fascinating. He or she had left behind a beautiful piece of work and received praise from all over. The girl wanted to be a genius like that. One day, Yun Woo suddenly came into existence. Simply put, he was a genius. His work was innocent and pure. Before she knew, she had been captivated by it.

Then the girl began to transcribe his book. She had copied everything that could be found in his book onto her cheap notebook. It was hard to believe that her and Yun Woo were the same age. How could they be so different? She was swept into a storm that made her feel inferior and loathsome. So, she ripped up her notebook. She didn't want to live any longer.

It was a coincidence that her friend had found her notebook. No, she had actually hoped for it to happen. She wanted the name to be hers. She wanted everyone to think that she was the real Yun Woo. She had left her notebook on her desk on purpose and then left it unoccupied.

With the notebook in her hand, the friend asked, "Are you really Yun Woo?"

The girl had hesitated, but her friend continued, "I'll keep it a secret. Just tell me."

So, the girl answered, "Yes, I'm Yun Woo."

It had been thrilling to say those words.

"This is it. It's all over."

Just like that. It had felt so good, but it was all over. The life she knew had crumbled away.

It was a disaster. Her hair covered her face as her head lowered itself. It felt like she was surrounded by darkness. It was suffocating. Nobody could live like that. She wanted to jump off the school building. She wanted to run away. She wanted to end her life.

"Hahaha!"

Laughter.

There was sound of laughter. When she looked up, Juho was laughing with his hands on his belly. 'Is he laughing? Seriously? How can he laugh in a situation like this?'

"Are you laughing because this has nothing to do with you? How could you?! I'm even contemplating my life!"

"Over this? It's fine. You'll be fine."

"What?"

'What is this guy thinking. Does he not know what I've been doing? How can he say that it's going to be fine?'

"You were just so shameless when you were giving out your autograph, so I thought you would have the guts to survive through the troubles of being a celebrity."

Autographs. She felt a wave of heat traveling up to her face. Her illusion had shattered, and now she was back to reality. A chaotic storm of shame and humiliation had overcome her mind.

'I can't. I can't tell the truth. I just want to die.'

As if he were able to see the state of her heart, Juho said, "You know that it only gets worse the longer you stall, right?"

"I don't know! I don't care!"

Juho continued through her confusion, "Would you like to know why you weren't able to handle living as Yun Woo?"

"What are you talking about?"

She was already aware of the truth. She didn't need to be told that she wasn't a genius. She didn't want to be.

"It's because it wasn't your name."

"It wasn't my name?" she asked again, caught off guard by Juho's answer.

"Yes," he affirmed.

"It's folly to live under another person's name. Folly. Do you really want to take your own life over something like that?"

"Folly," she muttered after Juho. 'Folly. Living under another person's name.' His words were floating around in her thoughts. Something felt quite empty. At the same time, she felt her burden had lightened.

'What is this? Was I burdened by something?"

Her mouth hung idiotically, and Juho laughed again at the sight.

"Well, you might have to reimburse a handful of people who got their books signed. Oh! And you should expect some people wanting to beat you at night. You might even have nightmares about it. You did do something that was rather stupid."

"Stupid."

Nothing had been solved. If anything, her life was now full of things to make up for. There was not a single piece of good news.

"I've been stupid all along… Haha!" she laughed simply, like an idiot.

*

Mr.Moon went into the classroom to begin his lesson. Class 7, it was the class Yun Woo was in, supposedly.

As usual, he opened his book and began his lesson. On the other hand, he was looking around the classroom. Frankly, he was looking at one particular student, Ina Jang. She was the student who was supposedly known as Yun Woo. The mole on her cheek made her stand out among the others. As if she had been told a joke before class, she had been snickering throughout the lesson. The mole on her cheek moved up and down as she did.

Mr. Moon called out a student to wake him up from the after-lunch slumber. Then, he asked him to answer a question from the textbook. After some thought, he answered with a mischievous smile, "Mr. M, I don't know what the answer is. You should ask Yun Woo."

Though he wasn't intending on it at first, Mr. Moon turned his eyes to Ina. He was curious about how she would respond. After thinking for a brief moment, she stood up.

"I'm not Yun Woo."

There was silence. Even the students who were laughing at first began to grasp the situation one by one. Ina continued, "I'm not Yun Woo."

She wasn't crying or smiling. She confessed as if she were sharing a fact.

"The real Yun Woo is probably..."

'The real Yun Woo is probably somebody like that guy. Somebody who can change a person's heart in the blink of an eye. Juho Woo was it?' Ina thought as she looked around.

The students were dumbfounded. Some were fiercely glaring at her as if they had suspected it. There was chaos in the classroom. Ina clenched her fists and stood still. She didn't want to run away from that.

"You're a psycho!" One student said. Ina remembered her. It was the student who had asked for a special note.

"Psycho. Idiot. Potato, potahto."

"What?"

Ina decided to stop her foolishness. She lowered head and apologized to the class.

"I was stupid. I'm sorry. I wanted attention. If I signed your book, bring it to me, and I'll get you a new copy. Again, I apologize. I'm sorry."

The class was filled with confusion. Mr. Moon grasped the situation and sighed. He had been somewhat looking forward to meeting Yun Woo in person.

Mr. Moon resumed his lesson.

*

"Finally, some peace and quiet," Seo Kwang said as he looked out at the empty hallway.

Juho agreed. Things had settled down at school since the appearance and the exit of the impostor, at least on the surface.

Since it had been revealed that Ina Jang was not the real Yun Woo, everyone who claimed to be her fan had turned away from her. Among the group were her friends who first called her Yun Woo.

"Is that girl doing OK?"

"Who?"

"You know, the impostor. Ina Jang was it?"

"Why do you ask me?"

Seo Kwang asked back with a confused look on his face, "Didn't you go to Class 7 during lunch?"

"What makes you think that?" Juho asked curiously, blinking his eyes in surprise.

"She confessed in front of her class right after you disappeared during lunch. I thought you had something to do with it."

"I think you need to base your thoughts on something more solid."

"I had a feeling, to be frank. It wasn't you though?"

Though he described his thought to be a mere feeling, Seo Kwang was getting a strong impression that Juho was somehow involved. It might have been that he had a strange image of Juho after his bet with Baron. Nevertheless, Juho gave an affirming nod to Seo Kwang's question.

"I did go to Class 7."

"Are you serious? What did you do to make her confess?"

"You know, this and that."

Juho didn't say much. Being the quick-witted person he was, Seo Kwang rephrased the question, this time, focusing on the present.

"So, how's she handling the aftermath?"

"It seems like she's reimbursing others for the books she signed for now."

Thinking about the kids who were criticizing Ina, Seo Kwang asked again, "I saw her eating alone earlier. Aren't you going to eat with her?"

Juho snickered at him, "Apparently, she's always been eating alone, even as Yun Woo. She didn't want my company."

"Of course. I guess she did have the guts to steal Yun Woo's name all along."

With his chin, Juho pointed outside, through the window. Wearing her P.E. uniform, Ina was standing on the schoolyard, and Seo Kwang turned his eyes to her.

"Who's that?"

"I don't know. A girl who's into special things?"

Ina was having a conversation with another girl. It was clear that they weren't talking about pleasant things.

"It looks super serious."

The two girls were now scowling at each other. On the other hand, not one person looked away.

"You never know how a relationship will turn out."

"What are you saying? What the, they're fighting! They're grabbing each other by the hair!"

"They're going to be famous."

Everyone focused their attention at the brawl in the schoolyard. Regardless of their year, a crowd of people gathered around the two in a circle.

A few days later, she was no longer eating alone.

The End

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The Great Storyteller

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22 Chapter 22 - Injured, Discretion, Non-permanent Marker

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

"Word chain, go! Next member."

"Huh? Me?"

Although he was caught off guard by Mr. Moon's sudden shouting, Seo Kwang calmly thought of a word. Juho had been just as confused. For someone who started something in such an abrupt manner, Mr. Moon looked peaceful. With a piece of chalk in his hand, he waited for Seo Kwang's answer.

"I, injured."

Then Seo Kwang looked at Juho. While observing Mr. Moon's expression, Juho continued after Seo Kwang.

"Discretion."

Then, he looked at Baron, who complained about having to participate and then said, "Non-permanent markers."

*TL Note: (유성펜 would be a permanent marker, but I'm going with non-permanent for the continuity sake.)*

"OK! We'll stop there."

The end of the game was just as sudden as the beginning. Everyone looked at Mr. Moon, waiting for an explanation. Mr. Moon wrote down the three words on the chalkboard and then looked at the club members.

"Starting now, you're going to write something using these three words."

"What?!" Sun Hwa complained loudly.

Although the others kept quiet, their expressions weren't exactly bright either. Even Baron had a surprised look on his face, but as usual, Juho remained composed.

Writing based on a suggested topic was a commonly used format in essay contests. Of course, word chain was a lousy method for coming up with multiple topics. Thanks to Mr. Moon's creative approach, the result was complete nonsense: injured, discretion, and non-permanent marker.

Mr. Moon didn't wait for the members to come to their senses. He continued on with his instructions.

"The time limit is thirty minutes. You'll be writing in prose."

"Thirty minutes?!" everyone complained about not getting enough time.

Without budging, Mr. Moon explained his reasoning behind that seemingly impossible time limit, "This is training to minimize hesitation in your writing."

"You mean we're not working on our writing style?"

"That's a given. One inevitably becomes a better writer the more he or she writes. The more you write, the better you get. Simple and honest. In other words, whatever the training is, what matters is that you write. I've said this before."

The members nodded. They remembered it from their first day.

"The problem is, writing isn't that simple. You start getting ambitious. You're going to want to write well, but you're not going to know what to write about. Well, maybe it's a little weird to say 'you're going to want to write well.' I don't really like the sound of that. You won't be able to write a single line."

A story came to completion after countless revisions. In order for revisions to take place, there had to be a draft: the very first completed draft.

Nobody wrote a perfect draft from the get-go. The members had to complete their first draft with the assumption that there would be revisions down the line. It was not an easy task.

"So, thirty minutes. There's no time to be idle. Just start writing. Don't worry about fixing things at the moment. You guys are good at procrastinating, right?"

"It is our specialty," Juho answered.

Even as the students understood Mr. Moon, they complained all the same, "Is there enough time to even think?"

"Don't even worry about that. I won't start the timer until you all start writing. That means everyone's timer will start accordingly. Start writing once you've put enough thought into it."

As he spoke, Mr. Moon brought out four timers from a corner of the room. Now, there was nothing to complain about.

"Now, begin."

At Mr. Moon's mark, the members began to brainstorm. For the time being, Juho wrote down the three keywords on the top of his paper: injured, discretion, non-permanent marker.

Everyone had been complaining that thirty minutes wouldn't be enough time, but Juho thought otherwise. If there wasn't enough time, then he simply had to write something short.

"What do I do? Injured, injured… Maybe there needs to be some sort of an accident."

"You just had to pick that word, huh?" Sun Hwa said to Seo Kwang as he frantically repeated the same word to himself.

"I think it's better than non-permanent marker."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, Baron."

As she struggled, Sun Hwa moved her eyes restlessly like she had thought of something. She had thought of a girl who had been stranded. She wanted to write a story about her escape in search of freedom (or discretion).

'Injured. What if the story takes place in a hospital? The only word left is the 'non-permanent marker.' Non-permanent. Non-permanent marker. A girl trapped in a hospital and a non-permanent marker…'

After a brief moment of thought, Sun Hwa started writing as if she had given up thinking any further.

'I'm sure things will come as I write,' she thought. Her timer started ticking.

Bom hurried as she watched Sun Hwa. Struggling to come up with an idea, she looked around the room just as Mr. Moon had previously taught. That moment, her eyes stopped at Baron's sketch book.

'Drawing, non-permanent marker,' Bom focused her perspective onto Baron's drawing and then dug deeper into her thoughts.

The mind was fascinating in the sense that it craved something that the body was incapable of doing. For example, one could feel the urge to go for a run after hurting his leg, or have the urge to draw after hurting his hand.

Although she was concerned about whether she would be able to write everything in time, Bom held her pen and started writing.

"What the, did you all start writing already?"

"You can think all you want."

"Still, I feel like I'm in a hurry. You're not exactly in a position to be talking either, you know?"

It was no wonder, considering that Juho hadn't written anything other than the three keywords. Juho and Seo Kwang were the only two who still hadn't come up with an idea. Despite that, Juho seemed like he had all the time in the world.

As he rushed Juho, Seo Kwang exclaimed, "Ah!" He had thought of something. He had thought of a story that could thoroughly embrace the three keywords.

"I'll be going now, my friend."

"You could've waited a little longer."

After heartlessly abandoning his friend, Seo Kwang started writing down his ideas in a hurry.

'What would discretion mean to a student? It'd be absence. Not going to school.'

The thought alone made his heart beat, but Seo Kwang didn't stop there. There were still two other keywords.

'So this guy writes a letter home on his way out. He uses a non-permanent marker of course. Then, should I make this about a teenage runaway? If I were to make him injured, a car accident probably makes the most sense.'

Although he wasn't sure if he was capable of handling such a story, Seo Kwang kept on writing, remembering Mr. Moon's wise words.

'I can always change things later. I trust you, my future self,' he thought.

"Everyone's working hard," Juho murmured. At the sight all the members lost in writing, Juho slowly picked up his pen. Injured, discretion, non-permanent marker.

It was his first time writing with a group of people. Juho was getting excited. He concentrated and then pinpointed the thoughts that were signaling him in his mind.

In a brief moment, he began to fill up his page.

'One day, my parents told me a story of my grandfather, who had passed away before I was born. He was brave and, at the same time, wise.

'I wanted to meet him, but it was impossible to bring back the dead. So, I gave up.

'I learned to talk and write. As I read, I learned that there were many types people that exist in a book. The good, the bad, the smart, the foolish, the successful, the unfortunate, the healthy, the sick, young, old, and then those who are alive, and those who are dead.

'I started writing. It was about my grandfather. He transcended time and space and then overcame death to meet me.

'Nothing was in my way. Having regards for others was not necessary. I had realized that. Writing is a discretion. It is an immense freedom that ignores various theories and rules. In that case, wouldn't it be possible to share that freedom with another person?

'I stopped what I was writing and went outside.'

'Outside,' thought Juho. 'What's out there?'

He reached into the depths of his heart and dipped his hand into his stream of inspiration. Juho knew he'd find what he was looking for in there. He had to write appropriately. It wasn't going to be long from the start, so the story couldn't have too much depth. It would be foolish to tackle it in a hurry.

Finally, Juho found what he was looking for. He had to pull it out onto the surface now.

"Hey."

He thought for a moment. He had lost it.

"Hey, hey."

'That was disappointing.' Juho looked up and saw Sun Hwa. He set aside his dazedness and answered her with a smile, "Hey, you called?"

"Did you say snakes have 400 ribs before?" she asked.

"Ah, yes. Apparently, they have more than 400."

"I see. Thank you. You may proceed."

After a brief moment of gratitude, Sun Hwa went back to writing, and Juho thought absent-mindedly, 'There must be a snake in her story, a snake with more than 400 ribs.'

He turned his eyes to his paper again. The page was filled with the words he had written up to that point. Although he had just written them, they felt foreign for some reason. It was like looking at food that had gone bad. One was bound to get sick if he ate it.

Seeing that Juho had suddenly stopped, Seo Kwang asked, "What's the matter? Is something wrong with your paper?"

"No. There is no problem."

There was no problem with the paper. Then, Juho heard a conversation between Bom and Sun Hwa.

"I'm stuck here. How do include non-permanent marker?"

"Hm, I'm not sure either. Well, the story is taking place in a hospital, so what if you make a doctor or a nurse use it?"

"That sounds good."

They were discussing how they could get around their writer's block. Mr. Moon did not intervene by any means. His intention was to let each writer take ownership of what they were writing. Sun Hwa had decided on a psychiatric hospital as the setting of her story.

The comic she had been reading up until recently also took place in a psychiatric hospital. Then, she asked Juho for an outside opinion, and he answered with a question, "What do think about using it as a secret code?"

"A secret code?"

"Yeah. You're writing about an escape, right? You don't always have to treat non-permanent marker as an object. For example, let's say there's a code necessary to escape, and the word non-permanent marker is part of it."

It wouldn't be odd to have a secret code or two in a story about an escape.

"That's kind of cool."

"That's a great idea!"

Bom and Seo Kwang answered in sequence. 'Since when had he been listening?'

Sun Hwa's face brightened up as she frivolously complimented Juho, "You're my muse!"

"I really appreciate that."

He waved his hand at her exaggerated expression. The writing writes itself. If Sun Hwa hadn't interrupted him, Juho wouldn't have had that inspiration. Sun Hwa had been the one who had asked for an outside opinion.

Besides, no matter how great the story was, translating it into a compelling writing was a different story.

'They'll do well. They know what they're doing,' thought Juho.

He slowly moved his pen. As he wrote, Juho noticed that he wasn't feeling the same as he did a moment prior. In other words, there wasn't motivation.

There were sounds of pens hitting the surface of the desk. The clock was ticking away. There was a distant shouting from the schoolyard. No matter how hard he tried, Juho couldn't focus.

"Haha!"

In the end, Juho wrapped up his story with the protagonist being injured after tripping on a non-permanent marker.

After collecting the finished drafts, Mr.Moon left the room. The entire club knew that he had gone to the staffroom. Being a teacher was much more than taking care of his or her students.

Juho was the only person who had finished his story within the given time limit, while the other three had barely finished their story after begging for extensions.

After it was over, it had taken more than two hours for Mr. Moon to collect all of the completed drafts. Seeing how he wasn't forcefully collecting the papers, he must have been aware that most of the members wouldn't be able to finish in time. The thirty-minute time limit had been a form of device to allow the club members to write continuously and without hesitation.

Seo Kwang complained, "Thirty minutes was really pushing it."

"I thought it was plenty of time."

"Shut up. Let's see how well you did."

Knowing his product all too well, Juho said no more and shrugged his shoulders.

The End.

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23 Chapter 23 - Elaborate and Thorough

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

Juho stared out of the window of the bus as the scenery rushed past him. Countless publishing companies stood at its destination. Along with publishing companies, there were also tens of print shops and large-scale book distribution companies, all making up one large publishing district. On top of that, there were used bookstores and book cafes throughout.

He got off the bus before it arrived at its last stop. He wasn't planning on going to the publishing company that day. Rather, he was on his way to a lunch meeting with his editor.

'It was definitely around here somewhere.'

After walking for some time, the sight of a familiar street met Juho's eyes. Just around the corner of that familiar street, there was a small Korean restaurant. In front it, Nam Kyung Park had come out to meet Juho, who was happy to see him.

"How you doin'?"

"You made it in one piece."

Nam Kyung greeted Juho while pushing his glasses up onto his nose. In his mid-thirties, he was a capable editor who was responsible for working with several big-name authors.

As the two went inside, they were met with other customers having their meals. They walked past them and went into a room with a sliding door. When the door closed, the sound of the outside world faded away. That was one of the reasons why Nam Kyung preferred that restaurant.

"I guess we won't have to worry about people eavesdropping on our conversation here."

"Of course! For a restaurant, their walls are thick."

Once Juho and Nam Kyung secured a spot, the waitress, who had come into the room with them, brought them a menu. After ordering a light meal, Nam Kyung asked Juho, "So, how are things? Has your cover blown yet?"

It was a slightly playful question, and Juho answered with a smile, "I don't even have to try. Nobody suspects me."

"Haha! I was looking forward to hearing some stories."

"In that case, I do have a thing or two."

"Like what?" Nam Kyung urged him.

He was quite friendly, but at the same time, he wasn't overbearing. It was a proof that Nam Kyung was a skilled editor. Maintaining a relationship with an author was an important part of his job description.When it came to interpersonal interaction, Nam Kyung was exceptional at keeping an appropriate distance. Feeling at home, Juho shared the stories of the things that happened at school.

"Kids are scary nowadays," Nam Kyung said in response to Juho's story about the fight between the two girls. His eyes were filled with interest.

"How about you? Do you have anything?"

"You want to hear a story about working overtime?"

It was a roundabout way of saying that he didn't have a story. He added that working overtime as an editor was as normal as daily meals.

"I just came from proofreading a draft up until a moment ago."

"You spend a lot of time doing it, don't you?"

"I can't stand misprints."

Nam Kyung was strangely obsessed with misprints. There were always flaws in all books. There were times when the wrong word ended up getting used. There were times when a typo ended up in the final print. Although books went through tens of inspections, there was always something that had been overlooked. Nam Kyung was tormented whenever he found such oversights. For that reason, he spent more time and energy into proofreading. The recent trend among publishing companies was to outsource the proofreading process. The editor's responsibility started at project planning and coordination. In other words, there was enormous workload. There was a limit to how much a single editor was capable of achieving. Yet, Nam Kyung would always say, "I want to make books that are both elaborate and thorough."

"Even then, there will always be misprints."

People made mistakes, and books were made by people. It was inevitable to find misprints in a book. Everyone writhed in pain at first, but soon came to terms with the reality. However, Nam Kyung was adamant.

"That's why you keep proofreading until there are no more misprints."

Juho felt secure as an author to be working with an editor like him.

"You work so hard."

"I'm still single, thanks to my work," Nam Kyung complained light-heartedly. Even for somebody whose dream was to make books both elaborate and thorough, working overtime was deeply undesirable.

"Your meal's ready."

The sliding door opened, and the waitress put down her tray. Along with various side dishes, Juho's tofu soup and Nam Kyung's pollack stew had been placed on the table. An intoxicating smell wafted into Juho's nose, and the two picked up their spoons.

"This is great!"

"Right?!"

Juho exclaimed after taking his first bite, and Nam Kyung answered with a proud expression on his face. He seemed happy about bringing in another satisfied customer to his favorite restaurant.

As they ate quietly, Juho suddenly thought of something that Nam Kyung had said in the past.

"Wait! Now that I think about it, didn't you say you worked with Hyun Do Lim in the past?"

"Yes I have," Nam Kyung reminisced as he shoved a big spoonful into his mouth. He remembered how nervous he was when he met the author for the first time. "Why do you ask? Are you a fan?"

If he put it that way, then perhaps. He was incomparable as an author to Juho in terms of both experience and skill.

"I'm in the middle of transcribing one of his works. I just thought I should ask."

"Transcribing?" Nam Kyung asked as if it were unexpected. Soon, he nodded as an expression of acceptance, but there was still suspicion in his face. "Authors often transcribe as well. I see. You transcribing Hyun Do Lim's book..."

"What's with your expression though?"

Nam Kyung thought for a brief moment and said, "I just had a thought that you and Hyun Do Lim might fall under a same category."

"What do you mean?"

Nam Kyung started telling his story about the author, "Mr. Lim is… How should I describe him? He is very delicate, yet broad-minded and friendly. But rough around the edges at the same time."

"That description… You should be an author."

"I know. All in all, he's a respectable figure."

Juho knew that much. Reading his book had always aroused a sense of respect in him.

'What had Nam Kyung's meant by putting him and Mr. Lim into the same category? If he had meant it as an compliment, he would be incredibly overestimating.'

"But you're not."

"Is that right?"

It was a relief and a pity at the same time.

"Except for one thing, if we're talking about similarity between you and Mr. Lim."

"If?"

There was a prolonged silence. In the meantime, Juho had another spoonful of his soup. It was smooth and spicy.

"I'm not too sure."

"Why would you even bring it up then," Juho murmured silently.

"I can't pinpoint it, but I have a feeling. I can only explain it as an editor's intuition."

"That was disappointing. You should stick to being an editor."

"I appreciate that."

Throughout their meal, Juho and Nam Kyung talked about the decrease in the reading population or a certain publishing company going out of business.

"So, are you still against having your book made into a show or a movie?"

"Yes," while helping himself with side dishes, Juho answered and stopped in his track.

That was one of the topics that had come up while the two were making plans for lunch over the phone, which meant that there was a studio interested in purchasing the copyright. Since he was already aware of the outcome, Juho declined at once.

Nam Kyung said quietly, "If you agree to it, your book will be made into a motion picture. There will be famous actors playing the major characters. It's a book written by Yun Woo, so they'll really make sure not to mess with the original too much. They'll invest a lot of money into it too."

Nam Kyung was obviously trying to lure Juho in, but Juho answered with a smile, "It's not easy to adapt a novel."

At Juho's rigid attitude, Nam Kyung immediately changed his posture as he murmured, "I knew you weren't as immature as you let on. This is a really a mouth-watering opportunity from the promotional point of view."

"I didn't know that my book needed publicizing? It's already doing really well," Juho answered light-heartedly, but Nam Kyung returned with a serious face.

"There's no end to corporate greed. You need to ride the wave while your book is doing well."

Marketing. Juho fully understood Nam Kyung's perspective. Of course, promoting a product was an essential element of sales. That was no different in the publishing industry. If anything, the power of marketing was much greater in publishing.

That was the reason why editors built relationships with bookstore employees in an offline capacity while putting up with incredibly temperamental literature merchandisers online.

That also applied to gaining exposure for a book.

It was common for a publishing company to compete for the most visible spot in the bookstore. Some companies even paid bookstores for a display stand. The amount ranged from hundreds up to thousands.

The online market was exactly the same way. It was crucial for online bookstores to work with a merchandiser because they had the ultimate authority in terms of exposure. It was a struggle to earn the title of 'Merchandiser's Recommendation.' That title spoke louder than any other form of advertisement. It was an opportunity that no publishing company could afford to lose. For that reason, there was an obvious contractual relationship between a merchandiser and a business, which explained the occasional buying-spree controversies. Once a book entered into the bestseller ranking, there was a noticeable increase in sales as well as promotion.

Juho was well aware of that situation, and he had a reason to turn down the offer to adapt his book.

"They're not adapting the story in its entirety. Once the story is made into a screenplay, things are bound to be taken out. I don't really know how the director will interpret my book either. The thought makes me uneasy."

"I guess you have a point."

"I'm sure they'll emphasize the romance."

"You don't know that. Don't you think you'll have a better idea once you talk to these people in person?" Nam Kyung asked.

He wasn't aware that Juho's decision was based on his life experience. He had said the same thing in the past, "You'll know better once you talk to these people." However, that wasn't true.

"This is when my age works as a disadvantage."

Back then, Juho's mind was as old as his age, seventeen. Communication had not been possible between an adult who's a skilled negotiator and the seventeen year old Juho.

The studio was a well-known company with several major works, so Juho's expectation had been through the roof. It had been like a dream to have real actors performing the story that he wrote.

However, the result had been far from his expectations.

In the end, 'The Trace of a Bird' had left a legacy as a failed example in novel cinematization. Unlike his usual self, even Nam Kyung had had a bitter expression on his face then. As a book enthusiast himself and the editor in charge of the book, he must have felt terrible.

"If its a request made by the author himself, they'll listen. If dealing with adults is too much for you, I can go on your behalf."

"I don't know," Juho answered vaguely. "I'm not really looking to make things complicated either."

Although the situation was different this time, Juho wasn't really looking to make any demands. Even if he decided to actively involve himself in the production to make sure the movie did well, he felt that he wasn't going to be genuinely happy.

'Well, maybe things could be different if a director approached him saying that he wanted to try to make 'The Trace of a Bird' into a movie with all his heart. That would probably never happen, however.'

"I'm sorry to say this, but I'm not interested."

"It's your work. There's nothing to be sorry about."

Recognizing that he couldn't convince Juho, Nam Kyung brought the water cup to his mouth. He must have been doing a lot between Juho and the publishing company. Juho turned his attention to his tofu soup and slowly finished his meal.

"Done?"

"Yes."

"How about a cup of coffee before you go?"

"I'm always up for that."

After paying for the meal and the dessert, Nam Kyung went back to his work. On his way, he groaned in misery at having to work overtime again.

The End

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24 Chapter 24 - Language Acquisition Device

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

Before returning home, Juho decided to make a brief visit to the bookstore. There was something he needed to buy.

On his way to a bookstore nearby, a foreigner caught Juho's eyes. Her antsy behavior made it obvious that she was lost. Whenever she tried to reach out to talk to someone, people would walk away in a hurry. If things had been anything like how they used to be, Juho probably would have done the same.

However, with the language acquisition device in his head, Juho was now able to face that foreigner's language with confidence.

"Do you need help?" he asked the foreigner in English.

Her eyes sparkled upon hearing her native tongue, and the foreigner answered back in English, "Yes, please! I'm looking for a lodging location named 'Arabia,' but I have no clue on how to get there."

"Hm, one moment."

Juho had never heard of the place. After a brief moment thinking, he lead the foreigner into a nearby real estate office. A drowsy employee jumped out of his seat at their presence.

"Could you give me directions to a lodging location named 'Arabia?'"

"Ah, yes! One moment."

The employee searched for something in a hurry. Upon finding the place, he pointed to the location using a map on the wall. Juho translated simultaneously as the employee explained how the place could be reached and felt the employee staring at him in amazement.

"Oh, I know this place. It was across that one grocery store. I've been walking around this area in a circle."

The foreigner smiled brightly. She must have been scared of getting lost in a foreign country.

"Have a great trip!"

"Oh, thank you so much! This is why I can't stop travelling even though I get lost every time."

Saying that a helper could always be found, she went on her way after thanking Juho. He waved as she turned around. The brief relationship had come to an end, and Juho too made his way back to the bookstore.

The large bookstore was booming with people. He walked past the long line of people waiting for their turn at the cashier. 'The Trace of a Bird' was on display on the first rack that crossed Juho's eyes. People standing in front of the rack were examining the book. After watching them briefly, Juho turned back.

It had been a while since he had been to a bookstore. Wanting to peruse, Juho walked over to the literature section. The books were divided by the authors' names, and they were all famous writers.

As he scanned through the books, Juho stopped in front of one author's name, Dong Gil Uhm. Right next to it was another author named Seo Joong Ahn. The bookstore might have placed them very close to each other deliberately.

Those two authors were a renowned duo in the literature world.

Their history went back to their birth. They were born two months apart in the same neighborhood and went to the same school throughout elementary, middle school, and high school. Dong Gil Uhm had revealed in his essay that he and his friend Seo Joong Ahn had been in the same class six times in the past.

Their path seemed to finally split in their college years, but Seo Joong Ahn ended up getting thrown out of his dorm. In the end, he stayed at Dong Gil Uhm's house through university.

Now, those two friends were working in the same field as authors. Both had become successful in their profession, and their friendship was truly inseparable.

Juho had read a novel that had been co-written by the two authors. It had been a popular read then, and that had been rightfully so. Juho had enjoyed it a lot. Written by two, polar-opposite people, that book had brought about a sensation that was both hot and cold.

"Dong Gil Uhm."

Juho had read his work quite a bit when he had been older. Most of his books were based on true events, and his expressions, too, were realistic. His satire was honest, cold, and sharp. His style was both concise and masculine. Once in an interview, Dong Gil Uhm had revealed that he looked up to Ernest Hemingway.

Juho picked up a book and felt the coolness of the cover. The book was named 'Genius.' Though he had planned on looking at it briefly at first, he ended up buying the book out of impulse.

He walked into the specialized section. On the floor, there was a person sitting down, reading. Juho walked past his legs and kept on walking. The shelves were divided into categories. After scanning through them one by one, he eventually found the words he had been looking for: original language.

There was no one around. Because it was in the inner part of a section, the original language shelf was shaded by the surrounding shelves. The books were in various languages, and the section gave off a secretive vibe. Perhaps, it had something to do with the shelf being in the shade.

English, Chinese, Japanese, French, Spanish, German, Latin, Russian, Finnish… These books were written in a wide variety of languages. Some were written in languages that weren't as well known, like Welsh, Scandinavian, Gothic, and Lombardian. Juho had the urge to buy each and every one, but he had made up his mind to limit himself to three books.

After some contemplation, he picked up a book written in Japanese. There were adorable characters on its red cover. Thanks to that book, the secretive vibe of the section vanished completely.

In the first page, there were Katakana and Hiragana.

'Click.'

There was a sound in Juho's head as soon as he began reading the book. It was the sound of a button being pushed.

The device began to work. The next page, and then another page. The pace of the turning pages was picking up, and Juho's device was acquiring the universal grammar of the Japanese language.

"Hello. Nice to meet you. Did you eat? Waste of resources. Destruction of the environment. What is your opinion? What day is it today? It's a holiday. It's snowing out. Clear skies. Have a seat. Should we have a drink? I'm in a good mood. Thank you."

As Juho murmured random phrases in Japanese, the man reading on the floor glimpsed over at him. Ignoring him, Juho engulfed himself in the fascinating sensation in his head.

It was like smelling with his nose.

The language acquisition device detected the scent of a language. It was a natural process.

Juho pulled out another book from the shelf. German. The book had been written specifically for travellers, 'Guten Tag.' From basic greetings to flight, lodging, restaurants, shopping, transportation, phone and emergencies, the book was organized into categories.

'Click.'

There was that sound again. Juho tried to focus his attention at his head. It somewhat felt like there was heat radiating from his temple.

After reading through several books, Juho picked up three of them. They were in German, French, and Spanish. He planned on learning as many other languages as he could.

The cashier was quiet, and Juho paid for his books without much trouble.

*

"Mr. James. I'm here to get your stuff."

Juho went into the English class. It was a class being taught by James, the native English instructor. Since the centipede incident, Juho had started talking to James frequently. After discovering, in the process, that Juho was extremely interested in the English language, James told him that he would provide him with resources on Medieval and Old English, and Juho gladly accepted his offer.

"Give me a moment. I'm in the middle of transferring the data. It's almost done," James answered him in a natural English. He was already aware of Juho's level of skill.

In response, Juho replied in English, "Sure. Do you think I'll be able to pick it up before club activities?"

"Of course! Here, done!"

He handed back the flash drive he had borrowed from Juho. In the flash drive, Juho would probably find the history of the English language that James had studied as a student. He picked it up with a grateful heart.

"If you get stuck, come find me. I did put in some notes, but it's still not an easy read."

"Great, thank you!"

"You don't have to thank me. Now, I feel like an actual a teacher. Dealing with drowsy students is so boring that it makes me yawn," James said as he pretended to yawn.

It was an exaggerated gesture, but Juho saw a resemblance with someone in his struggle of developing an affection for school life, "Are you close with Mr. Moon by any chance?"

"He helped me out a few times when I was studying Korean. We ate together too. The pork belly was delicious."

It was slightly amusing to picture the two grilling together. James lowered his voice and asked Juho discreetly, "Did you know that Mr. Moon hates boiled carrots? I saw him separating them from his food and setting them aside."

"Boiled Carrots."

He hadn't seemed like a picky eater. That was unexpected.

"I made fun of his appetite, and he got angry, asking where I had learned to say things like that. Thanks to him, I learned a new verb in Korean."

'What an amazing teacher.' As James was about to continue, the door opened. Juho turned around and saw Mr. Moon standing with a stack of printer paper. 'I guess he's not all that gentlemanly-like afterall,' he thought.

"Hi."

"Mr. Moon, why come here?" following Juho's greeting, James asked Mr.Moon with his slightly awkward Korean pronunciation.

After looking at the two, one after the other, he waved the stack of papers in his hand.

"The printer in the staffroom isn't working, so that's why I'm here. What are you doing here, Juho? Isn't it time for club activities?"

"I'm here to learn English."

"I don't recall you being so diligent. You never came to me, and I never saw you in the staffroom."

There he went again with his blunt remarks.

"I'm interested in the English language."

Mr. Moon seemed to be surprised by Juho's answer. At that moment, James spoke up, "Juho is a hard-working student. He's highly skilled in the language. He has a deep understanding of the English language. He speaks with me mostly in English."

"Is that so? I had no idea. What do you guys talk about usually?"

"There's really no preference from our daily lives to current events. At times, we talk about the centipede that we let go out into the backyard. He's very fun to be around."

Mr. Moon said as he rubbed his chin, "Then I must've heard it right when I heard my name come up."

"Hm. Um. Mr. Moon's words. I don't understand. What?" James was at loss of words. It was one of those moments when his Korean was put to to the test.

Juho decided to leave the room to not be a hindrance between the two. As he attempted to sneak out, Mr.Moon caught him like a hawk and said, "You were on your way to the science room, weren't you? Let's go together."

"Yes, Mr. Moon."

Until Mr.Moon finished with his business, Juho kept fiddling with his flash drive in his pocket. As Mr. Moon and Juho went on their way, James said brightly, "Come again."

"Take care."

After nodding lightly, the two went out to the hallway.

It was quiet. The students had already gone into their respective classrooms. Juho had lost track of time talking to James. If Mr. Moon hadn't shown up, he would've been late. 'I should be careful from now on,' thought Juho.

While walking quietly, Mr. Moon spoke up, "I read your paper. There was a lot of character and personality in the end."

"Was there?" Juho answered as if he didn't know.

"You must have experience writing."

"Pardon me?"

"There's stability in your sentences. There's no awkwardness, especially in longer sentences. That's impossible to accomplish unless you're an experienced writer. Well, I suppose it could be possible for a prodigy."

Juho hesitated.

The End

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25 Chapter 25 - Focus Till the End

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

Juho carefully observed Mr. Moon's expression. He didn't seem to be suspicious of him being Yun Woo, and Juho slowly opened his mouth.

"I enjoy writing quite a bit."

"Did you learn to write professionally?"

"No."

"Do you read a lot?"

"I do read frequently. Though, I don't read nearly as much as Seo Kwang."

"He's excessive even in my eyes. It's more like a sickness."

Their footsteps echoed throughout the hallway. By the time they had arrived in front of the science room, Mr. Moon said, "Well, today, try working on your conclusion a little bit more."

Then, he flung the door open. With the exception of Juho and Mr. Moon, everyone was already sitting down, and they all stared at them. As Juho went to his seat, Seo Kwang said, "I was wondering why you were running late. I see that you came with Mr. Moon?"

"Yep. We ran into each other on the way."

In front of Juho's seat was the paper he had written previously. He skimmed through the pages for any written annotation of sorts, but the pages were left untouched.

Mr. Moon said, "I enjoyed reading through your papers. Nobody here seemed to be inept. You all exceeded my expectations."

"Inept?"

"You can be inept at writing, just like with dancing and singing," Mr. Moon answered Seo Kwang rhythmically, and he quietly accepted Mr. Moon's answer. "Seo Kwang, you read more books than anybody in this room."

"Yes, that's right," he answered proudly.

It was a matter of pride for him to read regularly and in large quantities. In midst of Seo Kwang's proud moment, Mr. Moon shared his thoughts on his paper, "Because you read so much, your writing skill is pretty decent. It's just that your story tends to be boring at times."

"Really?"

"Try focusing on the dynamics of your story. Whether the story is moving continuously or the climax persists throughout the entire story, it's going to be boring either way."

"Yes, sir."

Mr. Moon moved on to Sun Hwa, "Sun Hwa, I liked that your story unfolds without holding back, but it was too much. There were too many details left out for the reader to be able to follow with ease. From now on, try to consider the reader's perspective more when you write."

"That was too much… Yes, Mr. Moon."

She seemed confused by Mr. Moon's comment, but Juho had a slight idea as to what her paper must have been like. Her story probably moved along in large intervals. The gaps were probably too large for the reader to catch up to the story.

Mr. Moon turned his eyes to Bom, who was sitting next to Sun Hwa, "Bom. You've hit an average mark overall. Your sentence structures and plot weren't too bad. The only issue was that you tend to go overboard with your descriptions in places. Try not to get lost in your own emotions."

"Yes, Mr.Moon," Bom answered timidly as she nodded.

Sun Hwa cheered for her friend for her generally positive review. Juho clapped along. Bom blushed and waved her hands. She was quite the shy girl.

"Now, Juho."

"Yes, Mr. Moon."

"You need to focus till the end."

The ending must have been quite disappointing. As if it hadn't been enough for him to comment on it the first time, Mr. Moon emphasized the ending of Juho's paper again.

'Yes, yes. I'll work on it,' he thought.

"And Baron, nice drawings."

"Yes, sir."

After concluding with compliments on Baron's drawings, Mr. Moon spread out the stack of paper he had had with him since the English class. There were five pages in total, and they were all different. Only, there was one common word between the pages.

"Essay contest?"

They were brochures for an essay contest. They contained information regarding the essay contests that were being held in various places.

"Are we going to be competing in an essay competition?"

"Of course! You're in the Literature Club for goodness sake."

Everyone's faces lit up as they looked at the brochures. A contest was always accompanied by anxiety and excitement.

"There are different types of competition. What it looks like really depends on who's hosting it, including the topic and the format. Some give out an award just for writing your name, whereas others offer a cash prize."

"Cash!" Seo Kwang exclaimed with excitement.

In some cases, bigger competitions offered a large amount of cash to the grand prize winner.

"It's up to you to choose the type of competition you want to participate in. BUT, whatever you sign yourselves up for, there's a contest we all have to participate collectively."

"A mandatory contest? Where's that?" Bom asked, and Mr. Moon spread out his index and pointed to the floor.

"The school competition."

'Ah!' There were sounds of realization.

"When is it?"

"The exact date hasn't been decided yet," Mr. Moon answered Juho. "You guys are familiar with the format. Remember the assignment where you had to use three keywords to write something?"

'Were the topics really injured, discretion, and non-permanent marker?'

"There will be different topics, and you'll have to choose one that you want to write about. This is actually a lot easier than your previous assignment."

"It sounds like it."

It did sound a lot easier than having to utilize three words that had nothing in common. 'What a surprise! Who would have thought he had even been thinking about competing in an essay contest?' On the surface, Mr. Moon appeared to be doing just enough to get by, but he had a thorough side to him.

Sun Hwa interjected and asked, "Are there prizes?"

"Of course!" Mr. Moon continued before anybody had the chance to get excited, "But there's only one winner per class."

Juho hesitated at Mr. Moon's words. 'One winner per class.' He turned to Seo Kwang automatically, and he, too, was looking at Juho.

"Are we having a showdown?"

The words didn't sound like they came out from Seo Kwang's or Juho's mouth. Sun Hwa, who was sitting right across from them, had said it. Thinking about it, Bom was in the same class as her.

"Showdown, huh?! That sounds dignified."

"What?! It is a showdown. You two should compete too. It's fun," Sun Hwa answered Juho after hearing his murmur.

At that moment, an unexpected competitor quietly joined in, "Sounds good! Should we make a bet?"

It was Baron, who quietly emphasized the idea of betting.

"Come on, Baron. We're still students," Juho snuck himself out of the group, but the others joined in on Baron's suggestion with excitement. They just didn't know better.

"Yeah, let's make a bet. Loser buys something for the winner."

"Oh, come on! I'm not into things that cost me money," Seo Kwang's face bittered as he appealed to his financial situation.

"Is it because you're afraid somebody might ask you to buy them a house?"

"Oh, nooo! You got me."

"Guys, let's discuss this in peace," Bom stopped Seo Kwang and Sun Hwa as the tension rose.

After listening to everyone, Mr. Moon added, "The winner gets a fried chicken from me."

Juho laughed on the inside. 'Who would compete for that?' he thought. Yet, as if mocking his thoughts, the science room exploded in loud, excited voices.

"Yes!"

"Sweet!"

"Wow, fried chicken!"

Even Bom's face was lighting up. The response was tremendous. With Juho at a loss for words, Baron raised his hand, "Am I getting that prize too?"

"Sure, if you win an award."

At the bewildering conversation, Juho asked him, "Baron, are you planning on writing?"

"I've done it once, and I can do it again. Besides, it's fried chicken."

"Oh, yes! That's what I like to hear!"

Among the members united by fried chicken, Juho found himself feeling left out. 'Wow, they're going crazy over fried chicken.' They were still kids after all.

For a moment, Juho reminisced about his past. He thought about a sports day in elementary school when the entire school competed for a whole pizza.

"OK, that's enough. If you want fried chicken, you know what to do, right?"

"Are we doing word chain again today?" Sun Hwa asked, and of course, Mr. Moon nodded.

"Until it gets old. Maybe we should play a syllable game next."

"Why a game?" Seo Kwang asked.

"I wanted to prove that even a word that came out as coincidence can be turned into a writing prompt, even if it came out during a game. I'll show you that every word in existence can be turned into a composition."

"I see."

After accepting his answer, the members thought in unison that Mr. Moon was going to unnecessary lengths to prove his point. At that moment, Mr. Moon shouted the first word, "Pot!"

"Huh? What the… OK, pot. Uh… um… Tree pipit! Think wisely this time!"

*TL's Note: Again, different words for continuity*

Sun Hwa pointed to Seo Kwang as the next contestant. Although he knew that anything he said could be an ingredient for writing, Seo Kwang prioritized driving other birds out of his mind. The game wasn't about birds.

"T, T… trumpet!"

He looked at Juho as if everything was in his hands then. Without hesitation, Juho said the first word that came to mind, "Tarzan!"

It had been decided. The three keywords for the members to write about were tree pipit, trumpet, and Tarzan. While Bom laughed awkwardly, Seo Kwang murmured with disappointment, "Tarzan? Why Tarzan of all things? Should I just write about Tarzan playing the trumpet while he hangs out with his buddy tree pipit? What are you, E.R. Burroughs?"

E.R. Burroughs was the author of Tarzan. With a big smile, Juho answered the dejected Seo Kwang, "I'm not quite at the level to be on par with E.R. Burroughs."

Tarzan playing the trumpet, hanging out with his buddy tree pipit. It wasn't half bad.

"That story is actually not half bad."

"Yeah? It's not?"

At Mr. Moon's mark, the members picked up their pens. Brainstorming was essential. Everyone pictured the story they were going to portray.

While others were busy mapping out their story, Juho was the only person who had began writing. 'Tarzan, trumpet and tree pipit.' Juho started with the word that came out of his mouth.

'Let's say there was man who introduced himself as Tarzan. He was so moved by the novel 'Tarzan,' written by Edgar Rice Burroughs, that he decided to be Tarzan himself.'

Juho observed the character from a distance. That was so that he could strike a balance between emotional and rational perspectives.

'The man thought to himself, 'Tarzan's friends are animals.''

'Let's think of some animals,' Juho thought.

'The man went outside. The only animal he saw was a tree pipit. A tree pipit here, a tree pipit there. He wondered about the streets in search of gorillas, snakes, and elephants. There were only people. People after people. The man came to a realization. That was not the jungle. That place was different from a jungle, where all sorts of creatures came together and mingled. Where the man lived, there were only people.

'The exhausted man found a trumpet in a pile of trash. As soon as he blew on it, it made a sound. He couldn't communicate with the instrument, but it had been a beautiful sound. He blew the trumpet once again, and the trumpet answered immediately.'

When Juho had written up to that point, he felt a piercing gaze from someone. He peeked around and found out that Mr. Moon was looking in his direction. He remembered what Mr. Moon had emphasized in his comment about his writing, the ending.

Others were still in the beginning stages of their stories. They were much calmer in comparison to the previous time, so Juho put down his pen for a moment. He took some time to think about how he was going to wrap up the story.

'The ending, the ending, the ending.'

Juho couldn't think of anything and sighed internally. It was a feeling all too familiar to him.

Juho acknowledged to himself that he was being too conscious of the readers. It felt like when he wrote his second book, and he didn't have to try to remember the result.

In the end, Juho was the last person to submit his paper.

"Haha!"

He wrapped up the story by a starving Tarzan choking to death while eating boiled carrots.

'Sorry, Mr. Moon.'

The End

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26 Chapter 26 - A Harsh, Bitingly Cold Winter 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

"Man, I'm tired," Juho said as he stretched out his arms towards the ceiling.

Since the contest had been announced, he had started writing in various styles: portraying characters' faces from their respective point of views, describing an object's texture, setting a rock as the narrator of the story, describing the feelings of grass, and more. In the case of the story about the grass, the plot was mostly made of motion sickness. Some days, Juho experimented with a story entirely made of short-tempered characters. Stories like that were like time bombs, ready to blow at any minute. Since there wasn't enough time for transcribing anymore, the transcription assignment had become an optional homework. There was no punishment for not doing it. Yet, every member in the Literature Club chose to transcribe at home to improve their writing skills.

That day, the literature club was busy writing as always. Everyone seemed spaced out from exhaustion. Juho massaged his shoulder and groaned involuntarily. As he moved onto the other shoulder, Sun Hwa let out in a depressed tone, "I'm afraid of reading what I wrote. I've been finding out more and more how much my writing actually sucks."

"It's embarrassing to read your own writing," Bom agreed with her.

A piece of writing that came into existence no more than a few minutes prior came back to haunt the writer as an unbearably embarrassing past. One often felt the urge to lock it away for eternity, and Sun Hwa wanted to write everything all over again.

"We have to push through. If we start revising now, we won't be able to finish it in time even if we have three years," Seo Kwang said weakly.

"If you're seeing how your writing could have been improved, then it also means you're learning how to write better in the future. Don't be so ashamed," Juho encouraged the two people who were writhing in shame.

Regardless, there was little effect. Sun Hwa looked at her draft, feeling dejected.

"Yeah, you're right. But it doesn't take away from the embarrassment," she said as she slammed her draft onto the desk.

"Man, I wanted my story to be prettier. My mind gets so hectic whenever I start writing."

Juho smiled faintly at her rant. It was a good mindset to have. A writer had to be aware of his own greediness more than anything else. It didn't mean that they shouldn't be possessive either. When writing, one had to focus on writing alone. The moment their greed took over, the writing would naturally lean toward pleasing the reader. It would dress itself in bright colors. It would become clouded by obscure jargon while the exploration within the story turned excessive. Wearing too much makeup would damage the skin. It was the same for writing. It got damaged by disingenuity. That was how a piece of writing became pretentious.

Rustle.

Bom reached into her bag and took something out. It was chocolate. The Literature Club was flexible about bringing snacks. For that reason, the members often snacked on sweets after they finished writing. Wanting to share, Bom handed out her chocolate. Each single piece of it was wrapped, so it was easy to eat. After thanking Bom, Juho popped the chocolate into his mouth. There was an explosion of sweetness. It felt rejuvenating, and everyone sat up in their seats.

"Bom brings the best snacks."

"I feel much better."

"Pretty good."

Sun Hwa, Seo Kwang, and Baron said in order, and Bom smiled brightly. Juho opened the window of the science room to let out the sweet smell of chocolate. A pleasant breeze rushed into the room, and he stood in front of the window for a moment for some fresh air. That moment, Juho turned around at the rustling sound. Bom was picking up the wrappers spread across the desk, so he helped her.

"It's OK, I'll just finish it," she said.

Juho answered by folding one of the wrappers into the shape of a notepad.

"It'll be quicker if we do it together."

Juho and Bom picked up the chocolate wrappers from the floor. When Juho looked up, he found Seo Kwang and Sun Hwa with wrappers in their hands. Baron was doing the same. Since there weren't that many, all the wrappers were picked up in no time.

"Rock, paper, scissor," somebody suggested as a way to decide on a person to take out the trash.

Although Bom had volunteered, the game had already started. Juho joined in. In the end, Bom took part in it as well. 'Rock, paper, scissor.'

"Ah!"

"Yes!"

Seo Kwang lost, and Sun Hwa gladly saw him out. He walked out into the hallway mumbling, and Juho also waved his hand at him. When Seo Kwang came back, he was accompanied by Mr. Moon. After getting a piece of chocolate from Juho, Mr. Moon said as he was chewing on the chocolate, "Now, I'll teach you how to polish your writing. You finally get to revise all the embarrassing things you've been writing so far. Doesn't that make you happy?"

Sun Hwa cheered. It was at least ten times more effective than Juho's encouragement. Seo Kwang and Bom also welcomed Mr. Moon. While watching the members' response, Mr. Moon questioned Juho, who was sitting quietly in his seat, "Aren't you happy?"

"I am," he answered quickly.

"Now, shall we begin?"

Without hesitation, Mr. Moon began to write out an example on the chalkboard. As usual, it was an abrupt start.

"Juho Woo, read it."

At Mr. Moon's words, Juho read the sentence out loud, "I'm a person who eats baguettes frequently, even when I came to Korea on a trip, I had more baguettes than kimchi stew, so I think I might as well have gone to France instead."

It was a strange and awkward sentence.

"Look at this sentence. It's hard to tell what it's trying to say because it's lengthy and awkward, right?"

"I'm running out of breath."

"It kind of feels awkward."

"I can feel his stream of consciousness."

Juho looked at the word baguette.

"Something isn't quite adding up here. When a beginner tries to write a longer sentence, this is the result they end up with. That's why longer sentences are harder to work with. Even authors go through several polishing processes when they're writing a lengthy sentence. As for you guys, get used to writing shorter sentences."

Mr. Moon wrote another sentence on the side of the chalkboard.

"I eat baguettes frequently. Even when I visited Korea, I had more baguettes than I had kimchi stew. If I had known better, I would have gone to France. I'm sure it would have been a much better trip."

The sentence was still filled with baguettes, but it was definitely more organized. Even dividing up the sentence into segments made a big difference. There was room to breathe, and Juho thought about what might come next, 'He stacks a lot of bad memories on his visit to Korea. In the end, he leaves for his dream destination, France. Will he be able to build better memories? Only good memories? That's no fun. Let's make it worse.'

At that moment, Juho heard Mr. Moon's voice, "I'll give you another example. The subject is baguette."

Juho had an idea of what Mr. Moon had had for lunch. Unlike Juho, who was resting his chin on his hand, everyone else listened intently. Sun Hwa was especially focused. Seeing him creating an organized, easy to read sentence out of a jumbled up mess made her remember that Mr. Moon was really a teacher after all. When he taught a class, it was obvious that Mr. Moon had no desire to teach. He never went out of his way to teach. He only did the bare minimum. His class came to an end after he covered what was going to be on the test. Even when it came to deciding what was going to be in the test, Mr. Moon would always refer to an older teacher who was more experienced. His attitude was completely different. Anybody could have complained if they saw such a drastic difference in Mr. Moon's attitude when teaching.

'Hey, this is discriminatory.'

Then, he would answer without a care in the world, "I hate school. I hate working. I'm proud that I even come out."

Since it wasn't like Mr. Moon rejected students with questions or skipped teaching his class, no one would be able to punish him, and he would proudly walk about school.

"Try revising your papers like I taught you. Whatever you don't finish will be your homework."

"Yes, Mr. Moon."

The club members spent their entire weekend facing their embarrassing past, cutting and taking out words and phrases. Juho, too, was keeping himself busy. He was so occupied that he didn't even hear the door opening. A hand suddenly appeared next to him, and Juho traced his eyes up along the hand. It was his mother.

"Have some fruit."

"OK, thanks."

His mother said as she put down a plate of apple slices. She looked at her son with a delighted heart. Juho hadn't squandered the money or become conceited about his own talent. For that, his mother was proud of her son. She left the room to let her son focus, and Juho put a piece of apple into his mouth and concentrated all the more. He split up certain parts, elaborated in certain places and enhanced the weaker areas in his writing. He toned down the parts that were too dense. Juho was revising his paper so that it was sharp and solid. As he busily moved his pen, he suddenly stopped.

"Should it be 'he chokes on a piece of boiled carrot?'"

There wasn't much that could be done with such a bizarre ending. Besides, Juho kind of liked it. It resembled the recklessness of youth. It was rash, but brave at the same time. It was an ending that was both bold and unfaltering, which wasn't common in recent books.

'I'll leave it alone.'

Juho examined the next page. At that moment, his phone vibrated on his bed. He had tossed it onto the bed on his way in. The call was from Nam Kyung, and Juho answered.

"Hello."

"Hey, Juho. Are you busy?"

"I can talk. What's up?"

Nam Kyung called him from time to time to check in with him or give him an update on book sales or any recent developments. It wasn't out of place for him to be calling. Yet, Juho was getting an unusual vibe from Nam Kyung's voice. It sounded like he was excited.

"Did something happen?" Juho asked, to find out what was happening.

"You know the author, Dong Gil Uhm, right?"

Of course he knew. Juho had bought one of his books from the bookstore not too long ago. It had been a good read.

"Of course I know him."

"So, he contacted me."

"He contacted you?"

"He wants to meet you."

"... excuse me?"

"He says he's dying to know what you look like. What do you say, should I set up a meeting?"

There was a brief silence.

'Dong Gil Uhm wants to meet me just because he wants to know what I look like?'

Even in midst of confusion, he calmly analyzed the situation. That had never happened before. He had never met Dong Gil Uhm, so there was no reason for him to reach out to Juho.

One thing that had been different from the past was that Juho had remained anonymous this time. Dong Gil Uhm was saying that he wanted to know what Juho looked like. In the past, it would have been as easy as searching the internet if he had wanted to find that out. This time, however, it was different. There was no way to know what Yun Woo looked like. If Dong Gil Uhm was curious about Juho's face, then the only way was to meet him in person. 'How interesting!'

Whenever things played out differently from the past, Juho felt relieved at heart. It meant that he was not repeating the mistakes of the past. Taking a deep breath, he answered Nam Kyung. Juho had enjoyed reading Dong Gil Uhm's book as an adult. Even when he couldn't write a single decent sentence, his appreciation for the author had remained unchanged.

'It can't hurt to meet him,' Juho thought.

"Sure. I'm free throughout the weekend."

'Sooner the better. Will the actual meeting happen sometime next week?' he thought.

"Come now!"Nam Kyung said over the phone as if he were reading Juho's thoughts.

The End

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27 Chapter 27 - A Harsh, Bitingly Cold Winter 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

"It was around here somewhere."

Juho was lost. He had to leave in a hurry because of a last-minute plan. Though he managed to get to the vicinity of the publishing district, the sheer number of book cafes around made it difficult to find the meeting place, so he took out his phone to ask Nam Kyung for directions.

He followed the directions on the phone and went into an alley.

"Hey, I'm here!"

Nam Kyung was waving his hand in front of a building. It was a cafe where the front was made entirely of glass. The blue sign met Juho's eyes.

"I didn't think you'd ask me to come out so soon."

"Mr. Uhm is a man of action."

'Right.' Juho was able to tell from how he had asked for a meeting.

He and Nam Kyung went into the cafe. The books inside caught his eyes. That book cafe was putting more emphasis on the book aspect than others. It had to be because it was within the publishing district.

Looking around, Juho found a man who looked to be in his thirties. He was sitting with a straight posture, writing. He was focused. The blank expression on his face gave off a slightly rigid impression.

'That must be him, Dong Gil Uhm.'

As expected, Nam Kyung walked toward the man.

"Mr. Uhm, this is Yun Woo."

At Nam Kyung's voice, the man stopped his hand and slowly raised his eyes to Juho's face. Then, he stared intently for a little while and said, "How you doin', sir."

Although Juho was much younger, Dong Gil Uhm greeted him with respect. Juho said hello and told him not to worry about having to be polite. Dong Gil accepted without saying much else. He really was a man of action.

"I'm Juho Woo. I'd prefer Juho rather than Yun Woo."

"Sure."

Nam Kyung suggested ordering something to drink, and all three decided on hot americanos.

"They sell cakes by the slice. Would you like one?"

"I'll eat gratefully."

With a satisfied smile, Nam Kyung ordered two slices of cake. Dong Gil Uhm had respectfully declined Nam Kyung's offer because he was not into sweets. Soon, the cakes and americanos came out. Juho ate his cake while Nam Kyung caught up with Dong Gil. Everything was delicious.

Once they finished, Dong Gil turned his eyes to Juho. Juho took that as a cue and started a conversation.

"I've heard you were curious about my looks."

Dong Gil admitted, "Yes. I was surprised at how young you were. Now that I see you in person, you do look your age. I enjoyed your work quite a bit."

Juho thanked him with a smile. It felt pretty good to be complimented by a famous author who had written several best-selling books. He would probably continue to write more in the future.

"I've read quite a bit of your books myself."

"Is that right? I figure they might've been a little serious for a student."

That was true. Dong Gil's books were definitely more serious, perhaps to a fault. However, Juho preferred such books.

"I'm also a fan of Hemingway."

Dong Gil's rigid face loosened up a bit.

"Hemingway is a great author. He's in my list of things that I clearly like. I have it in my notepad."

Juho blinked for a second. 'Clearly what?'

"What's in that list?"

"It's a list of things that I clearly like."

It was just as he said. Juho thought of his first encounter with Dong Gil when he walked into the cafe and asked, "So, were you working on that list before I got here?"

"That was a journal."

He wrote quite a bit. It explained why he was an author.

"Isn't it a little early for journaling?"

"It's my journal, so I decide when I write it."

He had a point. Among authors, there were some who were in the habit of journaling. In the case of Dong Gil, his rigid expression and journaling made for an interesting concoction. It suited him well. 'A man in his thirties who journals, how unique!'

'Besides, what's with that list?' Juho had never heard of such a list. 'Why is he writing a list like that?'

"What makes you write a list like that?"

"I wanted to know what I clearly like."

"Do you like things to be clear-cut?"

"Whether I like or dislike something is besides the point here. I'm just trying to get to know myself better."

Juho was reminded of the old saying 'know thyself.'

"Are you into Socrates?"

"I don't dislike him."

It seemed like Dong Gil was much more unusual than Juho had imagined.

During a brief pause in their conversation, Juho took the opportunity to take another bite of his cake, and Dong Gil brought his cup to his mouth.

"Do you remember your very first Hemingway experience?" Dong Gil asked.

Juho took some time to think until the cake in his mouth had slid past the back of his tongue. It didn't take much to remember his first experience with Hemingway's unique style, and he remembered being amazed by it.

"It was a short-story called "The Killers.""

"That one's particularly hard-boiled."

"I know. That's why I remember it so distinctly. I had never come across a book with such little emotional description."

The story was part of a compilation. Two contract killers attempted to murder a person. It was an irrational situation. There were three people who found out about it. One was indifferent toward it because it had nothing to do with him. Another accepted it as normal. Finally, the last person resisted. The person who chose to resist was named Nick. Nick found the person who the killers were after and explained the situation to the targeted man. However, the man refused to move from his place. He said, 'I'm exhausted.' Nick was shocked by that turn of events, and decided to leave town.

When Juho read this simple story, he thought about the perspective of each character. He joined in with Nick in his resistance. He waited for the killers alongside the man who had let go of everything. Juho tried taking a step back like the first person and also tried to kill a person while embracing such irrational culture. Everything was possible. That was Hemingway. He was impressive. Dong Gil must have had a similar experience.

"What was your first Hemingway book?" Juho asked him.

"The Snows of Kilimanjaro. Hemingway wrote the book after his trip to Africa." Dong Gil's eyes sparkled, and he continued, "When I learned that, it felt like I had figured out the secret behind the liveliness of that book for the first time."

"In the novel, he reflected quite a bit on his own experiences."

Dong Gil nodded.

"That's right. A crush, for example."

"A farewell to arms."

"One time, he went to Spain to witness the Spanish Civil War."

"For Whom the Bell Tolls."

All of his books were titled after his real life experiences. Dong Gil seemed satisfied by Juho's answer. He must have been happy that they spoke the same language. Perhaps, he was not such a complicated person after all.

Dong Gil continued with a satisfied look on his face, "Even the conciseness in his writing comes from his experience as a journalist. He's a person who uses his own life experiences as a basis for his books."

Dong Gil described his impression of Hemingway as "a person who wastes nothing." He was the same way. Hemingway felt like a person who would come up with a strange list to write in his spare time.

"Speaking of which, weren't you a journalist in the past, Mr. Uhm?"

Having been listening to the conversation, Nam Kyung chimed in. Juho had never heard that Dong Gil used to be a journalist. It would have been a well known fact if he had been. Juho thought that his rigidity somehow suited him for the job. A journalist or a reporter could give off a negative impression currently, but the job had always been about delivering the truth.

"It's an embarrassing past. How did you know?"

"I met with Mr. Ahn once for a manuscript request."

"That buddy of mine is always going around saying silly things. He has such a mushy style of writing. It's like he modeled it after his own personality. I don't feel good whenever I read his things."

"Is that right? I enjoyed it quite a bit."

His criticism had an edge to it. As if he had been used to Dong Gil's personality, Nam Kyung responded in the blink of an eye. Dong Gil seemed much too genuine in his disgust to think that he was joking.

"What's Mr. Ahn like?"

"He wears sweatpants all year round. He has an underdeveloped sense of fashion."

It didn't seem like Dong Gil had anything nice to say about his friend. Juho decided to stop asking any more questions. On the other hand, Nam Kyung was laughing as if he were amused by the joke.

Juho changed the subject, "I didn't know you used to be a journalist."

"I don't tell anyone on my own."

He did say he was embarrassed about it.

While Juho hesitate to speak, he thought, 'What makes one embarrassed of having been a journalist?'

Dong Gil continued as if it weren't a big deal, "I started working as a journalist, but then I quit the next day."

Then, Juho asked without hesitating, "How come?"

It made sense for it not to be a widely-known fact. Quitting the next day would mean that he had left before he even got his employee ID.

"Well, I have my reasons, but in the end, I saw myself quitting in the future. I felt like I was suffocating because it was very boring. I thought I might as well make better use of my time. I became a journalist because there is no money in writing books nowadays, but that was a mistake. I didn't prioritize myself in my decision."

Then he continued confidently, "No matter how time changed, I learned that I had the ability to survive. I was young too. I did a disgraceful thing by being afraid for no reason, bringing myself down. This doesn't mean that I support this biased society."

Despite what he said, Juho wasn't getting an impression that he was arrogant. He described himself as if he were stating the obvious. For a best-selling author, his self-evaluation was not excessive in any way. He tried hard to understand himself objectively. That was it. He was not like Hemingway.

"You're not like Hemingway," Juho thought out loud.

Dong Gil stopped talking for a moment. After a brief silence, he asked, "What does that mean?"

"He had a habit of exaggerating things to cover up his weak, timid personality."

In that case, Dong Gil was definitely nothing like Hemingway. Hemingway was legendary for his binge drinking and pretentious attitude.

Dong Gil smirked almost like a sigh. For a brief moment, his face seemed like that of a child who had lost his innocence.

"Yes, that's right," he murmured. "I discovered that when I was about your age. I had never been so disappointed, even when I read "Across the River and into the Trees."

Among Hemingway's books, "Across the River and into the Trees" was one that was not well-received by critics and fans.

"When I heard somebody describe him as a hairy sissy obsessed with masculinity, I was genuinely hurt. Maybe even more than Hemingway himself."

Hemingway's mother had always wanted a daughter. For that reason, she had dressed her son in girly clothes. There was even a story of her introducing her son to the neighbors as 'Ernestine.' As a means of rebelling against her, he would often go out hunting and fishing. He habitually demonstrated his masculinity. That was the beginning of his pretentious character.

His concise writing style was revolutionary at the time. Though they seemed easy read on the surface, every book was thoroughly calculated. It was beautiful. That was the reason why Dong Gil had assumed that Hemingway had a personality like that of his writing style.

"After countless people testified that he was a big talker, I didn't know what to think. I couldn't help but feel betrayed. My sensitivity would not leave me alone. I had wanted to be like him, but I didn't want to be like him anymore."

In the past, Dong Gil had spent a lot of time wondering about in life and figuring out his identity.

At that moment, he took a notepad out of his chest pocket.

"That's why I started making this list, the list of things that I clearly like."

It all made sense. His desire to judge himself objectively was coming from his past disappointment. 'Who would have known that there was such a story behind that strange list of his?'

Once a delusion shattered into pieces, another truth revealed itself. The truth was painful. It was difficult to accept. Yet, in the end, he ended up pursuing this same truth, and that was because he still looked up to Hemingway.

"What was the first thing you wrote on the list?" Juho asked.

"Hemingway," Dong Gil answered.

Juho spoke out a phrase that came to mind, "A man can be destroyed, but not defeated."

"Old Man and the Sea," Dong Gil quietly named Hemingway's very last masterpiece.

It was a phrase said by the protagonist of the book. To protect his once-in-a-lifetime catch, an old man named Santiago was fighting off sharks with his life. Then he said, 'A man can be destroyed, but not defeated.'

"He was a man who would rather be destroyed than defeated."

The sun shone brightly onto the three syllables written on Dong Gil's notepad.

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28 Chapter 28 - A Harsh, Bitingly Cold Winter 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

"Now, let's talk about you," Dong Gil said as Juho took a sip of his lukewarm coffee. It was sudden, but it wasn't a surprise. That meeting had been set up for Dong Gil and Juho from the start.

Juho learned how unique of a person Dong Gil was. Now, it was his turn.

"Didn't you want to know what I looked like?" Juho asked light-heartedly.

"I did, but that was until I met you. I wanted to know what makes you look like a genius."

"I'm not sure if I am one. Speaking of which, you wrote the novel called 'The Genius,' right?"

"I did. It was about a genius who was born in a time that wasn't quite ready to welcome him. He eventually falls into ruin."

"He starved to death in the end."

'The Genius' was written entirely in the first-person perspective. The protagonist was a pianist who came from a poor family. He was also a genius. He was recognized for his skills and received a special scholarship to a music school. Unfortunately, without personal connections or wealth, there was no chance for him to prove himself at that school.

In the end, the protagonist left the school and made a living performing on the streets. Sadly, he failed to draw attention and met with a tragic demise.

In his final performance, he resented his gift of music as his life slowly faded away.

"You've read it?"

"I have."

At Juho's short answer, Dong Gil showed him the back of his notepad. There, it was written: The list of things I clearly dislike.

'What do you know?!' If there was a list of things he clearly liked, Juho had wondered if there was also an opposite version of it. Unlike the positive version that started at the front of the notepad, that list started at the back.

"I wrote 'genius' on top."

It wasn't really necessary for him to show that. As a proof, Dong Gil put his notepad in front of Juho's face. The word 'genius' was definitely on it. Underneath was 'hairs of a beast.'

"I'm not a genius, so obviously, it makes me sick whenever I'm around one of those arrogant bastards. They think they're so talented. They make me want to shut 'em up. That's why I starved the protagonist to death," Dong Gil said bitterly as he imagined the protagonist of 'The Genius' walking down the path of destruction.

To him, there was nothing positive about the word "genius." His physiological response was to deny them. As a writer, he couldn't help but to express such feelings in his writing.

"Whether somebody's a genius or a criminal, everyone's equal before starvation."

"That's true. They're human at the end of the day."

"Seeing these geniuses dying so tragically, it makes me wonder if God is as twisted as I am," he said confidently with a blank expression and continued looking at Juho. "What do you think? If somebody like me were a God, a genius like you wouldn't possibly be able to live happily ever after."

His tone was dry, and Juho thought, 'He might be right. If God really hates geniuses, then it makes sense that my life ended the way it did.'

Juho had lived such a life because he had been hated by God. He had become drunk with his own talent and stopped trying. He had been trapped within his own world and glorified himself as the king. If God was anything like Dong Gil, Juho would have certainly infuriated him.

Yet, Juho came back. He had been given a second chance and he was still living.

In that case, "I quit being a genius."

There's no other way than to quit.

At Juho's answer, Dong Gil's jaw dropped ever so slightly. It had been a completely unexpected answer, and soon, he started smirking.

"You're a strange one."

"Am I?"

"Very."

As he muttered, Dong Gil wrote something in his notepad.

'You're one to talk,' thought Juho. 'Genius. He had created a character and then called him a genius. Had that been appropriate?'

"I didn't think the protagonist was a genius."

"What?"

Juho spoke his mind. He had been wanting to say that since a moment ago.

"The talent of a genius is bound to charm people, no matter the time and place. In any situation, that talent shines even if the genius is approaching death. The talent is merciless even to the one who possesses it. If the protagonist really were a genius, others around him wouldn't have let him starve to death."

There was no boundary in the fairness of talent. It was equally cruel to everyone. Juho had talent, and whoever possessed a talent was often referred to as a genius. People called Juho genius, and he had thought it would last forever.

Yet, he had eventually experienced failure, and there had no longer been anyone calling him a genius.

Though praised as a gifted author at one point, Juho had left the literature field. On the other hand, Dong Gil, who denied his talent, continued writing. At the rock bottom of his life, Juho read Dong Gil's books and laughed.

'His success does not come from his talent,' thought Juho.

Then, his failure was probably not going to have anything to do with his talent either.

Juho's failure hadn't been for lack of talent. The protagonist in the book was the same.

"The protagonist is not a genius. He envied talent and was ashamed of putting in the effort. That's why you starved him to death, right?"

He was merely envious of talent. He didn't put in the effort. He had never fought to obtain it. He simply sank deeper into the depths. There was no resistance.

He didn't bother trying to live. He didn't want to eat. No wonder he had starved to death.

After listening quietly, Dong Gil's mouth opened, and he said, "You seem very convinced. There's always a handful of people who find out, no matter how well I hide it. There's no reward in having secrets because of those people."

Dong Gil was aware of how magnificent a talent could be. It was like a gem that shone on its own without sunlight. On its own, it had the ability to charm people.

He had come to learn that he didn't have such a thing. A youngster who picked up a pen much later than Dong Gil had written something that exceeded his expectations. He remembered his first experience with Juho's writing. His heart had pounded aggressively.

'But I started first. I wrote so much more.'

Talent had been cruel to Dong Gil. To him, there was nothing more unfair.

Figure of speech was not one of Dong Gil's strengths. He couldn't write anything fancy or magnificent and he wrestled with his weaknesses. Then, he discovered Hemingway and received help from his writing.

'Let's keep it simple, cutting out whatever's unnecessary. I'll write something simple and to-the-point, just like my savior, Hemingway.'

"Everybody wants to be a genius, myself included at one point."

As a young man, Dong Gil had wanted to be a genius. That had been why he had starved the pianist to death. Although it had been a shameful past, he hadn't wanted to neglect it. For that reason, he had hid it deep within his writing. He had pretended to be clueless to the questioning critics.

Yet, of all occasions, this youngster, who had just quit being a genius, had found out about his secret. Dong Gil remembered the face of a friend who had discovered his secret immediately, just like Juho did. It was aggravating, but Dong Gil found himself smiling for some reason.

"Give me your number, now," Dong Gil said forcefully as he took out his cell phone out of his chest pocket.

*

"Hello..." Dong Gil heard a cracked voice over the phone. That pathetic fellow must have been sleeping until that time. The sun was setting. It was obvious that he had been binge watching dramas that he hadn't been able to watch while he had been writing.

Dong Gil said, "Come out."

"Come out where? I just woke up, man. I'm still half asleep. I'm going back to bed."

"I just met Yun Woo."

Thump. Thud. It sounded like something fell on the floor. Dong Gil could picture the man's messy room. From A to Z, there was nothing to like about that guy. Then, the friend on the phone answered with an excited voice, "Should I go to that restaurant?"

"Yep."

Dong Gil got in his car and headed toward the restaurant he went to frequently with his friend. It was a mediocre place, both in taste and price, but they went regularly because of its convenient location.

Seo Joong Ahn hated going out with a passion, especially somewhere far. Dong Gil lived in the same neighborhood, and it was also convenient for him to stay close to home. For that reason, they made themselves regulars at that restaurant.

After parking his car nearby, Doing Gil went into the restaurant. There was a man wearing a black sweatshirt and pants. His untidy, bed-headed appearance made it obvious that he had just gotten out of bed. Dong Gil cringed at the sight. Upon seeing Dong Gil, the man raised his hand up and waved.

"I'm here."

"Put your hand down. I can see you."

After taking their seats, the two ordered a couple bowls of noodle soup.

"Man, you finally met him. I applaud your quick-to-act attitude. So how was it? Woman? Man? Do you have a picture?"

He was making a big fuss. On purpose, Dong Gil parted his lips as slowly as possible.

"Yun Woo is a boy. I don't have a picture of him."

"Why not?"

"Because… whether I take one or not is up to me."

The food had made its way onto their table. As he slurped on the noodles, Seo Joong asked, "So, did you rip the young genius a new one?"

"Nope. He ripped ME a new one."

"What? The infamous Dong Gil Uhm let a boy rip him a new one?"

"Who are you calling infamous?"

At the unamusing title given by his friend, Dong Gil expressed annoyance. Seo Joong waved his hand at his friend, a gesture meant to express that there were more important things.

"Hurry up! Tell me more! I'm dying to know."

Seo Joong looked like he'd throw a temper tantrum, like a child if he didn't get what he asked for. To prevent it from happening, Dong Gil calmly told his friend of his encounter with Juho.

Juho Woo. He was a type who would calmly munch on his cake amid bolts out of the blue.

"He quit what? A seventeen-year old said that?"

"Yes, he did. I ended up writing it on my notepad without even thinking."

Dong Gil opened the front part of his notepad. There were three syllables written there: Juho Woo.

With his eyes on that not-so-funny list, Seo Joong said with a serious face, "So, he did have what it takes to write something like that, after all."

Dong Gil nodded. Before Juho's book had even come out, the furor that had already spread across the publishing industry was: 'There's an author making his debut at the age of sixteen.'

Frankly, Dong Gil had paid no attention. He clearly remembered picking up Juho's book with a cynical smile.

However, the reality was not what he had thought. Until he read the book himself, Dong Gil hadn't realized that he had been underestimating that author because of his age.

'The Trace of a Bird' was about a boy who was afraid of birds. He only left his house at night and wondered the streets. That was when all of the birds were asleep.

It was pure. It had literary value. Yun Woo knew how to control his emotions.

It was hard to believe that a sixteen-year old had written a book like that.

"I hadn't cried like that from reading in years."

There wasn't necessarily a sad part in the book. Nobody died or got into an accident. The boy just faced the rising sun at the end.

It was such a simple scene. Yet, Dong Gil had been moved to tears.

"We must have looked ridiculous. Two older men, crying their eyes out, each with a book in their hands," Seo Joong said as he snickered.

"Why did it have to be at my place?"

"What was I supposed to do? My mom wanted me to bring you some food. I wanted to eat while I was at it too."

Back then, Seo Joong had gone over with a book in one hand and a bundle of food on the other. He had been wearing blue at the time.

"I guess there was nothing to worry about all along."

"What do you mean?" Seo Joong asked with a piece of kimchi in his mouth.

"If he's that much of a character, I'm thinking we can expect him to write another book. Think about it. Everyone's going crazy around him. Wouldn't you be overwhelmed? I would've hid on an island somewhere."

"Weakling."

Though Dong Gil answered bluntly, he had thought the same. At one point, he too had thought that he might never see another book from Yun Woo. That author had definitely had a bad start. He had become way too successful, way too young. A leaf was most vulnerable when it was freshly sprouted. Dong Gil had believed that until he met Juho in person.

"It's possible."

"We should be on our toes."

Seo Joong's eyes moved calmly. It was extremely rare for him to be nervous. However, Dong Gil couldn't help but agree.

"We should."

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29 Chapter 29 - With All His Heart 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

After a quick breakfast, Juho changed into his uniform and left for school. When he arrived to class, he either read a book or a text in the English textbook. Occasionally, he would stare out of the window or go up to the second years' floor to chat with Baron.

That day was no different. Juho looked at the text in his English textbook. It was about dreams. The textbook was referring to none other than future careers. It wasn't about dreaming in one's sleep or dreaming of something in one's life.

He thought of a conversation he had with Seo Kwang not too long before.

"What would it be like to be a novelist?" Seo Kwang asked. He sounded excited for some reason.

Juho gave him a brief stare and asked, "Is that what you want to do?"

"I just happened to find myself enjoying being part of the Literature Club, a lot more than I had expected."

It was true. He did seem much happier as of late. 'A novelist, huh!?' It suited him.

"If that's what your heart desires, then so be it. I support you."

"I haven't really decided yet."

Although he answered vaguely, Seo Kwang's eyes were sparkling.

"What is it?"

Though it was a day just like any other, Juho had been thinking that something had been different. Seo Kwang had been acting strange as of late.

He had felt Seo Kwang staring daggers at him for some time. He had blatantly turned around with the backrest in between his legs. As a person who sat directly behind him, Juho was feeling rather uncomfortable.

"What?"

He scratched his cheek. It almost felt like it was stinging.

"Why are you looking at me like that? You think I'm cute?"

In spite of Juho's light-hearted joke, Seo Kwang's face remained completely still. Usually, he would have, at the very least, made a complete fool out of Juho.

"This world really is kind of unfair."

With that mysterious remark, Seo Kwang turned back to his desk.

Juho muttered as he stared into the back of Seo Kwang's head, "...Was it really about my looks?" He briefly looked at his reflection on the window and thought, 'It's not half bad.'

When recess started, Seo Kwang asked a question out of nowhere, "Where did you say you lived?"

Confused, Juho tilted his head. It really was a random question. After telling Seo Kwang the location, he asked, "Why do you ask?"

"Just because. You don't live that far from me."

"It's all in the same neighborhood. My side tends to be hillier though."

This neighborhood was on a mountain, so there were a lot of hills even in the residential areas. There was also a mountain right behind the school. He was met with the cries of turtledoves on his way to school in the morning, and with hikers on his way back. It was like a countryside neighborhood within Seoul.

"Can I come over?"

There was no reason Seo Kwang couldn't.

"Sure. My parents are out for work. You want to come today?"

"No. Later."

Juho nodded light-heartedly, but there was something about Seo Kwang's attitude that bothered him. 'Maybe he got himself into some sort of trouble?'

The next morning, he had to open his eyes at the sound of the doorbell.

'Ding, dong.'

It rang once again as he lingered in his blanket. It was rushing him to get out of bed. Soon, he realized that he was the only person around.

Every weekend, Juho's parents would make a trip out to the countryside to look for a house. They had been telling him that they would put the city life behind them once their son grew up into an adult. Without any objection, he accepted his parents' future plans. After all, no one could live life for another person.

"Not answering the intercom, for example."

It wasn't until after a stretch and a yawn that Juho came out of his room and closed the door behind him. Half asleep, he looked at the intercom screen and saw a familiar face.

"Why is it that you're ringing my doorbell?" he asked over the intercom.

"Hey, buddy, I said I'd come over."

"It's kind of sudden actually."

"Didn't you get my text?"

'I was asleep,' thought Juho. Because he hadn't gone to bed until late, he had been sound asleep well into the morning.

"Don't people usually wait for a response?"

"I brought fried chicken."

Juho opened the door.

The smell of fried chicken filled the entire house as soon as Seo Kwang walked in. Since he got out of bed late, Juho was hungry, yet too lazy to cook something. That was perfect. Seo Kwang had read his mind. Juho sat Seo Kwang down as he looked around curiously. He went into the bathroom to wash his face, and then joined Seo Kwang for brunch.

The box contained half & half chicken - half fried, half marinaded. After pouring Coke into the cups, Juho and Seo Kwang each picked up a drumstick.

"Let's eat."

"This place knows their chicken."

It was just as Seo Kwang said. It was delicious. As the two ate, they spent time on small talk like what the best part of a chicken was or which place delivered the fastest.

Soon, there were nothing but bones inside the box. Then, Seo Kwang saw the bookshelves filled with books in the living room and said, "You have quite a few books too."

"My parents read a lot as well, just like I do."

"I read something interesting recently…"

After starting the topic, Seo Kwang made his way into the kitchen to wash his hands. Juho had an idea of what Seo Kwang was about to say.

'He's probably going to talk about a book,' he thought and listened to Seo Kwang as he cleaned the table.

"... There's this young psychologist who said that our inner selves occasionally reflect themselves onto the external things around us. Apparently, you can tell what a person is like on the inside by looking at his belongings or the traces he has left, kind of like Sherlock Holmes."

"Like insight?"

"Yeah. Survival experts figure out the animal that is around them by looking at footprints or excrement left behind. It's the same for humans."

"You can't really find human excrement nowadays."

"Really?! How do you say stuff like that after a meal?"

"I have a strong stomach."

Seo Kwang opened the windows to ventilate the house. When he opened a large window in the living room, a light breeze rushed into the house. With Juho standing behind him, he continued, "What I'm saying is that even if you stay one night at a hotel, you leave a trace of yourself. Apparently, you can figure anything out from personality, the life the person has lived, and his future plans."

"That's amazing! Is that how fortune telling works?"

"That, I don't know," answered Seo Kwang.

"The point is that a space contains a lot of information about the person who has been there. A lot more than we think." He asked, "Is that your parents' room?"

"Yep," Juho answered Seo Kwang as he stood still. Seo Kwang turned around from the direction he had pointed. Juho kept watching him from his place while Seo Kwang raised his hand to turn the door handle.

"Of course."

A breeze passed through when he opened the door, and Seo Kwang murmured as he walked into the room, feeling the breeze.

'I knew it. I knew it would look like this,' he thought.

The room was filled with writing. There were piles of papers and boxes surrounding the bed, the desk and the other furniture. Seo Kwang saw a corner of a page peeking through an opening in the box. All of the papers were filled with letters. They were all used up. Every space was filled with ink. It was almost overwhelming, even for a font fanatic like Seo Kwang. Occasionally, there were things in the English alphabet, Chinese characters, and characters in mysterious languages.

There were sentences made of signs he had never seen before.

"You must have wanted to see my room," Juho said from behind. He sounded calm and light-hearted. It was as if the room didn't belong to him.

With a faint smile, Seo Kwang opened his mouth and confessed, "I saw your paper."

Now it made sense as to why he had been acting so strange. He might have been someone who spent much more time reading than Juho, and Juho's eyes darkened.

"When?"

"When you came in late to the science room. I was the first one there that day. There were four notebooks on the desk."

There were written pages in each notebook.

He continued as he reminisced, "Sun Hwa's was fun to read. Bom's was sentimental. And yours…"

He couldn't forget what he had read that day. The ending was disastrous, and the story itself wasn't all that long. Yet, the moment he read the first sentence, it became all too apparent that something was different.

He had been reading books since he was a child. He had been reading from the time he learned how to read.

Yun Woo's appearance was an incredibly exciting development. He couldn't believe that an author his age was capable of producing such work. His writing was pure, brilliant, and controlled.

Seo Kwang had been filled with joy. He couldn't have been happier that he was sharing time with such an author. Thinking that he would be able to read Yun Woo's book until he died, Seo Kwang smiled even in his sleep.

But...

"Your writing was different from Yun Woo's. It was proficient and fluid. It was heavy and cruel."

There was depth in Juho's writing. There was no way to know how deep it could be—like a dark hole at the bottom of the ocean that could suck in any divers that came too close. As if he was met with a colossal existence, Seo Kwang's instincts were getting intimidated. On the other hand, he was impressed. He was moved. If Juho wrote with all his heart, Seo Kwang's experience would have been even more real.

"Your writing was different from Yun Woo's. Your skill was impressive. It was hard to imagine that it came from someone my age, but you were different."

"I'm sure it was."

Juho was no longer the same as Yun Woo, the author of 'Trace of a Bird.' When he came back to the past, he was able to remember what he had eaten the day before. He clearly remembered what it had felt like when he had been drowning in the river. It was the same for his writing style. It was a difficult task for an author to change his writing style. His writing was a direct translation of himself. It was as difficult as changing himself. Juho had gradually changed over the course of thirty years. As a result, his writing style had changed with him. Naturally, he would have forgotten his writing style from the time he wrote 'Trace of a Bird.' Naturally...

He had tried writing the day he returned to the past, and he had been able to write in both styles—the one from the time he wrote 'Trace of a Bird,' and the one from the time he had written his past failures. It was for that specific reason that he had been able to join the Literature Club without hesitation. Even Mr. Moon couldn't suspect him to be Yun Woo.

He remembered the day Seo Kwang was referring to. It was the day he came to science room with Mr. Moon after meeting with James.

'I knew it. I thought somebody had moved my notebook,' he thought.

Seo Kwang apologized for looking into Juho's notebook without permission. However, Juho wasn't all that angry about it.

"It's fine."

Seo Kwang was provoked by his unwavering voice, "Are you Yun Woo's twin? That level of skill in your age, you must be related. Show me a family photo. I want to see if there's a person who looks exactly like you. Who are you if you're not his twin? What? Are you saying that the world is wide and full of geniuses?"

He let out an exhausted sigh.

He looked around the room filled with stacks of paper. It would take him well over a year to write that much. He thought about what he had just said. 'Genius.' As expected, he realized that he had fallen short. 'Genius' alone would not be able to embrace Juho's talent in its entirety. Yun Woo had to be the same way.

"I enjoy being in the Literature Club. So naturally, I thought about becoming a novelist. But you know what, I changed my mind," he said light-heartedly. "I'm not trying to blame you. I don't want to be a writer when there are people like you and Yun Woo. I'm sure a mere bookworm like myself would fall away eventually."

He had no courage to make his room look like Juho's. Forfeiting was easy. He felt nothing. After all, it really had just been a passing thought.

The End

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30 Chapter 30 - With All His Heart 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

"You know, more than anything, I want to read your writing to my heart's content. Without any hindrance. I felt that more than the desire to be a novelist," Seo Kwang said with a smile.

Juho had nothing to say to him. It was his choice. It was his decision. It must have been a difficult one at that. A novel couldn't be written simply because it had been requested. Unless the author himself was writing, the novel would not move onward even if it were being forced. Life was the same way. For that reason, he quietly listened to Seo Kwang venting.

Once Seo Kwang stopped talking, there was silence. He hesitated for a moment, but soon started talking again in a slightly exaggerated voice.

"Can you do me a favor? Count it as payment for the fried chicken."

"What's the favor?" asked Juho. It was a gesture of acceptance.

"It's about the essay contest."

The essay contest. Juho had forgotten about it. It was a contest in which there was only one winner at the end.

"Write with all your heart. Not that whack ending you wrote. I want to read the story that you write."

Juho stared at him briefly and looked relieved. However, he wasn't happy to see such an expression, so he answered, "I will, if you write with all your heart."

Seo Kwang's eyes shook, and the moment turned with his light-hearted remark, "...you got it. It'll only cost you some fried chicken if you lose."

*

Seo Kwang left Juho's house. The sun was setting, and a faint veil of darkness covered the sky. Everything around him looked depressing. Maybe it had something to do with the sun setting. 'Where are the streetlights when you need one?' It wasn't dark enough for streetlights to come on as it was still bright enough for the people who were walking.

He thought about Juho's room as he walked back slowly. He had never been to a place like that. It was a sight that inspired awe. It wasn't the amount of paper that was in the room, it was the effort—the passion towards something. It was something Seo Kwang didn't have. Soon, he stopped in his tracks.

"It's OK," he whispered.

He didn't try like Juho did. He couldn't dare to. That was the extent of him trying. It was a good thing that he had given up on wanting to be a novelist.

"Well, I'll probably lose."

He didn't know what he had been thinking when he challenged Juho. It had been almost entertaining.

'There's a limit to a bluff,' he thought.

"It's fine. Even if I lose, it's only going to be fried chicken. Besides, I had some today."

'It's OK. It's just fried chicken.'

"Damn it!"

He clenched his fist out of the anger welling up within. Struggling to stand still, he stood in the middle of the street for a while.

*

"Tomorrow."

The time flowed even if one sat completely still. Juho was lying on his bed. If he went to sleep as he was, the next day would inevitably come, along with the essay contest. The contest was finally happening. It felt like it had been just the day before that Mr. Moon had made the bet with the club members. Since then, everyone in the club had been writing daily, excited for fried chicken. They collected words and revised, repeatedly.

Yet, all that effort wasn't necessarily equivalent to special training for the contest. As per usual, the members randomly chose a topic and wrote accordingly. That meant that the only thing they had to do was write, whether they were competing in a contest or not. If there was one thing better about the contest, it was that the contestants got to choose the topic they wanted to write about.

Juho got up and leaned against the chair. It was dark out, and his family was asleep. There were remnants of the writing he had been working on up to a moment ago.

He thought of Seo Kwang. When he had gone over, Juho hadn't seen him out. One reason for it had been that Seo Kwang had declined, but the main reason was the strange sensation in his hand by the time their conversation started coming to an end. It wasn't a foreign sensation. He would occasionally experience it before he started writing. When most people expressed their emotions in drawings, they often drew a heart near the chest. That was because whenever people were happy or sad, that was where it hurt. In the same way, Juho assumed the sensation in his hand to be coming from his heart.

"A feeling that I could almost touch."

Except, from time to time, the sensation would move toward the center of his hand. The sensation would spread across his palm and make it itchy and painful at the same time. To free himself from it, Juho instinctively reached for his pen. That wasn't according to his will. Just as he had no control over his heartbeat, he had no choice but to write. That day had been no different. After Seo Kwang left, Juho went back into his room and started writing. He grabbed whatever paper came into his grasp and began to write. It was impulsive, poorly written trash. He let out a faint sigh. Seo Kwang had asked him a favor, to write with all his heart, and that he wished to read what he wrote.

"Can I really do this?"

When he read Juho's paper, Seo Kwang thought Juho had intentionally ruined his ending, but that wasn't true. He had not intended on making up such an end. Unlike his personality, he was impulsive. He couldn't write anything if he wasn't in the mood. On the other hand, when he's at the peek of his inspiration, the only way to relieve the tension in his heart was to write. It was an annoying quality to have. If that tendency flared up during the contest, it would be impossible to write anything, let alone a story that his friend was dying to read.

"That's a problem."

It was embarrassing to be called out for not putting in the heart. It wasn't easy to find somebody who loved books as much as Seo Kwang. They spoke the same language. Besides, the idea of disappointing his friend did not sit well with him.

'Can I do this?' he asked himself.

"I'll only find out tomorrow."

'Then, I should just go to bed. It doesn't seem like I'll get much out of thinking all night. It'll only cloud my mind,' he thought to himself.

The next morning, he woke up after dreaming about being crushed to death by an alien monkey who had invaded the Earth. Unfortunately, he wasn't in the best of moods.

*

"You all look excited."

"We get out early today! Hooray for the essay contest!"

Everyone at school was much more lively during the morning assembly. It wasn't just Juho's class, but the entire school was boisterous. The essay contest was to take place during the morning periods. After that, everyone was going to be released. The entire school was excited by the idea of leaving early. Some students had already started making plans to go to karaoke with friends. It was as if the contest had been set aside.

"Not a lot of people seem to be interested in the contest."

"That's better for us. The Literature Club will take over," Seo Kwang said with a smile.

"You never know who you're going to be competing against," said Juho.

Seo Kwang scoffed and answered confidently, "No way! Even if there was somebody with awe-inspiring writing skills, it's not a big deal."

He seemed to be about twice as excited as his usual self. Then, Juho realized that he became talkative when he was nervous.

"Who dares challenge the Literature Club? We'll accept it any day!" he said boisterously, though it was buried by the entire school getting excited.

Some students had already started thinking about what to write. Just as a true master lived in hiding, there was no telling what kind of monstrous writers would be competing. After all, life always steered toward unexpected events.

At that moment, the door opened, and a teacher walked in. It was someone familiar.

"It's Mr. M."

Seo Kwang welcomed him. The essay contest was a test in its own right, so each teacher had to be overseeing a class. In Mr. Moon's hand, there was a stack of large, gray, recycled paper. Although he gave no instructions, the classroom became completely silent. It was the students' reflex to prepare for an exam whenever there was gray, recycled paper.

"You didn't forget about my favor, did you?" Seo Kwang asked.

He sounded calm, and Juho gave him a light nod. At that, Seo Kwang turned around without hesitation, and Juho looked at his back.

'Here come the gray pages,' he thought.

"Take one and pass it to the person behind you. You may begin as soon as you receive your paper."

Juho dook a deep breath as he listened to Mr. Moon's voice. Seo Kwang handed the paper to him.

There were squares on the large paper that almost covered the entire desk. In those squares, there were list of topics to choose from. Teacher, parents, love, friendship, school, friends, arbor day, independence movement day, etc. The list made it easy to realize that that was for a school essay contest. Juho found a word that was at the end of the list. It was radom, out of the blue.

'Plaster figure. Where did this come from? Maybe it was Mr. Moon's idea,' Juho wondered about the look on the other teachers' faces.

"Pff!"

A faint snicker came from the front. Seo Kwang had to have thought the same. Juho drew a circle around the word 'plaster figure.' His hand had moved awkwardly, and the crooked circle was bothering him.

He realized that he was completely incapable of concentrating in that moment. Other students whispered. They were asking each other what they were going to write about. Mr. Moon didn't really say much. It wasn't a strictly supervised environment. If anything, it was more like a festival. 'A festival.' Juho pictured the fireworks of a grand festival. People marching with flashy lights walked between rows of crowds. There was uplifting music, and people were filled with excitement, just like the students in that classroom.

'Speaking of which, when was the school festival again?'

The school festival was usually prepared around the time after the second years' final exam. Juho didn't have any special memories of the school festival. It hadn't exactly been fun. 'What would the Literature Club do at the festival? Set up a writing experience booth? There probably won't be anybody interested. The club was already in a classroom that was out of sight. With a boring content like that, nobody would be interested.

'Actually, are we even doing something?' he asked himself. The festival wasn't until much later, but he suddenly became curious.

After thinking about various things about the festival, Juho shook his head.

'Now's not the time. Snap out of it. Gotta write,' he reminded himself.

He concentrated on thinking about images of plaster figures. Agrippa, Venus, Julien, Michelangelo, Hermes, Apollo, Kant. They were in all sorts of shapes and sizes.

There was also a plaster figure in the art class in school. There were splashes of paint on its white, smooth surface. There were scribbles here and there, both written and erased. Her beautiful curves were stained with dark spots. If she were alive, she would have had much to complain about how she was being managed.

When Juho thought about the ivory skin of a plaster figure, his mind naturally took itself to the story of Pygmalion. 'Pygmalion.' It was the name of a sculptor who fell in love with one of his own sculptures. He stroke and kissed the sculpture. After desperate prayers, the sculpture finally became a real woman, and the two fell in love.

'Great, I'm going to read about mythology when I get home,' he thought.

Juho pinched his own forehead.

'I'm doing it again.'

The End

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31 Chapter 31 - With All His Heart 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

The bell rang. When Juho looked at the clock, he realized that the first period had just ended. The classroom became rowdy, and Mr. Moon left the room. Juho stared at his paper. He had not written a single word. There were about three hours left at that point, and there were a few half decent ideas floating around in his head. He needed something to bring it all together.

"There's still time," he murmured quietly.

'It's break time, so I should rest my mind for a little bit,' he thought.

He leaned against the rigid backrest of his chair. While he was idly staring at the ceiling, he heard Seo Kwang getting out of his seat, leaving the classroom unhurriedly.

On the seat he left behind, there were bits of eraser dust and a sheet of gray paper. There was about ⅔ of the page written. Much like Juho, Seo Kwang had circled the word 'plaster figure.' He had chosen the same topic. Juho tried to think about what he had been doing while his friend was busy writing, but soon, gave up and closed his eyes to calm his mind.

'My shoulders are too tense right now,' he thought to himself. When he relaxed his shoulders, the rigidness of the backrest asserted itself. He was finally in a good place to write.

The bell rang again. As soon as he opened his eyes, the distant noise rushed back into his ears. Some were complaining about the contest lasting for another three hours. Some were asking one another if they could read each other's paper, whereas some were busy protecting what they wrote.

Some were simply complaining for the sake of complaining. All of those different emotions and voices mingled into a big mound, and that mound was a form of protest. It was a protest against fading away as they were and a protest to be remembered. As a proof, Juho couldn't help his eyes turning towards it.

"Now's not the time."

As he was about to gather himself again, he saw Seo Kwang walking into the classroom. Seeing how his sleeves were slightly wet, he must have gone to the restroom. He sat down at his seat and took a brief moment to think. Soon, he started writing again, hard at work.

His shoulders and elbows were moving. His body leaned slightly forward. He was concentrating. At a glance, he kind of looked like a runner in the moments right before the start of a race.

As Juho stared into his back, he remembered something, 'I won the award.'

It was a fragment of a memory that had been worn out with only a small portion remaining. Inside, was Juho himself, taking the award as if he deserved it. At that time, he had already been bound to win the contest. It had been obvious. He had already been a professional writer by then. There had been some contestants who hadn't even been close to being amateurs. To them, writing had been secondary, and they had been busy playing around with each other. Some contestants had even submitted blank pages. The classroom had been twice as noisy, and he had struggled twice as much to concentrate.

Back then, he had not been close to Seo Kwang. In fact, they had not even talked to each other. Just like he had been with Ina Jang, Juho was disappointed in his past self.

'I see. Maybe, I've already disappointed myself,' he thought to himself.

He glimpsed down at his slippers. They were slightly dirty. He felt like he had been careful when he first bought them, but now, that didn't even matter.

Out of the blue, he thought that the sound of kids talking resembled the sound of rain. In his mind, his shoes were already wet. There was a puddle in front of his eyes. Without hesitation, he jumped in. The water splashed in all directions. It was refreshing.

He looked at his hand dripping with water and thought to himself, 'I might as well have some fun while I'm at it.'

Then, he looked at his blank page. Faint excitement tingled the tips of his fingers. Now, he was in a really good place to write. On a line that stretched endlessly, he wrote his first sentence.

*

"OK, submit your papers now."

His story came to an end at Mr. Moon's announcement. Fortunately, the ending was not as absurd as the protagonist dying from a head injury by monkeys raining from the sky.

"Well, I managed to finish in time."

He was relieved that he had written something and put up his hands in the air and stretched. After waiting for the wave of kids that flooded the front of the classroom, he finally walked up to Mr. Moon to submit his work.

Mr. Moon asked him, "You were serious this time, right?"

"I wrote with all my heart."

Mr. Moon had been emphasizing the end to him, but by that point, he had given up on that persistent absurdity. For that reason, Juho often heard him grumbling about his teaching career. He did feel sorry for Mr. Moon, but there was nothing that could be done.

As he went back to his seat, Seo Kwang turned around with the backrest in between his legs. His hands were glowing red. Juho looked down at his own hands. They were the same.

"I really worked my butt off," Seo Kwang said proudly. His concentration was actually quite impressive, even in Juho's eyes. His shoulders had been moving throughout the duration of the contest. It had almost looked like he had been putting in the same amount of concentration he invested into reading. It explained the satisfied look on his face.

"How about you?" he asked.

Juho answered him while rubbing his fingers that still glowed red, "Me too."

*

'Clap, clap, clap.'

The kids clapped insincerely. It was time to give out the certificates and announce the class winner. Everyone was lukewarm, from the awardees to the clapping teachers and students. Juho was one of them. As a gesture of support, he threw his hands up in the air.

"Last , but not least, the winner of this essay contest is…"

The teacher took his time. The students kept their eyes fixed on his lips in anticipation. Whether they had tried or not, all contestants were probably hoping secretly that their name was called. That was the effect an award had. Whether one had fought for it or not, he longed for it.

Similarly, Juho was listening for the winner with similar anticipation.

Soon, the teacher announced, "Seo Kwang Kim!"

It was Seo Kwang.

"Huh?" he answered with confusion. It sounded like he was wondering why his name was being called.

"Come get your award!"

"...Pardon?"

He couldn't grasp this situation. He turned back to see Juho clapping for him with a peaceful look on his face. He had been certain that Juho was going to be the winner. Even with the white certificate in his hands, he stood absent-mindedly.

He had all sorts of thoughts in his mind.

'Did Juho not keep his promise? Did he go easy on me? No, he's not like that. Then, what's this certificate doing in my hand? Why? Wait… could it be? Did I really beat Juho with my own skills…?'

"Juho Woo."

The teacher called for Juho. It was the very name Seo Kwang had been waiting for, and he prepared to clap for him.

"Follow me to the staffroom."

"Yes, sir."

Seo Kwang was confused. He needed somebody to explain the situation to him. He looked back at Juho, but he was simply smiling awkwardly.

Leaving his confused friend behind, Juho followed the teacher to the staffroom. There were teachers in charge of the first-years. Students who had business with their teachers were allowed to come in freely. There was a laughter. A teacher and students had to be sharing a joke.

It was quite different from where Juho was.

He observed the teacher's desk. There was a attendance book, and fittingly, a math textbook. Next to them was a pile of papers from the essay contest.

"Juho Woo."

Juho turned his head at the teacher's voice. He saw his familiar face. He was the math teacher who was not into books. For that, Juho felt distant from him both in the past and present.

"Do you have something you want to say to the school?"

"No, sir."

"Are you struggling with something?"

"No, sir."

"Are you being bullied?"

"No."

Although he knew that the teacher already knew the answers to his questions, Juho answered him sincerely - no. From the time Juho walked into the staffroom, the teacher had a dumbfounded look on his face.

At once, Juho set aside his anticipation. He must have gone too far, after all.

"Then what's this about?"

The teacher pulled out a page that Juho was well acquainted with. A crooked circle was surrounding the word 'plaster figure.' It was definitely his, and he answered as he saw it, "It's my essay."

"No, that's not what I asked. I'm talking about this. What's this?"

He asked pointing towards the middle of Juho's essay. Again, Juho answered as he saw it, "That's what I wrote."

"That's right. You wrote this. Just to make sure, nobody forced you to write this, right?"

"No, I wrote it."

The teacher nodded. Then he read one of the sentences out loud. Perhaps he was conscious of his surroundings. His voice was just loud enough for Juho to hear.

"A pair of bonobos were having sex. They entwined their bodies for the sake of peace. Gender or numbers were not a priority...skipping over. I always watch them. The moment they reach the climax…"

What he read was the intro. It was the part where a bonobo in a zoo was narrating from the perspective of a plaster figure in front of its cage. In the places the teacher skipped over, there was a description of the intercourse in greater detail. Juho did wonder if he would be able to get away with what he wrote, but he had decided not to change it. He had made a promise with a friend after all.

"Artistic, isn't it?"

"Right. It's a shame that the school couldn't embrace your artistic value."

He stood straight and asked a serious question. It seemed like he was finally about to get to the point, "Do you watch a lot of porn?"

"I do enjoy watching 'Animal Kingdom' a lot."

Bonobo. Primate pongid. Mammal. The protagonist definitely explained Juho's fondness towards the show. The teacher decided to watch the show himself after work.

"You're in the Literature Club, right? Mr. Moon was very satisfied with what you wrote."

"That's a good news."

'Good thing I'm not going to have to listen to him grumble,' he thought.

"I did enjoy reading your paper. I can tell that you're a good writer, but you won't get an award. You understand, right? We display winning essays in the hallway. Your paper is not suited for that, unfortunately. For kids your age, your paper does pack a punch both in terms of content and your skills."

Juho nodded lightly.

During a brief pause, the sound of laughter came from behind him. It was an innocent laughter.

"Think about your grades too. You're an amazing writer, but why is it that your linguistics grade is suffering?"

"I think I did well, at least in my own way."

"That's not enough."

Compared to his grades in the past, Juho was doing much better. Yet, it must have not been enough to satisfy his homeroom teacher. Satisfying someone was a difficult task. After briefly asking how Juho was doing, the teacher let him go.

"Pass this out to the kids while you're at it."

Of course, he didn't send him out empty handed. Juho left the staffroom with a pile of gray leaves of paper, and he let out a faint sigh.

'Now, the only person left is Seo Kwang. I better give him an explanation,' he thought.

The End

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32 Chapter 32 - With All His Heart 4

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

As Juho was about to head over to class, something caught his eyes in the corner of the hallway. It looked like a person who had been rolled up into a giant ball. Recognizing the appearance from behind, he struck up a conversation.

"What are you doing here?"

It was Seo Kwang.

"What are you doing?"

"I just had a flashback about my shameful past," he shoved his fingers between his hair and ruffled it.

Seo Kwang was writhing violently.

"What brings you here?"

"I followed you."

"Did you hear?"

"I did."

Seo Kwang had been following Juho since he headed to the staffroom with the homeroom teacher. He had wanted to know the reason for Juho not winning the contest. He went into the staffroom and pretended to be waiting for a teacher as he eavesdropped on the conversation between the two.

It was hard to make out what the teacher was saying, but Seo Kwang was able to get a grasp of what they were talking about. After all, Juho's compositions tended to be provocative.

He was relieved on one hand, but he couldn't bear the shame of thinking even for a moment that he had surpassed Juho with skill. In the end, he ran out of the staffroom. He couldn't help but writhe in shame as he blamed himself.

"I'm not sure what's going on in your life, but hang in there."

It was an irresponsible encouragement.

Seo Kwang remained crouched and said, "I was confused because of you. What did you write to be disqualified? Give it here."

After a brief moment of thought, Juho asked, "How do I know you're not going to run off with it?"

"What are you talking about?"

'How provocative!' After talking to the teacher, a small seed of hesitation sprouted in Juho's mind.

The teacher had said it himself with a calm voice, "You did well. I enjoyed reading it."

If Juho had been about the same age as the teacher, Seo Kwang wouldn't have been so shocked. Juho was old. As old as he was, he had experience. He was different from Seo Kwang, who was still in his reckless youth. He had probably thought to himself, 'If I work really hard, I'll be able to write like him when I'm older.'

Juho thought about the time when Seo Kwang came over to his house. Seo Kwang hadn't been calm. He had no idea that it took Juho thirty years of blood, sweat, and tears to get to where he is.

"It might be a bit overbearing for underage readers."

At his words, Seo Kwang quietly stood up. Then, he put out his hand.

"I want to read it. Sincerely. You've got to follow the desires of your heart, right?"

That was what Juho had said when Seo Kwang first opened up about wanting to be a novelist.

Without saying anything further, he took his paper from the top of the pile and handed to Seo Kwang. He watched his paper reach Seo Kwang's hand and went on his way.

Seo Kwang stayed in the hallway and leaned against the wall. He paused briefly. His hands were getting sweaty. He took a deep breath and looked at the paper. Along with a circle around the word 'plaster figure,' the page was filled with neatly written characters.

In a single breath, he read Juho's heartfelt composition. The noise in the hallway faded away, and he heard the rustling sound of a bird in a distance.

"Ha"

That was the first thing he said after reading the paper.

'This is it. This is the feeling.'

A sense of satisfaction filled him up from deep within. That was the reason why he read.

"This guy drives me nuts!"

The story was about a plaster figure who went on a journey to find his place in the zoo. It saw all kinds of things. Animals, people, love, peace, violence, murder… At the end, the plaster figure looked back at himself—his powerless self who could do nothing apart from getting moved around by others.

The next day, the plaster figure was found shattered to pieces, and the story came to a bitter end.

"What a rascal. He has guts to write something like this at school."

The story had a dark tone to it. It was filled with sex between animals, murder and violence. Yet, there were characters who loved and longed for peace in the middle of it all. Everyone was different. They each lived accordingly with their opinions. There was no right answer. Nobody was better than the other. And, at the end of it, was the plaster figure itself.

"So, who's the culprit of breaking the plaster figure?"

Seo Kwang imagined the figure shattered to pieces. Scattered debris. Broken shapes. There were no weapons of any sort within its proximity. The figure shattered its own shell. It broke the shell that was carved to look like somebody else and went on a journey to find its true identity. It was nothing like what it had been seeing. It was neither bonobo nor people. It never loved. It never knew peace. It was indifferent towards murder and violence.

Seo Kwang looked out of the window. The figure was probably still on its journey. It had probably not accomplished anything yet. He imagined it wandering about the streets.

He didn't feel any pain.

"I'll join you."

He took a step toward the empty stairway.

*

"Sun Hwa won the award in our class."

After gathering in the science room, the members started discussing the contest results amongst themselves. As Juho announced Seo Kwang had received the award, Bom responded as if she were looking to exchange results. She looked happy. Sun Hwa also proudly raised her hands in response, and Baron joined in.

"Did you get an award too, Baron?"

"I know how to write. I just don't," he answered brusquely. He might not say much, but he said what he needed to.

"We did an amazing job!" Bom exclaimed with joy. Every member did a remarkable job in their respective classes. After keeping his mouth closed, Seo Kwang said, "So, I guess that means the three of us are getting fried chicken."

"I'm sharing it with Bom."

At Sun Hwa's words, Juho added at once, "Then who would be so generous as to share their chicken? Baron? Seo Kwang Kim?"

Nobody answered.

"Kind of quiet, don't you think?"

"It's a trend nowadays to have a whole chicken to yourself. Sorry, bud."

"A trend, you say."

"I had no idea you guys were so trendy."

As Seo Kwang and Sun Hwa quarrelled, there was a sound of the door opening. A mouth watering aroma filled the science room. Mr. Moon had brought fried chicken as he'd promised. He almost looked heroic holding bags of fried chicken in his hands. The two stopped their quarreling and cheered out loud. Juho clapped gently.

"I brought fried chicken."

He put down the bags of chicken onto the desk. It seemed like more than enough for three people, and Juho counted six boxes.

"I brought some for the participants too. Let's dig in."

"Mr. Moon, you're the trendiest person in this room."

That day, the Literature Club became one with fried chicken.

*

The sky was especially blue. The clouds were slowly floating by. The sun was busy at work, trying to shine its light through the clouds. Juho looked up to the clear sky until his neck hurt. There was faint scent of sunscreen. It was Bom. Sun Hwa and Bom sat together, applying sunscreen to their faces. Their movements seemed adept.

Baron was with his sketchbook under the shade of a tree, and Seo Kwang was watching the ants passing by.

At that moment, Juho saw Mr. Moon from afar, walking towards the club members.

"Mr. Moon, why are we meeting in the yard?"

"We're running today," he said nonchalantly.

There were other activities taking place in the schoolyard, like badminton or soccer. The Literature Club had reserved a portion of the yard. There were straight lines drawn on the ground, so it was a good place for a sprint race.

"Why are we running?"

"Is this an endurance training?"

Sun Hwa and Seo Kwang had asked simultaneously. Mr. Moon put his hand over his eyes to protect them from the bright sunlight and answered. "From this moment on, you will sprint from here to there. Run until you're out of breath, and then we'll immediately pick up our pens. Write whatever sentence comes to mind first. Make sure it's full of life."

It was a creative teaching method.

Though he didn't exercise regularly, Juho was looking forward to running for the first time in a very long time. Again, Mr. Moon emphasized that it was a sprint race. Immediately after the race, the members would pick up their pens and begin writing.

'What kind of things would this race bring out?' Juho wondered curiously.

"Stretch your bodies first. National Exercise, go."

While he drew the starting and finish lines on the ground, the members stretched. In contrast to the awkward movements of the first-years, Baron went through the National Exercise with swift and controlled movements.

"Are you running too, Baron?"

"We'll see. I wanted to stretch just in case."

Soon, Mr. Moon came back and told Baron, "Everyone's going to be running in pairs, but you're more than welcome to run on your own."

"I'll do it."

Just like that, everyone participated in the race. Seeing everyone turning their wrist and ankles after finishing stretching, Mr. Moon said, "Now, why don't we start the race? Juho. Seo Kwang."

"Yes, sir."

"Hi."

First up were Juho and Seo Kwang. The two stood next to each other in front of the white starting line.

Once the cloud had passed the sun, the grains of sand sparkled brightly. When Juho moved his feet around, feeling the sand underneath, a dust cloud rose. There were sounds of the other clubs sharing the schoolyard. They were chanting here and there.

"Are you a good runner?" Seo Kwang asked.

It was obvious that he was probing his opponent, and Juho answered with a faint smile, "I'm alright. You?"

"I'm alright too."

There was an odd tension between the two. Mr. Moon had a silver whistle of mysterious origin in his hand, and Sun Hwa cheered on loudly, "Woohoo!"

At her cheering, the students playing badminton looked in her direction.

While the two were waiting for a starting signal, a soccer ball rolled toward them, and Seo Kwang gently kicked it away. It flew in a good direction.

While that was happening, Juho took the time to stretch some more.

"By the way, what should I write? Something like 'my heart is thumping?'"

"We'll see when we get to the finish line."

'What comes out will depend on our condition when we reach the finish line,' thought Juho.

The two positioned themselves. The white finish line was visible from afar.

'All I need to do is run. No thoughts. With everything I got,' he reminded himself.

Mr .Moon put his whistle to his mouth.

"Ready?"

Go!

The whistle blew loudly. The signal resembled a scream, and the moment he heard it, Juho flexed his legs and bolted off.

He felt his sight getting narrower by the second. Seo Kwang wasn't even visible. The shape of his surroundings distorted, and his body started wobbling. Yet, he saw one thing.

The white line.

'Run, run, run, with everything you got,' Juho thought to himself every moment his foot touched the ground. The seconds before reaching the finish line, he heard Seo Kwang catching up to him and thought to himself, 'I don't want to lose.'

"Goal!" somebody shouted.

When Juho reached the finish line, he couldn't see anything. There was nothing but heavy breathing.

Juho slowed down for some time after he had gone past the finish line. His sides were in pain, and his thighs were sore. When he leaned forward, his heart thumped out of control. His wet, sweaty hair covered his sight. That moment, he heard Mr. Moon's voice, "Start writing!"

He grabbed the piece of paper that was next to the finish line. It was slightly crumpled, but he paid no attention. Then, he scribbled, "I'm dying."

The End

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33 Chapter 33 - He’s Nearby 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

Seo Kwang reached the finish line soon after and collapsed onto the ground. He, too, was quick to reach for a pen, but it wasn't long before he stopped writing. It couldn't have been a long sentence.

"I won't lose next time," he said as he gasped for breath.

"I'll be ready."

"No, don't be."

Juho couldn't afford to indulge in the moment of victory. He had beaten Seo Kwang by a hair, probably by less than a step.

"It's kind of refreshing actually," Seo Kwang said as he stood up.

"It's been a while since I ran like this."

It had been different from running to measure endurance in P.E. They ran with everything they had. They didn't let anything hold them back. An innocent competitive spirit sprung out of their hearts.

Juho looked at his paper with the single phrase written on it. The result hadn't been so great.

As the two were panting, Sun Hwa and Bom prepared for their race.

"Hyah!" Sun Hwa shouted.

The two girls had already passed the midpoint and were headed toward Juho and Seo Kwang. Juho watched them running desperately as their bangs flapped to and fro.

When they were about three steps away from the finish line, they slowed down. They had already reached a finish line in their minds.

There was a contrast between them and Juho and Seo Kwang, who only slowed down well past the finish line.

In the end, Sun Hwa came in first and grabbed her side as she coughed.

"Oh, my! I'm dying," those were the first words that came out of her lips.

Bom staggered her way toward her piece of paper. However, she couldn't start writing. Instead, she had her hands on the ground, catching her breath.

"Ah! I'm dizzy," Sun Hwa said as she rubbed her side. Bom nodded.

"You guys are terribly out of shape," having caught his breath by the time the two were running toward him and Juho, Seo Kwang said mockingly.

Perhaps he wasn't aware of the fact that what went around, came around. 'Who was it that had gasped for breath just a moment ago?'

"I saw you crawling," Sun Hwa mocked him back.

As he was about to speak out of annoyance, Juho calmed him down and said. "I'm beat. Can we do this later?"

"It's Baron's turn."

At his words, everyone turned their eyes to the starting line. His determination could be felt all the way from the finish line. He almost looked like a predator that had spotted a prey.

"Ready, go!"

As soon as the whistle blew, Baron strode ahead. Just watching him run felt refreshing. He was fast, really fast.

"He's so fast!"

"What the heck? Since when was he so athletic? Didn't he used to be in the Art Club?"

As he ran past them, the four who kept their eyes fixed on Baron followed him. A wind followed Baron as he ran past Juho. His hair flapped.

"He's already here!"

As if he wasn't even tired, Baron calmly walked toward the other club members. He put his hands up and posed for his victory, and the freshmen looked at him with respect.

The sole artist in the club not only had the writing skills to win an award for the essay contest, but he was also an impressive runner. He was multi-talented.

"Baron, that was amazing!"

"I see why you wanted to run by yourself."

Juho pulled a piece paper for Baron as he walked toward him.

"You should write too, Baron."

He stared at the paper for a brief moment and responded with a confident face, "Write this down for me. 'He resembled a gust of wind.'"

It wasn't long before the adulation turned into jeering.

---

"Baron, let's go get some tteokbokki (stir-fried rice cakes)."

"Tteokbokki?"

"All that running is making us hungry."

All the first years had already agreed to the idea, so Baron was the only person who had to be informed. He nodded willingly, and they decided to meet at a snack stand in front of school.

"What if I get sick tomorrow? I hardly exercise, so my muscles are probably not used to working so hard."

"You should've exercised more."

"Look who's talking."

"It is true that you're out of shape."

"Baron!? You too??"

Everyone chimed in at Seo Kwang's exaggerated remark. Amid it all, Bom spoke up, "You'll feel better if you massage your legs with a warm towel."

At that, Seo Kwang answered as if he had met his savior, "I knew I could count on Bom. She's always the first to clean up at the end of the day."

From the snack party to the fried chicken party, Bom had always been the first person to pick up the trash. It was like a habit.

At his compliment, she waved her hand in denial. She was the only person who wasn't aware that Seo Kwang was getting a kick out of seeing her uncomfortable.

"There she goes again."

"I'm serious. I just have a peculiar personality. If I see a mess, I have clean to it. It bothers me otherwise."

"You're so modest."

Seeing her face flushing bright red, Sun Hwa spoke up. She said as she slapped Seo Kwang on the back, "We all know Bom's nice, so you should stop talking about it now."

Juho saw Seo Kwang twisting his body in pain and chimed in, "I knew this was going to happen."

Baron responded, "Why didn't you do anything to stop them?"

"They're not going to listen anyway. Besides, it looks good."

"What about it?"

The fact that they were able to play around with each other meant that they had gotten that much closer. It wasn't common in a club for the members to grow closer with one another as a whole. Being small in numbers definitely had its advantages.

"They seemed to be having fun too."

Nobody complained about how Mr. Moon taught them. Everyone enjoyed writing.

Juho remembered him saying that he had brought back the Literature Club to make school more fun, but there was no way a Literature Club could be fun.

"I'm so hungry."

"What are you going to get?"

"Are you getting fritters?"

At Juho's words, everyone started thinking about what they were going to order. The members left the front gate and walked into the alleyway where the snack stand was. Juho was following them from behind. As he walked, he felt something foreign. Somebody had grabbed him. As he stopped in his tracks, the hand came off of him.

"Hold up."

It was a low voice. Juho turned his head to see a boy standing behind him. He didn't recognize the boy's uniform.

"What is it?"

As Juho stopped, everyone else stopped walking and looked back. They seemed just as confused by the appearance of that mysterious student from another school. Juho felt a slight wariness and asked, "Do you have a business with me?"

"Yes," the boy affirmed.

For a brief moment, Juho stared at his eyebrows. They were really thick. There was a brief pause and Seo Kwang stepped up, "You seem like you're from another school. What's your business?"

The boy took a moment to look at Juho, his uniform, and his trail, then he opened his mouth, "I was told that Yun Woo is here."

'Yun Woo.' Juho immediately took his eyes off the boy's eyebrows.

"What?" Seo Kwang asked in a weak voice.

What had just come out of that boy's mouth was just as random as his sudden appearance. 'Did he just say Yun Woo?'

"Yun Woo? As in the author?"

"Yeah, I'm here to meet Yun Woo. Could you let him know?"

Juho thought about where to begin, 'How do I correct him?'

"Who told you that? Who said Yun Woo's here?"

"What do you mean?"

This time, the boy had a confused look on his face.

"Who told you that Yun Woo's in our school?"

"Everyone knows. I heard she's really pretty."

'No. Yun Woo's not a she, let alone pretty,' Juho barely swallowed those words.

The boy observed the situation and said, "I saw you guys running. I saw you writing something too. I asked the people playing badminton, and they told me you're in the Literature Club. Wouldn't that mean you know where Yun Woo is?"

'I see,' Juho thought.

As he grasped the situation, he sternly shook his head.

"The rumor about Yun Woo isn't true."

The boy scowled as if he had just heard something unexpected.

"I've heard some people even got an autograph."

'That's true. By a girl named Ina Jang,' thought Juho.

"Some people have pictures of her too."

He listed one evidence at a time. His desire to meet Yun Woo was apparent in his voice. Sadly, the rumor wasn't true.

"It's a long story. Anyhow, the point is that the rumor is a hoax."

The boy stayed silent. It was apparent from a glimpse that the air surrounding him was sinking. He was easy to read. His thick overall build gave off a strong impression, especially his eyebrows.

Juho turned his attention to his eyebrows again. It wasn't simply because of their thickness. He felt a sense of déjà vu.

'Where did I see that face? Those eyebrows look so familiar. I could've sworn I've seen him before."

The boy suddenly asked, "Can you direct me to a police station nearby?"

"Police station?"

"I have a business to attend to."

'Business?! He was a busy student, that one. After coming to look for Yun Woo, his next stop a police station?'

"What's the business?"

"This."

The boy raised his hand. There were dollar bills folded in half. It was hard to count how many there were, but it was definitely not a large sum of money. Juho asked curiously, "Did you find that?"

"Yes."

"How much is it?"

"Three dollars."

'What a surprise?! Who would have thought there was a student like this in this age?'

This student was asking Juho for direction to a police station so he could return the three dollars he had come across.

'Goodness!' Juho felt sad that he was finding that boy's decision to be unrealistic.

Maybe he had seen that strangely familiar boy in 'Good Samaritan of the Month' on TV.

As he was busy thinking, a voice came from behind. It was coming from quite far. He turned around and saw that the other club members were getting further away.

"We're starving, so we're going ahead! Take your time!"

Before he had time to say anything, they had disappeared into the alley.

"Well, that happened."

In the end, Juho and the boy were the only people left.

'Maybe I should invite him to join us while I'm at it,' he thought.

It was possible that he might be able to find the inspiration for his next book from that boy. He opened his mouth as the boy waited for an answer, "Hey, can we eat something first? All that running is really making me hungry."

The boy hesitated, but soon nodded.

"It'd be nice if you could tell me more about Yun Woo. By the way, how to get to the police station."

Since he was interested in getting to know that boy, Juho accepted. The two made their way into a nearby fast food restaurant.

As they waited for their turn, Juho asked, "Are you a fan of Yun Woo?"

"No," the boy shook his head without hesitation.

After the unexpected answer, Juho made another question, "Then, why'd you go through the trouble of coming to my school to meet Yun Woo?"

"I wanted to see my rival's face."

At his confident declaration, Juho took a moment to think.

'Did I have a rival like this?'

Chapter 33 - He's Nearby (1); The End

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34 Chapter 34 - He’s Nearby 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

When Juho and the boy went into a common fast food chain, they were welcomed by its distinct deep fried smell. There were part timers in their yellow-and-red uniforms working busily at the counter. Juho got in line to order. The cashier seemed to be around his age, but it might have been her thick makeup.

The line was not very long, so he was able to order quickly. His eyes met with the cashier's. Her eyelashes were smothered in black liquid, and he was given a nonverbal signal to order. She was quite unfriendly, but he ordered a combo meal, paying no attention to her attitude.

"What are you getting?"

"The same."

Juho and the boy each paid for their own meal. As Juho finished paying, the boy handed her a ten dollar bill. With an insincere tone, she asked him to wait about five minutes and then handed him the change. However, he wasn't moving for some reason.

"You didn't give me the correct amount of change."

"Pardon?"

"I'm supposed to be getting forty cents, but you gave me eighty. You must have gotten one of the coins mixed up."

With a bitter look, the cashier took one of his coins back and exchanged them for the proper amount. There was definitely something different about that guy. Heck, he even tried to take three dollars that he found back to the police station. He must not like getting any more or less than what he's due.

After they each received their buzzer, the two went up to the second floor and found a table by the window. The restaurant was not very crowded. In the distance, there were two couples in their suits who appeared to be corporate workers.

As the two waited silently for their buzzers to go off, the boy suddenly started talking, "What's your name?"

Juho realized that they hadn't introduced themselves to each other.

"Juho Woo. How about you?"

"I'm Pil Sung Choi."

"I don't recognize the uniform. Where's your school? I'm a freshman. Are you older than me?"

Pil Sung shook his head and said that he was in the same year.

"I'm from a neighboring town."

He made it sound like it was not a big deal. Seeing how he had caught Juho near the front gate, he didn't seem to know anybody at the school. He didn't seem like he knew the neighborhood either. The only thing that had brought him to Juho's school was a dated rumor about Yun Woo. He seemed like a doer.

"So, you just blindly made your way here?"

"I took the subway."

Their conversations crossed, and Juho stopped talking. That moment, their buzzers started vibrating. He stopped Pil Sung getting up from his seat and went down on his own to pick up their meals.

"You came a long way. Stay here."

Since he was hungry, Juho took a big bite out of his burger. It tasted like how he expected.

"So, is Yun Woo really not in your school?"

"Nope. We did have an impostor, but she confessed," Juho explained without getting into a lot of details.

"That rumor's kind of dated now. You must have heard it late."

"I have no friends around."

As if he were talking about the weather, he sounded humdrum. Juho found his attitude odd.

'He doesn't look like he's rough around the edges. Could it be his personality? Either way, it's not a good subject,' he thought.

He took a sip from his drink and asked, "So, what did you mean by rival?"

"It's exactly as I said. I'm going to be Yun Woo's rival."

He sounded determined this time. 'Yun Woo's rival. He could not look any more unrefined chewing on his burger.'

"Is that what a rival means to you? Did you think about Yun Woo's perspective?" Juho said with a smile.

"That's why I came here, to see what that person looks like."

"So, did you accomplish what you came for?"

His thick eyebrows scowled a little.

"I'm still not giving up being a rival," he said stubbornly.

"How come?" Juho asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Why do you want to be Yun Woo's rival?"

"Because I also write."

Juho was slightly surprise. Of course, he assumed that the boy was also a writer when he first said the word 'rival.' Yet, hearing it from him was a different experience.

He was a writer too. He was Juho's age. Yet, he boldly declared himself to be Yun Woo's rival.

"Everyone seems to think of Yun Woo as this mysterious, unreachable person."

"Is that so? I'm not sure."

"You're not sure?"

After some time thinking, Pil Sung said, "My friend lives far away."

His answer was far from the subject they had been on, but for now, Juho listened.

"We'd been close since elementary school. We moved up to high school together, but we ended up in different classes. I adapted, but he was bullied."

He picked up a french fry and put it in his mouth.

"It didn't matter that I was at the same school. Even when I told the teacher, it only went as far as a warning. What's funny is that both my friend and I received warnings. 'Be aware of the trends. Don't show off. Get used to people calling you names that you don't like.' It sounded like we were the ones at fault. I was so pissed, but the teacher was looking the other way. So what could I do? My friend ended up transferring to another school, and I was left alone."

He explained that in the process of standing up for his friend, he naturally grew apart from friends he was close to previously. He was alone.

"That's when I saw the name Yun Woo. It was in the school library. I had been thinking about why things happened the way they had, but it felt like that name would give me an explanation."

"So, did you get an explanation from that author, Yun Woo?" Juho asked.

Pil Sung shook his head, "No."

'Of course.' He chugged his drink. Meanwhile, Juho ate a French fry. Somehow, Juho felt empty on the inside.

At that moment, Pil Sung continued,

"It was still comforting. You're supposed to be next to the person you're comforting. So I don't feel that Yun Woo is distant."

Juho hesitated.

"I wanted to be like Yun Woo, but obviously, I'm not Yun Woo. So I'm going to be his rival."

It still didn't make sense entirely, but if that was what he wanted…

After a brief pause, Juho took another bite of his burger. He was getting excited.

'Stay calm,' he reminded himself. The lettuce in his burger felt refreshing for no apparent reason.

The two quietly finished their meal. When they were down to a few pieces of french fries, Pil Sung asked, "So what's the Literature Club like? Do you have to run everyday?"

"Nope. We ran earlier because we were learning how to write vividly. You sprint with everything you have, and then you get to writing right away. Well, I was dying, so I couldn't even finish my sentence."

"That's unusual."

"Trust me. It's usually worse."

Pil Sung seemed interested about the Literature Club, and Juho told him about what they had learned from Mr. Moon: word gathering, transcription, composition topics, charades… etc.

"Not too long ago, Mr. Moon even brought his goldfish in its bowl. We were learning about catching external and internal characteristics of what we were seeing. Towards the end, he told us to write from the perspective of the goldfish."

He thought about what he wrote then, 'Gaping. Feed me.' It had been something to that effect. Pil Sung's eyes sparkled as he listened to Juho.

"Did you not join a Literature Club in your school?"

"We don't have one."

"That's a bummer."

"I go to a culture center on the weekends instead. Sometimes, there are lectures given by famous authors."

He listed the names of the authors. Dong Gil Uhm was one of them, and Juho was familiar with him.

"How how was Dong Gil Uhm's lecture?"

"It was edifying for the most part. Half of the people were falling asleep though."

"It must have been boring."

"I enjoyed it. It kind of sucked that there were no breaks in between."

Juho was able to picture the scene. Dong Gil Uhm had a tendency of being serious about every matter. He probably spent a lot of time preparing for the lecture. Then, he probably poured out everything he had prepared.

Juho imagined Dong Gil delivering a lecture with his distinct, rigid expression.

'Actually, Dong Gil and Pil Sung are kind of similar in some ways,' he thought. They were both sincere and doers. The difference was that Dong Gil was cold, and Pil Sung was hot. It was the difference between being cold-hearted and passionate. As he was in his thoughts, Pil Sung started talking.

"Can you show me what word gathering looks like?"

"There's no reason for me to say no."

Out of his bag, Juho took out a notebook and handed some of the pages with his writing over to Pil Sung. At that moment, his phone rang. It was a picture message from Seo Kwang.

The picture was filled with the excited looks of the four club members with a large plate of tteokbokki in the middle. There was text underneath.

'I'm worried that you might be starving somewhere. Fritters were on the house by the way.'

By contrast, Juho took a picture of his nearly finished combo meal and sent it to Seo Kwang.

'Thanks for your concern,' he wrote.

"Juho Woo."

"Huh?"

Juho lifted up his head after sending the message. Pil Sung had come uncomfortably close to him, and Juho pulled away out of reflex. Pil Sung drew even closer with his hands on the table.

'What's gotten into him?' Juho thought.

"Is there a problem?"

"I've decided."

"You decided what?"

"To be your rival."

"What?"

"I want to be yours and Yun Woo's rival."

"... I didn't know being a rival worked like that." While looking at his paper in Pil Sung's hand, he asked, "Did you like what I wrote?"

"Quite so."

A direct answer.

"I'm flattered, but I'm not into rivalry. A rivalry is only valid when both parties recognize each other as rivals."

"Don't worry. My goal is to be a world renowned novelist. Once I accomplish that, both you and Yun Woo will come to recognize me, whether you want to or not."

"I admire your confidence."

Pil Sung wasn't entirely bluffing. The evidence was in the fact that he had ultimately accomplished his objective. He had wanted to see Yun Woo and he had met Juho.

As Juho pulled away from that reckless boy, he suddenly realized why he had felt a sense of déjà vu when he had first met Pil Sung.

'Bestselling author, Sung Pil.'

"Pil Sung. Sung Pil."

"Hm? Who's Sung Pil?"

'Of course! Pil Sung Choi was Sung Pil.' Juho had only seen his face in his profile picture before. Now, he looked much younger, and his eyebrows were much thicker.

'I knew I'd seen him before,' Juho thought.

He was looking at the face of a celebrity author as a teenager. The memories of Sung Pil slowly came back. Once the wall had come down, a wave of information flooded into Juho's mind.

That boy was going to be the next big-name author after Juho. He was Sung Pil himself, who debuted as a novelist at the age of twenty.

When Juho had wandered about the streets as a homeless man, Sung Pil had secured his place as one of the best authors the country had to offer. Juho smirked.

That incredible author had come looking for him, wanting to be his rival.

"Maybe this is an honor."

"What is?"

Juho looked out of the window for a moment. The traffic lights had turned green. People were crossing the streets.

"OK. From now on, I'm calling you Sung Pil."

"Why is that?"

"Instead of an answer, I'll give you my number, as a rival."

Juho took out his phone. Sung Pil asked no more and nodded with a joyful look on his face.

Chapter 34 - He's Nearby (2); The End

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35 Chapter 35 - The Woman and Her Guitar

***

Hey everyone,

SootyOwl and ShawnSuh here. We are loving the response you guys are having for the novel and for the work we are doing translating it. We come bearing some news that some of you might not like. As you know, The Great Storyteller is a Korean novel. Under Webnovel and Munpia's partnership to bring Korean novels to a greater audience, Munpia requested that their novels go premium after 40 chapters in order to protect their copyrights and for their authors' benefit.

We hope the you guys stick with us as we watch Juho's future change together, but we understand if you are unable to.

Thank you for your understanding.

***

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

Juho accompanied Pil Sung, who he now referred to as Sung Pil, to the police station. The officers gave the two a dumbfounded look, which made sense considering that teenagers had walked into a police station wanting to return the three dollars one of them had found on the street. As a reward, the two had received a handful of candy. With a satisfied look on his face, Sung Pil popped one of them into his mouth.

In the end, the three dollars he had tried to return ended up in his hands. The two found out that there was a law for the lost items that stated that when a lost item was not claimed within a certain period of time, the finder was given the legal rights to keep the item. At that, Sung Pil asked the officers to hold onto the three dollars. The officers waved their hands to convey that that wasn't necessary. After going back and forth with the officers for some time, he ended up putting the money into a donation box to combat child hunger.

After watching that strange scene for some time, Juho went home with a peppermint candy in his mouth.

"Haha."

Aside from the word 'funny,' there was no other way to describe what had happened earlier. He had read Sung Pil's book before. Every character had had a humane charm. The book had made its readers pity them, and at the end, root for them.

'Now that I think about it, the book was kind of like the writer,' he thought.

He was in danger, and it felt foreign. It almost felt like he was about to be swallowed up by a colossal wave if he didn't act. Yet, he wasn't scared. In fact, he was looking forward to this new future. Pil Sung's appearance had not been part of Juho's past. His life was definitely taking a turn, and thanks to Pil Sung, Juho's uncertain future was becoming more colorful.

He hoped for a future where he discussed their works with his reckless friend.

In order for that to happen, he had to survive in the world of literature. If he were to be pushed out like in the past, that future would never come.

Juho instinctively reached for a pen.

'Why does a person live?" he quietly asked himself. 'What was the meaning of living life?'

Before digging any deeper, he thought about whether he really existed. If people could no longer see or hear the person named Juho, he might be no different from being dead.

There was a sound coming from the living room. It was the news. Apparently, somebody had won the lottery for a large sum of money.

'If one couldn't be heard, seen, or leave any trace of himself, did that mean he still existed?'

Of course.

"Even if it wasn't me, there's always somebody winning the lottery somewhere."

'In other words, wouldn't that mean that there are people living even in unseen places? There's no need to complicate this.'

He accepted his recently thought-of impulsive logic.

'What would it feel like to win the lottery?' he calmly put himself in that position. Various thoughts began to spring up. Happiness, fear, anger, will to live… Yet nothing reached the depths of his heart.

"I got nothing."

Juho tore his hair out. He looked at the leaves of paper untidily strewn across the room. They were messy. They were his stream of consciousness. Something was left unfinished, and it was bothering him.

"I should try going outside."

He changed quickly and then left the house for a change of scenery.

He walked aimlessly over the hills and across the bridge. After waiting for the light, he walked past a building to reached a neighborhood park.

Impulsively, he went inside. There were kids and parents. The park was big enough for a playground and a small stage, and there was even an elephant in the zoo.

"It's been a while," he said to himself.

The elephant kept trying to go inside the enclosure, showing only its behind to the people watching in front of the cage. A child shouted, "Look over here!"

As if it understood, it lowered its head.

The child started throwing a tantrum at his mother. The mother passively comforted the child. She was preoccupied with the even younger child she was holding her arms.

The elephant was not going to lift up its head anytime soon, and the child's tantrum was certainly not going to change that.

Juho went further into the park. In contrast to inside, where it was booming with children, the outside was quiet and calm. There were a few elderly people in places. The air also felt strangely calm, and Juho's pace naturally became slower.

When he walked around the thinner-bodied trees, he saw the green lawn.

'Maybe I should hang out there,' he thought as he walked toward it. Sadly, there was a long rope boarding it off. 'Keep off the grass.'

'I thought grass grew the more it was stepped on,' he thought to himself out of disappointment.

After hovering around the lawn for some time, he eventually turned back. There was no other choice.

"No inspiration, and now I can't even go on the grass. This is not my day," he grumbled.

As he was about to turn around, he heard a sound.

"What was that?"

It was coming from between an elderly person and the boundary of the grass. The path was still covered in brown leaves. It might have been the place where the street cleaners kept the leaves after raking. It almost looked like the time had stopped ticking in that area.

The sound continued with a thin voice that could be lost in a whisper.

He slowly made his way through the brown leaves and walked toward the sound.

"Yeehaw!"

The sound grew louder as he got closer. He heard a tasteful rhythm in between that did not suit the thin, delicate voice. Curiosity hastened him to get even closer to the sound.

"La, la, la," there was a woman singing. "La, la, tra-lala."

The woman had a guitar in her hands. She was singing amid the elderly. Along with the sound of the guitar, Juho was finally able to hear the lyrics.

Well, there wasn't much to the lyrics. From the beginning to the end, 'la, la, la' was the only thing that came out of the girl's voice. It sounded like she had replaced the lyrics with them.

The woman seemed to be in her thirties, with average look and skill. Her playing was nothing short of an amateurish. One wouldn't be able to compliment it, even out of politeness. In other words, she was terrible. In spite of it, the elderly were clapping to her songs. They were loving it.

After performing for some time with only 'La, la, la' and "Hm, mm, mm,' she bowed to her audience to thanked them. It was a professional.

'I guess she's not planning on performing through the night,' Juho thought.

As soon as the woman stopped singing, the park grew silent again. The elderly people left one by one, until there were only a few left. It was a strange sight. There was no wind. The leaves weren't blowing. The elderly weren't moving either. The woman walking down the stage was the only movement there was.

Juho approached the woman as she opened her guitar case to place it inside. At the sound of his footsteps, she turned to looked at him.

"Can I help you?" the woman asked wearing the guitar over her shoulders.

It wasn't so much that he needed help. Seeing him hesitate, the woman started putting her guitar back into its case.

Finally, he asked, "Are you a singer?"

"Nope."

"Aspiring?"

"Nope."

"Hobby?"

"How about this?" she tilted her head as she was asked a strange question. Fortunately, she didn't seem to be bothered by Juho's questions. If at all, she seemed somewhat entertained. "I'm in the process of looking for work. I couldn't find a corporate job, which is why I'm singing and playing guitar."

"So you're resting in a sense?"

"It's tiresome to sing and play guitar."

She emphasized that something tiresome couldn't be a form of rest. Perhaps that tiresome deed had a deeper meaning to her.

'Employment.'

Juho thought of what he had seen on the TV recently. A panel of people had asked a successful CEO, "What are some ways that people who went to a no-name school can find a job?"

He responded, "It's discrimination to be treated equally as those who went to a prestigious school. These people fought for the name of their schools."

The camera showed the faces of those who were searching for a job after graduating from a no-name school. They seemed burnt out. Perhaps, people could still get burnt out even if they hadn't tried. Perhaps they're burnt out precisely because they hadn't tried. It was the punishment for not trying harder than the others.

Juho wanted to ask the CEO one question, 'How do you determine the amount of effort you put in?' Sadly, he couldn't get a response.

After putting her guitar away, the woman stood up. She was shorter than Juho had thought. She had looked quite tall from afar, but it might have been the stage.

"So, why do you sing?"

"There's nothing I really want to do, so yeah..."

She didn't have anything she wanted to do although she was looking for a job. After a brief moment thinking, she continued, "I think there's a message I want to pass on."

"Like what?

She thought for a good while.

"I'm not too sure. I might not want to do anything, but I still wanted to say something," the woman with a guitar said with a smile. "I'm sure I'll find it someday, whatever it is that I've been wanting to say."

"What about the lyrics?"

"I got a little shy in front of the audience."

'She seemed fine. What is she talking about?' he thought.

"You're too shy to sing your lyrics?"

"Yeah. I feel like they would know."

'What do you think they would know?' Juho had to swallow the question. To a woman who didn't even sing the lyrics because of her fear of being known, it would be rude to ask anything further. Instead, he decided to rephrase his words, "I have something I don't want people to know too."

"Don't we all?"

"I guess so."

Just like that, the conversation came to an end. Although there was nothing left to be said, the two didn't leave their spot. 'What else was there?'

Before Juho had a chance to ask her if she sang at the park every day, the woman quickly asked, "How was it?"

"How was what?"

"My song."

'Is she looking for a compliment?' he thought as he looked at her. Just like when she was on stage, there was no smile or annoyance on her face. She was bland. It made it hard for Juho to read her expressions, so he decided to answer honestly, "It was mostly 'lalalas,' so it's hard to say."

"I'm sure it was."

She was neither disappointed nor annoyed and she replied calmly as if she had expected it. Seeing that, he couldn't help but ask the question he had kept himself from asking earlier, "You said you want to send a message earlier. Are you afraid that others will know what you're thinking?"

"I must be. A heart is a pain in the ass."

Juho smiled at her use of strong language.

"When do you think they'll finally come out? Your lyrics."

"They'll come out some day. There is something I want to say."

'If she had figured out what she'd been wanting to say and found the courage to say it, would she be singing still?' he asked himself.

"Are you going to keep singing?"

"Of course. It's not like there's anything I want to do," she replied.

"Until when?"

"Probably till I die?"

She smiled as she answered his question. It was an ordinary smile. Even if a person didn't have anything they wanted to do or had the courage to speak up about it, they'd go on living. They'd lead an ordinary life.

With her ordinary smile, the woman finally left.

In a space where nothing moved, Juho kept thinking on his own.

'What is it that she wants to say? What are the words to her lyrics that she desperately wants to hide? Whatever it is, it'll probably resemble her. They're probably just ordinary lyrics.'

Chapter 35 - The Woman and Her Guitar; The End

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36 Chapter 36 - A Dream Gone By

***

Hey everyone,

SootyOwl and ShawnSuh here. We are loving the response you guys are having for the novel and for the work we are doing translating it. We come bearing some news that some of you might not like. As you know, The Great Storyteller is a Korean novel. Under Webnovel and Munpia's partnership to bring Korean novels to a greater audience, Munpia requested that their novels go premium after 40 chapters in order to protect their copyrights and for their authors' benefit.

We hope the you guys stick with us as we watch Juho's future change together, but we understand if you are unable to.

Thank you for your understanding.

***

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

"I have something I want to say."

The woman's words lingered in Juho's heart. A topic stemmed from a question. An author questioned every existence and its form. He had to acquaint himself with reaching a dead end. Writing wasn't the same as learning an equation or applying that equation as a means to find an answer.

He simply wrote. If he wanted to, he could write about a phenomenon that was far from what scientific theories or physics could explain. For that reason, he had decide what to write about first. Worrying came first, and questions rose. There was nothing he couldn't write about, but he had to make a decision. Juho replayed his encounter with the woman at the park. He remembered every said word. Things she wanted to say, wishes, desires, situations, conditions.

"Finally," he smiled with satisfaction. He leaned his head back and took a deep breath. It felt like he'd got a hold of a clue to a puzzle.

*

Nam Kyung came out of the office for dinner. The manuscript requests had made for an exhausting day. Making a phone call to an author had always been a nerve-racking task. Still, he was proud of his achievement of successfully setting up a meeting.

"Ugh, my shoulders," he stretched and groaned in pain. "I've been doing this way too long."

He thought back to the time of his first project. The memory was still vivid. However, it was not pleasant by any means. In fact, it had been the beginning of his obsession with misprints. He had found a misprint the moment he had opened the book. It had been in the part when the name of the protagonist was revealed for the first time. All of a sudden, the character had gone through a name change. Every character had a different name for the protagonist. Even the protagonist's parents, how odd.

'Why didn't I catch this before?' Nam Kyung thought. It had been an obvious mistake. He had read through the manuscript a number of times, yet, he had missed it. He hadn't caught it, and so had been in a world of trouble. To this day, his heart pounded when he thought back to the shame and despair he had felt back then. He shook his head.

'Everybody makes mistakes at first,' he comforted himself.

"Maybe not that kid."

Suddenly, he thought of an exception. It was an author who had been drawing massive attention from the masses. He went by the alias of Yun Woo. His real name, Juho Woo. Nam Kyung remembered his calm expression. There was something different about him. He didn't act his age. There was no awkwardness when he was talking to an adult. He didn't get intimidated. Normally, an author would be excited to know that his book was being made into a movie. Besides, they were in an age when kids were more used to moving images. Typically, an author Juho's age would be distracted by the fact that his own work was being portrayed by famous actors. The studio that had approached Nam Kyung about Juho's book was not a third-class, no name studio. They had already proven themselves in the industry with a number of major works. Yet, Juho turned that offer down at once, and even declared that he didn't want his book to be made into a movie.

"Mr. Uhm was the same way."

Nam Kyung had had a similar experience with Dong Gil Uhm. He hadn't been able to hide his astonishment as he listened to Dong Gil and Juho's conversation. Juho, a sixteen year old, had spoken with Dong Gil on an equal footing. He had even seemed relaxed.

He wasn't merely pretending to be an adult. That kid already possessed his own, distinct vibe. It was calm, yet it stood out ever so slightly. The adults in the scene had been completely captivated by it. On that day, Juho had been an author. "Is that what all geniuses look like?"

"It felt like it was out of reach of my understanding," Nam Kyung murmured as he stood up from his chair. After stepping out of his office, he headed toward a nearby restaurant. He was working overtime tonight and he had to head back to the office after dinner. He had to worry about the revisions he had fallen behind on, as well as his trip to Japan. He also had to send an email to a publishing company in the US about exporting copyrights. There was a lot to be done.

'Buzz.'

His phone rang, and he saw a familiar name on the screen, so he cleared his throat and answered it. On the other end of the call, was a woman. For a woman, her voice was quite deep.

"This is publishing copyright agent, Nabi Baek."

*

"The train is approaching."

A voice came from above. It was telling that a train was coming in. People in line hardly moved from their spots. Finally, the train arrived, and a wave of people walked out of it. Another wave of people filled the train. People were dressed for a season between spring and summer. Some wore thick jackets, while others wore flowing dresses.

Everyone headed towards the stairway simultaneously. People climbed the stairs in synchronized rhythm. Next to the stairway, was a long line of people waiting to be on the escalator. Juho sat on a bench where he could see everything happening in a straight line. Seo Kwang, Sun Hwa, and Bom were next to him. Baron was sitting on an inner bench. He was busy drawing something, his pencil moving about busily. With a piece of paper in their hands, the club members waited absentmindedly for Mr. Moon.

"It's Mr.Moon!" Sun Hwa shouted.

With a bag of delimanjoo in his hand, Mr. Moon walked down the stairway like he was swimming against the stream. Before he reached the students, the sweet smell of the snacks reached them first.

"Listen as you eat."

"Yes, Mr. Moon!" the members answered excitedly at the sight of food.

People were glancing in their direction, but they were all going on their own ways. Juho's eyes had met with a person who had just been in the train before it took off. He had given the person a slight nod, but the other person had ignored him and taken out his phone.

"Juho Woo, focus."

"Yes, Mr. Moon."

Mr. Moon had somehow caught Juho and drawn the attention back to himself. Juho listened to Mr. Moon as he chewed on a piece of delimanjoo.

"Where are we?"

"A subway station," Seo Kwang answered. It was not a difficult question.

"Crowded, right?"

"Yes, Mr. Moon."

Juho looked at the people who had just come out of the train, and the people who were waiting for an incoming train. Women, men, children, adults, elderly, pregnant women, etc. The children were looking around the area. It was a station Juho had been to frequently. Yet, when he looked around consciously, it somehow felt fresh. At the club members' response, Mr. Moon nodded with satisfaction.

"People here have different starting points and destinations."

Only the person who's on a journey knew where he was from and where he was going.

"Today, we're going to be writing in this environment. Don't just pass on a raw material because it's passing by. You shouldn't capture too much either. Maybe one or two, to be appropriate."

Juho stared at a man who was walking toward the station to wait for the train. He was wearing a stretched out T-shirt and a pair of sandals. He didn't seem to have a real job. Maybe. he didn't have a job at all. Among the raw materials passing by, as described by Mr. Moon, this man should definitely be included.

"One thing. Only write up to the beginning of an occurrence."

"Beginning?" Seo Kwang asked.

"Yes," Mr. Moon affirmed him and explained. "A beginning is, as self-explanatory as it is, a start. You have to make the reader anticipate something before you reveal the conflict."

He emphasized the word 'anticipate' as he spoke. A beginning, so to speak, was a stage before the plot unfolded. It was like throwing a small pebble into the calm water. A ripple created by the author revealed what happened. It might not be visible, but its existence was apparent.

"Don't think about reality too much today. Just make it happen. Boldness is the point. You're only writing up to the beginning, so you don't have to think about how the story ends. You just gotta make it happen."

"Boldness, huh."

"What comes to mind when you think of the word 'case?'"

"Murder."

"That sounds more aggressive than bold, but good answer. The beginning of a murder case is the murder. You get my point? Think about where these busy people are headed, or where you want them to head to," Mr. Moon added. "Make the most out of this environment. Think of ways to surprise these exhausted adults with your creativity. Now, start writing."

Juho looked at the people once again. A train had come in and poured out another wave of people. The expressions were all generally bland. There was weariness and fatigue behind the blank expressions.

'OK, think. What kind of bomb do I have to drop to change those faces?' he thought.

At that moment, he heard Sun Hwa's voice, "Maybe I need to drop a bomb or something."

It sounded like her.

"That doesn't sound bad."

"Yeah? Should I just go for it?" Sun hwa responded to Juho with a smile.

At that rate, she was actually going to set up a bomb.

After hearing that, Bom said, "I wish there were snow."

"Snow? In this weather?"

"That would definitely be a case."

Sun Hwa was surprised, and Juho accepted the idea. If she played her cards right, it had the potential for an interesting outcome.

"I feel like summer is approaching too fast. Do you think it's going to be weird?"

"Whatever you write, it's up to the author," At her timid question, Juho answered and shrugged.

If she wanted to write something, all she had to do was write. With his attitude in mind, Bom picked up her pen without hesitation.

Seo Kwang had been inspired by Mr. Moon and decided to write about a murder case. Creating a story was not one of his strengths. How would things turn out this time? The subway station was quite chaotic. It would be hard to concentrate in an environment like that. It was noisy. It was crowded. An overwhelming number of people kept pouring out of the trains onto the station. At the same time, the trains were taking too many people from the station elsewhere.

Juho thought of the woman with the guitar. She always sang songs without words and she had told him that she'd keep on singing. He didn't know her because he had never read her lyrics. Suddenly, he felt that it wouldn't be strange for her to be among that sea of people. She was a bland person. Even in the midst of an alien invasion, she might make them stop to listen to her songs. It was imaginable, and she had seemed like a difficult person to surprise.

Unfortunately, nobody was actually like that. Everyone was afraid of something. Everyone looked dumbfounded when they were faced with unexpected circumstances. Juho wanted to portray such faces, just up to the beginning of a case, and it had worked well in his recent encounter with the woman.

'What kind of case should I face her with? What would she be afraid of?' he thought.

The moment she became afraid of something, she became a different person. She'd no longer be the woman with the guitar.

Now, he had to think of a case. Another train arrived at the station. Another wave of people poured out of it ruthlessly. The environment was already suffocating by it being underground, and it became worse with each incoming wave of people. Even after the train took a large number of people from the station, the place was still crowded.

Juho buckled down, and he felt Mr. Moon's burning gaze. For the moment, he picked up his pen. That day, he had a good feeling.

Chapter 36 - A Dream Gone By; The End

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37 Chapter 37 - A Dream He’d Been Waiting For

***

Hey everyone,

SootyOwl and ShawnSuh here. We are loving the response you guys are having for the novel and for the work we are doing translating it. We come bearing some news that some of you might not like. As you know, The Great Storyteller is a Korean novel. Under Webnovel and Munpia's partnership to bring Korean novels to a greater audience, Munpia requested that their novels go premium after 40 chapters in order to protect their copyrights and for their authors' benefit.

We hope the you guys stick with us as we watch Juho's future change together, but we understand if you are unable to.

Thank you for your understanding.

***

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

Chapter 37 - A Dream He'd Been Waiting For

"Maybe I should include less people."

Staring at the subway station full of people was starting to get boring, so Juho revisited a recent memory. He had visited a zoo recently. It was a small zoo within a park. There had been a stubborn elephant that had refused to show its face to the crowd, and that image existed in the same space as the woman with the guitar.

'Yeah, an elephant sounds good,' he thought.

He tried mixing fear with the elephant in his mind. Words like subway, accident, and news passed through his thoughts.

"Crisis, terror."

'Terror. There were different types of terror in people's lives. The intensity of treatment varied depending on how much the person was being affected by their phobia. If a person who lived in a city had a phobia of deserts, treatment was not necessary unless they were planning on immigrating to the Middle East.'

"Maybe I should go with that."

Juho picked up his pen.

'Just like everyone, the woman had something she was afraid of. That was none other than elephants. Still, just as it was mentioned earlier, there was no major inconvenience. She had become a corporate worker, and corporate workers wouldn't typically be forced to be at a zoo. She loved music. As she listened to music like usual, she got on the subway car to work. The weather was pleasant, and she was in a good mood. Her work suited her personality. She had just passed her promotion exam and started dating. Her coworker was too slow to catch up to her and was nowhere near threatening to her career. It had been a succession of peaceful days, and she no longer thought about what she was afraid of.'

Then, Juho added a line, 'It's been five years since I stopped playing guitar, but I'm content.'

Everything she had achieved had been the result of her own effort. She considered herself strong. However, the essence of her phobia was waiting at the station - an elephant.

That was the beginning of a development, and Juho didn't write about how she would respond.

'Coming to think of it, there had been a time when an elephant had escaped from the zoo. That elephant had walked into a restaurant, and since then, that restaurant's been running under the name 'The Elephant House,'' he thought. There wasn't much substance in that thought.

'Well, at least I won't get an earful from Mr. Moon this time.'

*

The bell rang at the end of third period, and Juho headed to the science room. Mr. Moon was looking for him.

"Man, you're in trouble," Seo Kwang said frivolously.

'I thought I was going to be OK this time,' he thought with an awkward smile, standing up from his seat. Maybe he really was in trouble.

When he entered the science room at the end of the hallway, Mr. Moon greeted him with a serious face.

"Juho Woo."

"Yes, Mr. Moon."

As he came to realize that he'd never been alone in the science room with Mr. Moon, he noticed his tone.

Since Mr. Moon was sitting where Juho usually sat, he had to sit on Bom's seat, across from him. Because of the light coming in through the window, Mr. Moon was backlit, so he seemed like a shadow.

He finally opened his mouth and asked, "Did you get a girlfriend recently?"

"Nope," Juho answered at once. He had no time for relationships. There was barely enough time to write.

Mr. Moon continued as he pulled out Juho's paper and put it in front of him, "Then how do you explain this?"

On the paper, there was a story of a girl who received a confession from a man. She met her unfortunate demise after running into an alien in the mountains.

On the same paper, Juho had written down the three keywords the day before: Confession, Mount Jiri, and Computers. Those three words had been chosen randomly by Mr. Moon, and there were still remnants of that day on the desk, a ragged box filled with pieces of paper folded into smaller pieces. Again, thanks to his creative method of picking keywords, the words got trickier and trickier.

Juho's mood and tendencies were getting gradually worse. Perhaps it was because the keywords had no correlation to one another. By the way, the female protagonist had received a confession through her computer from a man who she had never met.

Mr. Moon accused in his shade, "You weren't this bad."

"I do believe aliens exist."

For that reason, he probably wouldn't be surprised to hear about a person who had died after an encounter with an alien.

Mr. Moon continued as he nodded, "So, is that what you wanted to communicate?"

"Not exactly."

"Then, what's this about?"

It was the second time he asked for an explanation, and Juho answered honestly, "I can't control myself."

"My, my."

There was no wavering in Mr. Moon's voice. It was as if he had been expecting an answer like that. Considering how long he'd been warning Juho to work on the ending of his stories, Mr. Moon's response made sense. He knew that Juho wasn't a rebel despite the lack of improvement.

The shadow moved. It seemed like Mr. Moon was reading through the paper again.

"You have a talent."

Juho didn't say anything, and Mr. Moon continued, "Do you want to be a novelist?"

Juho remembered the questions asked by countless reporters and journalists in the past. In midst of those questions, no one had asked him what Mr. Moon had just asked. He had already been a novelist then.

"I'm not sure."

As an author who had been hasty at one point in his life, Juho couldn't answer Mr. Moon's question.

As he slightly lowered his head, Mr. Moon started talking again, "I wanted to be a genius writer."

"Pardon?"

Juho hadn't expected that. Mr. Moon paid no attention to his confusion and continued, "It's kind of cool. You don't do anything, but you're flowing with ideas. You write those into a book, and everyone loves it. Then, you get to have a confident smile on your face."

"Kind of arrogant, isn't it?" Juho spoke his mind.

"Well, I wanted to be that arrogant bastard. I had talent too."

He seemed like he was reminiscing about the past as he acknowledged his own talent.

"Then, what made you become a teacher?"

"I needed to make money," he answered bluntly, without a moment of hesitation. It was very Mr. Moon-like.

Juho rephrased his question, "So, why couldn't you become a writer?"

Mr. Moon answered with a bitter smile, "Because I didn't have 'It.'"

'What didn't he have?'

"What's this 'it' you didn't have?"

"Leg strength."

That had been an unexpected answer, and Juho was confused. 'Did he have weak legs?' he wondered.

"A novelist is a special occupation."

"In what sense?"

"All you do is pick up your pen, but you still need endurance. Physical labor is at the core of making a living as a novelist."

It wasn't something he would say typically, yet he was very sure of it. 'Physical labor' was a word that was quite distant from a word like 'genius.'

"Is there a person you think of when you hear the word 'genius writer?'"

Countless names raced through Juho's mind, but none of them fit the description of being a genius. He knew how much struggle and anguish went into writing a single sentence.

"Nope."

Mr. Moon nodded.

"Yes, of course. There is no such a thing. What value does a god-given talent have before physical labor? I gave up because it was way too tiring."

Juho smiled. He was able to relate to Mr. Moon. Writing was not an easy task. An author fell into a pit of shame on multiple occasions throughout the day. He felt ashamed and embarrassed about his writing. Yet, he had to face it. He edited and revised constantly. He dug through the depth of his being and came to face all the junk that was at the bottom. Although the junk started to contaminate the well, he didn't stop.

This process spanned anywhere from months to a lifetime.

"It's like a marathon."

No matter how strong their lungs were, a runner was bound to grow tired. At some point, they would fall. In that moment, talent wasn't what kept them going. It was their leg strength that supported them. It helped them fight through the exhaustion. That strength came from the heart.

"Then, what'd be an appropriate name to call authors who have the leg strength?"

'Genius' alone wasn't big enough to embrace all of those authors, so Juho asked Mr. Moon. He had failed and walked away from the path he had been on. Yet, he was smiling. He had lived on. That wasn't the only path there was to life after all, and he had started running again on a different path.

Somethings were more visible from the distance. If anybody knew, Mr. Moon would know something about this. He would know what was at the end of the path he had left behind.

He answered with a genuine smile, "A great storyteller."

A gentle breeze rushed into the room. Juho took a deep breath and felt the breeze in his lungs.

"At the end of the day, there is no such thing as a genius writer. I was dreaming of something that never existed in this world."

"It's your freedom to dream."

A dream allowed one to embrace things that didn't exist in the world. That was why people dreamed carelessly and envied.

Juho reminisced about the past filled with anxiety. The word 'genius' had disappeared in a moment. It had hid itself like a candle in the wind. It was such a fragile word.

Soon, Mr. Moon was no longer in the shadow. His full figure had become visible again.

"What I'm trying to say is that the talent that you possess is not as useful as you think."

Juho sat quietly with a smile, and Mr. Moon asked again, "Do you want to be a novelist?"

Juho didn't answer immediately. He looked at his feet and then the ceiling. 'A novelist. The great storyteller.'

"Yes."

With a satisfied smile, Mr. Moon said, "If that's what your heart desires, then so be it"

At the familiar remark, Juho couldn't help but laugh out loud. Mr. Moon couldn't achieve his dreams. He had failed and walked away. In a person like that, Juho had found a dream that he'd been waiting for all along.

Things were different from how they used to be. He no longer wanted to be an ordinary writer. Though it sounded slightly childish and exaggerated, he wanted to be 'great,' the great storyteller.

"Then start with your endurance, at least to the level where you can write without huffing and puffing after sprinting for a few seconds."

"Yes, Mr. Moon."

Juho took Mr. Moon's advice to heart. As he thought of an exercise plan, Mr. Moon started talking while looking at Juho's paper, "Boy, kids nowadays are such good writers. Did you go to the same private institute as Yun Woo or something?"

"I've never gone to a private institute."

"Then, you're not Yun Woo himself or anything like that, right?"

Juho quietly laughed off his unexpected remark.

'That's not funny Mr.Moon.'

*

After meeting with Mr.Moon, he realized what he had been lacking in himself. It was endurance that could keep him on his feet when something or somebody tried to bring him down. It would allow him to move forward on his own. He needed endurance when he wrote.

The next day, he woke up at dawn and rubbed his heavy eyes as he got out of bed. After washing his face in the bathroom, he felt a little more awake.

When he went out to the living room, his mother was there. She must have woken up with the sound of running water.

"Why are you up so early?"

"I wanted to go out for a run."

"At this hour?"

"Yeah, I wanted to work on my endurance."

"OK, be careful."

His mother seemed somewhat surprised by his answer, but without saying much, she went back to bed. He put on his running shoes and went outside. He stretched as he looked up at the dark sky before the sunrise. In order to avoid muscle aches, he made sure not to make any quick or sudden movements.

Once he reached the park, he started running. There were no cars or bicycles. There weren't many obstacles, so it was safe for him to focus on running without paying too much attention to his surroundings. The park itself was quite big, and most of all, he liked that there were very many trees.

"Ready, set, go."

Chapter 37 - A Dream He'd Been Waiting For; The End

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38 Chapter 38 - Pollen in the Air 1

***

Hey everyone,

SootyOwl and ShawnSuh here. We are loving the response you guys are having for the novel and for the work we are doing translating it. We come bearing some news that some of you might not like. As you know, The Great Storyteller is a Korean novel. Under Webnovel and Munpia's partnership to bring Korean novels to a greater audience, Munpia requested that their novels go premium after 40 chapters in order to protect their copyrights and for their authors' benefit.

We hope the you guys stick with us as we watch Juho's future change together, but we understand if you are unable to.

Thank you for your understanding.

***

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

Chapter 38 - Pollen in the Air (1)

After signaling himself, Juho slowly picked up the pace. The park was quiet. The sound of his footsteps rang throughout. As he went further into the park, he smelled something similar to wet dirt.

Rather than setting a strict route, he chose to run around the park, turning accordingly whenever he reached an intersection.

From time to time, he saw the elderly sitting on wooden benches. 'Perhaps they came out to improve their endurance too,' Juho thought as he ran, gasping for breath.

"I'm so tired."

Still, he felt significantly better than he had in the past. His body had been pickled in alcohol then. Now, his body was filled with youth. It was a body much less likely to break.

He thought about what had been on the news the previous night. The number one cause of death for people in their teens, twenties and thirties was suicide. With their healthy bodies, the young had no choice but to take their own lives.

"Gosh, I'm dying."

His head was spinning as if he had inhaled too much oxygen, but he didn't stop. The distorted scenery slowly regained its shape. He was slowing down.

"Haha."

He let out some laughter in between the heavy breathing and felt the corners of his mouth turning up. It was fun. Despite the slower pace, he kept running. Suddenly, he thought of school.

'Will I be able to survive through the day?' he asked himself.

"Bah, whatever." He set the rest area in the distance as the finish line and kept on with every bit of strength he had left.

*

"What's with him?"

"I don't know," Seo Kwang responded as he looked at Juho sprawled on his desk like a wet towel.

Sun Hwa tapped him with her toes as if she were checking to see if he was dead.

"He looks really tired. Shouldn't we let him rest?" Bom said timidly, but Sun Hwa didn't stop.

Juho didn't feel like moving a muscle. Soon, he waved his hands in the air as he sat up. One side of his cheek was red from leaving his face against the desk.

"What?" he asked as he rubbed his cheek.

"I wanted to make sure you were alive."

"I'm alive and well, ma'am," he calmly declared his survival.

Now he understood what a dead battery probably felt like. After squeezing out every bit of energy, it closed its eyes with a sense of accomplishment. Though, he felt bad for the teachers. He'd been sleeping through his classes up to that point.

"What did you do last night? C'mon, sharing is caring."

"You want to come out and exercise with me?"

"What about that statement is sharing or caring?"

"Exercising is nice and caring."

"All I need is enough strength in my hands to pick up a book."

"Did you exercise this morning?" Bom asked.

"Yeah. I just ran around the park."

"You're so diligent."

"Nah, he'll probably last for another three days or so," Sun Hwa said after Bom.

'Three days. Considering his condition at the moment, she might be right.' He stretched his weary body.

"So, what brings you to our class?" he asked with a yawn.

"OK, but don't be shocked," Sun Hwa said.

After making eye contact with Bom, they pulled out pieces of paper from their backpacks. They were transcriptions. Because of the multitude of new trainings exercises as of late, transcribing had been labeled as an independent activity.

In other words, it was optional.

"Ta-da! We finished our transcriptions. Just wanted to show off."

They must have chosen to write more. Her proud expressions made him think back to his high school days. It was adorable. Seeing something to the end accompanied a definite sense of accomplishment.

To some, it might not be a big deal that they had transcribed an entire book. However, Juho genuinely celebrated with them.

Seo Kwang looked at the stack of paper with envy.

"I still have a long way to go. You guys are fast."

"This is nothing. Mr. Moon complimented us too. He gave us some candy."

Sun Hwa took out a strawberry flavored lollipop from her pocket.

"Oh… I don't like strawberry flavored things."

Seo Kwang's weak rebellion came to an end with Sun Hwa scoffing at him.

Juho thought as he rested his weary body on the desk, 'I should get back into transcribing.'

Though he had been making small progress, he struggled with consistency.

Nevertheless, his writing was potent. Every element was primitive. When one stared into it long enough, it almost felt like he was being eaten alive. Without warning, it plunged deep into the hearts of the readers and then left them in the dust.

"Well, I should finish it at least."

The two were smiling brightly, and Juho wanted to get a taste of that same joy.

However, he completely crashed as soon as he got home.

'I knew this wasn't going to be easy.'

*

He opened his eyes to the sound of his alarm the next morning and the morning after that. That day marked his third day. He had been on the verge of giving up on the second day, but he couldn't go back to being lazy after one day. Whatever it was, he wanted to commit to it for at least three days. After washing his face with cold water, he dragged his aching body outside.

"I'm here."

"Hey, I'm here."

Then, there was a guy waving his hand in front of the park. It was Sung Pil.

He had been showing a strong interest since Juho first brought up his morning exercise routine on the phone. He wanted to exercise with him, in the same place.

"Don't you live far from here? Aren't you tired?"

"It's not too far. I've been to this park a lot."

Juho couldn't stop him when Sung Pil himself was so insistent.

"Still, the park feels different in the morning."

Juho agreed. An object changed its appearance depending on the time.

As he stretched, Sung Pil asked, "Where's your finish line?"

"I'm not sure. How's the rest area in the center of the park sound? There's a vending machine there too."

Sung Pil nodded. He had understood Juho immediately. 'He really must come here often.'

"Do you exercise regularly?"

"Yeah, my dad loves soccer, so I've followed him to his morning soccer practices a few times."

His life was the opposite of Juho's. Juho had never been active. On the other hand, maybe Juho's lifestyle had enabled him to work consistently throughout his writing career.

"Be good to your dad."

"Huh? Oh, yeah, of course."

Despite the slight deviation, Juho finished stretching. He waited for Sun Pil to finish warming up as his body moved up and down. After watching him, Juho asked, "Should we start?"

"Sounds good."

Then, Sung Pil stood next to Juho.

"Ready, set," Sung Pil said.

At his signal, Juho positioned himself. Sung Pil had a strong presence, and it felt refreshing to be running with another person.

Juho heard him breathing in. It was the moment before the start.

"Go!"

The two simultaneously moved forward. Juho ran twice as fast as his usual pace. After running shoulder to shoulder with Sung Pil, he hesitated. At that rate, he'd completely burn out before reaching the finish line. He slowed his pace down. When that happened, the figure next to him also flinched. Sung Pil looked back. He was looking at Juho like he was taking all the fun out of the race.

"You comin'?"

Juho answered calmly, "I have my own pace."

"I'm goin' ahead if you don't catch up."

It was a childish taunt, but Juho answered him with a nod and a chuckle, "Be my guest."

At that, Sung Pil thought for a brief moment and shouted, "Ha!"

He let out a strange shout every time he took a step. The elderly who were sitting on the benches slowly turned their heads in Sung Pil's direction. They didn't seem startled by him. The branches were shaking. 'Well, ain't that something.'

"How about you bring your voice down just a tiny bit?"

"You're here!"

"Yes, I'm here, captain obvious," Juho calmly answered. "I told you, I have my own pace."

"Well, this is my pace," Sung Pil shouted with excitement. "Alright! Let's race!"

"Seriously, can't you talk quieter?"

The two raced one another. Juho was running much faster than usual, but although he was running faster, he didn't feel like giving up. That time, Juho ran ahead of Sung Pil.

'Since I'm running fast, I might as well run as fast as I can,' he thought.

"Haa!" Sung Pil followed with a roar.

Juho put a bit more strength into his legs. Though the hill wasn't very steep, it was incredibly exhausting to run through. He was much more tired and running much faster than when he would run alone. It was also slightly more fun.

He should've been slowing down by then, but he was still running. He didn't even think about that news report, which was evidence that he was focusing on the present.

"I can see the top!" Sung Pil shouted.

Before Juho realized, he had already caught up to him.

'I'm not blind, you know,' Juho wanted to answer him, but his lungs had already reached their limits. Sung Pil was also breathing heavily. Their bodies were sending signals for the lack of oxygen.

"I'm dying."

That moment, Juho's eyes met with Sung Pil's. At once, he picked up his pace, and Sung Pil did the same.

They saw the white line at the entrance to the rest area in the distance. It was the finish line. By the time Juho thought that he was less than five steps away, his body had already passed the white line. As he crossed it, Sung Pil crossed next to him.

After the race, the two threw themselves onto a wooden bench to catch their breath. They might as well kiss the rest of the day goodbye.

'I'm sorry Mr. Moon,' Juho silently asked for forgiveness. Sung Pil was already lying on his back on the bench. Everytime he breathed, his chest moved up and down.

Juho giggled at the sight.

"At least no one's going to think that you're dead."

"Isn't that obvious since I'm not dead?"

"Well, I guess so."

"I'm so thirsty… the vending machine is too far away."

"Seriously."

Their eyes met again, and they raised their hands at the same time.

"Rock, paper, scissors!"

"Dang it!"

Sung Pil squirmed from the shock of defeat while Juho sat comfortably on the bench and enjoyed his victory.

"What are you doing here still? I'm parched."

"Grr."

After lingering around for some time, Sung Pil got up from the bench and staggered his way toward the vending machine. Juho saw him looking through his pockets to look for change, but for some reason, he returned empty-handed. He didn't seem too thrilled.

"What's the matter?"

"I forgot my wallet."

"Sigh."

In the end, Juho had to pay for the drinks.

'OK, you came from far away,' he justified himself. With gratitude, Sung Pil drank his water,

"Oh, yeah! Much better."

"Drink slowly. You'll choke."

He was really enjoying his water, and Juho too quenched his thirst. A sip of cold water after exercising was as sweet as honey. Careful not to drink too fast, he slowly gulped away at his water.

"Have you been working on anything lately?" Sung Pil asked.

Juho answered after taking another sip of water. He thought of his recent work that had had an animal from the zoo as the protagonist, "Elephant."

"An elephant?"

"And alien."

"An alien??"

That moment, there was a thunderous sound. It almost sounded like it had come from an elephant. Juho turned to Sung Pil to look at him. He rubbed his stomach and murmured shamelessly, "I'm kind of gettin' hungry."

In the end, they even had breakfast together before parting ways.

*

Nabi Baek was on edge. Perhaps excitement was a better way to describe her state. That year marked her tenth year in the industry. She was definitely not a rookie, and it had been a while since she had been that nervous.

Nabi was an agent. Her job was to manage a number of authors in the country and to import or export copyrights. Though her work consisted mostly of importing copyrights, she had always had the ambition of making Korean books known throughout the world.

Now, she was about to meet Yun Woo.

Juho was a one-of-a-kind author. There was no one like him in the history of Korean Literature. Not only was he the youngest person to debut as an author, but his debut work was drawing massive amounts of attention. On top of that, he had remained anonymous because he was still a student.

"Do I finally get to meet this elusive author today?"

Chapter 38 - Pollen in the Air (1); The End

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39 Chapter 39 - Pollen in the Air 2

***

Hey everyone,

SootyOwl and ShawnSuh here. We are loving the response you guys are having for the novel and for the work we are doing translating it. We come bearing some news that some of you might not like. As you know, The Great Storyteller is a Korean novel. Under Webnovel and Munpia's partnership to bring Korean novels to a greater audience, Munpia requested that their novels go premium after 40 chapters in order to protect their copyrights and for their authors' benefit.

We hope the you guys stick with us as we watch Juho's future change together, but we understand if you are unable to.

Thank you for your understanding.

***

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

Chapter 39 - Pollen in the Air (2)

When Nabi read 'The Trace of a Bird' for the first time, she had already been arranging the introduction of the book. The book struck a fine balance between two contrasting subjects, growth and darkness. Along with its literary achievement, it appealed to the mass. Unfortunately, Korea was simply too small of a country for such a book. In order for the book to reach even more hearts, she felt that it needed to be distributed across the world.

Once she made up her mind, she immediately called Nam Kyung, who worked as an editor at Zelkova Publishing Company. She had worked with him in the past on several occasions. He was a skilled editor. He was quick and easy to communicate with. While waiting for him, she picked up a cup from the table to quench her thirst.

She set up a plan to meet with Nam Kyung at an Italian restaurant, where she arrived about twenty minutes earlier than the time they had agreed on. She checked the time. 'Any minute now.'

"Seventeen years old, huh."

She had never worked with an author that age.

'He's probably not used to such a professional environment, so I should be able to use that to my advantage,' she thought. She wanted to be Yun Woo's agent.

*

It was his first time at the restaurant. The neat interior gave off a clean impression. As he went into the reserved room with Nam Kyung, Juho asked, "Nabi Baek, right?"

"Yeah, do you have any questions?"

"Oh, no. Just wondering."

Nabi Baek was a familiar name. It was also a name he hadn't heard in a while. She had been the agent behind exporting 'The Trace of a Bird' to seven different countries. Other than that, she was good at what she did, but he didn't remember much of her. They had communicated almost entirely through email. Even that didn't last very long as Juho's career didn't survive past his debut title. It had been a bitter past. It was painful to think about the relationships that had been lost because of his limitations.

'I hope this lasts this time,' he thought as he kept himself from sighing.

"What's she like?"

Nam Kyung answered after a brief moment thinking, "She's good at what she does. She's also working with famous international authors. She's the type who likes to see things to the end once she sets her mind on something."

'Greedy.' When Juho heard Nam Kyung's description of her, he was able to think of her image immediately. If that greed worked to his advantage, then there was nothing to worry about. For an author to have someone eyeing for his work was something to be grateful for. He concentrated on thinking about what she looked like. When they had reached the door to the room, Nam Kyung said, "Well, see her for yourself."

He answered as he raised his head, "I'm looking forward to this."

'He really doesn't act his age,' Nam Kyung thought to himself.

The door opened. There was a table, some patterned wallpaper, and a beautiful woman inside. She was Nabi Baek. Dressed in professional attire, she gave off an intelligent impression. The fog was lifting. As if a black and white screen changed to color, her figure became vivid. 'It's been a while.'

"Hello. Nabi Baek, from Imperst Agency."

Imperst was one of the four major copyright agencies in the nation. It was a large-scale company, and it usually worked with big-name authors. Nabi's eyes sparkled as she saw an author, and Juho definitely felt that she was observing him. Maybe she was simply fascinated by him. Now, her attention was on his face. He then remembered that she didn't judge an author by his looks.

"Juho Woo. I'd like to be called by my real name."

"Sure thing, Mr. Woo."

He didn't stop her from addressing him with formality. In an occasion like that, he was aware that his age could work to his disadvantage. After a brief exchange of greetings, they ordered their meal. They each ordered pasta. The food looked incredibly delicate and appetizing, and it really felt like they were in a classy restaurant.

"You're quite handsome."

Juho looked at his food subconsciously because of her sudden compliment.

She continued as she emphasized, "It'd be a waste to keep yourself hidden."

"I guess you're not entirely wrong," Juho answered with a touch of humor. Nabi seemed entertained.

"I've been curious this entire time. I was deeply moved by your work."

"Thank you," he answered briefly. He felt her observing his responses.

"As I expected, you really are a genius."

If it were in the past, those words would've lifted up his spirit, but he couldn't keep himself from laughing. She misinterpreted his reaction and took the initiative to share her experience with his book, and he listened carefully.

"I appreciated how pure the story was. You did an incredible job describing fear in such a clear way."

That wasn't all.

"The subject of death has always been a popular choice among authors. Everyone wants to know more about death after all. Many writers have been inspired by it, but sadly, it's no longer fresh. Frankly, I've been tired of it for a while," she added.

Death, terror, anger. As deep and dark as these emotions were, they tended to leave a strong impression. When a drop of black ink got onto a white sheet of paper, all eyes would focus on it. In there, there was power and charm. However, without care and purpose, that dot was quickly reduced to a mere stain. The slightest movement would spread the ink throughout the paper and ruin it. It disrupted the white and became an obstruction to the eyes. Nabi looked at that boy in front of her and felt Yun Woo had drawn a perfect circle. It had been pure and controlled. She didn't spare any compliments. A child tended to be easily moved by an adult's compliments. However, Nabi's compliments were not merely empty words. She was meeting Yun Woo because she genuinely felt that his work was outstanding.

"Every character looks at the central subject of the book, the bird, from their own perspective. It's colorful, but balanced at the same time. In my opinion, your book has the power to move the hearts of those across the sea, regardless of country or ethnicity. A bird flies throughout the word after all," she said confidently.

'I'm certain that this book will do well overseas,' she thought as she awaited Juho's response.

However, his response was lukewarm, "Is that so?"

She was taken aback on the inside. He was much too calm for his age.

'Is he not interested?' To be certain of her observation, she continued, "I'm blown away by the fact that you were able to write such a book at your age."

"Sure."

She patiently waited for his answer. There was silence. After a brief thought, Juho started speaking again, "I think you've slightly overestimated my book."

She kept her lips shut. Nam Kyung gently shook his head as he watched.

'Is that really the response of a high school student?' he thought to himself as he was taken aback by Juho's attitude.

Nabi was getting flustered. She thought about what she had said so far, 'I've been pouring out compliments. Even an adult would have been at least somewhat excited.'

She was planning on getting him excited, but something was wrong. His response was way too dry. On top of that, he thought she was overestimating his book. It was completely unexpected.

'Maybe he's the shy type? No, his expression is too flat. It can't be that he's hiding his emotions either. Who is this kid?' she thought.

"They really know their pasta here," Juho said calmly as he brought the pasta to his mouth.

There was no other other sound in the room aside from Juho chewing and clattering his utensils. Nam Kyung chimed in to break the silence. If it lasted any longer, things would have been uncomfortable, "Hm, so how's work been for you lately? I've been hearing that Mr. Ahn's book is doing well in the American market."

"Ah, yes! He's been so cooperative to us, so it's been a breeze to work with him. He's so direct. It's almost scary!"

"Is he still insisting on wearing his sweatpants everywhere?"

"Yes. Aside from the first meeting, he immediately showed his true personality. Thanks to him, I don't have to dress up when we meet."

Thanks to Nam Kyung's peaceful conversation with Nabi, the tension eased in the room. Juho chimed in their conversation, "Mr. Ahn? As in Seo Joong Ahn?"

Nabi answered quickly, "Yes. He's very popular. He's one of the authors I work with."

Juho had taken an interest in their conversation about Seo Joong Ahn. Seo Joong was a friend and fellow author of Dong Gil Uhm, who Juho had recently met. Unlike Dong Gil, Seo Joong hadn't put out a single book in the last several years. Juho remembered Seo Kwang's recent lamentations.

Meanwhile, Nabi continued her story about Seo Joong, "I wasn't too surprised to hear from a publishing company in the US. I was that confident about his book. If anything, I didn't hear from them soon enough."

"Your confidence is admirable."

Her confidence really did shine. Juho had never met Seo Joong before, but he imagined that he must have seen the same confidence in her.

"The source of my confidence is in the author and his book."

Her ambition worked to the author's benefit, and Juho smiled faintly. He preferred her attitude at the moment over her compliments.

"Mr. Woo, I want to introduce your work to a bigger publishing market," Nabi got straight to the point.

It was the very purpose of that meeting. Yun Woo's book, 'The Trace of a Bird,' was to be distributed throughout the world. Juho saw the confidence in her expression as their eyes met. He had been thinking all along, 'I want to work with her again.'

"Of course," he answered.

At that, Nabi smiled brightly.

"Pleasure to be doing business with you."

"The pleasure's mine."

From then on, the three talked casually over their meal. After the main course, the dishes were taken away and replaced with a dessert made with fruit. While she looked at the plates, she started talking with a serious expression, "So, let me briefly explain the US import market. By default, the US is on the stingier side when it comes to importing books from overseas. Imports make up about 3 percent of the entire market. Meanwhile, the percentage literature makes up is even smaller. It barely reaches 1 percent. We have to fight our way into that market through that gap."

Literature in midst of international books, and literature among Korean Literature. In the middle of that, Yun Woo. It was quite a narrow door.

"It doesn't sound like it's going to be easy."

"Yes. As you said, it's not going to be, but it doesn't mean it's impossible. Look at Mr. Ahn for example. We've already experienced success."

"Can you tell me more about the process? How was Mr. Ahn's book able to make it into the American market?"

Using her personal experience, she explained the plans and process of entering into the international market in detail. Juho nodded and agreed with her from time to time. He listened to her intently.

"We'll have our most trusted translator working on your draft. Translation is one of the most important aspects when it comes to exporting a book."

"I see. Glad to be working with you."

Nabi smiled inwardly from the smooth conversation and quenched her thirst with a sip of water.

Chapter 39 - Pollen in the Air (2); The End

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40 Chapter 40 - Pollen in the Air 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

Chapter 40 - Pollen in the Air (3)

The chat regarding work was slowly coming to an end. The three rose from their seats and stood in front of the elevator that brought them to the restaurant. Nam Kyung and Juho waited for the elevator.

At that moment, Nabi said in passing, "Then, I'll be waiting for the documents from your company, Nam Kyung. I'll give you a call as soon as I get them."

"Sounds good."

"Like I said, introducing a book overseas requires a lot of time and effort. It's a completely different process from domestic distribution."

"Of course."

"So, working with us exclusively is necessary to a certain extent."

Juho looked at her, and she smiled.

"It sounds complicated, but think of it as a way to work more efficiently. You should be able to find the details in the documents I gave you earlier."

Juho thought back to the past. There had been no deceit in her explanations. She wasn't trying to trick him, and Nam Kyung also listened to her quietly.

'Still, there's no way around the sense of burden that comes from the word 'exclusive,'' Juho thought. 'What would happen if the agency did something wrong? What if it went bankrupt overnight? What if they treated their authors like tools? What if they didn't treat him with proper respect? What if he didn't find out until it was too late? Of course, those were extreme scenarios that weren't likely to happen, but it was proper to take everything into account when signing a contract. The other party was asking for an exclusive partnership as an insurance because they were also under similar assumptions.'

It was about his own work. It was going to be made into a book that would end up in the readers' hands. That was what the contract was about. There was a weight to the matter that he hadn't been aware of in the past. He had to be cautious. In the past, he had done exactly as Nabi said, and there had been no loss. Yet, he'd never gotten to have a lengthier conversation with her. He hadn't discussed it in too much detail. He wanted to take a slightly different approach, so Juho looked at her briefly and said, "I'm not sure about that."

Nabi asked quickly, "What are you not sure about?"

"Oh, I don't mean that I can't trust you. It's just that I prefer to be cautious. I'll take some time to think about this more on my own."

Nam Kyung didn't say anything about Juho's decision. The choice was solely up to the author. An editor or agent was essential to exporting a book, but more than anything else, what really mattered was the author's viewpoint. Nam Kyung didn't want to be an editor who interfered with his author's decision making process, no matter the age of the author. Besides, he had been realizing that Juho was a person who shouldn't be judged by his age. He looked at Nabi and thought, 'She probably knows by now.'

Her lips tightened, but she soon regained her composure.

"... Of course. I understand. That's unfortunate."

Despite her words, she didn't seem like she was giving up.

*

It was his first vacation in a long time. Juho went to the park to see the woman with the guitar perform. She didn't perform on a set schedule, so he had to rely on luck to catch her concert. Yet, neither Juho nor the woman demanded each other's time. It must have been that their encounter had always been spontaneous by nature. After all, it wasn't like they had agreed to meet on a certain day.

"La, la, lalala."

There were still no lyrics. She was just an ordinary person who was too shy to speak her mind.

"La, la, la, lala."

From her voice to her playing, she was average. Her clumsy playing was a plus. Still, Juho wandered about the park just in hopes of hearing her singing.

He gently moved his body to the rhythm as he cheered for her. The woman glanced at his direction, but that was it. She didn't even wave her hand or smile. 'Yep, that's like her, as shy as ever,' he thought.

---

"Hello, Mr. Woo."

At that moment, a "nabi" (butterfly in Korean) flew towards him.

"Hi, you're here."

"Yes, I am. I've never had a meeting in a place like this."

She looked around. They were at the inner part of the park, so it wasn't all that crowded. Even the people who were there were mostly elderly. A woman was singing among them.

"I could've gone to you."

"Oh no, I should be coming to you."

Not too long after the meal, Juho received a call from her. As she gave him an update on the current progress, she asked, 'When are you available?' out of the blue as they were figuring out a meeting place.

"Anytime you want," Juho answered. As a student, he didn't have that many places he went to frequently. Then, he added, "How about a park? There's a cafe, a restaurant, a zoo and a botanical garden. I think it's a good place for a meeting."

Nabi willingly accepted his suggestion.

"Well, this is a first."

Juho felt anxious whenever a pattern from the past repeated itself. He felt like he would be walking the same path, repeating every mistake he had made. To him, it was possibly even more scary than death. He wasn't afraid of failure. He simply wanted to be different from his old self.

He didn't understand how he had been able to come back to the past. It was a miracle and impossible to understand. However, there were countless unseen things in the world. Many things existed without an explanation or without being discovered. For that reason, people had the privilege of imagination.

Because of that, he had to do whatever he could with everything he got. The moment he let his guard down, he could spiral down the same destiny.

"When we're outside, I'll call you Juho."

At her voice, he snapped out of it and nodded.

"Please, be comfortable."

"Oh no, you're still my client," she explained that she addresses all of her authors with respect.

"Is that like a rule?"

"It's nothing fancy like that. I'm just expressing my respect. I'm fond of their occupation."

Her expression softened as she said the word 'fond.' She almost looked like she was in love.

"I believe you."

"Yes. I love books too, but what I really love is the occupation of an author. That's how I got into this field. I had enough respect for them to base my career around it."

Normally, it was appropriate for the superior to address his worker with respect. It was a basic code when individuals met. Yet, that basic code was often overlooked.

"Do you talk to other people who are younger than you like that?"

"Of course. It's basic courtesy, regardless of age."

It was especially apparent when dealing with students. Most of the time, they had no experience in business because they hadn't gone out into the world yet. People usually didn't address students with respect. Whenever an adult called for a student with a school uniform, it was always in a casual manner. The students were used to that culture themselves. No student would take offense to an adult for not addressing him the way they address their fellow adults.

'Even if I weren't an author, she'd probably treat me the same way,' he thought. There was a brief silence. At that moment, the woman with the guitar started singing again, and Nabi commented, "Her songs are unique."

"I agree. There are no titles or lyrics, but I enjoy them."

The songs were sloppy and mostly humming, but they weren't offensive. That was because there was nothing artificial about them. There was a type of writing that was similar. The sentences were awkward, and the content was crude, but the heart wavered like the ocean. It was the purity that drew Juho and the elderly in the park near. In that small space, she sang with all of her heart.

"She must be wanting to say something," he said.

"Huh?"

"The reason you enjoy her songs so much?"

"Oh, right…"

Nabi wouldn't be able to understand. She knew nothing about Juho's situation although both Juho and the woman with the guitar had something in common. They both wanted to send a message. Juho stood up from his place, and waved at the woman with the guitar before leaving her behind. Their eyes met for a brief moment, but she didn't stop singing. He saw a glimpse of her professional mind.

"I think this spot should do."

Juho and Nabi went into a small cafe in the park. They each ordered a drink. There were no other customers, so there were plenty of seats. The two sat on the innermost seat. There were parents and children walking by from time to time. They all seemed to be in a good mood, and Nabi started the conversation after taking a sip of her drink.

"The reason why I wanted us to meet today was because I wanted to hear more about your book."

She wanted to know more about Juho as a person. An agent wasn't only responsible for books but also its authors. They had to know about their authors to some extent. 'What kind of person is Yun Woo?' she became curious. As she talked with an author about his book, she naturally learned more about the them.

She continued, "There isn't a whole lot of information about you out there, so I'm quite curious."

"If you put it that way, I'm not sure what to say frankly. Did you have a question?"

"I have tons. May I?"

Juho nodded with a smile.

"It's about 'The Trace of a Bird.'"

As soon as he gave her the permission, she asked the questions that had been burning in her heart as a reader.

"In the book, the characters are almost always out and about in the dark. Burying a dead bird, a visit from the older brother… Yun himself kind of has an inner darkness. I wanted to know why you had set everything to take place at night."

"At night."

"Yes."

She asked about the setting of the book. Juho thought briefly, but it hadn't been an intentional choice. He had decided to write 'The Trace of a Bird' because he had thought of an ending for the story. It had almost shimmered before his eyes. For that reason, he had written his way toward that vision. In other words, the inspiration behind the night setting came from him impulsively wanting to isolate the protagonist. He wasn't the type to write out an outline for the plot of his book. There was always something unexpected in the process. Even if an author planned his entire process from A to Z, something always turned out differently in the end.

'Coming to think of it, maybe there was another reason for choosing the setting to be at night,' he thought to himself.

"Honestly, it was mostly an impulsive decision."

"Impulsive?"

"Yes, it just came out."

"Then what did you like about that impulsive idea?'

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41 Chapter 41 - Pollen in the Air 4

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

As expected, Nabi was sharp. Night. Darkness. The reason why Juho painted everything with darkness in the story was because he liked it. It must have had something in common with what he wanted to say.

"Just… being born and alive felt really different to me at that moment."

She listened to him with a serious expression.

"I've been mostly alone at school. I'm not very social. Because of that, I had all the time in the world to write."

It had been true. Thanks to his nonexistent social life, he had been able to finish a full-length novel.

As Juho answered her with a smile, Nabi spoke about her past, "I was alone in my old jobs as well. Adults have the same tendency to ostracize people. I even heard somebody talking about me in the restroom. It was painful. I'm a people pleaser, but it's really greed at the core of it. You can't please everyone. Somebody in this world is definitely hating me even to this moment."

Nobody wanted to be hated, and she probably knew how weary it felt.

"Still, I caught myself being greedy again. I guess I haven't learned my lesson."

Despite her feelings, she still considered how others felt. She hoped that the other person would consider her feelings in return. She kept trying as if she had never been hated. Maybe that was possible because she was aware that it was impossible to please everyone. It also meant that somebody in that world was fond of her. Juho and Nabi heard children laughing in the distance.

"I didn't have a dream. I didn't have a purpose either. I had all the time in the world, yet I did nothing," he said.

This pattern had remained consistent as he had gotten older. When he had been accused of ghostwriting, he had left the literary world. He had been all alone. He had drunk and gambled everyday. He had gotten used winning and, soon after, losing everything he had earned. He had known that the people around him had been tricking him. He had known that he had been nothing more than a bag of money to them. Still, he hadn't been able to stop on his own. He had been angry about fact that there were many things in his own heart and body that were out of his control. He had drunk angrily. It had been a vicious cycle. 'Whenever I think about that time, I smell a corpse,' Juho thought. Although the time kept ticking, he had remained still. It had been a state closest to death. A person who was alive couldn't smell like corpse. Yet, his body had reeked with the stench of death.

"So none of the characters at night are actually alive. They're less alive than a baby in his mother's womb. They're immature."

"..."

Even as a young student in the past, he had known he had been dying. It had been dark, and it had been night. A morning that would never come. Back then, that's what he had been looking at. Having listened to Juho, Nabi said quietly, "I see. Will you excuse me for a moment?"

Then, she headed to the restroom. In the meantime, Juho took a sip of his drink.

"Whoa, boy… This is insane! It's freakin' amazing!" she murmured while leaning on the sink. If only she had permission to shout for joy, 'Everyone, look! I'm talking to Yun Woo! He's the youngest and the sexiest author I've met! Come see for yourselves!'

She had to put her hand over her mouth to force her excitement down. Her body was shaking.

"This is why I can't quit."

There were countless interpretations to a single book. It wouldn't be an overstatement to say that there were as many as the number of readers. None of them gave an objective answer. Each critic was different. Even the words of an expert had no value if the readers didn't accept them. If somebody had been captivated by a book, it would be natural for them to be interested in the person who had created it. Among the countless people in that world, people who were in love spoke in a distinct language. That was the same for an author. Nabi decided to revisit 'The Trace of a Bird' with the author's own interpretation.

"OK. Breathe in, breathe out. Calm down."

She fanned at her flushed face. The maturity coming out of Juho's mouth was unbelievable. It was dreamlike. 'Maturity dressed in baby skin. You're lethal, Mr. Woo,' she thought.

"I'm so geeking out on this."

Since she was young, she had always been fond of writers. They looked stylish to her eyes. Her emotions had reached its peak as she went into middle school. Yook Sa Lee, Dong Joo Yoon, Tae Joon Park, Tae Won Lee, Sang Lee, So Wol Kim, Yoo Jung Kim, etc. Her heart raced whenever she thought about their lives and works. Of course, she didn't share that side of herself with anyone. She had only been active in a blog, under an alias.

"Man, I really made it as a geek. I'm so happy!"

She quickly fixed her makeup and made a resolution in her heart, "I'm getting that exclusive partnership, no matter what."

---

"Sigh."

Despite the resolution, she had failed. Yun Woo was stronger than she thought.

"How many times did he…"

She tried to think of how many times Yun Woo had declined her offer, but quickly gave up. She felt like she'd feel discouraged if she revisited each and every time he had said no to her.

"So, are you still pushing and pulling with Yun Woo?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

A coworker asked while giggling obliviously, "Is he that difficult? He's not even that old."

"Age is not the issue here."

"I was jealous that you got to meet him, but now I'm glad that I don't have to go through what you're going through."

"You little… I'm going to have you work with Coin if you don't shut up."

She brought up the names of American authors who were infamous for their temper, and her coworker immediately backed down.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm going home now. Clean up after yourself."

"Yes cap'n. You're going on a business trip tomorrow right? Have a safe trip!"

"Thanks."

When she arrived home, she prepared for her business trip. She dragged her weary body into the shower. After it, she took out her luggage. There hadn't been as much progress with Yun Woo as she would have liked, but she hadn't given up just yet. She had been incredibly busy as of late. The fact that she had heard from an agent she was close with was proof of that. He was an American named Molley, and she was thinking about what he had said.

"I've heard the news about this sixteen-year old debuting as an author. Frankly, I'm still on the fence. It takes time for an author to really bloom. However, you seem to be certain of this, so I'll trust you for now. We'll discuss more in detail in person."

There had been anticipation and doubt in his message. It was understandable. An author in his mid-forties was considered to be young in the world of literature. In that field, debuting at the age of sixteen had to carry some significance. Yet, she was not concerned. Both the author and his work were outstanding. Even Molley, who was much more experienced as an agent, would understand the moment he read the book.

She was already able to picture the meeting in her head. Molley would be drawn by Yun Woo's charm. Other publishing companies from other parts of the world would see what their agents had brought back and race for an idea. 'It won't be long until offers from overseas start flooding in,' she thought. It was ecstatic just to think about it, but she wasn't going to let that stay in her imagination.

"I'm doing it. I'm doing this."

She lay on her bed. She wanted to fight for the exclusive partnership even more. To an agent, an exclusive partnership was like a blinker to a horse, allowing it to keep looking forward. Sometimes, it took years of investment. A lot of things had to be spent. Spreading an author's book was not an easy task by any means. In order to make it through that long and strenuous journey, an exclusive partnership was essential. She had to believe the fact that she would be rewarded for the amount of effort she would have put in. It wasn't wise to keep working while bearing the loss. There had to be an insurance, and she wasn't going to let anything get in her way.

That book had been written by Yun Woo, and she was certain of its international success. She wanted to take that project on at all cost and she believed she had what it took. After a brief thought, she reached for her cell phone above her head. A series of signal sounds soon turned into a voice, the same voice she had just heard earlier today.

"Hello?"

"Hi, how you doin' Mr. Woo? This is Nabi Baek."

Juho answered with his distinct tone of voice, "What are you calling about?"

"Do you have some time tomorrow? There's something I need to tell you before I leave for a business trip."

"I do have time."

One of the perks of being a student was that he had relatively more time than others who were older. She wanted to have another talk with him before her trip. Her schedule was about to get tighter, and she wouldn't be able to meet with him in person as often. After deciding on a time and a place, she hung up the phone. It was time for a final negotiation.

"I'm really doing this," she resolved in her heart once again.

---

After finishing up the call, Juho looked at his work in progress in vain.

"I had a good feeling about this."

The paper had gone cold since the call. He put down his pen and stretched. He felt pain in his tense shoulders. She was probably not going to beat around the bush tomorrow. 'She's a tenacious one,' he thought with a faint smile.

---

"I believe it's here."

He made his way to the place where he and Nabi had decided to meet. The situation was changing. He reminisced to the actual first encounter with her when he had been actually sixteen.

Back then, he hadn't known anything about copyrights. Of course, Nam Kyung had given him an explanation, but he must have thought that the adult would take care of it. Although it had been his business, he had had a hands-off attitude. He had already been as full of himself as he could have possibly been. Failure had not even crossed his mind. The book had actually been doing well. He had had no clue of what kind of change that was going to bring.

'This could be worse than before. Maybe I don't even get to be homeless this time,' he thought as he tried to calm himself. It was still much better than leading the same life he had in the past. He was living through a miracle. When he arrived at the cafe in the park, Nabi was already waiting, and she waved at him.

"You're early."

He was also early, but she had been even earlier. She seemed to believe that it was not professional to keep her client waiting. The two agreed on walking around the park, each with a warm cup of coffee.

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42 Chapter 42 - Pollen in the Air 5

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

The weather was perfect for a walk. Juho and Nabi walked past the playground and into a trail. There was plenty of sunlight, and they walked without saying anything for a while. The sound of children playing rose in the distance. They sounded excited. 'What are they so excited about?' Juho wondered. They almost sounded like they couldn't hold back the joy they were feeling. He looked in their direction and felt ever so slightly jealous.

"The breeze feels nice," Nabi said.

She was in a good mood. It had been a while since she had gone out for a walk. When she was with this young author, it almost felt like the time went by slower than normal. She assumed that it had something to do with the unique, calming aura that surrounded him.

"It's especially nice today."

The two kept up an empty conversation while walking. Neither tried to rush things. Nabi was the same way. The center of a typhoon tended to be quiet. As they reached the end of the trail, the botanical garden appeared up ahead.

"Should we?"

"Sure," she agreed to his suggestion at once. 'If my client wants to go, that's where I'll be,' she reminded herself.

As they went inside, they were greeted by an earthy smell that was distinct to botanical gardens. The air was damp as if the plants were breathing. Among various tall growing trees, there were bird sculptures in between the branches. Palm trees and banana trees were showing off their enormous leaves.

'Blob,' drop by drop, water dripped down from above.

'It's calm and peaceful here. It suits him,' she thought. They walked together quietly. Soon, they reached a spot that seemed like a decorated pond. There were large carps swimming in the water. They walked past the pond and reached a flowerbed. Red, orange, white, there were many colors, and the two stopped walking for a moment.

"They're pretty," he said. She had thought the same, but she ended up not saying it.

She was more than capable of speaking her mind. It was easy, yet challenging. So, she answered with a faint smile, "Yes, they are."

Where there were flowers, there were also bees. They flew around the flowers busily and took turns sitting on each flower to suck on the honey. They looked cute with their plump belly.

"I'm going on a business trip soon. I fly out tonight."

"I see," he answered briefly since he had already heard the news.

She continued as she flexed her abdomen. His eyes slowly met with hers, "I'll tell the people I'm meeting about you."

"About me?!"

"That an incredibly talented author has appeared, so whoever's capable needs to tell the world about Yun Woo's book."

"I'm not sure if they'll agree," he answered light-heartedly, but she was serious.

"They will. I'll make them."

"Why is that?"

It was a basic question, but she had never been asked such a question before. 'Why?' It was simple, yet it reached deep into her heart. Still, she was prepared to answer that simple question. She had always been thinking about it. There was a clear reason.

"Because I'm your fan."

Juho chuckled.

"I see."

"There are times when I can't tell if what I'm doing is work or a hobby. It happens when a book is amazing. Your book is like that. My work hasn't been feeling like work as of late. I'm intending on keeping it that way this time as well," she added to his response. She was slightly excited. She'd never had a conversation like that with an author. Her mind responded as if somebody was forcing it to, but it wasn't a bad feeling.

He glanced over at her. It had been quite a compliment and, perhaps, slightly overbearing. It had sounded like there had been a word in the middle somewhere that was kind of odd, but he didn't mind. That wasn't what was important.

She continued, "I'm going to be working very hard for this. I want to distribute your book all across the world."

She had great pride in her work. She loved that her job allowed the books to reach the many.

A butterfly flew out of a yellow flower. It was a butterfly with white wings. As it sat on a flower, its petals shook a little bit. The butterfly busily moved its wings towards another flower. Nabi looked at Juho. He was peacefully following the butterfly with his eyes, and she couldn't figure out what he was thinking. Even after so many conversations, she still couldn't get a grasp of who he was. For that reason, she had given up. Instead, she had decided to be honest about herself.

"It's almost time."

She closed her eyes as she checked the time on her wristwatch. She had given up. She didn't want to force things to happen. If things didn't work out, profit would no longer be a priority. She didn't want to ruin the moment. She had found satisfaction in the fact that she had simply gotten to have a conversation with Yun Woo.

There was a gentle breeze. It wasn't clear where it was coming from. Through it, she heard the sound of Juho's voice, "I would like for you to manage my books exclusively."

He felt her staring in his direction.

"Pardon?" she asked.

Juho answered with a smile, "I would like to leave my book to you."

She didn't say anything for a moment. Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened. Her face flushed, and her eyes shook. She had countless things that she wanted to say at that moment, but she swallowed them all and answered, "It'd be my pleasure, Mr. Woo."

---

"Ugh… my whole body's aching."

She stretched as she walked out of the plane. Long flights were always exhausting. Yet, she still had a smile on her face. Whenever she thought about what Yun Woo had said, she felt invigorated all over again. 'That composure, he knew his push and pull too. He was going to grow up to be a heartbreaker.'

After getting into a taxi, she covered her face and twisted her body. She would never forget the conversation with Yun Woo by the flowerbed. The moment she had decided to put everything down, there was his voice.

"This is some crazy stuff."

She looked forward to his growth. She genuinely hoped for him to grow up to be an outstanding writer. She was even willing to invest a third of her paycheck into him. 'I'll buy every single one of his books.' Her hands shook, and she smiled from ear to ear. She couldn't help herself. She felt satisfaction from just thinking about that day with Yun Woo. 'He is a great author. It is rewarding to work with him.' It was his book that she had the privilege of working with, and she had to work as hard as she could for the best possible results. She took a deep breath.

"Breathe in, breathe out. Calm down."

She cleared her throat when the driver gave her an odd look. 'Calm down.'

"Whew. Finally here."

She arrived at her hotel and unpacked her bag. It was almost time to meet with Molley. For the time being, she applied a pack onto her face. 'Hope the makeup comes out OK,' she thought as she mentally prepared herself for the meeting. She had already bought a new perfume. To portray intelligence, she tied her hair in a ponytail and applied a nude lipstick onto her lips. The woman in the mirror was plenty beautiful, and she was satisfied with how she looked.

"I look good today!"

After applying her perfume as a final touch, she headed for the nearby cafe. She had been there with Molley from time to time to converse with him over tea. This time time was no different. As she opened the door to the cafe, she was immediately greeted by the smell of roasted coffee beans. She walked past the black barista and went further into the cafe. Though the cafe was packed, one person stuck out in particular, a gentleman with white hair.

"Molley."

"Ah! It's been a while since I've seen you!"

Taking his eyes off the book he was reading, Molley raised his chin at the sound of Nabi's voice. They happily greeted each other. After ordering coffee, they took some time to catch up with one another.

"You know about Coin's new book, right?"

"Of course. She has an incredible fan base in Korea. I've already prepared an offer."

She drank her coffee.

"Speaking of which, she debuted pretty early too, didn't she?"

She was looking for the right timing to slip something in regarding Yun Woo.

"She wasn't received well at first."

She was well acquainted with Kelley Coin's debut. She had debuted at an early age, but her book had not been well received. It had been harshly criticized in every possible way. When Nabi thought about it, the book hadn't actually been that bad. The jealousy towards Coin had been oddly strong at the time. Yet, she didn't wait to write her next book. Nabi tried to shake off the thoughts on Coin. She shook her head sideways and changed the subject. She had to focus from then on.

"Yun Woo is different. 'The Trace of a Bird' is genuinely charming. It's controlled. This author speaks in a friendly manner, but there's a strong tone behind his words. The more you think about his age, the more shocked you will be."

"Controlled… It's hard to imagine."

"Right?"

She gave him a synopsis of the book and shared the clues that she had gotten out of her conversations with Juho.

"I've had many conversations with him," she spoke the truth. Bluffs or exaggerations wouldn't work with the veteran agent. "I was shocked. It was hard to imagine his age from his attitude. We were able to communicate, and he had a deep understanding of literature. You'll know when you get a chance to read his book, but more than anything, his book is pure and childlike. Yet, the author himself might as well have been an adult. That's how calm he was."

"You're not usually this excited. I'm interested," he answered as he brought his coffee to his mouth.

He was creating a buffer as the conversation picked up the pace. Yet, his eyes were sharp. 'He's definitely interested in Yun Woo,' she thought. That was an opportunity.

She continued with a slightly sad face, "Honestly, I initially wanted to have an upperhand in our interaction. I underestimated him because of his age. I wanted to talk him into working with me."

"That's a common mistake agents make. So how'd it go?"

"By the time I came to my senses, I was being dragged around by him. He turned down my offer at once. He was still willing to have a conversation though. While I was waiting for an opening, he kept himself shut, but by the time I was about to give up, he wanted to work with me. Because of that, I'm on fire at the moment."

"Huh!"

He sounded astonished. She had to keep on.

"I don't think he'll stop at just one book. I came to learn that he has a serious attitude towards literature."

She kept her eyes fixed on Molley as they spoke, and he listened to her carefully until the end.

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43 Chapter 43 - The First Meal in Three Days

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

"I see what you're trying to do. I won't judge him by his age," Molley answered calmly as he brought his coffee to his mouth once again. By now, he was getting a grasp of that author's character and was slowly realizing that there was nothing ordinary about this "Yun Woo" Nabi had been talking about.

From his perspective, Nabi didn't talk about her clients in too much detail. It was one of her strategies because higher expectations could also lead to greater disappointments. This time, it was different. She was full of confidence. No matter how high the expectation was, she was certain that he was not going to be disappointed. She hadn't been like that when she was working with Seo Joong Ahn not too long ago.

"OK. I'm interested in taking a look. Do you have a sample for me?" he said as he savored the nutty fragrance of coffee.

"Yes, of course."

The materials she had prepared went over to Molley's hands.

*

"Here's a loaf of bread," Mr. Moon said as he placed a loaf of bread onto the desk with it still wrapped. All eyes were on the bread. It was a muffin.

"Turn this bread into gold."

His mission didn't make a lot of sense, so Sun Hwa asked, "What do you mean by 'turn it into gold?'"

The members looked at each other.

"Are you telling us to plate it with gold?"

"Well, that's not too bad. Juho Woo, give us an example," Mr. Moon spoke ambiguously.

Then he looked at Juho, who had was resting his chin on his hand. Juho stopped himself from smirking at being called out all of a sudden. 'He's so certain that I'll have something,' he thought.

"What is it? Did you get it?" Sun Hwa asked.

Juho did understand the instructions. Though he was planning on keeping his mouth shut, he was forced to speak by suddenly becoming the center of attention.

"A loaf of bread after starving for three days."

"Aha!"

Everyone understood with that one sentence alone. Just the thought alone was enough to understand how precious the bread must have been. Before a person who had been starving for three days, a loaf of bread would be much more precious than gold. They probably wouldn't trade it for gold.

"I see. That's what he meant," Seo Kwang murmured.

All together, the club members understood the entirety of that day's lesson from Juho's example. Once they understood, it actually sounded sounded fun, and everyone willingly started discussing their ideas with one another.

"OK, let's do this."

They brainstormed as they sat around the bread. That loaf of bread had to be made precious, so everyone thought as hard as they could while looking piercingly at its smooth, golden brown surface.

"What if everyone was sharing a loaf?" Bom said.

"It probably makes the bread more valuable than it is when only one person's eating it."

"Wouldn't it still be less valuable than gold?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

She smiled awkwardly as she scratched her head. Juho's example was stuck in their minds. They couldn't think of something different.

Seo Kwang spoke up next, "What about having a loaf to yourself without having anyone else knowing?"

"Eh, that's a little ambiguous." Sun Hwa tilted her head, 'Wouldn't he feel guilty for tricking others?' she thought. The word betrayal was as far as it could be from the word gold.

Seo Kwang argued, "Why? There's a saying that food tastes best when you're eating in secret. You don't know if someone chose to eat that loaf of bread in secret even with a piece of gold in front of you."

"Maybe he's right."

"Who would do that?"

"This guy."

"You're funny."

"I think I'd feel guilty too. Gold would be better."

Seo Kwang clicked his tongue at Bom's answer as he quarreled with Sun Hwa.

"Well, I think it depends on how you set the situation. Try to be more specific. For example, being surrounded by the people you'd hate to be around," Juho said.

"I actually wouldn't feel all that guilty."

"What if everyone's stranded and on the verge of starving to death?"

"It wouldn't be weird to choose bread over gold."

Sun Hwa, Seo Kwang, and Baron answered Juho in order. Baron was drawing something on his sketchbook as he spoke nonchalantly. Bom clapped timidly, and Sun Hwa placed her hand on her temple. She seemed upset.

"Why couldn't I think of that?"

"Isn't it because you're not as quick as Juho?"

She retaliated with her hand at Seo Kwang mocking her. As he looked at the two close friends, Juho said, "Let's not compare ourselves to others and make ourselves feel small."

"That tranquility. I hate how politically correct he can be."

"Haha!" Juho laughed it off.

Sun Hwa glared at him as he laughed peacefully, and Bom said timidly, "Then the bread in another person's hand must look more valuable. There's a saying that the grass always looks greener on the other side."

Clap, clap, clap.

Mr. Moon clapped at Bom's words. He seemed proud of her. Their discussion was going much better than he had anticipated.

"Then, let's try the opposite this time. Make it worthless. Less than dirt."

The members got together excitedly, and Seo Kwang said, "Let it sit for a few days. It'll go bad, and nobody will be able to eat it."

It was simple, but it wasn't wrong either.

"You might as well throw it on the ground," Sun Hwa seemed unsatisfied with his answer.

Juho gave another example, "How about a leftover loaf?"

When a person had already had too much to eat, the smell of bread alone would be enough to make them nauseated. They'd probably want to go out and walk around more than anything.

"What's wrong with leftovers? It tastes fine once you microwave it."

"Besides, how do you not finish your bread?"

"Have you heard of the five-second rule?"

Seo Kwang and Sun Hwa presented their arguments simultaneously. Being the only person who agreed with Juho, Bom looked around timidly. Of course, they had stomachs of steel at that age.

By the time everyone had enough opinions, Mr. Moon changed the subject of the discussion. He showed them a picture of a steep cliff. Its irregular surface gave off a dangerous feeling.

"That cliff looks pathetic compared to the real thing," Seo Kwang said mischievously. It was true. A picture of a cliff didn't hold a candle to the actual cliff.

"Then, a clay wall made by a child has gotta be the same way."

"Sure, but wouldn't it be different for the parents?"

"I guess so. They'd probably give anything for their child."

"They might give the child away for a gold!"

"I know my mom wouldn't!"

They moved onto the next phase, and Seo Kwang said, "What about a cliff made of gold?"

"That's not bad."

"Is that the best you got?" Sun Hwa gave her opinion right after.

Once the club members had a grasp of the activity, they raised and lowered the value of the subject. They had thought of a situation where a group of people simultaneously wanted the same thing. This time, Mr. Moon took out his cell phone. After tapping on its screen a few times, a sound came from his phone: Snore, pff, snore, pff, it was the rhythm of a person snoring.

"Who's that?"

"I can't tell you since it's my personal life."

The members quickly resumed their discussion with their eyes, 'Could it be him? No, it can't be. Maybe a roommate? Maybe it's just sound effect.'

They came up with all sorts of speculation. Juho too was dying to know, but out of respect for his teacher, he decided not to dig too deep. He did admire Mr. Moon's passion for the club and ignored the suspicious looks the club members' eyes had as if on a mission.

"Make it more valuable than gold."

Making a snoring sound more valuable than gold was not an easy task. Juho rested his chin on his hand and let everyone else speak first.

"What if the recorder was made of gold?"

"Are you serious?"

"This is creative too."

'What if that snore came from somebody who couldn't afford to be shown with their guard down? If it was the snore of a person who had a lot to lose from their personal life being exposed, they'd be bound to have enemies. Especially so if they had to appear dignified on a regular basis. If the person who recorded it were to sell what they had captured, they could probably ask for quite a bit - like a piece of gold,' Juho thought as he listened to the two quarreling.

At that moment, Sun Hwa made a suggestion, "How about this? What if we have people competing for who can snore the loudest for a gold prize? So-called: "The Snoring Contest." The person in the recording would be the winner of the contest. Wouldn't it be worth the gold?"

"Well, there are million dollar legs. I'm sure there's a snore that's worth a piece of gold somewhere in this world."

"If this contest took place at night, I'd hate to be anywhere around it."

"Next door as well," Juho added to Seo Kwang' remark.

At least a family could wake him up. For a nextdoor neighbor, it would be a much more complicated situation.

"A snoring father," Bom said timidly. She actually understood the mission now.

"Wouldn't a father snoring after a long, hard day at work be as precious as gold?"

"I miss my dad all of a sudden."

Seo Kwang and Sun Hwa said simultaneously. Juho thought of his father going to bed early after coming late from work. He snored quite loud at times, but he wanted his dad to be healthy more than anything else, even if that meant he would snore for the rest of his life.

"I've heard snoring is a sign of bad health," Sun Hwa said. Her sensitivity simply didn't last.

The students came up with a few more ideas for their discussion. As he sat still listening to them, Mr. Moon suddenly stood from his seat when it was time they start wrapping up. All eyes were focused on him, and he opened a shelf and took something out.

"Is that for us?" Sun Hwa asked.

"Uh… That's not…" Juho said out of reflex. He recognized what it was at once. In the past, he had seen the label on the bottle countless times.

"This is alcohol."

Mr. Moon had brought alcohol to school, and Seo Kwang said, "This is going to get you fired."

"It's for educational purposes."

"Still! The school will call the parents!"

"Not if I don't get caught," he answered briefly.

It definitely wouldn't be good to be seen with alcohol at school. He had hid the bottle in a shelf because he was aware of that fact. Schools and alcohol didn't blend well. Juho stared into the shelf where the bottle was in. As familiar of the sight of it was, it was quite entertaining. Everyone was excited.

"But why did you bring this? Are we going to drink it?"

"I said it's for educational purposes."

There was a blunt sound as he opened the bottle, and everyone exclaimed in astonishment. Juho squinched his eyes and looked at the bottle in Mr. Moon's hand.

"Now, make this cheap."

"I want to smell it!" Seo Kwang raised his hand.

He added an excuse as Mr. Moon looked at him. To allow for a more realistic imagination for the club members, he handed the bottle over to Seo Kwang without hesitation. Like a dog, he put his nose over it. No one said anything, but they all waited for their turns.

"It does smell like alcohol!"

Since coming up to high school, Seo Kwang had had experience with alcohol. His parents would let him take a few sips sometimes. However, seeing alcohol in school was an exciting experience. He passed the bottle to Sun Hwa as she rushed him impatiently.

"It smells like alcohol," she said.

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44 Chapter 44 - Something I Saw

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

Bom and Baron soon joined in on getting a whiff of the bottle. Lastly, it was Juho's turn. He looked at the bottle in his hand. Unlike the bottle he had been used to, it was clear.

It smelled familiar.

"It smells like alcohol."

It was the same smell he had reeked with at one point. He revisited how he felt then. He couldn't stop once he had started drinking. Whatever he needed to do would be ruined by his alcoholism. When he woke up the next day, he had been overcome with guilt. His memory slowly faded away, and he began to find broken things around him.

"Ugh… I hate this," Sun Hwa said as she shook her head.

She was right. Juho hated it too. He felt that same helplessness from the past at the end of his fingertips. He tried clenching his fist, and it seemed to work fine. His body was functioning well even without alcohol. It was a young body.

'I should take good care of it,' he thought.

"It smells like something an upperclassmen would force you to drink," Bom said.

"Ah… that's not something I'm looking forward to in college," Sun Hwa answered vividly. Whenever she thought about her college life, it always ended up in worry. It was a time when people often died from alcohol poisoning.

"I've heard some people are allergic to alcohol. I figure they'd hate to even be around it, let alone smell them," Seo Kwang said.

Everyone spoke with excitement. A bottle of alcohol brought about an odd sense of excitement to people underage. While watching, Mr. Moon snickered as he saw the excitement on everyone's faces. It was apparent that they were excited to have something foreign in their hands. They wouldn't be able to experience it anywhere else.

"When would it become fragrant?" Juho asked as he thought, 'What could possibly be changed by this stench of alcohol? Hm…' He couldn't reach an answer.

"I think it might not smell as bad after you drink with somebody you enjoy being around," Bom said.

"We should all drink together when we grow up!" Sun Hwa added.

"Yeah! Let's eat fried chicken too!" Seo Kwang told them the location of the fried chicken shop.

"Aren't you all too young for this?" Baron scolded, but he wasn't saying that he wouldn't be there either.

'Does the fragrance become better as the company gets better?' Juho reminisced. He had never drunk out of joy. Perhaps that's why he had reeked.

"Although, I'm sure all alcohol smells pretty much the same," he said.

The students jeered at Juho's murmur. It was a sign that he was being a killjoy.

"Aren't you going to come? You don't want to drink with us when you're older?"

He took a deep breath. He smelled happiness. Drinking with those friends as adults didn't sound half bad.

"I'll be there," Juho answered with a smile.

---

"There's dust here too. Where's the person on duty?"

"Do you not see me down here?"

"Oh, I thought you were stretching."

"Who stretches with a broomstick in his hand?"

Cleaning duty was appointed by rotation. Juho poked fun at Seo Kwang. He was bored. There wasn't much else to do aside from poking fun at Seo Kwang. After staring out the window for a while, he packed his bag and said, "I'll be in the science room."

"OK."

Nothing was going to change even if he was in the science room, but he figured it'd be better than inhaling dust in the class.

While he was heading toward the stairway, he saw Mr. Moon coming down. Since he couldn't see Juho in the distance, he went straight into the staffroom. Juho didn't really feel the need to call out his name, so he too headed straight to the science room.

When he went inside, the window was open. Mr. Moon must have kept it open for ventilation. He walked past the desk and stood in front of the window. He had just come from a dusty place, so even the slightest breeze felt all the more refreshing.

There was the sound of kids playing in the schoolyard. They were shouting something. Most of them sounded playful and mischievous.

As he leaned against the window, his eyes naturally went to the top of the desk. He saw his paper and notebook. 'Did Seo Kwang really read my notebook at a time like this?' he thought. Mr. Moon wasn't very careful when it came to where he kept his notebooks. It could've even been taken by other students. Well, the only ones who would intentionally walk into the science room would have been the Literature Club members.

He looked out the door. Nobody had arrived yet, and there was no sound of footstep.

If there was something written where he was, then there was only one thing left to do.

He sat down and picked up the very top page. Their papers were kept in a translucent file, and the page on the top was written by Sun Hwa.

'She's impatient.' That was Juho's impression after reading her composition. The steps toward the climax were mostly left out. Tension had been at its peak since the beginning of the development. It was more like a field day than the anticipation for it. No push. Just pulling. One would describe her progression to be "wild." At once, he understood what Mr. Moon had pointed out in her writing.

"It is pretty entertaining."

Her best work was the paper she wrote at the subway station. It started with this sentence: 'A bomb exploded in the subway station.'

There was no mention of how it was installed or any suspicious activities. No mention of people peacefully going about their days either. Just like that, she had made the bomb go off. As long as the progression was under control, the story still had the potential to be exciting even with an abrupt intro like that.

Unfortunately, such a control was beyond what Sun Hwa was capable of. A bomb had exploded, but the culprit got caught immediately, and then he let out his pent up anger. It sounded more like she was wrapping up the story than she was setting up a beginning. Juho appreciated its experimental nature, but it wasn't appropriate considering the lesson was about "writing up to the beginning." It did get better as it went on, but if the story stayed at a climax throughout, it would be the same as a story without tension or resolution, only moving forward.

It seemed like Sun Hwa was in desperate need of patience. If she learned how to write in steps, she'd be a much better writer. If the fourth floor was the floor above the first, one would be ripped in half trying to get there. At least he'd be able to enjoy the view if he could make it up to the top.

"This one's written by Bom."

Like Sun Hwa's, it was in a translucent file. The notebook was the same as Sun Hwa's. The entire club knew that they were close friends.

"Huh, this is pretty good."

It was quite decent. The pace wasn't too fast or slow. However, her story wasn't what caught his attention. Her biggest strength was her detailed style in her description of the people walking on the streets.

"People were walking as if they're walking through the mud. As if they would be buried if they were to stand still. They keep their feet moving."

She had embodied feelings into the act of walking. People were struggling and urgent in their steps. They seemed like they couldn't stop walking from fear of something. It might have been subtle, but it had a large impact. There were times when a single sentence was capable of contributing to the entire book.

There were definitely flaws in places, but she'd learn to work with them in no time. It would be another strength of hers. Her composition was quite artistic. He was easily able to picture her as a writer in the future. In midst of being impressed, he suddenly felt curious.

'Who won an award for the essay contest?' he asked himself. Sun Hwa had won the award. Judging from the writing itself, it wouldn't have been weird if Bom had won. 'Had she been nervous?' Being Bom, it would've been likely.

"Hm."

For some reason, something was telling him that Sun Hwa hadn't won because Bom had been nervous. At that moment, he heard footsteps approaching from the hallway.

"Man, I'm so tired. Why's our teacher making us do all of the work? We have a director for that."

"It's because you're too good at it," Bom said.

The door opened.

"Oh! Hey, Juho."

"Hey, you're late."

"Our teacher made us run some errands."

Juho was sitting against the window. The notebooks and the papers were back in their places on the desk. Without suspecting, the two sat on their seats. The wind blew into the room. Unlike earlier, this time it felt lukewarm.

"Why are you just standing there? Don't block the window. Come sit."

"Don't mind if I do."

He casually exchanged words with them. Sun Hwa took out her comic book while Bom took out her snacks. Already, Juho started observing them in a different light than from a moment before.

---

"What would you do if the world came to an end tomorrow?" Mr. Moon asked. It was a common question.

"I want to plant an apple tree," Sun Hwa answered.

For many Koreans, apple trees were among the first things that came to mind when thinking about the end of the world. Baruch Spinoza had quite an impact even to this day.

"It doesn't take that long to plant a tree. What are you going to do afterwards?" Mr. Moon asked.

"I'm not sure."

"That's right," he nodded at Seo Kwang's murmur. "Today, we're going to take some time to plan for the day this world comes to an end."

"Huh?"

"Wouldn't it make today the most depressing day knowing the world as we know it would come to an end tomorrow? Would you be able to think of how you were going to spend your time?"

"I do kind of feel helpless."

Seo Kwang thought of a dystopian movie he had seen recently. Everyone had lost their minds with the incoming apocalypse. 'In that situation, would anyone be able to carry out the plan they'd come up with previously?'

"Even if we come up with a plan now, would we be able to carry it out then?"

"Who said anything about carrying it out? I don't expect you to."

"Well, if you came up with a plan, you gotta carry it out, right?"

Mr. Moon asked after Sun Hwa's exemplary response, "Do you think the day before the end of the world will come in your time?"

"... It's always possible."

Sun Hwa hadn't really meant what she said either. She scrunched her forehead, and Juho snickered. Everyone had the same thought, 'Then, what's the point of planning?'

"This plan is for the present," Mr. Moon said calmly.

"The present?"

"Yes. Even if the world is coming to an end, you gotta survive the present. You should plan while you're still around, right? What you want to do, and who you want to do that with."

A plan for the present. 'If the world is coming to an end tomorrow, what would I do? What would I want to do on the very last day?' Nobody knew when that day would come. That was what death was like.

Juho thought about what he had to do that day if he were to die the next day.

Mr. Moon suggested a more detailed situation, "You see it in the morning news. It's telling you not to go to school."

"That's actually kind of nice."

Everyone nodded in agreement at Seo Kwang's response. Among them, Mr. Moon was also included. It was exciting to think about not having to come to school.

"It sure is. Imagine the anchor says these words with a shaky voice: 'Tomorrow, this planet, our home full of life, will be coming to an end. Just now, it was made official by the most influential, powerful, and global organization. The government is yet to make a statement, and people are in chaos. Dear viewers, today marks the last day of the Earth.'"

The last day on Earth, while that day was bound to come, it almost felt like it was right around the corner.

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45 Chapter 45 - A Flower Yet to Bloom 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

As soon as Mr. Moon finished talking, the students picked up their pens and drew a big circle on their paper, ignoring the squares of the graph-like paper. At that moment, the circle was empty.

"What time are you planning on planting the apple tree?" as if unable to think of a time, Seo Kwang asked Sun Hwa.

She gave him a genuine, serious response, "I want to plant it right after I see the news. I should do something to calm myself down, like planting a tree."

"Maybe I should read. Whose book do I read? Are there going to be more classics by then? Yeah, probably..."

Seo Kwang had made an obvious choice. He looked like he was looking more to the new books in the future rather than the apocalypse itself.

"What about you, Baron? Juho asked.

He too was drawing a neat circle on his sketchbook. He was truly an artist.

"I'll probably live just like any other day."

"Is that so?"

Just like any other day, it didn't sound like a bad idea.

"Well, I did think about running around the neighborhood butt naked."

"Whoa!"

'That was bold of him. Heck, it's the last day on Earth. What couldn't they do?' Seo Kwang enthusiastically agreed with Baron, "I'm sure a single lap around the neighborhood would be acceptable. If you're near my place, I'll treat you with some beverage."

"I'll remember that if I get thirsty. Do you keep a tab though? I think I'd look odd carrying a wallet when I'm naked."

'If you're arguing about something being weird, that was already over the moment you said "naked,'' Juho thought.

"It'll be free of charge, of course."

"Great! I'll be there."

Seo Kwang drew a line across the center of his circle and added, "Treat Baron to a beverage." He had already set a time, midday, without even getting Baron's opinion.

"What are you planning on doing?" he asked as Juho looked at his planning chart.

"Hm. I'm probably going to be writing, presumably," he murmured nonchalantly. 'I wonder what would come out in the face of death," he thought to himself.

"OK. You go ahead and write. If you finish, you have to come show it to me. You have to! Promise."

"What's wrong with you, man? You're making me uncomfortable."

His words were like those of a predator that was pouncing on a prey, so Juho turned around from Seo Kwang's uncomfortable enthusiasm. He paid no attention to Juho and kept on blabbering things like, "I have to read your work before I die. I'm more curious about what you'd write than any other author." His words were quite overbearing.

"OK, OK."

Juho gave up trying to be serious. He couldn't ignore such a passionate reader, so he decided to keep things simple. 'Eat. Take a walk. Write about the last day.'

"Seriously, what's with all the fuss? You need to see someone for that addiction of yours."

"If my love for print is a sickness, I refuse to treat it for the rest of my life."

Sun Hwa was also organizing her chart to find time for her comics. In Juho's eyes, there was hardly a difference between the two.

"Do you want to read comics together?" Bom asked Sun Hwa as she watched her working on her chart.

"Sure. You should come over. We'll plant a tree together."

"We'll probably get hungry afterwards, so I'll bring us lunch."

They almost sounded like they were going on a picnic. 'How innocent,' Juho thought with a smile. 'A picnic on the last day… That doesn't sound too bad.'

"Our chart looks exactly the same."

"Huh?"

Their charts looked identical from the layout to their bedtimes to when they'd wake up in the morning. Whenever Sun Hwa wrote something down, Bom did the same on her chart.

'Am I being too sensitive?' Juho thought for a moment. 'It could be that I didn't approach the subject of the apocalypse very seriously. They're making plans to hang out and going over to each other's house, like it's a joke. It's nothing out of the blue, but still…'

"What are you guys planning on doing together for the rest of the day?"

"Huh?"

"Bom, is there anything you want to do?" he asked with his usual tone of voice.

After a brief thought, she answered with an awkward smile, "I'm not too sure."

"Is that right?"

"Yeah. Maybe it's because it doesn't feel real to me." Then, Bom changed the subject somewhat forcefully, "How about you Juho? What are you going to do?"

She turned her eyes to his paper.

For some time, there had been something that had bothered Juho. He had been noticing a sense of incompatibility in Sun Hwa and Bom's friendship and had become curious.

The past memories rushed through his head.

The essay contest. the sprint race, Bom didn't get ahead of Sun Hwa. It was especially apparent when she was presenting her results during writing lessons. He had seen their identical notebooks and the similar self-introductions that were written inside them.

He thought of the time when the club members had been to the school library together. That was when he noticed something strange. Before choosing her book, Bom had asked Sun Hwa, "What do think it'd be a better choice between these two books?"

Now, he was certain. Bom was dependent on Sun Hwa.

"OK, it's time to make a choice," Mr. Moon said to the students as they munched on chips.

"What are we choosing?" they asked each other with their mouths full.

"An essay contest hosted outside of school," he explained briefly.

Juho looked at pieces of paper next to the chalkboard. They were filled with information Mr. Moon had been collecting so far. Newspaper companies, publishing companies, universities, cultural foundations, literature associations… There were countless places hosting a contest.

"There's also a competition for special recognition, so choose carefully. It's up to you to decide which contest you want to be part of."

Winning an award at a special recognition competition was a huge boost to college applications. As the name of the contest suggested, it meant that the winner was going to be recognized for his special skill in literature. It was a competition many wanted to win desperately.

"Can we not be part of one?" Seo Kwang asked light-heartedly.

The others, who were walking toward the board to get a better look at the papers, stopped and looked at him.

Mr. Moon nodded, "Your choice. No one's going to give you a hard time."

He met his eyes with everyone else in the room.

"Same goes for everyone else here. Decide for yourselves. Being a teacher is overrated. You can't live another person's life on their behalf. If you have something you don't want to do, all you have to do is say it, like Baron."

Baron shrugged with the sketchbook in his hand.

"So, if there's something you want to do, go for it, even if you have the slightest of desires. I may not look or sound like one, but I am a teacher. I wouldn't put you all in harm's way."

Juho looked at the papers hanging on the wall. They were from a high school amateur competition. He hesitated. 'Can I be part of that? What if people find out who I am? Wouldn't I get in people's way? Maybe I shouldn't compete.'

"I did want to take part in a competition once," amid the chaos in his head, those words jumped out of his mouth before he could do anything about it.

Mr. Moon answered, "Then choose. Come find me when you've made a decision."

With those parting words, he walked out of the science room. In the middle of the heavy atmosphere, Juho walked up to the front.

"Youth Literary Award, National Essay Contest Award, Literature Competition, National High School Essay Contest… There are a lot."

Despite the number, every contest had something in common. 'Qualification: High School Student.' He brushed his smooth hands together, thinking about how they had been wrinkled before, when he drank. Now, he too met the qualification.

"What are you going to choose?" Bom asked from the side.

Sun Hwa was also looking at the details of the contests from the other side. She had to have decided to take part in one.

He stared at her face. She relied on others. Others were an essential existence to her. She avoided doing anything that would put her on someone's bad side. For that reason, she didn't try to prove herself to be superior than others.

"I'm not sure yet."

It was a sensitive issue, and he decided to observe more. Like Mr. Moon had said, he couldn't live her life for her after all.

"I've made up my mind!" Sun Hwa said confidently as she grabbed one of the papers. She had chosen a competition hosted by a renowned four-year university.

"National High School Essay Contest."

"Are you aiming for the special recognition?"

It was like her. She'd always been an exemplary student.

"Win an award, and then get into a university. It's like catching two birds with one stone. I can't miss this."

"It won't be easy. Kids who compete in that train relentlessly at private institutes," Seo Kwang said.

The name of the competition itself gave off a strong impression. There was no way around it. Yet, Sun Hwa stood her ground, "You might as well shoot for the stars. I kind of want to experience it for myself too. I made up my mind. Bom, do you want join?"

While she was looking at one of the papers, she nodded. At that moment, her eyes moved to another spot and stopped at the Literature Essay Contest, something different from Sun Hwa's choice.

"Weren't you thinking about choosing another competition?" Juho asked her quietly.

"Huh? Oh, not really. I think it'd be nice to have Sun Hwa around. I don't think I'll be as nervous either," she answered with a smile.

As he looked at her, he heard a small voice sound from behind him and turned around.

"I'm going after the prize. Oooh, a thousand dollars in cash."

It was Seo Kwang. He had a piece of paper in his hand.

"I thought you didn't want to take part in any of them," Juho said.

"Everyone else is, so I felt kind of awkward backing out on my own."

"Do you even want to?"

"Meh, I'm not sure. Sometimes, I can't figure out my own heart."

Juho nodded. Nobody knew for certain. A person's heart was quite a pain in the neck.

"What's the hurry?" Juho asked.

After thinking on it briefly, Seo Kwang scratched his head and jokingly changed the subject, "Come on! It's one thousand dollars! Who wouldn't want that? If I win, I'll take you out."

Everyone turned their attention to Seo Kwang after his exaggerated remark. WIthout saying much, Juho moved aside. He had no intention to force a conversation.

"What the, there's a prize?"

"Yep, one thousand dollars."

"I want fried chicken!"

"Me too!"

Sun Hwa and Bom had already thought of what they wanted.

"Pizza for me," Baron said, having sat quietly all this time. He'd never miss an opportunity like that.

Juho told everyone in a low voice, "You guys might not want to celebrate too soon."

"At least we have something to celebrate," Sun Hwa said. Then, she remembered something she'd been meaning to ask, "What about you Baron? Are you planning on taking part in a competition? You're the sole artist in the Literature Club after all."

"Of course I am," Baron answered nonchalantly. Then, he took out a piece of paper he had been keeping to himself.

"Mr. Moon wouldn't leave me out. These are the details for the sketching competition."

"Wow, when is it? Can we go cheer for ya?"

"Forget it. You'll distract me," he turned down the offer at once.

As he watched the club restored to its boisterous atmosphere, Juho turned his eyes to the Youth Literary Essay Contest. It was relatively unpopular.

"Should I go with this one?"

The next day, he ran through the park early in the morning. It had become part of his daily routine to enjoy a beverage when he reached the rest area. As he quenched his thirst, he saw Sung Pil sitting straight on the bench. His thick eyebrows looked even darker, probably because he was sitting in the shade.

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46 Chapter 46 - A Flower Yet to Bloom 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

"So, you are still not making any friends?" Juho asked.

Sung Pil was quite a straight edge, which was unusual for his age. Without any change in his expression, he admitted the fact that he was alone, "Nope."

"Aren't you bored?"

At once, Sung Pil shook his head. He wasn't bored, apparently.

"I write. That's more than enough."

Even within a boisterous class, he wrote by himself. Somehow, Juho saw a resemblance to his old self. He too had been alone at one point. That was when he had written 'The Trace of a Bird.'

He looked at Sung Pil. His real name was Pil Sung Choi. Three years from then, he would accomplish his impressive debut.

'When did he write his debut novel?' Juho wondered.

"Have you been working on anything lately?" Sung Pil asked ahead of Juho.

He answered after thinking briefly, "Nothing unusual."

"I see."

"Instead,"

"Instead?" Sung Pil asked.

"I'm taking part in an essay contest with the club."

"An essay contest?"

His thick eyebrows furrowed.

"Yep. The Youth Literary Essay Contest."

"What's that? Can anybody take part in it?"

He seemed quite interested, and Juho told him everything he knew about the contest.

"I've heard you need a letter of recommendation from a teacher, but other than that, the only qualification is that you have to be a high school student." Then, he added, "There's a preliminary round too."

"A preliminary round? What's that look like?"

"It's like submitting your entry. You write about a topic of your choosing. After writing a short prose, you revise it to the set format and then upload it. Whoever gets picked gets to go up to the finals. I heard they give out the subject the day of."

"That sounds fun."

His voice was filled with interest, and Juho said, "You should give it a try."

"Should I?" he asked back immediately. His heart was already more than willing. After suddenly standing up from his seat, Sung Pil told Juho, "We'll meet at the finals."

He hadn't even applied yet.

"If the judges like what I wrote."

"No! We can make it happen if we work hard enough. We'll meet at the finals," he emphasized again. Although it was just before sunrise, his face was already shining brightly.

Juho chuckled with a sigh.

"Fine, if it's possible."

---

There was one week left until the deadline for applications, and Juho was sitting in front of his computer.

"A topic of my choosing, huh?"

He couldn't resist the yawn forcing its way out. He felt sluggish and was not in a mood to write. There was one week left. He thought about starting back the next day, but soon, he shook his head. There was no guarantee that he'd be more motivated then, so it'd be safer to upload it when he could. He would have looked for another competition if he had been on his own, but now that Sung Pil was involved, Juho had to keep his end of the deal.

"A topic of my choosing.."

The topic was the contestant's choice, which meant that they'd accept just about anything. Juho applauded their generosity.

"I have to get past the preliminary round somehow."

There was no time to lose. There were countless kids who had paid a handsome amount of money for detailed analyses of the past year's winning composition. However, it was hard to say that the Youth Literary Essay Contest would be more popular than Seo Kwang's or Sun Hwa's.

"That still doesn't mean that the competition will be taken over by those private institutes either."

There was no right answer in literature. Analyzing an award-winning work didn't always lead to winning an award. A high school literature contest was different from the professional world. What the critics were looking for the most was probably…

"... Writing honestly."

Heartfelt, unpretentious, honest compositions that made them continue reading despite the crude sentence structures. For example, a mother's letter was one of those things because there were emotions behind those words. They were heartfelt. Before sincerity, even the most skillfully written sentence became mere pretense.

Writing with sincerity might be something that was easier for those with less writing experience.

"At least, I prefer sincerity."

In writing, he'd much rather prefer sincerity over skill

"Sincerity…"

He immediately thought of someone. He was loud and had thick eyebrows. When he came across a ten cent coin on the street, he didn't hesitate to take it to the police station. And, he was not afraid to admit that he was alone.

"Let's do this."

He thought about writing about Sung Pil and grabbed a piece of paper that was rolling around the room and picked up a pen. First, he had to give shape to the ideas floating around in his head, 'Sung Pil, and thick eyebrows… would not be necessary. He's alone. He writes. He's honest. His writing. His future, present and past. Freedom. Police station. Race. Sincerity.'

There was no way he could include all those thoughts. The length of the composition was limited. In that case, a core foundation had to be established. He had to pick out the most memorable parts of the story.

"The past of a person who had succeeded."

That was not a failure. It was a leap toward success. He thought about Sung Pil's present. 'He writes by himself in a classroom full of kids…' In that place, he was alone.

"Is this going to turn into my story?"

He reminisced about his past and revisited memories that were more than thirty years old. He had been alone. He couldn't figure why that was. A person always became alone at some point.

'There was no seat for him anywhere. With his tightened lips, he listened to the sounds coming from the classroom.' One by one, he wrote out his honest feelings, advancing toward something, at least for the duration of his writing.

Just like that, 'The Trace of a Bird' was born.

He overlaid his memories with another person's appearance. Then, he closed his eyes and pictured Sung Pil looking more mature, but slowly getting younger.

"This should do."

He put his hands over the keyboard. Tick. Tick. For a while, there was nothing but the sound of the pressed keys.

'An author looking back to his first writing.'

Calmly, Juho wrote out his story.

---

"Did you apply?" Bom asked, and Juho nodded with a piece of cookie in his mouth. Of course he had.

"Your competition, The Youth Literary Essay Contest, is happening first right?" Sun Hwa asked while bringing some cookie crumbs to her mouth.

"I think so."

Every contest started on a different date. In terms of order, Juho's was first.

"Will I make it to the finals?"

"I'm sure you will."

'Crunch!'

Seo Kwang had answered while chewing on his chip, and Juho added with a shrug, "You don't know that."

"No, I'm confident you will."

"You sound way too confident. What if I don't?"

As Juho said that with a smile, Sun Hwa shouted, "Hey! Don't you say stuff like that!"

"Yeah! You'll make it!" Bom added, smiling.

"If you did a good job, you'll be fine," Baron said indifferently.

"You gotta start us off on a good note."

"So that we can ride the wave."

"Have a refreshing start."

Sun Hwa, Baron, and Seo Kwang said in order. Although hiding behind their presumably encouraging words, their true meaning was obvious. Bom smiled awkwardly.

"I'm moved to tears from all of your support."

'Buzz!'

As soon as Juho finished, a phone rang. The five immediately turned their eyes to the same place, and Juho slowly reached for his phone. He checked the screen.

"It's from the essay contest."

There was a still silence, and yet, apparent clamoring. In that moment, only Juho was calm.

"Hurry! Read it!"

"I'm sure it's good news!"

"Goodness! I don't know why I'm getting so nervous. You should be too!"

"Hurry up and read it!"

Sun Hwa, Bom, Seo Kwang, and Baron rushed him in order, and he calmly checked the message on his phone.

"Congratulations. You have been chosen as one of the finalists."

The science room was filled with cheers.

---

Juho was at a subway station. He was about ten minutes early to the appointment, so he walked into a nearby convenience store and bought a drink. When he walked out of the store as he opened his bottle, he saw Sung Pil standing there, looking around.

"You're early."

He turned around at the sound of Juho's voice.

"Here we are, going to the finals."

He had a satisfied look on his face. That day was the day when the finals were taking place. His thick eyebrows moved up and down with joy.

"Seriously, what luck!"

"You mean skill."

It was a rare talent to be able to make such arrogant remarks while maintaining such a modest appearance.

Sung Pil urged him on, "We should get going. We don't want to be late."

"Yep."

There was plenty of time, but Juho followed him without arguing. The two got on the subway.

"What do you think the topic will be?" Sung Pil asked with a slightly excited voice. It was apparent that he was looking forward to the contest.

"I'm not sure. It could be anything really. It could be this subway train we're on." There was no way to know when they hadn't even arrived at the conference hall, so Juho just thought out loud.

"The subway. I see. The subway."

Juho immersed himself in thought, thinking of the place he had just been.

"It could be a convenience store."

"Convenience store, huh…"

"Well, not likely."

"You never know."

'There's no way to know, but who knows? We might be lucky enough to guess,' he thought. Then, he thought about the various topics that had come up with in the Literature Club, "Hunger."

There was no telling whether a topic would be limited to an object or not.

"Hunger… "

"Speaking of which, I'm kind of hungry. Did you have breakfast?" he asked as he rubbed his belly.

"I had a quick bite, but I could probably eat a little more."

"Then, let's go grab some snacks."

"Sure."

The two got off the train and made their way into a noodle shop.

"Now, let's go inside. Shall we?"

"Yep. You said it's at a lecture hall, right?"

"It's down that street over there," Sung Pil said while looking at the campus directory.

Juho looked at the direction he was pointing. It was in a slight incline.

As they walked toward the building in the distance, Sung Pil asked, "What do you think?"

"About what?"

Upon his question, Sung Pil answered while moving his eyebrows, "Should we race?"

'A race. Is that really a wise decision before the contest?' Juho looked at their destination. There was still a long way to go. While he was contemplating, Sung Pil readied himself. By then, there was no choice.

"Fine."

It couldn't have taken that long. At Juho's answer, Sung Pil smiled as if he had been expecting him to agree to it, and they stood shoulder to shoulder before an invisible starting line.

"Should we make a bet? Just to make it more interesting."

Sung Pil agreed, "Let's keep it basic. Loser buys ice cream."

"There was a store on the way," Juho answered as he thought of the store he had seen on their way there.

As they got in position, Sung Pil gave out a signal, "Ready."

Juho flexed his legs.

"Go!" Sung Pil shouted.

As soon as he heard the signal, Juho bolted from his place. He saw Sung Pil from the corner of his eyes. They were running forward at a nearly identical speed.

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47 Chapter 47 - A Flower Yet to Bloom 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

As soon as his torso moved forward, the footsteps followed. From the scenery to the various sounds, everything was a step behind him. Sung Pil was the only exception. He was running right beside him, and Juho smiled. 'So, you're not going down easy, huh?'

He started to run out of breath. Still, he felt much better than he had before. The building was near, and the door became visible, so the two thought simultaneously, 'Whoever passes through that door is the winner.' Although his legs were tired from running uphill, Juho pushed on. Sung Pil did the same.

"Here I come!" Sung Pil shouted.

They were getting close to the door, and Juho added with a smile, "I can't let that happen!"

Then, he took his final step.

With his hand on his side, he bent forward. It was harmful to sprint immediately after a meal, but he chuckled as he caught his breath, "Haha."

"Agh! No!"

'Victory.'

Sung Pil groaned in defeat. He too was gasping for breath. Running up a hill was twice as hard as on a flat surface. On top of that, they had covered quite a distance. 'Still…'

"Twenty nine total. Fifteen wins, fourteen losses."

Juho felt great. They occasionally raced each other, and the results so far had been fourteen to fourteen out of twenty-eight. It didn't feel bad at all to be adding another victory to the record.

"I could've caught up!"

"That's a shame."

Sung Pil clenched his fist at Juho's calm attitude. The other contestants stared at the two as they walked into the building. The tension in the air had been alleviated by their race.

Paying no attention to the people looking at him, Juho looked around. The lecture hall was on the first floor. That's where he was going to be writing. He left Sung Pil writhing in defeat and asked a college student who was working as a guide for information, "We're not late, are we?"

"Ah, no. There's still plenty of time."

After checking the time, Juho told Sung Pil, "Take all the time you want. There's plenty of time."

"There's always a next time," Sung Pil said as he sprung up and brushed down his sides with his hands. It really wasn't a good idea to sprint right after a meal.

While drawing people's attention, they walked confidently into the lecture hall.

"There are so many desks here," Sung Pil said the first impression he got from the hall, and like he had said, there was a large number of desks. The hall was full of them, each capable of seating at least four.

There were empty seats here and there. As Juho found a seat in the backmost desk, Sung Pil sat himself in the row ahead. He was visible whenever Juho turned his head diagonally to the right. There was a large screen in the front of the hall, and 'The Youth Literary Essay Contest' was written in large letters. Underneath it, was the time for the beginning and the end of the contest. Two hours. It was plenty.

"I wonder what the topic is going to be."

'They're not going to make us play word chain all of a sudden like Mr. Moon, are they? You, sir, tell me the first word that comes to your mind. Whoever that would be, would panic.' As Juho occupied himself with random thoughts, somebody walked up to the podium. He introduced himself as a professor of creative literature and explained the schedule of the contest. Then, he talked about the following school orientation and lecture that would be given by an author who had also been invited to be one of the judges of the contest.

At that moment, a sound came from behind everyone, and he walked in bent over at the waist. He was late, but the professor didn't try to punish the contestant. For the most part, they seemed to be gracious toward people who were slightly late. It wasn't such a strict contest after all.

"I will now present to you the topic of today's contest."

The moment everyone had been waiting for. The topic marked the beginning of the contest. The entire lecture hall stood still. There was an odd tension in the air.

The professor took out a small piece of paper and then added, "Winter, beach, and days. Please choose one. You may begin."

As soon as he finished, the three words popped up on the screen: winter, beach, and days. Some kids started writing as soon as they received their papers whereas others took more time to think. None of the words Juho had guessed in the subway were there. 'I guess that's obvious,' he thought.

"Hm…"

'What to pick?' The only two that his mind was attracted to were days and beach. 'Days. Time coexists with space. Days spent in a certain place.' He thought about the conversation he'd had with Sung Pil on the Subway ride to the campus, 'Subway, convenient store. I'm more drawn to beach. I've written about a subway before."

He thought about the beach, 'The weather at the beach tends to be unpredictable. Waves break. It's sunny for a moment, and then the rain starts to pour down the moment after. It's a cloudy sky. After a peaceful time, a storm is bound to follow.'

As he put down the paper on the the desk, he closed his eyes and imagined the storm.

'The girl who lived at the beach knew all about the storm that followed at the end of peace. The sky changed. Clouds changed their shapes. The air and the temperature felt different. Everything changed from how they had been when things were peaceful. The wind carried plenty of dust. The dust piled up in people's hearts, breeding anxiety and impatience.' Juho picked up his pen.

"Ah."

His arm brushed up against another person. The student who sat next to him looked at his arm, but soon turned his eyes back to his own paper. 'I forgot that I was sharing the desk with three other people,' he thought as he lowered his eyes. The pens and pieces of paper were enough to fill the desk. His eyes followed down the desk. 'Paper, pencil, hand, paper, pencil, hand, cock-a-doodle.' A rooster crowed in his head. 'Is this what it's like to live as a chicken in a farm?' It almost felt like he was stuck in a word factory.

'This is frustrating.' He put down his pen and looked around the hall. There were many hands busy, writing. The professor had been long gone, but a few of the administrators were standing around. He looked diagonally from him, and with a serious face, Sung Pil was steadily filling out his paper. His thick eyebrows were slightly furrowed, a sign of concentration. He was doing well, but he too was about to brush up against the person sitting next to him.

There wasn't a lot of space, and Juho felt constrained. In the end, he stood up from his seat. 'I need some fresh air.' He randomly chose one of the people standing and asked for permission to step out. In a friendly manner, the person showed him the way to the restroom.

"Sigh."

Juho went the opposite direction from the restroom and pushed open the door made of glass. The outside air rushed in, but it didn't feel all that refreshing. He breathed slowly while leaning against the door. A building was blocking his sight, so he moved his eyes up to the sky. For some reason, the sky felt lower than usual.

"What if I can't write anything?"

It was suffocating to even think about going back into the lecture hall. 'A storm.' He imagined a gust of wind sweeping across the hall. 'It'd make things a bit more refreshing,' he thought.

"Haha."

Of course, that wasn't going to happen.

"Excuse me, what are you doing here?"

He turned back at the sudden sound of a person's voice. A man with a friendly face was standing there. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, and as Juho stood straight, the man asked again, "Is there a problem?"

He sounded friendly, and Juho knew who that man was, "Professor Bong."

"Huh, do you know me?"

"You're famous."

"It'd be nice if I were," he answered with a gentle smile.

It was not a sign of modesty by any means. Then, Juho realized that what he had said hadn't happened yet. 'Joon Soo Bong. This is before he becomes known.'

So, Juho added to settle the matter, "I'm a fan. I've been enjoying your work quite a bit."

"Thanks. I didn't know I'd have such a young fan."

Although he was an excellent writer, his work didn't appeal to the masses. From a livelihood-as-an-author perspective, absence of such appeal was fatal. Yet, he refused to change his style.

Then, he became famous.

Juho stared intently into his face. He had heard that he used to teach as a professor before committing to writing full time. The professor from the lecture hall had mentioned something about a lecture. 'Could he the speaker?'

At that moment, he remembered that he had forgotten to answer the professor's question.

"I came out for some fresh air."

"You're taking part in the essay contest right? I saw you back there. You were the only person looking up."

'Did he catch me getting distracted?' Juho thought as he laughed awkwardly. Joon Soo waved at that.

"Oh, I didn't mean anything bad. I just thought that you knew the value of knowing your surroundings."

"I see. Thank you."

Joon Soo nodded with a smile, a naive kind of smile, and Juho would have never guessed that he'd be meeting him here.

"Are you here as a judge?"

"Yes, embarrassingly."

'Embarrassing.' He was cautious about judging other people's writing. However, Juho accepted it. An amateur wouldn't recognize a master, but a master tended to recognize an amateur at once. In the same way, the writer's skill level became apparent even after reading for a brief moment.

'I didn't think I'd meet such a big-name writer at a contest I signed up for whimsically.' Juho wasn't sure of what to do.

"Then, I presume that you've read my book?"

"Sure," he answered with a smile.

'How would he judge his own writing? Before that, will I even be able to write anything for the contest?' Juho thought.

'Buzz.'

At that moment, Joon Soo's phone rang. After checking the caller's name, he added, "It's my teacher. If you're a fan, you'd know who, right?"

"Yun Seo Baek?"

Joon Soo smiled bright at the sound of her name. Again, it was a naive kind of smile.

"You really are a fan. I appreciate that. Well, good luck, and make yourself at home."

"Yes, sir."

He walked out through the door Juho was leaning against. 'His teacher.' He had been referring to an author named Yun Seo Baek. Well into her fifties, she took in pupils in order to train authors for the coming generation. Among her pupils, there were quite a few who were famous.

"She also happens to be friends with Hyun Do Lim."

She had announced her last work at the age of sixty. It was about her husband, Hyun Do Lim, and the reminiscing of her past.

"What are you doing?" It was the person who had showed Juho to the restroom, and he added as he called for him, "There's not a lot of time left."

"I'm coming."

Juho rushed back.

He sat down once he came back into the hall. It wasn't like he was going to have more space because he had been gone for a few minutes. He looked to his sides. There were contestants busy writing. With serious faces, they each wrote down their own, unique stories. 'How many of these students would actually grow up to be an author? How many of these students would actually dream about their childhood?'

Sadly, most of them would probably fail. There was no guarantee, whatsoever, that they would achieve their dreams in life. He was aware that it also applied just as much to him.

No matter how talented or how hard one tried, failure was always near. Some stayed completely still out of fear. Some kept moving despite it. Some carefully calculate their next step. There were many ways to deal with failure, and none of those were wrong answers. Humans were bound to experience failure regardless. Well, maybe not him.

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48 Chapter 48 - A Flower Yet to Bloom 4

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

Pil Sung Choi, in the future, he would become a bestselling author under the name of Sung Pil. He was a flower yet to bloom, and his potential was yet to be fully realized. Juho looked forward to the countless books he would be putting out in the future and even more so to the moment when that bud bloomed into a beautiful flower in their cruel world.

He saw Sung Pil's back from behind. The people sitting beside him were leaning forward just like him. Everyone had their heads down with their eyes focused on their paper. Only those who could dare to straighten their backs in that place were given the rights to escape and move up to a higher place. 'Would Sung Pil dare to take the chance?' As Juho's thoughts meandered, Sung Pil suddenly looked up and glanced over at Juho. Their eyes met. Juho was somewhat surprised by him. He was mouthing some words, and Juho looked carefully to try to figure out what he was trying to say.

"Hurry up and get back to work."

Juho chuckled quietly at his concern. With his thick eyebrows twitching, he turned around and faced forward. He didn't quite blend with such a serious atmosphere. Amid anxious, impatient people, he was the only person who was excited. Perhaps that was how he would be able to soar to the sky as a writer.

'I want to write about him.' The girl who lived at the beach was no longer. Only the thick eyebrows remained in Juho's mind. He wanted to see the sight of Sung Pil facing the storm. He wanted to know how to face the storm.

He checked the time. There was about an hour left to the competition. He mapped out a story in his head, and there wasn't enough time to write everything he wanted to. The format of his story didn't quite fit the occasion, but it was a story he could finish in a couple of hours. 'Well, I gotta follow what my heart desires,' he reminded himself as he picked up his pen.

As he was busied himself writing, his hand again made contact with the person next to him. Just like previously, he briefly glanced over without saying anything. He stopped writing, looked in her direction and whispered, "Sorry."

He apologized first. She seemed flustered, but soon after she lowered her head. Juho smiled, feeling relieved.

Like everyone else in the hall, Juho moved his hands busily. He was rushing slightly. Even as he recognized the urgency in his heart, he kept on writing. There was no time, so it made sense that he was feeling that way. It was nothing unexpected.

What was more important in that moment was to maintain a rational mindset. One shouldn't be carried away by the urgency in his own heart and make the mistake of letting his hand take over. The wise thing to do was to write with rationale. There wasn't much meaning to a composition that had been rushed into completion because the writer had been in a hurry. His hand no longer reeked with alcohol, and he knew he was capable, so he tightened his grip around his pen.

"Now, please bring your submissions to the front," a voice informed the end of the competition.

Then, Juho looked up. The creative literature professor was at the podium.

"Is it over?"

He put down his pen. His hand was glowing bright red. Sounds that had grown distant slowly made their way back. The lecture hall was getting noisy. Some looked relieved whereas others looked sad. While massaging his hand, Juho slowly stood up from his seat and walked toward the podium. When he walked outside after submitting his paper, Sung Pil was there. As soon as he saw Juho, he walked over to him and asked, "How'd you do?"

"Eh, so-so."

"I feel pretty confident. What did you write about?"

"'The beach.'"

"I see. I went with 'days.'"

He had just answered Juho's next question without even being asked, and Juho nodded. 'Days, huh?' He was curious about what kind of story might have come out, but he wouldn't be able to read it now that it had been submitted. As he watched the other contestants lingering outside, Juho asked Sung Pil, "I think there's a school orientation now. I'm thinking about heading back. What are you going to do?"

"You're not going to stick around? Can we do that?"

"It's up to the person."

Sung Pil took a moment to think and said, "Hm. It's still part of the schedule. I think I better stick around."

'I knew it.' He had a diligent character and he wanted to stay for the entirety of the program. Juho nodded.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"I'll buy the ice cream tomorrow."

Juho remembered their bet from earlier and chuckled. 'He could've let it slide.' Without saying any more, the two parted ways. Juho walked back to the subway station on his own, thinking, as he walked down the darkening street, 'What was my answer to his question when he asked how I did?'

So-so.

"Maybe, I could've done better."

Bitter, he kept walking.

*

Joon Soo looked at the pile of papers before his eyes. Other judges like Professor Choi, Professor Han, and Professor Byung, were also reading something.

"I guess it's too soon to expect the next Yun Woo," Professor Choi murmured as he put down what he had been reading. There was regret in his tone.

Joon Soo answered, "If these kids wrote like Yun Woo, I wouldn't be able to keep my job."

"Haha! You've got nothing to worry about Mr. Bong. Everyone knows about your skills."

"It'd be nice if that was true," Joon Soo answered to Professor Byung with a chuckle.

"There are still some who did well. Look at this one."

Professor Byung handed Joon Soon one of the submissions. Topic: Days. Name: Pil Sung Choi.

After reading through it, he nodded, "This is good. He used a convenience store as the space for expressing the time loop. Refreshing. I like his style. He's young, but it's got some weight to it. I think I'm going to be seeing him around as an author."

"Who wrote it?"

"Take a look."

He stretched as he handed over the paper to Professor Choi. He was tired from reading through and judging other people's writing. He found no joy in reading for the purpose of categorization. No matter how sloppy it was, a composition that embodied its writer's dreams made for an excellent work. 'Coming to think of it, what about that kid I ran into earlier?' Since he didn't know his name, he couldn't look for his work. Then, he thought about the lecture, 'I didn't see him…' He set aside his thoughts and continued reading through the piles of paper.

"Next up…"

This time, the paper was on 'the beach,' by Juho Woo. 'That's a unique name.'

"What should we do for dinner afterwards?"

"Let's go for a drink nearby, shall we?"

"We still have a lot of work to do," while working quietly, Professor Han responded with a gentle voice.

The two other professors laughed it off and then went back to reading.

"You look so serious Mr. Bong. What are you reading?" Professor Han asked while looking at him. Joon Soo didn't respond.

Professor Choi, who was sitting next to him, called for him again, "Mr. Bong?"

"... Yes."

Still, Joon Soon looked up in a delayed response. At that, Professor Choi took the paper from his hand.

"What is it that's mesmerizing you?" With a cringe, he added after taking the paper from him, "This is incomplete. It should be disqualified."

He put the paper down without even reading it carefully.

"... Of course. This is a competition," Joon Soo said as he kept his eyes fixed on the paper.

It was a competition. There was no award for unfinished work. Yet…

"I don't think I'd like anything else in here anymore."

*

Juho stared into the ceiling as he lay on his bed. He was regretting his performance at the competition.

"There wasn't enough time."

He had been ambitious. He had known that he was cutting too close. He had been aware that he might not be able to finish it in time.

"I didn't think I'd actually not finish."

He thought he would've been able to pull it off. He didn't feel angry or sad. Only, the regret lingered at the end of his finger tips.

"Sung Pil. He had done it."

He reminisced about the past. It had been about a week since the competition, and as usual, he had met up with Sung Pil for his morning exercise. His thick eyebrows had seemed like they were sitting higher than usual.

"I got the award," he had said with a slightly stiff voice. While he had been stretching, Juho had looked up at him. He had been looking down with anticipation and concern.

"Hahaha!"

At the sight of his stiff, peculiar expression, he couldn't help but laugh. Flustered, Sung Pil had asked seriously, "Why are you laughing?"

"You should've seen the look on your face."

"That'd be difficult since I don't have a mirror on me at the moment."

Juho hadn't been surprised by the news. He'd had a feeling that Sung Pil might win.

"Congratulations."

After laughing for a good while, he had sincerely congratulated his friend. Sung Pil had smiled joyfully. He had won an award in his first essay competition. He definitely had potential.

"He lost the race that day, too."

Juho got up from his bed. 'Rustle.' Dozens of pages made a rustling sound whenever he moved on the mattress. It was the remainder of the story that he hadn't had the time for.

'After facing the storm, the man became even stronger.'

"Would things have been different at all if I had actually finished?"

'Or would Sung Pil have won still?'

"Although, I'm not particularly crazy about the award."

His only regret was not being able to compete with Sung Pil's story. 'Whose work would have moved the hearts of the judges more?'

"Well, I didn't even make it to the end, so what can I do?"

An incomplete work was not read by the judges. It was a competition after all. The moment he had submitted his work, no, the moment the bell had rang, Juho had known all along.

"I felt confident for once."

For once, he had actually felt the desire to write, to beat Sung Pil, and to write about him.

"Well, no use in crying over spilled milk."

Desiring a change of environment, he decided to go for a a walk. He stepped on the floor, and there were papers scattered throughout even that. He walked toward the door, stepping over many pages.

"The sun feels hot today."

He put his hand over his eyes at the sudden sunshine and felt the parts of his body exposed to the sun getting warmer. He walked aimlessly. 'When did I start going on walks?' He tried to retrace his memories. At first, he didn't like to wander around outdoors. That changed when he started writing. Since then, he intentionally went out whenever there was time. It could have been that being an author involved going out and looking for things.

He walked into a residential area. There were many hills because the entire neighborhood was on the mountains. From time to time, he saw the mountain peeking through the alleyways and he went up and down several hills, growing sweatier. By the time he had lost count of the hills he had climbed and gone down from, he saw another hill before him. Without hesitating, Juho headed up.

"It's kind of steep."

He moved slowly. The peak of the hill was pointing toward the sky. Then, he saw a person, a mother with a stroller with her baby inside.

"They must have come out for a walk too."

He looked at the houses that were facing one another between the hills. He couldn't remember exactly from when, but it was definitely one of the older memories. It had been either really hot or really cold, but the only thing left in that fragment of memory was a voice.

"I heard it around here somewhere."

The voice of a mother had come through the wall of the residential area. There had also been the sound of a baby crying. It had been weeping in sorrow while the mother shouted, "I'm so, so sick of this! I've had it!"

"Had she been saying that to her baby?"

To that day, he didn't know what the mother was getting sick of. Only, he vividly remembered her voice echoing throughout the hills. As he wondered if he'd hear that voice again, he climbed the hill. After looking at the houses, he looked ahead. There was a stroller coming down the hill.

A scream followed.

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49 Chapter 49 - The Sound of a Crying Baby

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

Somebody was shouting.

Juho was looking at the stroller that was still coming down the hill. A stroller coming down a hill was not a problem in and of itself. However, this was different. A stroller was rushing down the hill on its own, away from someone.

No one was holding the stroller's handlebar. No one was around the baby. The stroller was plunging down the hill, and with an ominous sound, it finally fell.

'Thud.'

It was hard to tell if the sound had come from the stroller or from his heart. Thud. The stroller that had been plunging down the hill toward Juho had suddenly changed its course toward the right. There was a wall there, and the stroller didn't seem sturdy enough to protect the baby from the cold concrete wall.

'I hear it.'

At that moment, he had heard the sound of the baby. It hadn't been the sound he remembered. The baby inside the stroller had been wailing. He saw the baby's red lips through the stroller's translucent cover.

He had run towards it without hesitation, getting closer to the baby. However, he wasn't fast enough. He had to be faster or he wouldn't be able to save the baby. At that rate, the stroller would ram into the wall. The sound of the baby's wail distracted him.

'Who was screaming earlier? It was probably the mother,' he thought. Her scream overlapped with the voice in his memory. "I'm so sick of this!" His heart was pounding. 'What if the baby gets killed? What if the stroller rams into that rock solid wall?'

"Get the stroller!"

He recognized the words that jumped out of his mouth. "Get it!" Who was he shouting to? He saw the baby's hands reaching towards the sky and lept. He fell on his side, holding the stroller. Then, he felt a strong impact against his back.

"Gah!"

"Wah! Wah!"

He felt dizzy and he was breathing raggedly. His heart was pounding, but he heard a cry.

'A cry. The baby's alive. The baby's not dead.'

He picked up the stroller. The baby was covered in a bundle of cloth, and there were no apparent injuries.

"My baby!"

The mother rushed down the hill toward the baby, who was still wailing. Juho leaned against the wall and collapsed.

"Thank you! Thank you so much."

"Oh, no. The stroller fell. You should go to the hospital to make sure the baby's OK."

"Yes, of course. Thank you. Goodness, I can't thank you enough."

He heard her thanks from the distance. His ears were ringing. It almost felt like he was under water, and he felt sluggish. When he snapped out of it, both the mother and the baby were gone, and he was standing on an empty hill by himself in a dazed state.

"I wonder… if the baby's going to be OK."

He looked at his hand. It was bleeding. The small wound was throbbing painfully. His palm started to heat up. It was slightly itchy and painful at the same time.

Soon and slowly, he went on his way, his pace picking up gradually. 'I must write!' His mind commanded him, 'You must write, now!'

He looked through his pockets, but there was nothing. No pen, nor paper.

He looked around. There was no paper, anywhere. 'I have to write before this feeling fades away.' He couldn't find the tools he needed and clenched his hands into fists. The wound was still throbbing.

He ran through the hills with every bit of strength he had, up and down.

Gasps of warm air came out of his mouth.

'I have to go write. I have to write out what I'm feeling. I have to start my story while this feeling is still fresh. I have to write it out while it's still raw, before I start trimming it with rationales. I have to embody this feeling in my writing."

"Ah!"

He tripped on a rock on the ground, but thankfully, he didn't fall. Juho restored his balance and continued running as fast as he could. Doing all of that just to write.

He was running out of breath and he felt water going into his nose. The water that surrounded that world was going into his body. The screams of the mother were still lingering in his ears. The fear of death was still raw in his mind. The wailing of the baby was still haunting him.

He finally arrived home and slammed the door open, taking his shoes off in a hurry and running into his room. 'Pencil, pen, it doesn't matter. Paper, paper, paper. Quickly, fast!'

"Sigh."

Juho swallowed anxiously. His mouth was dry. He needed to drink something. There was a water, a deep ocean, and he had to pull what he was looking for out of that it. He had to dredge it out. It had to come up nearly to the surface.

"Mother, baby, wailing, distance, death, wall, scream, hills."

'It needs to be more specific.'

"The mother looked young. She had a mole… two moles under her eye. She was red around her eyes and so were her eyes. Her hair was short, and she didn't wear any makeup. She was panting. Her chest was moving up and down. Her hands were shaking like her voice. She was wearing a navy blue shirt with blue jeans and sandals. Her lips were dry, and her tongue was red."

'More.'

"What about the hill? There were six telephone poles. There were also red bricks, a gray wall and the asphalt. Residential area. It wouldn't have been weird if somebody had been watching. It wouldn't have been weird to take notice after hearing either the baby or the mother."

It was exactly like how he remembered. He might not have been the only person who heard the scream. Of course, the people in that neighborhood probably heard it too, even if they had covered their ears. That's sound. One can't simply ignore it because he or she doesn't want to hear it. It's not like eyes. The ears listen until the very end.

"A little more, just a little more."

He moved his hand frantically. A trail of blood followed his pen.

*

When she came home from work, she realized that all of the lights in the living room were switched off. 'Juho must be home by now.' She walked in as she switched on the lights.

"Son?" she called for Juho. There was no response. 'Did he go somewhere?' After moving the groceries to the kitchen, she looked around the living room. Then, she saw that the door to Juho's room was slightly ajar and heard him in his room.

She opened the door.

"Oh my goodness…!"

Juho was in his room. He had grown much more mature as of late and he was the genius author, the talk of the town. She had been glad at first, but as time went on, her concerns grew with his fame. Even after more than forty years, there were still countless things to be learned. She wasn't sure of what to do. She didn't know what to tell her son as a person who lead an ordinary life. Thankfully, her proud son had been doing well on his own.

Now, he was trying to do something. As his mother, she was able to tell on instinct. Without even sitting on a chair, he was writing on his knees on the floor, surrounded by pages and pages of paper while pouring out his inspiration like water.

Being careful not to make a sound, she backed out slowly. She wasn't sure of what he was up to, but of one thing she was certain, 'I can't disturb him. I can't disturb my son.'

"Keep it up, son," she rooted quietly for him as she sat on a chair in the kitchen.

*

Juho left for school, struggling to massage his burning back. In the morning, his mother had seen the scattered mess in his room and slapped him on the back. "Clean your room!" she'd yelled.

"Yawn!"

On the hand covering his mouth, there was a bandage wrapped around it, and he was startled by the blood on his pen.

His eyelids felt heavy from writing into the morning. Though it hadn't been refined, he tried moving around bits and pieces of his story. As a consequence of that, he was going to school with hardly any sleep and he might as well give up trying to stay awake for his classes. "I'm sorry, teachers."

"Hey… What's with your face?" As he was passing through the gate, a voice called for him from behind. He turned around and saw Seo Kwang waving at him. He had asked, surprised by Juho's appearance.

"I didn't get a lot of sleep last night."

"My friend, need I remind you that sharing is caring?" though Juho had already explained, Seo Kwang asked insistently.

"What do you mean, where? We're at school."

Like the vigorous youth they were, they were boisterous from the morning, but Juho went to the class with his eyes closed halfway.

"Hey, wake up."

As expected, he'd slept through the morning classes. He raised his head at the sound of Seo Kwang's voice. It was hard to wake up. As he slowly bobbed his head up and down, Seo Kwang said, "Go wash your face or something. Make sure to tell me the website before you go."

"Being a student is exhausting."

"What are you talking about? Nothing's easy in this world."

Juho rubbed his face to force himself awake. His body felt stiff from leaning onto the desk all morning. Then, he stood up and opened the window, but the breeze wasn't cold enough to wake him up.

"Let's go eat, I'm starving."

'Yeah, I should eat.' He stood up and asked, "Sun Hwa and Bom are joining us for lunch, right?"

"If you're late and get in trouble, I'm not going to take responsibility for your decisions."

"Is it that late?"

"Well, not enough to be scolded by Sun Hwa."

The two headed for the cafeteria and saw Sun Hwa and Bom waiting for them in the distance.

Just as Seo Kwang had said, Sun Hwa didn't look very happy. Bom was next to her, busy trying to calm her down.

"You two! Why are you so late? Do you have any idea how important a meal is to a student? I'm not rushing here for no reason, you know."

"Don't look at me. We're late because somebody wouldn't wake up."

Seo Kwang naturally shifted the blame onto Juho. It was true, however, so there wasn't much else to be said.

"Sun Hwa, we should go in before it gets late."

"Juho Woo, if they served something good for lunch today, you're a dead man."

"Haha."

"Stop laughing! I'm trying to stay mad here."

The four went into the cafeteria. Thankfully, the daily menu hadn't been very special, and there were plenty of seats since a good number of kids had already left.

"Lunch isn't very good today," Sun Hwa complained.

"Yeah," Bom agreed with her.

'At least there are some solid chunks in there,' Juho thought as he looked at his bowl of soup. There were pieces of mushroom and tofu floating around.

Thinking back to the time he had wandered about the soup kitchen, this was more than enough to be thankful for, so he put the food in his mouth without complaining.

"So why are you late?" Sun Hwa asked. She seemed displeased for some reason.

'Maybe it's her lunch… but then, she would've had the same expression even if the lunch was delicious.'

"I was having trouble waking up."

"What were you doing at night staying up?"

He thought about her question, 'How do I explain this?'

Juho had written throughout the night. He'd started writing because he'd ran into various sources of inspiration when he had gone out for a walk. He had gone for a walk because…

"I didn't get the award," Juho answered as he reached for a side dish. He regretted not finishing his composition at the competition.

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50 Chapter 50 - The First Encounter

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

At Juho's ambivalence, Seo Kwang asked as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard, "What? Why? Who were the judges? Which competition were you part of again? You of all people though? You?"

"Hey, man. There's no need to be so nosy."

"Well, it's just that… of all people…"

Sun Hwa glared at him, and Juho explained while Seo Kwang still wore a puzzled look on his face, "I just didn't have enough time."

Then, he put the spoonful of food in his mouth. For some reason, nobody was talking. He picked up a piece of kimchi from the tray and brought it to his mouth. 'Crunch. Crunch.' There was nothing but the sound of chewing for a while.

"Huh?"

Juho looked around at the prolonged silence. Sun Hwa was there with a slightly awkward look while Seo Kwang was still murmuring.

'Aha!'

Then, he understood the situation.

"I'm fine. Really. I did get something good out of it."

"OK…"

For some reason, the response was still lukewarm.

'I can't think of a way to explain this. I'll just leave 'em be for now,' he thought as he chewed his food.

---

The next morning, he found a black plastic bag full of snacks on top of his desk. When he picked it up, he found a comic book underneath.

"The heroic story of a protagonist who overcomes the trials of his past."

That's what was written on the back of the book. He started reading it, and it was actually not bad.

Soon, Seo Kwang arrived. Instead of a bag full of something, he had brought a bag full of questions, and Juho answered them light-heartedly, saying, "It's fine. I wrote the rest at home. I wasn't even interested in the award anyway."

At that, Seo Kwang's eyes lit up, "Let me read it!"

"I don't know where I put it."

"I'll find it. When are you free today? Can I come over?"

"Uh, no. Not for a while."

'I have ideas for my next book in my room. If he sees it, he might find out that I'm Yun Woo. This guy's quick when it comes to reading and writing."

He added as Seo Kwang was still in shock, "I'll bring it to you later."

"You promise?"

"Yep."

After comforting Seo Kwang, he smiled as he looked at the comic book and the bag full of snacks. His friends were unstoppable.

"I should share this with the rest of the club members."

Having read through the comic book between classes, he had a lively conversation about it with Sun Hwa. He had to spend significantly more time listening to her, but nevertheless, it was a fun time.

"I'm home."

"Hey, I'm actually on my way out, so you'll have to eat dinner on your own. Don't forget the fruit!"

"OK. Be safe."

When he got home, Juho changed out of his school uniform and sat himself in front of his desk with a cup of water. There were untidy stacks of paper to the side.

He was somewhat afraid to reach for them. 'This is going to be hard to read. It's going to be all over the place.' A composition written in the midst of an intense emotional experience was usually difficult to read later.

Still, he had to choose. He had to pick out bits and pieces to knit it into a story. He had to reach for a lump of clay that barely held its shape. He had to cut and trip to make something out of it, whether it was a person or an animal.

He leaned against the backrest and slowly relaxed his body, trying to replay the events in his head.

'There was a mother and her child. Daughter? Son? I can't know yet.' A doll without any facial features came to mind. It was wearing a name tag that read 'mom.' Juho approached her.

'The mother loses her grip on the stroller. The stroller rushes down the steep hill.' When he saw that, he became curious about the expression on her face, so he turned around and looked at her.

The woman without eyes, nose or mouth looked around as she recognized him staring at her.

He tried to talk to her.

"Aren't you going to go after the stroller?"

The doll didn't respond.

"Your baby is in there."

She still didn't respond. Only, her stomach was slightly bloated. She was breathing in.

"Your child is in danger."

The cloth on the doll puffed up. Air was trying to escape.

"Your baby might die."

"Ah."

The doll suddenly had a mouth but still no eyes or nose. Her dry lips moved about with her red tongue, "Ah. Ah."

"Look, the stroller fell."

"Ah."

"Can you hear the wailing?"

The mouth that opened was now splitting sideways. "Ee. Ee." The wind blew through the gap. "Ah. Ee," that was all she had said so far.

"Can you enunciate so that I can hear you better?"

"Ah. Ee."

"Speak louder. Move your mouth more."

"Ee. Ee. Ee."

"She sounds like a broken cassette player," he murmured in frustration.

Although her mouth was the only feature on her face, she still couldn't say anything. Juho was growing impatient and anxious at the eerie sight. He took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. He couldn't afford to overthink things.

"I'll wait here, so tell me."

"Ah. Eu. Ee," she moaned with her long, thin lips.

He carefully observed her face. It wasn't easy to look for an expression in a face without eyes or nose. Still, he kept his eyes fixed on her.

"How are you feeling?"

The shape of her mouth didn't change, "Ee. Ee."

"How did you feel when you found me?"

Her lips got even thinner.

"I could've been too slow."

They kept getting thinner.

"You said you're sick of something."

Her stomach puffed up. It bulged out more than her breasts.

"Hee."

Her bloated stomach sank back to its place, and he felt her breath on his cheek. He saw her teeth between her rolled up lips. He saw her tongue. It was all red.

"You've been smiling."

Juho smiled with her.

Slowly, he walked away from her. He wanted to hear more, but he had to stop for the day.

'Tap.'

A small, hail-like thing fell from the sky. It was a piece of debris of some sort. Then, it started pouring like rain, but what fell cracked like it had been shattered.

"I'll come back another time," with those words, he opened his eyes. He couldn't remember how long he had been keeping his eyes closed. As he sat there exhausted, Juho felt something wet on his feet.

"Ah."

The glass of water had fallen on the floor. Thankfully, none of the pages were wet. It had been a good thing that he had kept the glass on the desk, so that he could "clean" his room. 'Well, I guess the adults want us kids to listen to them for a reason,' he thought.

Mother.

There were countless mothers in that world. A woman who delivered life, and then the life that was bound to fade away.

After staring up at the ceiling for some time, Juho reached for his pen.

In the end, he didn't clean the water until it was close to dawn.

---

"Alright, eyes on the board."

Math class.

As he scratched his eyes, he took out a small notepad from his pocket. Juho had bought one after the incident at the hillside, and it was small enough to be portable.

He had tried writing out his story in a notepad. Looking at the scattered fragments of the story, he thought, "It's not enough."

It lacked too many things, much like the faceless woman.

Meeting a character had always been exhausting. Whenever Juho started a conversation, they answered honestly. Of course, the woman had just started talking, but she was incapable of saying words or sentences.

It was a proof that her character hadn't been fully formed yet.

'I'm sure she'll look more like a person the next time I see her.'

Once again, he organized what he had written on his notebook.

There were plot holes throughout. Whether it was a person or an event, he needed raw material in order to fill those holes. Juho tried to imagine the forthcoming path of the protagonist and looked around to see what he could find, but the fog was too thick. He couldn't see anything.

Yet, there was one thing he wanted. He wanted something that would work in contrast with the dark overall tone of the story. He was looking for something that stood out at a glimpse, yet stayed consistent with the rest on the inside.

The issue was that he had no idea where he could find such a thing. He tried searching through his thoughts. There were passing images, but nothing popped out.

He needed something veiled and somewhat discreet. 'Inner thoughts, feebleness, hesitation. What surrounds these words?'

"So if you substitute this part with 1…"

He was getting too sleepy. Juho tried to shake his head as hard as he could, but he couldn't resist his heavy eyelids.

Considering he had been up almost all night, how sleepy he was made perfect sense. Having two jobs was not easy.

"Therefore, we can infer the solution through this process."

"Yawn," Juho yawned once again. He tried to stay awake as he wiped the tears that oozed out of his eyes, but it was no use. 'I gotta get some shut-eye. I'm sure Seo Kwang will wake me up. I'm sorry, teac…'

The math teacher's voice slowly faded away. His head fell lower and lower, and he didn't fight to stay awake this time.

After sleeping through his afternoon classes, he barely woke up and walked over to the science room. With Seo Kwang nagging him to wake up, he opened the door. Sun Hwa and Bom were already there.

"Hey," they greeted like usual.

There was nothing different except for the coldness in the air. After staring at the two for some time, Juho opened his mouth, "I'm asking just in case."

"What?"

"Did you guys get into an argument?"

There was a visceral response from Sun Hwa and Bom, but it wasn't until after a few seconds later that they denied him.

"Yep, they did," Seo Kwang murmured.

"Nope."

Juho knew their answers weren't entirely sincere.

He was incredibly surprised to learn that they had fought. There was a crack to their already-fragile friendship. Though they were pretending to be OK, a relationship leaning one direction was susceptible to fall apart.

The two were not on good terms. 'Was that a good thing or a bad thing?' He felt an itch at the end of his fingertips and decided to learn more about what had happened.

But before he could say anything, at that moment, the door slid open. It was Baron. Though they greeted one another like usual, he had to have noticed the coldness in the air also because he also looked at the two girls and asked, "Did you two fight?"

"Nope," Sun Hwa answered. However, no one believed her. The tension was apparent even at a glance. They were usually talking and laughing together, but this time, neither was saying a word.

"I don't think you're being honest."

"We didn't fight," Bom answered, but her expression was saying otherwise. It was obvious something had happened.

Then, Mr. Moon walked in, and he too asked the same question as the others, "Did you two fight?"

"Nope," Bom answered again.

Mr. Moon looked at the two girls briefly and added, "If you're interested in applying for an essay contest, come find me in the staffroom. Juho and Baron, if there's another contest you'd like to be a part of, come see me."

"Yes, Mr. Moon."

Even as the rest of the club members answered, Juho couldn't open his mouth. Seo Kwang started poking his side, wanting for an explanation, but Juho wasn't sure what to tell him.

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51 Chapter 51 - Myself, Others, and My Friend 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

Seeing Juho showing no response, Seo Kwang whispered, "What's with them? They were doing fine yesterday. It was almost like one couldn't live without the other. Did something happen?"

"I don't know."

"There's no way you don't. Come on, fess up."

Sadly, Juho really didn't. He saw a river flowing between Sun Hwa and Bom. It was the distance between them. Bom was sitting anxiously, examining Sun Hwa's face, while Sun Hwa didn't even look in Bom's direction.

He observed the two from time to time.

*

As usual, Sun Hwa was getting ready for class. She sat in her seat and opened up her textbook. Like those of diligent students, its pages were filled with her notes. She believed that grades brought a certain image to a student. A student who had good grades would be seen as an exemplary student. On top of that, if she were to pay even the slightest attention to her looks, she'd become untouchable. Such a position actually existed within the boundaries of school, and Sun Hwa had always worked hard to keep herself in that spot.

"Hey, is she reading a comic book?

"Seems like she is. What is she doing in the corner though?"

"Eh, let her be. Who knows?"

The students in the class whispered jeeringly. Quietly, Sun Hwa looked behind her. In the corner, there was a girl with a slightly messy appearance and a comic book in her hand.

'That's it,' she thought.

A student with a bad image was always treated poorly by her peers. There was a big contrast from the time Sun Hwa had brought her comic books to school. They had joked around while taking turns to read them together then.

Others may have poked fun at her for having a childish taste, but nobody looked at her loathingly. That was how much impact an image had on a female student. An image was made to be seen by others. After all, people weren't made to live in solitude. They had to live being mindful of how they appeared to the eyes of others, always.

"Hey, Sun Hwa, someone's looking for you," said one of the girls who had been slandering the girl with the comic book up to a moment ago.

When she looked into the hallway, she saw Juho standing outside. She got up at once, feeling unpleasant being in that environment.

Juho took her to the school yard. Apparently, he wanted to say something to her.

"What do you want?" she asked grumpily as she sat down on a wooden bench outside.

There were several benches in a small space under a tree in the schoolyard, and Juho sat on the innermost seat. In his hand, there were two beverages he had bought from the cafeteria.

"I wanted to say something really quick."

"Is this a confession?"

"Haha!"

"Are you laughing at me!?"

She sat next to him and took a beverage from his hand. She seemed certain that it was for her, and since she had guessed right, he didn't say anything.

"I didn't fight with Bom."

With those words, she chugged her beverage. He looked at her and said, "I read your paper."

"Pfff!"

She spewed the beverage in her mouth out like a fountain. Fortunately, she hadn't been looking in Juho's direction, so there were no casualties. Instead, she left a dark stain on the ground.

Before he had time to go look for tissues, she asked with a flustered voice while wiping her mouth with her hand,"Wh-what did you say you read?"

"Your paper. I found it in the science room. I couldn't help it."

"Who do you think you are? Seo Kwang? Are you a print addict too? Do you read whatever you find?"

"Sorry, I was too curious."

'How are you so confident?' she looked at him in disbelief. It was a good thing that she didn't seem infuriated.

"I apologize," he added.

"Well, it's not… Sigh," she sighed. "I'm not exactly in a place to be saying things like this to you."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing."

Surprisingly, she wasn't as angry as he had been expecting. If anything, she seemed more anxious.

"How was it?" she asked for his evaluation.

'Is she worried about how others are evaluating her skill?' he thought. It hadn't been anything special, but he chose his words carefully.

"I enjoyed it. It was fun, wild, and it didn't beat around the bush."

"Yeah?"

"Yep."

Despite an answer that resembled a compliment, she remained anxious. 'Why is she still anxious?' he wondered. Soon, he reached the answer. "Did somebody tell you that you're bad at writing?"

"Huh?"

'I knew it.' It was apparent. 'How did he know?' she thought as she looked at him. From a writer's perspective, it was a simple answer.

"Who? Was it Mr.Moon?"

"No." She fiddled with the empty can in her hand. It was hard to see her face because of her hair, but she continued with a calm voice, "In middle school, I used to love to write."

"What about comic books?"

"I wasn't into them back then."

'Seo Kwang would've jumped with joy. Who would've thought she had been into literature at one point?'

"When I finished a story for the first time, I showed it to my friends. I was so satisfied with how it had turned out. In my eyes, it was better than any book I'd ever read."

"But?"

Her head dropped lower.

"They laughed at me."

"Hm."

"I was so offended. I felt really, really awful. But you know what? I laughed with them. 'Hahaha. Right? It's funny right?' like that."

It must have left a dent in her pride. That was what it was like to be evaluated by others. There was cruelty to one's evaluation of herself not being in line with others' evaluation of her.

"That was the first time I'd experienced something like that. I did well in school and my looks weren't half bad either, so I didn't have to worry about being laughed at."

It was her first time. That was why she had chosen to mimic her friends rather than being wise in the way she handled their criticism.

"That was it. I'm not really traumatized or afraid of being around people. I just let it slide."

She had been doing well so far. Just like everyone else her age, she took exams and received her grades. Like she'd said, she wasn't afraid of being around other people or lived with trauma. However, none of that meant that she wasn't hurt.

"It's just that I've come to realize how much impact others around me have," she said calmly. "Since then, I've distanced myself from reading."

"So, that's how you got into comic books?"

"Yep. I borrowed one from a friend who was always getting picked on. Unlike her, I never got picked on."

He thought about the moment when he had visited her in class. A lone girl and a comic book in her hand. At once, he was able to picture her friend.

There was always a loner in any class. For the most part, classrooms always looked the same.

She wanted to redeem herself. She wanted to cover up her memory of being laughed at by her friends with something special and she desperately hid her wound.

He opened his mouth as he looked at her and said, "And now, you're writing again."

Once again, she had a pen in her hand. 'How did she come to decide to join the Literature Club?'

"I met Bom. She's good with compliments. She tells me something positive no matter what I do. Whenever she is around, I feel safe to write. I actually was safe too," she said.

'I see.' He understood their relationship now. A girl who's in need of compliments had met a friend who leaned on others around her. As long as she complimented Sun Hwa, Bom could stay as her friend. As long as she complimented Sun Hwa, it was OK for Bom to lean on her. Sun Hwa was like a flower that bloomed in May. It only bloomed when Bom came. (TL's note: Bom means Spring in Korean.) Then…

"That's why you're keeping her around."

"I can understand her."

At her answer, he remembered. She was supposed to be part of an essay contest with Bom. Sun Hwa had been the one who had suggested it. Whenever Bom asked her a question, she'd always answer without hesitation.

"I know what it feels like to let people walk all over you," she added.

They were similar. They were both being swayed by one another.

He looked up to the sky. A purple flower had fallen off a branch. Spring was over.

The flower's stem on a wet, lonely branch almost looked like a bud.

"What's with the long face?"

"... I have indigestion from the fried chicken I had for getting an award. No matter how much I throw it up, it doesn't go away."

She sounded like she was suppressing her feelings. She knew Bom had let her win. A person who was exceptionally talented tended to get picked on by others. For that reason, Bom would never try to surpass Sun Hwa.

"I've read her paper too. It was the day after I suggested applying to the same contest. That day, I was the first person to show up to the science room."

What she had said previously made sense. She had been in the same situation as Juho. Then, she had witnessed Bom's actual talent.

She had been swayed by others before. She had stopped writing because of the harsh criticisms of her friends. The moment she read Bom's paper, she probably realized that Bom was just like her.

Juho added, "You're the 'others' in this case."

"That's right."

"This entire time, you two were being swayed by each other, AND others."

Sun Hwa and Bom were not friends after all. She clenched her teeth.

"This time, I'm not going to join in with my friends when they're laughing at me. I don't want to be like the punks that looked down on me," she said. She had laughed with her friends who had been laughing at her. Then, she had stopped writing.

On the other hand, Bom had been busy studying Sun Hwa. She wouldn't dare to write sincerely. They were very much alike.

"I suggested we apply for different competitions."

From the moment they started relying on one another, they would've been apart for the first time. It was obvious how flustered Bom must have been.

"She was really flustered. She kept pretending that she didn't understand me, so I had to be direct with her."

"What did you say to her?"

"To choose for herself."

That's why there had been tension between the two. Sun Hwa was wearing a gloomy expression, and Juho said, "You did the right thing."

Regardless of the result, she had tried to be brave. She had tried to change, but it wasn't easy. Juho knew better than anybody else how difficult it was to change. Only, he thought it would've been better if Sun Hwa had been more honest with Bom, 'I want to be friends with you.'

Her nose turned red.

"What if Bom doesn't like me anymore?"

Her voice trembled.

She may have been brave, but after all that, she was still a high school student. It would've been challenging for her to handle a friendship that had gone sour. It must have been the same for Bom. When it came down to it, they were alike and in the same year.

'Is there nothing I can do?'

He raised his hand as he took out a notebook from his pocket. He had been forgetting about it for a moment. Then, he swung his hand and slapped Sun Hwa's back.

She snapped her head up to the sky.

"OW!"

"Wuss."

"What'd you call me punk!?"

He added as she fumed with anger, "Isn't this what you wanted?"

Just like that, she rubbed her back, which was throbbing in pain. He was right. Frankly, he wanted to do what he had just done to her to Bom. 'Stop being a wuss, and keep moving forward. Don't think about what others think of you. What are you afraid of? Face it head on.'

However, he couldn't say that to Bom when Sun Hwa was afraid of it herself. She wasn't in the position to be able to tell Bom what to do.

"Can I do it?"

"Ask yourself."

Sun Hwa hesitated and then clenched her hand into a fist.

"If I ask for help now, would I be relying on others still? Would I be repeating what I've been doing?" she asked.

Juho answered with a smile, "Then let's try this."

"What?"

"I'll help you before you ask for help."

After a brief silence, Sun Hwa asked, "Why?"

There was raw emotion in her voice, and Juho answered her, "I want us to have a drink together when we're older."

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52 Chapter 52 - Myself, Others, and My Friend 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl After the conversation with Sun Hwa, Juho returned to class. He had brought his half-empty bottle with him. After finishing what was left in the bottle, he went onto chat with Seo Kwang as usual and then went out to the hallway to take out the trash. As he walked through the empty hall with an empty bottle in his hand, he saw a familiar figure standing in front of the trash can. It was Bom. She was standing with an empty bag of chips in her hand, and she threw it into the trash can without a thought, not even bothering to separate the recyclables. Juho said, "That should go in the other can." Bom jumped in her place. If she were to receive help from others, she would have to maintain her image of an innocent, timid girl. So, she seemed nervous to be caught at a vulnerable moment. Juho pretended to have not seen her. "It is confusing, especially things like plastic." "Y-yeah. Are you here to take out the trash too?" "Yep." It was an obvious question, and he answered her by tossing the empty bottle into the trash can. "Did you eat all that?" There were crumbs from different snacks. It seemed like a lot for her to be able to eat on her own. "No. We all shared." "But how come you're the only person who's bringing all the trash? It was quite a bit." "It's more convenient that way." "Sure, whatever you say," Juho answered. Then, just as he did with Sun Hwa, he opened his big mouth, "I read your paper. I'm sorry I did it without your permission." "Huh?" She was flustered, but she didn't spit out liquid from her mouth like Sun Hwa had done. Bom blinked awkwardly for a brief moment and then continued with a smile, "That's OK. It doesn't matter." "You don't seem angry." She wasn't angry. She didn't seem to have taken offense, not one bit. "It's nothing to be angry over." "Good to hear. Well, you're a good writer." "Are you sure? I didn't feel very confident." At his compliment, she backed off as usual. "Sun Hwa's paper was good too, but I liked your descriptions in particular." "I see. Um… Should we get going? The bell's about to ring any minute now," she quickly changed the subject in case Juho was saying that her paper was better than Sun Hwa's. A talented person tended to be the target of envy and jealousy. Juho said, "I'm a good writer myself." "Huh?" As if she didn't understand him, she looked up to his face. "What I'm saying is that you don't have to worry about me being jealous of your skills. I'm a good writer myself." "You're brimming with confidence, aren't you?" "Did I sound like Sun Hwa?" "A little bit," Bom answered with a relieved look. "Do you have time on the weekends?" "Why do you ask?" "I wanted to shop for some clothes, but I don't know the trends." "Clothes? Um… I don't really know what guys like either…" "I'll call Sun Hwa too." "..." She hesitated, and he asked her, "Did you guys fight?" "No. I've never fought with her. Not once." "Then, what's the problem? I'll help if there is one." Her face brightened up at the word 'help.' She still wanted her relationship with Sun Hwa to return to how it was before. "OK…" she finally accepted. After agreeing on a time and a place, they each went their separate ways. --- "I'm here." That day, while waiting at a bus stop, Juho waved his hands at the familiar figure in the distance. Though she wasn't late, she started running as soon as she realized that he'd beat her to it. She looked guilty as if making a person wait for her was a grave sin. "I'm sorry, I thought I was early." "It's fine, you're not even late." "Still. Have you been waiting a long time?" "Eh, maybe five minutes?" "I'm sorry." She kept apologizing. By then, he thought it would be good to change the subject. The longer they talked about that, the more she was going to apologize. "The bus is coming." "Yeah, but where's Sun Hwa?" she asked about her as she looked around. "She's not here," Juho said calmly. At his response, Bom stopped looking around and gave him a flabbergasted look. "...What?" "She said she'd give me a call when she was done shopping. Didn't I tell you?" "But… I know nothing about fashion trends…" "That's fine. It's my clothes, so I'll make the decisions. I'll just ask for your opinion from time to time." The two got on the bus and sat next to each other in the back. It headed downtown. From the time the bus took off and even after it had driven past several stops, the two didn't say anything to each other. Juho cracked opened the window, and a gust of wind rushed in. As he watched the passing scenery, he said, "So, when you shop for clothes…" "Yeah?" She had been sitting quietly until he suddenly started talking and she sat up at once to listen to him. He continued as he looked ahead, "Do you tend to buy what you like or what suits you?" "Me? Um… probably the latter?" She didn't sound confident in her answer, and he asked her why. She hesitated while studying his face. Bom seemed anxious about their opinions not lining up. "Well… if I buy clothes that suit me, I don't have to worry about regretting my decision later." "Do you usually regret if you end up buying clothes that you like? "Not necessarily, but if they don't suit me, it'd be embarrassing if somebody pointed it out to me." "So, you give up on the clothes that you like?" "Is that how it works? I'm not sure anymore." He whispered as he kept his eyes on the passing scenery, "I think you'll always regret something, no matter what." "I see." "Still, it's human nature to want to prevent it from happening." "Yeah, I agree. I hate it." Having been hesitant so far, she nodded. Their conversation stopped for a brief moment, and he turned his head towards the window. Nobody wanted to regret. Yet, everyone had regrets at some point. Before long, one's body would start to tense up as soon as they thought about their regret. Fear had always been lurking just below the surface, telling that they would never reach a favorable outcome no matter what they did. Writing was just the same way. 'Maybe that one vocabulary could've been better.' 'Wouldn't this sentence get in the way of the flow?' 'Wouldn't it have been better altogether if I had written it from a different perspective with a different protagonist? Wouldn't it have been better if another writer had written about the same thing?' As soon as those thoughts entered a writer's mind, he wouldn't be able to write a single word and he would develop a sudden urge to hand over his pen to another person. Yet, he couldn't let go. So, the only thing left to do was… "Next stop…" a voice came from the speaker within the bus. Then, suddenly, the bus shook as it went over a bump. "Well, in that case, I guess there's no point in worrying ahead of time." "What do you mean?" "Your clothes. I was worried if I'd know what I was picking." "I think you'll do fine too." Bom smiled at Juho agreeing with her. He had already gotten used to her smile. She was the only person who responded in such friendly manner. If he had been with Sun Hwa or Seo Kwang, they would've sneered at him. "Let's get off the bus." The two arrived at the shopping district. Countless clothing stores were lined up on the street, one after another. There were also a lot of people walking through the district. Everyone had to have been out for the weekend. When Juho and Bom were jostled into a random clothing store, there weren't nearly as many people. Though it might not have been a good thing for the shop owner, it was good for the them because it would allow them to shop in peace. Inside, Juho slowly looked around the the store. The entire place was covered in clothes. From the counter, the owner who looked to be middle-age said with her nasally voice, "Please let me know if you need any help." As he looked around the T-shirt section, he picked out a shirt and held it in front of himself. "How does this look?" "Hm, it looks good," she answered with a smile. Then, he picked up another shirt next to it and asked, "What about this one?" "Yeah, that too." "How about… this one?" "Th-that one looks good too." She'd never say it with her own lips if a shirt didn't suit him. So, he said with a slightly concerned tone of voice, "I can't possibly afford all these T-shirts." "I don't know too much about fashion… I'm sorry." Juho had heard her say that several times now. Still, he didn't stop asking for her opinion. Inevitably, the amount of time spent in the shop was getting longer. Red, blue, green, white, and black, even when he had picked a shirt with bizarre patterns, her answers had always been positive. It wasn't completely unexpected. He asked, "Are you getting tired?" "No, I'm doing OK." "Well, I am." Bom became flustered at his words, and Juho continued, "Still, I don't want to live butt naked, so I guess I'll just have to suck it up. I'll just have to pick something." With those words, he looked at the two shirts in his hands. Whether he liked them or not, he had to wear something. Soon, he took both shirts and hung them back where they had been. Bom gave him a confused look. She had been expecting him to pick one of the two. "Ma'am," he called for the owner, and she quickly walked toward him in short steps. "How can I help you?" "I would like to take a look at the red hat over there." "A hat?" Bom whispered curiously. The three looked up simultaneously. There was a hat hanging from the ceiling. It was as red as the tip of Sun Hwa's nose when she had that personal conversation with Juho. The owner took the hat out with a hook and lowered it to Juho. He stood in front of a mirror and tried it on. "What do you think?" "Um… Hm." Bom contemplated while looking at his back. Frankly, it looked quite tacky, but there was no way she could've said that out loud. Finally, as she gathered up the courage to speak her mind, the owner said, "Oh my! Young man, even my husband wouldn't wear that. Pick something else. I'll give you a discount." "Really? How come?" "It looks like you smothered it with red pepper paste!" "Haha!" he laughed off her joke peacefully. Meanwhile, Bom questioned in her mind if the owner was intending on even selling the hat, 'How could she describe something she was selling as something like red pepper paste?' What was more surprising, was Juho's response to it. "I'll take this one. Could you give me a decent price on it?" "Goodness, you mean it? Why don't you try the pink one before you make up your mind?" "I'll take this." "OK, if you say so. I know the color's a little funky, but the hat's still made of decent material. I'll give you a good deal." "Thank you very much." The owner had changed her tone already. Perhaps, she didn't want her customer to regret his decision after he walked out of the store. Bom didn't say anything while Juho was paying for the hat. After he put the hat on, they walked out the store together. "How do I look?" "Huh?" "Does it suit my style?" "Um… Yeah." Even though she gave him a positive answer, it was obvious that she hadn't meant it. Yet, she couldn't stop herself from speaking affirming words. It had already become a habit. "You can't be serious. This looks tacky as heck, even for my eyes." "Then, don't ask." She was taken aback by the words that she had just blurted out. She had spoken out of annoyance before she even had time to think. It could have been that she was growing tired of series of questions Juho had been asking her. 'I shouldn't have done that. What do I do now?' She looked at him anxiously. "Should we get some ice cream?" he said. He didn't even mind.

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53 Chapter 53 - Myself, Others, and My Friend 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Do you want to go get some ice cream?" Juho asked. Though Bom had nodded on impulse. Internally, she felt relieved. There were a lot of people on the street, and it was quite busy. His calm answer had also given her the impression that he hadn't caught onto her annoyance. Juho went into a convenience store to buy ice creams and said, "I wanted to make it up to you for annoying you earlier." He had heard her. Without a word, she dropped her head. She had shown her bad side again. 'I can't keep doing this,' she thought. She started to feel nauseous again. Despite his peaceful look, it was a lot harder for her to keep calm around him for some reason. "What's wrong?" "I'm feeling a little dizzy. Maybe there are too many people around." "Then, we should go somewhere quieter." "OK." There had been nothing but lies whenever she opened her mouth, so she clogged her mouth with her ice cream. Its sweetness spread through her tongue. By the time they finished their ice cream, they reached a playground, and Juho pointed toward it. "Should we take a five?" he said. "Sure. It's been a while since I've been to a playground." They each sat on a swing. Compared to Bom, who was barely moving, Juho was swinging himself back and forth. Her head turned left and right as it tracked him. Whenever he swung past her, a wind blew by. "You're good," she complimented him. Again, it was out of habit. "You can be too, if you move your feet a little more." She only smiled. "You want to, huh?" he asked. "No, I'm fine." A wind blew. It felt warmer this time. It had felt like spring not too long ago, but "spring" really was weak. (TL's note: again, "Bom" means spring.) Bom looked at Juho. Frankly, she had been curious as to why he had wanted her to come along. If he had wanted to go shopping for clothes, it would've been better to bring Seo Kwang or Baron along. There had to be a reason for bringing her of all people. There had to be a reason as to why he even brought up Sun Hwa. He gradually slowed down until he eventually stopped swinging. As soon as he opened his mouth, Bom felt something. That air, it almost felt like something was coming to an end, like a season. "You have a competition that you want to be part of, right?" he said calmly. "You wanted to transcribe a different book too." With his relaxed voice, he was bringing spring to an end. "You could've done a lot better in the school essay contest, and I know you don't want to be the one who cleans up other people's trash," he added as he looked at Bom wearing a stiff expression. "And I know how ridiculous this hat looks." 'He's sharp,' she thought. Because she cared so much about what other people thought of her, she was able to catch on quickly. He had already figured her out and he must have figured out the awkward distance between her and Sun Hwa. For that reason, she decided to confess. "I'm used to it," she said with a rather calm voice. "What are you used to?" "Not doing what I want." She was used to being self-conscious and picking up trash that others had left. "I don't really have a reason. It's just… I saw the adults, and I saw how this world operated. Eventually, I came to think that others were more important than myself. I'm weak, so I wouldn't be able to survive if I were to be left alone. So naturally, I've been relying on others around me." She smiled as if she were mocking herself, then she added, "Have you read a book called 'The Trace of a Bird?'" He nodded slowly. "The protagonist is afraid of the birds, so he hides himself in the dark, into the night. He gives up being in the sun and opens his eyes at night when there are no birds around." Her expression grew darker. She seemed like she was reminiscing about something. "I felt terrified. It's a scary book. It reminded me of how cruel a choice can be. I have neither the courage to live through the night nor the will to overcome my fears. I don't have what it takes." To make a choice also meant giving something up. By choosing to rely on others, she had given up on her own preferences. Then, he thought about what she had given up by choosing to run away. He thought of the purple flower he had seen at the school some time before - Bom and Sun Hwa. "You chose to be a stranger to Sun Hwa." "... I wasn't intending to." They were not friends. They had been using each other like tools. It was easy to treat someone as if they were not a person. All Bom had to do to overcome that was think about herself again. Although a person might have a chance of making friends with animals, she couldn't do that with tools. After all, a tool's only purpose was to be used. If it lost its use, it had to be thrown out. Most likely, they were both unaware of the meaning behind the choices they had made. "But look at how things turned out in the end. Running away is a choice, which means choosing to rely on others is also a choice. In the end, you're responsible for the choices you make." Now, Juho was there to help her. If she didn't have the courage or will to survive, all she had to do was borrow it from someone, like an inspiration. After all, people weren't made to live in solitude. Bom said with a depressed look, "Why must I do that? I just want to be left alone." "Because it's your life. No one can live your life for you, not even Mr. Moon." Bom bit her lips. Then, she answered with a suppressed voice, "I'm afraid of prioritizing myself over others, but at the same time, I only care about myself." There was an opening. A warm wind blew past them, and Juho opened his mouth. "Every story has an end, just like 'The Trace of a Bird.'" The ending of 'The Trace of a Bird' had room for interpretation. Depending on the reader, it could have been an ending that was either sad or happy. Bom had asked why she had to make a choice. "Sun Hwa's transferring." Bom's mouth dropped open, and for a while, no sound came out of it. 'When? Are you serious? She said that? Why? Where? Is she going far? She's leaving me behind?' These were probably her thoughts. "Actually, I lied," he said without taking his eyes off of Bom's expression. "What?" "It's a lie. Sun Hwa's not transferring," he said calmly. "Why?" she asked. "Why did you lie to me like that?" "What did you think just now?" he answered her with another question. Her eyes were shaken, and there were lingering thoughts in her head. Judging from her behavior so far, he was able to speculate a possible answer, 'Do I have to find another person? Do I have to find a replacement for Sun Hwa? Do I have to find another person to depend on who will make decisions for me and help me when I'm in a rut?' Her pale expression made it obvious to him. "How much longer are you planning on being swayed by others?" He had said the same thing to Sun Hwa. "Are you going to repeat that?" "I don't know. I don't know anymore." She seemed exhausted, and he added, "You still have to choose if you don't want to be stripped naked." "... What would you do?" He looked up to the sky for a moment. It was still clear and it would be a while until that day came to an end. Just like he had done with Sun Hwa, he said to her, "Ask yourself." She dropped her head, but he added as if he were comforting her, "If you want to be left alone as you are at the moment, that's fine. That's your choice too. I'm not going to tell you anything. I won't dislike you either. You'll probably stay a stranger to Sun Hwa, but hey, I can be your friend. You'd be catching two birds with one stone! Someone to depend on, and a friend. Doesn't that sound good?" Instead of an answer, she bit down on her lip. For some reason, she couldn't give him an answer. Juho had made a tempting offer. One where she wouldn't have to change a thing about herself. At the same time, she would get to be friends with him. There would be nothing more. Yet, her eyes met with his red hat. It was tacky. It looked ridiculous enough to make her laugh. 'How did he manage to find a hat like that?' "No." She disliked herself being swayed by what Juho had been saying. She disliked herself for choosing to be a stranger to Sun Hwa. She disliked herself for depending on others just to get by. She wanted to leave it all behind. "Why?" Juho asked. She answered, "Because I still want to be friends with Sun Hwa." "What are you giving up this time?" he asked again. If that was going to be her choice, she had to be responsible for it. The wind blew again. It was still warm, like the air that was coming out Bom's mouth. "You can't replace friends." At those words, Juho smiled quietly. Spring had ended. Though she was sad, she didn't cry. After all, spring always came around. Everyone knew it. He nodded as he checked the time. "Now, should we go see Sun Hwa?" She stood up from the swing, and it swung on its own. "I want to write a letter." "So be it," he answered. She rushed to a stationery store and bought some letter paper and a pen. When Juho saw the heading "To Sun Hwa," he turned his eyes up to the sky. 'This is a matter between her and Sun Hwa. It'd be tactless of me to intervene any further.' The kids in the neighborhood glanced over at Bom as she wrote her letter while squatting on the playground. She paid them no attention. Juho took his notepad out of his pocket. He had been expecting a day like that and had known that it wouldn't be difficult for Sun Hwa and Bom to be actual friends. After all, he had met them in the Literature Club. As he thought, he wrote down a sentence on the notepad. "A piece of writing writes itself." * After receiving a call from Juho, Sun Hwa walked into a neighborhood cafe. It was a familiar place, but she had never been inside. It had a warm atmosphere, and she sat by the window and ordered a drink. After a brief moment waiting, a hot cup of tea had made its way onto her table. Having preferred colder drinks, she would have never ordered hot tea on her own. Though the weather wasn't very cold, the tea warmed her hands as she held cup. Her cold hands proved that she was nervous. "Sigh," she sighed deeply. Soon, Juho would bring Bom to the cafe. The bell rang as the door opened, and she heard the conversation between the two people. "It's warm out. Spring's finally over." "How time flies." They sounded like they were close with one another. Those two have brought along a word that Sun Hwa has been anxiously waiting for: "Bom." Bom had always been lowering herself. She had done it at the essay contest. Thanks to her, Sun Hwa had been able to receive the award. She hadn't said anything. That was why she had been hanging around Bom. To her, it had been only fair that she had gotten the award while others lacked in their skills. Her and her peers had always been raised and taught that way. It had been common sense to prioritize results. As she always had, Sun Hwa comforted herself as she focused on the result. In the end, she had come a lot farther than she was aware. In her stomach, the fried chicken she had had as an awardee had been growing in size. It had latched onto her, and had not come out. After the conversation with Juho under the tree, she had revisited her paper. She had been pretending not to see what she saw and not to know what she knew. It was filled with stupidity. There was not one bit of sincerity. In other words, when he had complimented her paper, Juho had been sugarcoating his words. "Fun and wild, huh."

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54 Chapter 54 - Myself, Others, and My Friend 4

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

"Juho Woo, that oddball," Sun Hwa thought out loud about the person in her mind.

Whenever she thought of him, the first thing that came to mind was his droopy face. Whatever happened, he'd always be the only calm person. He was weird. It was hard to picture him being startled by something. Whenever she looked at him, she felt sorry for her cowardly self.

Sun Hwa held back her smirk.

The way he spoke was very much like his character - calm and unfazed, and their recent conversation had left her feeling vulnerable.

As she looked out the window, she saw Bom walking toward the cafe. 'What if she doesn't like me?' she thought anxiously. It would have been a lie to say that she wasn't afraid.

Still, there was nothing to regret.

As Sun Hwa greeted her, she found herself smiling before she even realized. No matter the result, Sun Hwa was able to smile.

*

Juho visited Sun Hwa in her class to return the comic book he had borrowed from her some time ago.

"Hey, this one's good too. I love his illustration. I really dig it"

"Oh, yeah! I've read that one. I'm a fan too."

He hesitated as he was about to call for her. She was in the middle of a conversation with someone he had never met before. However, he had seen her once when he had come to visit Sun Hwa. She had been sitting in the corner, on her own.

She had been reading her comic books then, so it made sense that they were talking to each other.

"I actually didn't like it that much. I think this one's closer to my preferences," Bom said as she picked out one of the comic books. At that, Sun Hwa and the girl objected to her, "You'll change your mind once you read it. I feel sorry that you can't truly appreciate a masterpiece like this. Later, you're going to think back and regret saying what you just said."

Together, the three were laughing and joking around with one another.

'If I chimed in now, I'd be interrupting.'

They were doing well, so he turned back light-footed.

Sun Hwa and Bom had been close with one another as in the past. As always, Bom was the first person to start cleaning while Sun Hwa was the first person to act on something.

Also, they had agreed to participate in different competitions.

According to Bom, after meeting with Sun Hwa at the cafe, she had received a written reply from her. Aside from the two, nobody else knew what was written in that response.

Juho took out his notepad as he walked down the hallway. One by one, he wrote down his newly aroused inspiration for a couple of characters for his story.

'Spring and flower gently fell into a world where there was no one but parents and children.'

Juho leaned against the side of the subway doors and saw a rather large body of water among views that quickly passed by. He stared out the window at the Han River, which resembled a large, gaping hole. He thought as he watched the wavelets breaking, 'Was that around where I drowned?'

"The doors will open on your right."

People got in and out of the subway, and Juho moved aside to let people through.

It was his first time seeing the Han River since he had drowned. He wasn't afraid of the water necessarily, but he didn't want to go out of his way to look at it either.

'Why am I here when I've drowned already?' He didn't want to know the answer to that question. If he found out, he wouldn't be able to imagine, and if he couldn't imagine, he wouldn't be able to write.

He reminisced about the experience on that day. Starting from his head, his body grew colder and colder. He had started to suffocate and he couldn't see anything. His limbs grew heavier as the current coiled around his entire body. It felt like he was being pulled down.

"Next stop is…"

It was his stop. He checked the time. There was still some time left until his appointment. After he walked out of the subway station and passed the bike rentals, a field of grass met his eyes.

While walking through the lawn, he made his way toward the water. There were people fishing, riding their bicycles and walking casually with their dogs. He saw the water. He walked toward it with his eyes transfixed.

He went down to the rock where the ground met the water.

A wave was breaking, and the wind was blowing gently. The water smelled slightly fishy.

He sat on the rock and reached for the water. Its coldness clung to his hand.

"I guess it's because it's still daytime."

Strangely, he didn't feel anything. Because he didn't know how to swim, he had a natural wariness toward rivers and oceans and would normally feel uneasy whenever he saw deep bodies of water.

Now, things were different. He still didn't know how to swim, but he was not afraid, even as he stared into the dark depths of the river. If anything, he felt more adventurous.

He dipped his hand deeper into the water. Better yet, he wanted to try going into the water. He felt like there was something violent at the end of death and rebirth.

He dipped his hand even deeper.

"Watch out!"

Somebody pulled him back from behind. Juho's wet hand had been dragged out of the water, and he looked up to see a rigid face.

"Dong Gil."

"I don't think this is where we agreed to meet."

"I got here early, so I was killing some time."

"Were you looking to dive or something?"

"No way."

Juho slowly got up, shaking off his hands. As he looked at Juho intently, Dong Gil asked, "Did you want to ride on the duck boat?"

"Duck boat? That's random. What made you want to get on that?"

He slowly lifted his hand and pointed at something.

"You seemed like you really wanted to go in that direction."

It was the center of the river. After staring intently at the water, Juho shook his head.

'I want to live for now.'

"It'd be pushing it with a duck boat."

"Don't you underestimate my legs."

With those confident words, Dong Gil turned around and walked further away from the water. Juho followed. He felt his hand getting stiffer as it dried up.

It wasn't a special occasion. Since their meeting, the two had been texting one another frequently. One day, one of them suggested that they meet up to talk and kill some time together, and Juho had no reason to say no.

The two walked up to the observatory where the entire field of grass could be seen.

Although it was slightly windy, a screen was there to protect them from it. The sound of a clumsily played piano was coming from afar. There must have been a piano that was open to the public use.

"Do you play?"

Dong Gil had written a book about music once, and he gave off the impression that he knew how to play an instrument.

"Nope," a quick answer. "Instead, I listened to it day and night. I turned the music on the moment I opened my eyes and then turned it off when I was about to go to sleep. I kept it playing while I was eating or showering. The entire writing process took me about eight months, and I listened to classical music the entire time. It felt like I had listened to my entire life's worth of music. Whenever I had a dream, the sound of violin came out instead of my voice."

Despite the content, he sounded quite calm. Unlike him, Juho asked with a disturbed look on his face, "What did that feel like?"

"It felt like I had been eating the same thing for a year."

"I've never tried that myself, but I think I get the gist."

In other words, he was sick of it.

Every author had a character that was similar to Dong Gil's. No matter what people told them, they had to see things for themselves. They wouldn't start writing unless they had identified things with their own eyes and understood what they had seen.

Dong Gil was especially unique even among authors.

Usually, an author would gather just enough information for his book. No one went to the lengths of making themselves feel like they had been eating the same food for the entire year.

He really didn't know his limits.

"I think that was when I was the biggest jerk in my life."

"I'm surprised you're still sane."

"I wanted to write well."

He sounded like a student who had just started writing. In reality, that was also something frequently said by the Literature Club members: "I want to write well."

'Coming to think of it, that must have been why I went up to the bridge in the middle of winter before I fell into the water. I wanted to write well,' Juho thought.

"Look," Dong Gil called for Juho as he was lost in thought.

"What is it?"

At his voice, he walked toward the handrail. When he was one step away from reaching the rail, he was met with the wide, open view of the grass.

People about the size of the joints on his finger were sitting beside one another. Some had brought a mat while some had brought something to shield themselves from the wind. Some sat on flyers. There were all sorts of people.

"This."

It was like a painting, but it wasn't because of its beauty.

"There's no movement."

Nobody was moving. As if time had stopped, everything stayed completely still in its place. It was as if somebody had frozen them. Maybe they had all agreed with one another to be that way. If it weren't for the leaves blowing about in the wind, one could've believed that something was seriously wrong with the world.

"This is unusual."

"I know. It's incredibly lifeless."

It would've been nice to have people around playing badminton or kindergarten students on their class picnic.

Everyone was motionless and exhausted.

Juho looked to his side. Dong Gil was watching the motionless scenery as if that wasn't his first time.

"When did you first see this?"

To answer his question, Dong Gil slowly parted his lips, "I was out for a walk to see if I could find anything interesting in amid the average, boring everyday life. I was looking for some inspiration."

"Is there a 'but' coming?"

"But then this was all I saw instead of finding anything interesting. Well, it has become a form of inspiration in its own right since, but I wasn't exactly thrilled about what I saw. It's almost as if these people have been told to stay completely still."

He was right. It wasn't a pleasing sight. Despite the number of people around, the lawn was almost too quiet. The silence in the lawn brought Juho a sense of physiological fear. It was unsettling, and Dong Gil added, "If I were God himself, I'd pour water onto these people."

"On these people?"

"At least it'd make them jump from their places. Besides, it'd look much more entertaining."

Juho imagined it. 'There's a natural disaster. Water levels rise, and it floods over to the people. Still… I can't really picture these people running and screaming. Wouldn't they just be swept away quietly?'

"The water bill would be monstrous."

"Well, I'd just have to reimburse them."

As they joked around, a sound came from behind. When Juho glanced over his shoulder, he saw a foreigner. His blue eyes were fixated in Juho's direction. They were as blue as the East Sea.

As their eyes met, the foreigner approached him.

"I ask for direction," he said in awkward Korean, with a guide book in his hands.

"Where were you going?" Juho responded in Korean.

"Um, uh… Here."

He opened his guide book and showed it to Juho. It was a picture of the duck boats, and Juho explained to him how he could get there, but he didn't seem to understand.

"Would you like for me to explain in English?" Juho asked in English. His face brightened up at the sound of his native tongue.

"Ah, that'd be great. I've been lost for a while now. I've gone straight and then turned left like how it is in the guide book, but as you can see, I'm still lost."

"You have to turn right here."

"Oh my, I've gone the opposite direction."

"It's not too far from here. When you walk down from here, walk toward the water. You'll get there in no time."

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55 Chapter 55 - Seo Joong, During a Hot Summer Day 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Juho told him the directions as he pointed toward the water visible from the observatory. The man nodded as if he had understood it better. After thanking Juho, he disappeared into the motionless scenery. Juho prayed that he would reach the duck boats safely. He felt Dong Gil staring daggers at him from the side. "Your English is good. Your directions were very accurate," Dong Gil said with a surprised look. He must have understood their conversation. "Why didn't you join in?" "You were doing just fine, so I just watched." "I'm really interested in languages." "Have you lived in another country?" "I've never been outside Korea." "Yet, you're still fluent enough to speak naturally with a foreigner." Dong Gil looked at him intently. "What?" Juho asked. He answered with a squint, "I was wondering if our genius author himself was also a talented linguist." It was apparent that he was joking. However, that was not the case at all. Juho had gained that strange, yet useful ability after having drowned in the river. 'The river.' For some reason, what Dong Gil said earlier lingered in his ears, 'If I were God, I would pour water onto these people.' He looked up at the sky. Clouds were floating by. 'Could it have been a washing fee of sorts?' he thought and answered Dong Gil with a smile while he looked at him, "Of course. People don't call me a genius for no reason." "Shameless, too." As they joked around, Dong Gil remembered some news he had heard, 'A genius. There was another genius around him.' "Mr. Ahn's book is coming out soon, right?" "Yep." "It's been five years since his last book, I believe." Seo Joong Ahn was a bestselling author who had written several major works. He was also a close friend of Dong Gil. He had a very sensuous style. Yet, he hadn't written anything for the past five years for some reason. Every writer had their own pace, but he usually didn't leave too much time between books. "Has he been traveling?" "Nope. He's been home." "Is that so…" Noticing that the air felt slightly heavier, he changed the subject, "You said he likes to wear things that are comfortable, right?" "He has a underdeveloped sense of fashion." Juho remembered hearing the same description in the past. Unlike Dong Gil who was all about looking presentable, Seo Joong was the complete opposite. "On the contrary, you're very strict about what you wear." "It's common sense. You have to be mindful of what you're wearing when you're meeting someone." At that, he began his lecture on attire. Though Juho did his best to pretend to listen to him, the history of fashion wasn't all that interesting. His rigid expression and speech made Juho feel like he was in a strict lecture environment. It almost felt like he'd gotten to experience Sung Pil's description of his lecture firsthand. His style was definitely clean cut and not overbearing, but Juho wondered how his sense of fashion translated to his style as a lecturer. 'Buzz.' Thankfully, somebody's phone rang. Juho brought his hand to his pocket, but he didn't feel it vibrate. It was Dong Gil's. As if unhappy about the conversation being interrupted, he picked up the phone with annoyance. When he saw the name on the screen, his expression grew even darker, and he answered it. "What?" At that word alone, Juho immediately guessed who was on the line. 'Speak of the devil.' "Yes, I'm busy. I'm in the middle of…" As he was about to end the call in a rush, he suddenly turned to Juho. While he looked back at Dong Gil, he pulled the phone away from his ear and asked, "Would you like to talk to Seo Joong?" His suggestion was sudden, so Juho thought about it for a brief moment. Seo Joong Ahn. First book in five years. He was known as a genius among those of his generations. Juho was curious about him, so he nodded willingly. At his response, Dong Gil immediately brought up Juho's name. "I'm with Yun Woo right now." There was commotion on the other line, and it was hard to make out what was being said. "Yeah, alright," Dong Gil answered half-heartedly. "Yeah, to your place?" He pulled away from the phone with a displeased look. "He wants to know if you can head over. If that's too much for you, we can just keep it as a phone call." It would've been natural to feel uncomfortable about being invited to someone's house without having met the person first. However, Juho himself was not a timid character. If anything, he looked forward to it, Seo Joong Ahn's house. As Seo Kwang had said previously, 'A person always leaves behind a trace.' "I'm up for that." "All right, we're on our way." With those words, he hung up the phone. Juho had been running into more and more people he had never met in the past. He walked down the observatory with Dong Gil toward the motionless people. When he approached them, he heard them talking to one another, and it felt slightly different from what he had seen from the observatory. "What's his place like?" he asked. Dong Gil answered without hesitation, "I suffocate the minute I step my foot across his door." "My expectations are through the roof." "Trust me, it'll be beyond what you can expect." 'I wonder what's making him say things like that.' Seo Joong was probably the only person in the world who could have such an impact on Dong Gil. Soon, they arrived at a neighborhood. There were colorful murals in brown, blue, orange and gray. While following Dong Gil's guidance, he was met by some elderly sitting on a low wooden bench. There was some construction work in one corner and a cat and a pigeon in the other. Then, another set of murals met his eyes. There were windows on the wall. The murals painted throughout the neighborhood walls gave off a rather artistic atmosphere. At the end of the alleyway, there was a stairway. The stairs were painted like the walls with paint. That time, it was a painting of a person in a blue sweatshirt and pants, sitting on a giant flower. Juho caught on at once, 'He must be Seo Joong Ahn.' "Yo." A man waved as he stood up from the stairs. His untidy appearance resembled a neighborhood bum. The reason why Dong Gil was so annoyed about the way he dressed became clearer. His hair was spiking in all directions. With his eyes on that hair, Juho greeted him, "Hello." "Hey! Oh, wait! Is it OK to be informal? Nice to meet ya!" His words were all over the place. "Please, you don't have to be so polite." "Awesome! Make yourself at home. You don't have to worry about being polite either just because I'm older." Compared to his first encounter with Dong Gil, that was the completely opposite experience. At first, Dong Gil had addressed Juho with formality, and he had spoken respectfully. On the other hand, his friend Seo Joong was welcoming Juho, who was much younger, to not bother with formality. "This is fine." Juho had considered Seo Joong's offer, but he didn't want to be disrespectful in their first encounter. "Alright, then." Seo Joong didn't push Juho. He turned around and led the way. His house was located further into the neighborhood. Compared to the alleyways Juho had walked through so far, the streets were a lot cleaner. Soon, he was met with a two-story house with a large front gate. Seo Joong stopped in front of it. "My landlord lives on the first floor." "I see." "She might be rough around the edges, but her favorite color is pink," he told Juho as he opened the gate. After walking past a small yard, he was met with an old , average looking house. "Wow!" Juho exclaimed. The front yard of that not-so-special looking house was filled with flowers of all colors and shapes. Even the pots were of different colors. The mysterious flowers showed off their beauty, and a brown clay pot shone from the sunlight while the fresh, green leaves and flowers exhaled their fragrance. They glistened from tiny water droplets. The place was full of life. He thought back to the scenery at the observatory. This was completely different. It was as though the plants were smiling at him. "It's a nice house, isn't it?" "Yes," Juho answered without hesitation. "There's something even better inside." Juho's experience was quite different from Dong Gil's description of his friend's house. After looking around the yard for a little while, Juho followed Seo Joong up the floor. As Seo Joong opened the door, he moved aside to let Juho and Dong Gil through. When Juho walked inside, he was somewhat dumbfounded by the sight of the living room. "Ta-da!" "I swear… How do you keep something like this around? I don't get it…" Dong Gil grumbled as Seo Joong proudly showed off his house. Meanwhile, Juho thought, 'Why is this here?' "It's a pool table." "Isn't it great?" Aside the pool table in the middle of the living room, there were no couches or TV. He had a full-size pool table in his house. 'Who would have thought?' The blue surface of the table matched Seo Joong's clothes. "So, how are your skills in pool?" With a smile, Seo Joong answered, "About average." His house's appearance gave him the impression of a professional pool player. "I didn't get to get better at pool." "Then?" "It's a hobby of mine. It's a way for me to put my mind to rest. Black bean noodles taste even better on this table." (TL's note: black bean noodles are a staple delivery food in pool halls in Korea.) Black bean noodles. Juho couldn't help but chuckle, and Seo Joong picked up a ball from the pool table. "A lot of people think that an author's house is filled with books. You know what, it's not entirely wrong. This guy's house is filled with nothing but books." Dong Gil sneered at Seo Joong, "I don't play pool in my home, so I don't have to worry about wasting space like this." "What do you mean waste? It's utilization." "It's taking up so much space that your guests don't even have a place to sit. I don't think I need to explain myself further." Like he said, a large pool table was at the center of the living room. With a shrug, Seo Joong took them to another room. It was a study, and there were three chairs surrounding a small table. There was nothing special about the room in the sense that there was a desk and bookshelves surrounding the space. Except... "I don't see too many books on your shelves." There were hardly any books. The bookshelves that surrounded the room were nearly empty. It almost felt like the shelves were merely taking up space. "Is this also a way to utilize space?" "You bet. See? He gets it," he answered enthusiastically. Dong Gil added, "Whenever he has time, he goes to any used book store he can find and sells all of his books." Though he didn't entirely sound critical, he didn't sound happy either. "Hey, I'm selling my own books. I don't see anything wrong there," Seo Joong said as he stood in front of a shelf. "I'm making room for the books that I'm going to be reading in the future. If you were the new book, wouldn't you feel sad that you didn't have your place on the shelf?" In that case, how tragic would it be to be the books that he had sold? For some reason, his nearly empty bookshelves resembled his pool table. A pool table had holes in its corners too, much like the bookshelves in Seo Joong's study.

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56 Chapter 56 - Seo Joong, During a Hot Summer Day 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Are you hungry by any chance? Should I order something?" "No, thank you. I ate before coming here." "OK, then we'll wait till dinner." After gesturing Juho to sit, he went out of the room. Soon, he brought back some iced coffee. "I enjoyed your work quite a bit," Seo Joong said as he looked at Juho with eyes filled with interest. "So, that's what you look like." At once, Dong Gil poked Seo Joong on his side with force, and Juho was impressed by how deep his finger went in. 'Clean shot,' he thought. "Do you mind? For goodness' sake, watch what you're saying. You're in your thirties now." Seo Joong couldn't say anything. He was shaking in pain while holding his side. In Juho's eyes, both of them were more or less the same. He slowly turned his eyes towards the window in the study and saw the beautiful yard he had seen on his way in. He couldn't help but keep looking at its heartwarming sight. "Huh, you're just quietly enjoying the view without even being fazed. I knew you weren't an ordinary kid." "Are you feeling better?" "It's nothing. So, I heard your real name is Juho Woo? How should I call you from now on?" he asked as he glanced at Dong Gil. "I'd prefer my real name." Seo Joong made a circle with his hands as a way of saying 'loud and clear.' He seemed to be in a good mood. "I've heard about you from Nabi too. Going out into the world right off the bat, I see." "It's hard to say. Things are still in their early stages." "You'll be fine as long as the translation is good." "That's what I'm hoping too." Seo Joong's book was doing quite well in the US. Juho thought about his book, and the first word that came to mind was 'growth.' Every character in Seo Joong's books was three-dimensional. One would say that it felt like German literature. He enjoyed writing things that enabled his readers to become emotionally invested into the protagonist. "So, where did you write 'The Trace of a Bird?' At home? Maybe at school?" He seemed like he had quite a interest in Juho. Well, if he wasn't, he wouldn't have wanted to invite him in the first place. It was an honor to be recognized by an author who would be actively working for another thirty years. "Both. At home and at school. I'm not very picky about where I write." 'I am picky about how I'm feeling at the moment. If my heart was willing, I could write while laying on my stomach in the street,' he murmured silently. "When did you get into writing?" "I'm not sure." "You must have written quite a bit before you were happy with the results." Seo Joong posited simply, and Juho took a moment to think. "Nope," he answered. "Huh?" "I didn't write all that much. It was the first work I'd ever completed. I didn't even want to be an author at the time. I submitted it to the essay contest nearly on impulse." "Impulse," Seo Joong echoed quietly. Juho took a sip of his coffee. People usually took some sort of action as a means to alleviate their anger. Some screamed while others kicked things around them. Some listened to music. In Juho's case, he had a habit of writing out his anger. It tended to be all over the place, so he never bothered to read it again later. However, a novel was not the same. It didn't work that way. A book came to completion through countless revisions. Whether the writer wanted to or not, he had to revisit his draft. That was what it looked like to write rationally. 'The Trace of a Bird,' that book had been written on impulse. It had been almost like throwing a fit to alleviate his own fears and anxiety. Naturally, it was more emotional than it was rational. He could have done better. He could have written more elaborately. With Seo Joong staring at him as if observing and measuring him, Juho said, "That's why I'm not satisfied with it." Seo Joong nodded slowly. "You really are a writer," he added. They were words of recognition. To an author, writing in large spurts took on a different meaning. Mr. Moon had said in his past lesson, "We have to write a lot. It's the only way to get better." It had been a lesson for those who weren't already writers, much in the way of what Seo Joong had just said. An author simply wrote too many words. It was more than one could count. Seo Joong had tried to see if the author 'Yun Woo' was really the result of his own efforts. Juho didn't take it personally. Besides, he wasn't entirely wrong. He had been 'Yun Woo' in his past life. Amid the failures that stormed into his life, the name 'Yun Woo' was the only thing he had associated with success. A coincidental success of a young author. A coincidental work. A coincidental result. (TL's note: In Korea, last name comes before the first name. This means "Yun Woo" would be "Woo Yun," which sounds like the Korean word for 'coincidence.') This time, things would be different. "What, did you think I had someone ghostwrite for me?" Juho asked with a smile. "That's a strong answer. My bad, my bad," Seo Joong apologized as he scratched his head. Juho waved his hand in denial. "You two are the real writers," he answered as he thought about the pool table in the living room and Dong Gil's list of 'things I clearly like.' Development was one of the essential elements of a novel. Authors analyzed and reinterpreted various situations between characters once they took them apart. Because authors made their living out of writing, they had to be aware of everything that was happening around the world. Even at the sight of a small pebble thrown into their boring, everyday life, authors desperately took hold of it to feel and trim it into writing material. Their hands might be covered in cuts and blisters, but that was hardly an issue. "I can't tell if that was a compliment or not." As Seo Joong sat in confusion, he suddenly clapped his hands, 'Clap.' The sound resonated through a small hole in the room. "Is it true that you turned down the film adaptation offers? I heard that one of the directors who approached you was really famous." "Where did you hear that?" "It's common knowledge. Us writers know everything about each other, you know?" he said boldly. Since it wasn't anything he wanted to hide or felt uncomfortable talking about, Juho answered honestly, "Yes, you've heard right." As he had discussed with Nam Kyung, Juho had turned down every film adaptation offer. Among them were famous directors and studios that were quite big. "So, why did you turn them down? Your books would have sold even more. Kids your age are usually into celebrities, aren't they? Besides, we're living in the video era. Ah, wait, was it because you didn't want the director changing the story?" Seo Joong asked. Juho thought for a brief moment, 'I already know the outcome. It's a complete disaster.' As honest as the answer might have been, he couldn't talk about something that hadn't happened yet. He looked for another reason in his mind. "True, but I'm not looking to make any tricky demands either. If I were to have my book made into a movie, I'd like the director to have full creative authority. I don't want there to be a condition in terms of film adaptation. I wouldn't mind if the director decided to name the movie with an entirely different name." Of course, it wouldn't have been ideal to have the director change things in the story. However, there was no right answer to a book. It took shape based on the readers' interpretation and their emotions. For that reason, Juho felt at peace about having one of his readers as the director. He was OK with actors and actresses interpreting the book their own ways. However… "But at that point, I wonder if a film adaptation would even be necessary. The book is already doing well, and I don't really have a celebrity that I like." "Still, if the film does well, your books will sell even more." "Greed can lead to one's downfall." Seo Joong tilted his head as he studied Juho's response. He seemed curious. "I don't get the impression that you're anticipating success. You almost sound like you know you're going to fail…?" "I just don't have a good feeling, that's all. My intuition tends to be pretty accurate," Juho answered calmly. "Intuition, huh. That's fair," Seo Joong admitted. "Well, you never know what could happen. I might change my mind too." "A person can't change so easily." "Still, what's more fickle than a person's heart?" As he took a sip of his sweet and bitter coffee, a pigeon flew into the yard. It walked about as if it was home. Like an arrogant person with his hands behind his back, it looked at the flowers with its wings folded back. "Aren't you scared?" Seo Joong asked as he spotted the pigeon. Seo Joong sounded playful because he was thinking of a fictional character that immediately came to mind when it came to fear birds. "I'm not Yun, you know." "There's a rumor that you're actually afraid of birds." "I've heard that as well." "You have? Do you look up your own name and things like that?" "No, I've heard from a friend." "A friend, I see." Seo Joong reached into his pocket. Dong Gil saw what he was doing and protested, "If you're going to feed the bird, you should stop." "The boy has to eat." "You mean you don't see how chubby that thing is?" Seo Joong paid no attention to Dong Gil and kept looking through his pockets. Soon, he took out his hand with a disappointed look. He couldn't find anything with which to feed the pigeon. He didn't have any snacks around either. His hand moved slowly away from the window. Juho said as he watched, "I heard your new book is coming out soon." "Yep, that's right." "It's been five years right? I've been waiting anxiously myself." "That's an honor," Seo Joong answered as he looked out of the window. "A cat," he said as he pointed. For a moment, Juho wondered if he didn't feel like talking anymore. However, there was no fatigue or annoyance on his face. He was genuinely distracted by the cat that had randomly appeared. His hair wobbled. Juho looked toward where he was pointing. There was an adorable kitten sticking its head through an opening in the front gate. The kitten meowed sadly. There were quite a few animals in the neighborhood. First, a pigeon. Now, there was a cat. Maybe it had something to do with the neighborhood being small and quiet. The three observed the kitten through the window. It struggled to make its way into the yard, wailing as if it were frustrated. "Kind of cute." Dong Gil nodded quietly. At that moment, a black cat jumped onto the wall. It must have heard the kitten's wailing. It looked up to the three, but soon looked away, probably feeling unthreatened. It slowly approached the kitten and laid on its stomach, watching its baby's struggle. No matter how much the kitten wailed, the black cat didn't move from its place. "Do you think a novel is a lie?" asked Seo Joong. "Yes," Juho answered immediately. He felt the two looking at him. "Do you consider your own writing to be a lie?" "Yes," without hesitation, Juho affirmed the notion. "... Why is that?" Seo Joong asked. Juho looked up for a moment. Instead of a blue sky, he saw the white ceiling of the study, only visible to the people inside. "I looked up the word 'lie' in the dictionary once." "What did it say?" "Decorating something that's not true as truth." Juho had a thought when he had seen that sentence, "I think it is the very essence of what I do. A novel is a story made up by an author." "Sigh," Seo Joong sighed deeply as he plunged his head against the desk. He was making a strange sound.

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57 Chapter 57 - Seo Joong, During a Hot Summer Day 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Seo Joong made a high pitched, slightly nasally sound, "That's harsh. Are you saying that your readers are reading your lies? Mr. Woo, I'm hurt. I feel lonely." Dong Gil's expression grew darker, but Juho added as stared at Seo Joong, who claimed to be a reader who had been hurt by him, "You have to let me finish. There's always truth in a book. Don't be sad." "Please, explain," Seo Joong asked as he kept acting. Only, he was looking at Juho with eyes sparkling with interest. "Let's say an artisan potter makes some pottery," Juho said slowly. "It doesn't matter what he makes. When people see it, they won't think of it as a lie." They probably wouldn't even doubt it. The same went for the potter. He didn't doubt whether what he had made was real or not. However, authors were different. "An author writes a novel about an artisan potter. He, too, is a potter, no matter what he makes." "It's all pottery," Dong Gil murmured, and Juho nodded. "That's right. It's all created by a person, but they're treated differently. One is made up while the other actually exists." 'Meow,' a faint cry came from outside. The black cat was looking in their direction with its squinted eyes. "On the outside, yes," Juho added. "On the outside," Seo Joong echoed his words. "Yes. The pottery made by the real artisan is for practical use. You could use it as containers for drinks, or rice. You could see it with your eyes, and you can touch it with your hands." "Yes, an artisan's pottery has a definite shape." "But not so with novels. In other words, they're made up. At the end of the day, they're just letters written a page. You can't use them as containers." 'A novel was a lie. Did that mean that authors were liars?' There had been a time when Juho had been stuck on that question. What he had written couldn't be the truth. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't change the fact that it had been made up. He had felt guilty. He had felt like he had been no different from a con artist. He hadn't been able to look at novels the same way. His head and mind had been chaotic. The calm waters in his mind had started shaking out of control and become murky. He hadn't been able to do anything. "Then, what's in it?" However, as long as the author was still around, the dirt eventually sunk down to the bottom. "Emotions." "Emotions…" Seo Joong echoed his words again. There were emotions in novels, which couldn't be seen or touched. Yet, they definitely existed. Everyone felt them. "There's no truth or lie in emotions. They're just feelings. They're in the heart." Juho understood now. He had been able to stand confidently and answer without hesitation. "I'm not writing because I want to deceive people," he said as his head dropped slightly. There were moments of realization in life. Like a thunderstorm, they came without warning. Then, what followed was time. Juho had to spend years and years living in order to understand the difference between what was true and what was false. It had been long enough for the dirt to sink back down to the bottom so the waters were no longer murky. Though it had been a long time, it didn't feel like a big deal in hindsight. When Juho looked ahead, he saw a white mug filled with coffee. "An author writes the potter, not the pots themselves. A person is much larger and more complex than pottery. If he's distracted with what's true or false, he loses his shape and becomes unrecognizable. We often feel uneasy at heart when he decide that all novels are lies. That's the evidence." "Incredible." 'Clap. Clap. Clap.' The room was filled with that sound. Dong Gil was slowly clapping with a straight posture. "That's Yun Woo for ya. You look like an idiot next to him." Seo Joong smiled bitterly. "It's embarrassing, but I gotta admit. It took me five years to reach that conclusion, but you've already figured that out." That wasn't true. Juho hadn't figured out the answer as quickly as Seo Joong had said. He thought as he swallowed words that he couldn't let out, 'Five years, that was the amount of time he took to write his most recent book. Was that the reason?' "That was the reason," Seo Joong answered as if he read Juho's mind. He chugged his coffee and then wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "One day, I felt sick as I was writing. I broke into cold sweats like I'd eaten something bad. After that, I couldn't write." Juho knew what that felt like. "I couldn't answer any questions about myself. My brain had stopped working. I didn't dare to go outside, even if I've always been a homebody," he added. "The first year was bearable. I thought to myself: 'let's treat this as a vacation. I'll feel better in no time.' But after a year, and the year after, nothing changed. I started growing anxious." Juho observed him. He saw his casual attire and his spiky hair. Writing a book had the power to make its writer anxious, even a free-spirited person like Seo Joong. "It was no use, no matter how much I talked to him. It had been something he had to explore all along," Dong Gil said quietly. Juho nodded. When such doubt and anxiety bloomed from within, one had to find the answer himself. "After three years, my health started to deteriorate. There were constant headaches and dizziness. On the fourth year, I found myself incredibly timid. My movements were becoming sluggish and awkward. I spent more and more time crouching in the corner. I was growing smaller," Seo Joong said as he reminisced the last five years he had spent without writing a single word. The days were unbearable, and filled with self-loathing. He grew more and more lethargic by the day, and his brain no longer tried to distinguish between the days. Every day had been the same. His sense of time had grown dull. Time had flown past him. "Time was just passing, and I couldn't have been more afraid," he said. "How did you manage to get out of there?" Juho asked quietly. "Funny story," he said with a chuckle. "One day, my landlord told me to expect some noise because she was going to plant a big tree in the backyard. I couldn't see the backyard from here, so as usual, I just went back to sleep." 'A tree and the landlord, it had been a sudden change of pace. How was he able to come out of his rut?' "The place was kind of noisy for several months, and there were sounds of people moving building materials. Still, I stayed home quietly. One day, I noticed that the house was unusually quiet, so I'd opened the window to see what had changed. Then, I heard a faint chirping. That was when I realized where the tree had been planted." Juho imagined a tree, a tree that would have existed in a place that his eyes couldn't reach. "It was refreshing, several times more than usual. I couldn't remember the last time I had breathed in the fresh air. From that day on, it became my daily routine to breathe in fresh air with my windows wide open. One day, I was sitting by the window, getting some air like usual, and my eyes met with my landlord's in the yard. So, I said 'hi,' and we had a short conversation. Do you know what she said then?" Seo Joong asked with a smile. "There had never been a tree. Once she started, she realized how complicated it was going to be, so she gave up. Things had felt so good since the tree had come, but it turned out that the noise had been made from some nearby construction. In hindsight, it was kind of odd that planting a tree would take so long. If I had used my brain just a little more, if I had come out and looked just for a moment, I would've known right away, but my sluggish brain had been thinking there was a tree the entire time. That whole day, I was rolling on the floor laughing. Although the "tree" wasn't there anymore, I felt refreshed." "I had finally reached the truth," he added. "The "tree" reveals itself the moment I believe it exists. My job was to reinterpret that as a development in my writing." His eyes sparkled in the shade and he smiled brightly while looking untidy. One day, the anxiety would return. Times of confusion and chaos would always come back, and he always went on a quest in search for truth. "I'm looking forward to your new book!" "You should. It's probably going to be nothing like my other books. It'll be long." "Is that right? In what way?" "Maybe… spiraling downward instead of growing?" It was the polar opposite of what he had been writing so far. Most of his books had characters who grew more mature throughout the book. They experienced things for themselves as they grew and groaned in pain. Then, they learned. "Let me tell you a secret," Seo Joong whispered although there were only two other people in the room. "The protagonist is a corporate worker." "I've already read that in the synopsis." "Buy the book if you want to know the rest." Dong Gil didn't even look surprised. The two cats were gone, and there was no kitten wailing. They had to have left to look for another place to stay, and Juho asked as he stared out the window at the empty front yard, "I guess you had an answer this whole time, Dong Gil." "There was no need to find an answer. My stories are based on my own experiences. In other words, they're real," he answered brusquely with his arms crossed. "He might not look like it, but he's the simplest person in here." "What's that supposed to mean? Do you have something to say about my looks?" "I've known you for years now. It's kind of late for complaints." "I don't think I like your tone." That was very Dong Gil-like, someone had told Juho that every author has their own unique personality. They each wrote with their own hearts. It was their hearts that defined their stories and writing styles. Juho looked at the clock on the wall. They had been talking for quite some time now. "I'm hungry." Like Seo Joong had said, the pool table made the black bean noodles taste even better. As he was his way out after cleaning up, Seo Joong asked, "When are you planning on writing your next book?" He had asked light-heartedly. Yet, there was substance in his question, and Juho felt Dong Gil looking back from the gate. "I'm already working on it," he answered as he quietly stepped out. "Stop right there!" That day, Juho had to stay even longer at Seo Joong's place.

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58 Chapter 58 - A Cat from a Summer Day

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Hey, have you read this yet?" Juho looked up from his desk. He had been just about to take a nap. As usual, he had been writing late into the night. Unaware of his state, Seo Kwang was extremely excited. He had Seo Joong's new book in his hands. "This is exceptional! It was worth waiting five years for." Juho took the book from his hands. The title was 'One Room.' "I've read it," he answered. He had read it as soon it came out, but unlike what he said, Seo Joong had gave him a copy as a gift. In the book, there was a corporate worker who was slowly losing his grip on his emotions. The time flew by, and he grew more and more dull. Yet, he didn't bother to resist it. In the end, he became an old man who wasn't moved by anything. Even after losing his family and parents, he shed no tears. "Time was just passing by, and I couldn't have been more afraid," Seo Joong had said in passing. When he read the book, he almost felt the same fear Seo Joong had felt in his five-year hiatus. It gave him several goosebumps. "How was it?" Seo Kwang asked. "It was incredible," Juho answered after a brief thought. He didn't want to lose. "Yawn." --- As soon as he got home, he took long nap. While stretching, he went to the kitchen to find something to eat and found that the table had already been set. There was a note from his mother next to the bowl of rice. 'I'm going out for little while. I'll be back soon.' 'Did she think that I'd be anxious when I woke up?' With a smile, he took the note and placed it into his desk's drawer, along with the notebook he had used to write his past failures. After a short glance, he closed the drawer. After the quick meal, he washed the dishes. When he went back to his room, he saw piles of paper as usual. 'I better clean this before mom gets home," he thought as he picked up the paper. On the pages, he saw that he had written the direction and destination of his story. "Regret," he read out loud from the page. The word didn't have a very good connotation. An unfiltered emotion brought along a cloud of dust, and the waters in his mind began to reek. He loved how fitting the word was. From his chair, he put his hands on the keyboard. He tried to remember how he felt in that moment. A story couldn't happen in the blink of an eye. A person had several emotions, and they rose up to the surface while taking different shapes. A writer was also a person. He couldn't maintain the same emotion every time he wrote. For that reason, he had to remember what he had felt when he first started writing that story. 'The baby was falling, and the mother rushed to the rescue. The stroller suddenly changed its course towards the right. There was a wall at the end of its course. The stroller slammed against the wall, and the baby took the impact, but the baby wasn't crying. Silence. A sound echoed throughout the quiet alleyway. "I'm so sick of this!" There was a sound of baby's wailing. Their voices filled the alleyway together.' 'Silence and wailing.' The two contrasting words competed for Juho's attention before his eyes. 'A mother who had lost her grip of the stroller. A mother who was sick of her baby. Two babies crying. Silence. What if the mother had let go of the stroller intentionally? What if she had pushed the baby down?' The boundary between silence and wailing disappeared, and the two became one. The sound of two women lingered around Juho's ears. There was a noise. He heard a scream. She had begun screaming the second she'd lost grip of her stroller. It sounded a lot like her annoyed grumbling that had broken the silence in the alleyway. 'What is she made of? Mother, parent, child, motherly love, murderous intent, impulse, maybe regret.' He wanted her to regret. 'A mother who had let go of her baby. People who had ignored her shouts. The baby who didn't survive.' He had organized the developments that were going to take place throughout the story and he wrote every morning as soon as the sun rose. Now, he needed to dig deeper. Then… 'Meow!' He heard a cry. It sounded like a kitten that was both sad and somewhat annoyed, and he looked back. His eyes met with a black cat, the same one he had seen at Seo Joong's house. It was looking at his direction with sadness in its eyes. That cat had been watching its baby as it struggled to go over the windowsill. It was lying down comfortably, and Juho tried talking to it, "Why aren't you helping?" "That kid is strong," the cat answered as his tail moved about. "That's not what I'm seeing. Look at its legs, they're shaking. Maybe it's too slippery." "Human," the cat quietly called for him. Its squinted eyes sparkled brightly. "This is our business. Stop interfering." "Then do something about the wailing." Its pupils dilated in the middle of its yellow eyes, and it said, "Aren't you the one who called for us?" 'Meow,' the kitten cried again. The cat was right. He had called his memory of them for ideas. "Is it a he or she?" "A boy." "What about the baby inside you?" At Juho's words, the cat's stomach puffed out. Its light, pink nipples became visible. "A girl." "So, you already know, even if the baby hasn't come out yet." "Of course. It's my baby," the cat answered as she licked between her legs. Her fur was greasy. She was quite dirty. "Should I bring you something to eat?" "That won't be necessary." "The baby needs nutrition." She scoffed. "My baby's strong." "Then, how about bath water?" "Are you trying to take me in?" she asked with hostility. On the other hand, she sounded seductive. "I don't know if I can take both of you in," he answered as he put out his hand to stroke her. 'Meow,' the baby cried once again. Its mother raised her claws. "Then, get lost," she snapped as she scratched Juho's hand. There were scratched in his hand, and blood slowly bubbled up to the surface. A drop of it spilled through the crack in his skin. 'Meow.' The cat no longer spoke like a person, and Juho opened his eyes. There was nothing on the windowsill. He thought of the upcoming developments for his characters. "A son," and started typing away. 'Stomach twice the size of her breasts, two people, four lives.' The sound of typing that had filled the room came to a sudden stop. That wasn't enough. 'This isn't enough. It's too flat. I need it to be richer,' he thought. He wanted to add more color to his story. He wanted to have something or a character that stuck out ever so slightly. Juho looked through the piles of paper in the corner of his room. 'Not this, or this, or that.' Pieces of paper fell from his hands, and he opened another box nearby. It was also filled with paper. "No, no, it was here somewh… found it!" He had picked up two sheets of paper. "A clown and an audience." A clown imitated other people around him… people around him, puppies, trees, cars, things within like smiles, tears, conversations, murder, urges, sex. He imitated just about anything. Then there was an audience of one beside him. He was the person who would evaluate the clown and he mostly spoke positive words. In response, the clown imitated him. 'I should include these two.' He had already written a story for the two characters, and Juho had stayed up several nights to finish it. He took the two pages to the desk. It was almost like finding the missing pieces to a puzzle. They fit perfectly. A clown and an audience. A mother and her son. Juho imagined what the son would look like. The baby turned around as he babbled, and more time had passed. Four years old, seven years old, twelve years old, it was still not enough. She had said that her baby was strong. Twenty, thirty-two, forty-five. He thought about the trembling kitten, and he knew he had gone too far. "Eighteen years old." That was it. Juho moved his hands busily and smiled through the light shining from the computer screen. * Baron had been looking at a blog. It was written by the person who had claimed that Yun Woo was an innocent girl. He went by the nickname HongSam and had written several book introductions and reviews. Baron had bought quite a few books after reading HongSam's reviews. "I can't find it." For some reason, HongSam hadn't been writing very often. Without any explanation, the announcement had said that he wouldn't be able to upload anything for a while. 'Did he go on a trip? He said he was an adult, so maybe he's trying to make a living.' Still, as an avid reader of his blog, Baron was disappointed by his absence. The comment sections were also curious about his whereabouts. Among many reasons for the blog's popularity, the biggest reason was that his affection toward books was very apparent in the way he wrote his reviews. Every single review had been written after he had read through a book. He read a ridiculous amount of books, and people naturally believed what he wrote. Now, he had disappeared without an explanation. Baron too had left a comment. 'Is there something going on in your life?' "Son, come out and eat." "OK," he answered as he turned off the computer and walked out to the kitchen. * "So what do you want to eat?" "What do you want, Baron?" Juho asked. They were on their way back from exercising together. Baron had been exercising consistently for quite a long time. The skills he had shown at the sprint race were the result of his consistent effort up to that point. He usually walked around the park in the evening while Juho's activities were mostly in the morning, so there had been no chance for them to run into each other. As he ran errands at the market for his mother, Juho decided to take Baron along for snacks. There was an intoxicating smell, and they stopped in front of an old lady who was cooking pancakes on a grill. "Two seafood pancakes with green onions, please." The lady took turns looking at Juho and Baron, and then answered with a smile. The batter started to sizzle as soon as it came into contact with the grill. Its golden brown color made it look all the more scrumptious. Food tasted a lot better after exercising. As he quietly watched the pancakes cooking, Juho suddenly remembered something and said with his eyes on the grill, "Have you been to HongSam's blog recently?" "Yeah, there hasn't been any updates." "Do you know what happened?" "Don't know. HongSam himself isn't saying anything, so there's no way for me to know." "True." Baron had answered without taking his eyes off of the grill. He too was an avid reader of HongSam's blog, who had also been left confused. 'Why hasn't he been writing anything?' "Maybe he's just tired of it," Baron said brusquely. There was a deep sense of disappointment in his tone. Because of the nature of his blog, HongSam had to read through an entire book before writing a review. If he was tired of having to read through an entire book for every review, it would have made sense that he was growing tired of it. Still, there were doubts as to what might have happened. "Maybe, but wouldn't he have said that he was quitting altogether?" "I guess so. Maybe he's been in an accident?" If he had been in an accident, he might not have gotten around giving his readers an update. "Let's see, it's been about a month since his last post, so if he really was in an accident, his injury was severe enough to keep in the hospital for at least four weeks." "Hm. Not something I want to think about." "Right." Baron thought briefly. If there had to be another reason… "He did say he was an adult, so it has to be that he's trying to make a living."

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59 Chapter 59 - HongSam’s Confession 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Juho nodded in agreement. "I've thought about that too. I wonder if he's actually busy." HongSam couldn't have run the blog with a daily job. If he had no time to read, then he would have nothing to write about either. Though Baron's theory was the most realistic among the others, there were still things that needed explanation. "He'll come back eventually. Wait, have you always been a fan of HongSam?" "He's a big influence when I'm buying a book," Baron said as he quietly looked at Juho. "I know you're also looking for some sort of explanation." "Haha! You got me." It was true. They had been learning more about each other as they spent more time together. It was a good thing that Baron had started taking more interest in lowerclassmen. "To be honest, I got an eerie feeling from his latest post," Juho said with a smile. "Eerie? His latest post as in… his review of 'One Room,' right?" Baron remembered heading straight to the bookstore after reading the review, and Juho nodded. "What about it? I didn't notice anything different." "It's just that… it's odd." "What is?" Baron asked with a confused look on his face. "HongSam is an honest person. You can tell if he liked the book or not from the length of the post. He's also a fan of Seo Joong Ahn, and the book 'One Room' is his first bestseller in five years. It's been getting a lot of good reviews and it actually is a good book. I'm sure the book suited his taste." Yet, there was nothing different about his latest post. It was odd. As a frequent visitor of his blog, Juho had a gist of HongSam's taste in books. If 'One Room' hadn't suited his taste, he wouldn't have hesitated to express his disappointment in his post. "Now that I think about it, you're right. I didn't get the impression that HongSam was excited about the book. That's strange." "Right?" The two immersed themselves in thought. 'What would make him distance himself from reading?' "Here are your pancakes!" With a loud voice, the old lady brought a large plate out to them. While Juho put his thoughts on hold to eat, he suddenly hesitated when he saw the food on the table. "Ma'am, I believe we only ordered two." "It's on the house. You're from afar." Juho looked at Baron. There was another plate in front of him, and he calmly thanked the old lady. "Thank you very much." "You speak good Korean. I'm sure you didn't get to eat well back home. Let me know if you need more." As if he had been used to the situation, he brushed off her kind-hearted discrimination. Juho had heard her mention something about a poor country, but Baron interjected before Juho had the opportunity to say anything, "I'm used to it. Besides, more for me." "That's not a good thing to lie to yourself about," Juho said as he stared intently at Baron. Baron smiled as if he had given in. "Fine! You know what? I still don't like it. Happy?" "Now, since you are complaining, I can dig in without having to worry about shame." At that, they picked up their chopsticks together. --- "What's with you lately?" Juho asked Seo Kwang as he brought a spoonful of rice curry into his mouth. "Huh?" Seo Kwang hadn't been himself as of late. So far, he hadn't been caught reading his book during class, and lately, he had been getting in frequent trouble with the teacher even when he hadn't been reading in secret. Because he sat right behind him, Juho too had been called out several times for dozing off. Whenever there was time, Seo Kwang quietly looked out the window and sat in a daze. Something must have happened. On top of that, he had been the only person who hadn't decided which competition he was going to sign up for. Juho asked as he rubbed his tired eyes, "Did somebody burn all of your books?" "I don't even want to think about that, so do me a favor and keep that thought to yourself." "Then, what is it? Why have you been walking around like a zombie? Is there something going on at home?" "No, it's nothing like that," he stalled. "Did you get yourself into trouble?" "Nope." "Do you need money?" "I'll take it gladly if you have some." "Did you get heatstroke?" "My health is fine," he answered as he mashed the rice with his chopsticks. 'Maybe it's something he can't talk about openly,' Juho decided not to be nosy. "Well, if you did something wrong, it's usually best to just confess," he added as he continued eating his food. If he really had done something, it would have been best for him to come clean to the others around him. 'Did he steal something?' Juho shook his head at the thought. Seo Kwang didn't have the guts to do such a thing. Despite his character around others, he had a careful side to him that prioritized safety. Juho thought some more as he took another spoonful, 'First, HongSam, and now, it's Seo Kwang. Things have been weird lately.' Then, he remembered the time when HongSam had presumed Yun Woo to be a 'book-loving girl.' At that moment, his hand stopped in midair as he was about to take another bite. "A book-loving girl." "Huh?" Juho looked up slowly, calmly chewed his food and swallowed. He saw the puzzled look on Seo Kwang's face as he picked at his own food with his chopsticks. Meanwhile, Juho quietly organized his thoughts, 'Seo Kwang was the first person who told me about HongSam. It's been a month since he wrote on his blog.' He thought about the time when Seo Kwang started acting strangely, and it had been about a month. The corners of his mouth turned up slowly as he reached his conclusion that Seo Kwang and HongSam were into the same type of girl, a book-loving girl. "You're HongSam!" Seo Kwang froze. "Yeah," he confessed suddenly. Juho took his spoon that had been buried in a pile of rice curry out and said, "Let's eat for now." "... OK." As they ate, the two didn't say a word to each other. --- After eating, the two sat on a wooden bench in the schoolyard, each with a carton of apple juice in their hands. There were other kids lingering around, and Juho asked Seo Kwang as he sat quietly, "Mr. HongSam?" "Yes, sir," he answered calmly. The fact that Seo Kwang had been hiding his identity as HongSam was not a big issue. One wasn't obligated to reveal everything about his life to his friend. "So, what's your occupation?" "Hey, don't be like that," he said with an awkward smile. Seo Kwang was nervous because he had been acting as an "adult" in the blog. "I really thought HongSam would be a corporate worker." "My dad's a great reference." "You really did your research, didn't you? It was well put. Why don't you write a novel? I see potential," Juho said jokingly. Seo Kwang started to loosen up and smile. Juho wasn't looking to criticize him, but he was curious about one thing, 'Why did he have to be an adult?' Noticing that Juho was quiet, Seo Kwang took the initiative to explain himself, "I first started my blog in middle school. That's when I first learned that my age could work against my favor. People were talking down to the books I'd review because some middle school kid had read it. I get why they would do that to a middle school kid, but the book? I was so angry, but I couldn't do anything about it. "After I calmed down a little, I started asking myself a questions, 'How are these people so brave? How can they attack others so boldly?' The answer was simple - anonymity. So I gave it a shot, and what you've been looking at is the result - the birth of a popular blogger. I felt bitter, but the result was good, so I kept going." Juho felt traces of Seo Kwang's anger in his calm tone of voice. "What does HongSam mean?" he asked after listening quietly. "I saw my dad drinking red ginseng concentrate, and it looked like a good symbol for tired adults." (TL's note: Hongsam is red ginseng in Korean.) People around his father's age tended to eat anything for the benefit of their health, and Juho pictured the person who he had never met. A father had the responsibility to stay healthy. It was a responsibility he had taken up himself because there were people he worried about in case he passed away. After staring out at the schoolyard for some time, Juho asked the burning question in his mind, "Why haven't you written anything in your blog for a month?" If it weren't for that absence, Juho wouldn't have been fazed even if he had found out that Seo Kwang had been HongSam all along. Whether he was HongSam or InSam, he would have left encouraging comments and treated him as the person he wanted to be. However, Seo Kwang looked weary. He seemed concerned and no longer happy. (TL's note: Insam is ginseng in Korean.) "So, funny story…" Seo Kwang hesitated. "If it's something you don't want to talk about, I won't pry it out of you. Think about it. Is it something you can do anything about?" His eyes looked up and came back down. They moved busily as he thought. "I think I'm in love," he said. 'Love!' Juho blinked slowly. "Are you confessing to me?" "You crazy weirdo!" Juho cackled out loud. Coming from Seo Kwang, the word 'love' sounded so pure and innocent. "Good times," he said, feeling relieved on the inside. 'Good thing it's not anything serious.' After a good laugh, he asked Seo Kwang, "It's not a character from a book, is it?" "No!" Seo Kwang answered fiercely. --- After school ended, Juho headed over to Seo Kwang's house with him. He had invited Juho over with enthusiasm. There was a subway station at the end of the furniture district that stretched into the distance. His house was in a corner of that intersection. The first floor was a small neighborhood bookstore, and Juho looked up at the building. "Let's go inside," Seo Kwang said as he leaned into the glass door. "First floor?" "Yep. It's our store." Now it made sense as to why Seo Kwang was such a bookworm. 'Who would've thought his parents actually owned a bookstore?' It was such a fitting family business for him. As he followed Seo Kwang into the store, he was met by a small counter with books on it. There was also a hand written suggestion list on top of the books. The register was in the innermost part of the store, which looked more like a book cafe than a bookstore. There were drinks and a dessert menu on the wall and a small kitchen space in the back. "We sell alcohol at night too. A lot of people like to read while they drink." "Have you tried it?" "I've begged my parents for a sip once. They want me to wait till I'm an adult," he said, slightly disappointed. Cafe, bar, that was how a small neighborhood bookstore survived. In front of the register, there was a generous looking lady staring at the two. "He must be a friend," she said. "Yeah, this is Juho." As Seo Kwang introduced him, the lady's eyes widened. "Why, hello! You must be that Juho! I'm Seo Kwang's mom." "How are you doing?" She smiled brightly as he greeted her with a bow. Her somewhat mischievous smile had a striking resemblance to Seo Kwang. "I've heard about you a lot. It must be tiring to hang out with Seo Kwang."

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60 Chapter 60 - HongSam’s Confession 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Tiring!?" Seo Kwang grumbled at his mother's playful words. "Make yourself at home. Feel free to read whatever you want," she said. Seo Kwang took Juho to a place in the innermost part of the store. It was quite far from the register, so they didn't have to worry about their conversation being overheard. "What would you like to drink? We have good bread too. Whatever you want, you can have it for free." Though Juho turned her down respectfully, she brought out drinks and a generous amount of bread. "Thank you." "Of course! There's a lot more." "Yes, ma'am." While Seo Kwang left for a moment, Juho looked around the store. There were all kinds of books, from nursery rhymes to self-help to literature. Among all the books, nursery rhymes were the most common, especially the ones from overseas. All written in their original language, there were enough to fill an entire wall. "Those are our store's main products. Our store is well known among nursery rhyme collectors," Seo Kwang said with a laptop in his hand. A customer was behind him. "Hello," Seo Kwang's mother welcomed the customer with a bright smile. He ordered a drink and picked out a book for himself. He seemed to be a regular. "Having distinguishing qualities is essential for neighborhood bookstores. Although, I can't really read them because they're in English." "That's unfortunate." "Sure is. I'm sure you understand what it feels like to wait desperately for a translated copy of a book from your favorite author." "Maybe, maybe not," Juho answered with a smile. Then, Seo Kwang clapped as if he'd remembered something, "You speak English right? So annoying!" "Why don't you learn?" "It's a lot easier said than done." "That is true." Learning a language was not easy. James had told Juho once about his struggle with teaching foreign students. Whether teaching or learning, putting in the effort was necessary for both parties. Language was a delicate tool. "What's with the laptop?" "I thought it'd be better to show you." He turned the laptop on and went into a familiar looking blog. 'HongSam's World of Books,' it was Seo Kwang's blog. "You really are HongSam." Juho came to that realization once again as he watched Seo Kwang managing the blog. It was the moment when the corporate worker HongSam became the high school student Seo Kwang in his mind. "You're a good writer," he said sincerely. Seo Kwang might have been a better writer when it came to book reviews. "That's flattering. Well, I'm pretty confident when it comes to reviewing books even though I kind of struggle with original stories." "Like what Mr. Moon pointed out." Mr. Moon had often pointed out Seo Kwang's plot development. He had to find it difficult to come up with a story of his own. 'Maybe it's because he has so many books in his head,' Juho speculated light-heartedly. "Look at this." After glancing over to the register, he set his laptop in front of Juho. He didn't want his parents to know. Juho looked at the screen with a faint smile. There was an email written in spotty grammar. "A foreigner?" "Yep." "Is this your first love?" "Hey, speak quieter," Seo Kwang said with his index on his mouth. "Good times," Juho smiled without even realizing. The email was from a person with the nickname "Ginger." 'HongSam and Ginger… that's a curious combination,' he thought as he read the email. In summary, the point of the email was: "I'd like to meet you in person." Juho asked as he looked away from the screen, "How did "Ginger" find out about your blog?" "So…" he said quietly even though his mother was busy dealing with a customer. "I think she's a foreigner who's been studying Korean. She probably found my blog while looking for a Korean novel. It would have been a good resource for her since it's a blog that focuses on book reviews. So, she visited frequently." "Your reviews are written colloquially. That makes sense." "I got a message from her one day, and it turns out that she has a similar taste in books, so we started talking over email, mostly about books and Korea." As proof, his inbox was full of emails he had exchanged with Ginger. Seo Kwang was full of life when he talked about her, and Juho listened quietly. "She's twenty-five years old and lives in the UK. She watches a lot of K-dramas and listens to a lot of K-Pop, so she started studying Korean. That's when she fell in love with Korean novels." 'A love that they overcame the time difference,' Juho thought. "Have you seen her face?" he asked. "Nope." "Phone number?" "Don't know." "What if she's a dangerous person?" he asked as he looked through the emails. "I'm trusting she's not." Their relationship had evolved from discussing common interests to something more. From Juho's point of view, she didn't seem to be lying either. She had never asked for money and she had taken the initiative to ask to meet. Of course, it wouldn't hurt to expect the unexpected. "And she's into you?" "Yep." Juho clicked the next email. Ginger's affection had become very apparent at the very end of it. "She is into you." It was possible for a person to fall in love with a person who they had never met. Communication was what made that possible. Instead of verbally, the two had been talking to one another through emails. They had introduced themselves to one another and told one another about themselves, things they liked and disliked, things they found fun or boring, good days, bad days… They knew about each other's current life. "Yep," he answered quietly. "So, what's the issue?" Juho asked. Issue. At that word, Seo Kwang's expression suddenly grew darker, and Juho had an idea. They had feelings for each other, yet Seo Kwang couldn't answer her email willingly. It hadn't been his doubt or the distance between the two. "Is it age?" Seo Kwang dropped his head, writhing in pain. "Why did I do that? I shouldn't have cared so much about sounding convincing. I shouldn't have faked my age. Now, I have to lie to someone I consider to be my destiny. I have to trick her," he said with his head buried in his arms. Juho read the email again. 'I'll be visiting Korea this month. I'd like to meet you then.' "How old does she think you are?" "... the same age." Twenty-five. Seo Kwang had added eight years to his age, but Juho suggested a simple solution, "Just be honest." "Sigh. It's not that simple," he added. "Imagine if I'd said 'Actually, I'm seventeen.' It'd be over." Seventeen. He was young, an underage, at that. He wasn't even old enough to buy alcohol. There was no way to know how Ginger would respond, so it made sense that Seo Kwang was struggling so much. "So, are you planning to keep lying to her?" "... I don't want to do that either." "Of course," he answered. "Then, I guess you just gotta be honest." "Ughhh," Seo Kwang grumbled. Juho thought about the significance of Seo Kwang revealing his actual age. According to her emails, Ginger seemed to be polite and someone who acted with common sense. He had predicted that a twenty-five year old Ginger would not consider a seventeen year old Seo Kwang as a romantic partner. "You know that, right?" "..." Seo Kwang knew, and that's why he had been hesitating. The two had been communicating and sharing each other's lives. Unfortunately, Seo Kwang was neither twenty-five nor a corporate worker. "It was so nice…" Seo Kwang said. "Waiting for her replies had been the most heart-fluttering moments of the past seventeen years." Juho stared at him intently. "Man, some lover you are." "Please don't make fun of me," he answered sadly as he thought of Ginger. "I don't want to lie to her, but I don't want to tell her the truth either." Juho didn't feel that criticizing would be necessary. There was no use in crying over spilled milk. In all this, Seo Kwang was probably the person who was hurting the most. "You still have to write back to her, right?" Seo Kwang nodded sadly. He really didn't want to trick her and he had been constantly fighting with the thoughts in his mind. Otherwise, he'd simply walk away from the situation and he'd justify himself as he did. For that reason, he needed someone to question him so that he could come up with an honest answer. "How do you want to do this?" Juho asked. There was a brief moment of silence, and he sipped on his drink as he waited for an answer. It was grapefruit-ade, sweet, and slightly tart. The surface of the cup was covered with droplets of water that flowed down the cup pulled by their own weight. Finally, Seo Kwang responded, "I'm not going to trick her." "And then?" he asked. "I'll see her. I'm done hiding behind my nickname." "OK. Now, it comes down to how you're going to write your reply," Juho said as he savored his drink. "Ahhh!" Seo Kwang cried. The fear seemed to revisit him as he came closer to the core of the issue. "Why don't we write something sincere, like when you're reviewing a book?" Juho suggested in order to prevent him from backing out. "I'm a timid loser at heart." "Don't you think that will work somehow?" With first loves, being snazzy had no value whatsoever. Apparently, next to alcohol, it was the second scariest thing to be drunk on. Juho rooted for his friend's first love that was both sweet and slightly tart. With his hands on the keyboard, Seo Kwang asked Juho as he hesitated, "Can you help?" "You're asking now?" "You're the best thing that happened to me." "Why don't you tell that to your love?" "You speak English," Seo Kwang said with his lips clenched. "I do." "Help me translate, will you?" With all the work she had put in writing back to him in Korean, he must have wanted to reciprocate her efforts. There was no reason to say no. "Alright, anytime," Juho accepted willingly. He had never translated before, but he wasn't worried. He had been keeping himself busy, getting familiar with his language acquisition device. It should be just as useful for translations. "Here goes nothing," Seo Kwang said. He wrote to be as honestly as possible. 'Maybe the person who really looks like an author here is Seo Kwang,' Juho thought in passing.

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61 Chapter 61 - HongSam’s Confession 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Let me go get a drink of water." "Again? You've gone several times already. Calm down." "No, I feel like my voice is going to crack. I can't let that happen when we're meeting for the first time." "If you don't want to go to the bathroom in the middle of a conversation, wait." "I guess so. I'm going to go to the bathroom really quickly then." Juho was trying to calm Seo Kwang down. They were waiting for Ginger in front of a large bookstore in GwangHwaMun. After sending her an honest email, she had written back the following day. Unlike previously, it had been written in English that time. Juho translated it. Though she sounded flustered, she was understanding. Seo Kwang wrote that she didn't have to see him if she didn't feel comfortable doing so, but she didn't cancel their plans. "How do you think this will go?" "I'm not sure," Juho answered calmly. "I'm sure this is the end," Seo Kwang said. "Maybe of the feelings?" Juho answered as he looked at him intently. Seo Kwang ruffled his hair and looked up, "I'm going to make the most of it while it lasts." With that, he focused on keeping his spirits up. He tried to concentrate on being an average teenager who looked forward to meeting a girl, and Juho didn't say anything else. --- Without getting any explanation, the club members looked at him weird. "Did you finally lose your mind?" Sun Hwa said. "I do feel like I'm getting close. This is a beautiful world we're living in." Sun Hwa was at loss for words. Instead, she tapped Juho on the arm. "Don't ask me," he said. "Don't you write anything like 'I won't let a drop of water touch your hand,'"Mr. Moon said after reading Seo Kwang's composition. Unlike Juho, who was chuckling, Seo Kwang answered with a bright smile, "Yes, Mr. M!" He was a brave fellow, that one. --- "Do I need anything else? Should I have a book in my hand or something?" "No, you're fine the way you are." "Yeah? What about my hair? Should I go put on some wax?" "No, you're fine." He must have asked those things at least several hundred times. Seo Kwang had been frantically fixing his hair and making himself look tidier. Meanwhile, Juho patted his tense, rigid back. "You're doing fine. Just be yourself," he said. "That's the hardest thing for me at the moment," he answered as he wiped his sweaty palm on his pants. "I don't think I've been this nervous about meeting someone. It wouldn't be this bad even if I was meeting God Himself." "That's not nice." "I don't have a religion, but I feel like now would be a good time to find one," he said, and Juho prayed that he wouldn't make a mistake in front of Ginger. "How's my breath? I brushed my teeth three times. You want a whiff?" "Yo, get that away from me," Juho said as he pushed Seo Kwang away. "Try taking a deep breath. You're going to be exhausted before you even see her." "I'm fine. Unusually fine. I didn't get a wink of sleep last night, but how is that I don't even feel tired?" 'Probably because you're excited,' Juho murmured internally. It seemed like Juho would have to have the same conversation with his friend a couple hundred more times before Ginger arrived. He looked around as time approached. She had said that she'd be wearing a green cardigan, but he didn't see anyone with one of those yet. "Isn't it fascinating?" Seo Kwang said with a calmer voice. "What is?" "That I fell in love with someone I haven't even met? Writing is amazing. It transfers emotions just as they are. It's different from speaking." Juho nodded quietly. Writing really was amazing. It made a bookworm fall in love with a girl. Being as tactful a student as he was, Seo Kwang wrote to her with awkward English and attitude. "I'm going to apologize when I see her. This time, in person." "I'm sure she'll forgive you." "Then, I'll confess. I'll tell her that I still like her. Not as the twenty-five year old HongSam, but as the seventeen year old Seo Kwang," he said with determination and added, "I'm sure she'll say no, but at least it'll be in person." Juho thought of her emails. There had been forgiveness in her reply. She hadn't cancelled their plans and she had said that she understood him. Then, she had said jokingly at the end, 'I guess now you need to address me formally.' As a person who had a deep interest in Korean culture, she must have understood the significance in speaking with formality. There would be a distance between them as noona and dongsaeng - older 'sister' and younger 'brother.' Things would never go back to the way they were when they would talk to each other as people of the same age. Seo Kwang and Juho both understood that as soon as they saw that sentence in the email. After all, Seo Kwang had tact. Yet, he insisted on coming out to meet her. To be rejected once again. To confess to her one more time. "I'll buy you fried chicken. Let me know when you're done," Juho said quietly. Seo Kwang's face puckered for the first time. "No, thanks. I have a feeling I'd be haunted by bad memories if I have fried chicken again. I love fried chicken too much. While you're at it, buy me pizza instead." Juho nodded, although he was slightly confused. 'If that's what you want.' "Alright. Whatever it is, I'll let you eat to your heart's content. Good luck!" he said. At that moment, Seo Kwang saw a foreigner with brown hair walking toward him, wearing a green cardigan. 'It has to be her,' he thought as if he knew the face of his love. It was Ginger. "I'm going to have myself the bestest day in my life," he said as he took a step forward. He was still nervous on the inside. Leaving his anxiety behind, Seo Kwang walked toward her. Juho watched them having a conversation from the distance. Seo Kwang was making exaggerated movements. "First love." He let out a faint smile at the sound of those bittersweet words and thought about the excitement on Seo Kwang's face. Then, he took a small notebook out from his pocket. In there, were a mother with her two children. 'Love. She must have experienced it at some point in her life. There had to be a time when she had met her love for the first time.' He felt the woman's gloomy, aggressive appearance mellowing out a little bit. --- It was a busy day at the publishing company. People worked while being surrounded by books. They read pages and pages of drafts while keeping in touch with the authors and deciding on the designs for the book covers. Amid the bustle of business, Nam Kyung was writing an email to the people who had shown interest in adapting Juho's book into a movie. It wasn't uncommon for authors to turn down a movie adaptation offer. Every author had a reason for not wanting their book to be made into a movie. Juho was the same way. He'd made the decision because he'd had an opinion as an author. As an editor, Nam Kyung's job at that point was to respect the author's opinion. He looked through the inbox and the countless offers he had turned down. There were names of renowned studios and directors among them. Sang Young Ju. His hand suddenly stopped as he scrolled down the list. He had heard of that name from a movie preview show that aired every Sunday. In that week's episode, they had introduced the directors. Nam Kyung had paid little attention, even as the TV showed a climactic scene of one of Sang Young's movies. He had never heard of his name or his movies before that. However, although he'd never drawn millions of people to the audience or been invited to a film festival, his movies were simply gorgeous. 'Why isn't he known yet?' It was Nam Kyung's first question when he saw one of his movies. 'It has to be time. It's a matter of time before he spreads his wings as an director,' he thought. It was unfortunate that he had turned down such a talented director. He hadn't realized it when he had written to the director, but the regret finally caught up to him. "Maybe I should try bringing it up to Juho again," he said and reached into his pocket to find his phone, but it was empty. 'Where did I put my phone?' he thought, looking through his messy desk. Because of that, he had completely missed out on the conversation between his coworkers. "There's a strange person outside." "A strange person?" "I'm not sure, but apparently he's just sitting still in front of the building." "Should we call the police?" "I'm sure that security will take care of him." --- "I'm going to learn English," Seo Kwang said as he shoved a slice of pizza into his mouth. He was completely incomprehensible, but Juho was able to understand somehow. "Why?" Juho asked as he sipped on his Coke. "I've made a promise." "What promise?" he asked as he chewed fiercely. The world might not have been such a beautiful place after all. "That I'm really going to go visit her the year I turn twenty-five." "So, you two decided to stay friends?" "Yeah! Friends! Friendzoned!" he said angrily as he chugged his Cola. He almost looked like he was drinking. "When I met her, she greeted me in Korean." She had done so informally. "So, I greeted her back." As agreed, he addressed her with formality. They had both been sincere in their promises. He poked the cheese that had stretched out from the pizza and said, "So that's why I'm going to learn English and let her know how I feel." "What?" "'Hi,'" he said with a mischievous smile. Like Ginger had done, he was planning on saying hello to her in her native tongue when he eventually turned twenty-five years old. "That's not exactly formal." "I know." "OK, then." There was no promise that he would actually be able to get in touch with her when he turned twenty-five. His heart might have changed by then. She might be seeing someone by then. Still, he had decided that he was going to learn English and visit her. There was nothing Juho could do but root for his friend. "Where did you learn English?" "I'm self-taught," he answered with a shrug. "You can do that?" "I'm sure it depends on the person." "You're so annoying." "Haha!" For a while, Juho had to withstand criticism from Seo Kwang. "One day, I'm going to surpass you," he said with unexplainable determination. He must have been drunk from his Coke. "You said you gave her a book, right? Which book was it?" Juho changed the subject as he brought his cup to his mouth. "'The Trace of a Bird.'" Juho almost spat out his drink. "Why?" he asked as he barely swallowed the drink in his mouth. "Well, it's a good book. And…" "And?" "She's a fan… of Yun Woo…" he mumbled as if complaining. "Do you want more food?" Juho asked. He felt sorry for him for some reason. "You know what? I'll take you up on that offer. Tonight, I'm going to EAT. I'll pitch in, so let's eat together." After ordering another round of pizza along with various sides, they ended up going home with boxes of leftovers. Of course, Juho paid for everything. Seo Kwang's first love came to its bittersweet end as he walked around the park to help with digestion. The following day, he immediately submitted his application to a contest.

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62 Chapter 62 - Who are You? 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl 'Clunk.' The bus rattled, and Juho woke up from the sudden impact. 'Yawn.' He was on his way to the publishing district for a lunch meeting with Nam Kyung at the same restaurant from last meeting and looked around the bus to see how many more stops were left. 'Two more.' He thought of Seo Kwang as he looked out of the window at the scenery zooming past. The night after he had indulged in pizza with Juho, he had asked his parents to send him to a private institute to learn English. His parents willingly accepted his request. Not many parents would stop their child from wanting to study more. Since then, he had changed. Instead of reading books, he occupied himself with memorizing English words. What didn't change was that he still wasn't paying attention in class. In terms of writing, he worked even harder to improve his skill. After the school essay contest, he had been gradually distancing himself from writing. He had struggled to finish his composition and spent even less time thinking. His skill had been solid from the sheer amount of reading he had accustomed himself to, but had wrestled with creative writing and hadn't bothered to overcome his weakness. However, he had been fully aware that the cause of his weakness was in himself and had asked Juho to write sincerely, saying that he wanted to read what Juho wrote. So, Juho had written with all of his heart. As a result, Seo Kwang had lost interest in writing. Now, he began to write again, just like he had before. No, he was working even harder. The reason he had picked up his pen had been simple. He simply had found a purpose, a new purpose to write. Juho thought of the day when he shared that purpose with him in person. They had been on their way to the science room together. "Hey," he called for Juho, who had been walking ahead. Juho stopped and looked back. "Yeah?" Seo Kwang looked up at his eyes from where he stood and said determinedly, "I'm going to be translator." It had been his resolution and desire. A freshman in high school, he had finally found something that he wanted to do after his breakthrough after the Ginger incident. He had decided to commit his life to translating until the day he couldn't work anymore. He wanted to be a translator who enabled people to have access to more books. Juho looked down from where he stood and saw that Seo Kwang had never been so determined before. "So, you go ahead and be a writer." "Why?" Juho asked after a brief moment of silence. "Your writing tends to move people. Look at how I turned out." "Isn't that because of your first love?" "OK, now you're pouring salt on an open wound," he said sternly. Then, he stopped Juho as he tried to walk away. "You should be a writer. I want you to. It's not like you want to do anything else." "Well… I'm not sure. It's not like I can be a novelist just because I don't have anything I want to do, you know?" "So, you're not going to be a writer?" he asked. "I didn't say that." He was already a writer. He had already made his debut and had his book released. However, that hadn't been his end goal. There were limits to being a novelist, and Juho didn't want his life to be under such restrictions. He slowly opened his mouth and proclaimed, rewarding Seo Kwang for sharing his future goal honestly, "I want to be great." "What?" "It might sound somewhat childish and exaggerated, but that's the kind of thing I want." For a while, Seo Kwang seemed dumbfounded. "Well, then be a great writer. A great storyteller," he said with a smile. "Haha. What makes you so desperate for me to become a writer?" Juho asked as he laughed at the sound of the word he had become so familiar with. "It's so that I can translate your books. That's my goal," Seo Kwang answered. "That's kind of silly." "What did you say?" "We should get going. We're running late." "I said what did you… Hey, hey!" 'We ended up being late, and Mr. Moon looked daggers at us,' Juho reminisced as he stared out the window. The bus started moving again toward the next stop. From that point on, Seo Kwang would change even more. It was not about whether or not he was going to be successful. There was a world of difference between someone with a goal and someone without one. It hadn't been that long since he had started learning English, but Juho was certain that he was going to pick it up quickly. After all, Seo Kwang's skills with language were quite impressive. He imagined Seo Kwang as a translator. It suited him quite well. 'What would it be like if he actually translated my books?' he thought. The books translated by Seo Kwang would reach all over the world. People who spoke other languages would laugh and cry as they read what he had translated. However, it would be a while until that could happen. As Juho looked up after organizing his thoughts, he rushed to press the stop button. "Damn it! I missed my stop." When he finally got out of the bus, he appeared in front of a publishing company. The restaurant had been long gone. The good news was that there was still time until their meeting, so he wouldn't have to worry about making Nam Kyung wait. He was left with no choice, but to let Nam Kyung know. 'I'll meet you in front of your office,' Juho wrote in his text. At that moment, Nam Kyung was hearing about a strange man who had appeared in front of the office and hadn't even been aware of his phone vibrating on his desk. Meanwhile, Juho made his way toward Nam Kyung's publishing company. There were cars parked here and there in the streets. He checked his phone as he walked, but Nam Kyung hadn't responded yet. 'Maybe he's busy. I'm sure he'll still come out on time,' he thought to himself. "Look, it's a fox!" "I like bunnies more." There was a family with children in the distance. A young boy and a girl each had a picture book in their hands. That must have been what the kids were talking about. "No running! You'll fall and hurt yourselves!" The kids were excited beyond control. They seemed like they couldn't be still. Juho heard their laughter from where he was and thought the sight of the little girl following after her brother was quite adorable. He watched for a bit, but continued on after he remembered he had plans with Nam Kyung. His office was right around the corner, so there was no way that they would miss each other. "'Scuse me." 'I should give him a call when I'm in front of the building.' "Hey." 'Since I'm already here, maybe I should suggest going somewhere nearby. I'm sure he'll know a place.' "Hello? 'Scuse me!" Juho looked back to see who was shouting. Somebody must have been calling for him. The first thing that had caught his eyes were a pair of old jeans worn by a man. He was somewhat chubby and seemed to be around in his forties. "Me?" "Yes, young man. Thanks for stopping," the man answered with a husky voice. For some reason, the formality in his speech didn't quite match his appearance. "Where are you headed to, young man?" "A publishing company," Juho answered somewhat suspiciously. "What business do you have there?" He didn't sound like he was criticizing. He was genuinely asking for his reason for going there. 'Who is this person? Is this a survey? Is he going to ask if I'm interested in enlightenment or buying something from him?' Contrary to his speculations, the man brought up neither of those things. Juho had wondered if he was a reporter, but he didn't seem to have a camera on him. 'Is he an employee for the publishing company? He doesn't seem like it…' he thought. "Which publishing company were you headed to?" Seeing how Juho remained quiet, he rephrased his question. "Zelkova Publishing Company, right over there," Juho said as he pointed at a building. The man turned his head toward the direction Juho had pointed, and then turned back to look at him again. Juho was confused. "If you don't mind me asking, who are you, ahjussi?" he asked as he stared back. (TL's note: ahjussi means 'mister' in Korean, usually referring to an older man.) His eyes sparkled. He seemed like he was certain of something. 'What's he so certain of?' "I'm the director that you turned down," he answered brusquely before Juho even had time to think. 'Uh, oh!' His brain spun faster than usual. "I'm not sure what you're talking about. Now, if you don't mind, I have a place to…" "Mr. Yun Woo." "Haha! Yep, you hear that name everywhere nowadays," he gave a nonsense answer as he slowly stepped back. He couldn't decide whether he should run or try to strike a conversation with him. 'What's a director doing in front of a publishing company? Is he here to see me? Then, I should probably try to talk to him at least…' He contemplated. He studied the director's face to see if he had come to express his resentment towards being turned down, but rather than anger, there was nothing but certainty. He seemed certain that Juho was Yun Woo. 'How did he know? It's not like it's written on my face,' Juho thought. "You were looking at that family over there just now, right?" the director asked as a way to keep Juho from running away. "An average high school student wouldn't look at a family like that. Not just high school students, but people in general. They would walk right past them because they're busy surviving. Unless they work in a field like the one you and I work in, they wouldn't bother. You're an author, am I right?" he explained his reason for thinking Juho to be Yun Woo. The field, he must have meant a field of work that required an individual to make detailed observations in a regular basis. Regardless of field, there were occupations like that. One of them was being a writer. Being a director was probably similar. He had to have been observing Juho to reach his conclusion. Juho stopped in his tracks. He had really come looking for Yun Woo. 'What are the odds?' So, he had decided to talk to the director. "What are the odds?" Juho admitted to the director's speculation. "It was bound to happen. I've been coming here every morning to meet you," he said with a smile. "Every morning?" "Yes, right here. Whether it rained or snowed." 'How touching,' Juho thought. At once, he continued as he set aside his jokes, "I apologize if I startled you. It's not pleasant to have a visitor when you had already turned him down before. But give me just a little bit of your time. I brought the scenario." His coarse hands moved about in the air. His exaggerated movements were telling Juho that he was nervous. "I'd really like to make your book into a movie, Mr. Woo. I've read it at least twenty times. I must do this," he said determinedly. The fact that he had been waiting for him day in and day out had already been impressive. However, what really left an impression was the intense passion in his eyes. There was desperation behind them. It wasn't something Juho saw everyday. "Well then, should we discuss more over tea?" "That sounds great!" the director answered with a bright smile. At that moment, Juho saw Nam Kyung in the distance. He was running and shouting something. "Speak of the devil! There comes the editor. We should all go together. Huh… he looks like he's in a rush. I wonder what's going on." Contrary to Juho, the director seemed to have an idea. "He must have heard about a strange man lingering around his office. I sensed that the employees there have been looking at me suspiciously for the last several days," he said nonchalantly. Soon, Nam Kyung stopped as he gasped for air. He took turns looking at Juho and then the director. "Why are you here? I've heard about a strange… Mr. Ju?! What are you doing here?!" Sang Young Ju, that was his name.

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63 Chapter 63 - Who are You? 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "I was told that he's here to meet me," Juho said to Nam Kyung as he struggled to understand the situation. 'Did you tell him who you are?' he asked with his eyes, and Juho nodded lightly. At that, Nam Kyung's face lightened up. He had been hoping for a film adaptation and to work with Sang Young. Though it had been a bit sudden, the situation wasn't entirely undesirable. As Nam Kyung and Sang Young greeted each other, Juho remembered what he had heard about Sang Young in the past. 'A baby bird,' that had been the description, 'a baby bird that was about to soar up to the sky.' Juho looked at him. With his untidy beard, curly hair, and dusty jeans, his appearance was far from that of a baby bird. "Now, should we go inside? We have a meeting room in the office." "Sounds good. I was just about to think that it was hopeless when you turned me down without hesitation." "You came a long way. The least we can do is treat you to a cup of tea," Juho said with a smile. "Well then, I guess the only thing left to do is to convince you." "My real name is Juho Woo. Please call me Juho." "I'm Sang Young Ju. As long as you don't call me ahjussi, I'm OK with just about anything." He must not have liked the sound of it when Juho had first called him that. His reasoning was understandable. However, he was no more or less than an ahjussi to Juho at the moment. After all, Juho was a high school student. Still, after a quick thought, he said, "Yes, Mr. Ju." 'That should do it,' he thought. Sang Young seemed much more satisfied. The three sat across from each other, and Juho carefully studied Sang Young from his place. He was someone who had come looking for Yun Woo without knowing whether or not he'd be able to meet him. "I've gotta confess. Whenever I had time, I lingered around your office to meet Mr. Woo, but I'm not up to no good or anything." Nam Kyung nodded and promised to explain things to his coworkers. Sang Young's husky voice gave off a very strong impression. It sounded like it had been worn out from overuse. At once, Juho felt the desire for success in that husky voice. After he had finished talking to Nam Kyung, he turned to Juho. "You really are a student." "Haha." Sang Young, too, had been studying Juho. He may have had a young face, but it was apparent that he was an author. Sang Young had already seen Juho's eyes as he carefully studied someone. They were the eyes of an author. To meet Juho, he had decided to camp out in front of Nam Kyung's publishing company. Because Yun Woo was an alias, he didn't even know how to get a hold of him. Whenever a student walked past him, he stopped them to ask, "Are you Yun Woo?" After dozens of failures, Sang Young was finally able to meet him. Finally, he grabbed hold of the opportunity. Suppressing his urgency and anxiety, he focused on the prey before his eyes. "So, how is it having success at such a young age?" he asked as if he were taunting Juho. Perhaps, he was testing him. However, there was no jealousy in his question. In other words, no matter what Juho said in response, Sang Young wasn't going to perverse it into malice or jealousy. For that reason, Juho decided to give him an honest answer. "Not so great." "How so? I'd be on cloud nine if I were in your shoes." Of course, Juho didn't get the impression that Sang Young was mocking. 'I like this guy,' he thought. "Success is a good thing," Juho added. "Then, what's the issue?" "Me. I'm the issue." Success, money and fame were not bad in and of themselves. Being known and seen by others was a good thing. The issue was with oneself. Nobody was big enough to bear such burdens. It hindered their sight and kept them from watching their steps. "Success more than one can manage. It's much worse than failure. Although it's not about giving itself, it almost feels like you've been given something just so it can be taken away." In the end, he had fallen and scraped his knees. He had dropped everything within his embrace. His burden had been so big that it would've taken ages just to pick up the things that had fallen on the ground. He had to stretch and improve his endurance. "I see," Sang Young answered. "I think I can almost understand how you were able to write a book like that." With that, he reached into his jacket to take something out. It was the scenario, and he placed it onto the glass table. 'Working Title: The Trace of a Bird.' "While you were turning down all of the offers from various directors, including myself, I've been working on this. Please, take a look." Juho looked quietly at the scenario. "Did you write this personally?" he asked. "No, we have a writer, who is also my wife." Now it made sense to Juho as to how Sang Young had been able to recognize him. "She's gorgeous. Would you like to see a picture?" Seeing his apparent devotion to his wife, Juho respectfully declined. He asked Sang Young instead of picking up and reading the scenario, "You said that you've read my book at least twenty times, correct?" It was a very basic confirmation, but he was curious about the director's perspective toward his work. "Yes. I know it's redundant for me to say, but it left me with a deep impression, and that's what has brought me here," he said with a serious face. "I'm curious as to what you felt." "It's dark, and then it becomes bright," he answered after a brief thought. Like his coarse hands, it was an answer that fit his appearance. "That's very concise." "Isn't it accurate though?" Though he sounded like he was emphasizing the visual aspect more, he wasn't wrong. The story did really get brighter in the end. "As soon as I thought of that, I decided to make it into a movie," he added calmly. He thought about the very end of the book. It was the part where the protagonist Yun resolved to face his fears. Although he had been reading, there were vivid images in his head. It had almost felt more vivid than a movie. Before he knew, Sang Young had become Yun in his mind, experiencing the situation firsthand. He had been moved deeply as he connected with his emotions. As evidence, he had shed tears for the first time in years. "Yun comes to face the sun in the end. He finally faces what he had been giving up. It left me with a strong impression," he said as he quietly observed Yun Woo. His real name was Juho Woo. He had been sitting there quietly as Sang Young complimented the book left and right, which was very unusual for a high school student. He had wondered if Juho was simply used to compliments, but there was no trace of arrogance in his expression. From the way he had spoken earlier to his attitude at present, something was different about him. 'I suppose that's how he was able to write such a book.' Sang Young was all the more determined. "Do you know why I have been turning down directors who want to make my book into a movie?" Juho asked calmly. Sang Young knew it by instinct. 'This is it.' His answer would determine the outcome, so he closed his eyes briefly. He was desperate to convince that young author. Then, he opened his eyes as he clenched his hands into fists. "A book and movie are innately different, from their names to their characters. There's bound to be a reason why a novel is a novel. I believe that novels are different from movies," Juho continued as he stared at Sang Young's fists. Sang Young nodded. It was true that the two were inherently different. He had never been the type to be desperate. The moment he had become a movie director, he had believed that his dream had already come true. From then on, the priority was to live a life without failure. His normal self wouldn't have bothered to think about adapting a novel into a movie. He wouldn't have thought twice about camping out in front of a publishing company just to meet the author. However, that book was different. It urged him, and it took him that far. "You're right. There have been countless failures," he answered, Regardless of the country, film adaptations had always been prevalent in the film history. Like what Juho had said, it might have been that a novel shone the brightest when it stayed true to its original form. Yet, Sang Young wanted to make every bit of 'The Trace of a Bird' into a movie because he had seen its potential. "I'm aware, yet I still wanted to make your book into a film." Juho looked at him, silently asking for a reason. "I've learned that there are things that I seek in your book." "What would those be?" "Drawing near." "To whom?" "A person." 'A person.' He continued, "I had seen the same light as Yun in the book. We had overcome his darkness together. Then, I realized that I was connecting with him. I was communicating with him. I was so proud of Yun and myself. It almost felt like I had become Yun." Juho nodded as he urged him, "Please, continue." "I'm a simple man. What I found at the end was pleasure. There's no sophisticated philosophy or anything like that. I seek after the pleasure in my work. My desire is that more people are able to connect and communicate with one another through my movies. I'll do whatever it takes to maximize that effect. The best actors and actresses, scenario, soundtrack, background, camera, anything." He looked at Juho's direction and didn't avoid making eye contact. He continued as he slammed his hand down on the scenario, "I want more people to watch my movies. Even just one more. I want the audience to be happy. I want them to feel the life in the characters on the screen. I want them to be drunk with pleasure as they walk out of the theater." The scenario underneath his hand crumpled up slightly. "In order to achieve that, I need your permission, Mr. Woo," he said with his eyes fixed on Juho. Juho thought for a moment, 'Why did I go such a length? What is it that I want to hear from this starving man before my eyes? What is it that I want to see?' What Sang Young had been after was emotion. There were no words or pictures to an emotion. It had no regards for logic. The moment one exchanged it with another person, it immediately grew in size. It was no exception for the characters in a book or behind a screen. They came alive the moment the shared their emotions. They communicated with the audience as they revealed their own. In the end, there was pleasure. That mystical experience was more than enough to charm people. One fell in love with a movie or a book as soon as he had such an experience. Their feelings puffed up and left them desperate to love something or someone. That was what Sang Young wanted to share with his audience. He wanted to create that moment with his own hands. 'Then what is it that I want?' Juho already knew the answer. "Can you make it even more vivid than my writing?" "Huh?" he asked with a confused look. "Can you beat my work?" Juho asked seriously. He wanted Sang Young's movie to captivate people even more than what he had written.

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64 Chapter 64 - Who are You? 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Juho too, wanted to experience the characters behind the screen coming alive. He wanted to be one of the audience members Sang Young had described. He wanted to walk out of the theater with excitement. For that reason, he wanted to feel anger, the desire to write, and a small amount of happiness. In order for that to happen, the film adaptation had to surpass its original counterpart. After all, he had created the original. Because that was what he had wanted, he hadn't attached any conditions for directors wanting to make his book into a film. Maybe the young Juho in the past would have wanted the same thing. For that reason, he had felt angry and disappointed. "Are you confident that you can make something that surpasses my work?" Sang Young looked at him with surprise, and Juho heard Nam Kyung taking a deep breath. "You mean more so than the original?" "That's right." There was silence. As he waited quietly, Juho felt certain that Sang Young would be the perfect director. He had come looking for Yun Woo at Nam Kyung's publishing company multiple times and, after many failures, he had finally succeeded. Now, they were sitting across from each other. Sang Young had been reaching his limits in his conversation with Juho. He had been fiercely determined to make it happen. The fire had been apparent in his eyes, and he had been responding to Juho's provocations. 'I'm sure it won't be that difficult for him, but he has more than what it takes,' Juho thought. Sang Young's lips trembled ever so slightly. "Very well," he answered with his distinctively husky voice. "I'll do whatever it takes to make an adaptation that surpasses the original." If he were to overcome the difference between novel and movie, or words and images, and captivate the author with its result, there could be something for Juho to write about in his next book. "Haha," Juho laughed as a gesture of consent. That day, the three remained together and spent a long time talking over a meal. Juho still hadn't read the scenario, and he hadn't attached any conditions to the project. He had given Sang Young full creative authority and freedom. Everything had gone smoothly, and it didn't take long for the news to spread. Countless articles poured out. It had become widely known that Yun Woo had been turning down directors wanting to make a film adaption of his book. Sang Young had been in several interviews since then, and without fail, every one of them had asked about Yun Woo. "I'm sure you've met with Yun Woo by now. What was that like?" "How did you manage to convince him?" "Could you describe his appearance?" "What was it like having a conversation with him?" No matter the question, Sang Young gave the same answer, "I prefer to keep that to myself." Although the internet exploded with complaints, Sang Young hardly read any of the articles online. His sole interest was in the production of his movie, and soon, the process began to breed questions for Juho. Because Sang Young had been looking for some sort of influence in direction, he started pouring out questions for Juho. However, Juho gave him no answers. Unlike Sang Young, what he had been looking for was the interpretation of the readers. They had constantly clashed, and that had continued to that day. One day, they had made plans to meet for dinner at a barbecue restaurant. When Sang Young arrived, he was still in his worn out jeans, but he opened his mouth as soon he sat down. "So, about the personalities." "It's up to you. It's up to the reader how he interprets the book." Whenever the two met, they exchanged the same conversation dozens of times. Neither of them gave way. "Really? Not even a hint?" "I'm giving you creative freedom instead." "C'mon, just a tiny one?" "You already have the scenario written. You'd know by now." "I'm just trying to make a good movie here." "Your interpretation is enough for me," he answered as he brought a cooked piece of meat into his mouth. Sang Young grumbled, but Juho paid no attention. "It's a gamble, but what about romance?" At that, the scenes from the past film adaptation rushed past Juho's head. It had been smothered with romance that hadn't been in the book. Though he hesitated for a brief moment, he brushed it off as soon as he saw the person sitting in front of him. "Whatever your heart desires," he answered with a shrug as he chewed on his food. 'This director is different from the one I worked with in the past. He's not going to settle for some romance movie.' "You're not going to visit the set even after we start filming, are you?" "What would I do there?" "Aren't you curious about how movies are made?" 'Not really…' Juho thought. "It'd shatter my fantasy of movies. I'll just wait till it comes out in the theaters." "If you say so. You know, you're nothing like other high school students. Maybe it's 'cause you're a writer or something," Sang Young answered as he rolled his eyes. "I'm a high school student AND a writer." "Working two jobs, huh? Must be tough." "My sleep suffers a bit, but eh... What can I do?" "It's gotten harder for teenagers to find part-time work, huh?" "Not if you have your parents' consent." "It's better not to work at that age." Then he began to share his experiences of his past jobs. Apparently, he had worked at a barbecue restaurant like the one they were in, a car wash, a gas station, and even in a prop management team. "It was tough. There's a saying that there are great lessons to be learned from suffering early. I hated that crap. Look at me. If you suffer when you're young, you'll suffer when you're older." At that, Juho reminisced about his past. After repeating all kinds of failures for the span of thirty years, he had found himself accustomed to failing. He no longer had the desire to do anything. He had been like a dead plant with its leaves hanging lifelessly. That had been what it looked like to be familiar with failure. 'I'm sure it's the same for suffering,' he thought. Once a person had grown accustomed to suffering, growing out of it would have been more suffering in and of itself. "Because I've gone through so much, I do whatever it takes to stay away from suffering." "That's not necessarily a bad thing." "Who said anything about it being bad? I've led a good life. I'm just saying that I'd been forgetting things." "What have you been forgetting?" "When I was young, I'd always been the kid who ran straight for the net," he said as he chuckled. "I'm sure your teammates had a lot to say about that." "If there was a ball before me, I kicked it. I didn't think twice. I was just so desperate to score a goal. I kept kicking until it made it into the net. I thought of one thing as I stood in front of the goal post. 'I want to be successful,'" he continued without paying attention to Juho's answer. Apparently, his longing for success had been greater than his fear of failure at one point in his life. "I'd been forgetting that this entire time. I was busy suffering and dating my wife. I'm confident that I've led a happy life. But after reading your book and connecting emotionally with Yun, I realized that I've been living in darkness all along. I've been wanting something all along, but I was too afraid. I'm not saying giving up is a bad thing, but I was taken aback that my decision was something that took place in between my stream of consciousness. It all happened so naturally, without anyone knowing. I didn't bother to kick the ball any more. I gave up on trying new things," he said as he put a piece of meat into his mouth, chewing. "Before I knew it, my eyes had already adapted to darkness. Now, I can see what's before me even with the tiniest of lights. It all happened before I even became aware," he said as he looked at Juho. "Even if I hadn't read your book, I would've been content still. I feel burdened just from avoiding failure, but there was something about the book that kept urging me. It kept asking me if I wanted to see what was on the other side of darkness," he said as he took a sip of water. "So, I decided to make a movie with the book that shook me at the core. It had been a big decision for me, but the answer had been a "no." It would have been embarrassing to give up on my first try, so I went looking for you. After I met you, I finally earned the copyright. I'd finally done it. But you know what? The real doozy is that this is just a beginning." He had resolved himself to making a film adaptation that surpassed the original. It had just begun. "On that note, do you have anything to tell me about the brother?" he asked impatiently as he brought another piece of meat to his mouth. 'I'm sure he didn't say all that just so he could ask me that,' Juho thought as he chuckled. "I almost gave you an answer there." Sang Young had been referring to Yun's older brother in 'The Trace of a Bird.' He was much older and he didn't have a job. He hadn't been around much either. He was hardly a decent human being. Sang Young didn't let up. "He's got a girl pregnant, hasn't he? He becomes a dad in the end, right?" He asked watchfully. It had been quite a sensitive question. Yun's brother had a charm that drew people to him. Among those who liked and followed him, there were also girls. He had gotten one of them pregnant in fact. When he found out, he visited his younger brother for the first time in several years. "The brother is afraid of birds too, isn't he?" Juho nodded. Both Yun and his brother had the same fear, but there was a difference in the way they manifested. The older brother ran outward while Yun inward. "Is he going to make his girlfriend get an abortion?" Sang Young asked like he was trying to pry out an answer from Juho, who just kept smiling. The book didn't clarify what the brother had decided to do. After leaving Yun's house, his name never came up again. "Why do you ask? How did you want to portray him?" he asked back. "Hm…" Sang Young groaned as he thought for quite some time. "I think he'll do it." "He'll do what?" "Commit murder." 'Murder.' Juho looked at the pieces of meat that had been sizzling on the grill. They were no longer alive. Yun slowly spiraled down into darkness. Boringly, and awkwardly. Deep inside, he couldn't hate himself. No matter what anyone said, his priority had been himself. He hated pain to a fault and, because of that, he didn't leave his house. On the contrary, his brother had been destructive. He had led a reckless life with no regards for those around him. He didn't care one bit for himself and had let go of his life in a way that almost felt refreshing. Perhaps, that was what made him so charming. The reason why Juho hadn't written about the brother in more detail was because he simply couldn't describe him in writing. It hadn't been because he had wanted to leave room for interpretation. He just couldn't dare to write in detail about his destructive life. He couldn't pull himself together to write the scene where the brother was telling his girlfriend to kill the baby. "Get rid of it. Kill it." He would've said things to that effect. After all, he had already been at a place where he couldn't help himself. Sang Young had interpreted things accurately. The brother was more than capable of killing someone. "If he's capable of killing a bird the way he did, he wouldn't have much trouble killing a person." His way of overcoming his fear was to remove the very thing that he was afraid of. Juho started to look forward to Sang Young's movie. He had been following Juho's thought process to a tee. 'How would this turn out? What would 'The Trace of a Bird' look like as a movie?' he thought as he put a piece of meat into his mouth.

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65 Chapter 65 - A White Piece of Paper from the Sky 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "If that's what the brother's thinking, then that's gotta be it." "Still no answer, huh? I can't say I didn't expect that," Sang Young said. "He's a charming person, that one. If anybody, I really want to be intentional about picking the right person for that role." "I'll be looking forward to it." "You too?!? It's already nerve-racking as is!" "C'mon, where's your confidence?" "A person's heart tends to be fickle like that. What's important is that you keep going." Sang Young was not going to let anything hold him back. The expectations were through the roof, and the fans of the original would be judging his movie with strict standards. It would be natural for anyone to be anxious. Still, he had to make it happen. "You'll do great. It's time for you to spread your wings, Mr. Joo." "You're dang right about that. It's about time. After all, what is there to be afraid of when I've convinced an author like you?" he said drily. "I didn't mean for you to shift the burdens onto my shoulders." "Burdens are supposed to be shared. I haven't said a word to the reporters, so think of it as compensation," he said as he picked up the pieces of meat on the verge of burning and put them on top of Juho's rice. Juho ate without saying much. It was uncertain when the movie was going to come out, but he had something to look forward to. "Thank you for dinner." "Of course." Juho thanked Sang Young while he stood in front of the register to pay for their meal. It was already dark by the time they walked out. They had lost track of time eating and talking to each other. Juho stepped out of the restaurant first. "Sigh," he let out. He had been having some trouble with his next book. The overall storyline had already been defined and he had been happy with the characters and the developments throughout the story. Only, there was one thing lacking. There was nothing driving the protagonist. 'What would be the best thing to bring her to regret?' he thought. Although he had had some ideas, none of them had been what he was looking for. He wanted an image that represented something bigger. The mother in the story shared many similarities with the older brother in 'The Trace of a Bird.' She was destructive and twisted. This time, however, Juho didn't want to avoid the challenge. He wanted to bring this dark, disturbing character to life in his next book. After all, he was different from his old self and he wanted to prove that to himself. 'After having gotten pregnant, the lady gave birth to a son. Then, she regretted the decisions she'd made.' The more Juho wrote and gave the character a shape, the more he realized that something crucial was missing. "Do you mind if we hang around for a few minutes? I want a smoke," Sang Young asked after paying for their dinner. "Sure," Juho replied as he snapped out of his thoughts. There was a small smoking area next to a store nearby, so Sang Young took cigarette from his pocket. As Juho watched him lighting it, Sang Young said, "This stuff isn't good for ya. Don't ever pick up smoking." "Haha," Juho laughed. He had already had experience with smoking. In fact, he had been a heavy smoker in the past and done just about anything that was harmful to his health. Even if he hadn't drowned in the river, he would have eventually ended up in the hospital. "Then, what's your reason for smoking when you know it's bad for you?" "Good question." "I value my lungs, so I'll keep my distance for now," he said as he turned around and heard Sang Young grumbling behind him. Just as he was about to walk away, he smelled a faint whiff of burning cigarette. It had been a smell that accompanied a grey, murky smoke. He stopped in place as he saw the smoke from Sang Young's cigarette lingering around the corner his eye. At the sight of the smoke slowly drifting away, he had felt a tingling sensation in his hand. "What's the matter?" Sang Young asked, and Juho turned around. 'That's it!' Inspiration had struck him at the least expected moment. He looked at the cigarette in Sang Young's hand that was burning ember. It was a fleeting spark. "Huh? What is it?" Sang Young asked as he realized Juho was looking at him. Juho approached him with a serious expression, and Sang Young blinked, looking confused. "So…" "Yeah, what is it? Do you have an upset stomach?" he asked as the cigarette in his hand burned away, slowly being reduced to white ash. "I think I need to go." "Huh?" Sang Young asked as he looked at Juho. His cigarette kept burning in his hand. Their eyes met. No, to be precise, Juho studied the way Sang Young looked at his cigarette. "If you'll excuse me." "Did you remember something urgent?" "I need to write!" "What?" 'What did this kid just say?' he asked himself dumbfoundedly. As if not seeing the confusion in Sang Young's face, Juho bowed and started running. Sang Young stared at him in the distance. 'He's fast.' He took a drag of his cigarette, and a thick cloud of smoke came out of his mouth and nose. He thought about what he had just seen in Juho's eyes. Dry. Calm. Longing for something. "What was that about?" Those eyes had lacked something. He had been thirsting for something. 'Why would he have such look on his face when he's already a bestselling author in his teens?' he asked himself with his cigarette in his hand still. At that moment, he remembered. Those had been Yun's eyes - a character who hid himself in the darkness and held his breath in fear, yet, longed for light. Sang Young put his cigarette out in his portable ashtray. Its gray ash scattered about. 'That's it!' He had thought of a way to maximize Yun's character, Juho's eyes, his dry, desolate, yet desperate eyes. Sang Young started running with his curly, untidy hair waving in the wind. * Juho had been running while writing in his notepad. He hadn't been doing a good job with either writing or running. Yet, he kept scribbling on his notepad as he ran. He didn't want to forget. He didn't want to lose what had finally come to him after desperately longing for it. To some, he might have looked ridiculous, but he kept running. He couldn't afford to think about how others were looking at him. "Damn it! Hills!?" He started to run out of breath as he ran uphill. Though he had been running for some time, there was still a long way to go. Many scenes were coming in and out of his mind, and he didn't want to miss a single one. He felt like they would evaporate if he didn't take hold of them. Fighting for his breath, he kept running. A cigarette, there had been a cigarette burning in Sang Young's hand. There was no turning back the moment it was lit. There was nothing that could be done other than it being reduced to mere ashes. That was just the image Juho had been looking for. "Hey, you're home." "Hi!" he answered loudly. After greeting his mother in a hurry, he rushed into his room and picked up his pen. 'Cigarette, baby, mom, the protagonist, perspective, development, story, pregnancy. Carrying a new life. A state of bearing a child or a baby. A sign of birth. All covered in gray ash.' The story quickly moved forward in his head, so he had to write down the scenes that were playing in his head like a movie. The screen came on as he turned on his computer, and he took a deep breath. 'Let's calm down. I have to write pragmatically. I can't be too excited and let go of this stream of consciousness. If I'm led by what I write, it won't come out right." By the time he couldn't hear his breathing anymore, a scene revealed itself to him. There was a woman lying on the bed. Her face was buried in the blanket, and she never looked up. Juho quietly approached her. The fabric rustled as he sat on the bed beside her. Despite his presence, the woman didn't bother to look up. He quietly reached over to her and brushed her long hair to the side. Her thin, white neck became visible. With his eyes closed, he put his face against it and inhaled. She smelled like flesh. It was her somewhat suffocating scent. He felt like his lungs would rot from deep within. Her body had been bearing that stench. He slowly opened his eyes. Everything was fuzzy. He was blinded by a white cloud of smoke. Yet, they didn't call for one another. They communicated with one another in silence. He saw her silhouette moving in the smoke, and she looked in his direction. He tried to get a better look at her, but he couldn't see her eyes through the smoke. Still, it had been apparent, she was filled with regret. She was sinking to the depths of it. He closed his eyes again. Now, there was a puddle of water reflecting various emotions, words, objects, and stories. As he dipped his hand into it, he felt its coldness traveling up from the tip of his fingers. Suddenly, he came to his senses. 'Not bad. Now is the time.' He had set aside anything that disrupted his mind. He had put down any concerns or obsessions for change and future. Juho focused his attention to his fingertips as he remembered the sensation of his hand dipping into the cold puddle, and the screen filled up with words as his hands moved. --- He saw a river flowing peacefully. "Yawn," he loosened as he looked at the water. He had been writing late into night for the past two days. His new book had been flowing toward its finale like the river, and it had been a very smooth process. He wrote whenever he had a chance. At his mother's urges, he had decided to go out for a walk by the river. His mind had been quite tired from writing all day, so he didn't try to object. He sat under a bridge, not finding it repulsive to sit on the ground, and stared quietly at the water. The more he saw the wavelets break, the more he wanted to get near them. As impulsive as he tended to be, it would've been dangerous to be closer to the water. The color of the water was closer to black than blue. It hadn't been all that pretty. It had been deep and dark and seemingly dangerous, even at a glance. Maybe his experience with the river had something to do with it. He reminisced to the day when he drowned in the water. Water that flowed in from various sources mixed into one river. There was no 'individual' in there. He reminisced to his experience while he had been in the water. He hadn't been able to make anything out. He hadn't been able to hear his own breathing. Everything had been dark. Everything had been white, so perhaps, he had been blind. It had been kind of quiet but noisy at the same time. In the end, nothing was accurate. A memory tended to fade over time. Juho knew that he would forget all of those memories within a year. He wouldn't be able to remember them even if he tried. He would probably try to find bits and pieces of his memories and move them around until they fit. He took out a pen and a small notebook. That was why he needed them. Letters, if he were to leave records of his memories, he would be able to hold onto them a little longer. He thought about his next book. He had come out to take a break, but his mind was already back at it before he realized. It kept itself busy even when he wanted to clear his head. He didn't resist. He had written his next book in Yun Woo's style. It was his next book, so it would have been natural to do so. For an author, his style was a direct translation of his personality. Like fingerprint, it was something that defined him as that author. One would truly become an author only when they had a style of their own. Now, Juho had two - his flashy, yet controlled style in 'The Trace of a Bird,' and another style that'd been shaped by thirty years of experience as an author. That had been the proof. It had been the proof of time and the fact that he had gone back to the past. A boy who was once pure had become arrogant and, eventually, met his downfall. As he was about to soar into the sky once again after having fallen into the icy river, his wings were soaked. He couldn't do anything but to look up at the sky. So, he looked up at the blue sky. It was high. There was no wind or cloud. In the midst of the peaceful sky, he saw something white falling. "What's this?" The object moved busily in the air and, soon, fell onto the ground. He reached over and read it. "It's a manuscript." There were even letters. Two quotation marks, somebody was talking. 'Rustle.' Another sheet of paper fell from the sky, and then another. He looked up. "Whoa!" Dozens of pages were flying in the sky.

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66 Chapter 66 - A White Piece of Paper from the Sky 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Another sheet of paper came down. The sunlight shone between the pages. Once Juho opened his eyes after briefly closing them, all of the pages lay on the ground. He picked the scattered pages up one by one. Every page had been filled with writing. There had been a character, a development, a background and a theme. When he collected all of the pages, he saw there were enough to make up a medium- to full-length novel. Seeing how they had been neatly printed, it must have been a draft that had already been revised. 'Who'd toss something like this?' he thought as he brushed the dirt off. He looked up in order to find out who the pages belonged to. There was a bridge and a pair of hands sticking out of it. The empty pair of hands was hanging loosely in the air. "You could get fined for littering here," Juho said with emphasis. The hands in the air flinched, then a sigh followed. "This damn world… Everything's about money," the person sounded depressed. "I was just kidding," Juho said to encourage him. "... Who are you kid?" "I'm a just a student who came out for a walk by the water. I've picked up all of your pages, so you won't have to worry about being fined." "Why bother? It's all trash," the man said faintly. He was murmuring, but Juho couldn't hear from where he was. "I'll bring it up to you. Don't go anywhere." "Don't bother. I'm leaving." Juho ignored him and went up to the bridge. Though the man could have left by the time Juho had made it up to the bridge, Juho still went after him. As he walked up the stairs, he saw the man on the bridge, looking just as depressed as he had sounded. "Here ya go," Juho said as he pulled out the stack of papers. "They're not mine," the man answered as he looked briefly at the pages in Juho's hand. "Then, whose are they?" "That's what I want to ask. I'd like to know who's responsible for writing a piece of crap like that," he said with a self-deprecating snicker. 'That's one way to say yes,' Juho thought. "Are you a writer?" he asked. "No," the man answered. "Then, are you aspiring to be one?" "... a rather promising one at that," the man said almost like an excuse. "So, why the long face?"Juho asked as he nodded. "Who's asking?" "I'm part of a Literature Club. My teacher always tells me and the other members that we have to pay attention to our surroundings if we want to be better writers." The man nodded as he looked down from the bridge. "That's right. You should stay alert at all times. My teacher said something similar, many times." "Sounds like we have similar teachers." "I don't know. My teacher's probably a lot more impressive," he said like a child showing off his parents. "Is that so? There's a saying that a great pupil comes from a great teacher." "... That's right. That's why I said 'promising.'" 'Dang it,' Juho thought. The man was back to his depressed state. "I guess I might as well speak my mind while somebody's actually listening. I'm going to regret this later, but whatever," he said with a sigh as he quietly looked at Juho and, with that, he started sharing his story. "So, I competed in an essay contest, right?" "Uh, huh." "It was a huge contest hosted by a big publishing company. Oh, wait, you're in the Literature Club, so you should know. It was an opportunity to set my foot into the literary world." "Right." "That's what I had been part of. I had seriously worked my butt off," he emphasized. "I really worked hard. I wrote all day, everyday. Not only is my teacher a great person, but he's also an amazing writer. I wanted to be just like him. I thought I had what it took." "And then?" "Then, I didn't make it. Like the pages I threw off the bridge," he said as he looked down. His voice shook as if he were getting emotional. 'He's not crying, is he? He looks like he's at least thirty,' Juho chuckled. "Are you crying?" "No." Juho put his arms up on the rail the man had been leaning on and felt its cold metal surface in his hand, piercing through his palm. "You could always try again." He sighed deeply and said, "You're right. It's such an obvious answer, even to a kid like you. So, that's what I did. When I didn't make it to the finals, I started writing again." His eyes turned to his pages. They had been proof of the challenge, and Juho followed his eyes to the stack of paper. "Was it that bad?" "... well, not THAT bad." Juho smiled at his timid objection. In the way he had tossed his composition away, that he complained to a high school whom he had never met before, and was now getting teary eyed, Juho saw his old self in that man. He had been exactly the same way. He had been in a rut without knowing where to go. He had trembled without knowing what he should go toward. "I need a drink," the man said. "That doesn't sound wise." The man snickered at Juho's answer. "I'm an adult you know." "If you drink now, your legs will feel even weaker." "Legs?" He asked as he looked at his legs and then the bridge he was on. "Is this bridge shaking?" Then, he sighed deeply and said, "Don't be like me when you grow up." "Why not? You have a promising talent." "That's not everything." "Then?" "It's time." "Time? What time?" "Do you know how many years I've spent as an aspiring writer with 'promising talent?'" "No." 'How would I know that? We've just met,' Juho thought. "Ten years." Ten years, it had been a long time. "I've wanted to be an author ever since I was twenty. I came up to Seoul after getting into a university, and then I went to my teacher to become his pupil. I'm thirty now," he said as he rubbed the handrail. "Of course, I've tried a bunch of different jobs. I had to make a living, you know? I've even got myself a corporate job at one point with my friend's recommendation. There wasn't a whole lot of time to write, but it wasn't half bad. The stable income really helped, but in the end, I came back to being an aspiring writer because I wanted to write. My teacher accepted me without any criticism." "But I guess I don't have what it takes. It took me thirty years to realize that. I should've stayed at that company," he added as he looked down. "Do you regret your past?" "There are plenty of people like me - people who don't get past their aspiring stage. There are plenty of people who don't realize that that's not their path. Everyone who studied with my teacher around the same time as me gave up. They're all busy trying to get all these licenses," he gave Juho what sounded more like an excuse than an answer. "It's too late for me. There's no hope for somebody like me," he murmured and then added in a self-deprecating manner, "Well, how do you feel now? You really don't want to be like me when you grow up, right?" "I inherently can't become someone I'm not." "Yeah, I'm sure. I don't see why you'd want to be like me." It was as if he hadn't even been listening to Juho. He was too exhausted to listen, to keep his ears open. "Then who would YOU like to be?" Juho asked. "Yun Woo," he answered like a sigh. 'Yun Woo?' "Who?" "Yun Woo? The author?" 'How friendly of him,' Juho thought as he remained quiet. "Bookworms or not, I'm sure kids nowadays know who that is. He's your age." "... I know who that is. Yun Woo, he's famous." "Yep." 'Famous, huh?' "Are you telling me to be famous?" Juho asked after a quick thought. "It's better than being a no-name, aspiring writer." "Is that right?" He looked away at Juho's bland answer. His expression had grown darker. "You don't seem all that excited. Oh, wait! Maybe it has something to do with your age. In that case, I understand." "What do you mean?" "Jealousy, the sense of inferiority, and the sense that he's different from you. The closer you are in age and field, the more you tend to be affected by emotions like those. Do you know when he debuted?" the man asked as he looked at Juho. "He won a contest when he was sixteen." "That's right, an essay contest. I was in that same contest." 'Huh. What are the odds?' Juho thought. Yun Woo had surpassed him. As a result, he had become a bestselling author while the man had remained an aspiring writer. Juho scratched his head. Though he had initially come out for a break, he somehow ended up conversing with someone who had been made victim by his book. Of course, that man would never know. After some brief contemplation, Juho looked at the man. 'What's his opinion of Yun Woo?' Now was a good time, so Juho slowly opened his mouth, and said, "It must've been tough. He's much younger." "That's right. It burned quite a bit. I've probably written twice as much as that punk. I was confident too. I thought things would be different that time." "And then it didn't work out." "This kid came out of nowhere and became a star. It must be nice being young. He's got skills on top of that. He's got it all." "Do you feel bitter about that?" There was silence. He smiled dejectedly as he looked down. "If I did, I would be throwing pages of his book instead of my own." Juho looked at the stack of paper in his hand that had fallen on him. "You should have. Why didn't you? Why did you throw away your own work?" "I may have been 'aspiring' for a while, but I'm still looking to be an author. I respect my books." "That's admirable." "If I were in your shoes, I would have ripped up 'The Trace of a Bird' as I shouted from the top of my lungs, cursing out the judges. I probably would've ranted about them making poor choices too," Juho said honestly. " He chuckled. "I felt confident. I even got a good feedback from my teacher. I thought I was finally going to make it, but the reality was different. There was some kid who had just graduated from middle school in front of me. I couldn't accept it." "But then?" "But then it all made sense when I read his novel. He had something I didn't. Themes and perspectives that I'd never even thought of. He wrote so calmly. I gave up as soon as I read it," he said as he threw his hands into the air. Juho kept his eyes fixed on those hands. That hadn't been true. Yun Woo hadn't been as great of a character as the man had described. Juho couldn't bring himself to read through the book that he had written. It had been crude and foul. It had been no more than a mass of emotional remnants. The difference in their perspective weighed on Juho's shoulders. "After that, I wasn't happy with anything I wrote. This is it for me, throwing away my own composition off the bridge. You know what's even more lame? Some student brought it back to me." "I'm sorry about that. That does sound kind of lame." "I'm regretting it now as we speak. I should have turned back when you still thought I was 'admirable.' I would have been able to live knowing that at least one person thought I was a somewhat decent human being," he said with sad eyes. Contrary to his sadness, Juho was smiling. The man was funny. He seemed like a person who would throw himself at regrets. If he hadn't gone on, he would've been remembered as someone admirable. If he had been content with his corporate job, he would have remained happy. If he had stopped at his first attempt, he wouldn't be in front of Juho, throwing away his work like trash. Juho walked toward him. He had nothing to say as Yun Woo. Besides the man, there had been many others who had submitted their work. Among them, only one had received the award and debuted as an author. Everyone had pursued after such opportunity. For that reason, as Juho, he had nothing to say. However… "Mister, if you really want to be admirable, you should respect your own writing too." As a student who had picked up his work from the ground, he did have something to say.

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67 Chapter 67 - A White Piece of Paper from the Sky 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Juho handed over the pages he had picked up one by one. They were all dirty and out of order. The man just stared at what was once his composition. "It's trash." "I went out of my way to pick it up." "You can keep it then. I want nothing to do with it. I'm not writing anymore," he said "I really gotta pull myself together. I'm getting older and I'm without a job. I should at least have some sort of license if I want to put food on the table… It's getting embarrassing to see my teacher now," he added as he teared up. The reality of giving up writing was causing him a great deal of pain. "When you hang onto something for a decade, you eventually start to feel numb. You feel anxious and excited at first, but when it gets repeated, you start losing your confidence and your health. All you are left with is your mouth, making empty promises," he said with a sigh. "An author can't afford to grow numb. I've been done with all along. I just couldn't accept it because I've been so attached to it… Are you listening?" When the man looked up after he had finished complaining, he saw Juho was distracted by something. Juho snatched the stack of paper from the man, leaving him behind at a loss for words. "Hey!" "Give me one moment," Juho answered half-heartedly as he focused on reading a sheet of paper. "... Aren't you a weirdo? I can't even complain now. Keeping your ears open, huh? That's fine, I didn't even expect you to anyway. You're not even a counselor or anything, so I guess the fact that you even stuck around means something. In the end, I don't have any stories to tell, and my writing's just depressing," he murmured, but Juho paid no attention. He had turned the page, and then the next. After some time, the overall plot started to make sense. The composition was about cannibalism. A person ate another person. The story unfolded amid the atrocity. It was depressing, colorless and unsettling. He saw the lack of confidence in the writing. It had been provocative and terrifying, but it wasn't bad. "This is good." "What?" he asked weakly. "This composition. I like how depressing it is. It almost feels like it's digging into the depths." The man didn't say anything. "It is gruesome and terrifying, but it comes to me as shocking more so than offensive. That's why I can keep on reading," Juho added as he kept reading. The man couldn't take Juho's words seriously, thinking that he was just a kid. Yet, Juho shared his honest opinion. "It's almost refreshing how depressing it is. You're not holding back on the cruel side of human nature. There's weight to the story, and it lingers in my mind," he said. "When it comes out, I'd like to savor it from cover to cover." The man stayed silent for some time. Eventually, he opened his mouth and asked, "Did you like it?" "Yes, I did," Juho said as he nodded. It had been a good read. "You were going to submit this, right?" "… Yeah." "But then you found yourself losing confidence and feeling depressed, so that's why you threw it off the bridge." "... Yes, you sassy brat." "You're not numb," Juho said with a smile. It had been true. Despite the lifeless look on his face, the man hadn't grown numb. He had misunderstood. He had simply overlooked the remnants of his emotions that had sunk down to the bottom. Juho looked at the composition. Though it was colorless, the emotions were definitely there. He was able to feel them. "If you're not submitting this, can I keep it?" "What?" "You said you're quitting. You won't need it then. Man, this must be my lucky day. Thanks, take care." Juho turned around, leaving the man dumbfounded. Without delay, he started walking away. There were still no signs of movement, so he kept on. Soon, there was quite a distance between the two, but when he saw the end of the bridge, a voice boomed from behind him. "Wait!" Juho looked back. "Yes?" That time, the man approached him. He had run and was now gasping for his breath. The dark circles around his eyes had gotten slightly red. "I never said that. Give it back," he shouted shamelessly. "I thought you said you were quitting?" Juho smiled and asked. "What are you talking about? This is a masterpiece. You might not know, but things like this happen to artists all the time," he said as he snatched the pages from Juho's hands. The sheets crumpled up from his forceful grasp. "Careful." "It doesn't matter. I'm going to print it again anyway. I'll clean it up and send it over to a publishing company." With that, he rushed past Juho, who watched the man from behind. Suddenly, the man stopped in his tracks. "Thanks. It had been a while since I was complimented." "I was only speaking my mind. I'll buy the book when it comes out," Juho answered with a shrug. "Haha! OK, you hang in there till then." A new emotion had appeared on the once lifeless face. When he couldn't see the man anymore, Juho started walking. "Now that I think about it, I didn't even ask his name." 'Would I be able to find his book?' he thought as he scratched his head. --- A few months later, Juho would find a book titled 'Sad Face' at the bookstore. "Writer: Geun Woo Yoo" After finishing the book, Juho found a special thanks at the end of the book. "Special thanks to a sassy brat I met on the bridge." --- The sighing echoed throughout the science room. Unlike usual, there were no comic books or snacks on the desk. Instead, things had been replaced by a depressing silence. "What's gotten into you guys?" Juho asked as he closed the book he had been reading. Nobody answered. There was not a trace of happiness in the club members' faces. Baron was the same way. "The weather is so nice. Look outside." "I guess so…" "I see birds." "Yeah…" Bom said lifelessly. Everyone with the exception of Juho was burying their heads in their arms. Things in the science room had been the complete opposite of the weather outside. Juho scratched his cheek. There had to be a reason for why the club members were so lifeless when they'd always been full of life. "It's OK if you didn't get the award," Juho said in order to encourage them. "It's NOT OK! None of us got an award!" Sun Hwa snapped as she turned teary eyed. She was used to getting good grades, so she was having a hard time accepting the situation. "This is unheard of. I thought we were good writers? How come we didn't get the award?" "Enough with the awards. I'm hurting as it is." "I want the award! It should've been us!" Sun Hwa raised her voice all the more at Seo Kwang's response. He let out a deep sigh and turned his head toward Juho. "Actually, what really doesn't make sense is that you didn't get an award. Shouldn't you have won?" "Well, what can I do? They wouldn't give it to me," Juho answered light-heartedly. "This is serious! There might be some sort of conspiracy behind it, like lobbying, or bribes," Seo Kwang cried out as he lost his temper. A conspiracy theory, they must have been really disappointed. "You didn't get your award either huh, Baron?" Sun Hwa asked weakly. "It's unfortunate, but wouldn't it be odd for the Literature Club to celebrate a member winning an award at an Art Contest?" "Oh, you don't have to be so modest. You were very much included when I said that none of us got an award." "Well, what can I do? They wouldn't give it to me," Baron answered like Juho. Soon, the science room grew silent once again. The birds were chirping outside, and the kids were playing in the schoolyard. The hallway was quiet. Though Juho did prefer a quiet environment over a busy one, the silence in the room was rather uncomfortable. 'I was going to wait, but I guess there's no other way,' Juho thought as he stood up from his seat. 'Drag,' went the chair across the floor, and everyone turned their eyes in the direction of the source. "Where are you going?" "I need to find something." "What are you looking for?" Instead an answer, Juho walked toward the chalkboard where there were still flyers for various contests. "You want an award?" Juho asked as he looked at the flyers. "... Duh. Not that we're writing strictly for awards, but yeah." "Then, you come find it too." "Find what?" Juho turned around as he took off one of the flyers from the chalkboard. "Your next contest." He sat back down and looked through the flyer he'd taken. It was going to take place at a park, and it was the second time it was happening, so it wasn't one with history and tradition. Still, it would be perfect for a casual competition. The club members stared at him as he carefully examined the flyer. Soon, everyone rose from their seats. "You're kind of annoying at times. You know that?" Sun Hwa said. "You too? I thought it was just me," Seo Kwang agreed with her. Bom smiled quietly. The three walked briskly toward the chalkboard like they were racing. "Move, I can't see." "You move! There's the special recognition you like so much." "I'm going to apply somewhere else this time!" "Guys, calm down." Juho looked at the freshmen standing next to one another. As usual, Seo Kwang and Sun Hwa were quarreling, which seemed unnecessary considering the available space. "They're so rowdy," Baron said with his chin resting on his hand. "What about you?" Baron took out a leaf of paper from his sketchbook. In thick letters, it read "Sketching Contest." "I found it a while ago." "Man, aren't you a man of action?!" "Of course!" In the end, everyone found a new contest to compete in. 'How do I encourage these kids?' Mr. Moon was thinking when he walked into the science room, but he soon found out that he no longer had to worry about encouraging those students. The club members were driven by the prospect of their next contest. 'Maybe teaching is what I was meant to do all this time,' he thought as he looked at them proudly. --- "OK, please submit your work by noon! If you need more paper, please come to us with your paper and student ID," the host explained. Juho yawned as he listened. After a brief announcement, the host continued as he turned the page, "The topics for the 2nd Literature Contest are gratitude for your teachers, traveling, and fall." 'Gratitude for your teachers, traveling, and fall.' As the host finished speaking, the contestants each took a seat throughout the park. The current time was nine in the morning, so there was plenty of time. Juho looked around in search for a place to write, but all of the benches had already been taken. There were people who had come to the park with their children, and they looked at the contestants with curiosity. He went further into the park and found a shade under a tree. The trail was surrounded by big boulders, so there was no one around. 'This seems like a good spot.'

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68 Chapter 68 - The Final Encounter 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl There were birds chirping on a tree nearby. Juho had sat on the grass. He took out some papers and a clear plastic underlay and set them on the uneven surface of a boulder. It was the perfect workstation. He felt the coldness travelling up from the ground. An ant crawled by, and he reached down to feel the dirt on his hand. He felt the particles underneath his nails. It was a familiar feeling, and he had a good feeling that time. He sat still as he thought of the given topics: gratitude for your teachers, traveling, and fall. He took quite some time thinking about them as he didn't find any of them all that appealing. To be frank, there was something else that he really wanted to write. He had been anxious to finish his next book, and that was what he had really wanted. He relaxed his body as he put down his pen. He was about to fall backward, but he didn't resist. The open sky met him, and he felt the cool, refreshing air throughout his body. It almost felt like he was in water. He felt the other contestants staring, but he paid no attention. His next book had taken its shape now. There was a young mother with her young child. The narrator of the story was the son at eighteen years old. The story began with the mother confessing her pregnancy to her child. Her son was suddenly going to have a brother. The only thing certain to the child was that they didn't have the same father. Eighteen years old, it was an age closer to being an adult than a child. The narrator was neither pure like a child or as experienced as an adult. He asked his mother as he learned about her pregnancy, "Were you happy to find out?" "As happy as when I had you," the young mother answered with a smile. The more her stomach bulged out, the more mature her son became. He was growing into an adult, and he smoked and drank with her. He came to meet different kinds of people. As he experienced life, her stomach grew in size until it couldn't get any bigger. That was the end. A wind blew and ruffled Juho's hair. Light shone brightly in between the leaves. 'I should visit her and ask again,' he thought. Then, he slowly closed his eyes. 'Bricks, telephone pole, hills.' The place where he met the woman was filled with silence. There was no sound of crying or any sound for that matter. As he looked down from the hill, he felt a presence. It was her. "Hello," she said with a slightly awkward enunciation. "How you doin'?" She was beautiful, but quite skinny. Her breasts and belly were showing through her white dress. "So, that's what you look like," Juho said as he made eye contact with her bloodshot eyes. She had two moles under her eye, thin lips and frail arms. That time, she had a vivid shape. She smiled, but only her eyes and lips moved slightly. "What do you want from me?" she asked. Her red tongue became visible as she opened her mouth. "I see that you're growing impatient. Why don't we take this a little slower?" "I want to see the baby." Juho looked at her belly. There was nothing aside from a small bit of fat on her lower belly. Whenever she breathed, her chest moved up and down. "Should I call for your son?" "No." "Your son would be sad to hear your answer." "It's OK. That kid is strong." At those words, Juho nodded. She had never exercised self control in her life. Like a rock rolling down the hill, she couldn't stop herself. It had been the same way when she had become pregnant for the first time. "My first drink was when I first made love to a man. My first smoke was when I first ditched a man." "And you haven't stopped since." "Yes. Still, my baby grew just fine. He was born into this world, and now, he's an adult. He's old enough to drink and smoke with me. He's a strong kid." A breeze blew on her dress. Her short, stubby toes became visible. "How come you came barefooted?" "I didn't think I'd need to wear shoes." "It's dangerous, you know." "It's OK. I won't get hurt," she answered as she took a step forward. It all felt too dangerous. "Are you planning on killing me?" Juho didn't answer. He hadn't decided yet. The end was before his eyes, and he had hesitated. "I don't want you to die." "Do you mean it?" "Yes." He had been sincere in his answer. He really didn't want her to die. "I want to," she answered as she dropped her head. There was a cliff. They were standing from a height where the bottom was no longer visible. "My child died." Juho became angry at her calm tone of voice. "But you knew that all along!" "I did." "You killed him!" She looked back at him, and their eyes met. They were blaming one another. "You're the one who let go!" "No one came to save him." "You didn't go after your baby." "There was a person at the bottom of the hill." "You said you were sick of it all." She kept quiet. She looked down as she stood barefooted at the edge of the cliff. "I miss my baby." That time, a gust of wind blew her hair relentlessly. "You won't be able to see him again." "I made him wait too long." "You won't find the baby down there." She took another step forward. She was almost there. "Will he forgive me?" "He won't be able to. There's no ground for either of you to stand on." Nothing could have stopped her. That was the kind of person she was. Finally, Juho called for her. "You're going to regret your decision!" She stopped in her tracks. "He'll forgive me." She knew the outcome. After all, it was regret she'd been after. The wind blew all the harder. Everything became fuzzy. The world started shaking. The wind blowing from below kept pulling her down as if it wanted to swallow her whole. Debris fell from the sky. The cliff started to crumble away. A streak of blood flowed down her legs, and her dress became soaked by the rain. "He's a strong kid. He'll be fine." Then, she threw herself down the cliff. Juho ran to grab her, but it was too late. He looked down from the cliff to see that she was nowhere to be found, and he was alone in a world that was falling apart. "No, I'm not!" a voice came from behind him. "I'm not strong. You're a poor excuse of a mother." Juho turned around. It was her son. He had been standing at a place not too far from the cliff. He didn't move a muscle. "Are you crying?" Juho asked. Instead of an answer, he looked up, his skinny face becoming visible. "Are you going to?" "I can't." "Why not?" "Because I'm alone. There's no one left to listen to me crying." Juho imitated the woman by standing at the edge of the cliff. "I'll go too." "Wait." Before there was time to answer, Juho fell from the cliff. The son remained in his place until the end. 'That's all I wanted to see,' Juho thought as he closed his eyes. "Wah, wah!" He sat up at the sound of a crying baby in the distance. Over a big boulder, he saw a woman walking with her stroller. As he watched them walking away, he slowly picked up his pen. He started writing. It had nothing to do with gratitude for your teachers, traveling, or the fall. 'I think I'll be able to finish this after all,' he thought as he smiled happily. * The contestants in the park each focused on their composition. While being mindful of the time and content, they were all writing busily. From time to time, some kids took their eyes off of their papers to look at something else. Though it was on one of the many trails in the park, there wasn't anyone around. Perhaps it had to do with the boulders that surrounded the trail. Or, it could've been the boy who had been writing frantically on his paper on the boulder. The kids were staring at him. He was writing at an incredibly fast pace with a scowl on his face. It almost looked like he was writing out what he had memorized. Nothing seemed to get in his way. There was no wind either. 'What could he be writing?' one of the kids approached him from curiosity. As he walked toward him on the grass, the sound of the pen tapping restlessly on the surface of the boulder became more audible. It almost sounded like a fight. Maybe it was a game. He stood behind the boy, but the boy showed no response. He was completely focused, and the kid felt his curiosity slowly turning into something different. 'I wish I could do that.' He couldn't dare to imitate the boy. He was easily distracted by people approaching him, and he couldn't stand the curious look on people's faces as they walked past them. None of the ideas in his head were substantial. Even they further lost their color as he wrote them out on paper. But, the boy was different. He hadn't even realized that somebody was standing behind him. His paper was visible over his shoulders. "Huh?" It was strange. It didn't look like something that was suited for an essay contest. The story. The content. To stop him, he involuntarily walked toward the boy who was writing frantically and tried to grab his hand. "You shouldn't do that, kid." He jumped at the sound of a voice. Long, black hair. Graceful voice. Wrinkles around her eyes that reflected the time she had lived. She was in a white dress, and had a portable parasol in her hand and she opened her mouth slowly to say, "How about you go on writing your own paper?" He thought the moment his eyes met with the woman's, 'She caught me! I got caught red-handed.' Without saying anything, he walked away in a hurry. She remained the only person standing next to Juho. * Juho didn't bother to think about anything else. His mind was filled with thoughts about the woman. It was all within his reach. The sound of the baby crying lingered in his ears. Nothing could have gotten in his way, even the ant crawling over his shoes, or the sound of leaves rustling. As everything seemed to be going smoothly, his hand suddenly came to a halt. "I'm out." He had run out of space. He had used every bit of what he was given. There was still much more that he wanted to write, so he grew anxious from the seemingly unquenchable thirst. 'What did I have to do to get more paper? Oh yeah, I have to go to the headquarters with my student ID.' He got up in a hurry as he thought of his student ID in his pocket. Just as he was about to run, a person suddenly struck up a conversation. "You seem like you need more paper." "'Scuse me?" "Would you like to use mine?" After turning around, the first thing he saw was a white dress and her white parasol. She was smiling. The wrinkles around her eyes gave off a welcoming impression. In contrast to her age, she had her black hair tied into a ponytail. She'd been standing alone on the other side of the boulder while he'd kept writing, looking at his direction. Juho realized that she had been looking at his composition. He hadn't caught it. She waved, and the sheets in her hand waved along with her. An old lady with a stack of paper. Juho couldn't help but remember who that was. "Yun Seo Baek. Mrs. Baek."

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69 Chapter 69 - The Final Encounter 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Did you call my name?" Writing several masterpieces of her own, Yun Seo Baek had been the teacher of many authors, including Joon Soo Bong, and Geun Woo Yoo, who Juho had met recently. Juho became flustered. He had met someone he hadn't expected to meet in a completely unexpected place. 'Why was she there?' She opened her mouth before he had a chance to ask and said, "I live nearby. I heard about the contest, so I thought I'd come out for a walk." "With paper in your hand?" "I was itching to see the future authors," she said, smiling like a girl. Even the wrinkles around her eyes couldn't take away from her innocent smile. "Seeing you're not planning on submitting that for the contest, I'm sure it won't matter what kind of paper you use." "... You got me." "I couldn't have missed it. You were writing quite fiercely there," she answered as she spun the parasol in her hand. Now, you should get back to writing." Juho approached her slowly. After taking the paper from her hand, he went back to his seat. As he sat, Yun Seo too sat by the trail, spinning her parasol in her hand. Juho kept on writing. Somehow, it felt like the paper was smoother to the touch. Perhaps the paper took after its owner in some way. He felt more at ease. At that moment, an announcement came from the speakers. It was time. Everyone got up from their seats and headed toward the headquarters to submit their work. While everyone moved busily, Juho didn't move a muscle. Yun Seo was the same way. By the time all of the contestants had left the park, Juho finally stopped writing. He had a satisfied smile on his face. "You must have finished." "Yes, ma'am." The park had been quiet now. He had finally finished his next book and felt overwhelmed by a sudden urge to shout with joy and sprint until his heart was about to explode. He couldn't help but smile. "Haha!" he leaned back as he laughed happily, lying on the grass while at it. The sky came into view. It felt high and open. The clouds calmly floated by, creating quite a beautiful sight. There was silence. No one would be able to understand the joy he was feeling at that moment. It belonged solely to him. Then, he felt something move in the dirt. As he indulged himself in his satisfaction, a voice came from above, "You must be Yun Woo," said Yun Seo. She had his composition in her hand. To be precise, they were the pages that had been written on her sheets of paper. "Yes, ma'am," he answered calmly. It was probably obvious to her. Though it was the first draft, and it still needed trimming in places, the pages embodied Yun Woo's distinct style. For a seasoned author like Yun Seo Baek, she would've recognized it with a glance. "I'd love to read more of it, but I'll give it back to you for now," she said with a smile as she set the pages down next to Juho' face. He sat up slowly to face her and said, "You can read it." "No," she said sternly. "I'd like to take my time savoring it when it comes out." It was quite a compliment, and at the same time, her words provoked joy. Writing another book had always come with a stench of failure. Her warm words masked that stench, and although his second book hadn't done well in the past, Juho gained confidence with Yun Seo's affirmation. "Do you think I'll be able to become an author?" he asked. "You already are, kiddo." "Oh, that's not what I meant…" He didn't want to be a mere author. Deep inside, he wanted much more, so he added with a smile to hide his excitement, "I want to be a great storyteller." "How lofty." The great storyteller, not many authors were referred as such - not even Yun Seo, or her friend, Hyun Do Lim. It was an honor that couldn't be earned even by the greatest of authors. Juho wanted just that. It was heavy and eternal and it was inherently different from who he was at that moment. That's how he wanted to be remembered. He wanted to reach something that many people had worked towards and failed. "I long for that title." Her eyes sparkled as they fixated on him. They were slightly murky, but they didn't waver. He looked back at her. "If that's what your heart desires, than so be it. That's what the creatures so-called authors do, right?" 'Creatures so-called authors.' "We don't believe anything until we see, hear, and touch it. We have to write if we want to, even if it means giving something up. I've seen countless authors like that," she added as she folded her parasol. Then, she said, smiling in the sunlight, "But I've yet to meet anyone as young as you." "Come visit me sometime. I'd prefer it now, but I'm sure you're dying to finish what you started, am I right?" "Yes, ma'am." "Then, come visit me when you're finished. I'll cook. What do you like?" "I'm not picky," he answered after a quick thought. From then on, Juho skipped school from time to time in order to work on his book. After seeing the piles of paper in his room, his mother gave him permission immediately. Before he knew it, he had already developed a reputation for being sickly, but he paid no attention to that. He had been sitting in front of his computer, editing and changing things according to the developments and characters he had created. Whenever something wasn't to his liking, he didn't hesitate to rewrite it several times, but it hadn't been all that physically demanding. It would have been much more difficult before computers, but thankfully, that was no longer an issue. Without the restriction of the lack of technology, it was natural for authors to be more critical in their editing processes. Because they had the resource to do so, they pursued perfection. Whenever Juho pressed a key on the keyboard, new characters appeared on the screen. "Sigh." What hadn't changed was that writing had remained mentally demanding, even with computers. Repeating something was quite a daunting task. It was tedious and tiresome. On top of that, he was editing the story he had written himself. Secretly, the word 'editing' accrued a negative meaning. It denied what already existed. It involved making various changes, but there was no way to be certain of one being better than the other. Because all words in a composition were interwoven with others, the overall feel was also prone to subtle changes. There was no situation that called for one, single edit. No matter how subtle, there was no end once changes occurred. If a person had told an author to edit his work for all eternity, it would have been possible. However, in reality, there was only so much time. Though authors might sought after a perfect sentence, there was no such a thing. An author's job was to write out a person's life, and there was no such a thing as a perfect life. Juho read what he'd written. The mother smoked her cigarette while holding her baby. No one stopped her. She wasn't a perfect person in any way. He took a deep breath. After calming his mind, he continued reading. It was the last scene. She threw herself off the roof of her own volition. Her only surviving son watched everything unfold. They had a conversation with one another for one last time. They made eye contact and listened to each other breathing for the last time. "You're going to regret your decision," the son said. "Probably," the mother answered. A wind blew and revealed her stomach. Its hopelessly stretched out skin hung loosely. Juho wanted them to regret. Things weren't as vivid as they once were. The mother had hid herself behind the sentences. Because of that, Juho had been able to imagine her end, which he couldn't bear to see. They weren't at the edge of a cliff. She had thrown herself from the roof. Her lifeless body was probably sprawled across the floor, and her son could've seen his mother's end if he just looked down. Juho had portrayed the scene as explicitly as possible. 'Broken joints, blood. She no longer made any sound. There was never beauty in a dead body. It was hideous and foolish. Everyone criticized her, but things could only be heard by those still living. At the sound of other people screaming and cursing heading to the rooftop, the son took out a cigarette.' Then, Juho placed the last period. He slowly stood up from his chair, very slowly. Birds were chirping outside the window. His hands had become hideously veiny. * There was a quiet storm in Zelkova Publishing Company. Yun Woo, the author of his critically acclaimed debut title, had suddenly appeared with his new book. There had been no warning, and no one had expected him to write another book in such a short time. The staff gathered in the meeting room. Each with a cup from the coffee machine, they were discussing something rather seriously. Everyone looked exhausted. Nam Kyung was the same. "OK. Next, Mr.Woo's manuscript." "Yes, sir," Nam Kyung answered the editor-in-chief. "Have you all read it?" "I couldn't keep myself from reading it even when I was busy." "I was dying from anticipation." "Although, I had no idea that we'd be looking at his new book so soon." "Title: Mother. This is a working title, right?" An editor asked after hearing the opinions of their fellow editors. Title: Mother, a working title at the moment. Yun Woo, the youngest author to debut in the history of literature. Less than a year from the time he wrote the 'The Trace of a Bird,' which was selling at an incredible rate, Yun Woo had written a new book. "Yes. How was it?" Nam Kyung asked. It was a way to get others to agree in some way. "It was great," for example. Nam Kyung had also read the manuscript. After all, he'd been the first to receive it. It was about eight hundred pages, yet he read it in a burst. He had read it as he delayed his other work. He had read even on his subway ride home and as he'd gotten off the subway. It hadn't been intentional. He had had a feeling that his day would've been ruined from the potency of the emotions embodied in the manuscript and he'd longed for a beautiful conclusion. Unfortunately, he had had to swim in the sea of depression for an entire week after reading through the manuscript. The destructive life portrayed by Yun Woo's colorful, yet pure style had been rather immersive. It had been almost like a swamp. Slowly, Nam Kyung had felt himself sinking from his own weight. "It was fantastic," the editor-in-chief emphasized. 'I knew it,' Nam Kyung thought. It really had been fantastic. Despite the damp, depressing tone, the story had been pure, and colorful. The contrast between the two contradicting characteristics had given it shape. Readers were bound to get sucked in. "Except," Except. "It's a tad bit too dark." "Right." It was a rather dark story. Although it wouldn't have been an issue for an ordinary author, there was no telling how it would reflect on Yun Woo when he was known to be a teenager. "Nothing happened to Mr. Woo, right?" the editor-in-chief asked. Nam Kyung shook his head. The last time they'd met, Juho had been like a textbook example of calmness.

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70 Chapter 70 - Summer Break

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Mr. Woo is turning… seventeen this year?" "Yes, sir." When the editors read Yun Woo's manuscript for his second book for the first time, they had had trouble imagining that it had been written by a seventeen year old. It had depth, but it was dark at the same time. "I thought that even 'The Trace of a Bird' was a little dark.' "I agree. This time, his book isn't just dark. It's also rather strong," said Mr. Maeng, an editor who had recently changed jobs. "On top of that, there's a clown character that's seemingly irrelevant. Every bit of that book is charming," Ms. Song. She had been working as an editor for three years now, but she was the baby of the editing department. "When that clown first came out, it was rather humorous." Yun Woo's next book hadn't been strictly 'dark.' The clown and his sole audience toward the middle of the book were the two characters who were the most distant from the overall atmosphere of the book. At the same time, the transition hadn't been jarring at all. That was how the readers were able to enjoy the conversation between the two seemingly random characters. "It'll do very well. 'The Trace of a Bird' is still going strong. I think it'd be a good idea to keep pushing forward," Mr. Seo said. He was the sales manager. While Mr. Maeng agreed, Ms.Song expressed his concern. "I'm sure it'll do well, but I'm concerned about the content. I wonder if it'd be too provocative." "That's a good point." Everyone nodded at Ms. Song's opinion. Yun Woo's books were rather immersive and addictive. It would be sold well as long as his name was on the book. High sales also meant that a lot of people were reading his books. "It's too heavy for something written by a seventeen year old teenager. It might be controversial. Even now, there's a handful of people suspecting a ghostwriter," Ms.Song's said. "Not many people actually take that suspicion very seriously. I do agree that Mr. Woo's age is an issue. Some readers will definitely hold a negative view," Mr. Maeng answered as he shook his head. It made sense considering how mature his style was for his age. Aside from that suspicion, some readers were bound to have a negative view. Being too talented had presented an issue in and and of itself. "Right, especially towards the end of the book," the editor-in-chief added. At his words, Nam Kyung immediately thought of the body. There was a detailed description of the mother's body toward the end of the book. The perspective was from none other than the narrator himself. The son ran toward the mother to grab her, but he was too late. Her body had already hit the ground, and the son was left all alone. Yet, the son didn't jump after his mother. Instead, he stayed at the rooftop. That had been the biggest difference between the two characters - a mother who took her own life after the death of her baby, and a son who'd sent her away. The ending portrayed the relationship between the two characters in a rather gruesome manner. "Are you thinking about revising the ending, by any chance?" the editor-in-chief asked Nam Kyung. Revisions were a sensitive matter in many aspects. Nam Kyung wasn't quite willing to change the ending, and there was only one reason. He had been content with Yun Woo's ending. There was no doubt that it was gruesome and provocative, but the intensity of emotions it conveyed would definitely be lessened. "Does Mr. Woo tend to be sensitive about getting his book revised?" "No, not quite. He's actually rather skilled in exchanging opinions." "Huh. He's really not like his peers, isn't he?" said the editor-in-chief. "I firmly believe that we should publish the book as is," said Nam Kyung. "Why is that?" Asked the editor-in-chief. Nam Kyung organized his thoughts for a brief time before explaining. "I think that the ending is the scene where the regret of the mother is maximized." Regret. The destructive life of two individuals and their end. Regret tended to be at the height of its intensity when it was too late to look back. Much like a glass of water that had broken, the past was impossible to undo. It was just like rash, careless words. The mother's death represented regret. "The narrator carefully examines her body. This means that he didn't try to neglect her death. It's a scene where they face reality for the first time after having been running away from their faults." Nam Kyung too had been somewhat concerned about Yun Woo's age, however… "If we change the ending and leave it to the interpretation to the readers, I'm certain that they'll criticize the characters rather than relating to their regrets." The editor-in-chief nodded. Mr. Seo opened his mouth after a brief time thought to say, "That might actually be beneficial for marketing. Books that are more provocative tend to sell more. We can ask for testimonials from other authors also. Besides, 'The Trace of a Bird' didn't read like it had been written by a seventeen year old anyway." After contemplating for a brief moment, the editor-in-chief nodded. "Very well. I'll leave it up to you Nam Kyung." "Yes, sir." After that and after everyone presented their concerns, the meeting came to an end. * The classroom was filled with excitement. The kids seemed like they couldn't contain themselves as they clamored. Some hadn't even brought their backpacks. Because they were carrying less weight, they seemed all the more lively. "I noticed that you haven't been sleeping as of late." For some time, Juho had been spending about half of his time in his classes in slumber. Now, he was looking straight into Seo Kwang's eyes. He nodded slowly. "It's summer break. It's exciting." "You've been fine for about month now." "Well then, I guess I've been excited for a whole month." After finishing his manuscript, Juho felt a bit more relieved. He'd been writing at night while sleeping during the day, and it'd been rather exhausting. Although he believed that good writing came from a clear mind, there was no way around the schedule. Juho thought about the ending of the book that Nam Kyung had mentioned. He had said that he wasn't sure how the readers would respond to something so raw and direct. It had never crossed his mind while he'd been writing. He'd been focused on writing alone. He'd thought that he should be writing what was in his head. He had expressed to Nam Kyung that he didn't want to change the ending, and Nam Kyung had agreed. From then on, they'd been mostly communicating through emails regarding changes to the vocabulary, removing certain sentences, and tightening up places where it dragged on. While they edited when their opinions agreed with one another, they exchanged opinions and ideas with one another when their opinions differed. Nam Kyung had been relentless in his editing. Thanks to him, Juho had been quite nervous as of late. In this stage of publishing, the editor played the role of the critic with its presence alone. His sigh was enough to make Juho rewrite his manuscript voluntarily. It had been better to get less sleep. At that point, the publishing company would set a release date and proceed to putting the book together. Juho asked Seo Kwang as he enjoyed his sense of freedom, "How's your English lesson going?" "Not well," Seo Kwang answered with a sad face. "It would be a lot easier if the word order was similar to Korean at least." Word order. Juho thought of the Old English he had learned from James. "I feel like word order isn't as important in Old English. There wasn't really a rule. I saw different examples, like subject-verb-object, or object-verb-subject." "Old English?" "Yeah, like German." "German??" Seo Kwang asked as he couldn't relate to Juho at all. "How do you even know that?" "It's fun." "Fun??" He said as his face scrunched up. He didn't get Juho. "Once you get better and start having conversations, it'll be a lot more fun." "I'm sure it will be, but I have a long way to go… When do you ever speak something like German anyway?" It had been useful in some occasions. It had been of great use when Juho was experimenting with the limits of his language acquisition device in his head. He'd been learning as many languages as he possibly could. English, French, Japanese, Chinese, German, Spanish, Italian, Russian, Swedish, Danish, Norwegian, Dutch. He'd also learned unusual languages like Medieval and Old English, Lombardic, and Old Nordic. It had all been possible. He'd been able to read, speak, and understand just about anything. However, it wasn't perfect everywhere. Overtime, he noticed that he couldn't think of certain words. He knew enough for basic conversations, but he'd been hesitating more and more while writing or thinking of a word. Language tended to get lost if one didn't utilize it in a regular basis. "The key to learning a language is repetition." Mistaking that he had been talking to him, Seo Kwang gave him an annoyed look. "You should work hard if you're still planning on visiting your first love," Juho added as he smiled. "Punk," Seo Kwang said. At that moment, the front door slid open. "OK, everyone, settle down," the homeroom teacher said as he walked in. "Let's do some cleaning before we go." Sounds of groaning filled the classroom. * "I guess things will start picking up again soon." Mr. Seo grumbled with a sigh in the lounge. The sales department was the busiest department right before and after the book release. It had to do with the fact that they often had to meet and interact with people in person. "I'm glad it's Yun Woo's book though." "Is that right?" "Yeah, I really love it. No matter how hard I try to judge every book with fairness, I'm a still a person. Some books tend to speak to me more than others. You know what I mean… like the kind that makes you want to recommend it to others." "I know what you mean." "Yeah, exactly. His book really motivates me to sell more." "I appreciate that." "The revision weren't easy, I'm assuming?" asked Mr. Seo. Nam Kyung sighed before answering him. "No, they weren't. Mr. Woo has such a distinct style, so I had to be really careful not to take away from it." "My, that's impressive." "On top of that, Mr.Woo is no ordinary high school student." It had been a challenging process. Yun Woo was someone who had become famous at a young age. On top of that, his style of writing tended to have a lot of character. Nam Kyung liked that character. He wanted to leave as much of it as intact as possible. In order to make that happen, he had to respect Yun Woo's creative boundaries while pushing him as close as possible to it. While Yun Woo was understanding of Nam Kyung's opinions in general, he had brought up every sentence that he hadn't agreed with. It had been a difficult process, but the outcome made it worthwhile. "You need to start getting the testimonials, right?" "Yep." "OK, break a leg." Mr. Seo poured his last sip of coffee into his mouth and went back to his office on the third floor. Nam Kyung, too, made his way back to his desk. 'Who do I go to? This is Yun Woo's book we're talking about,' he thought. He wanted to give his very best for the book. Like Mr. Seo, he too had been quite fond of the book. "Mr. Uhm is a good candidate," he murmured. He had arranged a meeting for him and Yun Woo in the past. Dong Gil would write an honest testimonial. It seemed to be in line with the tone of the his new book. 'Maybe I should ask him.' As he thought about Dong Gil, another person naturally came up in his head, Seo Joong Ahn. He was unpredictable, but he had recently made a comeback with his new book, 'One Room.' It didn't seem like a bad idea.

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71 Chapter 71- A Plateful 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Nam Kyung thought about Yun Woo as he pulled up his glasses. Whenever he saw him, he was always reminded of another author, his favorite author, Hyun Do Lim. Yun Woo had just spread his wings. Hyun Do Lim was a widely respected author. Yun Woo had taken a risk, while Hyun Do Lim was stable. They had nothing in common, from their ages to their appearances, but for some reason, they shared a similar feel. 'I kind of want to go with Mr. Lim,' Nam Kyung thought. However, that wouldn't be easy because he was known to be stingy about writing testimonials for other authors. His reason was always that he was simply too busy to write something for another author. Although, the gentle manner in which he declined the requests said otherwise. He seemed rather free. He was an outstanding writer, and Nam Kyung was itching to read his book. Nam Kyung had made up his mind. He was certain that he'd get turned down, but he still decided to give it a try. 'Besides, who knew for sure?' He looked over the manuscript that would be sent to Hyun Do Lim and thought, 'This should do,' and gathered up his courage before sending it. Nam Kyung was turned down in no time, and the editor-in-chief asked him as he chuckled, "Didn't work out, huh?" "Hahaha!" Mr. Maeng patted Nam Kyung's back as he stood defeated. "He was so polite." He knew what the outcome would be, but he had decided to give it a shot anyway. After taking a deep breath, he looked up. It was still worthwhile. When he had talked to Hyun Do Lim over the phone, Mr. Lim was rather impressed and astonished. That gave Nam Kyung more confidence. A few days later, a testimonial from Dong Gil arrived at the publishing company. After reading it, Nam Kyung smiled brightly. "A piece that walks on thin ice. It tells me that I'm just as guilty," he had written in his clean, and precise style that was distinct to him. It suited Yun Woo's book well. * Juho got off the subway at a station where he had only been once. While feeling familiar and foreign at the same time, he walked up the stairs and out to the surface. Cars spewed out their fumes in the hot air, and people walked busily past him. Juho had been to that street once. There was a building that he remembered, and another that he didn't. As he crossed the street, the park's entrance became visible, the same one he went to for the essay contest. It had been some time since he'd finished his new book, and Juho finally accept Yun Seo Baek's invitation from after the contest. He followed the map on his phone. The closer he got to her house, the more the sound of the city faded away. 'Bark! Bark!' a dog barked, and he thought of a dog he had seen on the countryside once. Though it looked nice, it was somewhat dirty. At the end of an alleyway, there was another alleyway, so he kept walking. After being lost for a brief while, he eventually came out of the alleyway into an open space with a big house and a small vegetable garden in the front of it. It was surrounded by trees and it was just old enough to look rather welcoming, like a house in the countryside. He felt the cool breeze. Everything else felt distant. The house had no gate or walls, so he kept walking past the front yard and toward the door. As he was about to ring the doorbell, he had heard a voice from the back of the house and walked in the direction of the sound instead. There was a low wooden bench. Yun Seo was there. "Ah, you're here!" she welcomed him without even being startled. Juho bowed to her. "Hello, Mrs. Baek." "Welcome! Did you get lost on your way at all?" "A little bit, but I've been around the area before, so I eventually found my way." "Good, good. Come have a seat." She waved her hand to tell him to take a seat. There were fresh fruits that she had just brought out: melons, bananas, apples, and a watermelon. It was way too much for just herself. "So how'd it go with your book?" she asked. From the time he met her, he had written consistently and finished it. However, he wasn't sure of how to answer her question. After a brief moment thinking, he said, "I finished it, somehow." She smiled at his answer. "That's all that matters." "Right." There was a gentle silence. As he enjoyed the silence, a plateful of fruits came into his view. 'Did she bring all of this out for me?' Even then, there was way too much. Then, he remembered that he heard a voice on his way in. "Is there another guest over?" "We always have guests. That's how it is in my house." She was referring to her pupils. Mrs. Baek was known for accepting a number of pupils. In the past, there had been quite a few people who had learned from her while they'd stayed at her house. Now, there were significantly less people wanting to become writers, and less people were coming up to the city, so she adapted a teaching format that resembled a private institute. The times were changing. 'Pupil.' When Juho thought about that word, two people came to mind: Joon Soo Bong and Geun Woo Yoo. "So where's your guest?" "I believe he went out." "Mrs. Baek," a familiar voice sounded, and Juho thought briefly as he looked ahead, 'What do I do?' "Mrs. Baek, I've brought the tea. It's the green tea Joon Soo bought." "OK. Thanks for buying the fruits too." Juho heard another person behind him. There were two familiar voices then. 'What do I do?' "Who's the guest?" the voice said, referring to Juho. He turned around slowly, and his eyes met Geun Woo, who held a tray with a tea set. Joon Soo was smiling gently next to him. "Eh?" "What brings you here?" It didn't take long at all for the two to recognize Juho, and they looked at each other. "You know him, Joon Soo?" "Yeah, you too?" Geun Woo asked looking at Juho. "I remember you saying that you're part of a Literature Club. Are you Mrs. Baek's new pupil?" Geun Woo Yoo asked. He had written a book titled 'Sad Face,' which showcased his distinctively depressing style. "Well, I guess it makes sense that you're here. You were part of an essay contest, so you must want to be a writer," said Joon Soo Bong. Though he had a somewhat shallow fanbase, he was an incredibly skilled writer. All of those authors somehow knew Juho, but the two had never met Yun Woo, so Juho found himself in a sticky situation. While he smiled awkwardly as he thought about how to introduce himself, Yun Seo asked, "Should I say it? Or did you want to say it yourself?" She seemed to understand Juho's situation, and he decided to come clean. "I will," he said as he felt Joon Soo and Geun Woo staring at him. "Hello, I'm Juho Woo." Joon Soo's eyes widened at the sudden introduction. On the other hand, Geun Soo nodded as if he knew. In order to properly introduce himself, Geun Woo was about to say something, but at moment, Juho quickly interjected, "I'm also Yun Woo." At that, Geun Woo froze, and his mouth dropped open. He blinked twice. Before he had a chance to say a word, Joon Soon said enthusiastically, "Aha!" There was gladness behind his voice. "I read your writing at the contest! I thought so! I thought it was too good for a student. You were Yun Woo all along!" "Haha." "It makes sense that you ran out of time considering how much time you had spent outside. On top of that, the build up was rather long. It didn't seem like it was contest worthy in any way. You knew you weren't going to finish, didn't you?" "Well, yes. I did." "Joon Soo, move aside for a minute." As Joon Soo was about to say something while smiling brightly, Geun Woo pushed him and stood in front of Juho with his mouth still open. "You're Yun Woo?" "Yes." "As in Yun Woo, the author." "Yes." "Then...You… that day… no, that book… so…" He seemed rather confused. "You're lying," he said in disbelief. "Would I dare lie about something like that in front of the greats?" "Well… it's just… no, it can't be," his face was filled with embarrassment. "I'm sorry about winning that contest," Juho said. "Agh!" "Hey, hey! I'm not sure what's going on here, but please, calm down," said Joon Soo as he patted Geun Woo on the back. Despite his gentle words, Geun Woo ruffled his hair with both of his hands. "I'll never be able to forget this. I won't be able to sleep tonight. I knew I was going to regret it, but this… this… " he murmured. "Come sit and have some fruit," Yun Seo said amid the chaos. Things calmed down after some time, and Juho and Yun Seo sat facing Geun Woo and Joon Soo on the bench. With his head lowered, Geun Woo was quietly chewing an apple. "So what brings you here, Yun Woo?" Joon Soo asked. "I invited him. We met in the park on the day of the contest," Yun Seo answered instead. Juho nodded. "I wanted to go take a look, so I went. Then, I found a kid writing on the ground." "That was me." "I approached him, but he didn't even notice. I looked at what he was writing out of curiosity, and it turned out that he'd been writing something completely irrelevant to the topics given at the contest." "Irrelevant?" "Didn't you say it was a contest?" Geun Woo asked quietly. Like Juho noticed in their last encounter, he got over things rather quickly. Juho said, looking in his direction, "I was working on something at the time, and I suddenly had an idea for wrapping up the story." "You don't mean that you've been working on another book, do you?" Geun Woo asked, laughing. "That's right. My next book." "Huh?" Joon Soo coughed while mid-sip of his tea. "What? A new book? Did you just say that you wrote another book? Yun Woo did? Now?" Geun Woo asked with an odd look on his face. "Yes, why do you ask?" Juho asked calmly. "It hasn't even been a year since your last book came out. 'The Trace of a Bird' is still the number one bestseller across the nation." "I already sent the manuscript to the publishing company." "Wow," exclaimed Geun Woo. "You're one brave kid. Aren't you worried about the outcome? What if it doesn't do as well as your last book?" "Geun Woo, I think you should stop there if you don't want to regret that later," warned Joon Soo with a warm smile. Geun Woo said no more. "It's OK, Mr.Bong. Mr.Yoo brought up a good point. I did think about that at one point," Juho said as he smiled. Geun Woo said as he waved his hand, "Please, you don't have to be formal with me." Although Juho was trying to be polite, he quite enjoyed the fact that he was being recognized as an author. "Same for me," Joon Soo added. "If you say so," Juho said. "So, what made you write another book so soon?" Geun Woo asked. Juho thought about the question. The word 'soon' made him think. 'Had it really been as soon as Geun Woo described?' Juho had already been an author for three decades before he returned to the past. Without that experience, he wouldn't have been able to write the book. He had been afraid of failures. The word had always been accompanied with anxiety. He had always written in a hurry, as if he were being chased. The outcome had always been less than average. In the past, his next book had been the beginning of his downfall. He didn't want to live the way he had then and he didn't want to fail. However, he couldn't write without accepting failure as a fact of life. That's how writing had always been. An author wouldn't be able to write a single word if he was afraid of failure. "Like I said, I was concerned at one point."

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72 Chapter 72- A Plateful 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl At one point, Juho had been afraid. "Of course, it was rather cumbersome. After all, I'm known as a genius and the youngest person to debut as an author. So, I tried to stay low and enjoy my life for as long as possible, but that's when I thought of something I wanted to write about. I saw it with my own eyes." Yet, he had still been looking. Once again, he had found himself desiring for something that had the power to lead him to his downfall. Because of that, he was able to find it and face it. "What can I do? I gotta write what I want to write about," said Juho as he smiled. "I've tried really hard to not think of things that would get in the way." Failure, success, results, unchanging future and the complaints of readers, Juho had been fighting these thoughts from disrupting his mind and forcing him to stop writing. It was the only way he could write. "I'm a professional when it comes to setting things aside" He had spent the last three decades of his life running away. He had fled from his past failures, fear of challenge, and desire to write. He didn't think of the failures. He didn't gape after success. He didn't let his anxiety get to him or rush him in any way. He simply wrote. He looked at nothing else, but the graph-like paper. "I have no clue about how the next book will turn out, but now that it's already finished… Well, what can I do?" 'I guess all those failures in the past weren't in vain, after all,' Juho thought as he smiled. "Whew… did you hear that Mrs. Baek?" "I sure did." "How old are you again?" "I'm seventeen." "My… my!" Geun Woo exclaimed. For a timid person like him, he wouldn't even dare say such things. Yun Seo smiled quietly. "I'll look forward to it," she said. "Yes, ma'am," Juho answered confidently. --- He went inside. If there was anything different from the usual household, it was the designated space for writing lessons. It almost looked like a classroom. There were desks, a sitting mat and natural wood grains on the floor. There were compositions of her past pupils on the wall and a white board at the front. "So, what do you think? Not bad, huh?" "No, ma'am." If there was a school for aspiring authors, it would've looked like that. "This is my seat, and also where I wrote my debut title. I'm not sure how much that would mean to an author like Yun Woo, but yeah," said Geun Woo as he sat on the second backmost seat. Though he started off proud, his voice grew more and more timid toward the end. "Do you mean the one you were decorating the sky with?" Juho asked as he smiled. "Let's… not talk about that for now, shall we? I got in enough trouble with Mrs. Baek," Geun Woo said bashfully. "Whether you decide to change what you've written or throw it out altogether is up to you as an author, but not like that. You can't treat it like trash. At that point, you're not just throwing away your writing, but you're also hurting yourself." "Yes, Mrs. Baek." Though she said it light-heartedly, there was substance to her words. She was more strict than Juho had imagined. That day, Geun Woo had almost given up pursuing his dream of being a writer. It hadn't been that he hadn't been happy with what he had written or that he had felt like he couldn't write well. Deep inside, he'd lacked courage. Repeated failures had chipped away at his self-esteem. What he had really wanted to desert hadn't been his novel. It had been himself. Yun Seo had urged him not to give up. "Coming to think of it, you two have a unique relationship," Yun Seo said light-heartedly. "Pardon?" "An ill-fated relation turned good." "Sometimes, I can't tell if you're complimenting me or just trying to call me out." Though Juho hadn't intended, he had always been part of Geun Woo's failures and successes. "I haven't done anything really. In the end, you wrote something amazing, Geun Woo," Juho said. "Yep, and I'm also the one who wrote a half decent book. Come by anytime you want. I'd love to rub off of you," he said as he made a tai-chi like move with his hands. At that, Juho calmly took a step back to distance himself. "You're staying for dinner right? I'll go prepare the rice," said Yun Seo. In the past, she had asked Juho what his favorite food was. After Yun Seo went outside, Juho quietly walked toward Geun Woo and sat across from him. "Thanks," Geun Woo said quietly. "For what?" "For picking up my manuscript that day." "I recall you already thanked me then." "Yun Woo wasn't there that day." Juho asked after a brief silence, "Were there any missing pages?" "A few. I read through it and rewrote them." With that, they no longer talked about that day. Neither Geun Woo or Juho said any more. They had talked about it enough. At that moment, Joon Soon came back in after taking a phone call. He tapped his finger on his phone three times before putting it into his pocket. After he briefly looked in Juho's direction, he looked back up at the sound of Geun Woo's voice. "Another lecture?" "Yep. My books don't really sell," Joon Soo said as he sat next to Geun Woo. The way they sat around the desk resembled an official debate. Geun Woo grumbled with his face filled with discontentment. "It's odd. Why is it that people don't read your book?" "Beats me." Joon Soo wouldn't have been able to answer that question. He just smiled gently as he patted Geun Woo's shoulder three times. Juho thought of his books as he watched. His books tended to be focused more on literary value than appealing to the masses. There were countless gems that were not best-sellers, but unfortunately, not all became known. As the publishing market grew even narrower, accessibility was a crucial component in a book. There had to be something that caught people's attention. That was the reality of it. Juho looked at Geun Woo. His debut title was doing very well. The gruesomeness of his book had caught people's attention. In modern days, people no longer remembered the fear of getting eaten. However, in reality, that fear was closer than most realized. One didn't have to be chewed on like a piece of meat or have their bones taken away in order to remember the fear for survival. Geun Woo understood that fact. It was something people would take interest in. The publishing company he had submitted the manuscript to had predicted its success, and invested a large sum of money into promotion. Juho turned his head and looked at Joon Soo then. He wasn't as familiar with Joon Soo's books. His books weren't as provocative. From the perspective of a reader who had to pick and choose what interested them the most, his books didn't quite stand out. However, Juho had been impressed by them. His style was clean, sophisticated, and beautiful. He hadn't given up on writing even as he took on a second job. He refused to conform to the norm. His tenacity would eventually bear fruit in the future. He would become a bestselling author, and many people would come to appreciate the true beauty of his writing. Juho smiled quietly. Joon Soon had been stroking the desk in front of him. He did it by reflex. After staring at it for a brief time, Juho said, "Three times." "Huh?" "You've been touching things three times." His cell phone, Geun Woo's shoulder, the desk, and the same while he was eating fruit. He had a habit of tapping things three times before putting them down. Juho had noticed some time ago. "He caught you." "Ah, shucks," he said as he smiled awkwardly, scratching his head. Amid his embarrassment, his good nature remained apparent on his face. His hand soon moved away from his head. Though it hadn't been visible, Juho guessed that he had tapped his head three times. "It's a kind of ritual," said Joon Soo. "More like OCD, Joon Soo," Geun Woo murmured quietly. Instead of criticizing him, he humbly admitted it, "I'm sure it seems more compulsive to others." It might be compulsive to others, but to himself, it was ritualistic. "What kind of ritual?" "It brings good luck." 'Good luck.' Perhaps three was his lucky number. Whatever the reason was, it was an interesting habit. "Not to sound arrogant, but there are times when I'm surprised by what comes out of my head. It almost feels like something just flowed into my body, and I'm just lending my body to it. It doesn't feel like I wrote it. You'd know since you're an author. It doesn't sit well with me." There were times when a sentence suddenly thrust itself into the depths of the author's heart. Those sentences were apparent in Joon Soo's books. When the author wrote with such inspiration, they knew immediately how the words would fit with the surrounding words. However, there was a foil to such inspiration. That was anxiety. They felt anxious and insecure about whether or not they would be able to write something like that again in the future. Juho asked after a brief thought, "What led you to that habit? Why three times?" "My third composition became my debut title," he answered with a gentle smile. It was somewhat of an underwhelming answer. "My books haven't done so well since then, so I've been wondering if I spent all of my luck on writing that book. That's why I tap things three times before I put them down - to bring in luck," he added. He was somewhat of an oddball too. "Mrs. Baek didn't say anything about it either. Besides, three is my favorite number. You can say that it's a form of affection." "Towards what? The number three?" "Myself. Mrs. Baek has always taught us to love ourselves." "I'm not sure if that necessarily translates to tapping your fingers three times." At that moment, Yun Seo cut his nonsense short. "My husband used to like the number three as well," she said as she sat next to Juho. He picked up a faint, comforting smell of cooked rice "Mr. Kang, right?" She nodded quietly. Wol Kang. He was Yun Seo's late husband, who had passed away at an early age. He had been known as an eccentric, but his books were still loved by many. The fact that there was a movie about him showed how much his fans loved him. Juho, too, had been an avid fan of his and sought out every one of his books. They had been cheerful and peculiar and they had made the readers joyful. That lively, fearless author had lost his life to tuberculosis at an early age. "You know, I always had a feeling that he'd pass away too early," she said as she smiled innocently. "Mrs. Baek…" Whenever she made remarks like that, her pupils felt as awkward as possible. "What? It's true. I even got rid of him first in my book." "Are you saying that there was a character modeled after Mr. Kang?" "Really? Who?" asked Joon Soo and Geun Woo. They must have never heard about it. Juho also thought, 'Who could it be? The first character to die, similar to Mr. Kang…' After a brief time staring at, Juho asked, "It's not Malddong, is it?" "Oh my! You guessed it before I even had a chance to say it!" "Goodness, Malddong??" Geun Woo was dumbfounded, and Joon Soo, too, no longer looked peaceful. "You're talking about 'The Horse Hoof,' right?" Geun Woo asked in disbelief. "Yes, the servant who worked at the stable." "He gets killed after getting kicked by a horse, right?" Juho asked quietly after Yun Seo answered brightly. (TL's note: the word 'mal' translates to 'horse' in Korean, while the word 'ddong' means excrement. So, Malddong would mean horse poop. Having 'ddong' in a servan't name seemed to be a common practice in Korea back in the day.)

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73 Chapter 73- A Plateful 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Malddong was among the lowest class of servants who took care of the horses in the stable. Unfortunately, his dim-witted character led him to his demise after getting kicked by a horse. For a character that had been modeled after a real person, it was rather merciless. "My husband told me once that he'd rather get kicked to death by a horse than suffer through tuberculosis, so I tried to make his dream come true," she said light-heartedly as she smiled. There was affection behind it. She was still in love with her eccentric husband. 'Bark!' a dog barked in the distance, and she laughed at the sound of it. "If Wol was still around, he'd have run out the door to pet that dog." Her pupils didn't stop her from reminiscing about her loved one. She slowly turned her head and looked at Juho, and he quietly stared back at her. "You remind me of him for some reason." "I do?" "Of course! My husband was the best looking man I've ever met." "Haha." "For some reason, I can sense the trace of time from you. It's rather baffling considering your appearance." "That's interesting, ma'am." "Indeed… my husband often acted much younger than his age. He was the polar opposite of you, but maybe that's why I'm getting the feeling that you two are similar." "It's an honor," answered Juho with a smile. Yun Seo looked intently and quietly at his face. 'Bark!' the dog barked again. 'Why was it barking?' It was rather loud, yet, having heard it repeatedly, it started to sound weak. Juho remembered his first encounter with the dog. It was when he had walked into the alleyway. That was when he first became aware of the dog's existence. 'Maybe it's calling for its owner. A dog on a leash barks loudly as it waits for its owner. If the owner was the narrator, what kind of story would that be?' he thought. "What were you thinking when you heard that?" Yun Seo asked. Juho blinked quietly for a brief moment. He hadn't quite understood her intention behind the question. "You mean the dog?" "Yes, the barking sound." The dog was still barking. 'What had I thought of when I heard the dog? What was it?' Juho tried to remember. "Mrs. Baek, Juho probably doesn't understand what you're asking. It took us a while before we were able to give you a proper answer." "Quiet," said Joon Soo. He had somehow managed to shut Geun Woo up while maintaining his friendly look. Yun Seo waited quietly for Juho's response. He couldn't give an answer because there was no answer. The house was filled with silence, and Juho moved around for no apparent reason. The air was heavy. He had no choice. He had to answer honestly. "I thought that dog was barking," said Juho as he scratched his head. It had been no more than that. His thought hadn't gone far beyond. 'A dog is barking in the distance. It's barking with gusto. It must have smelled someone that isn't its owner.' "Hahaha!" Yun Seo laughed. "See?" "Shh," Geun Woo and Joon Soo were still whispering. All Juho did was answering honestly. Yun Seo nodded and asked again. "Then?" "Then?" Suddenly, Juho remembered Mr. Moon's go-to phrase. "Not exactly wrong, but not exactly what I'm looking for either." 'What kind of answer was she looking for?' "I'm sure a lot of things came to you the moment you heard the dog's bark. Then, they died out in the blink of an eye. It all happens at once, so it's difficult to distinguish the process, but it's not impossible either. Try to pick out the thoughts in your mind while they're bunched up together like a lump of mud. It'll help you to keep them organized. Once you have them organized, your thoughts will be at your disposal when you need them." Whether it was a conscious effort or not, the brain interpreted signals coming in from the outside. Juho, then, took his time exploring his thoughts. 'The sound of barking. What was hiding behind it?" After a brief momentary thought, he opened his mouth and asked, "That I should go meet the dog?" "Deeper. Predicting yourself is also a way to go about this. Think about all the things you were thinking about at the same time. What would you have thought?" 'Dig deeper. What were the thoughts that I was having. Predict yourself,' he concentrated. He had heard a barking dog. Then, he had thought, 'A dog is barking.' Mrs. Baek asked a question. 'Then, what else was there? What kind of thoughts was I having?' "For now, tell me what you know," Yun Seo gave him a hint. He spent a brief time organizing his thoughts and said, "Dog, puppies. Commonly seen animal. Symbol of loyalty. A figure of speech for describing a loyal person. Mammalia Carnivora Canis. Domesticated wild animal. Common companion animal. History of its domestication goes back as far as 9,500BC. Walks on four legs. It has five toes in its front paws and four in its hind paws. Sharp teeth. Developed sense of smell. Sensitive hearing. Duration of pregnancy can range anywhere from sixty-two to sixty-eight days. Capable of reproducing approximately one year after birth. Gives birth to four to six puppies at once. Its offspring feed on their mother's milk for six to seven weeks. They start eating softer food around the fourth week. It has emotions and it expresses them through barking. There are cases of abandonment, in which they often die or adapt to nature and become wild dogs. It's widely understood to be on bad terms with cats. It's trainable. In as long of a history as it has had with humans, there are countless books that beautifully portray their relationship," he took a deep breath after pouring everything he knew about dogs out. While he'd been thinking about whether he should be say more, Geun Woo asked, "Do they teach things like that at school nowadays?" "No, I just happen to enjoy watching 'The Animal Kingdom.'" "I should check it out." "I recommend the bonobo episode to you." Yun Seo asked again when Juho finished making the recommendation, "What else?" There had to be more, but he was getting closer. He was able to tell that from Yun Seo's expressions. So, he calmly retraced his thoughts, calling back the ones he had let pass. There, he found emotions. "I thought of its heartbeat," Juho had thought of the dog's heartbeat as he heard its low resounding cry. "How so?" "I wanted to portray it into a sentence." He had wondered if there had been a way to describe it in writing, a sound that can only be made by a live animal. On the flipside of its rigid surface of knowledge, there were emotions breathing with life. Juho felt it subconsciously and wanted to express it into writing. Yun Seo's smile grew bigger. She had found his answer satisfying, which told him he might be going the right direction. "What was behind it?" He looked up to the ceiling. 'What was I thinking?' He wanted to include the dog in his writing. He had also thought about potential stories he could write with a dog. He had imagined the dog barking before the narrator. 'Why did I want to include the dog?' "Adorable," he murmured. "I thought the dog was adorable." He had found the dog adorable as it barked at him. It had smelled a stranger, and tried to protect its owner. He had thought that he wanted to go meet the dog, pat it and scratch underneath its chin. Yun Seo smiled quietly, and Juho was made certain by that smile that he had the answer she'd been looking for. "An author is a person who writes." "Yes, ma'am." "What kind of sentence did you want to write?" All. He didn't make any distinctions. He believed that he could write whatever he put his heart into it. He believed that an author was a person who was capable of that. However, it wasn't entirely true. There was something he wanted more than others. His heart went out to it first. There were things that one could and could not find in novels. "When my heart is tugging." He had been fond of the dog barking. Its sound resounded in his heart. It had moved him from within. After receiving a signal, his emotions had transferred it onto his hands and made him feel urgency. It made him feel like he had to reach for his pen. The mere sound of a barking dog had had such a profound impact on him. "I've been way too easy," said Juho as he chuckled. "Try presenting it in another way." She smiled brightly. He understood what she had been trying to teach him. After some thought, he came to realize the processes he went through when writing. There was a big difference between acting on cognitive awareness and depending on the subconsciousness. He felt at ease and like he'd gotten his hands on something that only existed in the form of a sense. At that moment, he couldn't help but think repeatedly of a certain individual. The woman in the white dress, exposing her stretched out belly that hung loosely. The woman who had run after her baby. Juho wanted her to regret. Her life had been destructive and immoral. Yet, he had been desperate to catch her at the cliff when she threw herself off. He had hoped to catch her by the hand. However, she had already vanished in the dark. 'What was I thinking as I watched the world around me came crashing down?' It had been the regret of not being able to protect her. 'Why did I want to protect her?' It had been because he had been in love with her. He had been loving her from the time her mouth had just opened up on her empty face. That was why he had been in such pain. That was the reason why he had wanted her to regret so badly, and he finally came to realize it. "Barbecue for dinner!" Geon Woo said with excitement. The meat was in the center of various side dishes and fresh vegetables. Everything on the table looked scrumptious. "Eat! There's plenty more of where that came from," Yun Seo said as she scooped out the rice to the bowls. The rice in the reddish brown bowl had an appetizing shine to it. It looked like it would even be good with kimchi alone. "Thank you Mrs. Baek!" With Yun Seo tasting the stew, everyone else picked up their chopsticks. Juho started with the side dishes that were around him. While he ate, Joon Soo stood up from his seat with his plate to take some meat over for Juho. "I bet you were hungry. Eat more." Impressed, Juho almost exclaimed out loud from his kind-hearted consideration. "Here, try the pepper too. It's really hot." In contrast to Joon Soo, Geun Woo was anxious to share his experience with the pepper with Juho. He'd been breathing raggedly after taking a bite and had chugged his water in a hurry. Geun Woo was quite the rowdy person. "I'm OK, thanks," declined Juho firmly as he brought the meat up to his mouth. It had been perfectly cooked. "This is great, Mrs. Baek." "She's an amazing cook," said Geun Woo as he tried to cool his tongue down. Everything on the table had been delicious so far, and there was plenty of food. "She's also generous," added Joon Soo gently, and Juho remembered the pile of fruits she had brought out earlier.

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74 Chapter 74- A Plateful 4

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Nothing's sadder than not having enough to eat," said Yun Seo. "She always says that when she cooks." "I agree. There's nothing sadder." Juho was able to relate to her as he reminisced about his old days when he had to rely on soup kitchen rations for survival. He knew the sadness in watching another person eating while he himself had been starving. "Huh… I was under the impression that you grew up in a wealthy family," Geun Woo said. "I do get that a lot," Juho answered. "Here, why don't you have some more peppers?" In the end, Juho finally took a bite. After dinner, he went out to the backyard and sat on the wooden bench. "What are you doing?" Joon Soon asked. "I'm watching the ants." Before his feet, there were ants lined up to return to their nest. As if they had understood what Juho and Joon Soo were talking about, they stopped for a brief moment. Juho moved his foot aside to let them through. "Did you get enough to eat?" Juho nodded as he thought about the generous portions. "Of course. It was delicious. I don't think I can eat another bite." "Uh-oh! That's not good. Mrs. Baek is about to bring out the desserts. The portions are probably going to be just as generous." "Hm." He really was in trouble, but he rubbed his belly. 'Would I be able to eat more?' As he counted his blessings, Joon Soo said, "I'm actually pretty full too. Would you like to look around the house? We might as well get some steps in." "The house?" Juho got up instead of giving an answer. Since he didn't have anything better to do, he followed Joon Soo's lead. Walking past the classroom where he had talked to Joon Soo and Geun Woo, he was met with two rooms to either side of him. "The rooms used to be for lodging, but we use it as studios now." "So, this is where you write?" "Yep. It helps me focus. I asked for it as a favor from Mrs. Baek. By the way, Geun Woo is using the other room." He opened the door. As it opened quietly, the first thing that came into Juho's view was countless poems that covered the entire room. "You must like poetry." They seemed beautiful even from a glance. He looked around the room. There was a desk and, on top of it, papers. Laptops, books and traces of research were scattered throughout the room. Surprisingly, there was also a bottle of alcohol. He hadn't seemed like the type to enjoy drinking. While Juho wondered curiously, Joon Soo said, "It's a hobby of mine. I recite them from time to time too." Juho took his eyes off the bottle and slowly walked toward the wall. There was another poem there. "It's in Chinese characters, so you might not be able to read it. Would you like a copy of the translation?" "Oh, no. It's fine." Joon Soo stopped abruptly. He hadn't expected that Juho would decline, but Juho said as he looked at him, "A jar of wine amid the flowers, without anyone knowing, I drink in solitude." Joon Soo's slightly droopy eyes widened gradually. "I raise my glass to the moon, there are three including my shadow. The moon doesn't know how to drink, and my shadow follows everything I do in vain," Juho read out loud. "You know how to read Chinese?" "I'm interested in language." "I'm impressed." Juho asked as he looked at the poem, "I'm seeing a lot of Li Taibo's works." Li Taibo had been a legendary figure in the poetry world, and there were a number of his poems in Joon Soo's room. Juho had also liked the poem that he'd just read. "I'm a fan. It's been a goal of mine to be a poet." Juho was caught by surprise, then. He had never known that Joon Soo wanted to be a poet. That was when he understood why Joon Soo had a bottle of alcohol in his room. If his role model was Li Taibo, it made sense that Joon Soo liked to drink. After all, Li Taibo was known for his love of liquor. Juho asked the novelist before his eyes, "So, what made you become a novelist?" "It wasn't for me, being a poet." Juho became curious as to what had made Joon Soo move on from poetry and switch over to novels. Seeing the curiosity in Juho's eyes, he willingly explained, "I never enjoyed the taste of alcohol." "Then, what's the bottle for? Is it for viewing purposes?" "You could say that. It's closer to being data than what it actually is," he said as he poured it into a stubby glass. It was clear. He tapped the glass with his fingers two more times. "I started writing because of poetry. I fell in love with its beauty, so I wanted to be a poet." He calmly shared his past dreams. "You didn't become a poet just because you didn't like the taste of alcohol, right?" Juho asked with his eyes on the glass in Joon Soo's hand. 'That's right," he said as he raised the glass. The moonlight shone onto the glass and made it sparkle. The sun had already set, and the moon had come up. It was lighting the world that had grown dark. Juho had spent quite some time in that house. "In other words, I didn't have the skill." "But you write so beautifully now. Is there a difference between poetry and novels?" "Of course!" he answered as he kept his eyes fixed on the glass. "I'm sure you understand what it feels like when you finish your story for the first time." "I do." Juho was a writer himself, and he knew what that felt like. It almost felt like everything was swept away as if he'd broken a window. Perhaps he would be able to replicate that feeling if he were to shout for about three days. He had put in everything he had. Like flowing down the river, he had let everything go in the current. More so than emptiness, he felt joy. "It felt like I spent every bit of what I had." "That sounds right. I felt the same. It kind of feels like this…" He brought the glass to his mouth. As the wine flowed down his throat, Joon Soo shook the glass three times. The glass emptied, with nothing remaining in it. "What happens next?" Joon Soo asked. "You gotta fill it back up," answered Juho. "That's right," answered Joon Soo as he filled his glass back up. The wine sparkled in the moonlight once again. "You know, I just never got into this." He had had his first taste of alcohol. Once the glass was empty, he had filled it back up. However, he didn't want to drink it. "Then?" Juho asked. "I wanted something completely different. That burning sensation in my throat was more than enough. Once I felt that, I was content. I didn't want to repeat it. To me, wine was a poem." He brought the glass to his mouth once again. The wine flowed into it, and the glass emptied once again. Juho recited another passage from the same poem he had read, "If the sky hadn't the appreciation for wine, there would have been one less star at night." (TL's note: there seems to have been a belief in China that one of the stars was responsible for wine and anything related to it.) "If the land hadn't the appreciation for wine, there would have been one less well to drink from," continued Joon Soo. (TL's note: The poem seems to be referring to the well either as a figure of speech for ample amount of wine or the city of Jiuquan, which the letters translate to 'well of wine.') "So, what else do you want to do instead of filling up your glass?" With a mischievous face, he flung open the window. The expression didn't fit his usual friendly appearance. A gust of wind rushed into the room and blew against the poems on the walls. 'What did he want more than poetry?' "Like this," answered Joon Soo as he hurled the glass out the window onto the backyard. It landed not too far from the wooden bench. Then, he reached out his hand and grabbed a leaf from a nearby branch and put it into his mouth. "To go out looking for something weird and unconventional." He was pursuing a new flavor. Rather than remembering the first taste of wine, he preferred chewing on meat and vegetables. "You'll find yourself chewing on rocks at that rate." "Don't worry. I have strong teeth." He'd been born to be a novelist. Without the tenacity of being able to chew on a pebble, an author would not be able to survive the challenges of his craft. "Although I still have a long way to go as a novelist." "I've been enjoying your work quite a bit." "I appreciate that. My new book is coming out this month. I'll send over a copy." "Is that so? I didn't know! Congratulations!" "I have a good feeling this time. It's my ninth novel since the debuting title," said Joon Soo playfully. Ninth. In his theory of luck, it made sense. "Sounds like it'll do well." "Right?" "Although, I regret to inform you that my book is coming out soon." "Ah, bummer," said Joon Soo as his smile turned to a sad face. As Juho looked at his face, he realized something about Joon Soo. His beautiful, elegant style had come from his past goal of being a poet. Maybe was able to write like a poet because of his memory of tasting wine for the first time rather than being lucky. When they returned to the wooden bench, they had an awkward laugh at the sight of all the desserts she had brought out. Juho headed to the park for his late evening exercise. Jogging had to have been a big help. He hadn't been running out of breath as easily as of late, and he felt great after sweating. Its refreshing sensation had a lot in common with the sensation of finishing a story for the first time. He ran past familiar sceneries for a while. As he reached the vending machine at the resting area, his phone rang in his pocket. He checked it after purchasing a drink. It was a text message from Seo Kwang. It was the time and place for the gathering between the club members. The following day, the club members would be coming together for the first time since the beginning of summer break. The place was Seo Kwang's house - in other words, a book store. After writing back with a brief response, he continued running. --- "Whew, it's getting warm." It had been a hot day. By the time Juho arrived at Seo Kwang's bookstore, all the club members were already there. It was the same place where Juho had counseled Seo Kwang about his first love. Before walking over to join them, Juho stopped to greet Seo Kwang's mother. "Hello, Mrs. Kim." "You're back! Would you like anything to drink?" She welcomed him gladly. Seo Kwang must have taken on after his mother. After a brief look at the menu, Juho said, "I'll have an iced tea, please." "You got it. Go join your friends!" "Yes, ma'am." When he joined the club members, they were already eating and drinking. "I didn't think I was late." "I'd never been here, so I left early just in case, but it turns out it's pretty close to where I live," said Sun Hwa. Bom nodded in agreement. They must have come together. "Baron? How about you?" "I came right after the contest, so I ended up getting here early." He had come from the sketching contest, but he didn't seem even a little bit tired. His endurance was admirable. When Juho took his seat, everyone sat exactly the same way as they did in the science room. Bom was opposite to him, and Seo Kwang was beside him. Sun Hwa sat diagonally from him, and Baron on the opposite side. It had been a while. "So how have you guys been?"

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75 Chapter 75 - The News Spreads

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Juho had been curious what the club members had been up to throughout the summer break. "I've been going to school. I applied for after school classes," said Sun Hwa. There was a backpack behind her. "Is that where you were earlier?" "Yep. I go everyday except the weekends." "It must be tiring." "I don't have to get up as early, so it's not too bad," said Bom. There was a backpack behind her as well. "You've been going too, huh?" "We're in different classes though. Sun Hwa's in intensive classes, but I can't keep up." There was no trace of cowardice in her expression. She knew her limits, and she had found her place accordingly. "You guys have been going to the same private institute, right?" Sun Hwa asked Baron and Seo Kwang. Seo Kwang had been studying English while Baron had been taking art lessons since the sketching contest. They both had made their decisions accordingly after deciding on a career path. "How have the art lessons been? Are they fun?" "My arm kind of hurts sometimes, but it's fun." "Do you draw statues like Venus or Agrippa?" "Of course!" Baron answered the freshmen as they questioned him curiously about his lessons. At that moment, Juho's drink made its way to the table. The taste of peach spread in his mouth as he took a sip. "What have you been up to?" Baron asked. All eyes were on him. "I've been writing," he answered indifferently. "Hehe! We have a true Literature Club member right here," said Seo Kwang with exaggeration. "I'm sure you guys have been too," answered Juho with a smile. As a club member himself, he had been watching the club members write, and they had enjoyed every bit of it. They wouldn't have stopped writing altogether just because they were on summer break. "You know, he scares me sometimes," Sun Hwa said as if she was trying to prove his point. "He can be like that," agreed Bom quietly. Seo Kwang shook his head as if he were used to it while Baron shrugged nonchalantly. "What did you write about?" Juho asked Sun Hwa. "I've been transcribing! I'm almost done with the second book. Time for 'nother round of candy," she said proudly as if she'd been waiting for the question. "I started working on my third book," said Bom as she quietly raised her hand. Seo Kwang added with a scoff, "Well, I'm almost done with my second book too." "Huh, you've done quite a bit. I remember you were pretty slow, both you and Juho." "It's a proof that I haven't been lazy." Sun Hwa scrunched her forehead. She didn't like the fact that Seo Kwang had caught up to her. By contrast, having caught her, Seo Kwang taunted her all the more. 'And that's how you get punched in the face,' Juho thought. "How about you Juho, how far did you get?" Bom asked. "Me?" "Yeah." "I'm still on my first book," he answered as he thought about the copy of his manuscript buried somewhere in his room. "Eh?" Ignoring the puzzled looks on everyone's faces, Juho took another sip of his iced tea. The scent of peach was rather pleasant. "Didn't you say you've been writing?" "He must have been working on something else," muttered Seo Kwang. "I didn't ask you." "Oh, I'm sorry. It was so obvious that I couldn't help myself. What are you goin' to do?" While Sun Hwa and Seo Kwang quarreled, Bom interjected, "Mr. Moon did say that transcription isn't about speed." "Still, the difference is so jarring. He could finish it in no time," said Sun Hwa as she looked at Juho with baffled eyes. "I've been doing other stuff," Juho answered calmly. "Other stuff?" Juho felt slightly uncomfortable with being the center of attention. "Like relationship counseling." "Cough!" Somebody coughed loudly, and it was obvious who it was. Both of the girls' eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Dating!?" "Who?" Even Baron seemed to be interested. Juho felt someone staring daggers at him from the side. "It's a real tear-jerker. I'd hate to make you guys cry," said Juho with a smile. 'Including Seo Kwang,' he thought. As expected, Seo Kwang took the initiative to calm the grumbling club members. "Yeah, where's the fun in listening to another person's dating life? Why don't we talk about books? Have you guys heard the news?" "What the, hey, move! I have to hear this!" "He said it's a tear-jerker. I don't want to cry when I don't have to." "Since when are you the emotional type?" To counter Sun Hwa resisting his effort to change subject, he took a more forceful approach. "Yun Woo's new book is coming out!" he blurted out. Juho felt Sun Hwa looking away from him and turning to Seo Kwang. 'I suppose that's one way to change the subject,' he thought. "Already? It hasn't even been that long since 'The Trace of a Bird.'" "It's been less than a year, hasn't it?" Bom said as she retraced her memory. Seo Kwang nodded. "That's what makes it even more amazing. The genius that shook the entire country is making a comeback with a new book within a year!" "Is that for sure?" "He's the most searched person on the internet right now. I saw an article this morning. You guys are probably the only ones who didn't know." Before anybody else, Baron quietly took out his phone and looked for the article. It didn't take long at all. 'Seventeen-Year-Old Author Yun Woo Writing Next Book.' "Wow, it's true," murmured Sun Hwa as she took Baron's phone from his hand. Juho had been expecting an article to come out around that day. The publishing company had told him that they were planning on starting the promotion early. "Apparently, the publishing company is figuring out a release date. I didn't think it'd happen this soon," said Baron as he read the article. Juho quietly looked at him and asked, "Why is that?" "Huh?" "Why did you think that you'd have to wait longer?" "Well, a big burden tends to follow after a big success. People have been calling him things like genius, so he probably wouldn't be able to act so quickly," he answered as if the answer had been obvious. On the screen, the word 'genius' actually appeared multiple times throughout the article. It was also a commonly-found word in articles regarding Yun Woo. "I didn't realize how difficult writing was until I actually started writing myself," said Baron. In the Literature Club, Juho had been the only person who had gotten a writing sample from him. It had been the only piece of writing Baron had ever done since joining the club. "Honestly, I thought writing wouldn't take all that long. Well, I'm not saying that I actually thought that, but that's the feeling it carries. I thought I'd be able to pick it up quickly after some practice. I've written plenty of book reports." "But?" "It was completely different from writing book reports." Writing a novel was different from writing a book report for school. The ability to write wasn't necessarily equivalent to the ability to write an original story. Baron thought about the first composition he had ever submitted. Even the thought of it was embarrassing. He had been inexperienced then. Writing a story in his head had been as difficult as writing a song with a melody in his head. "The embarrassment is a plus. It almost felt like I was standing butt naked in the middle of a crowd. You don't really feel that when you're writing a book report. I don't know why I felt so exposed," said Baron with an awkward face. "All in all, what I'm saying is that Yun Woo is incredible. I admire him for pushing through that painfully embarrassing process." "But he's a genius," Juho said after a brief time thinking. "They're people too. They might be several times more sensitive than us, which means they feel pain several times more intense than ours." "That's an interesting thought." "Is that right?" "Don't you think the word 'crisis' isn't applicable to a genius? They just do things with such ease. That's why people want to be like them." "That's true, but I don't get that from Yun Woo for some reason. There's a sense of urgency in his writing. Maybe that has something to do with it." Juho had no choice but to change the subject, "You're fanboying pretty hard there." "What's wrong with that?" "Yeah!" Seo Kwang interfered. "Yun Woo is a gifted author. You should work hard so you don't fall behind. You don't have time to be doing other stuff. You should be writing!" "Oh, yeah? Whose dating life were we talking about just now?" "Ah!" "Juho Woo! Quit keeping us on our toes! Who is it? Is it somebody I know?" "Oh, hey! Here's another article." "Hey! Move!" Seo Kwang had somehow managed to bring the subject back to Yun Woo, and Juho quietly sipped his iced tea as he watched the commotion. * "I love my work." There was another person who was filled with joy at the news of Yun Woo's next book, and that was none other than Nabi Baek, the publishing agent. She was humming cheerfully on the inside from the fact that she would be able to read yet another book from her favorite author. She had heard the news that the new book was set to reach marketplaces before the end of the summer. Before the end of that scorching summer, she would be able to get her hands on Yun Woo's new book. She couldn't help but hum cheerfully. She couldn't contain her excitement. Besides, 'The Trace of a Bird' was doing rather well in the US market. She thought about the day when she first introduced the book to Molley. He had read through the sample she'd brought in one breath. "My God," he said. A veteran agent had exclaimed that, and she felt the suppressed excitement behind those two words. Behind the eyes that sparkled, there was the overwhelming joy of an agent meeting a new author. With the heart of a proud parent, she added, "He is sixteen." "Incredible." "You're right. The entirety of South Korea is going through a Yun Woo fever. I want to spread that fever to the world." "... We'll get on it as soon as possible," he said as he dialed his agency on his phone. Now, the story of Yun Woo would be made known to the world. Nabi was certain. Other agents who would hear from Molley would read the sample, and they too would be astonished. She wanted to distribute the book throughout the world, like a nabi, a butterfly. In the end, Nabi's prediction had been accurate. The book was an enormous hit across Japan, China, Italy, the Netherlands, France, Spain, Germany, and many more. Finally, she'd received a long-awaited offer from an American publishing company. It hadn't been from an ordinary publishing company either. It had been from a world-renowned company that represented the US - 'Fernand,' and Nabi had screamed for joy.

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76 Chapter 76 - The Title

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Fernand was one of the most iconic publishing companies among literature lovers. Having celebrated their 100th anniversary not too long ago, Fernand was a company of tradition. It had been that very company who had expressed interest in publishing Yun Woo's book. Since the articles regarding his book entering the American market, many publishing agents had disregarded Yun Woo because of his age. Now, with the news of Fernand taking interest in his book, those agents began to take interest themselves. Many countries across the globe had focused their attention on the appearance of a new author. So far, Nabi was putting everything she had into the project. 'Have I ever worked this hard on a project?' she thought. Her seeds of effort had bore more than enough fruit. She was overcome with a sense of accomplishment. On top of that, Yun Woo was making a comeback with his new book. She couldn't have been happier. She didn't resist her joy as she read through the emails that were coming in from all over the world. She felt her coworkers giving her an odd look, but she didn't mind one bit. Including the US and UK, there were offers from a whopping twenty-two countries. Yun Woo's book would spread the Korean wave in literature throughout the world. The fact that she had been behind it brought her unimaginable joy. "Hehe." Nabi thought back to her meeting with a senior editor at Fernand. She remembered the distinct scent of cologne Adam had worn. It was a luxurious brand that he was known to wear. His elegant appearance had left quite an impression on Nabi. Though he was known to be rough around the edges, he'd been rather friendly with her. While trying to stay relaxed, she focused the subject of Yun Woo's book along with Molley, the veteran agent. "It seems like the author is just as interesting as his writing." "There hasn't been anybody like him." Yun Woo as an author had shocked the many, and Adam nodded. "Including myself, the anticipation is apparent even within the company. Of course, there are some necessary adjustments that need to be made, but the translation is top notch, and most of all, it was beautifully written. From the moment I started reading, I didn't even think about his age or where he's from." "It sounds like I brought you quite a catch." "I knew I can count on Mr. Molley," he said confidently. His company pride was rather apparent in his face even in the midst of discussing Yun Woo. The fact that he had picked such an amazing book contributed to his pride. Seeing his confident attitude, Nabi felt like his confidence was rubbing off on her. "Yun Woo will soar up to the sky. We, Fernand, will do whatever it takes to present his book in every corner of the Earth." Yun Woo's success. The rise of 'The Trace of a Bird.' Nabi's heart pounded with excitement. She felt overwhelmed that she had gotten to be part of such a moment in the history of literature. In order to remain calm, she had to forcefully clench down on her teeth. * Juho was sitting in front of his desk with his phone in front of him. He thought of Nabi. "We did it," she said with a shaky voice. She had sounded like she was suppressing her emotions. Having already seen the article, Juho immediately knew what she'd meant, an offer from a famous American publishing company, and 200,000 copies of the first edition being exported to twenty-two countries. The entire world was focusing on his book. With her news, he felt the corners of his mouth turning up. The result was different from the past. It was much better. He felt relieved in that moment at least. With his chin resting on his hand, he let out a silly smile. He was happy and he didn't try to resist it. After indulging himself for a little while, he remembered the reason he was sitting in front of his desk. He had been contemplating a title for the new book. Every author had a different approach to naming their books. In Juho's case, the name didn't matter all that much. Regardless of whether he thought of a name before, during, or after writing, he was content. No matter who came up with it, he was content. He didn't insist on anything. It was his impulsive character coming out. Some time prior, he met with Nam Kyung to discuss the title for the book. "So, how are you planning on naming your book?" Being aware of the significance of the title of a book, the publishing company had wrestled with the matter until moments before publishing. According to Nam Kyung, there had been several ideas that had come up during the meeting. People from all departments had come together for a discussion. The conclusion had been that "The Mother" as a working title didn't have enough impact, and Juho agreed. It had been a working title after all. He had named it as such for the sake of convenience. "Hm." There would have to be a different name.'What would be good?' he thought. There was nothing. 'Title, title, title,' the word floated around in his head. It was a sign that his mind was empty. He had burnt out when he was one step away from having his manuscript finalized. His mind was no longer functioning. As he stared at the ceiling in a daze, he sat up and looked around at his surroundings for any potential ideas. Books, manuscript paper, pen, computer, bed, chair, desk. Nothing offered what he was looking for. 'I have to send the manuscript over to Nam Kyung soon…' He couldn't think of anything. 'Title, title.' "Name," Juho said out loud. The word had been nothing more than its meaning. 'I need something that can embrace the book, something that will give it a face…' That time, he tried to write out his thoughts. "Mother, son, clown, audience, father, owner, lover, baby." The son was the narrator. The mother was the protagonist. Together, they led a life that was both destructive and twisted. Then, the baby. At the end of it all, there were regrets. 'Regrets… How does one act when they have regrets?" 'Caw!' The cry of a bird sounded, and Juho looked out of the window. He thought of a bird that he had included in his new book. It had died once, but it had been revived somehow. The mother told the story about the bird that she had seen. Juho didn't write about the significance of the bird that had revived in detail. Some would see freedom whereas others would see reality. There were infinite possibilities for what the bird signified. What mattered was that freedom was amid that infinity. He didn't want to discourage the readers from discovering that. "The Sound of Wailing," he read out loud as he wrote it out. It embodied the sounds of crying that couldn't be heard from within the book. 'Maybe it could work as a title,' he thought. While he stared at the paper he was writing on, he put down his pen and looked intently at his palm. There had been an wound around it somewhere. He remembered bleeding from his hand when he had heard the cry of the baby for the first time. He tried revisiting what he had felt at that time, when he sighed of relief when he saw that the baby was OK. The cry of the baby was both evidence and signal. It was crying out for something, and Juho hoped that the baby wouldn't stop crying in its effort to seeking after something. He rubbed where the wound had been. Soon, he picked up his phone and sent Nam Kyung a message. "I've decided on the title for the book. 'The Sound of Wailing.'' A few minutes later, Nam Kyung sent an affirming response. Juho stretched. * "Yawn!" Nam Kyung yawned loudly as he shook his head as hard as he could to keep himself awake. He had been flooded with work as of late because he had been focusing on the publication of Yun Woo's next book, 'The Sound of Wailing.' In that rush of work, Nam Kyung still couldn't believe the fact that he was working on Yun Woo's new book before the year had passed. 'Who would have thought that he would write a new book so soon?' To be frank, Nam Kyung had been concerned. Though he had been called a genius, he was still young. He had only written one book aside from the most recent, and Nam Kyung knew countless no-name authors who had left the literary world after their debut titles. Most of them were praised for their talent and were regarded as promising aspirants. However, before they even had the chance to write their next book, they vanished from the literary world. All they had to do was to simply write one more time. Yet, they couldn't carry it out. It was evidence that being a writer took more than just talent. He was afraid that Yun Woo would meet the same fate. His debut title, 'The Trace of a Bird' had been a steady sell, and it had held its place as the number one bestseller. 'If I were Yun Woo, I would've worked on the next book around the time the fever started to die down, very slowly,' he thought. There was no apparent reason other than that it would have been burdensome. Even to that day, the name Yun Woo could be seen frequently on the internet. People were showing tremendous interest with news of his new book. Nam Kyung didn't have the confidence to surpass those expectations. At that moment, a phone rang beside him. Mr. Maeng answered, "Zelkova Publishing Company." As he answered the call, his expression grew somewhat darker, and Nam Kyung knew immediately. "Yes, right. Yun Woo did write it himself. Yes, the new book is coming out." It was an anonymous reader. The publishing company would receive a number of calls like that throughout the day. Yun Woo's popularity in the literary world matched that of a celebrity. Seventeen years old. A freshman in high school. Now, he was about to make a comeback with a new book. He had submitted his manuscript while looking all the more at peace. Nam Kyung couldn't help but laugh out of astonishment. Juho was a rather interesting character. Part of his job was dealing with authors like him, so being an editor wasn't such a bad thing. He got up from his seat and said to his coworker, "I'm making a stop at the design department. I'll be back." He had decided to request for the cover design himself. A young, fearless author had brought in a new book that he had written. Now, there was nothing he could do other than to try his very best to make that book reach as many people as possible and for it to be made in the most beautiful way possible. He had to make sure that the cover got designed by the best designer around. "You've come to the right place." She had a low voice for a woman. Considering how tired she sounded, her department must have been just as busy as Nam Kyung's. Though he felt bad, he explained his purpose, "I wanted to request for a cover design." She was a rather skilled book designer. Her works were easily found in bookstores, and she excelled in interpreting the author's intentions and portraying them clearly through her illustrations. At Nam Kyung's words, her voice quickly changed. "Is this what I think it is?" "You've heard the news, right?" A high pitched laughter echoed in the room. She had been somewhat of a workaholic. Even if it weren't for that fact, she had been certain that Nam Kyung would've come looking for her. "You asked me to bring you the book after 'The Trace of a Bird.' I'm here to keep that promise." While she was a skilled designer, she was also a fan of Yun Woo. Without hesitation, she took out a calendar and adjusted her schedule in a hurry. Soon, a trustworthy response came back. "I'll take the manuscript now."

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77 Chapter 77 - Smooth Sail

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl A group of people stood in a circle inside the meeting room, each wearing a serious look. In the center, were the four designs that were candidates for the book cover of Yun Woo's next book. "Not these two." The choices were narrowed down. The two remaining designs were in contrast of one another even in their overall color scheme. Blood and ash. On the left, there was a glossy cover with a white cloth waving in the red background. On the right, there was a matte cover with an empty chair and a bird on a gray background. The design on the left evoked the image of the mother, the protagonist, whereas the design on the right signified the overall tone of the book. Zelkova had received many praises for their book designs. Rightfully so, both were equally beautiful. "Shall we?" It was a meeting to determine the cover design for Yun Woo's next book. Everyone looked serious. In that tense atmosphere, the editor-in-chief broke the ice, "I think I like the one on the left. It matches the mother. The red and white really stand out too." Having been thinking the same, Nam Kyung nodded quietly, but at that moment, Mr. Seo said, "I'm voting for the one of the right. The strongest emotion I felt while reading this book was regret. It had a bitter aftertaste. As long as the cover has the name 'Yun Woo' on it, I don't think it would be a bad idea to go with a calmer design. The illustration is at the center too, so it gives balance." Nam Kyung nodded once again. Mr. Seo had a good point. Nothing promoted the book more than the name 'Yun Woo.' Yet, books had always benefited from promotion, and the design on the left definitely stood out. Nam Kyung contemplated his options. He wanted to use both if possible. "I prefer the left one," said Ms. Song. "The mother is the protagonist. I like that it implies her unfortunate demise. Besides, it really jumps out." "Right," the editor-in-chief agreed. 'I guess we're leaning towards the left,' Nam Kyung thought. At that moment, Mr. Maeng raised his hand as if he had an objection to make. "I prefer the one on the right. Like what Mr. Seo said, I think the name of the author and the fact that it's Yun Woo's next book would be enough to catch people's attention. Besides, this design is closer to the book's overall feel - sad and calm." Ms. Song quickly made an argument back, "It's true, but the mother is the protagonist. From that point of view, I think the left stays more true to the book." It was a tight debate, and everyone glared at the two designs on the table. "I think the book embodies enough loneliness. Assuming that the purpose of the cover is to lead the readers into its loneliness, then I think the left one is a better choice." Mr. Seo objected, "We can't disregard the fact that the cover serves the purpose of representing the book as a whole." "Isn't the white cloth already representative of the book? I think we should focus on the mother." "The characters are important too, but we can't set aside the emotions either." "Who said anything about setting anything aside? It's just as potent as the emotions. At the same time, it really sticks out." "But the name Yun Woo would already be eye-catching." "We can't make it too plain just because his name is on it either." "It may not be as stimulating, but I wouldn't say that it's necessarily plain." Everyone discussed passionately. It was a familiar sight. Nam Kyung turned his eyes away from the people to look at the two designs. There was a bird on one of them. A bird. Much like the first book, a bird appeared in "The Sound of Wailing' as well. Its significance would be up to the reader's interpretation. To Nam Kyung, it signified the hope that the protagonist had once held onto. A pair of wings born from her hope of meeting her baby. A pair of wings big enough to embrace both of her children. A pair of wings that she couldn't have. Those were his interpretations. Like the editor-in-chief, Nam Kyung, too, had wanted the image of the protagonist to be reflected on the cover. After all, she was rather charming. 'Wouldn't that bird be reminiscent of the mother?' he thought. "In my humble opinion," Nam Kyung opened his mouth amid the commotion, and everyone stopped talking. "Right, let's hear your opinion. You're the editor of the book," Mr. Seo said as he gestured to Nam Kyung. "I think the bird would be better suited," Nam Kyung said in the somewhat uncomfortable atmosphere. The editor-in-chief listened intently. "I interpreted the bird to be the representation of the mother. Even if it's not accurate, it would make sense to anybody who had read the book." "That is true. I interpreted it as motherly love," said Ms. Song. The editor-in-chief nodded quietly. Having read the book himself, it made sense to him. The bird portrayed not only the mother, but also her loneliness. "Well then, should we go with the bird?" he asked after a brief silence. There were no further objections, and the meeting finally came to an end. Nam Kyung walked out of the meeting room and headed toward the lounge. He was exhausted. As he reached for a bag of green tea, Mr. Maeng approached and asked, "Could you take a look at the sales report for all bookstores?" "Leave it on my desk. I'll look at it later," Nam Kyung answered with a yawn. "Busy, huh?" Mr. Maeng asked, looking in his direction. "This is what it's like to be Yun Woo's editor." "Hehe… well, good luck." With a pack of instant coffee, Mr. Maeng left the lounge. Meanwhile, Nam Kyung sat on the bench to cool his head and organize his thoughts. He thought about what needed to be done in the future. 'Print shop, temporary binding, and check for misprints 'til the very end.'' The sound of an industrial printer lingered in his ears. Though it would have been ideal if books were made perfectly, there were always misprints. After all, the machine still had to be operated by a human. It wouldn't even be odd if something were to happen. That was why he was thought of by many to be ridiculous. From the kind of ink and paper to the book design and title, there were simply too many choices that needed to be made as an editor. "I should go for a walk." He walked out of his office and headed to the street. There were buildings, cars, people and pigeons around him. Although walking in the vicinity, nothing really caught his eyes. The walk wasn't very helpful to him. So, soon, he headed back to his office. As turned the corner, he saw the editor-in-chief on his smoke break. The chief saw Nam Kyung and gestured for him to approach. "How are things with the copies?" "I even came out for a walk like Yun Woo, but I'm getting nothing," answered Nam Kyung, shaking his head. 'Good thing I'm an editor, not an author,' he thought. "Well, hang in there. Try walking around some more." "Being Yun Woo's editor is exhausting." Coming up with a press release for Yun Woo wasn't easy. It couldn't be awkward. Nam Kyung didn't even think about writing like Yun Woo, but it still had to be on a respectable level. It had to suit his book. As he flicked the ashes off of the cigarette, the editor-in-chief shared his impromptu idea, "Yun Woo, the handsome genius is back with his perilous tale. He will not disappoint." "Eh… I don't know." "You sound like you want to work overtime." "The bestest of ideas, sir." The editor-in-chief laughed with his hand in his pocket. "I don't expect anything as distinct as Mr. Woo's writing, but it'd be nice to have something with character still," he said in passing. Nam Kyung nodded as if he had been looking for the very same thing. "That's why I pushed for a design that was more stimulating to the eyes. It's clear and powerful, like Mr. Woo's style." "It's too late to look back now, unfortunately." "Well, now that I think about it, the gray wouldn't have looked that bad. It reminds me of cigarette smoke," he said as he shook his hand. The cigarette followed its movement. At that moment, Nam Kyung's eyes fixated on the hand. "The smoking scene was rather shocking." "When I read it, I thought Mr. Woo was an adult for a moment." The book portrayed the smoking mother in great detail. While it described the mother's appearance from the narrator's point of view, it also revealed the life she had been living. Her life resembled the smoke of a cigarette - stinging and in vain. "Me too." They looked back. Mr. Seo was just returning to the office. The dark circles underneath his eyes were telling of his busy schedule. Being in the sales department, he was busy with organizing advertisements and events, as well as visiting bookstores and interacting with his clients. Especially in the current season, his workload doubled the usual amount. Nam Kyung exchanged a nod with him in greeting. It was apparent how exhausted he was. "That's how vivid it was. It almost sounded like a middle-aged man who had been smoking for the last decade," he added. He had a pack of cigarettes in his hand. Like how Mr. Seo had described, the scene was quite vivid as Yun Woo's style tended to be. For that reason, the mother's life came as a shock all the more. "I wonder if there's a sentence that has to do with cigarettes," he muttered. "Cigarettes?" Nam Kyung asked as he quickly lifted his chin, startling Mr.Seo. "Honestly, I've been having the same thought," he answered with a smile as he spread out two fingers. "There's something about it that gives off a dangerous vibe, like cigarettes. There's an element of danger in this book. Once you get a taste for it, you can't stop it, even knowing that you're rotting from within." 'An element of danger.' Nam Kyung felt like he was onto something. "I should head back now, enjoy your smoke." "OK, I'll see you inside." Mr. Seo casually headed back to his office, and Nam Kyung kept on thinking. 'Cigarette. Element of danger. What about something that sounds like a warning? 'Smoking may be harmful to your body. Would you still do it?' Something to that effect. Smokers don't stop even after reading a warning like that.' Nam Kyung took a branch and wrote a sentence on the dirt. He felt the editor-in-chief looking in his direction. "Are you prepared for regrets?" At that moment, he felt something heavy on his shoulder. It was the editor-in-chief putting his hand on Nam Kyung. They smiled at one another. Yun Woo's new book was smooth sailing. * "I can't sleep," Juho muttered as he sat up on his bed. He had been struggling to sleep because the release date was merely hours away. 'Tomorrow. After tonight, my next book will be out. It'll be out for all the world to see.' He felt worried but excited at the same time. A strange feeling entangled his body. Closing his eyes or taking deep breaths couldn't contain his excitement. He opened the window. There was no breeze. The sun was already down. There was no moon nor stars, and the sky was filled with nothing but a gaping darkness.

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78 Chapter 78 - A Unseen Scenery

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl 'Am I anxious?' Juho asked himself. After having drowned in the river, "The Sound of Wailing" was a book that he had barely managed to write. Prior to that, his second book had been the beginning of his downfall. Now, he was revisiting that moment for the second time. "This doesn't feel real." Juho tried to think out loud. None of it felt real. He felt no anxiety, restlessness, or even excitement. His right hand started to feel numb. He looked up at the dark sky. As it swallowed everything whole, it seemed to have done the same with the sky. It was silent. No sound came out of Juho's tightly clenched lips, not even the sound of breathing. It had been in an environment like that where he'd written his second book. Writing at night was not always the best choice. Darkness tended to hinder vision. Naturally, if there was nothing to be seen, one would find himself in high spirits. What felt like a masterpiece at one point became unveiled by the morning sun, revealing its true, pathetic nature. In some cases, it accompanied feelings of pain and misery. Yet, Juho had written at night, and school hadn't been his only reason for it. He had wanted to take advantage of its nature. Darkness hid everything, including the burdens from the past. The dark of the night felt somewhat awkward without a pen in his hand. He lay on his bed and looked up at the ceiling. Sounds that were once distant started to make their way back. Things that were trapped within the dark slowly revealed themselves one by one. The clock's hand ticked away, and he heard someone approaching. It became more and more vivid as he closed his eyes. Everything in the room was making a sound. 'Caw! Caw!' Juho opened his eyes at the sound of crows. The bright morning sun was illuminating his room. "Ugh," he grumbled. He had stayed up all night. "The book is here!" The publishing company had sent Juho a fresh copy of his book. No one was home, so he reached into the mailbox and took out the book. There was a bird with a chair in a gray background on the cover. "The Sound of Wailing." The weight of the book in his hand had quite a presence. On the back, there was a testimonial from Dong Gil and an excerpt from the book. There was also a phrase written on the binding of the book that read 'Are you prepared for regrets?' It wasn't half bad. At that moment, his phone rang. "Did you get your book?" It was Nam Kyung. "Why, yes, I did." "What do you think?" he asked. Juho smiled quietly. From its weight to its thickness, everything felt just right. Even as he conversed with Nam Kyung, the book never left his hand. After the brief phone call, Juho made his way back into his room with his book. The room was just as messy as when he left it. It showed that no one had come in after him. He quietly stared at the scenery of his room as he stood by the door. His heart was racing. His hand slowly brushed downward from his mouth. 'I really am back.' He realized that he was living through the time of his downfall once again. Slowly, he opened the book. It was rigid, but smooth at the same time. Putting his nose onto it, he inhaled deeply. The smell of ink helped him finally realize that it was all real. He had written a new book. His last attempt at writing a second book had led him to his downfall, but this time, he had written a completely different book. His heart was throbbing with excitement. It was daytime, when everything revealed its true shape. The feelings that had been hiding in the dark slowly rose to surface one by one. 'It's this book. What I wrote after drowning in the river, it's all in here,' he thought as he brushed his hand across the book. It was real. He had done it. He had successfully written a second book. That alone brought him an enormous sense of relief, and he couldn't help but laugh. He had finally finished it. Until he reached the finish line, he'd been wrestling with a lump of emotions. There had been nothing certain in that lump, and he had been repeatedly trimming it while occasionally setting it aside. He had stayed up night after night to see to its completion while meeting and remembering countless people, revisiting the emotions he had had with them. He had felt overwhelmed. "The Sound of Wailing." Gray background. A bird and an empty chair. Everything about it was new. It was his newly written story. It was proof. Even if the book didn't do well, it still wouldn't be the same failure he experienced before. He wasn't living through the same past. As he put his book on his desk, his sweaty palm attached itself to the cover of the book. The coolness in the air quickly filled the gap as the hand detached. He took a step back and looked at the papers and letters that filled the room along with his pens and books. Within the mass, the new book. "The completion of a unseen scenery." Juho laughed for a good while as he wiped the tears from his eyes. He was in a great mood. Looking at the finished product, a sense of relief overtook him. No other thoughts entered his mind amid the euphoria. He sat on his chair and leaned back on the backrest, staring intently at the book on his desk. His face fell onto the desk. As he felt the texture of the cover, its coldness slowly dissipated. On the other hand, his red flushed, face grew colder. Now was the time for evaluations. The time had come for him to hear what the readers and critics thought of and how they interpreted his hard work. With a sluggish movement, he reached for the power switch on his computer. Its mechanical whirring grew louder and louder. He hadn't noticed the sound before. While he had his head down, the light from the screen shone onto his face. With a slight pain in his eyes, he moved his mouse and opened the internet browser. His eyes were met with a list of "most searched keywords." '1. Yun Woo.' He moved his cursor onto it and clicked it. There weren't any reviews or columns on the book as of yet. It would take some time to read through an 800-page, full-length novel. The news of Yun Woo coming out with a new book had been enough to attract the attention of the masses. His heart pounded. While he had finished his book, things weren't quite over just yet. 'Caw!' a crow sounded from the outside. --- "Let me help you with that." Many people would line up to buy from a slew of books being sold at the bookstore. Often, they would choose a book based on plot, cover, an epilogue or testimonials, publishing company, or the name of the author. Bookstore were full of such people, and Juho was one of them. As a customer, all he had to do was to pick a book and pay. Yet, he didn't pick a book. The reason for his visit wasn't to buy a book. Trying not to look suspicious, he carefully approached the section where Yun Woo's books were being displayed. "What's this book?" "Oh, yeah! I've heard good things about it." "I like the cover. It's pretty!" "You need to read what's in it, you know." There were sounds of people talking. Juho stood in a corner while pretending to look at the books on the shelf, keeping his ears open. The display rack near the cashier was a spot that was particularly crowded. It was one of the first places that people saw as they walked in. There, 'The Sound of Wailing' was on display. A woman picked up a copy from the rack. The book wobbled in her hands. Another lady beside her said, "That's Yun Woo's new book, right?" "Yep. It came out so soon, too!" "I guess people don't call him a genius for no reason." She examined the book in her hand, its cover and binding, opening it for a brief moment before closing it again, then flipping it. She read the excerpt in the back of the book and turned her eyes to the testimonial from Dong Gil. "This sounds interesting. It sounds like it's about a mother?" "A mother huh? It kind of sounds predictable. Maybe it's about motherly love." "Maybe… Wait, look at this," one of them said as she showed the cover to her friend. "Apparently it's going to make me regret. Maybe it's not entirely about motherly love." "Pff. What if you don't?" her friend said as she picked up a copy for herself. After scanning through the book, she seemed to have decided to buy it. "I'll just call the publishing company if I don't find myself regretting after reading it." "What are you going to say?" "I didn't regret. I'd like for you to tell me what Yun Woo looks like as reimbursement." "Haha! I'd be pretty dumbfounded if I were them, but speaking of that, I am curious as to what he looks like." The two headed straight to the cashier. Having overheard their conversation word for word, Juho felt the corners of his mouth turning up. He felt a sudden urge to walk up to them and say, 'this is what Yun Woo looks like.' As he watched the two women walk out of the bookstore with their books in hand, he imagined how things would turn out if he were to reveal his identity. 'Probably not wise,' he thought. "So, this is the book I've been hearing so much about!" That time, a middle-aged man and a woman who looked to be his wife approached the display rack. Juho got closer to them to listen to what they were saying. Again, he pretended to be looking at books, trying to look as natural as possible. "Honey, do you know about this?" the wife asked. "Oh, yeah! Yun Woo? That's our daughter's recent celebrity crush, isn't it? She's always talking about how handsome he is when she's never even met him in person," the husband said with apparent bitterness. On the other hand, the wife had a cheerful smile. "Kids tend to be like that at that age. They tend to be led my emotions, and that's how they learn to see the unseen." "Eh… I've read 'The Trace of a Bird' myself, and this kid is no good for our daughter. He's cowardly. He doesn't know how to face difficulties like a man. Our daughter would had a miserable marriage if she were to marry a guy like him." "You make it sound like Yun Woo wants to marry our daughter. Haha!" Juho smiled as he listened to their conversation. The father seemed to have assumed that the protagonist, Yun, was the direct translation of its creator's actual personality. As absurd as it was, he couldn't be the only reader who thought that way. One naturally tended to look for the author's personality in his writing. After each picking up a copy, the two headed toward the cashier. Juho thought as he looked at them standing in line, 'What would they think of me after reading 'The Sound of Wailing?' Would they think of me as someone twisted and destructive like the mother, or a loner like the son? If neither, would they think of me as the clown who only knows how to mimic others?' Regardless of how they thought of him, he didn't want to be viewed as an amateur author who wrote subpar books. For a brief time, he turned his eyes to the book in his hand, which he had been stroking for some time. It was the book that he still hadn't finished transcribing, "The Winter."

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79 Chapter 79 - You Won’t Regret i

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl While reading it casually, the uneasiness of the book wasn't all that apparent. Like an actor who was lost in his character, its emotions were raw and uncontrolled. As he was about to open the book to its first page, he heard a voice, "It's here! 'The Sound of Wailing!'" When he glanced over, there were a boy and a girl who looked to be elementary students. The girl seemed to be delighted that she had found the 'The Sound of Wailing.' Juho set aside his thoughts and focused his ears. "This book is lit! You should read it!" "What's so great about it?" The boy asked apathetically. "You know Yun Woo, don't you? It's his new book." "Oh, yeah, I've heard that name. I heard he's in high school." "He's my favorite writer. I read it as soon as it came out. You should too. I recommend it." "Why me? I hate books." "You'll cry like a baby after you read it." The boy sneered. "Pff! I've never cried from reading." "I hadn't either, until I read this one." In the end, the girl had won the argument, and the boy quietly listened to her, still looking indifferent. "Yun Woo is a real genius. I want to be just like him. I thought no book would be as perfect as 'The Trace of a Bird,' but this new book changed my mind." Hearing such praise from an elementary student, Juho couldn't help but feel worried. 'That book probably isn't appropriate for kids her age…' "What do you like about it so much?" "I don't want to live like this person." "What?" The boy asked as he looked at her dumbfoundedly. "When I grow up, I want to raise my child with everything I've got. I'll never smoke. I'll ask for help when I need it and I'll give it when a person asks for it." "What does any of that have to do with what I just asked?" "That's what I like about it. I like that it helps me understand what I want to do in the future," she said as her eyes sparkled. "I felt the same way after reading 'The Trace of a Bird.' I decided I wanted to be a writer, so I went to the store and bought a notebook that same day. It hadn't even crossed my mind before. Writing was just boring to me, but I changed my mind after reading that book. Yun Woo is amazing. I want to be just like him." "I didn't understand a word of what you've just said," the boy said as he gave her the same dumbfounded look. "Well, my mom gave me some money for books. I'm hungry, can we get some food?" "OK, I'll tell you more as we eat." With that, the two walked out of the bookstore. Juho thought as he tried to tame his excitement, 'I guess visiting the bookstore from time to time isn't all that bad.' He looked at the two kids who were on their way out. They were both short, and the boy was even shorter than the girl. Perhaps it was around their age when readers were capable of maintaining the purest perspective toward what they read. Being a young reader had its advantages, especially when it came to looking forward to the future rather than the experience described in the book. From then on, many people visited the bookstore and bought Juho's book. At one point, there was a lady with colorful nails and jewelry that sparkled all the more on the gray background. At another, there was another hand that was wrapped in bandages and a person who was covered in dust. Some were in suits with their employment IDs around their neck. Some snatched the book without even examining it, whereas a boisterous group of high school girls took copies of the book in a bundle. Then, a woman who seemed to be a university student read through the first few pages with her earphones on, placing it on top of a pile that she had in her hands. People of all ages, genders, nails, attires, appearances, and behaviors walked out of the bookstore with a copy of 'The Sound of Wailing.' Juho looked at those people absent-mindedly. "Sorry, sir. Pardon me." "Of course." Juho moved aside for an employee with a cart filled with 'The Sound of Wailing.' When Juho turned his eyes back to the display rack, most of the books piled up on it were already gone. As lunch hour approached, the bookstore became all the more crowded. There were long lines in front of the cashiers. As Juho looked at the crowd, he took a step back. "Excuse me," said a familiar voice. However, it wasn't directed toward Juho. It sounded like it had come from near the display rack. Juho slowly turned his head to find out who the voice belonged to. "Pardon me." There was a distinct politeness in the man's tone. By the the time his hand reached for the gray book, Juho was standing right behind him. As he was about to walk toward the cashier, his eyes met Juho's. "Ah! Didn't expect to see you here." Juho greeted him. The man's thick eyebrows furrowed. "Are you here to buy the book too?" he asked. Juho shook his head as he showed him his empty hands. "I'm just stopping by. Seems like you've already found what you were looking for?" "Yep. 'The Sound of Wailing.' It's Yun Woo's next book. I have to get one." "I don't think you necessarily "have to."" "It'll help me catch up to him sooner." Juho had forgotten about that. Sung Pil had a strong sense of rivalry toward Yun Woo. "You've already bought a copy, right?" he asked with a serious expression. Juho answered after a brief time thinking, "No, not quiet." 'I didn't buy it, but I did get a copy from the publishing company,' he said to himself internally. Sung Pil's thick eyebrows twitched once again. "So, are you here to buy one?" "Didn't I say that I was just stopping by?" "Well, you should read it. You write too." "Eh, it's fine. There are plenty of authors who are better than Yun Woo." "Then, I'll lend you mine after I read it. How does that sound?" Something didn't quite add up, which was a frequent occurrence in their conversations. "You won't regret it," Sung Pil finished. He must have missed the phrase written on the binding in thick letters, 'Are you prepared for regrets?' With a chuckle, Juho asked Sung Pil, "You don't have to. Why don't we go grab a bite to eat?" He nodded while maintaining his serious expressions. "Sounds good. I was starting to get hungry." "I'll be outside. You take your time," said Juho as he made his way out through the crowd while Sung Pil got in line. After walking into a snack shop nearby, the two sat themselves at a table. With two cups of water in his hands, Sung Pil asked, "Would you mind if I start reading the book now?" He was referring to 'The Sound of Wailing.' After a brief thought, Juho shook his head. "What am I supposed to do?" With a disappointed look, Sung Pil set his book aside. Looking at the disappointment on his face, Juho felt the urge to give in, but wasn't used to someone reading his book before his eyes. He poured the ice cold water into his mouth while trying to avoid making eye contact with Sung Pil as much as possible. As he put down his cup, the book somehow made its way into Sung Pil's hands. "Why did you ask if you're going to read anyway?" "Oh! I thought I should take a look while you were drinking your water." Juho chuckled at the sight of him closing the book and waved his hands in the air, saying, "You know what? Just read it." "Don't mind if I do," he answered as he opened the book in a hurry and brought it close to his face. Sung Pil was reading Juho's book. After staring in his direction for some time, Juho turned his attention to the television. Unfortunately, it was only showing advertisements. The page turned. 'He's a fast reader,' Juho thought as he waited for the food. When he looked out of the window, he saw that there was a crowd of people going busily about their way. The new book had been released onto the world. Some bought the book while others read it. 'How long has it been since I felt this way?' he thought as he felt touched and hungry at the same time. 'Caw!' a black bird cried. He turned his eyes toward the sound. The bird sat precariously on a tree branch. At that, Juho thought of the bird in his book. There was a scene where the mother confesses to her son her experience of killing a bird. She tells her son that the bird had eventually come back to life. She tells that him the bird was now flying across the world with its wings spread out. In an ambiguous state, the son keeps the story to his heart, neither believing or disbelieving. Only he could know how a son who had witnessed the downfall of his own mother would turn out to be. Juho looked up at the branch. There was no bird. There was nothing but the sound of Sung Pil turning the pages of his book. Soon, the owner of the place brought the tteokbokki and soondae they had ordered. While taking out a pair of chopsticks, he called out for Sung Pil. He didn't respond. His eyebrows were furrowed even more. Juho picked up a piece of tteokbokki and brought it to his mouth. The spice was just right. "This is good." His words lingered in the air, but Sung Pil paid no attention. Juho moved his hand toward the plate of soondae. "The soondae's good too." He still didn't respond. Juho stared at him intently as he chewed. Sung Pil was fully immersed in Juho's book. He looked rather serious. Juho became curious as to which part he was reading. 'He's probably in the beginning still,' he thought. However, the downfall of the characters begun with the very first sentence of the book. It made sense for Sung Pil to be wearing such a serious expression. Even as Juho brought another piece of tteokbokki and soondae to his mouth, Sung Pil didn't take his eyes off of the book. 'I'm going to end up eating the whole thing at this rate,' thought Juho as he lightly kicked Sung Pil's foot. Sung Pil looked down sluggishly. "What's the matter?" "Somebody kicked me." "I did." "Huh?" Sung Pil answered as he finally looked up from his book. Juho added with another piece of tteokbokki in his mouth, "Food came out." "... Huh," he said as he looked at the food on the table. "Your concentration is impressive," Juho said as he ate. With that, Sung Pil shook his head as his thick eyebrows twitched. "No matter how good of a book I'm reading, I usually don't forget to eat. Normally, I'd have known right away." "Not this time. Your concentration must've improved." "No, it means that this book is that impressive." Juho blinked quietly. "It really sucks you in. You can't afford to look away for one second," said Sung Pil as he stroked the book. He seemed rather moved by it. "Yun Woo really is incredible." Without words, Juho brought two more pieces of soondae to his mouth. "If you're not going to eat, I'm going to finish this." Seeing how the amount of food had grown smaller, Sung Pill finally picked up his chopsticks. "It was somewhat unexpected though," Sung Pil said as he chewed his food. "What was?" "Yun Woo," he said with his eyes fixated on the book. "I didn't know he'd write something like this for his next book." "Why is that?" "It feels really different." Juho asked feeling a prick in the heart, "... How are they different?"

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80 Chapter 80 - Did You Read the Book?

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "I can't put my finger on it, but that's what it feels like," Sung Pil said with a serious look on his face as he brought a piece of soondae to his mouth. "It feels more real." "Did 'The Trace of a Bird' feel like it was made up?" Sung Pil shook his head slowly. "It's just different," he answered, then went on to share his honest opinion. "It's provocative from the start. A twisted character tends to feel distant, but not in this book. It almost feels like the author based the character on his observation, probably because of the details in the description. To me, it feels like Yun Woo's evolved even further in his distinctive style." "Is that right?" "Yeah, you'll see what I mean. I mean, how can one write like this? Do you think it's possible that there is an actual person the author used as reference?" "Perhaps," Juho answered. He was keeping his answers short. "Because of all the details, it makes it really easy to picture what I'm reading. It's immersive. In other words, it's easy to read. Considering how dark and heavy the subject is, it's very impressive." Sung Pil added with his eyes sparkling, "It hasn't even been a year since his debut title…" Juho quietly looked away. "Yun Woo is incredible." 'This is uncomfortable,' Juho thought as he scratched his nose. "You think so? I'm not too sure." "That's because you haven't read his books. Tell you what, I'll lend you the book after I finish reading this by the end of today." 'No need,' muttered Juho internally. He knew that Sung Pil wouldn't back down even if he had said those words out loud. If anything, it would have prolonged the situation. "I want to be a novelist too…" Sung Pil said quietly. Juho changed the subject nonchalantly, "You're planning on it." Sung Pil's dream was to be an author. In the near future, that dream would come true. In the past, Juho had witnessed his long-running career as an author. "That's right," said Sung Pil with a nod. He wasn't the type to be ashamed of his goals. "I like the food here," he said. "Ditto," Juho agreed as he smiled faintly. After eating quietly for some time, he picked up his cup. From its weight, he realized that there was no more water in it. "Summer break is almost over," he said as he looked into the empty cup intently. With that, Sung Pil stopped eating for a brief moment. "Sad." It wasn't like him to say such a thing, so Juho added playfully, "Don't you wish the summer break would last for the rest of your life?" "Maybe another month," he gave an answer that was more realistic. "What would you do with the time?" "I'd probably read 'The Sound of Wailing' in peace," Sung Pil said with his eyes on the book. "For an entire month though?" "I think I'm going to be writing by the time I finish reading this book," he said after a brief time thinking. "What are you going to be writing?" "I don't know, but I have a feeling." Juho, too, had that feeling from Sung Pil's calm tone of voice. Something was telling him that what Sung Pil had said would be coming true. He had a feeling that that very piece would lead Sung Pil to his goal. "I think you're right." "Huh?" "I think you'll be writing too." There wasn't a rule that said that an author had to write their debut work on the year they debuted. Perhaps Sung Pil was getting off to an early start, taking his time to polish his craft and debut as an author. "Can you show me what you write later?" "I might not end up writing, you know." "IF you do." Sung Pil nodded willingly. Juho had already started to look forward to his writing. "What if you really end up becoming an author?" Juho asked jokingly. "That'd be nice." "You never know. They say 'be careful with what you wish for,'" he said with a shrug. "If I actually become an author, do you think the day will come for me to meet Yun Woo?" Sung Pil asked. "... I'm sure it will." Though Juho had been calling him Sung Pil, his real name was Pil Sung. The day would come when they would meet not as Juho and Pil Sung, but as Yun Woo and Sung Pil. He would make his debut, and Juho would continue writing. "I don't think we've had enough," said Pil Sung as he ate the last piece of tteokbokki. The two ended up ordering another plate of tteokbokki and fritters. --- After changing into his uniform, Juho left for school. Once he climbed the hill and came back down, the school became visible. The closer he got to the school, the more students in uniform there were. "Hey, Juho!" a familiar voice called out. It was Bom. "How was your summer break?" "Good, how about yours?" "Mine too, although I spent more days at school than I did at home." The two walked alongside one another. Despite the silence, neither of them felt uncomfortable. Seeing the well-acquainted sight of the school building, Juho walked toward it. "Did you read the book?" "What book?" "'The Sound of Wailing.'" 'Caw!' a crow sounded at just the right time. "Well… It seems like you definitely have," Juho answered ambiguously. "Of course! It's Yun Woo." She, too, was a fan of Yun Woo after all. Juho remembered seeing her in the crowd when the impostor had been giving out her signature. Though she might not be as apparent as Seo Kwang or Baron, she was definitely a fan. Just as any avid fan would, she poured out her praises. "I knew Yun Woo wouldn't disappoint. It's hard to believe that he's my age. It baffles me how he's able to write like that. He's respectable even." "That good, huh?" "Yeah! It was incredible! I got so angry, but kind of sad on the other hand. I kind of felt that from 'The Trace of a Bird,' but I think Yun Woo excels at writing sad stories - a story that makes the reader sad rather than a sad story itself." "I see." Unlike her usual self, Bom was filled with excitement, and Juho listened to her quietly. "Hey, guys!" "It's Sun Hwa!" Sun Hwa approached them from afar, waving her hands. Bom happily waved back as Juho also waved his hands lightly. "Bom, did you read that book?" she asked. "What book?" "The comic book I recommended to you! Living Legend just came out with a new comic! Oh my g… I'm so happy!" It was a common conversation between the two. Usually, they would have gone on for a while, but that day, that conversation came to a sudden end. "Sorry, I've been busy reading another book." "Eh?! What the? I was so excited to talk about this!" "Haha! Yun Woo came out with a new book too. Have you read it?" "Oh, Yun Woo," said Sun Hwa as she scratched her head. "I bought one seeing how crazy people were getting, but I haven't gotten around to it yet because of the new comic book. Living Legend cannot be beaten, even by Yun Woo," she said with a serious tone. Juho smiled awkwardly, being set aside by Living Legend. "Yun Woo would be upset." "Too bad. There's no way around it. I may be part of the Literature Club, but I prefer comic books." "Then, go join the Comic Book Club," interfered yet another familiar voice. "Hey, Seo Kwang!" Bom called out. Before he even had time to greet Juho, Sun Hwa said annoyed, "You're bringing this up now? After I've been part of this club for so long?" "That's why this is a bigger issue. You've been part of the Literature Club for a while now, yet you still prefer comic books over real books." "Pff. We have an artist in the club. I don't see anything wrong." "Guys, the teachers are looking in our direction." Teachers monitoring the dress code looked in the direction of the commotion. Despite Bom's desperate effort to break them up, Seo Kwang and Sun Hwa glared at each other like they were about to eat each other alive. Some things simply didn't change, including Bom. "Were you looking for me?" "Hey, Baron!" "Hey." With his hands in the pocket, the sole artist of the club, Baron, was walking toward the rest of the club members. His large frame made him stick out like a sore thumb. As the club members all came together, they chatted cheerfully among themselves as they climbed the stairs. Everyone seemed to be well. When they reached the first years' floor, they ran into Mr. Moon coming out of the staffroom, looking exhausted. "I was just wondering about the noise. It's you guys." "Hello, Mr. Moon!" Sun Hwa greeted him cheerfully, and he sighed heavily. "The break is over. Aren't you sad?" Typical Mr. Moon. The exhaustion in his face made his words all the more genuine. Juho couldn't help but chuckle, and the others laughed joyfully as well. "It's OK, Mr. Moon. You still have the Literature Club, the joy of coming to school." "Right. I'll see you all later." "Yes, Mr. Moon." With that, everyone went their separate ways. Baron climbed up to the floor above while Sun Hwa and Bom made for their class together. Juho and Seo Kwang did the same. Before Juho even had a chance to put down his backpack, Seo Kwang asked him suddenly, "Hey, did you read that book?" "Haha!" It was a question he had been hearing often as of late. Seeing his hearty laughter, Seo Kwang happily added. "I knew it! 'The Sound of Wailing!' I was seriously moved. By the time I came to my senses, I'd already bought two more copies from the internet. Yun Woo's incredible, that one." With excitement, he poured out praises for Yun Woo, one after another. He went to great lengths on Yun Woo's talent, as well as the book's literary value, plot, and overall tone. While resting his chin on his hand, Juho quietly listened to his friend, nodding from time to time. "The bird left me a strong impression this time also," said Seo Kwang suddenly with a serious look. "The bird, huh." "Yeah, the bird was an object of fear in 'The Trace of a Bird,' but this time around, it was much more profound. A bird that came back from the dead." "Hmm." "I thought it had something to do with motherly love in the beginning. I thought the bird was symbolizing that motherly love never dies, but on the other hand, I thought it might be a way to escape reality." It was quite an interesting interpretation. "Escape reality? How?" "The mother doesn't hold back on her habit of smoking and drinking even though she's pregnant. She knows that it's not good for the baby. She probably didn't want to think about regretting it in the future. My guess is that she put the baby in the position of the bird she had killed in the past, thinking that the baby would come back like the bird did," explained Seo Kwang. It was rather plausible. "That's a good interpretation," said Juho as he nodded. "The author never talked about the bird till the very end, which means he left it up to the readers to interpret it. I love that Yun Woo thinks as far as bringing joy to his readers. He's an amazing author." In the end, he concluded with more praise and after that, Juho felt the urge to be playful. "Do you really think Yun Woo included the bird in his novel as a calculated decision?" "Eh? What are you saying? Are you saying that it's a coincidence? Like his name?" he asked with a scowl. (TL's Note: Again, last names come before first names in Korea. So "Yun Woo" would be "Woo Yun," which sounds like the Korean word for coincidence.) "I was just wondering if people are overestimating him in some way. Some people are saying that it's all pretty dressing too," Juho answered with a shrug.

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81 Chapter 81 - I’ve Read I

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl After thinking about Juho's cold-hearted remarks, Seo Kwang asked, "You haven't read it yet, haven't you?" "Eh?" "You wouldn't be able to say things like that if you had." Seo Kwang added as Juho blinked awkwardly, "Well, he became successful at an early age, so his age definitely works to his advantage when it comes to drawing attention, but it doesn't mean that the quality of his work has suffered. He left a remarkable achievement and he didn't stop at 'The Trace of a Bird.'" With that, he took out the book he had brought. Gray background. An empty chair. And a bird. It gave off a rather lonely impression. "I wouldn't have been able to even imagine something like this. 'The Sound of Wailing.' He's lived for seventeen years, but he knows how to vividly describe a pregnant mother. I can make things sound pretty too. That's easy. Heck, I can even criticize someone, but I wouldn't know what to do with a character like her. On one hand, she's like a young girl. On the other, she's incredibly cruel. By the time I think of her as someone who is worn out beyond recovery, she proves herself to be a strong individual. Even as I think of her as the worst human being on the planet, I find myself feeling sorry for her." The nameless mother had taken shape within Seo Kwang's mind. "I can't. Maybe in thirty years, but I can't write anything like that." With that, he forcefully put the book in Juho's hands. Juho accepted it quietly as he felt the weight of the book that he was well-accustomed to. "So read it. You won't regret it," said Seo Kwang as he took out his phone. After tapping on it busily, he shoved it at Juho's face. Juho couldn't see anything. The phone was simply too close. As leaned back, he saw that Seo Kwang had logged into an online bookstore. He had VIP access. "Are you showing off?" "Not that, underneath it." Below his VIP rank, there was a rank for the bestselling books. At the top, 'The Sound of Wailing' ranked number one. "Number one, 'The Sound of Wailing.' I think I've said enough." "Impressive," said Juho half-heartedly. Taking offense to his lukewarm response, Seo Kwang said, "So, you try harder. The way I see it, you have what it takes to be like Yun Woo." 'Duh, I am Yun Woo,' he thought. Then, he answered light-heartedly, "That's flattering." "You don't believe me? You know how much I read! I swear, your compositions are good too!" "Yeah?" "When you become an author, you show Yun Woo how it's done. While you're at it, get his autograph for me too." He was asking for a lot. "You're asking a lot." "You know, you tend to underestimate yourself. The Juho Woo I know is a man who can take hold of both victory and peace at the same time." "Yeah, yeah," said Juho as he looked around. It was the beginning of the semester, so it was louder than usual. The class smelled somewhat of dust while the desks weren't lined up. It felt like a messy room that hadn't been cleaned up. Amid the crooked desks, there were books. 'The Sound of Wailing,' Yun Woo's new book. 'I wonder what these kids were thinking when they bought the book,' thought Juho as he imagined them at the bookstore. The books were being displayed at the most visible spot in the bookstore. It was among the first things people saw as they walked in. They walked toward it subconsciously, examining and evaluating the book, thinking: 'It can't hurt to read every now and then. Everyone seems to be talking about it, so I should at least have a look. Besides, it's been a while since I've read.' It could also have been possible that they knew the name Yun Woo, the young, genius author. 'I wonder what's making people call him a genius. It's important to keep up with the trends.' They may have picked up a copy, drawn by its author's name, especially with students his age. A genius author as their peer. Some may have wanted to see what the fuss was about, looking to criticize it. A person had the freedom to choose regardless of the motive with which they picked the book. Juho thought of the people who he had seen at the bookstore buying his book. They too, had their respective views toward the book. At that moment, he heard the students talking. "A novel? What's gotten into you?" "This book's really good, you should read it." "What is it?" "'The Sound of Wailing.'" "Oh, yeah! By Yun Woo?" "Yeah." "I did hear about it. I don't understand why it's so popular though." "That's because you haven't read it yourself." "Eh, I don't do books. Besides, a book is just a pot stand." "You're such a simpleton." "What'd you call me punk?" A class rowdier than usual. Excitement in the air. Crooked desks. Feeling somewhat dizzy, Juho looked away. The window was closed. As he reached for it, a bird met his eyes. It had black feathers. --- "Thanks for cooking, mom," Juho said as he brought a piece of grilled mackerel up to his mouth. Its butteriness was quite pleasant. "This is great!" "Eat more. There's plenty," said his mother as she picked up a TV remote. After flickering through several channels, the screen stopped at a certain channel. "I like this show." "What is it?" "They do book reviews. It made me think of you. Watch." Juho turned his eyes to the TV screen. "The Great Book Club." He had been fond of its title. The hosts were in the middle of an introduction. The show had just started. Like his mother had said, it was a show where a book was critiqued by six cast members. The cast was composed of one celebrity, three hosts, one book critic and a poet. As Juho watched, he saw a face that he was well-acquainted with. It was Pyung Jin Lee, the book critic. Though Juho never met him or heard his voice, he knew of Pyung Jin by his harsh, edgy critique of Juho's second book in the past. It had been rather sharp. Feeling the old memories welling up, Juho focused his attention on the show. "So, I've heard that the book we discussed last week is selling at a tremendous rate. Is that right?" "It made the bestseller, again!" "And all thanks to our lovely viewers!" The two female celebrities exchanged cheerful words. As the cast members applauded, there were messages of gratitude in the announcement bar. "Mr. Lee, what were you up to after filming last week?" a male celebrity sitting in the middle asked. The camera focused on Pyung Jin. His green tie stood out quite a bit. 'I wonder if he's wearing that tie because he's on TV,' thought Juho as he ate. "Why, I read Yun Woo's new book." Juho almost spit out the food in his mouth. Pyung Jin had called out his name out of nowhere. "Hey! That's you!" his mother exclaimed. "Yep, that's my name." "My goodness! My son's on TV!" Though they had just called out his name, Juho wanted to let his mother enjoy the moment, so he smiled quietly. At the mention of his name, every cast member took a turn to chime in. "Ah, Yun Woo!" "I've read it too!" "He recently came out with a new book. It's been hot!" The celebrity sitting in the middle added, "Who here has read his book?" "I have." "Me too!" With the exception of one person, everyone had raised their hands. "Hey, come on now. We're in the 'Great Book Club!' How is it that we have a person who hasn't read Yun Woo's book yet?" He said playfully, bringing the crowd to laughter. After things calmed down, the man asked Pyung Jin once again, "So, how was the book written by the hottest figure in the publishing industry at the moment?" Everyone else looked in his direction, waiting for his response. He was a professional critic, so they were probably looking forward to hearing what he had to say. "First off, I was rather surprised." "Surprised? In what sense?" "That Yun Woo wrote a story like that," he continued explaining. With his somewhat ridiculous tie, he spoke in an intelligent manner. "He showcased his potentials through 'The Trace of a Bird,' but that doesn't mean that the content wasn't appropriate for his age. It was both beautiful and pure." "That's absolutely right. You'd know what I'm talking about if you've read Yun Woo'd books, but it leaves a clean after taste." "Yet, its successor was quite different, especially when it came to describing the death of the protagonist. I was shocked by how explicit it was. Now, the thing to be mindful here is the sentence structure. Unlike the rest of the book, that scene wasn't dressed in any way. Rather, it was distorted deliberately." "Ohhh." "I was quite impressed. I wasn't aware that Yun Woo would have such a side. I'd heard he was turning seventeen this year, but he didn't seemed to hold back when it came to creating this character. Same goes for the son. Most of all, his style was quite stable." "Boy, it's not everyday Mr. Lee compliments an author like that!" "Yeah, he tends to be stingy with compliments. Aside from Hyun Do Lim, I think it's my first time hearing compliments from him." Amid the astonishment, he went on to wrap up his opinion, "My opinion is that through this book, Yun Woo has proven himself as an author you can trust. I'm already looking forward to his third book." "We should have a special Yun Woo episode!" a cast member said, having been quiet up to that point. 'Yun Woo Special.' With that, the male host continued, smiling, "Is he showing his face for the first time in our show?" "That's exciting! Can we make it happen?" The host exchanged words with the producer. His tone was filled with joy. At that moment, the announcement bar said, 'Mr. Woo, if you're watching, please contact us!' "Oh my! Are they going to ask you to be on the show?" "Should I?" "Take me with you. I should put my face pack on before I go to bed tonight." As they joked around, the show entered into its main portion. They introduced different books on travelling. As Juho watched while eating, he came to learn that it was a decent show. They had in-depth discussions on books, reciting parts that stood out and analyzing characters of the books or talking about the authors. There were jokes in between to keep things from being overly rigid. As he kept watching, he felt like he was starting to remember having watched it in the past. "Thanks for dinner," he said as he picked up after himself. Pyung Jin had praised his book. The kids he had met earlier that day had had a positive response as well. Entering his room, he turned on his computer to look at reviews for 'The Sound of Wailing.' Upon visiting a website, he found countless comments and posts on the book. Because of its book critiquing nature, the length spanned anywhere from a few lines up to several thousand words. He clicked the post that was at the top. "A book that will bring you regrets, yet make you want to share it with those around you. This is how I'd describe Yun Woo's new book." After that, he moved onto the next post.

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82 Chapter 82 - A Black Beak 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "He's a genius. What was I doing when I was seventeen?" "I love Yun Woo. He's a genius. By the way, I LOVE him. I love you, Yun Woo. Please, accept me." "I'm so thankful that I got to share a lifetime with Yun Woo. Keep it up! Can't wait for your next book!" "I'd been hearing the name 'Yun Woo' left and right, so I ended up buying his book just to keep everyone quiet. Now, I'm even reading 'The Trace of a Bird.' He's the very first author I've come to like." "After reading his book, I became bedridden for an entire week. My body seemed to be fine, but my heart was in pieces. It almost felt like going through a breakup. The regret and sadness of the one who is left behind was much more than what I could handle. I'm afraid to read it again, but on the other hand, I'd highly recommend it." "I read this book for the first time at a cafe. Then, I regretted my decision. Before I even had time to think about what I was reading, tears began to fall from my eyes. Fortunately, nobody noticed me, but it was rather embarrassing. Still, I couldn't help myself. Though my life looked nothing like that of the mother's, its potency came at me like a third-degree burn. I found myself involuntarily reaching for water." "It's a fun read, but you'd be wrong to assume that the book is merely fun. 'The Sound of Wailing' is heavy, yet fast-paced. Once I read the book, I realized that I'd been misunderstanding Yun Woo all along. Because he had an image of being pure, I had been assuming that he'd be frail and weak. I thought that he'd run for his life when taking a powerful collision. In my mind, he was a person of noble character who despised things that were dirty and gruesome. However, I couldn't have been more wrong. This book is entangled and cruel to the point of causing concern to its readers about his well-being. It's explicit. It almost felt like showed everything he has within the confines of two full-length novels. However, I believe that he'll return with his third book, proving me wrong once again." Juho read through the reviews and comments of the readers that filled his screen. They were overwhelmingly flattering. Some were treading into the territory that made him feel uncomfortable. Every person had a different ID, font, and tone, just as they each led their own lives. He went to the next page. Of course, as different as those people were, some didn't view his book in such a positive light. "Everything's fine except for the ending. Why did she have to die? It's as awkward as a kid pretending to be an adult. It felt pretentious the entire time I was reading." It had been a while since Juho had read a negative review. He read carefully through it again to see if there was anything he could learn from it. Pretending to be an adult, pretentious. Rather than a detailed explanation, the person seemed to have stayed true to his emotions. He sounded rather angry. Feeling sad that he couldn't do anything to alleviate his anger, Juho moved on to the next post without hesitation. "It makes no sense that a kid would write a novel like this. People blabber about him being a genius, but I don't believe any of it. Somebody has to be behind this young author. The fact that he's anonymous is proof. Just like Yun from 'The Trace of a Bird,' he's timid because he feels guilty of something." More so than a review, it sounded like a conspiracy theory. They seemed to be entertaining a dangerous idea - a ghostwriter. Juho turned his chair around with a chuckle. The walls and stacks of manuscript paper came into view. Behind him, there was nothing but rough ideas written out. If somebody really had ghosted for him, he wouldn't have had to go through all the trouble he had. The light from the screen shone onto a small part of a wall. Though it wasn't the entire wall, Juho couldn't help his eyes from being drawn to it. From then on, there were confessions from infatuated fans, opinions on his style, and an in-depth analysis on what made him a genius. He took the time to read them one by one. "I like that there are so many different opinions. People are interesting," he murmured as he leaned back on his chair. Some liked his work whereas some didn't. Some rooted for him while some were jealous of him. Thanks to the variety of opinions, reading through the thoughts of his readers wasn't boring. Only, his eyes began to hurt from looking at the screen for a long time. He looked away and looked up at the ceiling, where he saw an afterimage of the screen. 'Caw!' a cry of a bird sounded out. Following the sound, Juho slowly lowered his head. Black feathers. Black beak. It was a crow. "You," he called for the crow. "I've noticed that you've been following me around for some time. You're kind of noisy." Its eyes glistened in the dark as its large, menacing beak parted open. 'Caw!' Then, words came out it, "Sounds like you want it louder. CAW! CAW!" "You have a childish side," said Juho as he laughed. "Hmph, there's no use in trying to keep calm. You're no different from me," the bird said, scoffing. "Is that so?" Annoyed, the crow approached Juho while spreading its wings. "You're an idiot. I know you don't see anything behind me, and it's obvious that you haven't even read what you've written. You're just venting. I can tell. Stupid brat!" it said angrily. "That's harsh." "Shut up, shut up!" Juho looked at the book underneath the birds' claws. A bird on a gray background. 'Could it be the same bird?' "Where are you from?" he asked. "Shut your mouth. I'm not in a good mood. I'll peck," said the bird as it glared at him fiercely. "That's not nice. Look how sharp your beak is." 'CAW! CAW!' it cried loudly as if it didn't want to listen to Juho anymore. "If you had written it better, you wouldn't have had to find out what those stupid people had to say. You're an idiot," said the bird, spiteful. "Hehe. It's a little late for that, don't you think?" Juho answered with a smile. "I'm being serious. Don't you dare try to smile your way out of this. Why did you kill her? You could have let her live happily." "You know why." "No, I don't. I can't stand it. Pretentious? What does that punk know? Nobody's pretending to be an adult, because you ARE ONE! PIECE OF TRASH!" "Stop it. The readers have the freedom to feel. There's nothing to gain from venting." "Shut it. You piss me off the most. Don't you just sit there smiling like an imbecile. Write a comment. 'Why don't you grow up?!'" "Hate to break it to you, but can't do." "Damn it, DAMN IT! CAW!" It flapped its wings, infuriated. Its feathers fell around it. With cold, motionless eyes, Juho captured that sight. "Why don't we talk about real you?" Juho said. The bird looked in his direction with its dark, glistening eyes that looked like they would engulf every bit of light. "I'm a crow." "Obvious." "What else is there to know?" "I'm sure there are a few things," said Juho. He asked after a brief time thought, "So, what do you signify?" "It depends." "Are leaving room for my interpretation?" "I couldn't care less about your interpretation. I'm just telling the truth." 'That's one salty bird,' thought Juho. "Alright, fine. What's your name?" "What do you think I am, a person? How would I know?" The bird asked as it opened its beak, sneering. "Then?" "You're the only one who can see me." Juho said after thinking for a brief moment, "Crow." "What?" "I'm not going to give you a name." "Why?" The bird asked as it flapped its wings. "Frankly, I don't really want to see you around. If I give you a name, I might get attached to you," said Juho in a friendly manner, smiling. Without saying anything, the crow stared at him intently for some time while Juho stared back finally. "Finally! We're starting to agree on something," it said as it hopped down onto the bed from the desk. The blanket tousled underneath the birds' claws. Juho didn't stop the bird as it walked toward the bookshelf and took out a book with it sharp beak. 'Impressive,' Juho thought. As the crow tossed the book onto the floor, it cracked open, revealing its white pages and letters written in black ink. "What about it?" Juho asked. "Caw! I can't stand this book!" The crow said as it flapped its wings about, puffing its chest angrily. One of the pages flapped about. "You know that I wrote it, right?" The book on the floor was no other than 'The Trace of a Bird,' his maiden work. "I know." "That's right." This hoodlum of a bird had something to complain about. Recognizing the bright light coming from the monitor, Juho asked the crow, "What don't you like about it?" "Everything!" A straightforward answer. It might be short, but there were feelings in those word. Juho understood immediately that the crow was not very fond of him. "Do you know how to read?" "I'm a crow, nitwit," said the crow as it pretended to retch. "Do YOU even know how to read? I almost thought you couldn't hear my insults because you were just sitting there, smiling like an imbecile." "If I can't read, then I can't write." "You write crap because you can't read." The crow didn't back down. "Unfortunately, lot of people have already read this crap you're referring to. I can't take it back," said Juho, snickering. With Juho's response, the crow folded its wings and picked up the book with its beak. "Disastrous." "Oh, but there's more. A lot of people have been reading my next book." The crow covered its face with its wings, collapsing. Though it had been speaking like a human up to that point, Juho couldn't help but think that it also moved like a human. Its feathers were intimidatingly dark. "Embarrassing! EMBARRASSING!" "What is?" "I can't stand that people are reading this crap! I can't stand it!" "It's ok," said Juho, comforting the crow. "Forget it." "Do you not like to write?" "Look at how atrocious it came out!" Still, it hadn't been a no. "The reviews aren't as bad. Want to take a look?" The crow didn't move from his place. A black feather fell from its body. 'Where did I see that?' Juho tried to retrace his memory, but couldn't remember. "You could've done better," said the crow. "You could've ended it better. Caw, caw,' it added, crying sadly. "You could've gotten better reviews." "Haha. Are that you upset?" After staying silent for a while, the crow changed the subject. "I'm not good enough," said the crow, weakly. "Well, nobody's perfect." "I want what I write to be perfect." "That's ambitious." "I want to be the great storyteller." The great storyteller. Juho stared at the crow quietly.

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83 Chapter 83 - A Black Beak 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Before Juho knew, the crow was standing on the desk. Though it had been sad up to a moment ago, it stood confidently. "I can do it." "Not like this." "There's still time." "Time has nothing to do with it." "I said I can do it." "Caw! Caw!" It was impossible to communicate with it. At the sound of its stubborn cawing, Juho couldn't do anything other than laugh. "Don't. Laugh." "Haha!" The crow scratched its claws on the surface of the book underneath them, leaving long, thin claw marks on the gray cover. "Hey, you can't do that. You don't even have money." Ignoring Juho, the crow shredded away at the book. The sound of ripping pages filled the room. It was somewhat horrifying, yet, Juho didn't do anything to stop it. The crow kept ripping the book apart angrily until there was nothing left. As it shook its body, another feather fell from it. "What is it that you want to accomplish?" Juho asked. The crow didn't give him an answer. Instead, it gave a seemingly irrelevant response, "You want to be recognized." "For what?" "The way you wrote it, according to your intention. You want people to accept your thoughts as they are." "Do I?" "The readers interpret things however they want. They won't try to understand you." "That's natural." "You're a know-it-all. It's annoying." "I'm happy." "That's a lie." "You don't believe me?" asked Juho, smiling. "A book exists to be read. A book isn't just made of paper and letters. Without the readers, my story can never be completed. I'm so grateful for them and the fact that my writing becomes a turning point for some while it becomes entertainment for others. That's the joy of being an author. That's the happiness that can only be earned by authors. Can you hate happiness?" The crow looked at Juho with its dark eyes. "Lies!" Though it didn't believe him until the end, Juho understood the crow. He had been the same way in the past. The mistrust went both ways. "I can't stand it. People who blabber their thoughts like it's their birthright, people who doubt me, people who criticize me, people who think they know me, who judge me, tell me I'm wrong, I hate them all. I hate that these people are waiting for the next book in such a light-hearted manner. Nobody thinks of me. Nobody will know how much blood, sweat and tears went into this book, and the suffering I had to go through in the future. They only see results. They only see a small part," the crow said with a slightly cracking voice. "Caw!" it cried piercingly. "I write because I love it." "As long as you show it to others, you can't be free of their opinions." "A book is freedom." "The weak can't endure that freedom." "I'm not weak." "Humans are weak. All of them." "Are all crows strong?" "I am." The confrontation was getting drawn out. Juho started breaking out into cold sweats and was feeling dizzy. He couldn't tell who was saying what anymore. The monitor kept blasting out light. Within it, the crow maintained its menacing color. It was bottomlessly dark. 'What would happen if I were to touch it? What would happen to my hand?' he thought. "Everyone. Has. To. Praise. Me." The crow parted its black beak. 'That's not what I want. I won't let it get to me. I won't let it hold me back,' thought Juho, laughing at the crow's foolish hope. "I want to write freely." The room grew silent. Juho stood up slowly and opened the window. There was no breeze coming in. Nothing came in, and nothing went out. Air, his breath, it was all in its place. Juho and the crow were the only moving things. "Between you and me, this will go on for a while." The moment his eyes met with the crow's, Juho realized that there was no escaping it since he had recognized its existence. He put his hands on his forehead. Arguing with that nameless bird was rather demanding. Both parties were fighting desperately, and Juho started to feel confused. 'Wait, who would be the winner? The one who gives in first, or the last standing? What would happen the moment that bird wins?' "We're way too different," said the crow with a caw. The two very different beings were conversing within the same space. "Yes, too different," Juho said, smiling at the crow. The crow hated Juho's smiles and laughter. Infuriated, the crow spread its wings, blowing off the shredded bits of the book. There was a gust of wind, strong enough to make Juho stagger. Another breeze blew into the room through the window. 'It's moving,' thought Juho, closing his eyes. 'There's not going to be anything left after the wind. The crow, the debris, the book on the floor, nothing.' "Juho, have some fruit." Juho opened his eyes. He was sitting on his chair, and his mother was standing by the door. He stared at her in a daze. "Why's your room so dark? It's not good for the eyes. Don't be looking at the monitor for too long. Look away and stretch from time to time. Would you like me to bring you anything else?" "No, it's fine. I'll be out soon." With his answer, his mother walked away from the room, leaving the door open. Alone in the room, he looked around. There was no crow, and 'The Trace of a Bird' was still on the bookshelf. However, he felt something in his palm. He had probably been clenching his hand into a fist for some time. There were scratch marks and shredded bits of the book on his palm. He turned his eyes to the desk and saw that the corner of the book cover had been ripped out. A breeze blew into the room. That piece of the book fell onto the floor, but Juho didn't reach for it. --- "Yawn." Juho covered his mouth as it opened against his will. "Tired?" Bom asked as she looked at his direction. "A litte." "What the? I thought you were sleeping better. Did you stay up again?" Seo Kwang interfered, with 'The Sound of Wailing' in his hand. He must have been reading it over and over. "I did go to bed late." That night, he had to spend a significant amount of time writing. He wanted to organize the thoughts that had been clamoring in his head. The black ink had slowly filled the white page in the same color as the crow. "What did you do at night?" Sun Hwa asked. "I played with a crow," said Juho. "A crow?" She gave him a puzzled look and said, "OK, enough with the riddles." "Harsh." She paid him no attention. There was something that was of greater concern in her mind. "What do you think we're going to be doing today?" "Write," said Seo Kwang being a killjoy. "Duh. I mean, it's a new semester, so I'm wondering if we're going to be doing something special." "Special? How's that any different from what we've been doing?" The memories of their past training played through in Juho's mind. Things had been far from ordinary. Sun Hwa agreed, "I guess so. But I think it's more… unique, than special. I wonder if he'll keep the same format…" there was slight disappointment in her tone. "You never know," said Baron. Her eyes sparkled, and she asked, "What do you mean? Is there something you know?" "I'm not entirely sure, but it looked like Mr. Moon was preparing something." "What could that be?" "Who knows? When I saw him in the staffroom, he had this weird smile on his face, which it's odd because the Literature Club is the only place in the school where he smiles. It was true. The existence of the Literature Club had been sustaining him in his teaching career. "What do you think it is?" "Don't know." "I hope it's nothing weird. Wait, we're not running around the neighborhood this time, are we?" "In this weather? That's cruel." 'Drag.' With the sound of the door opening, Mr. Moon walked out of the science room. Before anybody had the time to ask, he said, "Let's write a novel. It's the beginning of a new semester. You've been working on your basic foundations for the last six months, so I'm confident that we can actually start writing. This will be fun." Sun Hwa raised her hand, confused, "A novel? Didn't we already do that?" In her bag was everything she had written thus far. "No, no, none of that short stuff. I'm talking about a single composition where you pour the rest of the year into." There was silence. A single composition written for six months. Mr. Moon was asking the club members to write an actual novel, unlike the shorter pieces in the past. Of course, Sun Hwa was the first one to exclaim with excitement, "Whoa!" "Really??" "A novel?" Seo Kwang and Bom said in order. Baron also looked surprised while Juho was caught off guard by the sudden news. 'A novel huh. Six months' worth of writing, at that.' "That sounds fun." He wouldn't have to worry about his workflow getting disrupted or struggle to work with keywords that were absurd and incoherent. He'd be able to write freely. It made sense that Mr. Moon had come out looking that excited. Looking around with a satisfied look on his face, Mr. Moon told Baron, "The cover will be designed by our very own artist." "A cover?" "That's right. You'll be drawing the face of whatever these adorable freshmen write." "I have no experience with book covers…" "None of these guys have experience writing a novel either." The rest of the club members shouted excitedly, "Yes Baron! It's our first time too! Please make mine as nice as possible!" They were asking for cover designs before they had even started writing. Mr. Moon added as he calmed everyone down, "Now, before we start writing our very own novel, I'll teach you the proper posture for writing." "You can count on me, Mr. Moon." said Seo Kwang as he sat straight. "Not exactly wrong, but not exactly what I'm looking for either," said Mr.Moon. A posture for writing. Of course, it would be best to write with a proper posture as Seo Kwang had demonstrated, but Mr. Moon was talking about the emotional aspect of it. Juho listened to him quietly. "What do you guys think of your own writing?" "It's not good enough. It's embarrassing to read when I'm revising," said Bom. She felt that her sentences were awkward and loose. "All right. So, does that mean you guys won't be able to write any better unless you work on those awkward sentences?" Nobody answered. As much as they wanted to answer with a resounding "No!," the club members couldn't muster the confidence amid the reality of having to write a novel. They looked at each other, wondering if they had what it took. At that moment, Juho suddenly said, "Sure we can."

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84 Chapter 84 - Agrippa 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl 'Of course we can,' thought Juho. Mr. Moon looked straight into his eyes. "Juho Woo." "Yes," Juho answered. "What do you think makes for a good story?" It was a rather difficult question. What made for a good story? In the end, what the person believed would be the answer. Juho thought about the stories that moved him from deep within. 'Suspenseful stories, persistent spirits, skillful writings, characters with personality. Those novels might have left a deep impression, but could that be all? If an author had all of those characteristics, would they be able to write a good book?' Juho thought of the opposite case. 'There were times when I was touched by a story written in loose and awkward sentences. Those stories tended to be sincere.' He believed that those compositions had been just as good. The desires for perfection and sincerity had always coexisted. They were both right. So, in the end, Juho's answer was: "What I think is good." Mr. Moon nodded his head. "That's right. I'm sure everyone has their own answers. Perfect sentences, easy to read, tight storyline, they're all right answers. If you think a story is good, than it becomes a good story. Here's what I think. A good story is one that shakes its readers. No matter how polished it is, if it doesn't move me, I'll just stop reading," he said, looking at the club members. "If you have have differing opinions from mine, then all you have to do is go after what's "good" in your mind. I'm not trying to convert anybody here." Everyone listened quietly. "Everyone here is capable of writing a good book," said Mr. Moon. Having been listening quietly, Bom raised her hand and asked, "So, how do we write sincerely?" "That's your guys' job." "Huh?" "There's no equation to it. It's colorless and odorless. It has no shape, so you won't be able to touch it either. You can't just pull it out and show it. Find your own way." Sun Hwa's face twisted into a scowl. Looking in her direction, "If I were to give you a tip," he added as he spread his index finger, "try not to be greedy." It wasn't anything new. He had said the same in the past. Greed had been one of the biggest things to avoid in writing. Excitement, fear, desires, it all had to be left behind. Only then, writing something became possible. The fact that Mr. Moon had said the same thing several times proved its importance. "Greed leads to pretense. You won't find sincerity in a pretentious story. Avoid being greedy at all times. Understand where you're. You're still beginners. You're babies, incapable of feeding themselves." "Babies…" Bom echoed his analogy. Unfortunately, he was being accurate. After all, it would be their first time writing a novel. "A baby shouldn't be left in charge of grilling a steak when they can't even feed themselves. They'll just leave a mess, or worse, burn themselves. Experiencing pain before the joy of creation will instantly kill your drive." "But aren't we all animals born of greed? It's natural that we want to write well," complained Seo Kwang. Mr. Moon gave him an exaggerated nod. "That's right. Listen, you animals of greed. I'm not telling you to get rid of your greed. I'm not trying to make you all into deities. I'm simply asking you all to be discerning of when to be and when not to be greedy. As greedy as you are, you can also be just as rational. You have to know how to control your desires." "That's true…" she said timidly. "So… what if it comes out bad?" Fear. It was a natural emotion, especially for beginners. Mr. Moon said without hesitation, "None of you will be able to write well." Everyone's expressions grew darker, and Juho chuckled quietly, covering his mouth. "Egh…" "That's…" "That's hurtful Mr. Moon." "Yeah, that's harsh," added Juho. "You guys are unskilled and still learning. That's what it means to be a beginner. It's natural that you can't write well. So, prepare yourselves so that you don't fall into depression from reading your own writing," Mr. Moon explained. Beginners. That was what Mr. Moon had called the club members. Greedy, rational, and now, beginners. There was a variety of names. "There's an expiration date to the word 'beginner.' You're given little time to be confident of your lack of experience as beginners. You'll have to, at least, pretend to know how to write in front of the incoming freshmen, right?" Mr. Moon said as he placed his hand on top of the pile of papers. "So, while you can, write to your heart's content." Juho nodded quietly. A beginner had the right to be confident about their inexperience. After all, they were beginners for a reason. It would take time to learn. The club members were about to write their first novel. It was natural for them to be unskilled and inexperienced. Nobody in the room would criticize Mr. Moon for what he had said. Even the club members wouldn't do that to themselves. "Freshmen… That sounds like it's far into the future." "You'd be surprised," said Mr. Moon. He seemed to have understood Bom. The anxiety on her face slowly faded into a smile. "Enjoy it. Embrace being a beginner. It doesn't matter what anybody says. It's your story, so write it however the hell you want. Writing is freedom. Since there is no right answer, there is no wrong answer either. Write away." "Yes, Mr. Moon." "So, now that we're have a proper posture, let's learn to write, shall we?" he said to the excited club members. "But first, theories." "Can't we just get right to it?" "Can't wait for that steak, can we?" "Steaks are delicious!" "Know yourselves. You guys don't even have the teeth to chew it with. Now, focus." Despite Sun Hwa's grumbling, Mr. Moon picked up a piece of chalk. Though it was apparent that she had much to complain about, her eyes sparkled as soon as Mr. Moon started his lesson. She wasn't an exemplary student for no reason. Juho, too, took the time to brush up on the theories his body had learned up to that point. It was quite fun. Toward the end of the lesson, Mr. Moon brought something to the room that he had never before. "Creation means something new," he said. With his desk pushed against the wall, Juho quietly watched the club members standing in the middle of the room. Baron, too, was watching from his seat as usual, but his eyes were on neither Mr. Moon nor the club members, but on the floor. "But, creation comes from imitation," said Mr. Moon. New things tended to come from something that already existed. Juho looked at the object between himself and Mr. Moon. His eyes were fixated on it even as Mr. Moon kept talking. At that moment, Mr. Moon's voice sounded from above his head, "Today, we're going to spend some time developing our senses when creating. We'll learn the kinds of senses we're going to need when creating." "Why are these plaster figures here?" Juho asked as he raised his hand. There were four busts made of plaster that matched the number of the club members standing in the middle of the room. Juho looked in Baron's direction. They seemed like something that would suit an artist more. Mr. Moon smiled as if he had been expecting the question, "Four plaster figures. They all have the same face. I bought them myself." "That explains the size," muttered Seo Kwang. "Who dares to interrupt the teacher?" Juho had been thinking the same thing, but it was something to be grateful for, considering that Mr. Moon had spent his own money. "You will each take this Agrippa figure with you. Again, we're going to learn how to develop your senses for creating. Creation is new. New comes from what already exists. In order to capture that, there's a need to observe." Observe. Juho looked at the plaster figures before his eyes. There were four of the same. Every bust of Agrippa in the country would be wearing the same face. "Observe it until you get something unique of your own. Make your own 'Agrippa.'" "So, now would be the time to be greedy." Mr. Moon nodded with a satisfied smile. "But how do we observe?" Bom asked, raising her hand. "We've already gone over that." "Huh?" "Juho Woo," Mr. Moon called for him suddenly. "Yes." Instead of an answer, Mr. Moon nodded. Chuckling, Juho understood the meaning of that nod. "We listen, read, and think." It was one of the things Mr. Moon taught at the very beginning. 'Damoon-dadok-dasangryang.' It meant that that one had to listen a lot, read a lot, and think a lot in order to be a better writer. "That's right. You won't get much from just sitting there and looking around. Talk to it. Pull what's inside of it out. Try salting it or cooking it over fire. Then, whatever flavor you end up with, you'll see something that you haven't seen in that pale, lifeless figure." They had to make the plaster figure spill all its secrets. Whether it meant feeding it with sugar or salt, they had to make it happy or miserable. After asking it questions and sharing their stories with it, they would gain something they could write about. That was the essence of creation. "All right then. Everyone take a bust, and go." With those words, Mr. Moon left the room. Confusion fell over everyone's faces as they approached the figures. After examining one in her hands, Sun Hwa grumbled, frowning, "I don't get it." "He's telling us to 'create.'" "Without pen or paper?" "Your hands are probably better suited for it," said Juho. She turned her eyes in the figure's direction, finally realizing that it wasn't about writing. Mr. Moon was teaching them what had to happen before they started writing - their subjects, what they were going to write about. Juho picked up one of the Agrippa busts. It was quite hefty. He looked around it for characteristics. 'Hard. Plaster figure. Inanimate. Bust sculpture. Thick nose. Hollow eyes. Ivory skin. Commonly found in art studios. Always standing.' "Hm." He started to get a feel for it.

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85 Chapter 85 - Agrippa 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Having taken the figure to a corner, Juho plunked himself down on the floor. With his chin resting on his hand, he began to think. Confused, the club members watched Juho quietly and then each found themselves a spot. In the not-so-spacious room, the members scattered throughout, each glaring at their figure intently. Baron was sketching quietly from his seat at the moment. "Salt…" "Sugar…" People murmured quietly. One would think that they were part of the Cooking Club. Seo Kwang flicked his finger on the figure's head. 'Thud.' "Mr. Agrippa, please say something," he muttered. "Keep it down, will ya?" Sun Hwa said. "You're the loudest one in the room. Stop looking for salt." Having been looking for sugar, Bom clenched her lips in embarrassment. They wanted an eye-opening discovery, something that would shock the world, flip it upside down. According to Mr. Moon's analogies, they were attempting to cook steak. Juho turned his attention to his figure. There wasn't a need for anything impressive. All it took was to come in contact with one single emotion. That was more than enough to start. Soon, salt and sugar turned into impulsivity and curiosity. 'What kind of truth was this figure harboring?' When he thought of the plaster busts, the first thing that came to mind was Pygmalion. He was an artist who fell in love with a sculpture he had sculpted himself. 'Should I try going in this direction? Or…' Juho thought as he examined the outer appearance of the Agrippa bust. It was heavy and rigid, but it had no shape below the chest. Juho gave it an imaginary pair of hands and feet. The figure grew in size. Juho stood up, following the figure as it grew taller. No blood flowed underneath its ivory skin. Juho imagined it having blood. The heart started beating as it pumped out blood, transferring oxygen throughout the body. Agrippa started to breathe, and Juho put his hand underneath its nose. He felt air coming out of it, carrying body heat. A warmth spread throughout its cold, lifeless skin. As it breathed, it gained the ability to move. Juho watched Agrippa as it walked around the science room, touching and feeling various objects, occasionally breaking them. It doubted objects that it had never seen before while being wary of people it had never met. It became angry quickly, but on the other hand, it became happy just as easily. Juho quietly observed its behavior. He had been solely responsible for granting Agrippa such attributes. In real life, Agrippa was no more than a plaster figure. It couldn't move or be wary of people. As Juho took away its hands and feet as well as its blood and emotions, Agrippa quickly shrunk in size. Sitting on the floor, Juho was back to where he had started. He tried feeling Agrippa's head. 'Rigid. Cold,' he thought. 'What else can I take away from it? What else can I get rid of from this cold, rigid plaster figure? Is there a way to describe that as freedom?' Time kept ticking as Juho immersed himself in thought. Soon, the club members started to reach their limits. Each of their concentration started to fail. Sun Hwa made a noise as she twisted her body. Bom sighed while Seo Kwang moaned mysteriously. Baron was sketching Agrippa in his sketchbook. In the end, Sun Hwa was the first to explode, "I don't get it!" "Shut up." She paid no attention to Seo Kwang. "What's so new about this? New perspective? Creation? What is all that? I can't think of anything. Have I been this stupid all along? I have good grades though!" Seo Kwang pushed away the figure with his feet, joining in on Sun Hwa's ranting, "Mr. Moon must have a story that involves a plaster figure. This happened at the essay contest too! Does he have a thing for plaster figures!?" Juho quietly agreed. There had to be a story. "I don't know where to start," said Bom with a timid voice. Seo Kwang and Sun Hwa were both in situations similar to hers. Creation. New perspective. It all sounded too difficult. Bom quietly called for Juho, "Were you able to think of anything?" "A little bit." "What??" Sun Hwa asked fiercely. After a brief time thinking, he decided to give her a hint, "Try not to complicate it." With that, he picked up the figure from the floor. The coldness pierced through his hands. 'Feelings that come from the outside. That's what I need to focus on.' "To start with, it's hard to be creative. Start slow, one step at a time." "How do you do that?" Seo Kwang asked. "Just… however you feel like it?" Everyone sighed out loud. "You. Mr. Moon. Not helpful," said Sun Hwa. "That's a little harsh," Juho said with a chuckle. In order to escape the accusation of being ambiguous like Mr. Moon, he approached Baron with the figure still in his hands. All eyes were on him. "Can I borrow your pencil?" Without saying much, Baron handed the pencil he was using over. With gratitude, Juho pointed the pencil in his hand at Agrippa. "For example…" After drawing on its face for a brief moment, he turned Agrippa around and showed it to the rest of the club members. On its once pale, lifeless face, there was hair sticking out of his nose. Nose hair. Seo Kwang gave Juho a dumbfounded look. "What?! Are you kidding me?" "You can't be serious." Everyone seemed disappointed, but Juho paid no attention to their expressions. "Just like that, my Agrippa now has luscious nose hairs, unlike yours." In those seemingly trivial words, there was something that the club members couldn't catch. Something different from the others. Juho had obtained it easily, but he didn't stop there. He raised his hands high, drawing everyone's attention. On his hands, was the only Agrippa figure with nose hair in the room. It didn't look very stable. 'What else can I take away from it? What else can I get rid of from this cold, rigid plaster figure?' With those thoughts, he threw the figure down at the floor. With a loud noise and faint sense of pleasure in Juho's mind, the Agrippa bust shattered into pieces. Someone screamed. Now, Agrippa had lost his shape. Juho had taken away its shape, freeing it from its confinement. "What should we call it now?" Juho asked himself as he picked up the Agrippa pieces. "Debris? Shattered figure? Trash? Agrippa?" Nobody answered. "You scared me!" Sun Hwa said annoyingly. Bom was covering her mouth. Baron stared at Juho from afar quietly. Nobody was hurt because Juho had made sure to throw it in a safe direction. "What the heck is this about?" "What? What's so wrong about it?" Sun Hwa was at loss for words. He was right. Nothing was wrong. She simply couldn't think of it. She hadn't had the courage to throw Agrippa at the floor. A slight sense of bitterness rushed over her. 'Why can't I be as brave as him?' Then, she remembered what Mr. Moon had said earlier. 'You won't get much from just sitting there and looking around.' She had finally understood what he had meant. She had been much more timid than she had realized. 'I'm so mad…!' she thought, clenching her teeth. At that moment, she's had another thought, 'What about my Agrippa?' Her figure was standing where she had left it, staring in the direction of the shattered figure. 'I wonder what it's thinking. Maybe it's jealous since that's the only figure that broke out of its mold.' "I see now." The shattering sound pierced Sun Hwa's ears. The impact outside had kickstarted a chain of thoughts in her mind. Sensation moved feelings, and those feelings that shook loose belonged to Sun Hwa. Once she gave its empty face an emotion, she eventually came to believe it to be real. Seo Kwang and Bom seemed to have caught on as well. They started examining their figures with serious expressions on their faces. They were working hard to find their own Agrippas. As Juho watched them with a satisfied smile, his eyes met the shattered pieces of his Agrippa. Then, he quietly made his way to his class to get a broom and a dustpan. Upon seeing the figure in pieces in the dustpan, Mr. Moon smiled with satisfaction. He had had a good reason for buying them with his own money. --- 'Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.' Waking up, Juho checked the time. It was 8:00 a.m. Lately, he hadn't been writing much outside of the Literature Club, which was different from usual, when he wrote into the night regardless of where he was. The change was somewhat unfamiliar. He felt sluggish and thirsty. Although there was a cup of water on the desk, it was out of his reach. Instead of sitting up, he stayed on his bed, staring at the ceiling. After some time, it almost felt like it was spinning. As time went by, more and more people evaluated 'The Sound of Wailing.' Juho had been reading the reviews as much as he could. Each person had read the book with their respective point of view, interpreting accordingly. "I'm noticing more depth in his writing." "His book got darker." "I wonder if something happened to the author?" The critics took 'The Sound of Wailing' apart and analyzed it from different angles. Some were rather plausible whereas others weren't. Juho blinked, and the ceiling stopped spinning. Overall, the book was well-received, and there were more positive reviews than negative ones. Juho felt relieved as he thought about his past works. They were deep-seeded memories. The most commonly used word to describe his book then had been 'bubble.' Bubble. It meant that it lacked substance. The readers had been disappointed and had started to associate him with 'bubble.' As a person who had been content with the simple pleasure of being called a genius, it had been more than enough to tear his world apart. As he reminisced, Juho felt a strange sense of betrayal boiling up from within. Just like that, Yun Woo had met his downfall in the past. Now, there was a sense of relief in place of that sense of betrayal. 'What am I feeling relieved about? The present that's different from the past? All the compliments?' Juho felt confused. At times, emotions were a pain in the neck. They sprung up without warning, like a waterfall that flowed in reverse. They weren't reasonable and they weren't the most flattering either. There was no way to know where they would be stored. The biggest issue was that Juho himself was entertained by them, so he couldn't ignore them completely. If anything, he wanted to draw them closer. He wanted to dip his hand in the stream of water that flowed up to the sky. In the end, he wanted to translate that cool, refreshing sensation into writing.

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86 Chapter 86 - A Long-Awaited Encounter 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Juho felt refreshed just from the thought of dipping his hand into the water. Perhaps, he'd gotten used to being thirsty. Sitting up on the bed, he reached his hand out toward the desk, groping for something. He felt a book on his hand with a torn cover. Stroking the cover, he opened the book. He read, slowly, one sentence after another. However, he closed the book before he had even finished reading the first page. He couldn't bear to read it anymore. Though it was the result of dozens of revisions and edits, he didn't even want to touch it. In order to bring himself out of that uncomfortable place in his head, Juho put the book down and turned on his computer to access the online bookstore. On the side, there was a list ranking bestsellers '1. The Sound of Wailing.' When he clicked it, an even bigger image appeared on the screen along with his name, "Yun Woo." He thought of the reviews he had read recently. 'I read it because it's by Yun Woo." 'I ordered it as soon as I saw the name 'Yun Woo.'" 'I bought it because it's written by 'Yun Woo.'" Yun Woo. Juho stared at that word quietly. Of course, there was a part of him that wanted people to read his book as much as possible. His name had always been an advantage, so there wasn't anything to complain about. On the other hand, he wondered if the results would have been the same if his name hadn't been displayed. In that case, the name "Yun Woo" would eventually be reduced to nothing more than a bubble. What if it had already? Wouldn't that mean that nothing had changed after all? 'I need to stop.' Those thoughts weren't helpful, so Juho drove out every single thought that was occupying his mind. The thoughts were driven out of his head migrated onto his palms. He knew what that signal meant. He was familiar with it, having experienced it several times in the past. Now, there was no choice but to write. Setting aside his book browsing, Juho picked up a pen that had been rolling around on his desk. He reached for a piece of paper that was within reach. There was no plot or structure to what he wrote. No characters. No background. He was driven only by his desires, filling the emptiness with his pen. There wasn't anything unhealthy about what he was doing. Because it was meant to be written and read by him and himself alone, there was no guilt. Aside from a quick piece of toast for lunch, Juho spent hours writing. When his hand started to give out from the pain, he put down the pen and moved on to typing. Having written to his heart's content, he looked at the time. It was 4:00 a.m. "My hand hurts." Feeling his hand throbbing painfully, he went to sleep * Yun Seo was preparing a meal for a special guest. She was cooking twice as much food as usual, and before she knew it, it was almost time for the guest's arrival. She called for her two pupils as she walked out of the kitchen, "Joon Soo, Geun Woo?" "Yes, Mrs. Baek," Joon Soo answered quickly, neatly dressed. By contrast, Geun Woo ran out to the living room, "Mrs. Baek, do you think this is good enough?" "Haha! It's not like you're meeting the president you know," said Yun Seo, smiling. "Well, it's just as special! It's Mr. Lim we're talking about! I really want to look presentable." "You wouldn't have had to be in such a hurry if you were just a bit more organized." "You're asking too much, Mrs. Baek." Having listened to the conversation, Joon Soo said as he looked at the clock, "He should be here any minute now." "Yes, any minute now. He's never late." "He's always on time. I don't know how he does it. He's incredible." Geun Woo took deep breaths in an attempt to calm his nerves. He had been spending a significant amount of time, since that morning, desperate for a compliment. Though not as apparent as Geun Woo, Joon Soo, too, had been constantly checking himself in the mirror. Yun Seo smiled. The name "Hyun Do Lim" had always had an entertaining effect on the younger authors. Although he had never called them out on the way they dressed, her pupils always greeted him with excitement and anticipation. They seemed rather nervous about meeting a veteran author who also happened to be among the legends. Yun Seo was proud of her pupils' for the way they treated her friend and fellow author, Hyun Do. 'Ding, Dong.' As the doorbell rang, Joon Soo and Geun Woo quickly tensed up. Light-footed, Yun Seo walked toward the door. A handsome gentleman stepped in. Finally, the face Joon Soo and Geun Woo had been desperately waiting to see. "Hey, you," greeted Yun Seo with an innocent smile. The gentleman greeted her as he looked at her with a lukewarm expression. "Hi." It was a clear sounding voice, low and gentle. Behind Yun Seo, Joon Soo was occupied with keeping Geun Woo calm. In order to introduce them, Yun Seo moved aside. "Welcome! My pupils have been waiting eagerly." "I believe I got here on time." "Oh, don't be coy now. You're not shy, are you?" "Are you planning on leaving me standing here?" As they conversed comfortably, Joon Soo and Geun Woo waited anxiously to greet him and barely managed to say, "Hello." Hyun Do looked at them with calm eyes. "You look healthy." "Yes, sir. I've been doing well," said Joon Soo with stiff shoulders. With a smile, Hyun Do added, "You can relax." "Yes, sir." Despite his answer, his shoulders remained rigid. Having been frivolous up to a moment ago, Geun Woo also stood quietly. As his eyes met with Hyun Do's, Hyun Do took the initiative to greet him, "You look nice. I like it." A bright smile spread on Geun Woo's face. He had been desperately waiting for a compliment from Hyun Do. Yun Seo was impressed by Hyun Do's ability to identify and say what the other person wanted to hear. "Thank you!" Geun Woo said, smiling ear to ear. "You must be hungry! I made your favorite," said Yun Seo. "Hmmm," Hyun Do let out a mysterious moan. It wasn't apparent whether he was upset or excited. "I'm guessing you made way too much food?" "Nothing makes you sadder than not having enough to eat." "You're just too generous." Hyun do walked quietly toward the kitchen, his black and silver hair completely still. Joon Soo and Geun Woo followed. There was a plethora of food on the table, but that day, the table was especially more colorful. As Yun Seo watched the food go into Hyun Do's mouth, she asked excitedly, "Well? How is it? It's been a while since you've had it, right?" She seemed happy to see her friend again. "It's good," he answered briefly, sitting with his back straight. Sitting with open shoulders gave one a confident appearance. There was a reason her pupils paid so much attention to their postures whenever Hyun Do was over. "This has got to be a lot of work." "It's fun. I wouldn't be able to do it if it was just work." "Don't over do it. We're not young anymore." "Oh, don't you worry about me. I still have plenty of strength. Hanging out with the youngins must have helped." Hyun Do chuckled. Looking in his direction, Yun Seo finally brought up the subject that she had been looking to mention, "Yun Woo came by the other day." His hand stopped in its tracks. Yun Seo smiled innocently and said, "Oh my, could it be that our infamous Mr. Lim made a wrong guess?" Hyun Do smiled without saying much. Having listened quietly, Joon Soo and Geun Woo wore a confused faces. A few moments later, Geun Woo asked quietly, "Did Juho do something?" Yun Seo explained willingly, "Our Mr. Lim here had said before that Yun Woo would have some trouble writing his next book." "Huh? But he didn't seem like he was struggling at all when he was here, and his books are selling like…" His voice grew timid as Joon Soo glanced in his direction. With a still expression, Hyun Do added, "I was shocked. It hasn't even been a year, and yet…" "He was an interesting one," said Yun Seo, studying Hyun Do's expression. Although he hadn't said it explicitly, she felt that he had an interest in Yun Woo. "Aren't you curious?" "A little bit." "Would you like to know more about him?" "If you want." Yun Seo contemplated making Hyun Do more desperate, but instead, she decided to be direct, "He was young, first of all." "I know his age," said Hyun Do, calmly. "But mature on the other hand," said Yun Seo, thinking back to the day she first met him. There had been no tension in the way he'd treated her. "Whenever I looked at him, it felt almost like time had moved slower around him. That kid knew how to be peaceful. It was apparent in his smile." "Hm." "He has a good appetite. Not picky at all." "He knew how to read Chinese poems, too," added Joon Soo. "Is that so?" "Yes. We talked about Li Taibo together." Geun Woo chimed in, "His ears were open too. You've always told us, Mrs. Baek - to be aware of what we hear in our surroundings. If anything, he's a tad bit too comfortable around adults. Oh, and he wasn't very good with spicy food." Before they knew it, they were offering up information to Hyun Do. Without saying much, he listened quietly. "He's also somewhat similar to my husband." At Yun Seo's words, Hyun Do's eyebrow rose slightly, "Having two of that kind in this world is a disaster." "What's wrong with my husband?" "He was all over the place. It was contagious, too." "I thought it was attractive." "You just have terrible taste." With those words, Hyun Do took a moment to think. "Juho Woo, was it? His real name?" "Yep. Juho Woo." "Do you think you can arrange a meeting?" Between her two pupils screaming silently, Yun Seo too had a surprised look on her face. "Oh, my! Really? This is so unlike you. What's gotten into you?" "I've been meaning to for some time now. I got to read his new book ahead of most people because of a request from the publishing company," he said. Unlike the others around him, he was calm. "And then??" "I became curious." "About what?" He stayed silent for a brief time. With a slight sense of jealousy, Joon Soo and Geun Woo listened intently to the conversation. Finally, Hyun Do's lips parted slowly and he said, "About him. I want to know how he's able to portray such raw emotions."

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87 Chapter 87 - A Long-Awaited Encounter 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl In order to catch up with his transcription, Juho took out Hyun Do Lim's book and placed it gently onto the desk with his notebook. As usual, his effort was short-lived, but by now, he came to accept it. Having opened the book, he had naturally started to read page after page. By the time he finished doing that, a significant amount of time had already passed. Though he couldn't think of a specific reason, the book was always a good read. Every time he read it, he always felt that it was a good book. After that, he revisited the scene that left a deep impression on him. In the house once occupied by his wife and children, the old man was left all alone. He stood in front of a mirror and confessed his life. 'Where is it?' he asked. The mirror was the only place to whom he could ask that question. Of course, the old man in the mirror did not speak until he did. Yet, he waited for an answer. It was idiotic. The restrained atmosphere made the reading experience unpleasant, but Juho was drawn to it still. The book had a way of attracting its reader emotionally. Hyun Do Lim. He was an author who wrote well into his late years, an author loved by authors. Calculating and insistent in his style, he had inspired many people. His books were filled with philosophical content that had been dressed in beautiful writing. Of course, he was still active to that day. Juho brushed his hand across the letters in his book. At times, that was enough to move a person to tears. "Where is it?" Juho read the line out loud. The stubborn old man asked that of the mirror upon realizing the death of his family. There was no one left in that world that would listen to him. An old man who had been secretly watching the three brothers next door. An old man who had been infuriated by the injustice between them. Because he couldn't tolerate the inexperience of children, he probably couldn't forgive himself either. Suddenly, Juho was overcome by an urge to look into a mirror. 'There's a mirror in the bathroom.' After standing up from his chair, he headed for the bathroom. The mirror appeared as soon as he opened the door, and as he walked in, he saw himself in it. There were water stains on it that gave it a dirty look. He turned on the faucet in order to clean the mirror, wiping it with his wet hand. Although the stains disappeared, he still didn't get the impression that it was clean. 'Click.' As his fingernail hit the surface of the mirror, it made a light yet dull sound. After ringing out for a brief moment, the sound soon dissipated into the air. In the mirror, Juho saw himself touching the mirror with the same face, expression, and skin. If it weren't for the boundary called mirror, there wouldn't be a way for him to distinguish himself. For no apparent reason, he flicked his finger against the mirror twice. Then, thinking of an author whose favorite number was three, he gave it another flick. The author's books were still not doing well. Because the most recent had been published around the same time as Juho's second book, it was suffering more than usual. Though Joon Soo had complained to Juho as a joke, Juho didn't feel sorry for him. He knew Joon Soo would become successful one day in the near future. 'Should I be on my toes?' Juho thought, chuckling. Then, looking up, he looked into his eyes in the mirror and decided to explore his imagination a little bit. 'Caw!' A crow sat on his right shoulder. Black beak. Black eyes. Black feathers. 'How long has it been there?' Juho thought as he stared at it quietly. After bobbing its head a few times, it spread its wings annoyingly, as if it had been irritated with Juho for calling it for no apparent reason. Juho closed his eyes at the sight of the crow's frantic movement. By the time he opened them again, it had vanished into the shadow. As he chased after it, Juho picked up a cleaning brush from the corner of the bathroom. "Where was that detergent?" With that, he started to scrub away forcefully. After cleaning the bathroom thoroughly, he dried the moisture on his hand and made his way back to his room. As he walked in, he saw a shiny object on his bed. It was his phone, illuminating rhythmically, meaning that there was a message or messages that he hadn't checked yet. Surprisingly, it was a text from Yun Seo, which he read through quickly. 'Would you like to meet with Hyun Do Lim?' "... Hyun Do Lim?" Juho looked at the book he had been reading up to a moment ago. Standing still, he picked it up quietly and opened it to its first page, where the author's profile was. Dark and silver hair. Handsome appearance that gave off a calm disposition. That was the person Juho would have the opportunity to meet. "Ha…!" Juho couldn't help but chuckle. 'Maybe I can get an autograph?' Just like that, the meeting with Hyun Do Lim was arranged. --- Time passed, and Juho was a day away from meeting Hyun Do Lim, and he had been absent-minded throughout the entire school day. To be precise, his attention was elsewhere. Although the only difference was that he was awake, the fact that he wasn't paying attention remained unchanged. "Do you like someone?" Seo Kwang asked. "Nope," answered Juho, lightheartedly. "Then what are you daydreaming about?" "Am I?" "Yeah, you are, even as we speak." "Yeah?" "This is bad," said Seo Kwang, resting his chin on his hand. "Did something happen?" "Yep, something good," said Juho, chuckling quietly. "Something good? How good?" Juho shared the reality that was too good to be true with Seo Kwang, "Hm, like meeting Hyun Do Lim in person good?" "WHOA!" Hyun Do Lim. At the sound of his name, Seo Kwang's eyes sparkled brightly. "You're meeting Hyun Do Lim?? I wouldn't be able to sleep for at least a couple nights. I'd probably take a sedative the day of, and then clutch my chest an hour before as my heart tried to jump out of me." "That's oddly specific." "If I were meeting Mr. Lim at four in the afternoon, I'd be on cloud nine an hour before," Seo Kwang said as he shook his own hands. It wouldn't have been odd to think that he was a prince from an alien planet. With a chuckle, Juho turned his attention away from his friend and to the outside. 'One day away. Maybe I really need a sedative," he thought as he looked down at his heart, which was beating calmly like usual. It was almost boringly calm. Because it had been arranged in such a spontaneous manner, he felt like it could get cancelled just as suddenly. He looked up at the sky and saw the clouds that were floating away as calmly as his heartbeat. There wasn't a single bird in the sky. 'Is this really happening?' he asked himself. It all felt unreal. The day finally came. Juho woke up early that morning and checked his phone. There weren't any messages that said anything about the meeting being cancelled. It was really going to happen. There was still some time, but it was still the day Juho would meet an author with the fitting reputation of a literary colossus, but the day felt hardly any different. As usual, he spent his time reading after showering and eating, then writing, daydreaming, and brainstorming. 'Buzz.' At that moment, his phone rang. It was Seo Joong. When Juho answered, the familiar voice sounded from the other end. "Mr. Woo. What are you up to this fine day?" Seo Joong asked light-heartedly, and Juho thought immediately of his untidy appearance. "I was getting ready to go out." "Oh!" he exclaimed. It was hard to tell whether he was surprised or disappointed. "Is that so? I wanted to treat you out to some food. Who are you seeing? A girlfriend?" Juho answered his childish joke calmly, "Mr. Hyun Do Lim." The line went silent, and Juho checked to see if the call had dropped, but the call was very much ongoing, and the receiver hadn't been muted. That meant that the silence had to be coming from the person on the other end. Juho waited patiently for his response, and it didn't take long to hear shouting, "H, Hyun Do Lim?! As in THE Hyun Do Lim?! The Hyun Do Lim I'm thinking of?!" "Yep." At Juho's brief answer, Seo Joong grew all the more anxious. "How? How did that happen?" "Mrs. Baek asked if I wanted to meet him, so I said yes, and we scheduled it for today." "... You know Mrs. Baek too?" "Yes." After Juho's brief answer, the silence returned once again. Just as he had done before, Juho waited quietly for Seo Joong. "Get an autograph for me, will ya?" he asked childishly. "I'm not sure. I think I got my hands full as is with getting one for myself." "Come on! I'll give you my autograph too." "There's no need," said Juho with a chuckle. "Where is it at??" "Why? Are you planning on visiting?" "I don't have the guts for that." Juho shared the location of the meeting willingly. It was at a place he had never heard of in the past. "I was told the meeting is going to be at Mrs. Song's restaurant?" "Ah, I see." Seo Joong seemed to be familiar with the place. "You sound like you've been there." "Yep. That place is well-known among authors." "Really?" "The owner and chef, Mrs. Song, is an avid novel reader. Her food is amazing too. I don't know the details myself, but it's almost like a regular spot for writers. A friend of mine recommended the place, so I checked it out and met Joon Soo Bong. You might run into him too if you're lucky. Although, nobody there will know that you're Yun Woo." Joon Soo Bong. Juho was well-acquainted with that name by now. 'So, Seo Joong and Joon Soo know each other, huh?' thought Juho. "I wanted to take you there myself, but it seems like Mr. Lim beat me to it. You're one lucky guy." At Juho's quiet chuckle, Seo Joong asked playfully, "Aren't you nervous? You're meeting one of the greats!" "I'm not sure. Maybe it hasn't sunk in yet." "Well, I can't imagine you getting nervous either. You know, for your age, you've got guts." "You never know. I might get nervous when I meet him." "To this day, I've never met anyone who said things like that when they were nervous." When Juho checked the clock, he saw it was nearly time for him to leave the house. "I think I need to get going." "All right, I don't want you to be late either. Tell me more about it afterwards! Get me an autograph if you can." He was rather insistent about getting Hyun Do's autograph. Juho hung up the phone with a half-hearted answer.

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88 Chapter 88 - A Long-Awaited Encounter 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Madame Song's restaurant was in a rather secluded place. Once Juho entered a dark alleyway, he was greeted by a neat row of flowerpots. According to Yun Seo, those flowerpots meant that the restaurant was near. Remembering what she had said, Juho kept on. The ground was made of bricks that were somewhat uneven. Although Juho felt slightly uneasy at the thought of the bricks being loose, the ground seemed to be much sturdier than it looked. After walking past the flowerpots, his eyes were met by a luxurious restaurant that came into stark contrast without its surroundings. It seemed more like an art gallery than a restaurant. 'I wonder why it's so secluded? It wouldn't have been weird to find a building like this at a major street.' The disparity in the visuals between the restaurant and its surrounding gave it a mysterious atmosphere. After looking around the building for a short time, Juho carefully stepped into the restaurant. The gentle sound of the door made his presence known. In what seemed like a waiting room, there was a couch, a cash register and a rather large mirror in place of a wall. As he sat on the couch, he saw his reflection in the mirror in front of him. The wait couldn't have been long. Time tended to fly when one stared into their face in the mirror. A woman was standing by the cash register. Though their eyes met, she didn't try to rush him to a table. Juho stood in front of the mirror to straighten his clothes. Because it was a special occasion, one of meeting one of the literary greats, he was intentional about looking presentable. If Dong Gil had been there, he would have smiled proudly. As Juho checked himself in the mirror, he thought of one of Hyun Do Lim's books. His reflection in the mirror asked, "Where is it?" "Madame Song's restaurant," Juho answered without hesitation. Unlike the atmosphere in Hyun Do's book, it had sounded more like a cheesy promotional video. At that moment, the door opened, signaling another potential customer. Juho looked at the mirror. The first thing that stood out was the man's straight posture. While being impressed, Juho's eyes met his. To be precise, Juho's eyes met the reflection of the man in the mirror. With his eyes fixated on the reflection of the man's black and silver hair, Juho greeted him, "Hello." The man didn't respond. Juho turned around to see him in person. His still, motionless figure gave off a picturesque appearance. "You must be Juho," the man said. Juho felt relieved that the man called him by his real name. Then, he realized that he had been more nervous than he had been aware of. A sense of peace washed over him. "Yes, sir," he answered, smiling. "Hm. I see that your shoulders are quite relaxed." 'Was it a compliment?' "It's perfect for writing." 'A compliment. It was an honor.' "Thank you." "Shall we?" Finally, they made their way into the restaurant. Although Hyun Do didn't say his name, they were lead to their table by the woman who had been standing quietly by the cash register. Walking past several tables, a room became visible. Much like the exterior, the interior was just as luxurious. As they took their seats, a woman who seemed to be around Hyun Do's age walked into the room with a menu in her hands. Her generous appearance resembled that of a bear cub. "Mister Hyun Do Lim. Been a while. You need to come more often. Help a friend out." She seemed to be a friend of Hyun Do. Without changing his expression or attitude, Hyun Do answered, "My understanding was that you're here to give each of us a menu?" "Thought I should see my friend's face too while I'm at it. I see that you have company unlike usual? He seems young," she said. The puzzled look on her face made her look even more like a bear cub. With a laugh, she introduced herself, "Madame Song. Pleased to meet you." Indeed, she was Madame Song. "Hello. Juho Woo." "Right. So, how do you know Hyun Do? Are you a pupil of his?" As she made the question with sparkling eyes, Hyun do stepped in before Juho even had the time to respond, "I'm here to eat, but I haven't gotten my menu yet." "OK, OK. Can't hurt to hang out a little, you know," she said, putting the menus on the table. Without even looking at them, Hyun Do handed one over to Juho and said, "Pick whatever you want." "What about you?" "He always gets the same thing, everytime," said Madame Song. "Can I order the same thing?" Juho asked curiously. "I suppose there's no reason you can't," said Hyun Do, smiling light-heartedly. Juho had no clue as to what he had ordered, but it didn't bother him. As Madame Song observed the two entertainingly, she took their orders and left the room with an innocent, cub-like smile. Soon, soup and bread made their way to the table as if trading places with her. Juho and Hyun Do ate quietly without saying anything. Sitting across from Juho, the literary great didn't seem to be put off by the silence. With a thin smile, the man's lips parted to ask, "Do you look at yourself in the mirror often?" Instinctively, Juho thought of the moment he first saw Hyun Do in the mirror. After a brief time thinking, he answered, "Not exactly 'often,' no. However, I've been looking at myself in the mirror for a good long while as of late." "Why is that?" "I've been transcribing your book, 'The Mirror.'" Hyun Do asked his reason for transcribing that book. "I'm part of the Literature Club at school, and we've been transcribing books as one of our assignments. I chose your work." "Was there a reason behind choosing my book?" "I followed my emotions more than rationality." "So, out of impulse." He was right, and Juho smiled and explained, "I found your book at the school library. The moment I saw it, my hand went right for it." "Things are hard, aren't they?" he asked suddenly, and Juho thought of the transcription he had fallen behind on. 'How did he know?' he thought. Seeing how Juho remained quiet, Hyun Do added, "I can tell from your writing." "Have you read them?" "I have." "How were they?" Though Juho had asked that light-heartedly, inside, he felt nervous. Though his emotions had been completely composed amid the reviews of his book so far, they wavered like the ocean before Hyun Do. "I was a bit puzzled," answered Hyun Do without hesitation. Not good, or bad, but puzzled. Juho found himself puzzled by his evaluation. "What was puzzling about it to you?" "The very existence of it." "Its existence?" "That's right. The new book by Yun Woo, the genius author. I was puzzled by its existence itself. I wouldn't have expected it to come out so soon. It also turned out to be an excellent book. The emotions were potent to the point of feeling like they had been poured out. Where did you find the time to gather all that?" 'Gather? What does he mean by that? Is he talking about the subject?' Juho wandered. Though he was happy that he was being complimented by the great, he was also having a hard time understanding him. With that, Hyun Do asked, "It was a pain transcribing 'The Winter,' wasn't it?" The conversation was back on track. "Yes. It left me with a deep impression when I've read it, so I didn't hesitate to choose that book, but transcribing it was a different story. I felt somewhat repulsed by it, like I was overeating." To be frank, it had been quite the drudgery. It had been exhausting. He had felt like he had been engorging, forcing food into his mouth when he was already full. It had been no different from torture, and it had been just as painful as starving. However, it had also been different from it. What he had felt was closer to being excess rather than deficiency. A corner of Hyun Do's mouth turned up as if he'd found Juho's analogy funny. "I'm sure that book made it worse. I deliberately wrote it that way." "Deliberately?" "I wrote 'The Mirror' like I was being forced to." Force to. It was similar to what Juho had experienced. "It was a bit out of impulsivity and as an experiment, but hardly anybody seems to have caught on. Because the emotions are hidden, they are invisible at the surface, but like you said, transcribing it is a different story." The process of transcribing involved following the steps of the author's emotions. It was different from interpreting the book as a reader. Juho was finally able to understand why transcribing 'The Winter' had been such a burden. The book had revealed his impulsive nature that had been hiding within. To be more precise, it had dug it out of him. Its emptiness had been filled by traces of Hyun Do's impulsivity. "You're sensitive," said Hyun Do. Juho didn't deny him. "And you have skill." Again, he was right. Juho knew better than anyone else when to turn away from something. It was one of his methods of survival. "Did you learn that from reading my book?" "I can see it now that I've met you in person. You can't learn things like that just by reading," Hyun Do said as he shook his head and went on to talk about Yun Woo. "As a young, sensitive author with skill, Yun Woo wrote a book at the age of sixteen. It was hard to believe that the book was written by an author that age. Not only did it have excellent plot and atmosphere, but it also had its author's distinct personality. People were shocked, and they started interpreting their experiences as either a gift or a miracle... "... but, I have a different view," he added. "What is your take?" Juho asked. With that, Hyun Do looked down at his lukewarm soup and bread. "A digestive process." Juho followed Hyun Do's eyes to the bread and soup. It was hard to follow what Hyun Do was saying. "You mean the one that starts as we put food into our mouths and start chewing?" "That's right. Except, I'm not talking about food here." "Then?" "Emotions," said Hyun Do, meeting Juho's eyes. "I've been meaning to ask you something." "Yes, anytime." "What do you do when you're angry?" Juho traced back to his memories of being angry. 'Angry. I'd probably just be angry,' he thought. Although it seemed obvious, he couldn't think of anything. In hindsight, he had never expressed his emotions directly to another person. "I can barely remember anything about the last time I was angry." "Which means, you've relieved it somehow, right? As long as you're a person, there's no way that you can live your life without having your feelings hurt in some way." Just like he said, Juho too was a person. He had emotions and as long as he had them, there were bound to be times when he would be angry. He was well-acquainted with the sensation of something welling up from within. Emotions. He looked down at his palm. Whenever he started to feel something, his palm started itching. It almost felt like it was receiving signals from something. 'What do I do whenever I feel that?' "I write." He wrote.

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89 Chapter 89 - A Long-Awaited Encounter 4

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl That was right. Juho had been writing in order to consume his emotions. In Hyun Do's own words, he had "digested" them. "But it seems more like a habit." "Which means you write like it's your habit." It was just as Hyun Do said. Whenever he was angry, Juho had reached for his pen ever since he was young. It had eventually become a habit, and for that reason, he didn't think of writing as something that needed practice or training. One eventually became a better writer the more they wrote. Assuming that everything he had written so far had been a way to express his anger, Hyun Do's conjecture would make sense. "You've been naturally embodying your emotions in your writing. Over time, that habit's turned into something that sets you apart as an author. Writing sincerely is one of the most difficult things to do, but on the other hand, it's also the easiest. At times, even a child can write something with sincerity." "So what does that make me?" "In your case, it wouldn't be an overstatement to say that your talent came with practice. Although, you don't seem to be too caught up with people calling you a genius," added Hyun Do, examining Juho's face intently. 'He must have figured it out already,' Juho thought. With a smile, he decided to admit it, "You're right. I'm after a different title." "That's wise," he said as he changed the subject. "In this field, there's nothing more foolish than coveting after talent." 'Drag.' The door opened as soon as Hyun Do finished speaking. The food had finally come out. The table was filled with various kinds of dishes, and Juho studied the food, which was Hyun Do's go-to item on the menu. "I'm seeing fish?" "Hope it's to your liking." "I'm not very picky." "That's good. Being picky is fatal to an author." The statement wasn't exclusively for food. Prejudice. Bias. Those were the things that authors had to avoid at all cost. Juho nodded immediately as he understood what Hyun Do was trying to say. As they began their meal, Juho cut open his fish, revealing its pale, buttery meat. The fragrance of garlic and herbs made the dish all the more appetizing. The asparagus that came with it left a clean after taste. It was delicious. "You seem to like it." "Yes, this is great!" As they ate, Hyun do resumed the conversation, "So, how far did you get with transcribing?" It was about his book, so Juho shared his progress with him, "I'm at the part where the old man is about to start observing the three brothers next door." "Hm." One would describe that scene as a transition from the beginning to the middle of the book. Having been left alone at home, the old man started to peek at the three brothers living next door. That part was one of the more drawn out parts in the book, an old man peeking at the three innocent brothers. The three brothers turned against each other as if they were affected by the old man. It was the beginning of the breakdown. Suddenly, Juho became curious as to why Hyun Do left such potent emotions in his sentences. 'What could have been his reason for detailing such uncomfortable emotions?' And he asked the author without hesitation, "So, what made you write a book like that?" "A book as in?" "The one you wrote like you were being forced to." "There are two reasons," said Hyun Do with a smile, putting two fingers out. He had quite a few explanations for such an impulsively written book. "One has to do with the cause for writing that book." "The cause." It was the word for a reason or an opportunity that produced a certain outcome. "One day, I looked into a mirror." "Like usual?" "Yes. Then, I tried distorting the image on purpose. I wanted to write another book. The obvious evaporated, and I was left only with doubt. In that state, I looked into the mirror again. The fact that I was able to see myself in it fascinated me, but it put me off at the same time. No matter how much I resist, my mind recognized that I was looking at myself. Whether drunk, or asleep, I was me. It got old after a while." It didn't matter how much one fought back or denied it. That fact remained the same. "One finds himself in a mirror," echoed Juho quietly, and Hyun Do nodded. "There's no fun in that." With that, he began to talk about animals, "Elephants are generally known to be smart. When you give them a mirror for the first time, they examine what's behind it. They become wary at first, but they eventually become curious and think that it wants to be friends with it. I was jealous of the fact that animals were capable of expressing such diverse emotions at themselves. I wondered what it'd feel like to be able to treat myself like a stranger." When first presented with a mirror, a wild animal tended to attack it, not knowing that it was attacking its own reflection. It became wary and fearful at itself, which was unimaginable for a human. It wasn't common for a person to punch a mirror because they didn't recognize their own reflection. Despite humans being animals themselves, that was a strange phenomenon. "I wanted to be that kind of animal," said Hyun Do, cutting into his fish. Being an animal. 'Have I ever thought about that?' Juho thought. "I don't pretend to know everything. I think repeatedly, wondering who the stranger in the mirror is the entire day. It enables me to think freely, without hindrance. I might end up spending my entire life trying to stand side by side with that person, wanting to strike a conversation. It's delightful. Isn't it exciting?" It was exciting. 'Did he achieve his goal?' Juho wondered. "But it didn't turn out as I'd hoped. In the end, I'm me. So, I picked up a pen instead. That's all I could do." "So that's how 'The Mirror' came about." Hyun Do nodded lightly. Juho felt somewhat suffocated. He imagined what Hyun Do had said. It was a tiny space without windows or doors, making it impossible to go in or out. Whether his eyes were open or closed, he found himself in the same place. There was no answer as to when he would be freed from such containment. It was a freedom even death couldn't promise to grant. There was a wall right before his eyes, his nose nearly touching it. No matter which direction he turned, it was always the same color. An old, worn out wall that stood for all eternity. In the containment, he lived his entire life. He stared at the wall intently, and it began to move like it was alive, throbbing. When he blinked, the wall no longer moved. Instead, a hole appeared on it. Slowly, Juho brought his eye to it. He had been deceived. It wasn't a hole. It was a black eye. The black, gaping eye of a crow. The wall opened its mouth wide, and then… … his fish came in sight. His heart was beating slightly fast. Subconsciously, he had examined its pale meat. It was a mere fish on a plate, and he brought a piece into his mouth, its rich flavor spreading around it. "This is great." "I'm glad." Hyun Do's voice rushed into Juho's ears as the cawing of the crow lingered. "Maybe liking myself is harder than it seems." Despite his somewhat random remark, Hyun Do answered calmly, "As long you don't hate yourself to death." Once again, a sense of relief washed over Juho. Smiling, he parted his lips in order to carry on the conversation, "So, what's the second reason?" Hyun Do did say that there were two reasons for writing his book, 'The Winter." "I heard a very nostalgic song in the street one day," he said nonchalantly, and Juho knew immediately that he wasn't just referring to music. "It was a song that I hadn't heard in a very long time. The moment I heard it, all the memories associated with it came rushing back, as if I'd never forgotten them. It's a persistent one, that song." "Kind of sounds like a person." "You guessed right." Juho looked at Hyun Do and brought up the name of the person he was thinking about at the moment, "Mr. Wol Kang. "That's right." Yun Seo Baek, Hyun Do Lim, and Wol Kang had been friends who had spent their entire youth together. Yun Seo Baek and Wol Kang became lovers while Hyun Do Lim remained their friend. Then, leaving his friend and wife behind, Wol Kang passed away. 'In that case, what was the significance of Hyun Do's impulsivity associated with Wol Kang?' "Forcing emotions into writing. That's what that friend of mine used to do a lot." From that sentence alone, Juho felt like everything had clicked. Hyun Do hadn't been talking about himself when he'd mentioned indigestion. He had sounded like he was sharing his experience. Which meant… "Wol was just like you." It had been about Wol Kang. "The digestive process?" "That's right. That's how he described his work - that his job was to digest emotions, feelings and experiences with his entire body and turn them into writing that had a similar flavor. He always said that there was flavors to writing. Some were pleasant and made you more than willing to swallow them, while others had the opposite effect. I never understood that, but I'm sure you do." "Well… Somewhat." It was more than possible to compare food with writing. It was essential to survival. When eaten in a hurry, or eaten when spoiled, it was bound to get the person sick. The remedy to that was yet more food. In any scenario, a person had to eat. There had been a time when Juho hadn't been able to write in the past. Then, he finally came to the realization that just because he had been breathing, it didn't necessarily mean that he was alive. Once he heard Hyun Do, everything made sense. Back then, his "digestive system" had stopped functioning. While the emotions had kept piling away, there hadn't been a way for him to digest them, making him lazy and lethargic. It was only natural that he hadn't been able to lead a healthy life. In the end, he couldn't help but start writing again. 'I wonder if Wol Kang was the same way,' Juho wondered. "So, I was simply trying to mimic him. I wanted to try writing in his distinct style. In other words, impulsivity." After a brief pause, Hyun Do continued, "I did learn something from it though." "What did you learn?" Juho asked. Looking down, he answered. "It's not for me to squander my emotions when I write." "Squander?" "I had to rest for an entire month after writing that book. I was amazed at how much emotion he used to gather up, even to the point of emptying himself." Juho understood what it meant to be empty. It was the feeling that he had been holding onto since the completion of his first book. However… "Isn't that why we write?" "Hm?" Hyun Do asked, looking puzzled. "That feeling of being emptied. I feel it too, but it gets filled back quickly. That's how I'm able to write. In other words, it's a sense of consumption. It's fun to spend money." "Money, huh. You really are more mature than you let on," said Hyun Do, looking entertained. Then, thinking for a brief time, he calmly parted his lips to say, "Every author has his way, so I'm not trying to tell you otherwise. Only, your way might be a little risky." "Risky?" "Once your digestive system breaks, your body no longer becomes sustainable." Suddenly, the air grew heavy. "Huh?" "People who stay as close to writing as you do tend to break down. Wol suffered quite a bit too." "Suffer how?" "For example…" He paused for a brief moment. "Indigestion." It was an answer much more light-hearted than what Juho had anticipated.

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90 Chapter 90 - A Long-Awaited Encounter 5

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Indigestion, huh?" Juho knew that Hyun Do wasn't simply referring to a stomach problem. 'What would happen if I couldn't digest my own emotions anymore? Would I last? If the organs in my body stopped working one by one and I became incapable of perceiving any emotion, would I still be able to write?' The likely answer would have to be, 'No.' "Don't be too scared." Juho looked up at the sound Hyun Do's voice. He wore a warm smile and said, "You're different. You're not like that fool." "Huh?" "Earlier, I said I was puzzled about your book, right?" Juho remembered the conversation that had briefly gone astray in which Hyun Do had said that he had been puzzled by Juho's new book. "I think I'm starting to get it now," Hyun Do continued. "Get what?" "You must be a light eater. All it takes to fill you up is a handful of food. It gives you the energy you need to write." That had been how Juho had been able to write a new book in such a short time. Juho looked at Hyun Do's nearly-empty plate. He was right. More so than others, Juho was able to spend the energy and able to fill his stomach up just as quickly. He was able to find emotions faster, enabling him to write more often. "You do seem to be greedy about food." Because of his greedy side, he had stored up the food that he hadn't gotten to eat at his house. Hyun Do was incredibly accurate. "As long as you chew your food, you'll be fine." "How was Mr. Wol Kang?" Juho asked before realizing it. "He didn't know what it meant to be efficient. He would cause all kinds of ruckus when he was trying to fill his stomach. He wasn't the type to think about consequences, so he ate recklessly. Light eating was far from his lifestyle," Hyun Do said with a chuckle. Juho became unbearably curious about him. He was dying to meet him. If possible, he was even willing to ask Hyun Do. Unfortunately, Wol Kang was no longer around. Even if Juho had asked for it, Hyun Do wouldn't have been able to help. However, as an author, there was a way - to write. 'As long as I stay active as an author, I'll eventually get to meet him on paper,' Juho thought. He was dying to know more about him. Despite how Juho had been feeling, the meal was nearing its end. With the exception of a few pieces of tomato, there was nothing left. As if he had been taking Juho's pace into consideration, Hyun Do, too, had nearly finished his food. Three pieces. At that sight, Juho thought of a couple of things to talk about. "What do you think about the number three?" Juho asked, and Hyun Do looked up at him. "I happen to have three pieces of tomatoes left on my plate," he explained. Despite the light-hearted subject, Hyun Do answered with a smile. He was growing fond of the young author who wasn't afraid to talk to him, "The number three, huh? It's a number easy to give significance to." "How so?" Hyun Do took his dishes and shook them lightly. It was more than enough to catch Juho's attention. "Earth is the third planet in the solar system, and we eat three meals throughout the day." "Pork belly is a wonderful thing," added Juho. "There are three medals in the Olympics. The first three get a medal. "You stay in high school for three years." (TL's note: In Korea, high school lasts for three years whereas elementary school spans six.) "Korea was labeled a third-world country after the war." "It was also divided into three nations at one point in history." "Also the current government is divided into three major branches. Legislative, Executive, and the Judicial. Separation of Powers." It had been fun and informative, but now, it was Juho's turn. He thought of a person who immediately came to mind when thinking about the number three. "Do you happen to know Joon Soo Bong?" He was an author who had a habit of gathering luck by tapping things three times. He was also very considerate toward others. "He used to be one of Yun Seo's pupils. I believe he's an author now. I saw him a few days ago." "He loves the number three." "He did have an odd habit." Hyun Do must have known. Of course, considering how sharp Hyun Do was, it would have been odd if he hadn't. "He's just the kind she would like." He was referring to Yun Seo, and after seeing the curiosity in Juho's eyes, Hyun Do added, "Joon Soo loves people. It's apparent in the way he writes. Affectionate, but delicate at times." "Right." "Learn to like people who are rough around the edges in a way. That would mean that you're learning to love humanity in its entirety." "Nobody's perfect after all." "That's right. Just like how there's no such a thing as a perfect sentence." Juho thought about Yun Seo's pupils. Geun Woo, he wore a depressed look at all times, regretting on a daily basis. Joon Soo, he was somewhat obsessed with the number three. In that case, did that mean that Juho, who Yun Seo had grown fond of, was rough around the edges in some way? It was likely. After all, he too was a person. That also applied just as much to Hyun Do, who was a figure of respect for all authors. From that point of view, perfection didn't seem all that desirable. If anything, Juho no longer wanted to be a perfect person. With that, he picked up one of the pieces of tomato that had made a perfect triangle and put it in his mouth. Another subject came to mind about the number three. "There's also the three brothers from 'The Mirror.'" The three brothers who the old man had peeked at. The eldest had been greedy and foolish, coming up with rules that only worked to his advantage. Though the two younger brothers complained, the eldest didn't budge. When he lost even with the rules that gave him an advantage, he didn't hesitate to contradict himself. In such a hypocritical world, the two younger brothers weren't the only people who were unhappy. "In the end, the eldest gets ostracized by his two brothers. Just as the old man wanted." Hyun Do nodded quietly. "Then, he loses his family." As he celebrated the misfortune of the eldest of the three in his heart, the old man received a phone call, announcing his solitude. There was no longer anyone around him to listen to him, except for himself in the mirror. "It was merciless," said Juho. Cruel. He had wanted someone to show mercy to both the eldest of the three and the old man. Because he had been so emotionally invested in the old man, Juho always became immersed in those feelings. "Hm." The creator who had been responsible for such a merciless story was sitting peacefully in front of him. "While we're at it, I'd like to hear your interpretation," said Hyun Do, his eyes filled with interest. "Where is it?" It was the old man's monologue. At the end of the book, the old man asked himself. "Where is it?" He was asking for his location. It signified his identity being shaken to the core. The book came to its unfortunate end without getting into too much detail about how things turned out for the old man. 'What happened to the old man afterwards?' Juho had asked himself. Ever since his first read of Hyun Do's book, he had expected the demise of the old man. Taking a fork, he mushed the two remaining pieces of tomato. Its juices gushed out. "I'm assuming he died." "Why is that?" Hyun Do asked. "People aren't made to live in solitude." "Did you ever think that another person might appear?" "I did. I even thought about him starting a new family after falling in love all over again, but I think that's a little sad." "What would make it sad?" "The fact that the stubborn old man was disappearing. He kind of grew on me, so I wanted him to be around. If he couldn't die, then it'd be better for him to live in his home alone." "Don't you feel bad for the old man? That sounds kind of selfish," said Hyun Do, smiling. Juho's interpretation had no regards for the old man's point of view. However, starting a new family didn't seem like it would make the old man happy. Though he didn't have any basis for his thoughts, that had been Juho's understanding of the old man. Bringing the remaining pieces of tomato he had mashed up previously to his mouth, Juho said to Hyun Do, "A reader gets the privilege of being selfish." Hyun Do admitted it with calm eyes, "Now, should we get some dessert?" With that, the meal came to an end. Having been excused, Juho made his way to the restroom. Talking with Hyun Do had been an odd experience. Though he had felt comfortable in the moment, in hindsight, he learned that he was rather worn out, which meant that he had spent a lot of energy trying to keep up with Hyun Do. 'Buzz,' his phone rang as he washed his hands. It was a curious text from Seo Joong. As he was in the process of writing a quick reply, Juho remembered what Seo Joong had said about the restaurant, "That place is well-known among authors." He had also told Juho that he might run into a famous author if he was lucky. As he walked out of the restroom, he secretely looked around the interior of the restaurant. Unfortunately, he couldn't see anything but the customers' backs from where he was. He was about to quietly go back to his table, when… "I'm happy!" A shout sounded from the ladies' room. He stopped in his tracks at the sound of the excited voice. "OK. I'll be quiet, but really. I saw Mr. Hyun Do Lim! I'd never met him in person before! It'd be rude to try to talk to him right? I want his autograph so bad! Please, stop me." The woman sounded rather excited. She had to be Hyun Do's fan. "This world is worth living in after all. Are you jealous? Haha! I can think back to this day and write for at least a couple more years!" It sounded like she was also a writer. Juho became curious about the kinds of things the woman wrote and decided to stick around a little longer to listen to her. "But I didn't just see Mr. Lim." 'Was there another author here?' Juho wondered as he tried look in the direction of his table. "There was another person. Yes, it's possible, but I never said it was anything weird. He was young too. Now, I can't just sit here and not think about this." She was talking about Juho. She cleared her throat. "On the outside, he seemed to be a high school student. He came into the restaurant around eleven in the morning, and judging from his observant attitude, it seemed to be his first time here. Madame Song seemed a lot more excited than usual, so he must be no ordinary guest. Besides, he's with Mr. Lim. Doesn't that paint a picture?" Juho grew somewhat anxious. It felt like she was about to bring up the name "Yun Woo." Suddenly, she stopped talking. Instead, she started to beg the person on the phone to listen. "Hold on, I'll get to the point. So, the person Mr. Lim was with would be no other than…!" No other than… "His own family!" Juho chuckled. Her reasoning had been less than impressive. 'Nope. I'm not a family member.' No matter how many times he repeated himself, it wouldn't have reached her. With that, Juho made his way back to the table. As he went into the private room, he saw that the desserts had already come out - fresh fruit juice and herbal tea. The tea was in front of Hyun Do, while the cup of juice had been placed on Juho's side of the table. He took a sip of the juice. Because it had been blended with ice, it was rather refreshing. After having been in a somewhat heated situation, the juice also had a calming effect on him. He wondered if the silence between the conversations was Hyun Do's way of providing a place for him to rest. He took another refreshing sip.

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91 Chapter 91 - A Long-Awaited Encounter 6

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Fingers gently holding the cup. Shoulders that were not overly relaxed. A straight posture. Juho could see why Hyun Do Lim was such a respected figure among authors. It had nothing to do with his appearance or books. He knew how to be considerate of others. While maintaining his boundaries, he understood what others wanted, creating a safe and comfortable environment for them. He never opened himself up rashly. He wasn't in the habit of showing off, trying to prove himself. He was charming, but not very approachable. The only thing left, was respect. Before there was even time to chew, the icy bits in Juho's mouth melted away. In no time at all, there was nothing left in his cup. "Finished?" "Yes." "Shall we?" As they walked out of the room, Juho felt a gaze in his direction. Though he had an idea from whom it could be, he made his way through the hallway without looking around. "How was your meal?" asked Madame Song, who was standing by the cash register. She must have wanted to see Hyun Do out. "It was great! I'm happy I know about this place," answered Juho, smiling. "I'm glad to hear that," Madame Song answered, looking in his direction. She seemed like she had something she wanted to ask. While Juho hesitated, Hyun Do stepped in and asked, "What is it?" "So…" She hesitated, resting her hand on her cheek. She really looked like a cub. "You're not…Yun Woo, are you?" she asked in a whisper. "It's just… Hyun Do never brings anyone to the restaurant with him, and you don't seem to be older than a high school student. Yun Woo is the only author I know who is around your age, so… am I right?" Her eyes sparkled with anticipation. Her reasoning skills seemed to be much better than those of Hyun Do's fan. Juho glanced over at Hyun Do, who was observing Juho's behavior. With that, Juho turned his attention back to Madame Song and her cub-like appearance. 'Maybe that's why she's still around Mr. Lim. She might let her curiosity get the best of her, but she never expressed herself in a way that was offensive.' Like her, he lowered his voice to a whisper and asked, "Would you mind keeping it on the down low?" Her eyes widened with surprise, taking turns looking at Hyun Do and Juho. "Shall we?" Hyun Do suggested, leaving her behind. As he followed Hyun Do, Juho turned around to say goodbye, "Take care, ma'am." "Come get what you like next time you're here!" said Madame Song. "Yes, ma'am," Juho answered. The food had been to his liking, so he wanted to come back whenever he had the opportunity. Together, Hyun Do and Juho went back the way they came. Leaving the luxurious exterior of the restaurant behind, they walked through a narrow alleyway and out to the main street. "You must have taken the subway." "Yes, sir." "I'll walk you to the station." Although it wasn't necessary, Juho didn't want to decline Hyun Do's offer. Though he was walking side by side to Hyun Do, he didn't really feel anything. The street was filled with the sounds of cars and people, but it all felt distant. Usually, he would have taken his time walking, observing every little corner of the streets in search of inspiration. He would have untangled the noise around him, digging for emotions and conflict. If anything, walking beside Hyun Do felt peaceful. Perhaps his immense presence had something to do with it. It would take something just as large and powerful to bring down that wall of tranquility. Upon arriving at the entrance to the station, Juho thanked him, "Thank you for everything. I had a great time today." "The pleasure's mine," said Hyun Do, looking in Juho's direction. "Are you planning on writing when you get home?" he asked. Because Juho couldn't really grasp the intention behind the question, he decided to answer honestly, "Yes, sir." "What are you planning to write about?" "I'm not sure yet." "Hm," he made a distinct sound and added, "Kids, sometimes…" Juho wasn't entirely sure who he was referring to, but he listened carefully anyway. "... tend to hate certain foods without even tasting them. When you ask them, it's usually because they don't like how it tastes. It's fascinating. How can they know the flavor when the food hasn't even touched their lips?" "You can kind of guess, especially with food that looks mushy and squishy. Kids are sensitive, so they're able to catch on quickly." Hyun Do nodded lightly and said, "You said you're not a picky eater, right?" "Yes, sir." "Then, I'm sure it won't hurt to try other foods." "..." Juho remained silent for a while. He knew Hyun Do wasn't talking about food. Hyun Do's eyes were fixated on Juho's shoulders, and Juho studied his eyes. "Your shoulders look tense." Juho immediately stretched his shoulders. "Don't be nervous about tasting new things. After all, I'm sure you'll be able to digest it all, no matter what it is." After a quick time thinking, Juho asked, "Do you have a suggestion in mind?" "I can't stand giving testimonials. You're on your own," said Hyun Do, chuckling. Juho had heard from Nam Kyung that Hyun Do had turned down his testimonial request. With those words, Juho bowed to say goodbye. Watching Hyun Do calmly going about his way, Juho slowly made his way down the stairs into the station. As he entered the dark, his footsteps grew louder. Midway, he looked back. Somehow, the sky peeking through a small opening resembled Hyun Do's black and silver hair. It almost looked like he was standing in snow. Looking away, Juho continued on his way in search of food he had yet to try. "Oh, yeah! I forgot about the autograph." * Yun Seo watered the plants in her small vegetable garden. The water droplets shone brightly on the fresh vegetables. Sitting down on the dirt, she watched an ant crawling by. "What's the hurry, little one?" The ant was taking a dead worm back to its nest. For the first time in a long time, she had the day to herself. There was no class, and both of her pupils were out. She no longer wrote novels since she had started feeling that she had used up all she had as an author. She no longer had the strength to write anything elaborate. However, she felt more relieved than sad. It was the satisfaction of having poured everything out, writing as much as she could. Now, the only thing she wrote about was her everyday life, which piled higher with age. 'Maybe I should try writing an essay when I'm even older,' she thought. Writing about her garden wouldn't be so bad either. 'Maybe I should go on trips before it's too late, so I can write about it." 'Bark!' A dog barked in the distance. It had to be the large dog that lived nearby. Though the breed wasn't clear, it was a rather adorable dog with a spot that covered its right eye. Whenever she heard it bark, Yun Seo thought of her husband - an author who had had the ability to raise the spirits of his readers with his writing. Lately, she had been reminded of one more person. Having already published his second book recently, he was still a young author… … Yun Woo. He had many similarities to her husband, who had passed away at an early age. A sixteen-year-old boy. An award-winning, celebrity author. Her pupils had also mentioned his name on several occasions. At first, she had read his book out of nothing more than curiosity, but the young author drew out a sense of longing in her heart. It had been fascinating. Despite the distinct styles and atmosphere of the two authors, their writing kept overlapping in her mind. When she read Yun Woo's writing for the third time, she finally came to realize why. They both had a similar approach to writing. Hyun Do had felt the same way when she shared it with him. He had said, "It'll be a while before his next book comes out. It takes time for a writer to gather that much emotion to the point of reaching the bottom." The ant kept crawling by. When she first met Yun Woo, he had already been working on his next book, nearing its completion. Before reaching the one year mark of his debut title, his new book was published. The world was filled with Yun Woo now, and she was somewhat delighted by her friend's misjudgment. "What's so funny?" Yun Seo looked back. The voice belonged to her friend, who kept looking better with age. "I was thinking about my husband." "Then, it makes sense that you're smiling." Hyun Do tended to be mischievous at the mention of Yun Seo's husband. Despite that, she kept bring up her husband to him. Perhaps she was entertained by it somehow. Because of Hyun Do, her memories of her husband had remained intact, even decades after his passing. "How's Madame Song?" she asked. "She's fine." Madame Song's food was an amazing source of energy. When Hyun Do was busy writing, he ate there regularly. Even after he finished a book, he ate there to reward himself for completing the long journey. Somehow, Madame Song's appearance resembled that of a bear cub. Upon hearing about it, Yun Seo had exclaimed cheerfully, "That's such an adorable nickname!" "It's been a while since you've been there. Next time, we'll go together." "If I have time." "Look at you sounding all busy," The two sat on the wooden bench, and the wind blew gently on the leaves. "So, how was it talking with Yun Woo?" she asked. "It was fun. We spoke a similar language." He seemed genuinely happy, and she stared at that unusual sight. "What else?" "He's a light eater." "That can't be right. He has a good appetite. I saw him eat when he came over." Despite her puzzled look, Hyun Do continued, "It's not like me to do it, but I did give him advice." "What kind of advice?" "I told him to be more versatile." Versatile. "It hasn't been that long since his new book came out. It can't hurt to let him rest for a bit," said Yun Seo, concerned. "He doesn't think of writing as work. If anything, it's closer to rest. It's a digestive process." Digestive process. It was an analogy her husband had used frequently. He liked to compare his writing to digesting. Hearing that familiar expression, she couldn't help but laugh. "You were so annoyed then, saying that it was overly complicated!" "I still don't like it. I'm just coming to understand it now," he said. "All right. Are you sticking around for dinner? I'll cook." "You should rest while you can. Joon Soo and Geun Woo don't seem to be around today either." "Better to have more than less." Regrets about not leaving enough memories tended to sting more. Facing the end was always sad. Reminiscing the friendship they had had while her husband was still alive, she stood up and said, "I should probably make enough for three. Nothing's sadder than not having enough to eat." Hyun Do didn't say anything in return.

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92 Chapter 92 - One Long, One Short 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "OK. What did I say was the beginning of a novel?" "Asking questions!" Sun Hwa answered quickly. As of late, the club activities had been made entirely of learning various theories on writing. The room was filled with excitement. "Then, try to decide what you want to write about. There are no limits. I don't care if it's a short story or a full-length novel, as long as you're confident that you can write it within half a year." "Yes, Mr. Moon!" everyone exclaimed with enthusiasm. With that, he walked over to the window toward the hallway, and then to another toward the schoolyard. He was creating an environment optimized for thinking. A refreshing breeze blew into the room. From his seat, Baron quietly sketched what he saw. The pencil moved about busily on his sketchbook. After Mr. Moon stepped out of the room, the club members quietly closed their eyes. Juho was alone in his mind. Hyun Do had challenged him to go out and "taste" different things. That challenge motivated him to seek after something new. 'How can I make something new?' he thought. After a long chain of questions, he eventually found himself in a maze. 'What's new? What's not new? Because we get used to what's new, wouldn't that mean there isn't such a thing as new?' 'Rustle.' The breeze blew on the pages on his desk, making them flap lifelessly. 'A new page. Is this what I want? What does the word "new" mean to me?' Juho kept thinking. "New" meant something that didn't exist in the past. In terms of writing, it was the beginning of an occurrence. In terms of a person, a fetus. In terms of the Korean language, it was before the invention of the language in December of 1443. A new story. A new life. A new language. All of those things didn't exist in the past. In that case, creative writing in and of itself was the process of creating something new, which would render thinking useless. All he had to do to create something new was to keep writing. Juho didn't feel content with the conclusion. He wanted to wrestle with his thoughts some more. Something more colorful. Something a little more foreign to him. Something different from the norm. 'What else is there?' Places he had never been. Things he had never seen. Juho closed his eyes briefly, and then opened them. Nothing had changed. The same old room came into view. The same old club members and their same old seats. 'Is there no way I can think of anything new in here?' Juho felt his shoulders. They were more tense than usual. 'I should try to relax.' After some time, the club members started to reach a decision on what they wanted to write. However, Juho was still staring dazedly out the window. "Do you want to get tteokbokki with us?" asked Sun Hwa. Everyone else was deciding on what to get at the snack shop, but Juho shook his head slowly. "No, thanks. I have to be somewhere." "Eh? Where?" While briefly staring at the ceiling, Juho's lips parted, and he announced, "The beach." "... Eh?" Leaving a puzzled Sun Hwa behind, Juho left the science room before anyone else. He took out his phone on his way out of the school. The first method of transportation he thought of was the subway. He'd be able to reach the Incheon shore in about two hours. Leaving a text for his mother, Juho made his way into the station. "Next station is…" a voice sounded from the speakers in the station. The train came, and its doors slid open. Those who had arrived came out of the train while those who were leaving went into it. Looking at the gap between the platform and the train, Juho walked in. As the doors closed with a loud hiss, he found himself a seat. The train started moving. While the train shook, a smile spread across his face. He had left for a sudden adventure in order to see something new. To be in a new place. Once he put his heart into it, everything fell into place with ease. At an incredible speed, the train moved toward the next station, roaring loudly. Juho looked out the window from his seat as he checked for his stop. He was about thirty stops away. There was plenty of time to think. He leaned back on the backrest. The handles shook just as his body did. Leaning his head against the window, he felt the vibrations of the train. Everything shook. Going somewhere felt like it involved being shaken countless times. The train came to a stop. Once the doors opened and closed, it started moving again. It was a sight he would be seeing repeatedly. He felt a cold, artificial breeze blowing from the ceiling. With his eyes closed, he felt all of the movement around him. 'Clonk, clonk.' It sounded like the world was about to come to an end. The same sound came from within the train. After some time, it got rather cold in the train. The coldness pierced into Juho's nose. It was different from the breeze he had felt in the science room. His senses were being disrupted by the artificial breeze. It told him that he was getting farther from nature. A person walked past, followed by a cold breeze. 'It's a made up breeze. Does that make it new?' he thought. The train came to a stop once again, and the doors opened and closed. Soon, the train started moving again. Eventually, it reached a frightening speed, and Juho felt somewhat anxious. 'What if I feel dizzy? What if I feel queasy and throw up? I don't want to be seen vomiting…' he thought. He got used to the vibration and the cold. 'Does this mean there's nothing's new in here anymore?' He tried holding his breath. Still, the train kept moving. He was the only thing still while everything around him vibrated. 'Clonk, clonk,' the train shouted noisily as it raced through the dark tunnel. Familiarity removed emotion and the need for thinking. It also removed anxiety, as well as joy and expectation. There was nothing left in the train. Nothing to get used to. None of the things he had gotten used to were in the train. 'Why am I in here again? Why am I going forward?' He couldn't remember. The train stopped, the doors opening and closing. Then it started moving again, as it always had. He felt the train rock and saw the handles shake. As it rushed past the dark shadows, the coldness started to pierce through his body. When he couldn't hold any longer, he breathed out, taking a deep breath. He smelled the fragrance of the ocean. "Next station is…" Yet again, the train came to a stop, and the doors slid open. Juho walked out of the cold space within the train, looking back. The train had already closed its mouth, heading toward the next station. Without hesitation, Juho went on his way. "The beach," Juho murmured, looking at the enormous puddle before his eyes. Wavelets rushed in his direction. The salty breeze ruffled through his hair. As he pushed the hair out of his face, he walked toward the water, getting closer. The sand under his feet felt all the more foreign. Green seaweed covered the beach. In reality, the beach was no more than a beach. Juho didn't feel anything new, except for the hair tickling his face. "Haha!" With an hollow laugh, he sat down on the sand. The wave rushed up to the very tip of his shoes. The sand somehow ended up in his mouth, making him have to spit it out. He stared out at the horizon as the sun sank lower and lower. Time passed. Although he'd come a long way, he didn't feel all that different. If anything, he found himself feeling overwhelmed by the majestic water, stretching endlessly at the horizon like the sky. 'What can I get out of this place?' At that moment, a large seagull flew by, crying. The place was filled with oversized things. Enormous. Wide. Vast. "Hm?" Juho felt that he was at the brink of inspiration. He looked around at his surroundings. The sea, the sky, sand, seagull. Everything was large, making it hard to fit it all in a glance. There wasn't anything like it where he was from. Everything there fit in a single glance, even for the highest of buildings. All it took to see the top was to look up. Juho thought back to the things he had written so far. Yun spent most of his life at home. The mother and her son also lived within a contained space. Something new. Immense scenery. Purpose and travel. If he were to put it all into writing… "Fantasy." It would have to be fantasy. A journey with a purpose in search of things that did not yet exist in the present. For some reason, he felt glad about the word that he had just spat out. It would be a different world. The thought alone was enough to excite him. A world simply too big to take on. That's what he wanted to write about. Energized, Juho clenched his hands into fists. Grains of sand rushed into his palms and out between his fingers. "This is small." There was something new in that scenery after all. Small grains of sand. Limp seaweed. The seafoam that could never reach Juho's shoes. Not everything was grand and enormous. "I want to write about this too," he murmured as he quietly counted the grains of sand in his hand. There were two things he wanted to write about now. A story that resembled the sea and the sand. One long, one short. 'Should I try writing two separate stories?' Juho thought, closing his eyes. "No." A voice sounded nearby, and Juho turned to look. There was a woman burying her head in the sand. "Don't write about me." Thin and soft, the voice almost sounded like it would be lost in the wind. As Juho was about to approach her, another voice sounded behind him. "Pathetic." It sounded cocky, and less than pleasant. A tall, well-dressed man looked down at the woman in the sand. "If you don't like it, you're more than welcome to leave." The woman dug deeper into the sand. "Are you ignoring me?" "No." "What?" "I said no." "I can't hear a thing. My ears must be full of sand." She no longer tried to communicate with the man, but Juho interjected, "Hey! Cut it out. There's no need to be rude. Are you hangry or something?" The man didn't hesitate to show his displeasure. "Did you call me just so you could joke around?" "Without humor, we'd living in one boring world, my friend." The man scoffed arrogantly. "You don't need crap like that when you're traveling." "You think so?" The silk on his body fluttered around in the wind. "You're kind of arrogant," Juho said after observing him quietly. "I deserve to be." Ignoring the man, Juho looked to his left. The woman was walking away. "Where you goin'?" She jumped in place. Her long, untidy hair covered most of her face. Long-sleeved shirt. Long pants. It all looked too warm for the weather. "It's hot, isn't it?" The woman didn't say anything or try to run away. She was barely capable of communicating with other people. Her personality contrasted with her wide, open surroundings. The man, too, was standing quietly in his place. The waves were breaking briskly. Suddenly, Juho chimed up, "Should we all go into the water or something?" The man frowned at Juho's suggestion. "This water exists so that we can cross it. It's a way for us to see something bigger." As unlike as it was of his rude personality, he gave a rather substantial answer.

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93 Chapter 93 - One Long, One Short 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl While the man's words were still fresh on his mind, Juho turned toward the woman. With a stutter, she answered the man timidly, "I'm… not g-going any-anywhere." 'That's a good answer too,' Juho thought. Though he accepted her answer, the man seemed rather displeased by the woman's attitude. "What the hell is wrong with her?" "What the hell is wrong with you?" "What?" "Why are you being so nitpicky?" "Because I can't understand her. I can't stand her." The wind blew violently on his shiny hair. He seemed to have a lot to complain about. "What can't you stand about her?" "Her behavior and attitude. She's wasting time." His behavior and attitude hadn't been so great either. Chuckling, Juho fired back, "That's your point of view. Have you ever thought of it as her way of utilizing her time?" "No," he answered without hesitation, storming past Juho toward the woman. "Hey, what's your name?" She didn't respond. Suddenly, without introducing himself, the man put his face recklessly right up against the woman's. "Hey!" he said intimidatingly. "Listen carefully, lady. Squatting like that not only makes you look pathetic, but it's terrible for your back." "..." "Hey, lady!" He stared at her up and down as she sat quietly, not responding to him. "Did you do something wrong?" Her head turned toward him ever so slightly, glaring fiercely. Having a timid voice didn't necessarily mean that she wasn't capable of being angry. Though he saw the disapproval in her eyes, the man didn't back down. "Then, why can't you be more confident?" "I am… I'm just not in the mood to talk… You're treating me like a criminal. I know I should have said something…" she said timidly, not enunciating her words clearly. Though it was hard to make out what she was saying, Juho still felt angry. When he looked in her direction, she was holding a handful of sand. Predicting what she would do next, Juho jumped in between them. At that moment, she swung her arms in his direction. He felt the sand grains on the back of his head, rolling down his neck into his shirt. The woman swallowed nervously. While Juho comforted her, the man smiled as if he welcomed her behavior. Juho had to stop them before things got too rough. "All right you two, cut it out." "What the!?" 'I better separate them. They're affecting each other,' Juho thought. Too much of anything wasn't a good thing. Again, he stood between the man and the woman, creating a gap about as wide as the one between a train and the platform. "Hey! You listen lady. I said I don't understand you. Why aren't you communicating with me? If you're pissed, then show me!" Despite the distance, the man shouted all the more. The woman, however, had returned to her silence. "Haven't you had enough for one day?" Juho asked the man, who was infuriated, unlike the woman, who hid behind her silence. "She's ignoring me!" "You don't need to yell!" He was rather impolite, and Juho added as he covered the man's mouth with his hand, "That's enough. You're from another world, which means you should speak in another language." By the time he had shook Juho's hands off, it was too late. He could no longer understand what the woman was saying. In order to get a better grasp on the situation, he took a step back. At that moment, Juho took the opportunity to talk to the woman. "Tell me what you want." He fully intended on realizing her deepest wishes. He wanted to write in a way that she would find desirable. In order to make that happen, he called out to her. After a brief moment of hesitation, she said, "Please, leave me alone." "You got it." 'So be it.' If that was what she wanted, then Juho was more than prepared to write about her quiet everyday life, where nothing really happened. No danger. No climax. Simply as it was. Seeing Juho readily accepting her answer, she felt a little safer and opened up. "It's fine, just… write the way you want to." "Sounds good. I like that we're being considerate of each other." She nodded quietly. "You can say more, you know." The wind blew on the sand, "Then… please don't… write about me… too much…" "I'll keep it short." "I… am not fond… of talking to… people." "I'll make sure you don't have to talk to anyone," Juho answered light-heartedly. The woman asked timidly while studying his expression, "... Can I not… really?" "Why not?" A weak, barely noticeable smile spread across her face. "I hope… you… don't try… to change… me. I d-don't want to… change." "Sure." "And…" She hesitated for a good while. When Juho started to see signs of her retreating to her silence, he gave her a gentle nudge. "And?" "And…" She seemed embarrassed. 'What does she want?' thought Juho. Her eyes were fixated on the water. "I… want… to be b-back here…" She must have been fond of the beach. "Of course. That's not hard at all." "I… want to… come alone." "Yeah, I don't blame ya. It was a little rowdy today," said Juho, glancing over at the man. At the sight of her nodding timidly, his face scrunched up all the more. "How should I dress you? It's a gift. Tell me whatever you'd like to wear." "I… like pants." "It'll get cold at night." "I'll… bring my blanket… from my… my place." "I'm guessing you're not in the habit of wearing makeup? "No… I just… want to… come as I am." The wind picked up, blowing the hair that covered her face aside. Then, the wind blew again, but over the sand this time. Juho closed his eyes from the sudden sandstorm. "Bye… now…" With those faint words, she vanished from the beach. Staring at the place where she had been, Juho turned toward the man. He stood quietly, still looking displeased. Then, he opened his mouth and asked, "You have something for me too, right?" Juho grinned and said, "You understood, didn't you?" The man answered proudly, "You just gotta listen." "You're sensitive to languages, like me." "Don't you give me that crap," the man snapped at Juho, and his face scrunched up even more into a scowl. "How about you work on some anger management?" "People don't change." "Nothing lasts forever." Looking puzzled, he raised an eyebrow. "That's not what you said to that lady earlier." "What is?" "You said you'll keep her from changing." "That, I did." She had asked Juho not to change her in his writing, and Juho had granted her wishes, so the man looked even more puzzled. "Are you contradicting yourself? Were you lying to her?" "Nonsense. I intend on keeping every word I said to her." Juho added as the man stayed hopelessly confused, "People don't change. Nothing lasts forever. They're both right. They're both what people want to hear." There was no right or wrong in neither statement. In this case, one's belief became the truth. "That's why I called for you both," Juho said to the man. "I'm writing about you both." One who longed for the present to last for an eternity. One who realized nothing lasts forever. He wanted to write about both of those people. One short. One full-length. A peaceful daily life on one book, and a perilous adventure on the other. Together. Alone. "The story is part of her life, and not wanting to change is what she wants. Everyone longs for something to last forever." In the end, the man and the woman crossed paths eventually. Everybody longed for something to remain unchanged. "... But everyone grows old. We all die eventually," he snapped. "Are you contradicting yourself?" The man didn't give him an answer. He started aging slowly, growing slightly shorter, his voice sinking. His once luxurious clothes became somewhat old and ragged. Though his eyes remained sharp and fierce, his glare lost its edge. He seemed disappointed by something. He had changed. "Nothing lasts forever," he said calmly. "You think so?" "Time's ticking as we speak. Before you know it, death draws near." Juho felt the air the surrounding the man changing with the wind. "When will I stop being human?" he had to be talking about changing. "Are you afraid?" Juho asked. Time flowed by mercilessly. Wearing an ambiguous look, the man answered, "Not really." Although it was hard to tell if he really meant it, Juho decided to play along. "I wonder what I should be doing then?" Irritated, the man threw his head back and said, "Pray to God or something!" He was no longer irritable or raging uncontrollably or taking somebody by their collar. He had grown more mature, but his temper still remained intact deep within. Juho felt the wave on his shoes as it were rushing toward him. Though it couldn't reach him earlier, it started to rush past his ankle now, making his feet cold. He moved away from the wave to where it wouldn't be able to reach him. Before he knew it, he was alone. The woman and the man were nowhere to be found. The sun started to set, and the dark approached. The wave grew taller, wetting the sand. Juho sat there and watched the scenery quietly. --- The door opened and closed. With that, the train started off again. "Mom, what's he doing?" "Ah, he's doing homework. Let's be quiet now." Being completely oblivious to the conversation between the mother and her young son sitting next to him, Juho kept writing away. He had been carrying his notepad and manuscript paper in his bag at all times, as well as writing tools, so he didn't have to worry about running out of paper. First, he started writing about the woman at the beach. 'Another day of longing for things to remain unchanged forever. It was the monologue of a woman who had made an impulsive trip to the beach, wearing a dress given to her as a gift. She didn't talk to anyone. On her way to there, when she bought herself a bottle of water, during the day, at night, whenever hot or cold, she had always been alone, even as she longed for something that would last forever. Though she crossed paths with countless people, she kept to herself, going about her way, alone.' The train stopped; the doors opened and closed, and it started off again. It took in people while sending them away simultaneously. Juho felt his feet growing colder. The wet spot on his shoes was disappearing while the water evaporated. He thought back to the scenery he last saw. Everything came alive again. The salty air. Waves breaking. The boundless horizon. It had all been intact, and it would be an everlasting memory. He moved his pen busily, writing about what he wanted to write about as well as what needed to be written. 'Is this new? Will I get used to this?' There was no need to ask such questions anymore. Writing was his greatest joy. 'It's time to let go of my greed. I need to focus on writing.' He fully intended on putting his heart and soul into it. The corners of his mouth turned. When something unclear began to take shape, that was when joy came rushing into his heart. By the time Juho stopped writing, his stop was long gone.

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94 Chapter 94 - Parents, Creator, Myself

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Mr.Moon examined the plots the club members had come up with and their structures. Seo Kwang wanted to write about the history of books while Sun Hwa wanted to write about the life of a celebrity. Bom had decided to write about a child who had just begun to stand on his own two feet, and Juho had decided on the daily life of a woman who made a trip to the beach. "So, I'm guessing you all thought of the characters for your story?" Mr. Moon asked the club members sitting in front of him. Everyone answered, "Yes." "Today, we're going to give them as much shape as possible." Everyone looked at him with excitement and anticipation. They would be giving their characters a personality. Creating a character was a fun process, but there were exceptions. "Characters are important. Sometimes, they even affect the direction of the development of the plot. Think about what you want to express in your respective stories and think of a character who would best represent that." "That sounds hard," grumbled Seo Kwang. After a brief, momentary thought, Mr. Moon gave a simpler explanation, "You're all parents." "Huh?" "Your characters would be your children." "... Eh?" Author, parents. Characters, children. Mr. Moon continued with his explanation, "Think about your parents. What do they for you?" "Uh… Lot's of things," said Sun Hwa, looking puzzled. She had to have received a lot from her parents in her upbringing. "That's right. You guys, need to treat your characters the same way." Juho thought about what he had received from his parents. 'Everything.' From his uniform to the slippers he was wearing, everything had come from his parents. The hand he wrote with, the brain he used to think, everything had come from them. "Parents." The club members still seemed to be at a loss. After all, they were all children of their parents. Though grateful toward them, they didn't quite understand what it meant to be a son or a daughter. Their confusion was natural. Examining the look on everyone's face, Mr. Moon took some time to think before giving them an even simpler explanation. "How about this? If it's hard for you think from your parents' perspective, be the creator. That's kind of cool, isn't it? You guys, are making a person. A creator gives different talents and characteristics to his creation." "The creator…" "It does sound cooler, but it doesn't make it easier." In fact, it had made it harder for them to understand, so Mr. Moon thought some more and said, "That's it! Think 'me.'" "As in you, Mr. Moon?" "Yourselves. The writer." As Seo Kwang was about to ask another question, Mr. Moon raised his hand, indicating that he wasn't finished. "What would it feel like to hold hands with my character? How would they answer my questions? How would they respond to a certain situation? How detailed or vocal your characters are would depend on the writer. Since you guys are beginners, you won't be able to get much further than getting really ambiguous answers. So, just think from 'my' perspective. You all know how your hand feels, right?" "That's because the writer isn't skilled enough. I'd be frustrated," complained Sun Hwa. "You're still a beginner," answered Seo Kwang. It sounded like an answer Mr. Moon would give, but for some reason, he waved his hand in denial. "Treating your character as your own self is a very author-like way of thinking. At the end of the day, a novel can't escape the limits of exploring the existence that is 'me.' You're writing about a person and their life. As a parent, creator or an author, you are distinctively you." Juho nodded quietly. "..." "Uh… Hm, right," said Bom, chuckling awkwardly. The club members seemed all the more lost, and Juho smiled internally. There really was no way to get around the matter. The more the author thought about and dug into his novel, the more they tended to tread into the territory of identity and metaphysics. 'Clap! Clap!' Suddenly, Mr. Moon clapped twice while sitting quietly. He was probably having trouble with his explanations. "Anyway, today, you're going to create your own characters," he changed the subject, emphasizing on characters alone while setting everything he had said very far aside. "Every single one of your characters is alive," he emphasized. The club members listened intently, telling themselves that they were writing about a live person in their minds. "As long as a character is alive, that means that there's a reason behind the things they do or say in the novel." "A reason?" "That's right. Why are we here?" "Uh… Hm… Maybe… to go college?" "To be happy, all of us," said Mr. Moon. "What you're about to write, it won't help with college in any way. It won't bring your grades up either. YET, you guys are working hard. Even now, you guys are on fire to learn more and write better. Why?" "Because it's fun," said Bom. "I love writing." "I want to write." "It helps me reach my goal." The other club members added to Bom's statement. Whether emotional or rational, everyone had a reason. "See? Everyone has an answer. It's the same with your characters. They move about because they have their own reason to." Pausing briefly, Mr. Moon looked around. "OK, let's say I kill a person." "Huh!?" "Ah, assuming that I'm a fictional character," explained Mr. Moon, waving his hand to mimic swinging a knife. Juho watched his hand carefully. "Stab." The members imagined the gut-wrenching sound of a knife piercing through skin. Mr. Moon had just killed someone. Of course, his knifeless hand was swinging in thin air. "This doesn't leave you with any impressions. Why?" "Because there is no reason for it," said the club members, applying what they had just learned. "That's right. It's because there was no explanation as to why I did what I did. Again, your characters are alive, and they do things for a reason. There's always a reason. It's just that we can't express it for them. Parents! Are you planning on raising a child who's a boring killjoy? The almighty creator, are you intending on leaving your creations confused? Aren't you all going to explain yourselves?" "No!" the members exclaimed. "That's right. You have to protect yourselves with everything you've got. 'I will reciprocate as much love as you show me. I'll tell you what you want to hear. Or, maybe I can show you something unimaginable.'" "I'm kind of getting goosebumps." "As you can see, creating a character is not easy." "I didn't mean it lik…" "Got it? Now, think about a character that would suit the events in your stories," Mr. Moon interjected. "Sounds complicated." "Try to enjoy it. You'll get the hang of it." With a sigh and a pens in hand, everyone glared at their notebooks. When Mr. Moon finished speaking, the room sunk into silence. Only the air lingered about. Juho thought, 'What do I do? I've already met her, and I already know her personality. I know her reason for her actions and behavior. I know what she wants and where she wants to be in life.' With those thoughts, he quietly raised his hand. "Yeah?" asked Mr. Moon. Juho's voice broke the silence, "If I've already heard an answer from my character, can I just start writing?" "... Bring it here." Juho took his paper over to Mr. Moon. All eyes were on him as he walked toward the teacher. Slowly, Mr. Moon immersed himself in the world Juho had created. Though it was incomplete, things were bound to change down the line. New things would come up as others would get taken out. "Ha…!" Mr. Moon laughed. "When did you write this?" "Eh, this is nothing. Besides, it's short," said Juho. "Have you thought about how you want to end it?" Mr. Moon asked carefully. Juho had a history of writing ridiculous endings. "Vaguely. Things are still blurry," Juho said, shrugging. "Try to be more intentional this time, will you?" "I've told you, it's not that simple." "Try anyway. Starting with the next time we meet, write in the computer room. For now, focus on your ending." "Yes, Mr. Moon." With that, Juho returned to his seat, feeling the uncomfortable gazes of the other club members over him. The first one to speak up was Sun Hwa. "Seriously?" "What?" "Don't act like you don't know." It made sense that she was surprised. Juho had already started writing when everyone else was still busy thinking of a character. Since he had decided to write two separate novels, there was no time to waste. In the end, Juho had no choice but to say, "What can I do? I'm just that good." "You're so shameless." "Haha." "You're laughing? That's cheap. When did you start writing? Cheap shot." "I'm not surprised," said Seo Kwang, resting his chin on his hand. He seemed familiar with Sun Hwa's experience. "Juho can be like that," agreed Bom. It was clearly not a compliment. Suddenly, Seo Kwang clapped loudly as if he had remembered something. "I should write about someone like you!" "I will reciprocate as much love as you show me." "Strike that," said Seo Kwang at once. As Juho poked fun at Seo Kwang, he felt someone looking in his direction and asked, "What is it?" "Nothing," Sun Hwa and Bom said, giving him a peculiar look. "Do you want to write about me?" "I thought about it, but I don't think it'll work out. It's too much." "Yeah, I think so too." They had answered gently, but it had been a resounding "No." At that moment, Seo Kwang pulled Juho's notebook in his direction and asked, "Can I look at this?" "No," another voice answered. Seo Kwang looked in the direction of the voice and protested, "Why not?" "It'll affect your writing. You have to write on your own," warned Mr. Moon, crossing his arms. Until he had finished his own writing, Seo Kwang wouldn't be able to read what Juho had written. "OK." "Alright then, I'm leaving now. Don't look or show." With those words, he made his way to the staffroom. Watching the door open and close, Juho organized his thoughts. Then, Baron raised his voice and asked, "I can look, right?" "That's not fair!" "We want to look too!" "That's really unfair Baron." The three club members protested, but Baron paid them no attention. Willingly, Juho handed him the notebook. "Wow, these people," Sun Hwa grumbled, but Baron took the notebook from Juho's hand, reading it quietly. It was the overall flow of the plot. Although it wasn't long, Baron remained silent for a good while. "... You're writing this?" he murmured. "Is there a problem?" "No, no problem." Baron thought, 'There's no problem, but…' "... Wouldn't it be a little difficult?" Though he was about to go on, Baron stopped himself. He was conscious of other club members. However, Juho had understood more than enough to know what he was trying to ask. A person going to the beach alone, all without an apparent climax or danger. It could easily turn out boring. It would be a challenge to keep it interesting. Yet… "I want to write it, so there's nothing I can do." "... Show it to me when you're done. I'd like to read it." With that, he gave Juho's notebook back to him. To everyone else who was glaring at him with piercing curiosity, Juho added, "If you're so anxious to read it, then all you've got to do is finish your stories." "Punk," said Sun Hwa, who snatched her pen still glaring with her nose on her notebook, she immersed herself in thoughts about the characters for her story. By contrast, Juho reached slowly for his pen. It was time for him to write about the woman at the beach.

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95 Chapter 95 - The Sky is the Sky and the Beach is the Beach 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl As a gift, Juho chose a pair of jeans that was as blue as the sea. Wearing those jeans, the woman decided to make a trip to the beach. They were comfortable, so she wouldn't have trouble sitting down or getting sand on them. With some money and a blanket, she headed for the beach. She walked the same, familiar streets as the day before. Nothing had changed. The convenience store, the grocery store next door, the high school she had graduated from, and the stationery store in front of it. All the stores opened and closed at the exact same time they always had. A student walked out of the school. At a certain time of the day, students in uniform walked past the front gate and ate lunch. Their class started once the bell rang, and it ended once the bell rang again. They left for school before sunrise and didn't go home until sunset. It was almost like being in a cave. If the school was a cave, where was she now? She had left for the beach. First, there was light, and the light was better than the dark. It was warm and beautiful. Yet, she had never learned to enjoy the light. It had to be because she was either too cold of a person, or because the light was simply too hot. "I'm thirsty." Juho looked around his desk littered with paper and writing. The cup was completely dry. After pondering about it, Juho stood up from the chair and made his way to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of cold water. Then, he drank it. The water left a trail of cold sensation in its path. Considering the environment's temperature, it made sense that it felt that cold. When it touched his teeth, the cup made a clicking sound. The water passed through his mouth and into the throat. There was no need to chew. He only needed to let it flow down his esophagus. The woman was growing thirsty as well. She went into the convenience store to buy herself a bottle of water. There was no verbal interaction in the process. The only person talking was the cashier. The woman never answered. That was what she wanted from Juho, and he was intentional about keeping his word. No one was able to hear her voice. She never spoke, but she wasn't lethargic. She headed for the beach, and Juho returned to his room. A character's speech served multiple purposes. On top of being their voice, it was also the voice of the novel. It created ripples like a pebble that was thrown into placid waters. In this short story, however, the protagonist had no voice. As a result, the sounds around her were amplified. In the end, Juho wanted to increase the sound the novel made even more. Her voice would be included then, and she wouldn't have to worry about being separated or left alone. He fully intended to make her feel heard, enabling readers to be able to imagine her voice just through her monologues. Juho pictured the woman in jeans. The character was alive, and obviously, she wore clothes and shoes. Then, she received a gift. Naturally, the gift was given by someone else, which meant that she wasn't alone. Perhaps that was the reason why she didn't want things to change, believing that they would last forever. Perhaps she believed that there were things that didn't change in that world. At least, that's how Juho saw it. 'In that case, will her desires come true? After years had gone by, would she have the same thoughts, still? Wouldn't she still be alone then? What would I need to ask her that question?' Juho thought, closing his eyes. He felt cold water on his feet. The waves were breaking, retreating with white seafoam. Though they rushed toward him with excitement, they were short-lived and retreated timidly, taking some of the sand along. Juho looked down at his feet. There was a pair of footprints on the wet, soft sand. He was at the beach himself - the place that required a two-hour train ride to get to. He was back. Just as before, the place was filled with water and sand. Suddenly, he heard something shattering behind him. Looking back, Juho saw debris that was whiter than the sand on the beach. He was well-acquainted with the sight. After all, he had been the one who had made that mess. "Mr. Agrippa," Juho called to him. However, Mr. Agrippa lacked a mouth, so he couldn't answer. The pieces were buried in the sand about halfway, but Juho picked up what looked like a mouth. 'Click.' "Ptooey!" The mouth spat out sand, coughing and projecting what looked like saliva or sea water. Juho pulled away from the mouth as it coughed violently. As it grew calmer, Juho asked, "Why are you here?" Agrippa's mouth opened, revealing his clean, neat set of teeth. In a deep, resounding voice, he said, "She didn't want to talk, so I volunteered to come instead. Besides, I had something to tell you." "What is it?" "You broke me. So, fix me." "That'd be impossible, unfortunately." There was no way to restore a shattered plaster figure. That was the hard, cold truth. What had already passed couldn't be restored. At Juho's answer, a corner of Agrippa's mouth turned up. Although it had been just his mouth, it was apparent that he was sneering at him. "What are you talking about? Nothing's impossible in writing." "Ah, that's what you meant. I get it now." Like he had said, it would be possible in writing. It would be possible to restore him to his original shape, regardless of the laws of physics and nature. All it would take would be: 'He returned to his original shape.' "There ya go." Agrippa's entire face became visible. Although he was a small bust sculpture, he returned to the shape he was in when Mr. Moon first brought him to the science room. "Satisfied?" "Very well, much better! Now, I can use my entire face to communicate!" "Was it uncomfortable?" "You'll understand once you're in pieces." Though Juho was about to answer "I think I can live without that experience," he stopped himself, remembering that he was the culprit behind shattering Agrippa to pieces. Above, A seagull flew past them. Juho looked up and watched it fly away. It seemed hungry. "It won't come for you, will it?" "I'm harder than I look. That bird would have to worry about breaking its beak." Considering how he had been in pieces even a moment prior, his answer didn't sound very convincing. 'He's much weaker than he thinks,' Juho thought. Then, Agrippa asked, "Put me in the water, will you?" "Why?" "What do you mean why? Because I want to be in the water." "Can you feel with that thick, hard skin of yours?" "It may be hard, but it's still skin. I can feel everything." With those words, Juho walked into the water until it reached his ankles. Setting Agrippa down on the sand, Juho plopped down beside him. Clear sea water soaked into his clothes. "Are you enjoying yourself?" "Yep," answered Agrippa. The deep wrinkles around his eyes showed that he was genuinely happy. He was a man of many expressions. His thick, hard skin moved about freely, shining brightly in the sun. Seeing Agrippa enjoying himself in the water, Juho felt sorry for shattering him. If Agrippa was able to feel everything, he must have been in incredible pain when he was in pieces. "That's not true," said Agrippa. "But…" He interjected, saying, "I couldn't see, hear or talk then, so I didn't feel anything either." Juho knew he wasn't telling the truth. Just because he couldn't see, hear or talk, it didn't necessarily meant that he couldn't feel anything. The one who hadn't felt anything then had been Juho himself. He had been the insensitive one. Letting out a sigh, Juho asked, "What am I supposed to do when I'm forgiven before I even got to apologize?" "It's really fine. You restored me. I'm sure I'm the only Agrippa in this world who got to be in the water at the beach." Suddenly, the wave broke, splashing onto his cheek, "Is there something you want?" "Why do you ask?" "Just curious." For a brief moment, Juho looked at the horizon stretching endlessly. It was the border between the sky and sea. Without it, fish could have been swimming in the sky, and Juho would've been able to grant Agrippa the title of the first Agrippa ever to be dipped in the sky. However, Juho didn't want it to vanish. It had always been the line that had kept the sea as the sea, while keeping the sky as the sky. Juho's lips parted, and he said, "This is our last time together. If I leave, you'll be in pieces again, so I'd like to know." "Yeah, I've been wanting to say it too. Last time we met, we didn't even have a chance to talk," said Agrippa. The reflection moved whenever he moved his face. "I was sold along with other art supplies." Brush, palette, paint, pencil, sculpting knife, and molding clay. He described the view of the store he had been in. "Not including myself, there were four Agrippas beside me." "Were you close to any of them?" He hesitated and asked, "What does it mean to be close?" "That's a hard question you're asking." Agrippa smiled bitterly. He was a man of many expressions. "We couldn't distinguish ourselves." "Was it because you all looked the same?" "Not exactly. I couldn't retain my identity," said Agrippa, wearing a sad expression. "Maybe I was asleep. When I opened my eyes after being sold over and over, I had a dream." 'Is he talking about dreaming in his sleep or daydreaming?' "What kind of dream?" Juho asked. "I had become human. My heart had started beating, blood circulated throughout my body. My hands felt warmth," answered Agrippa. "I think that's when I first realized my own identity." The imagination Juho had applied to it had brought Agrippa a dream. "Then, when I was broken into pieces, I felt jealous for the first time." The wave retreated, foaming. It splashed on his shoulders. "What were you jealous about?" "You guys don't change." The wave broke again, but this time, gently. "We do change." The body and the mind tended to change based on time and circumstances, getting involved in incidents both small and big. People moved restlessly through life. "No," Agrippa disagreed for some reason. "Why did you think that?" "The moment I was shattered, I felt my identity vanishing into thin air. It's different from death. I'm not dead. I was just back to not being able to distinguish who I was anymore. I couldn't tell who was who. Now, I can't tell myself apart from the other Agrippas." 'Distinguish,' Juho thought. Just as the word "I" meant the person himself, Agrippa was no other than Agrippa himself. "I" would not bother to spend time thinking about his identity when looking at Agrippa because he would be capable of distinguishing himself. "I was sold over and over. Art institutes, homes, schools, parks. I was everywhere, and I am every Agrippa there is in this world, but you're different. You are you, strictly. That never changes, and it can never be taken away. You don't break into pieces like I do. You're durable. I was jealous." Won't, can't and shouldn't be taken away. Agrippa had been jealous of the people who had that. He had wanted to be a person who possessed something that should never be hand out to others under any circumstances. The wave broke again. Though it had been timid at one point, it broke all the more desperately. Water splashed onto Agrippa's eyes. He was crying.

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96 Chapter 96 - The Sky is the Sky and the Beach is the Beach 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "You can stay as yourself too," Juho said to Agrippa. "You're the only Agrippa in this world who got to be in the water at the beach." Although Agrippa gave no answer, Juho felt that he was looking for evidence. He had been longing for some evidence that showed that he, too, possessed something unchanging. With that, Juho looked around. Sea, sand, sky, seagull, endless horizon. They were all things that he could easily make. "Call your friends." Agrippa didn't understand him, so Juho added in the friendly manner, "The Agrippas you were confusing yourself with." "... What for? My identity will get lost the very moment they get here." "Don't you worry," said Juho, smiling. "I'll find you." "Find me?" "I can do it." "We all look exactly alike. I'm serious. There's not one distinguishing characteristic between us." Juho shrugged confidently. "Nothing's impossible here." A large wave swooped over Agrippa and rushed back to where it came from. However, it drenched neither Juho nor Agrippa. No, the Agrippas, countless Agrippas, filled the beach, fixating their ivory eyes on Juho. None of them spoke. Instead of seeing, they listened with their gazes straight ahead. Juho walked through the statutes carefully and tried to strike up a conversation, "'Scuse me." No answer. "Hello?" he tried again, but there was no answer. With his eyes on the traces left by the wave in the distance, he walked past the Agrippas. Sand was taking up the space once filled with water. Similarly, the Agrippas were occupying the place where the sand should've been. Following the wave, Juho walked toward it. It was neither this nor that, neither the statue next to him nor behind him. He went further, passing a large number of statues. They all looked exactly alike, even their flaws. He tried lifting them, one on each hand. Their cold ivory skin felt smooth to the touch. They even weighed the same. It made sense that Agrippa had been so confused. 'I wonder if animals look at us the same way I look at these statues? Do they think that it's impossible to distinguish us, like the grains in the sand? No, that's not true. A puppy knows its owner. Not one pebble in a valley is the same. Though they might all look the same to some people, the pebbles each have their own unique shape. Once there's a memory attached to it, its shape evolves into something even more unique. For that reason, I know I can find Agrippa here.' "Found you," declared Juho, standing in front of the wave. There was one last Agrippa in front of him. Having walked past a slew of Agrippas, it was the one Agrippa unique to Juho. He gave no answer still. Only, his forehead twitched ever so slightly, and the wave broke stubbornly. "How did you find me?" asked Agrippa. "Your moustache," Juho answered. There were hairs placed vividly under Agrippa's nose. Juho had drawn them in in the science room. Thankfully, they had remained intact despite the water. While in a daze, the Agrippa started laughing suddenly, "Hahaha!" He laughed heartily, resounding throughout the entire beach. The moustache vibrated as he laughed. At that moment, a powder-like substance fell on the ground. It was time to part ways. "It seems like it's time." "It appears so." Agrippa's face crumbled away, turning into sand. It was becoming one with the sand at the beach. "I'm sure you have what it takes to find me." "Yep," answered Juho, confidently. Even if he became one with the sand, Juho would still be able to find him. "That's all that matters. Even though I'm about to be reduced to a handful of sand, I'm at peace." Just as his chin and forehead, his once clear eyes began to trickle down. Juho reached for him, feeling the smooth texture of the sand as it brushed past his hand. Agrippa seemed somewhat older. Maybe it was the sand, or the scorching sun that was beating down on him. His mouth spread open, but it too crumbled away before he had a chance to speak. "I know," said juho. "She won't change." Agrippa slowly faded away, his neck and shoulders gone. "It's been a pleasure." With one last smile, Agrippa vanished. The water washed away what little sand was left in Juho's hand. Before he knew it, the water had come up to his neck. 'When did you get here?' Water had a tendency to be fickle. From the water, Juho looked in the direction of the beach. A woman was walking on the sand, leaving footprints. By the look of the silhouette, she seemed to be wearing a hat, slouching slightly. Though Juho wanted to get a better look, he was moving farther away from the shore. 'Who could that be?' The woman seemed to be wearing pants. Her silver hair became visible under the visor. Stopping in her tracks, she bent down to pick something up from the sand. Maybe she was patting something. She appeared to be well-advanced in age. 'Did she really remain unchanged or did she give into change?' Juho wondered. Straightening her back, the woman went on her way leisurely. In order to stop her, Juho tried to shout, but no sound came out as water began to rush into his mouth. Agrippa. Juho had become Agrippa himself. Regardless of who it was, one had to become the sand in order to leave that beach. Juho felt his body crumbling away under the water. Whenever the wave broke, he got pulled under, sinking and becoming one with the sand. His eyes met with the blue, serene sky. It was the sky that he had always seen, and he felt relieved. A simple fact remained: He was still himself. At the sight of a seagull flying about in the sky as it searched for something, Juho closed his eyes. "Sigh." Opening his eyes, Juho let out a sigh. To wake himself up, he reached for the cup that came into view. It was cold. --- "Hello," greeted Juho. At the sound of Juho's voice, the Chinese teacher looked up from his book. He was also the Book Club's homeroom teacher. Despite being separated by a mere door, the school library smelled entirely different from the rest of the school. Juho was impressed by its subtle scent of dust and books. Once he identified Juho's face, the greeted him back with a slight nod. The shelves were filled with books organized into categories. Between the shelves was a small box designed for requesting new books for the library. The translucent box seemed rather empty. After thinking for a bit, Juho picked up the pen and paper next to the box and wrote down the name of the book he wanted to see in the school library. It was a book written by Joon Soo. Although there was a wide array of books in the library, his books simply weren't popular enough. His fans tended to be quite avid, but they were few in number. Folding the paper in half and pushing it into the box, Juho remembered why he had come to the library - to pick a book. Juho wanted to know more about sand. Just like how Juho hadn't always been Yun Woo, sand hadn't always been sand. It had been granite in a high mountain at one point. Either from external erosion or internal disintegration, the rock broke into enormous pieces. As large as it was, it took a long time for it to travel down the mountain. Eventually, it shrunk gradually in size, naturally and/or by washing down the river. The rocks kept shrinking as they crashed into each other, bruising and wearing each other down. There was no way to make them bigger. The whole process repeated itself until the rock was reduced to the size of a grain of sand. Juho wanted to know where the countless grains of sand had come from. He looked in the shelf with books on geographical science. It didn't take long before he found what he had been looking for. 'What is Science?' 'Easy-to-Understand Science' 'A Quick Look at the History of Science' 'How Did Ancient Civilizations Know the Earth was Round?" 'The Fundamentals of a Triangle.' 'Mathematics That Fits in Your Palms.' 'Physics: the Fascinating Science.' 'The reason Why the Sea is Salty.' 'Nothing Can't Be Explained with Science.' 'How to Make a Mummy.' 'Mushrooms' 'The Extinction of Dinosaurs' 'Earth' 'Climate in the North Pole.' Standing in front of a wall of books, Juho started searching from the top. 'Sand, sand. It has to be here around somewhere.' The book didn't come into view until he started looking down. Eventually, he squatted, going after the books at the bottom shelves. "Here it is!" 'Formation of Sand.' Seeing how it was covered in dust, nobody seemed to have bothered looking at it. It looked rather technical 'This will do. Otherwise, I can just get one from the bookstore,' he thought, picking up the book. When he walked out, there was a student sitting where the Chinese teacher had been sitting, reading. She was reading with the same posture as the teacher. "I'd like to check this out," Juho said. Just like the Chinese teacher, she looked up quietly and asked, "Your student ID?" "Here," said Juho, handing her his ID. Taking the ID from his hand, she scanned the book's barcode and typed the book's information on the computer, seemingly familiar with the library's system. Meanwhile, Juho glanced over at the book she had been reading. The book came into view while resting on her skirt that fell just below her knees. A lone bird in a gray background. "Here you go." "Thanks," he said. She gave him a light nod in response. With just them there alone, the library was quiet, and as soon as he stepped out through the door, the sound of clamoring would come flooding into his ears. Before he went on his way, Juho stopped to ask the girl a question, "Is that any good?" She looked up as she was about to pick up her book, understanding him immediately. "Yes." "How good?" "Quite good." A woman of few words. Seeing as how she didn't seemed to welcome the conversation, Juho went on his way without asking anything further. "If you haven't read it, you should," said the girl, her eyes fixated on the book. "Why?" "It's worth it." Juho didn't say anything. "Yun Woo's story is kind of like sand in some ways," she added. "Sand, huh." Juho had never heard his writing compared to sand. Looking at the dusty book in his hand, he asked, "What made you think that?" "It rushes into the reader's mouth without permission." "Is that what Yun Woo's book does? It goes into your mouth without permission?" "So to speak," she said, patting the book. "With wind, fine sand can go anywhere. You couldn't grab it even if you wanted to. The moment you think you've caught it, it's already escaping through your fingers. It's kind of annoying, but on the other hand, I feel grateful." "But you like the book though?" "Yes. I wouldn't read it otherwise. I wouldn't recommend it to a person that I'm not even close to either." 'I should be thankful,' thought Juho. Thinking back on it, they had met before, when the entire Literature Club had come to the library. "You're part of the Book Club, right? We've met before?" "Yes, and you're part of the Literature Club." She remembered him. Just like now, she had been reading then. While Juho reminisced about that day, she went back to reading. Without disrupting her further, Juho quietly stepped out of the library. "Sand that rushes in without permission." Her expression lingered in his ears. The lone woman who had left for the beach had to have been carrying that same sand. Afterall, sand didn't discriminate.

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97 Chapter 97 - The Sky is the Sky, and The Beach is the Beach 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Just like last time, Juho came to the beach in his uniform, wearing the same backpack and riding the same train. Though he took the exact same route as before, the trip didn't feel as long this time around. He had already gotten used to it. As the waves broke, Juho treaded slowly along the sand. A seagull flew about while the clouds calmly floated away. Eventually, a large boulder came into view. On it, three people sat fishing. There was no way to tell if they had come separately or as a group. Quietly, they each stared into the water at their fishing line. Taking a brief moment away from the beach, Juho found a shade and sat on dry ground to read the book he had checked out from the school library. It was a book about the history of sand, and Juho was reading about the different colors of sand. Their colors were determined by the condition in which the formation took place. As an example, there was a picture of the black sand of the Punaluu Beach in Hawaii. It was a fascinating sight. It almost looked like coals or lumps of clay. The sand in the beach Juho was in had the typical, yellowish brown color, not particularly dark or light. Though the book dealt strictly with scientific facts about sand, it wasn't as boring as it looked. Maybe that was because Juho was sitting on the sand. The wave broke in the distance. Juho was in reality. There was no Agrippa. The wave wouldn't retreat or rush toward him all of a sudden. Smelling the salty air, Juho focused on reading. "Hello," a voice called for him. Taking his eyes off the book, Juho looked up. The first thing that came into view was a wrinkled hand holding a plastic bag. "Hello," Juho greeted back. A subtle scent of food came from the old lady. "Can I interest you in some boiled clams?" she asked. Her back bent quite a bit. Juho looked in the direction of the three fisherman. They were busy eating the clams. "Yes, I'll take some." "I'll give you some extra, young man." "Thank you." Opening the layers of plastic bag, she scooped out some clams and poured them into a paper cup. The shells clattered against each other in the process. With the cup in his hand, Juho asked, "Have you ever picked up rocks here?" "Rocks?" she asked in a loud voice, and Juho nodded with a smile. "Yes. A lot of people take them as mementos." Her mouth turned up as if she had heard a joke, revealing a shiny silver tooth. "I did when I was younger, but it's no use. They just take up space. What can you do with rocks?" "Really?" "Of course! Everything becomes a hassle when you're older. I'm busy boiling these clams as it is." "I see." Juho felt somewhat disappointed. As much as he wanted people to remain unchanged, everyone grew old eventually. Juho knew that, having experienced it firsthand. His movements had become sluggish. He had made mistakes more frequently. He had grown further away from his youthful self. Although the conversation had seemingly ended, the old lady still stood in her place for an unknown reason. Juho took a clam to his mouth and sucked on it. The meat popped out of the shell and into his mouth, filling it with a fresh, briny flavor. 'It'd been a while since I'd had this,' Juho thought. "So, I thought about it..." she said. Juho stopped eating and looked at her. "I don't pick up rocks." Though she had repeated herself, Juho listened to her like it was the first time. "Of course." "I don't need them." Again, nothing new. However, she wore a completely different expression. "These rocks have become useless to me, young man." Juho couldn't answer her as willingly as he had earlier. "Why is that? Is it because they changed?" Juho asked. "Change? You mean the rocks?" "Anything." "Well… rocks eventually rot too." After a quick thought, she added, smiling, "Whether you boil it or let it rot, a rock is a rock. There's no need to think about it too much… or were you asking about me and not the rocks?" "Either," said Juho. "Ah… I get it. I don't think that I've changed. Haha! These are some funny things coming from an old grandma, right?" "No, not at all." With her hands on her knees, she stood up slowly. As Juho helped her up, a salty scent tickled his nose. "That's what I feel when I stare out into the sea. Think about it. What I'm seeing has and always will look the same. Even though I'll rot away one day, I feel like nothing has actually changed, like I'll always be staring out at the same view. Do you follow?" "It's a little confusing, but I get the gist," Juho gave her an honest answer. She nodded understandingly. "That's OK. It happens." "Yes, ma'am." "Anyway, I don't pick up things like rocks anymore. I hope I answered your question. Oh, didn't you ask if something had changed?" "Yes, I did." Although she was somewhat incoherent, Juho listened to her quietly. "I didn't change. That's it. It's not that complicated, right?" "Yes, ma'am. Loud and clear," Juho answered, smiling. According to her, a rock was a piece of memory. In saying that she no longer bothered picking them up, she meant that her memories were being lost. Yet, it didn't matter to her. She believed that she hadn't changed. She believed rocks were and always would be rocks whether they were boiled or rotten. With that, she went on her way. After getting scraped over and over, a rock eventually became sand. Similarly, a person grew old with age. However, the essence remained unchanged. Whether she decided to pick up the rocks or not, she was and always would be herself. There were things that didn't change after all. Juho brought another clam to his mouth and enjoyed its fresh brininess. --- "Computer lab!" the club members exclaimed as the tightly lined up computers came into view. Computers had become an essential tool for the kids living in the modern age. Though it wasn't their first time there, they were excited to be writing in a new environment. After they each took a seat, they each spent time on their own while waiting for Mr. Moon. Juho headed for the backmost seat. "Why go so far?" asked Seo Kwang. He sat in the second row. "Mr. Moon said to seat apart from each other so we don't influence one another." "Yeah, but is it necessary to sit that far away?" "I'm used to sitting here." Juho had had permission to be in the computer lab long before anyone else. While the rest of the club members had worked on their plots with Mr. Moon's help, he had been writing in the computer lab all along. Taking a USB out of his pocket, he inserted it into the computer. Letters and words filled the once empty screen. At that moment, Baron walked by between Seo Kwang and Juho. "Why are you sitting there Baron?" He sat at the innermost seat in the third row. "I can see everyone from here, even the door." He seemed to have a composition in mind. As he observed Sun Hwa and Bom sitting in the first row, Seo Kwang exclaimed in agreement. "He's here," whispered Baron. His position worked to his advantage, allowing him to see who was approaching the door before anyone else. In the same manner he walked into the science room, Mr. Moon walked into the computer lab. Without hesitating, he went straight to the point. "We're writing today, right?" "Yes!" shouted Sun Hwa with excitement. They had been learning many theories on writing while coming up with their own plots. Everyone had a clear idea of what they wanted to write about. They were confident. They felt more equipped to be able to portray the images in their heads in writing. They were anxious to give form to those images. Such emotions were apparent in Sun Hwa's voice. Identifying with her, Juho smiled quietly. "Very well. Now, let's stir up some trouble, shall we?" Everyone exclaimed cheerfully. Then, Mr. Moon added, dampening their excitement, "But before we start…" "Huh?" "You all remember the theories we've learned up to this point, right?" "Yes. Characters, Main Events, Background, everything!" said Seo Kwang with confidence. Mr. Moon nodded and added, "Now, let's forget it all." The club members were at a loss. "We're about to start writing. From this point on, we're treading into the territory of art. We don't have to be hung up on anything. A theory is a theory. It'll narrow your vision if you focus on it too much. Now, it's time to write freely. So, set it aside for now." "Yes, Mr. Moon," said Juho, and as if that had been a signal, everyone followed with an answer. With a satisfied look, Mr. Moon said, "Now, let's begin." At that moment, a peculiar sound filled the room. It sounded like neither person or wind. Finding the source of the sound was not all that difficult. Everyone looked back. The sound grew faster and more fierce, almost vicious to the point of calming any excitement in the room. Juho was sitting in the backmost seat, and his face wasn't visible behind the monitor. Seo Kwang stared at his monitor. Blank. Because he had just begun, he was yet to write a single word. He had officially embarked on his half-year journey. Thinking back on it, even the most distant of future would eventually become the present. For that reason, he had been thinking, naively, that the day would come when he would be able to finish his novel. However, there was no such a guarantee, anywhere. The vicious sound in the room reminded him of that reality. The best writer in the Literature Club was fiercely typing away. It almost sounded violent. All eyes were fixated on Juho. It wasn't uncommon for Juho to receive such attention. He was an amazing writer. His sentences were heavy and impactful, yet they flowed peacefully. He also excelled in creating a story. He knew how to control the dynamics while being witty and suspenseful. There was personality in his writing. Only he was capable of writing in the way he did. In Seo Kwang's eyes, Juho was no different from any professional author with published work. Juho was sitting quite far from everyone else. His invisible hand exuded its presence through sound. Seo Kwang started to feel afraid to start writing. He knew that he didn't have the confidence to write without hesitation or jump into his story. He didn't have the confidence to fill the room with such vicious sound either. Just like the rest of the club members, he felt his excitement die down. The air grew heavy. Seo Kwang chuckled. Even in that moment, he looked forward to reading the things that were about to come out of him. When he looked ahead, Sun Hwa and Bom were already facing the front. The vicious typing noise from behind, and the cold backs at the front. He felt alone. He had to write in that uncomfortable place between two unwelcoming walls. He thought about Yun Woo, who had already written two full length novels. 'I wonder if he had to go through this same loneliness when he was writing… Were his books the prize for bringing his fear to submission? Do all authors write with feeling like this?' he wondered. He felt like he couldn't write anything in that state. Subconsciously, Seo Kwang moved his hand over the keyboard and started typing. Putting strength into his fingers, he started to actualize the story in his mind. Letters and words came together and created sentences. Though awkward and crude, they were made by him. Though it was nowhere near comparable to the vicious sound coming from Juho's keyboard, it was distinctly his.

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98 Chapter 98 - What to Do? 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "They did it!" Juho smiled at the sounds of typing that came from the front. There was an empty page on the screen before his eyes. He was in the same place as everyone else in the room. Once he filled a page, a new blank page appeared. When he repeated that process, it eventually became a book, making him an author. As he repeated the process, he became older. The time flew by. Wrinkles would form around his eyes. Maybe he'd slouch. He looked at his page filled halfway. 'When I'm older, I really hope I can write in more peace,' he thought. A cheerful sound accompanied the movement of his hand. Everyone else was typing at the same time. It sounded much better than the times when he had been alone in the room. --- "Lalala, lala." 'Clap, clap, clap.' At the sound of clapping, Juho opened his eyes. What came into his view was the neighborhood elderlies and the woman with her guitar singing in front of them. It didn't seem like there were any lyrics. Listening with his eyes closed, it sounded all the more ordinary and somewhat familiar. It wouldn't take long to find another place where he could hear the same song. What really brought Juho to the park had been her voice. Though it hadn't been special by any means, her voice was unique to her alone. For that reason, the only way to hear her voice was to go to the park. She started singing the next song, and it didn't sound all that different from the previous one. Struggling to grab the chords properly, she plucked away at the strings awkwardly. Listening to such crudely performed music, Juho thought of the story that he had recently written. While filled with sand, the story was actually about things that were impervious to change. Naturally, he had become curious about the woman's voice. 'Will it change with her age?' though Juho, looking in her direction. She had told him that she was planning on singing until her death, and Juho wanted to hear her songs for a long time. He preferred to think that her voice would remain unchanged. He decided to believe that. Her performance did not last much longer. As the concert came to an end, the audience started to go their separate ways one by one. Juho still didn't know her name, and neither did she know his. Because it had already taken place as a rule they had silently agreed upon, they would remain unknown to each other. After greeting her quietly, Juho turned to leave. "Hold up," she called after him. Juho turned toward her. "Me?" "Yeah, you." Juho walked her way. "I won't be able to come here anymore," she said. Juho couldn't say anything in that moment. It hadn't been long since Juho had decided to believe that her voice would remain unchanged. "Are you going somewhere?" "I got a job." "Oh, wow! Congratulations!" He had forgotten that she had been looking for a job. Previously, she had told him that she sang because nobody wanted her. "Is it a music-related position?" "No, it's a temporary intern position at a small company." Suddenly, the bitter reality came rushing in. "Was today your last?" She didn't give an immediate answer. Instead, she just tilted her head to the side. "I'm going to sing until I die." "Yes, you did tell me that." "I just won't be able to do it here." Juho nodded. "I know, but I'm still sad to see you go. Honestly, even a moment ago, I was thinking that I'd be able to hear you sing forever. Of course, that was strictly what I wanted." "I did too, until I got the acceptance letter," she said. Though it was a goodbye to Juho, it had been good news for her. Juho smiled. With that, they didn't say anything else to one another. She started packing slowly, resting her guitar in a case wrapped in black cloth, covering the strings with a small pouch. Though she seemed to be rushing, her movements were slow. "Well, bye now." "Take care." Having finished packing, she calmly bid farewell. Juho stood in his place, watching her get further away. Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks and turned around. Their eyes met. "Did you forget something?" "Do you think you'd have kept coming?" "What do you mean?" "If I didn't tell you that today was my last concert, do you think you'd have come to see me still?" she asked. "I'm not sure," Juho dragged on. After a brief time thinking, Juho said with a smile, "Probably. I'm your fan." "I see." Although it wasn't a definitive answer, she seemed happy. "I might come back." "How come? Is it because it's a temporary position?" "I haven't gotten to sing my lyrics yet." She had expressed that there was something that she had been wanting to say. Yet, she sang songs with no lyrics. Quietly staring at her face, Juho's lips parted, and he said, "I write." "Really?" "I finished a short story recently, and I've been contemplating a title for it." "What's it about?" despite looking puzzled, she asked. "It takes place at a beach, and it's filled with sand. What do you think the title should be?" "Can you ask something like that of someone who hasn't even read the book yet?" "I don't see anything wrong with it. An author has the freedom to name his work whatever he wants." "... Don't expect too much from a person who can't even sing her lyrics." After a brief time contemplating, she added, "Grains of Sand." It was what sand was made of. It was usually too small for anyone to mind, but it was plain and simple . "That's nice. It's easy to understand. I'll consider it as a goodbye gift." She laughed and said, "Seems like I'm going to have to leave empty-handed." "I don't have much to give, so I'll tell you something instead." "What?" "If you think of me, read my books." "What books?" "Yun Woo's," said Juho, smiling. Her eyes widened and her mouth parted slightly, her white teeth peeking through. She knew what he meant. "You are…" she murmured. "Yep." This time, Juho took the initiative to say goodbye. "See you around." "I'll see you around." With that, she left the stage in light steps. After starting her new job, she returned to the park within a month. --- "I thought you said you finished?" Seo Kwang asked on their way to the computer room. "Yep." "Already??" Sun Hwa and Bom asked. "I started early." "That's still fast!" Because they had just started working on the climax in their novels, Juho's pace felt almost too fast. Since he was actually a fast writer, he didn't try to deny them. "I do kind of write fast… It is a short story though," he interjected as Sun Hwa opened her mouth to say something. With that answer, she closed her mouth quietly, and Bom asked, "What's it called?" Juho took a moment to think. "Grains of Sand." "Grains of Sand?" "Yep." "Why Grains of Sand?" "I guess it's because there's a lot of sand in the story?" "That's lame," said Sun Hwa. "You'll get it when you read it." "Why would you say stuff like that? Now I'm even more curious," grumbled Seo Kwang. Juho's answer to Sun Hwa had ruffled Seo Kwang's feathers. After all, he was the bookworm of bookworms. "You'll get to read it the sooner you finish writing," said Juho, teasing. "Hey, punk! It's not that simple. I'm more of a reader than a writer. You know what, I want to stick to being a reader. Creative writing is NOT for me," said Seo Kwang, whining sadly. Once they had arrived at the computer lab, the club members each went to their seats. "Considering how much pain you're in, you are working really hard," Juho told Seo Kwang on his way to his computer. "That's why this is killing me. I'm so exhausted, but I can't stop writing. What is this?" "You're in love." "Is this what 'too much love' looks like?" Seo Kwang asked, complaining about his capacity as a writer. As Sun Hwa quietly watched, she suddenly asked as if she had just thought of something, "Speaking of which, who do we show our novels to when they're done?" The room sank into a silence. Mr. Moon had never given them an explanation regarding who was going read their novels. Having been distracted with the writing, the club members began to wonder about their potential readers. What would come after once they had finished writing? "Do you think we're doing something at the school festival?" asked Seo Kwang. "Who reads books at the festival? Let alone written by amateurs?" Sun Hwa snapped. "I would…" he objected timidly. "Maybe we're just writing." "We've been working way too hard for that." Everyone immersed themselves in thought. At that moment, Seo Kwang said with his hand raised, "Maybe it's for the compilation!" "Huh! That sounds plausible." "Oh, yeah! I'd forgotten about that. I must've taken it seriously when Mr. Moon told us to forget it all. Hehe…" The compilation. The word Juho had set aside in his mind had resurfaced. By the time the club members finished writing their novels, they would be going into the following year, which meant the compilations would be published by then. "But would that be it? It doesn't sound all that different from what we're doing now," said Bom, somewhat disappointed. "Did you want to show it to other people?" Juho asked. "I mean, writing exists to be read by someone else, so I'd be lying if I said no, but I'm not all that confident about what I've written… It's my first novel, and I get overwhelmed just thinking about it… I still write it willingly but… Hm… I don't know," Bom said flustered. It sounded complicated, wanting to be read, but not wanting to be read at the same time. "You should still show it to people." "Huh?" Bom turned her head in the direction of the voice. It was Mr. Moon walking into the room. "I was planning on telling you all." He came bearing the explanation for the aftermath of their literary journey. Looking at the club members scattered throughout the room, he said, "If you guys see it to the end, your novels will be displayed in the library. 'Library? As in the school library?' Juho was surprised at the unexpected answer. "Our novels are going to be on display?" "In the library??" "Starting when??" Questions poured out, and in order to focus their attention, Mr. Moon raised his hand. "I've spoken with the librarian. As long as you finish, you may decide to have your novels displayed whenever you wish." "People are going to be reading my novel??" Sun Hwa asked anxiously. The thought of her crude writing skill being exposed to the public made her feel uneasy. "Don't you think we'll get made fun of?" It was likely. Sun Hwa had had a firsthand experience with it, and Mr. Moon nodded. "Possibly. You are going to have readers after all." "I don't like that!" "Then, you don't have to do it." "... Eh?" Mr. Moon quickly accepted her displeasure, and Sun Hwa felt almost embarrassed. Then, he continued, "Patience has never been your strength. I'm not done." "What else is there?" Bom asked carefully. "I'm not giving you an ultimatum. Read what you've written and decide for yourselves whether it should be read by the public, or if you want to keep it to yourselves. You guys own what you've written. I can't force you to make a decision. If you're afraid of getting made fun of, then feel free to not display it. If you're confident, then go for it." The air grew heavy. It was a difficult decision. "I mean, you don't have to be so serious about it now. It's not as fancy as it sounds. You all know how quiet and empty the library is. There will only be one copy, so no one will be able to take it out of the library. People will be scanning through it at the most," he added light-heartedly. "It's up to you guys as writers to make the readers want to come back and read more, but I don't expect that from you all, beginners." Beginners. The club members lightened up at the sound of that word. They were beginners, unskilled writers. Of course, it wasn't clear whether the readers would consider that fact or not. "Save the anxiety for afterward." "Uh… Does that mean Juho gets to be anxious now?" Seo Kwang asked as he turned towards him. The moment their eyes met, Juho immediately saw the comfort in his expression. He seemed to have decided not to have his novels on display. After all, it wasn't his dream to be an author. Juho had no intention of interfering with his decision, but he opened his mouth and said, "Not yet. It's not done until it's revised." "Really? I guess we all have some time then." Juho agreed to Seo Kwang. There was enough time to think. "Let's take this slow." The air in the room had suddenly been changed by someone, and Juho thought in the midst of it, 'I was planning on writing another book after this short story. What will it feel like once I finish writing the full-length one?"

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99 Chapter 99 - What to Do? 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Juho stared at the screen where he saw two manuscripts for two separate books - a book about sand on the left, and another that was yet to be written. He thought back to Mr. Moon's announcement about putting the novels written by the club members on display. There would be a publication ceremony that was both humble and unofficial. He pictured himself being part of the ceremony with his composition. Both anxiety and excitement tended to stir up simultaneously when doing something for the first time. He turned his eyes back to the empty page on the right side of the screen. 'What to do with this one, the twin born at the same place?' Because Juho had been so distracted with writing, the thoughts about the aftermath had never entered his mind. Though there was no way to tell how that story would turn out, he still wanted to give it his all in writing it. He wanted to start something that matched the scale of the book and its grand beginning. In that case, it would be best to write with publishing it in mind. At the core of it, the new approach would be: "Submission." In other words, he had the option of sending his manuscript directly to the publishing company instead of the school exhibition. His debut title having made him a bestselling author, that was something Juho had never done before. "What if I used a different alias?" Considering how many people were reading his book because of his name, the approach felt somewhat risky. Of course, he had every reason to be grateful toward his readers for reading his book. Yet, he couldn't help but ask himself: 'What if it was under a different name? Would my work still be received the same way?' He wanted to find out and see it with his own eyes. 'What if I published a book under a different alias, and it's just as successful as Yun Woo? What if I can move the hearts of my readers just as much?' If his theories were to be true, they would certainly contribute to his motivation to write. He would feel more free. A goal had been set. Two stories. Born on the same day and time. Polar opposite of each other. The first draft for the short story had been completed. All it needed was to be revised. As for the full-length one, it was just the beginning. It was a story about a recently set goal. Things that changed and things that didn't. One about a humble daily life and the other about an exaggerated tale of an adventurer. A short story, and a novel. Juho moved the mouse cursor about. The screen showed an empty, untitled page. It was time for him to write about the man at the beach. Juho thought back to his encounter with the man. He had been sensitive to languages, rude, rough around the edges, and reckless. Fortunately, he had changed as time passed by. He had learned to take himself seriously and practiced patience. His distasteful personality had begun to evolve into something more grounded. Juho felt something grainy in his mouth. The timid woman at the beach had said that there were things in the world that remained unchanged. Juho didn't try to suppress her influence in his thoughts. Things that changed and didn't change were not all that distant from one another. The man changed over time, but some things never changed. Although he had learned to be more serious and patient, parts of his rough, reckless personality were still intact deep within. Given the right conditions and circumstances, he was more than capable of acting on his old personality. Juho wanted to place him in a gargantuan space. After all, he was confident when he said that he would cross the sea. It was human nature to test a confident braggart at their words. A space that shrunk a person to a microscopic existence. Enormous background. Juho intended to give the man the adventure of his life. Such environment suited him, and it had been the reason for why Juho decided to write a fantasy novel. He listed words to fill that empty world with. "There's a protagonist, which means there has to be other people. It's a world for people to live in, but they're not the only ones alive. There are animals and plants. There's life and the land that would sustain them. There's also water, the sky and the sun. An enormous continent and plateau. Lake and ocean. They mostly froze and melted repeatedly, except for the parts of the world where things stayed frozen or liquid. There was dry and wet sand. Lands full of life and desolation. There were creatures flying in the sky and crawling on the ground, communicating, trading, and migrating. In order to make all those things possible, there had to be a language, which meant there was intelligence.' "Having intelligence means…" It meant that the world wouldn't always be peaceful. 'War breaks out. Weapons are made, killing lives. Waters are contaminated. Bodies get buried. A new lifeform that feeds on corpses comes into existence. Tragedy continues, terror reigns. Sanitation no longer becomes a priority. People aren't the only threat to their own kind. An epidemic. People are dying in massive numbers, but there are survivors. There are always survivors. They continue living, leaving their descendants. Those descendants leave their own descendants. Time flows by. The war comes to an end, and the epidemics disappear. Life begins to regenerate.' Juho decided to go further. Death. Things that remain unchanged. The inside of his mouth felt rough still. Maybe he was getting tired. He wrote another set of words: Eternal Life. Immortality. "God." 'There are written documents that record their existence. Mythology. The existence of language also meant that there were records. Naturally, people grew older, but history exists long before birth, and it will continue to exist long after death.' Juho decided to give that world more structure. 'Let's give it perspective. From whose point of view should I be looking? Should I be the ground? Maybe the water? Plants doesn't sound like a bad idea either. Maybe a bird? An ordinary person? God Himself? The world?' Juho imagined the time when God was born, when He died, when He was forgotten, and then rediscovered. 'The world changed over time. Powers were exercised, and cultures were formed. Everything repeated the process of death and birth. There was God. Though immortal, He was being forgotten. Why? Why would an eternal being be forgotten?' Juho moved his hands busily and added a reason. 'If unseen, unrecorded, unlearned and unthought of, an existence will be forgotten eventually. Maybe He went to a different place? Hiding from the creatures, erasing traces of His existence. There has to be a place, a place to hide God in. Where could that be? Large continents. Epic background. Where can I hide Him in?' His hand suddenly stopped. Rising from his chair, Juho walked over to the corner of the room where there had put a box with a globe he had recently ordered. Taking a box cutter, he cut the box open. 'This is possessed and made by a human. Now, it's being opened by a human. What about God? Would it be the same for Him? Would I need humans if I were to openly reveal His existence? Yes, I would. God exists for humans. They are the ones who discovered God. If I were to rediscover a God who had been forgotten, I would need humans.' The globe revealed itself as he peeled the packaging away. It wasn't all that big. Juho spun it, and the speed with which it spun would depend on the amount of force exerted on it. Suddenly, he stopped the spinning globe and spun it slower the next time. The land. The water. Spinning. He was looking for a place to hide God. 'Why was that place made in the first pace, and how did God know about it? Would He know everything there is to know about this world just because he's God?' Juho immersed himself in thought, thinking about how he wanted to portray God in the story. The globe kept spinning. Round. Sphere. "Gu." The pigeons cry made a similar sound. It was also the number nine, "Gu," and the measurement used for counting things in a sack. In addition, it also meant something old in Chinese characters. Juho felt a sharp pain in his mouth. (TL's note: "Goo" is a way to say "sphere" in Korean. Also, Koreans describe a pigeon's cry as "Goo, goo.") "Ip Gu." (TL's note: "Ip" is the Korean pronunciation for the Chinese word meaning"to let in," while "Gu" is for the word "Mouth." Together, "Ip Gu" translates to entrance.) An entrance. Juho took hold of the hole that was floating around in his head. 'If I were to hide God in here, no one would be able to find Him. How did this hole come about? History would know, and somebody had to have left left a record of it somewhere. It might have changed over time as it was passed onto the later generations, but it'd still be around. That same record had been passed onto that man. Rude, rough around the edges, reckless, sensitive to language.' "A story hidden within mythology." 'While reading mythology, he discovers the hidden code about the existence of God. With that, he sets out on an adventure to discover the truth. It's his destiny. It's up to him to rediscover God.' Juho spun the globe again. 'The world was spinning. Sand came together and made a continent while water made the sea. The sun was in the sky. There was also rain occasionally. Just rain? Maybe ashes and hail too. There were places where nobody lived in - desolate places, unable to sustain life. Even God didn't exist in such lifeless regions 'The world kept growing in size. There were animals that lived in harmony with humans. They had to have witnessed history, perhaps even putting them in places closest to God.' The sphere kept spinning. It kept spinning on its own without the hand spinning it, or any form of force being exerted on it. It was the energy within, giving birth to life. Uninterrupted, the sphere kept spinning. It'd spin forever. That would remain unchanged. The sphere kept spinning. Time flowed by. The geography changed over time. The land quaked, while the mountains gushed out fire, and the ocean froze. When Juho put his hand onto the globe, the globe finally stopped spinning. There was land on the globe painted in white. That was the adventurer's destination. Crossing the continents and the seas, climbing the mountains, the man set out on a quest to meet the God from myth. "All right. Now…" 'I need to come up with the mythology the man had read and the stories within it. I have to think about how he was born and how he would die. The background needs to be more elaborate and solid. The North Pole is already mysterious on its own, but the story itself can't be ambiguous.' Juho was excited for the stories to come. He thought about the myths he knew. Greek and Roman mythology, Northern European mythology, the Dangun mythology, etc. They were stories made up by someone, passed down from mouth to mouth, gathered, and written. There had to be parts that had gone missing or that had been added in the process. It was completely natural. 'Rumble.' Juho was hungry. 'Maybe I should eat something.' When he checked the time, it was already well past lunch time, and he realized he hadn't eaten all day. The moment he recognized his stomach as empty, the hunger grew more intense. 'What's in the fridge?' Even as he rose from his seat and opened the door, Juho didn't stop thinking about the setting. 'Just like how there's a new environment on the other side of the door, maybe there's another world on the other side of the hole.' Because an ordinary land felt plain and boring, Juho decided to increase its size. 'I did decide to create a world that was gargantuan. If there's a place connecting to it, then it'd have to be a-whole-nother world.' He looked at the globe on his desk and asked, 'What if there's another Earth inside of it? Another planet within Earth, so to speak.' "Gu" was an entrance, the only entrance to another "Gu." 'It's a different world, so everything's going to be different. Time, history, language, creatures, everything.' Immersed in the endless train of thought, Juho opened the refrigerator door. A refreshing breeze rushed past his face, blowing across the kitchen. As he put out his hand in front of it, the coldness traveled up to his arms. The longer he left the door open, the more anxious he grew. He felt like he would get yelled at by his mother any minute. He had been told in multiple occasions to not leave the refrigerator open. 'The "Gu" is open now. Maybe I need something else to close it with. No, that won't be necessary.' It was already closed, hidden deep within the stories in mythology. Nobody knew where to find the "Gu." The mythology had served as a door. Only those who discovered its handle were able to open it, and the protagonist had finally discovered it. God, mythology, and the shape of the protagonist grew clearer. "But I'm hungry…" Juho murmured as he closed the refrigerator door. Having returned to his room, he reached for his pen.

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100 Chapter 100 - Face It 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "What should I eat?" Juho contemplated, clasping his rumbling stomach. Cars passed by in front of his eyes. He was on his way back from a walk. As he exited the park, the noise in the environment flooded his ears. Everyone had to be out for the weekend. The streets were booming with people. Though it was too late for breakfast and too early for lunch, Juho was still hungry. 'Maybe some bread?' Without hesitation, he made his way to the bakery across the street. With his eyes fixed on the traffic light, Juho waited desperately for it to change. People were standing on the sidewalk while the cars zoomed past them on the road. Frankly, Juho had wanted to stay home all day writing, wrestling with his pen. Eating had become a hassle, and he didn't want to spend any more time on it than it was necessary. However, he was not in the state to be able to handle writing such a book. In order to create a world that was elaborately detailed, he couldn't afford to keep his stomach empty. Juho stared at the road where the cars were rushing past the white lines on the ground. Those lines had been drawn for the people. It told them 'Walk here. Cars, wait until everyone has crossed safely to the other side.' It was a promise of safety. Unfortunately, people simply had too many reasons to break that promise. When one broke the promise of safety, it often resulted in death. 'Is that how it works in war?' Juho thought, fiddling with a USB-drive in his pocket. His stomach rumbled. Juho regretted leaving home without having eaten. As he stared intently at the bakery, the light finally turned green. While everyone crossed the street at the same time, Juho stepped on the road without delay. It wasn't long until he reached the other side of the street and the green light began to flicker. By the time Juho had nearly crossed the road, people who had arrived late began to rush across. The cars were inching past the white line, announcing their intention of taking off as soon as the light turned. Everything seemed perilous. A middle-aged woman running from afar, an elderly pushing a stroller, a curious dog with its young owner. They were all still walking on the white line. Juho watched anxiously until the light turned red. Thankfully, nothing happened. The light turned red after everyone had safely crossed onto the other side. Juho made his way toward the bakery. Although he was yet to arrive, the scrumptious fragrance of freshly baked bread tickled his nose. Then, he remembered how hungry was. He felt like he would end up buying a lot more bread than necessary. 'It's not everyday I'm at a bakery,' Juho justified himself as he opened the door confidently and stepped into the bakery. As he contemplated on which one to choose, his phone began to vibrate in his pocket. A call from Yun Seo, and Juho answered it quickly. "Yes, Mrs. Baek." "Yes, hello, Juho. Are you busy?" "No, I was on my way back home from a walk," Juho answered honestly. "Is that so? Does that mean you're available today?" "Yes, I'm flexible." "Great! Come eat." Juho was more than happy that Yun Seo had asked him over. He much rather her warm bowl of rice over a generic sandwich sold at a bakery. Because he was already hungry, he answered without hesitation, "I'll be there." "Be safe, and watch out for cars." After the call, Juho decided to take some bread with him, becoming more intentional about his choices. Remembering what she had always said habitually about not having enough food, he made sure to buy a generous amount. --- "I'm here!" "What's up!" 'Bark! Bark!' with the sound of the dog barking in the distance, Geun Woo came out to greet Juho. "Are you opening up a bakery?" he asked, looking at the bags full of bread. "Nothing's sadder than not having enough to eat," "Hm… I could've sworn I heard that somewhere." As he walked in with Geun Woo, they ran into Yun Seo coming out of the kitchen. "You're here! What's all that?" "I brought some bread." "Oh, you didn't have to. There's plenty of food." "More the merrier." "Of course. Go hang out with Geun Woo for a little while. Lunch is almost ready." "Yes, ma'am." Putting on her apron, Yun Seo went back to the kitchen, smiling cheerfully. As she had told him to, Juho sat down with Geun Woo. "Where's Joon Soo?" "He had a lecture." When he thought back on it, their first encounter had been at a university, and Juho had left without listening to his lecture. In the middle of catching up with Geun Woo, Juho asked, "Have you been working on anything lately?" "Yeah. I got a request for a short story for a magazine, so I've been working on that." "I see, the splendor of a celebrity author." "You brat!" Suddenly, Geun Woo asked a question while mimicking Juho, "Don't you get requests like that too? You're the one and only Yun Woo after all." "I've been turning down every single one of them," answered Juho, smiling. "Aha!" "I'm anonymous, and I don't like the idea of writing on a deadline. I want to be able to write when I want in peace." "I get what you're saying. Trying to meet a deadline can be a living hell." Then, Geun Woo asked, rustling the bag of bread Juho had brought, "You're not going to end up like San Jung, are you? Living like a hermit in the mountains?" "Are you talking about San Jung Youn?" "Duh! Who else writes living in the mountains?" San Jung Youn had been famous for many areas. A skilled writer, one of the things she was known for was having built a house in the mountains. She stuck strictly to novels. In order to realize that conviction, she moved to the mountains voluntarily. She was quite eccentric. However, Juho had had no clue that she and Geun Woo knew each other. "How do you guys know each other?" "She was also one of Mrs. Baek's pupils," Geun Woo said light-heartedly, taking a bag of bread from the sack. "I had no idea." "Most people don't. She wasn't here for that long. By the time she came here, she was already an author, so she wasn't exactly a student either. She refused to do interviews too." "How did you guys get close?" "She likes to drink. I'm about the only person here who drinks regularly. We drank together, and we got closer in no time. Speaking of which, I haven't really seen her since she moved to the mountains. Wonder how she's doing," Geun Woo said, tearing the wrapping around the bread. It was almost time for lunch, but he was rather impatient. "Don't blame me if you can't finish your food." "Don't worry. I'll eat every bit of it," Geun Woo said confidently, taking a big bite out of the bread. At that moment, Yun Seo saw him as she came out of the kitchen, and he got an earful. Lunch was delicious. Her cooking was warm and welcoming. After the meal, Juho went outside to walk around a little bit while looking at Yun Seo's garden. There were all sorts of different vegetables. Squatting in front of it, he watched an ant as it crawled by. He took a small pebble and placed it before the ant. As if flustered, it moved about side to side, but soon found a way around it. Even when he placed bigger rocks before it, the ant somehow went around it, as if it knew that something bigger existed. Juho was proud of that spirit. As a gesture of apology, he decided to give it a small piece of bread. When the piece of bread landed on the ground, the ant moved about nimbly. As he watched the ant carrying its food back to its nest, Yun Seo called for him from behind him. "Come have some fruit!" "Yes, ma'am." Seeing the piles of fruit she had brought out, Juho sat next to Yun Seo. "So, what have you been working on lately?" Yun Seo asked. Though he had never brought it up with her, she somehow knew that he had been writing. "I've been working on a short story and novel." "Two?" "The two ideas hit me at the same time. I couldn't help it." Juho talked about the day when he made the spontaneous trip to the beach. Yun Seo listened cheerfully. "You really have a lot in common with Wol. That must have been a lot of fun." "Yes, it was! Sometimes, going on a spontaneous trip isn't half bad." "Isn't it tiring?" It depended on the author, but writing two separate books at the same time hadn't been such a bad experience for Juho. Of course, it had been much more demanding in every aspect than working on a single book, but it had been twice as rewarding. "I'm glad to hear. Sounds like you're really meant to be a writer." "I've already finished the first draft of the short story. I think writing in different locations has really helped." School and home. By writing in two different environments, Juho was able to keep his thoughts and ideas organized, and the two books seemed to have a positive influence on one another. "Although I still got a ways to go with the novel." "There's no rush." "Yes, I agree. I've been taking my time with it. I've learned the benefits of keeping my shoulders relaxed when I write." "Hyun Do?" Yun Seo asked, smiling. "Yes, ma'am." "How was he?" she asked, curious about their encounter. After a brief time thinking, Juho answered, "It was an honor. There is so much I can learn from him. I had a great time." "Hyun Do told me the same. He said he had a great time as well." Juho felt relieved that his meeting with the literary giant had gone smoothly. "Hyun Do may be comforting, but he's hardly the one to reach out to people first." "Really?" "Of course! He likes to write in the quiet, so he becomes a hermit when he's writing. It makes people around him anxious, but I keep telling them that there's nothing to worry about." "Why is that?" "Hyun Do is the master when it comes to eating alone," Yun Seo said, laughing cheerfully. Juho looked at her intently. Though she had used the word 'alone,' that was hardly the truth. With a friend like her who trusted and supported him, Hyun Do was never alone. "He was moved by your writing," Yun Seo said. "Are you sure…?" "That's right. You got his heavy ass to finally come outside. You can be proud of yourself. I think you can afford to be a little arrogant," she added, calmly looking at Juho. She knew about Juho's bondage to past failures keeping him from celebrating the present successes. Celebration was but a moment. Afterward, everything went back to the way it had been. An author tended to be more focused on the harsh criticisms than on the praises. When Juho published his new book, he had been happier about the fact that he wasn't reliving the past failure than about his book being published. He had always worked hard to keep himself under control. "I've watched over countless authors over the years." "Yes, ma'am." "You stood out among the other authors I've met. You don't show it. You're almost too good at keeping your emotional boundaries." She had known his struggle all along and was reaching out to help. Juho answered playfully, "What if I actually become really arrogant?" "Then, I'd have to put you in your place." "That sounds scary." "It's not good to be scared from the start. Don't be preemptively afraid of success or of failure. " "Are you saying that I should set them aside?" "I'm simply telling you to face them." Face it. Juho thought of the crow. "And then?" "You accept it." "And then what happens next?" "I believe it's up to you. At the end of the day, this is your life," Yun Seo said while looking up at the sky. She seemed to be reminiscing about someone. Seeing the longing in her eyes, Juho guessed that she was thinking of her husband. "There's this favorite author of mine. He's an amazing writer, and I really respect him." "Uh, huh." "One day, that author told me that he saw a bird." A bird. Juho was surprised by the familiar sounding word. "Apparently, it was injured, so it couldn't fly. He wanted to look after that bird. I couldn't understand him, but I let him anyway. He always sees things that I can't see." Juho imagined an injured bird that couldn't fly. "Now that I'm older, I think I'm starting to get it. After writing twice the amount he wrote throughout his life, I barely came to understand it. He wanted to fly. Freely," she said, smiling. "That's why he wanted that bird to be able to fly. In the end, that bird was a representation of himself. It's the same reason he had to start writing." Juho felt like he had discovered a light in the dark. He felt like he had finally grasped the stream of light that he couldn't before. The crow never flew, and it only stood on its fragile legs. The reason why he hadn't named the crow was because Juho wanted it to fly away. "You've seen it too, haven't you?" "Yes, I have." "Lucky you. I don't have that kind of imagination." After a moment, Juho asked, "Do you think the bird flew away?" Did Wol Kang get his hands on freedom after all? "Yep," she answered confidently. "I'm sure it flew away, as good as new." "How do you know?" "I've read what he wrote. I got to read his last novel. It's still unfinished." Yun Seo rested her hand on Juho's shoulder. It was as light as a feather. "If you want to fly, don't you think your shoulders need to be lighter? So, be more confident kiddo. "You've written amazing books. People are praising you. Your writing has moved the hearts of many, so it's OK to be excited. Celebrate it. Don't be held back by the jealousy of others. I really wish for you to learn to do these things." An overwhelming compliment. Juho laughed, feeling like he hadn't done so for a long time. "Yes, ma'am." He decided to take her advice. Anybody could change. On the other hand, anybody could stay the same.

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101 Chapter 101 - Face It 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "You're staying for dinner, right Juho?" "That sounds great." "I'm stuffed. Can we not talk about food?" "That's what you get for snacking right before the meal, Geun Woo." "I'm thoroughly regretting my decision, Mrs. Baek." They were eating fruit together while Geun Woo sat there, quietly holding a fork with a piece of fruit on it. At that moment, the doorbell rang. "Who could that be?" "I'll get it," said Geun Woo as he sprung up from his seat. Yun Seo seemed puzzled by the unexpected visitor. As the doorbell stopped ringing, the sound of footstep drew closer. "Mrs. Baek?" 'Who is this?' Juho turned around at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. A man with bushy hair was standing next to Geun Woo, holding overstuffed plastic bags in his both hands. Yun Seo stood up and greeted the man with joy. "Oh my! It's been so long!" "Mrs. Baek." In the past, he seemed to have been Yun Seo's pupil. As Juho quietly stared at them talking, his eyes met the man's briefly. At the sound of Yun Seo's voice, the man turned his gaze back in her direction. "What brings you here?" "I apologize, Mrs. Baek. I should have let you know ahead of time." "Don't worry about that. It's been ages!" While they greeted one another, Juho walked over to Geun Woo and stood next to him. Having finished greeting Yun Seo, the man looked in Juho's direction. "I see that you have a young pupil?" Yun Seo stared at Juho intently, silently communicating that she would speak accordingly depending on how he decided to introduce himself. Although unclear, the man seemed to have been one of her pupils - an author. Juho contemplated his options for a brief time and remembered the conversation he had had with her earlier that day. "Face it." With that, he came to a decision. "Hello. I'm Yun Woo." "..." The man gave no answer. He appeared flustered, with his eyes and hair shaking. "My real name is Juho Woo. Please call me Juho." As Juho introduced himself, the man finally came to his senses and introduced himself. Juho had no recollection of ever hearing his name. "What are the odds? I didn't think I'd meet you here." "I do ask that you keep it a secret." "Of course." "So what have you written?" Juho asked. "It's been long out of print. You wouldn't know even if I told you," said the man, smiling bashfully. He seemed to be embarrassed of his own work for some reason. "Please, you don't have to be so formal with me." "I appreciate that." Despite his answer, the man didn't seem like he intended to address Juho any differently. Juho pretended not to notice. "Well, come on in!" Yun Seo welcomed the man inside to show him around the house along with Geun Woo and Juho. With longing eyes rather than happiness, the man looked around at his surroundings as he walked beside Yun Seo. Juho studied him quietly. His steps appeared somewhat unstable. "Nothing's changed around here." "What is there to change? How've you been?" "I've been well," he answered briefly. Tactfully, Juho stepped back to give them space. They seemed to have something to discuss. Geun Woo followed him. "Why did you come out Geun Woo?" "I wanted to bring them some tea." "I'll do it." "Thanks. Do you mind boiling the water then?" Geun Woo took out the tea leaves from the shelf while Juho filled the teakettle with water and placed it on top of the stove. "Who is he?" Juho asked, thinking about his bushy hair. After a brief time thinking, Geun Woo answered, "I don't really know either. He debuted not too long after coming here, and then left right as he debuted. I haven't seen or heard of him since then. Who would've thought he would just appear like that out of nowhere?" Because he didn't explain in such great length, Juho too asked no further. There were many authors who studied under Yun Seo who became famous, but there were also countless others who never became known. All of the man's classmates who studied under her had left. Debuting and publishing a book alone didn't justify an author's career in perpetuity. If anything, a perilous journey awaited once a book had been written. The fact that there were those who were successful also meant that there were those who failed. "Speaking of which, are you going to be OK?" "What do you mean?" "Revealing your identity like that?" "Well, I wasn't lying or anything. He's one of Mrs. Baek's pupils, so I'm sure he wouldn't go around telling people," Juho answered with a shrug. "I guess that's true." "It's fine. I don't want to be too too anal about this either. Besides, what is there to lose? At worst, I'd live the life of a superstar." "Did you just call yourself a superstar?" asked Geun Woo, leaning against the wall as they waited for the water to come to a boil. They didn't say anything else to one another. Geun Woo prepared to pour the water over the tea leaves in the cup. "So, I heard that Joon Soo showed you his studio?" he probed as the cups clattered. "Yes, he did. There were a lot of poems," said Juho. "I heard. I also heard that you can recite Chinese Poems?" "Yes, I can. Would you like to hear it?" "No, thanks." The water started boiling. "Seems like they're going to be talking for a while. C'mon, let me show you my studio this time." Juho understood the intention behind Geun Woo's words. He wanted to let his teacher and her old pupil have time and space to catch up. Juho had intended on doing the same. However, from Geun Woo's point of view, Juho was probably someone he had to take care of. Still, it was better than not doing anything at all. Juho willingly played along. "Exciting." "It might not be as impressive as Joon Soo's," said Geun Woo, pouring hot water into the cups. The fragrance of the tea spread about the kitchen. Asking Juho to wait, he took the tea set on a tray to Yun Seo and her guest. --- "Ta-da!" With an odd sound effect, Geun Woo opened the door to his studio. Compared to Joon Soo's, it was rather ordinary. Along with a wooden desk and a laptop, there were shelves filled with books and various research data. It was apparent that the room belonged to a writer. "It's quite ordinary." "That's the best kind." "I think I'd be able to focus better here too." "This is where I wrote my debut title," said Geun Woo with confidence. Reacting half-heartedly, Juho examined the bookshelf. There was data on cannibalism on one side. "Can I take a look?" "Yeah, sure. Go for it." Juho pulled a book out from the shelf. It was a study on the methods and results of cannibalism. The index alone revealed a shocking diversity of ways a human consumed another one of his kind. As he turned the page, a picture came into view. With his mouth agape, a half-naked person was holding a large piece of meat in their hands. There was an arm and a leg around them, presumably a person who had lost their shape after being eaten. As he looked intently into the cannibal's eyes gaping open as wide as their mouth, Juho forced himself to turn the page. If he kept staring, he would have brought the cannibal into the room. It wouldn't have been safe by any stretch of the imagination. The history of cannibalism was as long as the history of mankind itself. The beginning of the book was about stories of cannibalism. When a tribe conquered another tribe in war, the conquered tribe was often consumed as food as the conquering tribe celebrated its victory. Cannibalism had been a form of religious and of ancestral rituals for many tribes across the globe. There was also a part in the book that discussed the prion disease, Kuru, in great detail. Juho turned to the next chapter. Cannibalism had also taken place among the stranded as a means of survival. It also took place during war as a result of the scarcity of food. The content of that chapter was a bit more convincing than of the previous chapters. 'Yeah, it makes sense that people would eat each other in this scenario.' The next chapter discussed motives of those who practiced cannibalism rather than any practical reasons. 'Just because they wanted to.' It was a behavior commonly found in bizarre homicide cases. Sexual fantasies, preferences, damaged corpses. It was all unethical. Feeling uneasy, Juho quickly turned the page and reached a section that discussed a scholar's argument: 'Cannibalism does not exist.' They claimed that the evidence for cannibalism was generally insufficient, and that it was no more than mere imagination. However, it didn't make Juho feel better, not one bit. 'If their lives were at stake, would a person eat another person?' Juho thought. 'What if I was in that situation, and there was a person in front of me?' He remembered the picture of the cannibal with his mouth agape. 'Am I capable of becoming like him?' Juho wondered. "Gruesome, huh?" asked Geun Woo as Juho closed the book. "It really is. I now have a newfound respect for you for wrestling with something like this." "It was rough, yeah," Geun Woo answered light-heartedly. "There are still things like human placenta or capsules made of human flesh floating around the world. The root of cannibalism mostly comes down to faith. People eat other people just because they believe that it'll make them look and feel younger or, simply, more attractive." Human beings were capable of consuming their own kind for such trivial reasons. "It means that they don't view people around them as their own kind. That's what makes it all the more atrocious." The reason why the subject of cannibalism accompanied such a strong sense of uneasiness was simple: people being treated like meat. From the fear of becoming like the man in the book, Juho felt his conscience trying to deny him. The book ended up back in its place on the shelf. "What's interesting though," added Geun Woo, "is the so-called devoted sons that appear throughout fairytales and the history of Korea." The atmosphere took a turn for the better, lighting up the room. The light from the window started to illuminate the room. Devoted sons. They carried a positive feeling. "That… is true…!" Juho thought of the tale of a son who saved his dying mother, feeding her a chunk of his thigh. At one point in history, the scarcity of food had forced children to resort to cannibalism. It almost sounded like a traditional fairy tale. "They taught you that in school, right?" "Yep. I don't really remember when I learned it, but it's definitely in my head." "The subject appears much lighter in that light." "I think it makes it more distant than lighter." Juho felt the relevance of the subject reducing to that of a bedtime story. The image of cannibalism crossing over from the past to modern history began to grow distant again. Yet, he didn't bother to chase after it. "Well, it doesn't matter," Geun Woo said indifferently. "Don't think about it too much. It's almost dinner time." "Don't worry. I wasn't taking it too seriously." "Are you sure? You looked like you're about to run out of the house to write." War. Cannibalism. Those who didn't believe them. Having rolled those keywords around in his head, Juho decided to set them aside for the time being. "I'm not really getting anything out of it at the moment." "Huh. You kind of sound like you've been working on something... It hasn't even been that long since you've written your second book!" he said, looking surprised. "Yes, I've been working on two separate stories," Juho answered nonchalantly. "Two!?" "I've been writing while going back and forth between school and home." "Well, I guess you're not Yun Woo for no reason. You're seriously fast," said Geun Woo. After a brief time thinking, a puzzled look appeared on his face. "Can you write at school?" "There are computers," said Juho, showing the USB-drive in his pocket. "I keep it all in here." "Great world we're living in." "I agree. I'm glad we don't have to write by hand anymore." Writing a full length novel by hand. His wrist hurt at the thought alone. He was definitely living in an age where it was much easier to write. 'Knock, knock.' "I'll get it." Having sat closer from the door, Juho stood up to answer it. It was the man with the bushy hair. "Mr. Woo, I didn't know you were here in this room," he said, still insisting on addressing Juho formally. 'Should I ask him again?' Afte contemplating it, Juho answered instead, "Yes, I've been hanging out here with Geun Woo." "How'd it go with Mrs. Baek?" Geun Woo asked. The man answered with a tired smile, "It went well. Thanks for giving us space." "Of course. It'd been a while, so I'm sure there was plenty to talk about." The three headed for the living room where Yun Seo was sitting. At that moment, Juho saw regret in her face. 'I wonder what they talked about for her to make that face?' As Juho wondered, Geun Woo asked, "Are you here to write?" He gave no answer. After contemplating it for a moment, he opened his mouth and said, "I'm actually thinking about stopping." Geun Woo blinked awkwardly at the bitter-sounding words. Without saying anything, Yun Seo sat there quietly. No one seemed to have expected such an answer. "How come?" "It's not selling." A brief answer. Geun Woo let out a sigh. He was well-acquainted with the scenario. "I see." For that reason, Geun Woo knew that nobody would be able change the man's mind, even if they were to force him to write. A story came to its genuine fruition only when it was written of the author's volition.

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102 Chapter 102 - Face It 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Juho replayed what he had just heard in his head: "It's not selling." For those who set their triumph on how their book was selling, there was no clearer reason for quitting. Neither Yun Seo or Geun Woo criticized or urged him on. He hadn't done anything wrong. As long as there was a viable alternative, choosing a different path was his freedom. In order to lighten up the atmosphere, Yun Seo said cheerfully, "Why don't we have a barbecue tonight? How does pork belly sound?" "Sounds great, Mrs. Baek! Should I go out and get some?" Geun Woo agreed. "Please." While the man dropped his head slightly, Juho smiled quietly. "Today must be your lucky day, Juho. You get to stuff yourself with pork belly tonight." "I must be blessed." "Every one of Mrs. Baek's guests is blessed with food." "Very true," said Geun Woo, preparing to go out. Juho eyed him to see if he should come along, but Geun Woo waved his hand in denial. Suddenly finding himself with nothing to do, Juho decided to borrow a laptop to work on revising his short story. As he plugged his flash drive into the laptop, he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. Looking back, the man and his hair came into view. "Is there something you need?" "Oh, no. Since I met Yun Woo, I just thought I should try to strike a conversation while I'm here." Juho looked at the laptop once and turned around. "Sounds good. I was starting to get bored with Geun Woo gone." "I'm sorry about earlier," said the man, scratching his head bashfully. Juho waved his head in denial. "Should we talk elsewhere?" "No, this is fine." "Would you like to sit here?" The man quietly shook his head. Unfortunately, there was only one chair in Geun Woo's studio, forcing him to remain standing. Because the man gave his answer, Juho didn't force himself up from his seat. Leaning against a bookshelf, he looked at Juho intently, and Juho, too, turned the chair in his direction and faced him. "You're young," he said. Juho pretended to rise from his seat. Smiling, the man waved his hand, gesturing Juho to hear him out. "I didn't mean it like that." "Right." "How is it?" "What do you mean?" "Where you're sitting?" By reflex, Juho's eyes moved to the chair. He probably wasn't talking about the chair either. 'He's probably asking about what it's like to be Yun Woo,' thought Juho. "So-so." "So-so?" "A person adapts to their place no matter where they are," said Juho. For that very reason, people tended to desire to move up to somewhere higher. "I wish I could say the same," his hair moved about slightly. "Do you think I'll adapt to where I'm at?" Not knowing the answer he was looking for, Juho smiled quietly. As if the man wasn't expecting an answer himself, he changed the subject. "I enjoyed 'The Sound of Wailing.' It made me realize what Yun Woo is capable of as an author." "Thank you." "For how long have you been writing?" Juho hesitated for a moment. 'How long have I been writing?' He wasn't sure how long he needed to go back. 'Do I include my past or only up to the time when I used to write like it was a habit? Maybe when started writing 'The Trace of a Bird?' "I'm not sure," Juho said ambiguously. "You wrote 'The Trace of a Bird' at sixteen, so it must be… two to three years now?" "Probably." In that case, what the man said would be accurate. "How about you?" Juho asked. "..." He hesitated, but unlike him, Juho waited for his answer patiently. "A lot longer than you have," he said timidly as if he barely managed to give the answer. "That's admirable." "What is?" "That you've been writing a lot longer than I have. Writing's no joke." "... I agree. It's not, but I loved every bit of it… Well, what can I do? It wouldn't sell," he added, sounding dejected. "It must be nice being in your place. You really solidified your place as an author with your most recent book, right? There's not a single person in this country who doesn't know your name." "I'm not sure. I don't think there is such a thing as solidifying a place in this field. I need to keep going." "I think you can relax a little bit. Everyone's praising your work. At this rate, anything would sell as long as it has your name on it." "Thank you for your kind words," said Juho, smiling. The man's hair moved along with his head, revealing his eyebrows. His forehead appeared to be furrowed. With a sigh, he said, "You're amazing…" "... But keep your eyes peeled," he added, somewhat maliciously. "What should I be on the lookout for?" Juho asked quietly. "Ending up like me," the man answered with a calm voice. Juho thought about the meaning behind those words. 'Ending up like him. Is he talking about quitting or the book not selling? Maybe he's talking about being forgotten?' It was somewhat humorous. Juho didn't even know his name. Besides, he had had experienced it all. Ignoring the man's warning, Juho tried to see things from the man's point of view. It was a small, small world. His hair hindered the view. He couldn't see anyone but himself. As Juho took his time before giving an answer, the man's brow furrowed again. Juho stared at him intently. "I'm back!" a loud voice came from outside. It was Geun Woo, and Juho's eyes met the man's. "Shall we?" "Yes." As if nothing had happened, they went out to greet Geun Woo and the pork belly he had brought back. --- On his way in from the watering the garden as per Yun Seo's suggestion, Juho decided to visit the familiar sound of the barking dog in the distance. It lived not too far away. "Bark!" Low and resounding. It drooled and barked viciously. Next to it, were his empty food bowl and a doghouse made of blue plastic. "You're a lot dirtier than I'd imagined." As if it understood him, the dog barked all the angrier. Juho plunked himself down in front of the dog and stared at it intently. It paced back and forth, moving its tail frantically. Soon, it too plunked down with its stomach facing the ground. The shadows were growing bigger and bigger. Though it was bright out, the ground was already preparing for night. A forest of buildings became visible in the distance. Because the dog looked like it had come from the countryside, the scenery made for an odd experience. Juho started to feel hungry. "Aren't you hungry?" The dog didn't even bother to bark anymore. It simply moved its tail about lazily. "I guess you're quick to adapt too," said Juho as he rose from his place. As he got closer to Yun Seo's house, the intoxicating aroma of grilled meat tickled his nose. He hurried his steps. "Where were you?" asked Geun Woo from the wooden bench. "I went to go see the dog." "Oh, right," he said, nodding. "You made it just in time for dinner." "I could smell it all the way from where I was." Juho looked around as he sat on the wooden bench. The man was nowhere to be found. "He's probably still inside. He said he wanted to help prepare it," said Geun Woo. "While you're chilling out here?" asked Juho. "I'm being 'tactful.' This is probably his last meal here." 'Last meal?' Juho's puzzled look questioned Geun Woo. "What do you mean? It's not like Mrs. Baek wouldn't let him visit or anything." "Yeah, but it kind of turns out that way. People who've left willingly hardly ever come here to visit. Some people send her a text from time to time, but even then, it doesn't last long." Though it wasn't anything new, Juho couldn't help but feel bitter. 'Why do things have to be that way? Do people just naturally grow distant from one another when they stop talking or writing?' "So, try to visit often. There's only so much we can do between Joon Soo and I." "Of course." Silence. In contrast with the blue sky, the roof of the house was already in shadows. As he sat there enjoying the welcoming smell of Yun Seo's cooking, Juho suddenly sprung up from his seat. Geun Woo looked at him with puzzled eyes. "What's the matter?" "I forgot something." "At the doghouse?" "In your studio." Geun Woo waved his hand, gesturing him to make haste. "Fetch me a cup of water on your way back, will ya?" "OK, OK." With Geun Woo's permission, Juho rushed inside and opened the door to Geun Woo's studio. Walking past the shelves filled with books and data, he made his way towards the desk. The laptop was still in place. Only, it was the only thing still on the desk. "Huh…?" 'It's gone. I could've sworn I'd plugged the flash drive in here!' Juho searched around the desk, but to no avail. His flash drive was nowhere to be found. 'How is it not here? Did I leave it elsewhere?' He tried to trace his memories, but the studio had been the first place he'd thought of. Juho brushed his hand down the side of the laptop. "Where could it be…" His dry voice dissipated into air. 'Where are you, flash drive!?' In it, was the first draft of 'Grains of Sand' and a full-length novel he had just started writing. Once he realized that the flash drive was not in the room, he tried to remember the things that he had come in contact with. He pulled out the book he was looking at earlier and looked under the door. Nothing. He looked underneath the chair. Nothing. "Hm…" He reached into his pockets. Empty. He couldn't find it in the places he was certain he would. "That's bizarre…" Juho couldn't do anything but murmur. 'Where could it be?' He calmly retraced his steps. 'I bought some bread from the bakery, and then I got a call from Mrs. Baek. It was still in my pocket then. When I came here and talked to Mrs. Baek, it was still in my pocket. The only time I took it out was when I wanted to get some revision done on 'Grains of Sand,' when Geun Woo went out to buy some meat.' "So it has to be after that…" Standing in his place, Juho quietly looked around the studio. Nothing was out of place, except for his flash drive. "I was wondering where you went. You're still here?" asked Geun Woo. He wiped his mouth as if he had already drank his water. "What are you doing standing? You said you forgot something, didn't you?" "I did." "You haven't found it yet?" "Unfortunately, no," Juho said, chuckling. "What did you forget?" Juho brushed across his empty pocket. 'What if things get out of hand?' a thought crossed his mind. With Yun Seo's guest over, nothing good would come from blowing things out of proportion. "It's nothing important." "Tell me, so we can find it before dinner time. Don't regret it later." The word "regret" coming out of his mouth carried much more power than usual. "So…" Juho hesitated, scratching his head awkwardly. "What is it?" "My flash drive…" "..." Geun Woo's expression grew darker by the seconds. "You don't mean the flash drive you mentioned earlier, right?" "Hahaha…" "Where did you last see it?" asked Geun Woo, wearing a serious expression. "Right here," answered Juho, also looking serious. Geun walked around his studio once. Nothing was different from what he had seen earlier. If anything, it was cleaner. The chair was tucked under the desk with the laptop placed dead center on it. All the books were in their rightful places. "It has to be when you wanted to use my laptop." "Yes." "But where'd it go?" "It's a mystery." "A secret room, perhaps?" "The door was never locked, so I doubt it." "Involuntary manslaughter?" "But there's no body." "It's been disposed of." "So-to-speak. In that case, knowledge of the culprit's identity would be of urgent need." "I have an alibi." "Me too, if dogs could testify." With those words, they wrapped up their petty word play and started searching the studio thoroughly.

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103 Chapter 103 - Face It 4

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "It ain't here." "It's not here." Juho and Geun Woo said simultaneously. Though they searched the room together, neither of them found the flash drive. Unfortunately, it meant that it wasn't in the studio. Thankfully, it wasn't such a big room and it was rather organized, enabling them to search through the entire place quickly. "What do we do?" asked Geun Woo, looking concerned. He knew what was in the flash drive Juho had lost. The open drawers and sheets of data scattered around the room were proof of their desperate search. "Nothing, I guess," said Juho, walking around the room once more. "You're not giving up now, are you?" Juho wasn't giving up, but simply accepting the current situation. The reality was that his flash drive had gone missing, and like in most cases when belongings got lost, it resulted in jumbled up memories. Knowing that, Juho emptied his mind and focused on the barking dog in the distance. "It's possible that the dog fetched it." "Now's not the best time to write a novel, Juho," Geun Woo said sternly. Juho tried to organize his thoughts. He had tried to revise 'Grains of Sand.' The flash drive had been stashed in his pocket, and the laptop happened to be in Geun Woo's studio. Because he had had some down time, he had decided to put the two objects together. After that, he had left the house to go visit the dog. "Are you sure this is the last place where you saw it?" "Most likely." "Are you sure you didn't leave it at the doghouse?" "I doubt it." "That's weird…" muttered Geun Woo, looking around his studio. It was definitely strange. When his memory didn't match up with reality, Juho felt something odd in most cases. Fortunately, breaking out of it wasn't all that difficult. All it took was to either summon a ghost or lure the dog into the house. As long as he assumed one of them to be the culprit, the mystery would have practically solved itself. "What are you guys doing?" While he was lost in thought, a voice sounded from behind them. It was the man with the bushy hair. Geun Woo answered before Juho had time to respond, "Nothing." "It doesn't seem to be that way," he said, walking around the messy studio. "What's with the mess?" "A dog was in here." "A dog?" "Or a ghost." "A ghost??" the man asked, studying Juho with a puzzled look. "I don't think I can catch up to your colorful imagination, Mr. Woo," he said. His hair covered his face, making it difficult to make out his expression. As Juho stared at him intently, Geun Woo interjected, "Did you see a flash drive, by any chance?" The man tilted his head, and his hair moved with it. His entire body was communicating that he was clueless. "What flash drive?" "We lost one, and we're looking for it. Where could this thing be?" At Geun Woo's answer, the man's eyes rolled up toward the ceiling. He seemed like he was trying to think of something. "You got me there." "You have seen it, though," said Juho. Though calm, he sounded certain. "Me? When?" the man asked. "We were talking here earlier. My flash drive was in the laptop then." "Ah, that's what you meant. I didn't see it. Heck, with Yun Woo in front of my eyes, I wouldn't be looking at some flash drive. Besides, I'm not even a writer anymore, so I don't even bother to look at my surroundings." Contrary to his answer, he had come into the room looking rather natural. One couldn't change their habit overnight, but Juho couldn't argue. He simply gave him a nod and said, "I'm getting hungry." "Ha…!" a dumbfounded laugh sounded from the floor. Juho looked down. Geun Woo was looking under the desk with his cheek to the floor. "You're hungry? In this situation?" "I know, right?" "All right. Well, it's in the house somewhere for sure, so we'll keep looking. Unless the thing has a set of feet, it'll come out sometime, somewhere," Geun Woo said, standing up. He was right. Juho hardly ever lost his belongings. To begin with, if he hadn't been in Yun Seo's house, he would have never taken the flash drive out of his pocket. It was a safe place for him. Yet, his belonging had gone missing. "Dinner's ready. What are you all doing here?" asked Yun Seo, standing behind the man who was standing by the entrance. "Are you guys cleaning or something?" she asked as she looked around the room. The man answered as he stood nearest to her, "Apparently, Mr. Woo has lost something." "What??" "A flash drive. Not just an ordinary flash drive, but the one that holds his works." Despite the seemingly alarming news, Yun Seo remained calm. Maintaining her tranquility, she made a sound similar to her friend, Hyun Do Lim, "Hm… Did you look thoroughly?" "Yes, Mrs. Baek." "Every corner?" "Yes, Mrs. Baek," answered Geun Woo. He had looked around with his cheek against the floor, so he would have definitely looked in every corner. "I'll look for it." "Great! She's a master at finding lost items," said Geun Woo as he moved aside for her. Yun Seo nodded in affirmation. At that moment, Juho stopped her. "We should eat first. The food's getting cold." "We can always reheat it. Would you all like to go on ahead and eat then?" He couldn't possibly do that. Eventually, she began to search the desk. Since it had been in the nearest vicinity of the laptop, it was the most likely candidate. Though Geun Woo and Juho had looked multiple times, the flash drive had been nowhere to be found. Perhaps with Yun Seo looking, the search would yield a different result. A voice sounded from behind them, "You should take care of your belongings. I'll help." Juho turned around, looked at him in the eyes and thought, 'If it's not the dog or a ghost, then who's left?" "I know. I must've been way too excited about dinner." "Please don't feel like you're being a nuisance. It happens when you're young. Think of it as a lesson for the future." "I'll keep that in mind." Of course, their efforts went in vain despite involving the master searcher. Seeing as how the search went on for a lot longer than anticipated, Juho tried changing the atmosphere. This time, he went in a slightly different direction. "I'm getting pretty hungry. Could we go eat now?" Yun Seo stopped in her tracks at the young author's voice. "Of course! Geun Woo, would you mind lending me a hand in the kitchen?" "Yes, Mrs. Baek." "We'll keep looking," said the man with bushy hair walking toward the desk. He moved his hands about as if he was looking for something. Clattering sounds filled the room. Juho heard Yun Seo and Geun Woo in the distance. They were alone, and Juho called out to the man. "What is it?" he asked. "How did you know?" "Know what?" "That my works were in the flash drive." "..." Juho had never brought up anything about what was in the flash drive to him. "I heard you and Geun Woo talking from the hallway when I was coming to get you guys," the man said, chuckling. "So, you did know about the flash drive. You sounded like you knew nothing about it." "... Did I? Well, I haven't seen it with my own eyes, so that's why I said it the way I did. I can see how there's room for misunderstanding though." "That's what makes words such a powerful thing. I'm reminded of that often because of my occupation as an author." As a writer, he was well aware of the power of words. He also knew full well of how close truth and lie were from one another. Because words had no shape, people tended to let it leave their lips with ease, all too thoughtlessly. They hardly realized how massive a power words could carry. Maybe it was for that reason that people often tried desperately to get rid of the evidence of having said certain things. Visible and tangible evidence. It had to have shape in order for it to be fully disposed of. Juho said, looking at the desk, "It's strange. I could've sworn I left it here. It's almost as if it got sucked into another dimension." "That's what it's like to lose something. By the time you come to your senses, it's already gone, no matter how secure you might have felt it was," the man said, turning around to look in Juho's direction. "It's upsetting. It's aggravating. You want to blame others, but you can't do that either because it's entirely your fault. Right? Don't be anxious. We'll find it," he said in a rather friendly tone. Their eyes met. He was also looking at Juho. "I appreciate your help. That should be enough." "You're not giving up, are you?" "Yes, I am," Juho answered immediately. "Writing must not mean all that much to you, Mr. Woo," said the man with a furrowed brow. He seemed irritated by Juho's quick response. "When did I say anything about writing? You're an author. You should know the value of each and every one of your pieces," Juho said somewhat sharply. "Well, it's just that you didn't seem like you meant that. I'm not an author anymore," said the man mockingly. It was subtle, but apparent. "Not an author, huh," Juho said, smiling. "Then you wouldn't mind if I suspect you of something, would you?" "Suspect me of what?" "Are you not aware of the reason why we haven't used the word "culprit" still?" He clenched his lips. Juho had given him a friendly reminder on how dangerous of a statement he had just made. "An author can't steal another writer's work. They know the meaning behind it all too well. Getting your hands on another writer's work is to abandon your dignity as an author." Having given up on writing, the man was no longer an author. "There are only authors here in this house." Including Yun Seo and Geun Woo, everyone in the house had been desperately holding onto that truth. Juho asked, "But what was it that you said just now?" He had said that he was no longer an author with his own lips. 'If it's not the dog or a ghost, it has to be a person,' thought Juho. Everyone in the house was an author, but there was exception. Juho looked at the man intently. "..." "Words are powerful. You can't take them back once they leave you. It gets rather messy really quick. We all make mistakes, children and adults alike." The man's lips quivered, looking somewhat angry and anxious at the same time. "Then, why aren't you trying to find it?" he asked in a slightly hoarse sounding voice. His face became visible, and it was filled with malicious intent. He had the appearance of a person who wanted to bring someone down with him as he spiraled down himself. He desired for Juho's downfall and for his career to come crashing down. He was blinded by his desires. His hair concealed his face once again. "I have all my works saved up at home and my flash drive is password protected, so I don't have anything to worry about. Nobody will be able to read what's in it, whether it's a dog or a ghost. If the flash drive really is in this house still, it'll be found eventually. I'll get it then," Juho said, smiling peacefully. The man's expression grew darker and darker. It was apparent that things were not turning the way he had hoped they would. "Such a relief, right?" said Juho. The man's face became more and more distorted with anger. He had the look of a victim. "Yun Woo is amazing," he said, sarcastically. He had said something similar to Juho that day. "Success after success. I suppose that's how you're able to look so peaceful while making a fool of an adult in front of you." "I'm not making a fool out of you. I was simply beating around the bush a little bit. Words are a powerful things." Though Juho's words may have been sincere, nothing could change the twisted mind of a twisted listener. "See? You'll never know. You'll never learn what it feels like to be comforted by a kid." Juho stared at him quietly, infuriating the man all the more. "Just be angry, why don't you? Why don't you just say that you know I stole it and ask me to hand it over?" "No, thanks," Juho said light-heartedly. "I have to write. I don't want to waste my emotions with times like this." "You make people miserable." "No," Juho said firmly.

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104 Chapter 104 - Face It 5

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "You seemed unstable from the first time I saw you." They met while the man was on the verge of giving something up. From the beginning of their encounter, he was cornered to the edge of a cliff. That had to be why he had done something so foolish. An author giving up writing. An author praised as a genius. One who stood on the edge of a cliff tended to lose their footing easily. "That's right," he admitted in a weak voice. His emotions seemed to be rather unpredictable. "I was forced to quit because my books weren't selling," the man explained as if giving him an excuse. "People only look for Yun Woo and his books. They only talk about him. My books are collecting dust in a corner of bookstore, rotting away. It's nothing like your fancy book. That was it. That was the result of my work." Countless books had met the same unfortunate fate. Even books written with every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears ended up getting lost and forgotten. "You're young. You haven't even been writing as long as I have. You didn't even have to try as hard as I have. That's why I can't accept this reality. It makes no sense." "So, what will change if you steal my flash drive?" "Nothing…" he murmured. "I wanted to see you getting angry at the very least. I desperately wanted to see you getting anxious. I wanted to prove to myself that I'm not the only person who felt this way." Unfortunately, things had not turned out the way he had hoped, just as how Juho had hoped for a ghost or a dog that hadn't really existed. He may have given up writing, but Juho was still an author. "You won." "This was never something worth competing over," said Juho, still smiling. "This was your choice." Giving up had been his choice. "No," the man denied. "Who told you to give up then?" asked Juho. "The world," said the man. If that had been true, he had been fighting an opponent that he couldn't beat. Had he been overcome, or did he announce an opponent he knew he didn't stand a chance against so that he could give his decision meaning? He was playing his own god. Much like God, words provided a reason for those in need of one, all without revealing themselves. "So where is it?" Juho asked calmly. Though he wasn't explicit, the man understood immediately. "Nowhere." "What did you do with it?" "Did you check the backyard?" "No." "There are a lot rocks there, so I picked one up." Juho pictured him crushing the flash drive with a rock in his hand. "Did you break it?" "Completely. I threw it away." "Where?" "Down the toilet." A cruel fate. Kidnapped, damaged and then disposed of. By that point, the remnants would be floating down the Han River somewhere. "What if it had clogged the toilet?" "It was too small for that." The room fell silent, and the air became damp. He was overcome with the realization of having committed something irrevocable. Juho looked up at the ceiling for a brief moment. It had to be dark out at the point. At that moment, an intoxicating smell came into the room. "If I were you, I'd have waited until after dinner." "... What?" "It's your last." "... My last?" he asked, looking perplexed. "Are you telling me that you're not smelling this?" By reflex, the man inhaled at the word 'smell,' clumsily and awkwardly as if he had never done it before. Only then did he finally realize that he had been holding his breath. His senses returned, suffocating him with realities that he had wanted to avoid all along. He stared at Yun Woo standing in front of him. The young author asked him mercilessly, "Where are we?" 'Mrs. Baek's house." "What have you done?" 'Thud.' He felt his heart drop. His hands started to shake. "What have I…" With all the discontentment aside, he started to see things more clearly. Dark emotions were flowing about him, and he couldn't do anything to resist them. 'Where am I? What have I done?' "Now you seem to be aware of your surroundings. You used to be an author you know," said Juho, emphasizing the fact that he was no longer an author. The man felt vulnerable to those seemingly ruthless and forceful words as they coiled around him like a snake. He felt exposed and powerless. "Now, think again." "... about what?" "About yourself." Like Juho had said, he thought about himself. 'I'm an author, no I used to be an author. It was my choice to give up writing. Nobody forced me to quit. This world has nothing to do with it.' "Pathetic," he said, smiling. He had been feeling that way since well before he met Yun Woo in person. He felt chills running down his spine. "I didn't want to write anymore." His joy of becoming an author was short-lived. There was a sea of well-written books around him, making him focus on his weaknesses. He couldn't think of a way to compete. It was during that time of his life that Yun Woo appeared. His writing was both colorful and beautiful. It almost felt like his book was the only book existing under the sun. His book had been on a different level, and the contrast was rather striking. Though much younger, Yun Woo was much more skilled as a writer than he had ever been. A child had surpassed him. He had reached his limits and he couldn't go on any longer. He lost the will to fight. "I lost my awareness of my surroundings long ago." He had turned his eyes away from himself. In order to avoid his own stench, he had been holding his breath. The world had become smaller and smaller. It made sense that he couldn't go on writing. He had given up and reached for whatever reason that he could grasp and cover himself with it. However… "I still couldn't hide from you. You're simply too big and shiny." He paused, "But when I saw you here… you were writing in the same place where I was giving it all up. That's why I did it." He looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were covered by his bushy hair. He had come to visit his teacher in that untidy appearance. He felt miserable, and nobody had made him that way but himself. "I'm sorry… "... Mrs. Baek." Yun Seo was standing quietly by the door. He recognized her presence from the intoxicating smell of grilled meat. Having confessed, he dropped his head. Standing next to Yun Seo, Geun Woo added, "Both Joon Soo and I were struggling with our books not selling. Joon Soo is giving a lecture even at this very moment. I even threw my manuscript away, but you know what? We never tried to steal what belonged to another person and ranted about our situations. We still wanted to be authors, even if that meant our books not selling. We might not have been popular, but we were still authors." "... You're right. I've been just hiding behind the title 'author.'" He had simply been dishonest about his decision to give up. He looked at Yun Woo and came to realize the person reflecting on those clear eyes. Yun Woo didn't criticize him. The man didn't see himself in those eyes. Yun Woo didn't even think about someone like him. 'What have I been doing?' the man had reconnected with reality. "I'm sorry," he said in a cracked voice. He apologized in front of his teacher, fellow author, and Yun Woo. "... I'm so sorry," his voice wavered. Juho was the only one standing with his shoulders wide open. "It's OK. You don't have to worry about paying me back," said Juho light-heartedly. He didn't intend on blowing things out of proportion. Besides, he did manage to get something out of the experience: those who take from others. War. Death. God. The shape of the narrator began to take form slowly. In the end, the man left without staying for dinner. --- "I'm home." "Hey! You said you'd have eaten by the time you came back, right?" "Yes." Having greeted his mother, Juho walked into his room. Changing into his home clothes, he lay on the bed and felt his eyes getting heavy. Realizing how tired he felt, he let out a sigh. At that moment, the door opened. "If you're still hungry, do you want me to make you something?" It was his mother. She was asking even though she was aware of the fact that her son had already eaten. "It's OK. I had a big dinner." "That's good. Are you OK?" "Yes." After saying goodnight, she closed the door and left. Juho sat up from the bed and sat himself in front of his computer. In it, was the same content as the one in the flash drive. Bushy hair. Juho hadn't recognized his name. He and his books hadn't been very popular, making him give up writing. For that reason, he was moved to destroy something that hadn't belonged to him. While thinking about him, Juho remembered the conversation he had had with Yun Seo on his way out. "Do you think it will stay with you?" she asked. He had just eaten, so he rubbed his stomach by reflex. "You mean the meat?" Yun Seo laughed with relief. "Do you think you can handle it?" she asked again, concerned. "If you can't, you can always give it to me." "You make it sound like it's an object." "It might as well be. If you keep it in you, it'll eventually rot away." "I better digest it before it goes bad." Though Juho answered with a smile, Yun Seo didn't let up. "It must've been upsetting." "I definitely wasn't happy." "Do you feel like you like this world a little bit less now?" "Thankfully, it wasn't to that extent. After all, it all happened because I was simply too capable." Looking in his direction, Yun Seo nodded, pushing him gently. "Then go write. Don't hold back." She knew well of the way Juho worked with his emotions. Before going on his way, Juho asked, "Are you OK, Mrs. Baek?" The man had been her own pupil. Seeing as how her own pupil had spiraled down into darkness, she had to be in pain. "I've seen this often. It is never easy, but I know that the pain won't last forever," she said with a smile. Juho slowly rose from his chair and turned on his computer. The screen lit up, showing everything he had written up to that point. Everything had been intact with nothing missing or damaged. What the man had crushed and flushed down the toilet had been none other than himself as an author. 'There had been a war, a war to take away from others. In order to take something that one didn't possess, weapons had been made, and hearts had boiled in anger despite knowing that the outcome would be unfortunate and miserable. If there was a God…' "If I were God." He would have been dying to leave mankind behind. 'Don't hold back,' somebody had told him earlier that day. Juho calmly moved his pen. The protagonist wrapped in a luxurious fabric lived at a point in the history where there was no God. War had come to an end. God had left the world. Only stories existed in that world, and it was as if God had really existed in the past. The beginning of the journey took place in his hometown. He, too, had parents who had raised him. They were beings who had birthed him into the world. Juho thought of the man's bushy hair. He was someone who couldn't accept the fact that he had given up. The protagonist's father had wrapped himself in fancy clothing. He was wealthy, but he couldn't bear to be alone. He interacted with and made love to as many people as he possibly could. As a result, he had many families and offsprings. "I'll give you an allowance." As if by habit, the father always said that. "You're cowardly, father," said the son, the protagonist. In his eyes, his father was a coward. Because he lacked the courage to give something up, he ended up ruining countless lives, including his own. The son ended up alone. The son was sensitive to language. He had his ears open to others' opinions as well as his father's. He thoroughly understood the situations he faced. He was being clothed, fed, and educated with his father's wealth. With the exception of his father, the son expressed his anger to every single person around him. He grew less and less tolerant. Angry. Detached. Then, he changed.

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105 Chapter 105 - The Language

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Juho walked on the sidewalk surrounded. Cars zoomed past on one side while people walked busily on the other. There were hardly any trees. Walking on the streets like that resulted in all sorts of encounters. Pieces of gum, saliva, dog stools, trash, dead insects, leaves and, sometimes, even pieces of raw meat. Of course, those weren't the only things found on the streets. From time to time, there was a ring or money that pedestrians had dropped. Juho had come out to find those very things. He had come out to think of a gift for the protagonist of his new novel. Though he had said that he didn't want anything in particular, giving gifts was up to the giver. Juho thought about what the protagonist might like and remembered that, in their last encounter, they came to learn that they had a lot in common. Though the protagonist took offense to being compared to Juho, he too was sensitive to language. There were enormous plateaus and high mountains in the world he came from. Every region was divided by a clear boundary, and they had different cultures and languages. Language. As a gift for him, Juho wanted to create a world where there was diversity of language. Now, he was out on a walk in search for clues and ideas for those languages. Sounds of wind, cars, and people. Keeping his ears open, Juho kept walking. "Careful. Easy." "Move, please." "Ugh, this thing's heavy!" A group of people moving a heavy object came into Juho's view. A large moving truck. Boxes. Wrapped up furniture. It was apparent that somebody was moving. A large wardrobe stood with its mouth wide open. The mother-of-pearl inlays showed their age. Juho was impressed by its appearance, which was both detailed and beautiful. Sadly, it was being thrown out. "What are you doin'?" With a cigarette in her mouth, a woman wearing shorts and a sleeveless shirt was looking in Juho's direction. Judging from the way she was dressed, she seemed to be from the neighborhood. Perhaps, she was a neighbor of the family who was moving out. Her appearance had a striking resemblance to the mother in 'The Sound of Wailing.' Because the novel wasn't all that far from the reality, there had to be people who looked similar. Juho answered her question honestly, "I'm watching." "What is there to watch?" "A bunch of things. People moving things, or the wardrobe right there." "You're a weird one. Well, whatever floats your boat," said the woman, taking a deep drag off her cigarette. Juho redirected his attention to the furniture that was being thrown out. Smaller things were consolidated into a box. Toys, bowls, a vase, screws, bells, and an arrow. Juho picked up the arrow. Though it was covered in rust, it still looked like an arrow. 'Why did they have an arrow? What do these people do?' Juho wondered. The pile of trash was proving to be much more fun than it looked. "An arrow?" said the woman. She must have been bored smoking on her own. Because he didn't mind the company, Juho willingly answered, "Yep. That's an arrow." The arrow looked like it would snap in half at any given opportunity. It was clear that it hadn't been taken good care of. Juho examined it and wondered, 'What kind of language would a race who used arrows regularly speak?' It would be a language that resembled a sharp, pointy arrow. "Why do you think those people had an arrow?" "Maybe they wanted to go hunting," said the woman half-heartedly, taking another drag of her cigarette. Juho played along. "On horseback?" "Probably? With a dog too, maybe." "They might have worn clothes made of leather." "Maybe they're from somewhere cold." They each shared their respective image of what a hunter looked like. Though she may have been killing time idly, Juho was in the middle of a creative process. "What kind of language do you think those people would speak?" "Language? What kind of question is that?" she asked, her forehead scrunching into a scowl. She seemed to be having trouble understanding him. Despite the look on her face however, she gave an answer, "Probably not too different from the one we speak." "Why is that?" Juho asked. A race who carried arrows for hunting, rode on horses, wore leather clothing and… "Well, whether it's hunting or any other job out there, it's all done by humans. Languages are essentially the same at the end of the day." "There are hundreds of different languages around the world." "Is that so?" "What about letters that look like arrows?" Juho took the opportunity to ask. Breathing out a cloud of smoke, she tilted her head, "I guess it'd look fine." Again, a half-hearted answer. Her demeanor made it apparent that she had lost interest. Juho smiled at her blunt attitude. "I'll go with that then." "Are you working on something? Like writing?" Though having asked herself, she gave no time for Juho to answer and said, "Well, break a leg kid." She asked no further questions and smoked her cigarette in silence. The furniture was moving from one place to another. Once she finished smoking, she tossed the cigarette butt on the ground and put it out. With that, she walked away. "Take care," Juho said. With her hands in her pocket, she looked back briefly and went on her way. After picking up her cigarette butt from the ground and tossing it into a trashcan, Juho brushed his hand against the wardrobe once and went on his way. --- "Number 18, read the text out loud for us." "Yes, ma'am." Number 18 stumbled her way through the text. Her pronunciation made it apparent that she didn't speak the language regularly. Juho lowered his head and looked at his textbook. The alphabet was written down - a western set of letters. Staring at it intently, he listed the languages he had learned up to that point. Greek, Medieval English, Old English, Latin, Old Scandinavian, Gothic, Medieval Welsh, Finnish, Spanish, Italian, Swedish, Danish, Norwegian, Dutch, Lombardic, Russian, Cantonese, Mandarin, Hu, Japanese, etc. Listening to number 18, Juho moved his hand busily. He had had an idea for what the characters in the novel should look like. He had found a clue during his encounter with the woman smoking her cigarette. Text had its origin in paintings. Ancient humans left records of their cultures in paintings. Painting had always been visual. Like an arrow, it always had a target. Baron often sketched the club members. Paintings had limits when it came to describing what was being seen. The world grew more and more complex from its inception, and inevitably, the number of things that couldn't be explained with paintings grew. Humans learned to speak in different ways. Indirectly, sarcastically, exaggeratedly, and many more. The desire of wanting to express unseen emotions has lead to the evolution of the written language. The language Juho was about to create for his novel would be the same way. It had changed over time, just as any language had. For the time being, he divided languages into two separate categories: one western and the other eastern. He thought about the hieroglyphs commonly seen in artifacts of various ancient civilizations. Made after shapes of their subject, Chinese characters were one of the more typical hieroglyph. Straight lines, curved, dots, and again, straight lines again. It was still closer to being a drawing than a letter. The shape of a character evolved over time to make it easier to write and closer to its sound rather than meaning. In order to replicate that, Juho felt the need to remove the preexisting nature of a language. A bow snapped in half while an arrow was left with only its head. The language in Juho's mind began to take more shape, becoming gradually sharper. Over time, it evolved into shapes that could be easily written with a writing tool as basic as a tree branch. In some sense, the characters resembled spears, swords, and bows. Taking those letters, Juho divided them and distributed them to various races. Spear-like characters for the race that used spears as its primary choice of weapon, sword-like characters for those who used swords, bow-like characters for those who used bows, etc. Weapons became worn out over time and throughout their use. In a similar manner, a language developed or devolved depending on culture and lifestyle. A weapon was not necessary for those who weren't hunters. The only time it would be used in a way that was remotely close its intended purpose was in the kitchen. That wasn't bad. It was a natural change that came with the choices made. As time passed, hieroglyphs began to fade into history while phonograms came into existence. Juho sped up the evolution of language in his world. The characters took on shapes that were even simpler and spread throughout the world by mouth. Certain languages became more widely used than others. The empty space in the textbook filled up with a language no one had ever seen before. He focused on the eastern languages. Of course, the first example that came to mind was Chinese. Despite being hieroglyphic in nature, it had survived the test of time. While every other civilization adopted a new language that focused on sound, the Chinese were standing strong against that worldwide evolution, and it was one of the most widely spoken languages to that very day. "There was a sound of wave breaking in the distance." Number 18 read from her textbook out loud. A language that remained unchanged throughout the course of time. That was what Juho wanted to make for the protagonist and his world. Juho began to draw his ideas on his textbook. Straight lines, curves, and dots. There was something special about that language. The characters were bunched up tightly, making it difficult to snap in half like a bow. Juho contemplated on how he could go about making it distinguishable. It was difficult to write, and the characters left very little room for simplification. He found himself having two choices. Either the race had to endure the inconvenience of writing or create another written language that was based on the preexisting characters. Regions under the influence of the eastern language would choose to take either directions, leading to the birth of various other languages. Unfortunately, those languages tended to be exceedingly complex and were often outlasted by other simpler languages. Though beautiful and delicate, they eventually became lost and forgotten. Taking those characteristics, Juho decided to make the language nearly impossible to interpret. The role of arranging and translating that language would belong to the protagonist. Because a language had its time in history, another one had to be used. Using a language from another region would be incredibly undignifying. The ruler commanded his people to create a language of their own. This would be the beginning of the story. Having run out of space, Juho turned the page of his textbook and continued scribbling. A new language. West and East. Flipping words and their shapes back and forth, he came up with languages to be spoken by the people in various regions. Those who lived in between regions would often learn both languages. Certain languages would be praised whereas others would be neglected and looked down on. Having rolled the idea around in his head, Juho tried to bring the languages into his mouth in order to think of the pronunciation of their words. Savoring it in his mouth slowly, he thought of phonetics that were both fluid and difficult to understand. He jotted them down next to the characters he had created on the textbook. Some sounding thin and sharp, some thick and dull. As the language began to take shape, the lifestyle of the people also began to take shape. From the way they dressed, and what they ate, Juho began to understand their culture. It was exhilarating. While examining the language he had created, he remembered the being he had been forgetting about. God. There was a God who had hid himself in the high mountains. He wanted to create a separate language for Him. Searching for elements that would make up the language spoken by God, Juho revisited the memory of his recent walk on the street. Gum, stools, pieces of meat, ring, money, wall, people, cars, noise, leaves, furniture. Nothing was useful. Juho began to move his pen subconsciously, writing 'God, God, God,' in Hangul. 'God? It's a word. A character. Phonogram.' Various smaller elements came together, becoming one. Juho recognized the Creator immediately. He had learned to write Hangul before any other language, and he had been well-acquainted of its beauty and magnificence. Filling his textbook in black ink, he gathered all the source materials he would need to create the ideal world for his novel.

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106 Chapter 106 - The God in the Mountains

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Ah, that's nice," Juho murmured, sipping on his beverage after a run through the park. Having come out later than usual, Juho slowly made his way back home as he watched other people walking. Sung Pil hadn't been joining Juho in his morning exercise because of a book he was working on. Juho asked no further. He only hoped that Sung Pil would finish strong. "Hey, move!" "No! You move!" Juho stopped in his tracks at an argument sounding from the playground. A brother and sister were bickering in the sandbox. 'Sand. Bickering.' Juho couldn't pass that on. He slowly sat himself on a nearby bench. There were all sorts of things in the playground. A jungle gym, a seesaw, a miniature castle with a ladder cutting across it, a tower with ropes tangling from it, etc. There was a long line by the seesaw, and the kids on the seesaw and in the line glanced at each other uncomfortably. Juho looked at the brother and sister intently. With its boundary surrounded by old car tires, the sandbox was rather large. A few of those tires seemed to have finally caved in after withstanding the weight of countless children. While the girl was building a sand castle, her brother was waiting for an opportunity to knock it down. Realizing his intention, the sister picked up a toy shovel in her hand as a means of resistance. It was a war surrounding the castle. Sipping on his beverage, Juho spectated the battle curiously. Who would win? Despite the fierce dispute between brother and sister, other children in the playground seemed to be completely unfazed by them. "Hey, I see a butterfly!" "So?" The brother tried desperately to distract his sister. However, the sister kept her guard up. She was not an easy opponent. Realizing that his strategy had failed, he made another move. "Mom was looking for you." Her expression grew darker with anxiety, looking back and forth between the castle and her family in the distance. It was hard to tell if he was telling the truth. She contemplated. "Then, you come with me." She had made a decision. She would be able to answer her mother's call while the castle remained intact. A great strategy. Juho was impressed by her. "There ya go!" exclaimed Juho in an exaggerated voice. On the other hand, the brother wasn't quick to show his emotions. With a toy shovel in her hand, the sister rose from her place. Then... "Hehehe!" "Huh!?" The second she let her guard down, his foot landed on top of the castle. Just like that, the sand castle fell to the mischievous brother. 'What happens now?' Juho kept his eyes fixated on the two children. The sister raged at the sight of her castle reduced to mere pile of sand. It was obvious that she was looking to retaliate. At that moment, she raised her hand holding the toy shovel. Before Juho had time to intervene, the girl swung the toy shovel, hitting the brother's head. Looking frightened, the brother put his hand on his head. Then… "Wahhh!" He started to cry. The sister appeared to be taken aback by her brother's reaction. Who would have thought a toy shovel would make for such an effective weapon? "What's wrong, honey!?" The mother came rushing toward them and held the boy. Gasping for breath, he testified about what his sister had done. With the toy shovel still in her hand, the sister anxiously clasped onto her skirt. "She hit me. With that. WAH!" he sobbed sorrowfully, pointing at the shovel in his sister's hand. Eventually… "He did it first! WAH!" The sister started to cry. Other children and parents in the playground stared in their direction. Recognizing the attention they were drawing, the mother forcefully wiped the tears off of her children's faces and carried them away from the playground. While other children sang cheerfully as they played in the sand pool, the castle remained in ruins. Loneliness lingered about those ruins. Looking at the sand, Juho was reminded of the man and woman he had met at the beach. With that, he focused on thinking about the novel. The place where the protagonist would be leaving from and arriving to. A language tended to be affected by its surrounding environment. The structure and development of the language depended on the choices made by its speakers. What kind of language would God use? In order to communicate with God, one had to know that language. The image of the protagonist's irritated face crossed Juho's mind, having finally met God after a long, perilous journey, yet unable to communicate with Him. Juho chuckled at the image. He had decided to use Hangul as the root of the language spoken by God. He planned on creating something that was based on it, bearing some resemblance. God was alone in the high mountains. The only thing visible from His place would be the sky. Juho wanted to create more words that described the sky, where there were the sun and the clouds that led to light and wind. He started to get a feel for the things he needed to emphasize. In his mind, Juho took the Hangul characters apart, going back to their most basic, initial forms. Leaving only their skeletal structures intact, he tried giving them a different color. 'What would be a fitting color for God?' "'S'cuse me sir. Could you move your feet?" 'Feet?' Juho looked down. There was a girl sweating profusely. She had to have run around quite a bit. He examined his feet, but saw nothing but sand. "Why?" "My ball rolled underneath the bench," said the girl, pointing under the bench. Juho bent down and looked underneath and felt blood rushing to his head. A ball, just behind where his feet had been, came into view. Without hesitation, he handed it to her. "Thank you," the girl thanked him politely. After giving her a nod, Juho retraced his thoughts. 'Now, where was I?' "S'cuse me," the girl was still standing in her place. She must have had something to ask. "Yes?" "What are you doing?" she asked curiously. It wasn't clear what had gotten her attention, but Juho answered light-heartedly, "I was thinking about God." "God?" "Do you know who that is?" "Duh, even I know English. 'Gahd,'" the girl said with a scoff. "'Gahd?'" "Yes, that." "Impressive," Juho complimented her. She shrugged proudly. "Then, do you know what a mythology is?" "Mythology?" "Yep." She gave no answer that time. Perhaps she knew about God, but not mythology, "The band." "Impressive!" Juho complimented her again. She was a smart child and she seemed to be in high spirits. "What kind of language do you think God speaks?" "Language?" It looked like she was having trouble understanding him that time, so Juho rephrased the question, "You said you know English, right? Do you think God speaks English?" "I don't think so." "Why?" "Just because." No apparent reason. Simply, just because. It had been an intuitive answer, and Juho decided to see things from the child's perspective. "If God said that He'd grant you one wish, what would it be?" At the word 'wish,' the girl started to twist her body. She was probably shy about talking about what she wanted. "So, I was watching TV yesterday." "Uh, huh." "I saw something that I've been really craving." "What is it?" "It has red broth." "Red broth, huh. Is it spicy?" "Yes. That's why my mom never buys it for me." Smart child. She already knew that having a wish meant longing for something that couldn't be possessed. "Are there noodles in it?" "No, rice cakes." She was talking about tteokbokki. At the sight of an innocent child asking God for some tteokbokki, Juho couldn't help but chuckle. The almighty God before her eyes, and yet, she would ask for mere tteokbokki. If Juho were in her shoes, he would have asked for something much larger. For example… "I'd ask for money." "Huh?" A slightly older boy was standing next to her. "Money?" "Yeah. Money's the best," the boy said, looking and sounding confident. "Really?" "I was told that all things yield to money." "Who told you that?" "My mom." The boy glanced over in a direction, and a woman who appeared to be his mother was standing in front of a stroller. "Hey, you should ask for money too," the boy said to the girl. "Why?" "You can buy yourself tteokbokki with it." "No! I want my mom's tteokbokki!" "You're stupid. It costs money to make tteokbokki too." "We're rich." "We're rich too!" A new conversation had emerged between the two children. Listening to them, Juho quickly spotted the girl's mother. She was standing by the swings, holding the hand of a boy who appeared to be the girl's brother. Their eyes met, and Juho greeted her with a smile and nod. The mother nodded back with a smile, but her eyes were fixed on her daughter. Finally, she called for her daughter. Without even saying goodbye, the girl ran toward her mother. The boy too ran toward the pull-up bars. Juho thought as he watched them from behind, 'Money… The value of it changes constantly. It's different in every region. It could mean everything in some places, but it might not even exist in others.' Juho organized his thoughts, thinking about the characteristics he wanted to grant the different regions in his novel. "I'm getting hungry." Tteokbokki. Red broth. --- God lived alone in the high mountains. In order to meet God, the protagonist embarked on a journey. Unfortunately, Juho had no intention of making it smooth sail for him. 'I need obstacles. Red liquid. Like blood.' It was more than enough as an element of danger. The mountains where God lived were on an island surrounded by streams of crimson-colored water, hot enough to cover the faces of those nearby in tears and snot. It was poisonous. If it ended up in a person's mouth, it would severely damage their stomachs. Juho thought about the song the children had been singing repeatedly at the playground. It had been a familiar melody. He walked toward the empty sandbox. There were arches made by the children who had been playing there. They were large and thick, but abandoned. He imagined hiding God in them. A red ocean, a northern island, glaciers and a hole within it surrounded by arches. It lacked one thing. "The sky wouldn't be visible from a place like that." He poked another hole on the opposite end. The arch barely managed to maintain its shape. The new hole made the interior of the arch more visible. The outside would be visible from the inside as well. There was another pair of holes on the top that resembled a pair of eyes. 'What would it be like to look out from within? It'd look like the sky had a pair of eyes. Like God.' Until the arrival of the girl, Juho had been thinking of ways to give the language that would be spoken by God a color. 'What did the kid say?' Feet. Juho looked down, and saw nothing but his shoes. However, he knew full well what was inside them. He tried moving his toes. 'There's a person inside them. The color of a person. Varied yet distinct colors.' 'Would the God in the mountains be an actual God? Would God listen to what the protagonist had to say?' Juho thought as he slowly made his way out of the sandbox.

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107 Chapter 107 - Shared Table 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Sigh. I don't even know anymore." Bom let out a faint sigh. She had been stuck in a rut for an entire hour. 'I don't understand. I have a plot, and all I gotta do is follow the trail. Why is this so hard?' She stared at her work on the screen. Her pace started to slow down noticeably from the previous day, when she first found out about having her novel displayed in the library. She was wavering on whether or not she wanted to have her work on display for public viewing. Not many people would read it because there weren't that many students in the library at any one point. However, she still felt nervous. It had nothing to do with how many people would read her work. It was the very existence of readers that she found to be burdensome. Having been a reader thus far, she was feeling the weight of being a writer for the first time. 'How would people judge my novel? What would they think of and reflect upon?' Deep inside, she wanted to be complimented by her readers. She wanted to keep her weaknesses hidden and only hear good things, but she didn't feel confident. Bom read through her novel and was left feeling unsatisfied. It was nowhere near good enough to let others read it. 'This won't do. I better write it again.' Just like that, she deleted everything she had written thus far. The empty screen began to suffocate her, leaving her feeling helpless. At that moment, she turned around to look at Juho, who had been concentrating hard on something. He was the only person in the computer room who had completed his manuscript, a long time ago at that. 'How did he do it? This is so depressing and anxiety-inducing. So, how was he able to stay in a place like this and move forward?' The bell rang and signaled the end of the club activity. The club members took their hands off of the keyboard one by one. "Ugh. My shoulders are killing me," said Sun Hwa, stretching her arms toward the ceiling. It wasn't until then that Bom looked away from Juho. Having been stared at intently by her, Juho also stopped writing and showed his face above the monitor. "Working hard, I see?" "Of course! But it feels like it's not going anywhere." "Me too," Bom interjected quickly. She was probably not the only one who was struggling. Looking at the sad expressions on their faces, Juho asked light-heartedly, "Are you guys stuck?" "Yeah… and I don't know why," said Sun Hwa, sighing. "I'm distracted thinking about my work being on display…" At Bom's answer, Sun Hwa buried her face in her arms on the desk. She had also been fighting that same battle. "So, are you going to have it on display?" Seo Kwang asked light-heartedly, with not a worry in the world. "You're not, huh?" Sun Hwa asked. "Nope." "What brought you to that decision?" "I have no desire." "What desire?" "The desire to be an author." It was the same for Sun Hwa. Pursuing writing as a livelihood had never crossed her mind. It had been no more than a club activity, and it would remain as a fond memory one day. "I'm not planning on being an author either," said Bom. Yet, there was something bothering her. Something didn't quite add up. Like Seo Kwang, she should have been able to make a decision and be at peace. What made it so complicated? "You already are authors," said Juho. "Who?" "All of us. Aren't we all writing? That makes each and every one of us an author." "A real author would laugh at what you said." "It doesn't matter if I get laughed at or not. An author is an author." "Why are you saying that to me though?" "I guess it's because you really look like one wrestling with your own work?" "... Really?" It hadn't been an ill-intended remark. The thought of considering herself as an author had never crossed Sun Hwa's mind. Now, after having listened to Juho, she started to feel more convinced. According to Juho's logic, she was already an author. "Well, I'm planning on being an author for myself and myself alone, so I've got nothing to worry about." Sun Hwa grew irritated by Seo Kwang's light-hearted remarks. As fun as the Literature Club was, making such a big decision had been just the opposite. She found no joy in wrestling with her own work. Writing wasn't always fun. At that moment, Bom asked, "So… Do you think I should have it on display?" She seemed rather worried. Resting his chin on his hand, Juho answered absent-mindedly, "Why?" "Huh?" she became flustered by Juho's answers. "Well, unlike Seo Kwang, I do have somewhat of a desire to be an author. Anyway, I want to show it to other people, but I am a little concerned. Authors write things to be read by others, right?" A complicated answer. Bom found herself getting lost in her thoughts, but Juho interjected. "Then, do it," he said light-heartedly. "Wow, really? How could you be so nonchalant about this? Is it because it has nothing to do with you!?" Sun Hwa objected angrily. "Nonchalant? Are you telling me that you didn't hear me rooting for Bom?" "Not one bit," said Bom, looking sad. "It sounds like you wanted people to read your novel, but you're afraid, so now you can't even write. Right?" asked Juho, summarizing her thoughts into concise words. "... Probably." "Somebody told me that I shouldn't be afraid of something preemptively." Just as Bom had a realization, the bell rang. Grumbling, everyone resumed the work on their computers. Bom was one of them. Having watched it all from his seat, Juho also redirected his attention to his screen. He had been rather satisfied with his seat. There was very little chance of getting caught by the other club members for doing other things. It gave him the advantage of being able to respond quickly to any approaching person. In other words, no one would know what he was working on. Juho thought, organizing the overall background in his mind, 'Now, companions.' Unlike the protagonist of 'Grains of Sand,' the protagonist in the full-length novel had a companion who accompanied him on his journey. Juho peeked over his monitor. The club members came into view. They were his writing companions. It was a small club made of four freshmen, including himself, a sophomore, and a teacher. 'A party of four should be enough. Maybe I should make them all the same age while I'm at it?' he thought. 'Although having gone to the same school, the four companions had never interacted with one another as students. It wasn't until their adulthood, as four very different individuals who had been walking their own separate paths, that they came together to embark on a journey.' Juho wrote busily. 'The protagonist had a reputation for his unpleasant personality. One day, he discovered the location where God had been hiding, but that knowledge made him a laughing stock. He was mocked and ridiculed by his teachers, coworkers, parents, and even the local children. The man's relationship with those around him became more and more twisted. Nobody trusted the man, and people started to warn one another to refrain from getting any closer than necessary. However, there were exceptions. Three, to be precise.' The image of each companion rushed past Juho's mind. He thought of the conditions he wanted to apply to the three companions. While being the same age as the protagonist, they each had to have a business with God. Meanwhile, they each retained their own distinct perspective of their world. As long as those conditions were kept, the personalities of the companions mattered little. An idealist or a realist. A cold or passionate person. While there would be conflicting personalities, some would get along rather well. Each having led a life distinct from one another, the four friends repeated the process of helping and hurting each other. Juho gave each of them more shape and asked the question, 'How have you all been making a living?' Juho thought of the language he had created in his textbook. Because they would be in a mountainous region, it made sense for the surrounding environments to be green. And because of the preexisting agriculture, the language of the region would be optimized for describing the climate. 'Plants, farming, crop, climate. It'd be nice to have a cook in the party,' Juho thought. The cook would be able to showcase the unique food culture of that region. In order to maximize that role, the cook needed to have a distinct characteristic. At that moment, Juho remembered the research data he had looked at while being in Geun Woo's studio. Cannibalism. Juho felt his stomach turning. 'Maybe the cook can be a vegetarian,' he thought to himself. He continued in his train of thought. 'A person closely attached to the region's lifestyle. The kind of person who is needed the most in that world. What about art? How would art have developed in that region? Pottery!' While conversing with Seo Joong at his house, Juho had once brought up a potter. 'A potter. An artist. It'd be interesting to have someone who wanted to show off his creation to God.' On the other hand, Juho felt the need for a companion who was medically trained or sensitive to current events or politics. 'Doctor, soldier. A medic?' Suddenly, he thought of a face that gave off an aggressive impression; someone who would think of inflicting pain before asking questions. 'A misanthropic translator, a vegetarian cook, a narcissistic potter, and an aggressive medic. That should do it. They're all about to leave for a journey, so it would make more sense if their careers were something of the past,' Juho thought. Each one of the companions was capable of stirring up enough trouble on their own. Juho imagined the four leaving their homes and careers behind in order to embark on their journey. --- "Hello," Juho answered the phone in a hoarse voice. He had been writing for quite some time without speaking. "What the? You haven't just woken up, have you?" "Of course not. The sun's up and high. I've been working." "Aha! Working on another book, are we Mr. Woo?" Seo Joong said playfully on the other end of the line. "I'm not interrupting, am I?" "Oh, no! I was about to take a break anyway. Is everything OK?" "Well, it's not that something happened…" he hesitated. Juho waited patiently. "I was wondering if you wanted to go to Madame Song's restaurant with me. You said you're working, so I'm guessing you haven't eaten yet?" Juho remembered what Madame Song had said on his way out after his meal with Hyun Do Lim, 'Come get what you like next time you're here!' "Sounds great. Where should we meet?" --- Like before, the bell rang as the door opened. It was serving its purpose faithfully, and nothing seemed to have changed in the restaurant. "Please, follow me." Madame Song led them to a table. Wearing his black sweat pants and shirt proudly, Seo Joong walked into the restaurant. Juho followed. As they were about to go into a room, a voice sounded from behind them. "Oh, hey! Ahn!" "Eh?" Ahn. Despite the seemingly unfamiliar name, Seo Joong and Juho turned around in the direction of the voice. There were two people sitting in the room next door. "Long time no see!" "Still walking around in a daze, I see." "I'm awake." "Right, right." The woman was in a semi-formal attire. Leaning against her chair, her posture gave off a somewhat threatening impression. "I don't think I've met your friend here. Where's Dong Gil?" "Who knows? Probably reading Hemingway somewhere." Juho greeted the woman, "Hello." "Hi, are you the brother?" Her tone had suddenly become friendlier. Glancing at Seo Joong, Juho gave an answer, "Not biologically." "Is that so? I'm an author. I became one long before this guy." 'An author.' Juho quietly studied her face. She seemed somewhat familiar. It might have something to do with her being an author. 'Where did I see that face?' Pictures of authors floated around in his head. At that moment, Seo Joong whispered to him, "That's Dae Soo Na." "Ah…!" A cry of realization sounded from Juho. Dae Soo Na. Her novels tended to be aggressive and violent. Yet, because of her cinematic directing, she had a rather substantial fanbase. Of course. "Haircut?" Seo Joong asked as he looked at her short hair. Juho had been thinking the same thing. She looked quite different from the picture. It made sense that he hadn't recognized her immediately. "It's been getting hot lately, so I just just cut it short." "It suits you well." "I think so too. If you don't mind, do you want to join us?" Because it would have been awkward to stand around, Juho and Seo Joong nodded in agreement. Her companion, who had remained quiet, also nodded shyly.

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108 Chapter 108 - Shared Table 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl As Juho and Seo Joong took their seats, Dae Soo introduced her companion, "This, is a close friend of mine. Have you read 'Behind the Curtains?'" "Ah! Yes, I've enjoyed it quite a bit. You're talking about the Dr. Dong series, right?" 'Behind the Curtains' was a detective novel that introduced the character so called "Dr. Dong." Referred to as 'The Dr. Dong Series,' by readers, the series was going into its fifth book. "This is the mastermind behind that series," said Dae Soo, putting her hand on her companion's shoulder. Juho was already acquainted with her. "Mideum Choo, right?" "Seeing how you even know her by name, you must be quite a reader yourself." Being one of the names that always came up when discussing detective novels, Mideum had written multiple books of the genre. Juho looked at her sitting beside Dae Soo. When together, the two authors were a powerhouse when it came to their unapologetic plot development. "She might be a little shy, but once you get to know her, she's tons of fun to be around," said Seo Joong. He must have known her. At that moment, Juho's eyes met with her's. "Hello," Mideum greeted him. Though he was hearing her voice for the first time, he realized that he had met her before. "I know you," she said. She sounded bashful, but there was a strong sense of curiosity behind her words. Her tone was quite different from how Juho remembered it. 'It's her!' She was the person who had shouted joyfully in the restroom at Madame Song's restaurant. "Eh? How do you know each other?" asked Dae Soo. "Oh, I know him, but I don't think he knows me though," Mideum said confidently. "I saw him here. You were with Mr. Lim, right?" "Yes, I was," Juho answered. "So, are you really a relative of his? Is that how you were able to get in touch with Seo Joong?" she asked with her eyes sparkling with curiosity. Her initially shy demeanor seemed to have evaporated up to the sky. 'So, she writes detective novels, huh?' Juho thought. He came to realize that an author's reasoning skills were not necessarily proportionate to that of their detective protagonist. "Oh, yeah! You mean when we were talking on the phone that one time? So, you're the one she was talking about!" Dae Soo said as her memory finally caught up with her. "You're Mr. Lim's relative, right?" While Juho contemplated how to answer Mideum's question, Seo Joong was entertained while watching from the side. As the target of the uncomfortable attention, Juho parted his lips to say, "I'm not, unfortunately." Strong disappointment washed over Mideum, apparent in her expression. "Then, how do we explain this? Should we even be asking?" Dae Soo asked, looking confused. She seemed like she would be willing to back down from the question at any given minute. "You'll be surprised to know who I am," Juho said with a smile. "We have a detective right here," Seo Joong murmured. Wearing a doubtful look, Dae Soo took turns to looked at Juho and Seo Joong. "Wait a minute… How old are you?" "I'm seventeen." "You're not related to Seo Joong, and you didn't seem phased when I mentioned Dong Gil either. On top of that, Mr. Lim. We're also in a restaurant known to be a regular spot for writers…" "What are you saying, Dae Soo?" asked Mideum. "Hold on," said Dae Soo, still lost in thought. At that moment, she looked up at Juho with piercing eyes. "I did hear that Dong Gil met someone. Since we're already discussing identities here, you wouldn't mind if I took a guess, would you?" "Not at all." With Juho's permission, she blurted out her guess immediately, "Are you Yun Woo?" "Pleased to meet you," said Juho with a light nod. The room grew silent. Upon looking up, Juho's eyes met with Mideum's. "What…" she murmured in disbelief, "the...heck!? Are you for real!?" With that, Dae Soo let out a hearty laugh. The room became filled with her laughter and Mideum exclaiming still in disbelief. At that moment, the door opened and Madame Song walked in. Looking at the four people sitting around the table, she said, "This must be where all the authors are sitting." "This is real," said Mideum, slowly coming to grasp the reality of it. "Your timing couldn't have been better, Madame Song," Dae Soo said. A word tended to change its meaning depending on the situation. It was clear that Madame Song had included Juho as an author because it had happened immediately after Juho had revealed his identity. Seeing how Dae Soo and Mideum responded peculiarly, her cub-like appearance stiffened up, and she asked, "... Did I say something wrong?" "Oh, no! nothing." "... Huh." With that, she handed them the menu. Remembering his promise with her, Juho studied it carefully. From beef to salmon, there was quite an array of dishes using all sorts of ingredients. "You don't happen to carry crow meat, do you?" "Haha! Is that what you like?" "Oh, I'm just asking. I've been taking interest in them." "Well, how about a different bird, like chicken? I recommend it to my customers." "OK, sounds great." Once the rest of the crew had placed their orders, Madame Song left the room. As soon as she left, Dae Soo said to Mideum with remnants of excitement on her face, "You never know who you're gonna meet nowadays. What are the odds of running into Yun Woo here??" "I know, right!?" said Mideum, just as excited. "Also, I can see that your reasoning skills haven't improved much." "I know, right…?" she didn't sound so excited that time. In Madame Song's own words, the room was filled with authors. There was a reason for that restaurant to have developed a reputation as a regular spot for writers. "I was shocked too. I had no clue you guys would be here! Might as well enjoy ourselves a little while we're here. Should we order some drinks?" said Seo Joong. "Aren't you a lightweight?" asked Dae Soo, snickering. "You two aren't. Two Cokes, and two sojus. It evens out perfectly." "OK, if you insist. Why don't we order some wine?" Dae Soo agreed. "OK, Dae Soo," said Mideum. The Cokes and the glasses of wine made their way onto the table as it filled with the dishes they had ordered. Cutting a piece of his chicken, Juho brought it up to his mouth. The distinct flavor of the sauce worked in harmony with the tender meat. It was scrumptious. "This is delicious!" "Right? You can taste the love," Dae Soo said while eating. "I enjoyed 'The Sound of Wailing,' quite a bit. It was really potent." It was a concise review, and Juho thanked her. "So, you really are real… like, a person." "Did you think I was not a person?" "Well, how should I put it…? I was getting the impression that you didn't actually exist because hardly anything about you was known to the public. Of course, it's not like a machine could write a book or anything." With that, Dae Soo lowered her voice and asked, "I've been really curious about Yun Woo's writing process. Since we're here, you wouldn't mind if I ask a thing or two about it, would ya?" "Sure, but there's nothing special." "Oh, come on." "Really, I mean it." There was nothing special in his writing process. He simply thought of an idea, and turned it into writing. "So, how did you come to start writing?" Mideum asked curiously. "I was bored." "So, for fun?" "It was easygoing in the beginning." "That happens. Then, how did you come up with the mother in 'The Sound of Wailing?' She was incredible as a character. Was there a model in real life?" "No, there was no model." "So, it's all in your head?" Dae Soo interjected. "You can say that. Although, I got the idea of using the cigarette as the medium elsewhere." "Impressive. It couldn't have been easy to describe smoking in such great detail purely with imagination." Just as Dae Soo had said, one wouldn't be able to meet her within the boundaries of mere imagination. "So, I went a little deeper." "Deeper?" "Yes." "Where?" "Into a situation that I had created." "Sounds a tad bit too abstract." "I didn't have a choice. This is how I go about creating my characters. It's difficult to convey something while it's raw." "I see," Dau Soo said. "Well, this auntie doesn't give up on something just because it's difficult. Tell me more," she said, raising her glass. On that note, Juho organized his thoughts as he took a sip of water. He had never really talked about his writing process. He hadn't interacted with other authors in the past, and he had never received any formal training. In other words, he had had no one to talk to back then. Feeling somewhat odd, Juho began to explain. "So, what I do is actually quite simple. I simply see, feel and write." "What do you see, and how do you feel?" "I see and feel what I want to at the moment." "That's deep," Mideum interjected. Juho rephrased his words. "I think fantasy is a better word than imagination in my case. Remember I said I put myself in a situation that I had created myself? As long as there's a space detailed enough, a character is able to reveal their shape, whether it's complete or not. In terms of detailed space, anything goes really. The number of trees in the street, dents on walls, a trash pile in an alleyway. Anything can be used for detail. If I'm in a hurry, I can just call for the character to where I'm at in the moment." Because he was working on two stories simultaneously, Juho hadn't been able to go too far away from home or school. "So… do you call for your characters AFTER you've already brainstormed?" "No, it happens at the same time. The story becomes clearer as I interact with them." Dae Soo was furrowing her forehead. "Is it an improvised process?" "Yes. That's why the space I'm in doesn't tend to last long." "How do you think of the space you're in?" There was no good way to explain, and Dae Soo chuckled at Juho's silence. "Like I said, a little too abstract." "It is tricky to explain. It's not like I can show it either. It's hard to make it clear." "I don't think I'd be able to steal something like that," murmured Seo Joong. "How about you, Seo Joong? What's your process like?" asked Juho. "I usually start with research. Oh, wait, I might have done something similar back when I was living in a one-room. I used to find materials from within back then. Although, I wouldn't necessarily describe it as a situation or a fantasy." Having listened quietly, Mideum asked Juho, "What does it feel like when you meet your characters?" "It's hard to say." Juho though back to the time at the beach. It had been annoying to be stuck between the two characters as they quarreled. It had been less than pleasant to deal with someone who was rude and rough around the edges while it had been hardly easy to get someone to talk when they themselves didn't want to. Because he only had so much time, he remembered feeling anxious. "You become edgier and irritable." "How come? "Like I said, this process is closer to being a fantasy than imagination. I'm free to do as I please in my own imagination." "Is that not the case in a fantasy?" asked Seo Joong. Juho hadn't thought about the process all that much. It had become natural to him. 'How do I explain this?' "I just let things happen. The characters deserve their freedom, just as I deserve mine. Of course, it's always possible to interfere, but I try to keep it to a minimum. Only then, I can find what I'm looking for." "What is it that you're looking for? Story? Material?" asked Seo Joong. After staying silent for a brief time, Juho answered, "I would guess… personality?" 'Clap!' Seo Joong clapped. He had realized something. "I see. Your method makes one hungry." "What does that mean?" "It uses a lot of energy. In other words, it's demanding." 'Demanding, huh… is it?' Juho thought. Despite the perplexed look on Juho's face, Seo Joong went on with his interpretation. "So, it's like raising a child. There's puberty and climacterium to your fantasy." "Really?" "Your approach brings out as much personality as possible out of a character or a background, in other words, the novel itself. The characters do whatever the heck they want. So, in your own words, it's personality. The one and only in this entire world." Seo Joong's last sentence pierced Juho's heart. His interpretation helped Dae Soo and Mideum understand Juho's writing process better. "I'm so jealous! That's the dream of every literature major out there!" "Huh?" "You can see things like that without even having to draw from the power of alcohol! It's like a drug without the destructive side effect!" "Is she drunk?" asked Seo Joong. "Nah, I doubt it. She can handle alcohol a lot better than I can," Dae Soo said calmly as she took a sip of her wine. It was probably Mideum's natural personality coming out. "There's a reason why there are so many alcoholics among authors. F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, John Cheever. They all loved to drink. At the same time, they loved fantasy. Alcohol is the gate and the pathway that leads to fantasy. That's why authors drink even though they're aware the potential consequences. It's like a key to free the brain that's under the constraint of rationality and morality!" said Mideum, getting uncomfortably close to Juho. "But you! You're capable of traveling back and forth between reality and fantasy at an age when you'd know nothing about alcohol. All while you're sober! I'm so, so jealous! Incredible, just incredible!" As he pulled away from her, he saw the resemblance in the way she had shouted in the restaurant's restroom.

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109 Chapter 109 - Shared Table 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Calm down," said Dae Soo as she pulled Mideum back. "Sounds like you stay really close to writing. Maybe a little too close even. I tend to keep my distance from it. I can even be a little reckless at times. Although, I've noticed that your stories aren't entirely peaceful either. Does that take a toll on you at all?" "No. The space I'm in tends to crumble away. The moment I leave that space, that's when I start writing." "Closer to reality than imagination, but it can't be found in reality… Yet, it definitely exists. I think I'm starting to get it. It must be like seeing a ghost." A ghost. It was an interesting comparison. That was the way she interpreted Juho's writing process. Seo Joong nodded in agreement. "I lean more toward wanting to get closer to writing, but this guy tends to be a bit excessive at times." "I'd love to experience it still, at least once," said Mideum. "I know it arouses your curiosity, but you can easily lose yourself. Every author has his or her way." While staring at his dish, Juho chuckled as he remembered something. "It does pop out from time to time," Juho said using Dae Soo's words. "What does?" "The ghost." "OK, stop right there. I get really freaked out by stuff like that," said Seo Joong. However, Dae Soo and Mideum urged him to continue. "People contradict themselves sometimes." "Right." "Though I'm mostly content with the fact that I've finished writing and that I've done everything I needed to, there's a part of me that wants my books to be understood the way I wrote them. I don't know if it's just me." While the crow was always rather irritable, Juho smiled everytime it threw a fit. While it demanded to be praised, Juho insisted on writing. It was either that the crow was immature or that Juho was simply showing off. Two opposing hearts existed within him, which meant he was contradicting himself. "Oh, is it what I think it is?" "Oh, right." "That happens on a daily basis." All the authors in the room agreed. "It can't be helped. As long as we're human, we're selfish by nature," said Dae Soo. Juho took no offense to her describing humans as selfish beings. In order for him to taste the bitterness out of her mouth, she continued, "I feel how selfish I am every time I'm writing. What's funny is that I can identify with others. Because there are two contradicting hearts, my thoughts also split in two. It puts me in an awkward situation at times," she said, spreading her index. "I tell myself that I would write even if it meant writing for one single reader. That is closer to identifying with the reader because I'm writing with my reader in mind." She continued, spreading another finger, "On the other hand, part of me wants my books to be read by the entire planet because I want money and fame. Frankly, that's what every author wants. Greed is selfish by nature." Her hand made a 'V' shape. "Of course, we're not the only people who have these thoughts. All humans have the same thoughts, just dressed differently depending on the situation." "Everyone has a ghost of their own," murmured Mideum. "Of course, they'd be visible only to those who can see," Seo Joong added as he looked in Juho's direction, meeting eyes with him. "You said it 'pops out,' right?" "Yes." "You're just fearless, aren't you?" murmured Seo Joong. "It almost seems like you've taught your heart to know when it's contradicting itself." Juho looked down slightly. He was right. In order to write something better, he held off on worrying and the feelings associated with it. Once he published his work, the time eventually came when he was forced to face the things he had been holding back. He wanted to run away just a little further. It was his impulsivity. He gave the lump of dust in the corner of his mind a shape. Suddenly, he thought of the crow and its feathers that were as dark as ink. "Should I unlearn it?" "That would be entirely up to you. I can't reach that deep with my imagination," Seo Joong said as he took a sip from his cup filled with frothy Coke. "What's it like when your worries try to talk to you? Is it fun or painful?" asked Mideum. Juho thought for a brief time. The crow was rather noisy. Juho hadn't even bothered to name it. He didn't want to see it around. Yet, part of him didn't want to unlearn what he had taught his heart. He was contradicting himself to that very moment. "I feel like I would lose if my heart were to unlearn it." "Haha! I didn't know you were the competitive type!" "I must be." There was no way to know what a favorable outcome would look like. However, Juho had come to realize that the crow was there to stay. If that was him contradicting himself, and being human made him susceptible to it, then… "Sometimes, I wonder if my heart just needs to be comforted in some way." Mideum laughed. "Everyone carries the same kind of burden." "Right," agreed Juho as he raised his cup. The cold, refreshing beverage flowed into his mouth. Though it gave his throat a fizzy sensation, the Coke was refreshing. From then on, they continued on with their meal and moved onto talking about subjects like current events and writing. As she cut herself a large piece of meat from her dish, Dae Soo asked Juho, "So, how did you get to know Mr. Lim?" "Mrs. Baek gave me his contact information. Of course, I took the opportunity with gratitude," Juho answered while eating. "You mean Mr. Lim contacted you first? You're so lucky. I haven't even had a chance to talk to him to this day." "That goes to prove how good your book was." Feeling somewhat uncomfortable about being the center of attention, Juho changed the subject subtly, "It's nothing compared to your work, Ms. Na. I'd love to write something so bold and unapologetic." "I've been getting some feedback telling me that I need to be more gentle and apologetic," answered Dae Soo, sipping her wine. Giggling, Seo Joong nodded in agreement. "You know, you'd get those feedbacks a lot less if you worked on controlling your books' intensity level." "Hmph! I can't just stop writing what I have in my head because other people have something to say about it. Nevertheless, I did think, in passing, on whether I needed to tone it down a little," she said as she raised her knife. "I like your work, Dae Soo," said Mideum. "Eh. I think it needs to be a little… tamed," said Seo Joong. "I can hear you guys!" "C'mon, Dae Soo. We're professionals when it comes to receiving criticism. You know what to listen for." Snickering, she pointed in Seo Joong's direction with her chin. "Then, you're next." "Eh, I don't have to go far. I've been getting plenty of harsh feedback from someone very, very near." "Ah, none other than the infamous Dong Gil Uhm himself." "That ice-cold buddy of mine gives me the sincerest of feedbacks, saying that my work is too mushy." "He's not wrong." "Rigid and cold isn't really my style." "Your recent work was somewhat rigid though." "That's different." Dae Soo looked at Mideum as she sat quietly, waiting for her turn anxiously. "Don't be scared." "That's not helpful. I don't want to hear anything bad about my work." "That's a luxury we don't get to live with in this world. Seriously, you need to be bolder!" said Dae Soo. Having watched quietly, Juho parted his lips to ask, "Speaking of which, when is the next book in the Dr. Dong series coming out?" "Agh!" Mideum groaned as if she had been stabbed in the heart. Juho was somewhat flustered by her unexpected response. "Did I go overboard?" "No, not at all. This girl's been struggling with coming up with a case for the next book." "OK, that's enough. We're here to eat, right? So why don't we just do that?" "Your readers are getting antsy, you know." "Ughhh…" Mideum groaned again, shoving her fingers between her hair. "There are plenty of cases I want to write about, but I don't see anything Dr. Dong would find interesting," she said. "What are you? Yun Woo? Don't you even try with your imagination," Dae Soo said mercilessly. Judging from their interactions thus far, they were close friends. Quite a few authors tended to be overly proud of their own work. "I've written five books of that series, and I still don't get what kind of person Dr. Dong is. It's especially so as of late. It's like my mind has emptied itself." "My, my," Dae Soo shook her head. She was familiar with the symptoms. It was bound to happen in any creative process and it came without warning. It was a natural occurrence. Without the help of magic, no author was capable of burning through the pages of their manuscript paper without stopping. "It's like catching a cold. It happens to you often. It'll get better once you take your mind off of it and rest for a little while." "I can't afford to! Even yesterday, I got a call from my editor," Mideum said anxiously. Juho looked at her. She was clearly in a rut. In most cases, all it took to turn the situation around was to find a small hole. It didn't matter how small. What mattered was that there was a way move forward. Unfortunately, she wasn't equipped with the proper tools to be able to poke a hole, which meant that she had to look for her solutions from the outside. However, it was human nature to search a place that had already been searched. It wasn't all that different from the time when Juho lost his flash drive. He had looked through the same desk more than he could count. 'What would it take to sound like Yun Woo?' Juho wondered. In order to help find the right tool for Mideum, he asked her, "Is Dr. Dong not showing interest in any of those cases?" "... No, it's nothing like that. I'm sorry. It was just an excuse." "What if you gave him a reason to be interested?" "A reason?" "Yes. Something that would make him think. For example, he's a neatfreak, so he never sets foot near a corpse, right?" "Yeah." "But he wasn't always like that. He has touched a dead body before, so he did something he would never do currently." Thinking back on her work, Mideum nodded in agreement. There had been a reason for Dr. Dong to be at the scene. "Of course. It was necessary for the story to progress. I did make it so that the clues that would arouse Dr. Dong's curiosity could be found near the body." "Which meant he would HAVE TO go near it." "Right…" Mideum had left Dr. Dong no choice. After all, she was the writer. She had dragged him in the direction she had wanted. Yet now, she was the one being dragged by him. She quietly immersed herself in her thoughts. "Would you say that you're against idea of breaking out of your own mold?" "Not at all. In fact, the issue is that I can't stay within the mold. Why haven't I been able to do that?" "In my personal experience, I've found my own greed to be the culprit." "Greed, huh…" Her latest book had not been well-received. Because she wanted positive feedback, she only thought about the ways she could receive them. "It seems like I've been far too distracted. It's not that I couldn't think of things to write. I was never thinking about it to start with. I was busy thinking about what others would think and say about me. I see. Now, it makes sense." Pushing her dishes aside, Mideum pulled a laptop out of her bag and placed it on the desk. "The perks of having a genius around, am I right? OK, now I get it. Man, it wasn't even that complicated! Wait, now I feel like I'm gonna forget. Ugh, what do I do? I feel like my thoughts are getting all tangled up again. Anyway, thanks a lot! I'll pay you back later," she said in a hurry. Her hands moved just as busily as her lips. What could she possibly write in a place like that? "The things you do during a meal…" Dae Soo gave her a judgmental look. "You looked all depressed when I was telling you the same thing." "You're not very graceful with your words, Dae Soo. If you said it like Yun Woo, I would've understood it immediately. I'm going to write this down on my journal so that I don't forget." "What are you? Dong Gil, now?" "Please, I have to focus. This is a matter of livelihood." Seeing her getting busy, Juho also took a small notepad out of his pocket. "If you'd excuse me." "You're fine. What's that?" Dae Soo asked, looking surprised. "Oh, it's nothing special." Just as he said that, Juho closed his notepad after writing no more than a few words. He was reminded of a someone looking at Mideum being tossed around by the opinions surrounding her. Just like Mideum, that person would smile like an imbecile at those who were hurling insults at her. "Is there something you're working on?" "Yes, but I'm not planning on publishing it as Yun Woo." "Then?" "Let's just say… myself?" "Yet another curve ball. You're one mysterious creature," said Dae Soo, throwing her arms into the air. She studied Juho's face intently. He was young, much too young to be an author. An author in their forties like herself was considered to be young in the literary world. "Yun Woo's works are flawless." "Pardon?" As if the age alone wasn't shocking enough of a factor, Yun Woo's work were incredible. In Mideum's own words, he was at an age when he would know nothing about alcohol. Once she met Yun Woo herself, she realized that it made sense that Hyun Do Lim had taken an interest in him. Yun Woo was simply too extraordinary to be labeled as average. Dae Soo wanted to see that young author around more often. "Let's stay in touch. Would you mind if I invited you to our outings?" "Outings?" Juho asked as he blinked awkwardly.

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110 Chapter 110 - Shared Table 4

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "That's how we got close, by going out together." At that moment, Juho realized that there had been no commonality between the three authors, and he became curious about the outing she had referred to. "We might call it an 'outing,' but it's nothing all that special." "We just get together and talk. That's really it." "Almost like a hang out." Seeing how they each chimed in, Seo Joong and Mideum had to be part of the outing group. Juho listened quietly. "It's a small gathering of authors, eating and talking. No more than three people in most cases." "That's quite a few." "We rarely have everyone come out. They each have their own lifestyles." It made sense. Some authors preferred to write in the evening while some woke up regularly at 6:00 p.m. "So, who's part of the group?" "Let's see… First of all, there's the three of us," said Dae Soo as she drew a circle with her finger around Seo Joong and Mideum. "Dong Gil. Oh, you said you knew Mrs. Baek, right? Quite a few of her pupils come out too, like Joon Soo, and Geun Woo, who's on the rise as of late," Dae Soo said with a satisfied smile. She seemed happy about the fact that Juho knew Joon Soo and Geun Woo. "That's perfect! You won't feel awkward then. We also have a hermit who lives in the mountains and a know-it-all snob, but neither of them would go around telling people about you. If anything, they'd be more than willing to keep it a secret." "I'm not too worried about that." Juho was already familiar with those people because they were authors of the same generation "So, how did you all end up getting together?" "It wasn't anything dramatic. We just got connected through each other. You know, someone who knows a guy who also knew a guy." It sounded rather charming. "Sometimes we inspire each other as we chat. We're generally in better moods afterward, so that's one of the reasons why we meet. We also get to talk about each other's works." "When do you guys usually meet?' "That's TBD," said Dae Soo. "Who makes the decision?" "Dae Soo is usually the one organizing everything. She's the eldest," Seo Joong said. It sounded quite interesting. The conversation so far had also been rather enjoyable in many aspects. They all spoke a similar language and were able to identify with one another in many ways. It started to make sense to Juho how come such free-spirited people like authors would go to such a gathering. "Sounds great. Please let me know next week." With that, Juho left his phone number with Dae Soo. --- Since then, Juho wrote like usual. He worked on his short story at school and on his novel at home. The process had been rather peaceful, yet consistent. Just as one didn't think about having to breathe, he also wrote every single day without recognizing that he was writing. Just like that, time passed, and the seasons changed. 'Grains of Sand' had gone through nearly twenty revisions. By the time Juho felt content with how the short story had turned out, he finished the novel. The time had come for him to submit his manuscript to a publishing company. Sitting in front of his computer, Juho logged into the website of a company that he had been keeping his eye on. The cover image of one of their major works came into view. 'Behind the Curtains,' it was the fifth book of the Dr. Dong series, and it was the very company that Mideum was working with, Dong Baek Publishing Company. In addition to translating a number of books from overseas, they specialized in literature and humanity-related books. Moving his cursor, Juho clicked on the link for the instructions on submitting a manuscript. Written in order, the instructions were not very long. Although it was his first time following the general procedure, he was able to do it without difficulty. All it took was for him to send the appropriate department an email and send a hard copy of his manuscript by mail. The manuscript had to be a duplicate copy, while the email had to include the author's address, phone number, and synopsis of the book. Without hesitation, Juho typed out an overall synopsis for his book. Though it wasn't anything challenging, his hand suddenly stopped. "Title and author." He had to think about the a title for his book and a name he wanted to publish the book under. 'OK. First, an alias.' The name "Yun Woo" was the result of taking his last name and putting it next to the protagonist of 'The Trace of a Bird.' The name of the protagonist in his new novel was 'One.' 'One Woo? No, that sounds odd. What else is there? Unchanging. Adventure. A story about God. Mythology. Immortality. Eternal life. Forever.' 'Won Yi Young.' Just like when he came up with the name 'Yun Woo,' it took him less than a minute to come up with another alias. (TL's Note: Last name comes before first name in Korea, which would make the name 'Young Won Yi.' Young Won sounds like the Korean word for "forever.") Next, the title. 'Title, title. How should I name it?' As Juho looked around the room, his eyes were met with the pages of the characters in the languages he had created. "God." There was no way to explain the world Juho had created without the existence of God. It was the objective of the protagonist and his companions, as well as the representation of the book's theme. "Language." Language was also a crucial element of the book. After all, it was Juho's gift for the new protagonist, 'One.' On the computer, he tried combining the two core elements of the book. At the center of the letters written side by side, there was the language spoken by God. "The Language of God." Because authors had the freedom to change the title whenever they wanted, he didn't have to spent too much time and energy contemplating it. Besides, it sounded rather charming as it was. Once he wrote the title of his book, the preparatory process came to an end. In order to avoid leaving anything out, Juho read through the instructions again. 'Would it work out?' Juho thought as he looked at the screen. There was no way to know how a publishing company would judge his work without the name 'Yun Woo.' While he was excited, he also felt anxious. Yet, he didn't lose courage. After looking at his work for a brief time, he decided to submit his manuscript to multiple publishing companies. After all, nothing was certain. Having submitted to eight different companies, Juho turned off his computer. * "Sir?" Jang Mi called for her boss as he read something intently while leaning against his desk. It was one of the countless submissions spread throughout his office. Jang Mi Hong was the editor-in-chief at Dong Baek Publishing Company. Overwhelmed with work, she too had been putting off reading the manuscript submissions. She carefully studied the serious expression of her boss' face. "Um… Sir?" "Huh?" the man answered. He was the founding president of the company. Like many who found him difficult to read, the editor-in-chief often found herself confused about him despite interacting with him on regular basis. Even at that moment, she was clueless about what to make of the expression of her boss' face. "Did you have anything to say?" asked Jang Mi. "Why do you ask?" The president asked half-heartedly, his eyes still fixed on the manuscript in his hand. "You've been reading something without even moving a muscle, so I was just curious." As she sighed internally, her nose piercing dangled back and forth. With her boss' permission, she had made the bold decision to get her nose pierced. Though she was often made fun of for looking like a cow, her pierced nose was her pride. "Have you read this yet, Jang Mi?" asked the president. Of course, Jang Mi shook her head and added an explanation, "I was planning on getting to it sometime tomorrow." "This is great!" said the president as if he hadn't even heard her response. At his abrupt answers, she fixed her eyes on the pages of manuscript in his hand. "Is it any good?" "Yeah. The writer left the introduction empty, which means he's a rookie, right?" "Probably." "It's odd. No matter how I look at it, I don't think this is his first time writing." 'I wonder what's making him say all those things?' With her curiosity getting the best of her, she moved forward to get a glimpse of the manuscript. "Won Yi Young?" "Don't think I've ever heard of it. Have you?" he asked. "Not at all. He has a unique name." "He has a unique style too." "Really?' "Yeah." "In what sense?" He flipped to the first page and handed the manuscript to Jang Mi. "Right off the bat, the first character to appear is an imbecile." "An imbecile?" she asked wearing a puzzled look. "A so-called neighborhood fool. She doesn't even know when people are talking trash about her. Right off the bat. Before the book even introduces its world. It's different, but it's not bad." "It's not? That's so random! Ask anybody, and they'll tell you the same thing!" "It has a very defined plot development. That must be what's making it less jarring. You can really see the writer's ability." "Are you sure you're not digging too deep into your thoughts?" "Read it yourself." Jang Mi read through the overall story, a party of four who goes on a journey in search of God. It was rather simple. 'What's he so intrigued about?' The fact that they were analyzing a manuscript showed how immersive it was. Seeing how much interest her boss was showing, Jang Mi started to have a good feeling. "Read it within the next couple of days and get a hold of the author. He might have submitted it to other companies, so make it quick." "Yes, sir," she said determinedly. She started reading through the manuscript as soon as lunch time began. While eating with one hand, she held the manuscript on the other, reading. Eventually, she held the pages with both of her hands. "Jang Mi?" Mr. So of the Planning Department had called for her the same way she had called for her boss. "Huh?" "Lunch is over. Aren't you coming?" Although lunch hour had been over, she had barely eaten half of her food. She had yet to read the whole manuscript, but she had a good feeling about it. "Mr. So." "Yeah?" he answered, wearing a puzzled look. His eyes were fixed on her nose. A round piercing hung from it like the nose ring of a cow. He had witnessed her hiding it in her nose in several official occasions. "I think we have a big one." Mr. So immediately understood her. She was referring to a manuscript that had potential. "What is it?" "It's called 'The Language of God.' There's nothing that falls short. What's really jaw-dropping though is the style. I've never heard of the author, but I'm starting to doubt he's a rookie." "That good, huh?" "Especially this intro. I'm just in love with it." "Mind if I take a look at it?" "I'll hand it to you once I finish reading it at home tonight. I think I need to act quick. We can't afford to lose this author to another company." Though she started growing antsy, she couldn't contact the author without having read through the entire manuscript. With his eyes sparkling with curiosity, Mr. So stared at the manuscript in her hands. "I better get going. Enjoy the rest of your lunch." "OK, I'll catch up with you shortly." While forcefully shoving food down her mouth, Jang Mi didn't take her eyes off of the pages. There was still a pile of things she that needed to do: proofreading, organizing a reprint of a recent import, a stack of paperwork for the Planning Department, and coming up with a commercial slogan. "Wonder what he's like?" While curious, her mind was occupied by the thought of getting to the author before anyone else. * "Ugh, My ear!" Rubbing his ear annoyedly, Juho fixed his eyes on the pages in front of him. He was reading through the manuscript of 'The Language of God.' In the beginning, there was a character who Juho was inspired to create after meeting Dae Soo and Mideum. Despite being an adult, he was often mocked and ridiculed by children. Though referred to as 'Bird,' only the protagonist called him by that name. He was the only friend he had had as a student. As someone who was suffering a bad case of misanthropy, 'Bird' was the perfect person to talk to. After finishing his education and getting a job, One ended up taking care of his friend. 'Bird' allowed the protagonist, One, to be able to look at mythology from a different angle. Also, he played a crucial role in One setting a major goal. Having decoded the mythology with Bird's help, One decided to leave his friend behind and go on a journey in search of God with three schoolmates who didn't even know each other's names beforehand. The beginning of their journey was rather insignificant, perhaps impulsive even. Each individual had their own agenda for meeting God. With such seemingly insignificant reasons, they embarked on a grand journey that involved crossing the mountains and the sea.

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111 Chapter 111 - Rose’s Contract 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Done! Finally!" Seo Kwang shouted. While all eyes were on him, Juho, too, looked at him with the same eyes he had been using to read his work. He was celebrating with his hands up in the air. "I'm telling you, he's slow." "The more thorough you are with revisions, the better." "You don't think others finished before you because they weren't as thorough as you, do you?" "You're the one to talk. You just finished yours yesterday." "Guys, calm down." The quarreling between Sun Hwa and Seo Kwang echoed throughout the room. Though they bickered, there was excitement in their voices. With that, each of the club members had finished a story of their own. "Now, it's time to make a decision," said Mr. Moon as he rose from his seat. He was referring to the matter of whether the writers wanted to have their work on display in the school library or not. It was a decision that belonged solely to the writers themselves. "Those who would like to have their work on display, come talk to me in the staffroom with your story. I'll print it out, and then it'll go straight to the library." "Sigh," the club members let out a heavy one. "How much time do we get to decide?" "The sooner the better. Let's say… next week?" "Egh!? Next week??" "It's the weekend, so it works out perfectly. You can think it over at home. I'll still accept it even if it's late." Just like that, the club members had to spend their weekend wrestling with a decision. After spending some time thinking, Juho decided to have his work on display at school, publishing it under his real name, "Juho Woo." Though it might be a humble and seemingly insignificant in comparison to his professional debut, it was perfect for the seventeen year old Juho Woo. If he hadn't published 'The Trace of a Bird,' he would have ended up publishing one single book as a Literature Club member. Thinking back on his past, he had leaped to fame all without having taken such steps toward becoming a writer. It made sense that his career had eventually fallen apart. He relaxed while lying comfortably on his bed. "Ah! This is nice…" The weekend was a delightful occasion. For the first time in a while, Juho was able to spend some time resting. While staring at the ceiling blankly, he felt a sudden urge to read a book. He sat up and walked toward the bookshelf. After scanning through the books, his eyes eventually landed a book written by Franz Kafka. Juho was a fan of his work. Though his books never saw the light of day, they eventually became known to the world by the hands of his friend, Max Brod. Max himself might have been responsible for not following the request of his dying friend, who asked him to burn all of his works, but the world benefited greatly from those same magnificent works. 'If Kafka himself were to see what happened, how would he feel?' Juho became curious. Kafka had been a writer who had written in solitude throughout his entire life. 'As an author who pursued an artistic ego, would he be delighted in the fact that his work was finally receiving its due recognition, or would he blame his friend for not following through with his will?' With those thoughts in mind, Juho opened the book. It was an original copy, written in German. After some time, the vibrations from his phone broke the silence, taking his peaceful weekend with it. Feeling slightly annoyed, Juho reached for his phone on the desk. It was a number that he didn't recognize. Usually, he wouldn't have hesitated to reject the call. However, a potential possibility crossed his mind at that moment, so he carefully answered the call. "Hello?" "Is this Won Yi Young?" "Yes, this is he." "This is Jang Mi Hong from Dong Baek Publishing Company. I saw that you submitted a manuscript some time ago?" "Yes, ma'am." "I wanted to let you know that we're interested in publishing your work." (TL's Note: "Jang Mi" means rose in Korean.) A smile spread across Juho's face. 'First phase, pass.' His work had successfully moved the hearts of its readers even without the name "Yun Woo." At least the hearts of those who were in the publishing industry anyway. "Would you have some time to visit us and discuss this in person?" Jang Mi asked. "Absolutely." Having exchanged a few more words, Juho stood in a daze, feeling the heat being emitted from his phone. At that moment, the phone began to ring again. It was another number he didn't recognize. He answered without hesitation. "Hello?" "Hello, is this Won Yi Young?" "Yes, this is he." "Hi, how are you Mr. Young? I'm calling on behalf of Village Publishing Company. I wanted to discuss your submission with you?" From then on, Juho received a total of three phone calls, two emails, and two letters, all offering to publish his work. With the exception of one, all other companies he submitted to showed positive responses by showing interest in publishing it. "Haha!" Juho felt the same rush he felt when he made his very first submission. The news of his work being made into a book had always overwhelmed him with joy. It had been a while since he felt that satisfaction. Won Yi Young seemed like he would have a bright future ahead of him. He took a deep, quiet breath. 'Now, who do I choose?' It was a rather pleasant concern. * Things were much busier than usual at the Dong Baek Publishing Company. "Mr. Young's coming in soon, right? Make sure to leave the conference room empty." "Everything's ready, including the contract." "Good, good." The president had organized the meeting personally for the occasion. Won Yi Young was on his way to the company. He checked the time. Thirty minutes until the meeting. "I don't know why I'm so nervous." "You too? Same here," Jang Mi agreed with him. Though it was not the first time either of them would meet an author, there was an odd tension in the air. With a quick, swift movement, she pushed her piercing into her nose. It would no longer be visible from then on. "You don't think it's going to be someone we've met, do you?" "Maybe. Who are you thinking?" She thought about the list of young authors he'd met so far. "He seemed to have a similar style to Mr. Ahn." "No, it's way too colorful," said the president, shaking his head. "Ms. Choo's probably busy working on 'Behind the Curtains.' Ah, do you happen to know Joon Soo Bong? He's not very well-known, but I'm a huge fan." "Of course, but he has such a distinct style. We would've caught it right off the bat." "That's true. Mr. Uhm would be a silly guess, right?" "Yep. There's no way." Wearing a puzzled look, Jang Mi tilted her head. 'Is he even an author? No, he has to be.' Won Yi Young was more than competent in terms of his skill as a writer. "With a skill like that, it might be someone with more experience." "He sounded young." "I have a young voice too." "Ahaha… of course…" While they joked around light-heartedly, an employee said, "Sir? Ms. Hong? Mr. Young's here." "OK." With her heart pounding for a reason unknown, Jang Mi went out to greet the author. An individual who appeared to be an author stood in front of the entrance. 'He looks young,' thought Jang Mi. His appearance was just as young as his voice. He couldn't have been older than a high school student. When their eyes met, the mature expression of an adult spread across his face. It was a peaceful smile. Jang Mi felt a slight hesitation in her mind. 'Is he really young?' He exuded a strange aura. At that moment, a thought suddenly crossed her mind. 'Could it be him?' She might have been nervous because of a subconscious premonition. "Hello," the author greeted her. Jang Mi greeted back in a hurry. "Yes, hello. Mr. Young, right?" "Yes, ma'am." After exchanging light greetings, Jang Mi brought him to the conference room. The young author calmly walked into the building. Though it didn't appear to be his first time visiting a publishing company to sign a contract, there was no trace of anxiety or excitement. He was calm and mature. "Sir, Mr. Young's here." "Please, come on in," said the president, welcoming the author. In contrast to his light-hearted tone from earlier that day, a low, serious voice leaked out of the conference room. Without hesitation, Jang Mi opened the door and stepped aside to let the author in. * "Hello, Dong Baek Lee." Juho exchanged greetings with the president of the company in the conference room. Being middle-aged, he gave off a rather threatening impression. His appearance was far from a welcoming one. Yet, his honest smile had a charm of its own. "Mr. Won, I'm assuming?' "Yes, sir." "I enjoyed your work quite a bit. Thank you so much for submitting it to our company," said Dong Baek as he bowed. Juho too returned a bow. "Thank you for contacting me," Juho said while facing Jang Mi and Dong Baek. As they sat with a rectangular desk in between them, the room felt similar to the science lab at school. A cup of green tea was brought out for Juho. Before getting to the main point, Dong Baek started a conversation by bringing up Juho's work, "Your work left me with a deep impression, Mr. Young." "Thank you." "I was especially impressed by the language chart that you included in your submission. Did you come up with that?" "Yes, I did." "If the readers are to learn that chart, would they be able to understand the language in your book?" Juho nodded quietly. "It is a language after all. It'd be more than possible." "May I ask how it came about?" After spending a brief time thinking, Juho answered, "So… I based the letters on the western alphabet, Chinese, and Hangul. I also looked into Old and Medieval English quite a bit. I've made several different languages, and I'm planning on dividing them into two categories: one that is to fade into history, and one that survives the test of time." "When you say you're planning on dividing, what are you referring to?" "Like the Manchurians. The Jurchen language was simply too difficult, and it eventually disappeared from the face of the Earth. People there had to come up with a new language, and it took shape after its borrowed counterpart, Mongolian. The Manchurians declared the use of their own language, but it never grew out of its perilous state. I'm planning on making the characters in my book study such a language." "I see." Dong Baek seemed somewhat unsatisfied with his answer, so Juho decided on a more direct approach. "Making an arrow, for example." "An arrow." "Weapons are for hunting. In order to serve that purpose, it needs to be sharp. I do look for materials in my surroundings that would suit that image, things like glass, iron, or pieces of ice. Once you experiment mixing in different ratios, you eventually learn which ingredient goes with which. I've paid particular attention to the language system and its vocabulary, because I wanted to create as many languages that were unique to that world as possible. Not only is it more fun, but it's also more effective when it comes to showing the ecosystem of that world." "... I see. If I may, what's your age?" "Seventeen." Both Jang Mi and Dong Baek's eyes sparkled with curiously. 'A genius. A genius has appeared!' They felt like they had finally come to encounter a race that they'd only heard about. Seventeen. Genius. When combining the two words, there was one particular person who came to mind. A rookie who flipped the publishing industry upside down. An author who had been on a streak of success from his debut to his sophomore title. With an anxious heart, Dong Baek asked, "So, I saw that you've kept your introduction rather brief." "Would that cause an issue?" "At this point, not at all." His skill simply stood out, so it made his lack of self-introduction noticeable. In other words, it was a gem. A gem that sparkled above all the surrounding rocks. Those who had been blinded by it were bound by the desire to get their hands on it. Dong Baek fully intended on entering into a partnership with the young author. Having met the writer himself, that determination had grown even larger. Therefore, Dong Baek decided to ask Juho directly, "Have you written under the name "Yun Woo" in the past, by any chance?" With his heart pounding from what felt like excitement or anxiety, he stared at the young author in front of him intently. Juho took a brief pause and smiled. "Would that cause an issue?" Jang Mi gasped. Dong Baek subconsciously reached for the green tea on the desk in order to quench the sudden thirst and said, "At this point, not at all."

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112 Chapter 112 - Rose’s Contract 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Every character had a distinct personality. I like the story of the four individuals who each have something they're after." Jang Mi changed the subject. "The protagonist's personality really stood out to me. Especially the drastic change that occurs from his youth to his adulthood. His misanthropic behaviors were also quite interesting," Dong Baek added. "That's why the protagonist is so obsessed with God," Juho said. One was searching for God because of his hate toward humans. Some might see him as arrogant, while others might see him as admirable. That was the kind of character One was. "The language that you made really accentuates each of the character's personality." "I was hoping that would be the result." "And you've done it quite well, Mr. Young." Depending on the region, the language evolved differently. Vast and diverse. Some were even difficult. The only reason why the readers were able to understand the language in the book was because the protagonist served the role of the translator. Due to that, Juho was able to portray the distinct characteristics of each village to their full potential. It became an element of fun in its own rights, and it was also one of the strengths of the novel. "I liked that the four schoolmates who were never close as students came together as adults to go on a spontaneous journey. I'm looking forward to how things will unfold when a group of people who aren't all that fond of each other are on a journey together." "I agree." No one knew how the journey would turn out, and Juho shared the same excitement as Dong Baek and Jang Mi. "It's also unique that the characters are names One, Two, Three, and Four." "Ah, about that." Juho had named the four companions after numbers. Of course, it held a different meaning than what merely appeared to be a chronological order. "Was there a reason for that?" Asked Jang Mi. "Nothing special. We understand them as numbers, but in the world within the story, they can have an interpretation that's entirely different. I saw it as an opportunity to exert creativity." "Their personalities are completely different, unlike their names, which lines up neatly next to one another." "Yes, and they are each looking for something." "Yet, they all share in the goal of meeting God. It's so interesting!" "I really liked the character "Bird,"" added Dong Baek. Bird. He had just started to realize the significance behind the name. A bird was the first thing people associated with the name "Yun Woo." "I'm guessing he's going to play a crucial role in the story?" "Yes, he's one of the core characters." Having read the synopsis, Dong Baek and Jang Mi had an idea of the character's identity. The three shared a smile. "He's God himself," said Juho. Or maybe he isn't. "We're really looking forward to how the story will unfold, Mr. Young," said Dong Baek as he took out the contract that Jang Mi had prepared beforehand. Now, he was getting to the main point of the meeting. "If you're Yun Woo, Mr. Young, I think we may need to make some adjustments in the contract." Now that the name Yun Woo had been mentioned, things like royalties and advances were bound to change. Dong Baek quickly calculated in his head. Given that the company published under the name "Yun Woo," Juho would be able to receive anywhere from 12 to 15 percent since it would significantly reduce the cost of advertising. "That won't be necessary," Juho said. Dong Baek looked at him as he stopped calculating. "What do you mean?" "It's exactly as I said. I have no intention of publishing this book under the name "Yun Woo."" Juho was openly saying that he wouldn't mind being treated like a rookie. Dong Baek thought for a brief time. Not being able to publish the book under the name "Yun Woo" would mean a loss in many ways. The name had already become something of a brand. Yet, the author himself didn't want his book published under that name. Instead, he wished to publish under a different name. "Hm…" Though it was unfortunate for Dong Baek and the company, he remembered the intention of the meeting. It was specifically to sign a contract with Won Yi. Dong Baek had contacted Won Yi solely based on his writing. 'This book will do well even without the name "Yun Woo."' He composed himself and went forth with the meeting. "Sounds good. Why don't we look at the contract together and discuss it in more detail?" "Sure." With that, he brought out two copies of the contract and placed one of them before Juho. Marking the important places, he gave Juho time to read through it. Juho studied the contract and didn't notice anything that stood out from the previous ones. As he slowly put down the pages, Dong Baek started explaining. "So, if you look here, it gives you the definition of the words used to refer to the two parties and so on." Juho listened to him intently. They specified things and discussed when needed, and the steps had been exactly the same from the previous times Juho had signed contracts. "And about your royalties…" "M-hm." It was the process for determining how much an author got to take as his share. It was the most sensitive and crucial part of a contract because the numbers would vary depending on the author. More fame and skill meant a higher pay. Dong Baek took the initiative to speak, "You, Mr. Young, would be a rookie publishing his very first book." "Yes." He began to calculate it in his head. Typically, a rookie would be paid royalties within 5 percent of the book's set price. Because Yun Woo himself had agreed to be treated as a rookie, there was no reason to complicate things. However, Dong Baek remembered how delicate of a world and characters this young author had created. "How's 8 percent sound?" "That's a lot higher than I thought." Eight percent was the amount typically paid to authors who were more established. Examining the surprised look on Juho's face, Dong Baek made a subtle suggestion. "If we publish under Yun Woo, we can bring that up to 15 percent." "I'm happy with 8 percent. I am a rookie after all." "Haha! Great, Mr. Young!" Seeing as how Juho was drawing a line, Dong Baek pushed no further. He just accepted Juho's opinion with a smile. From then on, they discussed the contract for publishing the e-book. As Juho studied the contract again, Dong Baek quietly studied his expression, the face of the elusive author, Yun Woo. There had been many assertions among the staff within the company. Some believed that he had an adult ghostwriter and some believed that he had a hideous scar on his face. Some believed that he would reveal his face when he became an adult, while some argued that he'd always remain anonymous. Nobody had an answer since there was no way to ask the person himself. Yet, there he was, in front of his eyes. Neither did he lie about his age or have a scar on his face. He was simply an author who wasn't swayed by money and understood his work better than anyone. Though the author himself had turned it down, Dong Baek's offer to pay him a 15 percent in royalty had not been an empty promise. Yun Woo was a colossal figure in the industry. Dong Baek felt confident. 'I have a good feeling about this,' he thought. Although the possibility of publishing under the name "Yun Woo" was no longer there, the fact he was dealing with a book written by the same author remained unchanged. "Is there anything that you would like to discuss further, Mr. Young?" "No," Juho said as he looked up slowly. Dong Baek wore a big smile on his face. "Now that I've met you in person, I'm coming to realize that your age has nothing to do with your passion and professionalism, Mr. Young. I'm sure you have more than what it takes to handle a book of such a large scale in many aspects. I'm certain that this book will be the talk of the town. Genre novels can easily get lost and forgotten, but those novels also have a tendency to sell uncontrollably once they start selling," said Dong Baek. Seeing how Juho's expression remained unaffected, he added confidently, "I can see it. I know this book will sell. Not only is it a great book, but it also has an incredible literary value. It would be wrong for it to not sell. Of course, not everything is reasonable in this world, but I believe a publishing company plays an important role when it comes to bringing back reason into the world." Juho looked at Dong Baek's confident expression. He was taking pride in Juho's work at a personal level. Juho felt grateful and fascinated at the same time. 'I wonder what's giving him such confidence?' he wondered. Maybe it was because Dong Baek knew nothing about Juho's past failures. To his eyes, Juho was probably no more than a genius author who was both young and lucky, writing his success story early on. If it wasn't for the memories of his painful past, would Juho have been able to celebrate or feel confident as freely as Dong Baek? He suddenly felt like wanting to return to the time before he experienced success as an author. If he had lived in a time before he knew how fragile and yet potent success could be, Juho might've been able to celebrate. "So, when can I sign?" Unfortunately, it was impossible. For that reason, he had resolved not to be afraid of anything preemptively. He might not be able to go back, but he was still able to change. "Hahaha!" Dong Baek let out heartily while Jang Mi looked excited and anxious at the same time. Everything about the book was large. "Pleasure to be working with you, Mr. Young." "Likewise." Juho willingly shook Dong Baek's hand. * "Won Yi?" Juho nodded. In contrast to the shock on Geun Woo's face, Yun Seo laughed cheerfully. "That's a fun challenge." "I heard back from seven places! I was kind of impressed myself." At that, Geun Woo shook his head with squinted eyes. "Why are you doing that to yourself when you have a perfectly good name like "Yun Woo?" Is this what the "eccentricity of a genius" looks like? You might as well move into the mountains or something. It'll make it easier. Don't just sit there." "Eccentricity? No, this is a challenge. A challenge of youth." Geun Woo looked all the more confused, and Joon Soo interjected, "Geun Woo, we should be complimenting him first." He had a mature personality. Juho took the fork Joon Soo had given him and picked up one of the apple slices filling the plate in front of him. "So, are you feeling confident?" "Confident?" "As in, are you confident that you'll survive through the days as a struggling writer?" "No, not at all." Juho was not confident that he would be able to withstand the past darkness again. "So, that's why I'm planning on starting strong. That, I'm confident about," Juho said as he remembered Dong Baek's attitude. The confidence the president of a publishing company had displayed gave Juho a slight sense of relief. "That's a great posture to have," Yun Seo complimented him. Geun Woo stared at Juho quietly. In that moment, he was a young author who was eating his apple slice. He was impossible to read. He seemed like a person who would laugh all the more peacefully even if a bomb fell from the sky. 'If I were Yun Woo, I'd take advantage of my name as much as possible when I wrote. Since I'd be the one who had brought myself to the top, I'd have nothing to complain about. I'd never turn an opportunity away,' Geun Woo thought. 'How is he able to leave behind a name like "Yun Woo" so easily? Is it because he's never experienced failure in his life? No. There's something much bigger and more powerful than a bomb falling from the sky. The role of trembling in fear belongs to those around him.' "Well, should you find yourself not doing so well on the off chance, you know where to find us," Geun Woo said as an attempt to empty his mind. "That's harsh," said Juho in response to Geun Woo's joke. "You won't starve as long as I'm around," said Yun Seo. "Aw! You too, Mrs. Baek?" The four chatted cheerfully over a pile of apple slices.

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113 Chapter 113 - Give and Take 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Oh! I forgot about getting my photos developed today!" Yun Seo said with a clap. "What photos?" Juho asked. The answer came from Joon Soo instead, "We took some pictures with Mrs. Baek recently using her old film camera." "A film camera?" "That's right. I've been using it for years now," Yun Seo affirmed proudly. "I've been taking pictures with my pupils ever since I first started taking them in. I made an album too. Would you like to see it?" Juho nodded. Knowing its location, Geun Woo rose from his seat and returned with a hefty looking album. The four sat around it. "We're probably in here somewhere too. Now, where were we…" The photos were well-maintained. As Joon Soo flipped the pages, faces unknown to Juho rushed passed his eyes one by one. Everyone in the pictures had been an aspiring author and loved writing, and they had come to learn under Yun Seo. "That's me right there," Geun Woo said, pointing to a young man with long hair. He gave off a much sharper image than the one in the present. "Wow! When was this?" "It couldn't have been that long after I came here, so… I must've been in my twenties." "You look tacky as heck!" Joon Soo said playfully, acting unlike usual. Unfortunately, Joon Soo was right. "You're one to talk. You're not exactly stylish either, Mr. Bong," Geun Woo said, pointing at another photo. It was Joon Soo's. Though his appearance didn't look different, he was wearing a blue denim jacket and pants. "That was the hottest fashion trend then," said Joon Soo. "I think you guys are both on the same level, more or less." "What'd you say!?" Geun Woo exclaimed. Ignoring him, Juho turned his eyes to the album. On the next page, there was a picture of Geun Woo and Joon Soo standing together in the front of Yun Seo's timeless house. "This is actually pretty fun!" "Oh! Do you remember this, Joon Soo?" "Ah! It's when we first seeded the garden." Listening to the two people conversing, Juho was able to picture what the house had looked like in the past. While Joon Soo took out one of the photos and kept on with the conversation, Juho looked through at the pages of the album slowly. Time had passed and the seasons had changed. The album held the past of those who were in the pictures, and getting a peek at that was a rather fun experience. "Huh?" By reflex, Juho let out. There was a familiar face that he would never have imagined to find. He took a closer look. 'It is him!' No matter how many times he looked, it was the person Juho knew. "What is it?" Geun Woo asked. "I just saw someone I wasn't expecting to see in the album," Juho said with his eyes still on the picture. "Eh? Who? Is there someone you know?" At that moment, the doorbell rang. Stopping Joon Soo from getting up, Yun Seo walked toward the door herself. Juho couldn't afford the time to look away from the picture because he would have never imagined to see that person in the picture. On the other hand, after seeing that familiar face in that album, Juho began to make sense of the man's puzzling attitude. "So, who is it?" "Here, this person," Juho pointed to a man in one of the pictures. At one point, the man had dreamed of being a genius writer, and he was the one who first mentioned the idea of being a "great storyteller." Everything began to make sense. "Oh my goodness! It's been so long!" Yun Seo exclaimed cheerfully. Only then did Juho look away from the album and turned toward the door. "Who's here?" "Probably another guest. We always have guests," Geun Woo said to Joon Soo. Juho nodded in agreement. Yun Seo's house was always filled with guests. "Come in, come in!" A series of footsteps followed Yun Seo's voice, and the three looked in the direction of the sound. Then… "Oh! It's that man in the picture!" Geun Woo said as the guest simultaneously locked eyes with Juho. "Juho Woo?!" the man said, looking confused. Holding bags of gifts in his hands, Juho was well-acquainted with him. The man seemed slightly older than himself in the picture. "Why are you here?!" he asked. As Juho rose from his seat, Geun Woo and Joon Soo's eyes followed. Instead of an answer, Juho addressed the man by his name. "Hello, Mr. Moon." Silence. "Mr. Moon?" "Who's the teacher here?" The room became filled with confusion. "You two know each other?" Joon Soo asked. He seemed to know Mr. Moon. "He's my student," said Mr. Moon. "... What??" Joon Soo asked, dumbfounded. Juho nodded quietly. "He's a teacher," said Juho. "Wait, what's going on? Who's a teacher?" Then, he asked Juho in a whisper, "Yun Woo's or Juho's?" "What's your teacher doing in Mrs. Baek's house?" Rather than answering Geun Woo's question, Juho looked at the album on the floor. "That's because I was her pupil once." Mr. Moon had been one of Yun Seo's pupils. Now, he was a teacher himself, teaching students of his own. There were similarities in the way they taught. For example, they never directly told their students that they were wrong. "Haha! This is interesting. I'll bring out some tea, and you guys talk and catch up." Meanwhile, Yun Seo headed for the kitchen with the gifts Mr. Moon had brought. Everyone exchanged awkward looks, and Joon Soo spoke up first to break the ice. "He came here around the same time as me. He was the best writer here, then." "Really??" Geun Woo said, impressed. It was hard to believe that there was a better writer than Joon Soo. "He left before you came in." "I teach at a school now. I'm also this kid's homeroom teacher," said Mr. Moon, pointing at Juho. It was a rather confusing occasion where a teacher came together with his teacher and her students. "So, remind me why you're here?" he asked again. Knowing that they wouldn't be able to explain, Joon Soo and Geun Woo remained quiet. Mr. Moon waited for an answer patiently. "So…" Juho realized that the moment he knew would come had finally caught up to him without warning. The time had come. He couldn't help but chuckle from how sudden and unexpected the situation was. On the other hand, he also found it to be funny. For those reasons, he decided not to avoid facing the reality of it. "I wrote a book." "A book?" "Yes. I naturally came to know different people as I wrote." Mr. Moon gave him a delayed response, "So, you were learning from Mrs. Baek? That's why you said you weren't formally trained or going to a private institute! Right, it makes sense now." "Not exactly." "No?" "M-hm." Mr. Moon's eyes narrowed. "Then, what is it?" Juho slowly parted his lips in order to bring up a name he was well-acquainted with, yet unfamiliar with at the same time. In a rather low voice, he answered, "I'm Yun Woo." Silence filled the room yet again. Nobody moved a muscle while Mr. Moon stood in the middle of it. He showed no response, like a statue. "Did you all have a good time?" Yun Seo asked as she walked into the room from behind them. "What's the matter? Why do you look shocked?" she asked, studying Mr. Moon's expressions. He seemed to freeze up when taken aback by something. Observing the awkward situation quietly, Yun Seo spoke up to shatter the silence, "Why don't we all sit down and have ourselves a cup of tea?" Then, the tension began to dissipate. Juho picked up his cup of tea and took a sip. A pleasant warmth traveled down his stomach. After that, he quietly set his tea back down on the table. Mr. Moon's face became visible over the lonely cup. "So, you?" "Yes." "You're Yun Woo?" "Yes." "C'mon." "I'm serious." "You're killing me." Mr. Moon was aware that Juho wouldn't lie in such a situation. However, it was hard not to question the fact that Juho was Yun Woo considering how he had been doing in the Literature Club so far. Juho had been rather meticulous in concealing his identity. Yun Seo and her two pupils were observing quietly. While rubbing his face, Mr. Moon let out a sigh and said, "OK, it did cross my mind at one point." "I'm sure." "After all, you're a good writer yourself. It's to the point where it's hard to believe that you're still a student. Think about it. Who comes to mind when you combine a high school student with the skill of a seasoned, veteran writer? Yun Woo." "Thank you." "... You never denied it once. Yeah, that's right. You never did. Then, how was I so firm in believing that you were not Yun Woo?" said Mr. Moon, flicking his tea cup. "It was because of your writing," he added, letting out yet another sigh. "It never occured to me that you were Yun Woo because I read your writing." He seemed to be quite confused, and Juho understood his position. Juho had been writing in a style that Yun Woo would never think of adopting. He had been writing as his own style instead of Yun Woo's, resulting in a completely different feel and structure. "How should I understand this situation?" "It's simple," Juho said as he moved aside the cup. "I'm both Juho Woo and Yun Woo." "Meaning?" "I can write as Juho and Yun Woo." Mr. Moon burst into laughter. It wasn't clear whether he was in awe or disbelief. At that moment, Joon Soo stopped Geun Woo as he prepared to speak. However, Joon Soo was curious himself as to why Mr. Moon couldn't believe that Juho was Yun Woo. Considering the fact that he had been looking at his writing longer than anybody else, he should have been the first one to catch on. "Why are you having such a hard time believing it? From what I've gathered so far, it seems like it wouldn't be strange if you were the first person to notice," Yun Seo spoke up. A relieved look spread across Geun Woo and Joon Soo's faces. She had scratched the itch. Then, Geun Woo took the opportunity speak up, "That's what I'm thinking. Am I the only person who's having trouble understanding the point of this conversation?" "Speaking of which, have you been a victim of fraud of sorts, Song Hak? Why can't you believe the words of your own student?" Joon Soo added. "Fraud? That's a little harsh, isn't it?" Mr. Moon looked at Juho and let out yet another sigh. "Juho Woo," he called his name. Juho knew exactly what to expect. He always addressed him by his full name when he demanded an explanation. "I'm good at keeping secrets." "The fact that you're Yun Woo?" asked Geun Woo. "Yes," Juho answered. At his answer, Joon Soo's forehead scrunched up into a scowl. "Now that I think about it, it's odd. How were you able to stay hidden in a Literature Club? You have such a distinct style." "Is there a trick of sorts?" There wasn't anything complicated. Rather, it had been a rather simple challenge. "I know how to write in different styles." "What do you mean?" "Exactly what I said. I can write in a style apart from that of Yun Woo's." "... So what does that mean?" Confused, Joon Soo remained silent. Surrounded by people drowning in confusion, Mr. Moon added, "He's referring to a different style." "Huh?" "He writes something completely different. In fact, it's so different that I've been reading his writing all these times and never suspected him once." "... Eh??" Geun Woo's forehead also scrunched up into a scowl. "Like modifying his original style? Is that what you're talking about? Like taking out the conjunctions or using less verbs or something?" "No," Mr. Moon said firmly. All eyes were on Joon Soo. "You know my skills, Joon Soo. Do you really think I'd fall for tricks like that?" "Wow. Did he just say that with his own lips?" Geun Woo murmured. Joon Soo admitted quietly, "Of course, I know. That's why I'm so confused." "Then what is it? Are you saying that Juho writes in two different styles or what? That sounds like something out of a fairytale!" Geun Woo said light-heartedly. "You guessed it right," Mr. Moon answered heavily. "That's exactly what my student is saying."

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114 Chapter 114 - Give and Take 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Yun Woo. Juho. They had always been the same person. With the exception of Yun Seo, everyone fixated their eyes on Juho, each wearing a perplexed look. "Is that true?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Yes, ma'am." "Sounds like you have an interesting skill at your disposal." "Do you think so, Mrs. Baek?" "Of course! Does Hyun Do know about this?" "No." Suddenly, Geun Woo interrupted the seemingly peaceful conversation. "Hold on. Mrs. Baek, am I the only person who's still confused?" Geun Woo asked. In his mind, the ability to write in two distinct styles was no more than a romantic idea, nothing short of wishful thinking. People each had fingerprints that were unique to themselves. In the same way, they each had one consciousness, and that was the basis of a writer's style. An author's writing reflected their personality for that one reason. Yet, the young author in front of his eyes claimed to have yet another conscience. "We all dream about it as writers. Writing freely while being able to adopt a style fitting to the event or character. There actually was an author who strived to achieve that for years. Unfortunately, it's impossible. Everyone who tried has failed so far. They may have been able to change their style, but nobody has been able to break away from their consciousness. Yet, what you're saying is…" Juho sounded like someone who possessed something that countless authors had been longing for. Geun Woo felt warm. Maybe he was feeling uneasy. Afraid, even. He felt a drop of cold sweat on his back. If what the young author was saying was really true, then Yun Woo as an author would be… "Impressive, right?" "..." Geun Woo was dumbfounded. Juho was smiling, cracking light-hearted jokes. After his conversation with Yun Seo during his visit not too long ago, there had been a noticeable change in the way Juho treated his skills as an author. The boy who only knew how to disregard his own talent had learned to accept and embrace it, at least on the outside. "How can you be so calm about this?" Juho's seemingly nonchalant attitude came from admitting his own talent. What set him apart from being arrogant was the fact that he wasn't letting it define his identity… "This is upsetting." … even if it meant upsetting those around him. If Juho was capable of writing in another style distinct from that of Yun Woo's as if there was another person living within him, Geun Woo wanted to see what it would look like. "OK, fine. I get that you're Yun Woo," Mr. Moon said, having listened to everything quietly. "Seeing how Mrs. Baek and her two pupils are actually treating you as Yun Woo, I think I'm coming to accept it." "I see." "That means you have the ability to write in two styles that are completely distinct from one another. I'll believe it for now, but cautiously," Mr. Moon said as he emphasized the last word. Taking his cup of tea, he took a big swig as if it was no longer hot. "So, might I expect a demonstration in the near future?" he asked, wearing the distinct smile that Juho had seen often in the Literature Club. That smile usually indicated that he was about to make a sudden announcement. "Demonstrate what?" "A book written by Yun Woo, but in your other style." "Uh… I can't say." "What's with that response? Are you saying that you're going to hide behind such a talent? It's much too flashy as a shield, don't you think?" "That's not exactly my intention either." Mr. Moon seemed to have come to accept that Juho was Yun Woo. The fact that he wanted to see Yun Woo writing in a different style meant that he had come to accept that his student in front of him was Yun Woo himself. "Surely you can do that much, especially having tricked your homeroom teacher. Right, Mrs. Baek?" said Geun Woo. "Please consider it, Juho, even if it wasn't for your teacher." Juho thought for a brief time while scratching his head. Another style. If he were to publishing something like that, the entire country would be flipped upside down. There were bound to be controversies, and at worse, he might have to experience yet another failure. He might regret his decision for the rest of his life. However… "Heck. What should I write about?" … an author wouldn't be able to write a single word if he was afraid of failure. "I like the enthusiasm. Yeah, that's more like it. Man, dreams do come true! I wanted to meet Yun Woo in person at least once before I died," said Mr. Moon. "Oh, wait! You must have felt really weird about that imposter at school a while back." At that, a face flashed across Juho's mind. "Rather…" "That couldn't have been the first time. Must have been fun! Please, tell us more, Mr. Woo." "Not exactly fun, no." "Be honest with me. You liked it, didn't you?" "I did. I love my peaceful life." "Don't be so shy now, Mr. Woo." "You're starting to sound like you're picking on me." "I'm actually curious too. Tell me, what's the thing with the imposter about?" "Yeah! You never know what could inspire you." Juho's effort to resist was buried by the voice of the curious authors around him. "Come to think of it, your first piece was rather unusual." "My first piece?" "About the mackerel." "Oh, right." "Mackerel?" "It's a funny story." The noisy chatter between authors came to a sudden halt at the sound of Yun Seo's clap. Everyone turned their eyes in its direction. "We should take a picture!" "A picture?" Despite Juho's question, Yun Seo moved about busily. She had already brought her camera out from her room. The dark lens shone brightly. Making necessary adjustments to the camera, she turned toward the authors and said, "Let's all go outside!" Juho was puzzled. Similar things had happened in the past in the Literature Club. He wondered if Mr. Moon had gotten his unpredictable side from his teacher, Yun Seo. "OK! Coming, Mrs. Baek." "She loooves taking pictures." "We better go, Juho. She's virtually unstoppable once she has a camera in her hands." Without saying much, the three immediately rose from their seats. Juho quietly followed the figure that he had grown well-acquainted with. With a tripod set up, the five stood in front of the camera and lined up shoulder to shoulder, looking right into the lens. The shutter sounded off. "Agh! I think I blinked!" "Let's take another one!" "I don't think there's much film left." "No, there's plenty! Ready!" Joon Soo set up the camera and rushed back to join the rest. Seasons change, and time passes by like a river, ever flowing. By the time Juho would reminisce back to that moment, what would he be writing?" "Smile!" With that, everyone smiled brightly. Because he had no answer, Juho decided to smile. The shutter sounded once again. --- "That was delicious. It's been a while since I've had this much fun too," said Mr. Moon, patting his belly. Juho looked in his direction. The sun had already set. Having enjoyed his teacher's cooking again for the first time in years, Mr. Moon wore a satisfied smile. Though complaining about overeating, the smile on his face remained unchanged. Yun Seo's house had the power to charm her guests. They wanted to stay as long as possible. That was how comfortable the house was. "Do you know why I came here today?" Mr. Moon asked suddenly, and Juho shook his head. "Why?" "I'm here to get advice on how to teach you." "Me?" "Yep," Mr. Moon said as he turned in Juho's direction. "It seemed to me that you were going to end up being an author. Yes, you have the skills, but your posture and your attitude are just… natural. I've yet to see anyone like you, and of course, I've spent a significant amount of time thinking about the best way to teach you. As you know, I'm not exactly the best teacher. It'd been a while since I'd visited her too, so I came here to get some advice from Mrs. Baek. But, to my surprise, I ran into you." "Maybe this isn't a coincidence after all." "Coincidence? No. It's a result of having wrestled with myself. There is no such a thing as coincidence in this world. Or… I guess I'm looking at it in front of my eyes." (TL's Note: Yun Woo would be Woo Yun in Korea, which sounds like the Korean for "coincidence.") Juho shrugged lightly. "So, how are you planning on teaching me?" "I'm going to let you be," said Mr. Moon, smiling. "I don't think there's a better way to teach you than that." "How come? Why don't you teach me some basics? Like how to write a sentence." "You wrote a book for goodness sake." Juho looked up to the sky. The moon had come up, yet it wasn't entirely dark out. "It's nice here, isn't it?" "Yes." "I loved it here. That's why I held on to the best of my ability." Juho remembered their conversation from some time ago. "Was that when you wanted to be a genius?" "Yep. That was when I was doing a lot of "physical labor." Sitting here, it's really taking me back." "Do you regret it?" Juho wondered if Mr. Moon had ever regretted having stopped writing. With a chuckle, Mr. Moon said, "Not at all. I loved every bit of my life back then, but on the other hand, it was a living hell." "How come?" "Because I wrote. It felt like I kept going out of my way to awake the anger hidden deep within me. All that, just to write." "I know what that's like," said Juho in a calm voice. "Perks of having an author as a student." Crickets chirped in the distance. "It was frightening when I realized that I didn't have what it took to be a genius. It's scary to not know where to go. I quickly found myself surrounded by darkness." "I see." "That's when Mrs. Baek taught me the word "great."" Juho had received the word from someone who had received it from yet another person. "I'd come to realize that I was gravely mistaken. Something broke, and I felt at peace. Then, I stopped writing. I felt like I could be a genius, but being great? That felt like a whole 'nother level. I couldn't even dare," Mr. Moon said. "I hate school, and work is a hassle, but I'm content with my life." He was content with his position as homeroom teacher of the Literature Club. "If I were writing still, I'd have never taught Yun Woo, you know?" he said playfully. "I think you made a very wise decision, Mr. Moon," said Juho, playing along to his joke. "Aren't you shameless." After a brief pause, Mr. Moon parted his lips to speak, "You are different." Unlike his teacher who distanced himself from writing when introduced to the idea of being great, Juho desired for such a title. In order to take hold of it, he was writing more than ever. "Yes, and I will get what I want," Juho said calmly. 'He has what it takes. Everyone is moved by his writing, feeling hurt and loved at the same time. His readers will come to recognize him from deep within as 'The Great Storyteller,'" thought Mr. Moon. "Oh, so what are you going to?" "About what?" "Having your work on display." "'Grains of Sand?'" "Yes, the short story. Are you going to do it?" "Yes, I am," Juho answered without hesitation. He had resolved to have his story on display. When would he ever get to have his work on display in the school library? He would be publishing it under his name, Juho Woo. It was new, and something that had never been done. He didn't want to pass on such an exciting opportunity. "I've never published anything under my real name. I'm feeling anxious." "How many people do you think will end up reading your story?" "Who knows?" "They'd freak out if they found out that they were reading Yun Woo's work." "Like you?" "Yes, exactly like me, you punk." The chirping stopped momentarily, and then it resumed. It was a rather pleasant sound. "Are you planning on telling your friends?" He was referring to the rest of the club members. Juho answered as he breathed in the fresh air, "Yes I am. They'd still treat and look at me the same way." Juho had spent the last year being around people who didn't see him as Yun Woo. The once noisy space had taken on a different look. No one approached him with the knowledge of Juho being Yun Woo or with the intention of getting something from him. Simply, he had been their classmate and schoolmate. They treated one another as colleagues. Despite his writing, they saw Juho as who he really was. Now, another person who was willing to do the same had come into his life. Juho rested assured. "I'm curious about their reactions." "Make sure their jaws don't pop off." "Do you think it'll be that bad?" "Of course! Think about it! One of their friends has been Yun Woo all along. Haha! The thought of it is making me laugh." "You're having too much fun, Mr. Moon." While listening to his teacher laugh, Juho contemplated quietly on how to deliver the news to his friends.

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115 Chapter 115 - An Author’s Confession 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "How would you like to be confessed to?" Juho asked the club members in the room. He had finally reached an answer after spending a long time thinking. He had decided to confess to his friends in the way they would like to receive confessions. Everyone gave him a puzzled look. "Eh?" "What are you talking about?" "Are you planning on asking a girl out or something?" asked Seo Kwang as he chuckled. After a brief time thinking, Juho nodded and said, "Something like that." Everyone's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Who?" Baron asked gently, but since he couldn't give a direct answer at the moment, Juho just smiled without saying anything. "So, how would you like to be confessed to? Tell me." At Juho's urges, Seo Kwang took the initiative to answer, "I'm sure a bouquet and a ring are a must. A serenade is always nice. Oh, appealing to her intellect with a book would be a huge plus." Little did he know that he would be the one receiving the confession. A bouquet and a ring, serenade, and a book. If that's what he wanted, Juho was more than willing to give it to him. "Is that what you like?" "C'mon. Do you really think I meant all that? You look like you're about to run off to the jewelry store." While Sun Hwa shook her head, Bom added, "I've heard people don't ask each other out anymore. Apparently, they just end up dating without keeping track of when they first made the relationship official." "Wouldn't that be confusing though? What if I'm the only one who thinks that we're in a relationship?" "Couples communicate with their bodies and minds, so maybe it still works out?" "A flow of their own, perhaps?" "Love is a magnificent thing." Juho listened quietly. Since none of them were realistic, he decided to ask the upperclassman, "What about you, Baron?" "Probably, with a balloon in the middle of a square somewhere, " he answered half-heartedly, resting his chin on his hand. "Wow. That would be so embarrassing!" "That's quite unique." Despite the freshmen's responses, he didn't move a muscle. 'In the middle of a square. There would be too many onlookers. That is a no-go,' thought Juho. At that moment, Sun Hwa suddenly chimed in, "Sincerity is the most important. I feel like the situation won't matter as much as long as you're confessing with sincerity, even if it's over a meal." 'A meal,' Juho imagined breaking out the news to his friends in the lunchroom. Like the square, there would be too many people around. 'The snack shop, maybe?' He thought about taking the club members to a room within the snack shop. It didn't seem like a bad idea. "While I'm at it, I'd like to be asked out by a muscular guy," Sun Hwa added suddenly. Juho glanced down at his arms. Not a chance. 'Sorry, Sun Hwa.' "Oh, I…" "A book-loving girl? You might as well say that you'd like to be asked out by Yun Woo." Seo Kwang smiled brightly at Sun Hwa's answer. "Oh! That sounds good! 'I, Yun Woo, dedicate this book to my beloved fan, Seo Kwang Kim.' With my name printed proudly on the first page!" "Yeah, right." Unlike Sun Hwa's cold reaction, Juho was drawn to Seo Kwang's seemingly silly idea. "C'mon, it's just a thought. It won't hurt anybody. If that's asking too much… maybe in the epilogue somewhere?" "Do you have to degrade Yun Woo's book like that?" "Who said anything about degrading it? If anything, he'd look better than ever with the romantic touch." "I think you should just stick to reading." 'That's not a bad idea!' while the club members made fun of Seo Kwang, Juho said quietly and immersed in thought. He remembered the new book at the brink of publication, which he had written it under the name Won Yi Young. 'What if I mention the Literature Club in the epilogue? At least Seo Kwang would catch on. The book was written in Yun Woo's style. It might be under a different name, but he'd know for sure,' he thought. Seo Kwang would find himself in a world of confusion, but he would eventually reach the conclusion that his friend Juho had been Yun Woo all along. 'Drag.' Mr. Moon came into the room. Glancing in Juho's direction, he stood in his usual place and made an announcement, "If you'd like to put up your work on display, bring it here. At this moment, Juho is the only person who decided to take that action." The smile on the club members' faces suddenly disappeared. It was a difficult choice, but it had to be made eventually. Though they would be presenting an amateur work with a cover illustration of the same level, the decision had never been an easy one. "Thinking long and hard won't always yield a good decision." "Yes, Mr. Moon," the club members answered weakly. Thinking with her fingers wrapped around her head, Sun Hwa looked in Juho's direction and asked, "What made you want to do it?" "Nothing special." "You must have had a reason still. Something must have made you want to publish a book." "That's true." Juho stared at the ceiling for a brief moment and added, "it seemed fun." "Fun?" "Yeah, the fact that my work would be in the school library. A book is being published under my name. When would I ever get to do something like that?" "Sure, but aren't you afraid? This is school after all. We'll be here for the next two years, and once the kids start making fun of us, we might as well kiss our school lives goodbye." "Is that right?" Sun Hwa became irritable at Juho's lukewarm response. "What? Are you confident that you won't get made of fun of because you're a good writer?" "Not at all. I don't have that kind of confidence. I don't even know how many people will end up reading my story. I'm sure at least one person will make fun of me in his thoughts." "But?" "It has nothing to do with that." "What do you mean?" "I never begged for attention." Sun Hwa clenched her lips tightly. "I'm not begging anyone to read my story and give me positive feedback. I'm human, so I'm sure it'll upset me at times, but it's nothing some good food can't fix." "You're so calm. I wish I wasn't always so ambitious and greedy." Juho smiled quietly. Juho, too, wanted people to read his story and compliment him. In fact, those desires had always remained strong within his heart. However, he was fully aware that it would it take much more than him begging for it. It was the same for the opposite scenario. No matter how much an author begged for it to stop, there were always arrows of harsh criticism flying in their direction. An author's job had never been about begging, but to write something better than their last work. The only reason Juho was able to tell that to Sun hwa was because he had wrestled with the idea for a significant amount of time. Having listened quietly, Bom spoke up, "I want to do it." She sounded careful, yet unwavering. "I've always wanted to show my writing to others at least once. After all, it is my own work, so I want to be confident like Juho," Bom said looking up to Juho. He smiled as an acknowledgement of her sincerity. "Ughhhh!" Sun Hwa grumbled in pain. "You don't have to be so serious about it. You have to have been thinking about it. Shouldn't you have a decision by now?" "I keep going back and forth in my head because there's still time to change my mind!" "What did you decide to do?" Juho asked. "I decided to go for it," said Sun Hwa as she looked up. "Well, are you planning on changing your mind?" "..." "Are you not feeling confident?" "..." She gave him no answer. "Then, you can always change your mind. It's entirely up to you," Juho said in a calm voice. Freedom. He was right. It was a rare opportunity. There was no telling when Sun Hwa would be granted such a freedom again. She looked at her notebook containing the traces of her blood, sweat, and tears. She had worked too hard just to turn away because of her past memories. She clenched her hands into fists. "I worked my butt off. Who said anything about not feeling confident? I've already decided. I'm not going to change my mind. I'm going to have my work on display no matter what anybody tells me. Yeah, that's right. Anyone who values their life should know better than making fun of me." "So, I guess that means I'm preparing three separate cover illustrations," Baron said. A total of three people had decided to put up their works on display in the school library. Each one of them had reached their decision after long and careful consideration. They could very well end up regretting their decisions and find themselves feeling hurt by their readers' responses. Yet, they had decided to carry on with their choices. Kids would grow more mature from that experience alone. "So, who are you planning on confessing to?" Having thought that it was a forgotten subject, Juho quietly looked away. --- "What to do…" Juho sat in front of his computer, contemplating what to write on his author profile at the request of the publishing company, 'What would best describe Won Yi Young as a person?' "Should I write about grilled mackerel?" Aside from his writing, he had nothing impressive to offer. There was no way to know what kind of results his profile would bring. Yet, he felt content. After all, he wanted to be recognized for his writing alone. Juho remembered the confident look the president of the publishing company, Dong Baek, had on his face. There had been an unwavering certainty there, and Juho decided not to forget about someone who held such strong confidence in his work. Turning away from the computer, Juho picked up his pen. It was his first book as Won Yi Young. He was about to go out into the world for the first time without nothing to show for, and it was entirely natural. It was his first time after all. Self-introduction. No age or gender. Even the name didn't belong to him. For those reasons, Juho wanted to be honest when it came to describing himself. Something he could write with utmost sincerity. It had to be about the things he liked. The first thing that came to mind was books. He liked all genres of books and enjoyed both reading and writing them. He was also a fan of going on walks and interacting with various languages. An honest, yet modest self-introduction. "Now, the epilogue." Juho turned to the next page. Fresh. Clean. No traces of visitors. The time had come for him to confess to his friends in the way they wished. It might be closer to turning himself in than a romantic confession. 'A sentence that they can catch on as soon as they read it.' Juho thought about what that would look like. The similarities between the five. How they met. The memories they shared. Traces. "Writing." They all had desired a piece of writing. The club members had tried desperately to get a composition from the sole artist in the club. They succeeded, and naturally connected with him and got to know one another in the process. A once blank page slowly filled with black ink. Juho had a memory of seeing a white egret surrounded by four crows. Taking what he remembered, he unraveled it into something that closely resembled the Literature Club. He made sure to include a key phrase: 'the sole artist in the club.' Though it might not be significant to most people, those who were a part of the Literature Club with Juho would be able to catch on at once. "I'm sure at least one person will see it." Putting his faith in his clubmates, Juho kept writing. * With Dong Baek in the passenger seat, Jang Mi started her car. They were on their way to meet with the reporters. It was also an occasion for them to promote a not-so-new rookie. Feeling a familiar tension, she took hold of the steering wheel. She thought back on Won Yi's writing. The compulsive details in the portrayal of its world and its history. A mythology that changed shape depending on one's interpretation. The protagonist who had full faith in his interpretation and had left on a journey with his companions. The world that revealed itself as the readers came to know the characters. Above all, the unique language created by the author introduced a world that was inconceivably large. The protagonist and his talent enabled the readers to be able to get sucked in by that world. The book was quite immersive, and Jang Mi felt certain of its success. The main task of that meeting was to have people take one good look at the book. "Aren't you nervous?" "Not really," said Dong Baek. Jang Mi quietly glanced at his legs. They were shaking noticeably. "Well, I am. Maybe it's because I'm hiding something." "It's not like we're doing something wrong." "On the other hand, I'm feeling a tiny sense of bliss." The fact that she was one of the only people who knew the identity of Won Yi Young brought her a sense of bliss. Dong Baek chuckled. He was the president of the company. He had started a publishing company despite those around him advising against it. In his journey to become the president, he had read countless manuscripts and met with countless authors. He realized that he wanted to turn Juho's manuscript into a book the moment he met Yun Woo himself and read his manuscript. He wanted to sell it to as many people as possible and felt an urge to force the book into people's hands. He had always trusted his intuition. There was no part of him that sought to resort to any sort of trick to get more people to read the book. He had no intention of degrading the book in any way and he resolved to wait until the readers eventually came to acknowledge Won Yi as an author and spread the word themselves. In order for that to happen, all it took was for one person to take a look at the book. Once they got their hands on it, the book would practically sell itself. He intended on giving it everything he got. "I'm just not the type to be anxious," he said as he looked out the window. Jang Mi listened to him intently. "This is thrilling." "... Then, could you stop shaking your legs?" "Let's embrace it." Jang Mi stepped on the gas pedal as she took a deep breath. Fast. Embrace it. Thanks to her boss, she found herself in a confusing place, not knowing whether her heart was beating out of excitement, or if she was simply nervous. "First, we soften up the reporters," said Dong Baek. Jang Mi nodded quietly, agreeing to her boss' plan of starting something that suited the enormous world within the book.

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116 Chapter 116 - An Author’s Confession 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "The books are here." With those words, the window shook from a gust of wind. "Books?" "That's right. The ones you guys wrote," he said as he waved his hand holding the books with the covers designed by Baron. "Whoa!" Sun Hwa exclaimed as she jumped from her seat, and the rest of the club members followed. "Take it. This is for you to keep." Though they were thin, they were still books. The club members carefully took their book from Mr. Moon's hands. Meanwhile, Seo Kwang went busily from desk to desk to see everyone else's work. Juho picked up his short story. Considering that it was made in school, the quality was rather impressive. The material of the book felt smooth to the touch. He examined the cover and saw the sand under a clear, blue sky. The colors were quite strong. One would be able to tell how much work went into making it at a glance. "Do you like it?" Baron asked. The rest of the club members were busy reading through their book, but Juho nodded immediately. "Yeah! It looks like an actual book cover!" "I got some help from Mr. Moon. It turns out that he had some connections in the art community. It did take some time, but everything turned out quite good." It wasn't strange for Mr. Moon to have such connections, and Baron appeared satisfied with his own work. "I'm the sole artist in the club after all. This should be a piece of cake." Juho smiled at the sound of the familiar phrase. "You must have read the story. The cover design works well with the book." "I told you I'd read it. I was curious." "So, how was it?" Baron hesitated. He had been impressed after reading 'Grains of Sand.' Although the protagonist in the book didn't say a word throughout the entire story, Baron had been able to imagine the sound of her voice with ease. "It reminded me of Yun Woo, but different," he said. It made sense. Being written under the name 'Juho Woo,' the book was visibly different from Yun Woo's work. "I got a feeling that you'd end up being famous." "Famous?" "Yeah, like Yun Woo," Baron said with a playful smile. "Who knows? You might end up as a superstar at school." "The school library doesn't get a whole lot of visitors as is." "It doesn't take long for word to spread. Especially in a place like this." "No high school student in their right mind would read a book by their own choice." "That's not entirely true. Besides, a lot of people have been reading due to the Yun Woo fever. Parents have also been spending more money to buy their children books." "Well, I am somewhat of a decent writer." "What?" "It's true. I'm a pretty decent writer, aren't I?" "... Now that you put it that way, I'm not as willing to agree with you." After being at a loss for words for a moment, Baron turned his eyes to Juho's hands. "It really read like actual literature. I wanted to buy it," he said with his eyes fixed on 'Grains of Sand.' "You know I'm a fan of Yun Woo, right?" "Of course." "I think you have what it takes to be his match." "Do you think so?" "I don't know about beating him though." "Couldn't you just keep things on the bright side?" Then, Seo Kwang approached them from behind. "Whoa! Look at the cover design!" Juho handed his book over to Seo Kwang willingly, and he took the book from Juho's hand in a fluid motion. Seo Kwang's respect for books had been ingrained in him, and it was apparent in the way he treated them. "I want to see!" Sun Hwa said. Seo Kwang placed the book on the desk, putting the cover in full display. "Wow! You're not playing favorites or something, are you Baron? This looks so much better than mine!" she said as she placed her book next to Juho's for comparison. There was a drawing of a busy square on it. It was full of life, just like Sun Hwa herself. It looked just as charming in Juho's eyes. "Yours is pretty too, Sun Hwa," Bom encouraged her as she placed her book next to Sun Hwa's. This time, a pair of legs was climbing up a set of stairs. It gave off a calm and serious vibe. "They all have so much character! Thanks, Baron! You did great!" "I had fun." Suddenly, Seo Kwang squeezed his way in through the club members looking at their books and picked up 'Grains of Sand." "I haven't been able to read it for so many different reasons. Can I read it now?" he asked while looking at Mr. Moon. After exchanging a glance with Juho, Mr. Moon gave him permission. "Help yourself." "Yes!" "Hey! I wanted to read it too!" "Rock, paper, scissors?" Sun Hwa and Bom said in order. Before Seo Kwang had time to respond, Mr. Moon raised his hand. "One thing. Since those books are for you guys to keep, how about we read it at the library? It'll draw some attention too." "Draw attention? How?" "If nobody's around the book, it turns even the potential readers away. We should have at least one or two persons standing in line." "That's true," Sun Hwa agreed. Having been desperate to read the book, Seo Kwang put it back down reluctantly. "Waiting seems to be a recurring theme for me as of late." "Is there something else you've been waiting for?" Juho asked curiously. "Yep. I preordered a book recently. I hope it comes soon." "What the… Are you setting aside my book for another?" "You can always let me read it, you know." "Don't you have a responsibility at the library?" Juho said as he pulled 'Grains of Sand' away from Seo Kwang. Seo Kwang added, scoffing, "I came across an article recently. It's a debut title, but it's been drawing a lot of attention. It seems like it's already known among publishers pretty well. I can't let something like that pass, you know? I'm sure I can expect for it to have room for improvement since the author's a rookie and all, but I was drawn to it, so I didn't hesitate to order it," Seo Kwang said proudly. Suppressing his excitement, Juho asked calmly, "What's the book called?" "The Language of God." Juho nodded calmly. As expected, Seo Kwang was his first reader. "You read the epilogues too, right?" "Of course! That's when you can claim to have read an entire book." Seo Kwang followed up with a long lecture on what it meant to read through a book thoroughly. As he listened quietly, Juho anxiously waited for the moment. --- "Hey, what's this?" "What?" Everyone in class gathered around the blackboard. There were flyers containing information about the Literature Club and its members having their work on display in the school library. "We had a Literature Club in our school?" "You didn't know?" The responses were lukewarm. However, it wasn't outside of what the club members had expected. Though Juho quietly accepted the situation, Seo Kwang suddenly got up. "There are club members here, you know!" he said proudly. He seemed like he was intent on promoting the occasion to as many people as possible, and Juho observed him from a distance. "Is this about your story?" "No, but this friend of mine here wrote one." Just like that, Juho's plan to observe quietly came to swift failure. "Are you that good of a writer?" "Very. This guy's the ace of our club. He went out to competitions too!" Seo Kwang answered on behalf of Juho. On top of that, he was puffing Juho up deliberately. The word 'competition' did make Juho stand out more, but in truth, every club member had been part of a contest somewhere, including the sole artist in the club. "A competition?" "Is it famous?" "If you're curious, go see for yourselves." At that, a hassled look appeared on the kids' faces. "Nah, I'll pass. I don't feel like going all the way to the library." "I've done my share of reading with Yun Woo's books." They responded as Juho had expected. Yet, Seo Kwang didn't back off. "Yun Woo. Good stuff." "I ended up reading it because of my mom. It was actually a decent read." "Did you read all the way through?" "Yep," the student answered confidently as if he was proud of the fact that he had read through an entire book. At that, Seo Kwang added with sparkling eyes, "It felt good, didn't it?" Forcing these students to read had never been effective. Though they might bring their books to school, most students merely pretended to read them. It was common for them to set their books aside and play around with their friends. However, Yun Woo's book had been an exception. "Right?" Seo Kwang asked, and the student scratched his head. "Right… but I don't plan on buying books with my own money." "Who said anything about buying? Our books pursue quality over quantity, so I can promise you that it's going to be worth your time. It's just as good as Yun Woo's books." The student sneered at Seo Kwang's confident response. After all, not many books were as immersive as Yun Woo's. "Yeah, right. The only thing you guys have common with Yun Woo is your age." Seo Kwang tackled those mocking words head on. "Hey, don't you know how level-headed I am when it comes to books!? His writing is the real deal! It's a short story, so it won't take all that long to read." "Yeah, yeah." Sadly, Seo Kwang's head-on approach was not all that effective. Juho shrugged lightly. "That didn't work," Seo Kwang muttered. "We were expecting that." The student never changed his mind. However, it was too soon for them to assume that Seo Kwang's efforts would go unnoticed. Juho looked around and heard students whispering among themselves. "I didn't know the Literature Club did stuff like that." "Should we check it out?" "I don't know. It's probably not all that special." "They're so confident though. We should go and see for ourselves." At that moment, Juho met eyes with a girl he remembered conversing with in the past. She hesitated. "There's going to be mention of your name. You should go see it." While looking anxious, she nodded in response. Seo Kwang observed proudly. "Good thing I made a scene." Having gained some leverage, he encouraged all the other students to visit the library. Thanks to his effort, the existence of the Literature Club became known throughout the entire school. Juho came down to the school library. While partially intending to observe, he decided to check out a book in the meantime. As he put his book down on the counter, a pale hand with a barcode scanner came into view. Juho remembered speaking with her a couple of times in the past. He asked while looking around the library, "How is it having more people than usual?" "Tiring," the girl answered immediately. The exhibition area was in the corner of the library. Though small and humble, there were three books put on display. There were six students gathered around them, reading. Although the number was nothing to brag about, the books weren't doing such a bad job considering how the library usually was. As Juho was about to leave with his book and a proud feeling, the girl stopped him and asked, "You wrote 'Grains of Sand,' right?" "Yes. Did you read it?" "I did," she answered, looking at the book in Juho's hand. "Did you check out that one book on your last visit for reference?" "Yep." "But there was only one sentence in the entire story that had anything to do with sand." "I had to read an entire book just to be able to write that one sentence." At that, she stared at Juho intently. "What?" Juho asked. "You sound like an author." "I am an author. That's my book over there," Juho said, glancing at one of Yun Woo's books. "Right," she nodded with her eyes fixed on the exhibition. "You're a good writer," she added. "I enjoyed it quite a bit. I wanted to recommend it to other people." At that, Juho remembered their last conversation. She had compared Yun Woo's books to sand. "I see. How was my story? Was it sand-like?" With that, she briefly immersed herself in her thoughts. She seemed to be the type who was serious about everything. "Somewhat different, but yes." "How was it different?" "It was damp," she said. "Your story is like a clump of mud scooped out of the water. It's nearly impossible to separate it. It muddies the once clear water, and I can no longer see what's happening in it. It's different from the beach sand shining brightly under the sun." "Is that a compliment?" "Probably." Though her choices of words weren't the most pleasant sounding, Juho decided to accept it as a compliment. "Are you planning on writing again?" she asked, looking intently at Juho. He was well-acquainted with that gaze. Seo Kwang had often given him the same look. In other words, it was the look of a fan. "I sincerely hope you do. Your stories are quite enjoyable." A reader. That meant Juho had to keep on writing. "Probably," he said. With her innocent smile directed at him, Juho made his way out.

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117 Chapter 117 - An Author’s Confession 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Hey, it's Juho!" When Juho looked up, Sun Hwa and Bom locked eyes with him. He was on his way up the stairs while the two were on their way down. Having met in the middle of the stairway, they stopped and greeted one another. "What brings you here so early?" Juho asked. "We're on our way to the library." "We felt like reading your story again." "That's flattering." At that moment, Sun Hwa suddenly furrowed her brows. "Your story was so well-written… Why aren't more people reading it?" Though she had hesitated having her work on display, she became one of the most actively involved club members since the exhibition. Once she started something, she had to see it to the end. Remembering the students gathered around the books in the library, Juho said, "There was a good number of people." "No, no! I want more people!" "Well, let's give it time. It definitely seems like more and more people are visiting the library." Bom added to Juho's laid-back response, "Yeah, I'm sure we'll have more people visiting to read our stories. Besides, Seo Kwang's been going around telling everyone in school." "I can't trust that guy." Unfortunately, Bom's words fell short in comforting Sun Hwa. "He was distracted with another book even just a moment ago. He barely scanned through our stories and hardly made any comments on them. Besides, he was mostly focused on Juho's work. I swear, he needs to get off his high horse." "Seo Kwang does tend to be level-headed when it comes to books, even with his own story," while smiling awkwardly, Bom defended Seo Kwang. Sun Hwa pouted at that. Having listened quietly, Juho asked Sun Hwa, "What was the title of the book?" "Huh?" "What was Seo Kwang reading?" "Uh… What was it called?" While Sun Hwa was busy trying to remember, Bom answered on her behalf, "The Language of God." She sounded rather confident. "Hey, it's almost time! Gotta go!" After patting Juho's back lightly, Sun Hwa walked down the stairs with vigor. Juho watched them go for a moment, and then made his way up the stairs. "Hi," Juho greeted Seo Kwang from behind. Instead of an answer, he waved his hand in response. He had a sophisticated looking book in his hand. 'The Language of God, Volume 1, written by Won Yi Young.' He didn't move a muscle all the way up to the beginning of class. Recess came after the first period ended. "What you up to?" Like he had done earlier, Seo Kwang simply waved his hand. Only that time, he was asking Juho not to bother him. Just like that, the second period started. At that time, Seo Kwang moved in order to hide his book behind the textbook. Time passed, and lunchtime came. "Hey, let's go eat." "..." "Aren't you going to eat?" "No." "What?" "I'm not going to eat today. You go ahead." "Why not?" "I want to read my book." Seo Kwang gave him a series of brief answers. He had to be quite fond of the book. "Well, I'm going now." "Bye." On his way to the cafeteria, Juho bought a loaf of bread from the canteen and handed it Seo Kwang. Even as he took the break from his friend, his eyes remained completely fixed on the book. Seo Kwang had always been a serious print addict. Just like that, he remained in his seat, staring at the book for the entire day. "Hey." With a book in his hand, he looked in Juho's direction. "Long time no see," said Juho. "Are you done?" "No, I just skimmed through it," Seo Kwang said as he shook his head. "I see." 'I suppose that explains the innocent look on his face," Juho thought. "This book is just amazing." As usual, he began to share his book experience without anyone asking him to. "This book reeks of success. I can just smell it. It's still the first volume, but I have a good feeling about this series. As long as the author pays attention to the direction of the series, I know this going to be a hit." "The author, huh." "Yeah, Won Yi Young," Seo kwang said sadly as he brushed his hand down the book. "I underestimated him because he's a rookie. I almost missed out! Oh, gosh! I don't even want to think about it. Now that I've read the book, I'll never be the same." "Ah, right." "I'm serious!" he raised his voice. "I'm in love with his work, especially with those languages. They're created by the author. I almost screamed when I saw the language chart at the end of the book! It's so, so detailed. It's so real!" Because Juho didn't have much else to say, he listened quietly. "Look here. The description of the village. It just paints a picture on its own, doesn't it? It's so simple, yet clear. This is the part that sold me. Might I remind you that this author is a rookie?" "Impressive." "It's incredible, isn't it!?" "Yeah, exactly what you said." Juho smiled. Seo Kwang went on with his exposition for quite some time, then, suddenly, he lowered his voice. "You know what?" "What?" "So, I have a feeling…" "What feeling?" "That I saw that style of writing elsewhere. It seems familiar for some reason," Seo Kwang said with excitement and certainty. "Familiar how?" "I can't really back it up with anything, and this is strictly my intuition, but I'm still confident in what I'm feeling." Seo Kwang lowered himself and covered his mouth. "I think Yun Woo wrote this book," he whispered. 'Of course.' Juho knew that Seo Kwang would catch on. A sense of excitement washed over him. "As an avid fan of Yun Woo, and someone who owns all three of his books, I predict a new article coming out. 'Won Yi Young - Yun Woo's new alias.'" It was a rather exaggerated title for an article. "I'm telling you, this book couldn't have been written by a rookie! The progression is similar to Yun Woo's, as well as the style that it's written in. I can't really picture Yun Woo writing a fantasy novel, but he's the only viable candidate. No one can mimic his style of writing, yet there are traces of his style throughout the book. I don't think Yun Woo intended on being thorough about hiding himself either." "Hm." "You should check it out. The book isn't all that known, but the way I see it, it's only a matter of time. Fans can smell out a good book. Any fantasy novel fan would go crazy over this. I've already made up my mind to write a review on my blog too. I was thinking of including my conjecture of Yun Woo being Won Yi's true identity. What do you think? There would be quite a few visitors. Oh, wait. It's not going to cause any legal issues or anything, will it?" Juho said to his anxious friend, "No way. If anything, they would thank you. You're essentially advertising him." "You think so?" With that, Juho packed his bag and rose from his seat. "We should get going." "OK, give me a second." Wearing a relieved look, Seo Kwang put on his backpack. 'The Language of God' was still in his hand. --- As Juho climbed the stairs, footsteps echoed throughout the hallway. They were headed toward the science room at the end of the hall. Walking ahead of Juho, Seo Kwang still held the book in his hand. He had been quiet for some time now. To be precise, he hadn't said a word since he finished reading the book. Seo Kwang had to have read the epilogue and must've caught onto Juho's phrase. Seo Kwang was in a troubled state. 'Yun Woo's style and Juho's message. If I were to connect the two… I have to get over this wall of suspicion. Could it be that Juho has been Yun Woo all along? No, no way. That'd be absurd!' Stairs. That was where Seo Kwang had urged Juho to become a writer. "Nobody's here," Juho murmured on the empty staircase. Nobody was around for some reason. Maybe it was because he hadn't left the classroom later than usual, like when he conversed with Seo Kwang. Seo Kwang remained silent. Having walked ahead, he suddenly stopped in his tracks, forcing Juho to stop with him. His movements were rather mechanical. The air grew heavy with silence, and Juho looked at the window in the hallway. A cold breeze blew in from it. "Hey," Seo Kwang quietly opened his mouth. "What?" Juho answered. "What do you think the chances of other clubs having their own 'sole artist in the club?'" "Probably, not very high," Juho answered calmly. "I thought so. It can't be very high. In fact, we're probably the only non-art related club that has an artist as a member." Juho became curious about the expression on Seo Kwang's face. "Now, what do you think are the chances of my friend being Yun Woo himself?" Juho thought momentarily. "That's probably not very high either." "Right…" While still holding his book, Seo Kwang's hand dropped weakly. "What about me winning a lottery?" "Not very high, I'd guess." "I might as well win the lottery if any of those things are not likely to happen." "Yun Woo would be sad to hear that." Seo Kwang chuckled for a good while. "Haha! Hahaha!" "Hey, calm down." It wasn't until then that Seo Kwang barely managed to stop chuckling. "Mr. Woo," the name flowed right out of his slightly parted lips. Seo Kwang turned around and their eyes met. "Yes." "Are you Yun Woo?" "Yeah." "Really? You are?!" "Yep." Seo Kwang began to chuckle once again. He seemed happy on one hand, yet dumbfounded on the other. Suddenly, he staggered and leaned against the rail. Juho looked up from the stairs. "Have you been casting some sort of spell?" "Nope. No spell." "Then how…" Seo Kwang moaned. "How are you able to write in a style that's entirely different?" 'It sort of just happened when I came back from the dead,' Juho answered silently. "There must be another me inside of me." "Goodness…" Seo Kwang rubbed his face at his friend's half-hearted excuse. "You are seriously the most unique author in existence. There's not one writer in this entire world who is like you." "That's obvious." "That was the confession you were talking about!? Whoever said anything about wanting to hear that!?" "I tried hard to win you over. What did you think?" "You crazy son of a…...Agh!" He was smiling, yet tears were streaming down his cheeks. He seemed all the more crazy as he shouted at his friend, "Oh, my! Is this for r… Wow! Seriously! I would've never imagined that something like this would happen. My friend is Yun Woo!? This punk!? Yun Woo is crazy!" "Relax." "Relax? How do you expect me to do that when you just dropped a bomb on me like that? There are fireworks going off in my head, and you want me to relax!?" "OK, I get it." "No, you don't! What do you know about what I'm feeling!?" "Guess you have a point." "Aghhh!" Twisting his body, Seo Kwang cried out like a wounded beast. The stairway echoed with his high pitched cry. Juho fought off the laughter desperately. "Mr. Woo!" Overcome with excitement, Seo Kwang charged at Juho, forcing him to hold on to the rail from the impact. Their eyes met. "You owe me a hundred autographs." "That's hardly a challenge." "Expect me to invade your house later today. Is that OK?" "Sure. If you want, I'll show you the manuscripts too." "You really are Yun Woo!" "You're saying that now?" While they made a ruckus, they heard footsteps approaching their position. Holding each other, they looked up the stairway together and saw Sun Hwa, Bom and Baron. Nobody said a word. "Yun Woo?" Baron asked. Seo Kwang contemplated what to do for a brief moment. "What brings you all here?" he asked. "You guys were taking your sweet time, so we came looking for you." "Now, I'm seeing a couple of crazies here looking desperately for Yun Woo." "What happened?" the three asked taking turns. "What are you going to do?" Seo Kwang asked Juho. "I gotta come clean," Juho said and put his hand out to Seo Kwang. "What?" "Let me borrow your book for a minute." With that, he opened the book to the epilogue and handed it to the three. Their jaws dropped slowly as they came to understand the situation. Juho said to the three who were hopelessly at a loss. "Should we make our way to the science room?"

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118 Chapter 118 - An Author’s Confession 4

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "So, this book is written by Won Yi Young." "Yes." "But Won Yi Young is actually Yun Woo." "Right." "And you… you are Yun Woo." "That's right." "You said you have piles of papers littered throughout your room?" "If you'd like, I can show them to you." "Even Yun Woo's manuscripts?" "Of course." Sun Hwa approached Juho and poked him on the cheek to see if he was real. "Now, I get it." "Huh?" "I knew they were too good to be written by a student. No wonder you're such a good writer! I mean, 'The Grains of Sand' carried an entirely different feeling from 'The Sound of Wailing,' but wow! You're Yun Woo. Yun Woo himself!" she murmured. "This doesn't feel real to me. I didn't think I'd ever be able to meet him in person, but I've been seeing him everyday this entire time," Bom said, looking dumbfounded still. Because they weren't as sensitive to writing styles as Seo Kwang, Sun Hwa and Bom accepted that Juho had been Yun Woo all along, "Can't you write in different styles as long you put your mind to it?" "Can you change your own fingerprints just because you put your heart to it?" Seo Kwang answered Sun Hwa in a slightly tired voice. It made sense considering how much ruckus he had made. "There's a reason why people compare an author's style to their fingerprints. One can write like a certain author with practice. Yes, we can always hurt our fingers, but that doesn't mean that we can change our fingerprints just because we want to." "That's true." "But that's exactly what this punk has been doing." Feeling Sun Hwa and Bom staring daggers in his direction, Juho looked away and locked eyes with Baron, who hadn't said a word so far. "Yun Woo." "Yes?" Juho answered. Baron too had been an avid fan, as much as Seo Kwang. Shaking, he slowly approached Juho. "Yun Woo." "... Yes?" "Let me see your hands," Baron said as he raised Juho's hand up high as if he were holding it up to the sun. "So, this is the hand you've been writing with." "No, I'm right-handed." With that, Baron quietly moved onto the other hand. He was rather serious, and Juho's attempt to lessen the tension with jokes ended in failure. "I need an autograph." "Oh, of course." "Thanks." "Not a problem." "I mean it, thank you." Juho realized that he wasn't just thanking him for the autograph. He had no clue as to what kind of effect his book had had on Baron. However, he heard the sincerity behind Baron's words. While he smiled quietly, Bom chimed in, "I would like one too, please." Her cheeks were glowing bright red. Bom, too, had been an avid fan of Yun Woo. Juho remembered seeing her among the crowd surrounding the imposter for a signature. "I was here first. I'm supposed to get one hundred autographs." "What are you going to do with that many autographs? Juho, I only need enough for my family." "I'll blow my nose with them if I have to." The club members acted as usual. Whether Juho was Yun Woo or not, they were always the same. He realized that he was the one who needed to be thanking them. He had been writing with them. He had struck up conversations to get closer to them. He had also shared memories of a first love or invaded a world being sustained by a fragile friendship ridden with insecurity. Every person had revealed a side of themselves apart from their usual behaviors at school. At that moment, the door slid open as usual, and Mr. Moon walked into the room. After making a brief observation of the situation, he went straight to the point. "The compilations will be coming out soon." "Already!?" "It's almost finished. I've been collecting copies your works. It'll be finished once I include a free-topic composition from each and everyone here. So, I don't care what you write, just bring me something." "Wow… how time flies." "What should I write?" Seo Kwang was smiling. "Maybe I should write about Yun Woo." "Hey! Shh!" Sun Hwa cut him off as she kept her eyes on Mr. Moon. She looked rather obvious. "What? I just wanted to write about Yun Woo," Seo Kwang said in a flustered voice. "Oh." Suddenly, Mr. Moon interjected, "If you're planning on writing about Yun Woo, make sure you have his personal consent." "Pff. How am I supposed to do that?" "You can write about me," Juho said. All eyes were on him. "It's a free topic after all," he added with a nod. The air grew heavy with silence. With a shaky voice, Bom broke that silence, "Did you know, Mr. Moon?" He answered with a proud smile, "Of course! A teacher knows all." 'You just found out too, Mr. Moon,' Juho murmured in his mind. Just like that, the science room became rowdy once again. By the time the club members had come up with an outline for their last works to be included in the compilation, Mr. Moon asked, "The school festival is right around the corner, right?" "Yes!" Every class had been busy with preparations for the festival. They decorated the classroom and made food according to their class' theme. "Are we doing something?" Sun Hwa asked. "Nope," Mr. Moon answered. Everyone accepted his answer. Considering the size of the club and the nature of its activities, the five club members would be the only people who'd come to the school festival to write. "If you want, think of your stories in the library exhibition as your own festival. You may roam as freely as you wish on the day of the festival." "That won't be necessary." "Suit yourself," Mr. Moon said. "What's your class doing for the school festival, Baron?" Sun Hwa asked. "A restaurant." "What are you guys selling?" "I heard toast?" "What about you? Do we get to see you in an apron?" "Probably." "You mean you're going to be working?!" "I have to. They're making me." "I thought you wouldn't even bother," Seo Kwang said. "I'm going to stick around for a little bit and bounce." "That's still major progress!" Bom said. Everyone agreed that Baron was making a major breakthrough compared to how he had been in the beginning. "What about you guys?" Seo Kwang asked. "We're doing a class bazaar," Bom answered. "That doesn't sound all that interesting." "You'd be surprised. We're selling food too." "Seems like you guys are going to be awfully busy." Sun Hwa and Bom sighed simultaneously at Juho's response. They were expecting the same. "What about you guys?" "I heard we're going to have a variety of games, like darts." "That sounds fun!" Seo Kwang smiled proudly at Bom's response. "I'm the genius behind that idea." "I'm surprised they even let you come up with ideas." "What are you talking about? I should be the one coming up with ideas like that." "He's right," Juho agreed. "Seo Kwang's was the only idea." "Hey, man, nobody needs to know that!" Seo Kwang said in attempt to cover up the truth. "Really? That's just sad. People don't like to get involved in things in your class, huh?" "Yeah. Our class seems to be pretty unmotivated in general. It's as if everyone was agreeing to relax and not do anything." "That is the most comfortable thing to do," Bom said with an awkward smile. Expecting a busy schedule in the near future, she looked at Juho and Seo Kwang with envious eyes. After spending a significant amount of time discussing the school festival, Baron changed the subject, "I heard that the library's been getting more visitors as of late." Everyone's face lit up. "Compared to the past, definitely," Seo Kwang agreed, nodding his head. There had been significantly less people in the schoolyard because of the cold, and more and more people were visiting the library as the word spread. Though it looked nowhere near as popular as a restaurant, it was more than enough to put a smile on everyone's face. Though small, the fact that they had achieved something with their own hands brought about a great sense of reward. "I'm realizing how much power there is in marketing. We've been getting significantly more visitors in the library since Baron put up his poster." With Mr. Moon's help, the poster Baron had willingly created was posted on the bulletin board provided on each floor of the building. It was definitely eye-catching when walking up and down the stairs, and it successfully planted a seed of curiosity in those who saw it. Though Seo Kwang made a timid claim of credit, Sun Hwa swiftly ignored him. "All my friends have visited. They told me they read my story too!" "Did you hear any feedback?" "They loved it," Sun Hwa said proudly. Though simple, it was more than enough to move the heart of the writer, especially for the members of the Literature Club who had never written a book before. "'Grains of Sand' is the most popular one, right? I checked the library earlier. There was a long line in front of Juho's book." "Juho's book is like a specialty at a restaurant. People don't hesitate to wait in line to have it. Some even come from far away." "That's true. We've read it ourselves, so we know how delicious of a dish it really is." Seo Kwang and Sun Hwa said to each other calmly. "Anyway, marketing is really important. We should all do everything we can to tell people about our works!" She had said that in a way that resembled the president of a publishing company, and Juho quietly nodded. Marketing was always crucial, but Rumors were also just as important. He remembered his conversation with Dong Baek over the phone. They had discussed an increase in sales. In the publishing industry, rumors had the potentials to work to the publisher's advantage. It made people want to be part of a success story. The rumors usually had roots on a publishing company's subtle marketing strategy. They were carefully formulated in order to make the books more visible to people and they often used words like "recommendation" or "critically acclaimed" in order to draw more attention. It was comparable to lighting up a fuse. It took some time until the fuse would completely burn out, but Dong Baek had predicted that they would know the outcome by the end of the winter. Juho felt a sense of anticipation. How big of a bomb would be at the end of the fuse? --- 'Bang!' A sudden explosion sounded off, and everyone in the classroom complained. "What the… You scared me!" "Who was that!?" "Quiet! Everyone, focus!" Everyone submitted to the class president's orders, and Juho's eyes were met with balloons of various colors resting on the desk. "This will take ages to finish." "Are sure this isn't too many?" "They'll deflate over time. Don't you think it'd be better to blow them the day of?" Despite the kids' wishes, the class president insisted, "It's better to have them ready today. I know you guys are going to be wandering around on that day, so put those prize tags in and blow. Now." "Oh, c'mon. We won't do that." "Hurry up!" The kids quietly submitted to the strong-willed class president. Those who were more actively involved in the preparation came together as a group and decorated the windows per the class president's instructions. "A happy gameroom. Catches your ears, right?" "Yep." Seo Kwang seemed to be happy that his idea was being actualized. "If you're that happy, you should go join your classmates." "You know, I did think about it, but it's not like me to get my hands dirty." With a balloon in his mouth, Seo Kwang was reading a book that was resting on his knees. The class president glanced at him, but she didn't seem like she intended on scolding him. After all, he had been following her instructions. Juho brought a balloon up to his mouth, and the taste of rubber filled his mouth. He took a deep breath and blew into the balloon. As it puffed up, the tag inside of it moved about. "Giveaway prizes are pretty much limited to snacks, right?" "There are some writing tools too. Nothing special though." It was a school festival after all. No one could expect a laptop or a refrigerator as prizes. At that point, Juho was blowing on the balloons by reflex. "I'm getting bored." Seo Kwang had been quiet. He glanced at his book while blowing on his balloons, closing the openings with a knot as he flipped the pages of his book. He was rather skilled. Feeling his lips getting tired, Juho picked up yet another balloon. "Tired?" a voice asked from behind him.

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119 Chapter 119 - An Interview with a Monkey 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl With a balloon in his mouth, Juho turned his head and looked back. He saw a familiar face blowing up a balloon. Though they had been in the same class, Juho hardly remembered ever interacting with him and became curious as to why that classmate was striking up a conversation with him. "A little bit. It's been a while since the last time I blew up a balloon." Because he was starting to get bored, Juho decided to respond to him. His classmate's puffed up cheeks gave him a monkey-like appearance. After tying his balloon with a swift motion, he waved his red balloon side to side. "Right? I think the last time I blew up a balloon I was in elementary school. Man, I feel kind of old having a conversation like this, haha!" He laughed at his own joke. His reaction made sense considering that he was at his eldest in that moment. "Do you think we'll get a lot of visitors?" Before Juho had time to answer, another voice interjected, "Of course!" It was Seo Kwang. The classmate tilted his head like a puzzled monkey. "I heard Classroom 1's setting up a game room too." "Really!? Are we doing the same things then!?" A serious look appeared on Seo Kwang's face, but the classmate shook his head, still looking like a monkey. "No. It seems like they are focusing on card games. Apparently, there's someone who knows some magic tricks in that class, so there are going to be performances in between as well." "Fancy," Juho said. "Right? I don't know how interesting we can get with balloons." "Classroom 1 is on the first floor, so it might work out." "That means it's more likely that people will stop there before ours. Unless there are people who are actively looking for game rooms, most people won't think twice about skipping on a theme that's redundant to them." "This is unexpected." Seo Kwang and the classmate were having a friendly conversation with each other. Meanwhile, Juho listened quietly as he blew up his balloon. The monkey-like classmate knew quite a bit about what was happening in other classrooms. "What do you think?" "We'll find out," Juho said. Air leaked out of the balloon as Juho took his mouth off of it. "Yeah. Who knows? That magic trick might turn out to be really sloppy," Seo Kwang said. His conjecture wasn't entirely unrealistic. "Hey, we need to get going!" "Oh, right! You guys are doing something with your club, right? Write your names on the paper on the podium on your way out." Juho saw the two girls crossing arms together walking toward the podium. There were some students who left in the middle of preparations because they were part of a club that had planned on participating in the festival. Noticing Juho looking in their direction, the monkey-like classmate asked immediately, "Wait, you guys are part of the Literature Club, right?" "Yeah." "Yep." As Juho and Seo Kwang answered simultaneously, a bright smile spread across the classmate's face. A small dimple in the corner of his mouth accentuated his already monkey-like appearance. "I visited the library too. I really enjoyed it," he paused and looked toward Juho. "Juho Woo's, especially." "Thanks," Juho said light-heartedly. "I'm serious! I really enjoyed it! I was so shocked. To be honest, my expectations weren't that high." "Really?" "Yeah. OK, let's be real here. If I had decided to not visit the library, thinking that the stories would read like those of an amateur at best, I'd have had to live the rest of my life in regret. I didn't know short stories could be that interesting." A proud look appeared on Seo Kwang's face. He was delighted to hear that his classmate was discovering the charm books had to offer. "Speaking of which…" "Huh?" "Can I ask you something?" the classmate asked in a cautious manner. "What is it?" "It's about your work." Thinking back on it, Juho realized that the classmate had approached him like he had wanted to ask him something. 'Was he curious about my story?' "Sure," Juho said, nodding. "It's about the woman," he asked without hesitation after Juho's permission. "Uh, huh." "Why did she have to be silent? Was that on purpose, or a coincidence?" 'I see,' Juho thought. He decided to answer honestly, "She doesn't want to be bothered by anyone, so as the author, I should be the one to respect her foremost." "So, it was the result of trying to bring out her personality as much as possible, right?" He was quick to understand. "In 'Grains of Sand,' there's an old lady who mentions things that don't change, and the readers have differing opinions in their interpretation. What is your take on it?" "Differing opinions?" The monkey-like face twisted into a silly scowl. "You didn't know? There's been a long debate amongst your readers." "A debate? Over what?" The classmate cleared his throat and said, "Over whether or not the old lady was the woman herself. FYI, I was on the side that believed that they were the same people." "... Where did this take place?" "In our club." There was no way to know in that case. Frankly, Juho didn't even know which club his classmate was part of. The classmate urged him for an answer with his clear, monkey like eyes. "So, the things that remain unchanged signify the woman's future, right? Would it be wrong to interpret that the woman remains unchanged even as she grows into an old woman?" "Is that your interpretation?" "Yeah." After a brief time thinking, Juho answered, "A book can be interpreted in multiple ways. I don't think there's such a thing as a wrong interpretation. So…" "So? "You're not wrong." He felt like he was partaking in an interview. When Juho looked at his classmate, he was blowing up yet another balloon and was rather skilled at doing it. "What are you doing?" "You don't know which club I'm part of, do you?" "No, I don't." "I'm part of the one and only Newspaper Club." Juho turned his head toward Seo Kwang and asked, "Is our school known for our Newspaper Club?" "I have no clue." Despite Seo Kwang's response, the classmate grabbed Juho by the arm with a balloon still in his hand. It was yellow. "Would you mind if we write an article about you?" the monkey said. "An article?" Juho asked. "Yes." "You mean for the newspaper?" "Yes." As Juho remained silent for a brief moment, the classmate parted his lips to explain. "You're good speaker. On top of that, you know your own mind. I'd like to feature an interview with Juho Woo as an author. The next issue's going to be fancier than usual because of the school festival. This is great! You don't know how powerful of a tool a newspaper can be when it comes to promotion, right? On your end, the demand for 'Grains of Sand' will rise. As for me, I get to write something cool. It'd be like killing two birds with one stone!" he said as his eyes sparkled. Juho felt like he was reliving a past memory from back when he was being hassled by reporters. "I don't know…" "Why not? What's the issue?" "It's not that there's an issue. I'm just not really up for it." The classmate grew anxious at Juho's lukewarm response. "It won't take that much time. I'll make sure it comes out really nice. It's not like we're writing about anything weird either. It's about your story. I'm a fan too, you know? I loved 'Grains of Sand,' and I'm not the type to go around asking people for interviews. Mr. Woo, please." He clung on desperately. While Juho quitely blew up his balloons, another voice sounded, "Give it a shot." It was a unexpected suggestion from Seo Kwang. "Sun Hwa said it herself too. We're supposed to be promoting the heck out of out works. It's true that this will work to your advantage," he said with a smile. "His first interview? Hehehe..." he murmured. Juho realized that Seo Kwang was finding the situation to be entertaining. He already knew about Juho's identity, so it was obvious that he would find it entertaining. 'Promotion, huh,' Juho contemplated, and the classmate took the opportunity to convince Juho further. "I'll treat you as the main figure for the next issue. First page, big pictures. Did I mention this is going to be a special edition for the school festival? We're gonna be distributing copies from class to class and give 'em out even to the guests. You'll really feel like you're on the newspaper. You're already pretty famous! The entire school might end up reading your story, who knows? I'm telling you, this is an opportunity. The fate of the Literature Club is in your hands, don't you see?" "That's a bit exaggerated, don't you think?" "What are you talking about? Your story more than qualifies!" "Hm." "I'm not just sugarcoating it here. I approached you because I wanted to ask for an interview from the start!" "I see." "Oh, don't get me wrong though. I just wanted to have a conversation with you because I was moved by your work." "Right." Juho felt frazzled. Promotion, past and present, Yun Woo's first interview. "I won't take any pictures," Juho said as he let out a sigh. "Yes!" The monkey-like classmate threw his fist into the air. "Hey, we have to get going now," he said to the class president. "Now?" "Yes, now!" Juho jumped from his seat. --- "It's here." Juho was brought to the music room upstairs. He was not very familiar with the place. As the classmate opened the door, Juho was welcomed by warm air, and a strange smell washed over him. There was a newspaper and the pages of a sketchbook spread out across one of the desks. On it, were printed articles and photos cut out in varying sizes. A girl stood in the middle of the room. "Hello," the classmate greeted her. "What the?! You're not here to ditch your class, are you?" she asked, squinting at him. "No, not at all." She was the head of the Newspaper Club. As her sharp eyes turned toward Juho… "Juho Woo!" she said as her eyes widened. "Huh?" Though Juho had never met her, she was rather friendly with him. "I really enjoyed your work! Haha! You have no idea what kind of mess I was in the last several days. We argued night and day!" Like the monkey, she too was laughing at her own jokes. It must have been the overall atmosphere of the club. "I bring good news! I finally got him to agree to an interview!" As the classmate pronounced himself proudly, a bright smile spread across the girl's face. "Good job, Seung! Oh, I'll leave you two be, so make yourselves at home. Give him something to drink too! We don't have anything to eat at the moment, but I can always bring something. I'm counting on you. Don't ask anything silly now. Wait, maybe I should just interview him myself." "That doesn't sound very ethical." "Then, do it right!" They were rather busy, and the girl left the room in a hurry. The classmate led Juho into the room and said, "Sit wherever you'd like. I'll go bring you some water." "OK." Then, he also left the room and made his way to the water dispenser at the end of the hallway. Juho looked around the room. There were long, rectangular desks lined up next to each other. It seemed like it would sit at least eight people comfortably. Maybe they were the same desks as the ones in the science room. The desks must have came from the music room. Juho sat in the first row and saw a Janggu resting next to the chalkboard. A piano was on the other side of the board, and a Geomungo leaned against it. Eastern and western instruments came together harmoniously in that room. On the other hand, the newspaper spread about the middle of the room gave off a rather unorganized look. It suited the Newspaper Club members somehow. (TL's Note: Janggu: Traditional Korean drum. Geomungo: Traditional Korean Zither) Juho had never been interviewed in a place like that. Usually, it had taken place in high-end restaurants or luxurious offices, where the place provided for a suitable background for photos. Now, he was about to have his first interview in a messy, unorganized space. Juho felt somewhat excited in anticipation for the upcoming interview. "Thanks for waiting!" The fact that he was being interviewed by a monkey-like boy made Juho look forward to it all the more.

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120 Chapter 120 - An Interview with a Monkey 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "I could only find hot water, so I brought you tea instead," the classmate said. The paper cup steamed with warm green tea. Walking over to the other side of the desk, he sat facing Juho. The two cups of tea on the desk contributed to the resemblance to a professional interview. He took what looked like a school laptop out of his bag. It had to belong to his homeroom teacher. Next to it, was a piece of paper with a series of basic questions written on it. In order to keep Juho from seeing it, the classmate pushed it aside. "Now, let's begin. Would it be OK if I were to refer to you as Juho from now on, Mr. Woo?" "Sure, but what's with the formality?" "This is, of course, an official interview. It's basic courtesy," the classmate said with a monkey-like smile. A faint whirring sound came from the distance. "OK. First question. Where were you born, Juho?" It was obvious that he was borrowing from another interview. An author's life had a profound impact on their work. The author's birthplace was a commonly asked question in interviews with international authors. Juho answered willing and accordingly, "I was born in Seoul and lived in the city ever since, but I didn't grow up looking only at a forest of buildings." "Does that mean you've traveled around a lot growing up?" the classmate asked candidly. He wasn't even looking at the paper, which meant he was creating or modifying questions depending on the situation. Though it seemed insignificant, it was proof that the interviewer was listening to the interviewee intently while thoroughly understanding the responses. Simultaneously, it also meant that the interviewer had a clear sense of direction. Only then, did Juho realize that he was being interviewed. "No. There are parts of Seoul that make you feel like you're in the countryside. They're not necessarily older neighborhoods. Even this school is built near the mountains, so we often hear insects chirping. "Even the countryside is becoming more city-like, so it is true that the boundaries are becoming fuzzier." The sound of the keyboard filled the room. The classmate was typing out the interview. There was no way around it, since he didn't have access to a recording device. "So, when you wrote 'Grains of Sand,' did you refer to sceneries like the ones you mentioned earlier?" "No. I actually made trips to the beach." "Oh, wow! In person?!" he answered as he jotted something down on the paper he had set aside. Then, he focused the subject on the author himself. "'Grains of Sand' is your first book, right? I know that you've been part of the Literature Club, but did you start writing before you joined?" "Yes. It was a simple hobby of mine." "What topic have you written the most about?" "I wasn't really picky about genres. It's a hobby after all. There was no need to be insistent. I wrote freely… however I felt like on the day." "For someone who speaks with such modesty, your skills are rather impressive. Did you receive formal training?" "No. Just linguistics class at school and the Literature Club." "What's your secret to writing?" "There's no secret, really. Oh, wait. According to our homeroom teacher, Mr. Moon, one becomes a better writer by simply writing more." The classmate's eyes narrowed. "Did you ever think of your skill as a talent you were born with?" "I think frequently that writing takes more than just skill," Juho said as he laughed light-heartedly. The classmate moved his hands busily. He was skilled in multitasking. He asked question with his mouth while writing with his hand and thinking about the next question with his head, all at the same time. It was rather impressive. "You mentioned just now that one simply has to write more to be a better writer. How often do you write?" "I'm not sure. I don't count the days I'm writing. It's hard to say." "I see." He backed out suddenly. He was reserving the time and energy for the more important questions. "Your work has been growing increasingly popular at school lately. What is your perspective on this?" Juho remained silent for a moment, then said, "That sounds a bit exaggerated." At that, the classmate smiled playfully, looking all the more like a monkey. "Trust me on this. Fame is what calls for more fame." He didn't let up. In the end, Juho referred back to his experience and gave him a cliche of an answer, "Well, I'm not sure if I'm getting famous or not, but the fact that there are people reading my work remains true. I'd like to express my deepest gratitude to my readers." With a satisfied smile, the classmate continued with his questions about 'Grains of Sand.' "In 'Grains of Sand,' rocks serve the purpose of a medium. The old lady treats them with significance, but in the end, she tosses them all into the sea. Would it be possible to interpret that the significance of the rock has changed?" "That would be very much possible," Juho said, nodding his head. "I'd always thought that the subject of this book had always been about things that remain unchanged. Wouldn't that interpretation contradict the subject?" "Perhaps. I stayed true to the flow when I wrote it." "What are you referring to when you say 'flow?'" "Whether things change or not, it's all the same. That's what I meant." "In what way?" He was rather persistent, so Juho gave him an answer after organizing his thoughts for a brief time. "The person who gives rocks significance was the old lady. On the other hand, she's also the person who removes their significance. Whether or not she kept those rocks with her, the fact that she's her own self remains unchanged. I focused on those things as I wrote." That was what Juho actually wanted to portray. "We can always imagine that the old lady lived through youthful days. Her young and old self are the same person, but depending on how one interprets it, one may argue otherwise. She may have changed to some, while she always remained herself to others." The classmate forehead furrowed. He didn't seem to understand. "Are you saying that it's impossible to clearly distinguish between the things that change and things that don't?" "What I'm saying is that it's up to the readers how they want to distinguish them." It was up to the readers to decide who the old lady was or what the rocks meant. "I think I might have an idea of what you're trying to say, but OK." "That's more than enough. If you focus on the significance too much, it takes away from the reading experience. Speaking of which, you're kind of going back and forth between yourself and an interviewer. What happened to your basic courtesy?" "Oh, 'scuse me. That was my bad. Now, why don't we move on to the next question?" Clearing his throat, he resumed the interview. "You mentioned earlier that 'Grains of Sand' was a story that you thought of after personally making a trip to the beach. Can you tell me more about that?" "There isn't much to tell, really. I just thought of the story while I was there. That's it." At Juho's lukewarm response, the classmate pushed on with another question, "There are a lot of things at the beach, but what made you write about sand of all things? When I read your book, I was getting a strong impression that there was something rather significant about it." Juho imagined the woman wearing her blue jeans with grains of sand on it, and he remembered the reason he had decided on giving her those things. "To be more precise, it's the exact opposite." "The opposite?" "I didn't think of a story while I was relaxing at the beach. I went to the beach with the specific intention to think of a story." The classmate asked Juho to elaborate with his eyes. "In other words, there's no reason," Juho said calmly. It had been an impulsive encounter. Though one could argue that there had been profound reason where destiny and coincidence had come together into a tangled mess, Juho didn't want to explain something like that. After catching on tactfully, the classmate proceeded quietly, "So, this was mentioned in the synopsis, but the protagonist receives a gift before she leaves for the beach. What's interesting here is that there's no mention of who gave her those gifts anywhere in the book." "Right." "I'll ask you directly. Who did it?" Having followed the standard procedures consistently, the classmate took a sudden turn in the way he approached his interviewee. While it was somewhat awkward, Juho preferred him being direct. "It doesn't matter. If I didn't portray someone in my book, that's what it means. It could be a reader, or me even, the author. It could be a friend or a family member. What's important is that somebody gave her a gift, and she received it." "That's where the story begins." "Right. Her trip begins with the affection she received from another person." "All without saying a word." "Words are not needed in gifts. One can always identify with another without saying a single word. The fact that we can communicate with foreigners or stray cats is proof." Juho looked at the classmate. Though monkey-like, he was rather charming. 'What would happen if he actually turned out to be a monkey?' He wouldn't be able to understand a single word Juho said to him, and the interview would be left in ruins, filled with misunderstandings. Yet, there had to be ways to connect with him. It was always possible to share feelings with people of different races who spoke different languages. "Now, this will be the last question regarding 'Grains of Sand.' In the beginning of the book, there's a part that talks about the protagonist's daily life, and it begins with her walking past the school. Would it be possible to interpret this scene as a criticism toward the educational system?" Taking his eyes off the face of his monkey-like classmate, Juho answered with a shrug, "The bell actually indicates the beginning and end of a class. I wasn't intending on criticising anything in particular. What the readers identified with from that part is an issue out of my hands." Slight displeasure appeared on the classmate's face. "Could you share at least a little bit about what you really thought?" After thinking briefly, Juho gave him an answer, "Well, I am currently a student myself." The classmate let out a chuckle. It seemed like the interview was nearing its end. While typing away slowly at the keyboard, he asked hesitantly, "This might be somewhat of a sensitive question. Would you mind?" His cheek trembled slightly. "Let's hear it," Juho said. "Frankly, after reading your book, I became curious." "About?" "You've been writing all this time, and your skill is next to none. Yet…" He took a deep breath. "... You didn't win a single award for the school essay contest." It was as unexpected of a question from the amount of time he took to ask it. Juho revisited an old memory that was nearly forgotten. He remembered Seo Kwang eating his fried chicken. "Ah, right." The monkey's eyes sparkled with curiosity at Juho's response. "Was it because you couldn't fully utilize your skill?" "No." If anything, Juho had overexerted himself that day. "Was there a person disrupting you?" "Not necessarily." "There has to be something." "Not really," Juho said. "I just fell short. That's all." While writing busily, the classmate's hand came to a sudden stop. He looked rather displeased. For someone conducting an interview, he was rather vulnerable. "Oh, c'mon! Can you be a little more specific?" "I told you. There's nothing to it." "You? Falling short in an essay contest? No one's going to buy that. Give me something, an excuse, anything." "Oh, boy..." In the end, Juho gave into his classmate's persistent character. "It was mostly my fault. When I was deciding on the direction of the essay, I didn't take where I was into consideration. I was disqualified." "What was it like? What did you write about?" "A plaster figure." "Oh, yeah. That was the weirdest one. How did you manage to get yourself disqualified with it though?" "There's an animal," Juho said as he remembered his writing then. "An animal?" Juho was referring to a character from his story. "Do you know what Bonobos are? They're very peaceful for the most part." The classmate caught on to where Juho was coming from immediately. "Did you write about them having sex or something? Is that enough to get you disqualified? It's biological, so it's strictly scientific fact." "Well, the teacher who read my story thought otherwise." "How curious…!" After a brief time thinking, he moved his pen busily. Juho had no idea what to expect. "Please, don't write anything too provocative." "Don't you worry. It's not like I've done this once or twice. The main focus will be on 'Grains of Sand,'" the classmate said as he wrote busily. "OK! Now, our last question for the day." "Great." Feeling a sense of relief, Juho waited for the question patiently. "There's a professional author who is the same age as you. He's responsible for writing the current top bestseller. There's something commonly referred to as 'Yun Woo Fever.' What is your opinion on that?"

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121 Chapter 121 - An Interview with a Monkey 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "You must be referring to Yun Woo." "Yes, Yun Woo," the classmate reaffirmed, his eyes sparkling with interest. He seemed ready and determined to write down whatever response came out of Juho's mouth. As the room grew silent with the absence of the keyboard sound, the whirring sound of a heater came to life again in the distance. "I'm not sure." "I'm sure you think about him. You guys are the same age and active in the same field. He's also in a vastly superior position." Juho had been thinking about Yun Woo. After all, they were the same person. As the silence prolonged, a puzzled look appeared on the classmate's face, and he asked, "You're not going to tell me that you don't know who I'm referring to, are you?" "I do know the author you're referring to." "Have you not read his books?" "I have." The monkey looked all the more confused. "I think he's one of the most popular authors around." Yun Woo was the most popular author at the time. However, the classmate seemed unsatisfied with Juho's answer. "Surely you have more to say." "More?" "Yes, something with bit more punch." "Hm." More punch… Juho took his time to give an answer. "Sometimes, I wonder if he's actually putting his all into his books." "Huh?" "I'm talking about Yun Woo. 'The Trace of a Bird' was his debut title, so there's no point in complaining about a book that had already been written. On the other hand, an author shouldn't run away from his own work. His sophomore title, 'The Sound of Wailing,' was a slight improvement from its predecessor, but the author still got a ways to go. It bothers me that there are places in the story where the dynamics could have been kept under better control. The son and the clown left me with more to be desired. I wish the son had more presence. Meanwhile, the clown had way too many things to say. If the ending had packed a bit more punch, I reckon it would've been a significant improvement to the overall balance of the story." "Hold on, hold on. Stop." The monkey suddenly stopped Juho, waving his hands in a hurry. He must have not written anything that had just come out of Juho's mouth. "C'mon, I thought this was what you wanted," Juho said silently. "What are you doing?" "I'm giving you my opinion on Yun Woo." "What?! Are you trying to start an anti-Yun Woo movement?" "Anti-Yun Woo?" The classmate chuckled and said, "Do you know how many Yun Woo fans are out there?" "At least I'm being honest." "That's what makes it worse! How could you say things like that to our Yun Woo?" "Our Yun Woo?" Ignoring his question, the monkey glared sharply at Juho. "I've yet to come across someone who talks smack about Yun Woo. You're bothered? What about him and his books could possibly bother you? He's a genius, you know." The classmate seemed to be clueless about what Juho was talking about. After all, those were things that would only be noticeable to him as the author. He knew that he could have done better and he didn't plan on being content with the title "genius." He was determined than ever to get what he wanted. It was an Achilles' heel that had been uncovered by Juho's greed as an author. "Yun Woo's works are perfect," the monkey said, and Juho chuckled quietly. "I thought you wanted something that packed more punch? I gave you what you asked." "No, that's not what I was looking for." "Then?" "Something more light-hearted, like rivalry, or something like: 'I want to be just like him when I'm older.'" "You seem to be have trouble making up your mind." "Well, it's just that your response was way too strong." Juho pondered for a brief time and said, "I think he's a good author." Just like that, the interview came to an end. "OK, I'm going to take some time to organize the content of the interview," the monkey said. After watching quietly for some time, Juho remembered the balloons that he was supposed to be blowing up and made his way back to the classroom, all the while, curious about the door being slightly open. --- An icy cold breeze rushed past Juho's cheeks. The air felt colder in the park than in the areas around it. Maybe it was because the place was surrounded by trees. White smoke puffed out of his mouth steadily as he ran. After running a lap around the park, Juho sat on a bench to rest. "It's cold today." He felt the sweat cooling down, taking his body temperature with it. At that rate, he would catch a cold. Not wanting to head back home just yet, he decided to look for somewhere warmer. 'Where should I go? A cafe? A restaurant?' He looked for a building that would protect him from the cold. As he walked slowly, a pyramid-like structure came into view. It was the botanical garden he had gone to with Nabi, the publishing agent of his first book. The pots outside were covered by a straw mat. Unlike in spring, there were no leaves or flower. "Should we go to the botanical garden?" "It looks like it's closed. Let's just go to the cafe." A couple conversed as they turned around at the entrance. The botanical garden gave off a sense of stillness and made people hesitate to go in. It seemed as if everything had fallen asleep. Juho flung the door open. In the past, he had experienced life as a starving, homeless man. At the time, he would frequently seek shelter in the botanical garden to keep himself warm in the winter, and the door to the garden had always been open. "Nice and toasty as usual." As he opened the door, he was greeted by a wave of warm, damp air washing over him. The very first thing that came into view was a split road: Cacti to the right, and various tropical plants to the left. Since he was planning on sitting down and resting, he took the path to the left and was immediately greeted by its distinct, damp-smelling air. Juho looked up to the trees that stood tall. The branches were tangled together and made it nearly impossible to distinguish the trees apart. 'I'm sure there's someone who can name every one of these trees and plants here, just like how I can with novels,' Juho thought. After he walked through the windy trail, the sound of running water became audible. It sounded somewhat artificial. Soon, a pond with a small waterfall at the center appeared. There were about ten rather large carps swimming in the water. Juho walked over to the bench on the other side of the pond and sat down. Quiet. There was nobody around. The warmth and the sound of running water were the only things in the air. The place had a soothing effect. Juho revisited his memory of what had been happening at school lately. The classroom was decorated with various shapes and colors, having little resemblance to its usual appearance. The lockers were covered in balloons, and a white line had been drawn across the center for the dart throwers. All the desks were moved to the hallway, while various prizes were spread about on one side of the classroom. He remembered being in doubt even as he was blowing up his balloons. However, the result wasn't half bad. Despite it being the weekend, there were bound to be students who had to go to school in order to finish decorating the classrooms. The school festival was just around the corner. In a daze, Juho looked up at the banana leaf above his head. 'Is that where bananas would be hanging?' 'Click!' a shutter sounded off suddenly. Juho slowly turned his head toward the source of the sound and saw a student holding a camera. Judging from the uniform, she went to the same school as him. "Did you just take a picture of me?" "Yep," she answered light-heartedly. Thinking it over briefly, she asked, "Is there a problem?" "I'd appreciate if you deleted that picture." "Sure. No problem," she said light-heartedly once again. Approaching Juho, she showed him the step-by-step process of deleting the photo. "Will that do?" "Yes." Hoping she would go on her way, Juho looked up at the banana leaves. 'Maybe it's not a banana tree at all. It would've been nice if they were labeled,' he thought. Despite his wishes, the tree stood tall in silence. "Hey," the girl with the camera called for him. "Yeah?" "You're Juho Woo, right?" Although they had never met, she knew his name somehow. Juho realized that it had been happening more frequently as of late. "Have we met?" "No, but I've read your work, 'Grains of Sand.'" "Ah, right. Thanks." At Juho's response, the girl approached him in a friendly manner. "You're such a good writer. I don't know if I'd be the most qualified to judge since I hardly read on my own, but there was not one bit that felt awkward. I read it from cover to cover in a single breath. This is the second time that's ever happened to me." "Second?" "Yeah." "Who was your first?" Juho asked. "Yun Woo's book. You've heard of 'The Trace of a Bird,' right? It was my sister's book. She wouldn't stop talking about it, so I read it just to shut her up, but I ended up staying up the entire night reading it. I was so astonished that there are people in this world who are capable of creating something like that. That goes for you, too." She was rather talkative. There was no trace of shyness in her, and Juho nodded quietly as he felt her gaze on him. "But you're not a fan of Yun Woo, are you?" Juho locked eyes with her. "I don't dislike him. Who told you that?" "C'mon now. Don't worry. I like his book, not Yun Woo himself," she said confidently. Holding back his urge to chuckle, Juho answered, "I'm serious. I don't dislike him." She sneered at his denial. "Was that why you were so critical of Yun Woo in the music room?" "A-ha! So, you were the one eavesdropping." She had to be the person responsible for leaving the door open. "Yep," she admitted without hesitation. Juho, too, had no intention to question her motive. As he remained quiet, she parted her lips and asked, "Then what is it? If you don't dislike him, why were you so harsh in your criticism?" "Was I? I was just sharing how I felt." "What's the difference?" "It's in there, somewhere." She kept trying to talk to him, and Juho became certain of something. "Is there something you wanted to say?" he asked. "... So… " "Yeah?" She slowly opened her mouth. In most cases, one talked to someone they had never met when there was some need. Being someone who spoke to people frequently, Juho was well aware of that. "I know that you're already a good writer." "Yes, I am." "How did you come up with the title 'Grains of Sand?'" she asked, looking like she was holding something back. Unlike the monkey, who had asked him about the protagonist or the significance of the sand, the girl was asking a much simpler question. 'Why is she asking that?' Juho wondered, but he decided to answer her anyway. "I didn't come up with it." "What?" "Somebody else came up with it." An apparent disappointment washed over her face. "That can't be right…" she murmured. "Do you know how long I've been shivering in the cold?" "Shivering?" "I've been following you. I was waiting for the right timing to approach you." "Were you stalking me?" "No, I happen to see you at the park, so I followed you." "What's the difference?" "Destiny," she answered briefly. "For goodness sake, aren't you cold!? You were jogging forever!" "Why do you think I'm in here?" "Sigh, what a letdown. I thought you'd be my destiny." The corners of her mouth turned downward into a sad frown. "What's the matter? What was it about the title?" At his question, the sadness on her face faded away quickly. "... so, I was quite fond of the title. It summarizes the book nicely. So…" She hesitated, fiddling with the camera in her hands. "I'm in the Photography Club. I just came from school after helping out my clubmates with the decorations. Our club is doing a photo exhibition, and I need a title for my photo. But…" She hesitated once again. "You still haven't decided on a title? The festival is the day after tomorrow!" "That's why I'm wondering around the park, hoping I'd find some ideas!" she snapped at him angrily. Juho came to grasp her situation. "And then I met you. Of course, I'd think that it was destiny." "Is it that obvious though?" "And now, you're telling me that another person essentially named your book." "That's right." Wearing a depressed look on her face, she looked down at her toes. The air grew heavy with silence. The once talkative girl was nowhere to be found. Juho turned his eyes back to the banana leaves. "Ah…!" she exclaimed in realization. 'Did she come up with a title?' "I'll have another person come up with a title too!" 'I guess not,' Juho thought. "What?!" "That's what you did. I should do the same!" "Well, I guess there's no reason you can't or shouldn't." Her eyes sparkled. "So, I know we just met." "Uh-huh." "But I have something I'd like to ask you." "I think I have an idea, so I'd rather not." "Are you hungry, by any chance? Are you craving anything? Would you be uncomfortable eating with someone you've never met before? Oh, yeah! How about this? I'll pay you for naming my photo. I happen to have some cash on me." "That, I have plenty of." "Right, I thought you looked like you're pretty well-off. So, what do you think?" That time, Juho couldn't resist his urge to chuckle.

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122 Chapter 122 - A Frog and The Festival 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Juho had never been asked to come up with a title for another person's work. 'What kind of photo does it take to put someone in such misery?' Juho wondered. "Do you think you can take a look at my photo?" "Of course." With that, the girl held her camera up and busily tapped its buttons in order to search through the pictures stored in it. After a while, she handed the camera to Juho. A frog became visible in the tiny camera screen. "A frog?" "Yep. I took it in spring." Because they were in a botanical garden, looking at the picture of a frog didn't feel out of place. A small, green frog was sitting on a leaf in a rather peculiar pose. "It looks funny." "Right?" The frog was hanging perilously from a stem while its hind legs hung loosely beneath the leaf. "It even has that staring-out-into-the-distant-mountains look!" "Doesn't it remind you of a middle-aged man?" "It looks like someone who's just given up on life too." In other words, the frog looked rather human-like. With its sad eyes, it seemed like it was looking into the future or reminiscing about its, perhaps regretful, past. While it looked like a child riding on a swing, it also looked like a middle-aged man in desperate need for a smoke. Its posture was quite different from how Juho remembered a frog. If he were to see a frog like that, he, too, would have stopped in his tracks. "Are you looking for something funny for your title?" 'Like the frog's whimsical pose, perhaps?' She denied it without hesitation. "No." "Then, something sad, maybe?" "No! Look at the frog. It'd make no sense!" Juho nodded quietly at her objection. A sad title wouldn't suit the photo. "I saw quite a few pictures on your camera when you were flipping through them earlier. What made you decide on that picture in particular?" "It's kind of a long story." "I have plenty of time." "No, I mean there's no time. The festival is the day after tomorrow." "That's true." Unlike Juho, who spoke calmly, she didn't bother to hide her anxiety. "I know I'm not in the position to be rushing you, but are you struggling because you need something sweet? Should I go get you something?" "I need information more than sugar," Juho said. "Information?" "Regarding this photo. I'm an author, someone who give his story a name." "Story? But this is a photo." "Stories can be found anywhere, just like how you're the protagonist of your life," Juho said. "Does that mean I have all the clues I need to come up with a title? Like a protagonist in a novel?" she asked while wearing a serious expression. "I guess you can say that," Juho affirmed, blinking twice. "OK, fine. I'll tell you. What would you like to know?" she asked, still looking serious. "Anything, really. As long as it's relevant to the photo." Her eyes moved busily and then stopped at the frog. "I first met this frog this past spring. We met at a park, right around the time when insects were starting to crawl out of their holes." A background of time and space. Juho listened to her story intently. "I was in the middle of club activities. Our club comes out to this park to take pictures, and that's when I met this funny-looking frog. It was destiny." Juho nodded quietly. "But I was just watching it since I didn't really feel like taking a picture of it." "Yeah?" "Yeah." 'I wonder what moved her?' Juho wondered. "That's when this grandma appeared." A new character. "It was hard to make out her expression because of all the wrinkles on her face. She looked kinda scary with her back bending forward." "Uh-huh." "So, I moved aside, and the grandma just stood in front of the frog… " The garden was quite warm throughout the year, regardless of the season. Her camera was exactly the same way. It contained her memory of the day when she met the frog. "... and smiled brightly, enough to straighten her wrinkly face," she said as she looked into the distance, where the banana tree was standing. "Eventually, she started cracking up, holding her sides. That's when the frog looked really special all of a sudden, so I ended up taking a picture of it." She took a picture. What was once merely funny had become the recipient of affection. It had moved her. "I wanted to give her my picture, but I never saw her again. I guess it makes sense considering how big the park is. When I first heard the news about the exhibition, I remembered her immediately. Anybody can come to the school festival, so I thought the grandma might be there, looking at my photo with that same bright smile. But, I'm pretty sure she won't though, haha." Despite the fact that the elderly rarely visited the school festival, Juho added in order to encourage her, "Who knows? She might come if she has a grandson or a granddaughter." "You think so?" "I'm sure she will." With that, Juho returned to thinking about the title. 'What would be an appropriate name for that frog? Is it right for me to give someone else's work a name?' "Do you have anything? I'm sure you've been thinking about this." "I do have a few." "What are they?" She was hesitant to share them. Maybe she didn't really want to say them out loud. "They're all kind of lame." "It might be of help." With a sigh, she calmly listed the names she had come up with thus far. "Mr. Frog, Frog Neighbor, Hilarious Frog, Odd Frog, Frog Looking into the Distant Mountains. Frog Playground, Frog Choir, Frog World, Frog's Point of View, Frog's are Cool, Frog's Resting Area, Take a Five with a Frog, Just Frog, Ribbit Ribbit Frog." There were simply too many frogs. She snapped, annoyed at Juho's silence, "I told you they were lame!" "I'm at loss for words because of your brilliance, that's all." Juho was sincere. They were not lame by any means. By putting feelings into words, she was simply trying to figure out a focus of her own. "How about you? Were you able to think of anything?" she asked with her eyes sparkling with anticipation. Although Juho had a few ideas, he decided the photo had to be named by the photographer herself. After all, she had been the one to capture a story in the moment. "OK, so, I just thought of this…" "OK, I'm listening." "I think you got this." "What!?" Juho calmly explained to the girl as she furrowed her forehead in annoyance. "The titles that you've just listed show that you have talent. It's just that you're focusing on the frog too much." "Is that supposed to be a compliment?" "A sincere one, at that." The displeasure became apparent in her expression. "Wouldn't it be more rewarding if you named your own photo?" he asked. "I would if I could, but…" She didn't seem confident. After a brief time pondering, she opened her mouth and said, "I really liked the title of your book, 'Grains of Sand.' It felt like it wrapped everything up nicely." "Really?" "Yeah. The sand isn't even the protagonist, but it still sounds like a title." She looked at Juho intently. "I want to name my photo something similar. It wasn't just the title. Your story makes readers think. I thought about the lady all day. The story had already ended, but I found myself thinking about her repeatedly. It was almost like Yun Woo's books. I know that it's a different genre, but I want to take photos like that." Their eyes locked. "That's why I struck up a conversation with you." Juho thought that her dark, yet clear eyes looked like a pair of lenses. "So, I'll do my best as long as you're willing to help." "That's more like it," Juho answered with a smile. "But you don't have to try so hard." "What?" "You've already figured it out." "I did?? When??" "I told you. Grandma, smile, the reason you took and chose that picture. All of these things are outside of a camera's angle." She blinked curiously. "Try stepping out of your angle." "Out of my angle?" "That's right. Out of your photo. You're distracted by the funny looking frog. That's not the only thing you meant to capture, right? So, that's why you're struggling to come up with a title days before the school festival." "But, this is about the frog…" Juho brought the camera up to his eyes, and a small rectangular screen came into view. It was a tad too small to fit a tall banana tree. As he pulled away from the camera, he felt light rushing into his eyes. "So, since I don't know much about photography, I have to ask. Is there a rule that says that a picture of a frog has to have "frog" in its title?" "No." "Then, you can do whatever the heck you want, right?" She remained quiet for a while. In the meantime, Juho took the camera and took a picture of her sitting in a daze. Unfortunately, he was simply not skilled enough to capture the distraught look on her face. The shutter sound echoed throughout the garden. The girl was immersed in thought, with her hands together. "I got it," she said. "What is it?" "The Grandma Smiled," she said with a bright smile. She was filled with confidence that time. Although there was nothing artistic about it, it was simple and honest. It was also a rather decent title for a photo. "I like that!" The carps swam about as the water trickled out of the waterfall into the pond. Tall tropical plants surrounded the place, and the air was warm. The girl might have been looking for the old lady even to that day, but in the end, the person she had found was herself. "Honestly, I kind of regretted not taking a picture of the grandma," she said, looking much more relieved. "I should have included her in the shot with the frog at least." "How come you only took a picture of the frog?" Juho asked. "I ask myself the same question," she answered. "But, I think I'm starting to understand why." "Which is?" She seemed confident, as if she had finally gotten her hands on an answer of her own. "It was for the grandma." Because she had thought that she wanted to take a picture of the old lady, she took a picture of the frog instead. If the old lady were to see the photo, she'd be able to smile throughout the four seasons. "If I took a picture of that grandma, that picture would've stayed in my camera, sound asleep. I'd be the only person looking at it." As she took the camera from Juho's hands, Juho willingly handed it back to her. "I'm sure I would have regretted it." "You regretted it when you took a picture of the frog." "More so than now. I'd have regretted it even more." With that, she stood up from the bench. "Thanks. I'll make sure to include your name next to the title." "That won't be necessary." "You don't have to be polite. It's a gesture of gratitude." "I'm not being polite. I'm turning down your offer." Juho's muttering didn't reach her ears. "OK, then, I'm going to go and print out the title. I'm so glad things worked out! I'll be telling all of my friends about your book. Every single one of them!" "That, I'll gladly accept." "OK, see ya!" Juho watched her from behind as she ran vigorously. Would her photo be reunited with the old lady? "Destiny, huh." Juho contemplated on whether or not to include that word in a story of his in the near future. --- "School festival!" Seo Kwang exclaimed. He seemed rather excited when Juho ran into him on his way to school. Like he said, the day of the festival had finally come. "Somebody's in a good mood today. You're not planning on doing anything though." "C'mon, now. It's a festival! Besides, the fact that we don't have class today is enough to put a smile on my face." "That's true." It didn't take much to make those who had been relieved from duty smile. Though it was cold out, there was excitement in the air. "Oh! It's Sun Hwa." "Seo Kwang," she said as she turned around. She was wearing a hefty backpack. She had said that her class was having a bazaar, and her bag seemed filled with things to be sold that day. "Seems like you've put in quite a bit of work." "We were kind of ambitious, so we had to sacrifice our weekends to prepare for the festival." "Aren't you tired?" "It's still fun," Sun Hwa said briskly. "Where's Bom?" "She's at school. She must have had more preparation left." "Man, you guys are NOT messing around. Our class is barely doing anything." "But, you'll get a lot of visitors. Everyone has their own way of having fun. Make sure to stop by our class. Help us out a little." "So, we're just revenue?" "I can't say that you're not." The three went their separate ways as they reached the first floor.

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123 Chapter 123 - A Frog and The Festival 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "We're open for business!" The festival had officially started. Everyone in class either went out or started working simultaneously. The hallway was flooded with people, some wearing other schools' uniforms and others wearing ordinary clothes. The school would become even more crowded over time. "Hey, let's go!" Seo Kwang tugged at Juho's arm. Since the Literature Club wasn't doing anything for the festival and neither of them had a role in their class' event, they had all the time in the world. "We're stopping by Sun Hwa and Bom's class first, right?" "It's the closest." The two decided to look around the school leisurely. Each of the classrooms was decorated according to its theme. It was obvious that a lot of work had gone into it. The students who promoted their classes with signs shouted all the louder. Though it was noisy, it was quite fun. "It's here." Sun Hwa and Bom's class was decorated with an embroidered sign that read "Flea Market." The tent-like appearance was quite eye-catching. "They did a pretty good job." "I know." Juho and Seo Kwang went into the classroom. There were stacks of items brought by each of the students. Quite a few people were looking around. Then, Juho saw Bom standing by the cash register. "Hey!" "Hey, guys!" she greeted them happily amid the business. Her hair was braided into two braids, giving her a cartoon-like appearance. "Everyone's wearing the same hairdo." "Yeah. Isn't it clever? The boys decided to wear a hat." Everyone involved in helping out was dressed accordingly. The girls braided their hairs while the boys wore hats. It was a dress code of sorts. "You're buying something, right?" "Are you trying to have us do business with you?" "No way. Feel free to look around. Sun Hwa's over there," Bom said with a smile. At that moment, she had to interact with an approaching student. Seeing how busy she was, Juho and Seo Kwang moved on to Sun Hwa. "Oh, hey! You're here!" she said as she waved her hand, her braided hair fluttering with it. Her hair had looked normal that morning. "How's business?" "Not bad. I told you it'd work." The classroom was rather crowded, even at a glance, and she seemed excited. While crouching, Seo Kwang examined the items on display. Dolls, toy knives, clothes, jewelry, bowls, cups. There were all sorts of goods. There were also larger items, such as a chair or oversized stuffed animals in the corner of the classroom. "What's that chair for?" "It's an endorsement from the parents. It's new." "Who would buy something like that?" Though it looked comfortable, it was questionable if people would actually buy it. "If no one buys it, we can always return it to the person who brought it." "That sounds tiring." "Well, it gives presence to the place." While Sun Hwa explained things about the chair, a voice sounded from behind, "So, this is where the Literature Club is." "Hi, Mr. Moon! Oh! Mr. James, you're here too!" The two came to visit together, and Mr. Moon's eyes fixed on the chair. "What brings you here? Are you here to see us?" "No, I saw the chair in passing. It's for sale, right? How much is it?" He expressed interest in buying the chair. Despite Mr. Moon's brutally honest answer, a bright smile spread across Sun Hwa's face. At that moment, Seo Kwang interjected, "They don't do delivery." "Don't you worry. It's for the science room. I was thinking about getting something more comfortable." "For yourself?" "You can always get your own." Without hesitation, he reached for the chair. All eyes were on Mr. Moon as he spent his money boldly. Some chuckled while others cheered, and it was a major boost in their sales. "Are you getting anything?" Juho asked James in English. "I'm not sure. I feel like I should buy something while I'm here," James answered in English and looked around. With a sincere hope of success for his friends, Juho suggested various items that were being sold, "How about that tea set over there? Tea would be a lot easier to make." "I have enough of tea sets. I got them as gifts." "How about a book? This is a comic book, so it shouldn't be too difficult to read. It'll help with your Korean too." "That seems better… Oh! That stuffed giraffe has a really long neck!" he said as he went closer to get a better look. In the end, he joined Mr. Moon with a set of comic books in one hand and a small stuffed giraffe in the other. Staring in their direction from the cash register, Bom received their payment hastily. As he stepped back with a satisfied smile on his face, Juho felt piercing gazes coming from behind him. When he turned around, he saw Sun Hwa and Seo Kwang standing shoulder to shoulder, staring daggers at him. "I really sold him on the comic books." Sun Hwa furrowed her forehead at his calm attitude. "First, you create a new language, and now you're speaking fluent English as if the former wasn't enough. You really know everything there is to know about writing, don't you? How many languages do you speak, like ten?" "Twenty-three, give or take." "... Am I supposed to believe that? So annoying!" "I know!" Seo Kwang agreed strongly, picking up a notebook. "I can't stand it whenever he's reading something written in another language. I want to be able to do that! I'm going to use this to learn words." "That doesn't sound very innocent." "Don't care!" Listening to the two conversing, Juho too picked up a notepad. His old one was nearly used up. While telling him the price, Sun Hwa suggested they get chicken skewers on their way out. "Is it good?" "Don't know. I haven't tried it." "At least you're honest." In the end, Juho and Seo Kwang left the classroom, each with a chicken skewer in their hand. "We're going to Baron's class next, right?" "He said his class chose a restaurant theme. They were making toast, weren't they?" "I can probably eat this skewer in one bite," Seo Kwang said. Juho agreed. It had been a while since the last time he had had a chicken skewer. As he took a bite, its sweet and savory flavor filled his mouth. "Not bad." "I feel like it tastes even better at school, doesn't it?" The festival had a magical effect on food. It transformed the most ordinary food into a delicacy. Like Seo Kwang said, it didn't take long for them to finish their skewers. "It's been a while." "We came here nearly every day at one point." "We sure did." They had been the victims of a peculiar accusation at one point. Feeling mildly nostalgic, Juho stepped into the classroom. Baron was sitting in the corner. With other students selling food, it didn't seem like he was needed immediately. "Baron!" "Hey." "Pff! What's with your apron?!" It was bright red, and one wouldn't have been able to tell if it had Kimchi broth splashed all over. Everyone else in the class seemed to be wearing ordinary aprons. "This is the only apron I could find at home." "It suits you." "I know," Baron said. There was a faint smile on his face. "You're each getting a toast, right?" "Of course!" At that moment, a girl approached Baron from behind. "Hey, Baron? I'm running low on change, could you go get me some?" "Sure." Juho knew who that was, Sponge-Cake Girl. They seemed rather candid in their conversation. Upon locking eyes with her, Juho exchanged a brief greeting. "Well, that's that. Enjoy your toast." Baron walked out of the classroom with the apron still on him. Going into the kitchen surrounded by desks, the Sponge-Cake Girl got started on the toasts. Seo Kwang and Juho took a seat, and each ordered a carton of milk and a piece of toast. From spicy to chocolate filled, there was quite an array of items in the menu. While Juho ordered an ordinary ham and cheese, Seo Kwang made an adventurous decision to order the spicy option. "Stuff like that will ruin your stomach." "Hey, man! Don't you underestimate my stomach," Seo Kwang said confidently. However, he ran out of the classroom in no time after chugging three cartons of milk. "Spicy!" While his friend was gasping for breath, there was nothing Juho could do to help him in his suffering. "I guess your stomach is a lot stronger than your tongue." Murmuring and looking around anxiously, Seo Kwang rushed into the restroom. It was the consequence of overestimating his stomach. Expecting him to take a while, Juho sat himself on a chair in the hallway next to other visitors. At that moment, his pocket vibrated. It was a text message from Sung Pil. "Long time no hear!" He was visiting for the school festival. Without hesitation, Juho gave him a call. "Hello," Sung Pil answered in his distinct tone. When asked where he was, Sung Pil answered that he was in the school library. "What are you doing in the library? Aren't you visiting for the festival?" "I wanted to read your story." Juho blinked and thought, 'Did I ever tell him about my short story?' While he was busy retracing his memory, Sung Pil said, "I saw that you had an interview. You really sounded like an author." Again, Juho had no recollection of telling him about the interview, and Sung Pil went to the library after finding about it. "Were you at the Newspaper Club?" "No. They were passing out newspapers at the entrance." Juho immediately pictured the monkey handing out newspapers. "I see, so you read about it, huh? How do you like short story?" "I'm yet to read it. I'm still waiting in line." "In line?" "Yes. The person in front of me is taking a while, especially with yours." In terms of length, Juho's story was the shortest of the three. Yet, the fact that it took time to read showed just how intently it was being read. Juho felt grateful to the mysterious reader. "I see that you're not the only person going to the library in the middle of a school festival." "The interview really got me interested. It seems like people come here to take a breather too." Just as Juho was sitting in the hallway, there were also chairs in the library. Because it was a quiet place filled with books, it was a rather suitable resting area. "Do you need a guide?" "It's OK. I'm sure you're busy. I'm just going to read 'Grains of Sand' before I go." "Remind me, why are you here?" "I'm visiting," Sung Pil gave him an obvious answer. Juho was used to it by then. Seeing Seo Kwang walking out of the restroom while drenched in sweat, Juho said goodbye to Sung Pil on the phone. "Well, have fun." "Will do." After hanging up, Juho walked toward Seo Kwang. He seemed like he had just washed his face. Thankfully, he seemed to feel a little better. "I'm going to recommend that to Sun Hwa," Seo Kwang said as he rubbed his belly. "C'mon now. Don't be that guy." "It's a flavor that I couldn't keep to myself," he murmured, and asked, "Is there anywhere else we can go?" He still intended on enjoying the day. Pondering for a brief moment, Juho pointed toward the stairs. There was some unintended business upstairs, and Seo Kwang quietly followed him. When they arrived, there was no one around. It was a stark contrast to the floor under it. "Are people not coming up here at all?" "I guess not. No one's here." "Well, I guess it makes sense considering that it's almost entirely an exhibition." Seo Kwang looked around. There was a music room, where the Art Club was having an exhibition. It looked like an art-museum. Walking past the music room, they reached yet another room. "The Photography Club? So this is where they're having their exhibition," Seo Kwang said as he looked around. "Are we here to look at photos?" "Yep." Juho walked toward the photos about the size of a B4 sheet of paper over a black background. Each of them was labeled with title and the photographer's name and picture. The place was quiet and secluded. Even the excited clamoring from the floor beneath it couldn't penetrate the silence in that room. His footsteps echoed throughout the room with his every step. "Haha! This one's funny. Look at the frog." Having walked ahead, Seo Kwang called for Juho, who realized that his friend had found the photo he'd been looking for. "I guess it makes sense that it made an old lady smile," Seo Kwang said with his eyes fixed on the title. That was the moment when it really shone, moving people's hearts. "But why is your name here?" "My name?" Seo Kwang pointed at the title. Underneath it, was the name of the girl with the camera and Juho's name in parenthesis next to it, written in a slightly smaller point. "Title helper: Juho Woo." "Were you a title helper? What is that?" Seo Kwang asked. Juho must have taken on the responsibility without even knowing. It was the girl's way of thanking him. "So, you're the one who came up with the title, huh? I get it now." "No, I'm not." "You're not? Then, what's with 'title helper?'" he asked again. Juho stared at the photo intently for a brief time. He became curious about whether the old lady got around to seeing the photo and smiled cheerfully. "I don't know." Only the frog would know. --- While Seo Kwang ran off to the restroom for the second time, Juho sat on the stairs alone. The crowded hallway came into view. There were even more people than earlier. Dark tent-like decorations mingled harmoniously with bright lights. Students in peculiar costumes or people in ordinary clothes were also visible. Juho rested his exhausted eyes. As he was leaning his head on the rail, he felt it vibrate. Slow, yet light footsteps sounded throughout the stairway. They were unhurried. By the time the footsteps completely faded away, Juho took out his new notepad. After all, a girl who believed in destiny was bound to have a destiny-like encounter.

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124 Chapter 124 - Twisting the Bird’s Neck 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Juho Woo!" As soon as he opened the door to the cafe, Juho looked around to see who was shouting his name. Thankfully, there were no other customers besides Seo Kwang's mother, who was happily waving her hand. The cafe was filled with warmth and the subtle fragrance of coffee. Having just come inside, cold air wafted from Juho. "Hey, a word?" "Hold on. Let's order first." It wasn't until Juho calmed his friend down and ordered a warm cup of herbal tea that he was ready to talk. Seo Kwang sat at a table far enough for the conversation not to be audible from the cashier. Wearing an excited look on his face, he moved his lips quickly and said, "Congrats, buddy!" Puzzled, Juho tilted his head. "What are you talking about?" "What do you mean, what do I mean!?" Appalled by Juho's cluelessness, Seo Kwang took the phone in his hand and held it right up against Juho's face. "Top Ten!" Though Juho couldn't make anything out from being too close to the screen, he immediately caught on. Seo Kwang was referring to the bestseller rankings. Seo Kwang was making a big fuss while Juho chuckled light-heartedly having already been informed by Jang Mi the night before. "You're within the top ten in the genre novels category! This is a victory!" Being conscious of his surroundings, Seo Kwang emphasized his words rather than raising his voice. "But I was never competing for anything." Seo Kwang glared at Juho and his lukewarm response. "No! This is a victory, my friend. A victory! You survived in this cruel world where only the strong survive and made it right to the top! People are finally starting to recognize you for your skills! A rookie!" Suddenly, he looked behind and told Juho in a whisper, "Yun Woo, the man who knows no failure." Juho had gotten used to the name "Yun Woo" coming out of his friends' mouth. Seo Kwang, too, wasn't awkward about saying the name anymore. By the time Juho and his friends became more familiar with the name "Yun Woo," the readers began to respond to 'The Language of God.' The publishing company's active marketing was really starting to pay off. The sales rose steadily over time, and the book had eventually become a bestseller. "You mean Won Yi." Correcting his friend in a whisper, Juho studied the expression on his friend's face. They were meeting for the first time since the winter break, and Seo Kwang was doing the same. "How's your progress with English?" "I've been shocking myself. I'm like a sponge, absorbing everything I'm learning," Seo said proudly. "That's good to hear," Juho said as he took some of the cookies brought out by Seo Kwang's mother. They had a nice, pleasant snap to them. "Soon, I'm going to read every single book written in English in our store. You just wait." It was a rather ambitious goal. "When you reach a point where you can read books, I'll give you a gift." "Really?!" "Yep. Whichever book and however many you want." After a brief time pondering it, Seo Kwang shook his head. "Nah! One will do." "That's a surprise. I thought you'd be a bit more enthusiastic than that. So, which book?" "Yours," Seo Kwang said as he reached for the cookies. "I'm going to translate it." Chewing the cookie in his mouth, he joked about how valuable the book would be, and that he would keep the money he got from selling the book as an emergency fund. Juho gave his friend permission willingly. "A bunch of articles have been coming up. Hahaha! Oh, man! Look at this one. 'The God of Genre Novels.'" Seo Kwang laughed out loud while looking at the screen. He was poking fun at Juho. As usual, the news was filled with articles with embarrassing titles. "Apparently, they believe that you're going to represent the fantasy novels of Korea." "Well, it'd be achievable." "It says you're the 'Rising Sun.'" "That's flattering." "It also says you're writing a reverse mythology." "That is true." A displeased look appeared on Seo Kwang's face as Juho remained unfazed. "Shameless," he muttered as he looked at his phone's screen. "Who wrote this article anyway? It's filled with nothing but compliments." Upon scrolling down the page, the name of the reporter came into view. "Myung Sil Oh? The way I see it, she's a fan. I can just feel it." "She's a reporter who's doing her job: delivering objective information." "So, you're admitting that you're 'The God of Genre Novels?'" Juho shrugged, and Seo Kwang chuckled. "So, are you content with this?" 'The Language of God' became a bestseller. Aside from writing the book, there was nothing else Juho had done. Without the readers and the publishing company, the results would look entirely different. The book ranked at number ten in the bestsellers' list. "Number 1 was 'The Sound of Wailing.'" Seo Kwang nodded. At the top of the list was Yun Woo's sophomore title, 'The Sound of Wailing.' It was just as Dong Baek had predicted. A bomb was at the end of a fuse, and now, the fuse would burn up even quicker. "Will Won Yi be able to surpass Yun Woo? Will it remain a secret that they're the same person?" "I doubt it," Seo Kwang said as he waved his hand in denial. "You never planned on keeping it a secret from the start. It was pretty apparent in some places that Yun Woo wrote it. If you really wanted to hide your identity, you'd have written it in a different style." He was right. If Juho really wanted to keep Won Yi's identity a secret and make sure that not a single person would recognize him, he would have written it in an entirely different style that was yet to exist in the world. But, Juho didn't do that. He did intend on keeping Won Yi's identity hidden. However, Yun Woo's colorful style suited the book quite well. He wanted to portray the grandness of the world he had created. The reason why he published under a different alias was to be free from Yun Woo's shadow. He believed using another name would be enough to accomplish that. "I'm sure there are people who already suspect it, especially the experts." Juho laughed at the word "expert." "I don't think that's entirely true. Using a different name has a lot more of an impact than it sounds. Once you're biased, it becomes impossible to think flexibly. The word "expert" tends to lure people into a trap from time to time." Because Seo Kwang was himself, he had been able to relate with Juho, Yun Woo and Won Yi simultaneously. Unfortunately, that wouldn't be the case for other people. Most people would judge an author and their work in their own way and reach a conclusion of their own. There was no guarantee that those conclusions would be close to the truth. "Shouldn't you be more worried?" "There's no reason to. I already got what I wanted." "What was it that you wanted? Money?" "Did I not tell you about my royalties?" "Then, what was it?" Juho looked at the phone screen in Seo Kwang's hand. Words were still going around. The book making the bestseller's list would work as leverage. Even without the name Yun Woo, the book sold at an incredible rate. People started to recognize and think about the author, Won Yi Young. "Let's call it... proof of freedom." "I don't get you sometimes, man…" Seo Kwang muttered as Juho sipped his warm herbal tea. --- "Goodnight!" "Take care, Mr. Ju." "Drive safely!" Sang Young let out a heavy sigh as the crew and actors went their separate ways. He was facing a challenge in the filming process. From the scenario to the actors, everything was in order. There was no trouble with the site, and the set had been carefully examined to look as similar to how it was portrayed in the book as possible. He looked at the set that was made to look like the inside of Yun's house. In it, stood an actor wearing an expression as gloomy as Sang Young's. "Myung Joo," Sang Young called for the actor, and the actor approached the director. Being in his mid-thirties, he was a no-name actor who had mostly been active in supporting roles. He was also the actor who Sang Young had handpicked for the role of Yun's older brother. "I loved the acting," Sang Young said sincerely. The actor's performance was more than satisfactory to him. "But I'm not happy with what I'm seeing for some reason. Why?" Sang Young asked the actor and himself simultaneously. Why wasn't he satisfied with that particular scene? "Mrs. Choi," he called for the writer at a time most people had left the set. "Yes, Mr. Ju?" she answered as she placed her hand on his shoulder. Sang Young smiled at his wife's lovely sounding voice, but the smile quickly faded away. He remembered the situation he was in. "What do we need to change?" the actor asked in a pleasant voice. His voice stood out to Sang Young from when they first met. It was proof that he was properly trained in vocalization. His clear enunciation was also a big plus. Myung Joo was determined. He was ready to take on any challenges thrown his way. His performance was not an issue, and he worked well with veteran actors with substantial amount of experience. "You did great, Myung Joo. I think the problem here is our interpretation of the book," the writer said with the script in her hand. "After all, there isn't a whole lot of information about the older brother in the book." Sang Young agreed. He was a character who carried weight, and Sang Young had fallen in love with the character. "We did the best we could up to this point, and there hasn't been any issues. It wouldn't have been odd if even Mr. Ju were to give an 'OK.'" Before Sang Young got to explain things, the writer beat him to it. "But something doesn't feel right, does it?" She had also been watching the filming process, probably feeling the same way about the actor as the director. After all, she was the person who read and analyzed the original more than anyone. "This scene is important. We have to be really intentional here." It was the the scene where the brother twisted a bird's neck. It wasn't about him overcoming or neglecting his fear. Rather, it was the very expression of it. It revealed the character's personality. In other words, he was darkness itself. In a movie where light got engulfed by the dark, the dark had to be at its most prominent. That was the reason why Sang Young paid particular attention to the scene. "So, am I supposed to be infuriated in this scene?" Myung Joo asked. He was holding his ragged script in his hand, open to the page containing the scene they were supposed to have filmed that day. It was the climactic scene where the character's emotions reached their peak. "You're killing a bird here…" Sang Young said. Which meant… "... So, yes, you should be." At the director's answer, the actor dropped his head. It was obvious that he was having trouble accepting it. The writer asked, "What's the matter?" Despite the nervous look on his face, he stood his ground and spoke up. The writer quietly listened without trying to comfort him. "Something's not right." "My script?" "Oh, no! It's my acting," the actor denied. Sang Young loved that his writer wife had a sense of humor that shone through from time to time. She laughed as she pulled up her glasses. "Go ahead." After contemplating for some time, Myung Joo opened his mouth and asked, "May I act it out?" "Sure, I think that'd be more efficient." Together, Sang Young and his writer wife watched the actor's performance as he acted out the script. He raged and then killed the bird. His performance stood out because of his big motions and clearly enunciated lines. His expressions were stable. Watching the performance, Sang Young pictured the scene in his head. The screen shook. First, a bird came into view, then Yun and his brother. The camera followed the actor. There were hardly any words. The actions pushed the story forward. After killing the bird, the brother became frightened, at first, but soon he became infuriated. Rather than cutting the scene into multiple segments, Sang Young imagined the scene in one long cut. The character left the view of the camera, all without any explanation. The audience was immersed in the scene filled with rough breathing, feathers, and the distorted expression on the characters' faces. As the actor pushed on, his script came into Sang Young's view. There were notes all over the place. It was proof that he had studied it meticulously. "Hold on." The performance stopped abruptly. Sang Young looked at his script, replaying the actor's question from earlier. Would rage really be the appropriate emotion for that scene?" "Do you have the book on you?" "Yes," the writer said with the book already open in her hands. The pages were filled with lines, which gave it a raggedy look. She was a quick thinker. Sang Young read the book over her shoulders. Unlike the rest of the book, Yun Woo's colorful style was kept to a minimum in that particular scene. Because of that, the readers were able to handle the explosive emotions being portrayed in the book in safety. "It's intense. I feel something welling up from within everytime I read it." "Right." The existence of rage was apparent in that scene. Sang Young asked himself carefully, 'Who's raging here? Yun or his brother? Or is it the dead bird? No. It's me. I'm infuriated with myself.' "Do you think the brother's really angry here?" Sang Young murmured. "He throws the dead bird away. As if he's finally lost it," the writer answered. "... I get a feeling that something's missing here." "What's missing?" Sang Young couldn't answer her question.

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125 Chapter 125 - Twisting the Bird’s Neck 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl The sound of water filled the bathroom. The water from the showerhead flowed into the drain as it trickled down Sang Young's body. After washing his hair, he washed his body with a sweet-scented body wash. After walking out of the shower, he took the moveable shower head and sprayed the mirror with water. The foggy surface of the mirror cleared up at once, and while checking his face on the mirror, he hummed cheerfully. He seemed much livelier. After looking at the mirror for some time, he stepped out of the bathroom. "Ugh! I told you to dry yourself off in the bathroom!" his wife, Soo Jung, scolded him. "Hehe. It's been a while since I've been home. Sorry, hon." With that, Sang Young wiped the water off his body in a hurry, changed into his comfortable clothes, and he went to the table to join his wife for dinner. Impressed by the plentiful food, he walked over to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of soju. "Are you sure that's a good idea? You're traveling tomorrow." "Just one glass. I gotta have a glass when there's a table full of mouth-watering foods." "Then, I'd like one too." "Hehe. That's my wife." Humming cheerfully, Sang Young took out a pair of glasses from the kitchen and poured the soju into them. "Ah! That's refreshing." "Here, sir. Have some food." "Yes, ma'am." There were pieces of seasoned squid at the end of the chopsticks in Soo Jung's hand. With his mouth open wide, Sang Young ate what his wife had offered. "This is good!" "Right? I bought some when we went down to my parents' place." The saltiness made it a perfect pair with their drinks. The two ate and conversed about various things. With her scripts on streak of success, Soo Jung was on the rise as a writer. Between a director and a writer, the conversation was always riddled with movies. "Are there a lot of actors asking you about Yun Woo?" "Yeah. I haven't given them anything though." A large number of renowned actors had been cast for the movie, all sharing in the charm of the original book. "I like Myung Joo," Soo Jung said as she took a sip from her glass. Sang Young agreed. A polite, yet confident person, he didn't have much to show for in terms of appearance or career as an actor. He was in his mid-thirties when he auditioned for the role of Yun's brother in Sang Young's film adaptation of 'Trace of a Bird.' Thorough and well-prepared, he exuded eagerness. However, that wasn't what had moved Sang Young to cast him. There were countless actors and actresses who were just as eager, but Myung Joo had one thing that set him apart from his colleagues. "Especially his eyes." It was his eyes. He was the only actor who had portrayed Yun's brother with such eyes. Sang Young couldn't help but be drawn to him. "Anyway… what do we do, hon?" Sang Young asked as he pulled out the script. He still hadn't reached a clear answer since that day on the set. Feeling frustrated, he poured the rest of the soju into his mouth. Soo Jung, too, took a copy of the script and read it carefully. When faced with his innate fear, Yun's brother expressed it through anger. He killed the bird. He was an extremely violent character who wouldn't hesitate to take another life in order to justify his feelings. Interpreting the character as such, Soo Jung wrote the script accordingly. "Yun Woo said that he wouldn't look at the script, right?" "Yep." Sang Young felt somewhat frustrated. On the other hand, Soo Jung was confident that she could change Yun Woo's mind, which also came from her confidence toward her script. Unfortunately, Yun Woo refused to even look at it. Studying the look on his wife's face, Sang Young said cautiously, "He's like that. He's far from ordinary." She laughed as she pulled up her glasses. "I guess that's the kind of person it takes to write a book like that. Yun Woo's different. Not only did he completely neglect all of the other directors who are more established, but he also willingly agreed to talk to you. On top of that, he gave you permission to make a film adaptation of his book. It's baffling. One with a simple desire for success wouldn't do such a thing. That is what sets Yun Woo apart. "Think about it. How do you hand the copyright over to the director solely on his opinion? Let alone, a lesser-known director?" "Hon, that's kind of hurtful." Soo Jung chugged her drink. Looking in her direction, Sang Young asked, "What did you mean when you said he was "different?" As in… he's not after success?" "I'm sure he wants to be successful, and is probably just as afraid of failure as every other author. What's different about him are his standards." With that, Sang Young remembered his conversation with Juho. "He asked if I'd be able to surpass his book. I've never heard anybody say something like that." "He meant it, right?" "He did. It sounded like he was asking me to impress him." Soo Jung poured herself another glass of Soju. Yun Woo was not after a conventionally understood success, and there was no way to know what he was really after. While curious, there was something else that she really wanted to know. "So, the brother has to be different too then," she said as she chugged her drink. "We need to talk to Yun Woo." Seeing her eyes burning with passion, Sang Young felt like he was falling in love with her all over again. "Would that work though?" Sang Young set his feelings aside and thought about Juho. He had been asking him numerous questions and fighting for answers. His efforts were in vain for the most part, however… "Didn't you say he's a little more generous when you ask him about the brother?" While Juho spoke sparingly most of the times, but there were times when he loosened up slightly, and that was whenever he was asked about Yun's brother. Though he never gave a direct answer, he spoke relatively more than usual. There was potential. As Sang Young hesitated with his phone in his hand, Soo Jung said, "Hon, whether or not it works out, bring it up at least. If it doesn't work out, then it doesn't." With the encouragement of his wife, he tapped the call button his phone, and exclaimed cheerfully as Juho agreed to meet with him unlike what he had expected. --- "Are you going out?" "Yes." "You're eating out, right?" "Yes." "It's cold out, so make sure to bundle up. Wear a scarf." "It's OK." "Listen to me. I don't want you to be shivering in the cold." In the end, Juho gave in and went back into his room and wrapped his scarf around his neck. Upon stepping out through the door, he realized that it had been wise to have listened to his mother. It was rather cold out. A cold breeze blew as he made his way to the meeting spot. His breath was visible. Dry tree branches moved about lifelessly, while people went on their ways with their shoulders hunched from the cold. As Juho kept on watching the scenery, a car became visible in the distance. In it, there was a person waving at him. "How've you been?" It was Sang Young, waving his hefty hands. While they'd talked over the phone numerous times, it had been a while since they met in person. Exchanging brief greetings, Juho got in the car, where Sang Young kept himself warm. Juho took off his scarf. Not too long after, he cracked the window open to let the air through. "So, the writer and one of the actors are going to be there?" "Yeah. The script writer and the actor who's playing the brother. Just those two." "Is the brother becoming an issue?" "He sure is." Yun's brother was the most unique character in 'Trace of a Bird.' His character was more than Juho could've handled as a young author in the past. When Juho thought back on creating a character like that, he couldn't help but smile bitterly for creating something that was more than he could deal with. "I was surprised by how quickly you said yes." "We are talking about Yun's brother here." When talking about the character, Juho couldn't help himself. The words jumped right out of his mouth. That came from his regret of letting go of the character too soon. He was much better equipped as an author now, and though Sang Young had no clue about what was running through Juho's mind, he rejoiced in the possibility of finding some clues. "I won't say much," Juho said quietly. "Don't worry. We're only stuck in one particular place. That's where Myung Joo has a question for you." "You mean the actor?" "Yeah. I saw his performance, and then I came to realize that something didn't add up. Thanks to him, I've realized that my interpretation was wrong." Juho's body leaned to the left as the car turned right, "You should just hear him in person. We're on our way to a high-end restaurant." "We could've met at a cafe." "Oh, no, no! We can't do that! Besides, I've been meaning to treat you to a meal." "What are they like?" Juho asked as he rolled down the window a little more. As if he had been waiting, Sang Young began to talk about his beloved, "My wife is a lovely person. She's also one of the most sought-after screenwriters in Chungmuro. She's been doing especially well as of late, like a swan spreading its wings open. Bold and confident, yet beautiful. Would you like to see a picture?" "It's OK. We'll meet soon enough," Juho respectfully declined as Sang Young was about to reach for his phone. Then, he added in a much calmer voice, "And then there's Myung Joo Mu. He's never seen the light of day, but he's quite experienced. He's one of the most determined actors I know. We cast him through auditions, so you won't have to worry about his acting. What really sets him apart though, are his eyes." "His eyes?" "That's right. He knows how to express emotion through his eyes. He's a character. Just the one I've been looking for." Myung Joo was an actor who performed according to Sang Young's direction. Though he wouldn't be getting much screen time, his presence had a lasting impact. He was the perfect fit for the role. "I'm excited." "We chose these people specifically so that we can surpass your work. You should be!" Juho laughed cheerfully at that. Sang Young had the habit of making direct remarks. It was for that reason that Juho had been able to hand the rights over to him with confidence. After about thirty minutes, they arrived at a Japanese restaurant. As they entered, they saw a series of rooms lined up on either side of the hallway. A place like that would provide more than enough privacy for discussing any sensitive matters. "The other two are already here, waiting for us. Shall we?" When Sang Young gave his name, the usher led them to a room located further in. As Juho followed him, a series of dazzling works of pottery and flowers came into view. "I'm curious about the face they will make when they see you." "Probably not all that excited." "Nah, they'll be blown away." "Am I like an alien to them?" "I guess in the sense that your identity is unclear." As they conversed on the way, the usher stopped at a tatami room and gently opened the sliding door. "Enjoy your meal," the usher said calmly. Juho waited until Sang Young went into the room, as his large figure blocked the view and made it difficult to make out the interior. As he went in, the first thing that came into view was a large table decorated with a beautiful pink flower. "Oh!" As he looked toward the source of the sound, he saw a tall, lanky man with a small head. His mouth was slightly open. The sound had come from him. His eyes shook with astonishment, excitement, anticipation, and a slight sense of tension. Strong emotions were visible in the man's eyes, and Juho understood immediately what Sang Young had meant on their way to the restaurant. "Hello." "Hello!" A woman stood up and greeted Juho as he slowly made his way into the room. She was rather skinny. Her glasses were falling off as she bowed. "Hello," Juho returned the greeting. "Yun Woo." With that, the woman laughed cheerfully. She was rather pretty. Again, Juho understood Sang Young's words at once. "Soo Jung Choi. I'm the writer who turned your book into a script. It's an honor to meet you." "I'm honored to meet you too, ma'am," Juho said with a smile. Soo Jung was taken aback by Juho's vibe. He was much calmer and more mature than she had imagined him to be. "I heard about you through Mr. Ju here, but I wasn't expecting you to be this mature." "Is that so?" After exchanging brief greetings with Myung Joo, Juho took his seat. The meal began as soon as the table was filled with delicious dishes. Like any high-end restaurant, every bite was as delicate as the first. "I've enjoyed your book, 'The Sound of Wailing,'" Soo Jung said.

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126 Chapter 126 - Twisting the Bird’s Neck 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "It was especially shocking when the mother jumped off the building." She was referring to the ending scene in 'The Sound of Wailing.' The mother had left her life behind in order to reunite with her baby. "It was quite detailed and realistic, wasn't it?" "That's not all there was to it. That scene was the pivotal point in the book. It hit hard with reality in a story that had been mostly emotional," Soo Jung added scoldingly at Sang Young's light-hearted remarks. "'The Sound of Wailing' is not a book that is nice and friendly by any means. It heads toward destruction full throttle, and content like that tends to be heavy and burdensome. Yet, 'The Sound of Wailing' is a little different. Rather than taking others' burdens, it makes the readers reflect on themselves. That's how the readers are able to get into the book without feeling wronged or ashamed." Sang Young and Myung Joo nodded quietly. "I did pay particular attention to that scene. I'm relieved to hear that the message got across," Juho said calmly. While eating, the four continued in their conversation about writing. Like any writer, Soo Jung was catching the most minute of details in Juho's work. It was obvious that she had carefully studied the flow, the chemistry between characters, the meaning of their dialogues and the properties of the sentences. Juho was quite impressed by her. "Wow, it seems like you catch every little detail there is when you read. That's amazing!" She waved her hand in denial. "I usually don't go that deep with other books. I just thought that I should be familiar with your works as I was writing the script for the movie." With that, she took something out of her bag. It was a book. "I have four more of these raggedy books at home," she said proudly and handed the book over to Juho. A bird on a white background. It was 'Trace of a Bird.' Upon opening it, Juho discovered that the entire book was filled with her notes, giving it a textbook-like appearance. That gave him an idea of how much time and intention she had put into writing the script. "Now that I'm looking at something like that, I'm starting to get more curious about the script." "Then, I'd be more than glad to help. I happen to have it on me. Would you like to take a look?" She moved her hand as if she had been ready to reach for the bag at any minute. However, Juho respectfully declined. "No, thank you. It'll take away from the experience when I watch the movie," he said as he returned the book to Soo Jung. After getting the book back, she remained quiet for a little while. She was being more cautious. As Juho waited patiently for her, she carefully brought up the question that had been burning in her mind. "I heard that you had made it a condition that we surpass the original." "I'd say it's more of a wish than a condition." "You really are different, Mr. Woo," Soo Jung said as she chuckled light-heartedly. "Am I?" "Yes. If I were in your position, I'd go after wealth and fame. That's the condition for success." "That is true." She felt relieved that Juho was still smiling. Depending on the person, it could have been a sensitive subject to discuss. Also, there was a sense of affirmation in Juho's answer. "Frankly, I'm not any different." Juho believed that he was no different from any others, and a perplexed look appeared on the couple's faces. "Are you saying that surpassing the original equates to more benefit?" "Wait. You're not talking about some sort of bigger picture here, are you? Like the book selling more once the movie comes out, bringing wealth and fame?" Juho shook his head. "Not at all. Most people want wealth for their livelihood: to live just a bit more comfortably. Right?" "Right." "I'm exactly the same..." Her light eyes blinked rapidly behind her glasses. Looking at her eyes, Juho reminisced about the days when he had had to survive through the winter without money or fame. He had starved and shivered in the cold. Yet, he had lived on despite the misery and discomfort. Those days had been filled with tears and laughter. He had been incapacitated by the alcoholism. He hadn't been able to feel anything. He had vomited stomach acid instead of his emotions. His organs no longer functioned properly due to the alcohol. He had hallucinated often. Unfortunately, his own hands had prevented him from putting that experience into writing as they shook uncontrollably. Even a short sentence had proven to be a challenge. It had been no different from death. "... and I'll keep writing." Now, he wrote freely, just as his young self in the past. "I want to be moved by a movie that surpasses my work. When that happens, I'm certain that I'll be able to write something even better than what I've written so far." "In that case, wouldn't you have to work with a better director?" "Who would that be?" Soo Jung remained silent. She couldn't answer. Could a famous director who was widely recognized be considered to be a better director? If not, an award-winning, perhaps? "I'm confident that I'm working with the best director there is." Juho thought back to the day when Sang Young came to meet him at the publishing company. Sang Young had been confident, and that had been apparent in his words. It had been possible that he had been making empty promises, but he hadn't let up in that moment at least. Such a person had a lot to offer. "The kind of success I'm after isn't always found in results. Besides, I received something from Mr. Ju." "You did?" "The mother's cigarette in 'The Sound of Wailing.' That was yours." "Eh?" "Well, I was able to write a decent book, thanks to you, so I'd say I'm halfway from reaching my goal." While Sang Young sat there with a perplexed look, Juho added, "So, I look forward to working with you for the next half of that journey." Silenced filled the room, and Soo Jung was taken aback by Juho's attitude. He sounded as if his life depended on writing. It was an obsession—an obsession toward success. While he was after something that was far from conventional, the core of it was exactly the same as of any human being: to live. People couldn't survive without money or acknowledgement from others. Yet… "If I don't write, I start to fall apart from within." The room was filled by Juho's laughter. Though it might have sounded like he was joking light-heartedly, Soo Jung realized the sincerity behind his words. "This is great!" Juho said as he brought a piece of sashimi up to his mouth. --- The table was filled with yet another series of dishes. They had been conversing for some time. Juho and Soo Jung spoke a similar language, and she knew how to put the other person in high spirits. "I've transcribed Mr. Lim's book once as well. It was an assignment." "An assignment?" "Yes, I was in college. This was ages ago. That was my first time transcribing, and it really was an experience. You almost feel closer to the book." Juho agreed enthusiastically. "It feels like you're being probed from within." "That's a great analogy!" Juho sensed that they were about to get to the main point. While chewing his food, he looked at the man sitting on the other side of the table—a man of few words. While he acted accordingly, he never tried to plug himself in hastily. He seemed to be familiar with meetings like that. When the conversation between Juho and Soo Jung came to a brief pause, the man opened his mouth and said candidly, "May I ask you a question?" He had a pleasant voice that was both low and resonating. Juho had heard about how important clear enunciation was in acting. With his properly trained vocalization and expressive eyes, he seemed to possess every quality of an actor. "Of course." "It's about Yun's brother." He didn't beat around the bush. Juho had been previously informed that he had been the first person to ask about the brother. "As long as it's a question that I can answer, I'll answer to the best of my ability." "Be generous with him, will ya?" the director said to Juho in a whisper, but Juho ignored it light-heartedly. "Mrs. Choi included the smallest of details in her script, so I can understand what kind of emotions Mr. Ju is looking for. I can picture the scenes from just reading it, and it wouldn't be strange to say that that's where my curiosity comes from." The clear interpretation in the script challenged the actor's preconceived image of the character, but there was one thing that didn't make sense. Maybe it would be more accurate to say that it was different. That very thing was being reflected in the actor's performance. "Which scene is it?" "It's when the brother kills a bird." Juho remembered his old work vividly. There, was the brother killing a bird and Yun, who watched him quietly. There was a stark contrast between Yun's naive and fragile nature and his brother's ruthless and violent personality. The brother would ask his younger brother, "Are you still scared?" And Yun, the younger brother, would respond, "Yeah." Killing the bird was the brother's way of expressing his emotions toward his timid brother, who couldn't even go outside when the sun was up. "Is it rage?" the actor asked, and Juho looked up at him and asked, "Rage?" "Yes. The brother ends up killing the bird, and chucks the carcass at Yun. After killing the very target of his fear, he's essentially putting what's left of it in the hands of his frightened younger brother, Yun. Now, the older brother is fully aware that Yun is afraid of birds. Yet, what he did wasn't for the benefit of his younger brother or to comfort him or to encourage him to do the same." That was the actor's interpretation of the scene. The older brother would do something terrible, leaving their house tainted by the bird's blood. He had brought the very thing Yun feared into his place of hiding. That place was no longer safe. The very person who knew his brother's weakness pinched him where it would hurt the most. It was betrayal. "So, I acted it out," Myung Joo said as he raised both of his hands, looking like he was grasping onto something. It was the bird, trying to escape the hands that would bring its death. Juho played through the scene in his head. First, the brother would twist the bird's wings. It had been a rule of sorts that he had kept whenever he commited similar acts. Without the chance to fly away, the bird would be as good as dead. Yet, it struggled to fight back, trying to walk on its two feet. It was at that moment that the brother let the bird free for a short time, as he made his way to the kitchen to look for a knife. By the time he returned, the bird was exactly where he had left it. "Now, this is where the brother kills the bird, raging. His face twists into a scowl, and his jaw becomes tense. He's fuming from his nostrils, and his breathing becomes more rigorous. The blood rushing up to his head fuels his rage all the more." With that, the actor lowered his hands in a slightly awkward manner. "I'd read your book before it was decided that it'd be made into a movie, Mr. Woo. Of course, this was before I took the role of the brother. When I read your book, I did it from Yun's point of view." "That makes sense, considering that the book is written from his point of view," Juho said. "There's that, but I thought that I had done it because I had resonated with him," the actor said. "In what way?" With that, Myung Joo pondered for a brief time and answered in his low, resonant voice, enunciating everything clearly. "Whenever I sense danger, I tend to take a step back and analyze the situation. I shrink and stop in my tracks, and I don't move a muscle until I have a better grasp of my opponent. The brother however, is different." "Yes, he is," Juho answered after a brief pause. It was the first time he gave a definite answer. It was an affirming answer, and everyone in the room recognized it. Myung Joo clenched his hands into fists and said, "He charges fearlessly toward his opponent. Those who run ahead tend to look admirable, and you start to long to be like them. For that reason, people stay by their sides and fall in love with them. I know I did, just like Yun." "I see." Myung Joo redirected the conversation back on its track: the day when the brother killed a bird. "So, what the older brother did comes to Yun as betrayal. Yun gets hurt, and he starts to despise his brother." Juho gave him no answer. That couldn't be his point, considering that he was the actor who would portray the brother, not Yun. What he really wanted to know was… "Is he really raging?" The question returned to him. "Shouldn't Yun be the one raging? The two are polar opposites, responding to the same target in completely different ways. But are they, all of a sudden, both raging toward each other?" A quiet, light-hearted laughter sounded from Juho.

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127 Chapter 127 - Twisting the Bird’s Neck 4

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Man…" Myung Joo let out, both impressed and overwhelmed. "Amazing," he added in affirmation. "Which means…" "That's right," Yun Woo opened his mouth and said. "The brother isn't raging." "... but what does that mean?" "What do you think?" Suddenly, the tension was broken by a loud noise. Looking in Sang Young's direction, Juho found that his cup has spilled over. "Be careful." "Please don't be like that. Not here," he said in a suppressed voice as if he were almost begging. "What do you mean?" "Mr. Woo…" Soo Jung was the same. Before Juho realized, a pen and a notepad appeared in her hands. "Mr. Woo," the pleasant-sounding voice said. "Yes?" "Please. Tell us." Desperation. With the exception of Yun Woo, everyone in the room was desperate for an answer from the author himself. They were dying to make it a part of their movie. "What you really want is to be moved from within, right?" Myung Joo asked as he quietly locked eyes with Juho. "I'd like to be him: the perfect recreation of Yun's brother," he added, his eyes sparkling with strong determination. Juho thought about the people he was surrounded by in the room. They were movie makers who wrote and acted. They were all different in age, gender and preferences. "May I ask who your favorite authors are? Myself excluded, of course," Juho asked, and they answered his seemingly random question without hesitation. "I enjoy Shakespeare quite a bit." "Natsume Soseki for me." "Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, one of the greats of German literature." Three distinctly different people, coming together to make a movie. They all desired success. While they might each define success differently, all of them worked with everything they had. "I'm confident. I'll move the hearts of my audience with my movie no matter what, including yours. However…" Sang Young said as he wiped the table. "I don't know if I'd be able to push on any further if I were to leave here without hearing an answer from you." Juho laughed off his seemingly alarming remark. "C'mon now. Don't take my hesitation too seriously." Sang Young had arranged the meeting with the intention of working together with the author. After all, it was about none other than Yun's brother. At the end of the day, Juho was partly responsible for making it more difficult for Sang Young and his crew in their efforts to interpret the character. He couldn't handle the violent nature of the character himself. "He doesn't rage," Juho said, then looked at Sang Young and added, "You asked me about him before, right? If he'd commit murder?" "I did." Murder. Abortion. Though indirect, he bloodied his hands by forcing his girlfriend to kill the baby in the same way that he would then kill the bird. After that, who would he chuck the lifeless carcass at? "I tried to accentuate the contrast between Yun's and his brother's characters. Do you know why?" Myung Joo shook his head. "Because they're similar." "Similar…" "Yes. They're both afraid of the same thing, and they've witnessed the fear in each other's faces. The brother destroyed what belonged to another person and hid in his brother's house, all out of fear. What would Yun think at that point?" "That he doesn't want to be like his brother," Soo Jung murmured. "That's right. From that point of view, the stark contrast in the two characters takes on a-whole-nother form all of a sudden." Her hands moved about busily. "But they, themselves, would know that they share the same roots." "Yes, there are always traces of it." Taking a sip of water, he continued, "So, like you said, Mrs. Choi, the reason he chooses to invade Yun's refuge and kill the bird there has nothing to do with encouraging or comforting his younger brother. He only did it for himself, so that he could be ready for the upcoming murder." "Does that mean one can interpret it as Yun and his brother sharing the same conscience?" "Yes." Having caught on immediately, Soo Jung moved her hands busily. It might have seemed that the brother chucked the dead bird at Yun on the outside, but at the end of the day, it was none other than himself. He had killed because he was afraid. "So, it's the brother's hand that ends up getting bloodied. There's something sacrificial about it. Yun places all of the emotions that he didn't want to deal with on his brother, while he goes out into the light himself. After all, the brother is the dark while Yun is the light." Unlike Yun, his brother was a person who had never learned to love himself. Yet, he had tried desperately to. Only then, was Yun able to keep his self-love. Myung Joo thought about Soo Jung's words. It was simply too… "Sad," Juho said. At that moment, Myung Joo came to a realization. He heard the answer he had been looking for desperately. "He's sad." "Yes." Falling apart. Taking lives. Bloodied hands. Unable to rage. All that just to be left in the dark. Myung Joo was overwhelmed with sadness all of a sudden. 'Did he manage to bear through the sadness of having to remain in the dark and sinning until the end?' He felt something welling up from within, and it was a burden that nobody would be willing to share. Knowing that he wouldn't be able to last long in that state, he asked, "Does he die?" He didn't ask "who." Juho didn't dare to write the brother's demise. It was far too destructive for young Juho, and because of that, he had never seen the brother's end. Would he die? "I'm not sure," Juho said softly as he imagined the scene in his head. It was the small room where Yun had been hiding, where the walls had been splattered by the bird's blood. Things like a wardrobe, a desk, and writing tools were spread about the room, giving it an untidy appearance. Two pens, one mechanical pencil, and half an eraser stained with the pencil's lead. The covers gave off a stuffy odor, and faint daylight shone through the curtains onto it. The bird had been as good as dead the moment it lost its wings. Despite knowing that it would never fly again, it fought desperately for its life, roaming around the room as if it were saying "So what if I can't fly? I have legs." Juho called for the brother to ask him personally: 'What would you do?' "Mr. Woo?" He opened his eyes. The brother never turned up. "Is it getting too late for you?" "Huh?" He saw the puzzled look on Myung Joo's face and said, "He must've either died or gone away." "Sigh, you're not going to make this any easier, are you?" Sang Young grumbled, and hearing those words made Juho somewhat sad. --- The publishing company was always busy. Editors worked busily everyday, and Jang Mi was no exception. "Dong Baek Publishing Company." Editors were also responsible for answering the phones that would ring from time to time. Lately, she had been receiving calls asking about someone in particular. "I wanted to ask about Won Yi Young?" It was none other than Won Yi Young. The readers remained curious about him. If Won Yi was capable of drawing that much attention, how much more would Yun Woo draw? Wishing her editor-in-chief good luck, she interacted with the reader as brightly as possible. "So, I've been really, really curious about this. Is Won Yi a professor or someone who majored in linguistics?" "Oh, no. He's an ordinary high school student." In reality, he was far from ordinary. After all, he was Yun Woo himself. Resisting the urge to mention the name, 'Yun Woo,' Jang Mi said, "I'm sorry. I'm afraid we can't disclose that information." After complaining for some time, the reader moved on to ask yet another question, "When is the next volume of 'The Language of God' coming out?" It had been among the most frequently asked questions as of late. 'When is the next volume coming?' At the question she was all too familiar with, Jang Mi had to resist herself from sighing heavily. The readers were already starting to get antsy. Even the company's major work, 'The Dr. Dong Series,' had never drawn so much attention and anxiety. "The date hasn't been set yet, but we're happy to inform you that it'll be in the near future. "Mhm… Yes. Thank you for calling." As soon as she hung up the phone, the phone rang yet again elsewhere, and another editor answered with the familiar phrase, "Dong Baek Publishing Company." It was probably about Won Yi. "Ah, yes. Mr. Young." Of course. She was far too used to the name by that point. The public had a certain image of the book, 'The Language of God.' It was widely recognized as a book that had become a bestseller by word of mouth, which led people to view the book in a positive light. Only the publishing company would know how busy they had been with marketing and sales. Rising from her seat, Jang Mi made her way to the Planning Department. "Mr. So?" "Ah! Hello!" The head of the Planning Department greeted her as he rose from his seat. "I wanted to get some data for tomorrow's meeting from you." "You mean the proposal? Give me one moment." After he handed her the document, she looked at the data and asked, "You were on your way to a bookstore, right?" "Yep. We recently decided to increase the display for the book." He was referring to the display racks at a bookstore. The more the books were being displayed, the more they became visible. Books that were more visible tended to sell more. "Now's our chance. The book became a bestseller, so it'll really start to take off. We should row while there's water." With a pair of dark circles under his eyes, Mr. So smiled brightly. Seeing those dark circles, Jang Mi related to him as she most likely look the same. "Well, you be safe." "Will do." She looked at the document in her hands. The numbers that were growing steadily were starting to rise more aggressively, and she couldn't resist smiling. While she did work hard to achieve those numbers, Won Yi's work was at the center of it. If the book had not been interesting, it would have never taken off no matter how much time and money they invested into marketing. A tree with rotting roots was destined to die regardless of how much water and sunlight it received. The roots of Won Yi's book would grow even deeper, and it would grow into a unshakeable tree. "Jang Mi, did you take a look at the final draft?" a coworker asked. "Not yet. I'll look over it by tomorrow." "Oh, c'mon! You were supposed to look at it by today!" "Well, you can blame Mr. Young." Jang Mi moved her hands busily as work came flooding in, then asked about the topic that usually came up around the same time, "Speaking of which, the essay contests are going into their screening stage, right?" "You mean for the Literature Award?" The Literature Award was given to the work with the most literary value of that year, and the screening usually began in winter. There were countless awards offered by different companies, publishers and associations, but none of them were as significant or recognized as the Three Literary Awards of Korea. Jang Mi was particularly interested in the Dong Kyung Literary Award. The reason being… "It's the only award that considers full-length novels." Unlike most literary awards that only considered short stories and mid-length novels, length was not one of the qualities judged by the Dong Kyung Literary Award. It judged a wide range of books that were published that year. 'Which book would turn up at the top for its literary value that year?' "I'm pretty sure it's going to be Yun Woo. No doubt," the coworker said. Considering his presence, Yun Woo would be one of the most likely candidates. While agreeing, Jang Mi shook her head. "But there are more established authors who did well this year. Seo Joong Ahn put out his first book in five years as well." "Speaking of which, Geun Woo Yoo's 'Sad Face' was pretty well received. So did Joon Soo Bong's, your favorite." The Dong Kyung Literary Award was an award that judged a book strictly for its literary value. It didn't matter how famous or obscure the author was. If anything, there were quite a few books that had become bestsellers after winning the award. One additional sentence in a marketing campaign was more than enough for the book to sell: "Winner of the Dong Kyung Literary Award." "I wonder how this book will do?" Jang Mi said as she looked at 'The Language of God' in front of her.

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128 Chapter 128 - Cheering Loudly 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Hello," a voice greeted Yun Seo on her way into the building, and they exchanged bows. It was Pyung Jin Lee, a book critic who had been rising to fame because of his TV appearance. "I enjoy watching your show quite a bit, Mr. Lee." "You're too kind, Mrs. Baek." They walked together since the two were headed to the same place, and his yellow necktie dangled about. "We haven't met since the recent reading." "You're right." Pyung Jin was one of the judges for the Dong Kyung Literary Award that year. Consisting of four novelists and three critics, judges met monthly for a reading and discussed their opinions on the books that were published that year. So far, the candidates were narrowed down to fifteen, and the time to choose the final candidate had finally come. "Which do you think will be the top four?" "It's hard to say," Yun Seo said, keeping her answers brief. Every single candidate that would be chosen by the judges came at the result of the author's blood, sweat, and tears. While there was no such a thing as ranking in literature, the very existence of an award had the effect of attaching numbers to everything associated with it. "I look forward to finding out who will be the recipient of this year's honor." Yun Seo smiled bitterly at Pyung Jin's remark. Yet, awards existed, and they were sought after by many. Winning a literary award brought honor to its recipient, and the Dong Kyung Literary Award was especially significant. It didn't matter if an author was a rookie or veteran, or the length or the content of their work. The award would be judged based solely on its literary value. "This year is special," Pyung Jin said excitedly. "We might have the youngest winner ever." "Right." The fifteen authors of the fifteen candidate books were almost all in their thirties, and each and every one of them stood out that year. Among them, was a person who stuck out like a sore thumb. "Yun Woo." There had been prodigies in the literary world. While some showed talent in language and others the capacity to write something with significant literary value, it took years for those prodigies to be able to write a respectable story. Yet, Yun Woo wrote his second book within a year of his first book being published. On top of that, it shocked its readers with its outstanding content. "Who would've thought that he'd bloom into such a beautiful flower?" He was referring to 'The Sound of Wailing.' Remembering his critique of the book, Yun Seo asked, "Coming to think of it, you weren't very excited about Yun Woo's debut, right?" "I suppose you can say that, at least until I read his second book anyway," he admitted quietly. He was not fond of younger authors. Yun Woo definitely knew how to approach human emotions with utmost purity, and there was no doubt that we was an excellent writer. His book was far too complex for his age, yet it was a book that could only be written at his age. Pure content and seasoned writing, those were some of the defining qualities of Yun Woo's debut title. "His image as a star was more apparent than his image as an author." Pyung Jin believed that the masses had vastly overestimated the young author, and that even the critics were blinded by his uniqueness. He was convinced that Yun Woo was taking advantage of his widely perceived image of being a genius. "Yet, I couldn't have been more wrong." "Then?" "I was underestimating him as an author." Yun Woo was an author who had remained anonymous and published his second book, 'The Sound of Wailing,' within a year. Pyung Jin thought that he would follow the trails of the authors who vanished from the literary world, leaving only their debut title. Writing tended to be merciless. It robbed every last bit of authors who were content with their own talents. Then, the work came out into the world and never to fade away. "'The Sound of Wailing' was excellent. I believe that it surpassed the predecessor by far. It's deeper and more potent. Rather than falling on his face, he matured. Sometimes, I wonder if he's made a deal with the devil." Pyung Jin knew nothing about Yun Woo. He didn't know what he looked or sounded like, and that was fueling the fear within him. "What if he's not like what I expected?" Yun Seo smiled cheerfully at his remark. "You're starting to sound a little biased." "I can say things like that because I'm with you, Mrs. Baek. You're level-headed even with your pupils' works." "I respect my pupils." For authors, there was no significance in winning an award with the help of their teacher. If anything, it was an act of insult toward another author. As they conversed, they reached their destination, and the two walked into the room. A large, U-shaped table came into view. Other judges who had arrived prior to them rose from their seats simultaneously in order to greet Yun Seo. As they caught up with each other, the door closed at the previously agreed time. "Ladies and gentleman, we will now proceed to vote for the final candidate for the Dong Kyung Literary Award," one of the judges said, and the voting began. "The result is in." Yun Seo sat and listened quietly. The judge started with the work that received the most votes. "Most voted: Yun Woo's 'The Sound of Wailing.'" The room sank with calmness, masking the strong sense of excitement. Yun Seo shared that sentiment with all of the other judges in the room. Amid the odd tension, the judge moved on to announce the next candidate. "Seo Joong Ahn's 'One Room.'" Yun Seo nodded quietly. His book was quite good. "Dae Soo Na's 'The Finger that Rings the Bell.'" Pyung Jin moaned quietly as he was reminded of a grotesque scene in that book. "And lastly, Soon Soo Bong's 'I Remember the Lightning from that Day.' These four stories were chosen as the final candidates for the final evaluation." Yun Seo studied the results. The votes were focused noticeably on one author. "This year's results are turning out to be quite odd," a judge said. Usually, the votes would be equally distributed for the most part, making it difficult to choose. However, that pattern was about to change. "'The Sound of Wailing' seems to be the strongest candidate." "What happens when Yun Woo wins?" "He'd be the youngest author to have won." The votes were focused on Yun Woo. Having voted for him herself, Yun Seo didn't have anything to add. Being one of the most significant literary awards in the country, it wouldn't be an overstatement to say that the Dong Kyung Literary Award was the highest honor an author could receive for a full-length novel. Other judges chimed in, however. "Mr. Bong tends to focus on the expressions. His sentences are excellent, and it makes me envy him every time I read them. It stood out that the story unfolds from the perspective of a twisted individual, questioning the foundation of life." "Reading 'The Finger that Rings the Bell' was like a roller-coaster ride. It's very easy to read, yet the sentences have weight. I think Dae Soo Na is one of the best when it comes to striking that fine balance. Although, I can't deny that it's a bit excessive in places." "Mr. Ahn published a book that's different from his previous books, and I gotta say that it's rather distant from the stories he's been writing. The result of that change, however, was a success. It was refreshing to see such a closed-off story from him." The turn went to Yun Seo, and she slowly opened her mouth and said, "Yun Woo is…" All eyes were on her. Yun Woo. While he was alone, he was special, and for that reason, he drew a significant amount of attention. However, the Dong Kyung Literary Award was given to a book, not its author. Yun Seo corrected herself, "Yun Woo's writing tends to be rather potent." His books had a lasting impact on the readers. It was not watered down by any stretch of imagination. After reading it, one couldn't simply get rid of the experience. Things would never be the same. The impact lingered in the readers' hearts and continued to affect them. "It puts me in an awkward place." --- "Sigh," Nam Kyung let out heavily. He had been glaring at the phone in front of his eyes for the last thirty minutes. "Nam Kyung, relax," said Mr. Maeng, but that proved to be of little help. If he were in Nam Kyung's shoes, he might have been just as nervous when the author he'd been working with was on the verge of being the youngest winner of an award of nationwide recognition. "I might be getting a call. I feel like I'm being crushed by my own anticipation." "Are you sure you're not celebrating too soon? What if another author ends up getting the award?" "Don't be like that now," Nam Kyung said, still glaring at his phone piercingly. Shaking his head, Mr. Maeng returned to his task. However, his concentration was short-lived as the desk shook uncontrollably. "You're shaking your legs." "How can I not?!" With that, Mr. Maeng threw his hands up in the air. It wouldn't be an understatement to say that the entire company was in the same state Nam Kyung was in. If Yun Woo were to actually win the award, the impact would be all the more powerful. The phrase 'Winner of the Dong Kyung Literary Award' would follow after every copy of 'The Sound of Wailing,' and people would buy the book without even knowing about the award. The sales would jump drastically, and the publishing company would be even busier. "We might be able to get further ahead of 'The Language of God.'" "I agree." There was a book that had been on the rise at a frightening rate. It was a book called 'The Language of God.' "It's ranked number one in genre novels, right? It's picking up at a threatening speed, and it'll sell even more." Being a rather long book, Nam Kyung hadn't gotten around to reading it himself. However, he had been hearing about it quite often. It was a book that showcased its own unique, finely detailed world. From the villages visited by the characters to the stores, there was nothing crude about the book. The only reason why Nam Kyung knew so much about the book was because of his coworker, Mr. Maeng, who was an avid fantasy novel fan. "'The Language of God' is incredible. It's been a while since I've read about such an enormous world. At the same time, the details are just fascinating. The language used in that book has a structure that's both delicate and flawless. There are people who actually learned it, so I tried to learn it myself, but it was a tad too difficult for me. And the characters! There's a clear sense of direction in their quest, so it makes it really exciting for the readers. They come across all sorts of people and events, and the characters become more three-dimensional in the process. Translating the mythology and the history within the book is also fun in its own way." "I know nothing about the book. Never read it." "Are you telling me that you haven't read the one book that's threatening 'The Sound of Wailing?'" "You know how busy I am. Where'd you find the time to read such a long book anyway?" "I sacrificed my sleep." Applying eye drops to his dry, tired eyes, Mr. Maeng kept on. "I liked also Won Yi's new work about a girl who believes in destiny. It was such pure literature. I personally believe that Won Yi Young was a literature major." With that, he suddenly stopped talking. "What made you stop?" "Coming to think of it, there's something about him that resembles Yun Woo." "Is that so?" "Yeah. What could it be? Is Won Yi Young a fan of Yun Woo? Maybe he was heavily influenced by him considering that his book came out after the Yun Woo fever?" "I see." Listening half-heartedly, Nam Kyung checked the time. Any minute now. "They're taking a while." "May be the evaluation is going longer than planned," Mr. Maeng said as he looked at the shaking desk. At that moment, the voice of the editor-in-chief sounded in the distance, "Still?" "Yes," Mr. Maeng answered on Nam Kyung's behalf. "Make sure your phones are connected!" the editor-in-chief said. "Don't worry, we made thorough checks. As long as we don't lose electricity, we should be able to hear the news without any issue," Nam Kyung answered as he pulled up his glasses. "Would you please stop shaking your legs, then?" "C'mon… any minute now," the editor-in-chief grumbled. At that moment, the phone rang. Everyone focused on it anxiously. However, it was not Nam Kyung's phone that rang. "Ah, yes. Mr. Woo," Mr. Maeng answered the phone. It was one of the regular calls asking about Yun Woo. Once he hung up, he felt like his strength had left his body, and he buried his head on his desk, shaking. Everything stopped at that moment. "The moment of truth." The phone broke the silence. Nam Kyung calmly brought the receiver up to his ear, and after responding repeatedly, he hung up. The loud sound of cheering filled the room.

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129 Chapter 129 - Cheering Loudly 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Juho woke up with the sound of his phone vibrating. The light rushing into his eyes reminded him that he had slept in, which made sense considering how late he had gone to bed the night before. Picking up the phone that was still vibrating, he tapped on the call button. It was Nam Kyung. "Hello?" It was rather rowdy on the other end of the line, and Juho brushed down his face with his hand, still half asleep. "Congratulations!" Nam Kyung said excitedly. 'What is he talking about?' Juho wondered. "You won the Dong Kyung Literary Award, Mr. Woo!" The Dong Kyung Literary Award was one of the three major literary awards in South Korea, and Juho had already been informed that his book had been chosen as one of the final candidates. But what did Nam Kyung just say? "'Scuse me?" It was a rather hectic morning. --- "The winner of the Dong Kyung Literary Award, Yun Woo." "The youngest winner in the history of Korean literature. What are the three major literary awards?" "A closer look at Yun Woo's 'The Sound of Wailing.'' "Yun Woo, the author who showers in awards, takes home yet another trophy." "The new wave of the publishing industry, Yun Woo." "I don't know what the Dong Kyung Literary Award is, but he sure is impressive." "All of the bookstores are filled with his books." "Is Korea finally getting its own, world-renowned author?" "I heard 'Trace of a Bird' is really taking off overseas." "I'm starting to get used to his title of being 'the youngest author to do this and that.'" "He doesn't have a ghostwriter, does he? How old is he again?" "I'd love to meet the guy. I hope he's ugly as heck. It'll remind me that this world is fair." "He's probably much better looking than you though." "Wouldn't he have to show up for his award? Is he finally going to reveal himself?" "I heard the editor is accepting the award on the author's behalf." "I don't even look at his books, but I'm super stoked that he's getting the award! This is more nerve-racking than the Entertainment Award on TV. You're the best, Yun Woo." "I second that. I never thought I'd geek out over a writer." "Honestly though, it would've been controversial if he didn't win the award. Established authors are notorious for ostracizing newer authors on the rise." "Take me, Yun Woo." "His fandom will grow even larger. He's not going to start a boyband, is he?" "He already is a boyband-like figure in the literary world. Any book that bears the name "Yun Woo" will sell like there's no tomorrow." "What was I doing when I was his age? So jealous." "Congratulations, Mr. Woo." "Yes, thank you," Yun Woo answered Yun Seo on the phone. It wasn't until later that he found out that she was one of the judges. Juho received many more congratulatory calls from others, including the club members, Mr. Moon, and his fellow authors. He sat before his desk to work on his award speech that needed be sent to Nam Kyung by the end of the day. The Dong Kyung Literary Award was given to the author's work, not its author. Therefore, it would've been ideal to have the speech delivered by the author's work itself. Sadly, it was impossible in various aspects, and Juho was forced to pick up his pen. Reaching toward the stack of books on his desk, Juho pulled out a book from the middle. Because its edge had been torn out, he didn't even have to look to know that it was 'The Sound of Wailing.' 'What should I say?' he asked, but the book gave him no answer. As Juho opened the book, the image of the mother lingered before his eyes. After reading about a page, he ended up closing it again. He imagined an award ceremony without the awardee. There were countless people in the audience, sitting before a small stage. Standing on that stage would result in becoming the center of attention. The round spotlight shone onto the stage, creating a boundary for the allotted space. As they clapped like machines, Just was able to see some of the audiences. By the time the applause died down, Juho started off with his regret of not being able to be present in the ceremony. "For those who know my face, I'm sure you can imagine what I'm feeling at the moment. The only thing that enabled me to be able to publish my second book in such a short time was their silence. Because of them, I was able to write peacefully in a quiet place. Thank you." The audience remained silent, and everyone listened intently at the young genius' speech. "Now, my books will be decorated with the title "The winner of the Dong Kyung Literary Award." I'm mildly concerned by whether that phrase will actually work as a disadvantage toward the novel, but who knows? Maybe the book will be willing to accept it gladly. Of all books in this entire world, I find my own books to be the most mysterious." Juho looked down at the plaque in his hand as it sparkled beautifully. "I believe that this award is the proof that shows how many people were moved by and have identified with my book, 'The Sound of Wailing.' What was once unseen and uncaught, somehow found its way into my hands, wrapped up quite beautifully," he said as he raised the plaque up slightly. "It's an honor to be part of this." An explosive cheer sounded from the audience. Everyone celebrated the birth of the youngest winner. The applause went on for quite some time, and it almost sounded like it would last forever. As the plaque in his hand grew gradually heavier, Juho tossed it into the dark, smiling. The audience sank back into silence. "Now, I think I'll go write some more. I can't hold my pen when I have something else in my hand," he said as he raised his hand as a final gesture of his appreciation. "At any rate, thank you all." As he walked off the stage, Juho opened his eyes. After organizing his thoughts for a brief time, he began to write his speech one word at a time, adjusting the length and making it appropriate for the audience. Not too long after sending it to Nam Kyung, Juho received a call from him. "This won't do," he said, despite Juho making careful adjustments to the speech. Nam Kyung explained the social standings of the audience in detail to him. At Juho's indifferent attitude response, Nam Kyung begged more desperately than he'd ever done. "Please, go easy on your audience." Left with no choice, Juho revised his speech and sugar-coated a few words. Relieved, Nam Kyung accepted it willingly. A few days later, Nam Kyung accepted the award on Juho's behalf, and the speech written by Juho became a sensation for a while. While people grew all the more curious about Yun Woo, Juho walked leisurely about the park. He was standing in the eye of the storm. --- "James!" "Oh! Ethan!" James waved happily at his friend. As the semester came to an end, he left for the US to reunite with his friends. It had been yearly occurrence for him from the time he started his teaching career in Korea. "How've you been?" "As usual." "And the others?" "They're on their way." Having arrived early, Ethan's glass was already half empty. James also decided to enjoy himself with a glass while waiting for his friends. "Mm… I missed this." "You mean the drink?" "Yeah. There's something special about it." "We've been regulars for quite some time now." It wouldn't have been an overstatement to say that James had spent half of his college career there. The cozy shop was always filled with pleasant music. "Hey, they're starting." With the drums marking the introduction, the band in the corner of the shop started their performance. The occasional cymbal hits refreshed the hearts of the audiences. James gently moved his body to the rhythm of the music, which was as lively as a street performance. Music accompanied by a glass of alcohol tended to fill the area with happiness. "James!" "Sophia! Charlotte!" The friends sat at the table gladly. With music in the background, the four caught up with each other. As James was sharing things about his life in Korea, he suddenly remembered a particular face. "So, there's this really interesting student at my school." "Really? That's great! You were thinking about quitting!" Charlotte said gladly. Just as she had said, James had been seriously contemplating leaving his teaching position up until the year before. Teaching was not fun by any means, and living in a foreign country came with a series of challenges on its own. Though he chose that path intentionally at first, he found himself growing more and more tired of his career. However, there was one student who flipped his school life upside down. "We speak a similar language, and his English is impressive!" "Is he Korean?" "Yeah. Given that he excels in grammar and vocabulary, it feels really natural to talk with him, almost like talking with you guys." "Did he study abroad?" "Nope." "Maybe he watched a lot of American TV shows?' James shook his head. "He's a person who prefers books over moving images." "A-ha!" "His sense of language is impressive," James said. With that, he told his friends about the time he shared his study on Old English with Juho. Juho had learned the structure and its vast vocabulary through it, and James was rather impressed. Though he had made an offer to introduce him to a professor he knew, Juho had respectfully declined while smiling. "Is that for real?" "Yep. Down the line, he went even further and started asking about Latin or Gothic. Since I didn't know either of those languages, all I could do was get him the relevant resources." "Wow…" Ethan whistled quietly. At that moment, Sophia changed the subject abruptly, "Speaking of which, isn't there a genius author in the country you work in? Yun Woo?" James nodded. There was not a single person who wasn't familiar with that name in Korea, and James himself was also a fan. He had bought a translated copy from a website overseas. The astonishment he felt from the book had a lot in common with that of his conversations with Juho. "He's really, really famous." Having been published back to back, both of Yun Woo's books had been sensational, and a film adaptation was in progress. James was especially fond of the author's personality reflected in his recent speech at the award ceremony. "It just so happens that he's the same age as the student I was just talking about." "I read his books too, so I looked him up immediately. I was disappointed that there was such little information about him." "It's not too different in Korea." "Well, it's probably not good for him to be exposed to the media at such a young age." "Oh, I'm sure." At that moment, Charlotte interjected in the middle of James and Sophia's conversation, "You guys are talking about 'Trace of a Bird,' right? The freshman?" "He should be a sophomore now. I mean a junior," James said as he thought of Yun Woo, who would be going into his second year of high school. (Editor's Note: High school goes on for three years in Korea.) "How can anyone write a book like that at that age? I almost doubted whether he even really existed. He's seriously an amazing writer," Charlotte said excitedly. "I agree. The translation wasn't half bad either. It was published by Fernand, after all." "Is it really that good? Everyone I meet has been talking about that book lately!" Ethan asked as he took a sip of the glass he had ordered. "It's a remarkable product by a young author. I'm sure he's going to be loved for years on end," Sophia answered. "Is he like a reincarnated Shakespeare?" "He's not English though," Charlotte answered as she brought a beer bottle up to her mouth. "It's the first time in years that I've read a foreign book." "Same here. Seo Joong Ahn, was it? I did read his book, but I'm still relatively unfamiliar with Korean novels," Sophia agreed with her friend, and then chimed in as if she remembered something. "So, according to my friend, Yun Woo's particularly popular in France. His book is a bestseller in Europe already." "That makes sense," James said as he looked at his friends intently. "Do you guys know about his new book? It's really taking off in Korea. It won an award recently and, apparently, it holds quite a weight there." With that, a bright smile appeared on Sophia and Charlotte's faces. "Yes, the new book!" "We're also aware that Fernand got the rights to publish it." "Next week!" "We get to read Yun Woo's new book!" "I should get one myself," James said calmly. Despite the overwhelmingly positive remarks about Yun Woo, Ethan was the only one who looked displeased. "I think it's all because of his age," he said as he rubbed his nose.

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130 Chapter 130 - Cheering Loudly 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Come again?" Sophia asked, furrowing her forehead. Ethan added without hesitation, "If a man in his forties wrote a book like that, he couldn't have drawn that much attention." Sophia chuckled at his words. "You know so much about the author for someone who's never read his book." "It's obvious. I heard some professor had some pretty harsh things to say." "Criticism isn't everything though." "They do exist for a reason." "OK, are you aware that there are also professors who praised Yun Woo highly?" "Oh… That I didn't know, but I can tell that you really like him." "And you don't." "I can't stand how people are worshipping him, calling him things like genius." "They're not worshipping him." "OK, guys. That's enough," James intervened, and Ethan let up. "Well, I have no recollection of being invited to a literary society or anything. C'mon guys, it's been a while. Let's talk about something else." "This isn't just about the book," Sophia said. And Charlotte added with a smile, "Whether you like him or not, there's no one as sensational as Yun Woo in the literary world currently. 'Trace of a Bird' was a debut title. He's rising to fame with his debut title. An author is essentially the equivalent of his country's image, like John E. Steinbeck or Edgar Allan Poe. So, that makes our conversation…" "OK, OK, I get it. Should we all go to the bookstore or something?" The cymbals sounded in the distance, and the performance was reaching its climax. In a calmer tone, Sophia opened her mouth and said, "Well, should we change the subject for Ethan's sake?" "Yeah. I'll tell you about what happened to me this past week, James. You don't know yet, right?" Just like that, the conversation moved on. Because they had conflicting personalities, Sophia and Ethan tended to get into heated arguments from time to time. The fact that they had remained friends was a miracle. Some time later, after making plans to go to the bookstore with his friends, James ended up running into the very person he had intentionally left out: Ethan. "So, what brings you here?" In between Sophia and Charlotte who were smiling proudly for a unknown reason, Ethan said, "Yun Woo is the best author there is." --- "Congratulations on winning the Dong Kyung Literary Award, Mr. Woo!" "Thank you," Juho answered Nabi light-heartedly. "No matter how many times I'm here, this is a rather unique place to have a meeting," she added as she looked around. They were at the botanical garden. Usually, a meeting like that would take place in an office, studio, cafe, or a private room in a restaurant. Then, the door sounded open and a man walked in. His face appeared under the vines. It was Nam Kyung. "I'd consider this to be a private room. It's attached to the botanical garden," Juho told Nam Kyung. "I've never been here, so I got a little lost," he said as he closed the squeaky door, looking around at his surroundings. "I didn't know this place existed." Past the tall banana trees, there was something that resembled a door that also looked like a large leaf or part of the wall. It was the same door that Nam Kyung had come in through. The place was occupied by a hefty wooden table, chairs, and a vending machine. "Not many people know about this place aside from the security guard and the custodian." Juho looked around and saw a long, skinny pot that was filled with nothing but dirt. Empty flower pots were lined up like works of pottery. Surrounded by translucent walls, that place had been used for potted plants exhibitions at one point. "The potted plants weren't all that popular, so they converted it into a resting area, but there's a snazzy cafe next to the garden's entrance now, so that's probably where people prefer to be. Besides, I'm sure most people prefer a well-brewed cup of coffee over one from a coffee machine." "How you found this place is still beyond me." Juho had recently come to discover the place while on his walk. He visited the botanical garden frequently, yet the door managed to remain hidden from his sight. He had just recently opened the door that had existed even before his death and revival. Despite the number of years he had lived, he had never opened that door until that moment. "I opened it out of curiosity at first, and that's when I locked eyes with a custodian. He asked me to come and use it whenever I could because he felt like the place was being abandoned when there was no sign of it being off limits." "That makes sense." Nabi remembered the time when she opened the old, black door for the first time. The door handle gave her a sense of uneasiness, and with the place filled by plants, dirt and the damp air, it seemed like a perfect haven for insects. The door was covered in long vines, giving an unwelcoming look. However, in reality, it was a rather ordinary place. Despite the empty flower pots and flowerbeds, it looked noticeably difference from the inside. Nabi found herself growing fond of the place already. Every breath she took was seasoned by the fragrance of nature. "It's warm throughout the year in here because of the plants." "There's a vending machine in here too, so we can have ourselves a cup of tea whenever we desire. Nam Kyung, join us." Before joining Nabi and Juho, Nam Kyung walked toward the vending machine. Black, Latte, Light, Iced. He saw the thick letters written on the buttons. "I recommend Job's tears." With Juho's recommendation, Nam Kyung put in thirty cents and pushed the button. The cup fell out, and it was quickly filled with a liquid, spreading about its nutty fragrance. It was a scent that took him back. If Nam Kyung had been in Juho's shoes, he wouldn't have even thought about opening the door and seeing what was on the other side. "Everytime we meet, it feels like we get to share a secret with you, Mr. Woo." With a warm cup in his hands, Nam Kyung took a seat. Though the chair was a tad too rigid, it was still comfortable. "I agree. It feels like we're in a secret garden." The three conversed as they sipped their tea. With an editor and publishing agent in the same place, the topic was a rather predictable one. "So, Kelley Coin's come out with a new book." "Yes, our company got the rights to publish it. I heard you were a big help." "It was chaos. It was a mud fight between all of the companies that had made an offer, essentially. I really had to stay on top of my game..." Having made an offer through the Imperst Agency, Zelkova Publishing Company came out on top after a fierce competition. While Nam Kyung had been busy with Yun Woo's book at the time, the entire company was celebrating their victory. "... Although the almighty Kelley Coin ended up being pushed aside by Yun Woo," Nabi said as she smiled brightly. "The number one bestseller nationwide is 'The Sound of Wailing,' while the 'Trace of a Bird' is second. These books are flying off the shelves because of the award. On top of that, 'Trace of a Bird' has also caught a second wind when the fever was starting to die down because of the progress of the film adaption." "There's much to be grateful for." "It's today, right?" Nam Kyung asked as he took a sip of his tea. Everyone there knew immediately what he meant. "The day when 'The Sound of Wailing' is being published in the US?" "Fernand sent us an offer about publishing Yun Woo's second book. His books have already been proven with numbers, so they're picking it up much sooner than I'd anticipated!" Nabi said with sparkling eyes and then took her phone out of her bag to search for something on the internet. "'Trace of a Bird' made it to the top ten in the entire American market. Not in some subclassification, but in the overall market. It's on the rise across the globe, including the US, England, France, Germany, and fifteen other countries. It's simply mind-boggling." Her hand shook while holding her phone. Sixteen years old. Two hundred thousand copies of the first edition. There were quite a few eye-catching elements. Even the content of the book was something that was relatable to the entire world. "But it seems to be receiving mixed reviews," Juho said. After a brief moment of hesitation, Nabi shook her head and said, "The overall reviews have been overwhelmingly positive. That's also what's making the minority opinions stand out more." An American professor had openly criticized the book once, describing 'Trace of a Bird' as a journal written by a child. It was rather sarcastic, and it was obvious that he wasn't willing to acknowledge the book as literature. Yun Woo's age was a double-edged sword. The massive attention came at the expense of trust. Nabi was frustrated, but the opportunity had finally come. "'The Sound of Wailing' will be leaving Korea today." The book had much more depth than its predecessor. While it was not as pure, it was apparent that Yun Woo had matured as an author. It was more than enough to prove those who looked down on him for his age wrong. Would the same professor be able to criticize it in the same way? "Oh! I just remembered something. Have you heard?" Nam Kyung asked. His cup was nearly empty, and Nabi and Juho turned their eyes in his direction. "There's another book that's been on the rise recently." "Another book?" "It's a genre novel, but I've been hearing a lot about it. Apparently, it has an enormous universe." Juho slowly brought his cup up to his mouth. He had an idea of what Nam Kyung was talking about. "Ah! I think I know what you're talking about. 'The Language of God,' right?" "Yes." 'Bingo,' Juho thought while remaining silent. "I haven't read it yet. What's it like?" Nabi asked. "I haven't read it either, but from what I hear, it's about a quest. Apparently, it's somewhere between a heroic and a narrative fantasy." "You seem to know quite a bit about the book." "I have a coworker who's really into fantasy novels. Thanks to him, I've been hearing about it nonstop along with his daily recommendation." Nam Kyung's cup crumpled up as he clenched his hand into a fist. "I've heard that the author is incredibly detailed with language. There's a group of people who think that the book was written by a working professor. It's not entirely absurd considering that it happens from time to time. Although, I'm not really sure why the author's choosing to stay anonymous." "Won Yi Young, right?" "It just made into top ten, so it'll sell even more." With that, Nabi looked at Juho and asked, "How about you Mr. Woo? Have you read it?" Juho's head leaned to the side for a brief time. "I suppose you can say that." "How was it?" "Hm, it's hard to say." As Juho dragged on, Nam Kyung interjected, "Coming to think of it, I heard that it's similar to your books. Is that why you read it?" Instead of giving an answer, Juho smiled quietly. "What's with the smile? It's making me uneasy," Nam Kyung said. Looking unusually excited, a coworker had been pouring out praises about a certain book, and since then, Nam Kyung had been hearing the same thing on a daily basis. He organized what he knew in his head. 'The Language of God' carried a significant presence among avid fans, and it was selling at an increasing rate. The publishing company was avoiding answering any questions regarding the author while the author himself remained anonymous and wrote in a similar style to Yun Woo's. Yun Woo and Won Yi. They were two different authors. Yet, they were similar. There was potential for it to evolve into a sensitive issue in an industry where personality was an essential factor. According to his experience, Juho's smile had never been something to be trusted. "Are you angry?" "'Scuse me?" "Are you being defensive?" Juho laughed yet again, and Nam Kyung realized that he had misjudged him. 'There's something there. What could it be?' Recognizing the odd tension in the air, Nabi asked, "Are they really that similar?" "It's odd." "Pardon?" Nam Kyung pulled up his glasses. Seeing Yun Woo in front of him reminded him of something that he had been forgetting. "One can't simply write like Yun Woo. How similar are they?" he asked. Because he hadn't read the book himself, there was no point of reference for him. Looking at the serious expression on Nam Kyung's face, Juho answered, "Down to a tee."

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131 Chapter 131 - Cheering Loudly 4

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "... What was that?" "They were exactly alike, down to a tee," Juho reiterated in a friendly manner. The air grew heavy with silence, and both Nam Kyung and Nabi stiffened up. Yun Woo himself was claiming that another person's work looked exactly identical to his own. Coming to his senses, Nam Kyung asked again in a hurry, "In what way? The style? The plot development? The content?" "Something more… fundamental." "We're not talking about plagiarism here, are we?" Nabi asked, wearing a serious look. "No, not at all." "Of course. We wouldn't be here right now otherwise." "Then, what is it? Are you saying that there's another person who's replicating your writing down to a tee? How's that possible? And what do you mean by fundamental?" Nam Kyung and Nabi looked at Juho with a perplexed look. Quietly fiddling with his cup, Juho said, "I, too, believe that my style is not easy to replicate. It'd take a considerable effort," and held his cup tighter, crumpling it. "But there is one possible scenario." "Which is?" Nam Kyung resolved to confront his coworker as soon as he returned to his office. How could he be so naive in praising an author who might have plagiarized another? 'No, this isn't his fault. An author's point of view is different from that of a reader. An author is much more sensitive. It's possible that it's something only visible to him. I can't think clearly in a state like this. I gotta go read this book myself,' Nam Kyung thought to himself. At that moment, Juho added, "If I wrote it." He said that as he folded the cup in half and placed it on the table. He flicked it, and it wobbled about as if it would tip over. Although it took on a different shape, the fact that it was a paper cup remained intact. "... Pardon?" Nabi asked on behalf of Nam Kyung who was frozen still. "I wrote it." "... I'm sorry, what?" Nabi asked again, and Juho laughed quietly, adding weight to his words. "I'm Won Yi Young." A shocked expression slowly appeared on Nam Kyung's and Nabi's faces. "Wait, hold on a second! What?! I mean… What!?" A wave of information flooded Nabi's head. 'Yun Woo is Won Yi Young, and he wrote a book under that name. Juho is both Yun Woo and Won Yi.' She felt her emotions escalate. Won Yi Young's book was being received as… "Uh… Would you mind if I made a quick trip to the bookstore?" "Not one bit." Leaving Nabi on her own as she sprung up from her seat excitedly, Nam Kyung opened his mouth and asked, "You're Won Yi Young?" "Yes." Nam Kyung felt dumbfounded by the brief answer. He felt all the clues regarding the author untangling all of a sudden. A genius and another genius. The two had been the same all along. "My goodness," his quiet exclamation echoed throughout the garden. Yun Woo had been the very author who had shocked readers and experts alike with the literary value of his works. In most cases, people who hurled harsh criticisms tended to be either jealous of him or fell into the category of conspiracy theorists. Yet… "A genre novel this time?" "I thought I would give it a try." Fixing his eyes on Juho, Nam Kyung rose from his seat slowly. "Nabi." "Yes?" "Please come with me…" … to the bookstore. Nam Kyung had just realized that he was standing in the eye of the storm itself. --- Waking up, Juho checked the time as he rubbed his tired eyes. It was morning. Thankfully, he had the luxury to sleep in since school was on break. Having written well into the night, he was rather sleepy. Following his instincts, he closed his eyes. The room was silent, so falling back asleep wasn't all that difficult. His consciousness faded slowly as darkness creeped in. "Juho. Juho Woo." Right as he was about to fall asleep, Juho opened his eyes at the door flinging open. It was hard to see. A voice urged him as he lay still on the bed. "Mom," he answered in a hoarse voice. It wasn't usual for his mother to wake him up like that. While she had been letting him sleep in knowing that her son wrote into the night regularly, the fact that she was waking him up deliberately meant that she had something to show him. After opening the window for ventilation, she rushed out of the room. A cold breeze rushed into the room and ruffled through his hair. 'It's getting cold,' he thought. Since it was no longer possible to go back to sleep, Juho stumbled his way toward the living room. "Look!" his mother said brightly as she stood in front of the large window, holding a cup in her hands. Juho shivered from the icy, cold breeze sweeping in from the window that was wide open. Still, he stood firmly in his place. "It's snowing!" Juho said as he saw the white particles falling from the sky. The white background was telling him that it had been snowing for some time. Everything was white. "It's been snowing since last night. I don't think it'll stop anytime soon," his mother said, and made her way to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. That was her reason for waking Juho up. Feeling the refreshing breeze, Juho stood quietly and stared out at the snow as he breathed out white steam. With the news anchor's voice delivering various news in the background, he stood there, looking out the window peacefully. "I'm sure everyone's heard of this name at some point. He's widely known as the genius who debuted as an author at the age of sixteen. Here's the news on Yun Woo." With that, Juho turned his head toward the source of the sound. "Juho! You're on the news!" his mother said as she rushed toward the living room. 'Something tells me that something similar had happened in the past,' Juho thought as he slid the window shut and made his way toward the couch. The morning news was on. Rubbing his cold cheek, he leaned back on the couch. "Let's hear from our reporters," the anchor said. The word 'Yun Woo fever' in the upper left corner of the screen came into his view. Still feeling half asleep, Juho stared dazedly at the screen as it changed to the view of a bookstore. Unlike usual, everything in the store was written in English, and a blond-haired man was examining the books. It was a bookstore overseas. Then, the screen changed yet again to a reporter's interview on Yun Woo. "Do you know an author by the name of 'Yun Woo?'" "Why, yes I do. He's rather famous." "Have you ever read his books?" "I've read 'The Sound of Wailing,' and I loved every bit of it. I was astonished that such a young author was capable of writing with such depth." With that, the reporter moved onto an African American woman, asking her similar questions. At the name "Yun Woo," she raised her thin eyebrows and nodded enthusiastically to show that she knew him. "I've read both of his books! I loved 'Trace of a Bird' especially. It was my first time reading a Korean novel, so there were definitely places where it felt somewhat unfamiliar to me, but it was hardly an issue. His book touched the hearts of many, and I'm one of them." Then, the same question was asked to a man pushing a stroller, walking alongside his young daughter. "I just bought a copy of Yun Woo's book, actually. It was recommended to me by the people around me, so I wanted to take a look. I gotta say, I like the cover design," he said as he took the book out. It was odd to see the book's title written in English. The cover design was also entirely different. With that, the screen quickly transitioned to the view of a building, and the reporter went on to talk about the Fernand Publishing Company and its long, prestigious traditions. "Now, we'll be interviewing the senior editor of Fernand, Adam." Following the reporter's introduction, Adam's face appeared immediately on the screen. His spiky hair and confident look left a strong impression. With the reporter's question, he went on to give an answer. "Yun Woo is an outstanding writer. Not only is his style incredibly delicate, but it's also quite sensitive. It's very apparent in his writing. I chose his books based solely on his writing, and I'm sure that you know better than me that I've made the right choice." With that, the reporter moved on to asking about the newly published book, 'The Sound of Wailing.' With big motions, he answered, "First of all, I thought that it was quite different from his debut title. It was astonishing how he was able to display his vast potential a mere two books. It's as if he's showing that he's capable of performing in any given environment, whether it's in the streets or in an orchestra." As Juho yawned while watching, the reporter in the screen asked Adam about the professor who had openly criticized Yun Woo and his book, 'Trace of a Bird,' to which he answered mockingly: "I'm sure she's always been an excellent student, throughout her entire school career, the kind who likes to follow the rules and is willing to do anything at the command of her teacher. As most students of her kind tend to be, I suspect that she was in the habit of writing in her journal everyday. It's apparent in the way that she's viewing Yun Woo's book: the journal of a juvenile whose life is filled with joy and sorrow." It was a rather cynical remark. While the translation appeared as subtitles on screen, they were watered down significantly from what Juho was actually hearing. With that, the screen transitioned back to the bookstore. "We look forward to this young prodigy's journey into the future as he reaches out to the world at the mere age of sixteen," the reporter concluded her segment, and the news anchor reappeared on the screen, delivering the following news about the rising popularity of Korean novels. "Son, what would you like for breakfast?" Juho's mother asked cheerfully. She seemed to be in a good mood. After pondering briefly, Juho answered, "Anything." "I don't know how to make that." "Then, anything tasty." "All the food I make is tasty." They conversed as usual. No matter how chaotic the world around them was, their conversations remained and always would remain the same in the same place. It was one of the few elements in his life that was both stable and comforting. As he had always done, Juho went back to his room after the meal and turned his computer on to write. Before him was three volumes worth of manuscript for 'The Language of God,' nearly finished. Since revealing his identity as Yun Woo to his clubmates, he had been writing without the hindrance of having to be conscious of others. Because of that, he had been able to work at a much faster pace. Needless to say, the school was on a break. The story in his head became a reality the moment he moved his hands, and he always wished for that joy he felt as a writer to translate directly to the readers. "Although it's easier said than done, of course." He wrote on a piece of paper that was as white as snow. He had been recently informed by Jang Mi that the company was experiencing an endless chain of inquiries about the next volume of 'The Language of God.' Things were quite hectic at the Dong Baek Publishing Company. The title of "best-seller" tended to elevate the book to a position where it was most visible to people, and as people chose the book that was the most visible to them, the book became even more of a best-seller. With the positive image that came from word of mouth, 'The Language of God' began to solidify its place as the best selling genre novel. After that, Juho sent the completed manuscript to the publishing company, and the third volume was published as the break approached its end. As readers were made exuberant by the rate at which the series was being published, the 'Language of God' reached top three in the bestsellers list.

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132 Chapter 132 - A Sparkling Gem 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl At the turn of the year, Juho became a sophomore, which meant that he had to move up to the floor above where him and his clubmates had stopped to go their separate ways. A new classroom meant new classmates, and he was placed in a unfamiliar environment yet again. "Did you see it on TV last night?" "What subject is first period?" "Ugh, so tired." Thanks the familiarity shared by the students, the classroom was still rather boisterous. Some had ended up in the same class with their close friends, while others ended up with classmates they had hardly talked to. However, the kids adjusted quickly to their new environment. Juho was the same way. It was the very class where he had come to visit Baron. He called for the classmate sitting in front of him. "What are you up to?" "Huh?" She turned around. It was Bom. They had ended up in the same class. "Are you bored?" Bom asked as she brushed her hair over. Her bob cut had already grown down to her shoulders, and the change told him how much time had passed. "A little bit," Juho said. If it were Seo Kwang, he would have jumped into talking about books. "I wonder how Seo Kwang's doing." "He's next door." "With Sun Hwa." Juho ended up in the same class as Bom, and Seo Kwang ended with Sun Hwa. While they related to one another in many ways, they didn't agree with each other just as often. "Do you think they're arguing right now?" "Hey guys, we're supposed to register for club activities by the end of the day," the newly elected class president announced timidly. Sadly, his weak voice was buried by the student's clamor. The class president seemed to have no intention of speaking any louder. Frustrated by the sight, his friend reiterated in a much louder voice, "Guys! Make sure to register for club activities by the end of the day!" "OK, OK." As the students answered half-heartedly, the class grew all the noisier with the chatter about the club activities. "You're staying, right?" Bom asked. To which Juho nodded and answered jokingly, "I gotta win an award at least." Knowing Juho's identity, Bom squinted at him. "Isn't that cheating?" "Well, I'll be disqualified then." "You know what, I'm NOT going out to a competition with you." "Why not?" "You really don't know?!" Juho laughed at her annoyed response. "But you're a good writer." "What?" Juho was fond of her writing because of her literary expressions, which was apparent in the story she wrote last year. As autobiographical as the book was, it was just as sincere. While it was somewhat flat and dull, it had warmth. "It's slightly awkward in places, but your expressions are excellent." "... That sounds like an actual compliment coming from you." "I am the ace of the club, after all." "Did you just say that with your own lips?" Then, Juho blurted out something he remembered all of sudden, "There are freshmen coming in this year!" Since he had moved up a grade, Juho would be in that position Mr. Moon had raved about so much. The position where every freshmen would look up to: Sophomore. "Wow… I'm a sophomore! That means there's going to be freshmen who might look up to me!" "Eh." Contrary to Juho's indifference, Bom was filled with excitement. "I don't have a younger sibling and I never had someone look up to me either." "Really?" "Yeah. I don't know why I'm getting so excited. I'm gonna help them adjust to high school and understand what Mr. Moon is saying when he speaks in riddles. I'm not really in a position to be teaching anybody, but still." As Juho listened to Bom quietly, he opened his mouth and said, "Do you think we should be expecting new members anytime soon?" Bom stopped talking. "The Literature Club doesn't have all that much presence. Yes, we're a bit more known than before because of the exhibition at the library, but we only have one junior in the entire club, so it wouldn't be odd if we don't get any incoming freshmen wanting to join the club." It was more than possible that they might not be getting any new members. "I did think about that," Bom said timidly. "Right?" "Still, people have been developing more interest in literature lately, thanks to our very own Mr. Woo. I'm certain we'll have at least one person wanting to join." "What are you guys talking about?" a voice interfered. When Bom and Juho turned around, they saw Seo Kwang and Sun Hwa standing behind them. Juho gave them a brief summary of their conversation. "We're talking the incoming freshmen." "A-ha!" Understanding immediately, Sun Hwa stood next to Bom. Since they were planning on staying in the Literature Club, they actively engaged in the conversation. "It wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing if we don't get any new members." "Still, it'd be kind of demoralizing. It's a new semester, and we're sophomores." "I asked Baron, and he said not to expect too much from the freshmen as a sophomore." "Do you realize that you're spitting on your own face right now?" Sun Hwa mocked Seo Kwang as she clicked her tongue. The club members had been waiting for the incoming freshmen, each with an expectation of their own. "Well, we'll find out whether there's going to be a new addition to the club or not soon enough." --- "I'm gonna go on ahead." "OK! We'll join you soon!" As Bom and Juho went their separate ways, Juho walked further into the hallway, his footsteps echoing throughout. Soon, he reached a storage room labeled "Science Preparation Room." That seemingly hidden room was also the meeting spot for the Literature Club. "It's been a while." As he opened the sliding door and stepped inside, he saw two desks that had been joined together, exactly how they had left them before the break. If anything, it seemed like there was more junk occupying the room. As he waited for the rest of the members to arrive, he opened the window. They were at the canteen, buying snacks for the incoming freshmen without actually knowing if there would be any. "Will they actually come, Mr. Moon?" No matter how many times the club members asked Mr. Moon, he refused to give them an answer. His reason being: "What fun is there in knowing the answer ahead of time?" A shout came from the distance. Juho was familiar with the sound as it tended to sound from time to time. It was either coming from the Athletics Club or from a student writhing from their hatred toward the school. "Hello?" Juho turned around toward the source of the low voice that resonated throughout the room and saw that another person had opened the door to the science room. "This is where the Literature Club meets, right?" the girl asked in a rigid tone, giving off a tense demeanor. A breeze that blew into the room blew across Juho's and the girl's hair and along her skirt. "You got something on your skirt." "Huh?!" she asked, and her voice went up as if she had been caught off guard. With that, Juho added, "You got something on your skirt. Is it chalk?" "Oh. I was on cleaning rotation today…" "We don't have tissues, but we do have gauze. Would you like some?" "Gauze?" "Yep. You know, the stuff that you use to rub alcohol or disinfectant onto your skin. Speaking of which, we have alcohol too." "..." She stood silent, wearing a dumbfounded look. After gesturing for her to come in, Juho walked over toward a drawer amid the piles of junk and took out a piece of gauze. "Here." "Thank you," she bowed as an expression of gratitude and began to scrub away at her forehead with the gauze. "So…" "Yeah?" "This is the Literature Club, right?" Juho nodded to affirm her redundant question. "And I'm guessing you're here to join the club?" "Yes." 'Everyone's going to be so happy about this,' Juho thought as he looked around the room to find a seat for the new member. "Where would be the best spot?" 'Where should I sit her?' he contemplated as each member tended to sit at the same place. The desks were exactly the same as when he first saw them in the science room. "Sit here," he said, bringing the new member to the seat that faced Baron's. As Juho took a seat, she sat quietly and willingly. A breeze blew into the ever so silent room. "So, what made you want to join the Literature Club?" Juho asked in order to break the ice. "I wanted to chill and be lazy," she answered without hesitation. With that, the room sank back into silence, and Juho couldn't help but think of Baron. The moment he opened his mouth to set her free from her illusion, the door suddenly flung open, and the rest of the sophomores rushed in with snacks along with Baron. "Freshman!" Seo Kwang exclaimed cheerfully, but the new member was completely oblivious to him. She was distracted by Baron's appearance. Recognizing her gaze, he opened his mouth quickly to introduce himself, "Baron Kim. Junior." "He-hello. I'm Bo Suk Noh." "Bo Suk?" "Yes, Bo Suk Noh," she reiterated in response to Seo Kwang's murmur. "We have a gem in the club now!" Bom said with a cheerful smile. (TL's Note: "Bo Suk" is the Korean word for gem.) "That was a good one! You really sound like you're part of the Literature Club," Sun Hwa said as she also smiled. From then on, everyone took turns introducing themselves to the new member. Bo Suk studied the atmosphere quietly. She was starting to realize that the Literature Club was not one of the 'lazy clubs.' "Why don't we all sit and open up the snacks?" Juho said as he looked at Bo Suk intently. "Yes, let us. Oh, wait! Aren't we short on seats?" "We have just enough." Then, Sun Hwa nodded as she looked toward the freshman. "You have guts taking Mr. Moon's seat, rookie," Seo Kwang said playfully, and Bo Suk gave Juho an embarrassed look, to which he waved his hand and answered, "You'll be fine. Most likely." "Most likely??" As she was about to jump out of her seat, Bom stepped in to calm her down, "Mr. Moon has a chair of his own. The really comfortable one behind the podium." It was the chair that he had bought during the school festival. While it was hidden behind the podium, it was well maintained. "Here, rookie. Have some snacks," Seo Kwang said as he opened up a bag. Trying not to look awkward, Bo Suk quietly joined them as everyone reached for the snacks that were laid out on the desk. "Are you here alone?" Seo Kwang asked with a piece of cracker in his mouth. "Yes." "You must be the only new member then." With the exception of Bo Suk, everyone laughed light-heartedly. Understanding it as Seo Kwang asking her a question, she opened her mouth and said, "I wouldn't really know, but I do know that I'm the only student in my class who came here." "That's great! Most people want to join a club with their friends," Bom complimented her. However, she remained indifferent and said, "It just happened that way. We just didn't say anything to each other about our decisions." "So, which club did your friend end up joining?" "The Photography Club," Bo Suk said, adding that they weren't close enough to ask each other for things. Because they were still in the beginning of the semester, the freshmen were occupied with adjusting to their new environment. Juho could imagine how she had come to join the Literature Club of all places. "I want to be part of one of the lazy clubs. The Literature Club sounds just like what I am looking for," Bo Suk said, to which her friend responds, "I want to join the Photography Club." That was the end of it. They neither forced each other or made suggestions to one another, and it reflected the distance between the two friends. Unhindered by the difference between her and her friend, Bo Suk walked into the science room alone. While the story itself wasn't anything impressive, her process of ending up at the Literature Club had been rather candid. As the club members conversed comfortably with the freshman, Juho sat and quietly munched on some chips, nodding occasionally. Then, Seo Kwang brought up the subject of books as expected, "Do you have a favorite author or book? What about genre?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with interest. "No," Bo Suk said boldly, making Seo Kwang hesitate. "Nothing? Nobody?" "No." "… You know what? No big deal. Sun Hwa or Baron don't have a favorite book either. You just gotta start somewhere," Seo Kwang said, and she nodded quietly. Then, Sun Hwa decided to take a shot at her, "What about comic books? They're books too, you know?" "I do read some." "Very good. I'll teach you everything there is to know about comic books!" "Gosh! Before you know it, our club's name is gonna change to the 'Comic Book Club,'" Seo Kwang muttered. He must have been secretly hoping for a fellow book lover. As he comforted Seo Kwang half-heartedly, Juho looked over to Bo Suk, quietly eating the snacks. By then, she had to have realized that she was in the wrong kind of club. Yet, she quietly adapted to the reality of it and tried to blend in. Juho became curious as to what kind of stories she would end up writing.

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133 Chapter 133 - A Sparkling Gem 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Now, we'll be taking some time to introduce ourselves to the new member of the club," Mr. Moon said as he sat on the chair that he dragged out from behind the podium. With the exception of Bo Suk, everyone nodded enthusiastically. It was a sign of experience. "Bo Suk Noh." "Yes?" "You choose." While she responded confidently to Mr. Moon, she was puzzled by his choice of words. At that, Mr. Moon explained by using the club members as an example, "You may choose to write your self-introduction out if you don't wish to speak in front of people. What's it going to be?" "Uh… I'll write it out then." "Good. We have a stack of papers over there. Feel free to take as many as you need." "Yes, Mr. Moon." At that moment, Sun Hwa raised her hand and asked, "What about us? What are we gonna do?" "The same thing," Mr. Moon answered with a smile. "Again?!" the club members roared. Who would've thought that they would be writing yet another self-introduction? "It's not just Bo Suk's first time meeting you guys. There's no such a thing as one-way traffic in interpersonal relationships, so you guys should rightfully introduce yourselves to her." "I guess that true…" "But what about you, Mr. Moon?" "I already did it. While I stood behind the podium." Bo Suk studied the expressions on the veteran club members' faces timidly as they grew darker and darker. She must have felt uncomfortable. While looking at her intently, Juho opened his mouth and said, "Fine. It's not even that difficult anyway. Besides, I'm confident that I can do a better job the second time." "Don't get ahead of yourself now. What are you going to write about this time, seasoned mackerel?" Mr. Moon asked. Springing up from her seat, Sun Hwa took the initiative to take a sheet from the stack of papers. Bom followed immediately and grabbed enough paper for herself and Bo Suk. Juho and Seo Kwang took out their own as they had some left from the year before. At that moment, Baron stood tall from his seat. "Are you going to write, Baron?" "Yeah. I am in the Literature Club after all. It doesn't hurt to write from time to time," he answered as he closed his sketchbook and placed the paper on top of it. "What do I write? Ugh, I'm gonna end up being a master in self-introductions at this rate," Seo Kwang grumbled as he picked up his pen. Self-introductions had been a struggle for him since the previous year. "Don't you have more to write about than last year?" Juho asked Seo Kwang. "Eh?!" "You have a goal now." Having understood Juho, Seo Kwang gave no response. What Juho said didn't necessarily apply only to Seo Kwang. From Sun Hwa, who had watched Bom quietly as she had written a self-introduction that had been nearly identical to hers, to Baron, who was writing his very first self-introduction, everyone had to have evolved as writers, hence they were capable of writing better self-introductions. "Well, same goes for you too, doesn't it?" Seo Kwang said quietly "Huh?!" Seo Kwang's voice was filled with playfulness. "What do you think about introducing your second name? Pretending you're Yun Woo, that is." "That doesn't sound bad." "OK. Get set. Write!" Mr. Moon shouted. At that moment, Juho stopped him as he was about to rush out of the room. "Mr. Moon?" "Yes?" "May I go to the computer room when I'm done?" There was a story that Juho had to write, and the computer room had become an environment safe enough to write in. Besides, he would be in school only for so long. In response to Juho's question, Mr. Moon nodded enthusiastically. "Sure, as long as you don't half-ass your way through." "Of course not." As he stepped out of the room, Juho picked up his pen immediately and began to write, starting with his favorite genres of music, Pop, Jazz, Classical, Heavy Metal, and the songs by the woman with the guitar. "He's so fast…" Bo Suk murmured, and Juho's hand came to a sudden halt. "Did you say something?" "Huh?" she asked while wearing a flustered expression. However, Juho resumed as if nothing had happened. "I am on the faster side. You see, I happen to be somewhat of a decent writer." "... Right." "Don't mind him. He's like that," Sun Hwa said as she finished the first line of her self-introduction. Juho flipped to the next page. "Don't even dare to mimic him. It's not possible," Seo Kwang said to Bo Suk. To which Bom answered, "I heard it's still good to write without hesitation. You know, not being afraid when you write." 'Are they telling me to mimic him or not?' Bo Suk asked herself with an even more confused expression on her face. Then, Baron chimed in to clarify, "In other words, write whatever the heck you want." "Ah. I see." As per the advices she had received from the club members, she immersed herself in thought. Unfortunately, her attention was short-lived as she looked up at a member putting down his pen as if he had finished writing. "Well, bye now," Juho said as he rose from his seat. There were ten pages worth of writing on his desk. "Revealing your true self, I see. How did you manage to hold back for so long?" "I didn't have to. I just took it slow, that's all. Besides, isn't it better for you that I'm not here?" Juho was referring to the new volume of 'The Language of God,' to which Seo Kwang answered, "Godspeed, my good sir." With his peer's support, Juho picked up his notebook and writing tools. "Take your time," Juho said to the new member, and then walked out of the room and closed the door. By the time his footsteps faded away completely, Bo Suk opened her mouth and asked, "Just how good of a writer is he?" Locking eyes, Sun Hwa and Bom thought simultaneously, 'As good as Yun Woo, probably?' "We got his autograph." "An autograph?" "He's Juho Woo. You know, the author of 'Grains of Sand,'" Bom said with a mischievous smile. As the freshman expressed her unfamiliarity with it, Seo Kwang explained in a friendly manner, "Most freshmen don't know about the book, most likely." Just as he had said, all of the posters had been retrieved in order to make room on the bulletin board for flyers containing information about after school classes. However, their stories remained in the library. Although the number of visitors had decreased noticeably, they were available to be read at any time. "You should go check it out some time," he added. Seeing that Bo Suk hadn't written anything, Bom asked, "Are you stuck?" "I just don't know where to start. I was kind of distracted by Juho as well," Bo Suk said as she followed Bom's eyes looking at her paper. She brushed her hand down the paper. It was a texture that she was unfamiliar with. Unless one regularly attended a private institute for writing, it was rare for them to get their hands on the graph-like, manuscript paper. "As long as it's about you, you can write just about anything. Things you like or dislike, or you're good or bad at. You can also write about how you came to join the Literature Club, or what you were doing before joining the club." "You can also write about grilled mackerel," Seo Kwang interjected all of a sudden. Threatening him so he wouldn't interrupt, Sun Hwa asked Bo Suk, "Which club were you a part of in middle school?" "I was part of Table Tennis Club." It was a rather unexpected answer. "Table tennis, huh? Was it fun?" "Yes." "That's incredible!" Bom complimented, and Bo Suk waved her hand in denial. Then, Sun Hwa added, "We have a Table Tennis Club, don't we?" With that, the freshman dropped her head slightly. "I lost interest. I was scolded a lot for not trying hard enough back then." "Oh, no. You must have been pretty good then. That would explain why you were being scolded." "Not necessarily. I was actually mediocre," Bo Suk said as she smiled quietly. "A-ha! You're the type who has to be above average with everything, huh?" Seo Wang asked. "So, what brought you to the Literate Club?" "I thought it would be a lazy club." "Ah." "I see." The three veteran club members glanced quietly at Baron, but he paid no attention to them. "Do you not like to write?" Bom asked, but Bo Suk hesiated. Her reason for joining the club was too impure to say that she liked to write, and she was reluctant to tell a sophomore that she didn't. "You can do something else then" "Something else?" "Yeah, like Baron. He's the sole artist in the club." "... I don't follow." "It's exactly as I said. Baron draws." While Bo Suk had been assuming that from his sketchbook or the conversation between the club members', she barely managed to swallow the question, "Then, why isn't he in the Art Club?" "I'm not afraid to be an exception," Baron told her, seeing the confusion that was obvious on Bo Suk's face. Although she didn't quite understand how his answer was relevant to drawing, Bo Suk nodded quietly because it was apparent that Baron was the only exception that stood out in the room. "I'll just stick to writing," she said. Bo Suk had no intention of doing other things. If anything, she was planning on going with the flow. Though she had realized that she was not in a lazy club long ago, she didn't try to change her mind. To her, being in the Literature Club was no more than participating in club activities. She didn't feel the need to go out her way to reconsider her decision. With the help of the club members, she barely managed to start writing. Thankfully, it wasn't all that difficult once she actually started. The beginning was always the most difficult challenge. With that, the sound of scribbling filled about the room. "All done?" Bom asked. She was in charge of collecting the papers and bringing it to Mr. Moon. Nodding, Bo Suk submitted her paper. "Juho took his paper, right?" "Yeah, it's not on his desk." His introduction had to be within his notebook, which he had picked up on his way out. It was a frequent occurrence due to his habit of taking every sheet of manuscript paper with him. As Bom rose from her seat to go upstairs to the computer room, the freshman came into her view. She had asked how good of a writer Juho was. Unfortunately, it was a question that would take more than words to answer. Without seeing with her own eyes, she would have no idea how viciously and desperate Juho wrote. Handing her the stack of papers she had collected, Bom asked, "Do you wanna come with?" "Huh?" "Juho. Aren't you curious? We can collect his paper too while we're there." Although Bo Suk was no longer curious about Juho, she couldn't turn down an offer from an upperclassman, so she rose from her seat. "OK." "Do you know where Mr. Moon is? Do you want me to go with you?" "No, thank you. I know where he is. I'll be back." Although it was her first time going to the computer room, it wasn't all that difficult to find. With a stack of papers in her hand, she walked through the hallway and made her way toward the computer room. Upon arriving, she saw the computers lined up back to back through the windows. She contemplated knocking, but soon concluded that she might disturb him. As she opened the door quietly, she was welcomed by the vicious sound of the keyboard. --- Things started to look better. Juho was in the mid-to-late stages of writing the 'Language of God.' Conflict and resolution, and yet another conflict. The four companions were distinctively different from each other in both personality and wishes. They had different jobs, values, appearances, and names. Conflict existed at every corner. Quietly, Juho took a deep breath. While writing 'The Language of God,' he was feeling a sense of bliss that he had never felt before. Because the world was so massive, he felt the need to match his pace to his work. It was almost like stretching, like using muscles that he hadn't been using. While massaging stiff shoulders accompanied pain and toil, the reward was refreshing. No matter how loud he shouted, it would be barely audible. For that reason, Juho had to focus. Keeping the overall flow of the story in his mind, he marked his way through the forest with pieces of cloth. He didn't forget nor lose anything. It was entirely up to him what kind of creatures lived in that forest or what kind of dangers or events awaited the companions. He concentrated all the more. Broken branches, chipped rocks, unexplainable sounds, the beating heart. He wanted to embody them all in their purest forms in the world that he had created. He wrote. He couldn't afford to lose track of the characters' mentality, so he examined his story carefully for any errors he might have overlooked. Suddenly, the keyboard stopped making noise, and Juho glanced over his monitor. There was a familiar face there. It was Bo Suk, the sparkling gem.

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134 Chapter 134 - A Sparkling Gem 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "What are you doing?" "... Uh… " She hesitated. As he studied her state, he saw the stack of papers in her hand and grasped the situation immediately. "You're here to collect my introduction," Juho said as he took it out of his notebook and handed it to her. Coming to her senses, she quickly took the pages from him. She was wearing a peculiar expression on her face. After returning to his seat, Juho placed his hands on the keyboard to resume writing. Even with Juho's papers, she was standing completely still in the same place. "Did you have something to say?" Juho asked. "Huh?" "Are you just going to stand there?" As Juho asked that, she stared intently at the stacks of paper in her hand. "Are you always like that?" "Like how?" "Just… like that," Bo Suk answered as she gave up looking for a better word. Juho smiled. She seemed like she needed to work on her vocabularies. "I don't really know what you're trying to describe, but it's nothing special." "... You're incredible." "What?" "Nothing. I'm gonna get going now," she said as she bowed to Juho with enough force to blow wind. Juho watched her as she rushed out of the room, and while he was curious, he quickly returned to writing. --- Since then on, Bo Suk adjusted to the Literature Club without any issues. She followed the instructions seamlessly while maintaining a decent relationship with the rest of the club members. However, there was something that bothered Juho, and he had been quietly searching for it. At that moment, the door flung open with a loud noise, and Mr. Moon walked in with a pile of things in his arms. They seemed quite familiar to the veteran club members. "OK. Bo Suk, you get the privilege of looking through the works of my previous students." It was the compilations. "We want to look too!" "You guys need to be planning for what to write in the future." "Oh! C'mon, Mr. Moon!" No matter how much the club members complained, Mr. Moon shook his head and stood his ground. "Well… if it's part of the process, then feel free," he said. "Yes! It's essential!" "Whatever floats your boat," he said as he sat on his chair and opened a book as if he couldn't even see his students. The title read 'The Language of God.' Despite knowing that he was reading in front of the author, Mr. Moon seemed to pay no attention to what he was doing. While Juho remained indifferent, Seo Kwang poked at his sides repeatedly. At that moment, Sun Hwa began to complain to Mr. Moon as he had just started reading, "Mr. Moon, aren't you being too loose with us since we became sophomores?" The sophomores in the Literature Club had been each working on a free-topic composition. They had to plan everything out from beginning to end, from the topic to the genre. "It's almost time for you all to be independent." "Still!" Bo Suk was the only club member who was listening to Mr. Moon's lecture, and Sun Hwa seemed to miss those days. "This is the compilation you guys made, right?" Bo Suk said as she picked up one of them, and Baron's cover design became visible. Five distinct colors were mixing with each other. Without hesitation, she opened the compilation and flipped through the pages one by one. Juho already knew that the club members were merely pretending to look indifferent while feeling incredibly proud internally. "Wow." At the sound of the quiet exclamation, all eyes fell on the source of the sound. Glancing over her shoulders, Seo Kwang saw that she was reading Juho's work. At which, he explained without hesitation, "He wrote that in a subway station." "A subway station? Did you all go outside?" "Yep. That was when we were learning to write only up to the beginning of the main event." With that, her eyes widened. "Does that mean the story ends at the beginning of the main event?" "Yep." As Bo Suk turned her eyes in Juho's direction, Juho gave her a gentle nod. She seemed rather attached to the story. "How sad. I was really getting into it." "It was for the lesson." "Still. I want to read the entire story." "I know. Bummer." Juho didn't offer to write the rest of the story until the end. It was the story about an elephant and a woman who suffered from a phobia towards it. The story ended abruptly as the woman was on the verge of running into the elephant that had escaped the zoo. Because she couldn't do anything to change Juho's mind, she only smacked her lips quietly. Seo Kwang was fully aware of what she was feeling. "I know what you're feeling. Oh, the desperation! You feel your body twisting from within, because you want to read it so much, right? Do you feel like your heart's shrinking?" "No, not to that degree," Bo Suk answered. Despite her brief answer, it was clear that she was still attached to the story. She looked intently at the compilation. "I can see that everyone's worked really hard." "Of course!" "Ugh! It was hell." Sun Hwa and Seo Kwang answered in an exaggerated manners. When Juho looked at Bo Suk, she was wearing the same expression she had been wearing at the computer room. It was rather peculiar. "You've been learning quickly yourself!" Bom complimented her, being oblivious to the look on her face. As the expression faded from Bo Suk's face, Juho also took his eyes off of her and agreed with Bom. Compared to when she had written her first self-introduction, Bo Suk had made huge improvements. She acquainted herself with the act of writing rather quickly. "You must be transcribing a lot," Juho asked. "So-so. Actually, not at all," Bo Suk answered, shaking her head. At her emphatic answer, Juho asked her no more and nodded. "Man, I miss the lessons. Mr. Moon, can we play word chain? That was so much fun," Sun Hwa grumbled. Freedom was a rather heavy burden, and she wanted to run away from the fact that she had to be responsible for her own work from beginning to end. In response to Sun Hwa, Mr. Moon took his eyes off of his book and said, "Why don't you play amongst yourselves?" "Eh? Play what? Word chain?" "No, the lessons." Seeing the baffled look on the members' faces, he added, "There's not much to it. You just have to write a lot, and if you want to be a better writer, you can't get sick of writing. If you don't want to get sick of it, it has to be fun. That's why we played word chain or met at the subway station. Now, ask yourselves: 'How can I make writing more fun?'" "Uh…" Sensing that yet another responsibility had been added onto him, Seo Kwang let out a sigh and said toward Sun Hwa, "Thanks for nothing." "At least we get to enjoy the process, right?" she answered quietly with guilt all over her face. "That doesn't sound like a terrible idea. Let's think about it. What can we do?" Bom said, smiling. "Nothing screams more "fun" than books. Let us read, my friends, and then we'll write a report on it." "Speak for yourself," Sun Hwa said and then suggested, "Speaking of reports, why don't we just go watch something while we're at it?" "You mean something entirely different? Like a musical?" "That could be an option." "The tickets are really expensive though…" The fact that it cost money was a crucial matter to be discussed. "What about a movie? It's not free, but it's much more affordable." "That's true, but what if we end up writing something that reads like a book report?" Bom asked, and Sun Hwa nodded in agreement. "Good point. Seems like you don't want to write a report?" "Kind of. I'd much rather write a story." "Why don't we we decide the genre on our own, then?" Juho suggested. Because it would allow them to write in the fashion that they wanted, the club members agreed. "OK, so what should we watch?" As everyone was lost in thought, Baron chimed in, "How about you guys?" "Huh?" "You guys, yourselves." His pencil pointed toward Juho. He had been drawing the club members frequently, and Juho caught on immediately. "We make each other the main character." "Make each other the main character?" "Yeah. Let's make each other the protagonist, whether we're writing a book report or a novel." The club members expressed interest. Being the primary character of a story brought about excitement. Everyone looked at each other, curious about who would write about whom. "That sounds like an idea," Mr. Moon interjected. With the affirming words of their teacher, the club members jumped right into setting rules, until… "Make sure to include the freshman." "Eh?! Is Bo Suk that good of a writer?" Alerted of the news, Sun Hwa asked. Mr. Moon smiled quietly and said, "You guys get to choose the genre for yourselves. I'm sure Bo Suk has what it takes." "In that case, why don't we include Baron while we're at it?" Sun Hwa asked as she looked at him, but he waved his hand and turned her down. "I'm gonna stick to drawing." Therefore, a total of five people decided to participate. Now, they had to decide who they were going to write about, so they discussed methods by which they would reach a decision. "Rock-paper-scissors?" "Should we draw straws?" "Let's pick a king and do as what he says." As they struggled to agree, Bom opened her mouth and said, "Should we each decide this on our own too?" "On our own?" "Yeah. Everyone gets to write about whoever they want. Some might end up writing about the same person, but on the other hand, there might be a person who nobody writes about." "I like it. It's simple." With that, the five looked at each other as if probing. Amid the excitement, Juho was the only calm person. Suddenly, Seo Kwang poked at his sides and whispered, "Hey, pick me. Make me the protagonist." He was rather direct in his appeal. Of course, Sun Hwa wouldn't have let it slide. "Don't you dare to be sneaky. Juho, there are others around you." "Consider me!" "Who stands out here the most?" Bom and Baron each took turns to chime in. "Feel free to include me." With the addition of Mr. Moon, Juho mulled it over, and then… "OK. I've made up my mind." "Already?" "How can you make everything so simple?" "Who?" As questions poured out, Juho gave them a puzzling answer. "Bo Suk Noh." A perplexed look appeared on her face. "Me?" "Congratulations, Bo Suk." "Lucky!" Sun Hwa and Bom said simultaneously. Though they sounded playful, it was clear that they had hoped to be called. Bo Suk had become the lucky recipient of a prize that she knew nothing about. What were the odds of being chosen as the protagonist in a Yun Woo story?" As the rest of the club members comforted one another, Juho added, "You guys each made an appearance already." "Eh?" Ignoring the confusion on the club members' faces, Juho looked at Bo Suk and decided to write a short story. Though it would be about twenty pages long, Juho felt she was better suited for a short, yet powerful story. The fact that an author decided to write about a person meant that they had to be able to understand the choices made by the person. Because Juho had been curious about Bo Suk, it would be the perfect opportunity to get to know her better. It was time for his favorite activity in the entire world: writing. Accepting the result, the rest of the club members went on to decide the person they wanted to write about. "I choose Seo Kwang," Bom said. He tended to be clear about his preferences, so getting to know him would be a smooth sail for her. "I choose Baron. You wouldn't mind, would ya? I guess it'd be better to write a story," Sun Hwa said. Baron smiled confidently and asked her to portray him as "cool as possible." "I'll go with Bom. We'll figure out the style over time," Seo Kwang said. Lastly, it was Bo Suk's turn. Having been hesitant up to that point, she chose Juho in order to return the favor. "Juho Woo, huh." Despite having known him for the past year, there was a reason why the club members weren't choosing him. "Have fun." The club members wished the fearless freshman good luck, and Bo Suk couldn't help but feel insecure about her choice.

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135 Chapter 135 - A Sparkling Gem 4

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Sigh," somebody let out heavily, and Juho looked up at the girl sitting in front of him. She was sitting facing him, gesturing for him to ask questions about her. "That's a heavy sigh." "Aren't you concerned?" Bom asked, and Juho's head leaned sideways. "About what?" "Bo Suk?" "She's doing fine," Juho said calmly as he closed the book in his hand quietly. Bom shook her head and answered, "I don't think she's really enjoying it here." "Really?" he asked calmly, and Bom's eyes squinted into a glare. She was seeing right through him. She knew that Juho knew. At the sound of Juho's chuckle, Bom let out yet another sigh. "The Literature Club is like a resting place for us. I hope Bo Suk sees it like that too." Bom thought back on Bo Suk and her attitude. While she always had the choice of doing something besides from writing, she just wrote quietly without taking the liberty to choose. She was rigid and tense, as if she was always nervous. "Maybe she's feeling uncomfortable being surrounded by older students?" "I doubt it." "How do you know?" "Because she's my protagonist." Bom's eyes widened, and as she was about to open her mouth to say something, the teacher came into the class. The first period was math. Bom looked back at Juho, but what returned in place of an answer was his shrug. --- "I'll be going now." Mr. Moon nodded half-heartedly, and Juho went out to the hallway after picking up his notebook and writing tools, thinking about what he needed to write. He already had an outline for the story about Bo Suk and he was nearly halfway into his writing. As Juho started writing after turning the computer on, a loud thud sounded in the room. The keyboard sound stopped. Unfortunately, he had grown rather familiar with the occurrence as of late. Looking up, Juho saw Bo Suk's face on the window. "Just come inside," Juho called for her. Then... "'Scuse me." She walked into the computer room without hesitation. She had been visiting the computer room frequently under the pretext of getting to know her protagonist, and they each asked and answered questions about each other. "The weather's nice out." "Yes, it is." "That cloud over there reminds me of a sweet potato." "It looks more like a dog's stool to me." Their conversations remained mostly shallow. As she approached him, Juho raised his hand and stopped her from coming any closer. "My work is a closely-guarded secret. I have to ask you to maintain that distance." "I'm aware. I've yet to come any closer." "Did you think I wouldn't notice you sneaking your way toward me?" While maintaining the distance between them, Juho moved his hands busily, and the fierce sound of the keyboard filled the room again. He was writing a story about her, and writing with the protagonist in front of him made for an experience similar to painting a portrait. It was rather fun. Although it was slightly more difficult to focus, it was a manageable inconvenience. "At the earliest, the story should be finished by the end of today, or tomorrow at the latest." He had planned to write a short story from the start, which wouldn't have been a long process by any means. At what sounded like a declaration, sadness appeared on her face. "I still have a ways to go with mine. I know nothing about you." "Haven't we had enough conversations?" "They were never all that substantial." "I didn't feel that way." "... I think I get why the other club members were giving me a pitiful look." "Really?" "Yes. You're nearly impossible to read." Her tone was about the only thing that was polite. She was wearing a sullen look. In the end, Juho decided to help her. "You said you used to be in the Table Tennis Club?" he asked as he moved his hands. Because the outline had already been finished, all he had to do was write the story. "Yes," she answered briefly with her eyes fixed on Juho's hands still. As he wrote about her, Juho came to understand the mysterious look on her face better: awe-inspired, yet disappointed at someone. He was also aware that her time in the Table Tennis Club was not one of the subjects she was willing to talk about. For that reason, instead of asking her questions, he told her his story in order to make the writing process easier for her. "I heard from someone that one should hold a racket like they're holding a pencil." "Huh?" she asked, caught off guard because she had expected more questions. "Apparently, you have to hold the racket like you're holding a pencil. I think that's why I was somewhat drawn to the sport. I'm a person who enjoys writing." "But it has nothing to do with writing." "I write with a pen too, from time to time." The look on her face made it obvious that she wasn't sure what to do with what she was being told. Juho chuckled as he looked over his monitor and saw the expression on her face. Understanding what the protagonist liked and disliked was among the most basic skills of an author. Yet, Bo Suk didn't seem to realize the opportunity that Juho had set before her eyes. "You're almost done with your story, right? I guess that means there won't be time for us to ask questions face to face." "I don't know. I have another story I need to work on. I do prefer to be left alone as much as possible when I write." To be frank, he was willing to answer her questions until he was finished with his story. He was willing to interact with her even when he wasn't writing. There were plenty of options, yet Juho didn't give any of them to Bo Suk because she was hesitant. She was yet to ask the question that she had been meaning to ask, and at times, realizing that there wouldn't be a next time acted as a source of motivation. Juho stared at her intently, and before long, Bo Suk asked, "How are you able to focus on writing like that?" Juho moved his hands, and the sound of the keyboard echoed throughout the room. "I just… can?" "... I'd like for you to answer me more sincerely, even if it's just half as much as your concentration." "That was a genuinely sincere answer." With that, her expression hardened. "Sun Hwa told me that you're always calm and not fazed by anything. She also told me that she finds that annoying about you." "I see." "I was curious when she told me that the first time, but I think I'm starting to get it." "Finding something that resonates with other people is a wonderful thing," Juho said to change the subject. "How's writing been for you? Are you enjoying it?" She gave him no answer. "It's not all that fun at the moment, right? I understand. You thought you'd be in a lazy club." "That's not necessarily true. I'm used to it." She looked away for the first time. "I only joined the Table Tennis Club because of my friend." "That's not entirely a bad thing," Juho said light-heartedly, but a perplexed look appeared on Bo Suk's face. "I'm surprised that you're not saying anything." "Should I be?" "I'm just saying. Most people would've had something to say," she said. Then, she hesitated and added, "I find this place somewhat odd." "You mean the computer room?" "The Literature Club." "Odd how?" "The fact that there's an artist in the club, first of all." It made sense from her point of view. "Baron is quite eccentric, but he's also brave. He's not afraid of being alone." In other words, he was afraid of feeling fear of solitude. "I'm sure you'll get used to it eventually," Juho said. With that, she looked at him intently and said, "You're a bit of an oddball too." "Am I?" "Yes." Juho realized what she had really wanted to say. She was anxious, not knowing what to do in an environment where choices and unique elements coexisted. She had been thinking of herself as someone who was completely isolated. "Everyone's exactly like you," Juho said, and her expressions hardened all the more. "I don't have what it takes to fight for what I want," she said as faint disappointment appeared in her eyes. That was her sentiment toward herself. She was brusque and didn't seem to enjoy being in the Literature Club all that much. On the other hand, she didn't bother to do something else, like Baron. "Honestly, I thought about leaving." "The Literature Club?" "Yes. I'm not like everyone there." The reason for her discomfort had nothing to do with being surrounded by older students or the fact that she didn't enjoy writing. The issue had always lain within her. Effort. It was the very thing that was holding her back. "But what stopped you?" "..." She didn't leave because she wanted to stay. For that reason, Juho didn't feel the need to be concerned for her. She was ready and willing to face her predicament. "We've been talking for quite some time now." In order to understand the other person better, they had exchanged information with each other. However, those conversations had been shallow at best. "Are you ashamed of making an effort, or envious of the ability to make an effort?" Juho's story would be finished by the end of that day or the end of the following day at the latest, and just as he had been before, he was ready to listen to her then. Having conversed with him for quite some time, she was also fully aware of Juho's intentions. As he looked at her intently, Bo Suk opened her mouth and… "So, when I was young..." … began to tell her story. "... we were having a competition in P.E. class. Whoever hung from the pull-up bar the longest would win, and I didn't want to lose." The sound of typing resonated throughout the room. "My hands started to hurt, and my body felt heavier and heavier, but I clenched my teeth and tried as hard as I could not to fall. But that's when I saw the look on my teacher's face." Leaving behind her dignity and composure, she fought desperately on the pull-up bar. Then, as the teacher came into view, she wished dearly for them to declare the outcome of the competition. She wanted to be complimented for her effort. The teacher was the sole referee and had the power to determine the outcome of her effort. "It was a sneer." The teacher was sneering at their own student. 'What are you trying so hard for?' Bo Suk realized that her effort was no more than laughingstock, and she still remembered it vividly. "From then on, I tried as hard as I could not to make an effort in front of others. It was the same thing in the Table Tennis Club. I wanted to be someone average without having to try so hard. I wanted to seem sophisticated and graceful," Bo Suk said. Juho was reminded of the racket that was held like a pencil. A tired looked appeared on her face. "But that time, my teacher was telling me to try harder, saying that he'd never seen me making an effort in anything. Something didn't add up. I clearly put in the effort, but people just blurt out what they think just because it's visible to their eyes. I didn't know what my teacher wanted from me, so I quit," Bo Suk said. That had to be the reason why she thought she was different from the rest of the club members. "When I read the compilation, I saw how much time and effort had gone into it, and I was astonished. It didn't even occur to me to mock what I was seeing because I simply thought that I was different from everyone else." She found herself drowning deeper in confusion. 'Why am I different from them?' Then, locking eyes with Juho, she said, "I fell for you when I saw you writing." A sudden confession. "I realized for the first time how charming it is to work hard. That's why I chose you as the protagonist of my story. You're charming like a protagonist." Juho remained silent. To which, she added, "I want to be like you." So, how are you able to write so hard?" she asked again. After he stopped writing, he looked up briefly at the ceiling and said, "I was scolded by my teacher today." While it was a sudden change of subject, Juho pushed on without commenting on it, "I was distracted. Frankly, I do that quite often. My attention was elsewhere in class, and I'm reflecting on my habit." As a dumbfounded look appeared on her face, Juho added, "In other words, I'm not any different from you." "That's not what I meant. You're incredible. You're different from everyone," she answered. "We're all different from each other." "But you work so hard! I'm sure you were mocked and hassled, but you still put in the effort. That's what I really want to." She was speaking faster. It was a sign of excitement, and Juho took notice of her behavior. "There's nothing to it," Juho said light-heartedly. "You put in the effort because you want to, as much as you want. That's it." A shout came from the distance. It was coming from the schoolyard, and he had heard the same sound when he first met Bo Suk. The shout came whenever it wished to. "There's nothing noble or disgraceful about effort. What sense does that make when I work hard because I want to?" Bo Suk blinked awkwardly, and her eyes sparkled. "That's why you don't do things when you're told to do them and do things when you're told not to." Her lips were trembling, but no words came out of it. "Don't be ashamed. If writing isn't for you, then you don't have to force yourself. If you want to write just as well, then you do just that. You do what you want." She remembered what Baron said to her not too long before, "Write whatever the heck you want." 'Is that really OK?' a slight sense of anxiety seeped into her. Joining the Literature Club was her way of running away from her issues. Unlike the rest of the club members, she felt that her motives were impure. She felt that she was different and that she didn't have the privilege of exercising such freedom. "... Those words are a lot easier for you to say. The reason I'm here is…" Then, their conversation came to a halt as a faint voice sounded in the distance. Still, Juho was able to predict what she was about to say. He rose from his seat. The computer had been switched off long ago, and he pulled out his flash drive. "I thought this would be one of the lazy clubs too," Juho said as he felt her gaze. "When Seo Kwang and I first met, we would tell each other that being in a lazy club wouldn't be all that bad. We'd be able to do whatever we wanted, so he said that he'd just read to his heart's content. Sun Hwa joined because she didn't recognize the Comic/Cartoon Research Club to be legitimate, and Bom just followed her. Baron had already made up his mind when he joined, and you don't see him writing to this day." Everyone was hardly any different, and they stumbled their way through until they each found their own path. "What do you want to do?" Juho asked with a smile.

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136 Chapter 136 - A Sparkling Gem 5

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Bo Suk remained silent for a while. "I don't know," she said calmly. She wasn't embarrassed. "But I do know that I want to do a good job writing about you," she added. "Then, you do just that." Bo Suk smiled at his light-hearted remark. As a large, dog's stool-like cloud floated by in the sky, Juho thought about how the protagonist in his story would see that cloud. "It does kind of look like a dog's stool." "Right?" "Well, I'm gonna get going now. Feel free to use any computer." Leaving Bo Suk on her own, Juho left the computer room. She didn't follow him. His footsteps echoed throughout the hallway. Juho was no different from Bo Suk. He had returned to the past as if he had been washed ashore at the Han River. He was struggling to lead a life that was different from his past, all without any particular goal. Wavering and steadying himself, happy and sad, relieved and afraid. His life was rather hectic. However, it didn't stop him from writing. With the finished story in his hand, Juho walked down the stairs. --- "There's a construction going on across the street from the bookstore." "What's coming in?" "A famous cafe, apparently. You know, the one with the bird logo. People have been raving about it opening in Korea." "That was a bird? I thought it was some sort of monster." It was a famous cafe that used a mythical, half-woman, half-bird creature as its logo. As Seo Kwang told him the location, Juho realized that it was near the bookstore that he visited frequently. "Did you do something bad?" Seo Kwang asked, giving Juho a side-eye. As they conversed in the hallway, Juho immediately realized who was watching him. "She's watching you like a hungry predator. She's scaring me." The person Seo Kwang murmured about was none other than Bo Suk. Since their last conversation, she had been appearing around Juho to observe him no matter where he was. Despite being seen by the entire Literature Club, she didn't let up. "It's gotten better though. She used to follow us without even eating her lunch." Without even talking to him, Bo Suk had been watching from afar. Although he offered to answer any of her questions, she shook her head and turned him down, claiming that she was making observational notes. While Juho was cooperating with her to the best of his abilities, he couldn't deny that it was getting bothersome. "This must be how Baron felt," Juho said with a sigh. He started to understand what Baron might have felt like when he had been hassled by the club members. As Seo Kwang snickered, a voice sounded from behind them, "Juho." Surprisingly, it was Bo Suk. She seemed to be in a better mood than usual. "I read 'Grains of Sand.' It was great. It really stirred up my interest in literature. Speaking of which, could you give me a recommendation?" "Ah! Rookie! You know your books! Yes, yes. What kind of book would you like to read? I have quite a few of them, so don't hesitate to ask to borrow them!" Seo Kwang answered on Juho's behalf. Then, Bo Suk answered with a slightly put off face. "Well… I guess I'll start with a short story. Something similar to 'Grains of Sand,'" she said, expressing her preference clearly. However, Seo Kwang had a mischievous look on his face for some reason. "Seems like Yun Woo or Won Yi Young are the authors you're looking for." "Yun Woo? But he's only written full-length novels." "I promise you. It'll be closer to what you're looking for than anything else." Juho quietly watched his friend at work, and after nodding in affirmation, she walked to the stairs. She had the finished draft of her work in her hand. Writing about "Juho Woo" proved to be a difficult challenge. As a person who wasn't capable of writing even a short story, she had chosen to write an observational assessment With Juho as the subject, she recorded her observations, most of them of his habits. 'He smiles often. He looks up at the sky often. He never complains about the school lunch that is notorious for being unpalatable. He types incredibly fast. He's always calm. He becomes ferocious when he writes. He tends to stare at someone intently. He writes memos on his notepad. He reads a lot, although not as much as Seo Kwang.' She was also aware that the cloud that appeared like a dog's stool to her appeared like a sweet potato to him. Although she had wanted to find out what kind of books he was into, her efforts had gone in vain because of Seo Kwang. At the end of her list of seemingly insignificant information, she wrote her thoughts: 'In person, he's the most friendly and charming person I've ever met at school." "Mr. Moon?" "Yeah," he answered Bo Suk half-heartedly. He was lost in a book, and the neatly printed letters came into her view. "Here's my draft." "So, you managed to pull it off. Good job," he said as he took the papers from her hand. "He's a real stickler, isn't he?" "Somewhat. It was impossible to read his thoughts." "That's his charm." As she agreed with Mr. Moon, she asked him about another stack of papers in hand. "What's that?" "Your draft," he gave yet another half-hearted answer. However, she caught on immediately that it was Juho's story about her. "May I take a look?" she asked respectfully with her both hands forward, and Mr. Moon reluctantly handed her the papers. It was obvious that he had been meaning to read them first. "Thank you," she said as she took the papers from his hand. 'It was a gem that sparkled on its own. Everyone wanted and coveted after it, but it wasn't long before they all turned away from it. The gem wasn't sparkling for them, and it couldn't be worn as a jewelry. People grumbled, saying, "That's one stubborn gem."' "A stubborn gem," Bo Suk's eyes lingered on that sentence, and Mr. Moon asked, "It's beautiful, isn't it?" She nodded enthusiastically. "I want to be able to write like this," she said as she was inspired to something. It was a story about the son of a pencil factory owner who had a passion for table tennis. "That depends on how much work you put into it." "Of course," she said smiling. "I'll do my best." With that, she went out of the room and then out to the schoolyard. The pull-up bars appeared in front of her. No one was around them. Mimicking someone she knew, she looked up at the sky. She knew the secret behind the gem in Juho's story. It sparkled because of the sun, the source of light in this world. "Bright." A sweet-potato shaped cloud floated by. --- "It's bright out," Myung Joo said. Feeling nervous, he took off his sunglasses and went inside the theater, where he was greeted by familiar faces. Sang Young and his crew were making an official announcement about his movie that day. Following the staff, Myung Joo was brought to the waiting room. He had already stopped by a famous beauty salon for his make up. It all felt too unfamiliar. While he wouldn't be getting much screen time, Yun's brother was a character that had a lasting presence in the readers' minds. Although it was natural that he was receiving so much attention for his role, he was unfamiliar with being on the receiving end of that attention. Myung Joo remembered his last encounter with Yun Woo, the author of 'Trace of a Bird.' Despite being a high school student, he gave a stronger impression as an author than a student. In other words, the high school side of him was covered by his presence as Yun Woo. Then, he had a powerful realization. "So, this is the person who wrote the book, and I get to act out a story that was written by him." "Myung Joo, are you here?" a voice sounded as the door opened. It was Sang Young Ju. Unlike his usual attire of black T-shirt and jeans, he was dressed in semi-formal wear. Without hesitation, Myung Joo rose from his seat and greeted the director. "No, no. Stay in your seat," Sang Young said as he sat across from the actor. "This is your first time being part of something like this, right? You don't have to be so nervous." "Yes. It still feels surreal to be honest." "There's nothing to it. They ask you questions, and you answer them. That's it," Sang Young said as he removed his uncomfortable jacket. In that case, what Myung Joo would say would carry significant weight. The actor nodded quietly. In order to ease him up, Sang Young made small talk with him and then lowered his voice to emphasize, "Just to make sure…" "Yes?" "You know about Yun Woo, right?" Myung Joo nodded at once. He was well aware of the sensitive nature of the author's identity. Seeing that he had no intention of mentioning anything about his identity and that he was aware of the sensitivity of the matter, Sang Young smiled with satisfaction and moved on to another subject. It was mostly about his wife, Soo Jung Choi. Recognizing that his story had an calming effect, Myung Joo listened to him intently. "Mr. Ju, are you here?" "Oh! Ji Hye!" An attractive actress in a clean cut formal wear walked into the room. Her name was Ji Hye Goo. The actress and actor exchanged a brief greeting. Due to their roles, there was no interaction between them on set, so they had often watched each other's performances from afar. Because of a scene that involved burying a dead body, she had always been covered in dirt, unlike her current appearance. "Yun Woo isn't coming, right?" "Of course not." She asked the director about Yun Woo from time to time. The fierce conversation between the director who closely guarded his secret and the actress who didn't let up was well known among the crew. "Thanks for the invite, you two," Ji Hye said playfully. The news of the director, writer, and the actor who played the brother meeting Yun Woo spread quickly, mostly about the thoughts and intentions Yun Woo had had in creating that character. To be more accurate, it was gossip that Sang Young had spread as means of marketing the movie under the author's consensus of leaving out any detailed description of him. When she heard that, she grew all the more excited and curious about the mysterious author. "We didn't have a choice. We needed help." "I was having a hard time getting the scene right, too." "But you, Ji Hye, your acting is top-notch!" "Don't change the subject, Mr. Ju," the actress said. Seeing that the director wasn't going to open up anytime soon, she moved on to the actor. "You saw him too, right? Yun Woo? What does he look like?" "It's hard to say." Her skin sparkled brightly when she talked. "Ugh, seriously!? You too, Myung Joo!?" As Myung Joo smiled awkwardly, Sang Young groaned from the side. "We're going to be flooded with questions in a moment here. Have mercy, Ji Hye." "I know exactly what you're going to say: 'I prefer to keep that to myself.'" "You know me so well," Sang Young said. Her impersonation was quite impressive. Though they went back and forth for quite a while, the director didn't budge. In the end, she let up and said, "Frankly, I do believe that it's most ideal to meet the author through their work, just like myself." The actress on screen. The author of a book. There were similarities. "Really?" "Yes. Especially for authors like Yun Woo, who keep putting out amazing books back to back. That was my reason for asking. I have no intention of meeting him in person. Besides, it's fun to hear it from someone else. I get to think whatever I want and judge it for myself." Having debuted at an early age, Ji Hye had climbed her way to stardom. From the streets, to the TV, and to cell phones, she was a commonly seen figure in advertisements. People both envied and yearned for her, in reality and on the internet. Myung Joo resolved himself. He was about to be exposed to the masses in many different ways. Just as he had judged those around him, he would be judged in the same way. Then, the actress' smile brightened the room. "What was Yun Woo like?" Sang Young's hearty laughter resounded in the waiting room. "I prefer to keep that to myself!" With that, he jumped from his seat and told Myung Joo, "I'll be going now. Break a leg." "Alright, Mr. Ju." Just like that, Sang Young successfully escaped the waiting room, leaving the actor on his own. While the actress snickered at the director's ludicrous exit, Myung Joo couldn't do anything but look away.

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137 Chapter 137 - The Trace of a Bird 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Oh, yeah! Hey, did you read that article?" Seo Kwang asked as he turned toward Juho, and the clacking of the keyboard stopped. With the exception of Bo Suk, the other club members had been coming up to the computer lab one by one to use a computer. When Juho looked at Seo Kwang with the same glaring eyes he had been using to stare at the monitor, Seo Kwang said in a murmur, "It's recess man…" "I didn't say anything. I was about to take a fiver myself," Juho said. Rotating his stiff shoulders, Juho thought of the books he had read recently. However, what came out of his mouth had nothing to do with books. "So, about that article?" he asked and thought, 'Which one is he talking about?' As he waited patiently, a corner of Seo Kwang's mouth turned up. "They announced the release date for the 'Trace of a Bird' movie." "Oh, that." Although Juho had already been informed by Sang Young over the phone, he didn't go out of his way to elaborate. "People are already getting antsy. The cast is really impressive too. I guess it's only fair considering how beefy of a novel the original is." Then, a voice sounded from the side, "I'm not expecting much." It was Baron. Though he sounded calm, his affection toward the original was apparent in those words. "Really?" "Honestly, I'm not expecting a whole lot either," Seo Kwang answered Juho. Baron and Seo Kwang got along quite well. "It's hard turning such a long book into a movie." "And I'm sure there will be parts that get left out. I love every scene and sentence in that book, and it pains me to think about that." Juho was aware of what the two were wanting to say. "I turned it down at first." "Oh, yeah! I remember reading an article it back then too: 'Yun Woo turns down offer for film adaptation.' Man, I still can't believe that same Yun Woo is sitting right in front of me. Tell us more!" "There's not much to it." At the sound of the name "Yun Woo," even Bom and Sun Hwa started to show interest. "Did you ever visit the set?" Bom asked cautiously. "No, I didn't." "Why not? You could've met the celebrities in person! The actor who plays 'Yun' is super good-looking," Sun Hwa said without hiding her feelings. The actor she was referring to would often play leading roles in the various dramas she watched. Being one of her favorite actors, his fame was growing due to him having had started as a child actor. "I think he'll be a great fit for the role," Sun Hwa said as she covered her face with her hands. Bom agreed and brought up yet another actor, "I'm a little concerned for the other actor, the one playing the brother." At that moment, the actor's dull appearance crossed Juho's mind. "Oh! Myung Joo Mu, right? I've never seen him before." "Right?" The brother was such a strong character in the book, so I thought the role would go to a famous actor. It was kind of unexpected." "He got that role through an audition, so I think that he'll be a decent actor." "You think so?" Then, Seo Kwang interjected, "Speaking of which, casting Ji Hye Goo was a great move." "She's the one who buries the bird, right?" "Yep. She's a big star, but she's known for her action sequences too. That positive image of hers really suits her role." "Yeah! She's gorgeous and stylish. She's got the best of both worlds." Juho had always portrayed the actress' role as "the role that involves burying a carcass" in his book. Burying carcasses was a daily task for her, and it usually took place at night. Yun's encounter with her brings him a critical realization. "They do have pretty similar images," Juho said, and the club members responded excitedly. "Wow! Really!?" "That's it. The author has spoken." Juho nodded. It was inevitable that celebrities would have careers with images attached to them, and as for Ji Hye Goo, her image was of a talented actress who was both bright and positive. In the book, she was the only creature that shone brightly in the dark of the night. When Juho was writing about her, he had frequently thought of the image of a firefly. There were just some people who tended to shine brighter at night, and the actress definitely had a lot in common with the character she was playing. "How are they similar?" "Maybe it's because I'm more familiar with the character." "What's familiar about the character?" Juho had another reason for saying that the actress shared a similar image with her role. She was familiar to him because she had played the exact same role in the past. Before he fell into the river, she had played the same character in the movie. Although her interpretation of the character had been quite different from now, the fact that she had played the same role in the past remained the same. In the past movie, Yun had been her lover, and it had left both the audience and Juho with much to be desired. Juho had wished that the two characters had been a bit more distant from each other. He had hoped the director and the filming crew had understood his intention for the characters better. It wasn't out of mere convenience that Yun exchange conflicting words with her at night with a deep pit between them. 'It should look different this time around,' he thought. "They're not gonna make her date Yun, are they?" Seo Kwang cringed at the anxious thought that suddenly rose to the surface. "They might," Juho said with a smile. "If that really happens, I won't ever forgive the director for what he did. 'Trace of a Bird' is just not the kind of book, and she's just not that kind of character!" Seo Kwang was getting quite worked up despite it having not actually happened. Out of nowhere, he placed his hand on Juho's shoulder and said, "You have to stop him. You can't let them mess with your work like that!" "What are you talking about?" a voice sounded as the door flung open, and the room sank into silence. It was Bo Suk. "Did something to happen to Juho's books?" Seo Kwang shook his head in a hurry, and without asking any further, she went on to explain the reason for her visit, "I was told to check if you guys were goofing around." "What!? Who does Mr. Moon think we are? That's disappointing!" "And I see that he was right." "This is a discussion, all right!? A serious discussion about a book." With that, the chatter about the movie suddenly turned into a serious discussion. "Aren't you lonely being the only person sitting through his lectures?" Bom asked. "It's OK. Being alone isn't all that bad, it turns out," she said with a smile. "You're starting to sound like Baron." "It's a good mindset to have," Baron said with a satisfied smile. Then, she walked toward Bom and asked, "Bom, did you hear? They announced the release date for the 'Trace of a Bird' movie." "Oh, yeah! I heard. Why?" "I wanted to go watch it. Would you like to go with me?" "That sounds good, but I already made plans to go watch it with Sun Hwa." "Let's go together. I'll buy you some popcorn!" Sun Hwa said enthusiastically, and in no time, the three went on to deciding what they would have for dinner. "... How's movie night sound?" "You should go with them. I'm planning on going on my own," Juho said. "Why? I'm curious to see how you'd react to the movie!" "You should be watching the movie at a movie theater. Why even bother looking at me?" Then, Juho rested his chin on his hand. He wanted to watch the movie in peace, alone and uninterrupted. At the emphatic urges from his friend, Seo Kwang let up as he smacked his lips, and then moved on to striking up a conversation with Baron. A few days later. Juho saw the ecstatic look on the three girls' faces. "It was sooo good!" "It was amazing!" "Yeah!" 'What's going on?' Juho wondered and caught on immediately as he saw them crowded around Bom's seat. "Is the movie out already?" "Hey! You shouldn't be the one asking that?!" Looking enthusiastic, Sun Hwa opened her mouth as if she had a lot to say, but held back and remained quiet. "It is out. You should go watch it, Juho. It was really good," Bo Suk said cheerfully. "Really?" "Yeah! I'm in love with that movie. Especially the brother! Bom and Sun Hwa were bawling their eyes out." "Hey! I didn't cry?!" "Yes, you did!" Bo Suk was quite excited, and Bom admitted, saying, "The imagery was really pretty. The background was dark, but there were distinct colors. It gave me the impression that the director is a very detail-oriented person." "I see," Juho answered as he thought of Sang Young. He did have a detail-oriented side to him. "It was incredible!" Bo Suk had been repeating the same praise for some time, and she seemed like she needed to work on expanding her vocabulary. With that, Juho took a seat and raised his hand to get their attention. "OK, why don't we stop there? I don't want to be taken away from my movie experience." "Then, go watch it ASAP! Join the club!" Sun Hwa said. It was obvious that she was into the movie. "I'm gonna read both of Yun Woo books at home!" Juho chuckled and asked, "You mean you still haven't?" "The world is filled with great comic books. I've been putting it off, and… Well, here I am," she said in a quieter voice as if she were pricked in the heart. "I'm sure I'm not the only person who feels this way and I'm sure more people will read Yun Woo's books after watching this movie. Anyway, hurry and go watch it!" "OK." Despite his answer, Juho didn't go to the theater for quite some time, and in the end, he was the only person in the entire club who hadn't watched the movie. "I can't help but like it." "This is probably the director's masterpiece." Seo Kwang and Baron said. They had been the most skeptical toward the movie, meaning that they were fans of the original. Seeing how the movie moved the hearts of such skeptics, Juho felt hopeful that he might have something to look forward to. "The movie was good." Mr. Moon affirmed, and Juho started receiving texts or phone calls from the authors around him. 'Trace of a Bird' was shaking the world yet again. Not only were the streets covered in its posters, but the book was also among the most searched words on the internet. The name "Yun Woo" was also frequently mentioned. 'When should I go watch it? When things die down? Maybe tomorrow? It'd be better to watch it at the theater, which means I can only put it off for so long,' Juho thought as he lay in his room. Suddenly, his phone rang. It was Seo Joong. "The movie was impressive! I think it's the first time in this country's history that a film adaptation was done right!" An excited voice came through as soon as Juho picked up his phone. It sounded like Seo Joong was calling immediately after watching the movie. Before he had the chance to go on, Juho rushed to say, "I haven't seen it yet." "What?! Why??" Seo Joong asked in a puzzled voice. "Just because." "Did you not get a ticket to the premier?" "I turned it down. It would be like advertising that I'm Yun Woo." "Still! I would've made it a priority to go watch it if I were you!" Seo Joong said, clicking his tongue. "Even Dong Gil liked it. He thinks that it did a good job portraying the original. The visuals were quite nice too. I might even say that the movie is a step up from the book in terms of visual presentation." "That's a mean thing to say to the author of the original." "So, go watch it! Why haven't you yet?! Are you afraid of getting disappointed?" Juho thought for a brief time and said, "I'm pumping myself up as much as I can." "Pumping yourself up?" "Or I'm gathering energy..." "Energy?" "You can say that I'm starving myself." "You're starving? Have you been not eating?" "No, but I'm just about to go eat." "Is it a buffet sort of situation?" "Something like that." Hunger was the best seasoning, and Juho intended on savoring his experience to his heart's content. He planned on facing the experience while being in the best state he could be. "Still, I'm sure it's not good to starve for too long. Everything's a balance." "That's right. You shouldn't starve for too long. Your stomach will shrink, so you won't be able to eat all that much." "I better get my tickets now then." "Oh, yeah? Did our conversation stir up your appetite?" As the conversation ended after a little while, Juho turned on his computer and logged into a website in order to purchase a ticket. He immediately saw the title 'Trace of a Bird.' The actors' faces also became visible along with the movie's colorful poster. It was quite sensuous. The poster was placed at the topmost, as the first movie, and had the phrase "Number One Pre-Ordered Movie" written in small letters under it. After looking intently at it, Juho clicked on the poster and chose a theater that was a slight distance from his house. He preferred to be at a place he had never been to. After choosing his seat, he purchased a ticket for a late-night showing. Then, his phone started ringing yet again. That time, it was Sang Young Ju, the director.

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138 Chapter 138 - The Trace of a Bird 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "I told you back then." "Forget your seasonings! If you're not planning on giving me a stroke, just go watch it!" "Speak of the devil. I just bought a ticket, so I'll be watching it very soon, Mr. Ju." "... Is that so? You should've told me earlier," Sang Young said as he coughed awkwardly. "There wasn't any time to tell you," Juho said as Sang Young cooled down. Pretending not to hear Juho, Sang Young added, "Good to hear that you bought a ticket already. Give me a call after you watch it. I'd like to hear you say, 'I was so touched. You're the best director in this country. There will never be another movie like it in my entire life.' OK? With tears and all," he said confidently. "You sound confident." "It came naturally as I heard the reviews from all around." "That makes sense. All of my friends loved it, as well as other authors I keep in touch with." "... Is that so?" Sang Young said as he coughed yet again. It sounded rather pleasant. "For the first time in a long time, I really enjoyed the filming process. It's weird considering how much risk I took on for this movie." "That's good to hear. The movie seems to be doing great too. It made the-most-pre-ordered-movie list." "I'd be lying if I denied that I'm on cloud nine. I'm seeing numbers that I'll never be able to see again in my directing career. On the other hand, I can't help but feel like there's a loose end somewhere. I don't want to be known as a person who talks the talk without walking the walk." "I already bought a ticket, I told you." "Right. Well, don't even bother with the popcorn. It'll only distract you. And make sure not to drink too much water so you don't have to make trips to the bathroom!" he emphasized repeatedly. "Be safe now. Even if you were to die today, death could wait until after the movie." "You're the best." --- Juho went to the theater. Although he got lost briefly on his way, he managed to arrive in time for the movie. Resisting the potent popcorn smell in the air tempting him, he made his way into the theater empty-handed. Third row from the top toward the middle. The seat he had reserved was left unoccupied. Despite the late night showing on a weekday, there were still people in the theater. Couples, friends, or people alone. The screen shone brightly, revealing the relationships between the members of the audience. Although it was deep into the night, there were people of all ages and genders who had come to watch the movie. The advertisements started playing on the screen, showing the faces of popular boy/girl bands or actors and actresses in the most recent TV dramas. They were dieting, drinking a beverage, or being physically affectionate toward each other. The time flew by, and Juho heard the conversations around him. As he stared blankly at the screen, the lights turned off, and the theater was engulfed in darkness. His surroundings disappeared, leaving only the screen present. Feeling somewhat constrained, Juho rubbed his hands together, and after the announcement explaining the fire exit locations, the screen transitioned. With that, the movie began to play. A majestic music filled the theater. "Ohh…!" Juho let out by reflex as Yun appeared on screen. The music blended with the scene where he was running in the dark. There were sounds and sound effects that were not directly portrayed in the book. The view changed from Yun's eyes, to his hair dripping with sweat, to his feet as they moved busily back and forth. Juho felt the letters and words he had written rising up to the surface of his mind. 'Yun ran as the drops of sweat trickled down from his forehead into his mouth. They were salty and unpleasant," the narration dictated, and the actor's voice echoed in the theater. "It was dangerous to run in the dark." ...because the runner wouldn't be able to see ahead. There was nothing in Yun's way as he ran, not even a street light. However, he swiftly ran through that street. What appeared to be a superpower was actually his experience. He knew exactly where to expect the insects chirping and where he needed to watch his steps. "I was finally able to run." He ran as he listened to the insects chirping, jumping over humps with ease. It was dark out, and the screen was filled with it, leaving only his eyes visible. It was the same darkness Juho had had in mind when he had written the book, and he felt excitement welling up from within. Yun made his way back to his resting place before sunrise. Then, after closing the curtains, he laid himself on the blanket and went to sleep alone. That's when everything around him started to come alive. The movie seemed to have shortened a scene that spanned about twenty pages in the book. He fell asleep and dreamed. It was a scene that indicated that his very resting place was the place where he lived in perpetual darkness, putting him in a state of near-death. While there were certainly parts that were removed and changed from the original, the movie was quite good, and it immersed the author. Despite the darkness, there were distinct colors. Juho immediately understood what Bom had told him. The movie portrayed darkness in various, carefully considered shades. Some scenes were slightly brighter, whereas others were slightly darker. At the same time, there were also scenes that were quite dark, sometimes pitch black. The intensity of it changed according to what was taking place in the scene. Darkness wasn't the only thing that stood out. The light that shone through the curtains accentuated the overall color scheme, and the feathers fluttered about the room beautifully. It was visually striking, and the fact that it was a movie made by Sang Young's coarse hands stirred up Juho's interest. "Yun," a pleasant, yet familiar voice said. It was the brother. "Hey." "How've you been?" "Why are you here?" The brothers continued in their crossed conversation, with visible fear on Yun's face and a suspicious smile on the brother's. Because of Juho's recollection of the actor's dull appearance, it was hard for him to imagine how the actor would portray the character. "Are you afraid?" the brother asked… "Yeah." … and Yun answered. He was exposing his weakness to his brother and sank powerlessly, without resisting or running away. The camera showed his eyes shaking anxiously. In them, was a deep sadness. The movie worked up to its climax as the brother snapped the wings of the bird. The scene was filled with painful breathing and feathers fluttering about. He was calm. Without clenching his teeth or his veins bulging from anger, he quietly killed the bird. Then, he chucked its carcass at Yun. It was fear, and the space became filled with it. The screen showed Yun's eyes, filled with sadness. Suddenly, he felt anger welling up from within that gave him the urge to shout. At the sight, Juho also came to a sudden realization. 'So, this must have been what it was like for all you readers. Angry, emotional," he thought as he felt a tingling sensation in his hands. The screen showed that it was night time. With the dead bird in his hand, Yun went out to look for the woman, thinking that she would be able to bury his deep-seated fear along with the carcass. The music played as Yun ran, but he wasn't on his usual trail. Suddenly, he stumbled on something unexpectedly and staggered, struggling to get back up. Holding his fear in his arms, he pushes on, his tears making him all the more pathetic and undesirable. Juho clenched his hands into fists as the darkness grew more intense, leaving only Yun's eyes visible. Yun stared intently on with his watery eyes at a shape made of light. With a shovel in her hand, the woman buried the bird for him willingly. The darkness lingered, and the movie approached its end as the screen became gradually brighter. "It's OK now," Yun said as he stood alone in front of a tomb. There were countless carcasses of animals buried under his feet. The darkness started to fade, and the sun rose to brighten the world. Juho frowned at the white light that shone brightly in the screen. There was a wind, and countless birds flew up to the sky. With that, the credit music played, and a quiet sobbing became audible. "Please exit this way!" Following the voice, the lights came on and illuminated the theater. The velvety covers on the chairs became visible. The door opened, and people rose from their seats simultaneously, heading down the stairs. It was a bit noisy. They were excited as the made their way out of the theater with leftover popcorn in their hands. Juho sat in the theater quietly until the credit finished rolling, and the music stopped. He felt the emotions linger within. It was just what he had been looking for. If what he was experiencing was equivalent to the effect that his book had on its readers, then… "I guess I'm not doing too badly…!" … Juho would be content. On his way out, Juho immediately called Sang Young as he had promised previously. "Did you watch it?" Sang Young asked abruptly. "Yes." "How was it?" After a brief time thinking, Juho gave his honest opinion, "I was pissed." "... Huh?" Sang Young asked in a flustered voice, and Juho added with a smile, "I was pissed or relieved where I should be. I felt something welling up from within at the end, but I soon felt proud." Sang Young remained silent at Juho's calm and seemingly humble opinion. "I see." Just like that, Juho hung up and walked about the unfamiliar street. --- "'Trace of a Bird,' most pre-ordered movie. Box Office Number One'" "'Trace of a Bird' reaches 70,000 viewers. Will it reach the 100,000 mark?'" "The Box-Office Hit! Number One! Critically acclaimed! Sang Young Ju's approach to the original." "The sensational stage greetings of 'Trace of a Bird' actors. Mentions of Yun Woo?" "The author of the original, Yun Woo, responds to the movie. His advice?" "The movie was sooo good." "The actor who played Yun's brother was amazing. I got chills when he killed the bird." "Sang Young Ju might not be the most famous director, but he was always recognized for his visual presentation." "I second that. I didn't know there were so many shades to darkness. I can really tell that they paid close attention to the props. I was touched when the birds flew away at the end." "What's with the article titles? It says nothing about Yun Woo." "Actors and actress, please tell us more about Yun Woo. We're dying here!" "They don't know either, apparently." "Actually, the director and Myung Joo Mu met with Yun Woo in person. There's a rumor saying that the writer rewrote the brother's character entirely." "They had to rewrite a character? How bad of a job did they do?" "The director 'prefers to keep it to himself.'" "I'm glad that it's not reflecting badly on the original. I was anxious throughout the entire movie." "It still feels like it falls short of the original. It's a bummer that it didn't have the same philosophical depth." "I don't think it's something that can be helped. Personally, I loved the movie." "I watched the movie without reading the book, and I loved it! On my way to the bookstore now!" "'Trace of a Bird' is the current number one best seller. The movie's proving to be a major boost." "'Sound of Wailing' following as a close second. Yun Woo gets all the money even if there hadn't been a movie." "Nope. 'Language of God' is the second. I just saw it." "'Language of God' is second." "Love that book." "It's a battle between Yun Woo and Won Yi! Pure literature vs. genre novel." "Yun Woo wins. No competition." "Just came across something strange. Here's the link:" As he saw the last comment, Juho stopped tapping on his phone. 'Something strange, huh…' Juho clicked the link that took him to a long post that was obviously written by a Yun Woo fan. In summary, it stated… "'Language of God' is a third-class novel at best. 'Sound of Wailing' got pushed down to third because of that no-name author, Won Yi Young. Genre novels are cheap and tasteless." At the prolonged criticism toward genre novels, Juho couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, Yun Woo wrote that third-class novel, buddy." According to the writer's logic, Yun Woo would also be considered a third-class author. "I'm sure he didn't know that when he wrote that post." The comment section was filled with people agreeing and disagreeing. It was a competition between Yun Woo and Won Yi Young, each hurtling insults at the other author. "Interesting," Juho said as he read through each of them.

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139 Chapter 139 - A Bomb Explosion 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl 'The world sure is full of interesting people,' Juho thought light-heartedly as he turned off the computer, picking up the sheets of manuscript paper scattered about the room and tossing them on to the desk. With that, he lay on his bed and went to sleep. Another day came, and Juho wrote as usual. The world was quiet and peaceful, and he got ready for school as soon as he woke up. He wrote at school as well, just like he had been at home, then he went to sleep. Time passed, and yet another day came. "What in the world is happening?!" Upon checking his phone, Juho was taken aback by the number of missed calls. He took a closer look and found out that Jang Mi had made most of the calls, followed by Seo Kwang. There were also missed calls from the other club members, authors, and Nam Kyung. Yawning, Juho called Jang Mi. "Mr. Young!" she answered the phone immediately. She sounded anxious on one hand and happy that she was hearing back from him on the other. "I couldn't get a hold of you, so I was starting to get worried." "I just woke up. I wrote late into the night, so I went to bed quite late." "I see. Then, I suppose you haven't heard the news yet." 'What news?' Juho wondered as Jang Mi said hesitantly. "So… This may sound somewhat absurd." "I'm listening." "You're involved in a dispute." Looking down at his pajamas, Juho asked again, "A dispute?" "Yes. Between Yun Woo and Won Yi Young. The internet is a mess right now, and it's getting worse. We've been getting calls from other publishing companies too." Juho remembered the post that he came across a few days back. 'It can't be that bad. They'd just hurl insults at each other at worst.' Feeling perplexed, Juho asked, "How bad is it?" "There's a feeling going around that you plagiarized Yun Woo." "Plagiarized? But I didn't plagiarize anybody." At his complacent attitude, Jang Mi answered in a serious tone, "Now's not the time for jokes, Mr. Young. Your reputation is getting hurt, and Yun Woo has the upperhand in the matter because he debuted ahead of you." Unfortunately, the time of Yun Woo's debut wasn't his only advantage. "So…" Juho calmly organized his thoughts. A Yun Woo fan had criticized Won Yi Young as a third-class author, and not only had it offended Won Yi Young fans, but also other fans of genre novels. It wasn't long until even non-Yun Woo fans joined in on the dispute that treated fantasy novels as subpar. The dispute intensified quickly, and it soon evolved from rivalry to comparing the literary value between the two books. To make matters worse, the dispute took an unexpected turn toward plagiarism after someone who was referring to HongSam's blog pointed out that the two authors were dangerously similar in style. Already emotionally charged, the two parties got into a fierce mud fight. 'I see… that's why Seo Kwang was trying to get a hold of me so desperately,' Juho thought. "Are you there, Mr. Young? "Yes." "Things are blowing out of proportion, and the media is exploding. You're both the most and the second most searched person on the internet. Yun Woo, Won Yi Young. Aren't you being a little greedy? It would have been more than enough to stop once you reached bestseller status." With that, Juho pulled up a browser and scanned through the news articles about Yun Woo, Won Yi Young, and the plagiarism controversy between them. From an outside perspective, it was quite serious. "... What do we do?" Jang Mi asked helplessly, and Juho heard the phones ringing restlessly in the background. The calls had to be about Won Yi Young. Feeling hungry, Juho rubbed his belly, and said, "I'll come clean." "Pardon?" "That Yun Woo and Won Yi Young are the same person." "... I'm sorry, what was that?" His hunger intensified. --- "This is nice," Jang Mi said, sipping her tea while sitting next to her boss, Dong Baek. The nutty fragrance of Job's Tears tickled her nose. Because of the reporters crowding the entrance to the company, the two had no choice but to meet Juho elsewhere: the botanical garden. Although they were hesitant to open the door to the hidden room, they came to realize that it was a rather nice meeting spot. Before making his way to the garden, Juho had a lengthy conversation on the phone with Seo Kwang to calm him down. Then, having arrived at the garden, he took a cookie from a stack that Jang Mi and Dong Baek had brought and put it in his mouth. It was from a bakery. "It's nice to be quiet for once, away from all those phones," Dong Baek said, exhausted. The staff at the publishing company was up to their knees with phone calls alone. From reporters, to readers and broadcast producers, questions regarding Won Yi Young were flooding the office. Of course, Dong Baek's company was yet to make any official announcement, and Zelkova Publishing Company was the same way. "They're really letting me have it, aren't they?" Juho asked. Whether it was Yun Woo or Won Yi Young. Dong Baek couldn't deny Juho's question. Yun Woo and Won Yi Young. Pure literature and genre novels. Appealing to the masses and artistic value. Everything was in a jumble, and the purpose was no longer clear. It was a mud fight. "Yun Woo fans feel that Won Yi Young is damaging their favorite author's reputation and his unique work. By contrast, Won Yi Young fans are claiming that their author's book is not something that can result from plagiarizing. That was when the two conflicting parties started talking down the work of the author they're each standing against, and that led to them exchanging insults with each other and their authors. It's all stale and pointless." Jang Mi gave a summary of the current situation while cautiously studying Juho's expression. She was concerned about how he would feel as the person at the center of it. "Interesting," Juho said, chuckling. The situation was rather interesting to him. The two books written by the same person were at odds with each other. He was both advocated for and criticized. "Well, on the brighter side, things are not looking entirely bad. Thanks to the war between the fans, the rate at which the book is selling is increasing exponentially. Controversy can be an incredibly effective tool when it comes to raising numbers." "I always thought that my books would sell with or without controversy." "That goes without saying. I just wanted to show you that there is a positive side to all this." "I did expect a bomb, but I didn't think that would be this big," Dong Baek said as he scratched his head. 'Language of God' was ranked second in the bestsellers' list. It was the achievement of a rookie who had nothing to show for, and Dong Baek had been more than content with the result. However, things had taken an unexpected turn, and he found himself the center of attention of the entire country. "The fuse must've been burning too hot, and the spark must've lit another fuse near it. Perhaps we started off a little too strong," he said. Yun Woo simply had too much presence, and his clean and mysterious reputation had been caught in a controversy with a new sensational rookie, Won Yi Young, who was suspected of plagiarizing him. Once the hidden truth came out, another bomb would go off. It would be a chain reaction. "I still think it's best to come clean," Juho said, and Dong Baek nodded. "I've already made plans with a reporter." He was referring to Myung Sil Oh. At the sound of the familiar name, Juho tilted his head. 'I know that name," Juho thought, and suddenly, Seo Kwang's face crossed his mind. "Ah! I read her articles. She had a lot of good things to say about Won Yi Young." "Yes. She's very experienced and skilled. Very trustworthy." Emphasizing that Juho didn't need to worry, Dong Baek asked one of the questions that he had been wanting to ask Yun Woo himself, "Frankly, I've been curious. Why did you, Yun Woo, submit your manuscript under the name Won Yi Young?" Once the reportes and those who could read the articles found out, they would ask the same question. Juho remained silent for some time because there had been multiple reasons for that decision. He didn't want his writing to be masked by Yun Woo's shadow, and he had wanted to experience something that he had never done. He had wanted proof. He had wanted freedom. "It wouldn't be fun." "Pardon?" Juho chuckled and said, "It's boring to write under one name." "... Is that it?" "No, there are a few more reason. One of them has to do with a crow." While Dong Baek gave up, Jang Mi's eyes sparkled with interest. Although ambiguous, it was a rather Yun Woo-like answer. "I'll be counting on you." With Juho's request, the two rose from their seats and made their way out. However, Juho sat back down and checked the time. It was time to meet with his editor, Nam Kyung. As he waited patiently, he opened a book he had brought. --- "I'm here." "Hello." A tired looking silhouette walked in through the door and over to the vending machine. Buying himself a cup of tea, he sat on the same spot where Jang Mi had been sitting. The nutty fragrance was quite pleasant. Without even asking for the source, Nam Kyung reached for one of the cookies on the table. "This is good! Where's it from?" "No clue." Nam Kyung paid no particular attention to his answer. "I enjoyed the movie," he said in reference to 'Trace of a Bird.' Juho, too, picked up a cookie and said, "How does it feel seeing the book you're in charge of being made into a movie?" "How do YOU feel as the author? I heard you were against it for quite some time." "It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be," Juho said, chuckling. "Same here." Juho put the cookie in his mouth. It tasted exactly the same as the last. "I felt proud for some reason. The movie's doing really well too, isn't it?" "So I heard." "I'm telling you, Yun Woo's always at the center of attention." The name "Yun Woo" was being mentioned frequently throughout, and because of that, it received more than enough attention and made marketing almost unnecessary. On top of that, there was yet another bomb in Yun Woo's hand. "So, you decided to come clean?" Nam Kyung asked, and Juho nodded quietly. "I see, I see…" Nam Kyung said, wearing a serious look. 'Yun Woo is Won Yi Young.' Once the bomb drops, there was no denying that it would affect Yun Woo's preexisting works. "Won Yi Young or Yun Woo, you are an incredible writer." "That's a compliment I've yet to hear." "Well, you'll be hearing it a lot. People are attacking each other because they feel that they're rivals, but once the truth gets out… Haha! Man, this is the first time something like this has ever happened in my editing career." "It keeps you on your toes, doesn't it?" "I feel like I'm getting older every day," Nam Kyung said as he rubbed his tired eyes. His office was exploding with phone calls from those who wanted to know where Yun Woo stood in the matter, and the website had crashed long ago. Because the company was the only means to hear about Yun Woo, it was inevitable. Nam Kyung looked at Juho, who was both Yun Woo and Won Yi Young, and smiled Once the truth was revealed, things would only intensify. Despite the business, things were not entirely tiresome. "We're reprinting both 'Trace of a Bird' and 'Sound of Wailing.' The more the book gets printed, the less misprints. That makes me happy." "Were there a lot of typos?" "Yep. Still, compared to the first copy, it's a thing of beauty." Like every editor who loved reprints, Nam Kyung felt revitalized as he was reminded of it happening to his books and sipped on his tea. It was delicious, and from then on, he became an avid advocate for Job's Tears tea. Then, he brought up something he remembered all of a sudden, "By the way, is it really true? What you told me over the phone?" Juho caught on immediately. He was talking about of when Nam Kyung had called him after reading 'Language of God.' He had asked, "Did you make all this? The charts and all?"

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140 Chapter 140 - A Bomb Explosion 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "I did," Juho had said back then. He remembered that the background had been quite noisy. Nam Kyung had asked for an explanation a number of times and complained about the ambiguity of Juho's answer. Still, Juho explained it all in a friendly manner, and in the process, he came to mention the evolutions of Hangul, the fall of hieroglyphs, and written languages that had survived the test of time. As the subject became broader, Nam Kyung resorted to asking, "How many languages do you speak, anyway?!" "Twenty-three, more or less," Juho answered playfully. Thinking back on that day, Juho swallowed the cookie in his mouth. Nam Kyung must have wanted yet another confirmation from him. He rushed Juho for an answer, squinting his eyes. "So, was that really true?" "It's a lie." "What?" Juho said, taking notice of the disappointed look on Nam Kyung's face. "It's meaningless to count how many languages I can speak. I can read in any language, essentially." Nam Kyung furrowed his forehead at Juho's calm attitude. "I mean it," he said. "So do I," Juho answered as he reached for another cookie. Then, Nam Kyung immersed himself in thought and suggested, "Would you like to write a book?" He was an editor after all. "What kind of book?" "About language, like secrets to learning a new language or how to study for it. Things like that." He was sincere. Once the truth got out, and the masses found out that Yun Woo wrote 'Language of God,' they would be bound to be interested in his language skills. Eighteen years old, outstanding literary value, and on top of that, a polyglot. Simply put, Yun Woo was full of charm. There had been no author like him in the history of literature, and he was truly one of a kind. "Let's do it." People tended to be drawn to things that were unique, and as an editor, Nam Kyung couldn't help his desire to seize the opportunity. "I respectfully decline." "Why?!" Though he preferred not to disappoint Nam Kyung, Juho couldn't write the kind of book he was suggesting. He felt that he wasn't in a position to be teaching others about secrets or how to study for something. "Aside from things like 'It just happened. I was just living my life, minding my own business,' there's nothing else I can say." He had died after leading a tenacious life, and then the day came when he came back to life. Knowing nothing about this, Nam Kyung insisted, "That's fine, as long as the book is about language." "No, thank you." "Why not?!" "Unless I'm writing a novel, I prefer not to write about myself." Although he would have considered it for 'Language of God,' Nam Kyung was working with Yun Woo, not Won Yi Young. "Even though you're writing about your strengths?" "Yes. Even then." "C'mon. Your readers will love it." "They'll love it even more when I come out with a novel." "It's necessary to change things up every now and then." "That's how 'Language of God' came about." At Juho's emphatic refusal, Nam Kyung let out a heavy sigh. It was a sign that he was giving up. "I see. Well, if the author doesn't want to, then there's nothing I can do about it." "Don't be too sad now." The future was unpredictable. Maybe he would come to encounter yet another opportunity. Despite Juho trying to comfort him, Nam Kyung drank his tea sullenly. "Alright, fine. When can you expect to see the article? I'm sure you guys have connections." According to Dong Baek's own words... "Within this week." … within the near future. --- "You've been busy lately, huh?" Dong Baek asked as he looked at Myun Sil Oh, who sat across from him. Smiling cheerfully, she was sitting where Yun Woo had sat when Done Baek first met him, and it was at that very spot that the truth would be revealed. Moaning intentionally, he answered, "Did you not see the reporters surrounding the entrance? It's been chaos." "I sure did and I'm sure that's why you called me." Dong Baek nodded at her confident attitude. "It's unfortunate that I don't get to meet Mr. Young in person today, but I'll make sure to package everything nicely into my article. I'm sure it's tough for him, being involved with Yun Woo of all authors," she added. When she came to meet with Dong Baek, she was under the impression that she was writing an article in defense of Won Yi Young. Without knowing about the inner details, there was nothing else she could do. "Thank you, but that won't be necessary," Dong Baek said with a smile. "First, I have to warn you…" he gave her a warning as there weren't many reporters who were as skilled and trustworthy as her. With that, the smile faded away from her face. "... This is kind of intimidating. Maybe I didn't fully grasp the situation. What kind of article did you have in mind?" She was quick to catch on and easy to communicate with. "I called you to exaggerate the matter even more, Ms. Oh." "Even more?! That sounds risky. It'll pop any minute," she said, and Dong Baek agreed with her. The bomb was about to explode. To be more precise, it was exploding to its heart's content, and there was no way to tame it. No, he didn't want to tame it. He came to the decision that it would be more beneficial to take the opportunity and make the most out of the situation. Fireworks. As long they were aimed at the sky, there was no risk of injuring anyone. "Yun Woo vs. Won Yi Young." The only person who had the power to throw the bomb was none other than the author who was both Yun Woo and Won Yi Young. "A lot of people are curious about Yun Woo and his identity, right?" "Of course." "And the same goes for Won Yi Young." "Absolutely. There has been speculation," Myung Sil said, flexing her hands by reflex. She wasn't sure what Dong Baek was trying to say, but she did feel the need to prepare herself. "I'm about to reveal the secret that's been closely guarded up to this point." --- On a lazy weekend afternoon, Dong Gil was reading his book as usual after meeting his deadline for his short story. It was a world that was both detailed and vast, and every sentence had a mysterious charm. It was rather immersive. "Dong Gil! Let's play." A voice disrupted his reading. It was Seo Joong, holding a pool cue in his hands. Dong Gil furrowed his brow at once. He felt that his friend would never grow out of his shallowness, regardless of how old he grew. Seo Joong was wearing a yellow sweatshirt and pants with sauce stains from lunch. As a person who took appearances seriously, it was an unacceptable sight for Dong Gil. "Can't you see that I'm reading?" In that case, the best course of action was to not look. He looked away from the unpleasant sight, and the neatly printed words brought about a sense of peace in his heart. "'Language of God,' huh." Seo Joong read the title of the book out loud and positioned himself by the pool table at the center of the living room. Then, stacking his thumb and index fingers on top of the middle finger, the pool cue lined up with his wrist. It was a rather clean posture. With that, the ball launched forward, hitting another ball and then into a hole. "Won Yi Young has a rather mysterious style." Without paying attention, Seo Joong positioned himself once again. The ball launched and hit a series of balls until one of them went into a hole. "He's got stamina, I'll give you that. It's impressive. He's written everything, from politics to arts, education, law, morals, power relations, and the necessities of life. The characters are multi-dimensional as well. He's leading this enormous world without hesitation." Dong Gil answered as he flipped the page, "He's sensitive to language as well. The fact that he created a whole new language is not everything there is to this book. His sentences and word choices are incredibly sophisticated. One can't write like this without experience." "And the literary value." "Nothing's wasted." "Doesn't that remind you of Juho?" A series of solid objects colliding sounded in the living room. "Of course it does. The message is similar. This isn't my first time feeling like the author's perspective is similar to Juho's." "The style's similar too. Maybe he transcribed Yun Woo's books a lot?" Listening to his ever-so-light-hearted friend, Dong Gil flipped the page. "You can't just write like Yun Woo after transcribing his book a several times." Seo Joong laughed as his friend answered annoyedly and moved his hands even faster. An even louder noise sounded from where he was. "That's what I'm saying," he said as he straightened his back and stepped away from the pool table. "But maybe Won Yi Young has what it takes because of how sensitive he is to language." "Before I even delve into his skills, I just don't get it. What's the meaning behind copying Yun Woo? It'd be much more beneficial to make something of his own." A distinctive character was the foundation and objective of any artist. "Well, we can't always lead an ideal life." "Being distinct as an author is a reality, not an ideal. Even now, there's controversy because he was copying Yun Woo." "You don't like that, huh?" "I can't say that I have a positive perspective toward it." It was a rather sensitive matter for artists, and Dong Gil felt the familiarity the moment he read the book. It was Yun Woo's writing, yet the author was named "Won Yi Young." As Yun Woo's writing became only more apparent as he read, Dong Gil felt disappointed. 'Why would such a talented writer give up being distinguished from Yun Woo?' "Maybe we should go see him. I'm itching to know what he looks like." "Take me with you this time, will ya?" Ignoring Seo Joong, Dong Gil remained silent and closed the book. He didn't know what the author looked like because he had never met him. "Should I dare to connect the dots?" Dong Gil said with an unpleasant smile on his face, and Seo Joong shook his head. 'Here we go again,' he thought. Dong Gil was about to doubt every single thought he had come across. "I never saw it with my own eyes, so what I'm thinking would be a shallow speculation at best. Speculations shine with doubt." "Aren't you tired?" "It's a thought. What's so tiring about that?" "I'm confident that I won't be taken aback when your head explodes next to me." Dong Gil brushed his hand down the book. He recognized that he didn't have the most positive opinions on the author. "Now, let's think in a positive light." "How?" "How can we connect the dots in a way where it won't offend us? What bothered me the most was the fact that the author gave up trying to be distinct." "That's probably something we shouldn't mess around with. If he were not to give up being distinct, it would have yielded a completely different result." "There might be a connecting piece that's missing from both of us." "Well, I guess that settles it then. What's the point in thinking about it so hard when the really important thought isn't in our heads? Let's just relax and chill." "That's why you'll never grow up," Dong Gil said as he gave his friend a pitiful look. In his mind, it was no wonder that Seo Joong wrote books filled with such mushy ideals. "If you can't find it at home, then you gotta go out. Are you gonna starve yourself because you're out of rice?" "I can eat bread, duh." Feeling the absence of the need to respond to those words, Dong Gil reached for the TV remote next to him and turned on the news. It didn't matter what the news was because everything was connected in this world. "Just like how you'd be the first suspect when I'm found dead." "That sounds more like getting convicted of murder." Their conversation stopped there. They wouldn't be able to reach a conclusion, and conversations like that had been a daily task between Seo Joong and Dong Gil. The objective of those conversations was not to reach an answer, but to find out the proper question. It was just like writing. Then, a familiar name sounded from the TV. "There's Yun Woo. He's just on fire as of late." The two fixed their eyes on the TV as the news anchor delivered the news. "Today, the Dong Baek Publishing Company made an official announcement regarding the sensational dispute between the fans of two major authors, Yun Woo and Won Yi Young." "When?!" "Shh!" Dong Gil warned his chatty friend and focused on the TV. "The fans are in shock as they have come to learn that Won Yi Young is the second alias of the author Yun Woo," the news anchor said in the TV. It was strange, astonishing, and entirely unexpected. At the same time, all the pieces began to fall into place. "Wow…" Seo Joong said absent-mindedly, and jumped from his seat, and said, "Yun Woo was Won Yi Young! My gosh, this is so satisfying! Wow, who would've thought!?" With that, he bursted into laughter. He was quite distracting. "I better call Juho!" "Already on it," Dong Gil said as his phone informed him that the line was busy.

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141 Chapter 141 - A Bomb Explosion 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Hello? Dae Soo? Sorry, I can't really hear you because of Mideum." Since the article, Juho had been on the phone for nearly an entire day because of his friends and acquaintances trying to get a hold of him all at the same time as if they had made an agreement. As soon as they found out that Yun Woo and Won Yi Young were the same person, Juho had to withstand the aftershock, especially from the people around him. "Sorry, I'm getting another call. I think you should calm Mideum down a little bit. OK, take care now." While the phone was still hot in his hand, he answered the next call, "Hello?" "My, my! Mr. Young!" A husky voice came from the receiver. It was Sang Young. "Yes, this is he." "I'm at the bookstore to buy 'Language of God," he reported unnecessarily. "I see." "Your books are selling left and right. 'Trace of a Bird' was at number one for a while because of the movie, but I can see that might change soon." "It's still my book." "I'll take that as you saying that there are no other rivals aside from yourself?" "Take it as you will. Is that all you wanted to tell me?" With that, he let out a hearty laughter and said, "When would I ever get to buy Won Yi Young's book while I'm talking on the phone with Yun Woo?" Then, Juho heard an employee's voice asking Sang Young if he needed a bag for his book. "No, thanks," he said. It was like a live broadcast. "Mind if I hang up?" "Had a long day, huh? It makes sense, considering how big of a bomb you dropped. Maybe you understand where I was coming from a little better now?" Similarly, Sang Young, too, had been dealing with people around him asking about Yun Woo, and things were not about to let up anytime soon. "I always appreciate your work," Juho said sincerely. "As long as you write good books like this, I can keep my mouth shut as long as you need me to," Sang Young answered. As soon as he hung up, Juho placed his phone on his desk. His hand was burning from the heat radiating from the phone. Lying comfortably on his bed, Juho stared at the ceiling absent-mindedly, but before long, the vibration from the desk broke the silence. Another call. Having lost count of the number of calls he had been answering, Juho chuckled. "I wasn't aware that I knew this many people." He groped for his phone on the desk and checked the name on the screen. At that moment, he sprung up from his bed. "Mr. Lim," he said as he sat up to answer the call. "Can you talk?" "Yes, of course!" WIthout hesitation, Hyun Do got straight to the point. The background was silent. "That was refreshing," he said briefly, and those words sank deep into Juho's heart. The literary giant was aware of what it took for Juho to finally be able to write a book like the 'Language of God.' With that, Juho remembered the scenery at the beach, where the boundless horizon and the grains of sand came together harmoniously. "I thought you were panicking because I couldn't get a hold of you. I should have known when Yun Seo was acting suspiciously," Hyun Do said calmly. "It was fun," Juho answered briefly like Hyun Do. He had enjoyed the process of writing the 'Language of God' very much, as he indulged in his fantasies of creating an enormous world. "It felt like I stretched for the first time in a long time. I feel refreshed." "Did you get sick at all?" "No, as healthy as a horse." At the energetic response, a quiet chuckle sounded from the phone. "I guess doing something out of my character did pay off after all." "... Pardon?" "I enjoyed your book, as much as the work you put into it. Now, I'll see you later." With that, he hung up the phone. While it was the shortest phone call thus far, it was also the most memorable. Hyun Do was nothing like the people who had called Juho. He was calm and composed. Juho slowly moved the phone away from his ear and felt that the emotions he had injected in his work had translated successfully to the readers. "Well, go me…!" He was ecstatic. --- "The truth revealed: 'I am my own rival.'" "The dispute was an illusion: Fans react to the recent dispute." "Yun Woo shocks the country yet again. A close look at Yun Woo's literature." "Dispute turned out to be neither plagiarism nor imitation, but just Yun Woo himself." "The true identity of Yun Woo? Should readers expect a third alias?" "Yun Woo is here to stay. What are his limits?"" "Wow, what the heck is happening?!" "There was a war between Yun Woo fans and Won Yi Young fans, and it turned out that they were fighting over the same person." "That's insane." "For real! I wouldn't be shocked if Yun Woo actually planned for all this to happen." "This is the first time an article gave me the chills." "The publishing industry is a mess currently. Nobody knew aside from his editors apparently." "'Language of God' has an amazing world and characters. It was the first time I stayed up all night reading a book, and it turns out that it was written by a seventeen-year old. It made me realize what a real genius is like." "I second that." "I mean, he created a whole new language. I think that speaks for itself." "Here I was, thinking that he was a professor or a doctor or something. Turns out he's in high school." "What does one have to eat to be able to write like that?" "Did Yun Woo really create that language?' "There it is again. I can always find at least one person mentioning that! I'm kind of doubtful still. Is it even possible to do that?" "He's a genius so…" "That's what makes him a genius." "Is it really that hard to create a language? I'm not trying to pick a fight or anything, I'm actually curious." "There are countless written languages in the 'Language of God,' and each and every one of them is based on Old English and Hangul, so they all have solid structures. There are even regions where body language developed as a main method of communication. As if that's not intricate enough, he goes even further and talks about vowels, consonants, word orders and vocabulary development. How can you tell? If you look at the protagonist in the book, he's very sensitive to language, so he goes around picking up and translating languages of different regions in no time. Simply put, Yun Woo's a genius. If you'd like to know more, here's the link:" "And there are the books that he wrote under his actual alias too. Isn't he the youngest winner of the Dong Kyung Literature Award? Is that even possible to achieve as a single individual? Honestly, I'm getting a little suspicious." "In the end, Yun Woo gets it all. The top three current bestsellers are all Yun Woo/Won Yi Young." "Yun Woo forever!" --- "Things have been so hectic lately." Listening to Jang Mi moaning, Juho sipped his coffee. It tasted slightly acidic and bitter. "One downside to our readers is their insatiable curiosity. I get calls throughout the day asking when the next volume is coming out. We decided recently to slow things down too." "Right," Juho agreed as he understood where she was coming from. "It's a sticky situation." Despite her complaining, her face was shining with a cheerful smile. As she grinned ear to ear, her cow-like nose piercing moved up and down. Though it took some time to get used to, Juho had eventually grown familiar with the sight. Her eccentric accessories made for an interesting contrast with her professional attire. "The bulletin board in our website is brimming with inquiries about Yun Woo, and we didn't even publish his books," she said cheerfully, and there was a reason for her happiness. "They should be asking about Won Yi Young, who recently took Yun Woo's number one spot." Recently, the 'Language of God' had become the number one bestseller after the release of 'The Language of God: Languages,' which was an offshoot volume that elaborated on the rules and configurations of the languages that appeared in the book. Jang Mi had thought of an idea that Nam Kyung had also thought of in the past, and the result was a massive success. "You know… it's a not not the easiest book to read, if you think about it." It was a book entirely about a world and its languages. Then, she answered proudly, "That's what you think. People who are curious about you can't help but buy the book, including myself." "There's no mention of me anywhere in the book, though." "The fact that it was written by Yun Woo is more than enough. Even if it weren't for that fact, the readers love Won Yi Young and the 'Language of God.' Now that Yun Woo fans are joining in on the party, the sales are skyrocketing!" The skyrocketing sales had successfully made the book the number one bestseller. "I'm happy that we got to spend some time understanding the worldview better. It helped tremendously." Jang Mi smiled bashfully at Juho's answer and said, "To be honest, I'm a fan of offshoot volumes and aftermaths of a story. Avid fans tend to want to know more about the details," she added, saying that her study was filled with them. "Of course, 'The Language of God' will always have a place in my study." As the author, such remark was an honor. "The book is doing quite well in the international markets. Japan, China, Philippines, Taiwan, France… We've noticed that it's growing especially popular in Europe." Thanks to Jang Mi's efforts, the book had reached overseas, and it was being well received across the world. As the news of Yun Woo's second alias spread, readers throughout the world responded similarly to readers in Korea. Juho had read countless of his readers' opinions by that point, and there were always suspicions about his creativity. When Juho quietly brought it up, Jang Mi said emphatically, "There are very, very few people who are genuinely doubting your creativity, Mr. Young." Juho nodded light-heartedly. "Well, their doubts aren't something I can help them with." --- "Damn it." A quiet swear sounded in a dark room, where a large-figured man was fiddling forcefully with a device in his hand. Suddenly, a stream of artificial light shone on his hairy face. Then, footsteps approached him. "Coin! Kelley Coin!" The knocking on the door grew more and more impatient. "Damn it," the man said again, annoyed. The door flung open and light rushed into the room. The bed and the desk were stained by a brown liquid, and countless paper cups were scattered about the room, which reeked with the stench of caffeine. There were two women standing by the door: one wearing an anxious look while the other was giving the man a pitiful look. "I need your manuscript." "I don't have it," Coin said without even looking in the direction of his editor, Isabella. "Your manuscript has been overdue for a month now. If there isn't a manuscript, then you gotta make one. What are you doing here?" she said anxiously. Coin glared at her, but it wasn't enough to intimidate the editor who had been working with him for the last five years. Without hesitation, she pulled out her hand. "I SAID I DON'T HAVE THE DAMN MANUSCRIPT!" he shouted as he scratched the sides of his head annoyingly, and his mother, Susan, scoffed at the sight. "You're a pathetic excuse for a writer. No wonder you got pushed aside." Provoked by his mother's mocking words, Coin stared into the device in his hand with bloodshot eyes, which was covered with the name, "Yun Woo." All three of Yun Woo's books were listed above Coin's. "Your books are thing of a past now. As always, the younger ones are taking over." With that, Susan walked into the room and opened the window, revealing the blue sky. The darkness faded from the room, and the light came in to fill its void. The dust particles sparkled brightly in the air. "Yun Woo, was it? He seems like quite a writer, unlike you." Isabella listened to Susan quietly. "Well, don't think that your books are completely useless. It works wonders when I can't sleep at night. It's much more effective than alcohol, so I've been putting it to use often." Coin remained silent as he glared maliciously at the name, "Yun Woo." "Judging from your silence, I assume you know what I'm talking about. You have no idea what kind of trash you've been writing lately, yet you're probably thinking you're on top of the world after winning a few awards here and there," with those words, she left the room and walked down the stairs, adding, "If you understood the words that came out of my mouth, then move it." Coin's hands flinched at those words.

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142 Chapter 142 - A Guest from Afar 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Coin remained silent as Isabella looked at him calmingly. Then, he raised his hand and threw the device toward the stairs that his mother had just walked down, breaking it. "You want my manuscript?" he said aggressively, and Isabella answered calmly, "I don't have all day." "Then, wait here. I'll be back." "Where are you going?" He looked up at Isabella's question, looking all the more intimidating. He didn't seem like a person in his mid-thirties. "What are you, stupid?" He was going to visit the country where Yun Woo lived. "How are you planning on meeting with him?" she asked as her eyebrows twitched. "I'm going to his publishing company. They'll know me." "And Yun Woo agreed to this?" "Why are you asking me?" he said annoyingly as he picked up his laptop from the bed to buy a plane ticket. Crossing her arms, Isabella added, "Because… I can get in touch with his publishing company?" The clacking of the keyboard came to a sudden stop. "The official event that you turned down last time we met, be there. No disappearing in the middle." There were conditions. "Do you have any idea how pissed off I am right now?! I'm BURNING from within and I can't write anything because of it! I hardly got any sleep the last several nights!" he said angrily. "Right." Suddenly, he jumped out of his bed, standing on the empty paper cups on the floor. "I made up my mind. No matter what happens, I'm going to sleep better than that lovely mother of mine. I'm gonna make it happen." 'If you want to be able to sleep so badly, then all you gotta do is write a book yourself," she muttered internally as she listened to him intently. "An event? OK, you got it. One condition: I have to see Yun Woo's face. What if an eighteen year old kid is hiding behind a ghost writer? What if there's some sort of trick involved? I'm going to get rid of every trace of him and I'll make sure to shout out my achievement to the world." His voice was filled with murderous intent. "There is no Yun Woo in this world." Coin was notorious for his temper, and people in the publishing industry shuddered at the sound of his name. He was also known for breaking a journalist's nose for ridiculing his book. He had been a rookie author back then who had just published his first book. Yet, he hadn't hesitated to act on his anger. Not only was he mischievous, but he was also eccentric. On top of that, he was violent and rough around the edges. Despite such terrible qualities, he was a rather skilled writer, and to the puzzlement of his editor, that bloodthirsty man was capable of writing the most gentle and beautiful books. "I can't make any promises, but I'll do my best." As if putting a beast back into its cage, she closed the door on her way out and took out her phone without hesitation. --- "Hello, Zelkova Publishing Company," Nam Kyung answered the phone that rang cheerfully, and as usual, it was an inquiry about Yun Woo. "Ah, yes. He really did write it." With that, a sarcastic voice sounded from the receiver, "Why's he hiding like that then? Are you telling me that he actually created all those languages on his own? He wrote all that? An eighteen-year-old kid?" The slur in the speech indicated that the person was under the influence of alcohol. "Yes, he wrote the book on his own. Also, if you have any questions regarding 'The Language of God,' you might wanna try Dong Baek Publishing Company." "Do you have proof!? PROVE IT!" "Bye, bye now," Nam Kyung said briefly and hung up the phone. He was well acquainted with calls like that, so without any trace of agitation, he picked up the manuscript on his desk. It was from an author other than Yun Woo. After all, Yun Woo wasn't the only author who had his books published through the company. Once he checked for errors and places to edit and sent it back by email with his comments, the author wrote back with their opinion. Then, they proceeded to make the necessary changes while leaving alone what needed to be left intact. As an editor, he had to be thorough and creative in order to produce a better product. "Nam Kyung, I uploaded the file you were looking for in the shared folder," a coworker said, and Nam Kyung immediately placed his hand on his mouse. "Ugh, my shoulders. I need a break," he said as he massaged his stiff shoulders. While on break, he logged into a bookstore's website, which was was filled with promotional posters for various books. While there were books that made their way onto the main display rack, there were also books that were collecting dust. However, books of neither of those categories held a candle to the presence of Yun Woo's books. "First, 'Language of God.' Followed by 'Trace of a Bird' and 'Sound of Wailing.'" If he was competing in the Olympics, he would be wearing all three medals around his neck: gold, silver, and bronze. The fourth was a book by Kelley Coin from the year before. Having previously taken the number one spot consistently, Coin's books were nowhere near as popular as they once were. Knowing about the author's infamous history, Nam Kyung felt slightly concerned. "Well… I do hear from time to time that he's mellowed out, but his record is just too… colorful." Despite becoming an alcoholic and then a drug addict who was also convicted of assault, Coin had the impressive record of winning four major genre novels awards simultaneously, and his profile contained his yearly record of awards. On top of that, he was active as a playwright and a screenwriter, as well as an author who wrote pure literature, essays and poems. His versatility had brought him fame, and he was recognized as one of the top authors in the world. The Zelkova Publishing Company had been planning for a Kelley Coin collection, choosing and translating his masterpieces. They had published four books so far, and the remaining four were waiting to be translated. As Nam Kyung clicked the cover image of Coin's book, the author's profile appeared. Because of his skill as an author and disastrous personality, he had always been the recipient of praise and criticism. While there were people who bought his books without hesitation, there were also people who hated him without hesitation. "... and that's the kind of author Yun Woo won against." Although literature wasn't about competition, Nam Kyung couldn't help himself while looking at the numbers in front of his eyes. Sales being one of the countless standards by which an author was judged, Juho was ahead of Coin noticeably, and Nam Kyung felt proud to see the book that he had edited himself… … as the thought that Kelley Coin might be interested in Yun Woo crossed his mind. Feeling ecstatic about the bestsellers' rank, he logged into a search engine and saw the list of the most searched. As he clicked one of them naturally and light-heartedly, the page showed a picture of Kelley Coin looking annoyed. "Kelley Coin sighted in Korea?" At that moment, his phone rang. Hoping that it wouldn't be another drunk, he answered the phone. "Zelkova Publishing Company." Then, a voice speaking in native English sounded from the receiver --- A few hours before Nam Kyung answered the phone, Juho was at a bookstore, and he picked up a book from a stack placed under a banner written in large letters, 'Kelley Coin Collection.' They were the series of books chosen among the many books written by the author. Quite a few of those were well known, and many people would have heard of them even if they hadn't read it themselves. Walking past the display rack, Juho walked toward the section that was organized by the names of authors and found "Kelley Coin." Aside from the books that were being displayed on the most visible display rack in the store, there were a slew of other books written by the author that took up three entire rows. Reaching for a book, he picked up the one titled 'Witch Hunt.' It was Kelley Coin's debut title, and it was one of his least recognized books. Even with all the other books written by him, 'Witch Hunt' was Juho's favorite among the bibliography that was yet to be imported. As he opened the book, he saw a brief introduction on the author. "Eccentric, brat, problem child." Most people in the publishing industry were hesitant to work with him, and the author had the power to make people exclaim whether out of love or hate. He stood out, to the say the least. Contrary to his less than pleasant personality, his books tended to be strangely and fantastically beautiful, as if a nursery rhyme had been mixed with reality. Like thorns on roses, there was anger in the way he mocked the rest of the world with his writing. "I heard something about his special coffee." Among many things, Kelley Coin was also notorious for his caffeine addiction, and the brand of coffee that he drank exclusively became well known along with his personality. 'Coming to think of it, didn't Seo Kwang say something about him coming to Korea?' Juho thought as he placed the book back on the shelf. On his way out of the bookstore, Juho heard the names "Yun Woo" and "Won Yi Young" frequently. Though he would have to try to get closer to get a better listen, Juho moved on confidently as he was well accustomed to hearing those names at that point. "'Language of God' is better." "You're only saying that, because you haven't read the 'Sound of Wailing.'" The two women conversed as Juho walked past them, and nothing happened because nobody knew what Yun Woo or Won Yi Young looked like. As he walked out of the bookstore, a coffee chain with a peculiar logo on its windows came into his view. Using a mythical creature, the harpy, as their logo, it was the very coffee brand that Kelley Coin loved. Widely known as a half-woman, half-bird creature, there were many theories surrounding the harpy and its appearance. Mischievous and unpredictable, they were also known to hassle travelers, and according to a mythology, humans were warned against killing them. As for the brand, the founder had a simple reason for choosing the mythical creature as the company's logo, claiming that the company will never fall as long it bore the name "Harpy." Although there was no way to prove that theory, Harpy was a widely recognized coffee chain in Europe, and it suited that troublemaker of an author, Kelley Coin. 'Maybe it's not a bad choice after all,' Juho thought. When it first opened, there was an endless line of people waiting to experience the famous coffee shop, but as always, the fever was short lived. Opening the door with the picture of a harpy, Juho walked into the shop. If Kelley Coin really was in Korea, Harpy would be his first stop. "Not bad," Juho said as he sipped his cup of Americano. While it was bitter, it also had a nutty fragrance. With the cup of coffee in his hand, Juho walked out of the shop and saw ducks swimming peacefully in the fountain. Located inside a university campus, there were benches spread out in uniform distance surrounding the fountain. On the bench next to where Juho was sitting, there was an old lady who seemed to have just finished shopping. There was also a shopping mall across the campus, so it was common to see shoppers resting by the fountain. Next to her, were students working on their assignments on their laptops. Then, Juho heard some traditional music sounding in the distance. Other students must have been performing as part of club activities. The hand gong resonated in a steady rhythm that was familiar to all Koreans. The old lady bobbed her head side to side to the rhythm, and it seemed like there could be someone dancing to it while wearing a sangmo. (TL's Note: "Sangmo" is a traditional Korean hat that's worn by performers. Usually, there is a set of feathers or a long strip of paper attached to the top of it, and the wearer dances while twirling it, creating a tornado-like appearance.) Juho took a sip of his coffee as what seemed like a duck or a goose swimmed peacefully in the fountain. It was a peaceful evening. "Damn it. This piece of crap," an angry voice sounded amid the noisy gongs. At that sound that was rather distant from the area, Juho looked behind him. "Phones just can't take a beating nowadays," the man muttered, and Juho heard those words vividly as he saw the man's face. It was a familiar face, and Juho knew the man. He had been looking at him even a moment ago. Eccentric. Brat. Problem child. It was Kelley Coin, standing right before Juho's eyes. The hand gong resonated, and a cheerful shout came from the distance. "Where can I find some peace and quiet in this damn planet?! I swear…" He was cursing up a storm. It had to be him.

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143 Chapter 143 - A Guest from Afar 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl After fiddling with the phone in his hand for a while, Coin punched the screen on his phone. It was obvious that he was angry, and Juho was made all the more certain that he was Kelley Coin himself. "C'mon, you piece of crap! Show me where to go!" No matter how angry the owner got, the phone didn't succumb to his relentless threats. It must have taken after its owner's stubborn personality. Then, Coin let out a heavy sigh as he took a pair of sunglasses out of his shirt pocket and took his hat off, ruffling his hair annoyedly. As he looked around, Juho stared at him intently. Eventually, he realized that their eyes were locked. The sunglasses were looking in his direction. Despite knowing that there was no chance that Coin would recognize him, Juho couldn't help but flinch internally. "Hey, kid," Coin called for him. Growing impatient with Juho's silence, he walked in his direction to approach him. Upon closer inspection, Juho realized that Coin was looking at his hand rather than himself. "Where'd you get that coffee?" he asked in English accompanied by awkward body language. He seemed to assume that they wouldn't be able to communicate. Juho stared intently at his intimidating face. "Damn it. Of course you wouldn't understand. Hey, kid, that thing in your hand! Coffee! Do you know what coffee is?" Coin asked impatiently as he pointed at the cup in Juho's hand with his coarse finger. As Juho took many turns to look at his own hand and then at Coin's face, the foreigner responded with excitement, "Yes! That! Where'd you get it? Where's 'Harpy?' Can you take me to that creature? I might die any minute if I don't get my caffeine fix," he said, and then murmured, "Damn it..." "How fascinating," Juho said. "What did you say?" Coin asked, squinting his eyes. "Seeing how you're looking desperately for coffee, you really must be that person." "What the hell are you blabbering about? You know 'Harpy?' Harpy! That damn coffee you have in your hand! Wait, maybe they pronounce it 'Har-pwee-ah?'" Coin said as he emphasized the pronunciation of the word repeatedly. To which, Juho chuckled and responded in English, "I call it 'Harpy' too." "Oh, my God! You speak English!" It was hard to distinguish whether he was ecstatic or angry. Then, he added in a hurry, "Can you take me there, right now? I'll give you anything you want." "That won't be necessary. Follow me," Juho said as he slowly rose from the bench and then led him to the coffee shop. He was walking with the infamous Kelley Coin, the eccentric brat, and problem child. Just as Juho hadn't been aware that he was in Korea, most people in the country had to be just as unaware of his visit. "Are you here on vacation?" Juho asked. "No, I'm here to meet someone. Can we pick up our pace?" "It's not far from here. Once we cross that light over there, it'll take us less than five minutes to get there," Juho said as he picked up the pace, and asked, "Who are you meeting?" Scoffing at his question, Coin changed the subject, asking, "Do you read any books?" "I do." "How much? One book a month?" "More than that. Enough to know your name, maybe?" As they reached the traffic light, Coin lowered his sunglasses and looked at Juho, exclaiming... "Huh…!" ...as if impressed. "What's your name, kid?" After a contemplating for a brief time, he opened his mouth slowly and said, "Juho Woo, but feel free to call me however you wish." While Coin gave him an affirming answer, he didn't seem to have caught Juho's name. At a glance, Coin was a man with a figure enough stature to knock out those who criticized his books with ease. As the light changed, the two resumed their way to the coffee shop. Much like his impatient personality, Coin walked hastily without even knowing the direction. "This way." Juho led him past the large shopping mall and toward the bookstore that he had just been in. "Do you see the sign there?" Juho asked, and Coin sprang toward the Harpy sign in the distance. The people around glanced at the jarring sight of the foreigner running at full speed. By the time Juho arrived at the coffee shop, Coin was already on his way out with a cup in his hand that smelled potently of coffee. "Better?" "Not yet," Coin said as he opened the lid of his cup and poured the steaming hot liquid into his mouth. At the astonishing sight, Juho couldn't help but ask, "Isn't that hot?" "Of course, it's hot!" Coin answered impatiently, then walked toward the cashier again and said, "I'll take another one. Make it super-sized," he said in English. "Yes, sir… Wait, pardon?" As the flustered employee studied the menu in a hurry, Juho chimed in and interpreted on Coin's behalf. "He would like one more of the same thing, but super-sized." "Ah, sure." With that, the employee gave them the price, and as Juho interpreted for Coin, the foreigner took a crumpled up ten dollar bill out of his pocket and handed it to the employee. "Would you like a receipt?" "No, thanks." After answering a few more questions, the employee walked toward the bar and started making the coffee. As Juho turned toward him, Coin said, "How convenient." Juho chuckled quietly and asked, "Why didn't you come with an interpreter?" "Most of them are too slow, so I just came on my own. It's a way to warn those slowpokes that I'm a man of limited patience." 'I don't get it. Your name alone would've done the job. I don't know what he means by slow, but OK, whatever makes him happy,' Juho thought as he nodded light-heartedly. Soon, the coffee came out. Though Coin drank it hastily, he didn't chug it like he had done previously. By the time Juho tossed his empty cup into the trash can, Coin was already out of the shop, and just like how he had been doing so far, Juho followed him without making haste. Standing in the front of the shop, Coin was looking toward the other side of the street. "That's the bookstore." "I know. I see it," Coin said and made his way toward the store. As he contemplated for a little while, Juho decided to follow him. There was no way to tell if or when they'd meet again, and if Juho had really found him to be a hassle, he would have driven him away long ago. Lake, cafe and now the bookstore. Thanks to Coin, he was retracing his route thoroughly. As Juho walked into the bookstore, he was greeted by its distinct smell, and he took a deep breath by habit. When he glanced at Coin, he was taking an even deeper breath. "This store's pretty spacious. I guess it's not that bad to be surrounded by language that I don't know from time to time," he said with a satisfied smile. A foreign language. Gaining something also meant losing something, and having reached a point where he understood the language he was hearing with minimal interaction, Juho found himself in a place where he could no longer savor the mystery of a foreign language. "Is that why you wanted to come here?" "I told you. I'm here to meet with someone." With that, Coin walked further into the bookstore. Although there was no way to know who he was meeting with, Juho noticed that the expression on Coin's face grew all the more intimidating at the mention of the person he was meeting. 'I better keep quiet,' Juho thought to himself. As Coin strode about the bookstore, he picked up the book that he was standing closest to. "Hey, kid. What's this saying?" 'Man, of all books!' Juho thought as he saw the book he was asking about. "'Language of God.' It's the first volume of the novel written by an author by the name of Won Yi Young." "More like Yun Woo." As the translated versions of 'Language of God' were published, the news of Won Yi Young being Yun Woo's other alias spread along with the book. Juho saw the displeasure on Coin's face as he mentioned Yun Woo's name. Coin wasn't afraid to show his feelings. "Do you not like him?" "No, I don't." 'I see. I wasn't expecting to be hated by Kelley Coin,' Juho thought to himself as he resolved never to reveal his identity to Coin. It might be a confession that cost him his nose. Instead, Juho decided to take a slightly different approach. "How can you dislike someone without having even met them?" "I can't stand unicorns even if I've never ran into one." It was a rather emphatic answer. To Coin, there was no difference between Yun Woo and an imaginary creature like a unicorn, and that doubt was apparent in the way that he talked about the young author. With that, he looked around the store and pointed at the promotional banner, asking, "What's it saying?" "It's a description of Yun Woo." "Translate." Fighting the urge to sigh heavily, Juho read what was written on the banner. "Number one daily best-selling author, Yun Woo. Youngest winner of the Dong Kyung Literary Award. The shocking truth gets uncovered. Yun Woo vs. Won Yi Young. The work of a trend-setting genius. Exported to twenty countries, including the US, UK, France, Germany, Spain and Japan, reaching best-seller status in thirteen countries. Young Won Yi, Yun Woo." (TL's Note: Won Yi Young would be Young Won Yi in Korea, which sounds like the word, "forever.") "Enough," Coin said as he raised his hand, glaring murderously at the banner written in a language that he couldn't read. "I've been at the top for quite a while." "Pardon?" "I won awards until I grew sick of them. You know who I am, don't you?" Juho was well acquainted with him and his achievements, as his profile contained his yearly record of awards. He had swept every single award in the literary world. As Juho remained silent, Coin picked up a book beside him. "How about this one?" Unfortunately, it was the very book that was written by the author that he dreaded: Yun Woo. A bird on a white background. "'Trace of a Bird.' That's Yun Woo's debut title." "Damn it. Is there nothing but Yun Woo's books in this damn store!?" "This it the best-seller section. His books are the current best sellers, including Won Yi Young's." "Good for him. Where are my books?" he asked, looking even more displeased than before, and Juho led him further into the bookstore, where 'Kelley Coin' was on display. "Here they are." "Much better." A satisfied smile spread across his face as he saw his books being sold in a distant, foreign country. "It's quite different from where you're from, huh?" "The cover design is very clean cut, and the letters are rounder too. It's not terrible." Then, he opened the book, and Juho translated what he was reading in real time. The name "Susan" stood out, and Coin knew immediately which book he was reading by the time his eyes reached the third sentence. "'The Pearl Earrings?'" "Yep." As he learned the title of the book in his hands, Coin examined the book cover once again. It was a widely-known fact that one of the characters in the book had the same name as his mother. The mother figures in his books tended to be the most powerful and influential among all of the characters. 'The Pearl Earrings' was recognized as a masterpiece, and it was the essence of Coin's style. "But why is this the only book there is? I thought my books were popular in Korea." "Ah! This is a 'collection.'" Coin was known for his reputation as a prolific writer, and Juho remembered his books taking up three entire rows on a display rack. "I did hear about it from my agent once. So this is it, huh," he said indifferently, despite it being his own work. With that, Juho took him to the shelf that was organized by the names of the authors. There were rows and rows of books written by Coin. Aside from the books that were being sold in the bookstores, Coin had published countless others, including forty full-length novels, a hundred and eighty short stories, and a number of unpublished works in his study that were beyond count. He was truly obsessed with writing. As Juho translated the titles one by one, Coin looked at his books with a satisfied smile. "Which of my books did you like the most? I'm sure you've read enough to know." Juho answered without hesitation. He was especially fond of Coin's debut title. "'Witch Hunt.'" At Juho's unexpected answer, Coin slowly took his sunglasses off, and Juho covered his nose by reflex as he saw the look on Coin's face. "... 'Witch Hunt,' huh," he said in a surprisingly calm voice.

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144 Chapter 144 - A Guest from Afar 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Been a long time since I heard the name of that book." "... You don't say?" "That's right. Nobody dared to mention that book in front of me." Juho sensed that something was wrong. "I didn't overstep a boundary, did I?" "Boundary? Not at all. I'm curious if anything," Coin said, still looking serious. "What's your reason? Of all books, why 'Witch Hunt?' It didn't even make it into the collection." His debut title, 'Witch Hunt' was one of his least popular books. Not only did it get left out of the 'Kelley Coin Collection,' the compilation of his masterpieces, but every renowned critic considered it the worst book he had ever written. Yet… "So what? I like it." Juho was fondest of that book. Regardless of how it was received, he felt drawn to 'Witch Hunt,' and to him, it was the greatest book ever written by Coin. Reaching with his hand, Juho grabbed the same book that he had had in his hands while previously at the bookstore. Because of its unpopular nature, the book was still in the same spot where Juho had left it before leaving the store. "You see, I happen to be a writer myself." "What?" "I'm part of the Literature Club in my school, and one would often identify me as an 'ace.'" As Coin snickered at Juho's answers, his once intimidating face softened up slightly. "So, I'm well aware of how powerful and hurtful words can be. You can't see or touch them either, so you can't even put up a warning sign. At least knives and swords are simple. They make you tense up the second you hold one in your hands. Unlike words, it's much easier to recognize that it shouldn't be used against other people." Then, Juho looked at the back of the book, where the synopsis was. There was a character who lied habitually in 'Witch Hunt,' and the book never explained in detail how he had become a liar. There was no moral lesson or excuse. The character would just rave about meeting Santa Claus to a child, or describe the journey that his dying mother was about to take to her. "Whenever I read this book, I think of paprika." "Paprika?" "Yes. Not only is it good for you, but it tastes great." As Juho changed the course of their conversation from sharp objects to spices without warning, a perplexed look appeared on Coin's face. "Paprika can't hurt anybody, and it's quite colorful. I eat it for my own good." One's decision not to pick up a knife was not for the benefit of other people. "Think about it. You get to turn a sharp, metal object into paprika! How fascinating is that? It's exhilarating how alchemic or magical it is. You know what's even more fascinating though? It's not even that difficult. There's just no reason not to do it." Anybody was capable of holding a knife in their hands to hurt those around them. However, they didn't use it. After all, it was a knife. What was more interesting was that it was a choice that was or would be common to people. In 'Witch Hunt,' there were a number of people who were ordinary, yet smart. "This is not a book that encourages lying. One can tell by reading it. It's just a get together of people who prefer having paprika over a knife in their hands..." For that reason, Juho was fond of the book. No matter how unpopular it was or how ill received it had been by the critics, he was drawn to it the most. Although the book had brought the author himself a flood of criticism, it had had just the opposite effect for the young member of a school literature club. "... and some find that encouraging and comforting." Coin stayed silent for a little while, and then opened his mouth to say, "I hate paprika." "What do you like then?" At Juho's question, he shook his hand, shaking the brown liquid in the cup with it. "Don't worry. You can't see or touch words." They were not limited to paprika, either. They were free. "You arrogant little…" Coin muttered as smile spread across his face. That day, he was impressed by a boy he met on the other side of the planet. He realized that what was once the bane of his existence had become just a bit more pleasant to him. If the book had always had the power to impact its readers like how it had done to Juho, that meant that it was a good book, no matter what anybody had to say about it. What was once a festering wound transformed into something entirely different. Coin reminisced to the day when his book was first published. He was infuriated by the criticisms, and he decided to retaliate against those who had hurt him. However, it wasn't enough to abate his anger. "You got guts, kid. I'll give you that." Despite knowing who Coin was, the boy wasn't afraid to share his opinions, and before the author knew, his heart softened in the little time he had spent with the boy. Coin reached for his book on the shelf and opened it for the first time since it was published. Although he couldn't read a single letter in the book, remembering the content was hardly a challenge. 'It can't hurt to revisit the past. If a kid was drawn to it, then it might not be such a bad book after all.' Then, Coin came to the sudden realization that he hadn't been drinking his coffee. "How old are you?" While puzzled by his sudden question, Juho answered, "Eighteen." "Same age as Yun Woo." That day, the name "Yun Woo" became something much more significant than a mythical creature like a unicorn. With his debut title in his hand, Coin said, "I'm giving this to my mom as a gift." "Does she know how to read Korean?" "No, but it won't put her to sleep at least." With that, Juho followed Coin to the cashier and interpreted on his behalf. Suddenly, he heard a shout, "Kelley Coin!" The voice sounded familiar somehow. She had been arguing about who was the better author between Yun Woo and Won Yi Young with her friend when Juho had been in the bookstore alone. They must have stuck around. Each was wearing a look of disbelief, covering their mouths with their hands and squealing with excitement. "You're Kelly Coin, right?!" one of them said as she paced back and forth. "Ah, crap! I forgot to keep my sunglasses on," Coin said as he brushed his hand down his face. "They might have recognized you even if you were wearing your sunglasses," Juho said as he thought back to the author's less-than-welcoming tone of speech. He was chugging his coffee like beer even at that moment. "Could you give us your autograph?! Please?!" The two squealing, excited fans attracted even more attention, and as more people stared in their direction, Juho distanced himself from him one step at a time. "Well, I better get going now." "Hey, kid," Coin called for him, and he stopped in his tracks as he made his way to the exit. "You said you write, right?" "Yes," Juho answered calmly. "I think you have what it takes to write a decent book." With those words, the author walked toward the crowd, and as he saw the author taking pictures and giving out his autograph to his fans, Juho leisurely made his way out of the bookstore. The 'Harpy' on the other side of the storefront came into his view, and that place was much more peaceful. Retracing his steps, he made his way back home, receiving a phone call upon arrival. "Mr. Woo," it was Nam Kyung, and Juho took the opportunity to share the news. "Guess who I just met." "Kelley Coin." 'How'd he know?' "He's in Korea right now." Somehow, it didn't sound like that statement was in response to Juho's, so he listened more carefully and noticed that Nam Kyung was suppressing his voice. "Yes, I'm aware." "You read it on the internet, huh?" Although Juho had met Coin in person, he quietly played along with Nam Kyung as he sensed something serious. He did it to hear what Nam Kyung had to say as well. "Do you know why he's here?" he asked. "No." The only thing Juho knew about Coin coming to Korea was that the author had come to meet someone. Because of that, waiting for Nam Kyung's answer was all the more nerve-racking. "It's you." Thoughts flooded into Juho's mind as he remembered the intimidating look on Coin's face whenever he mentioned Yun Woo or that he had come to meet someone. "... Pardon?" "You, Mr. Woo. He's here because of you." Juho thought for a little while, only to ask again, "... I'm sorry, what?!" "Kelley Coin came to Korea to meet Yun Woo, and we just received a call from his publishing company. What should we do?" "... What do you mean?" "Would you like to meet him or not?" It was time for Juho to make a decision. 'What do I do?' he thought as he thought back on the things Coin had said to him. "I think you have what it takes to write a decent book." On the other hand, he had also expressed strong displeasure toward Yun Woo. "I mean, I gotta do better than a unicorn, right?" "Eh?" "The stakes are high here, and I have a terrible feeling that my nose is one of them," Juho said as he rubbed his nose. --- "I can't believe what's about to happen," Nam Kyung murmured as he paced back and forth anxiously in the largest conference room in the entire building. It was also the space they had prepared for their meeting with Kelley Coin. It wasn't common for the Zelkova Publishing Company to have a visitor from overseas, let alone a world renowned novelist. In most cases, meetings like that tended to take place after a prior agreement for things like lectures or special events. The author would often be invited to meet with someone from the publishing company staff in between their scheduled events. In other words, Kelley Coin was the first author ever to fly to Korea without letting anyone in the country know, just so he could meet with an author. "Mr .Woo, this day will be among the greatest achievements in the history of our company. "I think my heart it about to jump out," Mr. Maeng answered the editor-in-chief. There were less than five people in the room waiting for Kelly Coin's arrival. While Coin did demand specifically for a smaller meeting, Yun Woo's uniqueness as an author was also one of the major contributing factors. There weren't many people who knew what Yun Woo looked like even within the company. It almost looked like a secret mission as the handful of people waited for the world renowned author in the large conference room. "Are you sure that you won't need an interpreter, Mr. Woo?" "Yes, I'm rather fluent in English." The editor-in-chief asked out of concern, but the young author seemed quite confident. As he was about to ask one more time, the phone broke the silence. "Yeah? All right, I'll be out in a minute." As everyone in the room sensed Coin's arrival immediately, Mr. Maeng and the editor-in-chief rose from their seats and said, "Mr. Woo, prepare yourself." The editor-in-chief left a warning as he left the conference room in order to greet Kelley Coin, and Nam Kyung let out a heavy sigh because he had already heard the news that Coin had already met the young author, who had introduced himself as "Juho Woo." Nam Kyung looked at Juho, who was calmly looking around the room for a potential exit. The editor had never seen or heard of the young author losing his composure to that very day. However, Kelley Coin had a reputation as a trouble maker. It was a stark contrast to Yun Woo, who led a quiet life despite shaking the entire country with his writing. Although they both debuted at an early age, there was also a stark contrast in the way their books were received. Whereas Yun Woo's debut title was widely recognized and well received from the start, Coin's had been neglected and ill received. Yun Woo resembled peaceful waters, while Coin was violent and boiling with anger. Nam Kyung grew more and more anxious as he anticipated the first official encounter between the world renowned author and the young, sensational author. They were about to meet as authors, and Nam Kyung was nervous about what their conversation would be like. Considering Coin's reputation, it was more than possible that he would try to throw a punch at the young author. At that moment, a series of footsteps sounded from outside. Preparing himself, Nam Kyung opened his mouth and told Juho, "I might be able to hold him back for a few seconds." At that, Juho chuckled and answered, "Thanks for letting me know." "I'm not kidding. Keep your nose covered." At the end of those words, the door opened, and Mr. Maeng, the editor-in-chief, Isabella, and Coin walked into the conference room in order. Nam Kyung and Juho rose from their seats as the editor-in-chief and Isabella, Coin's editor, exchanged cheerful words and Coin walked in looking indifferent. Everyone's heart was rushing with excitement and anxiety. As Coin looked around the room, Yun Woo stared at the foreigner intently until their eyes locked. Then, Coin stopped in his tracks suddenly, forcing everyone in front of him to stop with him. As the air sank into a strange silence, Nam Kyung took a step back slowly while everyone quietly analyzed the situation. "Coin?" Isabella called for the author, but Coin's eyes were fixated on the young author standing in front of him, his opponent who had been writing astounding books under the name, "Yun Woo," the kid who stood on top of his lifelong achievements. "You little…" Coin said angrily, and everyone tensed up, except for the young author.

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145 Chapter 145 - A Guest from Afar 4

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Yun Woo?" Coin asked, sitting across from the young author. It was a confirmation. "Yes," Juho answered briefly, adding, "We meet again." "So you knew all along." "I would've introduced myself as Yun Woo, otherwise." If Juho knew that they would meet again so soon, he would have revealed his identity the first time they met. Taken aback by Juho's fluent English and their conversation, the editors cautiously studied the situation. "I knew that you weren't just a regular ol' kid. I should've known when you were talking about 'Witch Hunt' when you already knew who I was," Coin said, glaring at Juho fiercely. While there was a cup of tea or coffee in front of everyone, there was an enormous thermos in front of Coin, which was, needless to say, filled with "Harpy" coffee. It looked like it could hold two super-sized cups of coffee with ease. Juho imagined the look on the cashier's face as Coin placed a ridiculous order like that. Suddenly, Coin blurted out a familiar-sounding sentence... "How can you dislike someone without having even met them?" … exactly what Juho had said. It was the question that had come out of Juho's mouth while he had talked to Coin about Yun Woo. "You knew that I hadn't met Yun Woo, obviously." Usually, one would have asked if he'd ever met Yun Woo or asked why he disliked the young author. Unfortunately, Juho had been certain that Coin was yet to meet Yun Woo, and there weren't too many students in Korea that Coin knew who were of Yun Woo's age. "I admit it was a mistake. You didn't make a big deal out of it, thankfully." "Well, if I caught on sooner, our conversation would've been cut much shorter," Coin said, staring at Yun Woo intently. "So we meet." With those words, Coin remained silent, and Juho realized that he had come a long way from being called a unicorn. Coin took a sip from his thermos, and the room grew quiet for a little while. While the two authors enjoyed the silence, the editors around them were walking on eggshells. In order to shift the mood, the editor-in-chief opened his mouth to change the subject to the coffee Coin was drinking, "I heard the sales have been skyrocketing at the 'Harpy' since the news got out that you were in Korea." "That's an interesting phenomenon," Isabella answered quickly, and the rest of the editors chimed in to talk about Coin in Korea and Yun Woo in the US. The two authors listened quietly, and Juho opened his mouth near the end of their conversation to ask, "So, why did you want to see me?" At Juho's question, Coin took a big swig of his coffee and wiped his mouth, answering, "Because I didn't like you." Although Isabella kicked his foot gently under the desk, the author didn't budge. "To this moment?" "Somewhat." "That puts me in an awkward situation." "Relax. At least, I don't doubt your existence now," Coin said, and then changed the subject all of a sudden, "Why? Are you afraid that I'll smash your nose in too?" Instead of an answer, Juho responded by shaking his head. 'If I really was afraid, I wouldn't be here,' Juho muttered internally. Although he had planned out his escape in case of a violent outburst, Juho came to learn after meeting Coin that he didn't seem so reckless as to throw a punch on a whim, contrary to his less than welcoming speech pattern. Maybe he'd finally grown more mature. Then, Coin snickered and waved his fist, saying, "The first time I used one of these was when I was twenty years old. My first book had just been published, and I was evaluated as an author for the first time. They were mostly disastrous reviews, but I eventually came to accept it. What I didn't know was that there were those who hid behind those who were criticizing my book in order to criticize me as a person. They were using my book as a tool to brag about themselves. When I confronted them, they had the most absurd responses, asking me what I could do about it. So, I thought I should introduce them to my fist just to prove a point. Nothing fancy. Although, it was a pain in the ass dealing with the aftermath, like the lawsuits." The news of a twenty-year-old rookie author breaking the nose of a widely recognized journalist had been quite sensational back then. "You broke his nose though?" Mr. Maeng let out by reflex and covered his mouth with his hands. At that, Coin let out another snicker and added, "In hindsight, you can really tell how hopeless he was when it came to smelling out a good writer. There's no use for a nose without the ability to smell, so I just smashed it in. Well, I had and will always have words like "violent" following me around." The news spread to the masses, and there were those who judged him for his violent tendencies or gloated over him acting on his anger. Some argued that his actions were wrong, while others were much more tolerant of them. Some hated him, and others loved him. However, the time eventually came when everyone talked mutually about the end of Coin's career as a writer. Many thought that he wouldn't be able to set his foot in the literary world ever again. Juho looked at the author who sat across from him. The predictions had been wrong. Coin wrote a number of books within the span of five years, and the results had shaped him to be who he was currently. Juho reminisced to his past, when titles like "fallen genius," "pretty dressing," or "ghostwriter controversies" had followed him around until his death. Now, although different in approach from Coin, Juho was standing tall in the literary world. "You quit drinking, right?" "Do I look drunk to you?" "Just thought I should ask since we're talking about being labeled." Though Coin didn't seem offended, the editors around him were tensing up nervously. Aside from his well-known alcoholism, he had been a drug addict as well. Juho remembered what the author had said in an interview once: "I started it so I could write, and I stopped it so I could write." That sentence alone was enough to make Juho realize how tenacious of a person Kelley Coin was. "It was all meaningless," he said and chugged his coffee. "Give it a try if you're interested. It's the quickest and easiest way to find inspiration. Oh, wait. Maybe it's illegal here" "Coin," Isabella said in order to keep him from going any further, and Coin shrugged it off light-heartedly. Then, Juho shared reading one of his interviews and how his answer had left a deep impression on him. "That answer was strictly for interviews," Coin said, snickering. "You didn't mean any of it?" "I meant about a tenth of all that, maybe?" "What about the rest?" "I didn't want to die," Coin said as he took another swig of his coffee. "The ground kept sinking, and the world kept shaking relentlessly. What else can you do but shout for help when you're getting sucked into a world like that? When it got to the point where I was vomiting my brains out everytime I wanted to pee, that's when I realized that I needed to get my life straight." "Do you mean drugs or alcohol?" "There's hardly a difference. Honestly, I wasn't all that fond of drugs. I don't know if it's because they were cheap, but same goes for cigarettes, or anything that involves smoking for that matter. What I really liked was alcohol. Although, it turned out to be a nightmare of its own eventually. You're a teenager, so you'll get addicted even quicker." With that, he began to share his experience with alcoholism. While the editors took interest in what he was sharing, they couldn't help but be concerned about the young author who was still underage. Nevertheless, Juho listened to him intently. "First of all, forget about your lungs. Your teeth might fall out, but it's just calcium deficiency, so don't worry too much. Oh, don't even think about falling asleep without the help of alcohol. The moment you get addicted, you're only left with two choices: to drink or die. Literally. There's no time to eat or make a trip to the bathroom," the author said wearing an intimidating look and adding... "And this is where it gets really painful. Prepare yourself when you're quitting. You can't do it on your own, and your family won't be able to help you either. If anything, you'll get them sick, so it's best to go straight to the hospital. They give you mental treatment too, so that's nice. It'll take about half a year until you can think on your own two feet. Oh, and make sure not to get carried away by a sense of kinship. You don't want to be dating your own kind. It's much better to hate them. What do you think it's the first thing alcoholics do when they get excited over something? I don't know how many times I had to go back to the program because of that," Coin said, looking disgusted. "Go to a support group instead. I went to AA meetings often. It's cheesy as hell, but I gotta say, it helped. It's fun seeing all sorts of people coming together, sharing their life stories. Some are absurd, while some are trapped in their romantic fantasies or the sadness of succumbing to alcohol all over again. Besides, the snacks were quite a treat." Juho understood most of what Coin was telling him. As soon as an alcoholic stopped drinking, their emotional damage became apparent as they come face to face with things they had been avoiding desperately. They often fell into depression, all without knowing whether it was the alcohol or the depression that led them to rely on alcohol. Alcohol had quite an effect on the brain. It destroyed one's ability to think, making it impossible to distinguish whether what they had just put into their mouths was food or alcohol. They were incapable of recognizing that they were alcoholics, and because of them lacking a nutritious diet, they were extremely prone to things like malnutrition, constipation, dental disease, and stomach issues. Of course, their intestines suffered just as much, as well as their muscles and bones. "You mean the sweets." Alcoholics tended to be drawn to sweet food because the brain secreted the same chemical when they ate it as the one that it secreted when they were drinking. The chemical was responsible for pleasure, and despite having abstained from alcohol, it was also an indication that they were yet to be free of their reliance on the substance. Juho looked at the coffee in Coin's hand. Although he was speaking seamlessly, Juho knew that Coin was leaving out the truly tragic things of alcoholism. From convulsions to seizures, visual and auditory hallucinations, and hernias, quitting alcohol accompanied unimaginable pain, and countless people returned to relying on alcohol as a coping mechanism. Even if one had made up their mind to quit and managed to remain abstinent for a decade, the craving for alcohol followed them for life. The moment they gave in under their sense of security, the same hell came rushing back into their life. "Interesting," Coin said as he stared at Juho intently. "What is?" "Most people either freak out or give me a pitiful look. OR, they're either interested or curious, much like the editors in this room. It's only natural. Yet, you're none of those things." Juho gave no answer. "Were you an alcoholic?" Coin asked all of a sudden. "Kelley Coin!" Isabella shouted as the author made a remark that was well outside of what was appropriate. Thanks to her, Juho was able put aside feeling pricked on the inside. Then, all the editors, including Nam Kyung, tried to laugh it off awkwardly as if they had heard a joke. At the same time, they studied Juho's expression desperately. "What? There are alcoholics who are in their teens. If anything, the number's been growing." "Would you stop!?" "Hahaha!" Despite the editors' concern, Juho was laughing with Coin, and that drove away the dark memories that came back up to the surface one by one. Then, as Isabella whispered something into his ear, and Coin kept silent all of a sudden. With that, the distractions faded away, and Coin changed the subject as he kept his eyes fixed on Juho. "I gotta say, your vocabulary is impressive." It was a rather unexpected subject. "Are you really Yun Woo AND Won Yi Young?" "Are you still doubting it?" "A little bit," Coin said honestly. "Most people wouldn't be familiar with a lot of the words that I just used, but you understood as if you're listening to your native language. I did hear about your language skills, but I'm starting to understand more and more as we talk." Then, his eyes narrowed, and he asked, still doubtful, "You're not just pretending, are you?" "Well, sometimes." "That sounds like a 'no,'" Coin said, chugging his coffee.

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146 Chapter 146 - A Guest from Afar 5

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "When I first met you at the bookstore, I thought you'd been born in an English-speaking country or was a student abroad or just a really smart student." 'I wouldn't have thought in my dreams that you'd be Yun Woo himself,' Juho read the expression on the author's face. The book that had really challenged Yun Woo's language skill was 'Language of God.' "You must've read 'Language of God.'" "I have." "What did you think?" "I didn't like it." Juho was used to the author's blunt answers by then. Coin drank his coffee, and he opened his mouth and said before Juho even had a chance to ask, "You killed a cat." Juho paused for a little while and asked, "Are you talking about my novel?" "Yes. There's a scene where a massive number of cats get massacred. After I read that part, I was able to predict how the book was going to end." 'Language of God' was still an ongoing series, and not only was the last volume yet to be unpublished, but there wasn't even a manuscript for it. The faint idea in his head was yet to be translated into writing, and Juho became curious of how Coin thought the book would end. "So, what was the ending that you predicted in your mind?" "The extinction of mankind." Though it was a rather extreme answer, it wasn't entirely out of place. "There is no future for humans who would massacre cats." "Do you like cats?" "Not really," Coin said, emphasizing that he was only stating the facts proven over the course of history. He was deliberate in using words that were difficult to understand. Of course, Juho was able to understand every bit of what Coin was saying. Cat, sign of ominous future, death, humanity, extinction. After thinking over it for a little while, Juho asked, "You're not referring to the Black Plague, are you?" "The Black Plague?" Nam Kyung murmured at Juho's question, and it was obvious that he wasn't seeing how the word was relevant to their conversation. "That's right. It was the humans who killed those innocent animals, accusing them of being witches' familiars. Thanks to those idiots, the rest of humanity was blessed with a god-awful number of rats." The witch hunt first began to take place in the fifteenth century, and that also meant that there had been witches then. Many people believed that cats were witches' familiars. Those who weren't suspected of being witches burned those who were suspected of it alive, including their cats. The Black Plague spread by rat fleas, and the absence of cats meant that the population of rats grew uncontrollably. As the population of rats increased, so did the population of rat fleas. Humanity's greed for power and vested interest had brought them a tragic result, costing a fourth of the European population. Coin had used the word "extinction" to describe the ending of 'Language of God.' As people blamed and killed each other, they declared war against each other and made weapons to fight with. Those who watched from afar would be bound to ask, "Where is God?" "But we survived." The Black Plague had failed to drive humanity to extinction. Humans had survived, just like in 'Language of God.' Coin had been referring to the massacre of cats in the mythology of the book. In other words, the past. "We repeat the same mistakes, walking toward our own downfall," Coin said sarcastically. Although it wasn't necessarily a terrible way to end the book, Juho couldn't help but think otherwise. "What if they survive? Wouldn't they keep going?" As Juho asked, Coin took a swig of his coffee. "I'm telling you, I just don't like that book." "They do receive their due punishment." "You mean being ostracized?" "Yes." Animals witnessed what took place, and they sensed threat in what they saw, predicting that they would meet the same fate as that of the cats. In order to prevent such disaster, they created a written language that only humans wouldn't be able to read. Knowing that humans couldn't survive on their own, the animals tried to leave them behind by using their own written language. "But they failed." The existence of the four traveling companions indicated that animals' effort had ultimately been in vain. There were certain occurrences in the world where failure had yielded a more beneficial result. "All thanks to the traitor." There were bound to be crimes amid the animals who possessed intelligence. Rape, murder, and war. Ironically, what held them back in their efforts to leave humans behind was the influence that humanity had spread among them. The "traitor" commited a crime in order to repay the favor it had received from the humans. "Pff! That's barely a punishment. It's nothing more than a series of useless information One happens to discover as he delved into mythology. Just end it all. It's not too late." "I'll think about it." With that, the conversation ended abruptly. The story of 'Language of God' was still ongoing. Then, Juho saw Isabella staring daggers at Coin. Although he disliked the book, there had to be something about it that he had been drawn to. Otherwise, there was no way that he could've known so much about it. As Juho was made certain of that thought, Coin opened his mouth to say, "You showed your readers the unreadable language." Although it was a language beyond what humans in 'Language of God' could perceive, it was the component that he had put in the most amount of time and effort in. "I thought the readers should know what they were seeing." Although there was a traitor in the story, Juho had left out the details of the character intentionally, and because of that, there were a number of interpretations of the character and images comparing the different languages in the story floating around the internet. "Did you really come up with all those languages on your own?" He was a rather doubtful person. "Nope," Juho said with a smile. Then, Coin furrowed his brows and asked, "Is that a confession?" "I've always written with the help of those around me." "Don't be boring now." "Can't you tell? We've been talking for some time now." Then, Coin looked at Juho intently for a little while and nodded. The young author had presented more than enough proof so far. Of course, creating a whole new language took more than speaking fluent English, but it did break Juho free from Coin's doubt that an eighteen-year-old boy had created a language based on Old and Medieval English. In Coin's mind, the young author sitting in front of him had the ability to accomplish that. "People aren't made to live in solitude," Coin murmured as he remembered another character from 'Language of God,' one named Bird. Waiting for One to return from his quest in search of God, the character played a crucial role in enabling One to leave on his journey. After all, a trip could never be completed without a home to return to. Otherwise, it would be no different from wandering around. "Coming to think of it, there are a lot of birds in your books." "That's right." "Do you like birds?" "I don't dislike them." "Why birds though?" Juho let out a light chuckle and asked, "Why Susan though, Mr. Coin?" Coin clicked his tongue annoyedly. A character signifying something bigger, Susan was also a component of the mystery in Coin's book, and as soon as the author revealed that mystery, the book would become bland and flavorless to the readers. Coin was not about to let that happen anytime soon, and that was also the reason why he didn't give Juho an answer. "Speaking of which, why don't we talk about your books?" "We did, back at the bookstore." "I know for a fact that's not the only book you've written," Juho said as he remembered a book that had been mentioned just a moment before. It was Coin's sophomore title, which took him five years to write, and the very book that placed him at the top. "The book was about the life of a thief, right? It's well known that you actually joined a gang of pickpockets to write that book." "I used a fake ID to join them." "Were they not suspicious at all?" "Of course, they were. They recognized me the second they saw my face. I even "smelled" different. Still, they pretended not to know me. They probably thought that I'd be useful somehow." 'Belongings' was a story about a thief's life, and it was widely known that the protagonist, Bill, was a character based on an actual person. In the same way, Coin had revealed in the past that the victims in the book were also real-life victims he had seen in person. The book was rather explicit in its description of techniques used by pickpockets and confused the readers as to what to make of the author as a person. Despite its controversial content, 'Belongings' was considered to be one of Coin's masterpieces. Mixing the perpetrators and victims into a fairy-tale-like scenario, Coin found his distinct voice as an author, and Juho remembered being impressed by it when he had read the original. Then, Coin thought for a brief moment and asked, "My understanding is that 'Belongings' hasn't been translated to Korean yet, right?" "Yes, we're working on it, and it's planned to be published through our company. Thanks to Imperst Agency, we've been able to focus on your books, Mr. Coin," the editor-in-chief answered, coming to his senses after listening to the conversation between the two authors in a daze. "I see," Coin said indifferently while raising his eyebrows, his eyes moving left and right with them. He was thinking about something. Soon, a mischievous smile appeared on his face. Sensing trouble, Isabella tried to keep him from talking, but it was no use. "Are you talking about the 'collection?'" "Oh! You must have seen them. We've published four volumes so far, and there will be total of eight." "Who's the translator?" "We chose the very best in the industry, so there's nothing to worry about, Mr. Coin." "Is there an opening?" "... As in…?" "I'm asking if you guys are looking for another translator." "Uh… I suppose we are, for the future projects," the editor-in-chief answered, flustered. Considering the author he was dealing with, there was no benefit in dragging the meeting on longer than necessary. "Give him that position." "... As in…?" The editor-in-chief's voice shook. He wasn't reiterating because he didn't understand what Coin was telling him. With the author pointing at another person in the room, there was no way to misunderstand him. "Me?" Juho asked, sounding just as flustered as the editor-in-chief, and Coin let out a hearty-laughter at the sight. "Yes, you, Yun Woo. I want you to translate my books." "Why me?" "Because you're fluent and a great interpreter?" "There are other interpreters who are much better than I am. There are professionals." "Who cares? I want you to do it." "Why?!" Juho asked again at the unexpected request. As Juho sat dumbfounded, he felt someone tapping his leg. It was Nam Kyung, whose eyes were sparkling with interest. Then, Juho remembered his offer in the botanical garden about a book about languages. "This might be an opportunity," he whispered. "This is Kelley Coin we're talking. He's asking you personally!" Yun Woo's age and experience had always worked to his disadvantage whenever a publishing company went to him for translations. Taking up Coin's offer would mean that those things would no longer be issues. People would be astounded more than doubtful by the name Kelley Coin, and Coin, the eccentric brat and problem child, had acknowledged Yun Woo personally. "Not only do you get to stay anonymous, but it's also the perfect platform for you to put your language skills to full use." The center of attention of the entire room, Juho contemplated the idea. Although he had read countless books written in their original languages, Juho was well aware that translating took more than the ability to speak the language fluently. It was a task that involved rewriting a book in a new language. Even with the help of a language-acquisition device, it wouldn't be an easy task by any means. On top of that, he would be translating Kelley Coin's books. It was much too difficult for a first gig, and the stakes were rather high. Anything less than perfect would cost him and Coin a great deal as authors. Juho looked in Coin's direction and saw him rushing for an answer. He had to be aware, yet, he was willing to take the risk. "That'll be tough," Tough indeed.

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147 Chapter 147 - A Guest from Afar 6

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "What's so tough about it?" Coin asked, and Juho gave him one of the factors that made him hesitant. "I don't think I have talent when it comes to transcribing other people's books," he said as he remembered the time when he was busy with a transcription. His palate was simply too sensitive, and he couldn't help but taste every little emotion in the book. Knowing that he wouldn't have the option to stop in the middle, there was far too much at stake. "So you have no experience translating, but you have transcribed a book before?" Coin asked, catching on to Juho immediately, and Juho gave him an affirmative answer. "I don't know if your memory of transcription is good or bad, but there's nothing to worry about. Translation is entirely different." "How are they different?" Juho asked, knowing that Coin had experience translating. "It's the difference of what's on the inside and the outside." "What does that mean?" "So, transcriptions are all about rewriting the book word for word, in the same, exact shape, down to the last period. But translations? Not so. You're rewriting the book in a different language, and giving words different shapes, which means you can't avoid changes." Juho remembered one of Mr. Moon's lectures. Just as the word itself suggested, transcription meant copying exactly what was in the book, translation was different. "The challenge is making the least number of changes as possible from the original, the intent of the writer and purpose of certain sentences. There's no way around it but to focus inwardly. Besides, it's written by another author, so you have to respect his intentions." "So, in summary, transcription is copying what's on the outside, whereas translation is copying what's on the inside." "Simply put, yes," Coin said, adding, "Transcription is done solely for your benefit, but with translation, you have to take readers into account as well. And that's what makes it a pain in the ass. It doesn't matter how easy it is to read to your eyes. You take what you've read and transfer that directly to the readers without deviating from the author's intent." Juho felt exhausted from the thought alone. "If you fail to do that, then you end up writing a whole different book, and I don't consider translated versions like that as my own book." "Really?" Nam Kyung asked, putting pressure into his hands. The day had finally come for him to prove himself. He was quite envious of Dong Baek Publishing Company's recent success with the offshoot volume of 'Language of God.' Then, he told the editor-in-chief in a whisper, "This is huge." "Indeed." The editor-in-chief had been sitting there with his eyes sparkling with interest as he witnessed Yun Woo's language skill in person. 'Translation takes more than speaking the language fluently. I don't doubt Yun Woo and his skills, but on the off chance that his translations are less than average, we can always edit them on our end. I wouldn't even bother with translators who take up their editors' precious time, but the person sitting in front of me is Yun Woo himself, the best-selling author and youngest winner of the Dong Kyung Literary Award. On top of that, he's Won Yi Young himself. Better yet, Kelley Coin chose him personally as his translator,' the editor-in-chief thought as he quickly locked eyes with Nam Kyung. 'As long as Yun Woo is up for it, this is an opportunity for us,' Nam Kyung thought, and opened his mouth to say, "In fact, it's common for authors to take on translation gigs, very much like Mr. Coin here. Mr. Uhm has recently decided to participate in translating the 'World Literature Compilation.'" "He says it helps him with writing," the editor-in-chief chimed in. "We have some manuscripts that need to be translated. As long as you're willing, Mr. Woo, we'll get in contact with the person in charge." Juho contemplated as everyone in the room waited for his answer. 'I do have the time, but translating, huh.' He replayed the words said by Coin in his head. Unlike transcription, translation wasn't solely for his own good, and it was different from simply reading the original text. He would have to take the readers into account. Then, he remembered the notebook that he used for the transcription. The transcription was being put on hold indefinitely. However, he couldn't afford to treat translation in the same way. He would need to meet a deadline, and the readers would be waiting. Growing impatient of Juho's hesitation, Coin rushed him on, "I don't got all day. Are you gonna do it or not? Are you not feeling confident?" At that, Juho looked up and locked eyes with Coin. 'If translation is really different from transcription, it might be doable,' Juho thought, and the corner of his mouth turned up at Coin's taunts. "You're on." It was an affirmative answer, and Coin chugged what was left in his thermos and said, "Just know that I won't let you ruin my work." "I better start planning my escape just in case." "Why aren't you more ambitious?" "I wouldn't want to be all talk." Juho looked down at his cup, which was filled with a brown liquid unlike Coin's thermos. He would be translating a book written by an author who was distinctly different from him. "Well, I better write a new contract," Nam Kyung said. "Thanks to you, we won't have to worry about paying for a translation agency." "Let's make sure to get the numbers straight with sales." "Of course." With that, the meeting with Kelley Coin ended peacefully. --- "Sigh," Isabella let out a heavy sigh in her plane back home with Coin. It was a long day. Massaging her neck, she stopped a stewardess who was passing by and asked, "May I have a cup of orange juice, please?" At her request, the stewardess put on a friendly smile and poured her a cup. With the cup in her hand, Isabella questioned Coin, who had his eyes closed. "Do you need anything to drink?" "Nope." It was a rather insincere answer, and being familiar with his attitude, Isabella drank her orange juice quietly. "Do you think he'll be able to do it?" Coin asked, and his editor caught on immediately. "I thought you chose him because you thought he had what it took?" "No," he said with a mischievous smile. "The most important thing as a translator is to stay hidden in their work. The original belongs to the author, so overshadowing the original means that the translator failed in their job, no matter how impressive the translation is. It'll be a nightmare for a punk like Yun Woo, although I didn't say anything on purpose." "You're such an evil person." Although Yun Woo's success as a translator would reflect positively on his career, Coin seemed entirely uninterested in working together with another author. He was a person quite distant from the notion of unity. With that, Isabella looked away from him and out the window. A punk like Yun Woo. In her eyes, Yun Woo had a lot in common with the clouds that floated around freely. Known widely in the US, UK, and across Europe, Yun Woo was a young, anonymous author who had written two astounding books. Also known by his other alias, "Won Yi Young," he'd written yet another book in an entirely different genre, which was also exported overseas. Despite the controversy surrounding the author's identity, the book was received as a sensational success, and it was selling at an incredible rate. The dispute between Yun Woo and Won Yi Young in Korea became worldwide news. However, it was soon discovered that there had only been one author at the center of it. After meeting him in person, Isabella felt that he had what it took to drop a bomb of that scale. Having worked as Coin's editor for years, she immediately recognized that Yun Woo was different from him. They were like water and fire. They couldn't mix, otherwise one would overpower the other. However, the two authors were able to carry a conversation somehow. Yun Woo was a rather eloquent in his speech, and he understood everything Coin was saying. On top of that, he took up on Coin's offer to translate his works. 'A junior in high school. Eighteen, was it?' Having met the young author in person, those numbers felt all the more foreign. The fact that such a unique author would be translating Kelley Coin's works was bound to draw a massive amount of attention, which worked to Coin's advantage in reaching the international market. One was hot, while the other cold. However, they both shared a similarity in that they tended to draw attention, whether desirable one or not. People had strong feelings toward them, and they were moved in different ways, whether positively or negatively. Such dynamic had also carried over to the two authors' works. Some hated them while others loved them, and it was for that reason that Isabella was still working with Coin. She was in love with his writing. "I'm sure Yun Woo has people like that around him." "What are you talking about?" Coin asked with his eyes half open, and Isabella asked a question instead of giving him an answer. "You were moved by Yun Woo's writing too, weren't you?" Without giving an answer, Coin closed his eyes, and Isabella snickered as the author didn't even bother to come up with an excuse. There had been plenty of other books that had outsold Coin's, but he hadn't been as gentle. After cursing up a storm, he had simply gone back to writing. However, he was different with Yun Woo. Yun Woo's book had dug deep into his heart and moved him from within, making him lost, angry, and then eventually fly to Korea. After all, Coin was less than pleasant to work with, to say the least. He was stubborn and believed nothing until he had interacted with the author firsthand. While there were authors who tended to be tiresome at times, there were also authors who were interesting. "As soon as we get back, I need you to get started with the manuscript. This time, please be mindful of the deadline." "Yeah, yeah," Coin answered irritably, just as Isabella had expected. After staring at him for a little while, she too closed her eyes. Now that Coin was about to write another book, her days were about to get much busier. Later, he would publish a book with an old man who contemplated on what made a book great. --- After his meeting with Kelley Coin, Juho received the manuscripts for translation. The book that he would be translating was the same one mentioned in his conversation with Coin: 'Belongings.' Juho brushed his hand down the rigid cover with the title in English and opened the book. It was about two hundred and fifty-six pages long, and translating it would not be an easy task by any stretch of the imagination. In order to protect Yun Woo's identity and minimize his exposure, the publishing company discussed all details regarding the book through Nam Kyung, the editor, rather than the person in charge. Although Juho didn't have a preference, he didn't go out of his way to turn down the company's consideration toward protecting his identity. "OK. As for time, let's say… three months. That should be plenty of time since it's your first time and all." "Is that really plenty?" "Of course. There are even people who finish within a month and a half." "That's impressive." "Well, like I said, this is your first time, so don't stretch yourself thin." "OK." Then, Nam Kyung looked at Juho with a comforting look on his face. "Why are you looking at me like that?" "Nothing. It's just that I don't have to worry about you going off the grid." "Off the grid?!" Then, Nam Kyung looked into the distance and moaned as if he was reminiscing about something. "There are translators who disappear on the deadline. That's when all hell breaks loose." As a puzzled look appeared on Juho's face, Nam Kyung added that he was telling the truth. "It happens pretty often actually. The schedule goes all haywire, so we have set the dates all over again, and then we start going over budget. Like I said, all hell breaks loose." Translating a book was a long-term process that required strict self-management. Typically given two to three months, translators were expected to work autonomously, and the fact that there were translators who struggled with the self-management aspect was not an oddity. Then, Nam Kyung placed his hand on Juho's shoulder and said, "I'm not going to pressure you or anything, but I have to ask you to be mindful of the deadline. If you feel like you're gonna need more time, just call me right at that moment instead of on the date or the day before the deadline. I'll be able to do something about it at least." "I promise," Juho gave an positive answer as he saw the desperation on Nam Kyung's face. As Juho opened the book, he saw that the sentences were all within his level of understanding. Then, Nam Kyung thought for a moment and suggested, "It's also not a bad idea to seek advice. I heard you're close with Dong Gil Uhm. Is that right? Try talking to him." "Should I?" 'It might be better than nothing,' Juho thought as he nodded affirmingly.

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148 Chapter 148 - There is No Yun Woo 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Welcome!" Seo Joong, who was wearing a red sweatshirt and pants, greeted him. The day after meeting with Nam Kyung, Juho visited Seo Joon at his house. As Juho was led inside, the first thing that came into view was the pool table and its unmistakable presence. "You're here!" "Hi." Standing next to the pool table, Dong Gil was reading a foreign book written in its original language. Juho read the title of the book out loud. "'The Sun Also Rises.'" Again, the Sun Rises. The Sun Rises Again. There were a number of options for the translation of that title, and they were all from the same sentence. "Won Yi Young. Of course," Dong Gil said while holding the Hemingway book in his hand. Seeing the book in Dong Gil's hand, Juho would have been able to make a similar comment about him reading Hemingway. As Juho stared intently at the book, Dong Gil handed it over to him quietly. Taking the book from his hand, Juho opened it and felt Hemingway's distinctly concise style coming alive. Despite being published in 1926, the book was still awe-inspiring in its cleanliness and conciseness. While Juho was impressed, Seo Joong muttered from behind him, "His books are good and all, but they're a pain to read. He uses foreign words without even annotating them or anything. Reading his book is just a hassle at times because there are so many things you need to know. Names of regions in Spain, bullfight jargon… the list goes on." Hemingway had put a lot of effort into bringing the most out of the characteristics of the regions he wrote about. The foreign words and references to their culture definitely contributed to the sense of realism, but like Seo Joong had said, it was inevitable that it made it more difficult to read from the readers' point of view. "That's why I like his books all the more." There were several words that were often associated with the book 'The Sun Also Rises,' such as: lost generation, sexual disability, World War 1, or the nurses and bulls. "Encierro. To confine. To surround. Cattle driving." "Are you talking about the San Fermin Festival?" The San Fermin Festival was a famous festival in Spain that was known worldwide, and 'Encierro' was the process of transferring the bulls that were to be used for the bullfight during the festival. Simply put, it was a street bull run. As they reached the farm, the angry bulls and crowd anticipating the festival's main event came together in harmony, freely expressing their emotions. Because of the violent nature of the festival, there were bound to be those who were injured every year. After being a part of that very festival himself, Hemingway wrote 'The Sun Also Rises.' Juho stared at the book in his hands, and there were quite a few descriptions of the bullfight as if it was trying to prove that the author had actually been at the scene. "Can you read Spanish?" "Oh, of course. This is nothing. I'm Won Yi Young, after all." "Must be nice to be Yun Woo, being able to speak whichever language you want." "It sure is nice. That's how I came to take up that translation gig." "... Wait, what?" Seo Joong asked in disbelief. While Dong Gil was also wearing a surprised look, it wasn't nearly as dramatic as Seo Joong's. "So, that's why you wanted to come over." "Yes. I wanted to get some advice from you." "Which book? Why? At whose request? Was it the publishing company?" Seo Joong asked frivolously, and furrowing his brows at his friend's attitude, Dong Gil calmed him down. Then, he contemplated for a brief moment and went straight to the point and asked, "Whose book are you working on?" "Kelley Coin's." "..." The two authors remained silent. They had to be thinking about Coin's visit to Korea. As Juho waited patiently, Dong Gil asked, "You didn't meet him in person, did you?" "I did." "How?" "He came to me." "Why?" Seo Joong interjected. "Because he didn't like me." At those words, a serious expression dawned on Seo Joong's face. "You know, I was wondering what he came to Korea for when I first heard the news about his visit. So, you're the reason why he came here, huh? Well, it makes sense considering how his books haven't been doing as well. I suspected someone as rough around the edges as him wouldn't sit there and not do anything about his books getting pushed aside, but who would've thought he'd actually fly here?" Dong Gil said as he examined Juho from top to bottom. "Seems like you got out of that meeting in one piece." "He wasn't as scary as the rumors made him out to be." "You mean Kelley Coin?" "Yes. Well, he was pretty stubborn about me translating his books." Then, Juho went on to explain that the book he was translating was one of the books in the 'Kelley Coin Collection.' "Interesting. He didn't like you coming in, but he ends up making you translate his book going out." With that, Seo Joong began to ask about Kelly Coin, "I'm so jealous that you got to meet him in person, Yun. How was he? Did he really drink his coffee like beer?" "Yes, he did." "Was he high?" "He quit, apparently." "Was he really the size of a bear?" "Hard to say. How big is a bear, anyway?" "Stop asking useless things!" Dong Gil interjected as his patience wore thin, then he asked, "Did he really join a gang of pickpockets?" It was very Dong Gil-like to ask a question like that. Juho gave him a quick summary of the story he had heard from Coin himself, and then moved on to talking about his translation gig. "So, that's why I don't want to mess this up." "Understandable," Dong Gil said, nodding. "Can you tell me about your experience? What was it like?" Juho asked. "It was hard, first of all." Things weren't looking so hopeful from the get-go, and Seo Joong giggled as he leaned against the pool table. "What made it hard? Was it the deadline?" "That's just part of everyday life." "Ugh! Deadlines." While both Seo Joong and Dong Gil shuddered at the sound of that word, Juho was alone at peace as he had been turning down every single manuscript request. "Well, there are different aspects to what makes translations so hard. For starters, you have to understand the emotional boundaries of the country and of the language you're translating to. Otherwise, you'll find certain things about the culture difficult to understand." Juho listened to Dong Gil intently, and as Dong Gil kept on, he lowered his voice all of a sudden when he got to talking about his struggles. "You'll have to deal with the perpetual urge to make changes." "Make changes?" "Your sentences." Then, rising from his seat, he candidly went into Seo Joong's study and brought out a book. As Juho saw the title, 'World Literature Compilation 007,' he knew immediately what he was looking at. It was famous enough for Juho to know the name of the book and the author off the top of his head. Along with the name of the author, the name Dong Gil Uhm was inscribed next to it as the translator. Dong Gil Uhm, translator. "You're gonna have the urge to change the work of a famous author like this. You know, humans can be so full of themselves. Before they know it, they try to change the sentences to suit their tastes. By the time you realize what you were doing and are just about to fall in shame, that's when the urge peaks its head out again without warning." Juho had an idea of what Dong Gil was telling him. After all, he was an author, and one who sought to write hard-boiled sentences, at that. There was an overwhelming number of flowery words in Juho's mind, so it wouldn't be weird if he felt the urge somewhere in his heart to change what he wrote. "What's worse is that you do it anyway, despite knowing how much trial and error the author went through in order to write those sentences. You'll find yourself getting impressed by what you're reading, wondering about their thought process, all the while your hand is busy trying to make changes. It's hypocritical, really," Dong Gil said as he shook the book in his hand, and Juho's eyes followed its movement. "Well, as you struggle with that, you'll be able to meet your deadline before you know it." "I'm feeling the urge to drop out, even now." 'Maybe I was making light of this gig,' Juho thought. "That's not a bad choice either. Except, not everything about translation is hard and painful," Doing Gil said. Then, he opened the book in his hand. The entire book was translated by Dong Gil. Once a translator had finished translating, they were gifted with a pleasure that was different from writing a book. "It'll be a valuable learning experience for you. You'll be able to get a lot out of it." He was confident in Juho. "I'll let you get a taste for it," Dong Gil said as he flipped through the pages. Soon, he stopped and pointed at a sentence within a paragraph that wasn't visible from where Juho was. "I sharpened my sword," Dong Gil read the sentence out loud. "What could this sentence mean?" At Dong Gil's question, Juho's mind worked busily for an answer. "It could mean that the sword was getting too dull, so they had to sharpen it. It could also be about determination to achieve something, or preparing to stab someone. It could even be a ritual of sorts to bring good luck. Maybe it's a sentence that indicates that the protagonist is a blacksmith, or it's emphasizing a time in the past when people had to sharpen their swords regularly." As Juho thought out loud, Doing Gil raised his hand and stopped him to reveal the answer. "If you look at the sentence before it, the protagonist was ordered by another character to do something, a character who is not only terrifying and forceful, but also powerful." "Sounds like the protagonist doesn't have much of an option, then." "That's right. The phrase's meaning was an indication of submission. The sword was the protagonist's tribute to the character. If the sentence was about the protagonist wanting to get a revenge, I would've used stronger words to accentuate the meaning of the original language." Like how Dong Gil had described, that was only a small taste of what the translation process was like, and Juho was able to get a deeper understanding of its significance. He realized how sensitive of a dynamic there was between translating and writing, as well as the danger of turning what he was translating into something entirely different from what the author had intended. Then, Dong Gil closed the book and got to the main point. "So, first of all, the most basic skill you're gonna need is to be able to speak the language you're translating from, but I'm sure that won't be an issue for you." "Right," Juho said calmly. "You have enough writing and thinking skills to write a full-length novel. Not to mention your stamina." Then, with his eyes fixated on Juho, Dong Gil murmured for a little while and said, "You seem to have all the basic things you need." "Huh?" "I think you'll do fine." As Juho gave no answer, Dong Gil added, "Well, it's probably a good idea to start with something shorter, but my understanding is that you don't have that kind of time." Through his conversation with Dong Gil, Juho came to realize that he had already been doing things that were helpful with translating. If only things were as simple as how Dong Gil had described. As he replayed Dong Gil's advices in his head one by one, a snappy sound of solid objects colliding rang out of nowhere, and when Juho looked toward the source of the sound, Seo Joong was standing by the pool table with a pool cue in his hand. "Life is like diverging angles." 'What could he mean by that?' "Are you talking about the angle that's created as two balls collide? The angle where they separate?" "That's right." Then, Seo Joong positioned himself at the pool table, creating a bridge with one hand while lining up his other arm and wrist in a straight line. The cue was completely still, and he steered his right foot outward into an open stance. It was clear from his posture that Seo Joong was faithful to the basics. Leaning slightly forward with his back straight, his knees bent naturally as his face and elbow lined up in the straight line, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on the cue ball. Then, he stroke the center of the ball, and three consecutive strokes followed. "Shot," Seo Joong said as he watched the cue ball carefully and then straightening his back. Creating a fifty-five-degree angle, the red ball vanished into a hole after getting hit by the white cue ball, which stopped in its tracks. It was the diverging angle. "Theoretically, you should always get a ninety-degree angle," Seo Joong said as he picked a ball in each hand. Although they were different in color, every single ball was uniform in their weight and resilience. Therefore, regardless of how the balls collided, it would be mathematically sound to assume that they spread at ninety-degree angles. "Although, that's a different story in real life. Close, far, gentle, forceful. There are always variables, and you have to make your decisions accordingly." In other words, as soon as he began translating, Juho was on his own no matter how much advice he had received. "You're already used to it though." Seo Joong and Dong Gil had already been treating Juho as a colleague, and all creative choices like direction, characters, and plot were up to the author. Juho was well aware of that fact. "This is it, the actual battle," Juho said quietly, and both Dong Gil and Seo Joong agreed, saying, "'Pay close attention to how your sentences are flowing. Don't let your guard down. Understand your characters. These advices don't apply to you, you know?" "Well, I would've done it even without the advice." "Of course. You're THE Yun Woo himself." With that, Seo Joong took another shot, and that time, the balls dispersed at a thirty-five-degree angle. "Why don't we play a round of pool while you're here? You know how to play, right?" "Nope. I want to get as much advice as possible during my visit." Then, Juho left Seo Joong alone and went on to converse with Dong Gil, and right before he was about to leave, he ended up holding a pool cue in his hand at Seo Joong's suggestion. "Go easy on me." "Not a chance. I'm a believer in fairness. Your age won't work to your advantage here." Though Juho hadn't played in a long time, he was able to put his old skills to use and stood victorious over Seo Joong.

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149 Chapter 149 - There is No Yun Woo 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl After a quick walk around the neighborhood, Juho returned home. Because he hadn't been able to go out for morning exercises as of late, he wanted to keep himself moving. As he went into his room after taking a shower, he saw the manuscript on his desk, waiting to be translated. "'Belongings,'" Juho read the title of the book that he was about to translate for Kelley Coin's Korean fans out loud. He was already familiar with the book and with the protagonist named Bill, the thief. The story took off from his point of view. Bill was the leader of the pickpocket gang who lived off of stolen goods, and while he was an incredibly pretentious person, he was also ambitious. The aspect that showed Kelley Coin's voice the most was the environment, the fictional space where the protagonist lived in, which was divided in three sections. Bill lived in the slums, where the people had a less than average quality of life, breathing the polluted air. It was filled with dark alleyways, sewer rats, poverty, neglect, deficit and criminals. On the other hand, the entirety of Bill's prey lived in a wealthier part of the town, where people lived abundantly with money, comfort, and happiness. The wealthy often spent most their time getting together and their tea sipping graciously while playing with their cats. Most of them were wasting their lives in laziness or weariness of those living in the slums. Lastly, there was Utopia. Located in between the two parts of the town, this was Bill's work place, and the only place where the poor and the rich came together. Nobody was against the tourist attraction that was Utopia, and it was a place filled with beautiful views and plentiful music, as well as dreams and hopes. The place was often crowded with those seeking comfort and romance, and Bill hid amid those people, stealing their money and happiness. Lately, to help with his translation gig, Juho had been reading Kelley Coin's books often, including interviews and TV shows. In one interview, Coin described his own books as such: "Those who have never sinned in their lives will never be able to identify with my books, and those who have never been hurt will find my books boring." All of his books implied that humans were both perpetrators and victims of their own crimes. Therefore, they had the freedom to accuse each other mercilessly. It also implied that humans had the right to confront the wrongs of their own, because they were capable of hurting and being hurt by each other. Reading that statement had helped Juho better understand Coin's point of view as a writer. The author had wanted to make Bill, the protagonist, both a perpetrator and a victim, while keeping his actions from justifying his crimes. Because of that, Bill met his demise as an empty-handed thief who had lived his entire life stealing from others. Juho followed through the text according to how his head was interpreting it, picking apart tens of different meanings contained within a single word. Unlike usual, he had to read with a different standard: as close to how it was written and as Coin-like as possible. As the standard changed, the choices he made also changed with it, and as he made different choices, they also yielded results different from the usual. Bill was both pretentious and ambitious, and he desired to stand on top of others. Sadly, his dream was never realized. At the same time, he was timid and cowardly, and it was crucial that Juho saw things from the characters' point of view, like Bill's. Then, Juho placed his hands on the keyboard and started translating the sentences in the book. Although the outer shape of the words was changing, the meaning within stayed intact. He focused on the fact that he had to take the readers into account. It was an sentiment that had become natural to him, making it difficult for him to recognize it. Since the book had to be easy to read, he had to actively avoid using overly difficult words or twisting sentences around excessively, all the while maintaining the author's intent. At the process that was jarringly different from writing, Juho couldn't help but chuckle and be joyful at the same time. As he saw how the author approached writing and went about unfolding the story, Juho felt Dong Gil's advice becoming more and more tangible. As he acquainted himself with the book slowly, Juho thought of and acknowledged Coin in his mind, remembering that the book had been written by him and recognizing that a translator had no right to invade the realm of the author's creativity. Juho kept his eyes fixed on the screen. There was no need for a dictionary. As he thought of a slew of definitions after reading through the words, he went with the most fitting ones. Focusing on what each of the sentences were conveying, Juho doubled-down all the more in reading and writing. 'Click,' the device made a sound as it moved. Then, Susan made an appearance in the book as Bill declared the end of their relationship. "I'm leaving you," Bill said, and Susan asked why, but he gave no answer. Struggling to understand Susan's character, Juho's hands came to a halt. "Susan." Having been Bill's significant other since before the beginning of the story, Susan made a very brief appearance in the book and parted ways with Bill early on, never to be mentioned again until the story reached its climax. Then, she returned all of a sudden as Bill was at the verge of his death, staring blankly at him without even trying to help, ridicule, or criticize him. Simply, she let him go and stayed with him until the very end. 'What does this mean? What do I make of this character?' There were a number of interpretations of Susan's character, and Juho hesitated to make a choice. Then, he thought of a standard one and began to write out what he knew about the character. 'Susan. The author's mother in real life. Appears frequently in Kelley Coin's stories, mostly as a figure of power and influence. Guide. Often someone who's yearned for, but a figure of terror and domination in some books. She takes on an entirely different shape in this book, and she's the haziest and vaguest character by far in all of Coin's books, resulting in countless interpretations.' In the end, there was no concrete role that she was serving in the book. Coin had been giving Susan a different shape in every book, but what would that mean for Susan in 'Belongings?' She wasn't a figure of terror for Bill. On the contrary, they were lovers. 'What does that mean? What's her purpose as a character? What kind of role did Coin give her?' Juho flipped through the pages back and forth. She only appeared briefly in the beginning and the end of the book, all without any description on her appearance or her thought process. It was hard to get a grasp of her. "Maybe I should try meeting her." As Juho was about to close his eyes, he stopped as he was reminded of another author all of a sudden, Mideum Choo. She had a keen interest in Juho's writing process, and she had had a hard time understanding his method despite his explanation. She had once compared his process to a ghost. Then, Juho picked up his phone and called her. After the signal sounded a few times from the receiver, it stopped all of a sudden, and... "Hello?" … a rather low voice answered. She had to have just woken up. "I wasn't expecting you at all at this hour. What's up?" "It's lunch time." "Well, it's bedtime for me." "I'm on my way to go see a ghost." "Eh?" "You asked me to let you know when I'm on my way to go see one." When she found out that Juho was both Yun Woo and Won Yi Young for the first time, she was ecstatic and had asked him to let her know when he was on his way to meet with a "ghost." Needless to say, her excitement made it nearly impossible for her to carry a conversation. "Ho-hold it!" "I'm in a bit of a hurry myself. It seems like I woke you up, so I'll let you go back to bed. Bye now." "But you woke me up!" With that, Juho hung up the phone, set it on silent and went back to work. Kelley Coin. Bill. Susan. Pretentious and ambitious. Timid. Perpetrator and victim. Poor and rich. Utopia. Thieves. Juho closed his eyes and calmly imagined. Even if he were to meet with Susan, they wouldn't be able to have a coherent conversation, in which case, it would be better to talk to Bill. Made entirely of Coin's sentences, neither of the characters had been created by Juho. 'I will NOT try to change Bill in any way. Everything has to go according to how Coin intended,' Juho reminded himself. 'Stench. Darkness. A gathering of people who have nothing to lose.' Juho imagined the place in his mind according to Coin's description in the book. There was a withered tree and a mouse pinkie, lost and shaking uncontrollably. "I don't think we've met." Juho looked behind him and saw an untidy man who reeked whenever he opened his mouth, which was filled with yellow teeth. "Nothing unusual. There are always new people here." "Huh… You sound like you've been here before." With that, Juho thought for a brief moment and said, "Let's just say that I have experience with the place." The man stared at Juho's face intently and nodded light-heartedly. Although Juho found his gesture incredibly offensive, he overlooked the man's unpleasant attitude as he was looking to get something out of his visit. Then, the man plunked down on the ground. He was alone, filthy, and shaking. His appearance was no different from that of a mouse. At that moment, a smell Juho was well acquainted with peeked through the man's filthy stench. "Had yourself a drink, I see?" Bill chuckled and answered, "That explains how I'm seeing you. You're nothing but an illusion. You're old and filthy and don't even get me started on the smell. I can't stand the sight of your mouth whenever you talk. It bothers me that you're missing your teeth." That had to be Juho's appearance in the man's eyes. "Is that all?" Bill looked up, and their eyes locked. "I'm surprised that you're still alive." "Proud to be." Then, the smile faded from the man's face, and he examined Juho up and down, snickering. His attitude was rather similar to his creator's, Kelley Coin. "You got nothing to offer," the man said, and he was quite accurate. Juho had nothing to give him because he had been created by another author. "Whoever said anything about giving you stuff?" "Are you planning on stealing something then? Are you a thief too?" "No way." Juho took his notepad out of his pocket. It was filled with numbers and letters. "Here's the phone number. He might have what you're looking for, and you'll be able to talk with him." Bill caught on to Juho immediately. "Are you going to speak well of me?" "That depends on you. This is a trade, after all." Then, Bill's gaze turned into a fierce, murderous glare. Juho smiled, adding, "There's no need to force yourself. I'm not the only person who's got something to lose." "Damn rascal." Then, he threw himself on his back all of a sudden, and his dark colored skin became visible from underneath his thin shirt. A mysterious flake fell from his belly as he scratched it. "How about you go wash up?" "Why, I'd love to. If there was any water that is. Water's valuable around here, but on the flipside, we got plenty of fire. This place is full of psychos anxious to watch the world burn." Then, emphasizing that all water had evaporated from the face of that town, he added that he couldn't figure out if he had ended up with his current appearance because of the lack of water, or it had been his appearance that had led to lack of water. "You used the word, 'trade.' What is it you want?" At the question he had been waiting for, Juho opened his mouth and answered, "Susan." After Juho's answer, Bill wavered, murmuring the name repeatedly, "Susan. Susan. Oh! how I miss her." "Where is she?" "Who knows? We're not together anymore," he said as he searched through his pockets, but soon gave up. Juho knew exactly what the man was looking for. It was alcohol. He was looking for alcohol to drink his sorrows away. "Why did you break up with her?" "'Cus I'm a thief." At that moment, the mouse moved its long tail. "Have you ever been to Utopia?" "You mean the tourist attraction? Not yet." "That place is brimming with happiness. From exciting music to the welcoming scent, they lack nothing. No deficit or disease of any kind." "But they have thieves?" At Juho's answer, the man chuckled, and his body shook slightly. "There are thieves indeed. Utopia doesn't discriminate." Utopia was a free, non-discriminatory place. "I usually steal money, but to be frank, that's all there is to steal. You can't put things like music or scent in a bottle." Despite knowing how dull of a question he was about to ask, he blurted it out anyway. Juho couldn't afford to judge anything for himself. "How does it feel to steal from other people?" "That's the dumbest question I've ever heard so far." "That's a shame, but I must know." Then, the man searched through his pockets again in vain. "Well, obviously, you feel like you're better than them," Bill said, brushing down his face with his empty hand.

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150 There is no Yun Woo 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

"Utopia is a tourist attraction, so everyone there walks about peacefully, enjoying the scenery. Unfortunately, those folks can't stay in their bubbles forever. It would cost them money for them to settle in Utopia, and whenever I steal that money from them, the look on their faces alone makes my job worthwhile. They can't do a damn thing about it even when I take it from them in plain sight, and they don't even dare fight back, standing there, looking like idiots."

"Seems like you get a kick out of seeing the look on those people's faces."

"You're damn right," Bill said with a mischievous yellow smile.

"You don't think they aren't resisting because they're are afraid of you, do you?"

"Eh?"

"They're letting you keep their stuff, because they have homes to return to."

"What stuff?"

"Money. Those people have something much more valuable than money. For example, they have their lives. What good is happiness or comfort if you're dead? They can always go on another trip. Those people have fought through countless battles throughout their lives, so they have wisdom."

Bill gave him no answer, but he wasn't angry, so Juho observed him quietly.

"That's the first time I've heard something like that," he said weakly, and his voice echoed in the streets. "I got my money stolen once myself, and this whole time, I blamed myself for being an idiot. Why didn't anyone tell me this yet?"

Although Juho wanted to encourage him, he decided to change the subject instead.

"If you're looking to complain, Coin's the person you're looking for."

"Coin?"

Instead of giving him an answer, Juho looked for the baby mouse. It was yet to return home, still lingering around the pile of trash.

"So, why did you break up with her?"

He got to the main point. Bill was still in love with Susan, but why would he want to break up with her? Pondering for a little while, Bill answered, "Susan, too, had something that was more valuable than me. For example, her life."

Then, he searched through his pockets once again, only to be reminded that he was empty-handed.

"I was sick and tired of getting abandoned and deprived. I hated that I had to live my in fear of those things, so I brought it up to her first, and she saw right through my weaknesses, then left without hesitation. That's when I realized that I wanted her to stay by my side out of my own selfishness."

"How did she leave you?"

"She was sad, and then she left."

"Sounds like she's not as foolish as you."

Susan was inherently different from Bil, and she was someone Bill could only dream of becoming. Strong and wise, she had mourned the fact that she had been abandoned by someone dear to her, but at the same time, she didn't wallow in her sadness.

"Susan is wise."

"And thieves are dumb."

Bill had given Susan up, and he dreamed of becoming like her. His love for her was similar to admiration, a dream or objective. That was the kind of person Susan was to Bill.

He had said that the only thing he could steal was money because it was the only thing that he could grab with his hands. In that case, who was it that took Bill's love and dreams away? Utopia. The rich. The slums. It had to be something much greater, much more than an individual could handle.

"Tell me more about Susan."

Unlike previously, he listed everything he knew about Susan, who was no longer with him. He still had vivid memories of her, and Juho wanted to tell him that it was not too late, that she hadn't fully detached from him. He wanted him to know that there were still remnants of her within him.

"I see," Juho answered.

Unfortunately, he couldn't interfere in anyway. Juho was in a world created by Coin, and he had no choice but to listen to Bill quietly.

"Well, I better get going."

"You're gonna keep your promise, right?"

"Of course. What is it that you want?"

After contemplating for a little while, he asked, "Do you think I'll be able to see her before I die?"

He searched through his pockets yet again, and of course, there was nothing.

"Yes," Juho gave him an affirmative answer.

Then, Juho opened his eyes and saw Coin's original manuscript in the monitor screen. It read: 'I'm leaving you.'

From that statement, Juho was able to understand Bill's position a lot better.

Bill was a thief who was also deprived of something. Just like all people, he lived by giving up one thing while obsessing over the other, and he couldn't bare to accept such sad but obvious truth. In fact, he was hurt by it, and there was no one to comfort him. He never learned how to control his sadness, and he wandered about the alleyways like a lost baby mouse.

Along with a faint alcoholic odor, he gave off a foul smell and searched through his pockets habitually. Juho remembered what Bill had wanted: to see Susan once again.

"Coin loved Bill," Juho murmured and moved his hands busily on the keyboard. He knew for certain that Coin loved Bill, and that was the reason why the author gave Bill what he wanted, shaping his last moments so that he could see Susan one more time. Pretentious and ambitious, Bill was also timid and foolish.

Juho looked at the manuscript, and saw the title, 'Belongings.' Happiness, money and love. Whose were they? Being careful not to leave any trace of his creativity, Juho translated as close to the original as possible.

---

"So tired," Juho muttered groggily as he buried his head on his desk, and Bom asked as she looked behind her, "Are you sleeping?"

"Not yet."

"So you're about to."

Juho didn't bother denying her. He had translated well into the night, and as he was yet to be familiar with the process. Translating was proving to be much more exhausting than he anticipated. Juho felt almost as if he was being robbed by Bill, and the longer he interacted with the thief, the more he became conscious of his own deficiencies. Coin was an incredible author, and as Juho got further with the translation, he felt that all of Coin's choices were indisputable. At the same time, he found himself wondering what he would have done if he were in Coin's shoes, asking, 'How would I have treated Bill?'

No matter what he wrote, it would look entirely different from Coin. As the author, Coin was the only person who was capable of writing the book Juho was translating, and at the end, Bill had only been visible to Coin. He felt his eyelids getting heavy. His head had been filled with thoughts of Bill and Coin lately, and it had been the first time in a long time that he had filled his mind with thoughts of another author's work.

"Well, that's a sight I hadn't seen in a while," Seo Kwang said as he poked at Juho. Even though Bom tried to stop him, Seo Kwang didn't listen.

"What?"

A hoarse voice sounded from the desk, and Seo Kwang asked, "What were you writing last night?"

He asked that in a rather friendly manner, unlike his fingers.

"I didn't write anything," Juho said as he waved his hands.

"You're lying. I know what kind of person you are now."

It wasn't clear as to whom Seo Kwang was trying to impersonate, but it was less than impressive.

"C'mon. Tell me. Please. I'm an eternal fan ever since I ran into you that day by coincidence."

(TL's Note: This is Seo Kwang's subtle wordplay using Juho's two aliases.)

As Seo Kwang called his name desperately, Juho looked up and said, "I'm serious. I'm not writing anything."

"Then, what were you doing last night?"

"I was thinking about someone," Juho said tiredly, clasping his head.

Then, Bom covered her mouth with her hands, exclaiming, "No way!"

"Who is it!? Spill it! Is it someone I know?"

"You might, yeah."

At Juho's answer, both Seo Kwang and Bom grew all the more excited.

"What's their name?" Bom asked.

"Bill."

"... A foreigner?" Bom asked in a shaky voice, and Juho gave her an affirmative answer. Bill was a foreigner.

"Kelley Coin? As in Bill from his book, 'Belongings?'"

"Yep. That Bill."

Then, Seo Kwang's face distorted from utter disappointment, and Bom let out a quiet sigh as Seo Kwang explained things to her.

"You really know how to get people's hopes up. You've been into Kelley Coin's books, huh? I heard that he was in Korea not too long ago!"

"Yep. I met him."

Then, the two jumped with excitement.

"What!?"

"We met," Juho reiterated, and the two jumped from their seats, making Juho look up, similar to the time he had conversed with Bill.

'Bill must have been looking up at me like this.'

As he stared dazedly at the two, they grabbed Juho by his arms all of a sudden.

"What's this about?"

Without getting an answer, they dragged him out of the class and walked through the hallway toward the room that hardly anyone paid attention to aside from the Literature Club members. Then, closing the door, Seo Kwang shouted, "Yun Woo met Kelley Coin!"

It was like the story 'The King with Donkey Ears.'

"How and why did you guys meet? Did you guys know each other before?" Bom poured out a series of questions. As Juho contemplated which one to answer first, the door flung open all of a sudden. Startled, Bom and Seo Kwang turned around and saw Baron and Sun Hwa standing by the door, gasping for breath.

"There you are."

"I knew you'd be here."

Then, Baron walked toward Juho and grabbed his shoulder, saying, "You met Kelley Coin, didn't you?"

'How'd he know?' Juho wondered as both Seo Kwang and Bom stood there asking themselves the same question. Then, before Juho even had the opportunity to ask, Sun Hwa opened her mouth and said, "The media is going crazy right now, saying that Kelley Coin mentioned Yun Woo. Apparently, he came to Korea to meet Yun Woo, and he did actually meet with him. He asked Yun Woo to translate his book."

It was a summary that was both clean and straightforward, and there was nothing uncomfortable about it. It was the result of having trained in the Literature Club. Then, Juho imagined Coin disclosing the news of having Yun Woo translate his books without discussing it with his editor, Isabella, before. After all, he was unstoppable.

"Translation?"

"Yeah. Apparently, Yun Woo's going to be translating one of his books. This is Kelley Coin we're talking about!"

Then, with her mouth agape, Bom murmured, "So, that's why you said Bill…"

"Bill?" Sun Hwa asked, but Bom was too taken aback to give her an answer. Then, Juho looked at Seo Kwang, and saw that he was also looking at him. Seo Kwang stood quietly for a little while, and then began to ask questions uninterruptedly, "Oh, my gosh. THE Kelley Coin? Traveled all the way to Korea to meet Yun Woo? How's your nose? Did he punch you?"

"I'm OK, fortunately," Juho answered quietly.

"Is Kelley Coin that famous?" Sun Hwa asked Bom, and Bom explained things to Sun Hwa by using a famous comic book author as an example. Then, Sun Hwa gave Juho an envious look.

"So, where's the autograph?"

"... 'Scuse me?"

"His autograph. Where is it?"

Juho raised his empty hands, saying, "I don't have it, unfortunately."

As disappointment appeared on Baron and Seo Kwang's faces, Juho added, scratching his head, "Honestly, I forgot."

"That was the opportunity of a lifetime!"

"I'm sure we'll meet again."

"Oh, I'm sure, Mr. Woo. When the day comes, get us his autograph too."

"The perks of having Yun Woo as a friend."

Then, the door flung open once again, and the five pairs of eyes turned toward it. Bo Suk was standing by the door, and the room sank into a sudden silence.

"I heard Yun Woo?"

The club members exchanged glances. Although it was always possible to give her an ambiguous explanation, Juho knew that she wasn't a bigmouth. Besides, even if she were to go around telling others, no one would take her words seriously.

Then, Juho looked at his three classmates and the junior who were frozen in place. None of them was so narrow-minded as to criticize Juho for telling the freshman about his identity.

"You heard right," he said, and the others gasped. "I'm Yun Woo."

Juho smiled, and Bo Suk's eyes sparkled with curiosity. Then, remembering him recommending books written by Yun Woo, she turned her eyes to Seo Kwang.

"So, that's why you said Yun Woo…" she said and checked the hallway calmly before walking into the room and closing the door. "Are you really Yun Woo and Won Yi Young? THE Yun Woo that Kelley Coin came all the way to Korea for, who's also getting his hands on translating?"

"Yep."

At the brief, yet emphatic answer, her mouth gaped open, and she exclaimed, "That's unbelievable!"

She was quite impressed.

"Oh, my goodness. Is this real? Did I just become one of Yun Woo's acquaintances!? Wow!"

"That's right. I understand what you're feeling right now, but try to calm down," Sun Hwa said as she patted Bo Suk on her back, but the freshman grew all the more excited as if Sun Hwa's words had had the opposite effect.

Then, she asked a random question out of the blue, "Juho, did you study abroad?"

"Study abroad?"

"Yeah. The internet's going crazy right now with people saying that Yun Woo's a foreigner, mixed, a student abroad, a relative of Coin, or a member of Mensa. There are people questioning whether an eighteen year old is translating a book, and some are even claiming that he's not actually eighteen!" she said in disbelief. "And I get to ask all those questions to Yun Woo in person!"

Sensing that his school life was about to become a lot more tiresome, Juho briefly second-guessed his decision to disclose his identity to the freshman.

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151 There is no Yun Woo 4

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "That'll do for the night." Juho rested his eyes for a little while and looked out the window. Feeling hazy from translating for an extended period of time, he remembered a conversation he had had with Nam Kyung over the phone not too long ago. Bringing up the company website that had crashed yet again, he groaned, "Our website won't last much longer at this rate. All thanks to you, Mr. Woo." There was joy in his voice. It was already widely known news that the infamous Kelley Coin had visited Korea in order to meet with Yun Woo to personally put the young author in charge of translating his book. Being the only two media between the young author and his readers, both the Zelkova and Dong Baek Publishing Companies had been dealing with inquiries flooding their offices. "For now, I've told readers that Yun Woo is in the process of translating," Nam Kyung said, listing some of the most extraordinary questions one by one. "Some were asking if you're from another country, while others were asking where you went to study abroad. The questions weren't just limited to 'Language of God,' but a lot of people were curious about your language skills, and I had quite a few people asking how they could be like you. There was a broadcast producer looking for you too, and a lot of people were asking about your age. Oh, and what you talked about with Kelley Coin as well." Juho chuckled as he imagined the situation. thinking of the look on Nam Kyung's face frantically answering a series of ridiculous questions and phone calls. He could only imagine how hard Nam Kyung was working. "A lot of the questions were just downright ridiculous, but on the other hand, I can kind of see where these people are coming from. It makes sense that they're so curious about Yun Woo and his identity, or whether if he even exists." Adding jokingly that it was a blessing to be in the minds of so many people, Nam Kyung cleared his throat and changed the subject. "Anyway, how's translating?" "Hard to say. It's my first time, so I can't even grasp how good or bad of a job I've been doing." "Are you getting stuck anywhere?" "There was one place, but I managed to get through." "How many pages have you been translating a day?" Juho thought for a little while, and then asked, "Do translators usually work knowing how many pages they're going to translate?" "Well, that depends on the person. How they manage their schedule until the deadline is entirely up to them, but I figure most translators would know the minimum number of pages they have to translate in a day." "I have no idea." Even as a writer, Juho was never conscious of how many pages he wanted to write for that day, and he had been approaching translation in the same manner. Then, Nam Kyung asked in a slightly shaky voice, "... I think I'm starting to get concerned. Have you calculated how many days you have left? You have to translate the entire book within three months." Seeing Nam Kyung's concern, Juho told him his progress, "I translated about twenty-four pages. Isn't that enough?" Nam Kyung grew silent, and then asked after a little while, "In one day? Twenty-four?" "Yes." The editor's shaky voice sounded from the receiver once again. That time, he was shaky for a different reason. "I think you can take it a little easier, Juho. It seems like you can afford to take about a week off. You haven't been translating like that everyday, have you?" Nam Kyung was taken aback by Juho's answer. Even if Juho were to translate eight pages a day, he would have been able to finish the entire book in about a month. Despite being given three months, Juho was translating at a pace significantly faster than Nam Kyung had expected. Considering the nature of the book, it was truly astounding. Hearing how Nam Kyung was taken aback by his progress, Juho decided not to tell him about the days when he had translated even more. "I don't have any routines that I follow. There are days when I don't translate." "... You're working on 'Belongings,' right?" "Of course." "That's not an easy book to translate." There were all kinds of people in this world, and in the same way, there were all kinds of books. Therefore, it was only natural that some books took more or less time than others. The vocabulary in Kelley Coin's books were not at all easy. In other words, readers would have to spend a significant amount of time on their dictionaries. On top of that, Coin frequently used modifiers in his sentences, making them easy to misunderstand. "I'm curious about your process. Where do you find words?" "In my head." "…" As he sensed concern rising to the surface of his mind, Nam Kyung said, "You know that you have to take things like 'readability' into account, right? The translation has to be culturally relevant." "Of course. I've been paying close attention to that. I'm starting to get a better idea of what translation looks like." "You can't be changing any of the sentences, all right?" "Mr. Uhm taught me the importance of that, thoroughly." "Make sure to follow the author's intent closely." "Every moment." "And understand the characters." "That's basic." At Juho's confident answers, Nam Kyung added, "You gotta pace yourself. You've written novels, so you know how important your stamina is, right?" "Of course. I might not follow a routine, but I have been conscious of my pace." The fact that he was able to translate a book written by Kelley Coin at such a pace was simply astounding. Then, their conversation came to an end as Nam Kyung warned Juho a few more times. Looking away from the window, Juho contemplated for a little while and opened his email, which was filled with the messages he had been exchanging with Coin. Having written to Coin about his encounter with Bill most recently, Juho had been sharing what he felt as he read the book, as well as his interpretation of Susan. In the end, he tried poking at the author's affection toward the character, Bill. "Not helpful." Mostly replying with hostility, Coin refused to answer any questions regarding interpretations, threatening to hunt Juho down in Korea if the young author were to ruin his book. It was just as Juho had expected, as he hadn't expected a proper reply from the start. After thinking for some time, Juho began to write a new email about 'Belongings' to the author. The clear boundaries between the three parts of the town became fuzzier toward the end. A cat that left its rich owner in hunt for a mouse. Bill, who met his demise in Utopia, and Susan, who watched him quietly. Other thieves stealing Bill's belongings after his death. The book pitched an endless chain of questions without providing any answer, and Juho planned on putting off asking one of them, at least until he had finished translating. "He'll never give me a proper answer." Then, after sending the finished email, Juho went to bed. The following day was slightly rowdier than the day before. --- "The birth of a new blockbuster! 'Trace of a Bird.'" "'Trace of a Bird' ranks third most watched movie." "'Trace of a Bird,' first film adaptation of a Korean Novel to reach ten million viewers." "Yun Woo, the sensation of the century! His opinions on his success?" "A flash interview with Myung Joo Mu, the biggest beneficiary of the recent success of 'Trace of a Bird.' Mentions of the author?" "Sang Young Ju, the director on the rise, shares his success factors for the movie 'Trace of a Bird.'" "'Trace of a Bird' presents a new potential in Korean film!" "The author of 'Trace of a Bird' remains silent. Publishing company states 'translation in progress.'" "'Yun Woo fever' hits the Korean peninsula! How did he get to where he is?" "So, what do you wanna do?" Nam Kyung asked with a cup of Job's Tears tea in front of him, and Juho contemplated on how to answer his question. "I'm not sure." "About what?" a husky voice interjected all of a sudden, and the man looked briefly around the botanical garden until Juho came to view. Nam Kyung and Sang Young. It had been a while since the three had met together. Despite having directed a movie that had reached ten million viewers, the director still insisted on wearing his old, dusty pair of blue jeans. "You face it like Yun Woo. I can speak on your behalf if you write me a few things," Sang Young said. The three had come together to discuss a matter regarding 'Trace of a Bird,' the movie, which had reached ten million viewers. After discussing with the publishing company and the director, Juho had agreed to write out a review of the movie instead of being interviewed. It was a similar tactic to the one used at the award ceremony for the Dong Kyung Literary Award. Considering how well it was received back then, Juho had decided to take a similar action. Of course, there would be no progress without the author's consent, and both Nam Kyung and Sang Young had come to the garden to convince Yun Woo. "Would anybody bother to read my review?" "You have no idea how hectic it is at my office right now. The entrance is flooding with reporters desperate to hear something from you. I even saw them interviewing some of our staff who had nothing to do with you." Neither Nam Kyung or Sang Young were at the garden for no apparent reason. "I'm sure things will die down eventually." "I doubt it. If anything, it'll get worse." "It's not like I'm winning an award or anything. Isn't this a little awkward?" "What do you mean? It's more awkward that you're not saying anything. This is nothing different from the award ceremony. In fact, think of it as 'thoughts on the movie reaching ten million viewers,'" Sang Young said, and let out a hearty laughter. He seemed like he was in a great mood and he had every reason to be. "But I have a translation gig to worry about," Juho said. To which, Nam Kyung answered, "I know that you knock out at least twenty pages a day." "I'm just saying that I'd like to focus on it as much as possible." "It'll barely take any time. You can write as little as five lines." "That's just insincere though." "I guess you gotta write to your heart's content then, Mr. Woo." At Nam Kyung's words, everyone grew silent, and the two men waited for Juho's decision patiently. While the young author took time to think, it wasn't long before he reached a conclusion. It was something to be undoubtedly grateful for that a film adaptation of his movie had reached ten million viewers, and writing a review on it wasn't a difficult task by any means. If it meant making his readers happy, Juho was more than willing to pick up his pen. Besides, the two men he was indebted to the most were sitting in front of him. "OK." Amid the loud cheers, Juho took a pen and a notepad out of his pocket, and a puzzled look appeared on the two men's faces. "In fact, I'll write one right now." "Eh!?" "Now?!" "Yes, now," Juho reiterated. "You can write anywhere, right?" … As long as there was pen and paper. Depending on the situation and the person, writing was more than possible even without them. "It's quiet here, so it should be OK." As long the two remained quiet, there would be plenty of silence in the secluded area within the botanical garden, separated from the outside world by an old door. Nam Kyung and Sang Young agreed willingly. After taking some time to organize his thoughts, Juho opened his notepad and began to write out his review on it. The words in his head began to take shape as the black ink filled the white pages, and no one dared to make a sound. "Uh…" "Huh?" "This is a bit awkward," Juho said as the two kept their eyes fixated on his hands. Despite the silence, Juho was uncomfortable with them gazing at him, and as he looked up, Sang Young said caressly, "Well, what does one do when watching Yun Woo writing before their eyes?" "I'm OK with that to a degree. You guys are looking at my hands like you want to burn a hole through them." "Pff. Don't be cute now. There are three pairs of eyes here at most. Two of them being yours." The director wasn't about to let up anytime soon. "Why don't you text your wife or something?" Juho suggested. "We don't need anything like that to stay connected. Call it a telepathic bond." Then, Juho looked away from him and asked Nam Kyung, "Don't you have any manuscripts that you need to be looking at? You have to work overtime if you fall behind, don't you?" "How can even I dare to bring my work with me when I'm meeting with you, Mr. Woo?" While Sang Young declared openly that he insisted on watching, Nam Kyung quietly agreed from the side. Left with no choice, Juho moved his hands busily and wrote out his appreciation for his fans as he endured the two giving him piercing gazes. Though unintentional, it almost felt as if he were in middle of a training session of sorts, and as he came to accept the reality of the situation, Juho decided to get it done as quickly as possible. "Man! He's fast." "So, that's how he writes." Though he heard murmurs from time to time, Juho kept on writing as he tried to ignore them to the best of his abilities.

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152 There is No Yun Woo 5

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

Sang Young was out with his wife, Soo Jung, for an interview celebrating the movie 'Trace of a Bird' reaching ten million viewers. Surrounded by cameras in an office decorated mostly in white, they were reviewing a series of expected questions with a broadcast reporter. As he looked around the busy office, Sang Young realized that he had grown familiar with the sight only recently.

"You OK, hon? You looked like you checked out for a second there," Soo Jung asked her husband.

"Oh, it's nothing. I was just thinking about how fortunate we were."

Despite the lack of context, she caught on immediately and smiled.

"It wasn't a coincidence, you know."

It was an opportunity that Sang Young had worked desperately for, and that opportunity bore a fruit of success for him and those who contributed to the production of the movie. In a world full of people and relationships, there was no room for coincidences.

"Right."

Sang Young answered his wife with his husky voice. Though it sounded worn out, his voice wasn't always as harsh as it was at present. As far as he remembered, his slightly younger self had had a voice that sounded much smoother and more pleasant, and his current voice was one of the results of an event that had taken place at some point in his life. After all, it was with that husky voice that he had been saying the young author's name.

"What are you talking about? You've sounded like that since you were born!"

"That's harsh."

Sang Young felt slightly relieved from Soo Jung's light-hearted joke. He was living that moment in the present because he had met his wife, and his encounter with a particular book had pointed him in a direction that proved to be crucial to his life. No matter what they looked like, encounters were essential components of a person's life.

"All right! We will officially begin our interview now. Are you guys OK with that?"

"Yes."

The reporter who was hosting the interview struck up a conversation with the director and his wife. With the camera rolling, the reporter received a signal and started off with a question that had been written down prior.

"So, your movie reached ten million viewers just recently. How do you feel?"

Despite the boring question, Sang Young gave a sincere answer, "It still doesn't feel entirely real, but I believe that people like Soo Jung here, who is sitting next to me, and the actors and the crew contributed much more to the film than I did."

Then, Soo Jung's turn came.

"I know that Mr. Ju doesn't sound all that excited, but at home, he was jumping up and down with joy. One time, we held each other and screamed. It was a lot of fun," Soo Jung said, and the reporter laughed cheerfully.

"How do you think 'Trace of a Bird' was able to reach ten million viewers?"

"I'm sure there are a number of factors, but what I see as the biggest factor is the fact that we made the most out of the original. It kind of sounds like I'm blowing my own trumpet here, but that's what we decided to do from the get-go, and we actually carried it out, so I'll just boast confidently."

"He's right. A majority of the viewers agree with Mr. Ju's statement," Soo Jung added.

Agreeing with her, the reporter asked a more specific question, "Was there a something that caused you to decide to stay faithful to the original?"

"I believe I've already answered this question elsewhere, but I'll say it again anyway. There was no other reason for my decision aside from the book itself. I learned about 'Trace of a Bird,' and I read it without much thought. Then, I fell in love with it. So much so, that I looked through it a number of times throughout the day. I thought about it when I ate, as well as in my dreams, where I was the protagonist of the book. What would a person like that do if he didn't make a movie that stayed true to its original?"

In other words, the movie was created by a fan of the original, and it had been an obvious choice.

"Speaking of which, I've been meaning to ask about that. My understanding is that there were several directors who were interested in making a film adaptation of the book. You probably remember reading about it on the news, right? 'Yun Woo turns down film adaptation offer.' I don't know how I'll sound when I say this, but honestly, I was somewhat puzzled when I first heard that you were directing the movie. Let's just say that it was not something I was expecting."

"I fully understand. I was surprised myself."

"I'm very curious as to how you managed to convince Yun Woo."

As he remembered something, Sang Young smiled and said, "There was nothing fancy enough that I said that convinced the author. I just kept bothering him. I'd been trying to kick the ball into the net, if you will. Needless to say, I was quite pretentious at times."

Although the reporter wanted him to elaborate, Sang Young spoke sparingly.

"In hindsight, it seems like you really were the best director for the movie. Do you think Yun Woo saw something in you?"

"Perhaps."

Sang Young gave a light-hearted answer to the reporter's slightly exaggerated remark, all the while thinking that Yun Woo might have seen something special in him as a director.

"Was there any difficulty in the casting process?"

That time, Sang Young answered immediately, "Not at all. Practically everyone in the crew knew about 'Trace of a Bird,' and a majority of them were very into the book. There was often mention of the book during every break. I remember thinking, 'Would there ever be another movie set like this elsewhere?'"

Because everyone had carried 'Trace of a Bird' around with them, Sang Young didn't even have to remind his actors to read the original.

Then, Soo Jung chimed in, "Seriously! One time, we heard the news that Yun Woo was coming out with a new book while we were filming, and the whole place shook in celebration. It was such a peculiar set."

"That does sound like one peculiar movie set."

With that, the reporter moved on to the next question.

"Now, about the actor that played the protagonist's brother in the movie. Myung Joo Mu has been drawing a lot of attention for his performance."

"We've been keeping our eyes on him since the audition as well. Myung Joo Mu excels when it comes to sad scenes, and his expressive eyes really work to his advantage."

"What kind of advice did you give the actor?"

"I wouldn't say that I gave him any advice, but we did converse quite a bit. Both of us were quite greedy about wanting to get the character right. Besides, the brother was such a strong character in the original. Frankly, I had quite a hard time with the lack of description about the character, but I barely managed to get by."

"What was it like working with Ji Hye Goo? I know that she was already famous and a top-notch actress, but she was an especially great fit for her role in this movie."

At that, Soo Jung nodded in agreement. Ji Hye Goo was a great actress.

"Working with Ji Hye was a breeze, especially when we were filming. We hardly ever had to ask her to do anything because she was always so well prepared. She had already studied the script thoroughly by the time she arrived on set."

Then, Soo Jung went on to tell various anecdotes relating to the actress to the reporter. As the names of few other actors came up, the writer and her director husband took turns answering questions about them. As if he had gotten enough information, the reporter changed the course of the interview.

"The performances of these actors were, simply put, amazing, but the visual presentation of the movie left quite an impression on me. I'm not sure if there are varying shades to darkness, but there was not one boring moment, even if most of the scenes in the movie were in the dark."

"We paid close attention to that aspect, which was inevitable if we were to make the most out of the original. As you know, the book is very colorful. A flock of birds flying up to the sky, tombs where the dead animals are buried, the bright lights bursting out in the end. I wanted to replicate them in the movie as well."

"It must have been quite a challenge."

"It sure was. I spent a great deal of time thinking. Before making any choice, I was always reminded that there were countless other options. There may or may not have been better ways to direct this movie, but the matter is beyond my hands now."

The room sank into silence as the reporter was handed over a cue card slowly. Then, a smile appeared on the reporter's face as the time had finally come to discuss the word that had been coming up throughout the interview.

"Frankly, it's impossible not to ask about this person when discussing 'Trace of a Bird.' I don't expect you guys to make this easier for me, but I gotta ask."

As agreed previously, Sang Young pretended to be perplexed.

"Oh, boy. Is it finally time?"

"That's right. We're finally getting to the question about Yun Woo."

Sang Young smiled as the reporter's eyes sparkled with interest. It being the last official interview, the director had the freedom to be generous that day, and he and Juho had agreed to let out a small surprise for the readers and viewers of the movie.

"How involved was Yun Woo in the production?"

"Unfortunately, that's a question outside the realm of what I can answer. He wasn't involved at all in the making of this movie, and that even includes the title. Even if I were to name the movie, 'Trace of a Rabbit,' he wouldn't have said anything about it, even if it meant me getting beaten to death by fans of the book."

"Not one bit, huh?" the reporter asked, looking surprised.

"M-hm. He granted me complete freedom. Mr. Woo dislikes making conclusions regarding certain subjects. If anything, we had to cling to him for answers and beg desperately for clues."

"So, did he give you any?"

"Not one," Sang Young said, choosing his words carefully. There couldn't be anything said about the author's identity. Then, Soo Jung said, "Because of that, the conversation between Mr. Ju and Yun Woo became an everyday occurrence for them. Mr. Ju pouring out questions, while Mr. Woo wanted him to interpret things however he wanted."

"How did they converse? Did they meet in person or talk over the phone?"

People were curious about even the smallest, seemingly insignificant details.

"We had meals together occasionally, but the conversations mostly happened over the phone, especially when we were filming. Actually, we met in person recently. Doesn't that make you jealous?"

"I'm not the jealous type, but I don't think that would apply here," the reporter said sincerely, and Sang Young smiled proudly. "My understanding is that he's in the process of translating a book as per the request of the infamous Kelley Coin. This is the first time something like this has ever happened."

"Yes, I heard. It's been quite the news."

"There are people who are starting to doubt Yun Woo's real age. Speaking of which, I'm kind of starting to have doubts myself. Is he really a high school student?"

At her question, Sang Young chuckled and answered, "Yun Woo is the best writer among all the students I've met thus far."

It made sense for people to have doubts, especially after meeting the young author in person. When Sang Young conversed with Juho, from time to time, he found himself wondering if the author really was an eighteen-year old. Then, he remembered the author's young face.

"Have you heard anything about Kelley Coin?"

"No, not at all."

"Anything about his recent work-in-progress?"

"He doesn't talk about that either."

At his answer, the reporter's eyes narrowed with doubt.

"Seems like Yun Woo is either really good at keeping secrets, or not all that close to you."

"It makes me sad that you're doubting our friendship. By the way, aren't you here to interview us?"

"Yes, I am. Pardon me, Mr. Ju. It's just that there are so many people who are dying to know about Yun Woo, including myself. Anyway, back to the subject."

Then, the reporter kept on with the interview with an apparent anticipation, and soon, she brought up the question that would mark the highlight of the interview.

"What was Yun Woo's response to the movie reaching ten million viewers?"

The time had come for them to reveal the surprise, and Soo Jung took Yun Woo's letter out of her pocket as agreed previously. The camera focused on her hands, and the reported asked, "What's that?"

"This is a letter from Yun Woo," Soo Jung said as she handed it over to the reporter, who was ecstatic about it.

"Was this written personally by Yun Woo?"

"That's right," Sang Young said proudly as the reporter showed the letter to the camera and opened it, revealing the author's somewhat tidy handwriting.

"Ladies and gentlemen, here is a letter written personally by Yun Woo himself, and as you can see, he seems to have quite a nice handwriting."

Then, wearing an awe-struck look, the reporter brushed her hand down the letter and read it. Being about half a page long, the letter didn't take long to read at all. In short, it was a letter of appreciation to the readers, the audience, and those who had contributed to the creation of the movie.

"If you're a high school student watching this interview right now, pay close attention to your peers' handwriting. That person might be Yun Woo."

"This is going to be another trend, isn't it?"

With that, the interview came to an end after a brief closing statement, and just as the reporter had predicted, the interview clip and Yun Woo's handwriting became the most searched for things on the internet.

---

"What if you get caught?" Bom asked in a whisper, even covering her mouth. Her eyes were fixed on Juho's hands as he was in the middle of writing. Staring at her for a little while, he smiled and said, "No way."

"Don't let your guard down! Do you have any idea how popular that interview was?! It was the interview with the most information about Yun Woo by far!" she said, looking rather serious.

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153 There is no Yun Woo 6

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Juho too had watched that interview, and the internet was in a commotion over the snippets of information that had been disclosed during it. Among them, were opinions about Yun Woo's handwriting. The clues presented by the young, anonymous author had drawn massive enthusiasm out of his fans. From the offshoot volume of 'Language of God' to the meeting with Kelley Coin, the speech at the Dong Kyung Literary Award ceremony and the recent interview, Juho had been leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for his readers, both consciously and subconsciously. Because of that, most of the fans had been focusing on putting together the clue pieces rather than demand the author reveal his face. Then, Juho looked down at his notebook. "They'll probably think that I happen to have a similar handwriting." "But it's way too similar," Bom said, still looking concerned. "It seems like that to you because you already know." "No. They're the same, to the tee. I have a bad feeling about this. Hurry up and cover it before anyone sees it!" "I gotta write this if I wanna turn it in though." Then, Bom raised her hand to cover Juho's notebook, and he barely managed to stop her. She, too, was deeply concerned, and under her watch, Juho wrote as fast as he could and finished his assignment. The next period came, and the class president who had come to collect Juho's notebook struck up a conversation with him all of a sudden. "You have a similar handwriting to Yun Woo's." Having barely talked to him to that point, Juho was not very well acquainted with him. Despite his soft spoken nature giving off a timid impression, the fact that he was trying to start a conversation with Juho was proving him to be otherwise. Feeling Bom's anxiety from his seat, Juho answered light-heartedly, "Maybe it's because I am Yun Woo." "Oh. Right," the class president said with a scoff, and then their short interaction came to an end as he collected Juho's notebook. After that, Juho looked at Bom and said, "See?" As a disappointed look washed over Bom's face, Juho observed her expression for a little while and then picked up the book that he had set aside on his desk. It was the book by Kelley Coin that he was in the middle of translating, and Juho had been reading the book exclusively during his free time as of late. "If Seo Kwang were to see what you were reading, he wouldn't have let it slide without making some sort of comment," Bom said as she saw the book title written in English. Seo Kwang was known to be excitable whenever he saw Juho reading a book written in its original language. "Seo Kwang's been hard at work lately," she added as if she wanted to bring something up, and knowing exactly what she had in mind, Juho answered, "Yep. He wants to be a translator." What Yun Woo had done in becoming a translator was the dream Seo Kwang had been running toward. "What do you think?" "About what?" "About Seo Kwang. The way I see it, he seems kind of anxious." At Juho's words, Bom was reminded of herself. "Should we talk to him?" Juho asked as he thought of Seo Kwang's recent appearance. Since finding out that Yun Woo was translating for Kelley Coin, Seo Kwang had been noticeably absent, reading English texts instead of another book, memorizing English words and perpetually murmuring them on his own. Those might have been signs of anxiety. "I doubt it." Seo Kwang wasn't anxious. If anything, he was fighting desperately against the temptation of giving up, and fighting against his past failures to prevent himself from repeating them. Amid a breakthrough in his life, he was working toward his goal, and there was no need for Juho to go out of his way to help him. "Juho Woo!" All eyes turned toward the shout that came from the back door. It was Seo Kwang, and as he walked into the class without hesitation, everyone lost their interest quickly and went on about their businesses. "Look," Seo Kwang said, and Juho looked at the book in his hand, which was written in English. Upon reading, the language acquisition device in his head decoded what was written on its pages: 'Trace of a Bird.' "I can read this now!" Seo Kwang said with a bright smile, and as if to prove his point, the pages were filled with word definitions and underlined phrases. At the sight, Juho accepted Seo Kwang's words quietly. "How long did it take you?" He asked Seo Kwang how much time it had taken him to finish the book, and Seo Kwang answered proudly, "A month." Depending heavily on the dictionary, he had read the translated version of the book for one whole month, and as Juho realized Seo Kwang was not in need of help. He hadn't given up. When Juho looked at Bom, she was taken aback by Seo Kwang's answer to Juho's question. "For a month straight?!" "Yep," Seo Kwang answered. "I wanted to be someone who's a bit more persistent." He had discovered his dream of translating Yun Woo's book after having given something up, and he had come to realize that the question of what kind of person he wanted to be in the future was overshadowed by his goal of becoming a translator. "After this, I'm sure that I developed enough persistence for translating an entire book!" Seo Kwang said as he laughed energetically. Juho scanned through the book that was filled with traces of his progress. "Well, I can't just sit here and lose," Juho said as he looked at the book he was translating and decided that he'd make it the best translation there was within a month. --- "Ow!" Feeling a dull pain on his back, Juho opened his eyes. The impact had been louder than painful. As he opened his eyes and slowly regained consciousness, only then did he realize that he had been asleep. Sitting up and feeling the stiffness of his neck and the numbness in his arm, he groaned in pain and took a sheet of paper off of his face. "Did you stay up again?" his mother asked as she opened the window in his room. Since he hadn't gone to bed and was waking up just now in the morning, there was no way to argue against that. Then, out of concern for her son's health, she went on to explain the importance of sleep for people, and the positive ways the body responded to a consistent sleep routine. "So, sleep early, mister." "Yes, mom." Then, she went out of the room and began to vacuum the living room. She seemed to be in the middle of cleaning, and unlike usual, it had to be related to the reason why she had awaken her son. Juho barely managed to wake himself up after washing his face, and when he walked out of the bathroom, he saw that all of the windows had been open. "Should I go take out the trash?" "Please." With that, Juho helped his mother with cleaning the house, taking the trash bags gathered in one place, he went outside to separate the recyclables. Looking at the trash after it ended up where it needed to be, Juho asked himself, 'Where would 'Utopia' be for these bottles? What if they're mourning the fact that they were born as plastic bottles as they're facing the reality of it?' Then, he picked up a glass bottle and wondered, 'What about this one?' Despite it being a recyclable glass bottle, it was made of beautiful curves and transparent skin. Unfortunately, that appearance was overshadowed by a greater power or a system, and the glass bottles were reduced to the equivalent to plastic bottles, which polluted the Earth. It was unfair and tragic. The bottle made a dull sound as Juho flicked its surface with his finger. 'It would've been nice to know what these plastic bottles were saying.' Unfortunately, it was only wishful thinking. From then on, Juho wasn't able to return to his desk until he had gone back in and had breakfast. While the room was clean, the desk looked the same as he had left it as his mother tended to avoid cleaning his desk when he was writing. Although it would stay that way until the end of the day, the desk maintained its untidy appearance. As he turned on the computer, the finished translation appeared on the screen. "One month." Since meeting with Kelley Coin, being requested by the author to translate his book, and being given three months by the publishing company for the process, Juho had spent an entire month solely on translating and reading Coin's book, and finally, the journey had come to an end. Juho looked down at the last page of the manuscript, where Bill was dead. Even after his death, the world was still the same, divided into three parts, just as it always had been. As an individual, he had failed to make a difference in the world in any way, and just like that, Bill, the pretentious, ambitious, timid and foolish, had faded away. That was how Coin had decided to end the book, and Juho pondered as he read the sentences he had translated. It was a strange feeling, and none of them felt like he wrote them himself. It was a book written by Coin, and that meant the sentences belonged to him as well. Although Juho was looking at the product of his effort, which came from referring to the author's book hundreds of times and reading through them tens of times, there was not one single trace of himself in those sentences. It was the exact opposite of what he had been doing, and Yun Woo was nowhere to be found in that world. "That's a little depressing," Juho said as he looked at the bright screen. Coin's descriptions were beautiful and fantasy-like, as if they were wrapped in a heart-patterned wrapping paper. 'What could be in it? What's underneath the wrapping?' It was reality, filthy and ugly. Coin's book was like a burn. Once reading it, there was no going back to how things were, and it continued to influence its reader's life as it lingered. Juho put pressure into his hand. He had been reading Coin's book tirelessly while translating and found himself getting impressed by how the author handled sentences and his plot development. There were even times when he caught himself looking to change some of the sentences subconsciously. All in all, it was an invaluable learning experience. Then, Juho made a call on his phone. "Hey, what's up?" a slightly tired voice sounded from the receiver. To which, Juho answered, "I'm finished." "Huh?" "I finished translating." "... Eh?" Then, Juho heard some commotion in the background. "What's today's date?" At the seemingly random question, Juho answered him. "There are still two whole months left until the deadline." "I'm aware." "But it hasn't even been a month!" "I'm aware of that as well." "And you're finished? You finished translating Kelley Coin's book within a month!?" "Yep. All done." After contemplating what to make of the situation, Nam Kyung said, "Send me the manuscript." Then, Juho immediately put himself into action. As he sent the email while staying on the phone with Nam Kyung, Juho heard him give a status report to the editor-in-chief, and after yet another commotion, Nam Kyung returned to his phone. "Yeah. OK. I got it. Great job. I imagined it would've been difficult being your first time," he said, sounding like he was still struggling to accept the situation. He wouldn't have thought in his dreams that he would be saying those words so soon. "Not at all. It was a new experience." "Now that you're off the hook, are you finally going to relax?" At Nam Kyung's excited voice, Juho chuckled and said, "No, I'll be writing." "Again?" Juho was planning to keep on writing, and he needed the means to release the emotions that he had been suppressing. "Yes, again." --- "I'm telling you, that kid's really something," Nam Kyung said as he hung up, clicking his tongue. If he were in Juho's shoes, he wouldn't have even bothered to think about writing, and there were actually quite a few authors who went on to rest for several years after writing a book. While it seemed unrealistic, writing a book was an incredibly demanding task to say the least. "Maybe it's because he's young." 'I mean, even just now, he translated an entire book as if it was nothing.' Then, Nam Kyung opened the manuscript Juho had sent him over the email, and a series of letters filled the screen. Whenever he looked at Juho, he was reminded of how much the young author had in common with a spring that would never dry up. Cold, yet flowing gently, the water always left a trail, and its undilutable color emitted a presence that was unmistakable. When Juho first agreed to take on the translation work, Nam Kyung hadn't been very concerned because he was Juho's editor and was well aware that the author excelled peculiarly in language. However, there was one thing that had bothered him, and it was the fact that Yun Woo was an author. He was a novelist who wrote his own, unique stories, and it was uncertain whether a writer would be able to remove his voice entirely while leaving Coin's writing intact and as he had intended. Even Dong Gil, the leading figure in strict and elaborate writing styles, had undergone a great deal of difficulty in translating. "Well, that's something even translators often struggle with." Nam Kyung read through Yun Woo's translation of Kelley Coin's book, 'Belongings.' Wondering if the young author had recognized that the story belonged to Coin or if he had ever given into invading Coin's creative boundaries, Nam Kyung was filled with unexplainable excitement and anticipation, and the feelings were different from those of receiving Yun Woo's manuscript. "Nam Kyung, I heard the temporary binding's out," Ms. Song saig to Nam Kyung on her way back from from the sales department, but he gave her no answer. "Nam Kyung?" "Nam Kyung's busy at the moment," Mr. Maeng, who sat next to him, answered on his behalf, and Ms. Song asked why. To Which, he answered, "He's reading Mr. Woo's manuscript." "Mr. Woo? Which one? I didn't hear anything about a new book?" At her questions, Mr. Maeng shook his head and said, "It's the translation." "... already?" "Yep. That's why he's reading it so intently." Then, both Mr. Maeng and Ms. Song looked in Nam Kyung's direction. He had a rather peculiar expression on his face and was murmuring something that were yet to be words. "Nam Kyung?" He rose from his seat slowly, asking, "Where's chief?" At his voice that was strangely suppressed, Ms. Song pointed at the conference room. "Why do you ask?" "There is no Yun Woo." "Huh?" "There. Is. No. Yun Woo," Nam Kyung said as his voice grew louder gradually. "There's no trace of him anywhere in that manuscript. Do you realize how incredible this is!?" There was none other than Coin himself in the translation. Despite the manuscript being a translation, it was filled to the brim with the original author. Although it was rewritten in a different language for a different country, after arriving at that distant country, Coin's voice was left entirely untouched. "I don't see it." "Everyone has to know about the greatness that is this manuscript. There's not a minute to lose. Chief!" Leaving his two coworkers behind in confusion, Nam Kyung ran toward the conference room in search of the editor-in-chief. At that, the two wondered, 'What's gotten into him?' "Should I print out a copy?" "Yes, and get me one, too." It wasn't long until the two had caught on to what Nam Kyung was experiencing.

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154 Nothing Lasts Forever 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Juho was at the same beach he had visited several times previously. A small seagull flew over his head, making Juho wonder if it was the offspring of a larger seagull he had seen during his last visit. Unfortunately, the tide was far out in the distance already, and it reminded Juho that he had arrived a tad too late. Then, he walked toward the water. Being at the beach at a later time wasn't necessarily a bad thing, and one of the benefits was that he got to see tiny crabs coming out of their holes, crawling about busily. On top of that, the crabs left trails of lumps of sand, indicating where they had had their meals. Once they finished feeding off of the tiny creatures that lived in the mud, the crabs would litter around their holes with what was left after the meal, and what seemed like excrement on the sand was actually sand that had been purified. Juho was quite envious of the fact that their consumption and disposal of food had a positive impact on the planet, capable of creating something so beautiful from that mere act. For no apparent reason, Juho tried stepping on the lumps of sand. The crabs paid no attention to what he was doing. Then, Juho remembered the conversation with Nam Kyung on the phone a few days after sending him the translated manuscript. As soon as he answered Juho's call, Nam Kyung had said, "This is top notch!" A satisfied chuckle sounded from Juho's receiver for a while. "We had a plenary meeting today, and everyone in the office had a lot of great things to say about your translation, including people from other departments!" "Really?" At that, Nam Kyung said frivolously, "How did you manage to sound like Coin so much in your translation? It made the culture in the book feel very realistic. It's like a bibimbap flavored taco. It's suits my taste perfectly!" A bibimbap flavored taco. The analogy didn't sound all that appetizing, and made Juho second guess whether Nam Kyung really was complimenting his work. "This translation will forever be the example of how Kelley Coin's books should be translated. We even decided on the slogan: 'Looking to get the full of experience of Kelley Coin? Read this translation by Yun Woo!'" "That sounds a tad too fancy." "No, it's just right," Nam Kyung said emphatically, and he finally got to the main point, "So, we decided to publish this book first before all the other books in the collection instead of publishing it last." Because Juho had no preference as to whether the book should be published earlier or later than scheduled, he gave Nam Kyung an affirmative answer. With that, Juho went outside and sat on a rock. Currently, he was in the process of writing the sixth volume of 'Language of God,' and the long-awaited encounter between God and the four companions was just around the corner. Juho thought back on the feedback he had received from Hyun Do Lim on the phone. 'That was refreshing.' His feedback indicated that he had been reading Juho's books, and Juho found himself remembering it repeatedly. Wanting to become an even better writer, he made the trip to the beach yet again to see for himself the beginning and the end. "Hello." As the voice greeted Juho from below, he turned around and saw an old lady with bent back selling boiled clams. "Hello," Juho greeted her back. "Can I interest you in some boiled clams?" she asked as if she didn't remember Juho. "Yes, I'll take some," Juho said, nodding and remembering her face. "I'll give you some extra, young man." "Thank you." Then, after taking the paper cup that was filled with boiled clams, he took a piece and brought it up to his mouth. 'Slurp.' The meat popped out of the shell and into his mouth, filling it with a familiar, fresh, briny flavor. With that, the old lady walked away in search of another customer, and as Juho watched her from behind quietly, he was relieved to see that there were things that changed and also remained unchanged. There was still a clear boundary between the sky, the sand, and the ocean, and the grains of sand were still small. Although he had yet to start writing 'Language of God' during his last visit, he was now on the edge of nearing the end of the series. 'Slurp.' As Juho ate another boiled clam, his phone started ringing. Wondering if Nam Kyung was calling, he checked the phone and realized that the call was coming from Jang Mi. Although Juho intended on enjoying his alone time in peace, the rest of the world was as busy as ever. With the paper cup still in his hand, Juho answered the call. "Hello?" "Mr. Young." It was a calm voice, but it also sounded anxious for some reason. "Is everything OK?" "So… I'm not sure where to begin." Her voice indicated that she was either flustered or filled with urgency. "We received a call today asking about you." There was nothing unusual about that. After all, there were countless people in the world who were curious about Yun Woo. 'What's making her so anxious?' "And the caller turned out to be a middle school student. It turns out that this reader has a younger brother who's suffering from leukemia, and I was told that the he's a fan of your work." "Yun Woo, or Won Yi Young?" "Won Yi Young." It had to be a fan of 'Language of God.' Then, Jang Mi lowered her voice and added, "The sibling wishes to know the ending." "How bad is his sickness?" "I don't have any details, but from what I was told, there isn't a whole lot of time." There was no time. Juho looked at the tide in the distance. "I thought I should let you know." Then, she waited for his answer quietly. There was a reader who was on verge of death who wished to know the ending of the book. Juho thought about his manuscript. While he was starting to get a clearer idea as to how he wanted to wrap up the story of 'Language of God,' he was yet to think of a definite finale. With the offshoot volume being the most recent, Juho was just getting around to writing the next volume after meeting with Kelley Coin and focusing on the translation of his book. Writing a book took a lot of time, and his reader who was suffering from a terminal illness would never be able to get his hands on the last volume of the book. "OK." "Pardon?" "I don't have the manuscript on me, so I'll go visit them and tell them the ending of the book in person. Could you arrange a meeting with them as soon as possible?" Though she was initially caught off guard by Juho's quick decision, she came to her senses quickly and said, "Of course. I'll get on it." As he hung up, Juho rose him his seat immediately and made his way toward the subway station. Because there was no way to predict when the meeting was to take place, he felt the urgency to head back home. A middle school student had called the publishing company, and Jang Mi had answered the phone as usual, saying, "Dong Baek Publishing Company. How can I help you?" To which, the reader said, "My brother is really sick, and I need your help." While Jang Mi was still at a loss after what she had just heard, the reader on the phone said, "My brother is a fan of Won Yi Young, and he loves 'Language of God.' He's really into the characters and the world they live in, and he's been staying hopeful in the meantime that he'll stay alive until he finishes reading the last volume, but yesterday, his condition started getting worse all of a sudden. He's much younger than I am, and I want to do something for him. Please, ask Mr. Young to grant my brother's wish." Sensing the urgency in the voice, Jang Mi asked for and received the reader's contact number. The student was sincerely wanting the best for their brother. "Time's running out," the voice said. Gasping for breath, Juho ran as fast as he could. While translating and writing, he had been putting off exercising, and now, that inactivity had inevitably caught up to him, hindering his ability to run and his lung capacity. 'When I get back, I'm gonna start running again,' Juho thought to himself. Unfortunately, it wasn't until he arrived at the subway station that he started asking himself if taking a taxi would have been a better idea. Coming to a crossroad, Juho was faced with the decision of which path to take in order to get to the destination quicker. 'Is there going to be traffic? Would it be faster to take a taxi?' Nobody would be able to answer those questions or help him to make the better decision. At that moment, his phone rang again, and he answered as he swallowed nervously. "Mr. Young. I am terribly sorry." Juho's heart beat uncontrollably. 'Time's running out.' An unfamiliar voice sounded in his head, and he thought of the image of a tide that was distant from the shore. Although he had arrived at the beach a tad too late, he had still been able to enjoy a view that was different from his usual visits, and it was not a bad view at all. 'What would it be like this time?' "Turns out that reader was lying." 'Time's running out,' the same voice sounded in his head yet again. "Pardon?" "I should have checked first. I am so sorry." "... I'm sorry, pardon?" "That student lied to us. I just talked with the student's guardian on the phone." Only then, was Juho able to hear Jang Mi's voice clearly. Neither flustered or anxious, she sounded entirely different from the last time they had talked on the phone. This time, her voice was filled with guilt and embarrassment. "A lie," Juho reiterated the truth slowly. "Yes. It seems like the student lives with her grandmother, so I gave them a call, but they didn't pick up. They must have not recognized my number. Eventually, I got a hold of them, so I asked, and it turns out that they were both orphans, and the brother had already passed away..." Jang Mi said, slurring her words in the end. What had really lacked in the situation hadn't been the time Juho had left to reach the reader. Instead, it was their parents. Then, the violent storm in Juho's mind suddenly died down, and he felt his lungs fizzling out. He was chuckling. "I'm truly sorry for putting you through all this, Mr. Young." "Oh, no. It's not a problem." Jang Mi's quick response might have shone if the phone call didn't turn out to be a lie. Although what happened was unfortunate, Juho wasn't angry about it. Feeling slightly dazed, he hung up his phone after calming Jang Mi down, who kept apologizing profusely. There was silence, and people were going about their way, looking indifferent toward what had just happened to Juho. Smelling the faint saltiness in the air, he stood still for a little while, and then got on the subway back home. Upon arriving, he washed up and laid himself on the bed as it was time to sleep. 'Strange,' Juho had thought uninterruptedly throughout the entire ride back. Despite having lied, the student had left a contact number. In fact, she had left the actual number for her grandmother, who was also her legal guardian. Essentially, it was a confession. 'Why? Was she desperate to get in trouble or hungry for attention? If so, there had to be another way. Then, why the publishing company? What about Won Yi Young?' A series of question marks floated around in Juho's head. Brother, grandmother, and the mysterious student. In a daze, Juho stared up at the ceiling, and because he couldn't sleep, he sat up on his bed. Instead of forcing himself to sleep, he took the time to think and speculate, and eventually, he picked up a pen and paper to write down whatever came to mind until sunrise. As he filled more pages with his thoughts, his head felt all the lighter. Then, Juho called Jang Mi early in the morning. "Yes, Mr. Young," she answered her phone immediately, and Juho went straight to the point without hesitation. "So, what happened with that student?" "Ah! About that. I was planning on calling you." With that, she updated Juho on the aftermath of the incident with the mysterious student. "The grandmother wanted to visit the publishing company and apologize in person." "And where does the company stand in the matter?" "Well, as long as you're OK, we're looking to let it slide." 'Of course.' A publishing company wouldn't want things to blow out of proportion. Not only was the incident brief, but there was no actual loss of any sorts. On top of that, the author himself took no offense to the matter. Between Yun Woo, who was at the peak of his success, and Won Yi Young, there would be no benefit for a publishing company to cause a ruckus. Although Juho wouldn't have made a big deal normally, there was something that he wanted out of the incident. "I'll accept it." "Pardon?" "The apology. I'll accept it. Would you arrange things?" "... Pardon?" Jang Mi asked in a flustered sounding voice and said, "I would like to express my sincere apology about what happened recently. I should've been more careful and I didn't handle the situation very well. This will never happen again." Misunderstanding Juho's request, she apologized yet again, and Juho answered light-heartedly, "I told you. It's really OK. I just wanted to have a talk with that student. Something's been bothering me." After contemplating the entire night, Juho decided to meet and ask the student in person. "So, please let the grandmother know that she doesn't have to come in person. I wouldn't feel at peace about making an elderly travel a long way. As long as I get to meet the student myself, I'll be content. I wouldn't mind talking over the phone, either." "Uh… Sure. I'm on it." "Thanks a lot." Hanging up, Juho sat up on his bed as it was almost time for him to go to school.

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155 Nothing Lasts Forever 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

Because both parties were students, the meeting between Jang Mi, Juho and the young fan was set for that weekend, at an awkward time, slightly past lunchtime.

Following the path informed by Jang Mi ahead of time, Juho headed for the meeting spot. After walking through an alleyway in a residential area near the publishing district, he arrived at a cafe hidden halfway behind a raised surface. Although it was located on the ground level, the location made it look out of place.

Juho looked around as he stood in front of the cafe. The interior was shrouded in dim lighting, making it difficult to discern if the place was even open. Then, he quietly pushed the door that seemed much heavier than it was open and was greeted by the potent scent of coffee. There were no guests, and the host was dozing off behind the counter.

'This place is very quiet, even on weekends. Perfect,' he thought and greeted the owner as he locked eyes with her.

"Hello."

As the owner gave him a nod in response, Juho walked toward the innermost table in the cafe and took a seat. Because Jang Mi had informed him that she would be coming to the cafe with the mysterious student, all Juho had to do was wait patiently. The dimly lit interior was filled with exotic looking chairs and furniture, and the table was decorated colorfully with what seemed like hand-knitted coasters.

First, Juho ordered a cup of coffee. Since meeting Kelley Coin in person, the brown liquid reminded Juho of the author's face. From what he was told, the eccentric author was furious to hear that the translated copy of 'Belongings' was already in print. First, he suspected that the early completion of the translation had to have come at the cost of its quality, and second, the word was that the translation was of excellent quality, contrary to what he thought would be subpar at best. He had to have been secretly hoping that the young author would find himself in a difficult situation, despairing after realizing the weight of his work.

After all, he was the infamous Kelley Coin. His ill-tempered nature was very much intact. It was unfortunate that he wouldn't be able to read the translation of his own book, but he would still hear from the reviewers in Korea, including their evaluations. Unlike usual, Juho hoped that he and the author would be on the same page in terms of evaluation. Only then, would he be able to rest assured that Coin wouldn't be making a vengeful trip to Korea.

At that moment, his phone vibrated. It was a text from Jang Mi saying that they were near. After writing back to let her know to take her time, Juho drank his coffee unhurriedly.

Soon, a series of footsteps sounded from outside, and as Juho looked toward the entrance, the door opened just as quietly as when he had first opened it. It was almost too quiet, to the point of it being out of place.

'Would've been nice to put up a piece of paper or something, at least,' Juho thought, and then his eyes locked with a girl's.

"Hello," she greeted him in a soft voice. There was a small pimple on her pale face.

"Hello."

As Juho greeted her back, the girl handed something over to Juho in an awkward motion. It was a box of energy drink* from the pharmacy, and he took it without making any comment. Upon taking their seats, Jang Mi and the girl each ordered a cup of tea, and soon, the two cups were placed on the cloth coasters. Sadly, the designs of the coasters didn't quite match the cup.

(Editor's Note: These are not your normal American energy drinks. You can say they are more like vitality drinks, and they usually say that there is some health benefit to them.)

After exchanging brief self-introductions with the girl, who was frozen in place, Juho asked her, "Aren't you suspicious of whether or not I'm real?"

At that, the girl's eyes began to shake, and the ice broke.

"No," she said, without trying to hide her flustered expression.

"What makes you so confident?"

"... The editor is here."

"What if we were on the same side?"

"..."

Then, the girl glanced at Jang Mi, who wore a faint smile on her face without involving herself in the conversation. Finding herself at a loss, the girl clenched her lips tightly.

"So, you trust that I'm real, yet I noticed that you have yet to ask me about the ending of the book. That's why you made the call in the first place, right?" Juho asked.

The entire purpose of her calling Jang Mi had been to deliver the ending of the book to her brother. Then, her shoulders stiffened up, and...

"I apologize,"

… the girl bowed her head and apologized, her hair covering the colorful coaster on the table.

After staring at her quietly, Juho said, "You should give your grandmother a call."

"'Scuse me?"

"Call her and let her know that you apologized, and that you were forgiven. She's probably worried sick."

"..."

"Better sooner than later."

Then, studying the expressions on Juho's and Jang Mi's faces, she rose from her seat and went out of the cafe. The owner was still dozing off behind the bar in a comfortable position, and as Juho stared at her intently, Jang Mi asked, "Like you said, it is kind of strange. I thought she would be just an immature girl who was selling the story of her brother just so she could meet you."

"She doesn't seem all that happy to see me, does she? She doesn't seem all that satisfied either."

Not only had the girl been polite, but her appearance was tidy and presentable. Although one couldn't judge a person solely on their appearance, she didn't seem like a child who would get a kick out of making prank calls.

"It's strange that she left her grandmother's actual phone number too," Jang Mi said. She was just as baffled as Juho, and the mystery grew deeper as she met the girl in person. At that, Juho nodded gently in agreement.

"Well, let's find out."

After the quick phone call, the girl came back into the cafe, and again, the door was as silent as ever.

"I called her," she updated Juho and Jang Mi.

"What did your grandmother say?"

"She said that you were good people and to never do such a thing again."

At that, Juho asked the girl, "Why did you lie?"

As she remained silent, he approached the subject from another angle.

"Up to which point were you lying?"

Yet to understand his intention, the girl answered with a voice that had grown quiter, "They were all… lies."

WIthout trying to corner her, Juho took a sip of his coffee and asked calmly, "You weren't actually at the hospital, were you?"

"No."

"And what you said to be your parents' number was actually your grandmother's."

"Yes."

"What about the time running out?"

"That was a lie."

Juho observed her calmly, and it wasn't hard to read her emotions.

"What about your brother being a fan of my book?"

That time, she gave no answer. Her lips were clenched tightly, and Juho was able to tell that she hadn't lied.

"... How did you know?"

"I talked with your grandmother."

"She hardly talks about him."

"I didn't hear her in person, of course."

Information tended to be connected. Anxious to be sending her young granddaughter on her way alone, the grandmother had insisted on coming along, and in the end, Jang Mi had to take over to convince her after a long conversation.

The girl's brother had already died before she made the call, and it had to have happened in less than a year, probably a few months, at most. The grandmother didn't seem like she was struggling to accept the passing of her grandson either. Only, she sounded unstable.

"Would you mind if we talked about your brother?"

The girl nodded willingly, and there was not a trace of reluctance. On the contrary, she took the initiative to speak.

"My brother wanted desperately to know the ending of 'Language of God,'"

While her lies were successful in deceiving Juho and Jang Mi, they weren't entirely hollow.

"And he was a fan of Yun Woo."

"Not Won Yi Young?"

"At first, no." Then, she added, "He was always reading Yun Woo's books at the hospital, and he would read the same books ten, twenty times over. When the new book came out, we were celebrating together."

Then, Won Yi Young appeared.

"Then, he started growing curious about Won Yi Young. He was being called Yun Woo's rival, after all. Then, my brother read his book, and it wasn't long until he became a fan."

With that, the girl's expression grew darker.

"Won Yi Young was different from Yun Woo."

There was no way she didn't know that the two authors were the same person.

"How?"

"Won Yi Young's books are a lot longer. It takes a long time until it reaches the finale."

Time was running out for her brother.

"Was your brother not fond of that?" Juho asked.

"No, but that's what made things difficult."

Because of the limited time her brother had left in this world, the girl wanted desperately for her brother's wish to be granted.

"Why did you stop all of a sudden?" she asked resentfully.

Since it became known to the world that Yun Woo and Won Yi Young were the same person, the pace at which their books were being published had slowed down significantly. While the girl's brother, who had been on the verge of death waited desperately for his new book, both Yun Woo and Won Yi Young had been distracted with translating, and she grew resentful of them both.

"Good question," Juho said, and the girl looked up at his ambiguous answer. "If I had made a different choice, your brother might have been able to read my new book."

There were many reasons as to why Juho had made the decision to take up the translation gig. While Hyun Do's encouragement had stirred his interest, the meeting with Coin had brought about a sense of challenge. Not only did he want to write better, but he wanted to write more intricately, investing more time into writing better sentences. Although he didn't regret his choice, he couldn't help but think to himself after hearing her lies, "I should've turned down the meeting and the gig. I shouldn't have gone to that coffee shop. What if I hadn't revealed that Yun Woo was Won Yi Young? What if I hadn't acted on Mr. Lim's encouragement? What if I had chosen not to go to the beach that day, and told myself that I didn't want to write?"

Then, their eyes locked, and he saw the deep regret in the girl's eyes.

"I've been thinking nonstop…"

Juho had been thinking wherever he went. At school, at home, during recess and class, and even while writing.

"... but nothing changed."

Nothing had changed, and the day had simply come.

"It was the same for me," the girl answered in a soft voice. "Nothing changed for me either. My brother might have died before his dream came true, but I knew all along that it's much easier to fail than it is to succeed. I knew that he wouldn't be around much longer either."

Then, Juho asked again, "Why did you lie? It wasn't just to get in my way because you didn't like me, was it? You weren't trying to get attention or sell your brother's story just so you could meet me, either."

"Because my brother knew it too."

Her brother had been aware of the same facts.

"He knew that he didn't have enough time left to see his wishes come true. He knew that it was easier to fail than to succeed. He knew that he wasn't going to be around much longer, so he came up with a plan. A plan to find out how the book was going to end before it was too late."

A plan. Juho imagined the two siblings having a conversation:

"I won't be around much longer."

"Probably," the sister says.

"But I have a plan," the brother answers, and he goes on to explain his malicious prank.

Then, she smiled, saying, "My brother is really smart. I carried out the plan, and here you are. Yun Woo, himself."

At that, Juho had an idea of what the girl was about to say next.

"You tried to stop him."

Polite and presentable, the girl had tried to discourage her brother from his plan as he would be trying to use Yun Woo to his personal benefit. Using his own health as bait, he waited for the author to walk into the trap, and his sister couldn't let that happen.

"Yes."

Then, it all came to an end. Leaving his unfulfilled plans behind, her brother had passed away. Juho looked at her. She was alone and the only person who was able to carry out the plan her brother wasn't able to fulfill.

The small pimple on her cheek stood out in Juho's eyes.

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156 Nothing Lasts Forever 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl The disease, which the girl's brother had suffered from, was leukemia. Divided into a number of categories, it tended to come with prefixes. From chronic and acute to lymphocytic, myelogenous, childhood or adulthood, the prefixes were often mind-boggling words, and without anyone knowing, the girl had classified her brother's sickness by a standard that was much easier to understand: survival rate. Unfortunately, being on the lower side of the survival rate, the brother had been the recipient of terrible luck because of a medication that had come out about a decade ago. Often referred to as Gleevec, the medication was known to improve the survival rate of a chronic leukemia patient significantly, eventually turning the disease around. Sadly, this batch of medication, created by a pharmaceutical company in Switzerland, had taken even the hope of recovery away the from the boy and his family. From then on, the sister had been thinking, 'If my brother was born about a decade earlier, he would have been able to live with much more hope than now, living at least another year.' Having immersed herself in pointless thoughts like that since the death of her younger brother, she had seized the opportunity to realize her brother's plan, which had also been his wish. "He suggested that we call the publishing company and tell them that I had a dying brother who was desperate to know the ending of the book. He added that I had to sound as sad as possible so that the person answering the phone would pity us, and that the plan would work if we rushed them." However, the sister had been against the idea. "I couldn't let him do that. I was emphatically against his plan." Of course, the brother had been sad that his sister had not been willing to get on board with him. Although he had thrown a fit for a while, he had spent most of his time sleeping in the end. He had been perpetually tired, preventing him from reading his favorite books from his two favorite authors: Yun Woo and Won Yi Young. Eventually, his body had weakened to the point that it made the most basic of activities in life impossible, such as brushing his teeth or going to the bathroom. "So, I had to read to him instead. He really disliked calling the traitor in 'Language of God' a traitor." She was referring the traitor of the animals, who was also a hero to the humans and who kept them out of harm's way, and her brother was quite fond of that character. "He would always imagine how the book might end. He believed that One would come to meet God, and God would grant him what he wanted," the girl said, looking at Yun Woo sitting in front of her. "The outcome didn't matter to me." "Right." "But that changed when my brother died." "How?" "I had regrets." That was her reason for making that phone call. She had wanted to grant her brother's wish and thought that she'd be freed of her regrets. "What about now?" "I'm regretting still." What had been intended as a counter for her preexisting regret had resulted in bringing about yet another regret. As Juho smiled warmly, her eyes remained fixated on his face. "If I knew that you'd forgive me so easily, I would have called you with my brother when I still had the chance. What are the odds of actually meeting you in person? If only I hadn't been against his plan, my brother would've gotten what he had wanted," she said quietly. "Meeting Won Yi Young in person would have put him in high spirits, and he would have lived for at least another year." Juho took a sip of his coffee, and the bitterness lingered in his mouth. After a moment of hesitation, the girl brought up 'Language of God.' "So, the four companions leave on a quest to find God, each with an intention of their own." "Yes." "And Four's reason being that he wants to know why humans die." "Right." "What do you think is the answer to that?" The four companions with different intentions in mind set out on a journey to meet God, and Four was the one of those four who sought to answer the question: 'Why do people get sick and die?' If death was a punishment, then the newborn shouldn't die. If death was a blessing, it shouldn't be so frightening. In order to find the answer to his question, Four joined with the other companions in their journey. Then, remembering his manuscript, Juho opened his mouth to say, "God lives up to three hundred years." "Huh?" the girl asked as she caught off guard by what he had said. "I'm talking about God. He lives for three hundred years, at most." "Is this about the book?" "Yes." With that, the girl glanced at Jang Mi, who remained unwavering. Juho was disclosing content that was yet to be published. "Can you talk about stuff like that?" "Isn't it a little late for that question? You wanted to know how the book ends." "But that was a lie…" "It's fine," Juho said calmly, and the girl's eyes moved busily as she immersed herself in thought. "What do you mean when you say that God lives up to three hundred years?" "I mean that God dies after living up to three hundred years at most." "... Then, that wouldn't make God, God." "That depends on how you look at it." The god who the four companions were about to meet had a lifespan of three hundred years. Although having a lifespan as a god would invalidate His deity status, humans still referred to Him as God. While the girl was still perplexed by Juho's justification of God, Juho added, "Frankly, it doesn't matter if He's really God or not." "It doesn't?" "No." "Isn't that THE most important thing?" At that, Juho shook his head. "What's THE most important is that the four set out on a journey together, and that I successfully wrote the story in one piece." With that, the girl's forehead furrowed. "But, what about the ending?" The one her brother had desperately wanted to know. "In the end, a novel is about people, and 'Language of God' is no different." Novels were about portraying a person's life in writing. "What do you think it's at the end of life?" "Death," she said quietly, yet emphatically. "And why is that?" "Death is the most clear-cut ending I've ever experienced." "That's a delusion." "'Scuse me?" "You've never experienced it yourself." She couldn't give him an answer. To be precise, what she had experienced had been the death of another person, and nothing was more mysterious than the boundary of death. "The things that we're certain to be true often turn out to be misinformation, and that's why there are books that end anticlimactically and get on its readers bad side. After all, the end most people experience is not all that different. Well, there are times when an author simply needs to work on his craft." Juho didn't believe that to be a bad thing. "Because of that, we live on knowing that we'll die one day." People often forgot about the approaching end, and they didn't bother to remind themselves of it. Perhaps death wasn't as important as most people understood it to be. "... Is that how 'Language of God' ends?" There was a faint trace of anger in her voice, as if she was still in disbelief. "Beats me." "... What?" "I haven't written it yet. Earlier, you said that your brother would've gotten what he had wanted if you had been able make that call while he was still alive, right? I hate to say, but you're wrong," Juho said calmly. "I wouldn't have been able to tell him what he had wanted." "But…" "In other words, it would change nothing." As he locked eyes with the girl, her eyes wavered with a subtle sense of relief. "That can't be true," the girl said emphatically as she tried to hide that relief. She was confused. Unlike her normal self, she had made a prank call to the publishing company and obsessed over any trace of her brother. At the same time, she couldn't ignore her brother's death. Her ending, too, was just as ambiguous as anyone's in the cafe. "You don't think it's true." 'What do I say to her when she's so confused? Should I just ignore her, or force her to understand? Should I be comforting her?' Juho thought, but he couldn't reach an answer, so he decided to bring up what he did best. "Then, you write it." At that, her eyes shook anxiously. Instead of communicating to her that he wasn't angry, he added, "You just want to be free from your regret, and are willing to do whatever it takes, right? Even if it means calling Yun Woo." The guilt of not granting her brother's wish had been keeping the girl captive, and she was doing everything she could to free herself from it. She was still alive and still had a future to look forward to. She was wise and didn't indulge in sadness, or give into wailing uncontrollably. "This is the answer I can give you. Try writing." As a novelist, it was the best way to help her. "There's no such thing as a limit in writing, and you can travel through time and space, however and whenever you wish. It'd be possible to meet with your brother, even." "... What am I supposed to do when I meet him then?" "Like I said, you can do anything. You can even tell him about what happened today." "But that'd be fake." "Sure, depending on how you look at it." The girl stared blankly at Juho as he gave her a series of ambiguous answers. "It'd be better than making a prank call, wouldn't it?" "..." Personally, Juho thought it would be a much safer means to lie. "Well, the choice is yours." Until the end, the girl gave no answer or try to debate whether or not it would be real. Instead, she pondered desperately, 'What would be my best choice? Which choice would keep me alive?' Pale skin and long hair. A pimple on her cheek. As she fought her own battle, Juho took a notepad out and wrote a set of numbers. "Would you like this?" "What is it?" "My number." In a battlefield, there was always an ally. Even turning one's head slightly would be enough to make them realize that there were others who were fighting alongside you, willing to help when asked. All it took was to ask for help. "What if I spread it around?" "My phone will probably ring a few more times." At that, the girl stared intently at Juho's face. A peaceful face like that was hard to come by when living in a hospital because everyone was being chased by time, death, end, and pain. She knew the exact look on the face of a person who had accepted death. Her brother had looked peaceful, almost to the point of looking bored. Only those around him had lived that moment in anxiety as they were chased by time. Ironically, the brother, too, had worn the exact same look when he had been slightly further away from his last moment. "You remind me a little bit of my brother." "Is that right?" "Yes. You look like you don't fear death." Juho chuckled without saying anything, and the conversation came to an end. Then, as they stepped out of the cafe to go their separate ways, the girl bowed to Juho in order to express her gratitude. "It's fine," Jang Mi and Juho said. Left by themselves after sending the girl away in a taxi, Jang Mi told Juho that she needed to head back to her office. Then, Juho looked in the direction the taxi had left in. "I think I'll be able to finish my manuscript soon." "Well, that's a good news! What's the progress on it?" Juho thought of the manuscript that was yet to be completed. "I'll write as soon as I get back home." At that, Jang Mi asked, "Is this about God living three hundred years?" "No." God and His existence was not at the center of the manuscript he had been working on. Juho thought of the beach he had recently visited. Along with the grains of sand, there had been a tide in the distance. "Nothing lasts forever." That was the message he wanted to embody in his story and was in the process of writing. The four set out on a journey to meet God. They were neither close or understanding toward each other and they weren't exactly fond of each other either. The only thing that kept them together was the fact that they shared the objective of meeting God. As they came across countless people and languages along the way, they saw and experienced all sorts of things that changed them in the end. Then, God finally made an appearance in order to declare the end of their journey. Jang Mi thought of the girl she had just met. Although she had been able to talk about her loss calmly, she was still at a loss. She still seemed sad. Then, Jang Mi chuckled as she remembered what the young author had said: "Nothing lasts forever." "I'll be waiting," she said, believing that the girl would be victorious in her battle. After all, nothing lasted forever.

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157 Nothing Lasts Forever 4

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl After getting off the bus, Juho made his way back home. Then, seduced by the mouth-watering smell of freshly-baked bread while walking past a bakery, he went into the shop and bought himself a sandwich. One of the things Juho had learned from his experience of translating was to not rush. While waiting for his body to finish digesting, he was able to respond calmly to the emotions that were running amok within him. He no longer had to worry about losing the thoughts that occurred to him, and he reminded himself all the more that he needed to write with a rational mindset. After arriving home, he took a shower and changed into comfortable clothes. Then, after enjoying his sandwich with a glass of milk, he went into his room and sat in front of his computer, where the manuscript was being displayed on the monitor. Sitting there, Juho stared at it intently. As he was reaching a point in the novel nearing the end, he felt his hand itching with anticipation. Death and a finale had a lot in common, especially in the sense that it was possible to imagine what was beyond it. Then, he slowly reached for his notebook, in which he had written down the overall flow of 'Language of God,' and opened it to the last page. For now, he wanted to work on the finale of the book. With that, he thought back on what had happened earlier that day. A reader had died before he had had a chance to read the end of his favorite novel, and Juho was responsible for writing that book. Although he did have a passing thought about his book being part of a lingering attachment of someone on the verge of death, he couldn't help but think that it would have been better if he had met the young reader in person. Then, he thought of the girl who had carried out her brother's plan on his behalf. The bowing hair covering her face, her pale skin, and the small pimple. Although he tried to imagine what her brother might have looked like based on his memory of her appearance, it proved to be more difficult than he had anticipated. Juho wrote out Four's question for God: 'Why do people die?' Then, closing his eyes slowly, he found himself at the destination the four companions would reach as they decoded the mythology and encountered numerous people. It was an enormous cave, where the sky was covered by a rough surface, and from afar, it resembled a sand castle. That was where God lived. The ceiling was of a height that Juho was simply not tall enough to reach, even if he were to throw a rock up at it. Much like a person's body, which had a number of holes in pairs, there were two holes in the ceiling that looked like a pair of eyes, and beams of light poured down through them. The sight alone seemed like it would be enough to leave the four companions in awe, despite them having experienced countless countries and their views. Juho felt the wet sand under his feet every time he took a step, and there were four large, seven medium, and five smaller rocks scattered throughout the cave. Then, he climbed up to the highest surface, which reached closest to the ceiling, and looked up at the sky through the holes. The moon was shining through them, giving a striking resemblance to human eyes or, perhaps, God's eyes. "Man! This does seem like a place where God would live!" a voice exclaimed, and a series of footsteps echoed throughout the cave. Then, as they got closer to Juho, the cave sank into silence as Juho came into the view of the four companions. As he turned around, he was greeted by four figures standing before his eyes, furrowing their brows. Because Juho was surrounded by light, they couldn't see him. "God?" a familiar voice asked. "One," Juho answered gently. "So, you were God this entire time, huh?" One said, surprised. Juho gave no answer as the four stared at him absent-mindedly. "He really was here." Misunderstanding Juho for God, the four shook in disbelief for a little while, but soon, they each remembered their own purposes for being there and took turns to list them one by one. Two spoke up first, "I'm an artist, the best artisan potter this world has to offer. I'd like for you to evaluate my work." As Juho gave no answer, Three chimed in, "I killed a person, and as a punishment, I was in jail for one year. Only one year." Then, Three piped up, his forehead furrowed, "I just can't wrap my head around it." At those words, Juho remembered the girl he had met recently. As Juho remained silent, Four went on to ask, "Why do people die?" The question was similar, and Juho remembered answering it at some point. Meanwhile, One stood silently, biting his lip. Juho slowly opened his mouth and said, "I don't know." Silence. "... What?" "I don't know either." As the four stood flustered by the unexpected answer, Juho laughed internally. "Are there things even God doesn't know?" One asked, sounding dumbfounded and disappointed. He was struggling to grasp the situation. "I'm sure there are. God is a living being too, after all, and this is where He lives." "What are you talking about? Who are you?" "God lives up to three hundred years." "What?" "What I'm saying is, God dies too. You know exactly what I'm talking about. Nothing lasts forever." "What kind of nonsense…" "Well, I'm not God, so I wouldn't know." The four swallowed nervously as their awe faded away, and they were left with wariness. They were starting to show the proper responses. "Show yourself." "Don't wanna." Although One scowled as if he was about to charge at Juho at any minute, he stayed still in his place. If he had been anything like himself when they had first met, One wouldn't have hesitated to act on his anger and grab Juho by the collar. "You've changed too," Juho said. Thankfully, he had grown mature. "Do you know me?" One asked. "It's odd, isn't it?" God has to have a language that He speaks in. Yet, we're communicating without any trouble right now. The people you've met along the way each spoke their own languages." "But God is a deity, so of course…" "Hate to break it to you, but God doesn't speak any other language aside from His own." "... What the hell is God then?" Juho observed the expressions that appeared on the four companions' faces. They were at a loss as soon as they were faced with the truth that the God they had been seeking was nothing like how they had hoped Him to be. Not only were they flustered, but also wary, and doubtful. However, they didn't give into despair. "When you meet the real God, ask Him. Or, you can just go talk to Bird." "Bird? He knows? Wait, what's he got anything to do with any of this!?" "Because he's a god too." One's eyes shook in disbelief, and he began to grow furious at Juho's nonsensical answers. His eyes were starting to look like his old self at the beach. "Do you know anything about his past?" At that, One kept quiet. "Do you know where he's from, and what kind of life he has been leading?" "No." "God was next to you all along." Then, One's face distorted in anger. "Ironic, isn't it?" Although God had been standing right beside him, he had been entirely unaware and, instead, had set out on a long journey. In order to meet God, he had left God behind. "Are you saying that what I've been doing was all in vain? "In terms of results? Yes. Not only did you fail to find the answer you were looking for, but you were oblivious to the fact that what you were looking for had been living with you, under the same roof, all along." At that, One roared angrily at Juho. As the protagonist opened his mouth to argue with him, Juho took a step back. The four were no longer scowling. "You hated people because they're dishonest, arrogant, and selfish. They would do anything for power and wealth. Murder, rape, war. They commit countless sins, yet they discriminate and scrutinize each other." Then, he looked at One. Although he had changed significantly, his old self was still left intact within him. "You wanted to be away from them, so you came here to meet God." That had been his reason for setting out on the journey in search for God. Although he had finally arrived at the destination after a long trip, he hesitated to share his wish. After all, he was a changed man. Therefore, the fact that all of his efforts had been in vain was simply too much to handle. Having caught on to Juho, One bit down his lip. "Then who do we talk to for answers?" "Don't know," Juho said with a smile, and raised his hand to point at One. "But I'm sure you'll find your answer at some point. After all, nothing lasts forever." Then, the cave began to quake, and debris began to fall from the ceiling. When Juho looked up, he saw what had been one a pair of holes stretch into one big hole, no longer resembling a human's or God's eyes. "Well, I'm going now." "Wait." One ran toward Juho in order to grab him, but was prevented from doing so by the falling debris. Although he might have been angry and dissatisfied, he still had a home to go back to, and despite his wish never coming true, he would be able to carry on with his life. Because Juho had confirmed those things with his own eyes, there was no unfinished business left for him. "Take care." "You're that punk at the beach, aren't you!?" Amid the falling debris, their eyes locked. "How'd you know?" "I learned those characters then. You're the only one who uses them." "No. The lady at the beach uses them too. So does Bird." 'Language of God' had its base in Hangul. Then, One lost balance as the place shook. As he regained his balance, Juho gave him some advice, "Remember that. It'll help when you're talking with God." With that, the wall crumbled away, and the ocean in the distance became visible. For One, the ocean was a means to cross over to somewhere bigger, and for that reason, Juho had let him go. Lastly, Juho asked, "Did you enjoy your trip?" Debris fell between Juho and One yet again, and amid their view of each other growing narrower, the protagonist smiled and said, "So-so." Then, Juho opened his eyes. While the monitor beamed out light, it wasn't nearly as bright as the light that had beamed into the cave through the two holes in the ceiling. The monitor was still occupied by the unfinished manuscript. With that, Juho took the glass that was once filled with milk and took it out to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. There was a faint taste of milk in the water. After returning to his room, he checked his phone for the time. Five minutes had passed since he had left his room, and there was a text message waiting for him. "I don't recognize the number." With that, Juho checked the message. In it, was the address for an internet novel website, where people got to upload their novels freely. Staring briefly at the address, Juho placed his hands on the keyboard and logged into the website to search for the girl's name. Then, a novel popped up. Barely in its first chapter, it was a brand new novel that was yet to reach even ten readers or favorites. There was a brief introduction of the novel that read: 'The story of an immortal novelist and a girl suffering from leukemia.' With that, Juho went on to read through the chapter. While it was awkwardly written, the novel was honest and carried a lasting emotion. "I'm curious about the next chapter." Then, Juho took the initiative to write the first comment. "Thank you for the chapters." --- "Chief." Nam Kyung looked around the office where editor-in-chief had been staying well after his shifts along with other editors. They were all working busily. "Yeah?" "I uploaded the final revision. I checked for misprints thoroughly." With that, the editor-in-chief accessed the folder that was shared office-wide and opened a file. It was a manuscript by a rookie translator. After stretching briefly, the editor-in-chief picked up a book from the desk, which was also the work of a rookie translator, Yun Woo. "Marvelous." The editor-in-chief murmured, and Nam Kyung immediately understood where he was coming from. Nam Kyung had been ecstatic when he had read the manuscript himself, and the book being published before any other books within the Kelley Coin collection was proof that he wasn't the only person who had gotten excited by it. "Even Kelley Coin's books are on the rise, right?" "As we expected." It was a collaboration between Kelley Coin and Yun Woo, and it was a welcoming news for those with even the most remote interest in literature. Then, the editor-in-chief asked Nam Kyung with a complacent smile, "I heard about the new volume of 'Language of God.' You don't think the readers will fight over their two favorite authors, do you?" "He is on the rise after all, as well as a prolific writer. Yun Woo, Won Yi Young. There's no reason to fight over one or the other." Yun Woo wasn't just a prolific writer. When an author published multiple books within a short time, their attention tended to focus only on a few of them at most. However, in Yun Woo's case, every single one of his books was receiving praise from all across the world and selling at an incredible rate. By that point, people had conceived the idea that any book would sell as long as it bore the name Yun Woo. "A mid-length, a full-length, and now, a translation. Then, there's Won Yi Young." "Apparently, he's known to be quite a writer at his school too." "At his school?" "Yes. I was told that he's part of the Literature Club." "Yun Woo? In a Literature Club?" "He is anonymous after all. He's just an ordinary high school student there." "My, my. That's one interesting way to live!" With that, the editor-in-chief gave Nam Kyung a subtle look, and catching on immediately, Nam Kyung shook his head. "He's not planning on revealing himself." "Bummer." The editor-in-chief clicked his tongue as he stared into the screen filled with praises toward Yun Woo's translation that were being updated in real time.

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158 To Doubt, or To Look Forward to It 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Mr. Lee," the screenwriter called for Pyung Jin, the book critic. Staring intently at the book resting on top of his thigh for a little while, he looked up and answered, "Yes?" "Here's your script." "Right, thanks." They were at the waiting room for the show "The Great Book Club," and Pyung Jin had been waiting for the filming to start. Though usually he wouldn't have minded conversing a little longer, he was somewhat in a hurry and he secretly wanted the writer to leave him be. "What you reading there?" Unfortunately, the writer didn't seem to be aware of Pyung Jin's wish to be left alone. At that, Pyung Jin put on a forceful smile and answered, "Kelley Coin." "Oh! I read his books a lot too! Which one are you reading?" "'Belongings.'" At Pyung Jin's answer, the expression on the writer's face changed. He had to know who had translated the book. "Yun Woo!" "That's right." Like a lot of other people, the writer was also a Yun Woo fan. By that point, it was more difficult to find people who didn't read his books, and the author's record spoke for itself as he managed to convince those who viewed him with doubt and preconceived notions by publishing a book under yet another alias, Won Yi Young. The author had proved to his readers that he was not being overestimated, and there had been no other authors as mysterious and as aggressive thus far. He was truly one of a kind, and people were bound to be drawn to uniqueness. "I didn't get to go to the bookstore because I was caught up with work, so I bought it from an online bookstore. I should be getting it by tonight." "That's a bummer." "Right? I was contemplating whether I should go to the bookstore during lunch or not, but man, has it been a busy day!" The writer kept on for quite a while, and Pyung Jin didn't have the skill to cut the conversation short politely, so he had no choice but to listen to him. He was a coworker who was and would be working with the critic, and a sour relationship was bound to have a negative impact at work. 'All right, why don't we stop right there? If you don't mind, I'd like to go back to reading this book translated by Yun Woo. As far as I can tell from the little time I had to read it, this is really something, and what I mean is that this would be the most Coin-like translation among other translated versions of his books. Now, I beg you to go bother someone else. I'd like to be left alone,' Pyung Jin imagined himself telling the writer those words. "That restaurant has really good pho. You should go try it one of these days, Mr. Lee." "Yes, of course." Despite wondering when the subject had changed, Pyung Jin answered as he loosened his purple tie to unwind from the anxiety prior to filming. At that moment, yet another person came into the room. "Oh, hello." Being one of the hosts of the show, the lady greeted the two people calmly, unlike her usual attitude behind the camera. As she looked around the waiting room and saw the look on Pyung Jin's face, she grasped the situation immediately. "Were you having a word with Mr. Lee?" "Yes. We were talking about what to get for lunch." "Oh, I brought my lunch today." "So, I happen to find this really good pho place. Would you like to come along sometime in the near future?" "I'd love to." After conversing with the host for a little while, the writer left the room, and Pyung Jin cheered internally as he let out a quiet sigh and redirected his attention to his book. Pyung Jin tended to be rather sensitive to translations. While his job did contribute to that, he had seen too many books that were ruined by poor translations. The mistranslations that he saw from time to time were especially atrocious to his eyes. Because of the sensitive nature of writing, a single poorly translated sentence was more than enough to damage the overall quality of a book. One sentence led to another, like a chain reaction. Mistranslations were like harmful insects that gnawed away at strings that were connected precariously. They rendered the book lifeless when it should be full of life, and the readers got to experience that first hand. It was less than flattering. For those reasons, Pyung Jin made a habit out of checking the name of the translator and publishing company when buying a translated copy of a book, which was also why he wasn't all that happy to find out that the young genius author was getting his hands on translating. Yun Woo was an author, and translations were not an easy task by any means. It required training, and even the most seasoned of translators was bound to make mistakes from time to time. Because of that, there was no way to know how things would turn out for a young author like Yun Woo, who carried a bigger presence than just about anyone. It was a mystery whether such an author would be able to stay out of the way of Coin's voice in his sentences. As far as Pyung Jin knew, the translation had been requested to Yun Woo by Kelley Coin himself. It was unclear as to what the eccentric author had had in mind, but the critic was certain that the gig would be the bane of the young author's existence. While the readers were going wild over the collaboration, Pyung Jin was disappointed all the more as he assumed that the joint effort between the two authors would result in a bitter end. "What...!?" The critic exclaimed as he barely managed to suppress the excitement that was welling from within. He took pride in his love of literature and he cherished books as much as he loved them. In order to better understand the subject of his love, he studied them as much as possible, and he had been making regular appearances on TV to spread that same love to others. Pyung Jin read fanatically. Having already read the original, he was taken aback by how similar of a reading experience the translation was offering. It was fascinating, and translations of such quality were a rarity. Yun Woo had a talent in surprising people. "Mr. Lee, we're about to start filming." At that, the critic found himself unwilling to leave the room as he wanted to keep on reading. He wanted nothing else besides indulging in the collaboration of the two world-renowned authors. "Mr. Lee?" "I'm coming." Unfortunately, he had no choice, He was a responsible adult who was part of a society. He had to make money while protecting his credit and he couldn't let his desires get the best of his work-life. At the same time, he wanted to keep those desires as close to him as possible. "There seems to be a lot of mentions of Yun Woo today," the critic said to the screenwriter, who seemed like he had just finished talking about the Vietnamese restaurant. "Well, that's always a plus! Thanks to our viewers' interest in Yun Woo, our show's been growing in popularity." "Of course." With his eyes sparkling, Pyung Jin went into filming. --- When people heard that Yun Woo was translating a book, most of them often responded in two ways: With doubt, or they looked forward to it. "I wanted to see you crying like a baby after failing miserably," Coin said as he clicked his tongue. The fifth book of the collection was published, and Juho held his phone on one hand, while holding a book from the publishing company with a design unique to the 'Kelley Coin Collection' in the other. ''Belongings,' written by Kelley Coin. Translated by Yun Woo.' "Does that mean you're satisfied with the result?" At that, Coin snickered and said, "Yes. Too much so. People around me talk about nothing but Yun Woo, and I'm getting sick of it." Then, a slurp came from Juho's receiver. Coin had to be drinking his coffee. "The critics and translators over in Korea had such good reviews that I think it rubbed off on the people on this side of the world. Just like how your fame is next to none in your country, you're slowly getting known in the US as well." "Whoever told you about my fame being next to none?" "I've been getting interview requests from Korea nonstop. Those people couldn't stop talking trash about me when I wasn't writing as much." There was no trace of anger in his voice. Rather, he sounded like he was explaining what he saw. "I'm certain that they want to hear a thing or two about you from me, dying to know what's underneath that mask of yours." As much as the meeting between the two authors had been sensational, both authors refrained from sharing about it too much. Although they never actually agreed to do so, it was a natural occurrence. "Translation is an odd thing. The more you erase traces of you, the more attention you get." "Did you know what translation was about beforehand?" "No, I had some help." Then, Coin clicked his tongue once again. By that point, it became obvious that Coin had intentionally kept crucial information from the young translator. The process of translation often involved dealing with urges to make changes or improvements to the preexisting sentences, as well as the fact that the author's intent had to remain intact. "Thank to you, I was able to read the book I translated from cover to cover." Juho had read the book as soon as he received it from the publishing company. Normally, he wouldn't have gotten past the first page. Yet, he was able to keep reading as he checked his translation word by word. Just like that, although having read it tens of times for reference while translating, he had read the entire book at once. It was a book written by Coin, and it belonged solely to Coin. Juho was successful in respecting the author's creative boundaries, and there was no trace of Yun Woo anywhere in the translation. "What are you talking about?" Coin asked. "I mean, I'm happy about my translation," Juho said with a smile. --- "Yun Woo, the first translator to be personally requested by Kelley Coin, exceeds all expectations." "A closer look at the recent, critically acclaimed translation by Yun Woo." "The sixth volume of 'Language of God' published, leaving readers anticipating for the grand finale." "Yun Woo vs. Won Yi Young. The winner?" "Won Yi Young's recent success as a translator proves the author's language skills." "The rise of a new prolific writer. Closer look at Yun Woo as an author." "The leading figure in prolific writing, Kelley Coin. Who are the top prolific writers?" "Riding the wave of the Yun Woo fever, "The Great Book Club" prepares for a 'Yun Woo Special.'" "A sneak peek at the next week's "The Great Book Club: Yun Woo Special" and the special guests." --- "'The Great book club?'" Juho asked as he picked up a piece of meat that was burning on his side of the grill. He was meeting with Sang Young for a meal for the first time in a long time. Because Sang Young was stuffing his mouth with food, Juho had to wait until he was done chewing. "Yeah. I heard Myung Joo is gonna be there." Sang Young said. Myung Joo Mu was the actor who rose to fame after playing the role of Yun's brother in the movie 'Trace of a Bird.' "You mean the 'Yun Woo Special?'" "Precisely." Like they had hinted in the past, the show was actually doing a special episode on Yun Woo, and the fans anticipated it anxiously as the TV showed the preview repeatedly and articles poured out through other media. "Did they contact you at all?" "The publishing company turned it down for me." The publishing company didn't really have a reason to be against the author making an appearance on the show as it would be an effective means of advertisement. It was a common occurrence for books to sell at an increasing rate after being mentioned at the show. Then, Sang Young said, "You won't have to worry about Myung Joo spilling the beans about you. He doesn't really wanna be there either. As you know, the show's been doing well as of late, and it even won an award recently. The station seems to be supporting them quite a bit too." Although Juho knew hardly anything about the field, he did know that nobody was exempt from having to do the things that they didn't want to, and he didn't pay all that much attention. "I'm not worried as long as we keep things at the level of your past interview." "He might not seem like it, but Myung Joo is the type to worry a lot." Juho had met Myung Joo only once, an there wasn't a lot the actor could say about the author. If at all, he would have to refrain from mentioning his real name and description of his appearance. Myung Joo was sincere to a fault. "Well, it would always be a plus for me the more he's careful with his words." "Right. It's next week, so don't miss it," the director said as if he was advertising his own movie, and Juho gave him an affirmative answer as he brought up a piece of grilled meat to his mouth. Then, Sang Young asked as he wrapped his meat in fresh, leafy-green vegetables, "So, what happened with Coin, anyway?" "What do you mean?" "Oh, c'mon now. I don't know all that much about the publishing industry, but the whole world knows about his unpleasant personality. I'm just curious about how he interacted with an innocent kid like you." Sang Young said that with an expression filled with interest, and Juho answered while chewing, "We just talked about livelihood." From then on, Juho had to endure through Sang Young's seemingly endless chain of questions.

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159 To Doubt, or To Look Forward to It 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl According to what Juho found out, The Great Book Club: Yun Woo Special had been planned in celebration of Yun Woo's success as a translator and for 'Language of God' approaching its glorious end. When Juho checked the bestsellers' rankings, 'Language of God' was at the top, followed by 'Belongings' in second place. Even after the news got out that Yun Woo and Won Yi Young were the same person, the competition between the two authors remained a popular subject, and because of its nature, it was easy to provoke readers. The media responded to changes in the bestsellers' rankings with exaggeration, pouring out articles like 'Yun Woo's Victory' or 'Won Yi Young Stands Victorious,' and Juho found himself having a strange emotional experience when looking at them. Then, the preview of the Yun Woo Special came on TV, and Juho saw the audience going wild as Myung Joo Mu stepped into the set as a special guest along with the hosts of the show, each holding a book by Yun Woo and Won Yi Young in their hands. They had to be planning to mention Kelley Coin at some point, and the brief overview of the show was more than enough to get viewers excited. Juho, too, was curious as to what kind of subjects would be coming up on the show. As he checked for the showtime, his phone began to ring. It was a call from Seo Kwang. "Yeah?" "I'm coming over next week," Seo Kwang declared. Juho was standing around his room, which was filled with piles of manuscripts. "I don't mind, but did you come across a good book recently? What's the occasion?" "There are always good books, my friend. Anyway, do you get where I'm going with this? Me? Coming over? Next week?" Next week. There was something that crossed Juho's mind. "You mean the Yun Woo Special?" "Correct!" "Why don't you watch it at your place?" "Why stay home and waste the opportunity to watch the Yun Woo Special with Yun Woo?" Seo Kwang said shamelessly. "As you wish." Just like that, Juho made plans to watch the special episode of The Great Book Club with his friend, Seo Kwang. Then, time passed, and the day they had agreed to watch the Yun Woo Special together came around, and Seo Kwang arrived promptly at Juho's house. "Mind if I look around your room?" "There's nothing worth seeing in there." "The fact that that's where Yun Woo writes makes it more than worth seeing," Seo Kwang said as he opened the door to Juho's room while the commercials came on TV. "Man, this room is always filled to the brim with writing," Seo Kwang murmured, looking at the papers and boxes that filled the room, stacked precariously on top of each other. "What if you get crushed to death by these massive piles of paper?" "It's possible." Secretly, Juho thought to himself that being crushed to death by piles of his own works wouldn't be such a bad way to go. Truth be told, it was a death much more dignifying for an author than drowning in a river. "Where's this language from?" "India." "Aren't there a number of them?" "Yes, there are, but what you're looking at is their official language, Hindi." "I'm telling you: one would think that you're a linguist if they saw your room." Looking around the room for a little while, Seo Kwang found yet another thing that caught his interest. It was the resource on Medieval and Old English given to Juho by James, and even the notes were written in English. Seeing those, Seo Kwang went through them for a brief moment, and Juho observed him quietly. "You can read them for the most part, right?" "I still need a dictionary, but more or less." "That's incredible! It's only been a year." "Right?" Seo Kwang answered proudly. "My reading habit has really paid off. I'm telling you, books are such marvelous things." Then, he went on to list the benefits of reading for a little while and subtly changed the subject to ask, "How was translating?" "It was hard, not to mention how exhausting it was. There were a lot of things to be mindful of, so I struggled quite a bit. I didn't have the freedom to do whatever I wanted." "Right," Seo Kwang said while looking at Juho. "It was still a really good learning experience. It was like getting a second hand experience on a different writing style." At that, Seo Kwang nodded and said, "I read the translation." "How was it?" Juho asked light-heartedly. "It seemed like it wasn't your first time," Seo Kwang answered, without taking his eyes off of the resource on Medieval and Old English. "That's good to hear." "You know what though?" "What?" "I contributed to your translation skill." "Eh?" Then, Seo Kwang looked up, wearing an overly confident expression. "So, I started taking a class on translation recently." "And?" "And I noticed that people are always debating on how to better translate a sentence. Students there have to discuss how to translate something or debate on a randomly chosen subject. Of course, there are debates on books, too." "A-ha!" Juho caught on to what his friend was trying to say immediately. Seo Kwang had the habit of wanting to talk about a book that had caught his interest, and as the conversation continued, the differences in opinions tended to become more apparent. It was only natural since there was no objective answer. As opinions conflicted, the two parties provided evidence to support their arguments while disagreeing and proposing questions, and that was just what Seo Kwang was doing in his translation class. "Coming to think of it, you talk about books on a daily basis. Like you'd die if you didn't." "True, but know this: you were doing something that would improve your translation skill without even knowing, and you can say that I played a part in that astounding achievement of yours. You're welcome." Though Juho didn't feel all that grateful toward Seo Kwang, he was aware that having a friend to converse with was a blessing, and in Seo Kwang's own words, they might even have helped each other in some ways. "You're right. Thanks." "That's not a lip service I'm hearing, is it?" Then, Seo Kwang got to the main point. "What do you want?" Juho asked. To which, his friend answered, "This," as he pulled up the resource on Medieval and Old English in his hands. 'That's it? All he had to do was ask,' Juho thought. "All right. It's all yours." "Sweet!" Seo Kwang rejoiced, and while he was at it, Juho gave him a series of books that he had been collecting in order to learn other languages. "There's a book on languages like Spanish and French here, as well as Chinese, Japanese and Vietnamese. It's probably best that you interact with languages as much as possible, so take them if you don't mind. This, here, is on Egyptian, and it's quite interesting. This one's on how written languages came about, and this is a study on the written languages of eastern countries as a whole. And this one here…" "OK! OK! My gosh, how many books do you think I can carry? Besides, what about you? What are you gonna read later?" "Don't worry about it. I have it all in my head." "Well, good for you." In the end, Juho ended up giving away six books on top of several other books that he had collected for reference in writing 'Language of God.' While Seo Kwang carefully stuffed his backpack with those books, Juho observed him intently. In hindsight, Seo Kwang had been doing a lot of things that would contribute to translating, such as reading and writing. One of the painful realizations Juho had while translating was that he had to wrestle with every single sentence in the book as sentences tended to be intertwined with each other. He had to be careful to follow an invisible trail. One of the first things that Juho had to do as a translator was to read what he was translating, referring to the given information for implicit ones in the book. He carefully studied the author's intent, hidden or omitted significances and meanings, point of views, and the characters' states of mind. Although many would find those subjects to be unfamiliar and technical, it was a walk in the park for Seo Kwang, and the fact that he was part of the Literature Club spoke of his writing skill. Juho stared intently at Seo Kwang as he saw his friend in a different light. Seo Kwang's significant improvement in English in the past year was not a coincidence. He had been training himself without knowing. Perhaps he had much more potential as translator than he realized. Soon, the showtime came around, and the two sat on the couch in front of the TV with snacks and beverages. "It's starting!" The Great Book Club. The show started with a cheerful introduction by the five cast members made of two hosts, one book critic, one poet, and two celebrity guests, who had yet to make an appearance. "If they were just gonna tell us who the guests were, they should've just showed them from the start," Seo Kwang muttered as he sipped on his beverage. Myung Joo Mu's appearance on The Great Book Club had already drawn a significant amount of media attention. With that, the cast members started off according to the script. "All right, everyone. The day we've all been waiting for is finally here. Dreams do come true!" There was excitement in everyone's faces. "That's right. The special episode our viewers have been desperately waiting for. Yun Woo Special!" Then, the five cast members applauded simultaneously. "Do you think these people know that Yun Woo's watching?" "It's not a live show." "Well, do you think they knew while they were filming?" "Don't know." As Juho munched on the snacks, Seo Kwang giggled mischievously beside him. "Mr. Lee, you're one of the people who's been most looking forward to this day." With that, the camera focused on Pyung Jin's face. He was wearing a blue tie this time. "That's right. I waited anxiously for this." The critic didn't deny the host. Then, the poet sitting next to him said, "What you shared about Yun Woo's translation turned out to be quite sensational." "Really?" "Yes. If you look at the bulletin board at our website, there are loads of people who are saying that they didn't realize the importance of proper translations until they heard you." "I agree. I didn't realize how important translations were, either." The cast members conversed candidly, and after a little while, a male celebrity chimed in. "Now, should we bring in our special guest? We went through a lot of trouble to cast him." "It's not Yun Woo, is it?" "Oh, man! That'd be amazing!" "I'll scream." Amid a number of reactions, the three hosts shouted simultaneously. "One of the hottest actors of this generation." "The special guest of this special occasion for The Great Book Club is..." "Myung Joo Mu of Trace of a Bird!" As The five cast members sprung up from their seats at the same time in order to welcome the actor, the set opened up from behind, and Myung Joo Mu appeared. "Ooh. That's him," Seo Kwang murmured while Juho drank his beverage. Just like the host had said, Myung Joo Mu was an actor who rose quickly to stardom after his appearance on the Trace of a Bird movie. As his long years as a nameless actor became known to the public, he started appearing more frequently on TV. "Hello." As the actor greeted the cast members and the audiences with a bright smile, everyone took their seats and candidly moved on to the main conversation. Fitting to its name, the show revolved around books, and that week was about the ones written by Juho. "If you look here, we have books all the way from Yun Woo's debut title to his most recent book, the sixth volume of 'Language of God.'" "This really feels like the Yun Woo Special!" The cast members exclaimed as they examined the books. "Despite having debuted recently, Yun Woo has written quite an array of books, from pure literature to genre novels, and now, a translation." "I think versatility is one of Yun Woo's biggest strengths." "Maybe it's just me, but whenever I hear the name Yun Woo, I get the image of an author who writes fanatically. Not that I've met him in person or anything. Haha!" The poet added onto what Pyung Jin said, saying that he wasn't entirely wrong in the way he felt. "What do you think, Myung Joo? Do you agree?" As the host passed the turn to speak to Myung Joo, the actor thought for a brief moment and opened his mouth to say, "I'm not sure. I only met him once, but I never saw him write even then." "We don't even know what he looks like." "I do. Saw him from his head to toe." Ignoring Seo Kwang's playful remark, Juho focused on the show. "Now, Myung Joo?" the female host called for the actor, and he answered with his distinctively low voice. Then, the host asked, "What are your favorite books?"

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160 To Doubt, or To Look Forward to It 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl The camera focused on Myung Joo's face looking somewhat flustered. "'Trace of a Bird!' Duh," Seo Kwang said as he grabbed a handful of chips. Unlike his light-hearted remark, the actor was contemplating the answer quite seriously. "It's somewhat of an obvious question, but I'm still curious." "I'd be hard-pressed, too." As the actor's thoughts lasted longer than anticipated, and the hosts took turns to chime in. Then, Myung Joo picked a book with a smile. "You know, I gotta go with this one, 'Trace of a Bird.'" "Ah. Playing it safe, are we?" "Was that too predictable?" Like Seo Kwang had predicted, Myung Joo had picked 'Trace of a Bird.' A bird in a white background. Then, the screen transitioned into an informative sequence about the book, which was edited to look like a movie preview. The beginning of a genius author. Debut title. Film adaptation. "What was your reason for choosing that particular book? Does it have anything to do with you being in the movie?" the host asked. "As far as the latter half of your question, I can't say that it didn't affect my decision. Honestly, I had read the book before I auditioned for the role." "Really?" "Yes. I was already a fan of Yun Woo by then. My job involves expressing various things like emotions or situations, so as soon as I read the book, I thought: 'If only I can be this expressive.'" Then, Pyung Jin, the book critic spoke up. "I think that's proof that Yun Woo had successfully formed his own voice and style right off the bat with his debut title. There's no hesitation in the way the author describes a person's emotional state, and he limites his use of modifiers to an appropriate level. The balance of the book as a whole, as well as that of between the scenes, is superb. Back then, I wasn't sure if it was the author's actual talent or if it was just a carefully calculated result, but the answer became obvious when I read 'Sound of Wailing.'" Everyone listened to the critic intently as they agreed with him. Then, the poet asked the actor in a mischievously, "You met Yun Woo in person, right?" At that, Seo Kwang poked at Juho's sides, but Juho ignored him and kept his eyes fixed on the TV. Myung Joo was smiling while scratching his cheek. "Yes. Once." Then, a series of desperate voices sounded simultaneously, demanding the actor share more. "Please! Tell us more!" "I'm dying to hear this!" "The viewers will love it!" "Our show's been doing so well lately. Help us keep up the pace, Myung Joo!" Then, Myung Joo opened his mouth as if giving into their pressure and said, "I was told to keep it to myself." Everyone on set jeered at the actor's less than satisfying answer, and Seo Kwan, too, joined in with them for some reason. "Oh, c'mon!" "Like director, like actor." "Well, don't you think this is over! We'll get back to ya, Myung Joo." With that, the hosts moved on to talking about another book that had received the most number of votes, and the poet took the turn to speak. "For me, it's 'Language of God,'" he said as he placed his hands on a series of books bundled into a single stack, and like previously, the screen transitioned into a similar sequence that looked like a movie preview. 'The rise of Yun Woo's rival, Won Yi Young. Readers respond to the truth.' "I was seriously impressed by Yun Woo's imagination. Oh, wait! Is it Won Yi Young?" "I think I was in a daze for a good while when I found out that Yun Woo and Won Yi Young were the same person. I mean, people were going back and forth constantly over that matter! I doubted my own eyes because I was on Yun Woo's side." "I was on Won Yi Young's." Then, the poet went on to explain the world in 'Language of God,' from the characters to the regions, and others various fictional beings, including the languages. "As for these languages, you can find detailed explanations in the offshoot volume of the book, called 'Language of God: Language.' I gotta say, as soon as I read it, I felt all my doubts melt away, and it dawned on me that Yun Woo really created all those languages on his own. If you look here, there's a mention of the author drawing inspiration from the development of various languages across the world." "There have been people who actually started speaking those languages, right?" "I believe that some of the more avid readers speak up to three of those languages. Not to mention, there are people researching them as we speak." "This world is sure full of incredible people, like the person who created those languages and those who speak them. Honestly, I was still just as lost, even after reading the offshoot volume. I'm struggling with Korean, as is." At that, Seo Kwang agreed enthusiastically, and Juho munched on his chips. "Now, what about you, Mr. Lee?" Lastly, the turn went to the critic, and he rose from his seat to walk over to the books. Then, without hesitation, he picked up a book in each of his hands. "Without a doubt." 'Belongings' 'Sound of Wailing.' Despite the host's pressure to pick one, Pyung Jin insisted on choosing two. "Now, I don't have to mention that one of these books won the Dong Kyung Literary Award." "Of course. You were one of the judges, right? You spoke with passion that day." Then, the screen showed an excerpt of a previous episode, where the critic spoke about the book while wearing an orange tie. By the time the screen returned to the current episode, there was only 'Belongings' in the critic's hands. The writing 'Translated By: Yun Woo' became visible. "OK. So, 'Sound of Wailing' seems to be the most popular book of the day. Mr. Lee, would you mind explaining the book in your hands to us?" At the host's remark, Juho knew what had happened immediately. 'His answer must have been too long.' "I bet they had to cut out his answer," Seo Kwang murmured, and Pyung Jin began to talk about 'Belongings.' "This book was actually written by Kelley Coin, but as you know, it also happens to be Yun Woo's first translation." "I knew you'd pick that book, Mr. Lee," the poet interjected, and Pyung Jin cleared his throat quietly and said, "What do you think are some of the most important things in a translation?" The host directed the turn to Myung Joo, and after thinking for a brief moment, he answered, "Uh… I'd figure that you have to speak the language you're translating from?" "That's right. You have to be fluent in the language you're translating from, as well as the language you're translating to. I mean, that's what makes it a translation, right? Turning a book written in one language into another. The more the translator is fluent in both languages, the better the quality of the translation." The actor listened intently at the critic's explanation. "There are several types of translations, and as you know, it's also a necessary component in film and business. Of course, every field goes by different standards, but in the field of literature, the most important thing is keeping the uniqueness intact." "Uniqueness?" the actor asked, and other cast members were nodding as if they were already familiar with what they were hearing. "Novels are very different from a business document, where you have the freedom to let your subordinate take over and fill it out for you. It's not a standardized system where a person takes over when another resigns. When an author dies, we can't expect any more books from them," Pyung Jin said calmly. "And it is a translator's job to translate such books." Then, Juho realized that Seo Kwang was oddly quiet. He was sitting in silence, without moving a muscle. Only his eyes were fixed on the TV screen. "So, naturally, a translator would feel motivated to translate the author's original work as is." At that, Myung Joo nodded, and the hosts didn't go out of their way to cheer up the cast members as the air sank into silence. They simply carried on with their jobs: to host the show. "So, what does that mean for Yun Woo's translation?" "Why do you think I was so insistent on choosing this book? There are two things that are missing in this book." "Two things? Like what?" "Mistranslations and Yun Woo." Pyung Jin's tie moved slightly as he spoke. "There's not one bit of mistranslation in this book. It might be that I missed it, but I would've recognized a bad translation if I saw it. It's very clean, and considering that it's Yun Woo's first translation, he did an incredible job." The cast members and the audiences alike exclaimed quietly as they listened to Pyung Jin intently. "Also, Yun Woo. There's no trace of him anywhere. The entire time, I was under the impression that I was reading a book written by Kelley Coin. I've read the original, and it's not easy to replicate that sort of reading experience. This is a translated version, I might add, so it'd be natural if something felt like it might have been changed, and that's why translators try to minimize those changes as much as possible. But, in Yun Woo's case, there's not one bit where it feels like it's been changed. It's very odd how identical it feels to reading the original." Then, the camera showed Myung Joo's face, which looked deeply impressed. "I'd recommend this book to anyone who's getting their hands on Kelley Coin for the first time. They will get the full Kelley Coin experience." With that, Pyung Jin finished his segment and locked eyes with Myung Joo. "Speaking of which, did you hear anything about the meeting between Kelley Coin and Yun Woo?" At the unexpected question, Myung Joo chuckled as if he was caught off guard, and the rest of the cast members joined in. "You too, Mr. Lee?" "But really, tell us!" "We're dying to know what kind of things Kelley Coin would have talked about with Yun Woo! This is Kelley Coin we're talking about here, and we discussed his books in the past too. You guys know about this, right?" The host asked the audience. "That's why people were making such a big deal out of it, saying things like 'Kelley Coin's at it again!' or 'What business does an eighteen year old have in translating?' Although, I gotta admit that I was secretly rooting for Yun Woo as a fan." "So, if there's anything you know about the meeting between Kelley Coin and Yun Woo, tell us!" At everyone's urges, Myung Joo sighed quietly and answered in a sad voice, "I'd love to know as well." He was sincere, and it had the power to soften their hearts. The rest of the cast members quietly let him off the hook and then went on to leave a video message for Yun Woo, like previously. "Yun Woo, we'd love to have you!" While Juho brought a chip up to his mouth, he looked in Seo Kwang's direction. His friend was deeply moved, and his eyes sparkled with inspiration. "I'm gonna translate your books. No matter what," he declared all of a sudden. "All right." Juho rooted internally for his determined friend. Whether or not he would be able to accomplish his goal was not important. What mattered was that he was making the effort. Then, Juho turned his eyes back to the screen, where his books were resting on the desk. At that, he resolved himself that he would write as long as he could with a determination similar to his friend's sitting next to him. "Oh, yeah! We need to start thinking about essay contests, huh?" "Yep," Juho answered Seo Kwang. Mr. Moon had posted quite a few of flyers about various contests on the chalkboard. "Have you decided which contest you wanna be in?" "Not yet. I'm still deciding. You?" "I'm gonna try the same competition as last year." Then, Juho contemplated, 'What to do? I wouldn't mind being part of the same competition as last year.' Then, he remembered a person. Sung Pil. Although they had never agreed on being at the same contest, they had competed at the same contest. 'Maybe it'll happen again,' Juho thought as he decided to give him a call. "'Language of God' is almost done, huh," Seo Kwang said, looking ahead at the TV screen. "When's the last volume coming out? I'm dying to know. Oh! Do you have the manuscript?" "Yes, I do." 'Gasp!' Then, Seo Kwang clasped his chest all of a sudden. "You mean… you have the manuscript?!" "Yep. It's just the finale though. I had an idea about how to end the series, so I ended up writing it before the sixth volume. It's in my room, actually." At that, Seo Kwang bounced on the couch anxiously with excitement. It was obvious that he was tempted, and Juho munched on his chips. "Do you want me to bring it?" "Ugh! Don't you test me!" "I can just show you, you know." "No. That'd be cheating. It wouldn't be fair to other readers." "What's the big deal? My editor's read it too." "That's different!" Seo Kwang shouted emphatically. "OK, then." "Wait, wait." 'What do you want from me?' Juho thought as he observed Seo Kwang quietly, who was struggling to fight off the sweet temptation of the devil himself. Then, sending Sung Pil a text about the essay contest, he redirected his attention to the TV. That night, Juho heard the news from Nam Kyung that 'Belongings' started selling at an increasing rate after the show aired.

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161 You Who Live within a Book 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Been a while." "Long time no see." That morning, Juho got out of bed early in order to go to the park for morning exercises. Surprisingly, there was someone, who had arrived at the park before him, stretching at the entrance of the park. It was Sung Pil. Although Juho hadn't seen him in a while, Sung Pil's eyebrows were as thick as ever, and Juho was glad to see what seemed like an indication that his friend was well. Then, the two jogged through the quiet park together. "How's writing going?" Juho asked as they ran through the usual route, his voice shaking with every step he took. The scenery filled with trees and green grass rushed past him. "I'm still writing for now. Things are still in their early stages," Sung Pil answered, his voice also shaking with every step. In his past life, Juho didn't read Sung Pil's debut work because his writing career was beginning to fall apart around the same time. Therefore, there was no way to know if what Sung Pil was writing would be the same as that of the past. Besides, what was more important was the fact that he was still writing, regardless of whether he was writing the same story as before or not. As long as his debut wasn't a coincidence, Sung Pil would be more than capable to accomplishing his goal of becoming an author. After all, his ability to write hadn't changed. "Can I ask what your story's about?" "It's about a bank." "A bank?" Juho asked as he stared at a gingko tree in the scenery rushing past him. (TL's Note: In Korean, the word "bank" and "gingko (nuts)" are homonyms, hence Juho's following thoughts.) It wasn't clear whether Sung Pil was referring to the tree or a building. However, considering his personality, it was likely that he would write about the tree. Honest, precious, strong roots, and reaching for the sky as it fought daily to grow straight. For that reason, Juho asked, "You mean the tree, right?" "No. The financial establishment." Sung Pil gave him a clear cut answer. The financial establishment. A bank was a place where money went in and out of, and people often sought its services for various reasons, like making deposits or getting loans. It was one of the most crucial establishments for those who lived in a capitalist society, and it was also a place where hope and despair coexisted. "Huh. I guess that suits you too." At Juho's remark, Sung Pil turned his head to look at him. In Juho's eyes, Sung Pil hadn't changed one bit since their first meeting. "I remember you going to the police station to return some money you found on the street." "I sure did." "But why are you writing about a bank now?" "I had some business that I needed to attend to there, and it just so happens that I had finished reading 'Sound of Wailing' around that time, so I found myself seeing the world around me a little bit differently from the book's lingering aftereffect. Then, when I got to the bank, that was when things looked really different. For the first time, I saw the look on people's faces while they were waiting for their turns with their numbered tickets, and that's when I felt like I had to write about it." Juho was well acquainted with moments like that, when his head was filled with signals such as: 'I have to write about this, what I've felt and seen." "I assume you went there often from then on?" "Since I started writing, I've been going at least three times a week." "Did they try to kick you out or anything?" "No. I just sit there quietly. If anything, I made friends with a security guard there. He's quite experienced, and I thought he would be the one person who saw everything that happened in the bank, so I've been writing a story from his point of view." "That sounds interesting." As Juho was starting to run out of breath, he found himself chuckling at the same time with every exhale. He was looking forward to Sung Pil's story, and for the first time, he was glad that he hadn't read it in the past life. Back then, he had felt nothing more than childish jealousy for Sung Pil, who was the next rising star after Yun Woo. Unlike himself, who had been at the lowest point of his life, Sung Pil had been making his presence known consistently in the literary world, and Juho had been less than willing to read the new author's book. Instead, he had watched quietly from the distance. However, things were different in the present. Now, Juho was rooting for the birth of his friend's debut title. "You're in it, too." "Me?" "Yeah. A version of you in that interview." Slightly confused, Juho looked at Sung Pil, who remained calm. "Interview? As in the one from the school festival?" "Yeah, that." Then, the face of the monkey-like Newspaper Club member rushed past Juho's mind. "There's an author who comes to the bank." With that, Sung Pil began to talk about his story, which was yet to be finished. A customer and an author. "And?" "I drew inspiration from your interview." Juho's eyes moved busily as he immersed himself in thought. 'I'm in his story? Me? In that interview?' Rather than describing him more concisely and directly, Sung Pil was intentional about describing the Juho from the interview, and he was not the type to beat around the bush. "Is that different from how I am at the moment?" At Juho's question, Sung Pil smiled affirmingly. "You really sounded like an author in that interview." Juho felt like he was gasping for breath all of a sudden. "... Really?" "You have clear opinions and values on writing, and there is a definite standard that you use to discern what you can share and what you can't. The person in that interview was Juho Woo, the author of 'Grains of Sand,' unlike you, who's not fazed by anything." "Well, I'm grateful that you see me that way. That interview must have left quite an impression on you, huh?" "Enough to remember it while I write." Sung Pil was writing his debut title, and the fact that there was a story within him that was flowing out of him was only natural. If anything, it was closer to being evidence that he was on the right track. On the other hand, Juho found it odd that he was in the middle of his friend's story. Growing curious about the author in Sung Pil's story, Juho asked him, "What's he like?" Then, after thinking for a brief moment, Sung Pil answered calmly, "He's an adult. Cold and level-headed. He's a large-figured man. I don't know, but I had an image of a hunter for some reason, the kind that wouldn't be afraid to dance with a bear in Russia." Juho chuckled as the character's description grew further away from his own, and Sung Pil added as if to apologize, "It was just inspired by you." "Right." Just an inspiration. However, Juho had to force himself to ignore feeling pricked in the heart. At that moment, the rest area came into view in the distance, and Sung Pil made a suggestion before Juho even had time to speak. "Race?" "You're on." "Loser buys drinks." As Juho agreed silently, the two sprang forward, clenching their teeth and running with everything they had. In the end, the victory went to Juho. "Whew! I'm feeling drowsy. I could use a nap right about now." As they quenched their thirst while sprawled on the bench, Juho looked up at the sky while catching his breath. It was clear, and he was feeling drowsy after exercising rigorously in the quiet park. At that moment, a thunderous sound roared from the side, or more precisely, from the stomach of the person next to him. "I'm getting hungry." Typical Sung Pil. "What do you wanna eat?" Juho asked. Although neither of them had agreed on what they were going to eat, they rose from their seats and made their way toward a hole-in-the-wall restaurant they had made themselves regulars of. It was a gukbap restaurant that sold ham hocks on the side. As they walked in, they saw a number of customers eating at their small tables without even looking in their direction, each concentrating on refueling themselves with the energy needed for the day. Walking past them, Juho and Sung Pil sat themselves at the innermost table in the restaurant. "What are you getting?" "The usual." With that, Juho ordered two bowls of soondaeguk, and the server went into the kitchen after taking the order in a manner neither friendly nor abrupt. As a man paid for his meal and left the restaurant, another lady came out of the kitchen instead of the server, who had gone to clean the table. The two were each doing their jobs without saying anything, and it made the fifty year tradition of that restaurant all the more convincing. Soon, the two bowls of soondaeguk made their way onto Juho and Sung Pil's table, and they each put a bowl of rice into their soups. (TL's Note: Gukbap means rice with soup in Korean. Soondaeguk is a Korean soup with slices of pork blood sausage and meat and/or intestines.) "It's good," Sung Pil said after a spoonful of soup, and Juho agreed quietly as the soup warmed up his stomach. Then, picking up a piece of radish kimchi, he asked, "Where you are competing this year?" "Competing?" "The essay contest?" Sung Pil gave him no answer. Instead, he immersed himself in thought while chewing his food. Then, as Juho was about to go in for his third bite, he answered in a not-so-confident voice, "I don't know." It was as Juho had expected. He was already in the middle of writing a story, and Juho was familiar with his desire to focus on writing. "You're planning on taking part in one, right?" Sung Pil asked. "Yeah. I texted you. I looked up a few contests." "Where?" Then, Juho told him the most recent contest he had come across. "The 7th Literature Essay Contest." It was a contest hosted by a university in Gyeonggi-do, and it didn't have such a long history or tradition. Juho was intentional about applying for contests that were mildly unpopular. Not only was the contest quite far from his home, it was also rather unorganized as it was still growing in size. Because he had things to hide, Juho was always careful and deliberate about which contests he was applying to, and it seemed like "The 7th Literature Essay Contest," would meet his standards. After hearing Juho's explanation, Sung Pil asked, "Is there a reason for why you chose that contest?" Hiding the real reason, Juho said, "I just found it out of nowhere." Then, he added in order to change the subject, "If you want to focus on writing your story, you don't have to compete." Instead of asking a question, Sung Pil immersed himself in thought yet again. Meanwhile, assuming that he would be competing alone that year, Juho focused on eating his gukbap. He was well acquainted with an author's desire to focus on their work. "No, I'll apply." Juho looked up at Sung Pil's unexpected answer. He was chewing on a piece of radish while wearing a serene expression. "Why?" "What do you mean?" "Why compete?" "Because I want to be a better writer." At his straightforward answer, Juho barely managed to stop himself from saying Mr. Moon's go-to phrase: 'Not exactly wrong, but not exactly what I'm looking for either.' Despite Juho staring at him intently, Sung Pil didn't catch on, forcing Juho to ask, "Can you be a little more specific?" "I want to observe you." Although his answer was much too direct that time, Juho understood where he was coming from. "Because I'm in your story?" A story about a bank. "Yeah," Sung Pil answered, eating a big spoonful of his gukbap. "I'm confident what I'm thinking is accurate." "Wait, I thought you were writing about the version of me in the interview from the school festival? If you want the interview's content, I can just get you one." The version of Juho in Sung Pil's story was that of himself in that interview. In that case, it didn't quite make sense for Sung Pil to want to follow Juho to the contest. Like previously, Sung Pil answered calmly, "I want to be a better writer." "I see," after a brief silence, Juho answered as he had no choice but to answer briefly. Ever since he started writing, Sung Pil's hunger for writing had intensified significantly. Wanting to write and express himself better, he worked hard toward his goal, without trying to hide his desires. It was very Sung Pil-like. Like a gingko tree, his roots would only grow deeper as they absorbed massive amounts of water and sunlight, growing bigger as the tree spread out its branches. Juho wasn't particularly offended that Sung Pil was including him in his story, and he believed that what Sung Pil wanted to achieve by taking part in an essay contest was entirely up to himself. After all, Juho was always welcoming of new circumstances. From then on, the two focused on eating their food, and Juho told him bits of information regarding the contest. The preliminary round was set to take place two weeks from that day, and the finals were set to take place at a university campus, followed immediately by the award ceremony. "You're gonna make it through the preliminary round at least, right? You gotta make it to the finals if you want to observe me." "I'll just have to do my best," Sung Pil answered honestly to Juho's joke. Without being caught off guard by his abruptness, Juho drank from his cup. It was refreshing. 'I better start preparing as soon as I get back.'

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162 You Who Live within a Book 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "How did the preliminary round go?" Bom asked as Juho sat down, yet to set his backpack aside. When he looked at her, Bom's face was filled with anticipation. "Like a walk in the park." Juho gave an answer that would satisfy her. At that, Bom smiled brightly and took out her phone to send a text to someone. "Sun Hwa?" "Yep, and Bo Suk. She wanted to know. I'm going first between the three of us, so I have to make sure I start us off on the right foot." Like previously, Juho ended up being the first among the club members to compete in a contest. However, unlike the news he had heard of the preliminary round of the essay contest he was taking part in, Sung Pil had yet to contact him. Although Juho felt slightly concerned, he decided to set it aside for the time being. Then, Bom said as she set her phone down, "Bo Suk was especially anxious." "Really?" "It is her first time." Juho thought back to the day when Mr. Moon had asked Bo Suk whether or not she planned on taking part in an essay contest. She had answered after a brief time thought, "Yes, I'll give it a shot." It was quick, and nobody had anything to add to her decision. "Has she decided on which contest she will compete in?" "Not yet." "There's time." "I think she's having trouble making up her mind. You know how confusing it was for us too." While Juho knew relatively better what he had been looking for, things hadn't been as simple for the rest of the club members. "She was certain about not wanting to compete in the same contest with you," Bom said as if she identified with Bo Suk. To which, Juho answered with a smile, "I'm starting to feel a little hurt here. You guys are treating me like a bomb." "Sorry, but I wouldn't want to cross paths with you, even by coincidence," she said light-heartedly, like a code between them. Then, she added with a bright smile, "So, you go and come back with an award, so Bo Suk feels motivated." "What's my award have anything to do with her?" "C'mon now. It has everything to do with her. Once she sees the person she looks up to the most come back with an award, she'll be bound to feel motivated." "The person she looks up to the most, huh?" "Her eyes sparkle every time she sees you." At that, Juho looked at Bom and said, "How about you take that role?" "Me?" "Yeah. You guys are close. Besides, don't you think that it's more effective when a close friend is rooting for you?" A flustered look appeared on Bom's face. Then, she answered in a quieter voice, "... don't pressure me like that now." "Haha!" Juho hadn't intended on pressuring Bom. However, if he were to pick the club member who had improved the most in writing, he would have picked her, and the rest of the club would agree. She was ready to write with all her heart, and Juho sincerely hoped that the essay contest would bring her confidence. Then, Juho asked her, "Your preliminary round is coming up soon, right?" "Yep. By the time you're done with your finals, it should be my turn. It is my second time at the contest." "Is it the same contest as last year?" Bom nodded quietly. She had to have been preparing herself to the best of her ability. "You feel less anxious than last year, right?" "A little. Very, very little," Bom answered as she showed Juho the tips of her nails in order to prove her point. She seemed to be a bit more at ease than previously. "OK, guys. I'm gonna start collecting your phones now." At the voice of the timid class president, only a handful of students stepped toward the podium to turn their phones in. Then, as Juho rose from his seat, his phone vibrated in his hand, and when he checked, the name Sung Pil appeared on the screen. At that, Juho realized that it was the news he had been waiting desperately for. As he checked the message quickly, a brief, one word text came into view: Pass. "What is it? Huh?" Bom asked as she returned to her desk after turning her phone in. "What's with the silly smile?" Juho answered with his eyes fixed on the screen of his phone, "I have a friend who always meets my expectations." Then, Juho went on to make plans with Sung Pil for that same day. --- "This is a big campus." "You can see the field from here. Is that fertilizer I'm smelling?" Although the place wasn't all that far from Seoul, it gave off a welcoming, country-like atmosphere, and it was especially so for the university campus Juho and Sung Pil were in. An earthy fertilizer smell was in the air, and the two walked further into the campus as they looked around it. There were other students besides Juho and Sung Pil who seemed like contestants in the same competition, and all contestants were to meet in a big lecture hall named Garam Hall. "Love the fresh air," Juho said as he took a deep breath, realizing how inferior the air he had been breathing up to that point had been. "I like this campus." At Juho's remark, Sung Pil asked, "How are your grades?" "That question's too real." Then, they walked past the gingko trees lined up by the street. "You're planning on going to college, right?" Sung Pil asked, looking at the massive building they were approaching. Contrary to Juho's expectations, the conversation continued. As a high school student, attending a university was an obvious goal, and judging from the certainty in Sung Pil's voice, Juho was able to understand where he was coming from. "I'm not sure." "Are you not going to?" That time, Sung Pil asked while emphasizing the vague possibility in Juho's answer, and Juho, too, looked up at the massive building. "I haven't decided yet." "What does that mean? Does that mean you might end up not going to one?" "Maybe. I'm not obligated to." "It may not be an obligation, but I heard that it's essential." Then, Juho looked at Sung Pil, and asked, "If it is, then why do you ask?" "Well…" "Aren't you asking because there's a choice in the matter?" He looked around the peaceful campus. People were bound to have differing opinions about that university in Gyeonggi-do, and because of that, conflict would be inevitable. Those who want to attend, and those who didn't. Those who couldn't attend, and those who were obligated to. Everyone fought their own battles. While Juho himself was leaning toward the second of the four choices, there were still times when he would find himself confused about his decision. Nobody knew the result of the choice they made, therefore, and they had no reason to fear others criticizing or mocking their decision. "What do you think I should do then?" "Just like everything else, you keep pondering and you stumble across an answer, and then the responsibilities." "What if you make the wrong decision?" "It's fine. You'll have a way out." Then, Juho said as they arrived at the building, "I don't think this is it." "... Are we at the wrong building?" "Let's go back." "Is there time?" At that, Juho checked the time and answered, "Yeah, plenty." In the end, it wasn't until they gave themselves a thorough tour of the campus that they arrived at Garam Hall. --- "I will now present the topic of the 7th Literature Essay Contest," said a middle-aged woman, who had introduced herself as a professor of creative literature, and a student sitting next to her typed busily on the keyboard. Then, three topics appeared on the screen at the center of the hall: challenge, umbrella, and taxi driver. As the professor recited the topics, Juho stared at those words for a brief moment. While he contemplated what to write, he felt a burning gaze from behind him. Looking back, he saw Sung Pil, who was sitting diagonally from him. They were in opposite places from last year's contest. "Now, please, feel free to write anywhere within campus." An unexpected announcement sounded. The contestants weren't limited to writing in the lecture hall, and Juho quietly celebrated the fact that he could be free from the burning gaze that came from behind him. "Two hours from now, you may return to this lecture hall with your essays. There's a campus directory, the competition schedule and where you can submit your work on the handout we just gave you, so please, keep that in mind." "Yes, ma'am." As a handful of students responded by reflex, the professor began to converse with her T.A while the contestants made their way out of the lecture hall. Juho looked down at the manuscript paper and the handout in his hands. Just as the professor had said, there was a directory, a schedule and an indication of where to submit the essay, including the time and location of the award ceremony. Underneath that, were things that contestants needed to be mindful of, and while Juho was reading them, Sung Pil struck up a conversation with him. "Are you gonna write here?" Juho looked up. "Why?" "I'm gonna follow you." He was rather straightforward. Then, Juho rose from his seat, saying, "Well, the entire campus is at our disposal, so we might as well take advantage of it." "What about that trail with gingko trees?" There were rare occasions in life when misdirections turned out favorably, and because they had already been to the trail before arriving at the lecture hall, they didn't have to worry about getting lost or not returning in time. Then, Sung Pil nodded enthusiastically as if he was fond of Juho's suggestion. Just like that, the two exited the lecture hall with the little burdens they had, such as paper and writing tools. "As expected. It's quiet here." The two had arrived at the end of the trail. The air was still fresh, and the fertilizer smell was nearly gone. Unlike most students who wouldn't have hesitated to turn back at the smell and find a different place to write, Juho and Sung Pil were at the trail alone, as if they had reserved the place for themselves. There was nobody coming out of the building which the two had mistaken as Garam Hall, either. "There's a gazebo there. Should we check it out?" Juho made his way toward the garden, which was decorated with flower pots. It seemed like a resting area, and along with a gazebo, there were a number of benches throughout it as well. Each finding a seat, Juho settled at the gazebo while Sung Pil chose a bench placed in the middle of the trail. They were neither near nor distant from each other. With Sung Pil's face visible through what looked like a wall of reeds, Juho felt comforted enough to write in peace. "Well, shall we?" "Yeah." With that, their conversation came to an end. Although Sung Pil moved around busily to observe Juho, he returned to his post eventually to write. He was a terrible multitasker. Sensing that he was free from Sung Pil's burning gaze, Juho thought about the three topics: challenge, umbrella, and taxi driver. 'What should I pick? What should I write?' Sung Pil had told him once that he was planning on creating a character based on Juho from the interview during the school festival, and he was sensitive enough to recognize the minute difference between the Juho from the interview and the person he was facing. Juho agreed with Sung Pil that he had sounded more like an author in the interview, and the person who had been interviewed by the monkey-like classmate had been an author named Juho Woo. Sung Pil had read 'Grains of Sand.' Although different from Yun Woo, it was just as Yun Woo-like in terms of quality, and because of that, the rest of the club members had been avoiding competing in the same contest as Juho. However, Sung Pil was just about the opposite. He was excited to compete with Juho and he had come up with the goal of being Yun Woo's rival after reading his books. At that, Juho felt an unfounded certainty that Sung Pil would accept him as he was even after discovering that he was Yun Woo all along. Looking forward to the day when they would meet as authors, Juho put pressure into his hand. Until then, the best thing to do was to write with all his heart. "Should I try writing about him, too?" Challenge, umbrella, taxi driver. Juho decided to write about challenge, which had a lot in common with Sung Pil, who kept pushing forward without fearing what other people had to say about him. Juho imagined a tall gingko tree, reaching up high with a thick trunk. It didn't try to avoid thunder or lumberjacks. It simply stood its ground and survived, providing a resting spot for people. Sustained by the nutrients in the soil, the tree stood stubbornly in its place, and there were people who ran past it consistently, every morning. While they tended to vent at the tree, they also ignored or leaned against, or were impressed or envious of it. Seeing the course of human life, from their birth to becoming a part of a society, reproducing, and dying, the tree came to realize something about humans. The very act of them running past it was a challenge in and of itself. Living through their daily lives was a noble challenge, and the tree also came to realize that it had also been making the same challenge. Juho moved his hands and wrote calmly. The gazebo was peaceful as there were no cars or pedestrians around it. There were flower pots around him, and next to them were the gingko trees that were lining up the trail. Then, a thought crossed his mind, 'Maybe this gingko tree is reading my essay over my shoulders.' With that, he concentrated all the more, and he was left uninterrupted until he finished writing. It had to be the trees around him.

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163 You Who Live within a Book 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl As Juho wrote the very last word in his essay, a gust of wind blew all of a sudden, blowing against Juho's paper in the gazebo. Then, holding onto those pages, Juho looked up and felt the wind in a daze. It was the very first time he was able to concentrate from start to finish in a contest. "How'd you do?" Sung Pil asked, and Juho grew curious about whether or not Sung Pil saw him writing and of what he might have thought. Maybe it was already part of the book that would be announced to the world for the first time. "I think I did all right." Sung Pil smiled at Juho's light-hearted answer. "So, it went well," he said with certainty. "What makes you think that?" "Because I saw it with my own eyes," Sung Pil gave a rather author-like answer, and Juho rose from his seat, saying, "You got me." "How well?" "Almost unfairly good, maybe?" "... That's a shameless answer." Then, Juho looked down at the essay in his hands of which he was quite proud, asking, "What if I get first place?" "I'm a contestant too, you know." Sung Pil reminded Juho of his existence, and his distinctively thick eyebrows twitched. Truth be told, Juho didn't need to be reminded of Sung Pil's existence, nor of his skill. "Well, let's go submit our essays then. What's the time?" Then, Sung Pil checked the time. "We have plenty." With that, the two went back the way they came from, and the air sank back into silence, absent of cars or other pedestrians. As Juho read the handout while walking, Sung Pil stared at him intently. Then, he opened his mouth all of a sudden to say, "So, there's something I'm curious about." "Yeah?" Juho answered with his eyes still on the handout. "Are you planning on not going to the award ceremony?" At that, Juho looked up from the handout and looked at Sung Pil for a brief time. Soon, he went back to looking at the handout, and written at the bottom of the page in bold, he saw: 'Contestants are encouraged, but not required, to attend the award ceremony. However, the award will be nullified with the absence of the awardee.' "What makes you think that?" "You left ahead last year too." "Oh, are you talking about Joon Soo Bong's lecture last year?" Sung Pil nodded. Back then, Juho had chosen to leave early instead of attending the remaining events scheduled for after the contest that day. "I gotta hand it to ya. You're quick." Juho complimented his friend with a smile. "Are you planning on leaving even if you win?" "Yep." Juho's reason for taking part in the essay contest was simple: he had wanted to. It didn't mean that he was looking to win an award. Simply, he wanted to compete in an essay contest as a proud member of the Literature Club, and he wanted to try writing in a new environment. In other words, he wanted a different experience, and unlike in his past life, he had a hunger to write. He was Yun Woo as well as Won Yi Young, who were both professional authors with published works. The only qualification for being in the contest was that the contestant had to be a student in high school, so while Juho didn't violate the rule, the contest was strictly for amateurs, putting Juho in an awkward category. For that reason, he had chosen things carefully and according to his own standards. "Well, the results aren't out yet, so let's not celebrate too soon." "You're right. We still have to submit our essays, too." By the time they were almost at Garam Hall, Sung Pil suggested, "Bet?" When Juho looked ahead, the distance wasn't nearly long enough to race. Then, Sung Pil shook the sheets of paper in his hands. "You mean in writing?" "Yeah. As soon as we submit, they'll evaluate our essays, and the results will come out by the end of lunchtime, so let's make a bet on whose name gets called out first," Sung Pil said in a serious tone, and he didn't seem like he was looking to lose either, so Juho accepted his challenge willingly. "Cool. Drinks?" "Let's make it two this time." "Raising the stakes, I see." From then on, the two went into the building while conversing light-heartedly. By the time they entered the lecture hall, there were quite a few people who had already arrived. Then, Juho and Sung Pil went on to submit their essays together. "Where should we go for lunch?" "I saw a noodle shop nearby." "OK. Let's go." --- "Professor Hwang?" The professor looked toward the sound of the T.A.'s voice, who was bringing a stack of essays. The contest wasn't all that big, and because all of the contestants were high school students, the judges rarely read through an essay from beginning to end. In most cases, judges were able to gauge the writer's skill by reading the beginning of the story's plot. Professor Hwang was sitting in front of five other judges, consisting of one author, who was an alumni of the university, and four other professors. Then, Professor Hwang looked at the professor sitting across from her. His books weren't very popular, and it was likely that most of the contestants would find his name obscure and unfamiliar. "OK. Shall we?" With the professor's words, the judges each picked up an essay simultaneously. Being the author's first time judging an essay contest, the author looked through the essays with eyes filled with anticipation, and Professor Hwang sighed mockingly, reminiscing about the old days when hope had still existed, like within the author. Being oblivious to Professor Hwang's sigh, the author, like the other professors, focused on the evaluations, and Professor Hwang played along, reading through the essays page by page. Most of them were crude and lacking, and that was only natural. As their job required the professor to read through thousands of essay pages of similar quality, the pages flipped in a mechanical manner. Then, by the time the professor had just made it past halfway through the stacks of essays, she sensed that something was out of place. While sorting out the essays that were tolerable from those that were unreadable, there was one essay in particular that had grabbed her attention. It was written by one of the handful of kids who had come all the way from Seoul. "This…" The professor hadn't expected to come across something like that in an essay contest for high school students. The essay stood out amid all the others, which was revealing of its writer's skill level. It was out of place and it was inherently different. Then, the professor flipped to the next page, and the next, trying read through them calmly. "Professor Hwang?" "Yes?" The professor looked up at Professor Myung's voice. Having taught the longest at the university, she grasped what the professor was feeling immediately, despite her trying to hide it. With a puzzled look, she asked the professor, "What's the matter? You seem stuck for some time." At her question, the professor finally put down the essay that she had been reading repeatedly. "I was just taken aback by something." Then, the professor shared a packaged version of the experience, and stopping what they were doing, the rest of the judges looked at Professor Myung. "Taken aback? It's not everyday that I see you taken aback by something, Professor Hwang." With that, Professor Myung took the essay from the professor. Willingly handing it over, the professor observed the veteran professor's reaction quietly. "Huh…!" Professor Myung exclaimed quietly, and her eyes sparkled curiously as she was intellectually stimulated. "This is definitely not the work of a high school student." At that, Professor Hwang brought up a name that raced past her mind. "Could it be Yun Woo?" "Yun Woo?" Surprised, the author looked at the two professors in turn. Then, Professor Myung shook her head slowly, saying, "No. It's different. The style isn't the same, and the depth is nowhere near Yun Woo's level." "But the only high school student who can write like this is Yun Woo. Especially considering the qualification of the contest, Professor Myung." "There are all sorts of people in this world, Professor Hwang," she said calmly. "There might be another prodigy who is yet to be known to the world." 'Sure, if we can find one, that is,' Professor Hwang muttered internally. "There are probably only a handful of them, of course," the veteran professor added as if she heard Professor Hwang's internal voice, and the professor smiled awkwardly. "There's always a higher ceiling, as well as a lower ground. Similarly, there's always someone better." "Right." "Anyway, we should be thankful that we have a candidate for first place, and our job has become just a little bit easier. Now, let's get to work, shall we?" "May I?" the author asked, itching to read the essay in Professor Myung's hand. While the author was quite impressed after reading through it in no time, they both agreed that it had not been written by Yun Woo. Then, at the urges of Professor Myung, the author moved on to the next essay. Just like that, the air sank back into silence, and the judges read through the essays quickly. Embarrassed of being overly excited and hastily mentioning the name Yun Woo, Professor Hwang looked around the room and saw the author sitting completely still, holding firmly to an essay while staring intently at it. At the strange sight, Professor Hwang let out a quiet cough, but the author was completely oblivious to it even as the professor coughed again for the second time. There was no progress, and Professor Myung, too, looked at the author as she noticed the strange sight. Then, just as she was about to call for the author, the author spoke up, "You're right, Professor Myung. There really are all sorts of people in this world." "What do you mean?" Professor Hwang asked, and Professor Myung also looked toward the author, who was wearing a stiff expression. As the author handed the essay over willingly to Professor Hwang without saying anything, the professor caught on to where the rookie judge was coming from immediately. "This…" The professor was perplexed yet again by the skill level and depth of an essay that was supposedly written by a high school student. Professor Hwang was well aware of that feeling. She had felt it when she had first started writing. Because she had yet to understand what writing was really like, the professor had been able to judge any book with ease, and it was easy to point out their flaws. However, the more she wrote, the more the professor came to realize how difficult writing really was, and judging a book was no longer a trivial matter. Simply, the professor was impressed. 'How can one write and think of something like this?" There was no way to truly gauge the actual skill level of a writer, and the reason for that was simple: an author would be, inherently, a better writer than a rookie who had just started writing. Just like that, time passed, and the rookie writer eventually became a professor at a university, dealing with students who were significantly less experienced. As a professor, the writer was able to have an objective opinion on the strengths and weaknesses of her students as writers-in-training, and things no longer felt like the past. Yet, the essay she was reading currently made her feel like she was stranded in the middle of the ocean, not knowing how deep it was or whether it had an end. Then, the essay went to Professor Myung's hands, and an expression similar to that of the author appeared on her face as she lost her composure after getting lost in its depth. "Yun Woo?" she murmured, and sensing something unusual, the other professors examined the essay themselves. "Marvelous." "The structure, the sentences. It doesn't seem like the writer had prepared for the contest, either. This is a short story." "How was this student able to write something like this in such a short time in an essay contest? This wouldn't possible unless one's in the habit of writing a significant amount on a regular basis." "The sentences are at a completely different level from all the other contestants." "Is this really Yun Woo?" "No. It carries a different feel, even the sentences do." Then, there was silence. Although the essay was definitely different from Yun Woo, it was just as good as something written by a genius author who had been treated as a freak of nature in the literary world. His fame had been spreading throughout the world. However, it seemed like there was yet another person who matched Yun Woo's skill. With that, the professor asked, "What's the name?" "Juho Woo." … and one of the professors read the name on the essay out loud. "Juho Woo." No one in the room had heard of that name, and the judges thought simultaneously, 'Will he be there at the award ceremony?' "Well, let's get to work, folks," Professor Myung said, and the rest nodded stiffly, still lingering around the essay. Although they all eventually moved on to reading through their stacks of essays, it was obvious that the name "Juho Woo" lingered in their minds. In the end, an essay was chosen unanimously as the first place.

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164 You Who Live within a Book 4

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

"That noodle soup was really something, wasn't it?"

"Yeah. It was pretty good."

After finishing their lunch, Juho and Sung Pil were on their way back to Garam Hall when they saw a crowd of staff setting up the stage for the award ceremony.

"That must be where the award ceremony is taking place," Sung Pil said as the staff were busy setting up the microphones.

Unhindered, the two walked past the stage and went into the lecture hall, where a good number of contestants had already arrived, and the professor and the T.A.'s were moving busily around the podium in preparation for announcing the winner. Then, Juho sat on the same spot where he had sat previously, while Sung Pil sat diagonally behind him. The hall was noisy from all the chattering. Soon, the doors closed, and the professor spoke up.

"Is everyone here?"

Like previously, a handful of students answered by reflex, and Juho listened intently to Professor Hwang, who seemed to be observing the students more intently than before.

"Great job everyone. I realized the students nowadays had come a long way as I read through your essays. You all did well," she said as if trying to encourage the contestants.

"As you know, there will be an award ceremony after announcing the winner. Attendance is not mandatory, but if you're one of the winners and you are absent when we call out your name during the ceremony, please keep in mind that your award will be nullified."

At that, a series of answers sounded yet again, and Juho hid behind them, murmuring, "Yes, ma'am. I'll gladly accept the loss."

Then, the professor opened up a sheet of paper that seemed like it would contain the list of winners. The contestants waited anxiously for the announcement, each in anticipation for their names to be called, hoping that the judges were moved by their heartfelt writing.

"We will now announce the winners."

Then, as Professor Hwang paused briefly to drink out of her water bottle, the air sank into silence immediately as all eyes were focused on her.

"Starting with third place."

With that, the professor called out a name, and a sound came from the back of the lecture hall. While a handful of them looked in the contestant's direction quietly, others applauded for them. Before the dull celebration came to its end, Professor Hwang moved onto the next person.

"Second place."

Juho heard the person sitting next to him tensing up. It was the very breath of a person who had worked hard toward their dreams, and the fact that they anticipated an award meant that there was a level of confidence toward their efforts and skill.

At that moment, Juho glanced over his shoulders at Sung Pil, who was sitting diagonally behind him, locking eyes with him.

A unexplainable tension traveled from his fingertips to his arms, urging him and making him think that he wanted to beat Sung Pil.

"Pil Sung Choi."

For a brief moment, Juho found himself wondering who that was. Pil Sung Choi. It was the name of the future author who would be called by his alias, Sung Pil. Sitting diagonally behind him, Sung Pil remained silent and looked straight ahead while the contestants around him looked around, confused and clapping. Then, Juho looked up slowly and also looked forward.

"First place."

The professor paused briefly, and announced…

"... Juho Woo."

… his name.

"Congratulations."

The professor congratulated the winner as she continued to observe the contestants. Then, reminding them where the award ceremony was taking place, she left the podium in a hurry, and the contestants also rose from their seats. As the lecture hall grew emptier, Juho stayed completely still in his seat.

"Congratulations," Sung Pil said, and Juho smiled.

"Is it a one-to-one situation, now?"

"You can say that."

With that, the essay contest came to an end. Being the last ones to leave the lecture hall, Juho and Sung Pil stood quietly as they watched the contestants exiting the campus to go home. The path was split in two: one toward home, and the other toward the award ceremony. The first path seemed to be significantly more popular, but before he joined in with other contestants himself, Juho asked Sung Pil, "What are you gonna do?"

Sung Pil pondered for a little while, looking to the left and to the right.

"You won first place. Are you really not gonna go?"

"No."

'I'm gonna go home. I already got to experience what it's like to win an award,' Juho said to his friend internally, and Sung Pil nodded quietly.

"If you don't think the bet was fair because my award was nullified, feel free to call it off."

"No, that doesn't change the fact that you won. I'll buy the drinks tomorrow morning."

Juho smiled at the appropriate recognition, and after a brief time thinking, Sung Pil said, "I'm gonna go to the award ceremony."

To which, Juho thought to himself, 'I knew it.' He knew that Sung Pil would have gone to the award ceremony even if he hadn't won.

"Well, take care now," Juho said as he raised his hand, and they said goodbye to each other. As Juho walked toward a crowd of students unhurriedly, Sung Pil looked at him for a little while. He stood out among the others around him.

Then, Sung Pil remembered Juho's appearance while he had been busy writing. Sung Pil was completely incapable of multitasking, and in the end, he had chosen to focus on writing. By the time his essay was nearly finished, he had looked up at Juho, and he found himself regretting having made that decision in hindsight.

"He was desperate."

Juho had written desperately, and he was quite unique even among Sung Pil's friends. By nature, he remained unfazed at all times and knew how to laugh off any taunts directed toward him. He also had a tendency to to stare intently at certain things, and Sung Pil realized that his thick eyebrows were one of his friend's subjects of observation. Looking like he didn't have a care in the world, he wasn't afraid to talk to strangers when he hardly ever talked about himself. It wasn't clear whether or not he was fond of Yun Woo.

For those reasons, it had been Sung Pil's first time seeing such serious and desperate look on Juho's face. It had been clear that he had been concentrating. Something had welled up from within, and Sung Pil grew all the more curious about Juho. He wanted to approach his mysterious friend, but unfortunately, Juho didn't wait for Sung Pil. As Juho looked up after finishing his essay, the world around him seemed to grow silent as his usual, lazily peaceful look appeared on his face. Although Sung Pil was left feeling unsatisfied, he had come to realize where his priorities needed to lie and how much room for improvement there was for him still.

Slowly, Sung Pil tried to revisit the things he had felt back then. From the rustling sound of the leaves and the surface of his paper, to the rigidity of the bench, the memories were still vivid. They were burned into his mind, unwilling to be removed. Then, suddenly, he had a feeling that things would never be the same as before, thanks to his strange friend.

'Had Juho worn that same look while he was interviewed?' Sung Pil asked himself as he saw and walked toward a number of tents in the distance, set up along a stage for the award ceremony.

'After the ceremony, I'll go home, eat, and write. I need to start writing about this person that I have in my mind.'

"The ceremony is this way!" a voice shouted as the judges had already taken their seats.

Then, while Sung Pil had to endure a displeased glare from the judges as he received his award, Juho was learning of some unexpected news.

"A character based on Yun Woo."

Juho read the title on his phone's screen out loud. Although it was unlikely, Juho wondered if Sung Pil had already made his professional debut as an author after publishing his book.

Then, he read through the article and saw the name Mideum. Upon reading the article that read 'The most recent volume of the Dr. Dong series has been drawing the attention of the masses with a character based on the author Yun Woo,' Juho couldn't help but find himself confused, as it was news that he wasn't expecting.

The names Yun Woo and Mideum were already on the rise in the most-searched list, and articles poured out about them through all media. As he stared at his phone in a daze, his phone started to vibrate, showing the moniker Mideum.

"I'm so sorry!"

A lively voice came from the receiver as soon as Juho answered the phone.

"About what?" Juho asked even though he was slowly coming to grasp things.

"Did you read the articles by any chance?"

"Yes, I was just reading them."

Then, Juho heard Mideum writhing in shame over the receiver.

"Things are starting to sound like I was taking advantage of your name…"

"Oh, is that what this is about?"

"No!"

"Then there's nothing to worry about. I didn't take it personally."

While the news was sudden, Juho wasn't all that offended, but despite Juho reassuring her, Mideum apologized profusely and tried to explain how things came to be. She was quite desperate.

"So, I had an interview that was about an hour long recently, and I talked about all sorts of things, from my book to authors I'm close to, my values, writing environments and the industry. I did try to answer the questions as sincerely as possible, but I only mentioned you for like five seconds! I can barely remember what I said because it was so short! I just said that 'I got a hint from Yun Woo' in passing. That's all I said, I swear!"

While Mideum was starting to get worked up, Juho caught on to the situation and how it had had an unintentional consequence.

"I did complain to the reporter, but it was too late by then. I swear, I'm never getting interviewed by that prick again!"

"That's a shame."

"I'm sorry."

"It's OK, really."

Then, as if comforted by Juho, she went on to express her frustration to him in a playful tone, "And guess what! Those five seconds in the interview ended up being the headline. Your name was marginally more popular than my convictions as an author."

"This is Yun Woo we're speaking of."

"Ugh. I don't know what to say to that. I'm experiencing the power of your name."

Then, Juho asked as he remembered the articles that had exaggerated the truth, as if the character in Mideum's book was the equivalent of Yun Woo in real life, "I can't remember what kind of hint I gave you, but it seems like it's inaccurate to say that there's a character based on me. Am I right?"

"Um… Yeah, you can say that. M-hm."

She sounded ambiguous for some reason.

'Is it really true, then?' Juho asked himself internally, but there was no way to know because he had yet to read her new book.

"What's the character like?"

"You haven't read it yet, have you?"

"Nope."

At Juho's brief answer, Mideum groaned, making a slightly bizarre sound. She wasn't angry. Rather, she sounded tantalized.

"It's still new. Could you let it slide?"

"No, no. I should be the one asking you to read it. Hm… How should I say this? There's something ambiguous about the new character."

"Ambiguous? Are we talking about the culprit?"

At that, Mideum denied emphatically and said, "Dr. Dong's friend."

Dr. Dong was the detective in Mideum's novel, and it wasn't clear what could be so ambiguous about his friend.

"The one that's mentioned only in the letters."

'A-ha!'

At that, Juho finally realized why Mideum had been beating around the bush so much. There was yet to be a definite description of that character.

"Frankly, it's more accurate to say that the character hasn't appeared yet. I didn't even reveal what was on the letter, so that character hasn't said a single word. I've been saving the character for the next volume, but now that we found ourselves in this ordeal, I feel like it's hindering my plans."

"What kind of character was it supposed to be?"

"Well, it wasn't one of the important ones… like a piece of cloud floating by."

A character that was yet to even make an appearance had managed to draw the attention of her readers somehow, and it was all thanks to the name Yun Woo. As an author, Mideum, too, was in a rather sticky situation, and there were usually two ways to go about it. The first was to go with the plan, and the second was to change the plan. It all depended on the author's choice, and she had expressed that she was tempted to change her plan.

"So, what are you gonna do? Are you gonna change it?"

Thankfully, the book was yet to be published, so the author still had the creative flexibility to change things around in her book.

"Well, I wouldn't change the flow of my novels or anything just solely on the readers' responses, but lately, I've started playing around with the idea of creating a character that's actually based on you. So, in light of that…"

She dragged on, and, by reflex, Juho knew that she was about to ask for a favor.

"Can I interview you?"

As expected. She was working on turning what had been exaggerated into truth.

"I feel like I'm way too popular for my own good."

Juho sighed quietly thinking of all the authors desperate to write about him.

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165 You Who Live within a Book 5

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

"What could you possibly get out of interviewing me?"

"Mr. Woo, I need you to be on the same page as me. You're a sensation with legs."

"Maybe from afar, but I don't have much to offer up close."

"No. You're an author of unlimited potential. I know it."

"Thanks for saying that."

"So, at least consider it," Mideum said in a desperate tone as Juho contemplated the idea. "This is a novel, so it's not like you're exposing yourself or anything, you know? If you're still not sure, do you want me to let you read the part you'd be in ahead of time?"

"I don't know…"

"I'll make it sound nice. Do you not trust me? My name isn't Mideum for no reason, you know!?"

(TL's Note: Mideum means trust in Korean)

Then, Juho thought of the articles he had read earlier. People were already ecstatic about the idea that there was a character modeled after him, and they waited desperately to read about the character in the book. That meant that his name would be attached to the character forever, no matter what Mideum made the character be like. In that case…

"Maybe it's not a terrible idea."

"Really? Really!?" she asked with her voice filled with excitement. And in the end, Juho ended up giving in to Mideum's request. Besides, it seemed like it would be fun to be part of a novel.

"OK. I'll cooperate."

Then, a loud cheer sounded from Juho's receiver. To get ahead of the interview, Juho told Mideum about his humble daily life. Without even a hobby, the only thing he did was write, whether at home or at school.

"Are you still interested?"

"Of course! Don't worry. Leave all the question to me. All you gotta do is sit back and relax."

Mideum was already ecstatic.

"What day works best for you? Where do you wanna meet? I'll go to you."

"Please be mindful that I'm a student. You said it would be an interview, right?"

"Actually, while we're at it, I'd like a little tour of your writing environment."

"Are you planning on visiting me at my school? You most likely won't get past the front gate."

"You know what, I'll settle for your studio. Where do you write?"

"At home."

"Mind if I come over, then?"

Although Juho had never had another author over at his house, there was no reason to say no, and just like that, he agreed to be interviewed by Mideum, completely forgetting about his prior engagement with the club members to update them on the contest results.

As Juho woke up early the next morning, he got out of bed and opened the window in his room for ventilation. There was no drastic change from the day before, except for his desk, which was slightly more organized. After all, what Mideum wanted to see wasn't a tidily organized room. Then, Juho got ready to go out.

"Is that author coming over today?" his mother asked as he closed the door on his way out of the room.

"Yes. She won't be around for too long. It's not like there's a whole lot to see or anything."

"All right. Did you clean your room? Do you want me to go in and clean it up a little?"

"No, thanks. It should be OK as is."

Then, his mother nodded willingly. She didn't try to force herself into the life of her son, who had a social life while still being a student. She knew how to be respectful of her son as a student and a responsible adult in society, and Juho was grateful for having a mother like that.

"Bye."

"Be safe now."

"OK."

With that, Juho left his house to meet with Mideum. When he looked up at the sky, he saw that it was covered in clouds, and the gusts of wind made the weather all the worse. Fortunately, bad weather wouldn't be enough to bring Mideum down.

As he walked toward the wind, the scent of freshly-baked bread in the air indicated to him that he was almost at the meeting spot, and when he looked up as he walked out of the alleyway, Mideum was standing in front of the subway station with her camera.

"That's one hefty-looking camera."

"For our occasion, it's an essential," Mideum said, shaking the camera that she was wearing around her neck. She seemed proud of herself that she had managed to remember to bring the camera with her, and she was just as bright as Juho had expected her to be.

"This is the perfect weather for an interview!"

Despite the wind blowing her hair all over, she paid no attention to it and looked around curiously.

"So, this is the neighborhood our man of the hour lives in. I love the smell of freshly-baked bread," she said as she inhaled deeply.

"Where do you wanna go?" Juho asked.

"Obviously, it's your studio that I'm most interested in, but we'll save the best for later for now. Why don't we walk around the park for a little while?" Mideum said, looking at the park on the other side of the street.

"So, I've never been interviewed like this before. What do I do?" Juho asked as they stepped into the park, and Mideum answered as she fiddled about with her camera, "Just… Whatever you feel like doing?"

"Sounds pretty lax for an interview."

"This is my first time interviewing a fellow author, too. I'm sure we can figure it out as we go, as we always have."

There was no way to predict when an author would come across inspiration. In Mideum's own words, they were "figuring it out" as they went. With that, Juho went where his feet took him. It was a familiar route.

"I usually come here for my morning exercise."

"You exercise? You don't say?"

"AKA, jogging."

"Impressive."

Then, she shared information about her gym membership, which was yet to be put to use.

"My covers feel so much warmer the day I decide to go to the gym."

Juho couldn't agree with her more. The covers felt much warmer before having to get out of bed for morning exercises. The two authors had a casual conversation about their daily lives.

"Oh, there's a fountain show!"

As the two authors walked further into the park, the fountain at the center of the park came into their view, which was spraying water about in various patterns along with colorful beams of light shooting out of it. There were only a handful of people around the fountain.

"Ah, this is nice! Should we sit and watch for a few minutes?"

Then, the two headed toward the stair-like seating area around the fountain. Juho bought a couple of beverages from the vending machine and handed one over to Mideum.

"Do you come here often, too?"

"Yes. There's a botanical garden past the fountain."

As streams of water shot up to the sky, people looked up at them simultaneously. Juho found himself being drawn more to the crowd than to the jets of water shooting out of the fountain, and he realized that Mideum was feeling the same way, except she was more interested in Juho being interested in the crowd.

"I can't tell if we're looking at the fountain or the people around it," Juho murmured.

"Well, we're authors after all. What can you do?"

With that, Mideum picked up her camera, and it wasn't hard to figure out where she was pointing it at.

"Should I make a V with my fingers or something?"

"Nah. Just sit still. Looking good."

"Thanks," Juho answered light-heartedly to the light-hearted compliment, and…

'Click.'

… the dull sound of the camera filled the void between Juho and Mideum.

"How much do you think I can sell this picture for?"

"Who would buy a picture of an average-Joe high school student?"

"I guess that's true," Mideum said as she put her camera down, smacking her lips.

'So much for trust,' Juho thought as he chuckled at Mideum's exaggerated response.

"I read your book."

"The new one?"

"Yes. Like you said, it was a really brief appearance."

Juho was referring to Dr. Dong's friend who sent a letter to him after he had solved a case toward the very end of the book. The book didn't even clarify the character's gender, and Mideum didn't intend on making the character play a leading role in the novel.

"So, what am I like in the novel?"

"I'm not sure yet. I haven't started writing the manuscript. I'm not in the habit of writing out the plot, and I mostly prefer to work with the bare bones. It allows me to have the flexibility to change things down the line. Of course, the downside is that I have to do more research and spend more time on revisions."

"Really?"

There were other authors who approached writing in a similar manner to Mideum. Every author was different in the way they wrote, and there were no rules like those in competitions. If an author wanted to, they had the freedom to kick the ball from the audience.

"You have your own studio, right?"

"Yep. Dae Soo found me one. It's a small office space, but it's actually pretty nice."

As the name, Dae Soo came up in the conversation, Mideum brought up something that she remembered.

"Oh, yeah! Dae Soo's been staying in a hotel room somewhere."

"A hotel room? Where?"

"Don't know. All I know is that it's somewhere in Gangwon-do. Whenever she's struggling to make progress, she stays at a random hotel room."

Dae Soo's purpose for staying at a hotel was quite unusual, and it was as if the goal of her trip was to be in the hotel room.

"Isn't she odd? Once she finds a room, she disappears with her laptop and research data, and then comes back with amazing results. Whenever I read her work, I'm tempted to try writing at a hotel room myself," Mideum said, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. Even though she was still talking about Dae Soo, her eyes were fixed on Juho.

"What about you? Do you do anything weird when you're stuck?"

Then, she blatantly changed the subject. It was obvious that her sole interest was Yun Woo. After a brief time thinking, Juho answered, "Not really. I don't get stuck all that often."

At Juho's answer, a dissatisfied look appeared on Mideum's face. She wasn't afraid to show her feelings.

"I wasn't expecting to write about such an arrogant character. This changes things a little bit."

"That's a little harsh, isn't it?"

"There's really nothing? Even when you're making good progress?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. I just pick up a pen and write."

"Ordinary people don't see ghosts, you know."

"Of course they can, if they're writers."

"Are you saying that I'm not a writer, punk?"

"Well, it puts me in an awkward position if you put it that way."

The ghosts she was referring to were Juho's creative process of interacting with the characters within the novels. In other words, they were the interaction between the young author and writing that had no shape to it yet. If he didn't write, he wouldn't be seeing ghosts in the first place. After Juho explained, Mideum nodded affirmingly, adding, "You know, you're kinda like a ghost at times."

Although it had been a rather unexpected remark, Juho felt uncomfortable internally. He felt pricked in the heart.

"Why is that?"

"A ghost wouldn't be taken aback by seeing other ghosts."

Then, a gust of wind blew all of a sudden, and the streams of water from the fountain splashed sideways.

"You don't get fazed by ghosts."

She checked the picture in her camera.

"I see it in the picture."

"Because it's alive."

"Kind of a letdown, ain't it?"

Her disappointment seemed genuine, and it was only natural. If Juho were a ghost, he wouldn't have to rely on the power of alcohol for the experience Mideum had been yearning desperately for.

"Well, I might be a half ghost."

"What's that mean?"

Since he couldn't tell her that he had come back from the dead, Juho had to answer her ambiguously.

"According to this one famous scientist, there's a high probability that this world is one giant hologram. There are a lot of things about this planet that humanity doesn't know about."

"What, are we going the sci-fi route now?"

As Juho took a sip of the beverage from his can and the liquid flowed into his mouth, he saw tall streams of water shooting up from the fountain.The wind gave them ghost-like appearance, and the drops of water plummeted toward the ground, never to rise back up.

"What the?! Why's that thing stopping already? The announcement said the show would end at 9:00 a.m.!"

The children who had been running around the fountain stood confused, and the crowd who had been watching the fountain show began to leave one by one.

"It stopped," a child said to its father as if it were telling a truth that was known only to it. Soon, they, too, left the fountain and headed toward the playground. Most people responded in such ways when the fountain stopped working. Then, feeling a piercing gaze beside him, Juho said, "It's empty now."

"Yep. Nobody's interested in finding out the truth. Seems like we don't have any detectives around here."

"Maybe they left because they already found out the truth. Also, I think the weather has a lot to do with their behavior."

The wind was strong, and the weather was not suitable for a fountain show. However, the detective writer was yet to be satisfied by what she had found.

"Let's think about it some more."

So, Juho played along willingly.

"Do you think this was a homicide case, then? Maybe the detective already smelled the blood and tragedy of the custodian's death."

At that, Mideum presented an argument as if she had been waiting for him, "The detective might not be all that good at what he does. No curiosity, reasoning skills, or an assistant."

"Well, lucky for the culprit then. They have it easy with an incompetent detective like that."

"No. The culprits always reveal themselves in my novel, so that I make sure they pay for their crimes in the most unfortunate ways."

"Oh, man. I guess the culprit's not so lucky, after all."

Mideum wasn't afraid to use the word 'always,' and insisting on the same ending was a big burden for writers as it could very well be their weakness. After all, there were bad people who lived prosperously while the good lived in poverty. However, Mideum had made her choice to show no mercy to the culprits in her novels, and Juho made no comment about her decision.

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166 You Who Live within a Book 6

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

It wasn't until the fountain grew silent that Juho realized how loud the fountain show had been. It had to be the absence of music.

"What's the first thing you do when you write a detective novel?" Juho asked, since detective novels were a territory he was yet to have explored.

Mideum smiled at his question and said, "For me, it's collecting data. I decide what kind of case I want to write about. From then on, I don't follow a particular order since I have a pretty good idea of the subject, characters and backgrounds by the time I finish researching."

With that, she added, exclaiming as if she had remembered something, "But the culprit is usually what I start with. At least with characters, anyway."

"The culprit, huh."

At that moment, the image of an unfortunate culprit appeared in Juho's mind.

"From their faces, to things like height, weight, habits, favorite foods and places, hobbies, values, relationships with friends as students, and who and how many people they had made love to thus far. I shape the culprits thoroughly because they are the people who are most closely related to the criminal cases. I don't know… It just happens that way."

Judging from the intricate process, Mideum had to have a detailed understanding of the crime that was about to be committed by the culprit. Perhaps, that was why the author was so intentional about making sure that the culprits in her novels paid dearly for their crimes. However, Juho decide not to bring up his conjecture about her thought process.

"That's intriguing."

"Really? I thought I was normal in comparison to someone who comes up with a slew of bizarre languages." Mideum smiled, and pointed at the fountain that was no longer working. Then, she said, "Now, first question… "

"... If you were to write about this case, who would you make the culprit?"

Her eyes were fixated on Juho, indicating that she wasn't looking to miss the slightest of details in his answer. While being on the receiving end of her piercing gaze, Juho thought for a brief time.

'The culprit who had stopped the fountain show. Did they have a bad memory associated with the fountain, or are they using the fountain to their advantage for an unknown reason? In any case, the culprit's capable of committing a crime, and I have to think within that boundary. Maybe there was more than one culprit hiding among the people near the fountain, the custodian…'

A number of faces rushed past Juho's mind.

'Would this person feel no guilt, even if the fountain were to stop working, or is this a person who's still willing to do something foolish at the cost of taking on the burden of sin?'

When the thoughts reached that point in his mind, Juho let out a quiet sigh.

"I don't think it really matters."

"Huh?"

"The culprit. It doesn't matter what kind of person they are. As soon as they commit the crime, they become the culprit."

"Well, yeah. That's what makes the culprit a culprit, right?"

"I don't think I would make anybody the culprit."

"What?"

Mideum furrowed her brow as if confused.

"Because people are much more interesting than a fountain."

Those who benefited or suffered a loss as the fountain stopped working. Those who ignored of accepted the situation. Those who knew or didn't know the culprit responsible. Those who were overlooked or suspected.

"I'd probably go from there and pick a random person to be the culprit."

It was the exact opposite of Mideum, whose creative process started with shaping the culprit. Regardless of their intention or the kind of life they had led in the past, a person was always capable of committing a crime, and authors were people who wrote about people.

Although frowning for a little while, a smile appeared on Mideum's face. Then, picking up her camera, she began to take pictures of Juho and the fountain.

"Maybe detective novels aren't for you."

"You think so?"

"You don't know the joy of being part of the mind game between a detective and the culprit. I feel bad for you."

"Of course I do. I'm just saying that's how I would go about writing a detective novel. Although, I won't know until I actually start writing one."

"What the… Are you planning on writing one?"

"I'm willing to write any genre of novel."

"Great answer."

'Click,' the shutter sounded off, and with that, Juho and Mideum left the fountain. After they had been walking around the park for a while, Mideum grew more curious of Juho's school.

"So, your friends at school really don't know that you're Yun Woo?"

"Of course not, except for my clubmates in the Literature Club."

"Do your books ever come up during Linguistics?"

"Not really. It's not like they're in the textbook, either. However, when I get caught dozing off, the teacher says, 'You can keep sleeping as long as you're Yun Woo,' so I keep sleeping."

Mideum chuckled.

"Yun Woo? In a Literature Club? Did anyone figure out that you were Yun Woo after they read your writing?"

"Nope."

Because Juho didn't write in Yun Woo's style at school, there was no way for anyone to know, and being oblivious to that fact, a puzzled look appeared on Mideum's face.

"You know, I think I want to take a look around your school now."

"You won't be able to get in."

"At least from the outside."

She was insistent.

"Well, it's quite a distance from here. Should I call a cab?"

"Nah. We'll walk there."

With that, she urged Juho to lead the way from behind him, and the two made their way to the school, making petty conversation along the way. Upon arrival, Mideum exclaimed as if impressed by the sight of the school building and the schoolyard. After taking a picture, she added, "I know that it's an ordinary school, but knowing that it's your school makes it anything but."

Then, she stared intently at the school building as if she was thinking about what to write. While Juho waited patiently for her to finish, a centipede crawled under his feet, and after looking around for a while, it hid itself behind the nearest flower bed.

"I'm getting hungry," she said quietly, declaring the end of her serious contemplation. "Don't you have a favorite snack shop?"

"A snack shop?"

"Yeah. Since we're already at a school, we might as well eat like students. This is really taking me back."

With that, Juho took her to the snack shop he and the other club members were regulars of. Fortunately, the shop was open, and Juho went inside with Mideum as he exchanged brief greetings with the owner, with whom he was well acquainted. After taking their seats, they ordered some tteokbokki, soondae, and some fritters.

"My, it's been so long!" Mideum said of eating the tteokbokki being sold in a snack shop in front of a school and reminiscing about her high school days. Juho, too, was well acquainted with that experience.

"It's a nostalgic flavor."

At Juho's words, Mideum said with a snicker, "Pff! OK, grandpa."

"Age is of little importance to memories."

The two focused on eating, and the plates grew emptier at a fast pace. Although it wasn't clear whether it was because of nostalgia or the distance they had walked, Mideum had an impressive appetite. The two would have been able to finish the food, that is if it hadn't been for her phone singing cheerfully in her pocket.

"Oh, it's Dae Soo."

Upon checking the name of the caller, Mideum answered the phone, and a few sentences later, a loud voice burst from her receiver. It wasn't clear what Dae Soo was saying, but judging from the look on Mideum's face, she had to be nagging at her.

"OK! OK! I know why I'm here!"

Mideum emphasized the words as if Dae Soo had doubted her and, as Juho watched her quietly talking on the phone, Mideum handed her phone over to him all of a sudden. Taking it by reflex, Juho brought it up to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Hi! You must be going through a lot, Yun Woo," Dae Soo said comfortingly, out of nowhere.

"No, not really."

"I swear, she thinks I'm a troublemaker or something…" Mideum grumbled from the other side of the table. At that moment, Juho heard some commotion from the receiver, and a familiar sounding voice interjected all of a sudden.

"Juho! You gotta stay mysterious!"

"Was that Seo Joong?"

"Yeah, Uhm's here too."

"Dong Gil, too? I heard he went searching for the hotel you're staying in!"

"Oh, did Mideum tell you? Yeah, that's right. I'm in Gangwon-do, Yangyang-gun. I told them that I was going to stay by the beach, and they decided to follow me here. They were craving sashimi, apparently."

"Aren't you distracted?"

"I got a separate room, so it's fine. We were in the middle of having lunch together."

Juho heard Seo Joong still shouting the same thing in the background.

"What's with Seo Joong?"

"We made a bet," Dae Soo said indifferently.

"... What bet?"

"On whether or not Mideum gets useful information out of you."

These authors knew how to entertain themselves.

"Well, which side are you on, Dae Soo?"

"I bet that she would, as always."

Useful information. Judging from Seo Joong's shouts, he had to have bet otherwise.

"Uhm kept playing hard to get, but he gave in eventually and took my side," Dae Soo added. "So, keep it coming! Tell us what you're thinking!"

It was clear that she was looking to win the bet, and Juho reassured her that he was cooperating to the best of his ability. Then, as if she had something to say, Mideum reached for Juho, for her phone, and as he handed her phone back, he saw that the plates were completely clean.

"Well, I'm about to go to the studio now. Jealous? Tell Seo Joong that there won't be an epilogue. OK! Bye now!"

With that, she hung up the phone without hesitation, checking the time.

"I think it's about time to get a tour of your writing space. The main dish!"

Staring at the empty plates, Juho said, "You mean my room."

"Your mother's home, right?"

"Yes. She's ecstatic about you coming over."

"We should stop by somewhere and get her a gift then! What does she like?"

"That won't be necessary."

Despite Juho's attempts to keep her from getting a gift, Mideum didn't let up, and in the end, she bought a box of fruit on the way.

Juho didn't live very far from the school. Walking past the same buildings in the same places, they let the cars coming from behind them through and had a staring contest with a stray cat on top of a wall, which walked about for a little while until it hid under a car. The two authors didn't say anything to each other as they walked, and a littered, black plastic bag flew about from the wind.

"Hello."

When Juho and Mideum stepped into his house, they were greeted by his mother, who was in the living room, and Mideum handed her the box of fruit with a bright smile, exchanging brief greetings with her.

"I heard you're here to see Juho's room?"

"Yes. You see, I'm in desperate need of help from my friend here."

"Ah! Well, make yourself at home. I'll bring out some tea."

"Thank you!" Mideum exclaimed as if she were talking to her friend's mother, and Juho led her to his room while his mother went into the kitchen.

Pointing at the closed door, he said, "Here we are."

"Finally."

Her heavy breathing indicated that she wasn't afraid to express her excitement.

"I'm getting nervous."

"It's just a room."

"AKA, Yun Woo's writing space."

Then, Mideum grabbed the door knob, and after what seemed like a brief moment of meditation, she turned the knob with a strange shout. The door opened, and a gust of wind blew through her hair.

"Wow…!"

Much like Juho's mother, who had rushed to see where the shout had come from, both Juho and Mideum stared blankly at the room. The red lines on manuscript papers. Letters of various written languages. Stories. Sentences. They were all flying about the room.

As Juho picked up a sheet of paper that had landed before his feet, he realized that he had left the windows in his room open while he had hastily organized the stacks of paper to enhance the room's ambiance before he left the house. The wind blew again.

"This is… dreamlike," Mideum let out in a daze, her eyes still fixed on the room.

"There is writing everywhere," she murmured. "Is this where you sleep? On a bed surrounded by manuscript paper?"

The boxes and stacks of manuscript paper were piled on top of each other, looking like they would topple over at any given minute, standing well over Juho's height. They were all things that had come out of Yun Woo, and the room was filled with nothing but writing. Then, brushing past the camera around her neck, Mideum reached into her pocket, where she had a pen and a notepad.

"If you need 'em, I have bigger sheets."

"No need. I'm just gonna jot down some keywords really quick."

With that, she hastily jotted down the words on her notepad. That was her way of retaining information, and her face was filled with joy.

"He's gonna be an author."

She brought up the character she would be creating.

"A very unsuccessful author."

Juho listened to her quietly.

"An author who's never finished a story in his career, and his room is filled with incomplete manuscripts. Loaded, and likes to live it up..." Mideum said with a smile. "... and arrogant beyond belief."

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167 The Top Author 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Turning down Juho's offer to see her out until they had reached a major street, Mideum left Juho's house in a hurry. When Juho's mother heard Mideum's explanation as to why she had to leave in such a hurry, she let the author go willingly and quietly. Of course, Mideum didn't forget to say goodbye to Juho's mother on her way out, and the shout of joy that echoed in the alleyways sounded undoubtably like her voice. After Mideum left, Juho began to organize his room, picking up the sheets of paper scattered about and organizing them in their proper order. It was a rather time consuming task. As he placed them in a box, he closed the lid. Then, he placed a hefty book on top of each of the stacks of papers, making the stacks towering over him even taller than before. "That's one interesting acquaintance you have," his mother said while handing him the cup of tea that would have belonged to Mideum, who had left much earlier than expected. "Are all writers like that?" "I doubt it." "I saw it on TV earlier today. Is it true that Arthur Conan Doyle had a thing for spiritualism?" "I can't say whether he had a thing for it or not, but he did want the ability to communicate with spirits." "He liked fairies too, apparently." "Well, he did believe a photo that ended up being a hoax." Doyle's lecture on spiritualism had brought him a great deal of ridicule from the masses, and while he even wrote a book inspired by a photo of two young girls surrounded by fairies, his achievements before that were far too impressive for the book to receive the same amount of attention. By the time Juho was on his second cup of tea, his phone began to ring. "Did you get results?" Dae Soo asked as soon as he answered the phone. Realizing that she was asking about the bet, Juho answered with a smile, "Yes." "So? Who won?" Juho heard some commotion in the background. It was Seo Joong's voice. "She just went home to write." "Which means?" "Congratulations!" "Yes! Uhm, hold Ahn for me, will ya?" The victory went to Dae Soo, who had faith that her friend would turn up. --- "Congratulations!" Bo Suk's cheerful exclamation echoed throughout the science room, and the other five club members stared in her direction simultaneously. Then, she went on to pull out and pop the party popper that normally came with the birthday cakes from bakeries. The lone popping noise echoed throughout the room, and the paper debris from the popper fell on top of Seo Kwang's head. "Congratulations, Baron!" Bo Suk exclaimed once again. While Baron managed to keep a straight face for the most part, Juho caught the corner of his mouth twitching. Then, he, too, joined in clapping and celebrating the junior's recent achievement at the competition Baron had taken part in. Baron had finished the art competition in third place, and Juho decided to overlook the irony of the first awardee in the club being an artist. After celebrating boisterously for some time, Bom murmured, "My result is coming out next week. I wonder if I will be able to measure up to Baron." There was a mixture of anxiety and anticipation in her eyes. Then, Sun Hwa patted her back forcefully, saying, "I'm sure you did fine. Don't worry." "I sure hope so. Gosh, I'm nervous." "I'll have the party popper ready!" As if burdened by Bo Suk's words, Bom smiled awkwardly and hunched forward, and Sun Hwa gave her another good pat on the back. Then, Seo Kwang chimed in with his finely decorated head, "I know, right? If only SOMEBODY didn't get disqualified from their award, Bom wouldn't have had to take on so much burden." "Sorry about that, but from what I hear, somebody didn't even get close to winning. Is that right?" "We both came back empty-handed, you know!" Seo Kwang shouted annoyedly. However, instead of listening to him, Juho decided to turn to Bo Suk to ask, "Well, how about you? Have you decided on the contest you want to compete in?" "Uh… not yet," she said timidly. "There's no rush," Juho answered. And after some brief hesitation, Bo Suk opened her mouth to say, "I'm thinking about competing in the same contest you were in last year." "You mean The Youth Literary Essay Contest?" "Yes." Aside from being it being where Juho first met Joon Soo, it was also the very contest where he first competed with Sung Pil. After a brief time thinking, Juho said, "Well, it's not the shabbiest of competitions. Just be mindful of the space. You won't get a whole lot of it." "Can you tell me more?" "There's not much else." "Still." Giving into Bo Suk begging, Juho told her what he remembered, from directions to and a description of the place, to the essay topics and the optional lecture after the contest, adding that it would be worthwhile as long as it was being delivered by Joon Soo Bong. Bo Suk listened to him intently from beginning to end. "So, do you still want to take part in it?" "Yes. I think I can do it." A few days later, Bo Suk competed in the preliminary round and received a text informing her that she had been eliminated. Although she felt depressed for a little while, she regained her hope with the encouragements of the veteran club members. Then, the party poppers went off yet again with the news of Bom receiving first place in her competition. While the entire club was in high spirits, there were no more winners from then on. And just like that, time passed, and the school went on break. Although the club members were sad that they had to part ways, nobody expressed a desire to give up writing. --- "Do you wanna come over to my office?" The bus shook Juho's body while he thought back on Dae Soo's words. He was on his way to Dae Soo's office. Mideum had been busy writing since visiting Juho's house, and Juho was spending his break working on short stories. "Whose office?" Dae Soo chuckled as if the answer was obvious. "My office. Dae Soo Na's." A sudden invitation. "Let's play some board games!" she suggested out of nowhere. "In the office?" "It's my office, so I get to do whatever the heck I want with it." Then, after going on for a good while about her board game collection, she added, "Although, the games need three players." "Huh?" "What I'm saying is that there's going to be another player. You interested?" Then, Juho realized the intention behind her sudden invitation. "A member of our group," she added quietly. She was referring to the group of authors who got together over a meal from time to time. Adding that the day everyone in the group was finally getting together was just around the corner, Dae Soo asked Juho, "If you're gonna meet them, you might as well know who you're meeting, right?" There were only two people in Dae Soo's group who Juho was yet to meet: San Jung Youn and another unknown author. Juho grew curious. "Is it San Jung Youn?" "Hate to disappoint, but it's the other one." "Who?" "Choi." Unfortunately, Juho wasn't very familiar with the name. There were countless authors in Korea, and quite a few of them had the last name Choi. "Would you tell me the person's full name?" "Where's the fun in that?" "Does the person even know that I'm coming?" "You know that I'm all about playing fair. Choi doesn't know that you're coming," Dae Soo said cheerfully. "C'mon, let's play!" she said as if trying to convince a child, and as a current student, Juho couldn't help but give in. In the end, on his way to the bus stop, Juho bought a bag of apples from the same store Mideum had bought the box of fruit. Then, the bus arrived at the stop Dae Soo had told Juho previously. As he got off in a hurry, he saw that Dae Soo had come out to greet him, and they exchanged brief pleasantries. "You didn't have to come out." "I just thought I should come get you while I was out on a walk. What is all this stuff? You didn't have to bring anything!" "It's nothing.' Ignoring Juho's refusal for help, Dae Soo snatched the bag of apples from his hands and led the way with confidence. Juho followed her quietly. They were in a neighborhood he had never visited before. There were a number of corporate buildings with a number of people walking about in formal business attire, and Juho walked as he looked at everything attentively. "Where's your office?" "About fifteen minutes walking." "That's not too far." "Right? Seo Joong, on the other hand, was throwing a hissy fit, complaining about how much he had to walk." "It must have been a hot day." "I'm telling you, you're sharp." It wasn't all that difficult for Juho to imagine, and neither was the look of displeasure on Dong Gil's face. "I can almost see the look on Dong Gil's face." "That guy. He complains and judges Seo Joong every chance he gets, yet he still follows him around. He's an oddball too." "Maybe they influence each other in positive ways? One's too lax while the other is too rigid." "The way I see it, they both need more friends. Not only were they born in the same neighborhood, but they also went to the same schools. Not to mention, they're in the same field. They only have each other as friends." "Isn't that what you call a BFF?" "Do you see them as BFFs?" Juho thought of the two authors who acknowledged each other while being clear about the things they disagreed on. They weren't all that fond of each other's books and they weren't afraid to express themselves regarding that. "Yes, quite so." Then, Dae Soo swung her arm with the bag of apples in her hand, making a big circle. "I think so too." From then on, Juho and Dae Soo conversed light-heartedly until they arrived at her office, which was in a new building. "We're here. Second floor." Following Dae Soo, who was leading the way, Juho went up the glossy stairs. "Is the person in the office?" "Yep, but don't worry. Choi recognizes you as an author. Annnd, ta-da!" Dae Soo said, adding a half-hearted sound effect. As they walked in, a spacious office came into view, filled with books and with various photos on the walls. "This is the conference room, and this is the kitchen, and here, is the studio." After she pointed out, waving her hands about half-heartedly, Juho followed her to the kitchen and saw somebody standing in there. Seeing how his head was tilted slightly back, he had to be looking at the cupboard, which was covered by all sorts of patterns. "Ta-da!" As another half-hearted sound effect sounded from Dae Soo's mouth, the man turned around and locked eyes with Juho. Being a leading figure in romance novels, he was an author known for implementing elements of sci-fi and science into his works. His distinct style was shaped by his unique take on love, and it was growing rather popular. At the sudden encounter, Juho found himself at loss for words. It wasn't clear whether it was his long bangs or his sense of fashion, but the author looked much younger than his age. Before Juho even had time to greet him, his eyes went to the bag of apples in Dae Soo's hand. "Dae Soo, I don't take food from other people, even if you are the one offering." "Whoever said anything about offering? Get your own." "I'm planning on eating my own lunch. I brought some fruit, too." Just as the author had said, there was a lunch box on the table. 'So, he's also part of the group, huh.' The more Juho learned about Dae Soo's group, the more intrigued he got. At the same time, Juho started to realize why there were such few people in the group. "Who is this? He looks way too different to be your sibling. Cousin, maybe?" "Yun Woo." "Yun Woo, who? Did you meet him on the way?" "THE Yun Woo." "..." The office grew silent, and the author's eyes fixated on Juho. After rolling his eyes around for a little while, Juho took the initiative to introduce himself. "Hello. Yun Woo." At the unexpected encounter, the author seemed to be at loss for words as well. For someone who refused to take food from other people, his eyes were rather intense. Then, he took a step closer and said, "So, this is what you look like." Although Juho didn't mind his blatant fascination, Dae Soo slapped the author on his back. Only then, did he introduce himself properly and reached out for a handshake. "Hello, Sang Choi."

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168 The Top Author 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Please, you don't have to be so formal." "Right. Thanks," Sang answered without hesitation, shaking hands with Juho while staring intently to the point of making the young author uncomfortable. "It's an honor to meet you, Yun Woo." "Now, now. We'll save the conversations for the game," Dae Soo interjected, and Sang and Juho sat at the table where she suggested they sit. Then, going through her board game collection stashed in a drawer, she said to Sang, "Choi, you mind cutting up some apples?" Without any trace of displeasure, he took a knife out and turned down Juho volunteering to do it himself. Seeing as how Sang even knew where to find the plates, he seemed rather well acquainted with the task. "Do you come here often?" "Not really. I do cut quite a bit of fruit, instead" "Why is that?" "Because I eat 'em often." Realizing that there wouldn't be much point in asking questions, Juho said no more. After washing the apples in the running water, Sang peeled the apples using simple wrist motions. As the flesh revealed itself, he took the seeds out while cutting the apples in halves, placing them on a plate. With that, he reached for his lunchbox and opened it. It contained apple slices on the top section of the dual-layered container. Although they were slightly discolored, they were as uniform in shape as the ones he had just cut up. "You just said that you don't take food from other people, right?" "Right," Sang said with an apple slice in his mouth. "Why is that?" "Because I can trust my hands." "And you can't trust other people's hands?" "I trust 'em less." Juho opened his mouth after looking down at the container, but Sang beat him to it. "Don't you argue with me by saying things like, 'Those apples you're eating are raised by other people's hands, too.' I don't care one bit. I'll do things as I like. Nothing beats food that I made with my own hands, and that goes for fruit that I cut myself, too. I'm just trying to look out for myself. That's all." He took care of himself with the most trustworthy-pair of hands, and for that reason, he refused to eat any food or fruit that was cooked or brought by another person. Instead, he chose to pack his own meals. He was quite eccentric. After blinking awkwardly for a little while, Juho went on to say what he had been meaning to, "I like your lunchbox." At that, Sang glanced up and down at Juho as if he was observing a strange creature. "I paid thirteen dollars for it." At that moment, Dae Soo returned, smiling as if she had been listening to their conversation. "You can just tell by his name. I mean, c'mon. His alias means 'The Top.' I think I've said enough." "Envy and jealousy tend to follow those who are distinguished. Just be honest with yourself, Dae Soo." "I am. Why do you think I call you 'Choi?'" The reason why she hadn't given Juho Sang's full name was that she didn't want to say it out loud. Then, setting up the board game on the table, she handed out the pawns to each of the two authors. Looking at a blue pawn in front of him, Juho realized that he had never played a board game with someone he had met for the first time. "OK. Now, let's see how Yun Woo's like with board games," Dae Soo said, putting down the dice. Although it was a simple game of who reached the finish line first, the board was filled with all sorts of obstacles that prevented the players from progressing in the game. Those who were less fortunate were bound to end up either having to backtrack or lose their turn. "Are you any good?" "Let's just say that I enjoy playing it. Although, it does get pretty annoying quickly when you play against Choi. Well, I try to be the bigger person and not act on my emotions." After deciding on an order, Dae Soo went first and rolled the dice, rolling a six. Then, the turn went to Juho, and he rolled an eight. Next came Sang's turn. "I'm a lucky guy," he said confidently just before rolling the dice. It almost sounded like a declaration. "I'm sure I'll roll the highest number possible and finish in first place. Just like that." "Well, then. I guess all you gotta do is roll." At Dae Soo's words, Sang raised his hand up high, and Juho's eyes followed his hand by reflex. Then, the dice that were in Sang's palm, juxtaposed with the fluorescent light, rolled onto the board, and just as he had predicted, they came out a ten. "Oh!" Juho let out, impressed. With a proud expression on his face, Sang continued on with the game. From then on, he rolled high numbers repeatedly, and just as he had predicted, he was on the lead. "Juho, let's team up." "There's no use, Dae Soo. He's been blessed by the Goddess of Victory herself." "Well, as long as you don't roll a five." Dae Soo gave him a subtle warning, and looking at his pawn chasing that of Sang's closely, Juho rolled the dice absent-mindedly. As the dice rolled a five, Juho saw something written on the board in red. 'Go back to the starting point.' "Oh, my!" "Haha!" Observing the two contradictory expressions on the two adults' faces, Juho moved his pawn to where he had first started. It was a reset. "You don't seem all that sad," Sang said after laughing for a while. When Juho looked up, his eyes locked with Sang's. The author had been keeping his eyes on Juho throughout the entire game. "You, on the other hand, seem rather happy, Mr. Choi." "You don't have to be so polite. Call me whatever you want." "Well, then. I'll call you Mr. Choi from now on." "Why does everyone leave out my first name?" Although a perplexed look appeared on his face, he moved on and got to the point, "Are you not competitive?" "Oh, yes. Of course, I am. I wanna win." "Then, are you thinking that you can still win at this point?" "Well, I haven't given up just yet, but I am aware that the chances of me winning are pretty slim," Juho said, looking at his pawn, which was back where it had first started. "Well, I'm not out of the game, yet." Then, Sang added emphatically, "You'll be remembered as one of the losers." "According to this game's rules, yes." The game's rules deemed whoever reached the finish line first as the winner, which meant that the rest of the players were deemed the losers. "There's not one game in this world where the slowest wins," Sang said as he caught on to what Juho was about to say. "I doubt it," Juho answered with a smile. "There exists a mister who prefers to carry his own lunchbox because he doesn't trust other people as much as he trusts himself. The way I see it, that kind of games might very well exist." At that, Sang stared at Juho intently and rolled the dice, which rolled the lowest possible number. "I was joking. I don't think I can say something like that. It's just too arrogant, even for my standards. Also, I know I told you that you can call me whatever you want, but mister is one thing you can't call me." "I was joking too, Mr. Choi." From then on, the game continued, and the victory went to Sang. However, he wasn't as lucky as his previous rounds in the new rounds. Shaking her head at Sang Choi, who no longer wanted to play the game, Dae Soo rose from her seat and brought out yet another board game, Jenga. Pouring the wooden pieces out of the rectangular container, Dae Soo skillfully built a tower. "Rock, paper, scissors!" Juho put out paper by reflex, Dae Soo and Sang put out rock. "Seems like you're not so lucky when it comes to rock-paper-scissors." "Well, the main round is always the most important, just like with everything else," Sang answered as he recovered his confidence quickly. Then, after losing to Dae Soo, he ended up as last. Taking the wooden block that he pulled out of the tower, he placed it on top, and after the turn circulated a few times, the tower became significantly less stable. Observing the tower, Juho found the block that would have the least amount of impact on the overall structural integrity of the tower. Then, the three tensed up simultaneously as the tower shook when Juho carefully brought his hand to it. Lowering his torso while keeping his eyes on the blocks above and below his eye level, he pulled the block out carefully. Although, it ended up partially pulling out the blocks around it and causing the entire tower to shake precariously, in the end, Juho managed to keep the tower from collapsing. However, it became even more unstable than it had been. "You're next, Dae Soo." "I know! You don't have to remind me!" While everyone was high strung, Sang said, "My turn will probably never come." "Shut up! I'm gonna do this!" With that, Dae Soo brought her hand to the tower slowly, and Juho held his breath and looked intently at the top of the tower, which shook precariously everytime she moved her hand. As she realized how much the tower was moving, Dae Soo concluded that she had made a bad move. She had chosen a block that was essential in the tower's overall structural integrity, and the tower fought Dae Soo's hand off desperately in order to keep her from taking it, even at the cost of falling apart. However, being an author who wrote grotesque, fast paced novels, she managed to swivel the piece out of the tower successfully. Then, Juho looked at Sang Choi since his prediction turned out to be inaccurate. Yet, he remained calm. "Here goes nothing." As if he had never made the prediction, Sang started choosing a piece carefully. Just like how he had given himself the alias The Top, he was quite generous toward himself. He hadn't given up just yet, and still held on to an ambitious hope that he would be able to keep the whole tower from toppling over. He believed in himself and that his hope would come true. Then, he raised his hand, and the tower toppled over the very moment he pinched a block. "Seems like you lost." He answered while staring at the wooden block in his hand, "I won the boardgame, so I'm satisfied." At that, Dae Soo didn't hesitate to mock him, and after staring intently at her and Juho for a little while, he looked at his own hands and shook them off. From then on, the three repeated the process of building the tower and toppling it over, and after a while, what was once a fierce competition for victory took on a different shape as the three began to focus more on the appearance of the tower, competing to see who could make the most bizarre-looking tower. As Juho fiddled about with the wooden pieces after spending a good amount of time playing, Dae Soo said out of nowhere, "Congratulations on finishing 'Language of God.'" At that, he remembered the last volume of the book, which had been published recently. The grand journey had finally come to an end, and Juho had received countless congratulatory messages from those around him. "Thank you." "How does it feel to have set a new milestone in Korean fantasy novels?" "You're flattering me." "That's not true," Sang interjected in an emphatic tone. "She's not flattering you at all. If anything, it's not enough. After all, you're an author that I've acknowledged." Then, Juho answered while building another tower out of its remnants, "Is that right?" At that, Sang furrowed his brows, and Dae Soo redirected the subject back to its track. "I've noticed that there are quite a few readers who are really bummed about the series coming to an end. Do you have any plans on writing another series?" "I played around with the idea of writing a prequel, but I don't think I've reached a decision." "Prequel as in… the war?" "As well as the mythology." One was able to reach God because of the mythology and the code hidden within it. In that case, who could have come up with the code, let alone the mythology? "You see, I happen to know the person. Although, it would be perfectly fine even if I were to never talk about them." "I would write about them," said Sang in a rather emphatic tone. "How come?" "Because I wanna brag about it." "Brag?" "Yeah. My skill, knowledge, existence, anything." At that, Juho barely managed to keep himself from laughing. Just as Juho had noticed for some time, Sang Choi was an author who loved himself rather dearly, and Dae Soo nodded when she saw the look on Juho's face as if she understood what he was feeling. "It's funny how somebody like that writes romance novels, right?" she said. She was right. Sang's novels were filled with love toward others. The characters sought their identity and significance in those around them. Ironically, the person who was responsible for writing novels like that happened to be full of self-love. Organizing the wooden blocks, Sang said, "There are relationships that are only visible to people like me." "So, you do know that you love yourself a bit too much?" "Of course! I'm constantly comparing myself to other people, and realizing that I'm better." "Isn't that tiring?" Juho asked by reflex. Of which, he didn't deny, saying, "It sure is, but it helps when I write." At that, Dae Soo chuckled. "You know, being an author isn't all that great sometimes, having to peak your head into all sorts of worries and concerns in this world and all." Juho agreed. As people who wrote about dangers, events and conflicts, authors had all the more reason to keep those things close to their lives. "You have to feel what the characters are feeling. There's no way around it," Juho said as he picked up an apple slice that had been set aside because of the board games for himself and handed another to Dae Soo. "You picked the good one. This one's sweet!" Juho agreed as he ate his slice. Then, Sang carefully took an apple slice out of his lunchbox

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169 The Top Author 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

Leaving the kitchen, Juho walked to the office space to look around. It was quite spacious and it felt more like a rest area than an office, maybe because of the board games. Along with a sofa, lamps, paintings, photos, books and manuscripts, there was also a desktop on top of a long desk that was facing the wall. That had to be Dae Soo's workstation. Next to it, was a wall covered by curtains, making it seem like there were windows behind it.

"What's this?"

Dae Soo and Sang's eyes followed the tip of Juho's finger.

"Oh, that."

Then, Sang's expression grew darker, and looking at him, Dae Soo started giggling.

"It's a courtesy for guests. Are you squeamish, at all?"

"Not really."

"Bummer. You're just too young. It's not something I can show someone underage," Dae Soo said playfully, but she was also emphatic. She was assuming that what was hidden behind the curtains might have a negative influence on the young author. Then, setting his curiosity aside, Juho stared at the black cloth between him and the mysterious object.

Sitting down, he asked Dae Soo, "Seems like that's where the inspiration for your book came from, right?"

"I've said this before, but you really are a sharp one."

Along with its bizarre and violent nature, her books were defined by their grotesqueness. At the same time, there was philosophy amid the horror, as well as love and life. Her books were loved by many, and she was often the target of those who criticized her for the violent elements in her books.

"What kind of photo is it?"

"It's a picture of anguish."

The very anguish she had peaked her head into was in the mysterious photo behind the curtains, but Juho didn't insist that she show it to him. He was more interested in Dae Soo's attitude toward the photo.

"Do you just keep the curtains open when guests aren't around?"

"Yep. I've gotten used to it, so I look at it while I'm eating, too."

At that, Juho remembered her most recent book: 'The Finger that Rings the Bell.' The book showcased Dae Soo's distinct writing style, with its gloomy and musty plot that kept its readers on their toes, and its focus was especially provocative.

"Is there a reason for you to prefer to write about things that are over the top?"

"A reason, huh." With that, she poked the fork thoroughly into a crisp apple slice. "Maybe I just have a different idea of what over the top means."

"What does that mean?"

"I write based on real life events. People always talk about how I have a bizarre imagination, but my imagination is far from realistic. If anything, I start by trimming out things that are unconventional, so that it becomes more relatable for the readers. There are those who kill other people for no apparent reason in this world, but that can't happen in novels."

Then, she gave Juho an example that would be the easier to understand, and Juho looked intently at the completely peeled apple slice.

"So, with that out of the way, I probably won't water down my books anytime soon. This world has never been better than at the present time."

At that, Juho asked no more. Instead, he imagined the world she might have seen through the photo behind the curtains. Irrational reality and negative emotions. An image of Dae Soo twisting those things in her writing rushed past Juho's mind.

After he heard Dae Soo's story, Juho grew curious about Sang.

"How about you, Mr. Choi?"

"Me?" he opened his mouth as if he had been waiting for the question. Having a high opinion of himself, he was quite keen on being the center of attention. "I wanted to be God."

His goal was just as lofty as his self-esteem.

"... God."

"Yes, God. Then, I failed."

It was an obvious failure, and Dae Soo stared at him as if he was beyond help.

"Before that, I wanted to be Mozart."

It was a much more realistic goal than being God. However…

"You failed, didn't you?"

"I sure did. He had a talent for music, but I didn't. It was sad."

"Seeing how your following goal was to be God, it seems like you didn't quite learn from the experience."

"No. It's the opposite. I set that goal out of anger, but I still took it seriously. I read tons of books on religion and mythology and even went to the psychics, but there was no gods willing to make me one of their kind."

"And?"

"So, I decided to be a novelist."

Mozart, God, and now, a novelist. After a couple of failures, his dream had finally come true.

"How did you transition from being God to a novelist? Not that the transition between Mozart and God made anymore sense."

"I heard somebody say that authors do something similar to God."

"A-ha!"

Authors were compared with God occasionally, since they created whole new worlds, deciding the fates of the characters living within them and what they will go through in their lives.

"But it wasn't exactly like the god I had in mind," Sang said in a serious tone.

"In what ways?"

"First of all, I needed to put in the work. I'm not an all-capable being, so creating an entirely new world within one week is impossible."

"You have to rest on the seventh day, too."

"I just don't have what it takes."

In the Book of Genesis in the Bible, God had created the world in one week. Sky and land, light, day and night, etc. Having finished the load of work in six days, God rested on the seventh day, looking at his creation, the world, and saying, "Looks great."

"And we, authors, have to do revisions as soon as we finish writing."

"Right. The manuscripts are far from perfect before revisions and edits. It takes forever, too," Juho said, chuckling quietly. "If we were God, we wouldn't be able to write anything so human, don't you think? Books filled with anguish and conflict."

"Well, the sovereign God might be able to, but I doubt he would do as good of a job as I would have."

Juho ate his apple slice while listening to the words filling the void between himself and Sang's arrogance. Though he felt the chunks of apple getting caught in his throat slightly, they were still delicious.

"Now, I'm glad I chose to be a novelist. I can meet just about anyone through writing, so I'm satisfied."

"Speaking of which, there were quite a few references to music and religion in your books. Although, the way they unfolded was quite scientific. So, that's where you got those influences."

"That's right," Sang answered proudly. The love in his books was quite unique, and it started to dawn on Juho why the critics were saying that his books were dynamic and realistic.

"How about you?" Sang Choi asked.

And Juho blinked awkwardly, asking, "What about me?"

"How did you start writing?"

"Oh! That's a good one."

Dae Soo looked at Juho with eyes filled with interest. Although he preferred not to disappoint her, Juho didn't have anything as lofty as Sang, like wanting to be God or Mozart. He was simply…

"I was bored."

"But when did you first start writing, though? You debuted toward the tail end of your middle school years."

"So, that must mean that you've been writing since you were young."

Then, Juho brought up an analogy that rose to the surface of his mind, "It's like a digestive process."

"A digestive process? That's an odd analogy."

Juho agreed. It was a rather strange analogy.

"Well, it is true that one doesn't become a better writer overnight. You know, I think I'm starting to realize how skilled Yun Woo really is."

"You still have a long way to go, Dae Soo."

"What?"

"In that case, Yun Woo's level of skill isn't something that can be achieved within the span of a few years."

At Sang's arrogant remark, Dae Soo's eyes narrowed, and she asked, "Well then, what do you think?"

"I don't really have an answer. This kid is a mystery, much like Yun Woo and how he came about."

"I think you have a ways to go yourself, Choi," Dae Soo scolded him and changed the subject. "Well, tell us more about what happened with Mideum. She wouldn't even talk to me, saying that she's busy working."

"There's not much to it."

Then, Juho told them a brief summary of what had happened during her visit, and the two authors listened intently, immersed in his story.

"Let's see how impressive of a character she comes up with."

Remembering Mideum's behavior in his room, Juho nodded quietly. He looked forward to how the next volume of her book would turn out.

Then, Sang opened his mouth and said, "I'm telling you, that big mouth of hers will be her downfall. She gets excited so easily and she can't control herself. She's always blabbering out loud, too."

"What? She's cute. Besides, she handled herself fine."

"Dae Soo, you can't just let her be. Who knows what kind of trouble she might get herself into?"

Just as Sang had said, Mideum was easily excited and influenced. Looking at Sang, who had talked about Mideum without hesitation, Juho said, "You must be close to her."

"We're part of the same group, after all. She's one of the few authors that I know remotely well," Sang said, as if confessing his limited social life.

Then, Dae Soo chimed in, "It's so easy to convince him to do something, that it's not even funny. All you gotta do is let him bring his own lunch."

"His own lunch?"

"Yep. He'll come out regardless of the distance, as long as I let him bring his own food. That's why I told him to bring his own food when we were meeting at Madame Song's restaurant."

Although it made sense to Juho judging from Sang's behaviors up to that point, it occurred to him that Madame Song might have been unhappy to see a customer bring their own food to her restaurant.

"Well, I eat there now. Gosh, that was ages ago!" Sang added in a hurry.

"You eat at the restaurant, now?"

"Yes. I can trust Madame Song's cooking."

"And you're insisting on carrying your own lunch because you don't trust all the other restaurants?"

"I trust 'em less. Who knows how they cook, or where those hands have been? That goes for the ingredients, too. I can't eat anything like that," he said emphatically.

"Well, I get free food from time to time, so that's always nice. It's super convenient, especially when I'm planning on staying at a hotel."

Dae Soo had a habit of staying in hotel rooms when she experienced writer's block, and she had probably been asking Sang to pack her meals, which explained why they had been communicating regularly. She seemed fond of Sang's cooking, and Sang himself didn't seem to have an issue with cooking for her. The romance and the grotesque. Even though their books were polar opposites in nature.

"You seem like you enjoy cooking for other people, Mr. Choi."

"It's an opportunity to show off my cooking skills. The better the response from those who taste my food, the better I feel," he said proudly. It was a rather simple reason.

Then, Dae Soo whispered to Juho, loud enough for Sang to hear, "He's so simple, isn't he?"

There were all sorts of authors in the world. Hotel rooms, cooking. Thinking of a poet, or regretting repeatedly. There were even authors who lived in the mountains in order to write.

"Oh, I was just about to tell you," Dae Soo said with a big smile. "It's about the outing. We're planning on having everyone come out in celebration of Yun Woo joining us as the new addition to the group."

It was an occasion to which Juho had been looking forward as well, and Dae Soo gave him an update, "So, including Choi, here, I've confirmed with most of the members in the group over text. The only person I'm still waiting for is San Jung."

At that, Sang Choi didn't seem all that surprised.

"She's probably in the mountain somewhere, writing. We can barely get a hold of her. Why don't we just meet on our own?"

"No," Dae Soo said emphatically, and while Sang looked dissatisfied, he didn't try to argue any further. Instead, he explained calmly that finalizing the outing would take significantly longer if they were to wait for San Jung's confirmation.

"She's the hardest person to convince to come out to group outings. Even if we did manage to get a hold of her, she'll come up with all sorts of excuses to stay home."

Despite Sang's pessimistic conjecture, Dae Soo was still wearing the same smile, as if she had a hidden card in mind.

"You seem like you have an idea."

"That I do. An amazing one, at that."

With that, she raised her hand, and at the end of her fingertip, was Juho.

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170 Coming Together 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

Looking straight at Dae Soo's fingertip, Juho asked, "Me?"

"Yes. We have Yun Woo," she said with a mischievous smile, and Sang exclaimed, impressed, "Even a hermit like San Jung would know who Yun Woo was, and as long as she knows who that is, she's bound to consider coming out."

At that, Dae Soo gave Sang an affirmative thumbs-up.

"All we gotta do now is get a hold of her."

"That won't take very long, either."

With that, she walked over to the studio and brought out a laptop, searching for something on the internet. Then, she turned the screen of the laptop around toward Sang and Juho, which was showing the name San Jung Youn.

"San Jung Youn releasing new book."

Juho read the title of the article that had come up just a few hours ago out loud.

"So, I got a hold of her editor earlier today and I was told that she finished writing her book, which means she'll start charging her phone to check the dozens of missed calls, and that's when we get her with the name Yun Woo."

"Our fearless leader! You understand the art of persuasion," Juho said, clapping quietly, but what returned was Dae Soo's sudden warning.

"You might wanna stay on your toes."

"What do you mean?"

"San Jung's new book is coming out, and it just might mark the end of the Yun Woo era."

She was right. San Jung was an incredible author who had built herself a house in the middle of a mountain out of sheer will to write. Taking about a five-year hiatus in between her books, she tended to spend quite a bit of time writing, and as a result, she came out with a quality product. There were a slew of readers who had been waiting desperately for her new book, and Juho was one of them.

"Before you turned up, the position you are in belonged mostly to San Jung."

"Whenever she came out with a book, it would always reach number one, without fail," Sang said, squinting at Juho.

Although their intentions weren't clear, Juho smiled and said, "I'm excited!"

"Really? Did that really just come out of your mouth!? You should be worried!" Dae Soo said, looking both playful and disappointed.

"Of course. This is San Jung Youn's new book we're talking about!"

"I mean, yeah, but I was expecting more passion from your response. That was no fun," she grumbled. At that, Juho quickly changed the subject, and the three conversed for hours on end in Dae Soo's office. After confirming with each other when their next outing would be, they parted ways.

On his way out, Sang asked her to let him know ahead of time if the outing wasn't going to take place at Madame Song's restaurant because he needed time to prepare his food. Dae Soo waved her hand and answered half-heartedly as if he didn't have to remind her.

A few weeks later, Juho received a text from Dae Soo about the place, time, and date of the meeting. When he saw that the meeting was to take place at Madame Song's restaurant, he immediately thought of Sang Choi's face. He wouldn't have to pack his lunch, after all.

After sending a reply, Juho looked away from his phone and redirected his attention to a book he had been reading. It was San Jung's new book, and he had been reading it quite intently. The content was exactly the same as he remembered from his past life, and Juho grew curious about her.

'What is she like as an author?'

---

"It's getting dark out."

It was evening, and Juho made his way toward Madame Song's restaurant as the sun was starting to set. Knowing that there would be quite a few familiar faces at the meeting, he wasn't worried about feeling uncomfortable. And having managed to bring everyone in the group together successfully, Dae Soo was quite ecstatic, reserving the largest room in the restaurant.

Looking up at the dark sky, Juho took the wider path, unlike during his last visit with Hyun Do, when he walked through narrow alleyways. Although Juho would have taken the alleyways without hesitation, he had decided to take a different route as he had been informed about the meeting by Dae Soo ahead of time.

There were waves of cars and people in the street, as well as bicycles that squeezed their way through the sea of people and cars. It was an entirely different route from his previous visit to the restaurant. Perhaps, it was the absence of Hyun Do or vestiges of him, but the peace that he had felt when he had walked with him was nowhere to be found in those busy streets.

Upon arriving at the restaurant, Juho sent Dae Soo a text, informing her that he had arrived. When he checked the time, he realized that he had arrived well before the time they had agreed to meet. Paying no attention to it, Juho walked into the restaurant without hesitation.

'Clink,' the familiar doorbell rang.

As Juho came into the waiting room, there were few other, unrelated people who had arrived ahead of him, each wearing an excited look. Then, Juho stood in front of the mirror in order to make sure that he was dressed properly and walked toward the employee standing by the register, who greeted him with a welcoming smile.

"I have a reservation under the name Dae Soo Na," Juho said to her, and the employee nodded and led him to the reserved room immediately. Walking past the tables and the restrooms, he also walked past the room where he had eaten with Hyun Do, and after going even further into the restaurant than he had ever been to, the reserved room finally appeared. It was the largest room in the restaurant. At that moment, Juho checked his phone as it vibrated. It was a text from Dae Soo, which read, "Already!? Shoot!"

The text gave Juho a bad feeling. 'Is no one else here, yet? But there are eight of us. No way. I'm sure there's going to be at least one person. I know most of them, so it should be fine,' Juho reassured himself as he contemplated going to the restroom. Unfortunately, before he had time to act on his decision, the friendly employee opened the door to the room for him, revealing a figure who had been sitting in the room. Black. It was the first thing that came into Juho's view. She was dressed in black.

"Huh?" Juho let out, baffled. He wasn't expecting to meet someone new that soon, and even as the employee closed the door on her way out, Juho stood awkwardly, facing her. She was dressed in mostly black, from her dark, long, wavy hair, to her eyes and dress shirt. Although it wasn't visible because of the table, she had to be wearing either a black skirt or a pair of black pants, and most likely, her shoes were black as well. Something was telling Juho that she would be dressed like that underneath the table.

"Who are you?" she asked in a thin, sounding voice, and Juho came to his senses upon hearing it.

"Hello, Yun Woo," he introduced himself properly, and the woman's lips parted ever so slightly. Only then, did Juho recognize that she had been wearing another color other than black. Her red lips.

"Whoa," a childlike exclamation broke the tension. She was smiling, with dimples visible on each corner of her mouth.

"Really?" she asked to confirm, and Juho couldn't give her any other answer other than yes.

"If you're still doubtful, would you like to talk to Dae Soo on my phone?"

"You really are him!" she said. Fortunately, she was easily convinced. "I knew it was gonna be worthwhile to get here early."

Juho waited patiently for her to introduce herself, but what came out of her mouth was something entirely different.

"I came down from the mountains because of you."

In the end, Juho had to piece the puzzle together.

"You must be San Jung Youn."

"Ah! Yes. I'm San Jung Youn. You can talk to Dae Soo on my phone too, if you'd like," she said as she took a flip phone out of her pocket, opening it and offering it to Juho. As Juho respectfully declined, she closed the phone back up. Then, the room sank into silence. Without even offering him a seat, she kept staring at him intently without saying anything. Juho felt his face itch for some reason. Her gaze was different from that of Coin's or Hyun Do's, neither burning nor gentle.

It was hard to figure out the right time to speak, and in the end, Juho decided to converse with San Jung while standing in his place. Besides, his legs weren't going to hurt anytime soon.

"I enjoyed your new book quite a bit."

"Thanks."

It was a brief answer, and by the time Juho started to think that she had no intention to converse with him, San Jung opened her mouth and said, "I read your books as well."

Her voice was thin, yet stable. However, it felt like it was coming from a distance and it gave off a mysterious vibe, and because of that…

"I couldn't write for a week after reading them."

… Juho caught her words in a delay.

"You couldn't write?"

"Yeah, because the books were so raw."

Not knowing what to say, he stood quietly. Fortunately, San Jung had something she wanted to say.

"They had lasting impacts. They reminded me of when I first read Mr. Lim, Mr. Kang, or Mrs. Baek's books. Maybe more."

"Thank you for the kind words."

"Of course," she said, acknowledging that her intention was for him to thank her. Then, the room sank back into silence. Before Juho opened his mouth to ask her about her new books, San Jung beat him to it.

"So," she called for him.

"Yes?"

"Are you really eighteen years old?" she asked in a doubtful tone.

Barely suppressing a chuckle, Juho asked back, "Do I look older?"

"Yes. Your writing."

At that, Juho felt pricked in the heart.

"In that case, your books are no exception."

"There's a big difference between a person in their forties writing like they're in their fifties, and teens like they're in their fifties."

She was right, and Juho understood what she was saying. There was such a thing as age in writing. Some authors' writing was more mature than they were themselves, while others' were less or just as mature, and not one was better than the other. Some preferred to write something more mature, and others wanted to write something more youthful.

"There are times when the age of the author dawns on you while you're reading a book. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yeah. Sure."

"I've yet to meet an author with such a drastic age difference between the person and the writing."

Speculation and realization. Then, she asked again, "Are you really eighteen?"

At that, Juho looked through his pocket and asked, "Would you like to see my student ID?"

"Sure."

It was a rather serious answer. Taking the student ID out of his wallet, he handed it over to her, and after looking down at the rectangular card in her hand for a little while, she gave it back to him.

"Fascinating."

"What is?"

"How are you able to write like that?"

"There are all sorts of authors in this world."

"Is that right? Maybe I'm just having trouble understanding because it's just beyond the boundaries of my understanding."

"Maybe."

'Unless you have experience coming back from the dead, there's no way for me to explain this,' Juho murmured internally as he decided to sit, walking toward a chair.

"So..."

As San Jung called for Juho yet again, Juho retracted his step.

"Yes?"

"Can you say something in Scandinavian?"

"... Pardon?"

"Don't you speak the language? You mentioned in 'Language of God: Languages' that you referred to the Scandinavian language when creating different languages in the book."

While it was true that Juho spoke the language, San Jung's request was simply out of place. Juho found himself in an awkward place, where things would be odd whether or not he chose to grant her request.

As he remained silent for a little while, she asked, "Do you not know the language?"

To which, Juho answered, "Sure, I do."

In the end, he decided to grant her request.

"Ski."

"..." San Jung blinked awkwardly, wearing a disappointed look.

"Ski in Scandinavian means thin plank, and it also means the name of the sport we're all familiar with."

"..." The look on her face didn't change one bit, and looking at Juho's face, she said, "You're funny."

From then on, her eyes moved elsewhere, and Juho, too, turned around and saw Sang Choi standing behind him. Juho couldn't be happier to see him. Seeing Juho standing and San Jung sitting in her chair, he asked, "What are you keeping him standing around for?"

"Oh. Right. Have a seat."

Only then, did Juho take a seat opposite of San Jung, and naturally, Sang Choi sat left of Juho.

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171 Coming Together 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Long time no see." "Yep, been a while." "How's life in the mountains?" "It's good." "Oh, did you get to say hello to Madame Song?" "She seemed busy." As if he had been used to San Jung's brief answers, Sang Choi kept asking her questions back to back. They seemed close to each other. "Did you see Yun Woo?" Sang asked as if talking about an indigenous product, and San Jung chuckled quietly. "We talked." In order to steer the subject away from him, Juho spoke up. "Where are the rest?" "They're almost here. Dong Gil and Seo Joong are coming together, and Joon Soo and Geun Woo are doing the same. So are Dae Soo and Mideum." "Everyone's coming in pairs." "Because they live close to each other. We're the only ones who came by ourselves." "Maybe I should come with another person next time." "What does that mean?" Sang asked as he picked up the water cup next to his utensils, and Juho answered ambiguously, checking the time. It was almost time. "Oh, man! What a sight!" "Shut up!" At that, Juho turned around toward the source of the voice. It was Seo Joong and Dong Gil. That day, Seo Joong was wearing fluorescent-colored sweatshirt and pants. "I see that you dressed up a little bit today." "Right?! But SOMEBODY keeps talking about adding fluorescent colors to his list of things he dislikes." "I already did." Then, the two sat between Sang and San Jung. Dong Gil sat next to Sang, and Seo Joong audaciously struck up a conversation with San Jung, who was sitting next him. Dong Gil and Sang also exchanged brief greetings with each other. "How've you been?" Dong Gil had asked San Jung, but the answer came from Sang. "I've been good, as always. I take good care of myself." "I see that you haven't changed one bit." While Dong Gil and Sang conversed, Seo Joong talked to San Jung, swinging his fluorescent sleeve about. "San Jung! Can we PLEASE have you more often??" "Sure. I'm not all that busy anymore, so feel free to come by whenever you want to." "Really!? Wait, but there are snakes there." "There are, indeed." At that, the room grew all the more boisterous, unlike just a moment prior, when the room would sink into silence at every opportunity. Soon, the rest of the group arrived. "Whew! The room's filled to the brim with authors!" "Great to see you all!" Dae Soo said in high spirits, and Mideum, who greeted the others simultaneously with her, looked at San Jung and Yun Woo in turn with sparkling eyes. "Hello." "Been a while, everyone." With that, Joon Soo and Geun Woo arrived. Each of the four authors sat between San Jung and Juho, with Geun Woo sitting to the right of Juho, then Joon Soo, Mideum, San Jung, and Dae Soo, who sat closest to her. The round table was now fully occupied, and everyone exchanged brief greetings with each other. "All right. Should we order, now?" Dae Soo asked, and each ordered their food and drinks accordingly. Soon, plates of hot food filled the once empty table. Having ordered the same dish previously, Juho took a bite from his chicken, which tasted just as pleasant as last time. With the exception of Juho, the eight authors each conversed with one another about different things. "How is it that you look worse and worse every time I see you, Geun Woo?" "That's because I'm writing. I haven't been getting a whole lot of sleep, lately." "What? Were you always that sensitive? Have you been feeling under pressure?" "Of course! I'm not as bold and daring as Dae Soo." Then, Mideum chimed in, taking swigs of her beer, "That's because Geun Woo was born looking depressed. C'mon, Dae Soo. You know better." "Huh. Touché." With that, Geun Woo's naturally gloomy face grew all the gloomier. Then, Joon Soo intervened on Geun Woo's behalf, knocking lightly on the table three times. "Cut him some slack now, will ya? Mideum, you should slow down with your beer. Geun Woo, why the long face when you have a plate full of amazing food before your eyes? That's no way to show respect to the food or the chef." Chewing on his food, Juho looked the other way, to where Sang had just started talking. "In my opinion, your writing is way too rigid. There's not enough love and romance." "You really have an eye for things like that, Sang. I agree. Your writing's just way too cold. Why don't you write something more heart warming? Think outside of your comfort zone every now and then, you know?" "You do realize that my recent book was an experiment, right? Get off your high horses, why don't you, you two?" "All right, look, Uhm Dong. Seo Joong has a point. You do tend to focus on yourself a tad too much. Do you know what I mean?" (TL's Note: Sang seems to call Dong Gil "Uhm Dong", which means 'a cold winter,' fitting for Dong Gil's personality.) "No offense, but I don't think you should be the one to tell me that." "You're still writing that weird list, aren't you? Why don't you focus on me while you're here? Sang Choi's top favorites list. You have my permission to start writing at anytime." "No, thanks. Your books aren't exactly my type, either." "What?" Unfortunately, there was no one in the room who could intervene for those three authors. At that time, Juho looked straight and saw San Jung, who had been quietly enjoying her food, much like him. While she was a woman of few words, she didn't seem all that uncomfortable either. Having ordered a thick, well-done steak, she cut herself a big piece and put it into her mouth, chewing it slowly. Then, taking her wine glass, she chugged the entire thing. At that, Juho remembered Geun Woo telling him that she liked to drink. When he looked at her, a strange feeling came over Juho. It was as if he wouldn't be able to remember anything about her but her dark shadows when he turned back. The steak she had been cutting, her wine, red lips, black clothes. There were only fragments of her that he could remember, and they were nowhere near whole enough to represent her as a person. With that, Juho struck up a conversation with her. "Are they good?" Taking turns to look at her steak and wine, she asked, "Which one?" "Both." "Very." Then, San Jung put another big piece of steak in her mouth, as if trying to prove it to Juho. She chewed slowly, and Juho saw that the redness of her lips had faded ever so slightly, making her appearance fuzzier. "Trade? Would you like a piece?" "I'm OK. There's no plate or anything, so it'd be a hassle." "OK, then." Without offering again, she went back to cutting her steak. That time, she made Juho a question first, "In what environment do you usually write in?" "What environment?" "Environment as in… environment. I write in the mountains. I moved to a completely secluded place just so that I can write. How about you?" "I write in my room, at an ordinary home." "Is it big?" "Kind of small, and it's getting smaller, actually." "Because of what?" "Because of paper." Then, she chugged her wine. Although she had been drinking it quickly, she didn't seem like she was getting drunk. "Can you write where there's a lot of noise?" At her question, Juho shook his head and said, "Not at all. I still have ways to go, so I go through quite a bit of ups and downs. I tense up when I need to focus and I struggle to keep the flow steady. Although, I've gotten better as of late." He had been writing at the Literature Club, and because he had gotten used to writing with other people around, he found himself growing fond of such environments. "What about you? Can you write in noisy environments?" "Not at all. In fact, that's one of the reasons why I write in the mountains." "Is it quiet there?" At that, San Jung shook her head. "It's just as noisy, if not noisier than the city. The only difference is that the noise is not made by people." There were all sorts of lifeforms in the mountains, from trees to insects, animals, and reptiles. It only made sense that there would be that much sound. "That's why I get scared sometimes, because I can't tell where those sounds are coming from or who or what is making them, so I end up giving into my imagination, which is, simply put, not helpful. There are times when I feel like I'm being ostracized by other animals in the mountains, just like how it is in your book. I ask myself: 'What if I'm the only one who can't understand them? What if I'm the only one who's hearing it as a meaningless noise, nothing more than mere wind?'" She had made a reference to 'Language of God' and the animals who had attempted to ostracize humans by using a language that humans wouldn't be able to read or understand. Then, she looked at him intently and said, "I wonder if you'd be able to understand what those sounds are trying to say." "I doubt it." At that moment, the sharp sound of someone inhaling resounded in the room and forced everyone to turn toward its source. It was Mideum, who was wearing a big smile on her face while looking at Juho and San Jung, a sign that she was excited, and her eyes sparkled with curiosity. However, she wasn't the only one interested in their conversation. All of the other authors in the room had been listening to Juho and San Jung's conversation intently. "What is it?" Juho asked. "Oh, nothing. I just noticed that San Jung and Yun Woo were having a conversation." Mideum's voice shook, and it was obvious that she was suppressing her emotions. It was a familiar reaction. "But you're all talking, too." "And you're Yun Woo, and she's San Jung." In the end, she gave into her excitement. "Yun Woo, who has written nothing but steady and upcoming bestsellers, and San Jung, the backbone of Korean literature, are having a conversation! Right before my eyes! Not just about anything, but about each other's books! A summit between Yun Woo and Won Yi Young!" The table shook as she moved enthusiastically, and Dae Soo kept her from standing up to give a passionate speech. Handing her a glass of beer, she said, "Relax. Here's your beloved drink." "Wouldn't that make it worse?" Despite Juho's attempt at keeping Dae Soo from offering Mideum alcohol, the glass went to the excited detective novelist, and the room grew silent the moment she brought the glass up to her mouth, which was the very moment Dae Soo had been waiting for. Then, Dae Soo continued on Mideum's behalf. "It makes sense for Mideum to be that excited. I was really curious myself when it came to the two of you meeting. Think about it. Changes are happening at bookstores that were filled with nothing but Yun Woo at one point. I heard that San Jung's books are climbing up the bestsellers' list at a frightening rate," Dae Soo said playfully about the seemingly serious topic. To which, Juho answered unhurriedly, "Yes, it's true. I enjoyed her new book quite a bit myself. I was moved." "Oh, c'mon now. Don't talk your way out of this." "Whoever said anything about talking their way out?" "Aren't you anxious? You thought you'd be at the top forever, but there's someone chasing after you. Don't you feel threatened?" Dae Soo asked, exaggerating, and just as she had said, Juho's past self would have felt anxious and threatened. Unfortunately, there were simply too many authors in Korea who were more than capable of taking his place at the top, and his insecurity had become a reality upon the release of San Jung's new book, leading him toward the suicide of his writing career. It was in that very direction he had run toward, which, in hindsight, was obviously the path toward his downfall. Juho thought back on the articles he had read in his past life at around the same time. 'San Jung Youn Surpasses Yun Woo. The Power of the Veteran Author.' 'Will San Jung Youn Be a Match for Yun Woo?' 'Before Yun Woo, There Was San Jung.' 'Where's Yun Woo, the Face of Korea? Publishing Company Remains Silent.' 'Who's San Jung Youn? Yun Woo's Reaction?' The titles had been quite provocative and had shaken the young author's heart relentlessly. As Juho remained quiet, Joon Soo intervened, moving his finger three times. At that, Juho chuckled by reflex, and everyone turned their eyes to him. "Threatened by what?" It was an answer that could be interpreted in multiple ways, and that time, Dae Soo remained quiet after Juho's ambiguous answer. At that moment, Mideum, whose reasoning skill was less than impressive, interjected, "Are you saying that San Jung's new book is not a threat to you at all?" "Mideum, you even visited my school. You should know better." "If a single interview was all it took for me to know someone, I wouldn't have gone out of my way to try to write about people." "I'm a rather simple person." Then, Dae Soo stopped Mideum, who was glaring at him fiercely and was about to argue back. Dae Soo was adamant about making sure the authors in the room didn't share more than they ought to. "Then?" "Think about it. It's not like I own the number one or anything. Anyone can have it, and it's kind of misleading to say that one can take it away from another person." Then, another voice interjected, "Astounding." It was Sang Choi, who took the opportunity to share his experience. "When I first reached number one on the bestsellers' list, I would lose sleep every time I got pushed down to a lower rank. I was so disappointed." Disappointment. Juho was well acquainted with the emotion. It had felt like readers were no longer interested in reading his books. The lower the book had fallen in the rankings, the more the book, which had been written over a span of months or years, had felt like chewed up gum that had lost its sweetness. It had taken some time until he realized that what he had felt wasn't the truth, and considering how much pride Sang took in his work, the experience had to have been even more painful for him. "I'd figure that it'd be even worse for you." Sang said something similar to what Juho was thinking. It was as if he saw himself and Juho in a similar light. "Yun Woo has been constantly turning up at the top, from his debut title to his sophomore title, 'Language of God,' and its offshoot volume. He was never threatened by anyone, and the dispute between Yun Woo and Won Yi Young proved that even further. You've always been competing against yourself up to this point, and then, San Jung makes an appearance." Her books were selling at an increasing rate. "Her new book has already passed Yun Woo in the weekly bestsellers' rank, and it's very likely that the same thing will happen in the monthly, or the steady bestsellers' rank," Sang said as if trying to provoke Juho. To which, he answered, "You're probably right. Considering how powerful San Jung's writing is, it's very much possible." At that, Sang's expression grew darker, as if he had tasted something rotten. "No. Something's not right. You should be falling apart. Anxious and on your toes. You should feel threatened, fighting desperately to protect your delusion. You should be making mistakes and bad decisions. THAT is what humans do." At that, Juho simply chuckled.

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172 Coming Together 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

That was what made humans human. Greedy, prone to fits of rage when things didn't go their way, wavering at the smallest inconveniences, failing, and despairing.

"I really love Madame Song's cooking," Juho said as he cut himself a small piece of chicken, putting it into his mouth. At the same time, finding joy in the smaller things was also one of the defining characteristics of a human. "You know, I'm not finding myself getting all that upset. It must be the food."

"What?" Sang asked, and San Jung, who had been observing them quietly, interjected.

"Now that I saw with my own eyes, I realize that it's not just your writing that's mature."

"You're not saying that I look old, are you?"

"No. Not at all."

"Huh," Sang let out, perplexed, and Dong Gil told him, "Choi, forget it. That's how he's able to write like that."

"... I just can't tell if he's carefree or mature."

At the sight of Juho, who was enjoying his meal in peace, Sang Choi couldn't help but chuckle. Then, Dae Soo said to San Jung in an exaggerated tone, "You know what? While we're at it, why don't we just come together to bring Yun Woo down? Put an end to his reign."

"Yeah! Behead the enemy!... So to speak."

"But my book has already left my hands."

Despite the provocative words coming out Dae Soo's and Mideum's mouths, San Jung remained unaffected. She simply stared quietly at Juho, who was sitting opposite of her.

"Hello? I'm right here. I can hear you guys."

Dae Soo and Mideum paid no attention to Juho's playful fuss, and in the end, Joon Soo intervened yet again to calm them down.

"Thanks for all your hard work, Joon Soo," Juho told him, the mediator of the group. Then, he waved his hand in denial three times, wearing his distinctively innocent smile.

"Well, I think I'll get me another beer. Dae Soo, how about you?"

"I'll have a beer too."

"A glass of wine for me."

Dae Soo and San Jung each answered Mideum, and the room returned to its boisterous state. Thinking that it was a rather interesting occasion, Juho sipped quietly on his coke.

---

"So, I heard that Kelley Coin bailed on a special event recently?"

"Well, that's Kelley Coin for ya."

"His temper must have come back with his books."

The authors took turns to talk about Coin's infamous temper.

"You've met him in person, right? How was it?" Geun Woo asked, and after a brief time thinking, Juho answered, "He was just an author who really liked coffee."

"Well, tell us more. We're curious."

"I don't really know, either. We didn't spend all that much time together."

"Oh, c'mon. You were his translator. Surely, you can do better than that?" Seo Joong said, shaking his fluorescent arm.

"We had no clue, even when you were over at my house. How were you able to translate like that? You went beyond the notion that you were fluent in the language. Now, tell us. Something happened between you too, didn't it? Did he give you any eye-opening hints?"

"I wish, but as you know, one can expect only so much from Kelley Coin. I sent him a number of emails while I was translating, but he didn't tell me anything helpful. Even recently, he was clicking his tongue at me, saying that he was hoping to see Yun Woo's career falling apart. That's no way to treat a translator who worked their butt off," Juho complained.

"Guess that's what being a world-renowned author is like," Seo Joong murmured, adding to Juho, "Man, somebody has to come up with a device that can pick people's brains, so I can see what's in this guy's head."

It was a rather frightening remark for Yun Woo, whose identity was still a mystery to most people. Sipping his Coke, Juho avoided eye contact with Seo Joong.

"How's school?" Dae Soo asked. She had been curious about his life as a student and as an author, and the subject shifted to Juho's school life.

"The usual. I'm still a student, so there's not much to look forward to in a day. On the other hand, there's not much to dread about, either."

"I guess that makes sense. Being part of something is always exhausting."

"It's still fun though, thanks to the Literature Club."

"The Literature Club? Are you part of that?"

Aside from those who already knew, the rest were taken aback by the fact that Juho was part of the Literature Club at his school.

"What do you do there? Do they know that you're Yun Woo?" Seo Joong asked, and Juho gave him an affirmative answer. Everyone in the club knew and accepted his identity as Yun Woo.

"Although, aside from those in the club, no one else at school knows."

"So, does that mean you get mentioned during linguistics?" Sang asked.

Obviously, Yun Woo was a go-to name to mention when it came to waking up students who were dozing off during class.

"There were times when we did analysis studies on Yun Woo's identity or studied his works."

Then, the image of Mr. Moon talking enthusiastically about Yun Woo on the podium rushed past Juho's mind. When the teacher would look intentionally in his direction in between remarks, Juho had to fight off the urge to laugh out loud with every bit of strength in his body.

"Well, that sounds fun! I don't think there's going to be another person who will have a school life as interesting as yours."

"Everyone experiences school differently."

"And you, sir, are the conspicuous one in the school. Are you a spy?"

"I didn't sneak out any information."

"Well, considering the aspect of his anonymity, wouldn't he be closer to a superhero?"

"I don't recall saving the world, either."

Then, San Jung asked calmly, "Did anyone in the club catch on that you were Yun Woo by the way you write? Your style is very unique, so I have a feeling that there would be at least one person who'd have figured it out."

For once, that was a question Juho was able to give a definite answer to.

"Not one," he said confidently, and she tilted her head in confusion.

"How are you so certain?"

"Because I write differently from Yun Woo."

"What does that mean?"

"Just as it sounds. I'm not Yun Woo at school."

"Was that name supposed to be separable?"

"Let's say that it's closer to distancing myself from him."

At that, only Joon Soo and Geun Woo understood what Juho meant. Another style. As long as Juho had that, there was no way he would get caught at school. While San Jung was still puzzled, Juho didn't go into detail since the occasion fittingly called for more light-hearted subjects.

"In the club, we do these fun activities or training of sorts, like listing as many random words in our surroundings, writing a story about something absurd, or using our clubmates as characters in a story. We make compilations, too."

"Compilations! I like that idea!" Dae Soo said, and Juho briefly explained the process to her. With eyes filled with interest, she asked, "So, what kind of story did you end up including in the compilation?"

"A short story called 'Grains of Sand.'"

Fitting of their occupation, as the subject shifted to writing, the room came alive all the more.

"It's kind of like a sister version of 'Language of God.' I thought of the plot at the same place, looking at the same scenery. Although, they're very different in nature."

"Ah, I know what you mean."

"There are times when two different ideas hit you all at once. Most writers either choose one over the other, or mix the two accordingly."

Having similar experiences, the other authors chimed in and agreed with Juho.

"I'm a student, so I wrote one at school while I wrote the other at home."

"Man, you really do write a lot," Mideum murmured. Then, taking a big swig off her beer, she said loudly, "So, as you all know, I've been to Yun Woo's writing space in person, and I gotta tell you, it was amazing! This tiny room is filled to the brim with manuscript paper. Of course, you might think that most authors have similar looking studies at their homes, but… how should I put it? It was as if there was writing floating around the room. There were boxes and boxes stacked on top of each other, filled with even more manuscript paper, and Yun Woo writes and sleeps surrounded by those very things. I was kind of envious, but I gotta say, it was pretty overwhelming at the same time."

Although she might have seemed drunk at a glance, she wasn't slurring her words, nor were her eyes shaking. It was her natural tone, even without the effect of alcohol.

"So, that's what Yun Woo's writing space is like, huh? How curious."

"It's just an ordinary room," Juho said, but nobody believed him. However, his room really was nothing to write home about. In the small, boring room, there was a desktop, a bed, a bookshelf, and stacks and stacks of manuscript paper, and there was not a single poster in the room.

"C'mon, Juho. You're a teenager! Live it up a little. When I was a student, I spent all my money collecting all sorts of music records from overseas."

"Don't be silly, now," Dong Gil warned Seo Joong, and with that, each of the authors began to share their memories of their school years.

"I went to an all-girls high school."

"I'm telling you, high school friends will last you a lifetime! We still keep in touch."

Mideum and Dae Soo said in turn.

"Well, we went to the same schools, from elementary to college, so even reminiscing to those times is a hassle."

"You guys seriously have one of the most bizarre relationships."

"It's a curse, if you ask me."

"I kept my social life limited, even as a student," Sang added to Seo Joong and Dong Gil's well-known relationship.

"When I think back on it, I did a lot of dumb and embarrassing things."

"We were all immature at one point."

"But you were always a good student, Joon Soo."

"That's… not entirely true."

With that, Geun Woo and Joon Soo discussed their embarrassing past. Everyone in the room was reminiscing to their respective past, indicating the years that had gone by.

"You know, hearing Juho mention it, I kind of miss it all of a sudden. I used to be part of the Literature Club at my school, too."

"Pff. You were barely there."

"Well, it doesn't change the fact that I still miss it. I really enjoyed it back then, writing about the same topic while surrounded by friends."

Although Dong Gil usually would have scolded Seo Joong, he agreed quietly with the latter half of Seo Joong's statement.

"I wasn't part of the Literature Club because our school didn't have one."

"Yeah, same here. I wasn't part of the Literature Club at my school, either. I didn't actually start writing until college."

"Literature Club, huh? I'm jealous that you get to experience that. Sounds fun."

San Jung was also among the authors who had never been part of a Literature Club, and when she finished speaking, the room sank back into silence. Everyone was having a similar thought and wanting the same thing.

Then, Dae Soo spoke up on everyone else's behalf, "It's never too late."

It was never too late.

"Nine authors. How hard can it be?"

Then, Sang asked in order to clarify, "So, what are we suggesting, here? Are you saying that we should make a club of our own? It's been years since we graduated!"

"No, not like that."

The idea wasn't to go back to the past. Instead, there was something that could be done in the present, and like a leader, Dae Soo said loudly, "Let's say… a club?"

"A club?"

"That's right. All we gotta do is change the name ever so slightly, and we'll find what we're looking for."

"Like how?"

Literature Club, compilation, club, and the word Juho guessed in his mind all came out of Dae Soo's mouth.

"Our club's very own literary magazine."

A literary magazine was a rarity, and not at all popular. However, in the early stages of Korean literature, a number of authors would come together and publish a literary magazine.

"The very first literary magazine came out in… 1919? During the Independence Day Movement?"

"I mean, to think that writers back then would come together to write is really breathtaking."

As the authors thought about the authors through history, whether of novelists or of the poets of Chungrokpa, interest began to stir in each of their hearts.

(TL's Note: Chungrokpa was a group of three poets in Korea in the 1940s who contributed to the preservation of Korean poems before and after the nation's liberation from the Japanese occupation.)

"Well, the literary magazines from back then were, needless to say, legendary."

With that, the eyes of all the other authors sparkled with interest as well, captivated by the idea.

"You're right, Dae Soo!" Mideum let out, excited, and Dong Gil, who was always level headed in every situation, agreed.

"I don't see why not. There are nine authors here, and I'm sure we each know at least one printing factory. Besides, more and more people have been publishing their books on their own, and a lot of amateur clubs publish their own magazines. If we keep things small and manageable, there's nothing to lose."

Then, Juho looked around at the authors who had come together, each distinct from one another. If each author were to contribute with one piece of writing, they would be able to put together a literary magazine that was both artistic and appealing to the masses.

"That sounds fun," Sang murmured. The idea was starting to develop more and more, reaching the point of actually being carried out.

At that moment, Geun Woo added in a hurry, "Hold on! I've been working on something!"

"Is there a deadline?"

"No… It's not like that."

"Then, what's there to worry about? Think of it as a breather."

Determined to carry out the idea, Dae Soo shot down Geun Woo's concern, and as Juho admired her proactivity, they locked eyes with each other. A mischievous smile appeared on Dae Soo's face.

"Mr. Woo. How much longer will you let San Jung chase you around?"

After that, she turned her head without even giving him time to respond.

"While we're at it, let's all compete on whose writing stands out the most. I know I shouldn't be the one to talk here, but we are all decent writers here, right?"

"Compete? There is no such a thing in art," Dong Gil said, alone and proudly, but he was soon buried by Mideum's exclamation.

"You're on! I won't go easy on anybody. I'd be SO happy if my writing turns up at the top, above everyone else's here. After all, we're greedy by nature."

"You can discuss being at the top when I'm not present," Sang said.

To which, Seo Joong argued, "No, that's not true. Even Dong Gil struggled to beat me at one point in the past."

"I think I just heard something that I can't ignore."

"C'mon, buddy. I know what happened."

"I proved, a long time ago, that you still have a ways to go until you reach my level," Dong Gil said, contradicting his proud statement from earlier. Competition was bound to exist in any field of expertise, and Geun Woo grew pale, begging Joon Soo to stop them.

"Joon Soo, you gotta do something!"

"I don't know. I'm actually kind of interested, myself. Maybe you should take the opportunity to prove yourself, Geun Woo."

"What would I do among all of these authors? From San Jung to Yun Woo? And there's you, who would never fall short in artistic value."

"C'mon, now. You have a style that's unique to yourself."

"... Joon Soo!"

Just like that, the opposing party was silenced, and amid the commotion, Juho thought, 'How did we get here from talking about the Literature Club?'

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173 Coming Together 4

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "All right! That settles it then. We're doing this!" "Woo-hoo!" Mideum exclaimed cheerfully at Dae Soo's decision, raising her glass. Then, Seo Joong chimed in, "Now, let's set the tone, shall we? Will there be given topics for us to write about, or is it gonna be free-topic?" "Yeah! The whole reason behind starting this was to replicate what it was like to be part of a Literature Club, wasn't it?" I think it would be fun if we all write about one shared topic. What do you think, Dae Soo?" At that, Dae Soo contemplated for a little while, but it wasn't long before she had made up her mind. "OK. We can only write about one topic at any given time. Let's keep it special. Instead, why don't we each decide on what genre we want to write in? Essays, novels, poems, reviews, translation, anything." "Sounds great!" "OK, then. Now, the question is: 'What are we all gonna write about?' Any suggestions? Anything you've been wanting to write about?" A shared topic. Everyone in the room was immersed in their thoughts, trying to figure out what would be the most appropriate topic for the club. At that moment, Geun Woo, who had eventually joined in on the fun, raised his hand. "What about a certain object? Like a violin, for example. We practice writing about objects with Mrs. Baek from time to time." "That doesn't sound half bad," Dae Soo nodded with a lukewarm expression. Although it wasn't a bad idea, it wasn't very captivating. Then, Joon Soo chimed in, "What about a certain time period?" "That's not bad, either," she said with a similar expression on her face, and without saying anything, San Jung sipped her wine quietly. Then, Sang Choi said, "I guess we have nothing else to write about except love." "That gives you way too much advantage! C'mon, now, you hopeless romantic. Get with the program." "Yeah! If that were the case, I'd suggest we all write about an unsolved, mysterious case." Sang furrowed his forehead at Mideum's adamant opposition. "But love is universal and an essential component of art." "You do have a point there, but as long as you're part of the club, it wouldn't be fair to everyone else to have to write about that topic." "Yeah! You took the the words right out of my mouth, Dong Gil." Although Sang still looked displeased, he retracted his suggestion. From then on, a number of other opinions came up, but none of them were convincing enough to move the authors. As everyone listened to each other's opinions while immersed in thought, Dae Soo opened her mouth and said, "Death." Then, the authors responded keenly to the provocative word. "Death." "Death, huh." "Also another essential component in art," Sang said, murmuring, "along with love." "It won't give anybody an advantage." "And you can think of all sorts of stories related to it." "Captivating." "I think that's the most charming one, so far." Everyone nodded. "Sounds good," San Jung said her first affirmative answer. Death was, inarguably, one of the most common themes in art, and countless authors had written about it. On top of that, none of the authors in the room were experts on the subject of death, making it the fairest suggestion so far. However... "Death, huh." … with the exception of Juho, it was highly unlikely that any of the authors had experienced death themselves. And it wasn't something that he can share openly about, either. "I'm on board," he said. And Dae Soo said, wearing an excited look on her face as if quite satisfied with how things were turning out, "I sense something really special is about to happen." "This almost makes me wish that the club was bigger. We're not gonna publish them, are we?" "Let's play it safe, for now. Once we try to make a profit out of it, that's when we lose our creative control." With that, Dae Soo and Dong Gil began to discuss matters that were more realistic, and Juho took a sip of his Coke. Some authors were already starting to think about how to go about writing their segment in the magazine, and just as Juho was about to join them, he locked eyes with San Jung. "Novel?" Juho shrugged. "Not sure yet." "San Jung, remember that he even has translation at his disposal," Seo Joong interjected, holding a beer mug in his hand. "He can probably write things like reviews or essays just as well," Dong Gil added, and Juho didn't try to deny it. After all, they were both accurate. Authors tended to be sharp and perceptive. Juho had a number of creative tools at his disposal, from translation to essays and reviews, and he was more than capable of utilizing those tools to his advantage because of his experience at the Literature Club up to that point. "And I'm guessing that you're sticking with novels, San Jung?" "Yep. I like novels the best." She was someone who went as far as relocating to the mountains for the sake of writing her novel, so her affection and obsession toward novels was only natural. "I think I'm drawn to novels as well." From the moment 'death' had been decided as the shared topic, Juho had felt strongly inclined to write a novel. Writing for a magazine with such established authors was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and just like San Jung, Juho was also drawn to writing novels. Then, Seo Joong murmured, "Maybe I should go with a novel, too." "I've been think about the same thing for a while now." "Me, too." Juho smiled and chuckled at the competitive remarks from the authors, and of course, he, himself, didn't intend on backing out, either. Then, Joon Soo asked after having been thinking for some time, "Are we limited to writing one piece each?" "No, not at all." "Then, I'll write a novel AND a poem." "I'm perfectly happy with writing just one novel." Joon Soo and Geun Woo seemed like they had made up their minds for the most part, and Mideum, too, raised her hand to say, "I'm going with a novel!" "I think I'm leaning toward a novel, too." With that, Juho counted how many authors had chosen novels as their genre. There would be nine novels and a poem, which unintentionally shifted the focus of the magazine to original novels. "So, are we all writing novels then?" "That's not a bad thing though, don't you think?" Dae Soo said, and Juho nodded affirmingly. There was nothing bad about it. Besides, all of the pieces would be on the subject of death, so every single piece would be worth collecting. "You seem confident," Joon Soo asked quietly, and just like before, Juho didn't deny it. "Yes. You see, I happen to be acquainted with death, myself." "What?" "Aren't you the youngest one here?" "Choi, there is no particular order in which people go." "What are you saying? You sounded a little edgy there." "You're gravely mistaken." Ignoring the light-hearted bickering between Dong Gil and Sang, Dae Soo looked at Juho. "Now that I think about it, you were pretty explicit about the mother's death in 'Sound of Wailing,' right? It was brief, but it had weight." "Thank you." "Wait, does that mean this topic gives Yun Woo the upper hand?" Dae Soo asked, narrowing her eyes, and Mideum waved her hand in denial. "Nah, that can't be right. You and I have both written a slew of death scenes up to this point, and so has everyone else here." "I know that. It's just that I don't see Yun Woo as the type to be confident for no apparent reason." That was her perception of Yun Woo. As Dae Soo expressed her light-hearted concern, Juho waved his hand in denial, saying, "I'm just showing off, so, please, you don't have to have your guard up." "OK, then. But keep in mind that I got my eyes on you," she said emphatically. To which, Dong Gil added with a chuckle, "Nobody's stupid enough around here to let their guard down when they're competing against Yun Woo. Except, maybe Choi." "I never let my guard down. I'm just confident." "See?" Then, taking a swig off her beer, Mideum said, "Speaking of which, Yun Woo should be on his toes, too. We have San Jung, and then there's me… anyway, there are so many authors here!" "That's true. Mr. Bong here is a magician when it comes to figures of speech," Seo Joong took the opportunity to chime in, and Joon Soo returned the compliment, "I'm nowhere near your level, Seo Joong." "Unlike Joon Soo, my buddy here specializes in writing rigid sentences." "You mean clean-cut and calculated?" "Geun Woo writes stories that are just as depressing as he looks." "Please don't say that out loud," Geun Woo complained, but it was swiftly ignored. "And then there's Choi. Yes, he's not all that pleasant of a person, but his writing is anything but. Gentle, and lovely. And don't even get me started with Dae Soo and her frightening stories. Mideum might not be the best with reasoning, but you are good at keeping your readers on their toes. San Jung. Well, what more can I say? She's the backbone of this country's literature." "Yep." Unlike all the other authors who had looked perplexed by what had sounded like either a compliment or an insult, San Jung acknowledged her place with confidence. When it came to writing, she was a person who was neither yielding, nor modest. Then, lastly, Seo Joong moved on to Yun Woo. "Last, but not least, our young, genius novelist, himself, who's more than adequate, to say the least." Juho felt that the word 'adequate' was far from describing him accurately, thinking that he still had a ways to go as an author. With that, he raised both of his hands and said, "Go easy on me now." Then, Mideum slammed her beer mug on the table, shouting, "You know, my heart starts beating like crazy when I think about how these authors will portray death." "I've been meaning to ask, but is she drunk?" "No way. A few beers isn't enough to get her drunk." "I'm telling you, I can never tell." Sang and Seo Joon said in turn, and finishing her last bit of beer, Mideum ordered herself another glass. She was quite the drinker and seemed like she was capable of drinking three times as much as everyone else in the room. As Juho stared at her intently, Mideum asked as if misinterpreting his gaze, "Would you like some?" "No, thank you." "C'mon, now. Teenagers tend to want to try everything at least once out of curiosity, you know?" At that, he realized that there was no way to talk himself out of the situation. "So, would you like some?" Mideum said, shaking the new cup that had just arrived at the table with the beer. At that moment, Dae Soo gave her a slap on the back, "What do you think you're doing!?" At the same time, Juho saw Sang lowering his hand, as if he had been just about to offer Juho some alcohol. "Yun Woo. You make sure to learn your drinking etiquette from no one other than your parents." "Of course. I didn't even feel like drinking, anyway." "Atta boy!" With that, Juho took a drink off his Coke as if to prove himself to Dae Soo, and Dong Gil and Joon Soo smiled with satisfaction. The club seemed to be made up of a healthy balance of adults who were both good and bad influences. "How should we go about writing our epilogues? Should we write something about the first issue?" "We can also publish one piece at a time." "Hm. What should we do?" Although the plans of publishing their own magazine were still in their early stages, the faces of the authors discussing them couldn't be happier. Planning for an anticipated future always brought about joy. "Oh! We're gonna need a name. What should we name our magazine? Death? Like our topic?" "That would be the simplest and the most straightforward." "But isn't that kind of… ominous for the name of our first issue?" "Yeah. Something tells me that our first issue will be our last." "There have been plenty of famous literary magazines like that, though." "Well, we're just starting off. We shouldn't be thinking about the end already." As Juho listened quietly, he brought up a thought that rushed past his mind, "'The Beginning and the End.'" "What?" "'The Beginning and the End.' How's that for a title? After all, there's nothing in this world that says death marks the end of our lives." "Not bad…! Not bad at all!" Mideum agreed enthusiastically, and Sang Jung nodded quietly as well, looking like she had lost interest in the matter. After contemplating for some time, Dae Soo said, "OK. We'll decide on 'The Beginning and the End' as our working title for now. Once we come up with a better title, we'll change it then." At that moment, the door opened, and everyone looked toward it. It was Madame Song, who had come by to greet her regulars while things were slowing down in the restaurant. And everyone greeted her welcomingly. "Madame Song! The food is amazing as usual!" Needless to say, the person who was the most excited to see her was Mideum, and Madame Song expressed her gratitude by smiling like a bear cub. "You guys are running low on drinks, right? I'll go bring some more." "You're seriously the best, Madame Song." She greeted the authors one by one, and when she saw San Jung, a cheerful expression appeared on her face. "Oh, my! It's been ages! How's life in the mountains?" "Good. I love your cooking still." "While you're all here, eat up. You guys are writers, so you need all the energy you can get." "Thank you!" Then, as San Jung dropped her head slightly, Madame Song turned her attention to Juho. "Juho! It's been a while since I've seen you too! I love that you're getting along with all these authors. How are they treating you? If any one of these people pick on you, you let me know." "C'mon, Madame Song. You don't really think we'll do something like that, do you?" Mideum asked proudly, as if completely forgetting she had been about to offer Juho a drink.

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174 Coming Together 5

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Thank you, Madame Song!" "We'll come again soon!" The authors took turns thanking Madame Song on their way out, and as Juho bowed to her, she said, "I can't remember the last time I had this many authors at my restaurant at once! It was so wonderful. Feel free to come whenever you'd like!" Then, before going their separate ways, the nine authors conversed a little longer in front of the restaurant. "Well, we should probably get going." "Aw, do we have to? Can we go to karaoke or something?" "Hello? We have an underage boy and a mountain hermit in the group! Besides, we're planning on meeting again." Juho heard Dae Soo and Mideum's voices. Mideum seemed to be feeling dissatisfied that the only thing they did collectively as a group was have a meal, and truth be told, it was nearly impossible to have everyone come out to the meeting. As someone who lived in the mountains, San Jung seemed rather sleepy, yawning quietly. Seeing that, Juho asked, "You're not going back to the mountains, are you? Where are you staying?" "A hotel," she answered briefly and, looking around, added, "You know, the city is just as bright as I remember it when I used to live in one. The sun has probably set in the mountains a long time ago." "It's your bedtime, isn't it?" "Yep. I would have gone to bed a while back, by now," San Jung said, yawning yet again. Her lips weren't as red as when Juho first saw her, and as he stared attentively at her fuzzy appearance, she asked a question out of nowhere, which Juho answered in a delay. "You said you were confident, right?" "Pardon?" "Earlier, in the restaurant." As Juho remained quiet, she added, "So am I." She was calm. If there was such a thing as win or lose in art, which had no rules or points to keep track of, it would be determined by emotional scale: a measurement of how much an author moved their readers with their writing. While abstract and subjective in nature, there were no arguments between opposing opinions as people were either moved, impressed and captivated, or uninterested or bored. There was no misjudgment, either, aside from pure honesty. Amid the strange experience of seeing San Jung in the bright city lights, Juho asked himself, 'Would I be moved by her writing, and would mine move her? What kind of piece will she end up writing, and what will I?' As Juho stared intently at San Jung while surrounded by complicated thoughts, Mideum interjected, excited, "I'm here, too!" Then, the sound of frivolous laughter resounded. It was Seo Joong, who had a toothpick in his mouth. His fluorescent-colored sweatshirt and pants shone all the brighter under the street lights. Perhaps, it was because Dong Gil was standing next to him, relatively better dressed. "Yeah! We're still here. Yun Woo isn't the only author around here, you know." They were some of the most prominent authors in the country, and Juho felt that writing about a shared topic with them would be a fun experience. At that moment, a voice said, "'Scuse me." When he looked toward the source of the voice, he saw two women locking arms with each other. Then, one of them asked San Jung cautiously, "Are you San Jung Youn by any chance?" "Yes, I am." "Oh, my gosh! We're such big fans!" With that, the two covered their mouths with their hands, unafraid to show that they were her fans. Then, riding the wave of confidence after recognizing San Jung, they asked Dae Soo, who was standing next to her, "And you must be Dae Soo Na, right?" As Dae Soo nodded affirmingly, the two stamped their feet with excitement, and while exclaiming repeatedly, they looked at all the other authors around them. Mideum, Dong Gil, Seo Joong, and Sang Choi. They seemed to know them all. From the moment the two women recognized San Jung, Juho took a step back and hid behind Joon Soo and Geun Woo, joining unintendedly the group of less popular authors. While watching his fellow authors giving autographs to their fans, Geun Woo said, "You know Joon Soo, I'd love to be part of that group." "I'm sure your time will come," Joon Soo said, patting Geun Woo's back with a gentle smile. "Joon Soo's right, Geun Woo. Enjoy your peaceful life while you still have it." "No offense, but I don't find those words comforting at all," Geun Woo said, rejecting Juho's attempt to encourage him. What had started with two authors had now evolved into a handful of authors and the addition of a spontaneous photo session. Resolving not to go near them, Juho distanced himself from the group, and catching on to what Juho was doing, Joon Soo suggested, "Should we go on ahead?" "But we didn't even get to say goodbye to everyone." "It's fine. Everyone tends to do their own thing at the end of every meeting. Let's go." At that, Geun Woo agreed, and after sending a text on his phone, Joon Soo left without hesitation. "Let me give you a ride. I'll bring my car in a little bit, so wait here," Joon Soo said as they came out of an alleyway. Although Juho respectfully declined, saying that he could catch the last bus back home, Joon Soon was adamant about not sending an underaged person home alone. "I'll get an earful from Mrs. Baek, otherwise. You saw that I didn't drink earlier, right? I'm a designated driver, so you can rest assured." Because it wouldn't have been proper to decline repeatedly, Juho willingly took up Joon Soo's offer. With that, Joon Soo headed for a parking lot nearby, and Juho and Geun Woo waited for him under an orange streetlight. Although they weren't all that far away from the restaurant, their surroundings were rather quiet, making their loud, boisterous day feel distant. Then, as if feeling the same way, Geun Woo struck up a conversation with Juho, "Have you been working on anything, lately?" "I'm always working on something." "So, nothing big, huh? I suppose that means you'll get started on your piece for 'The Beginning and the End' right away?" "Most likely. I'll probably start mapping things out as soon as I get home." At that, Geun Woo gave him a small nod and chuckled as if dumbfounded. "Wow. I wouldn't have thought in my dreams that I would end up writing for a magazine with Yun Woo." Then, a small shadow of a moth rushed over the orange light. "You make it sound like it's a new development. How many meals have we had together, now?" "Seriously. I don't know why it feels so surreal. Maybe it's the alcohol." "Are you drunk?" "No," Geun Woo said emphatically. Although he didn't look drunk, his ears were glowing bright red. "You know, I've been working on something." "Yes, you brought it up at the restaurant." "Ask me what I've been working on." Juho decided to play along and asked, "So, what have you been working on?" "Not telling you." At that moment, it occurred to Juho all of a sudden that Geun Woo was actually quite drunk. He had to be the type who grew gradually more inebriated over time. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding," Geun Woo added, laughing. "I've been working on a story about a guy with bushy hair." At the words 'bushy hair,' a face rushed past Juho's mind: the author who had flushed his flash drive down the toilet. Having been an old pupil of Yun Seo, he was also a no-name author who had left the literary world, and Geun Woo had been one of the witnesses of the events that day. "I've been getting hardly any sleep lately because I've been so occupied with writing." "Don't you not sleep when you're writing?" "No, I sleep like a baby." "Is there something special about this piece, then?" While Juho wondered what was keeping Geun Woo up at night, Geun Woo said, "You," with his eyes were fixed on Juho. "Me?" "Yes, you. A coincidence. It tends to keep people on their toes." The orange streetlight made Geun Woo's bright red ears even brighter, and Juho was also probably red in Geun Woo's eyes. "I was influenced by you. I never write this desperately. I've always written just enough to not grow attached to my work." At that, Juho remembered his first encounter with Geun Woo. He had been throwing away his manuscript. "You mean you don't write until you regret doing it?" So, he had been regretting. The red-eared author chuckled and said, "In other words, not desperately. Regret follows you around no matter what you do to avoid it." The moth above their heads flew about busily, and its shadow flapped about. "I've been writing about you," Geun Woo said. "And so had Joon Soo. When I read it, it was so unlike him. Rugged and incoherent. That's why it's sitting in his studio somewhere, most likely never to be published." At that moment, Juho remembered the stacks of manuscript paper in his room. What Joon Soo had written had to be of similar kind. "What I've been working on is no different, and you know how things turn out when you're unstable. It just doesn't serve its purpose as well because it contains all the traces of you being swayed by those around you." "That's why most authors tend to hide pieces like that in their rooms." "Well, I'm planning on publishing mine." Juho was caught off guard by Geun Woo's answer. The inebriated author was planning on publishing his crude and unstable writing, and there were rare occasions when one's apprehension moved the hearts of those around them. Although, there was no way to know how the piece would actually turn out until it actually came out. "You'll regret it." The result seemed obvious to Juho. "I'm not afraid of regrets." "I like the sound of that." "Actually, I am… a little." "You would've sounded so much cooler if you hadn't said that." "Yeah, I'm regretting it as we speak." That was the kind of person Geun Woo was, and apprehension portrayed by an author like him was a treat worth looking forward to. After all, he tended to excel in portraying such emotions. "There's Joon Soo." A light shone in the distance, and riding in Joon Soo's car, Juho arrived home safely, going straight to bed as he returned well into the night. Regrets, death. Those two words lingered in Juho's head, and in the end, it wasn't until after he sat up and made a new addition to the towering stacks of paper that he went to sleep. --- "The weather's nice today," Juho said, looking up at the blue sky, and when he looked down, a river came into view. The entire world was blue, shining mysteriously and full of life. "Let's go for a ride." "Want some ice cream?" "All right. There's a good spot over there. Oh, did you hear?" There were quite a few people at the Han River. Those who were walking, eating, riding their bicycles or fishing. Juho had been sitting on the lawn, looking at the people around him. Because it was an open space, it was quite suitable for people watching. Of course, it was only fair that he was just as exposed as everyone else. At that moment, an infant holding its mother's hand walked past Juho. Looking like it was still learning to walk, the child moved his legs sluggishly, yet precariously, and the mother seemed like she was on her toes, worried about her child falling over. The people who walked past them smiled, and some even cheered for them. Then, a dog walked past them, with its tongue sticking out and with the corners of its mouth turned up as if wearing a big smile. With its dark, glassy eyes, the dog stared at the baby and its mother in the most cheerful and purest way. Nobody would be able to tell whether or not the dog was rooting for the infant, but there was no doubt that it was an adorable sight. Then, a thought popped up in Juho's mind. 'Even things that adorable wouldn't be able to avoid death, whether it was a dog or a person. As long as there is a beginning, the end is inevitable.' For an unknown reason, he felt like he was the only person around who was immersed in dark thoughts. His state of mind was quite distant from his bright and cheerful surroundings. If only he wasn't an author writing about death, he would have been able to root for the infant in peace. 'The Beginning and the End.' That was the name of a literary magazine that Juho and his fellow authors had agreed to publish as a collective effort. According to Dae Soo, every author involved in writing it had already started writing after finishing mapping out the plot for their respective pieces. Some wrote in hotel rooms, while others in offices or in the mountains. Contrary to them, Juho hadn't even started the process of mapping out the plot, and the reason wasn't necessarily that he was complacent or overly tense. In fact, Juho had been approaching his piece with the same mindset with which he had always written. He stared at the ever-flowing river, going on endlessly and without stopping. There had to be endless tales submerged within it, including his past. At that moment, Juho felt like he would be able to pull out the story he'd been looking for out of the water, but was soon struck by the sudden realization that he would never be able to get back out. And it was for that very reason that he chose not to go into the water. After all, there was a piece that needed to be written, and even more that he wanted to write. "Besides, I'm not missing all that much." There was no need to map out a plot. And just like that, Juho placed his hands on his laptop.

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175 A Short Story

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl In a crowded place, a student staring intently into his laptop was more than enough to arouse the curiosity of the pedestrians. However, just as how modern people tended to be, their curiosities were fickle. They were occupied with protecting their babies, walking their dogs, fishing, riding their bicycles, and passing out flyers. And for those reasons, Juho decided to pay no attention to his surroundings. The reason why Juho had bought his laptop had been to write while looking at the serene river. With the blank page on the screen, Juho concentrated all the more. He was about to write a short story about death, which he had experienced firsthand, and which everyone was bound to experience eventually. In other words, it was a subject everybody would find relatable. There was a reason why love and death were such popular subjects among artists. While people were terrified of death, they were swayed by love. The river flowed serenely, but despite its calming appearance, one couldn't breath in it, leaving them helpless. Then, a thought rose to the surface of Juho's mind: 'I want to write a piece like that.' With that, he began to type away slowly on his laptop. The reflection of a man looking at the screen of Juho's laptop rushed past the screen. Fortunately, the young author didn't have to worry about his story leaking out to the public because it was going to be written in a different language. In fact, Juho intended on writing the short story in a language only he could understand. Having experienced death once, Juho wondered about what kind of composition he would be able to come up with, and he had no clue as to what kind of ideas would come out of his fingertips. Much like death, there was no way to know what was on the other side. However, Juho didn't try to fight what he was feeling, and the fact that there was no pen or paper next to him was proof of that. There was no trajectory or objective. Instead, he simply filled his head with thoughts about death while writing. Although it wasn't clear as to how things would turn out, Juho assumed it would be something closest to his experience with death. That situation, emotions, and memories. Explicitly. Because Juho wasn't planning on sugarcoating his story, it had to be short and pack a punch. And he wrote while being conscious not to get ahead of himself, keeping a rational mindset. "Sigh." While the wet, emotional hands in his mind urged him on, the dry, rational hands clutched at his legs. Writing in that awkward and uncomfortable place was, simply put, a death-like experience. The river flowed peacefully, uninterrupted, without a clue of where it would end up. The wavelets broke fearlessly, serene and beautiful. There was nothing murderous about its appearance despite it being responsible for killing an author. With that, Juho kept typing away, asking himself, 'Why did I have to die?' Unfortunately, he couldn't reach an answer. The river flowed, and the young author kept on writing. --- "I'm getting hungry." The sun had already set by the time Juho finished writing. As the battery in his laptop ran low, he had been going repeatedly to a nearby cafe in order to charge it, and the only thing that had gone into his stomach the entire day was coffee. Feeling insecure about becoming more like Kelley Coin, Juho picked up a flyer he had received as he arrived at the park near the Han River and ordered himself a bowl of black bean noodles. Korea was a fascinating country where there was always somebody working. The noodles Juho had ordered arrived in no time, and he began to slurp away at it as quickly as it had arrived. Then, as he ate hastily, he couldn't help but chuckle. 'Man, what am I doing?' Writing had the power to reduce its creator to a beggar, and despite the seemingly harsh truth, the noodles were all the more delicious. Although sunset had been the only new development, the park near the river looked entirely different. He was alone, and there were no babies or dogs to be found anywhere. Except, bicycles were rushing past him even faster than before, and people paid no attention to the young author. Despite having the choice to make the night become day-like with all the lights in the city by simply relocating, Juho chose not to. The black river came into view. Black. Juho remembered San Jung and the clothes she had been wearing. And now, death. Only then, did he realize that the culprit responsible for taking his life had not been the serene river from earlier that day, but the black water before his eyes. It was in that gaping darkness that he had drowned. Then, he looked at the letters that filled the laptop's screen. He had to delete them. They weren't what he had had in mind. Upon pressing a button on his laptop, the letters disappear one by one, and with that, Juho ended up deleting more than half of what he had written. At the sight of it, Juho couldn't help but feel like his efforts had been in vain. What he had written while enduring an empty stomach had evaporated into thin air. However, he had had no choice. It simply hadn't been what he had been looking for, and he knew that he could do much better. While bearing many lifeforms within it, Juho couldn't adapt to the black water that shone brightly. He couldn't become like the numerous creatures that lived within it. He was a foreigner, a loser, and a failure who couldn't adapt to his new environment. He typed away, asking himself, 'Why did I have to die?' Unlike previously, Juho reached an answer as if told by the dark water. The river flowed, and the young author kept on writing. Things were different from the past, when he had been on the verge of death. His hands had shaken from the alcohol abuse, and he had been entirely incapable of writing out the sentences in his mind. With that, Juho thought of the new faces he had met, and among them, a young girl who mourned the death of her even younger brother. Then, the moment he mixed those thoughts into his ever-so-peaceful plot, he noticed the pleasant changes that occurred from it. Juho took a notepad out of his inner pocket. However, no matter how many times he examined it, he couldn't find anything about the girl in it. The notepad had to be back in his room, amid the stacks of papers that had scattered all about it when he forgot to close the window before leaving his house. "Ugh, come on." With that, Juho rose from his place in a hurry. Along with his laptop, he also carried a notepad, and although his life had stabilized significantly since the past, Juho found himself running yet again. His vision shook, and the laptop felt quite heavy in his arms, but when he realized that he wasn't fighting for breath, it dawned on him how different things were from the past. 'I'll probably end up writing some more when I get home. I'll go through those papers until I find what I'm looking for. Then, I'm gonna turn what I'm feeling into writing.' Juho was motivated to win, and he wanted to turn up above everyone else. He wanted to move them and leave them shaken. Unfortunately, those were the very things that he would have to forget as soon as he picked up his pen. And for that reason, Juho decided to indulge in his greed until he arrived home. --- "Authors of Various Bestsellers Come Together to Publish a Literary Magazine! Yun Woo Reported to be Participating. Friendship among Yun Woo and Authors Draws Attention." "Is Yun Woo Really a Part of the Literary Club? News on Their New Literary Magazine.' "Who Else Is in the Club with Yun Woo? Mideum Choo, the Author Who Created a Character Based on Yun Woo, Reported to Be in the Club." "Sang Choi, the Leading Figure in Korean Romance Novels, Part of a Social Club with Yun Woo." "A Closer Look at Korean Literary Magazines and Their Humble Beginnings Dating Back to 1919." "San Jung Youn, the Backbone of Korean Literature, Reported to Be in the Club with Yun Woo. The Club of the Giants and the Reason Why We Should Look Forward to Their Magazine." "A Number of Yun Seo Baek's Pupils Reported to be Participating in the Creation of the New Literary Magazine. Is Her Effort to Train Authors for the New Generation Finally Paying Off?" "A Number of Bestselling Authors, Including Dae Soo Na, Seo Joong Ahn, Dong Gil Uhm, Reported to Have Met Yun Woo in Person. How Long Have They Known About Yun Woo's Identity? An Interview on Their Current State." "Fans Already on Their Toes for the New Literary Magazine. The Best of the Generation Come Together. Inquiries Flooding in." "'Koreans Don't Read.' No Longer True? Yun Woo at the Center of the Golden Age of Korean Literature that Came After Crisis." "Will Yun Woo's Piece Be Included in the New Literary Magazine? Publishers Focus on Yun Woo yet Again. Would the Young Author Survive among the Veteran Authors?" "Will Yun Woo Take Back His Place at the Top from San Jung Youn? Yun Woo's Reaction?" --- "So, who was it?" Juho asked Dae Soo on the phone. Who could've leaked information about the club and caused such a ruckus? Who was responsible for keeping the writers from writing due to the countless phone calls flooding in? There were a handful of suspects, and although Juho could very well be one of them, he himself knew that he wasn't the culprit. Then, a heavy sigh sounded from Juho's receiver. "It was none other than our very own detective writer." At that, Juho chuckled. Mideum seemed like she had a talent for blowing things out of proportion. "She does have a history." There was the time when she created a character based on Yun Woo and mentioned his name explicitly in an interview. Thanks to that incident, Mideum had earned herself an interview with the young author. However, Juho couldn't quite wrap his head around what had happened this time around. "It's our sad fate to repeat the same mistakes over and over again," Dae Soo said as if she had let everything go. She had to have punished Mideum already. Then, hearing some commotion in the background, Juho asked, "Seems like you were in the middle of something." "You might be leading a quiet life, but we've been getting phone calls left and right, from both readers and publishers." At that, Juho sipped his tea unhurriedly and asked, "So, what's your plan, our fearless leader?" "Well, seems like we don't have much of a choice other than to go big," Dae Soo said confidently. "Thanks to you, Mr. Woo, the demand for the magazine is exploding, and this is a literary magazine we're talking about! We haven't even started putting the pieces together!" "Please, how are you so certain that it's because of me?" "Are you really asking? Did you see how much you're mentioned throughout the media?" "I'm sorry," Juho admitted, since it was true that the name Yun Woo was being mentioned significantly more in all media. "Well, since we already decided to go big, we should be the ones thanking you." The name Yun Woo was an excellent means of advertisement, and Dae Soo confessed that it was foolish to have thought that they wouldn't enjoy the benefit of bearing that name. "It's gonna sell like there's no tomorrow, and we're gonna donate every cent we make out of it." At Dae Soo giving him the opportunity to object, Juho said, "How can I? I'm on board." "OK, then. Now, from here on out, forget about having a light-hearted attitude. We're each writing pieces to be published to the world. Of course, you didn't need me to remind you of that, right?" Juho hadn't intended on approaching the project light-heartedly from the get-go, and it had to be the same way for the rest of the authors in the club. "Of course. Seems like things got even more interesting!" "That's what I like to hear! Geun Woo was groaning miserably." "He tends to make a fuss." It was easy to imagine the author's depressed expression. "I'm guessing Mr. Choi is ecstatic?" "Of course! It's an opportunity to get more attention." "What about San Jung?" "As usual. Nonchalant. Nothing fazes her, really." "That sounds about right." Then, Dae Soo changed the subject to Mideum. "Oh! If you'd like to punish Mideum in person, come over now." "Punish? I have intention to do such a thing." "Really? Well, Uhm and Ahn are on their way." It was rather unfortunate for Mideum. Although it wasn't clear how much she would suffer from Dong Gil and Seo Joong, Juho sent some small encouragement her way. Then, before hanging up, he added, "You won't be able to get a hold of me until I finish writing. I'm planning on keeping my phone off." After the news about the literary magazine got out, his phone started ringing relentlessly, and there was no denying that it was a distraction. Now that he had had the opportunity to explain himself to Dae Soo, Juho fully intended on keeping his phone turned off for a while. "O-ho-ho! Sounds like you're going all in on this, Mr. Woo." "Yes, I fully intend on staying focused." From then on, Juho decided not to let anybody disturb him. "By the time we talk again, I will have finished writing." Then, a quiet chuckle sounded from his receiver, saying, "OK, break a leg." With that, Dae Soo hung up. There was a subtle hint of competitiveness in her voice. After Juho turned off his phone and put it in a drawer, he placed his hands on the keyboard. The act bridged the gap between the present and the moment in which he had been writing while looking at the river. The emotions that he had brought home after meeting the girl and her brother, preserved in manuscript paper, were scattered all about his desk. From then on and for a very long time, only the keyboard resounded in the room.

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176 The Beginning and The End 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl A car zoomed past. Juho was out on a major street in front of his house, waiting for Joon Soo. "Is a bottle of water really all I need to bring?" Juho said, fiddling with the water bottle in his jacket's pocket. They had decided to go hiking at the mountain near Yun Seo's house, and because it wasn't too difficult of a hike, Juho was told by Joon Soo that he wouldn't need to prepare a whole lot. There wasn't any particular reason to their hike. It was purely accidental. It was their means of celebrating having finished writing. Every author in the club had finished writing their respective pieces on death, and the literary magazine, 'The Beginning and the End," had officially gone into production. Because he had been wrestling with his piece for an entire month, Juho had expected to finish last. However, he was proven wrong by San Jung, who was known to take her time writing. One of the reasons that the magazine had been drawing so much attention had to be that she was coming out with yet another piece within a year of her new book. Juho remembered her black clothes, and the lingering impact of the short story he had written came rushing back. At that moment, the honk of a horn sounded out, and when Juho looked up, a familiar-looking car was parked in front of him, with Joon Soo in the driver's seat. "Lost in your own world, I see?" "I guess so. Been a while." With that, Juho got in the car. Because Juho had kept his phone off the entire time he had been writing, it was their first time seeing each other since the meeting at Madame Song's restaurant. Although the interior of the car wasn't all that different from the last time he was in it, the car did feel different since Juho was sitting on the passenger's seat, unlike last time, when he had sat in the back. "Going home was a breeze, thanks to you," Juho said, remembering the last time he had been in Joon Soo's car. Wearing a welcoming smile, Joon Soo replied, "That's good to hear. How's writing? Did everything turn out OK?" He made the questions as if curious about Juho's piece, and because Juho was interested in Joon Soo's piece himself, he didn't try to change the subject. "I can't share that with an enemy." … Of course, he wasn't so naive as to share information with a competitor, either. "Well, that didn't work," Joon Soo said, focusing on driving. After looking out the window for a brief time, Juho opened his mouth and asked, "What about everyone else? Have you heard anything?" "I don't have any details, either, but I do know about Choi." "That's makes sense, considering how confident he is," Juho said, remembering Choi's naturally confident expression. From what Juho heard from Joon Soo, Sang Choi had implemented the widely identified subject of "death with love" into his piece, which made a lot of sense, considering that he excelled in writing romance novels. He was already famous for his stories on interpersonal relationships, which unfolded as the plot jumped back and forth between the boundaries of sentimentality and rationality, "The main plot is about two people who go on a trip, right?" "That's right." "Do you think it's going to be a romance novel with an added element of thriller? I think Mr. Choi would excel at writing a story like that." "We'll have to find out when the magazine comes out, but from what I heard from him, apparently, there are elements of death throughout the course of the trip." Death was related to more destinations than one realized. "Even the protagonist's birthplace belongs to someone who has already died." "I think Choi's portrayal of death will be refreshing." "Refreshing? That sounds a little odd when used in the same sentence as death." "He's good at coming up with odd things… like that." Although Juho had never read Sang's books himself, he found himself looking forward to them, and as Joon Soo turned the steering wheel, Juho asked, "So, what kind of novel did you end up writing?" Then, as Joon Soo's body tilted to the left and back, Juho added, "Mr. Joon Soo Bong, the new, hottest author." At that, his welcoming smiled faded away. Juho had never seen him furrowing his brows up to that point, and Joon Soo seemed blind-sided. "I would've never thought that I would hear that from Yun Woo." His recent book had made an appearance in 'The Great Book Club' on TV, which had had skyrocketing viewership after the special episode on Yun Woo. There had been multiple occasions where a book that had appeared on the show had reached the bestsellers' list, but none of them were as drastic or explosive as Joon Soo's books. The fans cheered on as the ill-fated, yet skilled author climbed his way up the bestsellers' rankings. The intricate sentences and poetic nature of his stories grew massively popular and sold at an increasing rate. The weekly bestsellers' rankings had been entirely occupied by San Jung, Yun Woo, and Joon Soo. "'I Remember the Lightning from that Day' has been doing especially well, right?" "That's right. When it first came out, it was one of the books that got pushed aside because of Yun Woo's books." Unfortunately, Joon Soo's book had been first published around the same time as Yun Woo's, and in the end, it had received significantly less attention. However, things were different now, and his book was finally seeing the light of day, following in second after San Jung's book. He had surpassed Yun Woo in the weekly totals. "I remember the time when you were confident about the book because it was your ninth one. That was really strange." "Right? I'm telling you, the number three really serves me well!" With that, he flicked the steering wheel with his finger three times. Then, Juho recited the title of an article he had seen recently: "'Yun Woo Pushed Aside by Veteran Authors.' What is your opinion on that title?" "Hm. I think it's quite provocative. It doesn't sound all that convincing, either. Whoever wrote that article couldn't have seen you in person, you know?" It was a rather honest answer, and with his distinct, welcoming smile, he added, "Although, I can't say that it's entirely inaccurate." The words contradicted the expression on his face. He had to be a lot more passionate about his work than he had been letting on. "Well, this time, we'll get to find out if that provocative title was actually accurate or not, right?" At that, Joon Soo chuckled quietly. "You really are grounded. You're not swayed by anything." "That's not entirely true. I got distracted while I was writing because I was curious about what the other authors were writing, and that includes you, Joon Soo." 'Therefore, I plead you to share more about your work.' At the subtle, yet unmistakably clear message, Joon Soo let out a sigh as if giving in and said, "I've been writing about powers." "There are all sorts of powers in this world." "More specifically, political. It's about the life of an ordinary citizen who's helpless against the national authority." National authority. Ordinary citizen. They were rather plain-sounding words. "Is it about resistance?" "No." "Is it about fighting something greater?" "No. The authority gets exerted strictly in one direction, and no citizen can stand against it." "What about the ordinary citizen? Do they die?" "No. Nobody dies in this piece. It just doesn't call for any deaths." With that, the car came to a stop, and before Juho knew, they had already arrived at Yun Seo's house. "It's a scenario where things like freedom and rights have been long dead." It was a very Joon-Soo-like approach, heavy and serious. He was portraying an imbalance between individual rights and the national authority. "That's rather provocative." "That's what death is like." Then, Juho unbuckled his seat belt, and as he was about to get out, Joon Soo asked, "Am I still your enemy? Even when I came clean?" "Of course. I've realize now that you're much more threatening of an enemy than I thought." "That's disappointing. Not even a snippet?" As Juho opened the door, a fresh, cold air rushed into the car. Then, he decided to be a bit more generous toward the author. "It seems like we're opposites, you and I." "Opposites?" In Juho's writing, there was no such a thing as a nation or an authority or any sort of big background. Simply… "My story is about a dying person." Juho was intentional in his choice to leave out any cumbersome decorations or details, and simple stories like that tended to reveal the author explicitly, from their skills to emotions, thoughts, goals, and the messages they were trying to convey. Although there was no way to know whether the story would turn out to be a letdown or be able to move the hearts of its readers from within, Juho wrote without second guessing himself. Looking at Joon Soo, he said, "In any case, I really worked hard on it." With that, he got out of the car, and Joon Soo stayed in his seat in order to park, letting the young author leave. Left alone in his car, Joon Soo replayed the words that Juho left behind in his head. "It kind of scares me that he worked so hard," he said to himself with a chuckle, flicking the steering wheel three times. --- "Hello," Juho greeted Yun Seo, who stood by the entrance of the mountain. Dressed in simple hiking attire, she greeted Juho with a welcoming smile, as she always had. "Hey," Geun Woo greeted Juho, waving his hands while wearing miserable look. It was obvious that he had been dragged out of the house against his will. "I heard that you've been working on something with other authors?" "Yes. I'm sure everyone knows by now." Thanks to Mideum, the literary magazine Juho had been working on with his colleagues had become a widely spread news. Rumors circulated among the fans, such as: 'Apparently, a bunch of authors got together to publish a literary magazine, and it turns out that Yun Woo is a part of that, including a handful of Yun Seo Baek's pupils. The word is that they are all comparable to each other when it comes to writing.' "Geun Woo had been looking like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, saying that he had no idea of what to write in the midst of all those talented authors." "Oh, c'mon, Mrs. Baek! I wasn't THAT bad." Although he declined Yun Seo's claim, a pair of dark circles under his eyes were telling Juho that the anxious author wasn't getting much sleep still. "You didn't give up, though." "Thank goodness. Otherwise, I'd be stuck in my room to this moment." The fatigued look on his face only added weight to his statement, and looking at Joon Soo, who joined the group after parking his car, he said, "You must be having the time of your life, Joon Soo." At that, Yun Seo smiled brightly, adding, "I bet! Good things are bound to come to good people. We even bought a cake to celebrate." "I knew things will turn up for ya." While his teacher and colleague were genuinely celebrating his success with him, Joon Soo was wearing an awkward expression on his face, as if unfamiliar with the situation. "Man, what I would give to be famous!" Geun Woo exclaimed. Although there had been honesty in voice, he looked rather exhausted, so Juho asked, "Do you think you'll be able to survive the hike?" "Don't you underestimate my endurance." With that, the four set their feet on the hiking trail at the mountain near the neighborhood. Walking past a set of exercise equipment, they took the side route before reaching the paved trail and climbed a steep set of stairs. When Juho observed the three walking ahead of him, he saw Geun Woo and Joon Soo were keeping a steady pace while Yun Seo walked ahead of the group. It was a moment when her endurance truly shined. Then, a rock appeared in between the stairs, but the three kept on climbing, stepping on it like stairs. A tree root next to it had lost its distinct, natural pattern, as it had been treaded over the course of time. The daylight revealed the mountains in their full splendor. There were tree branches that had been broken off, and occasionally, plastic bags that flew about. After stepping aside and letting other hikers through, the four resumed their hike. "Are you all doing OK?" "Yes, don't worry about us," Juho answered confidently. At that moment, a sign that explained what was on the other side of the hill appeared. "There's a buddhist temple nearby, and they hold a lotus lantern festival there on his birthday," Joon Soo said, followed by Geun Woo, who added that their food was a delicacy. It was clear that the three were frequent hikers of that trail. After climbing a little longer, a neighborhood with buildings the size of ants in the distance came into view. While Juho looked out into the distant view, Yun Seo said, "Should we take a break?" Having arrived at the midpoint of the trail, there were plenty of places to sit and rest since the the terrain was mostly rocky. There were vendors here and there, selling snacks like cup noodles and ice cream, as well as other hikers who were resting either on their way up to or down from the peak.

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177 The Beginning and The End 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Let's sit here," Yun Seo said, checking her spot as she sat gently. After Juho and her pupils also sat down, Geun Woo took some snacks out of his backpack, and Joon Soo, a thermos. At that, Juho realized why he had been told to bring nothing but a bottle of water. "Here, have some cucumber." "Some coffee for ya." (TL's Note: Cucumbers are a popular snack for hikers in Korea.) Struck all over again by the sudden realization of how familiar Yun Seo and her two pupils were to the trail, Juho bit into the cucumber in his hand. Crunchy and refreshing, it was more than enough to quench his thirst from the hike. "A lot of people die in the mountains, right?" "Is that what you're thinking about in a peaceful place like this?" "I was just having some lingering thoughts." Feeling the inclination of the trail, Juho looked into the distance at a forest of buildings. Being in the mountains, it was only natural that he felt like he was leaning forward. Then, he wondered what life would be like for those who lived in such a place. "I heard you met San Jung?" Yun Seo asked, drinking her coffee. Juho had already been informed by Geun Woo that San Jung had also been one of Yun Seo's pupils. "She was a fascinating person. Quite different from the way she writes," Juho said. "San Jung is a gentle soul, unlike her writing style," Yun Seo agreed. As Yun Seo and Juho had said, there was a stark contrast between San Jung's quiet personality and her writing style. Portraying situations and emotions associated with them that were almost over the top, her writing was, simply put, intense. However, the fact that her readers were able to read through and resonate with such emotionally overwhelming books proved that San Jung knew exactly what kind of sentences to use in various situations. Her stories revealed her obsession with writing explicitly, and whenever Juho read a book of hers, he couldn't help but ask himself as a fellow author, "Is she OK?" "But you two are quite similar in some ways." "We are?" "You look like an average Joe, yet your writing style is anything but," Yun Seo said calmly. While Geun Woo giggled, Joon Soo added, "They both make me wonder if they're OK after writing with such intensity." "So, am I OK?" Juho was, in fact, well enough to climb up a mountain. "Yes. Hyun Do also said that you would be. Although, I'm not sure if I can say the same for the other person." She was referring to San Jung. Thinking back on his conversation with Hyun Do, Juho asked, "How come? Does she have indigestion?" "A digestive process might not be the best way to describe her writing process," Yun Seo said as she looked at the buildings the size of anthills in the distance. The world tended to look different depending on how people looked at it. In San Jung's case… "She's an author who becomes prey to herself voluntarily." At that, Juho cocked his head in confusion. "What does that mean?" Geun Woo asked, just as confused as Juho. "It's quite simple. You can just feel it when you read her books: desperate, getting eaten away in the inside. There are authors like that among the greats." The last word in her sentence lingered in Juho's ears for a little while. "I don't know if this would apply to San Jung, but authors like that tend to value writing over their own lives, so they dedicate everything to it, without holding back. Their values, emotions, efforts, talents. They just let their own work chip away at their being." Books written in such a manner tended to yield one of two results: a book that was unrelatable and at best, forgettable, or a masterpiece that overwhelmed its readers. It was a romantic notion, which many authors held dear to their hearts, to let their own craft eat away at their lives so that their works outlived their creators. Unfortunately, there were extremely few who were capable of that, and even if it was possible, even fewer actually carried it out. Smiling awkwardly, Joon Soo said, "I do get the impression that she doesn't really understand the concept of 'taking it slower.'" "She's kind of out of it, too." "Can I tell San Jung about all this?" "It's a compliment. I mean, you can just tell it from her moving to the mountains on her own. Her obsession with writing is second to none," Geun Woo said hastily, and after hesitating for a brief moment, he asked, "Do you think she would really go that far?" Did she have what it took to become a great storyteller? Then, Juho remembered seeing San Jung's face before his death. Back then, nobody had called her by a title like that. "Well, in any case, I'm really looking forward to her piece." "How are you saying that?!" At that, Geun Woo dropped his head, and the dark circles under his eyes grew all the darker. "Yun Woo and San Jung. And now, you. I'm the only one left out," he said, and his distinctively depressing expression appeared on his face, which suited his personality quite well. "Nobody knows what I look like either. You're not alone, Geun Woo." "Don't push it." As Geun Woo was about to give into anger, Joon Soo intervened. And Juho thought as he ignored him swiftly, 'I never have nor will let myself be devoured by my own mind. Maybe that puts me in the polar opposite from San Jung." Although there were times he found her writing style charming, Juho was fully aware that it was something that he couldn't dare to replicate. He was simply too greedy. Values, emotions, efforts, and talents. In his mind, they all belonged to him. Then, Juho remembered his most recent piece, which was just over nine thousand words. It was rather short considering that he had dedicated an entire day at the Han River to it, eating just one meal that whole day, and it was that very piece that he had wrestled with for an entire month. He had forgotten long ago how many times he had read through it or how many revisions he had made, and the only reason he was able to see it to the end was because it belonged solely to him. "Speaking of which, this is going to be Yun Woo's first short story, isn't it?" Geun Woo said. The piece would be Yun Woo's first short story, or perhaps, an autobiographical tale of his death, which nobody would know about. And holding on to that secret, Juho smiled quietly, unlike Geun Woo, whose expression grew all the more depressing. "Yun Woo's first short story, huh? That alone should be enough to catch people's attention. I just hope it doesn't get pushed aside." "Don't worry," Juho said. Perhaps death was a subject best suited for an author like Geun Woo. After all, death was often accompanied by depression. When Juho expressed his honest opinion, Geun Woo didn't try to argue. "Death isn't just depressing, you know. From what I've found out while writing, it's also contagious." Contagious. Death was like a cold, which spread through a person's sneeze. Juho agreed. "There is such a thing as a suicide contagion, right? Or a copycat suicide?" It referred to a phenomenon where people made the unfortunate choice to take their own lives after the death of a celebrity or a person of influence. It was an act in which people followed in the footsteps of their idols. Then, Yun Seo said, "That reminds me of 'The Sorrows of Young Werther.'" Along with Juho, her pupils had been thinking of the same thing. Written by a literary great named Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, 'The Sorrows of Young Werther' was responsible for the numerous deaths of young readers who had worshipped Werther as an idol, leading them to make the foolish choice of taking their own lives. It was for that very reason that the phenomenon was referred to as 'The Werther's Effect.' "That novel came out in 1774, right? People must have been sensitive to trends back then, too." "They always have been. There were countless young people who dressed like Werther in the book." "Apparently, there were colognes and works of pottery too. If you think about it, there's a long history of 'goods based on stories.'" A book that portrayed the events that occur as the protagonist, "Werther," falls in love with a girl engaged to another man,'The Sorrows of Young Werther' had a rather simple plot, and just as the title suggested, it was about Werther's sorrows. In a love that couldn't come true, sadness was inevitable. Werther was someone who was quite sensitive to his emotions, to the point of, when overcome with sorrow, taking his life with a pistol. While some may have thought the character to be idiotic and absurd, readers resonated deeply with the deep emotions portrayed by the author, to the point where some readers took their own lives. "Goethe, himself, was dumbfounded by the phenomenon. After all, he didn't look at Werther's suicide in a positive light, either. Apparently, he even begged his readers not to kill themselves like Werther." "Tell me about it. I would too. I mean, how tragic would it be to find out that your own work was urging people to commit suicide? The thought of it alone is making my stomach turn," Geun Woo said with his mouthful of cucumber, and Juho was no different. He couldn't begin to imagine what that had been like for the unfortunate literary great. "There are a lot of different opinions on how that novel came to be so influential, but the way I see it as an author, it had to be based on the author's personal experience." Like Joon Soo had said, 'The Sorrows of Young Werther' was a book based on its author's personal experience in having loved an engaged woman, and that of a friend, who had taken their own life after they were overcome by the sorrow of love. "I agree. The ending of that book was influenced by the death of his friend. A piece of writing that was influenced by something tends to influence yet something else." Although Geun Woo was stating the obvious, Joon Soo nodded affirmingly. Then, looking at the authors who had written on the subject of death with narrowed eyes, Yun Seo said, "You don't think that kind of writing would come out of this group, do you? Oh, maybe when I die?" At that, everyone shook their heads simultaneously. "Mrs. Baek! Why would you say that!?" "C'mon now, Mrs. Baek. Here, have a cucumber." "And some coffee." Giggling at their reactions, Yun Seo told them that she'd be looking forward to their upcoming pieces. "Don't get your hopes up too much, Mrs. Baek. It burdens me." "All right. If you say so." "I mean… maybe a tiny bit," Geun Woo said, struggling to make up his mind. Juho looked at at the inclining trail. He had written about death, and he, himself, had had firsthand experience with it. Whether or not he had actually died was up for debate, but in any case, it was true that his experience came very close to it. But, he had come back to the past. A piece like Goethe's. As long as Juho was Yun Woo, reaching the skill level of the German literary great was nearly impossible. Besides, Juho wasn't confident that he was capable of writing something that would move the readers to the point of making them take their own lives. However, nobody could know the results. Even Goethe, himself, had had no idea of what kind of effect his novel would have on its readers. That was what the future was like. Juho reminisced about his past life, made of nothing but an unpromising future. Because it had only grown worse by the day, only spiraling down further, Juho worked hard to twist and distort his experience, and he did it to his heart's content. A choice tended to yield various results, and now, he was building relationships with people he had never met in the past. The proof was in the literary magazine he was taking part in, which hadn't existed in his past life. The group of authors had also been no more than a social gathering. 'Will the future I'm about to face still look anything like the past?' It was very likely that it would be nothing like the future he had experienced. However, the opposite was always a possibility. "All right. Shall we?" "Yes, ma'am." Juho thought of the eccentric author. Dressed in black, red lipstick, preferred her steak well-done, and a wine drinker. However, he couldn't remember her face for some reason. Even when he put the bits of his memories of her together, they were simply not enough to help him remember, and Juho was well aware as to why. He knew the reason she had felt like she had been surrounded in fog when he had first met her, and he was looking forward to her portrayal of death. How many people had been affected by her death? Juho remembered the media clamoring about her death. Before he had died, there was a time when she had taken her own life.

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178 The Beginning and the End 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "It's Finally Out! The Literary Magazine 'The Beginning and the End.'" "'The Beginning and the End' Marks the Highest Daily Sales in the History of Korean Literary Magazines. The Resurrection of Literary Magazines." "Yun Woo, the Shining Star Among the Veteran Authors. The Significance Behind His Portrayal of Death. The Awe-Inspiring Capacity of the Young Author." "Yun Woo's New Short Story, 'River,' Delivers a New Wave of Shock. What Are Some Things that Can Be Achieved Through a Short Story?" "Yun Woo, Arguably the Most Distinguishable of the Nine. A Closer Look at the Critically Acclaimed 'River.'" "The Battle between San Jung Youn and Yun Woo. Yun Woo Wins? Fans React." "The Critic, Pyung Jin Lee, Discusses the Difference between San Jung Youn and Yun Woo. The Perspective on Death, and the Gap between Ideals and Reality." "Critics Deem Yun Woo's Recent Work, 'River,' His Deepest Work Yet." "'The Youngest to Debut as an Author.' A Closer Look at the Genius Author's Portrayal of Death." "The Once Dwindling "Yun Woo Fever" Strikes Again, Passing San Jung Youn and Joon Soo Bong's Close Pursuit." --- A bicycle rushed past like wind behind Juho, followed by an excited child with a kite in its hand and its parents. Standing at a spot on the bridge from where the Han River was visible, Juho opened the literary magazine that Dae Soo had sent him. While the gust of wind blew against the pages, Juho maintained a safe distance from the rail, which was about three steps away. First, he looked at the table of contents, where the titles of each piece were listed along with the authors who wrote them. The magazine started off with Geun Woo's piece, followed by Mideum, Dong Gil, Seo Joong, Dae Soo, Sang Choi, Joon Soo, San Jung, and lastly, Yun Woo. Although it wasn't clear as to how the order had been decided, it bothered Juho slightly that he was at the very end. With the special condition of writing about a shared topic as a group, being the last in line was a disadvantage because there was danger of readers growing more familiar with the content. 'What if it gets buried?' "Dad! The string's all tangled up!" the child shouted in the distance while flying its kite, and the lone kite in the sky plummeted to the ground. After looking at that for a little while, Juho redirected his attention to Geun Woo's piece. Something welled up from within him, as it was their first time reading each other's works. The other authors had to be doing the same thing, looking at the newly published magazine in their respective places. "Ha…!" Juho let out by reflex after reading Geun Woo's piece. It was depressing. The fact that the magazine started off with such a depressing piece accentuated the nature of the magazine, which was on the subject of death. Geun Woo's portrayal of depression was addicting in a way that was unexplainable, making the readers want to read on. Then, the Mideum's piece followed after it, bringing about a complete change in mood. There was a strong element of humor, and with the author being a writer of detective novels, the plot centered around a mysterious death. It was entertaining. Considering the unique characters and friendly plot development, Mideum's piece had to be the most appealing to the masses. She was an author who was very well aware of the charm in her writing style. Next, came the section where the magazine transitioned from Dong Gil to Seo Joong. Just like their personalities in real life, there was a stark contrast between their writing styles, and it was satisfying to see such polarizing styles back to back. A heat that peeked through the greasiness. Or the savory that followed after sweetness. The flavors of the two pieces weren't merely sweet or salty. They were overwhelmingly so. While one was rigid and the other mushy, they were both outstanding in terms of their skills, balancing each other out. Then, there was an unpleasant stench of mold. Thankfully, the source of the odor became clear when Juho read the next piece. Casu Marzu. It was rotten cheese that was fermented by placing live maggots in it, which had the surprising effect of giving the cheese a softer texture. Although most people would find it repulsive and nauseating, those who developed a taste for the cheese couldn't stop craving it. Because the cheese was prohibited from being sold in public markets due to the food safety and hygiene laws in various countries, the Casu Marzu was sold in the black market. It was a delicacy for many, to the point where they would prioritize getting their hands on it despite the law or the maggots living within the cheese. It was a piece that reminded Juho of a strong wine. "A-ha! Here comes the wine." The wine that popped up in Juho's mind finally appeared in the following piece written by San Choi. Filled with self-love, he was an author who was quite sensitive to the relationships of others. Love was the most potent emotion that could occur from interpersonal relationships, and that was also where death existed. Not only was the wine strong, but it was also quite bitter. It was a magical elixir, capable of calming a storm of emotions while allowing its drinker to neglect the reality they were facing. By the time Juho's body and mind began to grow hazier, Joon Soo appeared, and the readers who had been indulging in wine tensed up at the sudden appearance of an intimidating father, finding themselves in places like a conference room or a classroom. The air was cold, and Juho felt pricked in the heart. It was a rather heavy and serious piece. By the time the stench of alcohol had left the body, Juho felt the tightness of a formal attire on his skin, and responsibilities like assignments, homework, and projects rose to the surface of his mind. "How Joon Soo-like," Juho let out, snapping out of the debauchery. The party was over. Then, when he flipped the page, a title written in dark ink appeared. 'State of Ecstasy.' That was San Jung's choice for the title. At that, the list of novelists who had ended their own lives rushed past Juho's mind. An artist who jumped into the river after being overcome by a sense of self-destruction. A great storyteller. Without even mourning the passing of their creators, stories written by such writers were still just as popular as when they were first published. However, San Jung's book was different. It had yet to reach that point. Like a kite with tangled up string, she had never been able to reach the top before her string broke. As the gust of wind blew against the pages of the magazine yet again, Juho applied more pressure through his hands and read on carefully. It was a story about a man who was stranded, exhausted, and wrestling with the temptation of death. After fighting against the formless enemy, the man fell into a state of ecstasy with death, which took shape of a person. Ecstatic. It was just as the title had suggested. Juho didn't want to miss a single word while he read. Much like Juho, San Jung's portrayal of death was quite explicit. However, there was a difference. Jumping back and forth between the boundaries of reality and fantasy, she had portrayed even something like that as an illusion. It was closer to idealism than rationality, and that was where the difference between the two authors occurred. Juho breathed slowly, and without even reading the last piece, he closed the magazine. While he felt hazy after reading about death for an extended period of time, there was a sense of satisfaction within him. The magazine was quite a treat. Then, he looked up at the sky, where a kite was flying. It was the very kite that had plummeted to the ground when the string had tangled up. Now, it was flying high in the sky, and following its father's advice intently, the child clasped on to the string. Then, the child shouted, "I'm gonna make it go higher!" The child believed firmly that there would be a next time. Juho listened quietly to the joyful sound of the child's laughter. Thinking of San Jung, he asked himself, 'Will she make the same choice? Has she read my piece?' At that moment, his phone began to ring. "Hello?" Then, Dae Soo's voice, which was calmer than usual for some reason, sounded from the receiver. "So, San Jung asked me to talk to you." "What is it?" Then, it dawned on Juho that he didn't have San Jung's contact information. "She wants to see you." "Oh, really?" "As soon as possible. At her place." "... Pardon?" "She wants to invite you over to her place." 'Her place as in... her house in the mountains?' "You mean, the place in the middle of the mountains?" It was the very place where snakes were a common find. Dae Soo gave him an affirmative answer, and while Juho had been caught off guard by the sudden invitation, he answered calmly, "Sure. How about tomorrow?" "Tomorrow? Isn't that a weekday? Do you not have school? Is it your school's anniversary or something?" "No. I'll just skip." In Juho's mind, there was a lot more to get from a visit to San Jung's studio than to being at school, so needless to say, the choice was obvious. "Man, that's one ballsy decision for a high school student in Korea!" "It's OK. It won't be that big of an issue as long as I have my parents' consent." "Sounds like you have experience?" "A few times. I was writing back then." "OK, then. I'll go ahead and deliver this endearing news to San Jung. Oh! While we're at it, what do you think about staying there for a few days? Say… a couple nights?" "As long as the owner is OK with it." At that, Dae Soo let out a hearty laughter, satisfied with Juho's answer. "I'll be there too." "What for?" "As your guardian. Besides, it's interesting. San Jung? Inviting Yun Woo?" Dae Soo's excuse to join as a guardian was rather obvious. She simply wanted to look around. Then, she hung up after telling him to meet her at the office by a certain time to carpool. After staring at the river for a little while, Juho turned around and locked eyes with a man. Although Juho had no recollection of ever meeting him, the man was staring intently at him. For a brief moment, Juho wondered if the man had heard him talking on the phone, but there was quite a bit of distance between them. And because they were on a bridge, the wind was rather strong, so it was unlikely that the man had heard Juho while he had been on the phone. 'Maybe it's a coincidence… But there is no such a thing as a coincidence.' While Juho was immersed with seemingly unhelpful thoughts, they crossed paths with each other, and soon, Juho forgot about him. --- The man stared intently at a student who had just walked past him. He had been watching the student from the moment he opened the magazine. The student was quite into what he was reading. As if there were all sorts of emotions in the book, he was reading with his entire body while adjusting his poise from time to time. For that reason, the man reached the decision to make a final stop at a bookstore to see for himself what the student had been reading. Finding the magazine at the bookstore was not difficult since it was being displayed in the most visible spot. Without hesitation, the man picked up a copy and headed toward the corner of the store, where the shelf for the technical books was, and plunked down in front of it, hoping nobody would come near him. He examined the magazine called 'The Beginning and the End.' Although he had been under the impression that it had been a novel, he came to learn that it was actually a literary magazine. There was band wrapped around the magazine with the phrase 'All profits will be donated' written on it, but the man paid no attention to it. All he wanted was to be able to enjoy the book as much and as lively as the student he had met on the bridge. Then, when the man opened to the first page, a word stood out to him: Death. At which point, he couldn't help but chuckle. 'What are the odds of reading something like this on this day?' "I killed a person," the man said light-heartedly, as if reading the book out loud. He had killed a person three hours before, and while walking aimlessly, he ran into a student. Then, he decided that he would read what the student had been reading. If only he had known what the book was about. Dumbfounded by his choice, the man opened the book. Although it was quite a depressing read, it was nowhere near as depressing as the situation he was in. Next, was a detective novel, which he swiftly skipped over. Each of the following pieces was just as uninteresting as the last, and the man found them unrelatable. As he flipped through the pages meaninglessly, he found himself getting angry all of a sudden. None of the writers understood what death was, and the man found their portrayals of it to be insignificant, especially the piece called 'State of Ecstasy.' He was quite bothered by it, to the point of feeling annoyed. 'How can one write something like this and grow popular? How can they make money with something like this?' The world was a rather unreasonable place. Then, it dawned on the man how the student had been able to enjoy what he had been reading so much. The student had to be too young to realize that the lies he was reading were untrue. He had been deceived. Annoyed, the man flipped to the last piece and saw the name Yun Woo. It was a name he was also familiar with. Looking to ridicule the young author, the man read on. "Sir, you can't read here." Despite the employee's voice, the man didn't move a muscle. From then on, the employee called for the man several more times, but the man sat completely still in his place, and as the situation grew into a commotion, people in the bookstore began to stare in the man's direction. He was holding desperately to the last page of the book, crumpling it. "Sir!" At that, the man's mouth parted open ever so slightly, and he let out a faint moan. His voice cracked dreadfully, and his heart throbbed as if it would jump out of his chest. He couldn't say a word. Then, looking up, he locked eyes with the employee, who looked extremely displeased while looking down at him with eyes filled with disgust. Then, the man wept.

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179 The Beginning and the End 4

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl The car shook, but Juho's butt had grown numb from the vibrations long ago. Everytime Dae Soo moved her hands, the car tossed Juho's body left and right, making for a fantastic ride that combined the driver's reckless driving with the unpaved road. When Juho looked at Dae Soo in the mirror, he thought she seemed to be in a good mood. "Do you mind driving a little safer?" "Blame it on the road. It might not seem like it, but in the last twenty years, I've never gotten into an accident." While the car shook him busily, Juho rubbed his arm as it bumped against that of another person, one with a displeased look on his face. It was Sang Choi. Thinking back to the time when Juho had greeted him in front of Dae Soo's office with a lunch box in is hand, he asked Dae Soo, "Remind me again why Mr. Choi's here?" "I don't know. I guess he wants to show the world how much time he has in his hands." At the absent-minded remark, Sang answered with a genuinely confident look, "It's not like that. I just happen to stumble across an interesting subject." Then, he closed his lips tightly, as if he had no intention of explaining what was so interesting. Juho, too, didn't bother to ask, but he had noticed the burning gaze that he had been feeling on him from time to time long ago. Then, the car shook again, and the lunch box on Sang's lap clattered about, making Juho wonder if the food inside would maintain its shape. After concerning himself with the state of Sang's food inside the lunch box for a brief moment, Juho took his phone out. Although the screen shook with the car, it was filled mostly with news of Yun Woo's books selling at an increasing rate and of his recent short story. People were busy comparing the nine authors. At that moment, a head appeared from his side out of nowhere. "People are so envious of your wealth," Sang said, reading the comments on one of the articles. Juho had a successful career at an early age, and there were countless comments of a similar nature. Some even attempted to spread a story of mysterious source, claiming that Yun Woo was buying off all of the most expensive land in Gangnam. Although stories like that had always existed throughout the young author's career, under no circumstances did he offer any explanations. The rumors tended to repeat the process of hyping him up and dying down. (TL's Note: Gangnam is considered one of the richer parts of Seoul, South Korea, which means the land there would be significantly more expensive than in other areas of the country.) Reading a post that even included pictures of a mansion only the richest of the rich would be able to live in, Juho couldn't help but chuckle. While seemingly absurd, they were establishing somewhat of a basis for their conjecture regarding Yun Woo's wealth. While comparing the young author to other world-renowned authors, they were ranking all of those authors based on their wealth. "Too bad I don't actually live in a mansion like that," Juho said, remembering a mansion near his school. To which, Sang said, "C'mon. Don't be so modest, now. You're loaded." "And how would you know?" "Isn't it obvious? The whole country knows that your book sold over a million copies only two months after its release. Of course, sales aren't everything for us writers, but that doesn't change the fact that your books have sold at an incredible rate. The more books you sell, the more money you make. On top of that, it's not like you've only written one or two books. And you have a significant fan base overseas, which would only multiply your profits. 'Language of God' is still doing well, isn't it?" Recently, the Dong Baek Publishing Company had put out the entire series of 'Language of God' as a set. Consolidating the series into a total of four books by combining thinner volumes together, the company gave the books entirely different appearances, from the quality of the paper to the cover designs. Those who took their fandom further than just being fans of the book to being fans of the world within the series didn't hesitate to buy the new edition of their favorite series. Fans across the globe were no exception. Because the novel was under a category they had already been familiar with, not to mention its quality and originality, the international fans welcomed the novel enthusiastically. Just as Dong Baek had predicted, genre novels tended to sell uncontrollably once they started selling. "Speaking of which, how come you're living in the same place, still?" "Pardon?" "I heard from Mideum. It got brought up in our last meeting too, right? Your writing space. A small room. Why don't you move to a bigger space?" "Hey, Choi! That's enough!" Dae Soo intervened in order to keep Sang from going any further. But he said with a shrug, "Well, he just won't answer if he doesn't feel like it, right?" "How did you become so mature?" "Just like everyone else." It wasn't all that difficult of a question to answer. There was no sad story like having to grow up quickly in order to pay off a family debt, or getting all of his money taken away by a father addicted to gambling. The current house Juho was living in was in a convenient location for him as a student, and there was nothing inconvenient about it in particular, either. Besides, Juho, having lived in it for a long time, had grown attached to the house. After discussing it with his parents, Juho had decided to live in the same house, at least until he graduated. Also… "I don't have all that much money." … The young author wasn't as wealthy as others imagined him to be because he had spent every penny he had made from his books. "What's that supposed to mean?" "That, I don't really feel like explaining." With that, Juho clenched his lips tightly and redirected his attention to his phone, ignoring Sang's repeated calls for him. Juho had spent every last penny in donations, and the reason for that had nothing to do with him wanting to go back to being homeless like in the past or not wanting to repeat the mistakes of the past. He had simply wanted to do it. After coming back to life, a voice resounded in his head whenever he thought about death. It was a scream. Juho couldn't be more thankful that there had still been someone who had screamed for him as he had fallen in the river. He was grateful that there had been a person who had cared for him. People weren't made to live in solitude. Yun Woo's money had been going toward those who were suffering from disease, poverty, violence, deprivation, historical accusation, war, disability, alcoholism, and prejudice. "I swear, kids nowadays. All they care about is their phones," Sang muttered, and holding back a chuckle, Juho read from the phone screen. Assuming that Yun Woo possessed substantial wealth, there were all sorts of opinions regarding the matter. It was easy to make direct statements while hiding behind anonymity, and it made for interesting writing material. Unfortunately, the car was simply shaking too much for him to keep reading, and despite his willingness to endure it, he had to look up from his phone. "Going over to San Jung's is an adventure in and of itself," Dae Soo said joyfully. She was a natural born driver. However, Juho began to feel like he might succumb to motion sickness if he were to stare at his phone screen any longer. With that, he opened the window, and the distinct smell of mountains rushed into the car. Because they didn't leave until later in the day and the weather wasn't all that great, it was already starting to get dark out, and being in the mountains meant that the sun would set even sooner. Then, Dae Soo turned on the radio, and the news came up saying that a criminal on the run had been caught. The car shook all the more, and the mountains were as dark as ever. At that, Juho realized with his entire body just how isolated San Jung was from the rest of civilization. Finally, the car came to a stop when they reached a point where they couldn't go any further in it. "All right, time for some exercise." Getting out of the car, the three each put on their backpacks and headed into the forest. What was supposed to be a trail seemed like it had been paved by the feet of those who had been through it up to that point, and it was hard to distinguish the boundaries between the grass and the dirt. The signs that appeared from time to time were less than helpful as they pointed in ambiguous directions. Thankfully, it was clear that there was a buddhist temple nearby. Juho observed Dae Soo, who led the way, and Sang from behind. Neither of them were fighting for breath, and Juho saw with his own eyes that Sang really had been taking care of himself, just as he had claimed. "All right, I get that writing in mother nature is romantic and all, but this is just ridiculous!" Nevertheless, he tended to complain quite frequently. Murmuring, he looked around at his surroundings, which were filled with trees and dirt. "C'mon, Choi. Man up. Even Juho's doing this." "Well, that's him. I'm my own person." Despite Dae Soo's provocation, it wasn't until Sang complained some more that he walked in silence. Because he was in an unfamiliar environment, Juho felt that his sense of time had grown dull. He had no clue as to the direction in which or for how long they had been walking. The only thing he could do was to follow the two people in front of him. "Are we almost there?" Juho asked. "Yes, almost," Dae Soo answered. However, they had to walk even longer. By the time they had repeated the same conversation about five times, Juho wondered, 'How long have we been walking for? Thirty minutes? An hour? Or maybe it hasn't even been ten minutes. Am I tired, or still doing OK?' It was all hard to tell. At that moment, a rustling sound came from the side, and when he checked it, he realized that it had been made by a cat. Paying no attention to them, it sat and bathed in what little sunlight there was left. Feeling exhausted for some reason, Juho kept on walking quietly, with the sun already about to set. "We're here." At Dae Soo's voice, Juho looked up to see a house built in an open space. The color of the house blended with the dirt around it, almost like a camouflage. "Welcome," a thin voice said. Just like before, she was dressed in black. Then, Sang went on to complain meaninglessly, "San Jung, are you thinking about moving out of these mountains anytime soon? "No." "Who would've thought it'd be so laborious to go over to a colleague's house?" "Come on in and get some rest." With that, San Jung let them in, and the interior of the house wasn't all that different from the exterior. There was a kitchen connected to spacious living room. There was a room, and books. "There are a lot of windows here." "Yes. I had them built so that I can see the outside." As he looked around the house, Juho drank the beverage that San Jung had brought out. However, what had seemed like ordinary barley tea was not anything like Juho's expectations. The bitter taste made it closer to medicine than water. Still, it was refreshing after that long hike. As he chugged the entire cup and sighed with satisfaction, he locked eyes with San Jung, who was staring intently at him. Then, wiping his mouth, he asked, "What is it?" "Would you like more?" "Yes, please," Juho said as he pulled out his cup, and San Jung poured the liquid from the plastic bottle into it. The liquid had a yellow tinge to it. That time, Juho drank it slower. "I see that there is a lot of paper here as well." "This place is more like a writing space than a home." "It's fascinating." "Feel free to look around." Looking at the books and manuscript paper on her workstation, Juho was reminded of his room for some reason. He was well acquainted with stacks of paper in no particular order on top of each other. "That's the study over there. I have even more books there. Next to it, is the kitchen." Looking in the direction of San Jung's explanation, Juho grasped the overall layout of the house. It really felt like a dorm. Then, a medal in a small glass cabinet located next to a couch in the living room came into his view. "That's the international award from Italy, right?" Juho asked, and following his eyes, San Jung turned in the same direction. "Yes, it is." "You were the first Korean winner." It was a widely recognized award. Given based on books that had been translated into English, the fact that San Jung had been chosen was nothing short of impressive. In the currently ongoing globalization of Korean literature, it was difficult to argue that San Jung had no influence in it whatsoever. It was through the very path that she had paved that exporting became a possibility. "How did you feel when you received it?" "I was happy. I felt like the entire world was recognizing me. Let's say that it was the moment when all my hard work up to that point was finally paying off. But now, I don't really care for it." As if proving her point, she reminisced with a dull, indifferent expression. "How come? Is it because it has been a while?" "No, time has nothing to do with it." "Then, what is it?" Then, she looked at Juho with eyes that were as dark as her clothes. "Because you're here." With that, her dark, gaping eyes became fixated somewhere slightly deeper.

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180 The Beginning and the End 5

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Juho thought about what San Jung had just told him. With his mind working busily to interpret her words in different ways, he kept his eyes fixed on her. "Why so serious?" Sang asked on his way out of the bathroom, from where the flushing sound of a toilet came. Then, San Jung answered in an indifferent tone, "We were in the middle of talking about my award." Nodding affirmingly, he looked out the window. "I guess it's too late to do anything now. It's already dark out. Why don't we just eat and call it a night?" "OK. You two sleep in the big room, then. Dae Soo and l will take the master bedroom." "Where are the blankets?" "I'll bring 'em out." Just like that, Sang secured a place to sleep like an old timer, and Juho followed San Jung in order to get his blanket. Her black clothes swayed about. --- "Goodnight." "You too, Mr. Choi." Because there was no bed in the room, the two guys had to sleep on the floor. When Juho lay down, he saw what seemed like a crossbeam on the ceiling. Judging from the looks of it, it didn't seem like it was actually contributing to the structural integrity of the house. If anything, it seemed more like a decoration. 'If it's just part of the interior, why is it in this room?' With that, Juho reminisced to the memory of his past life. He couldn't remember exactly when San Jung had died. It had been news that he had come across years after he had graduated from high school, when he had had no place to go. 'Was it in the subway station? Maybe I saw it on somebody's phone. Or a rumor, perhaps?' Whatever it had been, it had been delivering the news of her death repeatedly, saying that the author hadn't even left a will. What Juho did remember vividly was the place of her death: in the mountains. He also remembered thinking that the place had suited her personality. She had lived in the mountains, and on the ceiling of a room within it, there was a crossbeam. "Do you come here often?" Juho asked Sang, who was lying next to him. "As much as I can. Why do you ask?" Sang said, tossing and turning toward Juho. "You seemed like you knew where everything was when you were cooking dinner." He had known where to find everything in the kitchen, and as a side note, his cooking skill was quite impressive. Unfortunately, the food in his lunch box had transformed into a mess that had looked less than appetizing. "Man, I've said this before, but you really are quick." Then, lifting his foot up, he grabbed behind his knees and pulled them toward his torso. It was his method of stretching. "I come visit so San Jung doesn't get bored by herself." With that, Juho looked at Sang's toes. They were quite long. "She seems like the type who wouldn't even bother to eat when she's alone, you know? Dae Soo's been taking care of her a lot, too. It's a gathering. A "class reunion," if you will. Anyway, when San Jung's not writing, the members come here often, even without her inviting us." "I see." The rest of the authors in the group had to be thinking the same thing. It wasn't clear whether or not it was conscious, but they certainly didn't feel safe about leaving San Jung alone in the mountains. After all, they had been reading what she had been writing. As Juho looked at the crossbeam on the ceiling, he couldn't help but imagine it getting closer to him. Then, a scene played in his head where the crossbeam fell from the ceiling, crushing him underneath it. The coarse-looking crossbeam wasn't supporting anything. Then, a choking sound filled the room. When Juho looked to his side, Sang had already fallen asleep with his mouth slightly parted. It sounded like air was rushing into that hole, or perhaps, his nostrils, which were always open. The snoring repeated the cycle of crescendos followed by diminuendos. In an attempt to sleep, Juho closed his eyes, but unfortunately, his ears kept working restlessly. Then, with one, loud choking sound, the room sank back into silence. 'Is he not breathing?' Juho opened his eyes in order to check on Sang, and soon, there was sound air escaping. From then on, the snoring continued. "Cough." Wanting to sleep, Juho tossed and turned noticeably, but as audacious as he had always been, Sang's eyes remained closed. At that, Juho let out a sigh, realizing that sleeping was no longer a possibility. Then, he sat up slowly, secretly hoping that the movement would wake up Sang, but just like his name suggested, Sang Choi really was on top of everything he did. At which point, it dawned on Juho what San Jung had said about sounds in the mountains. Having given up trying to sleep, Juho went out to the living room. Because there were so many windows in the house, the living room felt rather cool, as if maintaining the same temperature as outside. However, it did feel like it would get cold in the winter. While the place might not be the best living space, it was quite nice as a writing space, and San Jung seemed to have been well aware of her priorities. Then, he went into the kitchen and turned on the light in order to pour himself a cup of water. Letting his eyes adjust to the sudden brightness for a brief moment, he opened the refrigerator and poured himself a cup of water. After quenching his thirst, he stared at the sink absentmindedly for a little while. Then, when he reached into his pocket in order to check the time, he realized that it was empty, and that he had left his phone back in the room. The faint sound of Sang's snores reverberated from the distance. 'I can't believe I can hear it from all the way here.' It was almost awe-inspiring. Because Juho no longer had the confidence to go back into the room, he walked back out to the living room and saw San Jung. "Were you not sleeping?" "No." She didn't seemed taken aback by Juho coming out of the kitchen. Simply, she stared in the direction from where Sang's snores were coming. "Quite a snorer, isn't he? He's known for that." "Is that why you put me in the same room as him?" "I actually wanted to go on a late night walk with you," she said as if she had predicted that Juho would come out of the room, unable to sleep. Then, San Jung's clothes came into Juho's view. They were still black and looked more like something she would wear when going out. However, because Juho himself had gone to bed wearing his sweatshirt and pants, the sight wasn't all that jarring. With that, San Jung walked toward the door, and as he had done previously, he followed her. "You could have just asked." "Dae Soo suggested that you should experience Sang Choi's top-notch snores in person." "That's cruel of you two." As soon as Juho walked outside, the wind blew. The mountain visible from the front yard of the house was nothing but a black mound. It was too dark to see anything. Then, as soon as she came out, she opened a cabinet in the corner of the house and handed Juho a flashlight. It would be Juho's first time hiking at night. "Isn't it dangerous here? You said there are snakes." "It's OK. I know the safe paths." With that, the two made their way up the mountain. With a long tree branch in her hand, San Jung walked while tapping the ground constantly. Relying solely on a flashlight for visibility while hiking was a rather nerve-racking task, and much more demanding physically. They were vulnerable and would fall prey to whatever decided to jump out and attack them. 'Is this why she hikes at night? For this experience?' Aside from their footsteps and breathing, the mountains were completely silent, and just as she had described previously, there was no sound aside from those which were being made by humans. On top of that, Juho had to be contributing to the silence, making the creatures wary of his unfamiliar presence. As he walked while looking down at his feet, San Jung's voice came from the front. "I read your piece, 'River,'" she said in the dark, shaking along with her steps. "It was well written." "Thank you," Juho said, expressing gratitude for her compliment. 'Tap. Tap.' The sound of the tree branch rhythmically hitting the surface of the ground resounded throughout. "Have you ever drowned?" "Yes." "What about dying?" Although the answer would be a 'yes,' Juho hesitated for a little while. Then, something snapped under his foot. "Do I seem like a ghost to you?" he asked, in a the same manner in which he had heard her ask previously. Then, without even looking back, she said, "No." It was a brief answer, and it faded only quicker in the dark. "That would mean that you're writing even as a ghost. That would be absurd." Juho felt pricked in the heart. "Right? Haha! That would be absurd." "I don't believe in ghosts." "Why is that?" "Because there shouldn't be anything after you die. That's what makes death, death, right?" At that, Juho looked down at his hands holding a flashlight. It was with those very hands that he had written a number of pieces after he had died, and he had also read a number of books since. "How are you able to write like that?" Then, focusing on the path illuminated only by his flashlight, he answered, "as in… ?" "Your portrayal of death." Juho tried to breathe quietly in order to hear her thin voice better. "What about it?" She gave no answer, and Juho, too, followed her quietly. The higher up they went, the darker their surroundings grew. 'How far are we going? Where are we going?' Asking himself questions which he should have asked before they had started climbing, Juho looked back, and saw nothing but gaping darkness, much like San Jung. "Why couldn't I write like that?" What came out of her mouth after quite some time was a question. Looking down at his feet, Juho answered. His feet moved busily, and he couldn't tell whether or not he was running out of breath. "Because you're not Yun Woo." Only Yun Woo was capable of writing 'River,' and as someone who had experienced death firsthand, only Juho was capable of writing a short story like that. Needless to say, Juho had put in a lot of effort into making sure that it turned out the way he had intended, and behind that intention, was sincerity. "I guess so." Again, a brief answer. Because Juho had been occupied with his steps, he didn't catch the subtle emotion hidden within that brief moment. All he could do was look into the dark and try to imagine the look on San Jung's face. Then, she asked, "Did you read my piece?" "I did." "What did you think?" A snapping sound came from below. Although it was a tree branch, what Juho felt through the sole of his shoe was similar to a snake. "Ideal, kind of fuzzy, subtle, and a little exciting at times. It was almost like being saved." That was what her writing had been like. "Even though it was on the subject of death." That was San Jung's perspective on death. Contrary to her belief, her portrayal of death was heavily embellished. Despite claiming that there was nothing after death, she, herself, was leaning on it. "Seems like my piece didn't really resonate with you," said the darkness. When Juho pointed his flashlight slightly higher, he was reassured by the sight of San Jung's legs in front of him. "Is that how it came across?" "Maybe I'm just feeling pricked in the heart." With that, San Jung kept walking in silence. After walking quietly for some time, Juho realized that his sense of time was starting get hazy yet again. He had no idea for how long or how far he had been walking, nor did he know the direction he had been walking toward. Still, it was somewhat of a familiar feeling. Then, a crow in his mind cawed, echoing throughout the mountains. "I really look up to Mrs. Baek," San Jung said after having remained silent for some time. She sounded fatigued. "In what ways?" "The fact that she poured everything into her craft. Isn't it incredible that she's still able to write even after that? Most writers would stop due to lingering attachments and for reasons that were very insignificant in hindsight." Writing tended to be cruel. Once they were depleted, authors were left helpless and unable to write. However, what was even more cruel was the reality of it. Countless authors had given up on writing before they had even gotten to use up their creativity tank, leaving the literary world. It was an obstacle even Yun Woo couldn't overcome. "I wanted to be like that, too," San Jung said. "I wanted to pour everything out like her. I don't mind being emptied out myself. I just want my craft to take everything there is to take from me. I want my works to outlive me." Then, San Jung stopped in her tracks all of a sudden, and Juho also stopped. Wondering where they were, Juho pointed his flashlight around only to find out that they were in the middle of nowhere. There was a trail over her shoulders, or the path they had been walking on behind his. "Are we stopping here?" As she gave no answer, Juho shone his flashlight slightly higher in order to check on her, revealing her ankles, waist, chest, neck, and face. San Jung Youn. "I was planning on it. Until you showed up."

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181 The Beginning and the End 6

Their eyes locked. The eyes that shone in the light were gaping black, and the emotions behind them became more apparent than just a moment before. "Deep inside, I'm a hypocrite," San Jung said, her voice reverberating through the mountains. She sounded calm, to the point of making Juho forget where he was. Within her, the spear that could pierce anything and the shield that couldn't be pierced coexisted, and there was no way to know what the result of the two colliding would be. "I've told you before about how I couldn't write for an entire week after reading your book." That had been one of the first things she had said to Juho on their first encounter. "It felt like I'd been emptied out." "Sounds like you've accomplished what you wanted." "No. I told you, not until you came around," she denied Juho's remark. What he had understood as her desire was, in fact, not her desire. Then, a strange, mysterious sound echoed in the distance. "It was a frightening experience," her pale lips moved busily. "It was clear and realistic, even though it was about death." Then, different emotions appeared in her eyes. Jealousy, envy, admiration. "Thanks to you, I won't be able to write for a while again because I was influenced by your writing before I even had the chance to start." Although there was no change in the expression on her face, all of her emotions were concentrated deep within her eyes. Writing meant everything and was of the utmost importance to San Jung, and it was that very thing that she was made incapable of doing. Even if it meant she could write no longer, even at the cost of her own life, the sentences sounding of admiration began to fall away from her. "After reading your piece, for the first time in a long time, I was afraid of death." Then, before Juho could help himself, he blurted out, "So, is that why you're still alive?" At that, San Jung's eyes shook ever so slightly. She didn't deny him, and it was at that moment that Juho realized that the reason she had taken her own life in his past life had been the same as the one at present. She might have been in a slump or actually deprived of her ability to continue writing, but for whatever reason, she had reached the conclusion that she could no longer write. There had to be an ongoing urge within her to take her own life, even at the present moment. However, she hadn't carried it out. Instead, she had brought the young author out into the mountains with her. "You portrayed death as if it was your savior, right? A beautiful being that would rescue you when you were faced with difficulties. Like a magic spell, that puts and end to all stories." At that, San Jung reached for Juho slowly, and the light fell away from her arm. Her torso leaned toward him, and Juho felt the incredible strength in her arm. Her eyes drew closer. Having forfeited her journey midway, she wasn't going to be remembered as a great storyteller. "That's right. It's garbage that had barely any impact on you," she said, looking angry. However, Juho couldn't help but smile. "Death doesn't solve anything." It was an unexpected remark, coming from her. "Your writing made it that way," she concluded. The fact that his writing had influenced her made the corners of Juho's mouth turn up all the more, despite not even knowing where in the middle of the mountains he was. In a situation where he would be left stranded as soon as San Jung decided to leave him behind, Juho couldn't stop chuckling. He saw his past self in her current self. What had changed him as he fell into the river had not been death. A pen and some paper had been in his hands even in his last moments, to write with hands that had reeked of alcohol. He hoped that she would understand and feel the message behind his piece. "Why can you write something like that?" she asked. "What must I do to be able to start writing again?" In a situation where she had lost the very thing that meant everything to her, instead of death, she began to seek another solution. Holding her hand, Juho lowered it slowly. Although it was cold, her pulse was racing. Then, he parted his lips slowly to say, "I, too, look up to Mrs. Baek." "... In what sense?" "The fact that she doesn't give up writing even after having poured out everything into it." At that, a perplexed look appeared on San Jung's face, and remembering something that he had heard while looking at the mountains in the daylight not too long ago, Juho said, "She's coming out with a new book soon. From what I heard, it's already written. And it's a full-length novel, at that." The icy expressions shattered away, and for the first time since they met, a discernible emotion appeared on her face. Her brow was raised and her eyes, widened. With her mouth parted open, she breathed in quietly. Her face was full of life. "If the tank is empty, then all you gotta do is fill it back up. It might take some time to reach the peak if you decide to take it slow and take breaks in between, but in the end, you get there eventually." Then, a mysterious voice echoed from the peak of a mountain in the distance. As it echoed repeatedly, the two stood completely still in their places. "Really?" "Yes." "Mrs. Baek wrote a new book?" "Yes." "She started writing again?" "Yes." Initially looking dumbfounded, San Jung began to chuckle. Then, Juho picked up the flashlight that she had dropped, and handed it over to her, which she took willingly. "Should we head back?" she asked in her thin voice. Only that time, it was clearly audible. "Sounds good. We should come back tomorrow." "... Aren't you hungry?" "Is there anything to snack on?" "Instant noodles." With that, they carefully made their way back to the house. Although he still had no clue where he was or how long or far he had been walking, he was much more at peace now than when he was when going up the mountain. --- Waking up early in the morning, San Jung washed her face. Despite returning home late into the night, she was never in the habit of oversleeping. Then, noticing that somebody had already woken up, Dae Soo, too, got out of bed earlier than usual. While she took a makeup pouch out of her backpack to apply some makeup, San Jung folded up the blankets. "Take me with you on your way down." "Sure. Are you going somewhere?" Dae Soo asked, looking puzzled. To that, San Jung answered in a calm tone of voice, "Yes. I want to go see Mrs. Baek." "OK, no problem." With that, Dae Soo sat in front of a mirror, patting her face. "What's the occasion, though? Did something happen?" "I haven't been able to write." Then, Dae Soo's hand came to a sudden halt, and seeing the look on Dae Soo's face in the mirror, San Jung chuckled quietly. "Are you in a slump?" "I'm not sure what it is, really." "... Are you OK?" Looking at Dae Soo, who looked shocked, San Jung said, "You read it too, right? 'River?'" From that sentence alone, Dae Soo caught on to the situation San Jung had been going through. After all, she was an author, active in the same field, and also a fan of Yun Woo. She had read Yun Woo's story ahead of most people. What she had started out of curiosity had led her to a breathtaking experience, and the emotions that came flooding in afterward were rather intense. 'Why couldn't I write like that? I'm just as much of an author as he is.' It had been a defeat in a battle that she had been unaware of. And the young author's capacity was so much greater than she could dare to fathom. Having been writing for nearly two decades, Dae Soo had made a name for herself since starting and was reasonably confident in her work. However, at the appearance of Yun Woo's short story, everything she had built throughout her career had been lost at once. "You know, I really wanted to do better than everybody else," Dae Soo said jokingly, but sincerely. Everyone in the club was an author and wrote with similar determination to hers, and there was no room for considering or yielding to others. Nobody raved about how impressive each others' stories were, or cared one bit about experience or age. The club was filled with authors who were less than mature, and every single one of them had lost to the young author named Yun Woo. "I wanted to write well," San Jung said while taking her black clothes out of her closet. "I've been trying hard to become a better writer than anyone, and that's why I've given up on the convenience of city life and the joy of friendships. I even won a world-famous award, heard compliments from Mrs. Baek, became a bestselling author whenever a book of mine was published, and won over the critics." Dae Soo listened to her quietly. "I wanted to write something that would leave everyone shaken, including you, Choi, Mideum, Joon Soo, Seo Joong and Dong Gil, Geun Woo, and even Yun Woo." Then, San Jung tossed the black clothes onto her bed. The black fabrics sank lifelessly in the air. "But, I failed." Dae Soo looked at San Jung in the mirror. For someone who was talking about failure, she looked rather relieved. "So, that's why I wanted to go see Mrs. Baek: to get some advice, after my confidence and pride were shattered into thousands of pieces because of that weird kid, who goes by Yun Woo. No matter what or how much I write, nothing feels right, and most of all, I can't stand what I've written for the magazine recently. I have to talk to Mrs. Baek. I don't know what to do." Then, the door flung open all of a sudden. It was Sang Choi. "Failure is the mother of success." "Have you been eavesdropping on our conversation!?" "A little bit," he said in a shamelessly confident tone. Then, as Dae Soo asked what his business was, he said, "Can I borrow something to put on my face? I think the water around here isn't playing very nice with my skin. My face is killing me!" At that, Dae Soo tossed him a moisturizer, and he began to slather it on his face. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, Dae Soo asked, "Well, how about you? Didn't you hate yourself after reading Yun Woo's story?" "I'm Sang Choi, Dae Soo. The top," he said, delicately patting his face. However, he didn't sound as confident as he had previously. "Uh-huh. Yet, you followed us all the way here." "Same goes for you." He had followed Dae Soo to San Jung's place because of Yun Woo. After reading the young author's piece, his presence had grown too massive for Sang to ignore. "So, I've read through his piece about forty-two times now, and I think it's starting to dawn on me." "What is?" "That I don't have what it takes to be able to write like that," he said, as confident as ever. "When I realized that, I didn't even want to write anymore. His writing is far from beautiful. Whether something's flavorful or rancid, he includes it all. He doesn't care about his readers one bit, or authors who could fall into despair after reading his piece, for that matter." "Wow. Did all of that just come out of your mouth?" Dae Soo said sarcastically. On the other hand, it dawned on her that Sang had finally met his match. "I mean, think about it. How can he write something like that while knowing that it would end up in the same magazine as my piece? I felt this way during our meeting last time too, but I'm telling you, he's an oddball without description! I have NO idea what his thinking process is like!" Then, he locked eyes with the young author in his head. Being the self-absorbed person he was, he had to have compared himself to Yun Woo tirelessly ever since their first meeting and reached a conclusion. "I'll just stay as someone who knows him," he said while rubbing the back of his hands. "When people ask me, I'll tell them that I knew him from the time he wrote 'River.' For now, I'll make do with raving to others about my presence having had an influence in his writing. For now," he said calmly. It was his way of defending himself. "And one day, I'll make him envious of me and admire my achievements." "If you say so." 'It's too quiet around here,' Dae Soo thought. Secluded from the rest civilization, there were no cheers or admiration toward Yun Woo. Instead, there were only self-accusations, competitiveness, and sense of emptiness hiding quietly within the authors' hearts. Yun Woo's portrayal of death carried intensity and mercilessness, leaving the authors to regret their decisions to read it. 'I should have tried a little harder. I shouldn't have made the club. I shouldn't have raved about publishing a magazine together.' It was a truly painfully, regrettable story, and even the thought of it alone was accompanied by a painful blow to the stomach. Then, Dae Soo breathed in slowly, but quietly. "How do you think he's doing?" She was curious. Would he be afraid of his own work after having written something so intense, so reckless? What would he do afterward? Would he be able to handle the aftermath? Would he be concerned with anything? Would he feel empty? Had he had any thoughts writing such an intense story? There was no way to answer any of those questions, and as always, Yun Woo did not offer any explanations.

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182 A Book Concert 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Huh, so this is where you guys were all hanging out." The door opened, and Yun Woo came in looking for them. Juho stood in front of the door with a towel on his head covering his wet hair, vulnerable and clueless. Droplets of water were still dripping from his hair, wetting his shirt and leaving a trail on the floor. "It's because SOMEONE wouldn't stop complaining about their skin. Would you like some?" "Don't mind if I do." Although he never really used lotions regularly, he took a dollop from Dae Soo to the back of his hand and began to rub his hands on his face as if washing it. Then, Dae Soo asked in passing, "Choi's snores were really something, weren't they?" "They were exceptional," Juho said, mumbling through his hands while applying the lotion on his face. As if aware of his snoring, Sang Choi pretended to be distracted. Being the astounding snorer he was, there had to have been times when he had woken himself up due to their sounds. "Have you been thinking about your next book?" Dae Soo asked. Seeing the young author's eyes through the reflection of the mirror was quite different from usual. "Not yet." After that answer with no trace of fear whatsoever, Dae Soo felt a slight disappointment, but at the same time, relief. "You know what, there's a ravine nearby that's perfect for relaxing. Wanna come?" "Sure. I haven't been to one in ages." "Haven't you gone with your friends? Well, I guess your generation prefers to hang out at internet cafes. Am I right?" "No, I prefer the bookstore." "Are you trying to show off because you're friends with authors?" After breakfast, the four went to a nearby ravine and had the time of their lives until sunset. --- "Must've been nice not having to come to school." Juho had lost count of how many times he had heard that sentence. After running into Seo Kwang in the science room for the first time in a while, Juho started listening to his grumbling patiently. "It sure was." At that, Seo Kwang pouted and murmured, "I'm sure it was. While your friend is in the prison called 'school,' staring up to the sky through the bars..." "The weather was nice though, right?" "... Eating nasty school lunch." "I'm sure you were able to make up for it at the cafeteria." "Nope. Stayed in class the whole time." There was simply no end to his complaints. However, Seo Kwang had a reason that had nothing to do with Juho's absence in the last several days, or even that he hadn't been invited to the vacation. "I couldn't get a hold of you the entire break, and you couldn't even tell me that you wrote a short story like that?! Seriously, what was that story!? It's a freakin' masterpiece! My heart tightens up just thinking about it, and you didn't even tell me about it!? Oh, yeah, right... Don't let me get in your way. It's not like I'm your FRIEND or anything. I'm just a helpless reader who can't meet Yun Woo, even by coincidence." Then, Juho looked up at the ceiling. Wearing his earbuds, Baron had been tuning out Seo Kwang and his ongoing grumbling for some time, and while Bom had offered Seo Kwang some cookies while wearing an awkward smile, that had only resulted in providing him even more energy to go on. Then, Sun Hwa blurted out, "Shut up already! For how much longer are you planning on being a crybaby!? So much for being a cool guy. Don't you try my patience, now." "My emotions are delicate and fragile. I can't just stop them from coming out." "Ugh! You're such a PAIN!" Despite Sun Hwa's disgusted glare, Seo Kwang didn't stop. Then, Bo Suk, who had been spectating the situation quietly, opened her mouth. "I read that short story, too. Maybe it's still sitting heavily in Seo Kwang's heart. It really was scary." At that, the entire literature club turned their eyes toward Juho. Everyone in the club had read the story, and they all knew that it couldn't have come from a friend or their other peers. As if… "It felt like it was written by someone who had died once," Seo Kwang said, and Juho, too, turned around to look at him. He was quite perceptive, and the amount of reading he did on a regular basis was second to none. He had the subconscious training to reach the deepest possible understanding of a book, and as far as Juho was aware, he was one of the most sensitive readers he knew. "I've been reading it, even up to today," Seo Kwang said, staring quietly at Juho. "Yep. I saw you reading it during recess." Juho had witnessed him with the magazine in hand, in person. He had bragged to Juho about purchasing three separate copies for himself. One of which, he carried around until it wore out and became raggedy. "You know, this magazine is just full of charm. I'm in love with every single piece in here." "Ugh," Sun Hwa let out, disgusted, but Seo Kwang remained unfazed. "But yours? I had a bad feeling from the moment I first started reading it. It undid whatever emotions had built up from the pieces before it. But you know what's really weird? I can't stop reading it. In fact, I read it the most out of all the pieces in the magazine." "That's flattering." "No, no. This isn't just about making you look good," Seo Kwang said, taking the raggedy magazine out of his bag. "I've read pieces like this before. One written by an author who had been pardoned from death row, and another by an author who had broken off their engagement because of their calling to be a writer. It was also similar to a piece that was written by an author moments away from their death." Then, Seo Kwang pulled out the magazine, and although Juho retreated, he still clearly saw the title, 'River.' "Are you OK?" "What do you mean?" "After writing a story like that?" 'River' was an autobiography, and the plot was rather simple: a person drowned to death. At just over nine thousand words, Juho had polished it thousands of times while staring at the very river in which he had drowned. "I wrote that over a bowl of black bean noodles." At that, a hopelessly disappointed look appeared on Seo Kwang's face. Then, burying his face on the desk, he muttered, "Give it back. My reading experience. My love." "I thought it made you feel uncomfortable?" "I said I read it the most." Then, Sun Hwa took the opportunity to mock Seo Kwang, who grumbled, "Now, I'm gonna think of black bean noodles every time I see the title. I'll never be able to look at that piece the same way, ever again." Although his attitude change was good for Juho, Seo Kwang read 'River' from that day on for an entire week, despite what he had said. "The teacher's here," Mr. Moon said, making his presence known as he walked into the room with 'The Beginning and the End' by his side. "Did you all stop writing? What about you, Bo Suk? Did you do your homework?" "Yes, Mr. Moon." "Learn from the freshman, ya rebels." With that, he sank into his comfortable chair and began to read Bo Suk's manuscript, and everyone else returned to working on their own assignments. While Juho was busy mapping out his piece, his phone began to vibrate in his pocket. Looking cautiously in Mr. Moon's direction, he checked his phone and saw that had received a text from Dae Soo. Intending on skimming through it, Juho tapped the screen and let out involuntarily, "A book concert?!" Along with the message saying that she planned on making it a club-wide event, there was also a somewhat forceful-sounding line: 'I expect you to participate.' "What is it?" Mr. Moon asked as Juho stared intently into the screen of his phone. At which point, Juho shoved the phone back into his pocket and shook his head in denial. --- "What I meant was that you should come as a member of the audience," Dae Soo said, offering Juho a cold beverage. It wasn't until he went to her office after school that he got to hear a detailed explanation. "A member of the audience?" "Yes, as Juho Woo, instead of Yun Woo. That's doable, right? It shouldn't cause any issues, either." In that case, there was nothing to worry about for Juho. Aside from the eight authors, nobody would know who he was, and being in the audience as an ordinary student would allow him to blend in with everyone else around. Munching on a scoop of ice in her mouth, Dae Soo directed her attention to Juho's school uniform. "You really look like a student." It was an obvious statement. "I am one," Juho answered. "Yes, but now that I see it with my own eyes, it's really starting to dawn on me. Yun Woo wearing a school uniform. Man, I'm almost tempted to take a picture of you and sell it. Maybe I should give 'em out to everyone who shows up to the concert?" "Please don't." Then, she laughed heartily and gave Juho the time and location of the concert, which was to take place in the corporate building of a well-known bookstore in Gwanghwamun. "Is it going to be in a concert hall?" "Yep. I gave a lecture there once. There are three hundred and fifty seats, and we'll start at nine o'clock." "That's quite a few." "Everyone else in the club is going to be there, so it'll be necessary to have that many seats available for the fans. San Jung has been staying at Mrs. Baek's place, so I was able to get a hold of her without much trouble." Without Yun Woo, there would be eight authors, which meant that there would be a significant number of fans. It seemed like it would be a rather massive of a concert. Then, Dae Soo handed Juho an envelope that had a ticket inside. "You'll be sitting in the center, first row. I need you to work up the crowd." "I think the fans will be very enthusiastic, even without me," Juho said in passing. And Dae Soo, looking expectantly at him, answered in a whisper, "C'mon, try interacting with your readers, this time." --- As the news of the book concert spread rapidly, getting a hold of a ticket grew into a bigger challenge. Since all of the club members wanted to go to the concert, Juho had promised to get them each a ticket, but they had all insisted on getting the tickets themselves, which ended in an utter failure. The tickets flew off the shelves because of a rumor that Yun Woo would be participating in the concert, and due of that, Juho ended up having to watch the book concert on his own. On the day of the concert, the twenty-first floor of the building was booming with people waiting anxiously for the concert. Although it was well before start time, there were people standing in line, which stretched endlessly, and Juho couldn't believe the sight of it. "What's this line for?" "It's so long." "I don't think I've ever seen anything like this." The line that started from the entrance hall extended all the way to the emergency exit and was separated into multiple rows in order to seat people in order. While walking toward the front of the line, Juho saw the crowd, which consisted of all sorts of people. There were some who looked like they were around Juho's age, while there were others carrying brand-name bags. From grandmothers holding their grandsons' hands to young couples, fathers and their daughters, older men on wheelchairs and an incredibly tall woman who appeared to be an athlete, there was quite an array of people. Born out of an impulsive decision made by nine, well-known authors, 'The Beginning and the End' had left the hearts of its readers shaken. As the disappointed look on the club members' faces rushed past Juho's mind, he was reminded that there had to be countless others who had hoped desperately to come to the concert. When he looked down at his ticket, it read: A-13. He was going to be sitting in the center, at the very front. "Is this the line for row A?" "Yes, it is," a woman answered him in a friendly tone. When they locked eyes, there was a trace of pleasant excitement on her face as she seemed to be feeling a mysterious sense of unity and belonging, and being unfamiliar with concerts, Juho stood behind the woman, sharing that same feeling. As Juho got in line, the man behind him made room for him with no trace of displeasure. When there was joy before their eyes, people were capable of being much friendlier to each other. "This is incredible," Juho said, impressed by the long lines all over again. The sight and the excitement level of those in line reminded Juho of a celebrity's fan gathering, a musical, or a play. Book readings were typically humble events where only a handful of readers came together at a place like a book cafe in order for each to read their books out loud, but this was a concert. Having had a similar image of the event in mind, Juho couldn't help but be taken aback by what he was seeing. "Do you think Yun Woo is here?" a woman asked. She, too, was rather friendly. "I'm not sure. Maybe?" Juho answered awkwardly. Carrying a large bag next to her, she had a defiant look about her. "When I heard that cameras aren't allowed, I knew immediately." "Knew what?" "That Yun Woo might actually be at the concert." At that, Juho corrected her gently, "I heard there was a separate time designated for photos? They don't allow photos because it can be distracting for the people onstage. It's quite common, actually." "Well, my intuition is saying otherwise. Something very unusual is going to happen. I just know it. I mean, seeing Yun Woo onstage? My heart beats faster just thinking about it." Then, she went through her bag and took out a small digital camera. "As soon as I see Yun Woo, I won't hesitate to use this." 'Well, the time for that would be now,' Juho muttered internally.

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183 A Book Concert 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Well, good luck with that," Juho said to the anxious, yet defiant fan, then looking ahead. At that moment and just as he was about to check how much time there was left until the start of the concert, his phone began to vibrate. Geun Woo was calling. "You here?" To the brief question, Juho answered, "Yes. I'm waiting in line." Soon, Juho received a text from Seo Joong... 'It's crowded, huh?' 'Yeah, it makes me wonder if there will be enough seats for everyone.' … followed by Mideum. 'We're in the seminar room on the same floor. We're all in the same message group.' 'You don't seem all that nervous,' Juho said. Then, Joon Soo replied, 'Geun Woo just took two doses of sedatives.' When Geun Woo's pretentious message followed after Joon Soo's, Juho looked away from his phone, which vibrated restlessly. It was almost time to go in. "Ladies and gentlemen, please make your way into the hall by the order of your seat!" Listening to the usher's instructions, Juho went into the concert hall. The frontmost seats were eye-level with the stage. The interior resembled a lecture hall, and there was raked seating like at a movie theater. There were eight chairs on the stage, with a water bottle placed next to each of them. Thinking about the authors who would be sitting there, Juho took his seat at the center of the frontmost row, which was at a distance where he would be able to lock eyes with the authors onstage. The hall was filled with excitement and anticipation, and having come on his own, Juho took a deep breath, letting the atmosphere carry him along. There was a thrill in the air, and Juho felt the affection of the fans toward their favorite authors and how much they anticipated meeting them. At that moment, the light turned off, and bright spotlights illuminated the stage. Then, from behind the stage, the authors began to make their appearance one by one. First in line, was Seo Joong, who was in appropriate attire for the first time. At the author walking out to the stage, light-footed, the crowd cheered and applauded without holding back. Then, the rest of the authors followed him. Dong Gil, Sang Choi, San Jung, Joon Soo, Geun Woo, Mideum, and Dae Soo. The hall quaked with the applauding fans, and Juho felt his body vibrating from it. Although all eight authors were onstage now, the applause continued until Dae Soo opened her mouth to speak on the microphone. "Hello, I'm Dae Soo Na." Then, the rest of the authors each gave a brief self-introduction. Having spoken last, Seo Joong said, after introducing himself to the fans, "Unfortunately, Yun Woo wasn't able to join us today." With that, the crowd went wild with disappointment. The sighs of three hundred-fifty people was just as powerful as their shouts. "Awww!" While blending in with the crowd, Juho locked eyes with Seo Joong. "BUT, he might still be watching us from somewhere. Who knows? Maybe he's just behind the stage, or blending in with the crowd. You never know who you're sitting next to." The crowd laughed quietly, and although they understood Seo Joong's remark as a joke, they turned to look at each other. Juho, too, looked at the person sitting next to him and exchanged a brief pleasantry with an older gentleman wearing a fedora. "All right. We will now begin the concert with the authors of the literary magazine 'The Beginning and the End.'" The concert was hosted by the authors autonomously, with minimal instructions from the backstage, which was invisible from the audience. It was casual, and the biggest advantage of how the stage was laid out was that it allowed for the relationships and dynamics between the authors to transfer directly to the audience. Even while onstage, they behaved just as they always had. In the beginning, the authors took some time reciting the most memorable parts of each other's works. While the crowd thought Dong Gil was joking about Seo Joong's books when he started every sentence with a phrase like "What made it tolerable, though…" or "The saving grace of... ," the wrinkles on his brow proved otherwise. Then, the authors moved on to discussing the magazine. Rampant with harsh, blatant criticism, the segment kept the audience on their toes. While it was clear that Mideum and Geun Woo were hurt, the rest of the authors skillfully analyzed each other's works, presenting opposing arguments while disagreeing or agreeing with each other. "Mr. Bong's sentences were outstanding. I don't know how many times I found myself impressed. I'd go as far as saying that he sets the example on the utilization of certain sentences and of appropriate use of figure of speech." "Should I be scared of what's to follow?" Joon Soo said with a pleasant smile. While the two were similar in many ways, they were also different in just as many ways. Although their topics or directions had a lot in common, there was a stark contrast in the way they went about expressing themselves. They both had a style that was serious and heavy, but one of them was concise, while the other was intricate. "It's nothing big, really. I was just thinking that it might not be the most efficient delivery mechanism." Therefore, Joon Soo's style was inefficient in Dong Gil's eyes. Then, remaining unfazed, Joon Soo opened his mouth and said, "I think otherwise. If anything, I find your style of writing more excessive, leaving out all emotion and rhythm in your sentences." As a poetry lover, Dong Gil's style was simply too practical in Joon Soo's eyes, and just as it had always been, there was no way to discern who was right. At that moment, Sang Choi interjected into the ongoing debate. "How about me? What are your opinions of my work?" At that, Mideum and Geun Woo looked at Sang, who was brave enough to ask for criticism willingly, with respect. He looked quite confident. Then, Dae Soo took the opportunity to speak. "First off, it was nice and sweet. I think it really accentuated the positive aspects of the emotion, which is love. It made me want to fall in love with someone, and I found a lot of joy in seeing how the two characters complimented each other in their relationship, like a jigsaw puzzle. It was very immersive. However…" She added, "I did wonder if it was clouding the author's portrayal of death." In Dae Soo's eyes, Sang's interpretation of death was, simply put, bland. However, Sang stood his ground. "You gotta understand something, and that is that the blandness of my piece was the result of careful calculation." 'Is he admitting that his piece was too bland?' Juho asked himself, chuckling. "I also have something to say about your piece. Did you have to make it so creepy and damp? It's something that can only be enjoyed by those who can withstand it." "Sounds like I did something right." To Sang, Dae Soo's style was too potent. The two debated for a while, and eventually, Geun Woo opened his mouth timidly to interject, "I, personally, learned a lot from Mideum's piece. I think it was the piece I was most at peace with while reading." "You're too kind," Mideum said, smiling shyly. "I loved the balance between the depressing and dry elements. It definitely wasn't something you see everyday." "Thank you." Of course, not everyone was looking to talk each other down, and the variety in dynamics made the concert a rather entertaining experience. Immune to the edgy criticisms between authors, Juho watched and listened in peace. That is… until his piece was mentioned. "OK, last, but certainly not least, let's move on to discussing Yun Woo's piece." At that, the crowd lit up, and the authors' eyes scanned past Juho as they pretended to look around the crowd. 'They didn't tell me anything about mentioning me or my piece?' Then, everyone onstage brought their microphones up to their mouths in preparation. It was hard to imagine that, even up to a moment ago, they had been fighting fiercely with each other. "Yun Woo's portrayal of death was very explicit. The plot, itself, is about a person on the verge of death," Dae Soo started out with something that had to be well known to every fan of the young author. The authors took their time in getting their hands on their prey, and Dong Gil added what sounded like a personal remark. "I'd like for us to focus on WHERE the main event took place. The protagonist drowned, which means it was water that was responsible for the death of this individual. As soon as I read this piece, I called Yun Woo." At that, quiet cheers sounded from the audience. The fans were envious of Dong Gil, who had the liberty to call the mysterious young author whenever he wanted. However, Dong Gil paid no attention to the crowd's response, adding, "And I asked: Why did you make him drown? Why water?" The audience listened to him intently, and just like Dong Gil had said, he had called Juho, and Juho had answered. Dong Gil had asked about water being the medium to the point of obsession. His perception had been rather impressive. "Uh... I don't remember hearing about this," Seo Joong murmured, but nobody answered as they were focused on Dong Gil's story about Yun Woo. "Then, he said in a tone that was as light-hearted as ever: 'Just because.'" At that, Geun Woo let out, disappointed, "What? That's it?!" And Dong Gil answered with a cold expression on his face, "That was it. Yun Woo didn't explain himself, and I don't see that in a negative light. I believe that forcing the story to have one, single meaning takes away from the reading experience, and I think this is especially true of Yun Woo's piece. I'm sure he, himself, knows this well." Unfortunately, Juho had only given Dong Gil such an answer because he hadn't been able to figure out a way to avoid saying that it had come from experience. "So, this is my interpretation of his piece. As you know, it was very explicit and detailed in the description of one's terror of water rushing into their body and the pain of suffocating. Although I, myself, have never drowned, I was still able to relate to his portrayal of death because it bears a lot of resemblance to the terror any adult feels at some point in their lives when being part of a society. At that, Sang nodded affirmingly. "Water carries a slew of meanings. One may perceive deep water as dark and cold, but it's a place that's brimming with life. It can also be treated as a figure for the cruel world as well as a mother's womb, all at the same time. It's both realistic and idealistic. Yun Woo managed to control and portray the many meanings that water carries, and he did so in the most outstanding manner, which is why we find ourselves reading his piece repeatedly, despite how uncomfortable it makes us feel. Most people will not be content with reading through 'River' just once," Dong Gil said fearlessly, and the crowd applauded him for an unknown reason. Then, Sang interjected quietly, "As for me, I found that pun… I mean, Yun Woo's writing, pretentious." Although he was filtering his words because he was onstage in front of his and Yun Woo's fans, there was a strong sense of self-awareness in his tone. "Yes, I agree." "Yep." "Same here." At the authors agreements of Sang's remark, Juho chuckled. 'Pretentious, huh?' Then, Dae Soo went on to explain, "Not everyone here might know this, but the decision to publish the magazine happened very quickly in the first place, and it was an impulsive one at that. In those moments, there was competitiveness, respect, and confidence for each of our own works, and it was in midst of that subtle mind game that we decided on the title for the magazine and its topic. Yun Woo was also there." Just as Dae Soo had said, Juho had also been at the scene. "Geun Woo, here, may be the least experienced among us, but we all know that Yun Woo's only eighteen years old. Us authors tend to reveal our true nature when it comes to writing, and nobody cared about things like experience or age, or left room to consider the idea or yielded to others. If you've read our magazine, you know what I mean. We were all sincerely desperate for attention when we wrote it." At that, the audience broke out into laughter, but it didn't last long because of what came out Sang's mouth. "Yet, this punk, I mean, Yun Woo, isn't intimidated by anything. Nothing fazes him. On top of that, he had no respect for the veteran authors. There was nothing but death in his piece, and if it had stopped there, I would have been more willing to put my feelings behind me. BUT, he goes the extra mile and picks a fight with other authors, saying: 'You probably don't have what it takes to write like me, even if we were writing about the same topic. Only I can write like this and only I can express things the way I do. Only my writing is capable of delivering such emotions, and whether you're an adult or not, your writing is nothing but an ornament, an ornament that accentuates my work. Do you understand?'" With that, the hall sank into silence. Sang had gotten quite worked up as he ranted, and Juho couldn't help but feel wronged. 'But I never said anything like that.' "But what really rubs me the wrong way is that Yun Woo never said any of those things explicitly. It's just my personal, emotional interpretation. He has no regards for his fellow authors, and nothing or no one else matters, except for himself and his own works." Sang couldn't have been further from the truth, and Juho was quite bothered by what he had said. Nobody knew how much he wrestled between veteran authors who had been writing for two decades. Although Juho tried to communicate his sentiment with his eyes, Sang was too self-absorbed at the moment to lock eyes with him. 'Sang Choi, of all people.' It was a comment that Juho would have much preferred to hear from somebody else.

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184 A Book Concert 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl What had been once a light-hearted and entertaining occasion had turned into something chaotic as everyone onstage each responded differently to Sang Choi's remark. The majority of the authors resonated deeply with him. "Man! That was satisfying!" Seo Joong said while strong displeasure appeared on Dong Gil's face, and Dae Soo was busy trying to figure out how to handle the situation. Geun Woo looked even more depressed. At that moment, San Jung, the quietest one onstage, raised her hand. "I, on the other hand, liked his piece the most," she said calmly. As if the bomb that had gone off a moment ago hadn't been big enough, she dropped an even bigger bomb. Often referred to as a rival of Yun Woo, her new book had put an end to his era. Despite her fame, which came with being the first Korean author to win a widely recognized award throughout the world, she had moved into the mountains, secluding herself from the rest of civilization in order to write. Fitting to her widely known image as an eccentric, she had blurted out words that most people wouldn't even dare think about. Although Sang's expression grew darker at San Jung's sudden remark, he didn't try to argue with her. After all, everyone was entitled to their opinions. "In what ways?" Joon Soo asked while wearing his trademark smile, which was the exact opposite of the expression on Sang's face. Thankfully, Joon Soo's smile had the effect of diffusing the tension. "That he wrote like someone who had died once." Although it was only temporary, the stage grew silent, and the expressions on the authors' faces grew darker. Juho was able to see them clearly from where he was. "Could you elaborate?" Dae Soo encouraged San Jung with an expression filled with interest. Then, looking indifferent, San Jung explained calmly, "There's nothing to elaborate. You've all read it. In which case, you should all be able to identify with me. The capacity Yun Woo displayed through this piece will be remembered for a long time through history." Although San Jung was looking in the direction of the audience, she didn't lock eyes with Juho, and when he looked at her, she was under a spotlight on a platform of a slightly higher elevation. Her eyelashes moved with her every blink, and Dae Soo moved on to another person as if left with no choice. "All right, then. How about you, Mr. Bong, our very own celebrity author?" Feeling awkward with Dae Soo's adjectives, he waved his hand in denial, and answered, "I strongly agree with Ms. Youn's opinion, as well as Mr. Choi's. On that note, I would like to share a story that I would not share outside of this event. There was a time when Yun Woo and I were having a conversation about an article that said that the veteran authors were struggling to pass Yun Woo." At that, the authors all laughed, simultaneously, since they all knew the result. "And one thing I would like to make clear is that Yun Woo was the person who brought up that subject first, sitting on the passenger seat while I drove." "Lucky!" a voice shouted at that moment, and although Juho looked back, he couldn't see where it had come from. Then, remaining calm, Joon Soo kept on with a smile, "Right? Anyway, he asked me what I thought about the article, and I answered negatively, staying true to how I actually felt at that moment. Writing isn't something that can be judged based solely on sales or ranks. Just because a book falls to a lower rank, it doesn't mean that the quality has suffered. Neither does it reflect on the author's skill as a writer." At that, Juho saw the older gentleman next to him nodding while letting out an affirming groan. "That was when I felt a little mischievous. In Mr. Choi's own words, I'm an author myself, so things like consideration for others or maturity go out the window when it comes to writing. Therefore, I said something completely unnecessary to him." 'Maybe it won't be entirely inaccurate, this time,' Juho thought. Joon Soo unfolded the story as if reenacting the events that occurred that day. To which, the audience, as well as the authors, listened intently. Juho thought back on that day. 'What did I say in response to the article?' "We'll find out," Joon Soo said with his smile fading slightly. "Can you get a feel for what kind of person he is from his piece? So, that's why I thought to myself, 'OK, then. Let's see what you got.'" Then, Yun Woo came out with his piece, and Joon Soo's hand flinched ever so slightly. "The moment I read the first sentence, that was when I realized that the journalist couldn't be further from the truth, and how unnecessary of a remark it was that I had made that day." "Wow, that's so unlike you, Joon Soo! You're becoming more like Geun Woo, aren't you?" "Why are you dragging me into this?" The authors behaved just as they had always had, even onstage, and the crowd exploded with applause as soon as Joon Soo finished his story, which was a stark contrast from the way they had responded to Sang Choi. Maybe Joon Soo's popularity had something to do with it, or the audience also knew that Sang would grow cocky when encouraged. Then, Mideum raised her hand in order to speak. "I'd like to shed some light on the two most distinguishable characters, the brother and the sister." "Ah," the authors let out. "Yes, can't forget about them," Dae Soo said, and Sang Jung nodded in agreement. Appearing very briefly toward the end of the story, the two characters were a crucial, yet clever device within the story. Mideum gave her interpretation, "When the two make their appearance, the time in the story speeds up. Under the author's careful calculation, the sentences become shorter and more concise, and this is where we can really feel the different dynamics within this short story. The climax in the later part of the story becomes clearer through the two characters, and it gives the readers the impression that they are the incarnation of death itself, as if they had come to mark the end of the story." With that, her eyes shone with excitement, and that excitement spread throughout her face, looking like she was itching to shout out the truth. By the time her excitement had reached its peak, a voice intervened, "I disagree." It was Seo Joong, who had been sitting the farthest from her, and caught off guard by his interference, Mideum stared at him with widened eyes. "They not only give the impression that the story is coming to an end, but also the implication of a new beginning. Especially the pen and paper in the brother's hands." At that, Dong Gil nodded ever so slightly, indicating that he was reluctantly agreeing with Seo Joong over Mideum. "The narrator reminisces back to a novel based on the two objects in the boy's hands, imagining the novel he would write when he grows up. This can be interpreted as the boy having an infinite potential, and what he writes can be interpreted as a version of hope." Then, Seo Joong continued after clearing his throat. "Based on the two sibling's personalities in a story about the death of a person, I think their images are actually contradictory to the one they let on. Besides, it's more interesting that way." Then, Mideum smiled as if showing that she was mature enough to accept Seo Joong's opinion. However, the subtle twitch on the corner of her mouth indicated that she was struggling internally. "Yun Woo had to be intentional when he made the child so weak and frail," she said, standing her ground. Then, Seo Joong loosened his tie slightly, saying, "Maybe the author wanted to convey that even a weak and frail person like him can live on?" "I disagree. I think we can approach it more directly, and think about the child who's terminally ill." "I don't know. I didn't get that impression, at all." "Oh, C'mon, Seo Joong! Think about it!" Then, Dae Soo interjected. "Isn't this fun? As you can see, there are so many different ways to interpret a novel." Judging that the debate wasn't going to be any more rational, and that Mideum's patience was reaching its limit, Dae Soo candidly moved on to the next segment of the concert. "Listening to authors talk gets boring after a while, so why don't we take this time and interact with them? Feel free to ask anything, including your own interpretation. If you wish to speak, please raise your hand." The audience fell into an awkward silence, and having expected it, Dae Soo rose from her seat and pointed at a random member of the audience. "You there, sir. Do you have any questions?" Rather than being caught off guard and flustered, the man jumped up from his seat with excitement and asked in a loud voice, "My daughter's a big Yun Woo fan. Can you tell me what he looks like?" There was a slight accent in his speech, as if he spoke a different dialect, and at the mention of Yun Woo's name, the crowd went wild. At that point, Dae Soo pretended to be in a dilemma with exaggeration, and Juho joined in with the rest of the crows, shouting, "Tell us! Tell us!" At that, all of the authors onstage responded with blank stares into the distance. Not only were there no pictures of him to show, but anything that had to do with Yun Woo was a sensitive topic. It was quite cumbersome. "Let's just say that he's pretty good looking?" Seo Joong asked Dong Gil out loud, on purpose. "One's bound to be disappointed when they actually see him in person," Dong Gil calmly reminded him of the reality. Then, Sang waved his hand in disagreement, saying, "Whether people get disappointed or not when they meet Yun Woo in person isn't our business. Besides, everyone has their own image of him in their heads, right?" Therefore, no matter how high of an expectation a fan had when they met the young author in person, that meant that the responsibility fell solely on him. Then, Mideum rose from her seat and shouted, "He's so handsome! Second to none! Dreamlike! It'll be beyond your expectations!" Juho hoped desperately that that rumor wouldn't spread. While he looked away from the stage for a little while, a member of the audience raised their hand, a woman who had dyed her hair yellow. "I have a question for Ms. Choo," the woman said clearly. Having just shouted with excitement a moment ago, Mideum sat back down and listened to her question. "There was a character based on Yun Woo..." At that, the crowd lit up once again. "... I'd like to know exactly how it's based on Yun Woo, and how it came about." "Ohh. Great question!" Mideum said as she paused to think for a brief time, and after a while, she answered cautiously, "The book hasn't been published yet, and we'll have to have a whole 'nother concert if I were to get to it all. A lot happened until I reached the decision to include the character in the novel. So, in short, I visited his studio in person." Yun Woo's studio. At that piece of information veiled in mystery, the audience grew all the more excited. "I gotta admit, there is some difference between the Yun Woo I've met and the character in my book, who is based on him. But, what I can say is that there is a place in the novel that's based on him and his studio. Curious? I suggest that you wait until the book comes out." Mideum wrapped up her turn with a light-hearted joke. It was clear that she was trying hard not to repeat the same mistake as before. However, after a brief time thinking, she added, "If I were to add one more thing… Yun Woo is an author who writes an incredible amount, to the point of leaving me in shock. That's it, for now." Looking satisfied, the woman in the audience sat back down. There were many people willing to ask questions, and after looking around for a little while, Dae Soo picked a person at random.

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185 A Book Concert 4

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl The member of the audience Dae Soo had chosen was a man who seemed to be a university student. He was wearing a plaid shirt, and had a face that emanated excitement. Because of that, he talked excessively fast. "Hi! So, I've read every book written by every single author here, and because you guys made a club together and published a literary magazine, I can confidently say that I'm living the happiest time in my life." His voice was shaking uncontrollably, making it difficult for the listeners to understand. So, Dae Soo laughed heartily and reassured him, saying that he could speak slower. "So, I'm curious as to how you guys came together? And uh… and… I'd like to know how you guys came to decide on forming a club, in detail." As he barely managed to ask his question, the authors locked eyes with each other briefly and agreed that it would be best to have Dae Soo answer the question as the leader of the group. She didn't deny it. "Uh… First off, we knew each other before we made our club. We would give each other tips or share ideas over a meal occasionally. Oh! This is before the club, by the way, BEFORE we met Yun Woo, to be more precise." Then, Dae Soo told the story of how the authors came together before they officially made the club. "Nothing fancy. We were just friends and companions, always talking about silly things, but that's when this mysteriously strange author showed up out of nowhere, as if by coincidence or by fate." "It was Yun Woo," Dong Gil said from behind, and looking in his direction, Dae Soo reminisced about the time when Yun Woo first appeared. Many people took interest in the young genius author, including publishers, readers, the masses, and other authors. The first person to reach out to him was Dong Gil. He had gone to him in person, and although he had been hearing about the young author, it had never occurred to him that he wanted to get to know him better over a meal. After all, Yun Woo was rather young, and the book he had published was merely a debut title. However, Yun Woo's presence began to grow over time, and those who had talked to him in person described him as quite the interesting person, which aroused Dong Gil's interest as well. "So, I invited him to our group, and the nine of us, including the eight of us onstage, ended up having a meal together. Authors have a strong tendency to want to see things for themselves before they actually believe in something." Then, after a brief pause, Dae Soo continued, "You said you wanted to know how we came to decide to form a club in more detail, right? I realize that this is becoming more and more about Yun Woo, but I'll just tell you anyway. While the nine of us were talking about Yun Woo's school life, we ended up obsessing over this one word, and just like that, we made the impulsive decision to form a club and publish a literary magazine. We are also aware of each other's talents." With that, Dae Soo smiled confidently. "So, in conclusion, the decision to form a club was an impulsive and emotional one. There was alcohol involved that day, and there were a handful of people on the scene who we hadn't seen in a long time, so we all stayed true to our emotions and put our idea into action. And now, we're having a concert of our own, meeting our fans. It seems like it wasn't such a terrible idea, after all." Then, the crowd exploded applause, and Dae Soo played along, pretending to be bashful. From then on, a number of questions followed about the personal lives of the authors, things that happened while writing, and how to write better. With the exception of Yun Woo, the eight authors answered each and every question with sincerity and, at times, with light-hearted jokes. Sitting quietly in his seat, Juho watched the authors interacting with their fans. Then, he locked eyes with Dae Soo. "'Scuse me, sir" Despite being aware that the voice was calling for him, Juho looked around in every direction, except in the direction where the voice was coming from. It was a nonverbal gesture, indicating that he didn't want to be bothered. "'Scuse me, sir. You, looking around," Dae Soo said insistently. She wasn't going to back down. "... Me?" "Yes, you." The audience took interest as the host picked a person at random and out of nowhere. Then, he rose from his seat slowly, and the eight authors onstage fixed their eyes on him. With the bright spotlight that shone on the stage, Juho found their gaze even more uncomfortable. "OK, then. Hope nobody minds if I were to pop the last question." At that, the crowd laughed light-heartedly, relieved that the somewhat-uncomfortable segment was finally coming to an end. "A lot of the questions were about Yun Woo, and I understand since I'm curious myself. Yun Woo is quite mysterious, even among the authors. So, on that note, I wanted to ask…" Then, looking straight at him, Dae Soo asked, "How do you think he was able to write a piece like that?" "Oh, the short story?" Juho answered in a slight delay, and just like the other authors onstage, Dae Soo looked at the young author who had been hiding in the crowd. With the exception of the members of the audience, who were oblivious to Juho's identity, the eight authors focused on the young author's answer. The occasion would call for an answer that was closest to the truth, which would then represent Yun Woo. Then, standing in the dark, Yun Woo opened his mouth. "I'm not sure," Juho answered in a dull voice. There was no fluctuation in his voice. "Maybe he's actually died once?" Despite the quiet laughter breaking out in the audience, nobody laughed or said a word onstage, and by the time the laughter died down, Sang Choi spoke up. "That's not possible." Although he wasn't very respectful in the way he addressed the member of the audience, nobody called him out for it since they were all occupied with something else. "But, isn't that what you felt, though? 'It's as if it was written by someone who has died once.'" Just as Juho had said, the short story was incredibly relatable and realistic because it portrayed death in the purest and most detailed manner, giving the readers an impression that they were actually watching someone on the verge of death. Although it was relatable and immersive, the line had been drawn clearly. It was the character in the story who was drifting toward death, not the readers, which only amplified the fear. The terror came flooding in and left the readers helpless, wanting to cling to their mothers in tears like children waiting to see the doctor. They were terrified of the moment that was drawing near. The smell of disinfectant and the doctor's office behind the tightly shut door. The wailing coming from behind the door left those in waiting anxious. The story only pushed its readers thus far, like a knife that stopped drawing closer all of a sudden, just moments before touching the victim's throat. The door to the doctor's office remained closed, never to open again, leaving no room for readers to recover or let their guard down. The author knew everything there was to know about the scene, from the direction to the hospital to the wait time, and everything that took place in the hospital. 'Wait here. Don't come any closer. This is as far as you can come.' There was no way the readers could deny the powerful sentences in the story. An author was capable of writing a story like that only in one of two cases: either as a person with firsthand experience, who thoroughly understood the situation, or an incredibly talented con-artist, capable of tricking the entire world. In either case, the victims knew only one thing: they knew it all along. "So, that's why I think Yun Woo is someone who has died once." The young author said nonchalantly, and his voice reverberated throughout the dark concert hall. It was impossible to discern whether he was lying or telling the truth. "In that case, how do you think he was able to come back from the dead?" Dae Soo asked the last question, and Yun Woo immersed himself in thought for a brief time, standing somewhere neither bright nor dark. Then, looking up, he locked eyes with the host, standing closer to the light than anyone in the audience. "Maybe it's because he's still writing." Juho wondered how things would look from where Dae Soo was, but soon, concluded that it had to be entirely different from what he was seeing from where he was. While some clicked their tongues in pity, and others chuckled quietly, Dae Soo sighed quietly. "Well, to be honest with you, I preferred all the other pieces in the magazine over Yun Woo's. May I sit back down?" "... Yes, you may." It was only fair that he, as the author, couldn't experience his own work in the same way his readers did. And for that reason, the shock and the terror of the readers would forever remain a mystery. Never to experience the power of his own work, Yun Woo would only have an intellectual understanding of the overwhelmingly emotional experience of his readers. From then on, the concert was smooth sail, and Dae Soo tried hard not to look at Yun Woo, who was still hiding in the audience. --- Under a bright light, there were unique-looking clothes scattered about in a neatly organized space. Wearing her pants waist-high, the owner of those clothes took pictures of the concert ticket and its poster. Then, she sat in front of her computer and began to type away at the bulletin board in Yun Woo's fancafe. Her most recent post had been on her prediction of Yun Woo's appearance at the book concert, and now, she was writing a follow-up post as a means to update the members of the cafe. "Unfortunately, there were only eight seats onstage." She started off with the first thing that she had noticed. Unfortunately, there had been no seat prepared for Yun Woo. Although gnashing her teeth, she wrote away while maintaining the proper attitude of a true fan, saying that she would embrace the circumstances of her favorite author, even if it came with disappointment. Thankfully, the post eventually became more about how entertaining the concert had been, so the disappointment began to fade. On top of that… "The bits of information about Yun Woo told by the authors were so much more than what I could've asked for, and I'm so glad I went. For those who couldn't get their tickets in time, I offer my deepest words of consolation." Rather than being mischievous and cruel, she decided to share with the members snippets of what she had learned of Yun Woo at the concert, from Yun Woo's appearance to personality, and the mindset of authors at the concert who had evaluated his work. It was quite serious. Then, she revisited her experience at the concert hall and the thoughts the authors had expressed during the concert. Having answered each and every question with utmost sincerity, every author had a clear sense of direction in their craft, and they had all recognized Yun Woo as a fellow author. At one point of the concert, she couldn't help but shout "Lucky!" while listening to Joon Soo share his story about Yun Woo because of how close they seemed to be to each other. In hindsight, it was a moment that she never wanted to revisit. "But it's what happened toward the end that still bothers me." With that, she stopped typing and referred to one of her older posts. 'Yun Woo WILL be there!' It had been a prediction that had been no more than mere delusion. Knowing that the concert was about the literary magazine 'The Beginning and the End' and that Yun Woo would have to attend as an author who had partaken in it, the post was filled with her confidence. 'Was he really not there?' At first, Seo Joong had made a remark that had sounded like a light-hearted joke, "He might still be watching us from somewhere." On top of that, the fact that Dae Soo would choose a person at random out of nowhere toward the end bothered the avid fan. Of course, that wasn't the first time she did it, but previously, it had been when nobody wanted to speak up and ask questions. Something was different between the two occasions, and the second time around, Dae Soo had chosen someone out of nowhere as if trying to break the flow, before anybody else had the chance to raise their hand. Then, the person she chose happened to be a male student who seemed like he would be around the same age as Yun Woo. "Maybe I've been reading the Dr. Dong series too much. I can't stop picking at it." Ever since learning that there was a character in the book that was based on Yun Woo, the avid fan had been binge reading the Dr. Dong books and had gone on to splurge on the entire series at once. From then on, she often found herself playing the detective, and her most recent conjecture wasn't entirely absurd. There was a cause to every effect, which, according to Dr. Dong's own words, was the very foundation of detective work. "There has to be a reason for why she chose him of all people." It just so happened that the student chosen by Dae Soo had had rather profound answers, and the authors onstage were also wearing the most peculiar looks. Although, the assumption that the student was Yun Woo would make everyone a suspect. After contemplating for a little while, she resumed typing, writing that there was a possibility that Yun Woo had attended the concert as a member of the audience. Despite feeling tired, she finished writing and included the pictures of the concert ticket and a number of pictures she had taken at the venue, each clearly focusing on certain objects. Then, she sighed with disappointment. "Maybe I should've just taken more pictures inside, anyway." A picture of the student she suspected of being Yun Woo. However, taking photos in the concert hall was prohibited, and that had prevented her from effectively taking out her camera. Besides, she had no proof that the student actually was Yun Woo and, needless to say, she lacked a permit to take photos. Being an ordinary, timid citizen, she went to sleep, comforting herself that she had made the right choice amid her deep regrets.

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186 The Opposite of Plummeting

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "The Book Concert Ends in a Massive Success! Eight Authors on the Subject of Death. Their Portrayal in 'The Beginning and the End?'" "Yun Woo, Nowhere to be Found at the Concert, Left Fans Disappointed." "An Author Recognized by San Jung Youn, Yun Woo Writes the Most Superior Piece Out of the Nine Pieces. Authors Respond." "Authors' Responses to Questions Regarding Yun Woo. Exposing Yun Woo's identity!" "The Secret of Yun Woo. How Did He Write 'River?' A Closer Look." "All the Hottest Authors in One Place? A Subtle Mind Game between San Jung Youn and Joon Soo Bong. Authors Fight for Yun Woo's Position." "Yun Woo and the Intensity of His Work According to the Authors. The Finest of this Generation." "Mideum Testified about Yun Woo's Studio? How Much Does He Write?" "Yun Woo Hid in the Audience the Entire Time? The Controversial Review from Fans - 'He Might Have Been in the Audience.' Did Any of the Eight Give a Subtle Hint? Was Yun Woo Really There?" "Yun Woo Likely Attended as an Audience Member. Authors Leave Answers Open. 'Was He Sitting Next to Me?'" "There was a student sitting next to me at the concert! It would've been so cool if he was Yun Woo." "I sat next to some grandpa. No hope there." "You never know. Who knows if that's Yun Woo?" "There was a grandma sitting next to me. Could it be…...?!?" "Normally, I would find things like this absurd, but this time, I actually find myself doubting it. That piece was NOT the work of an eighteen-year-old." "Everyone who read it will agree. Yun Woo's writing is way beyond his age, already." "Oh, right. I forgot he was eighteen. I'm reading 'River' for the twentieth time, and it still sends chills down my spine. It's not even a thriller or anything." "I heard Joon Soo Bong's interpretation of 'River' at the concert, and apparently, it might be talking about the society we live in. In other words, the death in the book is the death that we will all experience in the future." "I have no clue what that means. Well, in any case, you're saying that his piece was the best out of the nine, right?" "Correct." "Yep." ""Eh, that sounds kind of rash. I mean, wasn't San Jung Youn's pretty good? I'm so thankful that she came out with a new piece so soon."" "It does feel kind of floaty though. There's something about it that makes it not as relatable as Yun Woo's." "Seriously? Do you know anything about literature?" "Hey man, take a chill pill. It's just an opinion. No need to get all worked up." "I agree. In that case, every single author who wrote in that magazine has at least a decade of experience, so they had to be above average, at the very least." "Yet, Yun Woo managed to secure his place among those veteran authors." "Even San Jung Youn recognized him." "If writing was something that was judged solely on experience, Yun Woo would be way at the bottom. Writing has nothing to do with age or experience." "What the heck? Did you just say that? This is what happens when you judge Korean literature in its entirety based solely on Yun Woo. We don't find prodigies in the literary world anymore for a reason, and Yun Woo was just lucky, just like his name, 'Coincidence.' People aren't doubting his age for no reason." "All that matters is how immersive a book is. On that note, I vote Yun Woo." "Ditto." "Second that." "No matter what Yun Woo writes from now on, he won't be able to outdo 'River.'" Sitting under a tree, Juho stared out at the schoolyard in the distance. As the recess bell rang, the kids went their own ways while in their P.E clothes, playing soccer, dodgeball, or basketball. "Don't they ever get tired?" Seo Kwang murmured. Although he was rather distant from physical activities, he couldn't bring books to read in P.E, so with his legs crossed while resting his chin on his hand, he watched the students who were more active than him from afar. "I mean, recess isn't even that long, but they still run out of their classes with a ball in their hands. They eat lunch faster so that they can play soccer, right? I feel like they come to school to run around in the schoolyard," Seo Kwang said, staring at them as if looking at someone from another world. At that, Juho said mockingly, "They'd probably say something similar to what you said: 'Doesn't he ever get tired of reading?'" "What?! When??" "When you read." To be more precise… "I'm just going off of what I've seen so far. Recess isn't even that long, but the first thing you do is to take out a book and read. You read while eating and during class, behind the textbook. They might feel like you come to school to read." "Those pricks," Seo Kwang let out, unaware that he was making a fool out of himself. To which... "Right?" … Juho simply agreed, quietly. "They're freshmen, right?" Seo Kwang asked as he turned his head, and just like he had said, those who had gathered around in the schoolyard were freshmen. Although they had a P.E teacher, he simply allowed them to have free time after leading a brief stretching session. Because the sophomores had taken over the schoolyard, the freshmen were mostly hanging out in the corner of the yard, talking. "Wait, isn't that Bo Suk?" At that moment, Juho recognized the protruding gem among the group. At which point, that gem began to walk straight through the swarm of sophomores playing sports. Her hair moved about busily. "Yep. That's her." "She's coming our way, right?" Because she had already arrived, there was no need for confirmation. Having ran in their direction, she stopped in front of Juho and bowed. "Hello!" she greeted the two with confidence. As Juho pointed out to her that there was sand on her knees, she brushed them off impatiently. Then, sitting next to Seo Kwang, she asked Juho out of nowhere, "You're a genius, right, Juho?" At that, having been staring absentmindedly at the pull-up bars in the distance, Juho turned his head toward her, but what came into view was the back of Seo Kwang's head. "Do you have any idea of how stupid this guy is? You'll be shocked when you see his linguistics grades," Seo Kwang said as if trying to obliterate the innocent delusion of the freshman. Then, as Juho, too, remembered his linguistics grades, he couldn't say otherwise. At which point, Bo Suk shook her head, adding, "Oh, no. Not that. What else can I mean when I say that he's a genius?" It was brutal honesty, but she didn't stop there. "So, you're a genius, right?" At the simple question, Juho answered with a question, "If I say that I am, does that mean I really am a genius?" "Uh… I guess so? Now that you mention it, what would that mean for actual geniuses, then?" Bo Suk said, blinking in confusion, and at that, an impatient look appeared on Seo Kwang's face. "You just know. 'Oh, yeah. This person's a genius,' or 'Oh. This guy's an idiot.'" Because there was no certificate of any sort that would prove that one was a genius, those around them had to rely on their instincts as their primary indicator, and because of that, the results were subjective. Then, after a brief thought, Bo Suk went on to explain why she brought up the subject, "So, while I was talking to my friends, things like colleges and careers came up, and that's where we branched off to things like talents and effort." "Happens often." "Then, I thought of you because I, personally, consider authors to be a genius." At that moment, Juho locked eyes with her. "I thought that you were the first genius I had seen in person." "... Really?" "But the standards don't seem to be all that impressive. Maybe there are more geniuses in this world than I thought." At that, Seo Kwang shook his head, pitying the naive freshman. "There's nothing stricter or more cumbersome than meeting subjective standards. It takes sacrifice of your pride and being exceptionally outstanding on something." "What does that mean?" "Why do you think that this guy is the only genius you've ever met in your entire life when there might be more geniuses in this world than you thought? It's because you've already made up your mind not to consider just anybody a genius." Bo Suk blinked while thinking back on the time when she read Yun Woo's story for the first time. What had come out of her ahead between pride or mindset had been an exclamation. "That's my case, anyway. I have high standards," Seo Kwang said as a way to wrap up the conversation. Considering the number of books he had read up to that point, it only made sense that he would have high standards. "I concur," Bo Suk said. She was honest, and being honest with oneself was a powerful tool that served them well in life. From her answer, Juho thought, 'She'll be a good writer.' At which point, Bo Suk asked again, "Well, do you consider yourself to be a genius, Juho?" The question was better-phrased that time, and Juho looked at the other students, who were wiping their sweat with their clothes after running around the schoolyard. "I still have a ways to go." "C'mon, now." "Well, that was disappointing." Seo Kwang and Bo Suk said, simultaneously. Then, she directed her question to another person. Looking at Seo Kwang, she asked, "Do YOU think that Juho is a genius?" At that, Juho looked at his friend, or more precisely, the back of his friend's head, which answered, "I think he still is." "Still is?" Bo Suk asked, and the head nodded affirmingly. "I think he is a genius still. I can't think of another word that would describe him. At least, in that field, anyway." "Does that mean that there could be a time when you think otherwise? Can you lose the title genius, kind of like a fallen genius?" It was more than possible, and Juho's flinching hand was proving that. Then, the head said quietly, "We'll see when the time comes." At that, Bo Suk briefly lowered her head as if she understood, but soon, a puzzled look appeared on her face. "Then, what's above a genius? What would be the opposite of plummeting?" At the seemingly naive question, Seo Kwang sneered while Juho listened to their conversation quietly. "What's the point of knowing either of those? Words don't come with numbers, you know." Instead, every word carried its own, distinct feel. They had shape, smell, flavor, and texture, allowing them to dig deeper into people's hearts. Something slightly greater than the word genius. Something slightly more dated. Something that seemed wiser and more admirable. "I don't know." "Well, my friend, you have a lot more writing to do," Seo Kwang said, bragging. One could think that he was Yun Woo. Seo Kwang was aware of the readers' evaluations of Yun Woo's new short story, 'River,' which was: The best work by Yun Woo, yet. At the same time, there were those who went even further, saying that Yun Woo's skill had finally reached its limit and that he had written the masterpiece of his life, as if he wouldn't be able to outdo himself in the future. Although it was subtle, there was covet and jealousy behind those words, which hoped for Yun Woo's downfall. Then, he remembered his meeting with Nam Kyung not too long ago, who had also expressed concerns, saying that Juho could take his time writing his next piece in order to comfort him about something. Jang Mi and Nabi had behaved in the exact same manner, and although they weren't explicit about it, other fellow authors had to be feeling the same way. They had to be wondering if he was OK after writing such an intense piece with little regard for emotional consequences, if he was struggling with the weight of it. They had to be wondering if he would be able to surpass his own achievement. Whether it was for better or for worse, Juho was OK because he had no idea if what he had written was good or not. After sending his manuscript of 'River' to Dae Soo, Juho wasn't able to sleep for an entire week, and he knew that it was nowhere near enough to earn him the title which he yearned for, The Great Storyteller. He knew he could do better… Probably. "Me too," Juho said, and Seo Kwang and Bo Suk looked at him. "I think I need to write more, too." At that moment, a stark contrast appeared in their expressions, but Juho paid no attention to them. There were two people hanging on the pull-up bar, and the teacher was dozing off while sitting on a chair of mysterious origin. It was a battle without a referee. "Yeah, sure, don't mind us, or anybody around you for that matter. Ugh. It's like we have to worry FOR you." "That's incredible, Juho. You're just that word I was looking for: the one above genius. Hm… like… a cloud!" "Didn't you say they looked like stools, last time?" "I sure did." Then, the bell rang, and the three rose from their seats under the tree.

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187 A Way to Remember 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "OK. I want you to eat these and describe them in words," Mr. Moon said as he placed an array of different food on the desk. Knowing what the training was about by experience, the veteran club members surrounded the desk, each wearing a welcoming expression. An apple, a variety of snacks, paprika, salt, sugar, a macaron, dried squid, dried filefish, roasted egg, sikhye, Coke, green tea, red ginseng, and green grape- flavored candy. (TL's Note: sikhye is a sweet, traditional Korean beverage that is made with fermented rice, and it's typically served ice cold in the summer.) "They all look so good!" "Well, you guys don't get any," Mr. Moon said in order to prevent the rest of the club members from eating the food on the desk, and of course, he was met with backlash. "Oh, c'mon! That's so much food!" "Yeah! Can we have just a little bit, Mr. Moon? We've been looking hard for things to write about, and I think I can use more training right about now." Sun Hwa and Seo Kwang shouted in turn, raising their hands. Then, looking at his cumbersome pupils, Mr. Moon, said, "Fine. As long as Bo Suk is finished." "Yes!" "And this is training, so I expect a piece from you all." "You got it!" Ecstatic that they would get to eat, the club members began to pressure the freshman nonverbally. However, Bo Suk paid no attention to them since she was busy trying to decide what to eat first. Then, Sun Hwa said, "Go for the filefish." "No, go with the red ginseng." "Red ginseng!? Are you kidding?! C'mon now, Bo Suk. Why don't you start with a nice sip of that sikhye?" "Man, I want the apple." Listening to what sounded like suggestions or preferences, Bo Suk chose an item from the desk: salt. "Of all things?" "Man, you're weird, too." Although Sun Hwa and Seo Kwang muttered one after the other, her decision was rather wise in Juho's eyes. The simple flavor of salt would make it much easier to describe it into words. Then, Bo Suk dipped her pinky in the salt and brought it up to her mouth. "Salty." Though simple, there were no better words to describe salt. At that, Mr. Moon reminded her of the rule of having to come up with three words for each of her choices after some thought. Then, Bo Suk's face turned serious, and she tasted the salt yet again. "It's just salty." "What else?" "Hm… maybe bitter, or astringent?" "What else?" Due to her teacher's urging, she focused on the flavors in her mouth. "Pungent." "OK, next." Her next choice was the dried squid, from which she ripped off one of its legs and put it in her mouth, chewing. "Chewy, a little fishy, and… well, salty. I can't repeat words, can I?" "Nope." "Then, savory." "OK. Next." With that, she took turns tasting each item on the desk, and with their eyes fixed on her, the veteran members smacked their lips impatiently. While Bo Suk had made steady progress, the last item proved to be a challenge. "Grapes, green grapes, and… more green grapes." "You can do better than that." As Bo Suk rolled the candy around in her mouth, her eyes rolled with it. "Rigid." "You already said that." "Hard." At that, her cheek bulged out with the candy. "Green grape- flavored." "OK, last one." Clenching her hands into fists, Bom rooted for her, who seemed to be struggling to think of other words aside from "green grape- flavored." It was only natural since that was the flavor of the candy. Besides, her vocabulary had long been depleted by that point. "You can do it, Bo Suk." What the freshman really needed to realize was that the training wasn't intended for developing a sensitive palette. Mr. Moon was training her in describing what she was eating, and there was no restriction to the way she could choose to go about it. No matter what the wrapper said about the flavor of the candy, if one believed it tasted like sardines, then it became a sardine-flavored candy. What others would taste was of no importance. After all, Bo Suk was the person with the choice of accepting the signal being sent to her brain from her tongue and, lastly, turning that into words. Of course, even in the literary world, it was essential for one to have a reasonable basis for their beliefs, since, without it, they would most likely be disregarded by those around them and treated as if they were in need of medical attention. Thankfully, Bo Suk was about to overcome her obstacle… "Fruit-flavored." … although, she still didn't quite understand the intent of the training. Fortunately, after a brief time thinking, Mr. Moon decided that she had done quite well for her first time and let her move on. From words to sentences, from sentences to literature, and eventually, she'd grow more mature as a writer. "NOW, can we eat??" Baron asked, holding a piece of dried filefish in his hand. At that, Mr. Moon said, tearing off a piece of the dried squid, "Yes, you can. Leave some for me." "Yes!" Just like that, the Literature Club started a spontaneous party. Biting into an scrumptiously red apple, Juho wondered if the fruit in his hand and mouth could be a hint for his next piece. From then on, he wrote habitually, in anticipation of a piece that would somehow resemble a ripe apple. --- "Mideum Choo Returns with the Seventh Volume of the Dr. Dong Series." "Once Controversial, the Character Based on Yun Woo in the Dr. Dong Series Finally Makes an Appearance." "The Shocking Short Story. Hints about Yun Woo?" "Yun Woo According to Mideum Choo." "Yun Woo, of 'River.' Fans on Their Toes about the Mysterious Author. Who is He?" "Is this the book where Yun Woo appears?" "At first, I read one volume just to see what the character was about, but now, I ended up buying the whole series. It's freakin' amazing!" "The Dr. Dong series is popular in Japan, too. Mideum has always been famous, and every detective novel buff knows her." "Seems like she owes one to Yun Woo. She had to have spilled the beans on purpose!" "Have you been living under a rock or something? It was the journalist's fault." "But is this Yun Woo in the book really Yun Woo?" "They have to be different. Besides, it's fiction." "The character's an arrogant a-hole. I think he's even less likable than Dr. Dong." "Well, in either case, they're both probably loaded. His books have sold millions." "Don't you think Mideum and Yun Woo are probably pretty close? They're in the same club and they even published a magazine together." "I heard she even interviewed him. In which case, they would be pretty close. Maybe he's actually pretty similar to the character. Who knows?" "Honestly, Yun Woo stood out the most in 'The Beginning and the End.'" "I see this comment everywhere" "I saw a clip of Pyung Jin Lee interpreting 'River,' and even he was surprised. He's an expert! People are saying it's Yun Woo's best work, yet." "I'm just glad that Yun Woo is a prolific writer." "His piece was inherently different from San Jung's, almost like the difference between ideals and reality. If San Jung's style was ambiguous and dream-like, Yun Woo's was clear-cut and realistic in the way he portrayed death. What's even more shocking here is that he's only been around for eighteen years." "Who the heck is he anyway? An alien?" "I tried asking the other authors in the club, but even they wouldn't give me anything, saying, 'We prefer to keep that to ourselves.' I swear, Sang Young Ju and his random catchphrase." --- 'Is this really what people think of me?' Juho was reading Mideum's new book in the subway, and just as she had announced previously, the character was arrogant beyond belief. First, he was wealthy and lived in a large, luxurious house. It was as if pouring oil on the fire, like there weren't enough people who believed Yun Woo had great wealth already. On top of that, the character had never seen a single piece to the end in his entire career. His stories stopped midway, and there was no trace of patience in him. Yet, he proudly introduced himself as an author to others. Then, Juho flipped a page, and Dr. Dong asked, "With what right?" To which, the author answered, "I'll write 'til the day I die. Besides, what's so important about genre or length in a book? What else would you call me, if not an author?" "Useless piece of trash," Dr. Dong let out. Just as Mideum had shared during the book concert, the author's room really was similar to Juho's, filled with manuscript paper covering the walls. "Next stop, is…" Taking his eyes off the book, Juho checked the station at which the train was stopping. Since he had to get off the train, he rose from his seat and shoved the book into his backpack. Then, exiting the station, he walked through the streets that he was well acquainted with, and up the hills, from where Yun Seo's studio, private institute and home appeared. Unlike the busy streets that he had previously been in, the scenery of the house gave one the illusion that they were in the countryside. Then, a dog barked in the distance, indicating that Juho was nearly there. Lastly, while walking up a slanted alleyway, a group of people came rushing down. Considering how Yun Seo's house had always been the only building at the top of the hill, they had to be her students. In the narrow alleyway, Juho stepped aside in order to let the crowd through, who were in a group of twelve, and a woman in the very front passed by in a hurry, greeting him. Although they were quickly walking down the alleyway, they all seemed joyful. Looking attentively at them, Juho, too, made haste. "Hello, Mrs. Baek." Before even going inside, Juho ran into Yun Seo waving at him while sitting on a flat bench in the front yard. "You're wearing your uniform, today?" "Yes. I'm coming straight from school." She had been inviting Juho for dinner from time to time, and he had come with the expectation that he would be able to think of the topic for his next piece, which was struggling with. Unlike usual, Juho looked at the buildings in the distance before him and Yun Seo and asked, "What's with the paint and the canvas?" Yun Seo was sitting in front of an easel, and while Juho wondered if she painted as a hobby, Yun Seo answered, "It's teaching material. We painted today, and this is mine." Then, she showed Juho a painting of a big moon. "That's one peculiar-looking moon," Juho said honestly, noticing that the moon in the painting was crooked. "There's a strong sense of irregularity. I think it's actually artistic." "Right? You know what you're talking about!" In any case, it was rather peculiar that there was painting involved in a writing lesson. On the other hand, she had taught Mr. Moon, which made the peculiarity somewhat normal. Then, Joon Soo came out of the house. "Oh, hey! I see that you're in your uniform!" Joon Soo said, looking at Juho's uniform. At which point, Juho repeated what he had said to Yun Seo, "I came straight from school." "Did you paint too, Joon Soo?" "Yes, I have, before." Then, looking at the painting, Juho asked, "Does it really help you write?" "In some ways, yes," Joon Soo said, and Yun Seo chimed in, "Painting and writing have a lot in common. One observes an object and draws what's within it. You can see it often in eastern paintings. The reason our ancestors didn't vary in contrasts of color had nothing to do with their skill or with them being unaware of the concept of it. It was an intentional decision to express the magnificent spirit that lay within an object, which couldn't be altered by light." An object changed its shape depending on the light. When the sun was up high, the shadows tended to be shorter and stouter, and while the sunset dyed everything in red, the dark removed any shape that had once existed. Juho remembered finding a western painting that portrayed an object that changed its shape over time. 'It's fascinating how an object changes its shape depending on the perspective and the movement of the light, even when viewed from the same angle,' Juho thought as he remembered a few eastern paintings in his head that didn't utilize any contrast of color. The technique was often used in painting portraits because the painters placed a higher value in portraying the noble spirit that resided deep within the person they were painting, which would remain unaffected by the sun. In the sense that it involved portraying things that couldn't be seen with bare eyes, painting and writing shared a lot in common. "Whenever I hold a brush instead of a pen like this, I get a better understanding of what I do as a writer, and it allows me to find new inspiration. Besides, it's a good way to unwind." It was quite intriguing, and it sounded like it would be a lot of fun. Then, Juho remembered the apparent joy on the faces of the twelve he had previously run into in the alleyway. "Would you like to try?" "Me?" "Yes. There's plenty of paper," Yun Seo said, moving aside from the easel. Where she had been sitting, there was a palette with a variety of paints on it, as well as a set of brushes, and a small pail. Then, being the tactful person he was, Joon Soo handed him a clean, four-by-six sheet of paper. "I'll take your bag." Although Juho had yet to say a word, everything happened swiftly and efficiently. The teamwork of the teacher and her pupil was truly impressive. And because he didn't have a reason to decline, Juho sat in Yun Seo's place willingly and placed the paper on the black, aluminum easel. "So, what am I doing?" "You paint. Anything you'd like. Just like writing." Just like writing. Writers observed what lay within an object and portrayed that in their own way. Although Juho had been creating sentences out of words up to that point, he had not been faced with the challenge of having to paint, and while it was different, it was also similar in some ways. Looking at the paper in front of him as if here were looking at a computer screen, he placed his hands on the palette like he was typing on a keyboard. "Hm," Juho let out, thinking back to a time when he was writing. He couldn't afford to keep his hands idle. He had to paint something, anything. Then, raising his brush, he placed it on the canvas. A blue line came gliding down the middle of it. 'What is this?'

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188 A Way to Remember 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "What are you drawing, there?" Joon Soo asked. "The answer is a single brush stroke away," Juho gave him a somewhat ambiguous answer, but both he and Joon Soo knew the meaning behind that sentence. Then, a quiet chuckle sounded, and Juho stared intently into the white canvas with only the single streak of blue. 'Maybe I should paint a dog or something. What would dogs be like internally? What would they think about?' There was a dog that always barked in the distance when Juho would visit Yun Seo at her house. And despite how it sounded when it barked, it wasn't the wariest of dogs. It was simply trained to be defensive and to bark whenever strangers were near. If one were to give it a human language, it would say something to the effect of: Bark. Bark. Juho swallowed quietly. 'No, that's not it.' Then, he thought of all the training he had received in the Literature Club taught by Mr. Moon. Dried filefish and squid, salt, apple. He couldn't remember anything except for the things he had eaten. If Mr. Moon were to see him in his current state, the teacher would immediately start grumbling about his reluctant choice of career. With that, Juho decided to paint something else. Yun Seo. She had always emphasized love: to love each other, as well as oneself. 'Writing for myself. Me.' The subject Juho had chosen to embrace and portray was himself. Then, the blue streak on the canvas turned into a river. The lesson was about portraying the spirit or inner nature of an object, but that didn't necessarily mean that he had to paint a river. In fact, it would have to be the person looking at the river. Juho wanted to paint the inner being of that person. Juho looked down at the palette in his hand, filled with clean, crisp colors. Yellow, green, purple. They were all vivid. Then, in his head, he tried listing a set of sentences. 'He was looking down into the river while holding a piece of paper in one hand and a pen in the other, writing with trembling hands. He was depressed and angry with himself. He was trying desperately to hope for something and to make something happen. He wanted to live. He wanted to write.' With that, Juho put down the palette and the brush and picked up the pail of water, which was filled with a gray liquid of a rather peculiar shade. It was the result of the different colors mixing together. Then, rising from his seat, he picked up the paper from the easel and stepped off the bench. "Careful. I wouldn't want you to get splashed." "Wha-?" Before Joon Soo had time to react, Juho threw the water in the pail at the paper in his hand, wetting his hands and the sleeves of his uniform. However, Juho paid no attention to it. What had once been a white piece of paper was now soaked in water, limp and hanging lifelessly in his hand, as if it would tear away from it at any given minute. Then, putting the empty pail down, he picked up the paper with his both hands, and turned around. "I'm done." However, the Yun Seo and Joon Soo were staring over Juho's shoulders. "My, my. What's with all this water?" a familiar voice said. When Juho turned his head slowly toward where the voice was coming from, the surroundings that had grown fuzzy became clear as he took his eyes away from the paper. It was Geun Woo and Hyun Do, who stood behind him. "Hello," Juho greeted the two, and Geun Woo received his bow while wiping the drops of grey liquid off his face, which looked like moles. "This isn't toilet water, is it?" he asked, looking at the pail. Then, pointing at the empty pail, Juho told him the source of the water. "Sorry about that. I didn't know you were there." "I wasn't expecting to get soaked, either." "Did your clothes stain?" "Yeah, but it should be fine. If not, I'll send you the bill." Then, walking past Geun Woo, Hyun Do said to Juho while looking at the paper in his hand intently, "Next time, try putting the paper on the ground before throwing water on it." At that, Yun Seo and Juho looked at the painting and Hyun Do in turn, and leaving her old friend standing, she asked him, "What do you have there?" After a brief thought, he answered, "It depends on how my readers interpret it." Juho gave them a somewhat ambiguous answer. Then, narrowing her eyes, Yun Seo asked another question, "Then, how would you like to name it?" Thankfully, it wasn't too difficult of a question. "An author." --- After cleaning up after himself and letting his painting dry on the flat bench outside, Juho walked into the house and saw four people in the classroom. There were traces in there that made it seem like Yun Seo had been teaching even up to a moment ago, and the projector screen in the front was only further proof of that. Then, Juho sat next to Geun Woo, who had changed into a fresh set of clothes. "Did San Jung make it back in one piece?" She had stayed at Yun Seo's house not too long ago while visiting her old teacher to seek help in overcoming the crisis she had been facing. However, the fact that she was no longer in the house meant that she had been able to overcome her obstacle successfully. At that, Yun Seo nodded affirmingly while chuckling quietly. Sitting in front of the desks, she was holding a steaming mug with both of her hands. "I wasn't expecting her to show up, like that," Yun Seo seemed like she had been pleasantly surprised by one of her old pupils visiting. "Do you know what the first thing she said to me was, after walking in through that door? 'Mrs. Baek, is it true that you're coming out with a new book?'" "What did you say to her?" "I asked her where she had heard that." It was the confirmation, and Yun Seo looked intently at Juho and said, "She told me she heard it from you." "It just came out, somehow." Then, Juho asked curiously, "What did she do here? Did she write?" "Nothing." The answer came from Geun Woo, instead. "San Jung didn't do a thing the entire time she was here. She didn't even write." "It might have seemed that way," Yun Seo said. "As long as we keep our eyes open, there will always be an endless stream of information flowing into our brain, which then, sorts and processes them automatically at a subconscious level. So, San Jung might not have written a single word during her stay, but she had so many different experiences." "I saw her snooping around your studio while you were writing, Mrs. Baek." Then, Joon Soo interjected in order to rephrase Geun Woo's rude choice of words. "You mean, she was observing Mrs. Baek writing, intently." Neither Joon Soo nor Geun Woo seemed to know about San Jung's visit in detail, and Yun Seo, too, didn't explain to them what had happened with San Jung. Simply, she told them that the author was free from her crisis and had now regained her ability to write. "I see," Juho said, relieved. Hyun Do kept listening to the three until they had finished talking since he was a person who much preferred to listen than to talk. And although neither Geun Woo nor Joon Soo were explicit about it, it was rather obvious to Juho that they were conscious of Hyun Do's presence, and the fact that their backs were much straighter was further proof of that. Then, taking his eyes off of their backs, Juho redirected his attention to the projector screen and asked, "What's that? Did you watch a movie in here?" "Huh, how'd you know?" "Really?!" 'Was it a slow day?' At that, it was Yun Seo's answer that cleared up Juho's question. "It was for a lesson on writing a visual portrayal. In other words, writing out a scene in a movie." "Like a depiction?" "Similar." It was common for authors to strive toward writing a story that their readers would be able to visualize what they were reading in their heads as soon as they read it. Authors who excelled in portrayals were capable of making their readers picture the scene in their heads immediately, from characters to the background to the climax. It was like watching a movie. Not only was it possible for those authors to convey things like acting, dialogues, monologues, and the background, but also the epic background music, the taste of food being eaten by the protagonist, or the scent of summer rain. "It allows you to perceive touch, sound, smell, and taste at a deeper level, even looking into the character's mind." An author had the power to tell their readers the mindset and the motives behind their characters' behaviors. They were capable of making the readers understand every event in their novels, making them resonate with them and sending chills down their spines… Assuming that the author had the skill for that, that is. "If only," Geun Woo said while wearing his distinctively depressed look, and Juho, too, identified with him. An excellent portrayal called for a firm foundation in the story, so that the changes in points of view or the detailed descriptions wouldn't confuse the readers. Jumping back and forth between the internal and external being of a character, an author had the creative power to decide what to reveal to their readers, and among those present in the classroom, the author who was the most skilled in doing just that was Hyun do. Like most things, writing evolved over time, as well as based on trends. And Hyun Do was capable of encompassing both modern and contemporary literature in the way he wrote, allowing him to move his readers from deep within, stimulating every sense. It was also one of the reasons for his long-lasting career as an author loved by many. He was sensitive to changes and quick to adapt. At the same time, he was able to embrace those changes. The careful calculations that went into his writing were both powerful and beautiful. "How are you able to describe things like that, Mr. Lim? I'm telling you, I find myself getting impressed everytime I read your books," at Juho's question, Geun Woo and Joon Soo writhed silently for an unknown reason, making quite a fuss. Then, chuckling quietly, Hyun Doo looked down, and said, "Thank you for your flattering words." In other words, he had no intention of telling the young author. Then, Yun Seo asked Juho, "Would you like to give it a try? I'll play a movie." Just like she always did, she walked toward the front of the classroom before hearing Juho's answer and turned on the projector. As the light came on the white screen, Juho rose from his seat and turned off the lights in the room. Although the room wasn't completely dark because of the light that shone through the window, it wasn't bright enough to disturb them from the movie. Then, Juho observed Hyun Do, who was sitting in the opposite side of the classroom, against the light. Drinking his tea with a calm expression, his posture was quite sharp. "I'm curious about what we're going to be watching," Juho said, and Geun Woo chuckled quietly. Being able to take lessons from Yun Seo for free was a huge privilege, so Juho simply waited for the movie to play on the screen. "There it is," Geun Woo said to Juho as if signaling him. As the person on the screen began to move around, the first thing that caught Juho's attention was the passionate music. It wasn't background music. In fact, the person on the screen was playing the piano. 'A recital, maybe?' It seemed to be taking place in a conference hall, and because there was little context, Juho had to infer what might have happened prior to and after the scene. The camera focused on the look on the faces of the audience rather than the performer, who was playing an intricate piece of music with ease. There were strong emotions on their faces, like jealousy. The music only built up the tension toward the climax, and although Juho had no idea who the composer was, it was obvious to him that the person had been rather twisted on the inside. Then, a man bit into his fingernail, and at that moment, the movie stopped abruptly. "Aw! Can we watch a little more?" "This is it," Yun Seo said emphatically, asking, "How would you portray the inner state of the members of the audience?" It was a continuation of the lesson that had previously taken place in the front yard. However, it was the opposite this time: Turning a movie into writing. "First of all, I can clearly see jealousy on their faces," Juho said, and Geun Woo interjected quietly, "I wonder if you know what it feels like?" At that, Juho answered, "You think Yun Woo has never been jealous of anyone?" "Yeah." "Geun Woo, leave him alone," Joon Soo said in order to prevent Geun Woo from interrupting Juho. At that, Joon Soo clenched his lips tightly. Then, the scent of alcohol in Juho's mind tickled his nose. In his past life, not only had he been jealous of other authors who had been more successful than him, but he had also been incredibly pretentious, regularly blurting out things like: "That's nothing! Give me a pen, and I'll write something like that with my eyes closed!" It was a rather embarrassing past, which he wouldn't even think about sharing with anyone. "The man at the end had to be a rival of the performer. Whether it was intentional or not, he's probably comparing himself to the performer, and it seems like he'd just discovered that he had lost. The nailbiting shows that he's anxious, so it had to be a situation where he couldn't afford to lose. Maybe they were having a bet?" Juho started off with his overall understanding of the situation, and Yun Seo nodded affirmingly. In order to turn the emotions in his heart into writing, Juho had to start writing, which meant he needed a seat. 'Should I write from the narrator's point of view?' With that, Juho decided to unfold the story by how the man on the screen would respond to or be affected by the situation from the omniscient viewpoint. The all-capable God would know every thought in the man's mind and had every right to expose them to the readers. "First off, the spacial setting is a recital, so it makes it easier to give impressions like: 'He's sensitive to criticism.' But, one thing we need to be clear about is that the reason for his nailbiting had nothing to do with the criticisms of others." "Then?" Joon Soo asked light-heartedly, sounding more like he was looking for confirmation rather than an answer. "It's his own. He recognized his defeat on his own. 'I can't sound or play like that.' You can tell from the sound, acting, camera angle and the contrast in the overall color scheme just now. Look, this man is closer to the camera than the performer onstage, yet he appears even smaller somehow. It has to be a visual portrayal of the inner state of the character," Juho said, pointing at the screen. Just as he had said, the performer and the member in the the audience were both on the screen, and the screen captured the image over the audience member. Although close to the camera, that character appeared smaller than the performer onstage in the distance.

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189 A Way to Remember 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl The performer in the light and the man in the dark. The enormous performer and the man reduced to a timid member of the audience. The performer moving the hearts of the listener with the beautiful melody and the man leaving the viewers of the movie feeling uneasy with his anxious look on his face. Although the two were rivals, the contrast between them was being conveyed to the viewers visually. After all, it was a movie. The notes played by the performer were quite passionate. Fast and dark, they gave the viewers an implication of the state of the man in the audience. "Jealousy only appears when there's someone better. If I were to describe what that man is feeling about the performer, I'd have to use the word timid. Timid jealousy. I'm not talking about the intensity of his jealousy necessarily, but rather, the degree of his expression. The man probably doesn't have to guts to inflict any harm on the performer. If anything, he'll probably blame himself in a corner, somewhere." That was the image being conveyed by the man's petite figure. If he had been a person who expressed his emotions more directly, rather than biting his nails, he would have either stormed out of the hall or kicked things angrily. Or, at the very least, clenched his hands tightly into fists. In other words, rather than being anxious, he would have chosen to express an emotion closer to anger. "I hope he's a person who has performed all of his life and did nothing but play," Juho said. Based on the personality of the character, Juho imagined an arbitrary version of the man's life. The man had lived his entire life in front of a piano. His fingers were long and clean, and he had led a rather peaceful life, filled with music. Then, the performer appeared, and for the first time, he had met another musician who was better than him. The performer's playing had to be… "... the biggest trial in the man's life, I'd say." As far as hardships for such a timid, yet delicate character, the degree of it was just right. At this point, at least. "This is still the beginning of the movie, right?" Juho asked Yun Seo, and she gave him an affirmative answer. In Juho's mind, sentences began to form quickly, and Juho had a desire to show everyone in the room even those things that moving images wouldn't be able to show. In writing, it was very much possible to place the camera right next to the heart of a person. "I read your piece, 'River,'" Hyun Do said quietly. At that, Juho listened intently. "I'm sure you're tired of compliments by now, so I'll just get right to the point," the literary great said in a calm and pleasant tone of voice. "Were you challenged in any way when you were writing?" "... Pardon?" "Did you find yourself getting frustrated with anything?" Unlike normal, Juho was quite taken aback because of how unfamiliar he was with the questions. Nobody had asked questions like that. Everyone had been occupied with how impressive the piece was and recovering from the emotional impact of it. Many people had concerns about Yun Woo's dark past, which had enabled him to write such a dark piece, as well as about his future, believing that he would face the challenge of having to outdo himself. However, those very concerns were the things that Hyun Do had leisurely addressed by asking about the young author's current state. "Yes." Of course, there were bound to be challenges when writing. "Although I really wanted to write well, I wanted to write especially well this time." "And?" "So, I made an investment. I bought myself a laptop because I wanted to work while looking at the river. But I was caught off guard by how fast the battery runs out." "And then?" "And this time, I made a lot more revisions than I normally do, and it was incredibly boring. I found myself getting distracted, mostly wondering what kind of stories other authors would write about." It was quite a refreshing feeling. --- While conversing with Hyun Do about various topics, Juho suddenly changed the subject, as curiosity rose to the surface of his mind. "Mr. Lim, have you ever written for a literary magazine?" "Of course!" Yun Seo said vividly. Taken aback, her pupils asked in turn, "When?? This is my first time hearing this." "What was it called? Where can we find it?" At the two making a fuss, their teacher answered delightfully, "It was between us three: my husband, myself, and Hyun Do." "What are you bringing that up, for?!" Hyun Do said to her, looking displeased, and she got a kick out of it. "Why wasn't it known? I'm not the only one who doesn't know about this, am I?" It was a collaboration between Wol Kang, Yun Seo Baek, and Hyun Do Lim. Yet, Juho knew nothing about it. Then, Hyun Do said, "That's why it's not worth talking about." "We didn't publish it. It was like a joke between the three of us." "Why didn't you?" "The circumstances weren't in our favor. Our relationship with the publishing company had gone sour, and the editing process went on a lot longer than anticipated. So, in the end, Wol lost interest, and the whole thing fell through. After all, he was the one that suggested it." "Ugh! Such a waste!" Geun Woo let out involuntarily, covering his mouth immediately after. However, Juho felt the same way. A literary magazine written by the three literary greats. He found himself desperate to get his hands on one, but unfortunately, it was no longer around. "It seems like Mr. Kang had a fickle side." "He was the living example of what it was to be fickle," Hyun Do said, and despite him openly making such a cold, heartless remark, Yun Seo didn't deny it. "Are the pieces gone for good?" "It might be collecting dust somewhere. I'm not sure." "I'll look for it, Mrs. Baek." "Oh, don't bother. It's ancient, now." "But…" Dissuading her two pupils, Yun Seo skillfully changed the subject. "Speaking of which, aren't you forgetting something, Geun Woo?" "Am I?" "Yeah, you were so excited about Juho coming over." At that, Geun Woo clapped loudly and pointed at Juho. "Yun Pil! The arrogant!" (TL's Note: the name "Yun Pil" (not to be confused with the Korean word for pencil, which sounds the same.) would be "Pil Yun" in Korea, which means fate - the opposite of coincidence, "Yun Woo.") 'A-ha,' Juho immediately caught on to who Geun Woo was referring to. Yun Pil was the name of the character based on Yun Woo in Mideum's novel, which Juho had read in the subway on his way there. "It was very, very interesting reading about Mideum's take on Yun Woo." At that, Juho smiled awkwardly, "He was very different from me." "I wouldn't be so sure about that." "Does that mean you find me arrogant?" "What I'm saying is that this is a great opportunity for self-reflection." Geun Woo was quite excited, and although Juho looked at Joon Soo for help, he was finding the situation all too entertaining. "Seems like you've read it too, Joon Soo." "Of course! It's Mideum's book. People were going crazy about it even before it came out because of the character based on Yun Woo. I'm sure Mideum lived up to her readers' expectations. Besides, that Yun Pil? He's an interesting one, that one." "And arrogant," Juho added. At which point, Joon Soo burst out laughing. "Don't take it so hard now. It's the 'charming' kind of arrogant," Joon Soo said, subtly admitting that the character was arrogant. "I saw that Mideum put a lot of work into it." "You've read it too, Mrs. Baek?" "Of course! I love her books, especially the Dr. Dong series. By the way, I'm sure Hyun Do read it too." At that, Juho looked at Hyun Do, who nodded subtly, but affirmingly. Then, Geun Woo whispered to Joon Soo, "We should tell Mideum, right away. When she finds out that Mrs. Baek and Mr. Lim read her book, she'll freak." It wasn't hard to imagine Mideum being ecstatic. Then, Joon Soo said, "I, personally, thought Mideum was quite perceptive in the way she captured your personality." "In what sense?" Juho asked, genuinely. In his eyes, Yun Pil was the polar opposite of him, just like their names. "Well, the character constantly crosses the line, and he does it so nonchalantly, to the point of it being appalling." "Was I ever rude like that?" "No. I've yet to meet a high school student who's as polite as you, to this day. BUT, you are kind of like Yun Pil when you write, right? Your writing is sensational for a reason. I mean, just look at Kelley Coin." "C'mon, you can't compare me to Kelley Coin," Juho said emphatically. At which, Joon Soo chuckled, and said, "Well, in any case, you're known to be arrogant from now on." "You think so?" Juho said. Then, he added in a somewhat fatigued-sounding voice, "Well, I do think it was inevitable, but this doesn't just apply to me. Everyone perceives each other in a certain way, and that's the image that defines a person to those around them. To those who went to a prestigious school, that becomes their image. Cops are cops to everyone. It's not easy to see the true inner being of a person." It was the same way when watching TV, even if only for a few minutes. A person's character on TV became their defining image as a person. And that was why actors who played villains in soap operas often suffered malicious and/or profane comments made about them on the internet. "Yun Woo's no different." Yun Pil's image was starting to overlap that of Yun Woo. Wealthy, lives in a mansion, speaks recklessly, lacks consideration toward others, shameless, has no friends, and insists on being considered an author. At that, Hyun Do stared intently at Juho, raising one of his eyebrows. Then, after studying his expression for a little while, Joon Soo tactfully rose from his seat. --- After getting made fun of by Geun Woo, Juho walked out to the kitchen to get some snacks since Yun Seo had finally agreed to show the rest of the movie. Then, on his way back to the classroom, while carrying as many bags as he could, he saw Joon Soo through the living room window. He was staring intently at Juho's painting, which Juho had previously left out on the flat bench in order to let it dry out. "What are you doing here?" Juho asked as he came out the door. Then, taking his eyes off of the painting, Joon Soo looked toward him. "What are you doing?" "Carrying these back to the room," Juho said, showing him all the snacks in his arms. "I pestered her for a little while, and she gave in." "Ah, I've already seen it, though." "Oh. Seems like it's a movie that you wouldn't wanna watch again." At that, Joon Soo remembered the movie. The protagonist didn't die, unlike what Juho had posited about him. He simply kept on playing the piano. "Not at all. It's a great movie." Then, Joon Soo reminisced to his youth, when he had been drawn to the performer more than the man in the audience because of his obvious talent. Showcasing his talent on a brightly-lit stage and leaving his audience in shock, the performer was quite charming, and seeing his life on the screen brought about a great sense of satisfaction. Joon Soo also remembered how intensely biased he had been toward the character, to the point of fast-forwarding the movie whenever the man in the audience would appear on the screen. However, years later, and after meeting all sorts of people, he had finally been able to embrace those around the brightly-lit stage. Those who failed, those who were trying again, those growing and yet to reach the top. And lately, he began to resonate with the less fortunate, who had nothing to show for. It wasn't clear as to why. Perhaps he was getting older or turning a new leaf. Or maybe, he saw himself becoming more like those people. Being a genius was a much more realistic goal as a child. However, as one grew older, the chance of achieving that goal dwindled increasingly because the title "genius" tended to perish quickly. It was for that reason that it often left those naive enough to try to obtain it in pain. This was especially true in the literary world. The nickname "genius" lost its charm quickly, and nobody was foolish enough to covet it. Joon Soo took a deep breath. 'It's been a while since I felt this way.' Perhaps it was Joon Soo's first time meeting someone who wasn't inherently talented, yet Joon Soo found himself calling him a "genius." Whenever he read this genius' works, he couldn't help but be impressed. When Joon Soo looked at Juho, he saw the young author munching on some of the snacks he had in his arms, looking as calm and unfazed as ever. There was no trace of fear or lingering attachment in his expression, and he had always moved on from those emotions, one step ahead of those around him. "This painting is incredible," Joon Soo said, looking at the painting that was drying on the flat bench. It had shrunk from the excessive moisture. "It looks like it's about to rip at any given minute." "Yes, it does." That was what made the painting all the more incredible. Joon Soo remembered his very first painting, when he was being trained for the first time. A landscape painted at the center of the paper, it was still being kept in his studio. In order to portray the spirit of the subject, he had stretched and shrunk the object, and according to the words of his teacher, he had imitated an eastern painting. That was his first painting. 'I can't believe he soaked the paper in such a dirty water.' Juho hadn't even tried to draw anything. In fact, he hadn't even tried, or even intended on creating something beautiful or attractive. Simply, Yun Woo took a pail of dirty, grey-colored water and threw it on the paper. At that moment, Joon Soo had been reduced to a coward. "You were like that when you were writing 'River,' weren't you?" "Like what?" As a creator, Yun Woo wasn't afraid of being broken. Which meant… "I get a feeling that you would finish writing only to delete it all. At once and without hesitation."

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190 A Way to Remember 4

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Wiping the crumbs around his mouth, Juho said, "Wow, how'd you know?" "I can tell from your painting," Joon Soo said, chuckling light-heartedly, and Juho stared at him intently. "You seemed to have a lot on your mind." "I always do." Juho had no idea what Joon Soo had in mind. However, what Juho did know was that despite his perpetual, friendly smile, Joon Soo was rather greedy and ambitious when it came to writing, and his writing style was further proof of that. Juho couldn't dare to imagine how much he wrestled with his sentences, searching for ways to improve them. Then, after a brief time thinking, Juho walked out to the flat bench. "So, there's this article I saw, and it said, "Yun Woo of 'River.'" Apparently, that's how I'm going to be called for the next several years." "I bet. Your most recent piece became your representative work. Starting with 'Trace of a Bird,' to 'Sound of Wailing.' And now, 'River.'" "The article also said that Yun Woo would be going on hiatus to rest." Although the publishing company had spoken up in order to disprove the news, it had been too late by that point. The news had already spread to the readers. Besides, it only made sense that the young author would rest after writing a piece that seemed so emotionally taxing, and his fellow authors seemed to think the same way. "But, I'm planning to keep writing," Juho said. There was simply too much work backed up for him to take a break. To be more precise, it was accumulating. "Besides, I don't have any positive memories associated with the river. I'm not too fond of that nickname, either." "And?" At Joon Soo questioning him about what he was trying to say, Juho opened his mouth and said, "It means I can do better." Juho felt Joon Soo's gaze fixed on him like an arrow. There was a higher place that he wanted to reach and he wanted to climb up to it. He was no different. "One can only stay afloat when they move their hands and feet." "... right." Then, Joon Soo looked up slowly. "I should be writing if I have the time to wander around, right?" "No, I wasn't trying to sound arrogant." "Well, I, myself, must have gotten a little too confident. Is this the kind of power media has on authors? Isn't it a syndrome of sorts? What's your diagnosis, Mr. Woo?" "Your symptoms are very, very mild. Trust me," Juho said, suppressing memories of his embarrassing past. Then, hearing someone behind him, he turned around. Hyun Do was standing there, and both Juho and Joon Soo jumped internally. "Yun Seo's waiting. Her patience is wearing thin." "Oh, right. We were out for a while, weren't we?" "We'll be in, soon." Joon Soo and Juho headed for the classroom quickly. At that moment, at the sight of his painting, Juho stopped in his tracks abruptly. "Should I take this inside? It's kind of cloudy out." "Sure, leave it on the table in the kitchen. I'll take this," Joon Soo said, taking the snacks Juho had brought out from him. Then, as Juho was about to go inside with his painting, he saw that Hyun Do was standing in his place still. "What's the matter?" "Would you like to know how else you can stay afloat?" "... You heard?!" At that, Hyun Do let out a snicker. "I can't close my ears like I can my eyes, or flip them around somehow, unfortunately. Clogging my ears can only get me so far. I apologize if you found it intrusive." "No, no," Juho said, lowering his head with respect. Then, the voice of the literary great came from above. "Loosen up." At that moment, Juho relaxed his shoulders by reflex and quickly realized that that wasn't what Hyun Do was talking about. Another way to stay afloat. "One can stay afloat by loosening up and staying relaxed. Kicking under water will keep you floating, but it's bound to wear you out sooner or later. Although, that might not apply to a young man like you," Hyun Do said with a relaxed smile. At that point, it dawned on Juho just how handsome he was. Hyun Do was an incredibly good looking man. "No… it does," Juho answered weakly, and Hyun Do turned around, and went back inside, heading toward Yun Seo's study rather than going back to the classroom for the movie. Looking down at his painting, Juho murmured, "How did he know?" Before he knew it, his shoulders felt a tad bit lighter. --- People rushed to cross the street before the traffic light turned red. Once the numbers in the light disappeared and the light turned another color, crossing the street was no longer possible. Thankfully, all it took was a little bit of waiting until the red light turned green again. However, the pedestrians rushing past Juho and crossing the major street before even reaching the crosswalk didn't seem to be aware of that fact. It was understandable that one would grow anxious knowing that they were given only so much time to cross the street, and Juho was fully aware that the pedestrians were fast enough to cross the street in time. He also had faith that the cars would wait for the pedestrians until they had safely reached the other side of the street. Then, a person ran toward the crosswalk and safely crossed the street, and by the time Juho reached the traffic light, the cars were zooming past him on the street. Juho waited patiently for the traffic light to turn, that an external cause would somehow speed up the change. He was beginning to grow anxious to work on a new piece, which he had had in mind for a while. Following the steps of 'The Beginning and the End' and its success, the literary magazines from other publishing companies, each unique to their own, were selling at an increasing rate. The word 'River' was still following around Yun Woo's name, and Yun Pil, a character in Mideum's novel series, had already grown wildly popular. Also, people were showing exaggerated interest in the overlap between Yun Woo and Yun Pil. The traffic light was still red, and Juho stood there, thinking about what to write. Unlike those around him, who were just standing, waiting for the light to turn green, Juho had been waiting for the answer to a burning question in his mind. 'What should the topic be? How should it unfold?' Juho was waiting to reach an answer with the same patience he had for waiting for the traffic light to change. "There it is." At the sight of the light turning green, Juho crossed the street. There was a large, sophisticated, mental health center building on the other side of the street. From a glance, it looked like a science lab straight out of a science magazine, or a building in a university campus. Although it had been an ordinary psychiatric hospital only up to a year ago, it had been a plain, brick building, surrounded by tall walls and metal fences. Even though the facility itself had gone through a name change and considerable renovation, the look of the rehabilitation center still maintained traces of the past when compared to it. An old, dark-brown building with a small tennis court was still within the confinements of the green, metal cage. "This reminds me of a trail." Complete with benches, trees, and a tall anemoscope, the newly-renovated mental health center had been given a new look. Its previous defining elements, like the metal fences that had separated the building from the street, and thick, grey cement walls, were nowhere to be found. Judging from the peaceful surroundings, and from a child who appeared to be around the age of an elementary school student riding its bicycle around the facility, and from the people and cars around moving about busily, the efforts to transform the hospital seemed to have been a success. Juho sat on a bench in order to rest for a little while. 'I'm glad I came out.' Despite the terrifying rumor circulating at school, saying that there were escaped patients lurking around the trail in the dark, hiding behind streetlamps, it wasn't such a bad environment. Then, Juho remembered a conversation he had overheard in his classroom. 'How did that come up?' A fire. There was a fire in a building in a residential area near the school, and there was a student in the class who happened to live near the area. The class had been clamoring about it for some time, and whenever the student described the location, they would always include the words 'psychiatric hospital.' Although there were no casualties, Juho remembered hearing that the fire had been quite destructive, spreading to the surrounding buildings, and how residents had tried desperately to put it out with pails and pails of water, anxious that it would spread even further. 'Maybe I should see it with my own eyes.' The building that had burned down wasn't very far from the hospital. Looking at the anemoscope and its needle changing its direction slightly, Juho rose from the bench and made his way to the scene of the fire. "So, this is it." Juho was able to recognize it at once. Everything had burned to crisp, and things like doors and windows had fallen away long ago. What was once a two-story building had been reduced to ruin, making it difficult to picture its original color. He stared intently at the sight of the out-of-place remains of the building. They were deep-black, unlike the streets and the residential buildings around them, and despite the lack of doors and windows, the inside was completely hidden. It almost seemed like it had been cursed with all sorts of spells. The pedestrians glanced over at it as they walked past, and considering its frightening appearance, it was only natural that people couldn't help but look at it. Fire tended to leave truly horrifying traces, and the magnitude of the fire really sank into Juho. Then, a gust of wind blew against a persimmon tree nearby, and Juho fixed his eyes at the sight of the falling leaves as they landed gently on a car parked under it. 'A persimmon tree, leaves, and a car.' "A persimmon-leaf mobile." "Pff!" At that moment, a burst of laughter sounded out of nowhere. When Juho turned around, he saw a man who gave off a welcoming impression, with a patchy beard and an unlit cigarette in his mouth. Despite being the culprit behind the fizzling sound, he was still smiling. "Haven't laughed like that in a while," the man said. He was in a hospital gown, marked with the name of the mental health center. Then, after he looked at the persimmon-leaf mobile, Juho, and the burnt remains of the building in turn, with the cigarette still in his mouth, he turned around and walked away. There was no way to know where he was headed or why he had been standing in front of the building that had burned down. Juho didn't try to stop him. Simply, an image of a firefighter rushed past his eyes, above the man's head. Juho had a strong but strange feeling that the man was responsible for putting out the fire, but of course, it was no more than groundless conjecture. It had to be the effect of watching a clip of firefighters reduced to tears during their sessions with a psychologist. With guilt still fresh in their minds, tears flowed down their cheeks at the thought of those who couldn't be saved, including their colleagues who had been crushed to death by falling debris. Heart conditions was one of the badges that came along with the occupational hazard due to the toxic fumes in the fire. They were in pain and helpless in the face of guilt. With the appreciation and respect of the citizens, they were people who were willingly putting themselves in the line of danger, saving the lives of many, like a stream of hope in the rampant fire. Most people wanted them to lead happy lives, and to be treated by others in the way they deserved. Juho stared at the man walking further away and imagined him in his firefighting equipment, his face stained with soot. It suited him quite well. Then, the man bumped shoulders with another pedestrian, and after staggering briefly, he let out… "The fuck!?" The man was furious, and Juho saw the pedestrian panicking, bowing in apology. Upon witnessing the murderous anger, Juho's conjecture shattered to pieces. At that moment, he pictured the man as the arsonist responsible for starting the fire and remembered the rumors from school about the hospital. Putting the pieces together, Juho imagined the man escaping from the psychiatric hospital nearby, stalking someone at random and starting a fire in the building, which now lay in ruins. The reason being that he had lost the person he was stalking. Because of that, he had resorted to expressing his anger with fire. What was the truth? Who was he? The face that gave off a welcoming impression, eyes filled with murderous anger, unlit cigarette, hospital gown, laughter, and profanity. As they lingered in Juho's ears, he found himself growing anxious. 'OK, let's stay focused. What must I do?' Staying true to his instincts, he looked for the man, who was already nowhere to be found. Then, Juho began to run, searching for him. But even as he reached the hospital, there were no signs of the man. Perhaps, he had already gone back into the hospital, in which case, meeting him would no longer be possible. From his name to his age, Juho knew nothing about the man. Nothing.

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191 Burning Away 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl While Juho stood in front of the psychiatric hospital, having lost track of time thinking about the man's whereabouts, the traffic light had already turned a number of times. The man had to be in the massive building before his eyes. However, it was also possible that he may have gone underground, into the subway station past the anemoscope, or that he had already crossed the street, never to be found again. Pedestrians and cars rushed past Juho while he stood in a daze. The anemoscope worked busily, and the children riding bicycles pedaled around the trail all the harder while the children chasing them ran even faster. In the same manner, Juho made haste and reached the traffic light. Although the cars had the right of way, there were no cars on the road. And at the sight of that, Juho felt the strong urge welling up from within. He was anxious to get across to the other side while the road was empty. Then, checking his sides to make sure that there were no incoming cars within eyeshot, he took a step forward, past the yellow tiles on the ground. The traffic light came into view, still red. "Sigh." 'OK, relax.' Although Juho's hope to meet a different demise from his past was very much intact, death by the violation of traffic law was a less-than-desirable way to go. With that, Juho waited, shaking his leg anxiously. The light was still red, and time couldn't go any slower. 'C'mon. Turn green.' Upon returning home, Juho gulped down a cup of water, and trying hard to remain calm, he went into his room. Due of the freedom that came with writing, and its lack of notion of time and space, Juho had the power to return to the moment when he first met the man whenever he desired. As always, his room was a sty, filled with stacks of papers and boxes that towered over him. Standing in front of his desk, he pulled out his chair, and with a quiet sound, the wheeled chair rolled out. Then, sitting on the chair's cushion, he pulled it closer to the desk. There were pens and papers rolling around the wooden desk. With that, he opened a new notebook, and enjoying the feeling of it, he picked up a pen and closed his eyes, slowly recreating the scene. Present and past. Brown bricks and grey walls. A secluded, psychiatric hospital had turned into a peaceful mental health center. Six benches, three working-anemoscopes, two boys who appeared to be in elementary school, one girl, and two bicycles. The girl was chasing after a boy, and from there, about thirty to thirty-five steps away, the burnt ruins appeared. The street lamps stood uniformly apart, and there were alleyways in between residential buildings. In the alleyway next to the burnt ruins, was a persimmon tree with a car parked under it. Then, a gust of wind blew, and the leaves shook and fell on to the car, and that was when the man finally made his appearance. "Pff!" They met again. Wearing a patchy beard and holding an unlit cigarette in his hand, the man gave off a welcoming impression, and it was in front of that man that the burnt ruins lay. "Are you a hero?" The man gave no response. "Or a criminal?" Again, the man stayed silent. Instead of giving him an answer, he threw the cigarette in his hand down on the ground. The entire space shook. The air changed, and the anemoscope stopped working all of a sudden. Then, Juho felt intense heat coming from the house engulfed in flames. However, the man didn't move a muscle. As the flame grew all the more rampant, Juho contemplated what to ask him. The heat was only growing more intense, and ominous smoke went up the sky while the traffic light on the other side of the street blinked about as it went into counting down through the single digits. "The fuck!?" At that moment, Juho heard the man cursing out loud. There was a mysterious emotion behind it. And when Juho looked at him, he was melting away, unable to resist the heat. Then, the man began to walk, but Juho couldn't tell if he was walking toward or away from the burning house. As the entire place shook again, Juho staggered, and the space Juho had created began to fall apart. There was no time. Catching up to the man, Juho managed to reach him before his mouth melted away from the heat. 'What do I ask him?' Juho contemplated. The man was shrinking even smaller, and his head tilted back as his body softened up like a lump of clay. Despite the ashes on his eyelashes, he was still blinking. The sky was now covered in black, ominous smoke. 'What do I ask him?' "I know nothing about you," Juho said. Then, the man's mouth parted open, his throat throbbing. He seemed to be swallowing something. No. Something was about to come out. Then, a fizz came out of nowhere, and a piece of information entered Juho's mind immediately. 'Maybe that will be enough. Wouldn't I know enough about him, then?' In that space where everything was burning away, Juho was stuck with an irresponsible certainty. When Juho looked down at the man, he had already turned into what looked like a crudely-kneaded lump of clay. That meant that Juho had the power to shape it however he wanted to, and that knowledge tickled his hands. In that moment, Juho found joy in the fact that he still knew nothing about the man. He was grateful that he had lost him in the street. Then, Juho stomped on a pair of lips that appeared to be made of clay, still open toward the sky. The footprints remained, and the fire kept burning. Then, the traffic light blinked about, stuck on the number one. The buildings began to collapse, and eventually, the entire space began to fall apart. And with that, Juho opened his eyes. When he checked the time, it was midnight. --- "I've been working on something," Juho told Nam Kyung, whom he was meeting for the first time in a long time. The editor put a sandwich and a cup of Job's Tears tea down on the table, while Juho kept his eyes fixated on his laptop. "What?" "I've been writing." "Oh, in the Literature Club?" "No, something I'll end up publishing, most likely." "... what?!" Nam Kyung said, pulling his glasses up. Despite the meaningless question, Juho answered sincerely. "I'm working on a new piece." At that, Nam Kyung jumped from his seat and charged toward Juho's laptop, but saw nothing but a search engine on the screen. "What is this about, Mr. Woo? You gotta revise your work, don't ya? Let's see the manuscript." "I have no intention to show it to you before it's finished." "C'mooon!" "Please, wait til I'm, at least, almost done." Although Juho had been sharing his unbearable manuscripts with Nam Kyung for them to be edited, he was still reluctant to show the editor a manuscript that wasn't even good enough to be the first draft. At the young author's adamant attitude, Nam Kyung went back to his seat, smacking his lips. And, after a brief thought, he said cautiously, "Are you rushing, because you're feeling pressured?" "About what?" Juho asked, and a hesitant look appeared on Nam Kyung's face. He seemed to be unsure of whether it was something that could be mentioned explicitly. Seeing that, Juho took the initiative and asked, "You mean about 'River?'" "Yes, precisely," Nam Kyung said, nodding with exaggeration. 'River' was a short story and considered to be Yun Woo's best work yet. At just over nine thousand words, not only did it surpass the works of the other authors of the same generation, but it had also outdone Yun Woo's previous works, and Nam Kyung was among the impressed readers who had been going wild with the piece. As soon as he read 'River,' the thought that it was the best the young author could ever do crossed over the editor, and it remained deep within him to that day. Aside from Nam Kyung, there were many others who thought the same, believing that the young author wouldn't be able to overcome the challenge of outperforming himself this time. They believed that the young author was finally coming to taste the bitter reality of this world, and that he would be able to learn from his very first failure. However, Yun Woo was simply too sensitive and perceptive to be gullible. Seeing Nam Kyung's gaze, Juho said, without a care in the world, "I'm not writing in a hurry." "Then?" "I'm writing because there's something I want to write about." With that, Juho closed his laptop and added, "You see, there's a question that traveled a long way to find me so that I can write about it." "... Did you find inspiration?" "Yes." "What is it about?" "I told you. It's not even good enough to be the first draft." "Well, I'm sure there's a plot. C'mon, tell me about the direction you have in mind, at the very least." At that, Juho took a brief moment to think and opened his mouth to say, "Let's say it's a book Yun Pil would write." There was no set hero nor villain, and the author, himself, had no clue who was going to be what. Amid the ambiguity, the only thing that was clearly defined was the main event. There was no promise that Juho would be able to finish writing the story, and much like fire, it carried an element of danger. "I'm not really sure, either. There's a villain, a hero, and a central theme that's mutual to everyone's eyes within the story." At the abstract-sounding explanation, Nam Kyung asked, "Is it a thriller?" "It will definitely be tense, but I can't say." "Or… a detective novel?" "But there's no trick, like a secret room or a weapon." "Romance?" "I'm sure there's going to be somebody who's in a relationship at some point, but I wouldn't necessarily categorize the entire novel as a romance novel." Then, after a brief pause, the editor asked, "Are you really writing?" "Sigh," Juho sighed quietly, and feeling his strength leaving his body, he leaned on the backrest. Indeed, Juho had been writing a story that began as the fire rose. Due to the nature of the story, Juho was leaning in the direction of keeping the story tense throughout. When he wrote 'River,' writing had been a breeze since all he had to do had been to stay true to his impulsivity and color what had been used as the foundation, that is, his personal experience. Of course, the result of that was having to make several times more revisions than usual. Juho reached for a cup, which was empty and light. Despite having expected it to be empty, he brought it up to his mouth anyway, only to be reminded that it was dry and of the coffee stain at the bottom of the cup. There was data he had collected up to that point scattered throughout his desk, and thanks to the help of his publishing company, he had been able to interview a working firefighter. The interview took place as a group effort between Juho, Nam Kyung, and Mr. Maeng, due to the situation calling for someone to take Yun Woo's place. While Mr. Maeng pretended to be an author, Yun Woo pretended to be a rookie editor, and as the young author acted as he always did, the interviewee didn't bother to question their legitimacy. Through the interview, Juho came to learn that the firefighting hierarchy and its system went all the way back to the Joseon Era, and how it had risen in significance after the country had become industrialized. Juho not only learned about the history of firefighting, but also learned more about it in action, from the interior of a firetruck, to how to open and close the valves, and the different situations that can take place at the scene. Fire was, indeed, cruel and frightening. However, Juho wasn't planning on making the protagonist in his novel a firefighter who had been and would always be a hero. There was no need to figure out if the protagonist would be a hero or not. In a novel filled with conflict and all sorts of intrigue, there was no room for a hero. However, due to the fact that there were always firefighters where there was fire, interviewing a working firefighter was a must. While taking a short break, Juho looked up some articles about a natural fire that had started a few days back. And that same day, there was report on the TV in the restaurant Juho had gone into after his evening exercise showing the mountains burning red and helicopters flying around them, spraying water. Everyone in the restaurant responded differently to the alarming news. While some became anxious, others were getting worked up. Their voices grew louder, and some began to share their experiences with fire. There were also those who renewed their awareness of the dangers of fire. With that, the TV played the footage of the fire being extinguished, announcing that there were no casualties. At which point, most people were genuinely relieved, but there were also those who reacted unnaturally. They had to be hoping, secretly, that the fire would grow bigger, and that it would last longer. Juho found himself slightly better educated about wildfires through the news, which said that they tended to occur more frequently on the even-numbered years, and that fires that occurred during the spring tended to be more destructive and more difficult to put out. At that moment, a self-proclaimed expert in the restaurant spoke up, "When I was young, there was a fire in the neighborhood mountain, and I remember it being around April of an even-numbered year. It was so big and fierce that it made me reflect on my own arrogance as a child." On his way home, Juho decided to make a detour out of blind hope and check the surrounding areas of the psychiatric hospital. Part wishing that he wouldn't run into the man, and part thinking that he would like to meet the man one last time, Juho sat on the bench and waited. However, the man was nowhere to be found.

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192 Burning Away 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Humans have conquered fire.' The discovery of fire was a major addition to humanity's arsenal. With the power of fire in their hands, humans began to conquer mother nature. Taking hold of what had been feared by all animals, humans had learned to utilize fire at their disposal. One of the prime benefits that fire had brought humans had been cooking. Cooked food tended to last longer than its raw counterpart, allowing humans to consume more nutrients while prioritizing other things in life. The world evolved quickly, from the Stone Age to the Bronze Age. Humans had finally reached the present point after having killed each other with bombs and cannons and undergone an industrial revolution. As always, fire was near to humanity's existence. Not only did fire provide warmth, but it was also merciful, providing food through cooking and thawing. It enabled humans to survive and protected them from the cold. For that reason, worshipping fire had been common throughout history. Humans had either worshipped fire itself,or a deity of it. Being a symbol of purification and prosperity, fire had the power to create, as well as to burn without discrimination. Juho opened the drawer next to him and took out a lighter, which was a small, half-held ignition device. Making fire was as simple as moving a thumb a certain way, and as Juho lit the lighter, a small flame came out of it. Despite its size, it was more than enough to burn down his entire paper-filled room. Humans were helpless before fire, no matter how small it was. And.... "It's perfect for driving the plot to an extreme." … that applied to authors just as much. Even he didn't know who the culprit was. Perhaps there had been no culprit from the get-go. A pleasant uncertainty scattered the thoughts within Juho's mind. Then, Juho took his back off the backrest, and after organizing his thoughts about fire, he placed his hands on the keyboard. He had decided on a direction during the interview. Although things were still fuzzy and unclear, there was certainly a path. 'Let's just go for it.' Juho imagined a scene in his head, a picture on one hand and a movie on the other, that turned into sentences. Those sentences had to be even more realistic and detailed than the images in his head. The scene Juho was writing was of when a building catches on fire. The narrator was looking at the building getting engulfed by the flames. However, Juho didn't explain what the narrator was feeling in that moment because it was a scene that placed a higher priority on the portrayal of the fire. In order to create a convincing portrayal of the fluctuating emotions of the characters who were looking at the fire, the readers also had to be sharing in their fear of fire. And in order for that to happen, emotions were needed, but not those of the narrator. Juho decided to give emotions to the fire, as well as a mouth and teeth. He made the fire enormous enough to intimidate just about everyone who saw it, and gave it a raging voice. Fire was no more than fire in real life. However, on paper, it came to life, becoming anything, from a beast to a deity. 'The fire swallowed people whole, puffing out black smoke as it engorged on helpless prey. There was poison inside the fire, distorting the skin of its victims which accompanied extreme pain. Those who fell prey to fire writhed in agony within its stomach.' After a long description, Juho stopped typing for a brief moment. It was time to look into the thoughts of the narrator. As he moved his hands, a wave of useless thoughts came rushing like the black smoke of fire: 'Do I have to go into more detail? Should I have made the description more intense? Or should I have started talking about the narrator?' A choice was often accompanied by regret, making one second guess their decision. "Sigh." Juho intentionally erased the thought from his mind and focused solely on the story itself, ignoring that he was making choices in the first place or the burden that came from knowing that those choices could determine the overall quality of the novel. Simply, he wrote. The clock ticked away. A new year came, and a car rushed past. The wind blew into the room, and the room resonated with the mysterious movement. The refrigerator moaned in the kitchen, and the birds chirped. Time passed, and Juho's hands finally came to a stop. "I don't think I like this part." Although he knew that his progress was being hindered by his grief, Juho couldn't help himself. There was one particular sentence that bothered him, and Juho wrestled with it in his head. 'To be reasonable, it is the first draft, so I should be able to let it slide. I can always revise it later.' However, he still didn't feel internally at peace. There was something about the sentence that he wasn't fond of, and a mild annoyance welled up from within him. It bothered him like a small thorn under his fingernail, and Juho felt like it would continue to haunt him throughout the writing process. In which case, it wouldn't be a bad idea to change it now. After all, it wasn't like there was a deadline or like he had made any commitments. A bird chirped about, outside the window, and Juho rose from his seat to open the window for ventilation. A cool, refreshing breeze came rushing in, and had a soothing effect on the young writer. 'All right, let's fix this,' Juho thought to himself as he picked up a pen. First of all, he looked at the overall flow of the story. The narrator ran into the suspect and believed that they were the arsonist responsible for starting the fire. Then, the suspect said, "Fire can't do anything on its own. You have to keep your eyes on it." Next to him, was a gas stove spewing blue flames. Then, the suspect added, "God and fire have a lot in common." At that, the narrator asked, "What's that supposed to mean?" To which, the suspect answered, "I've never seen anyone so dependent of others." That was the suspect looking for the reason behind good and bad deeds. "With grace before them, people bow to God. And before sin, they ask that same God for forgiveness. The world was designed for us to seek God, and for God to live in it. Because of his survival tactics, countless innocent people have been getting sacrificed." The suspect spouted those words as he placed a pot of water on the stove, like a person who worshiped fire. It was a poor excuse to cover up their sins, and it was, simply put, impure. The narrator didn't accept those words, and the suspect whispered, ridiculing the narrator, "Everybody wants to be God." Although the suspect was responsible for his actions, it was the people around him who called out his name. People admired, suspected, or accused each other while claiming their innocence. It was a scene that Juho had included in order to indirectly describe those who desired to be understood by others around them while being afraid of being criticized. It was a rather crucial scene, and although it wasn't exactly bad, Juho felt that something was missing. So, he decided to try to modify it somehow. 'Maybe I should bring up the tension to the maximum. Coming to think of it, I haven't seen it once. Not once.' Juho thought to himself while thinking of a list of words that were similar to the one he was looking for. His head tilted to the side. 'I think it would be better to use a cleaner-sounding phrase here. What if the suspect was talking to God directly? "I've never seen anybody as dependent of others as you, God." No… it's awkward. What if I just reconstruct the sentence, altogether? "It was humans who made God, and God who depended on other people." A god. The God.' Juho flipped the page, which was filled with the same sentence written over and over again. After reciting the same sentence tens of times, he couldn't discern what was what. At that moment, he was struck by the sudden realization that he had been making the wrong choice all along, and that it had been holding back his progress significantly. "Sigh," Juho let out, wondering about the culprit responsible for leading him into a rut. --- "Is everything OK, Juho?" Bo Suk asked him as he buried his head on his desk. He was resting his cheek on the desk while staring at a corner of the chalkboard absentmindedly. He had been in the same state since he got to school, whether it was during class or recess, or even lunch. Even in the science room, where he had arrived earlier than usual, he was no different. He had been writing, wrestling with conflicting ideas and self-contradictions. It was a pigsty of a composition, in which the climax, doubt, fire, and the culprit were all scattered throughout. And after thinking long and hard for an entire week, Juho reached the decision to go with the first tone that he had initially thought of when he had first started writing. And now, he was on the verge of madness from how much he disliked what he had written up to that point. By the time he had recognized his regrets, it had been too late. So, Juho stopped writing in order to think. 'Who is the culprit, anyway? What am I writing?' He couldn't reach an answer, and just like that, time had passed. Time never waited for anything or anybody. "Juho?" "Thinking." At Juho's answer, Bo Suk blinked in confusion. "About what?" "About the identity of my piece." "... have you been writing?" "I always am." "But what made you think about that, all of a sudden?" The answer came from Seo Kwang, who was sitting next to Juho, "Isn't it obvious? He's having writer's block." "I'm not stuck," Juho denied him, and just like he had said, he wasn't stuck. If he were to write that very moment, he was confident that he would be able to. However, things were tangling up into a mess, and Juho now found the very uncertainty which he had once found pleasant, unpleasant. It felt like the entire story had lost its credibility, and doubt had spread throughout it. Juho knew by experience that if he were to continue writing in that state, he would end up wanting to erase everything down the line. And for that reason, he had stopped writing. However, Seo Kwang snickered. "We've been learning from Mr. Moon, so we know that nothing good can come out when your head is in a disarray and full of useless thoughts. You know what sucks even more, though? Those useless thoughts fill up our minds when we can't write," Seo Kwang said in an ominous tone of voice. "We're also aware that it's both easy and difficult to break out of that vicious loop." "Easy, but difficult?" "Sometimes, the problem practically solves itself with a very simple answer, but there are times when we ask the same question for years on end. That's what the human mind is like." "That sounds cumbersome." "That's what the human mind is like," Seo Kwang repeated himself. Then, Juho looked up from the desk and leaned against the backrest of the chair, staring at the ceiling. "I told you. It's not that I'm stuck. I'm just not fond of what's coming out." "How's that different? See, Bo Suk? This is how cumbersome it gets." Then, Bo Suk nodded in exaggeration, as if she was finally coming to grasp it all. Juho chuckled quietly as he stared at the same stain that had always been at the same spot on the ceiling. Trying to understand how he had gotten to where he was, Juho immersed himself in thought. It had all started with a single sentence, which he had not been at all fond of, 'Man, I should've just let it slide.' Unfortunately, it was always too late by the time regret took root in one's mind. From then on, Juho had become dissatisfied with his writing, as if he was perpetually concerned with useless things. Greed quickly puffed itself up, and it took on an innocent veneer: 'I want to write just a little better this time,' or 'I want to make sentences that are slightly better this time.' It was greed that had brought Juho to where he was now. "Identity. Culprit." The two words kept lingering in Juho's mind, disrupting his thoughts. 'Is he or it a hero, or a criminal? What am I trying to write? Is it just naturally chaotic? Is it supposed to hide the culprit's identity?' In hindsight, Juho had a feeling that he might have started on the wrong foot. 'I knew I had to talk to the man. I should've asked him more questions. Maybe it's not too late to build a culprit.' Juho dropped his head as his thoughts ran amok. The pain came rushing back after hitting his forehead on the desk. "That hurt," he muttered, and Seo Kwang said mockingly, "Boo-hoo! Do you need to go home?" "Yeah." With that, Juho rose from his seat and began to pack his bag. Although it was almost time for club activities, he didn't mind one bit. Then, he saw the dumbfounded look on Seo Kwang's face. "What the!? Are you serious!?" Yes, he was. "Where? Home? How would that help? Just ask Mr. Moon for help." "No, not home," Juho said, with another person in mind. The identity of the culprit. He knew the person who was most well-versed in writing about a culprit. 'I need to talk to her. She owes me for the interview, so things should work out, somehow.' "Bye," Juho said to his friends. Then, he went down to the staffroom and explained himself to Mr. Moon, who was just on his way to the science room. Swiftly getting Mr. Moon's approval, Juho walked out of the school. The air was crisp and fresh. "Hello?" And, he called Mideum in front of the main gate. By the time he had started to think that she wasn't going to answer, she answered her phone. "Mideum? Where are you right now?" "I'm at Dae Soo's." "Dae Soo's? What for?" Her voice sounded slightly hoarse as if she had just woken up. 'Is she there to kill time?' In that case, things were looking for the better. "To get help." 'Uh-oh.' It might not have been the best time to go to Mideum, after all. Her hoarse voice must have had nothing to do with her waking up. It was as if when Juho reached his hand out of the water, Mideum answered his call for help from underneath him. "What help? Have you been working on something?" "Yeah, a manuscript request. I have a deadline to meet, and I'm screwed." She explained that she was in the middle of writing for a detective magazine. At that, Juho contemplated what to do next. 'Should I go talk to another author? Mrs. Baek?' Then, he remembered what she had told him not too long ago, about San Jung having observed her teacher's writing process. "Can I come over, too?" Juho asked. "... Yun Woo? Come here? I mean, yeah, I'd be fine with that. I might be able to think of something while you're here… hold on." Then, Mideum passed on the word to Dae Soo, and Juho heard her voice through the receiver approving willingly from afar. With that, he made his way for the bus stop without delay.

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193 Burning Away 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "Come on in!" Dae Soo said, opening the door for Juho after he rang the bell. Since he had been there once previously, finding his way to the office wasn't all that difficult. There were numerous corporate buildings around, as well as people dressed in professional attire. As always, Dae Soo's office felt more like a rest area than an office, and the walls were covered with pictures. Also, like in Juho's previous visit, one of the walls was hidden behind a black curtain. The only thing different in the office had to be the miserable-looking author sitting in front of a laptop, as opposed to the author eating apple slices out of his lunch box. "I'm here, Mideum." "Yun Woo. Save me!" Mideum said with her limbs hanging limp, and Juho smiled awkwardly at the sight. "Deadline, don't do this to me. Have mercy!" she cried out as if having a nightmare. That was what an author looked like when they were being chased by a deadline, and there was no better way to describe it. Just as the word suggested, it was a chase, one where the author had to finish their work before the deadline caught up to them. "Deadlines have no feelings," Mideum said weakly. And just like said, deadlines were heartless. No matter how much an author begged it to wait for them, it didn't listen, only drawing closer to the helpless author. Merciless. It didn't shed tears or smile. "Deadlines don't have a body, either," Dae Soo said. Deadlines didn't have bodies, so they never got sick or grew weary. The idea of rest only applied to authors. Despite the essential needs authors had of having to eat and sleep, to their misery, deadlines drew closer day by day and with a disconcerting noise. "So, that would make deadlines time," Juho clarified their identity. Having no bodies or hearts, deadlines were time, and humans had always been desperate for its mercy, just like the author in front of Juho's eyes. "I see that you're in your uniform today? Are you done with school already?" "Yeah, something like that." "Well, have a seat. I'll bring out something to drink. Would you like something cold?" With that, Juho thanked Dae Soo and sat across from Mideum, who was glaring fiercely into the laptop screen with bloodshot eyes. She seemed to think that if she were to glare at it long enough, the laptop would give into fear and spew out the information she needed. It was the look of a colleague in anguish, wrestling with her work. Looking at her intently for a little while, Juho opened his mouth and asked, "Should I give detective novels a shot?" At that, the sound of what seemed like a bowl falling on the floor came from the distance. Then, Dae Soo came out of the kitchen, asking, "What!? Yun Woo? Writing a detective novel? Like, as a challenge to yourself?" "Haha." By adding a detective and an element of reason to the piece Juho had been working on, there was no reason not to call it a detective novel. Although he had never intended on turning it into one, nobody knew what the future held. After all, uncertainty was a shapeshifting trickster. The culprit hiding his identity became a hero, while a mother became a teacher. "... No." It was a quiet murmur. Mideum was burying her head on the table. "No, not now. You're a sneaky one, aren't you? Striking when your prey is most vulnerable…" Juho had no recollection of challenging her, but what he did know was that he was finding her eyes peeking through her hair covering her face quite terrifying. Before she went on any further, he shook his head in a hurry. "No, no. There's a piece I'm working on." "Is it a detective novel?" "Well…" "Thriller? Grotesque?" "Would you listen for a minute?" Her bloodshot eyes followed Juho's movements. "Well, I've been kind of in a rut. There is a culprit, but no detective. Tension, but it's not enough to be scary." "Ambiguous." "It's unclear, I know. I kind of liked it at first, but now, I'm trapped by it." After thinking for a brief moment, Mideum asked, "What about finding more answers in your fantasy? Like a true novelist." Unfortunately, that was no longer possible because Juho had trampled on what had been left of the man as he melted away from the heat: his mouth. The man no longer had the mouth he would need to answer Juho's questions. Besides, Juho wasn't entirely sold on that idea. With that, Juho decided to give her a brief explanation of his situation. "So, I'm here to get some advice from you." "I've got my own issues, man," Mideum said, still burying her head on the table. It was a familiar sight, and seeing it, Dae Soo clicked her tongue with pity. "Getting sick is just an everyday thing for you now, huh?" "It's because you kept saying that I was coming down with a cold. I'm terrified of feeling like this in between seasons." For some reason, seeing her drowning in anguish didn't seem all that foreign to Juho. "Really? You're blaming me, now?" "Argh! Whatever! You're too heartless toward a patient." As Mideum muttered something about having a drink, Dae Soo swiftly ignored her whining and made her way to the kitchen, bringing back a can of beer and a cup of green tea. "As you can see, she might not be in a place to offer any advice at the moment." With that, the crisp sound of a can opening resonated throughout the office. To which, Mideum responded at once, "Yeah, you're THE Yun Woo, a fairy who can fly to fantasy land whenever it wishes. Fly away, already." "Speaking of which, you have the incredible ability to act and sound like a drunkard even without the power of alcohol, don't you?" "What'd you say!?" Mideum said, furrowing her brow. Then, Juho said, "Yun Pil was not at all like a fairy." At that, her face lit up all of a sudden. "So, you read it! I thought he was such a charming character even though I'm the one who came up with him. You like it too, right?" "I got made fun of by Geun Woo, saying that the character was arrogant as all heck, just like me." "Made fun of?! I swear, that Geun Woo doesn't know what he's talking about. The shameless rich or the clumsy genius have been some of the most popular characters in the history of literature. On top of that, I added a little spoonful of my conviction as an author. Yun Pil is such a charming character… to the point of threatening Dr. Dong's place!" "Well, thanks to you, a lot of people have been overlapping my image with his." "Which means a lot of people read my book, right?" Although it was a strange thing to be optimistic about, Mideum seemed to be quite proud of how her character had turned out. And at the sight of that, Juho wondered what the point of her previous interview with him had been. Then, he remembered why he was there. The whole reason for him to go all the way to Dae Soo's office had nothing to do with Yun Pil. "How do you usually go about writing?" "Writing?" Mideum asked back at Juho's unexpected question. "Yes, writing." At that, she rolled her eyes away from Juho, saying, "You just write. What else is there to it?" "Yeah, right," Dae Soo said mockingly. "Who are you trying to fool? Remember how pissed off your neighbors were whenever you started writing? That's why you decided to get an office to begin with." "Oh, c'mon, Dae Soo! Way to spill the beans while Yun Woo here telling us that he's working on a detective novel." "What secrets can you possibly have? You'd tell everything if a reporter were to walk in through that door and ask questions." At the word reporter, Mideum clenched her lips tightly. She was well aware of her prior deeds, remembering the trouble she had caused. In any case, the fact that Mideum was being so defensive had to mean that there was something. "I'd like to see what it is like," Juho said instead of asking a question. "See what?" Mideum muttered. "Your writing process, which your neighbors couldn't stand." Reporter. Interview. Visit. Revealing information. As Juho brought up those words, one by one, Mideum's brow began to narrow more and more. And eventually, she chugged the cold water in Juho's cup without hesitation. "Fine. I might be able to figure something out along the way, too" It could be a win-win situation. Dae Soo, too, seemed quite pleased with what was about to take place, and Mideum rose from her seat in order to prepare herself. "Dae Soo, you mind if I move the desk in the living room over there?" "Sure." "I'll do it." The three moved it swiftly and made space in the living room." --- Mideum gave Juho a brief explanation of the plot of the piece she was currently working on, which was a story that incorporated elements of dancing, murder, and detective work. Also the narrator of the story, the protagonist was a student majoring in dance who had lost her friend and was searching for the murderer responsible. Then, Juho saw Mideum in the spacious living room, holding her laptop in her hands. There was always a culprit in her stories, who used various excuses to commit crimes. The well-known detective was merciless toward them, and so were the victims and/or their families and friends. The culprits remained culprits until the end in Mideum's novels, and were given no other name. While that was an element that her fans had polarizing responses to, the author stood her ground, not giving into negotiations of any sort. Juho, on the other hand, was quite fond of her novels. "Where in the novel are you stuck?" "The part where the culprit gets revealed. It's the climax, but it just felt lukewarm." Fans of detective novels tended to be quite enthusiastic. While being well-acquainted with tricks and devices within the novel, they enjoyed the mystery, challenging the detective and solving the case alongside them. Detective work was both beautiful and powerful, and had an uncanny resemblance to both hunting and thinking games. There was a reason that those were hobbies of the noble families in Europe. There were countless detectives in modern society, and having survived the competition as a detective writer, Mideum had standards that were very harsh, which was why she was in despair before her craft, as if coming down with a cold. Looking at her own writing, Mideum's brow began to narrow. It was clear that she was getting frustrated, and the frustration on her face drew closer to Juho's. Then, putting down her laptop, she pulled out her hand. "Grab my hand." At that, Juho stared at her hand in confusion. "What for?" "You said you wanted to see it." "I didn't mean your hand." "The writing process," she said, lowering her hand impatiently. Then, reading a passage on the manuscript, she collapsed onto her knees, onto the floor. "Ahh! I'll never forget this! I'm going to find him and bring him to justice. No matter what it takes!" Then, she went even further, grabbing her head and groaning in pain. "Ughhhhh." At the bizarre sound coming out of the author, Juho took a step back, questioning Dae Soo, who was drinking a beer. "What's this about?" "Acting." Authors each had their own way of writing, and among them, were those who acted out the characters within their novels. Mideum was one of them. "She always makes a commotion whenever she's writing. It makes sense that her neighbors were so unhappy, right?" There were quite a few scenes in Mideum's novels that included use of a weapon or a description of a person writhing in pain or struggling while being on the verge of death. Due to the nature of her novels, a commotion like that had to be a necessity. "Did anybody call the cops on her?" "Not yet." Despite Juho and Dae Soo's conversation, Mideum stayed focused on her acting. It was a writing process that suited her expressive personality very well. Although the vocalization needed work, the emotions in her performance were quite impressive and comparable to professional actors. If Sang Young were to have seen her, he wouldn't have hesitated to cast her. "Ah!" At that sound of what seemed to be sudden realization, the acting came to an abrupt stop, and Mideum stood up with a bright expression on her face. 'Did she think of something?' Juho wondered, realizing that the detective writer had her eyes fixated on him. Just as the young author was about to realize that he had a bad feeling about what was to come, Mideum opened her mouth and asked, "Would you like to try?" Of course. Juho took a step back, and Mideum came a step closer. "Me? How?" "You have what it takes. You're Yun Woo. Seize the opportunity, become the hero that discovers who the culprit is. Be fancy. Stylish. Don't let anything hold you back. I know from experience that something good comes out when I refer to you," Mideum said. She seemed like she was fully intending on using Juho's acting as reference for her writing. Unfortunately, Juho wasn't a detective, so he was incapable of doing any detective work. Although he declined Mideum's offer repeatedly, she was already mesmerized by her own idea. "You can do this," she said, explaining the alibis and the evidence that pointed toward the suspect to Juho. The time of the crime, motive, suspicious behaviors, doubts, and the most likely suspect. Although the words each carried an unmistakable presence, Juho remained confused and clueless. The main characters were the dance instructor and the students. Then, Mideum pulled out her hand again. "Dance with me." Left with no choice, Juho took her hand. Then, the detective writer said, "The culprit is in here."

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194 Burning Away 4

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Involving a man and a woman, the waltz was one of the standard social dances in the nineteenth century. Typically danced to a comfortable tempo, the people danced in circles that were, simply put, relaxed and sophisticated. "Why are we dancing?" Juho asked. "It's part of my daily life." Mideum was already immersed in her character. The student majoring in dance was both the detective and the narrator of the story. Despite the epic waltz music Dae Soo had put on in the background, Juho stood still, like a statue. "What kind of character is she?" "Outgoing and with a strong inclination toward justice. She's a great dancer, too." "What about her dead friend?" "The second best." "And the culprit?" At that, Mideum laughed and said, "Who knows?" That was the only answer she could give since she was yet to find the culprit. "Tell me what the dance studio looks like." "There are mirrors everywhere so that the students can see what they look like when they dance." From then on, Mideum went on in great detail about the interior of the studio, from the square-shaped floor to the mirrors surrounding the studio, the teacher, her two older couples, a younger couple learning as a hobby, and finally, the protagonist. The studio was located in a basement, which made it less susceptible to intruders. On the day of the crime, the protagonist had the key on her in order to use the studio on her own, turning everyone else into suspects. Everyone was looking for the culprit, and she saw a red fire extinguisher in the corner of the studio, collecting dust. Her dance was quite revealing of her state of anxiety, and like the detective in the novel, she had the ability to look at things from the most objective point-of-view. At the same time, there was a fiery desire for revenge hidden within her. Juho imagined the look on the six students, and the six pairs of legs, the sounds of the dancers' feet stomping the floor, and their costumes, which accentuated their choreography. There were mirrors all around the studio reflecting every one of the dancer's moves as they danced to the loud music in the background. Juho, too, moved his feet according to the music, and found his foot under Mideum's. "Didn't you say she was a great dancer?" "I sure did." "And her dead friend was the second best?" "Yep." Although the pain in his foot was quite distracting, Juho tried to focus in acting out the scene. Twelve eyes, sixty toes, and mirrors that reflected every little thing. Then, Mideum briefly stepped away from Juho, spun in place, and returned to Juho, murmuring, "Natural pivot-turn, Rudolph-Ronde, reverse-pivot." It was the name of the dance move in her novel. However, it had actually looked very different. While Mideum leaned back, Juho clenched his teeth and supported her with every bit of strength in his body. His hands shook. 'What am I writing?' Juho had come to Dae Soo's office for help because his story shook at its foundation. The very existence of the culprit had a destructive effect on the overall structure, muddying up the plot. Then, Juho decided… 'Eh. Might as well catch the culprit.' Rather than catching the culprit in his novel, the young author blindly hoped that he would find some sort of inspiration as he helped Mideum catch the culprit in her novel. "Ow!" "Sorry." That time, it was Juho who stepped on Mideum's foot. Then, the time came for him to decide how he would go about catching the culprit. Juho looked down while still dancing. He had two legs and ten toes. Although in a gorgeous looking dress and tuxedo, the dancers didn't quite fit them. While the red fabric danced along with the dancer wearing the dress, the men in their suits didn't look as impressive, giving the impression that they had rented theirs. With the exception of the students in the hobby class, who watched the practice while looking depressed from their lack of progress in losing weight, everyone else had been practicing for the amateur competition. The class schedule was written on one of the walls. While some wore clothes that were stained, others wore shoes that they had borrowed from other people, after forgetting to bring their own. The person with the ambiguous alibi was dancing with the witness, who had witnessed something suspicious about their partner. The music filled the room, and people danced in circles. When Juho looked in the mirror, he saw a reflection of himself dancing with the protagonist. The mirrors reflected every little thing in the room, especially the movement of the dancers. 'Who's the murderer?' "I have no idea." "C'mooon!" "I told you, I'm not a detective." For that reason, Juho decided to take a blind guess. "It's not the narrator, is it?" At that, the corner of Mideum's mouth turned up, indicating that he was wrong. "What made you think that?" "She has a clear motive, like jealousy, for example." It was conjecture based on the fact that the friend had been the second best dancer in the class next to the narrator, and Mideum delighted in Juho's inaccurate guess. "Unfortunately, the detective can't be the culprit at the same time," Mideum said, stating one of the general rules in detective novels. There were rules made by some of the greatest detective writers in history, and when they were broken, the novels quickly lost their charms, and the detective work became lackluster. Of course, the detective novel wasn't a sport, so readers didn't have to worry about being disqualified or getting a yellow card. It was for that reason that there was an increasing number of authors who were trying to break away from the cliches of the genre. Then, Juho thought back on the rules he knew vaguely. 'Do not make twins or the servant the culprit. Don't obsess over descriptions. The detective shouldn't be the culprit. There cannot be more than one detective. The culprit must have made an appearance from the start, and the culprit has to be a character of significance.' "Do you have an idea now?" Mideum asked. "Would you care to enlighten us, Mr. Detective?" "I told you, I'm not a detective!" Juho was an author incapable of any detective work. However, he did have an idea of what was happening around the world, and right before his eyes, was the very creator of a story that was worth exploring. Then, Juho said, "It's the teacher, isn't it?" At that moment, the music stopped abruptly, marking the end of the awkward dance session. Juho looked intently into Mideum's eyes right in front of him. "... What made you think that?" the author asked, clearly flustered. Bingo. "Am I right?" "Nope." "Are you sure?" "... I asked you a question! If you're a detective, you gotta be able to back up your conjecture." "I noticed that you're talking faster. Your eyes are moving busily, and your lips are tense, which all leads me to believe that you're lying." "Are you probing me?" "I wanted to know what it was like to sound like a famous detective," Juho said light-heartedly and with a smile. At which point, Mideum grew impatient. "Well, how are you gonna prove it? Are you planning on accusing an innocent citizen of being a criminal?" At that, Juho was made certain. "I'm the culprit." The mirrors reflected every little thing vividly: Juho dancing with the protagonist, students practicing for the upcoming competition, those who were dancing as a hobby, and lastly, the detective and the culprit. There were eight people in total. Although Mideum had called herself the detective, the protagonist never did, and there couldn't be more than one detective. Juho was merely a reader imitating a detective. He was fully aware that there was no room for him in the novel. In that case, who was he? What role did he serve and play? Was he a nobody? Mideum had clearly given Juho a role, and her putting out her hand was further proof of that. The waltz was a dance in which a man and woman danced together, and Juho was the protagonist's partner, and the only person who could have danced with her in the setting described by the narrator was the teacher. With the exception of Juho and the protagonist, there were six people. Eight, in total. Without even knowing, Juho had been playing the role of the teacher dancing with the protagonist. On top of that, if he had been the author… "The culprit really is here." Although redundant on the surface, Juho was referring to reality rather than the novel. There was a culprit in Dae Soo's living room, and it was none other than himself. "Oh, c'mon!" Mideum let out, scowling. "What is this!? Does this have anything to do with you being Yun Woo? Is that how you're able to figure it out like that?" she said, pulling her hair out for reasons different from before. Meanwhile, Dae Soo simply watched, laughing heartily. In the end, it had been up to Juho to stop Mideum. "Mideum, please. You won't have any hair left at that rate. You wanted me to figure it out, didn't you?" "I told you to seize the opportunity, become the detective! With style! Without hesitation! Ugh, what the heck! Why do you always have to be right!? You should've just kept giving me wrong answers, so that I could AT LEAST have SOME confidence in my work! I got nothing out of this but wounds. Why!? Why is it that you know!? Was it… was it too easy? Is that what it was? Do I have to rewrite the whole thing?" There was no need to rewrite anything. Juho had only been able to reach the answer because of the hint Mideum had given him: the dance. He had guessed, adding an explanation that would make sense, and most of all, Juho felt at peace because the author was right in front of him. However, no matter what Juho said, Mideum kept muttering, still looking upset. "You know what? Yeah, I was too confident. I got cocky because of how successful the Dr. Dong series was. Don't be content, just yet. Oh, no. You have a ways to go, my friend, because my readers are so much smarter than you!" Mideum said, as if about to rewrite her entire novel at any given minute. Then, Juho asked Dae Soo, "What do I do?" "Just let her be. If she misses her deadline, that's on her," she said indifferently and asked, "Well, what about you? Did you get anything out of this?" At that, Juho took out his flash drive and asked without delay, "Can I use your computer?" Then, giving him permission willingly, Dae Soo led him to another room in her office. "You can work here. It might take some getting used to, but you'll be able to work in peace. As for that troublemaker, she'll calm down once I feed her." "Thank you." Then, as Dae Soo closed the door on her way out, Juho opened the manuscript at once, deleting everything he had written while obsessing over the existence of the culprit, which turned out to be about twenty-pages worth of material. Despite the seeming loss, he felt at peace internally, and everything became much clearer. What his novel, which pretended to a detective novel while hiding behind the mask of thriller, really needed was truth. "A story about self-identity." Asking whether the protagonist was a criminal or a hero was not the right question. The answer couldn't be found in other people. The proper question, which was the core of the novel, was: 'Am I a criminal or a hero?' Overseer, subject, me, myself, an individual. It was an existence that had many names, causing confusion in the young author's mind. It was the story that he had thought of after meeting the man in front of the fire. Juho had had a selfish perception of the other person, thinking that the man in the hospital gown had been a hero at one point and suspecting him of being a criminal in the next. Juho became Yun Woo, and Yun Woo became Yun Pil. 'Who am I?' The narrator of his novel was an adult who looked up to heroes while despising criminals. However, he had to be capable of being both a hero and a criminal and he needed to change. He grew mature as he aged. Then, Juho kept on with the plot in his head and reached the end. It was the conclusion, as well as the climax. He wanted to remove the boundary between the narrator and the world outside of him, and before the appearance of a hero, the story came to an abrupt end before the culprit was caught. 'Who am I?' Juho decided to take a different direction in the way he portrayed the narrator, a contradictory one to his previous portrayal. Juho brought all the suspects together, taking away their names. It was one of the more obvious boundaries that separated the subject from object. Parents, background, wealth, fame. Juho took everything away from the characters, one by one, until they were left only with their voices. They all shared mutual desires and opinions. They were innocent, and although they conversed with each other, it played out as a monologue. 'Just a little more. What about using a mirror?' Juho felt something heavy in his stomach. There had to be a little bit more. Otherwise, the story wouldn't be enough to surpass 'River.' As greed began to creep up yet again, Juho took a moment to take a deep breath. He had to focus on his piece. 'How can I write something that I'd be satisfied with? Good and bad deeds. Coexistence. Spear and shield. Contradiction. Two people. "Writing style." It seemed like the perfect time to introduce his readers to a different style.

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195 Burning Away 5

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "That's it!" Dae Soo shoved a cookie into Mideum's mouth as Mideum's voice grew louder. "Quiet." "Oh, right. Yun Woo's here," Mideum said in a lowered voice and chewed the cookie in her mouth fiercely. Yun Woo was writing on the other side of the tightly-shut door. "Should we watch him write for a little bit?" "You must be feeling pretty confident about your progress," Dae Soo said like a warning. At which point, Mideum redirected her attention to her laptop filled with words. Every single one of them had been for the Dr. Dong series. All because she had thought of what kind of clues the detective would get out of Yun Pil, the author. "They said they'll push the deadline back, so it's fine. I'll just have to write it again." "You know, I feel sorry for your editor." Mideum typed away, pretending not to hear Dae Soo. The detective fiction writer was in a much better mood after the extension. Humming while writing the plot of her next volume, Mideum suggested, "What should we eat later? Should we go out with Juho while he's here?" "He might go home to write." "Well, we can just go on our own, then. We each got what we were looking for from each other." Dae Soo smiled as she looked at the two authors hard at work in her office, thinking of ways to turn the situation into a story. And Juho, having written and losing track of time, went straight home after fighting off the pleas of the two authors, who were tempting him with an outing and a meal. --- Met with a warm welcome from her fans, Yun Seo's new full-length novel began to take over bookstores. While impressive to readers, her writing also carried emotions that resonated deep within the readers. The homey feel of her style allowed her readers, overcome by the busyness of city life, to get away from their suffocating daily reality, giving them a breath of fresh air, as if standing on the earth in the countryside. It left her readers full and satisfied, and it was also generous and abundant like her cooking, gently putting out the remnants of the fire that burned deep within a person. However, it was that very reason that kept Juho from reading the novel. He had been keeping the book on his shelf, afraid that it would put out even the fire that he was writing about. "You wanna read it, huh?" Seo Kwang asked, catching onto Juho's struggle. The young author answered honestly, "Yeah." Then, Seo Kwang came alive all the more, brushing his hand down his own copy of Yun Seo's new book exaggeratedly. However, it was no different from his usual demeanor. "You got work to do, Mr. Woo. You can't afford to be influenced by other people's works." "Oh, my! Is he listening to himself?!" Sun Hwa let out, scowling instead of Juho. There were pages of manuscript paper scattered about in front of her. Of course, Seo Kwang wasn't looking to stop any time soon. "I believe you also have work to do, ma'am. Gotta work hard on that piece for the school festival!" "How are you so confident when you're not even taking part in it?" "It's not like I'm doing anything wrong. Why should I be the guilty one?" "Of course, you are! Guilty of disrupting someone who's writing!" Then, Bom whispered from the side, "Sun Hwa, you're the loudest one here." She, too, was wrestling with her piece. Like in the previous year, the Literature Club members had decided to exhibit their work in the library for the upcoming school festival. While Sun Hwa and Bom had decided to partake in it, Seo Kwang had decided to sit out. "How are things looking for you?" Juho asked, and Bom shook her head quietly and complained, "It almost feels like it's harder than last year. Maybe I'm backsliding? I just can't seem to make any progress." Despite her anguish, that struggle meant that she had become better acquainted with writing. "It's supposed to be that way. Everyone's figuring it out as they go. You know how you find yourself wondering how you were so brave when you think back to the past? Well, that's because the more ignorant we are, the more daring we become." "Does that mean I know better, now?" Bom asked, resting her chin on hand and glaring fiercely at her manuscript. What hindered her progress was greed and fear. She wanted to write well and better than in the previous year. However, that was the very source of her fear. Fear of disappointment and not being able to satisfy her greed. It was a rather complicated emotion. Then, having listened from the side, Bo Suk asked, "In that case, how come I'm not making any progress? Is it because I'm both ignorant and cowardly?" "No. That's because you're still getting used to writing." "Yeah. Inexperience suits our precious freshman a lot better than ignorance. In fact, there is potential in inexperience. Keep refining it, and you're bound to end up with a sparkling gem," Seo Kwang said, encouraging the freshman in the middle of bickering with Sun Hwa. That year's festival would be Bo Suk's first time writing for an audience, and rightfully so, she looked somewhat excited while obviously concerned. Just like Bom, she also had to be anxious. However, there was a difference in what the two members were feeling. One's fear before the storm was not the same as the fear within the storm, and there was no significance in deciphering which was greater. "I guess that makes Baron the only person in this room who's not in a rut," Juho murmured while looking in his direction. Wearing a confident smile, the sole artist in the club was just about to finish his colorful sketch of the club members. "I mean, I am the ace of the club." "Wow! Such arrogance!" "You gotta admit the truth." Despite the bitter look on her face, Sun Hwa didn't argue against Baron's confident remark. After all, he really was multitalented. While an impressive runner, Baron had shown talents in finding words and creating sentences. On top of that, he was also a talented artist. And he was, inarguably, the sole artist in the club. "You know, your shamelessness is second to none, Baron." "He's a professional at eating alone, too." "Not to mention how skilled he is at tooting his own horn." Despite the remarks that sounded both like insults and compliments, Baron maintained his confident look. Then, Sun Hwa asked, "How are things going with your graduation? You've been busy as of late." Being a third year, Baron would be graduating high school that year, and he hadn't been able to come to the club activities lately to prepare for the university entrance exams. "It's been a hassle." "You're looking into the arts, right?" "I've definitely thought about it." Whether or not one had the desire to learn, they had to go to a university, and as strange as that sounded, sentences like that permeated the entire world. "You have decent grades, don't you, Baron?" "You can say that. Although, I don't know if 'decent' will cut it." "Are you trying to get into a school in Seoul?" "Not sure. It's hard to say. My entire experience is made of activities I did in school. I don't know what will happen to me if I get into a school… or if I never get into one. I don't know what I'm capable of aside from drawing or studying, either," Baron said. Seeing his distinctively white teeth, Juho remembered the surprise on people's faces when they found out that Baron couldn't speak a word of English. "Well, I'm gonna give it a shot, anyway. If I don't like it, I'll quit," the sole artist in the club said emphatically. "You'll do fine. Besides, you're the one who joined the Literature Club wanting to draw." "I think so, too." With that, Juho redirected his attention to the manuscript paper in front of him, which wasn't for the school festival. "Juho's not participating this year, so we have to try even harder." "Break a leg." It was about self-identity. The story was nearing the end, and as he had planned, Juho had to write in a different style from Yun Woo's, which had kept his identity hidden while allowing him to reveal himself to the ones he trusted. It was that very element that Juho planned on including in Yun Woo's new novel, tearing down the boundary between himself and the author, just like the characters in the novel. First, he started with two characters: White and Black. White was a good character with a strong inclination toward justice, and who was also a respected figure of society while maintaining a stable social position. Black, on the other hand, was a bad character with a strong inclination toward evil. Dominant and possessing deep-seated insecurities, Black tended to get excited at the sight of fire. The two characters were mere emotions, divided only by their names, White and Black. They lived deep within a person's heart as simple lumps of feelings, coexisting and competing. The results, never permanent, were ever-changing. That was the very challenge Juho had been facing: to remove all humanity from the characters while simultaneously having them look like humans on the surface. At which point, the readers would be left only with chaos and an arbitrary understanding of those characters, and that was exactly what Juho wanted. There were a total of eight suspects, and Juho had removed all the unnecessary components getting to that point. From their parents to their siblings and friends, the young author had isolated everyone who knew White and Black from them. The objects that would prove the identity of the culprit had lost their credibility, and the witnesses themselves no longer had any power in their words. Without understanding the true nature of the game they were playing, everyone in the novel focused on the meaningless search for a thief never to be sought by the cruel, unfair world. Although the characters each fought desperately in order to make themselves known to each other, they each had priorities of their own and, over time, they came to realize how weak they had been in their process of trying to prove themselves. Although having loved shrimp as a child, the culprit eventually developed a shrimp allergy as an adult. He had underwent a double-eyelid surgery at the age of twenty and had conflicting memories of his first kiss, unable to decide if it took place in front of his house or under a tree at a park. The man had no idea why he had to be born or to die, or where his life was heading. However, if his significant other were to appear before his eyes and tell him that their first kiss had been at the beach, he wouldn't hesitate to abandon his vague memories and nod in agreement with her, saying, "Yeah, that's right. I remember how gorgeous that beach was." As if practicing, Juho wrote away on his paper, giving new shape to the lump of clay he had gotten hold of previously and leaving a new set of fingerprints, which were different from the preexisting ones. Writing a story of such nature tended to suck the author in, and Juho had to remind himself, 'I am me, and nobody can change that, no matter what they say.' It was an unshakeable belief, which called for no evidence or witness in order to prove its validity. Whether it was trouble or happiness, every part of his life belonged to him, and he had no intention of handing it over to another person. "Oh, this is good!" "I saw it at a shop that just opened up near my place. I'll take you there one of these days." It was a snack that Bom had brought out. Juho, too, took a piece of the chocolate covered in cocoa powder and brought it up to his mouth. It was delightful. If he were to find out that such happiness belonged to another person, Juho wouldn't forgive them… no matter who they were. "Uh-oh. You dropped it." "Hey! Your manuscript!" Knowing that the manuscript was none other than Yun Woo's, the club members all made a fuss. However, Juho himself looked at the paper indifferently, certain that the culprit in his novel wouldn't forgive him for the dark chocolate stain on the manuscript paper. "Yo! You call yourself an author!? Have some respect for your work!" brushing the cocoa powder off of the pages as if it were a treasure box, Seo Kwang criticized Juho. Then, he stared intently at the letters that filed the manuscript paper and asked, "Which language is this written in?" "I don't have a name for it." It was a language that Juho had made up, and Juho asked light-heartedly, "Why? Are you curious about the content? Would you like to know?" "Oh, no, no, no," Seo Kwang declined emphatically while still keeping his eyes fixed on the manuscript. "You said you're near the end, right? Does that mean it's gonna be published, soon?" "I can't promise that." Just as Juho had said, there was no promise. Writing in two distinctively styles was much more difficult than one would imagine. Of course, writing two separate stories in different styles was not an issue, but the risk was when they both existed in the same manuscript. There was no way to predict what would happen. While it would be a success if readers were to find it original and shocking, it would be a failure if the difference in the styles disrupted the reading experience. If the two coexisting styles were to create a sense of disconnect, Juho would be better off not gambling. There was simply too much at stake. He would risk ruining the overall plot and flow of the story during the transitions of the styles. Although it would be in his best interest to keep the contrast of the two styles somewhere between discomfort and a sense of escalation, Juho wanted to get as close as possible at the most sensitive places. Unfortunately, writing often left no time for such intricate calculations. In the end, an author had to write a large amount and often try a number of times. Then, revisions would follow. With hope that it would be refined to its most ideal shape possible, Juho kept writing.

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196 We All Graduate 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl "How are things going?" Bom asked amid the noise that filled the classroom. While turned to look at him, Juho remained focused on the manuscript on his desk. "Hard to say." "Yet, you'll probably end up writing something that will blow everyone out of the water." "I sure hope so." Then, Bom rolled her eyes around for a little while and said, "I saw somebody crying while reading my story." At that, Juho looked up and saw an expression that was somewhat bashful, but proud. It was a feeling that he understood wholeheartedly. Some authors even made it a goal of their work, which only made sense considering how powerful of an experience it was to know that their work had become the source of their readers' tears. "That's great!" Juho said genuinely, and just like he had said, Bom really was a great writer. At his compliment, she turned bright red from the neck up. "No, no, no. You shouldn't be the one to tell me something like that. It's embarrassing. Besides, it was my mom. My mom was crying while reading my story, and that's because she's my mom," Bom said, looking down and waving her hand in emphatic denial. However, she had to know that who the subject was was of very little importance in the matter. "It felt good, didn't it?" "Yeah." "Wasn't it a touching moment?" Then, thinking and rolling her eyes around for a brief moment, Bom smiled again. And from then on, that smile remained on her face. "Was it a touching moment for you, too?" At her question, Juho thought back to the time when he had felt a similar joy. It was quite some time ago. "I was way too excited. It was kind of embarrassing." At least until his readers began to turn their backs on his work, which was an emotion Bom was yet to experience. If she were to keep on writing, she was bound to experience it herself, eventually. "I want to give writing a try…" Then, Juho looked at Bom, who seemed to have made up her mind to become an author. She was mesmerized the moment she realized the power in her writing. It became a dream and a goal. Then, after a brief pause, she added, "... but I don't dare think about becoming like you." After all, she was well aware that it would be impossible. Although her voice wasn't all that loud, Juho heard it quite clearly in midst of the commotion in the classroom. "So, I want to start writing and to learn more." She had made her choice. "Right." … and Juho answered briefly. Juho was going to root for her, whether she would achieve her goal or not, and as if satisfied by his brief response, she turned around with a short word of encouragement to Juho, her long hair moving ever so slightly. She would choose to go in the direction that she had said she would. In the midst of the noisy classroom, Juho looked down at his manuscript paper. Another writing style was also proof that he really did come back from the dead and that his past had not been an illusion. The writing style of a boy who had been embarrassingly excited. The writing style of a middle-aged, alcoholic man. There was a time when Juho was told that his writing was like wet, heavy sand, fresh out of the water. The water kept the grains from flying off. Then, at the sudden caw of a crow, Juho looked toward it as it peeked its head above the window. The crow was a grisly creature that would show up out of nowhere and observe the young writer, and to that day, Juho had never seen it fly. Then, he remembered the reader who told him about the sand. In a place filled with books, she had expressed the sincere hope that he would write another story. At that moment, the bell rang, yet the students remained just as boisterous. Juho picked up his pen since there was nothing left that would bother him. ---- "Let's have some fun!" "Let's eat!" "Let's have a good time!" A series of voices sounded from the crowd. The school festival had begun, and unlike usual, the building had been decorated elaborately with all sorts of colors and shapes. People of all ages came in and out of the gate, looking all the more lively. Unfortunately, there were bound to be those who were being exploited for labor behind the scenes. Seo Kwang and Sun Hwa were busy cooking up a concoction fittingly called "toast with the devil's jam," and Juho, too, wasn't exempt from having to participate since his class had decided to get involved in the festival. On the crudely-made picket sign in his hand, there was a glued piece of paper that read "wholesome cocktails." Contrary to what the name suggested, the reality was that the cocktails were no more than non-alcoholic soft drinks. Juho walked around the entire first floor full of freshmen experiencing the school festival as high school students for the first time with the picket sign in his hand. "Juho!" a voice called out for him. When Juho turned toward it, it was none other than Bo Suk, except she was covered in what seemed like blood. "Whoa, that looks real!" "Right?! It's my middle school uniform." Just like her face, her uniform was covered in what had to be either paint or some sort of makeup product. "I'm also in charge of dances in my class," she said. "But what's with the costume?" "Our theme is 'Dancing with Monsters.'" "A-ha." It was quite an eccentric setting. Then, Juho saw that Bo Suk was also wearing a band with a promotional phrase across her uniform. She, too, was responsible for advertising for her class. "You should come too, Juho! Come dance with me!" "No, thanks. I've had my fill of dancing." "Aw, why?" Then, Juho felt the top of his foot getting sore. "Speaking of which, if you ever get thirsty walking around, come to my class." "You mean the cocktails? Are you guys serving alcohol?" "No way. It's just soft drinks with a touch of something." "I'll be there!" Bo Suk smiled brightly, but despite her intention, her smile gave off a rather grotesque expression, especially with the red substance painted all over her lips. Then, before parting ways, Juho added, "I enjoyed your piece." "... Thank you. I mean, I still have a ways to go, but thank you!" Again, despite her intention, her sparkling eyes conveyed a message that was quite different from the one she was trying to convey. After coming down to the first floor, people looked at him oddly as he walked around with the picket sign on his shoulder. Aside from shouting "Cocktails! Come get your cocktails," there were no other activities involved in his role. Although he wondered very briefly if he should have worn makeup like Bo Suk, he quickly reached the conclusion that he would rather not. While walking through the hallway toward the entrance at the first floor, Juho saw that there was a sociable-looking male student with a striking resemblance to a monkey, shouting, "Get your newspaper!" The volume of his voice was rather impressive. Then, as Juho approached him in order to get a copy of the newspaper for himself, the monkey-like student recognized him and said, "Why, who do we have here? It's Mr. Woo!" "What's with the formality? Just call me by my name," Juho said, feeling uncomfortable. "Oh, that's no way to treat a former interviewee," the monkey said, looking at the picket in Juho's hand. Then, taking the newspaper from the monkey's hand, Juho advertised for his class, "If you ever get thirsty at any point, come by." "Do I get a free drink if I mention your name?" "I doubt it. My name wouldn't be worth enough for that." "Then, I'll pass," the monkey declined rather emphatically. However, since Juho wasn't trying to make a profit, the way people responded to his advertisement didn't really matter. Then, in order to take a quick break, he put down his picket sign, took a seat somewhere, and opened his newspaper, which contained news about the school, along with a directory and a list of sceneries found throughout school, done through a collaboration with the Photography Club. From night views from late night study sessions to flowers and classrooms, there was quite an array of pictures in the newspaper, and of course, the names of the photographers were next to each of the pictures. Among them, was a name Juho was also familiar with, one that had been next to a picture of a frog. "It's different from last year. Are there no interviews this year?" At Juho's question, the monkey stopped handing out newspapers and turned his head to Juho, glaring fiercely at him for an unknown reason. "That's because SOMEBODY wouldn't write again." "But there's no one else at school who would interview me aside from you." The monkey clenched his lips tightly in response to that, and as Juho blinked awkwardly, waiting for elaboration, the monkey added, "You know, I believed wholeheartedly that you would write the best piece of writing this year." "Hm." "But you know what your answer was when I went to you? 'I've got nothing to show you.'" Juho had no recollection of saying anything like that. It had to be the creative touch of the Newspaper Club. "And just like that, the three-part interview I had been planning went down the drain." 'Well, you're the only one who planned for it and celebrated way too early, so what more do you have to say?' Juho thought, deciding not to say it out loud. And the monkey kept on with his resentful remarks, "If you're an author, shouldn't you be writing constantly? I wouldn't really know since I'm not one, but it's still your club activity. How is it that you're so free-spirited? Shouldn't you have a stricter routine? I mean, how else would I find a consistent topic for my interviews, am I right?" "I need to go," Juho said, realizing that there wouldn't be an end to his story. Then, picking up the picket sign and with the rolled up newspaper at his side, Juho left the scene in a hurry, ignoring the voice calling out for him. When Juho came out to the schoolyard, there was already an enormous crowd, and within it, were the Science Club members selling cotton candy. Judging from the long line, they had to be quite popular. So, Juho took the opportunity to carry out his obligation of advertising for his class, "Cocktails! Come get your cocktails!" Although he modeled his approach after the monkey by shouting louder, people in line only glared at him for a brief moment and went about their business. Then, Juho saw a familiar face standing in line giving off a inherently different glare, and who was taller than anybody around him by at least a head. Juho called out, "Baron!" Hearing that, he looked toward Juho and raised his hand candidly in order to greet him. That's when the cotton candy he had ordered came out, and taking his order, Baron walked out of the line. "It must be nice being a junior, not having to worry about school festival and all." "No, it's the juniors who are envious of the sophomores and the freshmen." It was common for the opposite parties to be envious of each other. Then, Juho took a piece of cotton candy from Baron's hand and brought it up to his mouth. It was sweet and airy, and the sensation of it melting away in his mouth was a treat that Juho was experiencing for the first time in a very long time. "Are you here to hang out?" "Duh! I wouldn't be here to study, now, would I?" "Seems like things are going well with the preparation for the entrance exams." "I'm planning on applying early. Keeping a good school record takes time." "Oh-ho-ho. Look at you!" "I have a long way to go still. SAT scores, my student record, and my art activity report." "You got this," Juho said, genuinely rooting for him. At which point, Baron snickered, looking indifferent for some reason. Then, raising the picket sign in his hands, Juho said, "If you ever get thirsty, come and pay me a visit." "No need," Baron said without hesitation. It seemed like Juho had no talent for advertising. Then, resting the sign on his shoulder, Juho said, "I really liked the cover designs this year, too." Despite being busy preparing for the entrance exams, Baron had volunteered to design the covers for his clubmates writing for the school festival, and Mr. Moon hadn't stopped him. Cover design was one of the crucial elements in a book. There were countless people who based their purchases on cover designs, which was the usual type of consumption among students who had little to no interest in literature. Baron's designs were more than enough to captivate such readers. Beautiful and artfully summarizing the plot of the book. They stirred up the interest of those who saw them, and they were all the more essential for amateur writers such as the members of the Literature Club. "It seems like they are growing more popular this year, too." "I liked Bom's piece, in particular. She's gotten a lot better recently." "Do you feel that way, too?" "Yeah. She's changed a lot since I did the cover design for her last year," Baron said, ripping off a small piece of cotton candy. "I am kind of bummed that you're not writing for the school festival this year. This is the last year I get to design your book cover." At the unexpected remark, Juho's eyes moved on from the cotton candy to Baron, who was looking at the cotton candy himself. "I didn't know you were this passionate about cover design." "Your writing stands out." Ironically, the cotton candy in Baron's hand had a presence that matched that of Yun Woo's. "The opportunity to design your book cover will… well, never come again, probably. Even by coincidence." Baron had also been a fan of Yun Woo, and there had to be joy in knowing that he had designed Yun Woo's book cover. Unfortunately, Juho had decided not to write for the school festival as himself on the year Baron was graduating, and having been occupied with finding the culprit in his novel, Juho had been completely oblivious to the fact that it was Baron's last year in high school. Then, after looking intently at him, he brought up a passing thought, "You never know." "You think so?" "You'll probably keep drawing, and I'll keep writing, so the way I see it, there's going to be an opportunity someday." Although Baron was about to graduate, it didn't necessarily mean that it was the end for him. "I guess you're right. We first met after having graduated from something, too," Baron said, looking back at the school building. "I guess I'm the only one leaving, again," Baron said, his voice slowly sinking. He had had a friend middle school who hadn't been able to graduate, and Baron had been fighting bravely in order to keep himself from giving into his fear of standing out or shrinking out of fear of being alone. "Are you still scared?" "Yeah," Baron said confidently, and after a brief thought, Juho asked, "Should we make a bet, then?" "On what?" "On whether you'll end up alone or not." At that, Baron smiled brightly, showing his white teeth. "And which side are you betting on?" "That you won't." "You see, I don't think it's gonna work," Baron said, bringing the piece of cotton candy up to his mouth. "Because I was planning on betting on that, too." "That's a shame." "I'm not falling for that again." "I was gonna ask you for some sponge cake." Then, Juho saw a tree behind Baron standing tall and still. There was also a sparrow sitting on its branch, looking attentively at the people waiting in line for cotton candy, amused.

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197 We All Graduate 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Time passed, and the last compilation that Baron took part in came out. Then, the day of his entrance exam arrived, and despite the bitingly-cold weather, the entire Literature Club came out to root for him. Although he managed to score higher than the lowest possible score he had planned, he wasn't able to get into the school he had desired to attend the most. Nevertheless, he managed to get into a fairly-recognized school as a design major. While everyone celebrated with him, they were also sad to see him go. "I'm sad that we won't have you around in the club, anymore," Sun Hwa said, dejected, unlike her usual self. "Who's gonna design our book covers now?" Seo Kwang said playfully, but he, too, sounded weak. "I'm so sad that you're leaving," Bom said, about to burst into tears at any given minute, and... "You'll do great, no matter where you end up." … Bo Suk wished him luck, sincerely and maturely. To which, Baron answered with his mouthful of chips, "What's the matter? Nothing lasts forever. You've read 'Language of God.'" "That's not true! This moment will never change! That's what 'Grains of Sand' said!" Sun Hwa said, denying him emphatically while the author of the two stories was distracted by something between her and Baron. Then, putting down his sketchbook, the junior said, "I'll leave this sketchbook here before I go so that you can look at it when you miss me." "Sniff, Baron!" Seo Kwang said, covering his face with his hands. Although he was making a fuss about it, it was obvious that he was sad about Baron's departure. Now, there was no one in the club who could draw the club members when they were busy writing, or no one to design their book covers. There was no one who ran faster and stuck out more than Baron. "Come by every now and then," Mr. Moon said while sitting on his comfortable chair with a dried squid in his mouth and a comic book in his hand, looking a tad too comfortable. As club activities officially came to an end, both the club and the teacher grew idle. Juho looked at Mr. Moon, who had sunk comfortably on his chair. Although he didn't appear so on the surface, he had to have mixed emotions about the junior graduating. After all, Baron was the first student to graduate from the club that the teacher, himself, had formed. Mr. Moon just happened to be better acquainted with goodbyes than the kids in the club. "Thank you for everything," Baron said, and the teacher gave him a slight nod. "You know, it still blows my mind how generous I can be, accepting you into the club and all." "..." As the room was filled with nothing but the sound of Mr. Moon chewing on a piece of squid, Juho found himself getting confused, wondering, 'Is he really OK? Did he really have no attachment?' Mr. Moon genuinely seemed calm and unfazed. At that moment, while everyone fixed their eyes on the teacher, a corner of his mouth turned ever so slightly. Then, swallowing the squid in his mouth and setting his comic book down, he pointed at Baron and said, "So, from now on, you're in charge of cover designs for the compilations!" "... I'm sorry?" "That wasn't going to be the extent of your gratitude, was it? Saying 'thank you?' From here on out, I expect you to keep reading and to think of fitting designs for what you read." What was he saying to a graduate? "Uh… Mr. Moon? I think he's gonna be busy with school. Isn't that a bit much?" Seo Kwang asked quietly, and the shameless teacher said, "It's once a year. I don't see how that's too much." "From what I hear, the amount of assignments art majors go through is beyond one's imagination." "That's fine. If the quality isn't there, I won't use it." Mr. Moon didn't seem to have understood, and according to his logic, it would have been better to hire a professional. Before anybody had time to make a comment, he asked the junior, "You wanna do it, right?" Then, he walked toward the desk and picked up a piece of dried squid. "You still wanna see what kind of writing these kids come up with, don't you?" Compilations were about the process, and they contained every piece of writing that had been written within that year as a record. What Mr. Moon was suggesting Baron do was to read what would come out of the Literature Club in the future. "Besides, it's not all that much trouble to print one more copy while we're still in the process of making the compilation," he added. At which point, Baron answered, "Of course, I'll do it." At Baron's answer, Sun Hwa cheered out loud. "Does that mean we still have an artist in the club?" Sun Hwa asked. "Once a year," answered Mr. Moon. "That's so cool! It's like a love story," Bo suk said. "You mean between the Literature Club and the artist?" Seo Kwang asked, "That sounds like some good material," Sun Hwa said, and Seo Kwang said in a hurry "I said it first." "In that case, it belongs to Bo Suk." Then, Sun Hwa and Seo Kwang began to quarrel over Bo Suk's idea, and Bom quietly picked up her pen. Amid the scene that was all too familiar to him, Juho looked at Baron, who was wearing a bright smile. It wasn't until later in the future that Juho reminisced to that day while explaining how Baron came to be a book designer. A day before the winter break, the school held a send-off event for the juniors. The freshmen and sophomores came together in order to send the juniors off. There were two thick, chalk lines on the ground at the schoolyard, and the juniors walked within them while the younger schoolmates cheered for them and celebrated their graduation, giving them gifts or flower necklaces. Because there were no classes that day, everyone was in high spirits, and Bom and Juho were chatting while waiting for the event to start. "How do you think Baron is feeling?" Bom asked, saying that she was curious about what it would feel like to graduate high school. "Anxious, happy, something along those lines, I'd presume?" "You think so?' "You've graduated before." "But I feel like graduating high school is gonna be a different experience." "Well, we'll find out soon enough." At that moment, Sun Hwa and Seo Kwang walked in through the back door. Although the students took a brief interest in the outsiders, they soon went about their businesses. "What brings you here?" Juho asked, and Seo Kwang said, "Isn't it obvious? We have to plan for when Baron shows up." "What plan?" For what it was, it was quite the title. "Is that really necessary? Can't we just wave our hands or something?" Sun Hwa said, sitting on a desk. "Baron likes to stand out, so let's give him what he wants. Let's make him a legend while we're at it." "A legend? How?" Juho asked, and Sun Hwa said, "What about tossing him up in the air?" For something that came after the word legend, it was quite weak. On top of that, it was not realistic by any stretch of the imagination. "I doubt that's gonna be possible. I mean, look at that line. There's not gonna be time or space for that." "Should we pop some party poppers?" "Do you have any?" "Nope." Sun Hwa seemed to be thinking out loud. Then, Seo Kwang opened his mouth and said, "What if we recite a poem on his way out, like 'Azaleas' by Sowol Kim? It suits us being in the Literature Club and all." "That sounds embarrassing…" Bom opposed timidly, and Juho also agreed. "It's gonna get buried when people start clapping and shouting. How's he gonna hear that?" "Then… what about flipping through the pages of his sketchbook as a way to reminisce past memories?" "Same problem. How are we gonna flip through the pages when the whole place is already booming with people?" As Juho reasoned against their ideas, frustrated looks appeared on Sun Hwa's and Seo Kwang's faces. Although their hearts were commendable, the setting brought about a series of challenges. From then on, a few more absurd ideas came up, but none of them realistic enough to be actually carried out. In the end, Juho had to calm down the two. "Wouldn't it be enough to just hand him the gifts that you guys prepared? I think Baron will appreciate that." "Yeah, at this rate, we're gonna end up being the legends," Bom said, agreeing with Juho's idea. Having been absorbed in thinking of creative ways to send off the sole artist in the club, Sun Hwa and Seo Kwang contemplated for a little while, but the bell rang, indicating that there was no more time to think. By the time the club members went down to the schoolyard, there was already a massive crowd there, starting from the stairways all the way to the front gate. Arranged in what looked like an intestine, a snake, or a waterway, the freshmen and sophomores waited anxiously for the juniors. "Oh, my! Look at all these people!" Because the Literature Club fell behind on securing a spot, they ended up having to stand the closest to the gate, and Sun Hwa scowled as if unhappy with the spot, but there was simply no choice. Then, they ran into Bo Suk on their way, who seemed fascinated by the event she was seeing for the first time. There were quite a few people who wanted to send someone off on a good note. "They're coming! They're coming!" somebody said from the front, and the crowd shouted in the distance, the cries eventually spreading to the entire schoolyard. Walking in groups of two or three, the juniors were all wearing a colorful paper ornament on their heads and around their necks, and carrying bundles of gifts in their hands. Excitement was in the air, intoxicating even those who didn't know anybody younger in school and the freshmen or sophomores who didn't know anybody older. Then, a student who was exceptionally tall appeared in the distance. "Baron!" "Baron! Here!" Despite the distance, everyone waved their hands enthusiastically, and seeing his clubmates waving, Baron, too, responded by waving back. Thanks to his distinctively white teeth, his smile was clearly visible even from afar. As the juniors responded to the cheers of their younger schoolmates, everyone waved and shouted all the more. While Baron walked down the aisle alone, the club members handed him their gifts. Bo Suk was first in line. "I heard you're an active person, so I got you these," the freshman said, handing him a box filled with wristbands and various sporting goods made by her favorite brand since middle school. "These, are your favorite snacks," Bom said, handing him a black plastic bag. "And these are comic books. I chose them carefully based on your preferences. Give me a call when you finish them. I'd love to talk about them with you," Sun Hwa said, handing him a hefty tome. It was quite a long series. "These are top-secret ideas, so make sure to keep them to yourself. They're conjectures and theories on Yun Woo's identity. Although you probably know by now, you'll also find an added bonus about HongSam's identity in there," Seo Kwang said, handing him a thick bundle of pages. Baron's uniform was no longer visible through the gifts. Then, Juho said to him, "I'll see you tomorrow." With that, Baron stared at the gifts in his hands for a little while, and thanked his club members for them before walking on. The freshmen and sophomores followed the juniors to the front of the gate, and Baron, too, was surrounded by his clubmates, who were complaining about how every one of their plans to serenade him had fallen through. Meanwhile, Juho watched from afar. "A person like you can't possibly be left alone, Baron." Just like that, Baron graduated in one piece. --- The next morning, Juho came out to the park for his morning exercise. His ears felt like they were about to fall off from the cold, but he quickly got used to it on his way to the park. Despite it being early in the morning, the bakery was already open, and the scent of freshly-baked bread permeated the air around the stores that were yet to open. Then, a corporate worker walked into the bakery looking exhausted, as though made miserable by the fact that they no longer got to enjoy the benefit of winter break. Walking past the bakery, Juho crossed the street and headed toward the park. "Hey, Baron," Juho said, waving at the figure who had arrived at the park ahead of him. Wearing his sporting attire, he no longer had the look of a young high school student. "It's cold out," Baron said as soon as he saw Juho. Until the beginning of his first semester, Baron would be killing time while looking for a part-time job. Since the SATs, Baron and Juho had been exercising together on a regular basis. Then, Juho said while stretching his body stiff from the cold, "You're early." "I managed, somehow. I figured it wouldn't get any easier if I were to stay in bed any longer." "I agree." It was only natural that one would find it less than desirable to get out from under their blanket in weather like that. The cold winter made the warm, cozy bed all the more tempting, making them wish that humans could also hibernate. Of course, fighting off that natural desire was always a tough battle. However… "Hey." … there was yet another person who managed to win that battle. Juho greeted the person while looking at his thick eyebrows, and after conversing for a little while, Juho introduced his friend to Baron. "This is the friend I told you about, Sung Pil." "Pil Sung Choi." Baron was caught off guard by the two different names that had come up simultaneously. Then, seeing the two exchange brief greetings, Juho believed that he was witnessing the beginning of a new friendship.

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198 About an Incredible Accomplishment 1

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl The three began to run at similar paces. Although it was a trail that they were all well acquainted with, running with more people than usual made it a different experience. Because they were running while matching each others' paces, the speed wasn't quite there. The trees in the background rushing past them were all dressed for the cold. After a brief silence, Baron broke the ice, "I heard you write as well." "Yes, I do," Sung Pil said, answering clearly. "Are you in a Literature Club at your school or anything?" "No. We don't have one." "Hm." With that, the conversation came to an abrupt end. The encounter of the two least sociable people Juho knew was proving to be a lot more intense. As the three ran in silence, Sung Pil opened his mouth next. "Congratulations on graduating." "Thanks." And just like that, the conversation ended once again, and Juho had to try desperately to hold back the laughter. They were both like logs. In the end, Juho stepped in. "How are things looking with your piece?" "So-so. The more I write, the more I see what I lack," Sung Pil said, staying within the subject that time. "Still going to the bank?" "Of course. I'll keep going until I finish writing at least. Lately, I've been visiting another bank in another neighborhood, too. One might think that there wouldn't be any differences, but there were." With that, Sung Pil began to share his story about his visits to a bank. Then, Baron interjected and asked why he had been going to the banks, and Sung Pil answered in a detailed and friendly manner. That time, the conversation went on for quite a while. Although there were still remnants of awkwardness, it was a significant improvement when compared to a moment ago. Listening quietly, Juho repeated the process of chiming in at the time their conversations would cut off, and so far, Sung Pil and Baron didn't seem to have such terrible impressions of each other. "Speaking of which, I have a question regarding my school's tuition." "Oh, that's beyond my knowledge." Hearing Sung Pil's detailed description of his visits to the banks, Baron eventually began to treat him as a financial adviser. When listening to Sung Pil's story, it was only natural for one to want to ask him questions regarding money. At that moment, they reached the place where Sung Pil and Juho had once raced previously. Juho glanced at Baron in passing. He had vivid memories of the recent graduate's ability as a runner and he would be hard pressed to beat him. In the end, Juho decided to remain quiet and not suggest a race. That is… "Why don't we race?" … until Sung Pil made the fearless suggestion. At that, Juho let out a sigh. "He's fast, you know," Juho warned Sung Pil, but he simply nodded, and Baron was already wearing a bright smile, revealing his white teeth. "It's cold out today, so why don't we just keep it at this pace?" Juho said in order to discourage them. However, the two logs had already started burning. "Losers write their names with their butts?" "Kind of childish, isn't it?" "You're on." The world always leaned toward the majority opinion. The race, which began all too suddenly, was quite close until midway, when Baron began to pull ahead. By the time Juho was about to catch up to him, the race came to an awkward end as Sung Pil stepped on a patch of ice and plummeted to the ground. While the three were catching their breaths, Sung Pil said while rubbing his butt, "That hurt." There was no trace of humiliation on his face, and the only thing that was left broken was the patch of ice on the ground. "Well, that was fun," Baron murmured while buying cups of warm drinks from the vending machine. "Thank you, sir." "Anytime." Breathing white steam out of their mouths, the three sat down briefly, planning on being on their way before the sweat cooled their bodies. Then, Sung Pil opened his mouth and said, "Recently, I read that Geun Woo Yoo won the Dong Kyung Literary Award this year." "Yeah, I read that article, too." Juho had sent him a congratulatory text. When they talked on the phone, Geun Woo had sounded rather excited. The man who had pushed himself deep into regret was finally seeing the light of day. He was also quite fond of his own writing. "I guess that means it's time to find out who's getting the Literary Award," Sung Pil murmured. At which point, Juho remembered hearing that his piece had been chosen as a candidate for the Rational Literary Award. "I'm sure Yun Woo will get the award this year for his short story. The Rational Literary Award tends to lean toward short stories." "Maybe." "'River' was excellent." Then, Juho locked eyes with Baron. While a gradual smile appeared on Juho's face, Baron looked away, drinking his beverage. Soon, at the thunderous roar that came from Sung Pil's stomach, the three headed for a nearby restaurant. --- "Sigh," Professor Kong let out, looking at the scenery rushing past the windows of the taxi. The Rational Literary Award. According to the result of the survey that had been conducted among authors, the Rational Literary Award was considered to be the most honorable of all literary awards in Korea, and only short stories published within a year of the award were considered. That year, he had been chosen as one of the judges for the finals of the Rational Literary Award. At the place where the taxi he was in was headed to, were the pieces that had survived the preliminary rounds of the judging committee. Because he had received a list from the committee, the professor was already aware of the surviving pieces, and the results were simply unheard of. Every single piece that was in a single literary magazine had been chosen as candidates, and the first thing that came out of the professor's mouth when he saw the list was a heavy sigh. "Turn left," the GPS's voice sounded from the front of the taxi, carried along with the heat from the heater. The reason Professor Kong didn't find the results surprising was because there had been a part of him that had expected it. The number of subscribers a literary magazine possessed was also an important quality in the Rational Literary Award, as it indicated how much appeal the magazine had to the masses. On top of that, the professor, himself, had read the magazine 'The Beginning and the End.' Every single piece in that magazine had been a gem, and on top of that, it was also the very magazine responsible for starting the literary magazine fad in bookstores. Then, he took a piece of paper out of his bag. Because San Jung Youn, Dae Soo Na, Sang Choi, Seo Joong Ahn, and Dong Gil Uhm were previous winners of the award, they were being considered for the Specialty Award, while Joon Soo Bong, Mideum Choo, Geun Woo Yoo, and Yun Woo remained as candidates. Both awards would be given to only one author. The authors who had either been critically acclaimed or harshly criticized in the past had somehow been able to make the most out of their potentials as writers, and within the same magazine on top of that. Regardless of what award it was, judging the winners had never been so difficult in the history of an award's judging committee, and frankly, it wouldn't be strange if any of the nine were chosen as the winner. "Sigh," he let out once again, like a habit. Usually, it would be something to be excited about, but as a judge, that excitement was a luxury as he had the obligation to rank each of the candidates. Somehow, and out of nowhere, the professor found himself being responsible for judging the superior piece. "Sigh." The face being reflected on the window of the taxi looked quite exhausted, and having gotten little to no sleep the night before, that was only natural. In reality, a lot of the literary awards in the country were quite controversial even among the literary society. There were quite a few awards that didn't judge its candidates fairly, while others were flat out questionable as awards. Unfortunately, flaws existed even among awards with longer histories as the standards by which the judges judged the candidates became unclear and ambiguous, causing controversy. What was meant to contribute to the development of literature had turned into something that ate away at the sincerity of literature. Books that shouldn't have been recognized had been brought to light, while the books that deserved to be out in the light were forgotten in the dark. Books that contained unconditional praise toward a political figure tended to win an award when those that had nothing to do with politics weren't even considered. Due to those reasons, authors began to turn down awards, and more and more literary societies had been declaring no winners. There were extremely few literary awards that maintained their original intentions and traditions, and the Rational Literary Award was one of them. It was that very award, that Professor Kong would end up judging, and it came to him as a hefty burden. It was no wonder that he couldn't stop sighing. He looked through the list of candidates, the pieces written by Geun Woo Yoo, Mideum Choo, Dong Gil Uhm, Seo Joong Ahn, Dae Soo Nah, Sang Choi, Joon Soo Bon, San Jung Youn, and Yun Woo. Despite his lack of experience, Geun Woo Yoo had successfully made the most out of his strength as an author. His writing was like a sad movie that the professor craved from time to time, and whenever he felt that way, Geun Woo's books were just the thing. As the winner of the Dong Kyung Literary Award of that year, word about him had been spreading to more people. In the case of Mideum Choo, she usually excelled in writing books that appealed to the masses. However, in her piece in 'The Beginning and the End,' she had managed to strike a fine balance in literary value. With its distinctive nature, memorable story, and the subject of death, the readability of her books spoke for itself. On the other hand, Dong Gil Uhm's books tended to be more hard-boiled, and his story tended to be the most rigid and dry within 'The Beginning and the End.' Professor's Kong's preferences happened to lean toward this direction, and the sentences written with an objective language allowed its readers to expand their imagination. It had to be, perhaps, the style most capable of carrying emotions at the deepest level. On the contrary, Seo Joong Ahn was just the opposite of Dong Gil Uhm. His writing had the power to soften up the readers from within, and as one followed the path the author had paved in his books, they were often rewarded with a touching moment. On top of that, there were original sequences throughout his books that kept the readers stimulated. His most recent novel, 'One Room,' was proof that Seo Joong had evolved as an author and was capable of writing an even deeper story. Dae Soo Na. The decision to read her novels often followed a thorough schedule check. Before or after a meal were some of the worst possible times to read Dae Soo's novels. However, the professor couldn't help but read them anyway, despite the trouble he would go through. On the other hand, the best time to read her novels was on a summer night. If the evaluation had taken place on a summer night, he wouldn't have been able to fight off the temptation to reach for her novel. Sang Choi, AKA Choi, was an author known as a romance writer. His portrayal of love had a lot in common with puzzles and Jenga. Reading his books felt like putting the pieces together, one by one, like building a tower, and after repeating the process of collapsing and scattering the pieces, the tower grew taller and sturdier. The author's unique take on relationships was rather sophisticated and dignified. Joon Soo Bong was one of the authors on the rise as of late. His sentences tended to remind readers that he really was a pupil of Yun Seo Baek. Having a strong obsession toward vocabulary, his sentences were irreplaceable. Every word had its place, and replacing them with other words often resulted in awkward-sounding sentences. Due to his recent success, everyone in the country had to know him. "San Jung Youn," Professor Kong let out with a sigh, brushing the back of his neck as he remembered her piece, which had been near perfect in quality, fitting of her title as the first Korean winner of the international award in Italy. However, the professor wasn't quite fond of her piece. It might very well have been his personal opinion, but he couldn't help but feel that something was seriously wrong. There was an unusually short gap between her most recent novel and her piece in the magazine, her first short story in several years, something that left one feeling uncomfortable and subject. The shared topic among the authors of 'The Beginning and the End' had been death, and the author who had written the most appropriate short story on the subject had to be… "Yun Woo." … Yun Woo. At that moment, the taxi made a sudden stop, and the driver drove on as if nothing had happened. After looking ahead briefly, Professor Kong rolled down the window. The breeze rushing in was quite cold but refreshing at the same time, clearing up the interior of the car made stuffy by the heater. At that, the professor let out a sigh yet again. "Are you going through something?" the driver asked, and with an awkward smile, the professor answered, "Yes. Something complicated." "I'm sorry to hear that," the driver said, and immediately moved on to his own story. As the professor showed some response, he began to explain why he had become a taxi driver, and while listening absentmindedly, the professor wrestled with his mind. Yun Woo was a genius author who was very much comparable to the previous winners and the current candidates of that year. To be precise, comparable wasn't a fair assessment. The thoughts within his writing alone were enough to send chills down the professor's spine. After the literary magazine had been published, debates among professors about his writing had spread like a fad. His skill and his stories defied his age, and his recent short story, 'River,' gave readers the impression that the author had actually died once. The short story was capable of planting such unrealistic doubt in the hearts of its readers. Professor Han had brought up, in all seriousness, the possibility of a ghostwriter or of the author lying about his age. Then, the professors, intoxicated by the alcohol and the occasion, began to pour out their absurd predictions. A foreigner, an alien, ghostwritten by their parents, working secretly with the publisher, publishing a manuscript that had been abandoned at some point, a magic pen or magic paper, time traveling, doping, the reincarnated version of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe or Leonardo Da Vinci, Mozart writing novels instead of music, a fairy that flew around the author, giving hints, and so on. Professor Kong was responsible for making the claim that was relatively more reasonable than the others: the time-machine theory. In hindsight, it was all too embarrassing. "So, my business fell apart with the economy…" the driver kept on with his life story, and the taxi went forth just as unhindered as the driver. Professor Kong had to decide which of the nine pieces would receive the award before he reached his destination. At that moment, his phone rang, and thanks to that, the driver's life story was put on hold just like the anguish that was going on within the professor's mind. "Hello?" It was one of the judges asking for his ETA. Then, explaining that he was still in a taxi, but that he was nearby, the professor hung up the phone. Looking at the view rushing past, the professor let out yet another sigh.

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199 About an Incredible Accomplishment 2

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl After a late lunch, Nam Kyung made his way back to his office through an empty street. The faint voices of a family seemingly visiting the publishing district came from the distance. They were incomparably happier than the editor on his way to work. Then, remembering the upcoming visit to the print shop, Nam Kyung made haste. "We made quite a scene around this time last year," Mr. Maeng said, and anxious memories of waiting desperately for the results came rushing back to Nam Kyung. He had never been as concerned about blackouts than on that day. "We sure did. Well, he already won once, so I guess that's it." It was a policy that gave other authors the opportunity to win the award in the future. With Yun Woo having already earned the title of being the youngest winner, the publishing company had nothing to lose. 'Sound of Wailing' was still one of the major bestsellers of the Zelkova Publishing Company. "Do you think Mr. Woo will get an award this year?" Mr. Maeng asked. The young author had been chosen as a candidate for the Rational Literary Award of that year. Then, having the strangest feeling that he had joined the family in the distance, Nam Kyung slowed down. The competition for that year's award was turning out to be quite interesting. Every short story in 'The Beginning and the End' had become a candidate, which meant one of the nine would turn up at the top as the official best, putting an end to the debate among the readers. "San Jung Youn is unbeatable." "Don't forget Joon Soo Bong." In what would have been an endless, ongoing fight, the authors would finally receive a rank. The award was going to determine the payoff of the readers' support of their favorite authors, and of course, it only made sense that readers would take interest in the matter, each wanting their favorite author and story to win. "You want Yun Woo to win, don't you?" "You sound so certain." "Am I wrong?" "You're right," Nam Kyung said after trying to play coy. At the end of the day, he was Yun Woo's editor. There was no equality in emotions, and it was only natural that one would lean toward a book that they could relate to, written by someone they knew even remotely, and what kept that from being shameful was certainly at the author's discretion. 'River' was an incredible achievement, even from an objective point of view. It was incredible to the point of making the editor concerned for the well-being of the author. It was a short story that Nam Kyung had read more than forty times, and as his editor, he thought Yun Woo's first official short story as a professional writer was quite lovely. He was proud of the author he had been working with. Then, being careful not to get carried away by his emotions, Nam Kyung asked Mr. Maeng, "Well, what about you?" "Me too. My vote goes to Won Yi Young." "You mean Yun Woo. You work for Zelkova, remember?" Ever since the news got out and Won Yi Young turned out to the Yun Woo all along, Mr. Maeng hadn't been afraid to express his affection for the author. Being a fantasy novel buff, he listed 'Language of God' and 'River' as proof of Yun Woo's potential as an author. "Well, there are still other authors who are just as competent, so we can't be so sure just yet. Besides, one of them is San Jung Youn." "The readers were especially polarizing this time around. Personally, I really think Joon Soo Bong has a lot of potential this year. He's been on the rise lately, too." "He is a good writer," Nam Kyung admitted. However, it didn't mean that others lacked potential by any means. Every single piece was just as threatening to each other as the last, and the fact that they all had been appointed as candidates meant that they all had the potential to be winners. Now, it was all up to the judges, who consisted of a critic, a reader, a professor, and a journalist. The winner of the award would be based on their decision. Everyone working in the publishing company was constantly discussing who the winner might be, and there was even a rumor circulating that bets were being placed at the business department. Walking into the company building, Nam Kyung went to the lounge and bought himself a cup of coffee from the vending machine. "Be safe now." "Will do." Unlike Mr. Maeng, who was sitting down, Nam Kyung prepared to leave. Since he planned on going straight home from the print shop, he packed Yun Woo's new manuscript with him. Although he wanted to stay true to his instincts and read it, he had decided to wait until he was on his way home in order to avoid the risk of forgetting about his visit to the shop altogether. His heart raced with anticipation. Then, right as he was about to leave, the phone began to ring. "Hello, Zelkova Publishing Company." "Is this Nam Kyung Park?" Nam Kyung didn't recognize the voice coming from the receiver. "Yes, this is he." Then, the person on the other end of the line introduced themselves briefly. "Mr. Woo has been chosen as the best translator of the year." Because his head had been occupied with thoughts of 'The Beginning and the End,' the information registered in Nam Kyung's mind with a slight delay. "Pardon?" "Congratulations." The editor found himself hopelessly lost. --- Yun Woo's Incredible Accomplishments by Myung Sil Oh. There are many things to look forward to in the winter. From the first snow to the steaming street food, parties, and food of all sorts. For students, there's a long winter break to look forward to, and for adults, we look forward to finally opening that bottle of wine we've been saving, or the simple pleasure of enjoying soju and beer from the nearby convenience store. Also, there are probably quite a few people who are hoping that Santa works extra hard this winter. I, myself, was one of them until I got to third grade (As for the children asking why I stopped believing in Santa in third grade, I choose not to answer that question.). In any case, when winter comes, the cold isn't the only thing that comes blowing our way. As we near the end of the year, we can't forget about the award ceremonies. From entertainment awards for the greatest actor/actresses to music awards, watching the ceremonies across all three TV stations has long been a habit of mine. However, as a journalist who specializes in books approved by the Ministry of Culture, the one type of award ceremony I look forward to the most is the literary award ceremony. There exist countless literary awards in Korea, and of course, some have questionable titles that would leave the heads of those who hear about them twisted. In our heartless, modern society, things that stay true to their original intentions are becoming increasingly rare. However, not all hope is lost just yet. Just like there are things that bring us nothing but disappointment and hopelessness, there are also things that restore our hope in humanity (just like a hot cup of soup and the cold winter often go hand in hand.). As early as yesterday, the winners of the Rational Literary Awards were announced. One winner of the grand prize, one winner of specialty award, and eleven winners of awards of excellence. The evaluation is said to have been, by far, the most difficult up to date. And now, the results of the most laborious evaluation in history… The winner of the grand prize of the Rational Literary Award: Yun Woo The winner of the specialty award: Seo Joong Ahn (I will list the names of the remaining eleven at the bottom, as this article is primarily about Yun Woo and the literary magazine 'The Beginning and the End.' Also, for the reason I have mentioned above, let us briefly touch on Seo Joong Ahn's story.) Seo Joong Ahn's victory caught many by surprise because it meant that he had managed to beat San Jung Youn. Although Seo Joong Ahn's brilliance and subtlety is well known among readers in Korea, San Jung Youn is an author who has been recognized internationally. Everyone knows that she was the first Korea winner of an international award in Italy. To the readers with opposing opinions, the judges offered an explanation, saying that they placed high value on her method of approaching the subject of death by utilizing a literary device (This is what makes literature so interesting. Even Ernest Hemingway of "The Old Man and the Sea," who we all know and love, has a record of making a bad move in his career, becoming the target of all sorts of harsh criticisms from the masses.). Having written mostly about growth, Seo Joong Ahn had undergone a slight change through his previous novel, "One Room," and that change turned out to be a massive success. On that note… Let us move on to Yun Woo, the winner of the grand prize. Just like last year, at the mere age of eighteen years old, the young author managed to earn the title of being the youngest winner. For those who are reading this article, I'll assume that you've read "River," yourselves. Otherwise, I wholeheartedly recommend you do so. Read it, and you'll understand why I, a journalist who specializes in books approved by the Ministry of Culture, was in such shock when I first read it. (That's right. Yun Woo's short story was an event in and of itself.) Is this truly death portrayed by an eighteen-year-old teenager? My heart is filled with doubt on one hand, while moved deeply on the other. Lately, there are all kinds of theories surrounding the identity of the author, and it only serves as further validation that the young author did something right. Now, staying true to the title of this article, I will discuss Yun Woo's accomplishments as an author. Aside from his debut title being made into a movie that reached well over ten million viewers, he also finished 'Language of God,' as well as translated Kelley Coin's book. Coin himself had requested the young author in person, and as a result, Yun Woo was chosen as "The Best Translator of the Year." "The Best Translator of the Year" is chosen based on poll results from publishers and the recognition of professional translators. Now, I'd like to emphasize once again that this is what Yun Woo has accomplished at the age of eighteen. Yun Woo is… (I probably sound like a fangirl by now, so I'll try to refrain myself from any further compliments toward the author.) In conclusion, Yun Woo's accomplishments are, simply put, stellar. It's as if I'm witnessing the prime of the author's life. At the same time, that also brings me a sense of anxiety, leaving me insecure about him having his career cut short. I'm sure we all, as readers and fans, want our favorite author to be around longer, while we anticipate his books in the future. Therefore, I'd like to urge my fellow fans to be mindful of burdening the young author, whom I firmly believe has a bright future ahead of him. --- "The article might be full of compliments toward Yun Woo, but none of them are wrong. The youngest winner of the Dong Kyung AND the Rational Literary Award. The youngest author of the book made into a ten-million viewers movie. The youngest to translate a Kelley Coin novel." "His sense of language in 'Language of God' is out of this world, and I think it contributes majorly to his career. I got the chills reading the offshoot volume." "'Language of God' is super popular overseas. Have a friend who lives in California, and he's a massive fan of Yun Woo. I mean, he started studying Korean because of that!" "That series is at number ten in the overall sales rankings of foreign online bookstores, and I'm talking about OVERALL rankings. Not only in the fantasy genre, but overall. Among those books that are written in English, 'Language of God' is the tenth most-sold novel of all time. I believe it's the first Korean novel to enter into a top ten list in any overseas market." "Yun Woo's already famous all across the globe. It's almost scary how popular he is in countries like China, Japan, and India. From what I saw on the TV, they've been describing him as this mysterious, genius author." "Where can I see that??" "Link:" "On top of all that, 'The Best Translator of the Year.'" "I figure that whoever ends up translating Yun Woo's books will be dumbfounded, wondering why the author doesn't do it himself." "I mean, you can't scratch your own back, right?" "Authors go through a ridiculous amount of reading when they write, so translating might not be the most appealing to him after writing an entire book." "There are other authors who translate on top of their own writing besides Yun Woo. Also, plenty of authors don't translate their own works." "Yun Woo's translator knows what he's doing. Considering it's being published by Fernand, I guess the quality only makes sense. On top of that, the senior editor is famous for being a fan of Yun Woo." "It's sad to see Seo Joong Ahn getting buried amongst all these authors when he's just as incredible of an author. His stories always have some sort of unimaginable twist, and even his best friend, Dong Gil Uhm, recognizes his talent." "I loved his recent short story. IMO, he deserved the award over San Jung Youn." "I think the judges placed a higher value on Seo Joong Ahn's piece because he's maturing as an author. He was already famous, but he just keeps getting better!" "I couldn't have guessed in my dreams that San Jung Youn wouldn't win." "Honestly, her piece was somewhat controversial for the judges this year. I think that had something to do with it. "What wrong did the judges do, anyway? If I were one of them, there's no way I could have picked only one. I'm serious, they get all the crap, no matter what." "'The Beginning and the End' is marking a new era in the history of literary magazines. "And Yun Woo wins the grand prize." "'River' is essentially about my life." "I'd never read the same book over and over again, but I'm still not tired of it." "I agree. I've read it so many times that I memorized all of the dialogue. Seriously, those are some hard-hitting conversations, though." "I wonder when the next book is coming out? I mean, Yun Woo's human too, so I presume that it would take him some time." "I logged into the publishing company's website to ask, but the website was down. Typical Zelkova." "Oh, wow. It really is." … --- "To Yun Woo, for winning the grand prize!" "Cheers!" Juho chuckled as he shouted cheers with glasses filled with soda. First, he was proud of his underage friends for raising their glasses with colorful soft drinks instead of alcohol, and second, there was joy in their voices. They were not only celebrating, but there was even greater joy in that they finally got to call out the name "Yun Woo" without reservation. Then, when Sun Hwa saw the look on Juho's face, she complained, "Why the long face? Aren't you happy?" "Me? Long face? You have no idea how happy I am." "But where's the soul? We even made a toast." As Juho looked away from her quietly, he saw Seo Kwang, wearing a proud expression on his face for some reason. Chugging his Coke, he let out a long, satisfied sigh and wiped his mouth. "Don't forget that I'm the only person here who can provide you a place to celebrate, especially Yun Woo being awarded the grand prize. You're welcome," he said, emphasizing Yun Woo. Then, Juho looked around at his surroundings, which were filled with books and hand-written recommendations and smelled of coffee. It was no other place than Seo Kwang's mother's book cafe.

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200 About an Incredible Accomplishment 3

Translated by: ShawnSuh Edited by: SootyOwl Although the book cafe would normally turn into a bar in the evening, Seo Kwang's mother decided to close the shop early because of a prior engagement with her parents. And knowing that, with his mother's permission, Seo Kwang had reserved the shop to celebrate the accomplishment of his friend in the form of a party. Each of them having come with food and drinks, the club members were ecstatic about the rare occasion. With the candle on the table at the center as the only light source, the club members enjoyed the cozy warmth along with all sorts of food and snacks, carried away by the intoxicating atmosphere of feeling like adults who were celebrating over drinks. "I knew you had it in you. This is my friend!" Seo Kwang shouted, followed by Bo Suk's, "And my hero!" The club members celebrated boisterously, as if letting out all of their pent up frustrations. Then, stuffing his mouth with fish sausage, Seo Kwang asked Juho, "How are things going with the new book?" "It's going through revisions. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to make it today." The manuscript was in Nam Kyung's hands, and the editor would bring up comments on places that were ambiguous or dragging on. The process was more heartbreaking and undesirable than anything. On top of that, Nam Kyung, being the perfectionist that he was, tended to be relentless with his comments. While that meant that he had a sharp eye for compositions and that it would ultimately result in a better product, Juho couldn't deny that it was among the most painful processes of all. "I needed a place to breathe." "Well, you've come to the right place, my friend." "Yeah! That's right!" Sun Hwa agreed emphatically. "Besides, Baron's here, too!" she added, looking in his direction. Juho, followed her eyes and saw the graduate, drinking his orange juice quietly. The club members were incredibly excited to see Baron after he had graduated. To which, Baron responded brusquely, "It hasn't even been that long." "Oh! C'mon, now! Emotions are always stronger than time," Seo Kwang said. "And that's why time flies by when things are good, and long and tedious occasions feel like an eternity. In that same way, time goes slower when we wait for something, but it goes by twice as fast the day before an exam," Sun Hwa added. While Bo Suk clapped quietly at her rather profound remark, Baron couldn't help but smile. "You just wait 'til next year, when the freshmen start coming in. I promise you, it won't even occur to you to think about me. Memories are weaker than time." "Wow, good one." "If anybody were to listen to our conversations, they would know immediately that we're in a Literature Club," Bom murmured. Then, she shouted, "But in here, it doesn't matter who's weak or strong!" She appeared to be in high spirits. Sun Hwa, who was also in high spirits, asked the freshman to put on some background music. Meanwhile, Juho saw the potential customers looking into the shop through the window to see if it was open, and turning back soon after, realizing that it wasn't. For the sake of letting the girls have their fun, Juho decided to keep it a secret from them. Then, putting a piece of sweet and sour chicken into his mouth, Juho watched the club members breaking out into a dance frenzy out of nowhere. "Juho," Bo Suk called for him, observing him. Juho felt her gaze from time to time. "What?" "I have a question." "What is it?" Juho asked as an affirmation, bringing his cup up to his mouth. "How are you so calm?" "Calm?" "Yes. Not only did you manage to win that award over all those incredible authors, but you're also being recognized as a translator for translating Kelley Coin's book. On top of that, you wrote a short story that everyone recognizes, 'River.' And now, you're getting all the attention because of your upcoming book." "Is that right?" Juho said, drinking his soda. "See? You're so calm, even now," Bo Suk said, fixing her eyes on him, looking attentively at his every movement. "I see. So, it sounds like what you really want to know is what I'm like internally, am I right?" "Right." "Then, there's a better way to find out than asking questions." At his response, Bo Suk's eyes sparkled with curiosity, and Juho decided to teach her how Literature Club members could explore their minds when writing. "Empathy." Empathizing allowed a writer to understand their subjects at their hearts, even up to the effervescence of the soda in Juho's cup. The effervescence was filled with joy at the sight of the kids who are also filled with joy, and it also felt joy for Juho winning the grand prize and becoming the translator of the year. "You're not gonna tell me, are you?" Bo Suk asked, pouting. To which, Juho said, "Words are stronger than emotions. One may be sad, but they can always say that they're happy, even when they're anxious and insecure." At his mysterious answer, Bo Suk stared intently at Juho. "It seems to me that you're stronger than emotions." At those glittering words, Juho simply smiled awkwardly. --- In the meantime, having gone home after his visit to the print shop, Nam Kyung hadn't been able to leave his car for several hours after giving into the temptation of reading Yun Woo's manuscript upon arriving at his home's parking lot. It was already dark out, and when the editor checked the time, it was 4:00 a.m. His neck and shoulders felt tense, and his eyes dry. His chest felt tight, and he felt his body stiffening up while he read. "Sigh," he let out a long, heavy sigh. Then, relaxing his tense body, he tried to organize his mind, scattered about by the storm within. However, realizing that it wasn't going to happen, he gave up. "What did I just read?" What had been clear as day while reading had evaporated the moment he looked up from the pages, like a mirage. Yun Woo was like smoke. After writing 'River,' the young author had brought back yet another piece of writing, which was, to say the least, baffling. "Is it falling apart, or did he mangle up the whole thing intentionally?" Nam Kyung asked himself, putting his hand on his forehead. "I don't think this will work," he said. Those were the very first words to come out of his mouth as soon as they met. Looking at the editor's face, Juho noticed that he had a haggard look about him, which told the author how much he had wrestled with his mind until reaching his decision. "In what ways?" Juho asked, and instead of giving an answer, Nam Kyung stared intently at the young author's face. "You should know. Why do you think it's not gonna work?" "It has to be the ending." "That's right." As an author, there was no way Juho didn't know the flaws of his own work. From the weakest part to the most emphasized, the climax, and the scenes that evoke the most desperation, an author was bound to know their work inside and out. Nevertheless, they would lose sight of their flaws while they were busy looking around for incoming danger. After all, they were the creators of their own craft. As an editor, it was also Nam Kyung's job to correct an author's path in their creative endeavor. However, that was also what made his job difficult at times. Never had he came across such writing in his career. "Do you have any idea how lost I was?" Because it was going to be the piece to follow 'River,' Nam Kyung had prepared himself internally as he received the manuscript from the author. When he read the first page, he had felt immediately confident. Fire was a fearsome being in the novel, and the deeds of those who had been affected by the fire were just as fearsome. In what felt like a parade of rage, terror, and doubt, the editor couldn't hold back his excitement. That was until he reached the last ten of the two hundred pages, which he had waited for anxiously. "Frankly, I have no idea how you were able to write that part, Mr. Woo," Nam Kyung said honestly, and Juho simply listened quietly. "I just can't seem to justify it, no matter what theory I use. At first, I just read through them candidly. I thought the scene where all of the characters get jumbled up and become indistinguishable was outstanding. It was to the point of losing the ability to think clearly." However, something had bothered the editor, tugging away at his heart. Something wasn't right. Even though all of the characters were becoming one, there was nothing about it that felt alien or out of place. In fact, it felt completely natural. Typical Yun Woo: pure and colorful. Despite the appalling, sludgy, and damp content, everything felt natural. "Then, I realized what had changed. It was sneaky of you, but I did notice a change in between the characters. Although, I have no idea if this is even possible to execute…" Nam Kyung said, looking straight at Juho. "Your style." At his answer, Juho nodded, quietly. "Because everything changes at the end." In the novel, everything and everyone changed in the end, from the culprit to the hero, the narrator, and the author. To be more precise, it wasn't the direction that Juho had intended from the beginning. Being shapeless and uncatchable, water took the shape of the container it was in. In that same way, the readers would feel as though things had changed, as if betrayed. And just as Juho had thought, Nam Kyung had a sharp eye for compositions. At that moment, Nam Kyung slammed his hands on the table and jumped from his seat, saying, "It's not that simple. This, this is strange. How can a piece of writing change like that, as if written by someone with a split personality? How could something that should stay consistent from cover to cover in a book, fall away all of a sudden at the end? And why do I find it so charming?" It was as if… "Another person wrote it, I mean," Nam Kyung paused briefly in order to correct the blunt remark he had blurted out by reflex. However, Juho had heard him clearly. As the young author smiled, the editor let out a sigh and added, "OK. Honestly, I doubted for a split second that another person wrote the last ten pages, no more, no less. I thought it was the most logical explanation, although it wasn't long after that that I realized that you wouldn't have a reason for it that would benefit you in any way." It was the explanation that made the most sense, and Juho understood where Nam Kyung was coming from. Then, as if giving up, the editor began to share his honest thoughts. "Did it happen by coincident?" "No." "Was it a breath-of-fresh-air sort of situation while you were wrestling with it?" "I wrote it just as I have always done." "Or were you starting to wear out?" "I jog on a daily basis." At that, Nam Kyung let out a sigh. "So, which one is it? The magical pen, time machine, or doping?" "None of the above." "Then what is it?" "I told you. I changed too, along with my writing." Juho had no recollection of writing with a magical pen or being in a time machine or having used any sort of drugs. Then, putting on a smile, he asked slowly, "Would you like to know the secret?" "... so there is something, huh?" "Sure." "Then, please," Nam Kyung said, looking at the young author over his glasses. Then, after the initial thought of dragging it on, Juho decided to cut to the chase, "I have two different writing styles. That's all." At the baffling answer, Nam Kyung tilted his head, perplexed. "Two. Different. Writing styles," the editor said, furrowing his brow. Then, Juho picked up the manuscript that proved what the young author had claimed. At that, Nam Kyung froze in his place. "Is that possible?" "Apparently, as you can tell," Juho said, drinking his tea. "Huh," Nam Kyung let out. From then on, he wasn't able to say anything for quite a while. As the editor looked through the manuscript over and over, Juho waited patiently for him to finish. Then, by the time he started feeling dazed, the young author asked, "It doesn't necessarily take away from the novel, does it?" "... Hm," Nam Kyung let out as he reconnected with reality. "... are you planning on coming clean about being able to write in two different styles?" "I prefer not to give out too much information when it comes to my work." "Right. Yeah," Nam Kyung concurred, nodding. Significance and symbolism. It was quite a Yun Woo-like decision, and Nam Kyung agreed with the young author that it would be better not to disclose information like that. Then, he thought about the possible consequences that would follow once the book came out to the world. "People will say all sorts of things." "I've been Yun Pil before. I've had worse." "People will start thinking that you hired a ghostwriter." "That's nothing new, is it?" "... You knew?" As the editor kept wrestling with his thoughts, Juho asked, "Is there an issue with how the novel ends?" "No." "Are the sentences not strong enough?" "No." "Is having two styles distracting?" "No, the contrary." "Is it too subtle?" "I think you'd find yourself getting into trouble if you were to make it any more obvious." If Juho were to ask what the issues were, Nam Kyung wouldn't hesitate to tell him. Out of place. Foreign. Chaotic. An ambiguity between coincidence and skill. Excellence. Strictly speaking, Yun Woo's second style was fantastic, and there was a reason that authors romanticized the ability to utilize an array of styles at their disposal. Being able to write according to the overall flow while changing the ambiance was only possible in a fairytale. It was a skill most writers would go to great lengths to obtain, and the thought of it alone made their hearts jump. Being able to write beyond the boundaries of one's self was the ultimate form of art. "Sigh," Nam Kyung let out, failing to calm his mind and simply scanning through the manuscript with raw emotions. The writing style didn't change whenever the plot moved forward or depending on the characters' points of view. However, at the end, at the very end, the writing style changed out of nowhere at the climax, when the message of the novel became the most apparent. It was the scene that would bring about serious doubt on the author, leaving readers to wonder: 'Did Yun Woo come up with the ending and did he write it himself?' The style couldn't fit the overall atmosphere of the novel any better. Even without fully understanding the situation, most people would be in shock. Some would start asking questions and begin to look for answers themselves as they wrestled with their minds, while others would list out absurd conjectures, lacking in any evidence. In the end, people would fall back into the routine of surrounding the mysterious author with all sorts of assumptions and doubts. Then, Nam Kyung looked up, looking much more at peace. However, Yun Woo remained unafraid. After all, he was an author who was well acquainted with those types of circumstances. "Maybe we should give it a go." Perhaps, it would be worth a try.

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© The Great Storyteller. The Great Storyteller - 임한백 - Ongoing 1 To 200

Origin: http://samlib.ru/c/chernij_a_w/thegreatstoryteller-510765462048177-ongoing1to200.shtml

Создан: 17/02/2020, изменен: 17/02/2020, 3022k

Стихотворение: Foreign+Translat

Series: @Other