Episode 1: The Chaebol 10th-Circle Swordmaster's Return (2)




That was probably our first meeting. I vividly remember that moment. Ji EunYu, my editor, came to my studio apartment with her hair tied in a fresh ponytail.

 

"Let's stop writing and go, Writer," she said with a bright smile.

 

Looking at her busily criticizing my novel, I couldn't help but recall that day. Yes, that's right. What was the first question Ji EunYu asked me?

 

"Writer, what do you think a novel is?"

 

I blurted out a nonsensical response, perhaps conscious of Ji EunYu's gaze. “Suddenly asking what a novel is? A novel is realism, and from a postmodern perspective, it's... existentialism.”

 

"Hmm. There are several theories. For example, Ian Watt's viewpoint," EunyuI said.

 

About five minutes passed as she rambled on. When she finally ran out of steam, I said, "I see. So, that's what a novel is?"

 

I felt like I was being mocked.

 

"Writer, let me put it this way. If that’s what ‘a novel’ is, then ‘web novels’ are everything else that you just excluded."

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"It seems like you don't really understand what web novels are. You didn't attend the seminar, did you?" Ji EunYu tapped the table as she continued.

 

"Postmodernism, realism, all that is fine. I understand they have meaning and value."

 

"..."

 

"But Writer, readers don't care about that. What they want is a story, not a philosophy book. Web novels essentially require consideration for the readers."

 

Consideration for the readers.

 

"When you were doing pure literature, it was fine to write whatever you wanted. The more complex the web of meaning, the more critics liked it. But it's different here. Readers won't read if that’s the case."

 

"Readers."

 

"Yes, readers."

 

I thought I shouldn't react.

 

But my mouth opened on its own.

 

"How can you do literature while thinking about the readers?"

 

Damn mouth. Damn pride.

 

Ji EunYu looked at me quietly. Her eyes seemed to ask,

 

"Literature?"

 

I felt embarrassed that I had used the word 'literature' and lowered my head.

 

"Writer."

 

"Yes."

 

And then came Ji EunYu's words, which I couldn't forget for a long time.

 

"You're not doing literature, Writer." It felt like a hammer blow to the head.

 

I knew it. I knew that web novels couldn't be literature. No matter how well I wrote, the esteemed critics wouldn't acknowledge it.

 

But no one had ever told me so directly.

 

"So, what are web novels then?"

 

What should I call the writings I'll be doing from now on? What can I write now?

 

"Writer."

 

"Yes."

 

"Why do web novels have to be literature?"

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"Is it shameful not to do literature?"

 

"..."

 

"Are all other writers who don’t make literature their profession living a shameful life?"

 

I couldn't say anything for a moment.

 

Looking back, maybe I was saved then.

 

Not by a grand philosophical statement, but by a simple question posed by an editor. "Literature is not the only thing that saves people."

 

Literature is not the only thing that saves people. With that one statement from Ji EunYu, I could endure the hard times.

 

"Writer, you should write shorter sentences. How many words is this? Read it."

 

Sentence structure for one month.

 

"Writer, you can’t structure the story like this. Remember? The pacing is too slow. Readers will fall asleep."

 

Plot issues for another month.

 

"Writer, the next chapter should make readers curious. Watch some morning dramas."

 

Ending issues for one more month.

 

"Writer, writing like this will get you called an explanation bug. You're not writing an encyclopedia, right?"

 

Back to setting issues for another month.

 

And so, month after month accumulated to half a year.

 

"Sometimes I think about what the editor said."

 

"Yes? What..."

 

"That literature is not the only thing that saves people."

 

Ji EunYu, who had been scrutinizing my manuscript, widened her eyes in surprise. "Ah... I did say that."

 

There was a complicated look in Ji EunYu's eyes as she looked at me. I regretted bringing it up.

 

Just as the atmosphere was becoming awkward, Ji EunYu spoke first.

 

"Right. What saves people is not literature."

 

What saves people?

 

"Swordmasters. Not literature."

 

"So, Writer, if you want to save people, include a Swordmaster."

 

"Excuse me?"

 

As I watched Ji EunYu speak with such seriousness, a smile escaped me.

 

Maybe this was her way of protecting me.

 

"I've already included one."

 

"What?"

 

I pulled out a USB drive from my pocket. It contained the manuscript I had been working on until that morning. As Ji EunYu opened the file, the title appeared.

 

"The Chaebol 10th-Circle Swordmaster's Return"

 

"That's an impressive title."

 

"Yeah."

 

It was a novel written almost in surrender, excluding ‘myself’ and targeting solely the ‘readers’ needs. The culmination of the past ten months.

 

"I'll have to read it with bated breath."

 

"I would appreciate that."

 

Perhaps as a result of my hard work, Ji EunYu spent quite some time looking at the manuscript.

 

Meanwhile, I wandered to the bathroom a few times and chatted with other male employees while drinking coffee at the office corner.

 

"You’ve been coming here often, haven't you, Writer?"

 

"Yes."

 

He was a man whose name I couldn’t remember. I think Ji EunYu called him Manager Seo.

 

"Haha, it's rare to find someone like you, Writer. Most literary writers give up on this field due to their pride after writing a bit."

 

"Yes..."

 

"You have real talent, so you’ll do well. Fighting!"

 

"Yes, fighting..."

 

How many times have I heard that already?

 

Yeah, I hope I do well, too.

 

Returning to my seat, Ji EunYu was waiting for me.

 

"How is it? Is it interesting?"

 

"..."

 

Damn. After nearly half a year of doing this, I can tell what the editor is going to say just by her expression.

 

"Writer, how should I put this… Something crucial is missing. Really, something decisive is lacking."

 

"Just say it."

 

I already knew it was lacking.

 

"What's missing this time?"

 

Ji EunYu seemed to carefully choose her words.

 

"It's, um, the soul..."

 

"Soul? There is one. As you can see, I replaced the 'mana' setting with 'soul' in this novel."

 

"No, no, that's not what I mean." Ji EunYu waved her hands apologetically.

 

I knew what she meant.

 

And that’s why it was even more frustrating.

 

The past six months of effort flashed through my mind like a storm.

 

What's wrong, exactly?

 

"It's all there."

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"It's all there."

 

I focused solely on the readers because you told me to consider them.

 

So I included everything.

 

Other worlds, Demon Lords.

 

Swordmasters, Chaebols.

 

Regressors, Systems.

 

All of it. And still, something is missing? What could it be?

 

"Did you enjoy writing this, Writer?"

 

"Maybe it looks too 'manufactured.' It feels like the person who wrote it didn't enjoy it..."

 

I was momentarily breathless. I think I understood what she meant. "Do I lack talent?"

 

"No, Writer! It’s not a question of talent. It's just..."

 

"I was thinking of quitting if this one didn’t work out. The project support period is almost over..."

 

"What? No, Writer...!"

 

"Do you think it's a hasty decision?"

 

Eyes met in the air, conveying unspoken thoughts.

 

Ji EunYu didn’t say anything. It made sense. She understood my past six months better than anyone else.

 

"Yes, it's hasty." "We can change the approach." "There is no other way, is there?" Changing the approach?

 

"Learn from other works."

 

"I'm already reading other works."

 

"That's not what I mean..."

 

Ji EunYu muttered to herself as she searched for a file on the office computer.

 

"I didn't want to use this method until the very end..."

 

Soon, several dozen pages were printed from the printer. It looked like a novel written by someone else.

 

Ji EunYu came back to her seat with the printed stack and began to speak.

 

"Writer, please don’t misunderstand my words."

 

I listened silently.

 

At first, I doubted my ears, and later, realizing I hadn’t misheard, I despaired.

 

"So... you're telling me to ghostwrite for another author?"






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