WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Potter
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ My Fired Uncle Is a Genius Guitarist? ◈
Chapter 10: Bring Me Anything Else You Have
──────
The moment I returned to my studio apartment, I spread a towel on the floor and laid the guitar down. Before I could put the calculations circling in my head into action, I had to save this thing that looked ready to breathe its last.
“Let’s begin the operation.”
First, the fifth-string tuning peg that kept slipping. When I took it apart, the screw holding the gear was loose. I tightened it with a screwdriver I found rolling around in a drawer, then wound the loosened string back up. When I turned the peg, the satisfying tension returned.
Next was the neck. I loosened the strings, put a wrench on the truss rod inside the neck, and turned it a quarter turn to correct the bend. After checking its condition and listening to the sound, I gave it another eighth of a turn.
My hands moved without hesitation. Back when I was drifting around the Hongdae underground scene, there was no one to look after your equipment. Changing strings, adjusting the neck, fixing noise issues, it was all the performer’s job. I had learned the feel of it by taking guitars apart and putting them back together hundreds of times.
I tuned it again and fretted the twelfth fret.
Zing.
The buzzing disappeared, and the note rang out properly. I played a few chords and waited a moment. The pitch didn’t sag.
“Good. Hang in there a little longer. Both you and me.”
I had put out the immediate fire. The next problem was what came after.
Leaning against the bed, I opened a used-goods app. The search term was electric guitar, sorted by lowest price. Broken, needs repair, for parts. Listings with those labels filled the screen.
One of them caught my eye.
[Electric guitar for sale. 300,000 won. The neck is bent, and I think the pickup is dead too. I was told repairs would cost a lot, so I’m just selling it cheap. When I plug it in and shake the cable, the sound cuts in and out.]
I enlarged the photos. It was a mid-range model that could still fetch 700,000 won used if it were in good condition. Even in the photo, I could see the warped neck. But the supposedly dead pickup was strange.
When a pickup dies, there is usually no sound at all, or only one particular pickup cuts out. Sound cutting out when the cable is moved was almost certainly a jack-contact issue. The retaining nut had loosened, causing the jack to spin and twist the wiring inside. It was a minor repair that would cost only a few thousand won in parts.
‘It’s the jack, not the pickup.’
The seller had been scared off by the repair estimate, and that fear had gone straight onto the price tag. As for the neck, I could fix it just like I had fixed mine.
I opened my banking app and checked my balance. Negative 26 million won. There was still a little room before I hit my 30-million-won limit.
‘If this doesn’t sell, I’ll be throwing away real money, plus this month’s interest.’
My thumb hovered in the air for a moment before opening the chat window.
< Hello. Is the guitar still available? Would it be possible to meet in person tomorrow evening?
#
Wednesday morning began with calls to confirm the replacement delivery for Samjin Distribution. We had to make sure the goods were delivered by tomorrow morning.
At lunch, I chewed on a convenience-store salad and looked at the calendar. The preliminary-round announcement was still far away. There was nothing I could do but wait for the result. All I could do was keep busy while I waited.
Assistant Manager Kim poked their head over the partition.
“Manager, has something good happened lately?”
“No. Why?”
“I don’t know, you just look more alive than usual.”
“What did I usually look like?”
“Do you really have to ask? You looked completely rotten.”
“What did you just call me?”
“Ah, I mean you don’t look like that now. You look very fresh. Like someone whose stocks just hit the daily limit.”
“Quit talking nonsense and get back to work.”
#
About halfway through lunch, the classroom’s back door burst open. Yun Taerin, who had come over from the next class, headed straight for the corner seat by the window. Cha Sion was curled over the desk with earphones in, scribbling something in a notebook.
“Hey, Cha Sion. What are you doing?”
“Huh?”
Startled, Cha Sion hurriedly shut the notebook spread out on the desk.
“Let me see. Why’d you close it so fast?”
“It’s nothing.”
“It looked like a poem.”
“I said it’s nothing.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve been writing poems lately.”
“It’s homework.”
“What kind of homework makes you jump like that?”
Yun Taerin reached out playfully, but Cha Sion firmly hugged the notebook to their chest in defense. After a brief scuffle, Yun Taerin quickly lost interest and shrugged.
“Fine, I won’t look. Let’s go to the school store.”
“...Hey.”
Cha Sion slowly lowered the notebook they had been hugging and casually added,
“Ask that man whether he wants to rehearse together this weekend.”
“Huh? My uncle? Want to ask him yourself? I’ll give you his number.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Just because.”
The corners of Yun Taerin’s mouth slowly rose.
“What? You enjoy rehearsing with my uncle?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Sure, sure. Of course you don’t.”
Even as they said that, Yun Taerin was already pulling out their phone.
“Hey. What are you doing?”
“You told me to ask.”
“I didn’t say to do it right now.”
“Strike while the iron’s hot, right?”
< Uncle, rehearsal this weekend?
< Sion says they want to rehearse with you lol
“Hey! Why’d you add that last part?”
Cha Sion reached for the phone, but Yun Taerin twisted away to protect the screen. In the meantime, a reply arrived.
Uncle> I’m busy this weekend
“He says he’s busy.”
“...”
“Oh? Look at you being disappointed.”
“I’m not.”
“Is it because he doesn’t have money? Should we say we’ll cover the rehearsal-room fee?”
“Yeah. It’s not great to keep relying on him every time.”
Giggling, Yun Taerin began typing again.
< We’ll pay for the rehearsal room this time
< You overdid it, Uncle
All three clearly remembered the payment-due alarm blaring through the rehearsal room. They also knew the tight circumstances of the benefactor who always paid for the room.
A short reply arrived a little later.
Uncle> See you this weekend
“See? The second we said we’d pay, he changed his mind.”
Yun Taerin snickered and shoved the phone into their pocket. Cha Sion let out a small laugh and fiddled with the notebook.
#
The moment work ended, I headed to the station where we had agreed to meet. In front of Exit 2, a man in his early twenties stood looking at his phone, a guitar case propped at his feet.
“Are you the one selling the guitar?”
“Ah, yes. That’s right.”
“May I take a look?”
“Of course.”
He laid the case down on a bench in front of the station and opened the zipper. Its condition was exactly as shown in the listing photos. The warped neck, the little scratches on the body, and the pickup that was surely fine inside.
“The bent neck... it can be fixed, right?”
“I heard repairs cost quite a bit. That’s why I’m selling it cheap. I won’t be playing anymore anyway.”
“Ah... right.”
I nodded, trying to look as clueless as possible. I didn’t haggle. I was cool like that.
“I’ll take it.”
“Okay. I’ll send you my account number.”
The transfer amount was 300,000 won. My thumb hesitated above the confirmation button. The cold feeling of my overdraft account’s bottom drawing another step closer.
Once the transfer went through, the man handed over the case and left without looking back. For a moment, he overlapped with the image of myself selling off guitars in the past, but there was no need to dwell on it. I slung the case over my shoulder and walked away.
#
On the way back, I bought a set of new guitar strings and some contact cleaner. It was a spray that dissolved oxidation on electrical contacts to fix poor connections, an essential item for a patient like this.
The moment I got back to my studio apartment, I spread a towel on the floor. Same position as yesterday, different patient.
I checked the jack first. When I gripped and twisted it by hand, the entire jack spun freely. The retaining nut had loosened, twisting the wiring inside and lifting the contact loose. When I opened it up, it was exactly as expected. The pickup was perfectly fine and didn’t need touching.
‘So he sold a 10,000-won repair thinking it was a repair worth hundreds of thousands.’
I tidied up the wiring and tightened the nut. I revived the jack and pots with contact cleaner, adjusted the bent neck with a wrench, removed the old strings, and tightly wound on new ones. Two hours passed in no time.
After tuning it, I plucked the strings without an amp. The unplugged sound rang out properly, and the neck was straight. I couldn’t check the output without an amp, but based on what I had seen inside, there should be no problem.
I played a few chords to check its condition, then took my hands away. I ignored the itch in my fingers telling me to play a song while I was at it. This wasn’t my guitar. It was merchandise I needed to sell.
‘Now, how do I get rid of this...’
If I listed it on the app again, I could get its proper value, but there was no telling when it would sell. Answering inquiries, arranging meetings, waiting around. Meanwhile, interest would keep leaking out of my overdraft account.
I opened my wallet.
A business card I had received at the music shop a few days ago sat neatly inside.
#
The next day after work, I stopped by home to pick up the guitar and returned to the shopping alley.
Ding-a-ling.
The moment I entered, the owner recognized me and brightened.
“Oh! You’re back! Have you made up your mind?”
“Ah, actually, I was wondering whether you deal in used guitars.”
“Used guitars? Are you selling one?”
“Yes. I have one I’d like to get rid of.”
“Oh, that’s unfortunate. We don’t deal in used instruments...”
The owner smacked their lips with a regretful expression.
“Ah, I see. All right.”
I gave a small nod and was about to turn away when the owner clapped their hands behind me.
“Wait a second! There’s a shop I know. Would you like me to introduce you?”
“...A shop?”
“There’s a place in the alley behind this one that specializes in used instruments. The owner can be a little blunt, but they don’t lowball people. They’ll give you a fair price. We send everyone there when they ask about used instruments.”
Without even being asked, the owner tore off a piece of notepaper from the counter and quickly drew me a map.
“It’s called Jaedong Music. The sign is small, so keep an eye out.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. Ah! But when you’re looking for a new guitar, make sure you come to us!”
They were a shop owner who never forgot to make a sale.
#
After turning into another alley following the map, I saw a sign above a glass door, no bigger than a hand.
Jaedong Music.
When I pushed the door open, the used guitars hanging on every wall caught my eye. Every one of them was well maintained. Even the spacing and angles showed careful attention.
The man sitting behind the counter looked up.
‘...Oh Jaedong?’
The moment I saw his face, I froze inside. In the Hongdae scene of that other world, back when I was in my early twenties and drifting through underground clubs, there was a name I had shared a stage with a few times.
We weren’t close enough to call it a friendship. Still, whenever I watched him play backstage, I had always thought the same thing.
There are so many monsters in this scene.
Oh Jaedong was sitting behind the counter, his face around ten years older.
Of course, in this world, I was only an ordinary office worker who didn’t know him. Pretending I knew nothing, I bowed slightly and held out the guitar case.
“I came to sell a guitar. The music shop in the next alley referred me.”
“Take it out.”
The complete opposite of the owner at the previous shop.
I removed the guitar from the case and placed it on the counter. Oh Jaedong took it, ran his eyes over it from headstock to bridge, then lowered his gaze along the fretboard while gripping the neck. After that, he plugged a cable into the amp beside him.
Zing.
Oh Jaedong strummed a chord, and his hand stopped dead. The hand hovering in the air strummed the strings once more.
A brief silence passed.
“...Who worked on this?”
“I did.”
Oh Jaedong’s gaze moved once between my face and the guitar. His lips parted slightly as if he were about to ask something else, then closed again.
“I’ll give you 500,000.”
“...500,000?”
It was lower than market value. But considering how used-instrument dealers paid cash on the spot, it was the expected low offer. I could get more by putting in the legwork and selling it directly.
‘I’m not getting lowballed. I’m buying time.’
The price of handing over all the time and exhaustion of waiting for inquiries and arranging meetings. In my current situation, it wasn’t a bad deal.
“I’ll take it.”
Oh Jaedong opened the safe behind the counter, counted out bills, and held them out to me. Ten 50,000-won notes.
The moment I accepted the cash, a strange feeling passed through me. Since falling into this world, it was the first money I had made apart from my company salary. Income earned through the experience and skills that had stuck with me from my days making music.
The purchase price was 300,000 won, plus a little over 10,000 won for strings and spray. My net profit was 190,000 won. It was a cute amount for someone who had once reached the top of the world, but it wasn’t bad for a start.
‘At this rate, two or three more times should get me enough for the minimum recording setup.’
For a moment, I thought of Assistant Manager Kim talking about side-job regulations. But for now, I had only fixed and sold something that belonged to me, so there was no immediate problem. It would become a problem the moment this turned into a business, but not today.
“A receipt, or something...”
“We don’t have those.”
“Ah, right. Then take care.”
When I grabbed the doorknob, a low voice came from behind me.
“...Bring me anything else you have.”
Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried
