WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Potter
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ The Genius Writer Who Will Never Fall Again ◈
Chapter 27: Finale (1)
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No matter how noisily the world turned, individual lives did not change much.
Only the gossip that surfaced between those everyday routines changed with the times.
Rumors and incidents were terribly fleeting.
The adoption gaslighting scandal involving Ryu Cheong-a, which had once set the entire nation boiling, and Jo Du-ho’s sexual favors scandal both felt like distant history after only a few weeks.
So, back to the present.
“Ah, isn’t today the last episode of Geomgye Ilgun?”
“Right? We got here so fast.”
Geomgye Ilgun, the drama that had set this season ablaze and become so famous that everyone knew it as “that drama,” was ending today.
There had been incidents along the way, but as mentioned before, those were already things of the distant past to the public.
What remained was that the drama had been entertaining enough to follow.
And that the program which had filled people’s leisure time before bed every Wednesday and Thursday was ending.
It was a drama that had stayed remarkably consistent.
“Even the final episode was vicious. How could they cut it off right there?”
“I’m telling you, that writer isn’t human. After watching yesterday’s episode, I couldn’t even laugh in disbelief.”
With a typical sixteen-episode drama, there was usually some point where it became dull or failed to cut off at the right moment.
But Geomgye Ilgun had maintained its narrative momentum so consistently that every episode cut off at the crucial moment, leaving viewers with their blood pressure up and their legs shaking as they waited for the next one.
That was especially true after Magwipyeong began to feature prominently in the latter half.
Amid the three-way struggle between the royal court, the sword brotherhoods, and Yeongho’s group, direct clashes and covert maneuvering unfolded in turn, creating noir-like tension that never gave viewers a moment to relax.
Magwipyeong constantly acted beyond the audience’s expectations, while Yeongho showed a bracing boldness that kept everyone thinking, Is he really going to charge straight through that?
And what about Jang Bung-ik, who represented the royal faction?
They had shown the spirit worthy of Joseon’s commander of the Police Bureau.
“Ah, Jang Bung-ik survived, right? They’re based on a real historical figure, so they won’t kill them.”
“Definitely. What was it called? If they’re based on an actual Joseon figure, there are clan associations or something, right? They can’t just tear them down however they want.”
“Right? Ah, I hope they survived. Jang Bung-ik was my personal favorite.”
“They were cool. And they even cast someone who looked perfect for a general.”
Episode fifteen had ended with Jang Bung-ik charging alone into the heart of the enemy camp to stop Magwipyeong, their entire body slashed by swords as they let out a roar.
The situation was bad enough, but the desperate performance made people desperately curious whether they had lived or died.
So whenever there was a break, whether at work or school, people started talking about Geomgye Ilgun.
Somewhere like that...
“I’m home!”
“Ah, you’re back? Good work today.”
Kim Seong-taek, the head of a Korean household, hurried home from work as though someone might snatch him away.
He carried a black bag filled with canned beer, and a smile lingered on his face.
Of course. Today was finally the day he would watch the ending of Geomgye Ilgun, the drama he and his family had spent the third quarter following.
It had been a long, humiliating time of torment.
After today’s episode, he would no longer have to rage at perfectly timed cliffhangers or tremble with curiosity over the next episode.
It felt like a bad tooth had finally been pulled.
Perhaps noticing that, his wife laughed brightly.
“Honey, you’ve been getting home right on time every Wednesday and Thursday lately. You used to be out all the time for work dinners and whatnot.”
“When did I ever do that?”
“Oh? You already forgot?”
He had not forgotten. He genuinely did not know.
The reason there were no work dinners on Wednesdays and Thursdays was not because of him.
At Seong-taek’s workplace, the vice president usually hosted the dinners.
But that vice president watched Geomgye Ilgun too.
Since the host went home to watch the drama, there naturally were no work dinners on those days.
Of course, that was the kind of cause and effect the Kims could not possibly know.
“Eat first. The girls said they’ll be home a little later.”
“Huh? It’s already seven.”
“They have extra classes at their academy today.”
“They’re working hard.”
After dinner, Seong-taek passed the time flipping through channels with the TV remote.
At nine in the evening, his daughters finished their extra classes and ran home, sweating heavily.
“I’m showering first!”
“Hey, I was going first!”
“Quiet!”
They were making such a fuss because they were afraid of missing the drama.
As students sensitive to trends, they were even more determined to watch the broadcast live.
After that noisy time passed, it was ten at night.
As they had all summer, the family gathered before the television.
This gentle silence had now settled into their family’s daily life.
Realizing it absentmindedly, Seong-taek felt awkward for no reason and pop! opened a beer can.
“Ah, it’s starting.”
It happened at the same time as his wife’s words.
The final advertisement ended, and the drama began.
And so, the little respite that had fallen over Seong-taek’s daily life rushed toward its end.
* * *
Jang Bung-ik swung their sword desperately.
Swords from the sword brotherhoods were lodged in their legs and abdomen, while small daggers were embedded even in their shoulders.
Yet Jang Bung-ik did not fall.
Just as they had throughout the drama, they let out a tiger-like roar as though they would never retreat before injustice, only pressing the enemy harder.
But the end was drawing near.
As a human, they could not help but be worn down, whether in body or mind.
The angle changed.
As if showing Jang Bung-ik’s point of view, the screen shook as though the image were splitting apart.
The sound droned so heavily it was hard to distinguish anything.
Amid it all, only Jang Bung-ik’s ragged breaths and pounding heartbeat rang clearly.
Gulp. The moment Seong-taek swallowed dryly...
[“Charge!”]
A piercingly clear shout cut through the confusion.
[“Aaaah!!!”]
A different kind of battle cry rang out.
The sound of weapons colliding echoed.
Then, smack! just as Jang Bung-ik was about to collapse, someone caught them.
[“My lord! Please open your eyes! This humble servant has brought the troops!!!”]
The tension broke at once.
The mood surged, as though the opening act of a counterattack had begun.
Relief filled his chest, and dopamine burst through his mind.
Court soldiers poured into the enemy’s main camp, and a resolution came into sight.
It was exhilarating.
Then the scene changed to night.
The inn where Yeongho was staying.
[“Brother...!”]
Daechil, the young lieutenant who had served as Yeongho’s right-hand man and comic relief ever since their first appearance in episode two, choked back tears.
[“You can’t go! You know you’ll die if you go!!!”]
Yeongho was trying to leave alone.
Everyone knew why.
Magwipyeong was there.
After luring Jang Bung-ik and Hanyang’s troops to the Sword Brotherhood’s main headquarters, that vicious person was heading for the palace with their personal guard, intending to kill the king.
Yeongho was going to stop them.
[“You’ll die, brother!!!”]
Daechil shouted as if their throat would tear.
Every viewer deeply agreed.
But that was why everyone knew.
[“Daechil.”]
[“...Yes, brother.”]
[“When have I ever listened to you lot?”]
Nobody could stop Yeongho.
Throughout Geomgye Ilgun, nobody had ever been able to stop Yeongho.
Because he was Jin Yeongho.
Because no matter how hopeless or enormous the enemy before him, Jin Yeongho never feared them or retreated.
Because when there was a group behind him, Jin Yeongho would tear apart any enemy before his eyes.
[“Take good care of Hyang-dan. That kid’s too helpless. Leave her alone, and she’ll get herself beat up somewhere again.”]
Yeongho had to go.
It was the fate his narrative and character had laid out for him.
After hearing those words, Daechil could no longer stop him.
They lowered their head and sobbed.
Yeongho patted Daechil’s shoulder, then turned to leave the inn.
[“...What are you lot doing?”]
Yeongho’s entire group had gathered in front of the inn.
Every face looked ready to burst into tears, but nobody cried.
They slowly moved aside to clear a path, then bowed their heads.
They had come to see him off.
It was a path nobody could follow him down.
The moment they all stepped forward, the inn’s thugs who had remained on the boundary would officially become part of the Sword Brotherhood.
But their actions showed that they did not want to turn away for that reason.
The sight was almost solemn.
Yeongho silently looked over the group.
As if looking across the years into some distant past, he smiled lazily and walked forward one step at a time.
There were not many words, but the flow of each moment carried its own feeling.
Geomgye Ilgun had begun with the grief and regret of a leader wolf who had lost its pack and survived.
It was the process of a wolf who had lost all will to live recovering among the new pack gathering around him.
The path Yeongho had walked to avoid repeating the same regret was the narrative of Geomgye Ilgun itself.
At the end of that path stood the girl who had begun his second life with him.
As everyone cleared the way, only Hyang-dan stubbornly blocked it.
She gripped the hem of her skirt tightly, shoulders trembling as she bowed her head.
Yeongho stopped.
Hyang-dan bit her lip.
In the silence, Yeongho placed a hand atop her head.
Then his lips moved.
[“Live bravely. You’re the leader of these brats now.”]
I don’t know people like you.
When the government troops come, I’m someone who knows nothing.
Though she said such things, the girl who had cherished this group more than anyone finally burst into tears at his words.
Leaving her behind, Yeongho walked on again.
He gripped his sword.
His eyes shone fiercely with determination.
He walked and walked until he reached his destination.
Then he faced Magwipyeong.
[“What brings the leader of the wolf pack here?”]
Magwipyeong smiled coldly.
The enemy who had relentlessly tormented Yeongho with both goodwill and malice from the moment Magwipyeong became aware of Yeongho stood before him.
The palace was already a sea of blood.
A mere lowborn sword demon had cut down so many of the soldiers stationed at the palace.
Yeongho took his stance.
Magwipyeong laughed loudly.
[“I’ve never tasted wolf meat. Fine. It wouldn’t be bad to settle things here today.”]
They wore a strange outfit, a hemp tunic over a robe.
Their face was hidden beneath a deeply lowered bamboo hat, leaving only the lower half exposed.
Yeongho stared at them and charged.
Magwipyeong also laughed loudly and swung their sword.
Clang!
Iron struck iron.
Fwoosh!
A torch stand collapsed, and flames surged upward.
Aaaah!!!
In the distance, people still dying in the palace screamed.
At the center of it all, the battle grew fiercer and fiercer.
Magwipyeong’s clothes and flesh were cut, blood spurting out.
Yeongho’s clothes were stained red in the same way.
At times shouting, at others gritting his teeth.
As Yeongho charged as if he would tear that bastard apart somehow, Magwipyeong gradually lost their composure.
[“You bastard!!!”]
Magwipyeong’s roar rang out amid the crisis, and as the two savagely tore at each other, the situation gradually turned against Yeongho.
[“Aaaah!!!”]
Magwipyeong’s personal guard joined the fight.
More wounds appeared across Yeongho’s body.
But he did not retreat.
He could not retreat.
Even as his limbs were cut and his abdomen pierced, he only grew more ferocious.
Having already lost his pack once, he lunged at them more fiercely than ever to ensure it would never happen again.
[“Aaargh!!!”]
One by one, the personal guards fell.
And then Yeongho’s sword struck out and cut Magwipyeong.
That was the end.
Crack!
[“Ghk...!”]
At last, the tip of Yeongho’s sword pierced Magwipyeong’s heart.
Magwipyeong glared at Yeongho with hatred-filled eyes.
But Magwipyeong, vomiting blood as they died, could not offer any last words.
Slowly, Magwipyeong’s head dropped.
Only then did Yeongho’s shoulders sag.
Sitting atop Magwipyeong’s corpse, his entire body drenched in blood, Yeongho raised his head.
At that moment, snow began to fall.
The softly falling snow gradually covered the bloodstained ground.
Yeongho’s breaths came out in ragged wheezes, pitifully spilling out as though expelling what remained of his life.
His skin had turned blue, and no life remained in his eyes.
But...
Having finally realized that he had protected his pack, the leader wolf slowly closed his eyes and curled his lips upward in satisfaction.
Only now, as the story came to an end, did Yeongho smile so brightly for the first time.
That was why it drew a sigh.
“Ah...”
A lukewarm beer was in Seong-taek’s hand.
The moments had passed so urgently that he had not been able to look away.
“Sniff...!”
His younger daughter sniffled.
His older daughter dabbed at the corners of her eyes with her sleeve.
The events were resolved that way.
After a battle desperate enough to leave scars, brief scenes showed the process of recovering from them.
Winter passed, spring came, and then summer.
They had endured such a great incident, but they were slowly moving on.
People beginning their days appeared on screen.
Jang Bung-ik appeared, training at court as always.
And then, above all, came the thing that said Yeongho’s life had held meaning.
[“It’s hot as hell today.”]
Hyang-dan looked up at the sky.
A refreshing smile sat on her lips as she carried the departed in her heart.
The sight lodged in Seong-taek’s chest so forcefully that he felt something he could not put into words.
[“Daechil, come here for a moment.”]
The girl who had cried as Yeongho departed was smiling so brightly now.
Watching everyone who had journeyed with Yeongho busily live their lives with smiles on their faces stirred his heart with sorrow, fulfillment, and a faint emptiness.
The people who survived were somehow continuing on with today.
There was something moving about that message.
Bad endings and sad endings were clearly different things.
If it ended with the protagonist’s death but completed the narrative, it was sad.
If it gave an incomprehensible failure, it was bad.
This was far closer to sad than bad.
Without needing to analyze it from some artistic perspective, he felt that because it had ended this way, Yeongho’s eventful life had finally found peace.
It was an ending only noir could offer.
Because death implied not an ending, but a beginning.
Seong-taek felt unexpectedly moved.
[“All right, another day of business begins! Everyone, get to work!”]
With that shout, it ended.
As the screen faded to black and white, the drama’s most popular ballad OST played, and Hyang-dan’s bright smile closed out the final scene.
Nobody in the family could speak while the ending shots passed.
It was an afterglow.
As stories people called good so often did, Geomgye Ilgun ended after leaving behind enough lingering moments to revisit.
Then, a step later, reality came flooding in.
Ah, it’s really over now.
Seong-taek realized that Geomgye Ilgun, which had spent the summer with him, had finally ended.
He had thought watching the finale would leave him feeling completely relieved. Why did he instead feel so regretful and empty?
If he thought about it quietly, the answer came to him without meaning to.
Someday, looking back, this summer and the Wednesday and Thursday nights when his family gathered to watch dramas, laugh, and cry would be remembered as “when we watched Geomgye Ilgun.”
Because today would remain as one scene in the memories of their daily life.
Only after realizing that did Seong-taek smile faintly and murmur once the drama had completely ended and the advertisements began.
“...That was good.”
It was the highest praise a father unskilled at expression could offer his family.
* * *
It was the day Geomgye Ilgun ended, after sharing the summer of 2014.
Many people living similar lives in the same society watched Geomgye Ilgun that night.
Like Seong-taek’s ordinary family, they all felt something quietly soaking into them as they sank into the afterglow.
And so, on real-time search rankings, online communities, and even private messaging apps, viewers whose excitement had not yet faded continued to talk about it.
In that atmosphere, a bar had been booked in its entirety.
The production staff who had made Geomgye Ilgun together were there, including chief producer Young-chan and writer Jae-kyung.
At last, they revealed the final results.
“...We did it.”
Byeong-gi shouted in a trembling voice, almost crying.
“We did ittttt!!!”
Rather than frown, everyone shouted with him.
“Waaaaah!!!”
“We did it! We did it!!!”
The Wednesday-Thursday drama Geomgye Ilgun.
Final episode peak rating: 40.1%.
It had unquestionably joined the ranks of runaway hits.
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