The Great Storyteller

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

“Huh. It’s already dark out.”

“Whew! I am WASTED!”

Juho looked intently at Jenkins, who was staggering from the effects of alcohol, struggling to stand still. As if having no intention of helping him, Coin walked ahead, leaving the young author to help the director walk.

“C’mon, Mr. Jenkins. Get it together.”

“What are you talking about? I feel fine! In fact, I feel great! Not only am I a genius, but I got the good looks. On top of that, I’ve managed to buy the movie rights from Yun Woo himself!”

At that, Coin sneered loudly in the distance. Nevertheless, Juho was relieved that the director was still talkative. Otherwise, Jenkins would have made Juho’s life much harder by trying to squeeze into a tight space. Unfortunately, there was little Juho could do about Coin’s irritable mood.

“A drunk in an otherwise beautiful street,” Coin said, trying to get the director to shut up yet again. At which point, Juho stepped in in order to stop him, “Let’s leave him be. Maybe it’ll help him sober up if we let him talk.”

When the arrived at the riverbank, there was hardly anybody around. Even the ducks were nowhere to be found. There was nobody out for a walk, riding a bicycle, jogging, or sitting on the bench. The night sky shone brightly with stars. Similarly, all of the buildings and the bridge shone brightly with street lights, which were being reflected by the water. Standing still for a brief moment, Juho stared intently into the water.

“Hey, it’s that thing you’re afraid of,” Jenkins said. At which point, Coin turned toward him. Then, walking closer to the water, Juho said, “Who knows what could be lurking underneath?”

“What? Are you afraid that there could be a corpse floating in the water?”

“Yep. That’s exactly what I’m worried about,” Juho said, still staring into the water. He couldn’t see anything aside from the reflection of the surroundings. It was as though the water was trying to hide its thoughts.

“You know, it has a lot in common with you,” Jenkins said, sniffling.

“In what sense?” Juho asked.

“The way it keeps flowing.”

“Now, he’s just speaking gibberish,” Coin said, and Juho agreed. By that point, Jenkins was practically thinking out loud, blurting out every thought that came to mind.

“Actually, the river doesn’t look too terrible at night,” Juho said.

“Is that something somebody who’s deathly afraid of the water would say?” Coin asked, and Juho chuckled quietly. After staring at the water for a brief moment, Coin said, “You’re gonna be writing while you’re training, aren’t you?”

“I’d assume so.”

“I mean the sequel.”

After some thought, Juho replied, “Most likely? Whenever I can find the time.”

Just like always, Juho’s story would come to completion as he repeated the process of writing and revising.

“Me, I’m making a movie,” Jenkins interjected, throwing his arm into the air, toward the sky, still staggering. Then, looking up at the sky, he asked, “But, what if it doesn’t turn out well?”

Being a genius also came with its own set of concerns.

“I fought so hard for it, but what if it turns out to be the quickest and surest way of killing my career? What if all this effort was for nothing?”

At that, Coin yawned and answered his question, “Then, you kiss your directing career goodbye. If I were God, I’d make it a priority of mine to make that happen.”

“But, why?”

“‘Cause you’re annoying as hell. That’s why.”

When the director looked at Juho for help, the young author shrugged and said, “You never know what the future holds. You’ll be fine.”

“That also means the movie could flop!”

“Yep.”

At that moment, Jenkins raised his chin toward the sky and shouted from the top of his lungs, “Then, I better enjoy this moment while it lasts!” spinning in place and gagging. At which point, Juho took a step back in order to distance himself.

“This guy needs to pull it together,” Coin murmured while shoving his hands in his pockets, which made the young author chuckle. At that moment, a cold breeze blew against his hair, reminding him that it would no longer be there in the near future. Brushing his hair back, Juho walked on, followed by Coin and Jenkins.

—

“Come again?”

“He really went.”

“Where?”

“Into the military.”

“Who did?”

“Yun Woo.”

“Why?”

“Who knows?”

“OK, let’s go back a little,” Myung Sil said, swallowing nervously. “Now, tell me again.”

At that, her coworker sighed impatiently and said, “Yun Woo! He went into the military!”

“Yun Woo did?”

At the news that Yun Woo, the genius author, had gone into the military, all hell broke loose in her office. People in all directions started talking about the young author. He had disappeared. Now. Of all times. Out of the blue. Without telling anybody.

“You mean he’s planning on it?”

“No. He’s already at basic training.”

“He’s already there!?” Myung Sil let out, picturing the young author sporting a short hairdo inadvertently.

“I’m tellin’ ya. This guy’s like a spy,” the supervisor said, gnashing his teeth and scratching his head irritably, sending the dandruff flakes on his scalp flying in the air.

“All right, let’s send a team over. You come up with an article. Give the publisher a ring.”

Taken aback, Myung Sil still couldn’t make sense of the situation, unable to answer the question: “Why now of all times?”

“Isn’t there a movie coming out? He’d have so much to do in Hollywood! Yet, he’s gone into the military at a time like this?”

Everyone had been ecstatic to hear that the movie rights to Yun Woo’s ultra-successful novel series had been sold to Hollywood. Not only was the director one of the most prominent figures in the industry, but the studio behind it was also a massive one. Every show on TV that had anything to do with books, movies, or the latest trends was mentioning the young author’s name.

“I thought he’d do another interview soon.”

Yet, Yun Woo’s decision had caught many people off guard.

“He’s really something else,” Myung Sil said, chuckling, clueless.

“Do you think Jenkins knew?”

“How am I supposed to know? It would have made our jobs so much easier if only he wasn’t so sneaky,” the supervisor said irritably. However, Myung Sil didn’t let up.

“Jenkins probably knew, don’t you think? Do you think Mr. Woo told his friends, family, and colleagues? If anybody, I have a feeling that Jenkins knew.”

“I suppose it’s possible.”

“I thought him being at the Frankfurt book fair was him sending a message that he was gonna start being more active with the public? Wait a minute… Does this mean that there won’t be any new Yun Woo books for the next two years…!?” Myung Sil said, her expression growing darker.

“This can’t be happening,” she said, clasping her head, her shoulders trembling at the realization of having to wait two years without any new books from the young author. To fans like her, the young author’s decision had been quite cruel. At that moment, the supervisor shouted, “Let’s go! Get a move on!”

“… I’m gonna pay Dong Baek publishing a visit.”

“OK. Good idea. You do that.”

With that, the reporter sprung up from her seat, eager for an explanation.

—

“We were caught off guard just as much you,” Jang Mi said with a pleasant smile, which looked as though somebody had drawn on to her face.

“Did you now know about this as well?” Myung Sil asked.

“I did know,” the editor replied while maintaining the same expression on her face, which was hiding the emotions that were still raw from the day she had first come across the news.

“I really appreciated him telling me as soon as he came back from Germany.”

“When did he come back?”

“Let’s see… about four months ago, I believe?” Jang Mi said, staring into the air as she retraced her memory. Expecting a sequel, she had been ecstatic by the news of the young author’s return. She had thought that Juho had come back with most of the story mapped out after intensive research. With all of what he had gone through in Germany, he had to have gotten a lot out of his time in the country. When he had visited her office, Jang Mi had taken him to the conference room and asked, “So, did you learn a lot?”

As usual, the young author had had a mellow look on his face, and Jang Mi had stared intently at it.

“I sure did. I’m at a place where I have enough details to work with.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to win anything this time around?”

At that, an awkward look had appeared on the young author’s face. Although knowing that he would have responded affirmatively, Jang Mi hadn’t been able to help herself. She had been ecstatic.

“I can’t say.”

Jang Mi’s impression of Juho was that he was modest. Even as the hype of ‘Language of God’ started dying down, never had the young author raised his voice or stomped his feet. Whenever they would talk on the phone, he would always respond in a calm, unhurried tone. Most authors she knew who were five years into their writing careers were still delighted to see even a picture of their books being sold at a bookstore, ecstatic when their books went up to a higher rank, and anxious once their books became a bestseller. Modesty would always take a back seat, only to peek its head when they were at the peak of their success. However, it was just the opposite for Yun Woo.

“So, have you decided on the name of the protagonist?”

“Yes, I have.”

“What is it?”

“Violinist.”

“That’s his name?” Jang Mi asked, her eyes wide.

“He’s an author, isn’t he?” she asked.

“He plays the violin, hence the name.”

Jang Mi focused on listening to the young author’s thoughts. The more she heard, the more her hands shook. Soon, she was about to discover how the golden goose had been killed. She was anxious to see the product. Hearing the summary of the plot, the editor nodded affirmatively.

“So, it’s really a tragic story,” she said.

“I mean, just think about what’s surrounding the character. Sense of defeat, depression, greed, self-centeredness… They’re everywhere.”

“Which are emotions you seem to represent quite often.”

“Is that right?”

Jang Mi inhaled deeply. The answer became apparent just from the story the young author had presented on the stage of the exhibition event alone. With the future knowledge of a book that hadn’t even been announced, Jang Mi couldn’t hide her excitement. Hiding behind the genre of fantasy novel, the young author was about to speak his mind on the convoluted reality of modern society, poignantly calling the issues within that society out through his uniquely crafted world within the novel. The hope of the protagonist becoming the hero behind the myth would allow readers to enjoy the tragic past of that world without the emotional burdens.

“One started digging into the myth in order to meet God. The traitor was very, very briefly mentioned, yet it’s one of the most popular characters within the novel. Readers have been curious about who was behind the myth too.”

Mankind had started a never-ending war in the past, which had led to an ever-lasting massacre. The animals that lived during that time had witnessed the cruelty of humans, killing each other for the most trivial reasons. In order to survive, the animals had come up with a plan to ostracise mankind by creating a written language that couldn’t be read by humans. However, the traitor betrayed its fellow animals, saving mankind from their imminent destruction in order to repay a favor it had once received. Meanwhile, Jang Mi was curious as to how the new characters would be similar or different from what the characters within ‘Language of God’ had discovered about them.

“The myth isn’t the protagonist’s first piece of writing. Writing a myth requires training. He’ll explain the reason he was chosen by the traitor as the writer,” Juho said relentlessly, and Jang Mi fixed her eyes on his lips, which were moving restlessly.

“The first piece written by Violinist will be a war story.”

War was a popular subject among the people living in the world within the novel. Winning a war also came with a slew of benefits, such as wealth, abundant life, and reigning supreme over all the other countries. In that world, only the strong survived, and the weak were quickly wiped out. With the weak gone, the world became a slightly better place to live for the strong. The author, Violinist, posed a question about the pattern his fellow humans follow: fighting, winning, and keeping everything to themselves. Writing was the means that allowed him to do so.

“… Writing about the wretched spectacle of war that he experienced firsthand. He’ll be an author who writes something realistic, heavily emphasizing experience.”

“That reminds me of a certain author,” Jang Mi said, and Juho chuckled.

“It’ll be a while until his writing starts to pick up. Till then, it gets neglected and forgotten. But that’s when the traitor comes across Violinist’s writing, which ultimately leads to more readers.”

The protagonist was a figure who influenced the world both knowingly and unintentionally. Being musically illiterate, he barely manages to learn to write and proceeds to write a book. Unfortunately, the book turns out to be a massive failure. Yet, moving forward one step at a time, he doesn’t give up despite being blatantly looked down upon by those around him. Afterward, Jang Mi also heard about God, the upcoming war, and the new languages Juho was planning to introduce. At which point, she couldn’t help but applaud.

“So, when are you gonna start writing?”

At that moment, the expression on the young author’s face changed all of a sudden, and the editor, who couldn’t contain her excitement, didn’t catch it.

“We can give you as long as you need.”

“That’s a relief. Then, I’d like at least two years.”

Despite the joke being incredibly dull, Jang Mi laughed. Then, laughing along with her, the young author added, “I’m going into the military.”