Became an American Retro Novelist - Chapter 179



Only Noblemtl

179.

After entering Stanford University and going through the winter and fall semesters, the spring semester, which marks the end of the first year, has arrived.

And from the very first class, I found myself in a situation where I felt like I was going to vomit blood.

A joint class taught by Rene Dupree.

The long-awaited first hour.

“Uh······. This time, I’ll be focusing on a relatively recently published novel······.”

I should have noticed when I said that.

“As you all probably expected, the piece is ‘Country of Losers.’”

“oh.”

John Smith, sitting next to me, looked at me with interest.

John, Rebecca, and most of the first-year students had returned to their hometowns during the vacation and had not read the book ‘Country of Losers’ that had been published in the meantime. Few people knew of its existence.

But I thought, surely, surely this would not happen.

“professor.”

Rebecca Wong raised her hand.

“Excuse me, which author’s novel is this?”

“It’s the work of the new writer sitting next to you.”

“······.”

“······.”

Rebecca’s eyes met mine.

I felt so embarrassed that I wanted to disappear.

This time I raised my hand.

“Oh, professor?”

“okay.”

“Oh, should I participate in the joint review? Since I am not in the position of ‘reading’ this novel but rather ‘writing’ it, I suddenly feel like this topic is not for me.”

“I also took that into consideration.”

As he said that, Professor Dupree’s eyes changed.

“But I think this novel is worthy of being the subject of a lecture. I also felt the need to break away from the existing class system that only criticized ‘pure literature.’ Thanks to you, my thoughts have changed a lot. I came to think that this is the direction that literature should take in the future.”

Please, Professor! The kids are expecting too much!

I failed to meet the expectations(?) and felt a cold sweat running down my back.

As expected, John, who was next to me, gave me a thumbs up.

“also.”

And Rebecca, looking back from afar, said this with her eyes.

‘Is this the novel you were talking about? I’ll see how interesting it is. Considering the cost of purchasing the book, the intensity of my criticism will be much higher, and if you don’t meet that expectation, you won’t be able to escape my sharp criticism like a leopard, and you’ll only end up planting a prejudice that all genre novels are the same. Are you ready? This is a showdown between you and me. Good luck.’

No, not to this extent.

I felt that much pressure.

“······.”

Please save me.

***

Please save me.

Simon Carver, head of Hardboiled Publishers, felt like he was going to vomit blood.

A hotel bar somewhere in downtown Los Angeles.

He came here in a taxi called by someone ‘over there’ without even knowing their names, and he was faced with two of the biggest names in the industry.

Remy Martin, President of Torrance New Media.

Archibald Pfeiffer, Vice President of Guns and Sword Magazine.

He was usually cheerful and sociable, so he was not easily intimidated by anyone he met, but now the situation was different.

This was because Remy Martin was a man who put a ‘price’ on everything in front of him, and Archibald Pfeiffer was a man who thought of everything as a ‘business’.

At first glance, it felt similar, but the difference was big.

And the attitudes of the two people were completely opposite.

“This, this. A good place was created thanks to a good piece of work.”

Remy Martin, a middle-aged man drinking heartily. His sharp eyes were impressive.

On the other hand, Archibald Pfeiffer, sitting next to him, had a cold, expectant look in his eyes.

“······.”

He enjoys the carbonated water in front of him without saying a word.

“Ms. Piper, is that enough? I told you you can order as much alcohol as you want.”

“I’m fine with this, Mr. Martin.”

“Hey, that’s boring. Simon, what kind of cocktail are you? If you’re a man, you should drink whiskey.”

“For my next drink, I’ll order whiskey.”

“······.”

Simon, who had become wrinkled, sipped the Kahlua milk placed in front of him.

Archibald’s eyes lit up as he observed the distance between the two people.

The reason this place was created was because of what happened yesterday.

Late in the afternoon, Archibald Pfeiffer contacted the company and asked, “We would like to make a distribution agreement to sell your work, ‘Country of Losers,’ to other states.” I thought it was a good offer in many ways, so I readily arranged a meeting, but that evening, I received a call from Remy Martin with the same request.

And Simon was secretly pressuring Remy by saying, “You’re doing this with us, right?” but because of the accumulated memories from his time as an employee, he ended up saying, “We have a prior engagement, so let’s talk after that’s over.”

When Remy heard that, he instantly replied, “Huh? Then let’s watch it together, okay?” and that led to the current situation.

When I complained about this series of events to Julia, this was the reply I got.

‘You’re an idiot for telling Remy that.’

‘Remy is crazy for suggesting that the three of us meet and talk.’

‘Archibald, who responded there, is a fool whose inner thoughts are unknown.’

So be careful.

That was right.

Business was fundamentally ‘cold’ in nature.

If a dramatic device was needed in the work, there were many situations where three companies could come together, but in reality, it was common for a company with a good item to listen to proposals from several companies separately and then make a final decision.

But from the beginning, Remy Martin was the type to shake up a business to get the results he wanted, and Simon, who was still inexperienced as a CEO, got caught up in it without being able to do anything about it.

And the problem was Archibald Pfeiffer, who should have refused such a ridiculous offer, but he obediently accepted.

Archibald’s gaze, after making a brief judgment, swept over Simon coldly.

‘You just have a good piece of work.’

He simply accepted the offer to see what the personalities of the two men involved in the business he was interested in, Simon Carver and Remy Martin, were like.

And seeing Simon’s attitude, he thought he could bring a new writer to his side. He felt incompetent as a businessman, if not as an editor.

And Remy Martin, who, unlike Simon, seemed like he had no discerning eye for art, was a competent businessman. He was violent and blunt, but I was afraid that it was all calculated to gain the benefits he wanted.

“Okay. Then let’s get right into the work story.”

Three cowboys faced each other, each with a revolver in his holster.

If you strip away all the frills in business, the situation isn’t much different.

The first one to pull out his gun, as if it were a given, was Remy Martin.

“How about we discuss where we can distribute our products without making each other blush?”

“We would like to have full rights to distribute ‘Country of Loser’ in other regions.”

The bullet he shot, or in other words the ‘proposal’, was hit by a bullet fired by Archibald Pfeiffer.

Remy bared his fangs like a wolf.

“Hey, good is good. Let’s not let our guard down too much. If we and Gunz go into a ‘bullet’ fight, you probably know which side will have the advantage without me having to say it. It’s embarrassing for me to say it myself.”

“······In that case, the winner will be hard-boiled.”

“Oh, you brought that up. How kind of you to mention it, Vice President Piper.”

“I just wanted to point out that Mr. Simon seemed confused.”

Remy looked at Simon, patting his pomaded hair.

It was a test of sorts, and Simon answered with a big smile.

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Piper.”

“······.”

“Poohaha! This is a masterpiece! Simon! If this was going to happen, why did you quit the company?!”

Archibald was frozen by Simon’s answer, which was so innocent and pure that it far exceeded his expectations, while Remy burst into laughter instead.

Simon, who laughed and said, “Haha” even in a situation where he was treated like an idiot, drank the cocktail in one gulp and opened his mouth, exhaling a breath that contained a faint hint of alcohol.

“Of course, I want to introduce good novels to many readers.”

Simon lowered his hand from his holster in front of the two cowboys who were eagerly waiting for their chance.

It was a weapon that the two people, who could only see their prizes as nothing else but the opponents who appeared before their eyes cruelly, did not have.

Trust and responsibility for the works you publish and the authors you work with.

And his approach was refreshing to the two natural entrepreneurs.

“What do you think would happen if this novel were distributed throughout the United States?”

I can say that because I read this novel and came to believe it.

But ‘naturally’ Archibald and Remi have not read this novel.

The two people who had come simply to play with numbers furrowed their eyebrows, and Simon stood up with a grin.

“First, let’s read the book and then discuss it.”

“yes?”

“No, what are you talking about?”

Archibald’s eyes widened and Remy asked in disbelief.

Simon couldn’t shake the feeling that he was doing something crazy in front of the two people who still felt threatened, but he decided that for now, it was best to say it this way.

“I will contact each company separately in a week. It is not something I strongly recommend, but I would recommend that you read ‘Country of Losers’ until then. We will discuss the terms of the contract again then.”

“Damn. I can’t even read stock charts properly.”

“······There’s something I’d like to ask.”

Archibald, who was struck by Simon’s sudden appearance as he was about to leave, asked.

“Yes, Mr. Piper.”

“Is this how you usually work?”

“Well, think about it however you want.”

Simon slowly turned around, subtly deflecting the question of analyzing himself.

With that, the two of them had no choice but to hesitate in the face of an unexpected counterattack.

I felt as if I had tripped and fallen into a hole someone had dug in the wilderness.

***

Have a meeting with ‘Country of Losers’.

In other words, it felt like they were talking about how they were going to make the author who wrote the work into something like that by dissecting the work in front of the author.

What’s more, the bigger problem is that I decided to take charge of the process.

And Professor Dupree promised me the highest score in return.

‘What should I do?’

The only way out is Corona… No, it won’t break out until much later. There’s no new flu… either. Damn, 1985 is so clean that it’s a problem. No exhaust fumes, no crazy AI trying to make people happy, what a world. I think it needs to be ruined a little more.

‘Is there anything else besides a cold?’

But it was a situation that I couldn’t escape from with such a petty(?) method.

Just as I was thinking that I might have to accept it, I got a call from Simon.

For the moment, I put my immediate worries aside and went to the pay phone in front of the dorm to call him back. To be honest, I heard some surprising news.

“······Remy and Archibald?”

[Yes. I have set aside some time for now, but I was wondering what the author thinks.]

“Oh, well.”

I’m in a new dilemma.

Remy Martin and Archibald Pfeiffer.

Remy was someone I was grateful for in his own way, someone who raised my value as a writer and allowed me to receive a lot of money in the beginning.

And Archibald Pfeiffer······ was the man who would sell Guns and Sword magazine in the future and join Noir Publishing, which was booming at the time, as an executive.

If you think about it that way, it would have been better to choose Remy over Archibald.

‘I don’t want to be associated with Noir Publishing.’

Then is it Remy?

However, there is also a way to work with Archibald and find out what he thinks. I serialized ‘Princess Quest’ in Guns and Sword Magazine, but I only met him briefly when I was signing a contract.

“First, I’ll have to see what kind of offers come in.”

[Well, I wonder if it will work out well······.]

“why?”

[I arbitrarily asked you to read ‘Country of Losers’ as a condition of the contract.]

“Oh, you handled it well?”

[Is that so?]

“A novel is a commercial product, but it is also a work of art, so I want to work with someone who understands its value more deeply. Although I wonder if there are people who actually read either of them.”

[I think so too. I think I’ll have my subordinates create a summary.]

“Poohaha! Well, let’s wait and see the results.”

I ended the call with images of Remy Martin and Archibald Pfeiffer reading books intently.

And as I imagined the two of them groaning and reading books all the way back to the dorm, I couldn’t help but chuckle.

As I climbed the stairs to the dormitory and returned to my room, John, who was sitting at his desk reading a book with a familiar cover, turned his head and looked at me.

I looked at John Smith with his pupils shaking and had to face the homework I had put aside again.

“······god.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Is this really what you wrote?”

“Of course.”

“This is crazy. ······Wow, no. Uh. Um. I feel like I got hit in the head with a hammer right now. How can the world be like this? Is it really going to be like this? I thought that if the Internet developed, borders would break down and everyone would be able to talk to each other and understand each other better······ This is definitely the case.”

“······.”

“Will all these shackles end only when a human dies?”

“Oh, maybe there’s no need to go that desperately.”

“But the future presented in your novel is… so hopeless? How can people curse and slander others like this? Drive Internet stars to suicide? Just because it’s fun, and because they think, ‘Oh, I’m good at it.’ And do that…?”

John Smith is completely confused.

I didn’t respond with an embarrassed look on my face, but he seemed not to want an answer and started to focus on his novel again with a deflated face.

After watching the scene for a while, I quietly sat down in my seat so as not to be disturbed.

‘Let’s do what we have to do.’

Thinking like that, I took out a piece of paper and a pen.

Now that the response to ‘Country of Losers’ is starting to come in, it’s time to write a sequel.

‘But if I use this, it seems like there’s going to be a huge mess······.’

I had a slightly uneasy feeling, but I thought it would be okay.

A novelist simply throws his words into the world, and it is up to the reader to decide how to receive them.

“If this continues, we will have no choice but to destroy humanity!!”

“······.”

Leaving John’s screams behind me, I started writing the next story of ‘Country of Losers’, which I had been thinking about for a long time.

What, I felt like I was writing a book of grimoires that would drive the reader into despair.