Novelist Running Through Time - Chapter 222



Only Noblemtl

EP 13 – The World of Changes

To get to Baekhak Entertainment in the heart of Seoul, you have to transfer to a subway for a long time.

(Because my job is my job) I wasn’t complaining that it took a long time because I could just write or think about things in my head even though my body was tied up.

When you’re on the subway and you get lost in your thoughts while people-watching, it’s common to miss a stop or two and not get off on time.

Today was just that kind of day.

Since I was a free person who didn’t have to commute to work or school anyway, wasting an hour or two on the subway wasn’t a big deal, but the problem was that I had an appointment that day.

As a result, Lim Yang-wook, who met at the promised location, an okonomiyaki restaurant, had the appearance of a red-hot takoyaki.

“Hey! Why are you so late!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Excuse me? This kid is starting to speak informally to me now that we’re close.”

“regret.”

Fortunately, the reason Im Yang-wook’s smooth scalp turned red was not because he was angry, but because the sunlight was hot.

As I entered the cool store, thankfully, Im Yang-wook’s hair had regained its color.

Lim Yang-wook, who had calmed down, smiled cheerfully as usual and recommended the menu.

“It’s a weekday so there aren’t many people around so it’s perfect. What do you want to eat?”

I looked around the Japanese-style interior in amazement, but then felt a little embarrassed about showing that I hadn’t been to a place like this before (the Saebitneulbom Family would know what I mean), so I answered indifferently.

“At the okonomiyaki restaurant, you have to eat okonomiyaki, yaki.”

Although I did break my pronunciation once in the middle, it was an answer that I can proudly say was cool and chic.

But Im Yang-wook’s answer puzzles me once again.

“Isn’t this an okonomiyaki place? It’s a monjayaki place?”

“Isn’t that it?”

“No, there’s something called monjayaki. It looks a bit like vomit, but… it’s delicious, so try it anyway.”

I secretly wondered how hideous the food could look if it looked like vomit, but it soon became clear that Im Yang-wook’s words were not an exaggeration at all.

“······It really looks like vomit.”

“I told you it was delicious.”

“Isn’t this something that pigeons peck at?”

“Hey, churai churai.”

I started to doubt myself again when I received a spoon that looked like a gum-removing tool from a classroom instead of a spoon, but this time, Im Yang-wook’s words were true.

“Why is it delicious?”

“I said it was delicious.”

I scoop up the seafood, green onions, cabbage, eggs, and bonito flakes that are cooking flat on a sizzling iron plate, and put spoonfuls and twos into my mouth, blowing on them.

While listening to the lecture of the honorary Japanese professor Yaeuki Imura, I even got a tip that Okonomiyaki is a Kansai food and Monjayaki is a Kanto food.

Lim Yang-wook ordered sake, and I said that it was delicious so let’s order another one, and then while drinking cola, I felt something was missing…

I realized the reason for that emptiness.

“Oh, what about President Baek?”

When Lim Yang-wook and I met, there was one member who was absolutely necessary.

As for why I only realized this now, I can only make excuses that it’s always been like that these days.

And it seems that today is no exception to those ‘late days’.

“The boss is busy so he can’t come today.”

“ah······”

The three members of the ‘Baekhak Entertainment underground parking lot gang’ who used to gather often, whether they were releasing a new work, having a nice day, having a cloudy day, or even when someone was bored, rarely got together anymore.

It was because Snow White left us behind and went up too high…

“Hey, Emma, ​​when you say it like that, it sounds like you’re paying tribute to someone.”

“It’s true that it went up high in the sky.”

“That’s right, he’s not at the age where he should be going that far···”

A young person who has risen too high even though he is not at that age···

It seems like I won’t be able to see Snow White as often as I used to.

(Even though he is the president of a plant company) the position of CEO of Baekhakmunko is not an easy one.

And in fact···

It was the same for Im Yang-wook.

Lim Yang-wook is no longer someone like my manager, but rather an executive who is treated as a high-ranking official at both Baekhak Entertainment and Baekhak Bookstore.

He was in an awkward position, tightroping between the two companies, like the director of Moon Chung-jae who acted like a tomboy between Catholicism and Protestantism, but he was a busy man anyway.

Compared to those two, I was just a mere writer, so perhaps I should feel grateful that Im Yang-wook comes to me every time he writes a new piece, if only out of old affection.

“I’m sorry… I was wrong… I was too busy… Please stop…”

“Is it okay for your Majesty to bow down to a mere writer like this?”

“Next time, I’ll definitely bring Representative Baek, so please calm down a bit···”

“Who said that they were upset? These days, I keep thinking about Kyobo Bookstore and Youngpoong Bookstore···”

After finishing my peaceful conversation with Im Yang-wook, the meal was already coming to an end.

Only then does the story start to come out.

“Have you heard that the cartoon “Cheonbyeon Manhwa” became a bestseller?”

“yes.”

“This arrogant kid… Now he takes first place for granted?”

“That’s because I didn’t write it well.”

I once dreamed of writing a masterpiece that would become a bestseller.

And a beggar wearing sunglasses, scattering wads of money in a big house.

Yeah, that’s right, that’s what I thought when I was getting beaten up by bullies in my middle school dormitory.

But now I know that success isn’t achieved through hard work.

No, it is true that success is the reward for effort, but that success cannot be the result of one person’s effort.

This world is so huge.

Although I am the only person who wrote the novel ‘Cheonbyeon Manhwa’, it was thanks to the past efforts of the publishing company including Im Yang-wook that the novel was able to become the number one bestseller, and also thanks to the support of Baekhak Group, which monopolizes media power.

So this is not my success.

Humans cannot possess ‘success’.

Man was but a small boat tossed about on a stormy sea.

No matter how great I am, how solid is that ‘greatness’?

Even tomorrow, if there is one piece of fake news, my reputation will be ruined, and if there is one betrayal by Lim Yang-wook, the material abundance I enjoy will end.

And that’s not all. You could suddenly meet a knife-wielding murderer while walking down the street, or you could lose a leg in a car accident while riding in a taxi.

and······

You might get cancer.

Perhaps, all of this reality could turn into a dream and disappear into the distance of time.

“······”

However, I decided to look for the ‘real thing’.

In the fear that my existence and the world I exist in could collapse at any moment, I decided to stop hiding in the world I created and find a handful of truth in this illusory reality.

That is the path of art that I have chosen to walk.

Something that is unchanging.

But, it is something that changes infinitely.

It is an epiphany that even I do not yet know what it is, but I have caught a glimpse of its possibility in my hands.

That’s right······

* * *

“······So that’s how this novel ended?”

“yes.”

After listening to my rambling story, Im Yang-wook remained silent for a moment, then frowned and racked his brain.

“Is this the way of thinking of a genius who can’t recognize the criminal or something? I really don’t understand······”

It’s a bitter laugh because those words sting, but there’s nothing I can do about it.

It may sound a bit grandiose to say this, but my creative world was built on two experiences I had.

But common sense tells you that one person cannot be granted two times.

In order to avoid being treated as a lunatic, I cannot speak of my time travel experience.

So when I talk to someone about my literature, the conversation often gets very esoteric and enters a world of subtle metaphors.

I too would not be able to understand what others were saying if I were to listen to them, so I could sympathize with the feeling of bewilderment that Lim Yang-wook felt.

But the reason I like Im Yang-wook is because he is a person who recognizes my literature even in these poor and empty conversations.

“Yes, you always treated the concept of ‘ownership’ as important. Owning life, owning literature…”

“Oh, that’s right.”

“And because I have a tendency to secretly escape reality by writing novels, I often use pronouns instead of giving names to the characters…”

“That’s a bit unfair.”

“What do you mean, you little punk? Do you think I don’t know that you always empathize with the main character when you write novels?”

While I denied Im Yang-wook’s groundless slander and defamation, I could not hide my shock.

As if he had seen through my mind, Lim Yang-wook smirked and seemed confident in his reasoning.

“So, selling love can’t be art?”

“No… it may be possible, but in the end, it is just a means.”

Love, and yourself.

No matter how much you process it to suit the perspective of others, or package it for easy consumption and sell it, its beauty is ultimately a beauty that cannot be ‘owned’.

No matter how much beauty you purchase, in the end it comes from someone else.

The only concept I can possess is ‘me’.

I have always thought of literature as something that humans can fully possess.

And now I know why.

Literature is something that the author has created. It contains the humanity of the author.

Therefore, literature is an extension of ‘me’.

It is eternal not only because it is inside my head, but also because it is an extension of my being called ‘me’.

Therefore, true beauty lies within me.

Beauty imposed by others is nothing but an illusion.

Art, even if it is literature, cannot ultimately be a goal.

Looking back, it’s always been like that.

Even in painful moments, expressing my sadness in writing was not just an act of self-defense, transferring the hatred in my heart onto paper.

It was a struggle to protect myself even in pain.

Literature has been a shield that has protected me from the beginning.

Therefore, burning humanity and pouring it into art is the wrong answer.

In the end, everything must return to where it started.

That was exactly the realization I got from ‘Cheonbyeon Manhwa’.

* * *

“The man hesitated until the last moment.”

* * *

“Star! Where are you going! At this late hour…! Hey!”

* * *

“That hesitation came from his past. That past was not only his own, but it was also something that the man had already painted over with his own colors and sold.

“Fuck···”

Her end was ugly.

The human spirit, facing death, was completely crushed, unable to distinguish between the past and the present, and, immersed in her resentment and hatred, she only spewed terrible insults at the man.

But in the man’s memory, there were beautiful times with her.

But although it was beautiful to the man, it was not beautiful to the public, so the man sold his most precious memories by dangling vulgar decorations.

The woman I loved the most, and the woman who is already dead.

The man was holding an envelope containing 56.27 million won, the money he had earned from writing a novel based on his relationship with her.

The darkest part of the man whispered that he should pay off his debt with the money and have a bottle of liquor.

But in the man’s memory, she was still beautiful, even if not to others, so he hurried his hesitant steps into the house.

The house the man was trying to visit was not one that he had to climb up stairs to get to, but one that he had to go down.

Moldy basement.

I swallow my saliva and knock on the door.

After a noise like the creaking of rusty hinges, a skinny child slowly pokes his head out.

“who are you···?”

The man looked down at the child for a moment, thinking about an appropriate title for himself.

The title that came out was truly shabby.

“Your mother’s ex-boyfriend.”

The man looked embarrassed for a moment, then pretended to harden his expression.

Then he handed the child an envelope and said:

“Tell this to your father.”

And then, without even listening to the child’s answer, he quietly turned around and left.

Somewhere in the alley filled with memories, she seemed to be smiling at him.

Her appearance in my memory was still beautiful.

No matter what others say.

“From the old days, unchanging, just the same.”

* * *

Kim Byeol stood in front of the door.

When he looked back, he saw his mother holding his wrist with tears in her eyes, overcome with shock and sadness.

The mother said to her daughter.

“Star···!”

Kim Byeol’s eyes welled up with tears as she heard her mother call out the name until the end.

“That’s not my name, Mom.”

Mother with a blank expression.

Kim Byeol opened the door and ran out, with an expression that made it hard to tell whether she was crying or laughing.

The night sky, where no stars could be seen, but where stars were clearly shining beyond, welcomed the girl who had come out into the world.