The Great Storyteller

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

Juho still remembered his last moments vividly, and his body still remembered what it had been like to struggle in the water. Since coming back from the dead, there had always been a deep-seated question in his heart: “Will I die the same way?” Needless to say, the young author wanted to avoid that fate at all costs, feeling a desperate need to change from his old self. However, before he knew it, that fear had dressed itself as negligence and hid in his subconscious. It had been his dream to become something even greater than a genius: the Great Storyteller. Juho wanted to change desperately.

“I think you’re asking the wrong person here,” Wol said, cackling frivolously. When struck by the realization that Wol had died in a similar manner, Juho found himself feeling slightly better.

“I wish I was in your position, Mr. Kang.”

“Yeah, right,” Wol said, clicking his tongue irritably. Juho brushed his face down with his hand. It was true that there was no reason to be envious of someone who had died.

“Do you read minds now?”

“That’s what being dead will do to a person.”

At that moment, sensing a presence behind him, Juho turned around. A crow was peeking its head in through the sliding door. Upon seeing the bird, Juho felt a strange coldness travel from the floor, up his leg, giving him goosebumps. ‘It can’t be here,’ Juho thought to himself as he rose from his seat and started stomping his feet on the ground. ‘I wanna kill it.’

“Enough,” Wol said firmly. To Juho’s surprise, Wol was looking at the crow and smiling. Confused, Juho furrowed his brow.

“Don’t be heartless now. Let the bird in. It’s cold out,” Wol said.

“I don’t think it’s much better in here,” Juho replied.

“Well, just leave it be. That bird is smarter than you think.”

Juho clenched his lips reluctantly and watched the crow as it walked in through the door and headed toward a corner of the room, remembering that he had never seen it fly.

“Who knows? That bird might know when you’re gonna die,” Wol said.

“… It’s an animal, Mr. Kang.”

“Well, it’s still funny,” Wol said, closing his eyes. Juho tapped on his shoulder, which felt hard to the touch.

“Mr. Kang, I don’t think you should sleep in the cold like this.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I have something to tell you.”

“What?”

“I finished it,” Juho said.

“I know,” Wol replied.

Swallowing nervously, Juho asked desperately, “What did you think?”

“So much for yelling at me. I thought it was your story?”

“Which is why I’m asking. Last time we talked, you said that it wasn’t half bad. How did I do this time?”

“Eh. At least you didn’t make a fool out of me.”

“That goes without saying.”

When Wol remained silent, Juho shouted his name. At which point, a mischievous smile appeared on Wol’s face.

“You did well.”

“… I did?”

“That’s right. I liked it. I would’ve kept it simple toward the end, but nevertheless, it was still interesting. Oh! Personally, writing about lunatics isn’t my thing. I would’ve never done that,” Wol said. The hand with which he was rubbing his stomach started slowing down, eventually stopping.

“Mr. Lim told me that you’ll probably never show yourself to me again.”

“Hm.”

“Where are you headed now?”

“Beats me.”

So far, talking to Wol had been mostly infuriating. It was clear that Wol was trying to provoke the young author. Otherwise, Juho wouldn’t have been so high strung.

“Then, what do you know?” Juho asked with a sigh.

To which, Wol answered, moving only his lips, “One day, you’ll repeat the same mistake you made in the past.”

Looking down at him, Juho said, “I’ll never make that mistake again.”

“Life is long. You just wait.”

While Juho was at a loss for words, Wol rolled his eyes and looked toward the young author, saying, “It happens. Just don’t blame yourself too much. You’ll be fine.”

“… Very helpful, Mr. Kang.”

“Like I said, there’s no need to be so tense all the time. At the end of the day, you are you, and a novel is a novel. You’re contributing to society somehow. Even if you’re doing nothing but breathing and existing.”

“But you’re dead.”

“… Always hitting where it hurts most,” Wol said, his eyes closed half-way.

“Life is long, so you just keep writing until you feel confident. It’s your story, so feel free to do as you wish.”

At that moment, the wind came along, blowing against Wol’s lifeless hair. No matter how many times Juho called out to him, Wol didn’t respond.

“So, this is what it’s like to die twice,” Wol said with a grin on his face, his eyes filled with life for a brief moment. “Not bad. Not bad at all.”

“Hold on, Mr. Kang!” Juho exclaimed, grabbing Wol. Still with questions left to ask, the young author wasn’t ready to let Wol go just yet.

Then, raising his finger, Wol pointed up at the sky and said, “It’s morning.”

With that, Juho opened his eyes and jumped out of his bed. The shadow cast throughout the apartment was telling Juho that it was about to be evening. Realizing that Wol had lied up to the very last moment, Juho chuckled. At that moment…

“What are you smiling about?”

Juho looked back, startled by the voice coming from behind him.

“What are you looking at?” the voice asked.

“Mr. Lim.”

“You might wanna lock your door. Otherwise, you might end up dying quicker than you anticipated.”

Rubbing his tired eyes, Juho said, “I don’t wanna die.”

“Then, you better lock your door.”

“Yes, sir,” Juho said, still chuckling. He couldn’t help himself for some reason.

“Seems like you’re in a good mood,” Hyun Do said.

“Maybe,” Juho replied.

“I suppose it makes sense, especially with Wol out of your hair.”

“Are you here to read the manuscript, Mr. Lim?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said about the manuscript, so I had to come. If you don’t feel comfortable showing it to me, that is perfectly fine.”

“Not at all. One moment.”

With that, Juho went into his room and brought out the manuscript.

—

“Apparently, Hyun Do Lim cried after reading it.”

Ignoring the voices coming from behind him, Seo Kwang blew his nose. The sound reverberated through the entire cafe, drawing everyone’s attention. However, with his eyes fixed on the book in front of him, Seo Kwang paid no attention to them. Every sentence of the book was heart-wrenching, and the cold, cruel reality made him teary-eyed. Seo Kwang simply couldn’t stop crying while reading the book, which was about an evil protagonist and the surrounding characters. However, the owner of the cafe burst into laughter at the sight, holding her sides.

“Oh, my. I guess my son still has a lot more growing to do.”

“Leave me alone, mom!” Seo Kwang said, pulling away from the book in order to prevent his tears from falling on the pages, unsure of how to stop the tears flowing down his cheeks. “What beautiful souls,” he murmured as the snot flowed into his mouth.

At which point, his mother warned him, “You better keep it down. You’re not the only person in here, you know.”

“Man, what do you know, mom!?”

“I read the book too, you know.”

“Wol Kang is a GENIUS!” Seo Kwang said.

At that moment, another voice interjected and said, “What are you doing?”

It was Baron, who was staring at him in disbelief. Rubbing his red nose, Seo Kwang waved at the unexpected guest. However, Baron backed away and asked, “Are you crying?”

“You read it too, right?”

As if at a loss for words, Baron chuckled and nodded.

“Did you cry?”

“Nope.”

They were referring to Wol Kang’s last, unfinished book, which had been released recently. Needless to say, the book had been met with tremendous acclaim. In actuality, Baron had cried for the first time in a long time while reading Yun Woo’s book. Picking up Seo Kwang’s book, Baron said, “I don’t know if it’s because the author wrote it while he was on his deathbed, but it felt very different from his other books.”

“I agree. Wol Kang’s books aren’t usually this depressing,” Seo Kwang said, pulling tissues out of the box.

“If he had actually finished it before he passed away, the book wouldn’t have been the same.”

“I was caught off guard by how easily Juho killed off the client.”

“I know, right!?” Seo Kwang exclaimed, agreeing emphatically. The client’s death scene was arguably one of the most discussed parts of the book. “I don’t know if he’s bold or if he’s lost his mind, but if I were in his shoes, I wouldn’t have dared change anything. If anything, I’d keep it as it was for the rest of my life!”

“Then, what’s the point in picking up where the author left off? Why bother instead of releasing it unfinished?”

“Think about it, Baron. Why do you think nobody knew about this book? Because there are a lot of people out there who think the same way I do,” Seo Kwang said. Then, adding in a whisper, “Frankly, Juho appeared in agony too.”

“Did he?”

“Now that I’ve read the book, I can see why. I mean, that prologue is just way too intense. Wol Kang established such a strong framework that it’s almost impossible to ignore. It almost made me wish that Juho would have left it intact,” Seo Kwang said.

“I’m sure Juho thought the same.”

“Yet, this is the product he puts out. You know, I don’t think I mind seeing that agonized look on Juho’s face for a while longer,” Seo Kwang said half-jokingly, clenching his hands into fists.

“Poor guy.”

“I gotta admit it, though. It gave me the most satisfying reading experience in a long time,” Seo Kwang said.

“I agree.”

“I still can’t get over the transition between Wol Kang’s and Yun Woo’s writing. I got goosebumps the moment I realized that it really was a collaboration between the two authors.”

Listening to Seo Kwang raving, Baron looked around the store. Then, spotting a noticeably empty spot in the shelf, he said, “I think I can guess which book was on that shelf.”

“Well, there isn’t much of a point in saying it, is there?”

“I’ve been in the mood for more Wol Kang lately. Do you carry his books?”

“Of course!” Seo Kwang said, getting a book from another shelf, which was also quite empty, and Baron was made certain that there would be a Wol-Kang wave all over again in the near future. The fact that Yun Woo had brought Wol Kang back only reinforced that prediction.

“How intriguing,” Baron murmured. Although the author was no longer around, his stories still remained relevant and in print, and that was most likely going to stay that way even after Baron and Yun Woo died.

“I felt like getting myself a pair of leather gloves after reading that book.”

“Genuine leather is expensive. Maintenance is a pain in the neck too.”

“So, you’ve already done the research, huh?” Baron asked.

“Seriously, Yun Woo really knows how to write about death,” Seo Kwang said.

“But, there was something slightly different about this book, don’t you think?” Baron asked.

“So, you felt that too, huh?”

Those who had been reading Yun Woo’s books were bound to have noticed an uncanny difference in his recent book. The young author had showcased a different side of himself through the new book. Although Seo Kwang and Baron had assumed that it had something to do with the author finishing a book that the original author had left unfinished, that assumption was becoming less and less convincing.

“Yun Woo’s portrayal of death always felt like it was being told from a first-person perspective,” Seo Kwang said.

“But this time, it almost felt like you were watching somebody else die,” Baron replied.

“Though, I’m sure the protagonist being a murderer plays a part in that.”

“You mean the depiction of the character, right?”

Yun Woo had always pursued change and brought back something new and original. In Baron’s mind, the snot hanging from Seo Kwang’s nose was proof that the young author had succeeded. A massive one, at that.

“Maybe he’s grown up too.”

“Well, people don’t call him the Great Storyteller for no reason. I guess he’s living up to his reputation,” Baron said.

Rubbing his nose, Seo Kwang added, “So… After reading that book, I imagined Juho dying…”

“And?” Baron asked, furrowing his brow slightly.

“He fell from above.”

“From above?”

“Yeah, plummeting down.”

Baron blinked awkwardly at Seo Kwang’s bizarre remark, thinking, ‘That’s a weird way of putting it.’

“You mean… Murdered?”

“Probably suicide.”

“What about the body?”

“It was nowhere to be found,” Seo Kwang said. As Baron crossed his arms, Seo Kwang explained, “It had already drifted away in the water.”

“You’re getting into a lot of really uncomfortable details, you know that?”

“It helps with translating.”

“Wouldn’t it be more helpful to expand your vocabulary?” Baron asked.

“If I were to prioritize my mental health, yes,” Seo Kwang replied. However, Baron scoffed and didn’t take Seo Kwang’s answer seriously. It was absurd to think that the young author would commit suicide. Nevertheless, it was still fun to talk about it.

“How old do you think Juho will be when he dies?” Seo Kwang asked, bringing up the question that would come to mind from time to time when looking at the young author. Wincing at the question initially, Baron concluded that no one was capable of answering it.

“How am I supposed to know? Who do you think I am, God?”

“Well, I hope he sticks around,” Seo Kwang said.

To which, Baron curled his lips and said, “I hope he keeps writing. For as long as he can.”

“I agree,” Seo Kwang said, still sniffling, and added, “I wish we could all live long lives, preferably together.”

“What in the world are you guys talking about?” Seo Kwang’s mother asked, tossing her son a towel, and added, “Go wash your face!”