An Uneasy Premonition
Staring at the rough sketch scrawled across the notebook page, I was certain.
It was possible.
Not merely writing the words—but rendering the images themselves. I could pull the entire world inside my head out into the open, complete and whole.
I grabbed my phone at once.
"Hey, hyung. It's me."
"Hey, Minjun. What's up? Something wrong?"
"I need a favor. Right now—use the corporate card and go shopping for me."
"Shopping? What do you need?"
"Webtoon gear. A display tablet and every legitimate program that goes with it. The absolute best of everything."
"…Out of nowhere?"
Confusion colored his voice. Fair enough—I was a writer. Drawing sat so far from my lane it might as well have been another planet.
"You're going to draw?"
"Yeah. Thought I'd give it a shot."
"You've never taken a single art class."
"Just… a feeling. It's my story—I know it better than anyone. Figured even roughing out some storyboards might help."
I hedged. But hyung didn't press.
"Got it. I'll send everything by courier. Should be there by this evening."
"Thanks."
I hung up and clenched my fist tight.
Hyung moved fast. By evening, massive boxes filled the studio—a top-of-the-line display tablet and a full suite of professional software.
I set everything up, then drew a long breath.
Let's go.
I took the pen. The grip felt alien at first—until Muse synced, and the strangeness vanished in an instant.
A jolt—!
Current sparked from my fingertips, raced up my arm, and slammed into my brain. My body felt like a colossal printer come to life.
The scenes from Episode 1 of The Regressed Hunter is Merciless, locked away in my mind, unspooled like a panorama. The protagonist's despair. The hiss of rain. The cold bite of metal. The hunger for revenge.
Every sensation poured onto the screen as line and color.
Scratch, scratch.
The digital pen rasped across the display in a bright, lively rhythm. I couldn't stop. Meals, sleep—all of it forgotten. Pure trance.
This immersion lived on a different plane from writing. If the pleasure of capturing something in text rated a hundred, realizing it visually hit a thousand.
That expression.
The twisted face of a betrayed hero.
That angle.
The chill gaze looking down on the villain.
The exact scene I had imagined—not a single detail off, no, rendered even more perfectly than I had dreamed—took shape on the screen.
Three days.
Three full days passed. I never once stepped outside the studio.
"Hahh…"
At last I set the pen down. Sweat soaked me through. My eyes burned; my wrist throbbed. The mirror showed a wreck—scruffy beard, hollow cheeks. But the eyes staring back blazed with light.
"It's done."
On the screen, Episode 1 of The Regressed Hunter is Merciless stood complete. Not rough storyboards. Coloring, shading, backgrounds—every last element finished to perfection.
I scrolled slowly. The quality stole the breath from my lungs. No existing webtoon could match this transfer. Impossible. This was territory only the original author—and Muse—could claim.
I smirked and picked up the phone.
"Hyung."
My voice came out cracked and raw.
"Minjun! You went dark for three days—what the hell were you doing, barricaded in there?"
Worry flooded his tone.
"Working. Hyung, can you talk right now?"
"Yeah, I'm free. Why?"
"Let's add a webtoon division to the company."
"…What?"
He couldn't find words.
"A webtoon division?"
"Yeah. I'm going to produce it myself."
"Produce it? You know how brutal that is. You need a whole crew, systems, infrastructure… And you're supposed to be writing. When are you going to draw on top of that?"
"Turns out I might have a knack for it."
"A knack?"
"Yeah."
Silence stretched on the other end. Then a short, disbelieving laugh.
"You… what kind of genius are you?"
"…"
"First novel you ever write blows up, and now drawing too?"
"That's what I'm saying."
"Well… fair enough."
He didn't argue.
"You were like that with design too. Stuff that took other people three hours, you finished in thirty minutes—and better. I know the instincts are real, so I trust you…"
He remembered everything I had shown at the company. This wasn't blind faith because I was family. It was trust built from every result I had ever delivered.
"Still, a webtoon isn't a one-man job."
"I know. That's why we build a division. I'll handle overall direction, storyboards, and some of the art. The rest can go to staff. We don't even need a full production crew—just people for distribution, editing, and schedule management. That should keep it running."
"Hmm…"
He seemed to weigh it.
"All right. I'll talk to CEO Kang, pull the info we need, and start drafting a hiring plan."
"Thanks, hyung. And I just sent you a file."
"A file?"
"Check your email. It should help convince CEO Kang."
"What is it?"
"You'll know when you see it."
I hung up and sank deep into the chair. Tension drained away, leaving a heavy, pleasant exhaustion.
Now… time to wait for the reaction.
Gangnam shared office.
Park Do-hun hung up and stared blankly at his phone.
"A webtoon division…"
Minjun's drive defied imagination. The corporation wasn't even a week old and he was already talking expansion. Anyone else, Do-hun would have called them insane and shut it down.
But Minjun?
It might actually work.
The novel had already proven it.
Do-hun opened his inbox in a hurry. Webtoon Episode 1. The file Minjun had sent.
"He seriously drew this in three days?"
Hands trembling, he extracted the archive. The moment the file opened—
"…!"
Do-hun's eyes went wide.
"What… is this?"
An overwhelming image filled the monitor. From the very first panel, he couldn't look away. A rain-lashed battlefield. An atmosphere so raw you could almost smell the blood. Murderous light in the protagonist's eyes.
This wasn't merely good art. The exact image that had formed in his mind while reading the novel—no, something even more intense—now stood before him in living color.
"Insane…"
Every scroll dragged a fresh gasp out of him. It felt different from the novel. Where text offered the pleasure of imagination, the webtoon delivered pure visual impact. One thing was certain:
"They're both so ridiculously good you can't even compare them."
Do-hun swallowed hard. Quality like this made an agency unnecessary. In some ways, handing it to one would be a crime.
He dialed CEO Kang Suk-woo without delay.
Studio Nangan office.
CEO Kang Suk-woo bounced his leg in agitation.
"Hahh…"
He picked up his phone, set it down, picked it up again—dozens of times. Toonmix was applying pressure.
"CEO Kang, this is taking a while. We can't wait forever. Other titles are lined up. If we don't hear back today, the terms may change."
An ultimatum, for all practical purposes. He wanted to refuse, but he had no alternative. Other agencies offered similar or worse conditions.
Do I have to persuade the author?
The author had said he would think about it, but Kang knew that was a polite no. Still, walking away from a webtoon adaptation simply wasn't realistic.
Then the phone rang. President Park Do-hun.
"Yes, President. This is Kang Suk-woo."
"CEO Kang, are you free?"
"Yes, of course. Is this about the webtoon matter…?"
"It is. I just spoke with Minjun."
Kang swallowed. Please let it be good news.
"We've decided to create a separate webtoon division inside our company."
"…Excuse me?"
He doubted his ears.
"I'm sorry—what do you mean? A webtoon division? You're producing it yourselves?"
"Yes. The author is completely set on it."
"President, that is nowhere near as simple as it sounds."
Kang spoke urgently.
"If it succeeds, the revenue would dwarf anything an agency could deliver—no question. But the risk is enormous. Finding talent is like plucking stars from the sky, and maintaining quality is even harder."
He had watched countless web novel authors charge into self-produced webtoons only to crash and burn. Writing and drawing were entirely different crafts.
"And the author still has to write. Trying to manage webtoon production on top of serialization will leave him with neither."
"I thought the same. But first, I sent you an email. Look at it, then we'll talk."
"An email?"
Puzzled, Kang refreshed his inbox.
The Regressed Hunter is Merciless — Webtoon Episode 1 Sample.
Sample?
Had he at least drafted storyboards? Half hope, half dread, Kang opened the file.
And then—
"…Hhk."
A rough gasp filled the office. Kang shot to his feet. He shoved his face toward the monitor, rubbed his eyes, and looked again.
"What… what is this?"
Genuine shock. He was a veteran of the industry. He had seen countless webtoons, dissected the art of every so-called mega-hit. But this was different. This was another dimension.
"This… isn't weekly-serialization quality."
Every single panel was an illustration. Background detail, facial expression, the kinetic flow of action—all of it perfect. Most webtoon artists, racing a weekly deadline, inevitably compromise: 3D assets for backgrounds, simplified coloring. This manuscript held no compromise. It carried the density of something carved, stitch by stitch, by a master craftsman.
In a week? No—in three days?
"Impossible…"
Even gathering the industry's top artists would struggle to match this. And it wasn't mere technical skill. The same thrill Kang had felt reading the novel for the first time—the overwhelming impact that had radiated through the text—had been translated, intact, into images. Direction only possible from someone who understood the original more perfectly than anyone else.
"The author… drew this himself?"
Kang asked as if entranced.
"Yes. Locked himself in the studio for three days and drew the whole thing."
"…"
Words failed him. A monster. He had thought the man a genius with words alone—and now art as well? This was cheating.
Another call came through. The Toonmix team lead. The timing was almost comical. Kang put Do-hun on hold and answered.
"CEO Kang, have you decided?"
"Ah, Team Lead."
Kang's voice had gone calm. The earlier anxiety had vanished without a trace.
"Yes. I've decided. Consider the contract void."
"…What? Are you serious right now?"
Shock flooded the other end.
"CEO, you're making a mistake. Turn down our terms and you will never get anything close elsewhere. A rookie author and a webtoon adaptation? That won't be easy."
"I appreciate the concern, but—"
Kang let out a short laugh.
"We've decided to produce it ourselves."
"Yourselves? Haha, please. Aren't you taking the webtoon industry a little lightly?"
Scorn laced the words.
"CEO. Other authors don't think their IP is special either. There's a reason they still hand it to webtoon companies. I don't know who you outsourced to, but…"
"…"
"That quality will never hold. Plenty of people pour everything into Episode 1 and then collapse. Don't come crying later…"
"Team Lead."
Kang cut him off.
"I'll be honest with you."
He spoke while staring at the overwhelming art on his monitor.
"I feel like I've been scammed."
"Scammed? See? Exactly what I—"
"No. The quality is so absurd I keep wondering if a human actually drew it."
"…?"
"It's the best webtoon I've ever seen. Even if you lined up every flagship artist at Toonmix, I don't think they could hit this level."
"CEO, are you joking?"
"I'm completely serious. When it launches, make sure you check it out. It'll sting a little."
Click.
He hung up. The satisfaction was pure.
Hahh…
No joke at all. This was a scam. One person writing and drawing—both at the absolute top tier—was a blatant balance break, pure cheating.
Kang called Park Do-hun back.
"President."
"Yes."
"Anything I can do to help the webtoon division, I will give it everything I've got."
Certainty filled Kang's voice.
"This is guaranteed. I'll stake my own wrist on it."
A few days later.
A building on Teheran-ro in Gangnam. Outside the office bearing the Muse Co., Ltd. sign, a man paced.
Managing Director Choi of Ad Like.
"This is… the company Manager Park started?"
Choi couldn't close his mouth. A prime office in a brand-new building. The deposit alone would run into the hundreds of millions of won.
"No way…"
He doubted his own eyes. Barely a week since they quit, and they already had a place like this?
Don't know their place…
Jealousy surged. They must have scraped every last loan, or gone to loan sharks. No other way a former manager could land something like this.
"Right. All flash, no substance."
He forced the comfort on himself. But his heart stayed tangled. Company affairs were a disaster. His father hounded him daily; clients kept peeling away. He had to bring Park Do-hun back somehow.
A twenty-percent raise… will that be enough?
If he'd known about an office like this, he would have prepared more. No—it was still all bark and no bite. A cash raise would look more attractive.
Choi straightened his tie and swallowed hard.
"Let's go."
He rode the elevator up. The automatic doors opened onto a sleek, modern office. And there—
"Oh? Managing Director Choi?"
He came face to face with Park Do-hun. Immaculate suit. Not a trace of the old worn-out look—only easy, abundant composure. Beside him, Kang Minjun stood drawing espresso from a top-of-the-line machine.
Choi felt himself shrink. He looked haggard; they overflowed with ease. By every logic, the ones who should be trembling with insecurity after abandoning a stable company were them.
"Manager Park…"
Choi forced the words out. Do-hun's eyes cooled to ice.
An uneasy premonition crawled up Managing Director Choi's spine.