The Path of Repayment

When I nodded in answer to Jae-hun's question, a brief silence settled over the private room.

And then—

"H-huh…"

Jae-hun made a sound like the air had been punched out of his lungs and clapped a hand over his mouth. He rubbed his eyes in disbelief, stared at me again, then shot up from his seat.

"H-Hyeong-nim…. No—Author-nim!"

"Just take it easy. Hearing 'Hyeong-nim' still feels a little weird."

"I couldn't possibly! How could I dare…! Wait, is this real? I'm a total fan!"

Jae-hun's face flushed crimson. This wasn't the demeanor of a man simply meeting his girlfriend's older brother. His eyes burned with the fervor of a true believer who had just come face-to-face with a celebrity—or a god.

At that over-the-top reaction, Min-ji tilted her head.

"Oppa, is it really that famous?"

"Famous doesn't even begin to cover it!"

Jae-hun shouted, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Min-ji, you don't know? The entire web novel scene is going insane right now over whether the greatest work of all time has just arrived. You go on any community board and it's nothing but talk about Hyeong-nim—I mean, the author!"

"Th-that much?"

"Honestly, I think it is the greatest of all time. The pacing, the prose—I was convinced no human could have written this…. And it turns out it was you, Hyeong-nim."

Jae-hun was so overcome he couldn't even finish his sentence.

My parents looked stunned as well. They'd known their son was making decent money, but watching a doctor—someone whose social success was essentially guaranteed, even as a resident—fawn over me like this clearly hadn't sunk in yet.

"Is that really true, son? Is our Minjun really that remarkable?"

Father asked carefully.

Jae-hun swallowed hard before answering.

"Yes, Father, Mother. Ha…. I don't really know this industry well enough to explain it properly, but…."

He thought for a moment, then started counting on his fingers, reaching for analogies.

"If this were soccer, he'd be Son Heung-min. If it were film, he'd be Director Bong Joon-ho. If it were the Olympics, he'd be Kim Yuna."

"Good heavens."

Mother's mouth fell open.

"Th-that much?"

"Yes! At least among people who read web novels right now, that's the level of prestige we're talking about. It's a full-blown phenomenon—a syndrome!"

Of course I knew there was a healthy dose of fan exaggeration mixed in. But for getting the point across to my parents, no analogy could have been more perfect.

Father cleared his throat and reached for his water glass, but his hand was trembling ever so slightly. Mother stared at my face as if trying to bore a hole through it. In her eyes, disbelief warred with a swelling pride that was almost too much to contain.

Our son… is really that big?

These were parents who had never once in their lives been able to freely brag about their child in front of other people. And now the man who would become their son-in-law—a doctor, no less—was validating me this thoroughly. Their shoulders had every right to square up a little.

"Um, if I may…."

Jae-hun asked carefully.

"The webtoon adaptation…. Would it be all right if I asked how that's going? Looking at the top comments, everyone's just waiting for the webtoon."

"Ah, the webtoon."

I flipped a piece of meat on the grill and answered casually.

"It's going well. You can look forward to it."

"R-really?!"

"This is still under embargo—so keep it secret, but…."

I lowered my voice slightly.

"When chapter 150 drops, the webtoon launches at the same time. About ten episodes will drop all at once."

"Hah."

Jae-hun sucked in a sharp breath.

"Insane…. Wow, that's crazy. Chapter 150 isn't that far off, is it?"

"Which is exactly why you can't tell anyone. It's a spoiler."

"Of course! I'll take it to my grave!"

Jae-hun nodded with solemn resolve. Then he rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a pen and a small notebook—the kind doctors always seemed to keep tucked in their coat pockets.

"Um…. If it wouldn't be too much trouble, could I possibly get an autograph? I'll treasure it as my number-one possession."

"Haha, of course."

I laughed awkwardly and took the notebook.

The moment he received the signed page, Jae-hun looked like a man who had just been handed the entire world.

From that point on, the dinner table bloomed with conversation—all of it about me. What kind of stories was I writing? How much money was I making? Would there be a drama adaptation someday?

I answered every one of my parents' questions, one by one. Jae-hun chimed in from the side, elevating my status even further with every enthusiastic agreement.

"Father, please have more of this meat. I'll grill it!"

"No, no, you eat plenty yourself."

"I'm fine! Author-nim is working hard enough grilling—I should be the one doing it!"

It was warm. Easy. Happy.

No one fretted over price tags. No one fretted over the future. There was only pride in a successful son, and talk of a bright road ahead.

So this is what success tastes like.

I popped a perfectly seared piece of beef into my mouth and thought it through. The laughter of my family was sweeter than any juice that flooded my tongue.

After the meal, on the way out.

Once we'd dropped Jae-hun off, my parents headed home first. That left me alone with Min-ji for a while.

"Oppa."

Min-ji spoke up abruptly as we walked toward the parking lot.

"Thank you for today. Because of you…. I really feel like I can breathe again."

"About what?"

"Just… everything. In front of Jae-hun, and in front of Mom and Dad."

She scuffed the ground with the tip of her shoe.

"Honestly, I've been shrinking myself a lot while dating him. His family is a family of doctors, and ours is…. ordinary."

"…"

"Every time marriage came up, I dodged it. The wedding gifts, the bridal trousseau—all those practical problems felt overwhelming. And I didn't want to be a burden on Mom and Dad."

I already knew.

I knew why Min-ji had stayed in our hometown. Why she hadn't come up to Seoul, and why she was working as a nurse here instead.

"The reason you stayed here instead of going to Seoul," I said casually.

"Was because I was the one who got greedy and left for the city first."

"Huh?"

Min-ji stared at me, startled.

"Our family couldn't afford to send both of us to Seoul. And you figured at least one kid should stay near our parents—so you gave up your turn. So I could get established first."

"Tch, what are you talking about…. I just stayed because I like it here."

Min-ji sniffled and turned her head away. But the tips of her ears had gone red.

I ruffled her hair.

"So don't shrink yourself."

"…"

"You saw his reaction. Your big brother's done pretty well for himself."

I gave a little shrug.

"Wedding gifts? A house? Don't worry about any of it. Oppa will take care of everything."

"Oppa…."

"I might not be able to swing a Gangnam apartment, but I can at least get you a solid jeonse place in Seoul. You just show up with yourself—I'll handle the rest. Date with your head held high. If his family gives you any trouble, tell me. A bestselling author will write them a very long letter."

"Pfft."

Min-ji burst out laughing.

"Okay. I'll trust you, Author RottenWater."

"Good. Trust me. This is only the beginning."

The rims of Min-ji's eyes had gone red. She looked lighter—like someone who had finally set down a weight she'd been carrying alone for far too long.

I suddenly remembered dropping Jae-hun off earlier.

Hyeong-nim! Drive safely! I'll be waiting for the next chapter!

Judging by the genuine respect in his eyes, the odds of our family's standing becoming a problem for my little sister seemed vanishingly small.

And we weren't lacking anymore, either.

Something heavy and hot settled in my chest.

Guess I need to work even harder.

The reasons I had to succeed had never been clearer. The family that believed in me. The people who felt pride in the three syllables of my name.

If only to keep from disappointing them, I could not stop.

I climbed into the driver's seat of the S-Class, punched ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Seoul into the navigation, and pressed down on the accelerator with purpose.

The Seoul studio.

Coming back from that warm hometown visit, the air of reality hit differently. The gentle heat was gone, replaced by the cold, sharp smell of a battlefield.

"Hoo."

I brewed a cup of coffee and sank into thought.

My parents' reaction. Jae-hun's reaction.

The moment I said "web novel," they clearly didn't really get it.

If Jae-hun hadn't stepped in with those analogies, it would have been even worse. To my parents' generation, web novels were still a foreign culture. They understood that I was a writer making good money—but they couldn't quite feel how extraordinary the work itself was.

A thirst rose in me.

The desire to show my stories to more people. To a wider world.

Then I'll show them through the webtoon.

A web novel was text. You had to read it to know it. But a webtoon was image. You knew it the moment you saw it.

And I'm the webtoon artist too, so.

The quality of the images in my head, rendered through Muse—that went beyond mere visualization of a novel. It was a work of art in its own right.

Show them that, and my parents—and the rest of the world—would understand instantly what I was building.

And if even that isn't enough…?

Ambition chased ambition down a long chain.

If I keep going, screen adaptations become possible too, don't they? Drama. Film. Animation.

When the Bong Joon-ho comparison had come up earlier, something in my chest had fluttered strangely.

It wasn't an impossible dream. My stories, alive and moving on a screen, with the whole world going wild for them. Just imagining it sent a thrill through me.

Let's go. As far as this road takes us.

I clenched my fist.

Then the phone on my desk buzzed.

"Hey, hyung. I just got back to Seoul."

His voice was different from usual—strangely buoyant and yet serious, like he had something he needed to say.

"Something going on? You sound weird."

"Situation?"

"What reaction? My novel?"

He took a breath, then continued.

"Muse?"

Our company was still a brand-new corporation that barely even had a proper sign on the door. The registered address was a shared office space—how had they even found it?

"Huh…."

There was a wry laugh mixed into his voice.

I let out a short laugh.

"Must be awkward for him."

Reader attention was a double-edged sword. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠higher the expectations, the harder the fall. And right now the industry was already buzzing with rumors that some no-name startup had taken on the webtoon—so of course people were anxious.

He was asking for my call.

I thought for a moment.

The readers' drive. Pulling corporate registry documents. Calling management directly. That ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wasn't simple curiosity.

It's anxiety.

They loved my work so much they were terrified some random studio would take it and butcher the quality. Exhausted by an open-ended wait with no promised date. So they wanted to confirm it themselves.

In that case—

"I actually like it."

"It's attention. And it's blazing hot."

I turned on my monitor. Inside the folder sat the completed webtoon manuscripts—seven episodes already finished, every one of them overwhelming in quality.

If the adaptation were struggling, or if the quality were mediocre, this kind of attention would be poison. But I knew better than anyone: the moment these results hit the world, every worry would turn into praise.

"So the representative and you are just surprised—not actually worried, right?"

"Can't be helped. Leaving them to wait forever isn't polite."

I made the call.

The best way to dissolve anxiety was a clear promise.

"Let's put out an announcement."

"Yeah. The day chapter 150 drops, the webtoon launches with it."

"Doesn't matter. It's only a few days away anyway. Coordinate with Sirius and get them to prep the banners."

I said it with absolute confidence.

"These readers got so anxious about not knowing when the webtoon was coming that they took action themselves. We should give them a gift."

"The webtoon's already made. The quality is generational. Isn't that enough of a gift?"

Hyung laughed, a deep, rolling sound.

"Thanks."

I hung up.

My heart started pounding again—a different kind of heat from the warmth I'd felt back home. A fierce, electric thrill.

I set my hands on the keyboard, opened a browser window, and clicked into the latest chapter's author notes.

Author's Note.

The cursor blinked.

An invitation, addressed to my readers.

Enter.

I hit the publish button.

The die was cast.

I could already picture the faces of readers cheering on the other side of the screen. And as I imagined the day of chapter 150—when that cheering would turn into pure, speechless awe—I picked up my pen again.

"Let's show them."

In words, and in pictures.

Why I said they could look forward to it.

It was time to prove it to the world.

And at the same time—it was the path of repayment.