The Fact That Preparations Were Complete
The announcement about the webtoon.
Its impact rivaled a nuclear detonation.
The moment the author's notice went up, the web novel community erupted into pure chaos.
The boards ignited in an instant.
The reason readers had been so desperate for webtoon news — even going so far as to call the management company — wasn't mere curiosity.
It was anxiety.
Even after a webtoon adaptation contract is signed, the actual launch usually takes a minimum of one year, sometimes more than two. In that long stretch, the original's popularity can cool off, or production delays can pile up until the whole thing collapses. Readers had seen it happen countless times.
On top of that, rumors had been circulating that a brand-new studio had taken the job. From the readers' perspective, quality was a concern — but so was the quiet plea that the project not get postponed into oblivion after multiple restarts.
And then this.
A release at Chapter 150.
It was something that defied common sense — no, something that should have been impossible.
Readers plunged into confusion.
Working the timeline backward produced no answer that made sense. To hit that pace, webtoon production would have had to begin the moment the author started writing. Even that wouldn't be enough. Factoring in storyboarding, line art, coloring, and editing, the physical time simply wasn't there.
The speculation kept flying. Worry outweighed anticipation; suspicion outran cheers.
Then a user who identified himself as a working webtoon producer stepped in and poured gasoline on the fire.
The content was exhaustive. Given the complexity of the webtoon production pipeline, the average manpower and hours per episode, and the minimum buffer of finished chapters required before launch, a brand-new studio guaranteeing quality and launching within this window was, physically, impossible.
Conclusion: Either it was already made (which makes no sense), or they abandoned quality (the more likely option). One of the two. Don't get your hopes too high.
The expert analysis only amplified the anxiety.
A realm beyond comprehension.
But the readers decided, for now, to wait.
It wasn't that far off. Only eighteen days. If the result turned out to be garbage, they could send the trucks and light the fires then — and it still wouldn't be too late.
The eye of the storm.
The community held its breath and began waiting for the promised Chapter 150.
Readers weren't the only ones shaken by the announcement.
Toonmix, the number-one webtoon company in Korea.
The atmosphere in their headquarters conference room was pure funeral.
"What… is this supposed to mean?"
The Team 1 lead of the webtoon business division stared at the notice on the monitor, unable to close his mouth.
Just a few days ago, he had rejected that very work. He could have clung on and found a way to keep it, but the moment he heard a new company had taken it, he decided not to bother and simply turned them down. After the deal fell through, he hadn't paid it much mind — under the quiet assumption that they would come crawling back.
They're the ones who need us, after all.
It was the pride — or arrogance — of being the industry leader. Novels desperate for webtoon adaptations were everywhere. Among them were plenty of IPs that could be called major. Losing one rookie author wasn't going to put a scratch on the company's revenue.
Then the situation started turning strange.
The news coming out of Sirius was staggering. Overwhelming. This wasn't just a successful title. A mega-hit that would rank among the greatest in web novel history was being born.
Only then did the panic set in.
We should have locked that down.
The fish that got away looked enormous. It actually was enormous.
So he deliberately leaked information.
I heard they handed it to some nobody studio.
I heard the quality is a disaster.
He quietly spread the rumors through industry contacts. The goal was simple: sour public opinion until the original author felt the pressure and came back to Toonmix with an outstretched hand. Then they would play the savior and lock in a contract on even more favorable terms.
And then—
Webtoon Launch at Chapter 150
The webtoon adaptation was suddenly finished?
The team lead let out a hollow laugh.
"Does that even make sense? How long has it been since the meeting?"
According to the rumors, Studio Nangan had only recently brought webtoon production staff on board. And they were already launching?
"Huh. So they really were producing it in-house the whole time?"
They had been robbed blind with their eyes wide open. While Toonmix had been testing the waters, the other side had already been sharpening the knife.
"Team Lead, what do we do? If this keeps going, our position gets pretty awkward."
At his subordinate's words, the team lead chewed his lip.
If that webtoon launched successfully?
Word would spread that Toonmix lacked the eye to catch a blockbuster. Management's reprimand would follow as surely as night followed day.
"What do we do."
His eyes glittered with venom.
"We're already in this deep. We go all the way."
"Sir?"
"Start shaping the narrative. At that speed, the quality is obvious — they got greedy and slapped it together. That kind of angle."
Reverse viral marketing.
"Drag the readers' expectations into the dirt. And when the webtoon actually drops, if there's even the slightest flaw — tear into it."
Manufacturing public opinion was a terrifying thing. If the quality was mediocre, they needed voices calling for the adaptation to be scrapped and restarted with a different company.
The team lead clenched his fist.
"Please…"
There was only one thing left he could do.
Pray that the quality of the webtoon dropping at Chapter 150 would be terrible.
A desperate prayer that it would be garbage.
Gangnam studio.
I took a sip of coffee as I watched the community reactions filling my monitor.
"Reactions are running hot."
Exactly as expected. Maybe even more intense than expected.
Impossible. Doubt. Worry.
Every negative word imaginable was circling my announcement post. But beneath it all, I could also feel the desperate prayer: Please, just let it turn out well.
The readers loved my work. That was why they couldn't stand the thought of it being ruined.
Of course, if the quality is bad, those prayers will flip into condemnation.
I let the corner of my mouth lift.
That wasn't going to happen. I had already confirmed it.
I pulled up the stockpiled manuscript for Chapter 150 of the novel.
Chapter 150. The King's Return (5).
The climax of Part One.
The scene where the protagonist, Kang Cheol-min, severs the head of the bastard who had betrayed him and driven him to death before his regression. The most desperate, most cathartic, most brutal moment of revenge completed.
I had been building toward this scene since Chapter 1.
Tap, tap.
Rhythm settled into the hands striking the keyboard.
One more pass here.
I revised the highlight scene of Chapter 150. I didn't stop at mere textual description.
— Look into my eyes. The eyes you killed.
The protagonist's line.
And the description that would follow.
I designed this section to lock perfectly into Episode 1 of the webtoon.
The opening shot of Webtoon Episode 1: the look in the protagonist's eyes as he dies, staring down his enemy.
The look in the protagonist's eyes in Novel Chapter 150 as he completes his revenge.
The moment readers hit that description while reading the novel, they would click over to Webtoon Episode 1 as if pulled by gravity. And the instant they met the protagonist's gaze rendered in overwhelming artwork—
Text and image would overlap in their minds and send a shiver through them.
This is what cross-media is.
The novel calling the webtoon, the webtoon deepening the novel — a virtuous cycle. I had insisted on the Chapter 150 launch specifically to set this device in place.
"Perfect."
I saved the revised manuscript.
Then my phone rang.
Representative Kang Suk-woo.
"Yes, Representative."
"Author! Have you seen the communities? It's a complete mess!"
Kang Suk-woo's voice trembled on the other end of the line — half worry, half anticipation.
"We're getting inquiries nonstop on our end too. Is the launch actually happening? Can you guarantee the quality…? Honestly, even Sirius is a little tense."
"Tense?"
"Yes. There's no precedent for this, so… even if it isn't a quality issue, if serialization delays start from the very beginning, it hits the platform's image. The assigned PD asked me carefully — is this really going to be fine?"
"Didn't we show them the work at the last meeting?"
"They don't seem able to believe that level of quality can be sustained all the way through."
I understood. For Sirius, this was a gamble too. If they pushed hard and the result came out at the level of a group project, even the platform's eye for talent would come under fire.
There could be no snags.
When it came to quieting anxiety, one proof was more effective than a hundred words.
"Representative."
"Yes?"
"I just sent you an email."
"An email?"
"Finished Webtoon Episodes 1 through 3. Please forward them to the Sirius contact right away."
"Ah… showing them the actual work should kill any remaining nerves on Sirius's side. Understood! I'll send it over immediately and get back to you!"
The call ended.
I leaned back in my chair and checked the clock.
How long will this take?
Time to look and be stunned. Time to hold a meeting. Time to decide.
Thirty minutes?
It could be faster.
I waited at my ease.
Tick, tick.
The second hand of the clock sounded unusually loud.
And exactly twenty-five minutes later—
Bzzzzzt—!
My phone vibrated violently.
Kang Suk-woo.
"Hello."
"Au— Author!!!"
A shout that nearly blew out my eardrum. I pulled the phone a little away from my ear.
"It's huge! No — it's massive! I just got a call directly from the Sirius division head…"
Kang Suk-woo was gasping for breath, unable to contain his excitement.
"The internal screening went completely wild! Standing ovation, total chaos!"
"Haha, is that so?"
"The division head said this isn't a webtoon — it's art! And then…"
Kang Suk-woo swallowed hard.
"They're overhauling the entire promotion plan."
"Overhauling?"
"Yes! Beyond the internal platform promotions already lined up… they're going to run external advertising as well."
"…External advertising?"
Even I was a little surprised.
External advertising meant banners on platforms other than Sirius, MyTube ads, sponsored social media campaigns — the kind of marketing where the money unit was different. Hundreds of millions of won could vanish without blinking.
Normally that option was reserved for exclusive platform titles that had already proven themselves — Season 2 or Season 3 of a mega-hit. And they were putting external ads on a brand-new webtoon that hadn't even launched yet, produced by an outside studio?
It was proof that Sirius had lost its mind.
"The division head said that at this quality, it could go toe-to-toe with Makao Page's flagship title, Everyone Levels Up! He wants to make it the face of our platform and promised full support!"
Kang Suk-woo's voice was thick with emotion.
"Author… I think we're about to cause some real trouble."
His trembling voice carried pure sincerity.
I let out a short laugh.
"Yeah. Let's cause some real trouble."
I hung up.
Something hot surged up in my chest.
It wasn't simply because I was about to make a lot of money.
It was the fact that my work, my imagination, my effort —
had finished preparing to step out into the world and be recognized.
The readers' worries?
Those didn't matter anymore.
They were about to see it for themselves.
What the real thing looked like when overwhelming quality created it.
Outside the window, Seoul's nightscape looked unusually bright tonight.