Chapter 117
Chapter 117
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 117
Chapter Title: Once Again, Writer
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Chapter 42 Exploded!
Woo Ji-hyun looked intrigued.
Frontier Management already had an office in Seoul, so he’d been mulling it over.
Unlike his early twenties, his friends were starting to leave Incheon one by one.
“If it’s a jeonse, it might be doable.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to scout buildings from Seoul? A guy’s gotta swim in the big pond!”
“Even buying a house is out of reach, let alone a building.”
Woo Ji-hyun let out a hollow laugh.
It still felt like too grand a dream.
Of course, becoming a landlord was one of his ultimate goals.
As the saying went, above the Creator was the landlord.
‘Was this when that phrase came up? It’s been so long, my memory’s fuzzy.’
With the butterfly effect subtly altering the future, Woo Ji-hyun couldn’t be certain.
But most young people probably thought along the same lines.
‘Living the life of a rich bum, playing all day with money to spare—that’s the dream.’
Just imagining it lifted his spirits, and Woo Ji-hyun grinned.
Elder tilted his head at the sudden smile.
“What’s up? What’re you thinking that’s got you grinning like that?”
“I pictured the life of a rich bum for a sec.”
“Kuh! That’s the best life. Lounging around, money overflowing. You’ve got the same dream as me. My bro, through and through.”
“Why the sudden ‘bro’ talk? Did you lay down another beat?”
Elder didn’t answer.
He just smiled faintly.
As if the smile held all the answers.
“Sorry, but no can do for a while. I’ve been swamped helping with your girlfriend’s lyrics—my own stuff’s piling up. Gotta grind hard for the next bit.”
“You always have a stockpile, don’t you? Aren’t you one of the few writers without deadlines?”
“Prepping a new work. And overseas expansion means a ton of extra stuff to handle. My sections—well, the martial arts novel—is hitting shelves in Taiwan. Bookstore edition, unlike Korea.”
“Whoa. You said it was doing well, but damn, it really is. Getting translated left and right?”
Elder looked genuinely surprised.
At the same time, it made perfect sense.
He knew how seriously and passionately Woo Ji-hyun wrote, so it didn’t come off as bragging—he accepted it right away.
“Not that big a deal. Just gaining some recognition. The webtoon’s settled in, at least. But it’s not at the level of my Korea earnings yet.”
“Taiwan’s population is about half of ours, right? That explains it. But if it pops off there, won’t it work in other Chinese-speaking areas? China’s the martial arts homeland, after all.”
“Management’s hopeful, but I’m skeptical. Some really talented writers tried breaking into China with translations, but they didn’t crush it.”
Woo Ji-hyun muttered bitterly, recalling *Bodyguard Martial God*, which he’d personally loved.
It hadn’t even hit all of China—just one province—and it left him regretting the missed potential.
“You’ll be different. You’re on a roll. I heard Taiwan’s blowing up—views skyrocketing like crazy.”
“It’s kinda fresh, yeah. For 2015. It really kicked off in 2014. Modern raid stuff mixed with martial arts was rare back then.”
“You talk like it’s ancient history.”
“Yeah, Bini’s stage is starting.”
Woo Ji-hyun turned to the TV.
The MCs had just finished intros, zooming in on Bini’s stage.
Soon, a medium-tempo ballad intro flowed out softly.
“Man, the melody’s still so polished, even on repeat.”
“Agreed.”
“Huh? You admitting it straight up? That’s new.”
“Good is good. Bad is bad—that’s how it should be.”
“Ugh!”
Elder clutched his head, remembering how Woo Ji-hyun had shot down his track just days ago.
He didn’t always produce hits himself.
“Pro through and through. First solo debut stage, and she’s rock solid.”
“Can’t be helped. She does solo spots at concerts all the time. Plus, with all her experience, shaking now would be weirder.”
“No mistakes, then.”
“Who knows. Mistakes come from letting your guard down. Never relax till you’re off stage.”
Even as his girlfriend’s boyfriend, Elder’s eyes were sharp.
He was watching her as the producer of this title track.
“But they’re doing the title track first?”
“Double title for this album. Label pushed for two.”
“Oh, tons of good tracks, huh?”
“Dunno. I don’t think so.”
No sooner had Elder spoken than Bini’s second song began.
Woo Ji-hyun’s expression slowly hardened as he watched.
“Hmm?”
“Reaction’s off, isn’t it?”
Live broadcast meant real-time crowd feedback.
Bini’s fans were cheering wildly, sure, but anyone could see it was nothing like the first song.
“Why pick this? It’s not bad, but title track material? Nah.”
“Idol vibes. Hottest trend right now.”
“Fair. Experts don’t always nail it. If they did, we’d call ‘em Midas touch.”
“How’s it feel? Girl idol singing your lyrics. Especially with that track topping charts right now.”
“Hoo?”
Elder grandly shoved his smartphone forward.
On Pineapple—one of Korea’s biggest music sites—Bini’s name sat proudly at number one.
“Other sites are similar. Top three at worst. Dropped at midnight, so I bet it sweeps all five majors by tomorrow.”
“Lucky break.”
“That’s it? Your lyrics are number one!”
“No big thrill. She sang it, you produced. All I did was tweak ‘em quick, check, and hand off.”
Elder stared blankly.
Cool was one thing—this was ice cold.
He’d expected at least some hype, but Woo Ji-hyun showed zero.
“How does a guy this oblivious churn out such gut-wrenching lyrics? Spanning twenties, thirties, forties…”
“All thanks to this body’s talent.”
“Annoying. Get out! I wanna be alone.”
“No way. Came all this way—can’t leave empty-handed. You’re broke as hell right now.”
Woo Ji-hyun said, patting his stomach.
He was getting hungry, craving something good.
But Elder dodged his gaze firmly.
“Leave me alone.”
“Don’t be petty. Who got your girl her breakout?”
“Urgh!”
“And don’t I perform better in top shape? Good for you too.”
Elder’s pupils shook.
Every word hit home, rattling him.
“Sly bastard…!”
“So order food already. Let’s eat and talk.”
He was firmly in the weak position, so Elder swallowed tears and unlocked his phone.
To fire up the delivery app.
“What’ll it be?”
“Expensive and tasty. You’ve got cash—let’s splurge. Whiskey cola?”
“…Soju it is.”
He wanted to yell and kick him out, but sadly, he couldn’t.
So Elder offered a compromise, looking pitiful.
Bini unlocked her phone the moment she hopped in the car after her solo debut stage.
Articles were one thing—she wanted comments.
The truest reactions came from the public’s words.
“Hee hee hee!”
The first title track—Elder’s production, Woo Ji-hyun’s lyrics, *The Start of Goodbye*—was pure praise.
Men and women alike, all resonating hard. It warmed her heart.
She’d gasped at Woo Ji-hyun’s talent from verse one, relating deeply herself.
‘One thing I don’t get: Oppa barely dates. How does he write this? No way it’s just imagination or novels. Even tons of indirect experience doesn’t explain it.’
The lyrics hit too real—impossible not to feel them.
Verse one: her sensing the breakup from him.
Verse two: her letting go alone.
He wouldn’t know, but it painted a woman slowly releasing her love.
And the problem? It was *too* real.
“What’re you reading?”
“Articles on the stage. Promo spam everywhere.”
“No surprise from a Big 3 agency.”
Her manager shrugged while driving.
Pride dripped from his voice.
In entertainment, agency tier was everything.
“But why this title track?”
“Uh…”
The manager flinched.
He’d felt the crowd’s split reactions crystal clear.
So he couldn’t respond.
“I told you, right? *The Start of Goodbye* alone would kill it. Push that hard. What’d you say then, Oppa?”
“The team leader made me…”
“Nuh-uh. I remember you saying you liked this one more.”
“Bini, office life is…”
Sweat poured down the driving manager’s face.
Summer was ages away.
He avoided the rearview like the plague.
“You saw it too. The live reaction.”
“…Yeah.”
“How do we handle interviews now? We know, you know, fans know—and you’re still pushing the second title, *Promise*?”
“I was gonna call the team leader right when we get back. Plenty of time to tweak the script.”
“Phew. Handle it quick, Oppa.”
Bini sighed softly at his deflated look.
In a way, the manager had just followed orders—no real fault.
As he said, office life bent to the boss’s will, especially for grunts.
“Got it! Don’t worry!”
“Good thing *The Start of Goodbye* is killing it like we hoped.”
“By midnight, it’ll own all five sites. Perfect sweep might be tough, though.”
“Topping charts now is huge. And my first solo album? This is massive.”
Bini spoke without greed.
Top 10 was her goal.
So she was more than satisfied—thrilled.