Chapter 30
Chapter 30
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 30
Chapter Title: Why Do We Keep Getting Tangled?
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This is a work of fiction and has no relation to any real names, events, organizations, place names, people, etc.
Chapter 12
Woo Ji-hyun scowled as he glanced around.
If he had a smartphone, he could've pulled up a map app to find the place, but all he had was a feature phone, so he had no choice but to go on foot.
His face scrunched up as he scanned the area.
“It’s around here somewhere. Damn, should I ask someone?”
Bucheon Station was a place he frequented, but unfortunately, it felt a bit unfamiliar right now.
The Bucheon Station etched clearly in his memory was the one he'd seen at forty years old.
The overall layout was the same, but the details had changed so much that even Woo Ji-hyun, with his good sense of direction, couldn't help getting a little lost.
“Finally found it.”
After asking passersby for directions, Woo Ji-hyun let out a quiet sigh as he pushed open the door to the barbecue joint.
“Hey. About time you showed up.”
“Why'd you pick such an out-of-the-way spot?”
“Woo-jin hyung said the meat here's killer. Said it's a new favorite spot.”
“Suits the hyungs' tastes, that's for sure.”
Woo Ji-hyun chuckled as he looked around the old-school barbecue place that reeked of age.
It had that exact street stall vibe his hyungs loved.
Plus, it was still early, so there weren't many customers.
“What do you mean 'suits the hyungs' tastes'?”
“It's got that pocha vibe. The chairs, the tables—all of it.”
“What's wrong with that?”
“I like it too, but it's a bit of a letdown. Even if it's winter break, we're near a college town.”
Woo Ji-hyun shrugged.
He'd phrased it diplomatically, but his meaning was clear.
His same-age friend Ye Seong-pil nodded in agreement.
“Exactly. Taste matters, but this is straight-up ajusshi energy.”
“You little punks!”
Yeo Woo-jin glared at the two, who were griping despite him bringing them to his prized spot.
But neither Woo Ji-hyun nor Ye Seong-pil flinched at his fiery glare.
It wasn't their first rodeo.
“Come on, give credit where it's due. And hyung, you said we'd keep the first round light anyway. Let's hit the bustling district for round two. Somewhere clean and lively.”
“I'm in. Hyung's still in his prime—no need to stick to dives like this.”
“Couldn't agree more.”
“Heh heh heh.”
Yeo Woo-jin let out a defeated laugh at their one-two punch, like they were in cahoots playing go-stop.
He regretted calling these two, wondering what glory he thought he'd get out of it.
“Alright, enough teasing.”
“Let's set the table. What'd you order?”
“Already did. Basics are coming soon. Booze is Chamisul, obviously.”
“I prefer Cheoeumcheoreom.”
Before Yeo Woo-jin could get more annoyed, Woo Ji-hyun quickly laid out the utensils.
Ye Seong-pil poured the water.
“No choice—we're stuck with it.”
“I guess.”
“Oh, add another set. The one who called said someone's joining.”
“Who's coming?”
Having heard nothing about it, Woo Ji-hyun shot Ye Seong-pil a curious look.
But Ye Seong-pil just shrugged, clueless himself.
“No idea. Hyung said one more's coming.”
“I called a dongsaeng I know. Kept nagging me to grab a drink together.”
“Someone we know?”
Woo Ji-hyun and Ye Seong-pil turned to Yeo Woo-jin.
He furrowed his brow and tilted his head.
“You might. Ah, you've probably seen his face.”
“Hyung's flustered. Dialect's slipping out.”
“Probably from a publisher.”
“My guess too.”
No sooner had Yeo Woo-jin answered than Ye Seong-pil and Woo Ji-hyun started theorizing.
But with their limited networks, it wasn't easy to narrow down.
“Hm?”
Then a flash of insight hit Woo Ji-hyun.
It was like all the puzzle pieces clicked, bringing one name to mind.
“What? Got a hunch?”
“Could it be... someone from Rubin Media...”
“Oh dear, sorry I'm a bit late. Thought I left early, but coming from Seoul took longer than expected.”
The door to the quiet barbecue joint swung open, and in walked a massive man.
Yeo Woo-jin and Ye Seong-pil were no small fries themselves, but this guy was even bigger.
Exaggerating a bit, he looked twice Woo Ji-hyun's size.
‘Knew it...’
Woo Ji-hyun let out a wry chuckle as the conversation cut off with the man's entrance.
His bad premonition hadn't failed him—the exact person he'd suspected showed up.
“You're here.”
“Hello.”
While Woo Ji-hyun inwardly clicked his tongue at Gong Hyun-jung's arrival, Yeo Woo-jin just waved lazily from his seat, and Ye Seong-pil stood to bow politely.
Woo Ji-hyun managed a stiff greeting, resigned.
“Haha. Nice to see you, Writer Ye Seong-pil. And Writer Woo Ji-hyun.”
Gong Hyun-jung greeted Ye Seong-pil casually—they'd stuck it out till the end at a previous gathering—but his eyes lit up at Woo Ji-hyun.
No wonder Woo Ji-hyun had ignored his calls; his expression was visibly frozen.
“Ah, yeah.”
“Did you switch phones? I tried calling a few times, but no answer.”
“Straight to business? Sit and have a drink first.”
“Yes, sir.”
Gong Hyun-jung, who'd charged right at the awkward Woo Ji-hyun, sheepishly grinned at Yeo Woo-jin's rebuke and took a seat.
But his gaze stayed glued to Woo Ji-hyun.
“This guy's been hounding me to set something up. Figured it wouldn't hurt you either, so here we are. He's buying anyway.”
“Of course. Eat up, drink up. Got the company card today.”
“For the record, no contract.”
“Why not? Hyung, you're free for your next one too, right?”
Sensing the awkward vibe, Gong Hyun-jung flashed a cheeky grin.
Woo Ji-hyun was a prized catch, but Yeo Woo-jin—the rare S-Rank writer—was the real jackpot for any publisher boss.
“I handle my own deals.”
“Oh come on. How much booze do I gotta buy?”
“Not enough with your level.”
“Hey, the drinks I've covered so far aren't cheap...”
Gong Hyun-jung looked dumbfounded.
But Yeo Woo-jin was unapologetic.
By freeloading standards, Gong Hyun-jung didn't even crack the top five.
“You're the side dish here.”
“Whatever, one of these days. It's 'cause I can't write anymore. You'll get used to it.”
“Makes me feel bad.”
“Don't. I'm glad you're killing it. Honestly, think you're a bit nuts. How do you churn out books like a printing press?”
While the hyungs bantered, Ye Seong-pil, who'd been silently grilling, made a face like he'd seen a ghost.
Woo Ji-hyun was hitting a pace he couldn't even fathom.
And he wasn't the only shocked one.
Most writers in the biz were stunned by Woo Ji-hyun's insane output.
“Just write like your life depends on it. Nothing's impossible in Korea. Shut up, sit down, and crank it out like a madman—anyone can do it like me.”
“...If it were that easy, everyone would be you. That's like a perfect SAT scorer saying, 'I just studied the textbook.'”
Ye Seong-pil let out a hollow laugh.
Easy to say, but hell in practice—he knew that well.
Which made Woo Ji-hyun all the more admirable.
In a dying market where even non-S-Rank writers saw deals tanking, Woo Ji-hyun was the sole exception with rising value.
“You can do it too.”
“Nah, I can't. Already gave up.”
“Quit the nonsense. You can. Plus, you've got more talent.”
“Debut year doesn't measure talent anymore. It's about enduring or bailing.”
Ye Seong-pil shook his head and flipped the perfectly cooked pork ribs.
White smoke billowed, carrying the sweet, nutty glaze into their noses.
“You'll endure.”
“Damn right. No other path for me. It's my calling.”
“Contract?”
“One left with Phil Media. Stocked up on three before enlistment, just in case.”
Ye Seong-pil's face darkened.
One remaining was a blessing, but something else soured it.
“Pre-enlistment terms should still be decent now, right?”
“Nah, worse. No full rights either.”
“Hmm.”
“Not totally bad. Just not big money.”
Ye Seong-pil muttered bitterly, picking up scissors.
He sliced the ribs into perfect bites.
“Gimme. I'll grill.”
“Nah. Meat's for the grill master.”
“I went to culinary high.”
“Got certs?”
“...No.”
Woo Ji-hyun's voice shrank.
Specialized high school, sure, but no certifications.
He'd gotten them after community college in his past life.
“Alright, cheers. Meat's ready.”
“Feels like we've been talking about us too much.”
“Not us—you. You've been on contracts nonstop.”
“Hahaha!”
Gong Hyun-jung laughed awkwardly at Yeo Woo-jin's bullseye.
Yet he boldly raised his glass.
Internally, he thought: ‘Not easy, as expected.’
‘Best to ink both if possible.’
Woo Ji-hyun was a ticking time bomb of potential; Yeo Woo-jin was a finished product with name value.
Gong Hyun-jung aimed for a twofer.
“Atmosphere's kinda stiff, huh.”
“Sounds like it's my fault.”
“Isn't it?”
Yeo Woo-jin downed his shot post-cheers, looking sheepish.
He'd set it up but hadn't properly warned Woo Ji-hyun—felt a twinge of guilt.
Still, he thought sticking solely to Barun Publishing wasn't ideal.
Not exclusive, yet it felt that way—bad for the writer.
“To that end, let me pour a round! Here you go.”
“Cheeky bastard.”
Gong Hyun-jung smiled his signature grin, pouring for Yeo Woo-jin first, then Ye Seong-pil, Woo Ji-hyun.
His eyes burned hot on Woo Ji-hyun.
Intense enough to make anyone squirm.
“Been dying to meet you properly, Writer Woo Ji-hyun.”
“Ah, yeah.”
“Did I mess up somehow last time?”
“Nope. Nothing.”
Woo Ji-hyun swallowed the rest.
It hadn't happened yet.
But having glimpsed the man's underbelly once, he had zero interest in working together.
One betrayal was enough.
“But why dodge my calls?”
“Don't pick up unknown numbers. Phone's off during work.”
Gong Hyun-jung asked politely, all business.
Had to pinpoint the issue to fix it.
But Woo Ji-hyun drew a hard line, like an iron fortress.
‘Tough nut.’
Yeo Woo-jin watched with amusement.
He could set the table, but closing the deal was on Gong Hyun-jung.
And Woo Ji-hyun didn't look like an easy mark.