Chapter 65
Chapter 65
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 65
Chapter Title: Again, Writer
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No one knew when it might collapse, but at least when mentioning top-tier writers right now, Woo Ji-hyun was someone who absolutely had to be included.
That’s why Yeom Tae-seong thought they had to secure Woo Ji-hyun no matter what.
“From the publishing house’s perspective, sure.”
“Uh, what do you mean…?”
Yeom Tae-seong’s pupils shook.
From that one sentence, he instantly grasped what Jo Jin-gu was agonizing over.
“I’m in my late thirties now too. It’s about time to make a decision. Whether to take the challenge or just coast along.”
“We’re in the 100-year lifespan era, Section Chief. You’re too young to be talking like that.”
“I’ll be forty in a couple of days. And the president and I are only twelve years apart.”
“When you put it that way, yeah.”
Yeom Tae-seong found himself nodding without realizing it.
It wasn’t wrong when he heard it out loud.
On top of that, the current market situation was definitely a time of opportunity.
It was just as risky, though.
“That’s why I’m agonizing over it—this once-in-a-lifetime chance right in front of me.”
“Are you thinking of… going independent?”
“I’m considering it. The timing isn’t bad, right?”
“A lot of people are jumping in.”
The rental market had collapsed, and the ebook market had opened up.
They were now in the transitional phase to paid serialization.
The system hadn’t fully settled yet, but it wouldn’t take long.
That’s why they needed to stake their claim and solidify their ground before then.
“That’s why it’s risky, but also a real opportunity. Everyone knows it, so they’re all rushing in like mad.”
“Exactly.”
“But I have a family, so it’s not easy to decide lightly. It’d be great if it works out, but if it fails, it’s total ruin. The funny thing is, the older I get, the less I’ll even be able to think about this.”
“You can’t help but overthink it. If you were single, you’d just dive in, but that’s not the case.”
“What would you do, Deputy Yeom?”
The sudden question made Yeom Tae-seong flinch for a moment.
With his current tenure, he hadn’t even considered independence, so he couldn’t answer right away.
“Uh…”
“You haven’t thought about it, huh?”
“Yeah, I’m not seasoned enough for that yet. But if I were in your shoes, Section Chief, I’d give it a shot. High risk, high return, but if you prepare properly, it’s worth trying. Of course, the key is the writers. You can start small with just a couple of staff, but without writers, you can’t even attempt it.”
“That’s exactly what I think.”
Jo Jin-gu smiled faintly.
He shared the same thoughts as Yeom Tae-seong.
Even if he went independent, he didn’t plan to go big from the start.
There was no need to take on massive risk right away.
But writers were absolutely essential.
No—reliable people were absolutely necessary.
“Huh? Wait…”
At that moment, Yeom Tae-seong’s pupils shook again.
A certain suspicion flashed through his mind like lightning.
“Why the sudden reaction?”
“Could it be… you deliberately didn’t contract his next work…”
Yeom Tae-seong trailed off.
It overlapped with the situation when switching from Barun Publishing to Linus Publishing.
“For the record, I didn’t coax him into it. I haven’t even brought it up yet. He hasn’t signed with Linus Publishing for his next work because Munpia started paid serialization too, so he’s considering them as well.”
“Makes sense. Kakao Page is building recognition fast, but his core readers are on Munpia. Still, they haven’t had standout results yet, right? There’s a lot of talk about their settlement practices too.”
“It’s the same everywhere. None of the platforms have fully established themselves yet. But that’s what creates the opportunity.”
“In that sense, it’s impressive. Feels like he prepared for this in advance.”
There had been a time when Linus Publishing heated up over Woo Ji-hyun’s serialization split.
It was truly the hot topic of the moment.
Now it was seen as foresight.
But Yeom Tae-seong still found it amazing.
“In that sense, what do you think? About joining me?”
“Pardon?”
“No joke—I’m serious. Like you said, Deputy Yeom, if you’re going to start a business, shouldn’t you do it with someone reliable and capable?”
“Uh…”
Yeom Tae-seong trailed off for a moment.
The unexpected offer had left him speechless.
“Of course, I’m not asking for an answer right now. It’s definitely a gamble for you too. Linus Publishing is more stable than a new startup. So, take your time to think it over and give me your answer.”
“…Understood. But, Section Chief.”
“Yeah?”
“Will the pay be higher?”
Jo Jin-gu couldn’t help but chuckle at the blunt question about salary.
It was truly an unexpected response.
“Hazard pay goes without saying, right?”
“Mmm. I’ll think about it seriously.”
“There’s still time.”
“Yes, sir!”
Jo Jin-gu tried not to pressure Yeom Tae-seong.
He didn’t want to make him feel burdened.
Besides, nothing was set in stone yet.
‘The final puzzle piece is still missing.’
Life was, in a way, a series of adventures.
That’s why some called it a gamble.
But if you maximized your odds, even a gamble was a worthwhile game.
‘I just need that one person to anchor it and serve as the flagship.’
One person came to mind in Jo Jin-gu’s head.
* * *
Woo Ji-hyun’s daily routine was almost the same.
He woke up early in the morning, ate breakfast, had a cup of tea, and started working.
After lunch, he took a short nap and then worked in the afternoon.
At 6 p.m.—dinnertime—he finished work, exercised, and went to bed.
It might seem like a hamster wheel routine, but Woo Ji-hyun didn’t find it boring.
“Steady, hardworking, living well for a long time—that’s true happiness. Doing what you love.”
In his past life, Woo Ji-hyun had wandered through various jobs.
That’s why this routine felt so precious to him now.
He was doing what he loved, making money, and living well.
Especially when he saw the money piling up in his bank account or got a deposit notification, Woo Ji-hyun was overjoyed.
“Sales aren’t dropping much either.”
Maestro on the Field, serializing on Kakao Page, was sailing smoothly.
It was a bit embarrassing to call it neck-and-neck, but that was because Solar Sculptor was overwhelmingly strong—not because Maestro on the Field was weak.
On top of that, this performance was beyond Woo Ji-hyun’s expectations.
He had agonized over the timing, so it held strong personal challenge for him as a novel.
“Good thing the results are great. If it had flopped again, I’d have been roasted alive.”
The synergy with Pitch was even sparking a sports genre revival, which lifted Woo Ji-hyun’s spirits.
He’d aimed to ride the trend and ended up with a pioneer image too, making every day fulfilling.
But now it was time to prepare his next work.
He wrote fast, so the finale was approaching quickly.
“Final volume at 20 books.”
In typical paid serialization, reaching 20 volumes wasn’t easy.
You had to fit exposition, rising action, climax, and resolution into 5,000 characters, weaving in fun and meaning, so the pace had to be brisk.
But Kakao Page’s exclusive serialization was different.
Readers tolerated a looser pace.
“Well, it’s free, so that’s why. Still, can’t ignore the advantage.”
In paid serialization, they’d complain about slow pacing, chit-chat, unnecessary descriptions and dialogue.
But in exclusive serialization, such comments were fewer.
Of course, he didn’t pay much attention even when they came, but he couldn’t totally ignore them.
Some had valid points.
“Soon my novel will be holy ground.”
Woo Ji-hyun grinned as he skimmed the comments.
Assuming soccer players’ futures didn’t change drastically, the transfer market would unfold as he knew.
And readers would be shocked.
Beyond foresight—prophecy.
Plus, Woo Ji-hyun’s prophecies weren’t limited to players.
“I noted down the coaches too. It’s just a novel now, but later it’ll be holy ground. Heh heh heh!”
Woo Ji-hyun had gotten into overseas soccer late but was as passionate as anyone.
Not quite a fanatic, though.
No favorite club, but still deeply interested in overseas soccer.
Thanks to that, he remembered quite a bit.
“With this level of buzz, it’ll stay relevant even after it ends, right?”
Novels fundamentally needed to be fun.
That was the foundation of genre fiction.
The market had grown this big on entertainment alone.
Topping it off with buzz was even better.
“Gotta go watch a live match sometime. Personally, I really want to visit England and Spain.”
Woo Ji-hyun had dreams.
Succeeding as a writer was first; living without envy was second.
It used to be just one, but humans were greedy creatures—dreams multiplied over time.
The funny thing was, the more dreams grew, the more drive they gave him to work harder.
“I’ve already decided on the next work. The issue is the affiliation.”
Woo Ji-hyun stroked his chin.
He’d settled on the next work long ago.
No need to agonize, really.
He’d debated it alongside Maestro on the Field.
“Hmm.”
The problem was where to sell that next work.
Woo Ji-hyun was torn between doing one more with Linus Publishing or going to Munpia.
Kakao Page and Naver were biggest now, but Munpia would soon threaten them both.
Its momentum wouldn’t last forever, though.
“In my current position, they’re about equal. Ah, Naver might be tough. No serialization slots, and their style doesn’t match mine.”
Woo Ji-hyun muttered.
But if he really wanted, he could manage.
He could tailor to Naver’s preferences and style.
The issue was, he didn’t need to go that far.
“No guarantee it’d perform well even if I did.”
Writers needed to show versatility.
But crucially, it had to stay entertaining.
Passing platform standards by catering to tastes didn’t ensure success.
Another downside: you could lose your identity in the process.
“Platforms and companies don’t care about writers in a slump. It’s not something others can fix anyway.”
Woo Ji-hyun had seen too many talented writers—especially debut hits—vanish without a trace.
That’s why he always stayed vigilant to not lose himself.
Bzzz!
“Hm?”
Lost in thought, his smartphone vibrated.
A familiar name appeared on the screen.