Chapter 78
Chapter 78
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 78
Chapter Title: Again, Writer
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Jo Jin-gu returned to his seat and muttered to himself with a determined look on his face.
When he signed the contract with Woo Ji-hyun, he had made a clear promise.
He would handle not only the business side but also copyright enforcement thoroughly.
And as someone selling content, copyright enforcement was an absolute necessity.
“Noise marketing could work too, but our scale’s still small, so we should start with what we can do.”
He knew Kakao Page was preparing various countermeasures against illegal copying.
But that process wouldn’t be easy.
There would always be people trying to breach security somehow.
“Still, things are looking good right now. What a great start. Heh heh!”
Since it was an exclusive deal, God of Martial Arts, Return couldn’t move to another platform for three months after completion, but in return, they would push it hard.
They had already demonstrated that.
That was why Jo Jin-gu wasn’t too worried about Kakao Page.
Instead, he turned his thoughts to how he would sell the sectional releases.
“Things are mostly sorted out, so it’s time to hit the sales trail again. Protect our writers while I’m at it.”
Bzzz! Bzzz!
Jo Jin-gu’s smartphone vibrated just as much as Woo Ji-hyun’s—no, even more.
Unlike Woo Ji-hyun, whose messages only came from friends, family, or fellow writers, Jo Jin-gu was the head of a proper business.
He straightened his posture amid the flood of messages pouring in from writers and industry contacts alike, then dove into work in earnest.
Meanwhile, the atmosphere at Linus Publishing was no different from Frontier Management.
No, it was even more electric.
Sales, which had naturally trended downward after completion, were now shooting straight through the roof alongside the ads.
And sprinkling in timely side stories had sent revenues surging.
“What a shame. We should’ve locked down his next work too.”
“That would’ve been tough. Deputy Jo brought in Writer Woo Ji-hyun.”
Newly promoted Deputy Ji Seung-guk smacked his lips as traffic continued to climb like a runaway locomotive.
If Linus Publishing had secured the next work as well, it would’ve been the perfect cherry on top.
“We just need to offer conditions that outweigh loyalty. Writers ultimately move for money in the end. Loyalty and personal ties have their limits—unless it’s blood relations.”
“You planning to go that far?”
Deputy Baek Woo-hyun, who had joined alongside Ji Seung-guk, glanced toward the president’s office.
The president he knew wasn’t the type to do that.
If he were, the next-work contract would already be in the bag.
“Well, can’t deny it. But some are saying we let him go on good terms, considering everything Deputy Jo did for us.”
“That could be. Still envious, though. What a fantastic launch.”
“Too soon to tell. The start’s solid, but a weak follow-up and this momentum vanishes. You and I have seen plenty of management firms launch big and crash.”
“Even with these results and Woo Ji-hyun’s name value, doesn’t seem like it’ll flop easily. Plus, his sectional performance is top-tier. All we’ve got right now is Nine Thousand Demon Gods and Blood Link. And next year, Nine Thousand Demon Gods goes too.”
Baek Woo-hyun figured Frontier Management, run by Jo Jin-gu, wouldn’t crumble easily.
Jo Jin-gu’s sales prowess was already proven over a decade.
And he had Woo Ji-hyun, the most famous writer out there right now.
Her results stayed consistently in the top ranks, and she wrote fast enough to be called a machine.
That made it hard for Baek Woo-hyun to view things negatively.
‘This work alone should carry them through the year.’
The more he thought about it, the more envious he felt.
If he had a writer like Woo Ji-hyun, he’d jump into this market himself.
‘But that’s not easy.’
Signing a writer of Woo Ji-hyun’s caliber was never simple.
It wasn’t just the price tag—there was no way she’d sign based purely on sentiment or loyalty.
Anyone unfamiliar with the industry might think otherwise, but Woo Ji-hyun was a seasoned veteran who’d been through it all.
Even if she wasn’t even thirty yet.
“Regrettable, but unavoidable. Unless we forget the contract expiration, we have no choice but to let him go.”
“With Deputy Jo looking after her, tough to hold out hope. I hear he’s got about ten writers on roster. That’s a manageable number to give personal attention to.”
“Exactly. Perfect size. Too many writers, and individual care gets tough. Of course, assuming they actually write.”
“You think he signed just anyone? One flop and he’s out on the street.”
Put himself in Jo Jin-gu’s shoes, and Baek Woo-hyun wouldn’t contract random writers either.
One failure and it was all over.
Especially as a family man—he’d pick only the best, most reliable talents.
“Fair point, but good writers are hard to come by. You know how it is—new outfits popping up everywhere, shortages of writers and veteran editors alike.”
“Yeah. That’s why the president’s so obsessive about writer retention. Can’t let them get poached. Even has us check for second pen names.”
“So don’t be jealous—focus on writer management. Get close to promising ones. Any with good potential, make them yours. For the future.”
“No worries there. We’ve got cases like Jo Jin-gu and Woo Ji-hyun to learn from.”
“One more thing: scout some free agents. Focus on writers hitting FA.”
Baek Woo-hyun nodded halfheartedly at Ji Seung-guk’s words.
Easy to say, but he knew damn well it wasn’t that simple.
No one lets go of promising talent easily.
And the battles ahead would likely boil down to sales firepower.
Unfortunately, Linus Publishing hadn’t yet shown the kind of appeal that could sway writers.
‘That’s why I’ve gotta shine. Do well here, and my value goes up.’
Loyalty to the company was hard for a salaryman to muster.
Without blood ties, it always felt like someone else’s outfit.
High turnover didn’t help.
Baek Woo-hyun had never planned to bust his ass just for Linus Publishing.
“Let’s fight on today.”
“Yes, sir.”
They wrapped up the chit-chat and returned to work.
But both had other thoughts swirling in their heads.
* * *
Linus Publishing wasn’t the only one shocked by Kakao Page’s ad blitz.
Q&D Management, which had its own ties to Woo Ji-hyun, couldn’t hide their surprise at the full main banner takeover.
They hadn’t expected Kakao Page to go this hard.
Especially using the writer herself as the ad model.
Q&D’s execs all stared at their smartphones with identical expressions.
“Woo Ji-hyun’s blown up big time.”
“Lucky break.”
“But luck is skill. No talent, no opportunity like this.”
Same-age peers Yeo Woo-jin and Kang Tae-jin exchanged grins and banter.
It was just too surreal to believe.
“True. Without those sales numbers, no way they’d tap her for this.”
“She was already a twin lead, now she’s the undisputed top. Kakao Page offered the model gig for that.”
“She’ll hold it through the ad run.”
“Looks that way to me too. And with a new release coming.”
Yeo Woo-jin swiped to the fantasy genre.
There was the main banner: Maestro on the Field with photos of Woo Ji-hyun and Lee Woo-hyung, and below it, the new title God of Martial Arts, Return.
At the end, the writer spotlight event caught the eye.
“She’s gonna rake it all in this month. It’s Ji-hyun ads everywhere.”
“Good stuff gets the push. Bad stuff? Ignored. Can’t be helped—one hit covers a hundred misses.”
“Jealous.”
“Same.”
Though they handled management and planning now, both had started as writers.
That was why they genuinely envied Woo Ji-hyun.
They could check real-time sales, making it easy to ballpark her earnings.
“But isn’t this overkill? We’re not strangers. Could’ve cut a human deal on one contract.”
Quiet Gong Hyun-jung finally spoke up.
After smoothing over the Rubin Media mess, he’d passed through Phil Media and recently joined Q&D as an experienced hire.
“If everyone thought like you, we’d be screwed.”
“Not even a little offended?”
“Doesn’t change facts. We can pitch, but she decides.”
“Did you?”
“Think we didn’t?”
Kang Tae-jin chuckled.
Linus Publishing’s president was probably hurting most, but honestly, Kang Tae-jin wasn’t far behind.
Jo Jin-gu might be the perfect partner, but Kang Tae-jin had watched over Woo Ji-hyun since she was twenty.
Deny it all he wanted, but yeah, it stung.
“Rejected anyway? Ruder than I thought.”
“She thought it through cold. Bluntly, we can’t print books like Linus or back her all-in like Frontier Management.”
“Still, one project together? If there’s any loyalty.”
Gong Hyun-jung grumbled, grinding his teeth.
Memories of failing to lure her at Rubin Media bubbled up.
What grated more was needing her still—for his own track record.
She’d been a promising rookie back then; now she was top-tier.
“Loyalty in this biz? Pros chase money. She’s not pulling shady moves. Honestly, I admire her sticking to her path quietly.”
“Me too. Earning big at that age, no partying, just grinding out words. Insane self-control compared to those flashy old-timers.”
“Exactly. Downright admirable. Most young ones blow it all once the cash rolls in.”
Kang Tae-jin saw her as a role model.
Gong Hyun-jung still looked sour.
“You’re siding with your little bro too hard.”
“Just facts. Frontier Management won’t last a thousand years. Our chance’ll come.”
“What if I snag the contract? Word is the next one’s still open.”
“Slim odds, but if you pull it off, 100% bonus.”
Kang Tae-jin laughed it off.
Would be great, but realistically? Near impossible.
Gong Hyun-jung, though, wore a strange expression, eyes gleaming with intent.