Prior Reconnaissance
SBA writer Kim I-na took a deep breath.
When they received a story like this, the first step was always to scout it out personally. Not everything written in submissions was true. Some people exaggerated to get on TV or ride the wave of publicity. And sometimes, what seemed unbelievable turned out to be something entirely different once they showed up.
With submissions coming from the general public, mishaps were inevitable. It would be easier to only take verified stories, but human affairs didn't work that neatly.
What if they trusted a submission blindly, brought the whole broadcast crew, and it turned out to be a lie? It would be a massive waste for all those people. And they couldn't even hold anyone accountable—legally impossible, and a waste of time besides.
That's why the writers did the preliminary checks themselves, verified the facts, and only then brought the crew to film. In that sense, Kim I-na hoped the self-proclaimed genius writer at Songi Media today would turn out to be real.
If it was fake, it'd be a bust—and that meant hunting for another story and pulling an all-nighter. Overtime was one of the things office workers hated most. And they didn't even get overtime pay. In this era, hardly any companies paid for it. Even a major broadcaster like SBA was the same.
Kim I-na stepped into Songi Media. The entrance was guarded. Seeing that made the story feel more legit. Asking someone to come to a specific company by name... it lacked the certainty of a home visit, but showing up at an office like this boosted the odds of truth.
"Where are you from?"
"From the Things Like This in the World department at SBA. We've already contacted Songi Media, right? Could you check?"
The guard glanced at Kim I-na's face, then went back to verify something. Moments later, he nodded.
"All clear. You can go in."
"Thank you."
Kim I-na bowed politely and entered. Her destination was the genre novels department on the fifth floor, where the kid from the story was supposedly waiting. Her heart pounded as she rode the elevator up.
A girl, they said... Could she really have written a novel like that? Kim I-na had looked up Sunlight Painter from the submission. It existed. She'd read it, and no way could a first-grader have written it.
The prose was clean, and it was actually fun. At an age when kids were still practicing handwriting and spelling, this fluid style? Unbelievable.
Ding!
The elevator arrived at the fifth floor. Kim I-na stepped out and looked around. First time here, so she didn't know the layout.
But finding it wasn't hard. The company wasn't some huge field. Compared to her own workplace, it was half the size at most.
She reached her destination quickly.
Knock knock!
[Come in!]
Kim I-na knocked, got permission, and entered without hesitation, pulling the door open. The office was nothing special—worse than her own company's space.
But you couldn't judge by first impressions! Kim I-na flashed her best professional smile.
"Hello. I'm writer Kim I-na from Things Like This in the World on SBA."
"Hi. I'm assistant manager Yoo Min-ah from Songi Media."
A young-looking woman greeted her. Kim I-na bowed again. No time to waste—she cut to the chase. Piles of work waited back at the office. No one covered for her on these trips. She hadn't dumped everything, but she still had plenty to do.
"I read the submission and came straight here. Where's the genius writer kid?"
"Oh, Sora? She should be finishing school and taking the bus soon..."
Yoo Min-ah checked her watch, estimating.
"Five to ten minutes, probably. Want some coffee while you wait?"
"Sure, I'd appreciate that."
Thanks to Yoo Min-ah's kindness, Kim I-na got a cup of instant coffee. In the jungle of modern city life, a moment's respite with coffee wasn't bad.
As they sipped and waited, the star of the submission finally arrived.
"I'm here."
The girl who opened the door was tiny. Kim I-na was short herself, but this kid was a whole head—maybe two—shorter. Yet the moment she saw the story's protagonist, Kim I-na couldn't help but be stunned!
So cuuuute!
She had the kind of adorable, pretty face that could steal scenes from any child actress—even if you slapped her cheeks, it'd be fine. And the twin tails? They amped up the cuteness even more.
Twin tails suited animation characters, not adult women in real life. Women's hair wasn't as voluminous as in anime.
But on a little kid? It doubled the charm. It was a hairstyle only children could pull off. If this weren't business, Kim I-na would've jumped up and pinched those cheeks mercilessly.
It was women's instinct. Seeing something cute triggered an explosion of maternal affection you couldn't hold back.
"Huh?"
The girl looked at Kim I-na, grasped the situation, and bowed.
"Hello. I'm Lee Sora, first-grader in elementary school. Author of the novel Sunlight Painter."
Huh?
Kim I-na caught on from Sora's words.
Working on Things Like This in the World, she'd met all kinds. At first, her people-reading skills were poor—maybe even bad.
But after years on the show, seeing tons of people, her judgment sharpened. Submitters weren't ordinary; they were eccentrics or crazies, fitting the show's name. Her eye for them grew naturally.
So Kim I-na sized up Lee Sora.
A first-grader speaking so clearly? Polite formal speech, perfect manners. It boosted the odds the submission was true. If it matched, this kid was smart and wise beyond belief for her age.
"H-hello? I'm the writer from Things Like This in the World. Are you Sora, the one who sent the submission?"
"Yes, that's me."
Sora nodded in agreement. Yoo Min-ah smiled beside her.
"Actually, I wrote and sent the submission."
"Oh, really?"
Kim I-na nodded and dove into verification. The key was whether Sora was smart enough to write novels. Fresh out of kindergarten, first grade.
Plus, Sora's looks were a bonus.
Who didn't love a cute, pretty kid? Universal appeal across ages and genders—one of humanity's core instincts.
Passed down from prehistoric times.
If adults didn't feel that pull toward children, humanity wouldn't have thrived. Newborns and kids were helpless in the wild, needing adult protection until maturity.
Without that instinct, kids would've been abandoned to nature. No kids, no future generations.
"So, Sora, could you write a little novel for me? Right here in front of me...?"
"Yes, of course."
Sora sat at the computer without hesitation.
Then she started typing. Kim I-na watched, eyes widening in shock.