Genius
"Huuuuh..."
Kim Sung-ho was smoking on the company rooftop.
The rooftop was a space for smokers. Some people were too lazy to go all the way down to the first floor, and back in the 2000s, there were no dedicated smoking rooms anyway. People didn't think much about smoking at the time. That was why folks smoked at PC bangs while gaming.
Life...
Kim Sung-ho had basically been shoved into the genre novel team. The higher-ups claimed that times were changing and genre novels were the new meta. But to him, it looked like they were just pushing him out as a bullet sponge. If he got results, great; if not, no big loss. Genre novels had definitely gained popularity compared to before. But Songi Media was different.
Songi Media specialized in workbooks and general literary novels, not genre fiction. They hadn't even had a genre novel department to begin with.
Kim Sung-ho finished his cigarette, glancing around nervously, then headed back down.
Today was the day the author Yoo Min-ah had told him about was coming.
He'd read it himself, and it was pretty engaging—even for a guy turning forty in a couple of days. At his age, genre novels felt pretty distant.
Somehow, they'd made contact, and he was grateful for that. Daldongne was a popular site for aspiring writers, so a novel topping the charts there might have real potential. Hitting number one proved it resonated with readers, at least.
Of course, it didn't guarantee success. If topping site rankings always meant bestseller sales, everyone would be rich.
Back at the department, Kim Sung-ho opened the door.
"Huh?"
A little girl was standing there.
"Min-ah, is this your niece?"
"Pardon?"
"Didn't you say the author was coming today? Send her home before they arrive. Don't want any distractions."
Yoo Min-ah responded to Kim Sung-ho's words.
"Team leader! This kid is the author I told you about!"
Yoo Min-ah grabbed the little girl's shoulder and proudly presented her to Kim Sung-ho. The girl stood expressionless, whatever she was thinking. Frowning at the sight, Kim Sung-ho said,
"Quit messing around."
No matter how he looked at it, this screamed Yoo Min-ah's prank. The idea that a child this young wrote that novel? Kim Sung-ho's waist was taller than her, and she looked like a first-grader... no, kindergarten age. The odds of her writing Sunlight Painter were lower than him getting struck by lightning tomorrow.
"It's true."
"How old are you...?"
"Eight. She started first grade this year. Right, Sora?"
"Yes. I enrolled at Byeolbit Elementary School last week."
"Haa..."
Kim Sung-ho pressed a hand to his forehead with a sigh. His subordinate Yoo Min-ah must have lost it from stress. A first-grader writing a novel? Even a stray dog would laugh.
First-graders learned basic arithmetic and dictation. A kid that age couldn't write something like Sunlight Painter. They were barely past learning the alphabet at home.
Seeing his expression, Lee Sora felt she had to do something.
Fair enough. Even she, who used to be a grown man, wouldn't believe this tiny version of herself wrote a novel. No one would think a kid fresh into elementary school could craft a readable fantasy story.
"It's really my novel. If you don't believe me, I can write it right here for you to see."
"What?"
"Let me use that computer. I'll write Sunlight Painter in front of you."
Lee Sora pointed at Kim Sung-ho's computer.
Her confident demeanor made Kim Sung-ho nod unconsciously. What if it was true? Humans varied wildly in ability.
Not talking genetics or superiority, but while some lived like beasts without proper nutrition and turned out low-functioning, others stunned the world with their intellect.
Some memorized a whole encyclopedia cover to cover; others couldn't handle a single page.
Of course, 99.99% couldn't. Only true geniuses could. But their existence showed how vast the range of human intelligence was.
Was she a girl? Or just a kid?
Lee Sora handled the computer deftly in front of Kim Sung-ho and Yoo Min-ah. A first-grader's typing speed was insanely fast—like someone who'd gamed for decades.
"Heh..."
She logged into the site first, showing her account. It was indeed the one posting Sunlight Painter. But accounts could be borrowed, so ghostwriting was common. She had to write live.
But as Lee Sora hit the write button and started typing, Kim Sung-ho looked like a priest witnessing a god's descent.
How... how could a child this young write like that?
Her hands were merciless, pouring out her mind's contents without pause. No hesitation in crafting the novel.
It took thirty minutes, but Kim Sung-ho and Yoo Min-ah watched without blinking.
"Th-this..."
It was Yoo Min-ah's first time seeing Lee Sora write. Her doubts from the cafe chats were confirmed as fact. Kim Sung-ho felt the same.
"You're really a first-grader...?"
He stared at her like she was a monster.
"Yes. It's true."
Of course, it was a lie. Mentally, Lee Sora was an adult, not an elementary kid.
But physically, she was first-grade age. Claiming to be a thirty-something man now? No one would buy it. In this kid's body? They'd probably ship her to a psych ward.
"Can't be..."
Seeing her write it live left no room for doubt. The Sunlight Painter author Yoo Min-ah brought was a real genius.
*Slurp slurp-!*
I sat in the chair, sucking on chocolate milk.
For some reason, since turning into a girl, I'd craved sweets more.
As a guy, I'd barely touched stuff like chocolate. But as a little girl, my tastes had shifted. Probably hormones messing with me.
Tastes don't change easily.
There I was, alone in what felt like a meeting room. The balding guy destined for more hair loss and Yoo Min-ah, who'd given me money, were probably hashing things out. Figuring out the contract would be tricky. If I were an adult, we'd sign on the spot. But I was eight. Needed a legal guardian's approval.
Made sense. Minors couldn't sign contracts alone legally.
So I'd looked into it a bit.
Newbie authors got 5-7% royalties.
For an 8,000-won book, that was 400-560 won per sale. Seemed skimpy. The publisher pocketed the rest, right?
But reading online explanations made it clearer. Publishers didn't keep it all.
Half went to bookstores, half to the publisher. Then costs for printing, storage—can't just dump books on the street.
Warehouse fees, and more. Money pits everywhere. No wonder searches showed publishing wasn't lucrative.
One hit had to cover losses from ten flops drowning in the deep.
As I waited, Kim Sung-ho entered the room.