A Pen That Makes No Sound
I stopped what I was doing, rose from my seat, and asked,
"You're here to commission a writing instrument?"
"Yes. I need one that doesn't make any noise."
"A silent writing instrument… I see. Have a seat, first. I'll bring out some coffee."
But before I could even finish the offer, Tae-seok had already set three cups of instant coffee on the table with the practiced ease of someone who'd been waiting for the cue.
"Please, have some coffee while we talk."
Unlike the watery cups he usually made for himself, these were perfect—the paper cups filled only halfway with water, the mix strong and properly brewed.
They hadn't even taken a sip before the shaggy-haired man started complaining.
"Come on, Assistant Manager Hong. I already told you I don't need this. Do we really have to spend this kind of money? And besides…"
He flicked a glance at my face, then swallowed whatever he'd been about to say.
Even so, the man he'd called Assistant Manager Hong pressed on, undeterred.
"Sir, this is Master Artisan Kang Cheolwoo. He's genuinely famous. He's been on television, and even though he looks young, people are already talking about designating him as an Intangible Cultural Heritage holder. Please, just trust me this once."
"Haa… I've tried every pen there is. At this point, what's even the…"
He stole another glance at my face.
Honestly… maybe I should start wearing aging makeup on purpose.
It was always the same. The biggest reason people hesitated was my age. They'd hear the word "master artisan," walk in, and find a man who looked barely out of his twenties sitting there waiting for them. No wonder they got nervous.
Never mind that I've lived at least several decades longer than any of them…
Then again, if I were being honest with myself—a hundred years ago, if I'd heard tell of a master craftsman and walked in to find someone as young-looking as I am now, I wouldn't have trusted him either.
Well. Nothing to be done about it, I suppose.
I took a sip of coffee and asked the shaggy-haired man, calmly,
"If you're a writer, does that mean you write novels?"
He settled a little, then answered.
"…Yes, that's right. I write novels. Kim Jeong-hoon."
"Mr. Kim. I understand that my age makes it hard to trust me. But appearances aside, when it comes to custom commissions, there is no one in this country who can make a better product than I can. Don't worry—just tell me what you need."
Where does he get that kind of confidence?
Kim had heard from Assistant Manager Hong on the way over that I was famous, but the self-assurance I was showing now was almost excessive.
"That's an extraordinary amount of confidence."
Faced with that kind of conviction, even Kim found his interest stirring.
"Is that so… Then…"
The moment he started to get into the specifics, a piece of calligraphy hanging on the workshop wall caught his eye.
Wait a second… is that…?
"Hold on a moment. Before we talk about the commission, let me ask you one thing."
"Yes? What is it?"
"That calligraphy over there… is that the work of Master Matsuoka Genjiro?"
I nodded, as if it were nothing of particular note.
"It is. Master Matsuoka gifted that piece to me. You recognized it—you must be a fan of his."
"Yes… among people who know calligraphy, it's rare to find someone who isn't. No, that's not the point. How does Master Matsuoka's work end up in a workshop like this…"
For a split second, Kim very nearly said "this ramshackle little workshop," and only just managed to catch himself, swapping it for "a workshop like this."
I hesitated over whether I ought to talk about Master Matsuoka, then decided there was no harm in it.
Client details are supposed to be confidential, but this one's already public knowledge. Shouldn't be a problem.
Master Matsuoka had mentioned me several times in recent interviews. There was nothing to be gained by staying quiet about it now.
"I made Master Matsuoka's brush."
"Ah… in a recent interview he said he'd found an extraordinary brush and started writing again… so that was…"
"Yes. I made that brush."
The look in Kim's eyes shifted. The fact that I had crafted Matsuoka's brush had clearly done a great deal for my credibility.
Assistant Manager Hong, who had been listening from the side, turned to Kim.
"Sir, who is this Master Matsuoka, that you're reacting like that?"
"You don't know Matsuoka Genjiro? He's a legend in Japanese calligraphy. Widely considered the greatest calligrapher in postwar Japan. If that piece went up at auction, it'd easily fetch hundreds of thousands of dollars."
Assistant Manager Hong wasn't the only one startled by the number. Tae-seok, who'd been puttering around with odd jobs nearby, was just as stunned.
That calligraphy was worth that much…?
He'd walked past it without a second thought. From now on, he silently vowed, he would never come within a foot of that wall again.
Kim spoke to me in a voice that had, at last, begun to sound like respect.
"You're no ordinary craftsman, are you. I suppose that confidence is earned."
"You're too kind. Now then—would you tell me about the commission?"
He let out a long, heavy sigh, and began to explain.
"Well, you see. The truth is……"
Once I'd heard the whole story, I closed my notebook.
"So the scratch of the pen on paper breaks your concentration, and you can't write."
"That's right. It's actually a fairly common problem among writers. You could call it a kind of sensory hypersensitivity. Medication helps some people, but in my case, even psychiatric drugs haven't done a thing."
"Hmm…"
A pen that makes no sound, huh.
It wasn't a simple request.
The market was full of products advertised as silent pens. Strictly speaking, though, none of them were truly silent.
No matter how much you dampen the noise, the instant the nib scrapes against paper, some faint sound is inevitable…
I must have looked like I was struggling with it, because Kim's face took on a faintly disappointed cast.
"It's too difficult, isn't it."
Anyone else, maybe. But not me.
Anyone else would have said that some minimum of sound was simply unavoidable. I, however, had already solved this problem once before.
This is the kind of problem that needs a complete shift in thinking.
I shook my head.
"No. It's possible."
"I knew it would be too much… wait. What? It's really possible? You can actually make a pen that doesn't make a single sound?"
I nodded.
"A ballpoint won't work, though. It'll have to be a fountain pen. Is that all right?"
"As long as it doesn't make a sound, I don't care what it is. The pen I use now is a fountain pen anyway."
"Understood. As for the timeline…"
I checked my schedule. Fortunately, I'd cleared a good deal of the backlog yesterday; the remaining work would be finished by this morning.
"I should be able to have it done around five this afternoon."
Kim's eyes went wide.
"I'm sorry? You can make the whole thing in a single day?"
"Wouldn't it be stranger if a single fountain pen took longer than that? It's a bit much to wait around here, so come back this afternoon."
I stood to get back to work, and Assistant Manager Hong, sitting beside Kim, caught me in a hurry.
"Ah, um… Master Artisan. I mean, sir. About the price…"
"You can discuss that with our Department Head Min, here."
Tae-seok startled at the title.
"What? I'm a department head now?"
"Last time you were a deputy manager, so this time you're department head."
Tae-seok gave me a look of pure disbelief.
"…This isn't some kids' game of pretend…"
"What's the harm? Department Head Min Tae-seok, I'll leave it to you."
That was the charm of a two-man company. One word from the boss, and you could go from new hire to department head in a single week.
Tae-seok's face shifted smoothly into a courteous smile, and he began drawing up the estimate.
"For a fountain pen like this, our usual base rate looks like this… factoring in the nature of the commission and the time involved, the final amount comes to this."
Kim and Assistant Manager Hong both stared at the number.
"Th-that's a lot more expensive than I expected."
"The skill is worth it. The deposit is ten percent. And if you're not satisfied with the finished piece, we'll refund every last bit of it—deposit included."
Assistant Manager Hong blinked.
"You'll refund everything if they're not satisfied…? Wait, then if someone just changes their mind and says they don't like it, wouldn't you take a huge loss?"
A faint smile touched the corner of Tae-seok's mouth.
"Well. Not a single person who's received something our boss made has ever done that."
Assistant Manager Hong nodded as if that settled it, and pulled a card from his wallet.
"Cards are fine, I assume?"
"Of course. Kakao Pay, Naver Pay, all of it. We'll just process the deposit for now."
Oh… he's actually good at this.
Tae-seok was far better at putting together an estimate than I'd expected. He'd mentioned doing about a year of sales work before enlisting at twenty; apparently that hadn't been an exaggeration.
At that level, he'd handle this side of the business far better than I ever could.
"Hoo… that should do it for this one."
I set the finished bag aside and stretched. When I looked around the workshop, Kim and Assistant Manager Hong were already gone.
Tae-seok was at the computer, working on something.
"Department Head, what are you up to?"
"Don't call me that… This. I figured I'd get the incoming jobs organized on the computer."
"Oh…"
It was surprisingly well put together. The slapdash records I'd been keeping by hand looked far cleaner once they were laid out in a spreadsheet. With two people doing what one person used to, the workload had lightened, and the operation was starting to take on something like a system.
Hiring one more person was definitely the right call.
Tae-seok glanced over at me.
"Looks like the bag's done. Starting on the fountain pen now?"
"I said five o'clock, so if I start now, the timing should be just about right."
Three hours left. That was plenty.
Tae-seok, though, was looking at me with a face full of doubt.
"But is a fountain pen that makes no sound at all actually possible? Doesn't there have to be at least a tiny bit of noise?"
I answered as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.
"You change the way you think about it."
"Change the way you think?"
I gathered the materials one by one, then turned the question back on him.
"Tae-seok. When you write on paper with a ballpoint or a fountain pen, why does it make a sound?"
"Well… because the pen and the paper are touching, obviously."
"Exactly. The sound happens because the pen touches the paper. So that's where you solve it. You make a pen that never touches the paper."
Tae-seok stared at me as if I'd started speaking another language.
"What…? Is that actually possible? If the pen doesn't touch the paper, how do you even write…"
I looked at him, confidence written plainly across my face.