Omen of Wicked Magic
The first tutoring session with Jae-a ended in utter disaster. Of course, I couldn't master every webnovel genre just from skimming a few over a couple of days. I'd anticipated that I might not know the exact kind of story Jae-a wanted to write, but Internet Broadcast Novels were beyond anything I'd ever encountered. Writing novels about internet streaming...? Why not just watch the streams? But my lack of understanding didn't make the genre vanish. Needless to say, the session didn't go smoothly.
To help me out, Jae-a immediately recommended a few works and tried explaining them, but it was all beyond my grasp. There was no way the tutoring could proceed properly. How could I teach a genre I knew nothing about? In the end, we had to spend the remaining time giving feedback on the novel Jae-a had already written. Even other genres wouldn't have been easy to teach, of course. My original plan wasn't for me to lecture like some authority figure; I wanted us to learn together, refining Jae-a's writing in the process. I'm no stranger to genre conventions, but the pacing and rhythm are fundamentally different. Still, Internet Broadcast Novels turned out to be some unforeseen monster.
What...? Putting internet stream chat logs into a novel? The protagonist always wins, adored by everyone, a challenger-level pro at every game, now singing like a pro, acing studies, swimming in cash, gorgeous and handsome to boot... Could you even call that a novel? It felt eerily similar to the romance fantasies I'd glimpsed once before—mindless drivel where lazy, conscienceless women get loved just for existing, everything falling into place without effort. It was so repulsive I slammed it shut. That crap couldn't possibly qualify as literature. Entertainment has its limits.
I couldn't straight-up tell Jae-a to his face that it was garbage, though. It would've just bred resentment and killed the tutoring dead. Plus, I'd already promised to help no matter what he wrote. A man doesn't go back on his word... well, not that dramatically, but pride's a thing. On the way home after the session, I tried reading the recommended novels, but they were filled with nothing but nauseating incomprehensibility. Stuff for the affection-starved, validation-craving crowd. Imagining myself writing something like that made me want to puke.
The standout webnovels I'd read for reference at least had some fun to them, but these were so saccharine they made my teeth ache. Afraid it'd taint the novel I was currently writing, I eventually gave up. These things could only have a negative influence. They lingered in my head, though, so I couldn't write properly that day. The hangover lasted until the next tutoring session.
Jae-a still seemed reluctant to show me his current work straight-up, so instead of that bizarre Internet Broadcast Novel, he sent a revised version of an older one. When I arrived at the study room, he was eyeing me warily, and I had no idea what to say first. I had to change the subject.
"Hey, you got any sisters?"
"Huh? Yeah, two. Why?"
"Just curious. Ha-neul mentioned tutoring Professor Seo's kid, and she asked if it was a boy or girl."
"Ha-neul knows my sisters too. The oldest is a nurse now, and the second one's a high school senior prepping for the Creative Writing Department entrance exams."
"A nurse? That's wild. I figured Professor Seo's kids were all word nerds."
"We're the black sheep in the family."
Chatting a bit loosened things up, thankfully. I was the tutor here, after all, obligated to help this kid make real progress. Like last time, we started with feedback on his submitted novel. But inevitably, the unavoidable moment arrived.
"So, did you check out the novels I recommended?"
"...Yeah, I read some."
"What'd you think? Fun, right?"
"...Yeah, fun."
Jae-a picked up on my lukewarm reaction right away—his face fell instantly.
"Guess not."
I couldn't lie to that expression.
"Yeah, honestly, I didn't like them. Couldn't really get it."
"...Fair enough."
His face said anything but "fair enough."
"Truth is, I can't see this stuff as novels. I get wanting to write in a genre, but I don't think I can help with this one."
"Got it."
The forced words twisted his stiff expression into a self-mocking smile.
"You're just like Dad in the end. Everything I write is trash, not even a real novel."
"I wouldn't say it that—"
"But you thought it, right?"
I was speechless. He'd nailed it.
"I was stupid to expect anything. The Creative Writing Department's all the same—stuck-up types. You're no different."
"... "
"Just keep the tutoring casual like this. I'll tell Dad you're doing great. Don't sweat it."
"... "
"Ha-neul got it, though."
If Jae-a's goal was to piss me off, mission accomplished. That hit the sore spot: comparing me to Muk Ha-neul. It definitely soured my mood. Sure, even if women are inferior and repulsive, I wouldn't nitpick a simple comparison. But getting outdone by Muk Ha-neul—a woman—on writing? No way in hell.
"Hey."
"Yeah?"
"...You got that Internet Broadcast Novel thing you're writing, right?"
"What for?"
"Send it over. I'll study it somehow by next time. And never compare me to her again."
"Study...?"
"Even if I have to read every Internet Broadcast Novel online, I'll make you say you're sorry. Never lump me with that woman—or any woman—again."
"...You got mad over that? What grudge does Ha-neul have against you anyway?"
"None of your business. Just send it. Got it?"
"...I'll think about it."
He got the message, I figured. The session wrapped up in a strained atmosphere. Once it was over and I stepped out, some regret crept in. I'd turned an easy out into a hassle over a flash of anger—par for the course.
On the way back, I ran into Muk Ha-neul by chance.
"Senior, coming from tutoring Professor Seo's son...? Why the long face?"
Ah, so much for masking it. My face must've twisted recalling that earlier crap.
"Nothing. Busy—gotta run."
"Um, Senior? You free this weekend?"
"Weekend?"
"I... got two play tickets. Wanna go together?"
No clue if my face showed irritation or just surprise. It was a date invite from Muk Ha-neul. Obviously, I planned to turn it down. I had time, but no interest in courting annoyance. For some reason, though...
"...Yeah, I do."
"R-Really?"
"...Text me."
I couldn't figure it out no matter how I racked my brain. Why agree to see a play with a woman I despise? Maybe it was magic. Muk Ha-neul must've cast some wicked spell on me.
Just to clarify: Jae-a never sent me his novel before the next session. And that weekend, I didn't go on a date with Muk Ha-neul either.
~
Wednesday, one day before the interview—I set aside my own novel to cram Internet Broadcast Novels. My head spun, but my eyes steadily devoured the text. There were various subtypes. The most baffling were the ones called TS stories, usually about guys turning into girls and streaming. Utterly incomprehensible nonsense. I couldn't wrap my head around a man suddenly becoming a woman for no reason, let alone enjoying it enough to broadcast. It might've been better if she'd shown the agony of it. That'd be the natural fallout from such a fall.
Come to think of it, Muk Ha-neul had written something similar once. Totally different vibe, though. Even for her, comparing it to this would be an insult. Probably.
As I powered through the dizzying read, my phone rang. It was Hwa-won.
"Hello?"
"Yo, it's me. We're drinking hard over here—your name came up, so I called."
"...My name?"
"Yeah, chilling with Su-young Senior. She said she's doing the TTBS interview too. You knew?"
Su-young Senior was probably his ex-ex-ex or something. Like me, she'd debuted already and had three or four books out.
"Didn't you break up with her ages ago?"
"Just a casual hookup."
Bet they'd hit a motel for round two. Obvious.
"Anyway, called to give you a heads-up. The reporter covering it? She's from our department, apparently."
"What?"
"Dunno details! Senior says it's not someone you know well. Telling you just in case—you had enemies in the department."
"...Thanks."
Valuable intel, no doubt. If she was a woman from our department, no chance she liked me. Good to know ahead of time.
"Cool, drinks Saturday?"
"Got plans."
"You?"
"Yeah."
"With a chick?"
"...Hanging up."
Talking about the play with Ha-neul felt awkward for no reason, so I just ended the call. Hwa-won texted after, but I ignored it. The phone went quiet soon enough.
"Jin Seo-hye... was it?"
Vague memories surfaced. My head was killing me.