Chapter 23
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: Mom's Guest
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"You're coming?"
"Yeah! I'm passing by on Sunday anyway, so I'll stop in!"
"Mom, you don't have a car."
"I've got that covered! Anyway, we're eating dinner together."
"Got it. I got it, but..."
Writers rely on insight.
"Mom, you're not coming alone, right?"
"Ohohohohonghong. You'll see."
She was heading to the East Sea for the weekend.
'Is she really dating someone?'
It was the first time Mom's voice had sounded this excited.
I headed to the pantry and prepared dinner with Ye-jin. Jin-seong had already handled the basics, so all we had to do was heat things up.
Mr. Hwang showed up too.
"What a feast. Heh heh heh."
Maybe because of all the rainy summer days, Mr. Hwang had been busy with building maintenance lately.
"Young president."
"Yes?"
"You know the guy in 208?"
"Ah, yes."
"Heard he got laid off yesterday. Was working security, and boom—unemployed overnight."
"Oh..."
"Here's the thing. He's got some handyman skills. What if I hired him on and we looked after him a bit?"
Ye-jin stepped in at Mr. Hwang's suggestion.
"I'll talk to him. President, you focus on your writing."
Ye-jin was the perfect secretary and manager.
"Thanks."
"Since it came up, the residents have been asking about jobs at our company lately. They don't need much pay—just something to do."
People wouldn't be living in a goshiwon if they had high-paying office jobs. They were scraping by at the bottom of society, doing the grunt work no one else wanted, barely enough to get by.
"You handle it and judge wisely."
She cared about my money even more than I did, so Ye-jin would do great.
"Ah! Feels good!"
Jin-seong came in, wiping his face with a towel.
"Why not wash up before eating?"
"Do I stink?"
He sniffed his arm and sat down.
With the AC installed, the whole goshiwon felt noticeably cooler inside. This was livable. As long as it wasn't suffocating just sitting still, we could survive the summer.
"My buddy sells used appliances. If I ask him, I can grab wall-mounted fans for a few thousand won each. Want some?"
Ye-jin lit up with a loud "Yes!" at Mr. Hwang's offer.
"Got it. If they're available, I'll haul 'em over in the truck. Hanging them in every room's no big deal."
Some might dismiss it. Others might frown at folks like them.
But Mr. Hwang could do things we couldn't, and there was no malice in his generous smile.
"Thank you."
"Nah, I'm the thankful one! You put in AC too! Life's great now. Eating and sleeping well—haven't felt sick at all."
Back in my room, I scoured the serialization sites.
I still couldn't find that piece I'd "seen" before. If I could just grab its tail, I could track the guy down.
"Whoa... This one's insane too. How does he write so fast?"
The college student marveled at the story of a mobster's youngest son. He kept up with Kunlun Return and Infinite Reincarnation too, and with 3 to 5 chapters dropping daily per series, the satisfaction was immense.
'Is he writing with a team?'
Such speculation was common online. Was Memento Mori really solo, or a group effort?
He left a comment.
Author-nim, top-notch as always! Cheers! Always cheering you on!
Three days in, the finale had over 6,000 views. This one would hit free bests #1 soon. It might even top the paid sales of the previous two.
"Phew. Maybe a quick game."
He'd binged all of Memento Mori's updates and was about to dive into the battlefield game, but he froze.
'No.'
He was an aspiring writer too. Hadn't penned anything decent yet, but Memento Mori's works had taught and inspired him lately.
'Write even one word instead of gaming.'
Memento Mori might not know it, but his stories had a positive ripple effect. Aspiring writers were dissecting his regression, reincarnation, and possession tropes, plotting their own twists.
'Incorporate my major for extra flavor?'
Classes were brutally dull, but as material? Could make for a solid hook.
'An urban engineer heads to another world...'
Imagination was always fun. Executing it engagingly? That was the trick.
Still, the college student lost track of time pouring his best into a novel.
'Morning already?'
How focused was he? Sun rose without notice. No bathroom breaks, banged out three chapters.
'That was fun.'
Grinning with satisfaction, he uploaded chapters 1 through 3 and crashed into bed.
Zzzrrrrr.
Out like a light. Writing drained mental and physical energy alike.
Sunday, 11 a.m.
"Eat and sleep, you slob!"
Mom's shout pried his eyes open. He rubbed the sleep from them with his knuckles and slumped into a chair.
Weekends usually started with a battlefield run, but after uploading last night, he'd conked out with the serialization site still open.
'Figures. Who'd read my stuff?'
Ch. 1: 5 views
Ch. 3: 3 views
One comment, though. Expecting a "Good read, bye," he clicked—and his heart dropped.
"...Huuuuh?!"
Hello. I'm Memento Mori, president and author of Memento Mori Studio. I thoroughly enjoyed your precious work. I left this comment because I'd love to work with you...
"C-crazy!"
Goosebumps everywhere. The Memento Mori commented personally?
"Eat your rice!"
"M-Mommm!"
To become a webnovel author, two things were essential.
First: Write something fun. This wasn't literary fiction or ego-stroking. Readers came for entertainment, and webnovels had to compete with YouTube, webtoons, and every other content out there. That meant cranking out even funner stories.
'He's got talent.'
Some awakened after a decade of grinding like me. Others were born with it.
Sure, rough edges aplenty, but he nailed those "sparkling" moments that popped.
I left the goshiwon and walked to the subway station.
'If only he had stamina.'
Second: The mental fortitude for marathon serialization.
Get kidnapped like me, and you'd learn quick. But tons of writers dropped out from sheer endurance issues.
No clue if that guy would reach out, but first things first—Mom.
'Ten years?'
I hadn't visited often even after moving to Seoul, so I had no idea what face to make seeing her.
'There it is.'
Spotted the Manna Galbi sign and stepped inside.
"Reservation under Jeong Hyun-woo."
"Ah! Your party's already in a room. This way."
Slide.
The door opened.
'Ah, as expected...'
A strange man sat beside Mom. But one thing I hadn't anticipated: The path to max-level author was long indeed.
"Son! You're here! Say hi! This is Uncle Lee Tae-gon."
"Hello..."
"This is Uncle's daughter, Lee Hye-ri."
A girl about my age was there.
"Hi..."
This was painfully awkward.
"So you're Hyun-woo. Heard a lot about you."
The uncle smiled warmly and gestured to sit.
Hye-ri in the seat next to me looked just as uncomfortable.
"Hye-ri's living alone in Seoul too."
"Ah, yeah..."
"Son, everything okay?"
"Ah, uh..."
Parent-meeting vibes. Just swap protagonist sides, same awkward hell.
Heaping ribs arrived. I'd usually salivate, but now it felt like sitting on thorns.
"Hye-ri goes to Korea University."
Korea University—the nation's top school.
"..."
"..."
He knew my situation, so the uncle just gave an awkward smile, no questions for me.
'If these two hit it off...'
Would she become my stepsister? No blood ties, endless awkwardness ahead.
'But Mom really likes him.'
This was post-kidnapping, so even I didn't know how it ended. Maybe after her son vanished, she chose differently.
"No beer for you. Eat this."
The uncle fussed over Mom attentively.
"..."
"..."
Heading to the countryside later, no booze flowed—making it even stuffier.
Hye-ri too. Tough spot for a 22-year-old girl.
Hm.
Past me would've sat there awkwardly till goodbye.
"What's your major?"
"...English Literature. Minor in Japanese."
"Bet you're great at English?"
Too obvious a question?
"Do translation?"
"A few part-time gigs over breaks."
The uncle chimed in, listening.
"Hye-ri's spoken English fluently since she was little! Hahaha!"
He'd heard I was an unemployed bum, so he held back the bragging—but couldn't hide the pride.
Mom eyed things nervously by contrast.
Time to liven it up. Wasn't this filial piety?
"If you're interested, hit me up. I've been looking for a translator."
I handed Hye-ri my business card.
"...?"
"...Son, you got a job?"
Hye-ri squinted at the card.
"Memento Mori Studio... President?"
Job? Nah, I was the president.
"Started a company."
"You, with what money...? Ah, no, what kind of company?"
Her face screamed worry—had this broke nobody gotten scammed?
"We produce novels, webtoons, that stuff. Meant to mention it last visit..."
Passed cards to Mom and the uncle too.
"Just starting out, but bought a small building and paid off debts this month. Come visit sometime."
"Bought a building?"
Hye-ri googled on her phone, jaw dropping.
"This is huge! World's #1? Monster rookie? 10 billion sales author? Look! News articles!"
Internet loved exaggeration.
"Not quite that big."
Rang the bell.
"Cold noodles for anyone?"
Time for a cool bowl.
Splat.
Hye-ri kept scrolling. Mom stared blankly at the card, disbelief etched on her face.
"Ahem. So, you write novels?"
The uncle asked.
"Write, manage authors, adapt novels to comics."
Webtoons drew blank looks.
"Does it pay that well?"
"Enough to live on."
My casual grin had Hye-ri muttering after peeking at comments.
"...Minimum 100 million a month..."
Not salary. Monthly revenue. Brag-worthy, right?
Mom, chin up!
"For real, son?"
Yikes, she'd faint when the crypto booms hit.
"Still in investment phase, not much spare cash yet. It'll stabilize soon."
Judging the mood, Mom might don a hanbok for a wedding soon. To make her proud son shine, I'd need to earn more.
'That bastard kept even this from us.'
He'd wrecked not just my life, but Mom's too.
Revenge burned as Hye-ri mumbled from her phone.
"Livestock worker here. Thanks to Author-nim, I endure tough days happily. Loving the new work. Want to send some beef your way—how?"
Mom's eyes welled up.