Chapter 33
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: Romance Schemes and Rooftop Rehearsals
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"How did this happen?"
"I've been wondering the same thing."
It started something like that, building up to a conclusion where he regrows to S-rank in another world and stops a magic kingdom from opening gates.
A worldview where this side and that side touched.
'Status starts at the bottom so climbing up feels rewarding.'
He possessed the two sons of a tenant farmer, with a string of younger siblings for extra motivation.
"I Became the S-Rank Son of a Tenant Farmer."
That seemed like a solid title. The territory they belonged to was in the northern empire.
"Throw in the Northern Grand Duke as a keyword."
A tenant farmer under a baron or viscount would let him stand up to the tyranny of a nearby count's family, popping off satisfying revenge moments left and right.
"Just nail down these two characters and keep the bromance balanced."
And it'd make a perfect otherworld possession story.
"Phew, that should do it."
Having the framework laid out like this would make writing the real thing a breeze.
First, he had to wrap up the gangster family's youngest son, so he'd keep mulling over the tenant farmer son, adding what fit and trimming the excess.
The human brain had its limits—tomorrow might bring even wilder ideas than today.
'It's an experiment, so it might not perform well. Better prepare for that.'
An old memory suddenly surfaced.
Author-nim, ever thought about trying romance? -7
Her questions were always a welcome surprise.
I have zero feminine intuition for that stuff? -1
I bet it'd be fun even in your unique style! -7
Would romance even sell without that sensitivity? -1
I think romance needs to change. Awesome heroine! The male leads just help out! -7
I'll give it a shot someday. No idea when. -1
As long as the heroine was lovable, the male leads would handle all the side issues effortlessly.
The reason romance couldn't stretch to epic lengths was that once love bloomed, it ended—but dragging it out just left readers unsatisfied.
"Might as well jot this down while it's fresh."
Imagining was always fun, and sketches like this were an author's lifeline.
"Romance, huh..."
Not sure if it'd sell, but it'd be groundbreaking and innovative—might as well pioneer it.
"Either a smash hit or total flop."
Modern stories heavy on gut-wrenching emotions weren't his strong suit, so he'd focus on adventure and growth.
【Prologue
A single carriage pushed through the storm, struggling along the muddy road.】
"Treatment, so keep it light, light."
【The wind was so fierce the carriage rocked perilously.
"Miss, we should shelter nearby tonight to avoid the rain."
The escort knight pulled the reins and spoke.
"Do that."
At the voice from inside, the knight scanned the surroundings.
'Of all places...'
The only house in sight was far off, surrounded by graves. He had to get the miss safely to the count's family, but in this weather, holing up was wiser.
The carriage headed for the gravedigger's home.】
"She meets the first male lead here."
The heroine spots a boy chatting with ghosts and never forgets that day.
About seven years later, when her family faces crisis, the boy shows up as a 'Necromancer'—bam!
"Second male lead could be a woodcutter's son."
A few days later, heading to the count's, the carriage owes a debt to a woodcutter on a mountainside.
She meets another odd boy there—lowly birth, but one swing of his axe fells a thick tree effortlessly. Born talent?
"Grow him into a knight too."
Two boys aged like wild ginseng over seven years become the heroine's powerhouse allies in her rise.
Of course, she's the core. No leaning on them—she must be an iron-willed woman standing against the count's family and the Northern Grand Duke.
The Northern Grand Duke falls for her strength too.
'Sneak in the Northern Grand Duke keyword again.'
Destroy the count's family to nix the political marriage, and things get thrilling.
Romance fantasy needed factions and politics to go long-form.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud!
Diving into a new genre, the keyboard hammered like it might shatter.
'Just nail the moments they fall for her... Should I make it 19+?'
Too much?
'Nah, if it's fun, who cares.'
Grinning like a maniac while building plausibility, someone knocked.
"President, busy?"
Ah, the meeting slipped his mind.
* * *
A week later.
People romanticized a writer's life, but it was barely different from any office worker.
Wake up, work, eat, work, sleep.
His quirk was running a company, so he met lots of folks.
"..."
Why the hell were these kids doing this here?
Yoo Jin-seong said gravely with the others.
"Why can't you do this easy stuff?"
Watching him nail tough moves effortlessly, the others looked defeated.
"Don't you think it's weird that you mastered this choreography in a week?"
Jin-seong clicked his tongue at the complaint.
"It's easy. Just memorize it."
"That's why! If it were that simple, idols wouldn't take years to debut."
"It takes that long?"
"Obviously!"
He knew they first saw Jin-seong as a pretty-faced weirdo, but now their eyes sparkled... No, more like monster-gazing.
"Nothing's impossible. Quit slacking and practice."
Wait, he set up a practice room—why the goshiwon rooftop?
"Hyung-nim."
Jin-seong approached.
"But is it okay if I keep doing this?"
"Why not?"
"You said it's singing, right?"
"Yeah."
"Can I really be an entertainer?"
"You'll know once you try."
"Hm, never thought about it."
"You'll crush it."
Jin-seong showed talent in anything physical. Min Team Leader's choreography was high-level, but he mastered it after a few watches.
Min had raved he was heaven-sent for dance. If average idols were A-rank dancers, Jin-seong was SS.
"It's fun, so I'm doing it, but..."
Jin-seong smiled awkwardly. He felt zero like a singer now, but the protagonist knew the future.
'No variables. With them...'
No one knew how far these rooftop kids at the rundown goshiwon could climb.
'Not to BTB levels, but they'll make something of it.'
Great track, killer choreo, solid vocals—no weak links.
'Just do my part. That's all.'
Watching them practice, lost in thought, Go Ye-jin climbed up.
"President."
"Eaten?"
"Earlier."
"Take it easy. Haven't seen your face much lately."
"Yes!"
Told to relax, she shoved over a stack of papers.
"The rest just need your sign-off. Big news: tons of platforms sniffing around our webtoons."
"Didn't we decide?"
"Better offers keep coming."
"Might look good short-term, but to grow our platform, we tough it out like an investment. Need hit works to draw readers."
"I agree. I'll turn them down."
"Keep relations smooth."
"Yes! Oh, those foundation folks from before want to meet next Monday. They talked to a drama production company."
"This fast?"
"Good, right?"
"Yeah, great."
"Lunch? Dinner?"
"Dinner's better."
Drama, huh. Like Jin-seong not feeling the singer life, drama was alien to him.
More than anything, adapting his novel to screen was every author's dream. His niche genre getting a drama?
'World-shaking.'
He led with regression-possession-reincarnation, but mainstreaming was another beast.
Ask anyone on the street about Kunlun Return? Nine out of ten clueless. But Gangster Family's Youngest Son as a drama? Five out of ten: "Oh, that one? Yeah!"
'All good.'
He asked Ye-jin.
"When's the track done?"
Demo was in, but needed full composition for lyrics. Choreo would tweak too.
"They said end of month. Gotta chat with Min Team Leader, but aiming for debut next year."
"Better late and polished than rushed."
"Yes!"
"Oh, the 'English teacher' comes today."
"That one you mentioned?"
"Yeah. They'll need English bad."
"Japanese first?"
"No, English."
Ye-jin trusted him even if he said crap made cake, but tilted her head at Jin-seong's crew.
Domestic shine was one thing; overseas was unthinkable now. Japan maybe, but North America was barren for male idols.
"Got it."
Might irk her, his mom's boyfriend's daughter hanging around, but he'd max out resources. He holed up writing anyway—barely saw anyone.
"That cover it?"
"Yes. I'll report any fires."
"Thanks for the hard work."
"You're the one grinding, President."
That evening.
When all slept, he roamed communities and serial sites. Should've crashed, but insomnia hit.
'Am I too late?'
Or had the future he knew not happened?
That demon Team Leader was who-knows-where doing god-knows-what, but 'his' story wasn't appearing.
Time had passed—Numbers 1-3 should surface soon.
Was he replaced, Number 11 under his watch, twisting the bastard's plans?
'If so, perfect.'
Couldn't delegate this—had to grind scraps of time.
"Hm..."
No quitting. The guy obsessed enough to corral dozens for breeding wouldn't stop; prep took time, so he'd push on.
'Thirty more minutes.'
Clock past 4 a.m., he scoured the women's community posts.
Aren't recent novels so predictable?
They're all the same. No fun.
Like there's a factory churning out identical crap.
Not content with games, now polluting novels too.
Even Snow White possession?
Half a year in, regressions, possessions, reincarnations were overflowing.
His code was easy for anyone; clichés ten years early inspired writers massively.
'Inevitable.'
Once momentum built, it wouldn't stop till new codes emerged. Diversity was good; more writers meant masterpieces. The pie needed to grow.
Please check my novel! Worked hard! Please!
He chuckled. Posts like that got shredded 90% of the time. In bite-fest communities, genuine praise was rare.
'Cute.'
Thinking it fresh and green, he clicked—and bolted from his chair.
"Huh?"