Chapter 57

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Translator: Wjin

Chapter: 57

Chapter Title: The Lure Takes Hold

-----------------------------------------------------------------

I accessed my OperaUreong account on my phone. Watching me do it, Jin-seong scooped out some rice and soup for me.

Not this one.

It wouldn't be a famous publisher. That Team Leader bastard was a meticulous lone operator, and the note I'd gotten right before he locked me up didn't mention any company name.

'Hmm... not yet?'

Six messages had come in. But they were all from major publishers I'd heard of at least once. Time to check the comments.

-How is this so fun?
-Next chapter!
-Take a vacation dayyyy!

The cheers from my precious readers scrolled by quickly.

'Thanks for looking past my shortcomings, dear readers.'

Right now, I needed to focus on my clear goal. Contacts came via messages, but plenty reached out through 'secret comments' too.

In fact, back when I was serializing Kunlun Return or Infinite Reincarnation, more industry folks had built rapport with me through comments giving feedback than through messages.

"Eat your soup. Finish up first."

"Yeah, thanks."

I replied but checked a few more anyway.

'Nothing.'

You lazy bastard!

Confirming he hadn't bitten the bait left me oddly deflated. But we were only on chapter 9, and I knew if I kept up this momentum, he'd show eventually.

"Tastes good, man."

I set my phone down and focused on my meal when Ye-jin asked,

"This is definitely going to blow up. Should we prep the webtoon adaptation early?"

Ye-jin already seemed fired up.

"Nah, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠let's watch for another ten days. Not confident enough yet."

"Got it."

The opening had successfully hooked readers with an elf kid that didn't exist in reality.

But from here, depending on what that little elf did next, the readership would split wide open—and that's when the real reactions would start pouring in.

'The trick is surviving in a chaebol family while dishing out fun along the way until she grows up.'

If readers fully bought into the character, they'd follow her whether she became an idol, ran a company, or juggled both. But bridging that initial hype into the rest was the key challenge.

"Want seconds?"

I was about ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to say no to Jin-seong's question when Min Team Leader walked into the cafeteria.

"What brings you here? You never eat breakfast, sir."

Jin-seong sounded surprised, but Min Team Leader sat down next to me.

"Figured you'd all be here."

Then he showed me a stack of documents.

"Take a look, President. Can't put this off anymore."

They were manager candidate resumes.

"Hmm..."

Jin-seong cleared my dishes.

"That's a lot."

Over fifty of them.

"And that's after screening."

I wasn't omnipotent in every area, but as the final decision-maker, I guess I had to handle this too.

I flipped through the resumes one by one when a sudden text afterimage flashed in my mind.

From some point on, Team Leader started showing us carefully selected variety shows. He ignored our tastes entirely, picking only the high-rated ones.

Sleep fled instantly. Knowing how much that guy could torment people, I pinched my thigh hard.

You son of a bitch! I prefer dramas! Why force this crap on me!

The manager, not the star, took center stage as the host, steadily supporting their celebrity for over nine years in a sweet, wholesome way.

The star was so grateful they secretly planned a birthday event for the manager.

Ah, what's fun about this?

That's how I'd felt then.

Maybe it'd hit different now.

"This one seems good."

I pulled out one resume and showed it to Min Team Leader.

"Isn't she too young? Barely any experience."

"Just a good vibe."

"...What about her stands out?"

She looked average, no great pedigree, but I knew someone ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠who'd stick it out for nine years straight.

I didn't know the ins and outs of a manager's life, but wasn't the human connection the most important part?

"She'll do great."

"Ha, you can be so weird sometimes, President. Fine, I'll interview her. Since you're at it, pick two more."

There was only one familiar face?

"You handle the rest."

I smiled and subtly stood to leave when Ye-jin followed.

"President!"

"Yeah?"

Killing intent flickered in Ye-jin's eyes. Had I done something wrong?

"Got any stockpiled chapters?"

Ah, the novel.

Authors change pen names for one of three reasons, usually.

A massive flop on the last work, crippling pressure from a mega-hit, or just screwing around.

I had a goal that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fit none of those categories. Who could've guessed I was writing for revenge?

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I slowly drummed my fingers on the desk. Deep thoughts always brought these tiny sounds dominating my hearing, sharpening my focus even more.

'Still hasn't checked?'

Today marked chapter 15 of Jirisan Elf, hitting free bestsellers #1.

Pure numbers-wise, it was stellar—I should be pondering paid serialization timing—but since that wasn't my only aim, I couldn't hide my impatience.

'Over a hundred thousand already.'

Chapter 1 inflows had jumped tenfold in days. Even a full month more wouldn't double it. User base was fixed; without steady new readers, views would drop off.

'Twenty chapters max from now.'

Had to go paid before inflows stalled. Catching him mattered, but I couldn't trash a well-crafted work either.

'Need to force his hand first.'

Once paid, no contact.

"Mm..."

Too immersed?

I leaned back, closed my eyes, tilted my face up.

Had to write The Strongest Idol Ever too, plus other stuff. No luxury to obsess here.

'Relax, relax...'

Pro tip for prolific output: learn to flip mental switches.

Turn off Jirisan Elf, light up the next. Forget revenge and Team Leader for now—become a god crafting new karma.

"Hoo..."

Deep breaths, rolled my neck.

"..."

Stood, stretched my back.

"Agh!"

Still antsy. I wasn't enlightened yet. If I were, I'd have transcended revenge too.

Grabbed my coat and left the room. Dead of winter—no one around.

1 a.m. Up to the rooftop.

Scamper!

A cat bolted over at my presence. Fully grown now, no issue leaving the roof. The others must've scattered.

"Whoa, you've bulked up!"

Tame since kittenhood, it didn't mind me picking it up.

Nyaah~.

What was this one's name? Soup? Jin?

Point was, its warmth thawed me out.

I held it to the railing. It stayed so good and cute.

Stroked its head with a finger, gazing at the city lights below, gradually letting go of urges.

What did I really want?

Revenge.

My strongest drive to live, but a dagger too. Get too close, and it cuts like now.

What else?

Right, Number 7.

She'd always been my rock. Missed her. But unattainable. This vagueness boiled frustration inside.

"Hoo..."

Shifted gaze to the cat.

Cute. Warm.

That's it.

No clue what it thought nestled against me, but maybe this simplicity was what I needed?

"Yeah."

Thinking I'd called, it looked up and meowed nyaah~.

"Yeah."

A smile came naturally.

Author life throws endless trials. Ninety-nine percent from my own head.

Ten years writing, topping free charts with Jirisan Elf now. Who was happier?

"Yeah..."

I knew. But as a human, needed time to reaffirm.

"Thanks. You brought me back."

My fight was a marathon. No knowing the end. Like writing a long novel.

Fill 5,000 characters daily for volume one, stack ten volumes.

Can't run if you can't walk. Watching that cat head off, I learned another lesson—possible because I'd seen it grow from birth.

Back to my room.

Opened the The Strongest Idol Ever folder, loaded the file onscreen.

I'm a writer.

A person who writes words. My night faded like this again.

"This guy's insane. What the hell?"

The man ha-ha'd at Jirisan Elf chapter 16. Not from fun—raw desire twisted his face.

Want it.

Steal this talent. More precisely, cage it.

Anxious, he bit his lower lip and checked the author's info.

"Too late...?"

A surprise busy week had kept him from new release monitoring.

The one he'd snatched tried suicide, leaving him nursing the guy with his heart in his throat.

Sewing stitches—on a human wrist, no less—had dried his mouth to ash.

"Fuck... if not for that retard."

Already #1, so major publishers must've swarmed. Such a shame. Could've made bank stealing this talent soon.

'Still, shoot a message?'

He pressed his throbbing temple, deliberating.

'Never seen anyone write this clean and easy.'

The more he read, the more he craved.

Liked the title. Chaebol wastrel dad setup too—without it, hardly male-oriented.

"Hmm..."

But caution first. Expose too much, risk blowing his grand plan. Safety paramount; even messages needed care.

"Tch..."

He stood from the chair. No decision, but couldn't just sit.

Into the hallway. He'd poured his fortune remodeling this place. No backing him now. His deeds were crimes—caught, game over.

Step. Step.

Dozens of doors lined both sides.

Passed 20s, into 10s. Numbers dwindled: 9, 8, 7, 6, 5.

Every room empty save #1. Only when filled would his dream complete.

Click.

Lock only he could open from outside released.

He entered #1, stared down at the man on the bed.

Bandages on wrists, skin and bones. Devoted care had restored some color to his face.

"You bastard, you cost me one."

Knew heavy sedatives kept him deep asleep, but rage demanded release.

"Hah... OperaUreong, huh..."

He sneered bitterly.

"Retard, but damn entertaining."

```