Chapter 65
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 65
Chapter Title: Goshiwon Life and Future Plans
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Joining this company had been a stroke of chance, but over the past six months, his life had changed beyond recognition.
For one, his relationship with his daughter had grown much closer, and watching the company grow from the ground up had been a valuable experience for him.
He hoped the company would thrive even more. And he wasn't the only one thinking that.
Wasn't Go Ye-jin volunteering for night shifts without anyone asking her to?
Having employees who genuinely worked for the company's sake was every boss's dream, but it rarely happened in reality.
He stood up.
"Then I'll leave you to it."
"Yes, Team Leader."
Ye-jin headed to her room after eleven. Like the president, she lived in one of the small goshiwon rooms and didn't find it inconvenient at all.
In fact, she could have moved to a small studio apartment with the money she'd saved over the past six months, but even her commute time felt too precious to waste.
She washed up simply, changed into comfortable clothes, and lay down. Then she checked out the latest from the world's top idol and the Jirisan Elf.
She had already received the manuscript earlier than anyone else, but skimming the live reactions and comments to the serialization was its own fun.
How does he read the pulse so perfectly?
Entertainment was a tricky realm. It was deeply subjective—what one person loved, another might hate.
But the president's novels rarely had that issue. With broad appeal, they drew in huge audiences, and he made characters stand out sharply through their relationships.
Ah, today was fun too.
It was always a bit disappointing when it ended, but there was always tomorrow.
She logged into the fan cafe. With news of the Jirisan Elf drama confirmed, fans were deep into virtual casting games.
She clicked on a post.
-Since there's singing too, wouldn't it be better to go with an actress? For that elf image!
Just looking at the novel, The Youngest Son of the Gangster House had been a huge hit back then, but now with Jirisan Elf serializing, it was getting even more attention.
Still, having a woman do it feels off.
She clicked another post.
-Isn't it time for a Lord of the Rings-level movie in our country?
There were plenty of intriguing comments.
That's still a stretch.
Not every web novel turning into a drama meant all of them could. Production costs were on another level.
She rolled around on her bed, sharing vibes with fans, and before she knew it, sleep took her.
And then she had this dream.
"Ahh..."
Am I lonely? I was flustered by the unusually steamy dream.
Making sure the hallway was empty, I dashed to the shower and doused myself in cold water to snap out of it.
Well, I'm a vigorous young man in my twenties physically. Sure, I hear "old man" a lot because of my secret experiences, but anyone looking at me would say I'm not fully mature yet.
Heading to the rooftop for water, I ran into Ye-jin.
"...Umph!"
She spotted me and scurried back to her room.
What's her deal?
Because I was bare-faced?
In the cafeteria, Jin-seong was standing and tasting the soup for seasoning—it had been a while.
"When'd you get back?"
"Around 3 a.m."
"Whoa..."
It wasn't even 8 yet?
"Want some breakfast? I'm still eating."
"Sure."
I helped Jin-seong set the table. Standing side by side, he asked,
"Heard you're hiring some girls."
"Manager Min say that?"
"Yeah."
"Auditions first."
"When?"
"Fastest in two months?"
"Damn... Gotta respect your drive, hyung. Sit down. I got the rest."
As I set the spoon in the soup bowl, Jin-seong spoke up.
"Do you think we can make it?"
This wasn't like him to ask.
"Kids feeling down?"
"Probably 'cause they're not sure. Imagining idol life was one thing, but living it is tougher, so they're weakening."
That's how everything in the world goes. You think you can handle it when others do it, but trying it yourself? Not easy.
"They'll perk up after going home for Lunar New Year."
Even knowing the future, explaining it was hard. What advice or comfort would help them?
As I pondered, footsteps came from outside. I thought it was Ye-jin, but someone else entered.
"Ah, President! Good morning!"
The woman bowing was the puppy-like writer from room 302.
"Eat up."
"I'll do it! You sit!"
The puppy writer bustled about.
Hm?
I like observing people. I draw novel characters from daily life. Plus, I'd spent ten years staring at faces on monitors.
She's into him.
Some people hide emotions well, others don't. She was the latter, and her gaze at Jin-seong wasn't casual.
Tough road ahead.
I couldn't dictate feelings, but Jin-seong seemed oblivious, which made me pity her more.
"Wow! This seaweed soup is amazing!"
That was genuine.
"It's the 208 ajusshi's birthday today," Jin-seong said, surprising me too.
"You plan all that?"
"I want to take care of it while I can. Lots of folks are checking out these days."
Goshiwon residents often headed to provinces for gigs. It was a perk, but it left gaps. Vacancies filled quickly with waiting writers.
"You're doing great."
I couldn't be like him. Looking at the puppy writer, I asked,
"Work going well?"
"Yes! It's fun! Finished up to chapter 4 yesterday—looking forward to it!"
Her face lit up. I couldn't fully get her as a webtoon artist, but creators share pains.
"I'll head out first. Eat slowly."
I finished my bowl and left the cafeteria.
"Hm..."
Then I pondered.
Now I was making money. Not that I was pinching pennies, but I occasionally felt the need for more space. Especially with seasons changing and no storage for clothes.
I stood at the rooftop railing, gazing far off. Ye-jin approached from behind.
"Eaten?"
Gone was her earlier fluster; she was composed now.
"Yeah. Ye-jin."
"Yes?"
"Room not too cramped?"
"It's fine. Why?"
"Been thinking if we really need to stay here."
I had no intention of ignoring the building owner's grandmother's will. The space for desperate folks would stay.
But did others need to put up with discomfort?
"Not the time for extra spending..."
"Not saying right now."
I looked down at sprawling Seoul. Once, none of those homes were mine. Now it was different.
Ye-jin smiled and asked,
"If we move, where to?"
"Central Seoul, for writers coming and going?"
"Doesn't have to be the company."
"No perks to distance. I like us all together like this."
Maybe after ten years alone.
Ye-jin gazed toward the Han River.
"Terminal access is nice, but Gangnam's pricey."
"Complicated for academy too."
"Where then...?"
I answered,
"Seongsu-dong."
"Hongdae?"
"No, Sangsu's there. Seongsu near Ttukseom Station. Lots of old houses, rundown small factories. Check it out when we have leeway?"
"Buying land?"
"Or buy a factory and build up."
She didn't ask why Seongsu. No arguments—nice.
It'll transform completely.
My trivia knowledge had uses. Even trapped, I memorized essentials.
No one'd believe it now.
It'd become a hotspot.
"Doesn't have to be right by Ttukseom. Further down's fine too—let me know cheap factories or lots."
"Got it."
"Eat."
I left Ye-jin and returned to my room.
Before writing today's novel, I rummaged through memories.
Seongsu popping up wasn't random; tons of treasures slept inside me.
I'd stuck to content before, but sorting them before forgetting seemed smart.
Can't let anyone see.
Password-protected the file. If this leaked, it'd outdo Nostradamus.
-Corona.
-Russia war.
-Climate change.
-Electric vehicles.
From global events,
-Presidential election.
-Real estate boom.
To domestic issues. Beyond content, it filled the gaps.
Listing them made the future hit hard!
Can't stop it, but can prepare.
I didn't know why I returned, but if nothing else, I learned to give back.
Not endlessly handing out. Even halting the worst was beyond one person.
Noveling this later? Wild.
Directly? Problems sure.
Subtle hints?
Writers avoided near-future. SF was distant, imagination-based.
But I could nail it exactly. Prophecy-level—like seasoning, it'd thrill readers.
Perfect with Jirisan Elf...
Protagonist in entertainment, dad chaebol—sneak in 2023 changes as previews.
"Thanks for inviting me."
I was at Sara Lee's JJ Entertainment building.
Not scheduled, but talks on investments and The Youngest Son of the Gangster House drama success, plus additional contracts.
"Great."
JJ Enter screamed sleek from the entrance. Successful folks' vibe.
"We spent big."
"Figures."
Seated on the sofa, Sara asked,
"Coffee?"
"Anything."
Yesterday, episode 6 of The Youngest Son of the Gangster House aired. We'd all gathered on the rooftop for the premiere viewing just days ago, and now it was February.
"First, Indonesia's inquiring about drama import."
"Good news?"
"Definitely."
"Yesterday's ratings hit 37.1%."
"Nice."
"Definitely."
We laughed at the echo.
"Channel predicts over 40%. You checked the script?"
"Gonna buy Byeon Writer beef. Set it up."
"Gather for finale."
"Sounds good."
"On that finale—shooting's not done, so options limited, but channel suggests adding 2 or 4 episodes."
"Possible?"
"If director, actors, writer agree."
"Ha... Nice."
"Laugh bigger. Script's done to end, so one extra episode makes four?"
"Byeon Writer suffers again."
"King crab over beef."
"VIP treatment."
16 episodes stretching to 20.
Glancing around laughing, papers on the table caught my eye. She'd been reviewing them.
Familiar text jumped out.
Huh?
Movie scenarios awaiting investment.