The Great Storyteller

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

“If you go in there again, I just might tell you,” Wol said calmly, pointing toward the black water while sounding as if sending Juho out on an errand.

After some contemplation, Juho asked, “You mean it?”

“Yeah! Or would you rather me go in the water and call out for help? Would you come to get me then?”

“Remind me again why you wanna see me drown?”

“Well, because it’s interesting,” Wol replied with an innocent smile, his hair blowing all over the place and covering half of his face. “So, you were given a second chance, huh? Well, lucky you! It reminds me of the leather goods that went through the protagonist’s hands.”

Wol’s face looked quite haggard. Hiding the truth by lying and bluffing, the author was blatantly making a fool out of Juho. When Juho looked at him with narrowed eyes, Wol responded by turning up the corner of his mouth, which gave the young author a bad feeling. Wol’s smile tended to mean trouble. The more Juho became cautious and wary, the happier Wol seemed.

“You know what? You’re not too bad.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Hyun Do sure knows what he’s doing. He’s got sharp eyes,” Wol said, sounding genuine that time, as if his attitude had done a complete one-eighty. Then, he patted the young author on the shoulder with force. Juho felt no impact.

“So, are you gonna tell me how the story ends?” Juho asked.

“Actually, why don’t we call it a night?”

“Already?”

“Hello? It’s dark out? Besides, I’m freezing,” Wol said, rubbing his arms and shaking in an exaggerated manner. Contrary to Hyun Do and Yun Seo, there was no weight or dignity to his demeanor.

As Wol started sniffling, Juho said, “Well, that’s what you get for getting yourself wet in the middle of winter.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whew! It’s freezing!” Wol said, turning around and walking away.

“Mr. Kang! Wait!”

It was a rather sudden farewell. As Juho reached out his hand to grab him, he woke up. When he checked the time, it was just past 8:00 p.m. As reality came rushing back, Juho let out a deep sigh, rubbing his face. The dream had been nowhere near as helpful as he had hoped.

“I’m going back to sleep.”

Then, Juho drew the curtains and closed his eyes in the dark room. ‘I can do this,’ Juho thought to himself, breathing slowly. However, there was little to be done about his ears, which were even more sensitive than usual. The whirring refrigerator in the kitchen could be heard. On top of that, his feet started to itch, and his pillow became uncomfortable. In the end, Juho kicked the blanket off, tossing to and fro on the bed. After what felt like an eternity, Juho checked the time once again and realized that only ten minutes had passed. Wide awake, Juho stared at the ceiling. The lack of ventilation made the room very stuffy.

“Damn it.”

Feeling wide awake, Juho gave up trying to go back to sleep and dragged himself out of bed.

“The protagonist decided to kill his client.”

Underneath the sentence, was the plot of the story that Juho had organized. The protagonist had the ability to restore any goods to their pristine state, making them look like they had never been used before. Although he had never had a ‘client’ in his life, that client was also the person who would leave a flaw in the protagonist’s life that could never be erased. Upon killing his client, the protagonist witnessed their spirit floating away from the body. At which point, the protagonist came to realize what he had done. Juho imagined the life ahead of him.

“Will I be able to measure up to Mr. Kang?”

Then, Juho started writing. At the end of the narration, was a homeless man. The narrator was a young man who happened to be crossing the bridge at the time. Upon coming across the homeless man, the narrator started asking him questions, as if interviewing for a job. The narrator was in the habit of using coined terms. Being the young man that he was, he sported a waxy, spiky hairdo. Aside from being skilled at handling machines, he was well informed in current events, a university student and didn’t consider homeless people to be part of society.

“Why don’t you work?” the narrator asked, and the homeless man hung his head. “I said, why don’t you work? How is that you’re able to survive without even working?”

“I’m a sinner.”

“… People like you don’t deserve to be lucky.”

The homeless man remained silent, as if agreeing with the young man.

“Do you admit your wrongdoing?” the narrator asked light-heartedly.

“Yes, I do.”

Then, the narrator stooped down and took some change from the homeless man’s plastic bowl, putting it in his own pocket. At which point, the homeless man picked up the bowl and held it tightly against his chest.

“Tell me about your life,” the narrator said, genuinely curious. “I wanna know how I can be like you.”

Then, the homeless man looked up, revealed his rotten teeth, and said, “I killed a man.”

At that, the narrator backed away from the homeless man. They were on a bridge that stretched across the river. More specifically, on the sidewalk of the bridge, from where the water was visible to either side.

At that moment, Juho looked up, rested his chin on his hand, and immersed himself in thinking about:

“Will I be able to measure up to Mr. Kang?”

—

“Hello, Juho.”

“Mr. Woo.”

“Long time, no see.”

Upon walking into the office, Juho saw that Hyun Do was sitting next to the editor-in-chief, who sported a peculiar mustache. However, having been informed ahead of time that the editor-in-chief would be there, Juho wasn’t surprised to see him. He had a friendly smile that never seemed to leave his face.

“Indeed! Wish you could’ve joined us for lunch,” the editor-in-chief said, stroking his mustache.

“I’ve been busy,” Juho said, staring at the mustache on the editor-in-chief’s face and adding, “Once I’m done with this project, I’ll let you know. I promise.”

“Well, we’re just thankful that we got to work with such a talented writer like you, Mr. Woo,” the editor-in-chief replied, telling Juho about how well ‘The Crow’ was being received by the employees in the company, and Juho responded by chuckling awkwardly. All the while, Hyun Do drank his tea quietly.

“You know, Mr. Woo, I was reminded of just how good your reputation is when we had a reporter come to interview us recently.”

“Me?”

“Yes! How could a reporter come to us for an interview and not ask us about you?” the editor-in-chief asked, winking at Juho, who looked away awkwardly. Then, the editor-in-chief proceeded to tell Juho about the interview. While pretending to listen, Juho couldn’t help but focus on Hyun Do.

“Oh! I’m not intruding on you two, am I? Seems like you have something to discuss with Mr. Lim, Mr. Woo.”

“Oh, it’s nothing like that.”

“Took you long enough,” Hyun Do said. Juho looked at him, and he put his mug down and said, “You tend to get dangerously close to overstaying your welcome.”

“I apologize, Mr. Lim. It’s just that I enjoy talking to Mr. Woo so much that I lose track of time. Well, I better get going, then. Remember what we discussed, Mr. Lim.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll see you soon, Mr. Woo,” the editor-in-chief said.

“What? Oh, right…”

Winking at the young author again, the editor-in-chief left the office in no time, leaving the two authors alone. Then, Hyun Do started off, “So, what did he say?”

“Who?”

“Wol.”

Chuckling quietly, Juho replied, “He said that the manuscript was already complete, and that he wasn’t a moron.”

“Hm.”

“He said that he buried it in a cabbage patch?”

“Those are some helpful words, Wol,” Hyun Do said sarcastically, clicking his tongue. However, he didn’t necessarily look annoyed. In fact, he was smiling. Juho looked intently at him.

“So, what did you decide to do?” Hyun Do asked, looking toward Juho, who got straight to the point.

“I decided not to kill the protagonist,” Juho replied.

“And the client?”

“I’ll probably end up killing him off.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I need the character if I am to push the protagonist to cross the point of no return.”

“Why must you do that?”

“Because I wanna see the protagonist survive the crippling predicament.”

“How far did you get with the story?”

“I’ve started on the protagonist’s future.”

Then, Hyun Do nodded, saying, “Seems like things are going a lot smoother than I thought.”

“I got some help from Mrs. Baek.”

“You mean you drew it out of her.”

Nevertheless, the fact that Juho had received help from Yun Seo remained true.

“You said you’ve tried to finish the manuscript before, right, Mr. Lim?” Juho asked.

“That’s right,” Hyun Do replied.

“What was your story like?”

“What are you gonna do with the information?”

“It’ll be reference.”

“I’m not telling you.”

“I’m sorry?”

At that moment, Juho saw Wol’s face rush past, above Hyun Do. The stress from the dream seemed to have had an impact on the young author’s perception of reality. As Juho furrowed his brow, Hyun Do said, “You gotta write your own story.”

After remaining quiet for a little while, Juho asked, “Is it because it’s not finished? Is that why you’ll never show me the manuscript?”

“That’s part of it.”

“Seems to me that you’re not exactly in the position to give Mr. Kang a hard time, Mr. Lim,” Juho said, and Hyun Do chuckled quietly. Juho moved on to another question, “How did Mr. Kang come to accept that his life was coming to an end?”

After looking into the air for a brief moment, Hyun Do replied haphazardly, “I’m not sure.”

“You don’t know?”

“How would I?” Hyun Do said, locking eyes with Juho. At which point, Juho realized that Hyun Do had misunderstood the question, much like Yun Seo had.

“How did you come to accept Mr. Kang’s death, Mr. Lim?” Juho asked.

Picking up his mug, Hyun Do replied without drinking from it, “Up to the moment of his death, I tried to turn his last hours into writing, killing him off in all sorts of ways, be it meaninglessly, heroically, meaningfully, silently, agonizingly, or peacefully. Wol clung on to me with all kinds of looks on his face.”

Death tended to stir up negative, unhealthy thoughts, and an author’s thoughts were bound to turn into writing.

“But after he died, I couldn’t write a single word.”

“Because your imagination had come true?”

“No. I realized that I was exhausted. So, I took some time away from writing, and soon, I was able to get back on my feet and write,” Hyun Do said, murmuring, “I still can’t forget the moment when his spirit left him.”

At that, Juho looked up. With the exception of the unreleased manuscript, there had been no mention of spirits in Wol’s books.

‘I’m sure Mrs. Baek did something similar,’ Juho thought to himself while imagining her writing.

“That was my first time seeing a person die in front of me, but I gotta admit, it wasn’t all that special. Though, I had a hard time accepting it as reality back then.”

Hyun Do had been slowly accepting his friend’s death over the years. Although life was long, the moments within it were short-lived. Juho imagined Wol standing on the beach and looking out into the ocean as if he was frozen in place.

“Why don’t we go for a walk?” Hyun Do asked.

“I’m sorry?”

“I need to get some air.”

Initially opening his mouth as if he were about to say something, Juho rose from his seat instead of speaking a word. After walking around the office for some time, the two made a stop at a convenience store in order to buy some water.

“…”

Noticing the employee glancing over in Juho’s direction, Juho pulled his hat down. The employee seemed quite lazy, taking no interest in helping out his customers, his eyes fixed on the screen of his phone. As a faint swear came from the speaker of the phone, the employee burst into laughter out of nowhere. Juho studied the look on Hyun Do’s face as the older author calmly paid for the water.

“I don’t need a bag,” Hyun Do said as the employee was about to put the water bottle into a plastic bag.

To which, the employee mumbled, “M’kay,” not even bothering to enunciate his words.

“Thank you,” Hyun Do said, turning around.

“Yep,” the employee said haphazardly.

As Juho stood in a daze, Hyun Do asked, “Did you wanna get something? If you’re hungry, pick something. I’ll buy.”

“It’s OK.”

Although Juho wasn’t all that hungry, bringing business to a store whose employee was less than willing to help his customers was simply not appealing to the young author. Nodding calmly, Hyun Do opened the door, ringing the bell attached to it, which sounded louder than usual for some reason.

“What do you think he was talking about on the phone?”

“He was probably talking to a friend.”

“But he’s working, though.”

“He clearly doesn’t want to be.”

At that, Juho chuckled and said, “Well, as long as he keeps that up in front of his boss, he’ll get what he wants in no time.”

“Society is what ruins the individual,” Hyun Do said, opening the water bottle, which splashed all over the place and wet Hyun Do’s hands. “See? You can’t get water unless somebody sells it to you. In a manner of speaking, we give things value.”

“There’s a water fountain there.”

“You don’t get it,” Hyun Do said with a dry chuckle, which diffused the tension. As Juho followed Hyun Do, who was walking ahead, he saw a homeless man sitting in front of a large billboard sign, begging.

“Look at him… He’s such a fake…” somebody walking past him said. With a hook coming out of a sleeve, the homeless man seemed to be missing his hands. Although having heard the complaints coming from behind him, Juho didn’t feel a thing. In fact, he thought likewise. Once rush hour passed, the homeless man would probably pull his hands out of his sleeves and go back home in an imported car. For that reason, there was no reason to be generous to him.

“Do people like that even deserve to live?”