Chapter 264 - Side Story. “Revision” (2)
Chapter 264: Side Story. “Revision” (2)
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tls123?
Jaehwan stared at the ID in the email address for a long while before asking again.
“Who is this?”
“I don’t know.”
“What?”
“They just appeared in the industry like a comet about a year ago.”
Jaehwan frowned at Yoonhwan, who scratched his chin awkwardly.
Nobody knew who the person really was. How was he supposed to trust someone like that with his work?
“So, to put it simply...”
According to Yoonhwan, tls123 had become a kind of “lottery ticket” among writers over the past year.
They had a reputation for dropping enormous donations onto novels that had been completed long ago, or works with low view counts but a reputation for strong prose. Yoonhwan said there were even plenty of writers who kept serializing despite poor numbers in hopes of being chosen by tls123.
“At first, people talked a lot about who they were. Some rumors said they were some newly rich person who hit it big with stocks or crypto, and others said they were a third-generation chaebol heir. This is the first time I’ve heard they make revised-edition offers, though... Still, the terms might not be bad. They don’t seem like someone fixated on money.”
That much was true. If someone was freely tossing around huge sponsorships, they would not be contacting works based on profitability alone. If the goal had been to make money, this was the kind of novel they should never have contacted in the first place.
That only made it harder to understand.
Why his novel, of all things?
“Maybe your story moved them in some special way. The view count dropped off a lot later, but it got attention in the beginning.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Why? Back when I met rookie writers, some of them used to ask if I knew you.”
“They asked you? Why?”
“Our names are in your novel.”
Come to think of it, that was true.
All at once, Jaehwan felt again just how far the story he had written had drifted away from him. A prickling sensation ran through his fingertips. Old emotions welled up, and one corner of his chest ached.
At one time, that story had been everything to him.
What was it now?
“Your contract period with your company is over anyway.”
“That’s true.”
“That’s why I’m saying this. I don’t know what tls123 is thinking, but if they’re trying to recruit your work because they want to start some kind of management company, this could be an opportunity.”
“You said I was supposed to move to your company once my contract ended.”
“Hey, hey, that was just something I said. Honestly, our company’s sales capacity is a mess, so how could I ask you to join us...”
“Kim Yoonhwan.”
It was Seoyul who cut him off. Startled, Yoonhwan stopped talking and turned toward her. He wondered if Seoyul was angry because he had gone off on some pointless tangent, but the expression visible beyond the partition was odd.
“Come here for a second. You too, Jaehwan.”
Jaehwan and Yoonhwan obediently got up and went over to Seoyul.
The last time Seoyul had made a declaration with such a grave face was after facing the Death Knight on the seventy-sixth floor of 《Tower of Nightmares》.
As if aiming a sword at the Death Knight, Seoyul pointed at the monitor with a finger.
“Look at this.”
There was no Death Knight there. But there was a sentence just as shocking.
―There is a work I would like to publish in a revised edition. I would like your company to republish it.
Yoonhwan stared blankly at the monitor, then took the mouse from Seoyul and checked the sender’s name.
―tls123.
* * *
For about the next thirty minutes, Seoyul and Yoonhwan argued heatedly.
“No matter how I think about it, I don’t get it. They’re offering to do this without getting anything in return?”
“We’re not going to reply right away, are we?”
“We should reply as fast as possible. It’ll be a problem if they suddenly change their mind.”
Letting out a light sigh, Yoonhwan rummaged through the desk, pulled out a vitamin drink, drank it, and sat back down in front of Jaehwan.
“Jaehwan, let’s summarize the situation first.”
True to his background as a former secretary of 「Rupture」, Yoonhwan organized the situation quickly.
To give the conclusion first, tls123’s proposal was this:
“Please publish a revised edition of ‘The World After the Fall.’”
That was the first point.
“And if our management company publishes the revised edition, tls123 will personally pay one hundred percent of all costs.”
That was the second.
Those two conditions alone were already extraordinary, but tls123 did not even ask for OSMU rights, in other words, the rights to secondary derivative works.
In other words, they were declaring that they would invest money in this work and receive absolutely nothing in return.
Seoyul asked uneasily, “Could this be illegal money or something? Who makes an offer like this?”
“Why would someone invest dirty money in us? If anything, they’d convert it into safe assets.”
“Then what exactly is this person after?”
“Maybe they’re a fan of Jaehwan.”
“No, that... I mean... no, well, I guess that’s possible...”
As Seoyul trailed off, Jaehwan shook his head.
“You don’t have to worry about my feelings.”
Honestly, even Jaehwan thought his novel was not an outstanding work. It was dull, too serious, its ideas were outdated, and its structure had been swallowed by its message. It was not even especially reader-friendly in form, so aside from a tiny handful of diehard readers, it was a novel that few had read all the way to the end.
Yoonhwan patted Jaehwan on the shoulder as he spoke.
“If there are a hundred readers, there are a hundred life-changing favorites. Anyway, this is a huge opportunity. For you, Jaehwan, and for us.”
For Yoonhwan and Seoyul, who were running a newly established management company, it was hard to refuse. Honestly, no sane person would make such a ridiculous offer.
And yet that offer had come.
“I don’t think it’d be bad to at least talk to them. It’s strange since there’s nothing in it for them at all, but still...”
That was when Yoonhwan’s smartphone vibrated.
―This is the advance payment.
Astonishingly, an advance had already been deposited into the management company account. At this point, it really stopped feeling like a joke.
Yoonhwan stared at the amount in the account for a long time, then turned the screen toward Jaehwan.
“Jaehwan. Let me ask you just this once.”
“...”
“I know how stressful it is to go back and rework something you wrote before. But this really is an incredible opportunity. The fact that they’re making this offer without asking for anything in return...”
“It’s not that there’s nothing in return.”
Jaehwan’s voice was calm.
He pointed to the postscript written at the bottom of the email.
―However, I do not want a revision that merely corrects typos or omissions. The revised edition must contain completely “new content.”
Adding content itself was not much of a problem. Jaehwan too had left out quite a few things while reconstructing his memories, and there had been times when he thought he would like to add more someday if he ever got the chance.
The problem was the sentence after that.
―There is no need to change the ending or the theme. However, there is content that absolutely must be included in the story. In the episode I specify, your novel must cross over with the Worldview of the novel I specify.
A Worldview crossover.
He had heard that writers who were close sometimes merged the Worldviews of their novels and worked together. But this was the first time a crossover proposal had come in like this.
Put simply, tls123’s condition was the following.
If he published a revised edition of ‘The World After the Fall,’ tls123 would provide the production costs and the advance royalties. In return, he had to do a “collaboration” with the novel tls123 wanted.
“What novel are they telling me to collaborate with? Are they asking for some kind of advertisement?”
It was not an especially pleasant proposal. Put another way, they were offering money and telling him to insert the content they wanted into the story. It was no different from taking advertising money to put in product placement.
But after checking the title of the “crossover novel” tls123 had proposed, Yoonhwan’s expression turned strange.
“Uh... this novel is...”
Yoonhwan opened the platform and found the novel tls123 had mentioned.
Jaehwan stared at the title as if he were glaring at an unknown life-form. It felt like a title he had heard somewhere before. He read the novel’s description.
―Only I know the ending of this world.
Jaehwan frowned.
This was obviously some regression novel.
“So all I have to do is advertise this novel?”
“Well, I don’t know if ‘advertise’ is the right word. Maybe if it were the other way around.”
Jaehwan looked at him as if asking what that meant, and Yoonhwan scratched his cheek awkwardly before answering.
“This one sold way better than your novel, Jaehwan.”
* * *
In the end, Jaehwan decided to accept tls123’s offer.
When he signaled that he was willing to agree to the contract, tls123 sent over the specific conditions.
―Please add one episode, and use some of that novel’s material.
―We will provide the material to be used.
―There is no need to read the novel. You only need to place the provided material appropriately.
The part about not needing to read the crossover novel was a relief. Putting his pride aside, it was not something he particularly wanted to do anyway.
In fact, he had roughly skimmed the first few chapters, and it was an irritating story about a reader who happened to be reading a novel with a single view count and then went on to thrive in an apocalypse world without much effort.
On top of that, the reader’s name was Kim Dokja. What kind of name was that? And the novel that guy was reading was a regression story. Just as Jaehwan had expected.
―Hey, you used to like regression novels. This worked out great!
Jaehwan glared at Yoonhwan like he was asking what kind of nonsense that was, then immediately began writing. He was already on a break from work anyway, and he had received the advance royalties. Once he had made up his mind, there was no reason to delay any further.
―So that is the decision you made, Jaehwan-gun.
Teacher encouraged Jaehwan’s choice over the phone as well.
―What Jaehwan-gun ultimately wishes to do may be something impossible through only a single story. In that sense, this proposal may not be a bad thing for Jaehwan-gun either.
―My account balance was just running low.
―Ha ha, Jaehwan-gun really is...
To make up for the mistakes in the first draft, Jaehwan listened to as many people’s opinions as possible. He listened to Professor Sakamoto and Teacher talk about their dreams, and sometimes referred to Yoonhwan and Seoyul’s advice as well. He also looked back through the notes that had come to him over the past six years.
Even around the time the materials had started to come together, Jaehwan thought the revision work would be over quickly.
Adding one episode should be easy enough.
Of course, that thought shattered completely by the seventh day of working on the revised edition.
In a way, writing a revised edition was more difficult and more frustrating than writing a new manuscript. The first draft he had written six years ago was a complete mess, full of holes here and there, but even so, it had somehow become a finished story.
A tower miraculously built by mending and remending ragged memories. A precarious game of Jenga in which pulling out one sentence wrong could bring the whole thing crashing down.
‘This is no joke.’
That did not mean he could simply rewrite every sentence from the beginning. No matter how flawed the work was, it was still the story he had lived.
But the longer he kept looking at that story, the more his confidence began to erode.
Was there really any meaning in sending this story back out into the world now?
His novel was no longer new. In the meantime, countless other stories had come out. Stories better than his own life, more astonishing, more filled with wonder.
The System had named his revolution trite and outdated.
Could a story like this really change the world?
He had kept writing steadily for six years, but he still was not a great novelist. His one strength was grit. The grit with which he had repeated Stab for ten years, for twenty.
Jaehwan remembered the day he had first practiced Stab.
It was a time when everyone tried to stop him, and some even laughed at him. Even now, Jaehwan had not forgotten the looks on their faces when the Stab he had honed pierced empty air, pierced monsters, and at last tore open even the ceiling of the Tower.
If only he had enough time, maybe someday he could write a good novel.
The problem was that he did not have that kind of time.
‘I will die.’
The System of this world had taken immortality away from humans. That made time a limited resource for him. He had no leisure to spend a hundred years or two hundred years repeating Stab, and Jaehwan knew that even if he trained his sentences that way, his sentences still would not be able to tear apart the world, or tear apart the universe.
Even so, if he could change even the world of just one person.
With that thought, Jaehwan took hold of the keyboard. He subjected his own sentences to Doubt, and wrote that Doubt into them. He sought Understanding in what he wrote, forgot that Understanding, and built new sentences again. He used one sentence as Proof for another, and repeated the work of Editing what he had proven.
As he wrote and wrote again, Jaehwan lived that life once more. He recreated memories he had forgotten and brought back time that had vanished. Within the sentences he wrote, Cheongheo, Karlton, Sirwen, and Runald fought together. They wept, or laughed.
As that kind of life continued, fatigue naturally piled up, and there were many days when he suddenly fell asleep in the middle of writing.
On nights when Jaehwan fell asleep at his desk, his even breathing quietly keeping time with the blinking cursor, he never noticed the faint sparks leaping above it.
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