Great Novelist

There's a car on the road. He was on the main road in front of the house. Junsu was waiting for a car to come.

“Is that really all you need is a bucket of water? ”

He touches the water bottle that he put in his cloak pocket. I decided to climb the mountain. It's a local mountain near Yeonseo. It's not that high. I don't need a lot of supplies.

There was no particular reason to climb the mountain. I suddenly heard something. In other words, it was a memorial. All the writers of the club wrote about death, and the end and the beginning of the literary school finally entered production.

I had been holding on to the manuscript for a month, so I expected the last time I wrote. It was because there was a mountain behind it that was famous for writing for a long time.

The reason why this literary enthusiasm is getting explosive attention is because she has published an unusual novel and has been published no more than annually. I remembered the black clothes. I've been writing for a while.

The horn rings. You look up and see a familiar car standing in front of you. Inside there was Junsu who held the wheel.

“You don't even know what you're thinking? ”

“No, it's been a long time. ”

He got into Junsu's car. Meeting with him is the first time since the meeting. In the meantime, he turned off his phone and wrote only. Inside was no different from then. However, I was in the back seat at the time, so the feeling was different from the time I was in the passenger seat.

“That day, I went in comfortably. ”

He recalled the last day in Junsu's car. Junsu said with a good looking smile.

“Good. How's the writing? Did you find anything satisfactory? ”

He asked me immediately if I was curious about his writing. He was also interested, so he didn't change the subject.

“I can't divulge information to the enemy. ”

Of course, he didn't give me the information easily.

“Oh, no. That doesn't work. ”

Compliance failed, but drove a car with integrity. He looked out the window for a moment and opened his mouth.

“What about the other authors' information? Have you heard anything? ”

“I don't know the details, but I know the news about Choi. ”

“Writer Choi has been beaten. ”

His confident face automatically popped into my head. He released the common theme of death as a romantic novelist. His writing style of crossing the boundaries of reason and emotion between an individual and another was already well-known.

“The story of the two people who went on a trip was a big story, right? ”

“That's right."

“Is it some kind of thriller-inspired romance? If you're a writer, you'd be pretty good at it. ”

“Only when the magazine comes out. Except death was planted all over the place. ”

There are more destinations related to death than I thought.

“A House of the Dead is enough for a Great Person to live on. ”

“I think the death written by Choi must be fresh. ”

“It's a little strange that death is so fresh. ”

“He's good at making things weird. ”

I did not read it myself, but it seemed interesting enough. He asked him to bend the handle.

“What novel did you write? ”

The body shifts slightly to the left, then returns to its place. He was a horse.

“The most popular writer of the day, Bonjoong. ”

Junsu's good smile cracked. I don't think I've ever seen him frown. It was a difficult face.

“I don't think I've ever heard that before. ”

His book is on the air. The Great Reading Council, a program that was a fluke in viewership. Before that, the books that were introduced in the broadcast became the best sellers. But every book written by this explosive author is backing up its sales rank.

Nothing happened. Readers cheered for the appearance of an unfortunate, unknown talented writer. His elaborate sentences and poetic stories quickly became popular and sold. Weekly bestsellers were currently accounted for by coincidence and adherence.

“I remember the thunder of that day. This is especially responsive, isn't it? ”

“Yes. When I wrote the book, it was buried by coincidence. ”

He was strangely engaged in the timing of his book, giving him relatively little attention. But now it's different. His book finally shines. He puts his book right behind the tally book, which is firmly guarding first place. Winning a coincidence in the weekly aggregate.

“You were confident it was the ninth book. That's amazing.”

“Right? I'm right with the three. ”

He lightly bounced the wheel three times. He recalled the headline of an article he had recently seen.

“Coincidentally, I'm overwhelmed by the readiness of the writers. What do you think?”

“Well, I think it's a stimulating title. It's not very convincing. Whoever that reporter is, he's not the one who saw you. ”

An honest answer, then said with a good smile.

“Maybe that's not entirely true. ”

I had a completely different look on my face. He must be bleeding in front of the painting, too.

“I can tell for sure whether the stimulating article is right or wrong this time. ”

Junsu smiled quietly.

“You're so centered. I can't shake it at all. ”

“Not really. While I was writing, I couldn't help but wonder what other writers were writing. I was also very curious about Junsu's writing. ”

So I need you to tell me. He sighed and opened his mouth as if there was nothing he could do about it.

“I'm writing a story about power. ”

“There's a lot of power in the world. ”

“Politics, among other things. He wrote the life of a sociopath who wielded national power. ”

National power. Society. They were very clear words.

“Are you talking about resisting? ”

“No.”

“It's not a fight? ”

“Yes. One swing at a time. I can't fight him. ”

“Will the socialites die? ”

“I'm not dying. No one will die in this article. You don't have to do that. ”

The car stops. It passes by the house of the book and is in front of the mountain.

“Freedom and rights are already dead. ”

Heavy and serious. Individual freedom and national power. I'm trying to put the balance between the two to the letter.

“That's irritating.”

“Death is like that. ”

He loosened his seat belt. I was getting out of the car, and he asked me.

“Am I still the enemy? I told you everything. ”

“Of course. It just turned out to be a more dangerous enemy. ”

“I'm disappointed. You don't give me any small information? ”

He opened the door. Fresh air enters the car. I decided to show a little compassion.

“You and I are the opposite. ”

“What if I don't?”

There was no state or power in his writings. It doesn't have a magnificent background. It's just...

“It's about a man dying. ”

Simple. I took off all the awkward ornaments and just put them away. Such stories can be blatantly revealed. What a writer's skills, emotions, thoughts, goals, and wants to say. I don't know if it's a lame story with nothing, or an article that can shake the readers' feelings.

C. But I wrote it down first.

I looked at compliance and said:

“Anyway, I worked hard. ”

He got out of the car. Compliance stayed in the car for parking, and Australia decided to go inside first. Junsu, who was left alone in the car after sending him, laughed nonsense, reviewing the words left by the young novelist.

“Scariest thing I ever heard was how hard he worked. ”

I bounced the wheel three times with my hand.

“Hello."

He greeted the speaker from the mountain entrance. She was dressed as a simple climber. I smiled and welcomed him as I always have.

“I have one too. ”

Next to him, the worker waves his hand with his dying face. I saw a stain that was forcibly pulled out.

“You said you were having fun with the kids. ”

“Yes. It's well known, right? ”

It was widely known because of faith. Writers come together to write literature magazines. There are coincidences and students in the book. They're all very hands-on writers.

“The rain was about to go to the ground. You said you didn't know what to write amongst them. ”

“Teacher, it wasn't that bad. ”

He was unclean, but he still couldn't sleep, given the shade under his eyes.

“But you wrote it all the way down. ”

“Fortunately. Otherwise, he'd still be stuck in his room. ”

He was very persuasive because he was facing down right now. Then I parked near the entrance and said, looking at Junsu who came back.

“Junsu, you must be happy to be famous. ”

The speaker smiled brightly and said.

“Of course. That's what happens when you're a good person. I just bought a cake and partied. ”

“I knew you'd do well. ”

Teachers and alumni were genuinely celebrating his success. Junsu had a fabulous look on his face and was filled with nuances that the situation was unfamiliar.

“Oh, I want to be famous too. ”

He shouted very frankly. I was full of sincerity. Even when I said that, Lord asked me, because I looked very tired.

“Are you able to climb today? ”

“Don't underestimate my physical strength. ”

So the four of you set foot on the back mountain of the town. I stepped off the sidewalk just before walking past the playground with the exercise equipment and climbed a steep staircase. He looked at the three people who were going up ahead. Working and compliance were improving accordingly.

C. Specifically, the speaker was skillfully climbing the mountain in front of the man. Her stamina was dazzling.

There is a boulder protruding from the middle of the stairs. Instead of a staircase, people climb up the mountain over the rocky surface. The roots on the side of the tree wear on the person's feet and lose their unique pattern.

The mountain during the day showed its appearance unfiltered. There were broken branches and plastic bags blown by the wind. I stepped aside for a moment for the climber coming down from above and started climbing again.

“You're coming up, right? ”

“Yes, don't worry. ”

In response to the speaker's question, he empowered the ship. The sign in the middle kindly explains what happens when you cross this hill.

“If you go here, you'll get a temple, and on the day Buddha comes, you'll have a banquet. ”

Junsu told me that the stew was also delicious. I could see that three people visited here frequently. After climbing up a little, you can see the neighborhood through the trees. It's small. The buildings are smaller than baby nails. It's less than a dog, moving its feet and seeing it.

I heard the voice of the speaker in front of me.

“Need a little rest? ”

It was at the foot of a mountain. There were many places to sit, made of stones and rocks. There was a man selling ice cream or a woman selling cupcakes everywhere, and people were resting from the summit or going up to the summit.

End and Begin (1) End

lim Han-baek