Chapter 15: The First True Fan

Wow, unbelievably, Godaesik—the guy known among the kids as the novel fanatic—is reading my novel.

Speaking of Godaesik.

During class, break time, even lunch, he never put down his novel.

Whether on the bus or walking down the street, the guy was always reading.

He was more obsessed than a test prep student studying for exams.

Sometimes he would even skip meals just to read.

I guess novels were more important to him than food.

But how does he stay so plump with all that skipping?

It's quite a mystery.

“Daesik, did you borrow that from the rental store...?”

But wait, that's strange.

This just came out today, so how does he already have it in his hands?

“Only the diligent survive in this harsh world.”

No, buddy, that’s not the time to say that.

And why the tone like that?!

Anyway, he was a peculiar kid.

“Amazing. You really just came back from the rental store?”

“Hehe.”

That obnoxious victorious smile.

At that point, I had to admit defeat.

“Rental store? I went to the bookstore.”

“Huh?”

“Took a taxi to the bookstore and bought it.”

“.........”

This kid… he’s for real.

“When?”

“Lunch is a luxury that wastes time.”

Ha, haha....

I was impressed by his madness.

Now that I look, he didn’t have a lunch bag at his seat.

It seems like he planned from the start to use lunch break to go to a bookstore two kilometers away.

“...But do you understand what you’re reading? There’s economic stuff and all.”

Even though this novel minimized technical terms to be beginner-friendly, it wasn’t exactly easy enough for kids who haven’t even gotten their ID cards yet.

To truly connect with the story, you need at least a basic grasp of economic flow to avoid confusion.

At least, that’s what I thought.

That’s why most readers of economy-related novels tend to be in their 40s and 50s rather than teenagers or people in their twenties.

Just my guess, but I doubt it’s far off.

Even in this class, no one really cared about economics or business.

They were all the type who thought money just magically appeared when asking their parents.

“Oh, so you’re reading this deep novel too?”

What’s with that look, like he found a kindred spirit?

There’s something chilling about it....

“Ahem. There’s no way I understand all this deep stuff.”

“Ha, haha. Right...?”

What’s with that tone?

I can’t get used to it.

Was Godaesik always like this?

I tried digging through memories of my past life, but the name Godaesik was unfamiliar.

I have no idea why such a unique character wasn’t remembered.

“Then isn’t it boring? Does it even hold your interest?”

No matter the book, you have to know the meaning of words to read smoothly.

If you don’t, the flow breaks.

“What kind of textbook do you think this is? Read it for fun, not for understanding. Do you know all the words or history when you watch a historical drama?”

Everyone was giving me a look like, “What nonsense are you talking about?”

“Ah... that’s true?!”

I was convinced. Felt like I got punched.

I never thought I’d hear that kind of logic from Daesik.

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Then, do you know why this novel’s fun?”

Gripping my chest nervously, I blurted out the question.

I was curious what a fifteen-year-old like Godaesik found entertaining about my work.

“The main character’s totally my style. Like me. Doing whatever he wants without caring what others think.”

Ha, haha......

That’s unique, really unique.

“And of course, his genius mental calculation and memory are something else. And then he’s manipulating people with words floating in the air, especially his ability to predict the future! It’s seriously cool. Could you guys figure out a country’s situation just from the word ‘war’?”

“......”

“I literally slapped my forehead, you know?”

This kid definitely has otaku tendencies.

He’s completely immersed in the protagonist from my novel.

But I found myself getting drawn into his words.

“We couldn’t do that. We’re just ten years old. How could we? The protagonist’s a total madman. He calls a guy he just met his dad right away. Plus, the story moves so fast there’s no frustration reading it—that’s the charm of this novel. You guys should read this instead of those comic books.”

Hey, hey.

A kid who reads novels during class doesn’t have much credibility saying that.

But that was similar to the reviews I’d received.

If someone like Godaesik rates it that way, the market value is already proven.

I felt a little of the lingering anxiety disappear.

“Daesik, thanks.”

Good kid!

I’m definitely going to take good care of Daesik from now on.

“For what?”

Even his furrowed brow looked cute now.

And those chubby cheeks, too.

“For that. Enjoy it, and lend it to me too.”

Godaesik reminded me again of the most important thing when writing a novel.

That is, fun.

If it’s fun, everything else falls into place.

“Tsk tsk, you’re supposed to buy books with your own money, not just borrow them. Got it? So buy it.”

“Hehe, hahaha. Yeah, got it. Thanks. You’re legit, dude.”

“Legit???”

I burst out laughing at Daesik’s misunderstanding of the outdated slang “legit” as if I was calling him a loser.

Whether Daesik understood it or not, he was a true hardcore reader.

Thanks to Daesik and the rental store owner, my confidence soared.

“Daesik, what’s your secret to being good at math? Which academy do you go to?”

Just as our conversation ended, a kid who’d been waiting to ask finally spoke up.

Here’s the weird part.

Daesik was good at math.

I’d never seen him study, but he was incredibly skilled.

“Well, math is about memorizing and trying to understand. Then it gets easy.”

Huh.

‘...Crazy.’

Hangeol used that line on his friend exactly as it was.

Definitely a kid with a solid character.

“Still, today...”

What a cheerful day.

Also perfect weather for writing.

Swaaaaaa!

Rain poured from the clear sky. The cool wind cleared my head.

“This is nice.”

As a writer, being recognized by readers is immensely joyful and honorable.

Listening to Daesik’s endless chatter, I quietly gazed at the sky.

Mideum Publishing Group’s subsidiary, Mideum Publishing.

Drrrrring.

From morning, Mideum Publishing had no time to rest with the phone ringing nonstop.

“Yes, one more copy. Yes, yes. I’ll check and get back to you right away.”

Drrrrring.

“Yes, this is Junior Manager Oh Ju-seon from Mideum. Additional order for Genius Adoption. Thank you. I’ll contact you right away.”

Drrrrring....

Hang up and it rings again. Put it down, and it rings again.

It felt like the whole day would be spent just answering calls.

It had become a completely normal occurrence.

“Phew, why are there so many calls?”

It had been a long time since I thought I might die from answering the phone.

On the bulletin board, these comments were posted.

[Bulletin Board.]

Spicy Sauce: Learning economics while reading the novel. Didn’t expect a modern economy novel to be this fun. Author, please keep up the good work. Cheering for you!

Mulpaseu: Writer, let’s go for 20 volumes. No, let’s just write until you die.

Financial Man: Damn, feeling seriously self-conscious. Did you make this novel to target me? If so, you’re a genius!

Office Worker: If I had a son like Hangeol, I’d raise him even if it broke my back. My son... do I need to feed him chicken soup?

Loser: You bastard, you have money and I don’t! Stocks are supposed to be hard... Jealous.

Assassin: Memorize and understand? Should I kill you? Writer, hurry up with volume 3. Then I might spare you.

“...The bulletin board reactions speak for themselves.”

Honestly, I was surprised.

A work I doubted would sell this well was receiving such enthusiastic attention.

“If the novel people are reading now was written by a fifteen-year-old, what kind of expressions would they make?”

I shook my head, not wanting to dwell on it and feel self-pity.

When I was in middle school, I wasn’t writing but playing with friends or studying under parental pressure.

Many helped with farm work instead of studying.

No one was writing.

At most, they wrote diaries or scribbled words on the blackboard.

“Let’s just tell the PD about the reprint.”

I never imagined it would reach the point of a reprint.

Markets were unpredictable.

“What? Already a reprint? All 5,000 copies sold out?!”

The PD’s mouth dropped open.

No wonder— a fifteen-year-old rookie writer selling out 5,000 copies in a short time.

Even veteran professionals rarely hit those numbers.

“All those calls from before...?”

“Yes, I’m thinking of switching to telemarketing. I keep hearing phantom voices telling me to order books.”

“Haha, that just means the company’s doing well. Who knows, if this blows up, maybe we’ll get bonuses.”

“Even without bonuses, I just want to work comfortably.”

Fighting with words every day was exhausting enough,

and now the phone was attacking too. I felt completely drained.

“So, you don’t want to take the calls?”

“Of course not. I only trust the PD.”

I smiled as I answered.

“Okay, proceed with the 5,000-copy reprint. And print 10,000 copies of volume 3. I’ll report that to upper management separately.”

“Total chaos.”

In 1999’s paper book market, even considering rental store effects, 10,000 copies was a jackpot.

You could feel the rookie author’s value rising.

“Let the author know and ask how many volumes they plan to write.”

“Phew.”

“And draft the contract for the next work in advance.”

“Already?”

“Gotta lock them down before their value increases more.”

Indeed, a monstrous rookie like this was rare.

Writing at this level at middle school age, how much will they grow later?

There was no harm in securing them early.

“What about contract terms?”

“You know the answer.”

It meant ‘proceed without changes.’

The next day was Sunday. The writer’s parents would likely be home too. Perfect timing.

“I’ll visit tomorrow and report on Monday.”

“Okay.”

After finishing the report, I checked the time.

11:20 AM.

Still no one at the author’s house.

It seemed right to call around 5 PM, so I planned to call then.

Drrrrring!

Only for a moment.

“......”

The previously quiet phone began ringing again.

No wonder it was so quiet earlier.

I had a strong urge to just unplug the line.