Chapter 130: Epic saga

Paradise Lake is located between downtown LA and Santa Monica.

With an area spanning 1,380 acres, this lake is primarily used as a source of drinking water for the citizens of Los Angeles. Additionally, the northern part of Paradise Lake is considered a famous spot for various recreational activities. On the weekends, the area becomes bustling with local residents who enjoy fishing from their boats. During the sunny summer months, a swimming area opens up as an alternative to the ocean, and during the vacation season, it becomes incredibly lively with families visiting for leisure.

That is not all. The lake’s water is sent through an underground tunnel to the nearby Lake Keestake to be used for hydroelectric power. In short, it is the lifeline and a precious treasure of LA.

At the southernmost point of the lake, there is a plot of land surrounded by dense forest where people rarely venture and no proper roads exist. It is a place so wild that an outsider wouldn't even dare enter, fearing a wild bear might jump out at any moment.

If you pass through the towering birch trees and reach the water's edge, you will find a cabin built in a way that makes you wonder, 'Does someone actually live here?'

The two-story cabin was built atop oak trees. Looking like a simple shelter from afar, a closer look reveals a sophisticated design that offers a cozy atmosphere reminiscent of the cartoon *Winnie the Pooh*.

The owner who built that cabin, George Martins, woke up early today and was sitting on the first-floor stair landing, drinking his morning coffee.

"Hmm. The coffee beans roasted quite well today."

A coffee lover, George grew Panama Geisha coffee trees indoors. He harvested the beans himself, roasted them with great care every morning, and brewed them using the drip method. Even though he roasted the beans at the same time and speed every day, the results were always different, which gave him a headache. In reality, he could drink as much of any coffee he wanted if he simply left the cabin.

George had already lived this way for nearly 4 years.

George, the original author of *A Song of Fire and Wind*, headed straight for the storage room after finishing his morning coffee. There was work to be done while his mind was at its clearest.

He took down an 1855 style Colt revolver rifle hanging on the wall and began to disassemble it. He performed this maintenance consistently every week to prepare for the occasional wild boar or deer that appeared. After wiping the exterior clean with an imported cloth, George used FireClean to meticulously remove any residue remaining in the barrel.

After storing the firearm back in its place, he grabbed one of the fishing rods hanging next to it and stepped outside.

In Paradise Lake, trout, catfish, and striped bass were the primary catches. George had brought out a colorful lure today to catch some trout for grilling. After firmly setting up his lure fishing gear, he sat down at his personal fishing spot and cast his line.

From here on, it was a test of patience. Recently, the number of fish had decreased significantly compared to before because more fishermen were taking boats down to the southern end of Paradise Lake. Of course, George only needed to catch one fish to satisfy himself.

He cast his line leisurely and waited.

10 minutes, 20 minutes, 30 minutes... As the wait continued for nearly 1 hour, George became anxious.

'If I don't catch a trout today, what will I eat for my meal?'

Fidgeting and driven by anxiety, George felt a sharp pang in his chest. He hurriedly pulled a translucent orange pill bottle from his vest pocket. After tossing two stabilizer pills into his mouth, George quietly closed his eyes.

Soon, his restless heart calmed down, and the sound of sparrows chirping filled his ears. The sound of leaves rustling, the wind brushing against the ripples of the water, and even the movement of grass insects could be heard in the silence.

"Phew."

Having found his composure, George pulled out his smartphone. Normally, he avoided looking at his smartphone as much as possible, only using a prepaid phone for urgent calls. However, on days like today when he felt relatively at peace, there was something he never forgot to check.

Entering "Reddit," the largest community site in the United States, George searched for his own name and *A Song of Fire and Wind* as he always did.

— When the hell is this George bastard going to release the final volume?
   ㄴ lol you’re still waiting for that? You’ve got big dreams.
   ㄴㄴ He’s probably cooped up in an LA mansion enjoying life. He must have made billions just from the royalties.
— It’s wiser to just binge-watch *Kingdom Game* than waste time looking for Lazy George.
— Whatever the case, just give us an ending!
— I believe in George. I’m looking forward to it like crazy.

Amidst the chaos of positive and negative opinions, George simply let out a deep sigh. Even though the stabilizers were doing their job of managing his turbulent heart, he couldn't stop the hollow cries echoing from somewhere.

'So, George. How are you going to end this epic saga?'

George, who had earned billions—no, tens of billions—with *A Song of Fire and Wind*, initially bought a mansion in the Hollywood mainstream and lived luxuriously. The act of turning the world inside his head into writing and providing satisfaction to people was truly thrilling and ecstatic.

However, as the story raced toward its conclusion, George became terrified.

'Can I really produce an ending that satisfies everyone?'

The world he had built must have already branched out into tens of millions of different paths in the minds of tens of millions of people. Facing the work on the final volume, George had suffered from severe social anxiety and panic disorder, which was why he moved his residence here.

All the land within a 5-kilometer radius belonged to George. Aside from the publishing staff and the *Kingdom Game* production crew who occasionally visited him, the delivery person who brought him food was the only person he faced.

"George!"

While he was floundering in the digital world, the familiar face of the delivery person appeared. Arriving on a motorcycle, he gave George a light hug and handed over a package filled with papers.

"What is this?"

"It’s from TBO Studios. They asked for it to be sent by express, so I rushed right over."

George thought back to the wild boar meat he had eaten with Samantha the day before yesterday. He had frozen the boar he hunted a week ago and had a barbecue with her. He remembered casually asking Samantha then how he should end *A Song of Fire and Wind*.

'Did she send an answer in just 2 days?'

If it was the inherently impatient Samantha, it was possible. He also remembered when Samantha had come to see him 10 years ago, saying she wanted to make a drama out of *A Song of Fire and Wind*. At that time, George had asked Samantha who she thought the mother of the protagonist and bastard son, Jon, was. Samantha’s answer had been satisfying enough that he permitted the production of the drama.

He couldn't help but expect a fairly plausible answer, just like back then.

"What is all this?"

But rather than an answer, the package from TBO contained reviews of *A Song of Fire and Wind* from people all over the world. The reviews written by readers in countries he had never even visited were roughly translated into English from their native languages.

Looking at those clumsy reviews—or perhaps, facing worlds even more vast than the one he had created thus far—George couldn't help but be struck with admiration. This was because they were filled with the wishes and support of "true fans" who respected the author and this world, rather than the criticism for the sake of criticism found on Reddit.

'Heh. This is actually quite moving.'

Without even noticing his fishing rod sinking deep into the water, George was falling deeper into the sincerity of a single fan.

***

"Where is that cutie from Korea?!"

Samantha shouted as she kicked open the door to the conference room. Lee Junghyuk, who had been faithfully taking notes on the meeting where people were fighting like dogs as usual, flinched as if a bolt of lightning had struck and looked at Samantha.

"You're right here!"

Discovering Lee Junghyuk, Samantha walked straight over, grabbed his right hand, and thrust it into the air. She looked as moved as a champion who had finally seized the title.

"Listen up, you trash! Thanks to the answer this friend sent, we hear that the original author, George, is very satisfied."

"Whoa. Really?"

"What did he say to satisfy George?"

"Wow. As expected of a monster rookie. He pulled it off again."

For those who were exhausted from the previous day’s commotion, it was quite the hit of dopamine. Of course, even more dopamine-inducing news followed.

"Junghyuk. Is there anything you want? Just say it. I'll give you anything."

"Wow."

The crowd gathered around hummed at the news that Samantha would grant Lee Junghyuk a wish. This was because "Samantha’s Wish" was a special term within TBO Studios, an enormous privilege known to every single employee.

In fact, during the mission Samantha set last year—'Who can come up with the most fresh ideas for this episode'—Michael, who had drafted seventeen versions of the story for a single episode, had snatched the winning title. According to legend, the wish Michael asked for was a supercar.

Even though they lived, ate, and worked in this TBO Studios village and had no need for a car, there was a rumor that Michael received a yellow Ferrari as a gift from Samantha and drove around downtown LA for two days straight. There were also stories about someone receiving a house or a dinner with their favorite actor.

Because of this, everyone's attention was hyper-focused on what kind of wish Lee Junghyuk would make.

"Hmm. Let's see. I don't really need anything in particular."

As Lee Junghyuk looked at the sparkling eyes of the people, something suddenly crossed his mind.

"Ah. Now that I think about it, there is one favor I'd like to ask."

***

Since I would have to return to Korea soon, I didn't particularly need a house, a car, or land. However, there was one thing I missed terribly while staying here for about 2 weeks.

"Sniff, sniff. What is that smell?"

The cafeteria, which had served Western food like steaks, sandwiches, burgers, or salads every day, was now filled with a spicy and sour aroma. I had told Samantha that I desperately wanted to eat Korean food.

Samantha immediately brought a chef from LA's Koreatown and introduced a Korean menu to the cafeteria. In truth, I hadn't expected anything quite this grand, but it seemed she had her own personal rule about doing things on the scale of a "Samantha’s Wish," so I decided to quietly enjoy the benefits.

I was truly moved looking at the feast of Korean dishes spread out—jeyuk-bokkeum, gyeran-mari, kimchi-jjigae, dolsot-bap, tteokbokki, odeng-tang, and LA galbi. How long had it been since I tasted the flavors of home?

I filled my tray with food and began my meal in earnest. As I placed a piece of seasoned seaweed over steaming, freshly cooked white rice and put it in my mouth, hot steam escaped my lips. The crispy seaweed and salty salt maximized the sweetness of the rice grains. I gently scooped up some soft tofu bubbling in a stone pot, cooled it for a moment, and put it straight into my mouth. Along with the tofu that melted away, the scent of clams and the sweet, spicy broth clung to my tongue.

'Ah, this is it!'

I finally felt like I was having a proper meal. Kay, who ate hot dogs or donuts every day, swallowed hard as she watched my full-blown "mukbang." She then brought over some jeyuk-bokkeum and gyeran-mari with a skeptical face.

And she soon realized that the surprisingly brilliant creativity and persistence of Koreans began with this K-food.

"Holy shit! This is delicious!"

---
The Genius Writer Sucks the Sweetness Out of an App Chapter 130
Author: Duruchigi
Publisher: Heo Heung-beom, Park Geon-won
Published by: Potten
Address: [04783] 10th Floor, 8 Yeonmujang 11-gil, Seongdong-gu, Seoul
Phone: 02-6320-8500
Fax: 02-6320-8585
ISBN: 9791173781261
Price: 100 won
ⓒ Duruchigi 2025