He isn’t established? And this young?

Choi Ung-cheon, president of Nice Media, was startled.

He was looking right at it and still couldn’t believe it.

The absorbing style, the anguish about the world that seeped up through the writing — those took a man at least in his late twenties or early thirties.

Above all, Cloud Warrior‘s greatest strength was that the humor running through it was well judged and never overdone.

It was like cooking.

Too much sweetness and a person tires of it fast.

Carrying a story all the way through a long novel took years behind you.

Sweet, salty and sour mixed in the right proportions — that was what made Cloud Warrior a smash.

However generously you counted, the writer looked like a high school student.

And yet.

What is that? That air about him?

The discipline worked into Gold River’s speech and movements put Choi Ung-cheon on edge.

This was no ordinary kid.

He felt nothing like the writers who fold the moment you prop their pride up a little.

This one seemed to have lived some life.

His read on people was considerable, too.

He had picked them out and come straight over from the start.

A good eye meant he had sense.

Which was to say…

“Is there some problem?”

There was force in the kid’s voice.

If this went badly, closing the contract wasn’t going to be easy.

Writers that age are nervous and keyed up and easy to sign, and this one fell outside everything experience had taught him.

“N-no. You just look younger than I expected. May I ask your age…”

“I’m in my second year of high school.”

“…”

He’s not an easy mark.

Choi Ung-cheon was open-handed enough to send his writers on trips abroad.

But he was also a businessman who knew how to use a naive one.

He was cold enough to pay out a royalty and take it back again by some suitable method.

And that Choi Ung-cheon was on edge.

This kid he had met today.

Not a writer you could easily beat down.

So the president has been had.

Hwang Seong-u, the editor-in-chief, saw straight into his friend and president, Choi Ung-cheon.

He had always been a confident man.

The type to say his piece crisply, and his assessments of writers were cold and stingy.

Charming writers with talk and paying them cheap royalties was his specialty.

Today he had come prepared to go to six thousand copies at ten percent, but he would have been planning to beat that down if the chance came.

Today, though, he had run into a real opponent.

Sweat ran down Choi Ung-cheon’s forehead.

Ung-cheon. You’ve met your match today.

Hwang Seong-u couldn’t hold back a private laugh.

Any way you looked at him, Author Gold River was young in years and a fox.

He was the live-action version of Red, the hero of the novel, no question about it.

They can’t manage their faces. Tsk.

The two of them stared at me as if they had lost their words.

As working adults, they would have been sizing me up and figuring out that I wasn’t going to be easy.

What was needed here was a stronger appeal.

“Is a high school student not allowed to sign a contract?”

Quietly, precisely, I put my finger on the point.

The work was good, and that alone would settle which of us was the strong party and which the weak.

The way of the world was simple enough either way.

If what I had to sell was good, I could throw my shoulders back.

“Let me introduce myself formally. I’m Choi Ung-cheon, CEO of Nice Media. Good to meet you, Author.”

“I’m Hwang Seong-u, editor-in-chief.”

“How do you do. I’m Jang Tae-san.”

I bowed politely.

I didn’t want to make a mistake and hand them something to catch me on.

“Mom. Say hello. This is the publisher’s president and the editor-in-chief.”

Behind me, my flustered mother’s eyes went round.

Her eyes asked me what on earth this was.

It would have been strange if she had understood what was happening.

“A-a publisher?”

“Yes. Your son is signing a publishing contract today.”

“…!”

Mom gave an even bigger start.

Seeing me not come out of a sweltering room for days on end, she must have thought I had picked up a game addiction.

“Are you Author Jang’s mother? Good to meet you. I’m Choi Ung-cheon, CEO of Nice Media.”

To win me over, CEO Choi Ung-cheon held out a business card.

His instincts, at least, were superb.

He called me, a high school kid, Author Jang without a moment’s hesitation.

Hah. Cute.

“No, what is going on here? My son, a writer, all of a sudden…”

“What? Your son can’t be a writer?”

“That’s not it. I know what you can do, and you turning into a writer overnight is strange.”

Mom studied the Nice Media CEO and the editor-in-chief the way you’d study a pair of con men.

From where Mom stood, that was normal.

“I’ve been serializing a novel on the internet over vacation, taking it easy. They must have liked it, because they came out to sign.”

“Really? You did?”

“That’s what I said. You told me you’d believe in me until you died?”

“Which is why I’m starting to think my time must be near.”

M-Mom, that’s not fair.

I reflected on the life I had lived up to now.

How little faith I must have given her, that she wouldn’t trust it with the evidence sitting in front of her.

“Gold River — no, Author Jang Tae-san’s writing is remarkable. It hasn’t been long since he started serializing, but it’s getting a great deal of love from readers. You can trust it.”

Sharp as ever, President Choi stepped in to help.

“Even to my eye as an editor-in-chief it’s the best work of recent months. You can trust it.”

“Cloud Warrior? Hmm. The title is good.”

“You know I like watching the clouds every morning.”

Only then did Mom look like she believed it.

But she still didn’t believe it a hundred percent.

“May I have a cup of coffee?”

“Of course. What would you and your mother like, Author Jang?”

“I’ll have…”

Mom looked around for a cue.

“An iced coffee and a red-bean shaved ice, please.”

“I’ll order right away.”

The editor-in-chief moved without being asked.

I may be young, but I’m a writer.

One who was going to make them a pile of money, so I enjoyed the moment.

Like Red, the hero of the novel, if it was free I could drink lye with sugar stirred into it.

“Did you bring the contract?”

“Ha ha. Author Jang, you don’t waste any time.”

“Not fast. Thorough.”

President Choi didn’t know it, but I had once been an exam drifter preparing for the bar.

Hand me a sloppy contract and it’s out on the spot.

Mom simply sat beside me and watched, saying nothing.

It was a good posture for grasping how things were going.

I took the contract and turned the pages.

The guaranteed print run was still left blank.

Secondary rights vested in the publisher for five years? And automatic renewal? Pfft. Are they insane.

From 2010 on, the big companies pile in and the paid e-book market takes off.

The money I sank into paid downloads was considerable.

I could have read them free on P2P, but I was preparing for the civil service exam and couldn’t afford a copyright violation on my record.

“Please amend it so that secondary rights vest in the author.”

“You may not be aware of this, Author, but secondary rights aren’t an important issue. It’s a formality — every other writer signs the same way.”

“I don’t like this clause. I’d like the publisher to hold the publication right only. And in the overseas rights clause, please insert a requirement for consultation with the author.”

“Now, that’s…”

When I came on strong, CEO Choi’s face turned flustered.

And the editor-in-chief, back from ordering, frowned too.

They didn’t know the shape the e-book market was going to take yet, but it must have felt wrong to them somehow.

If a high school writer like me coming on this strong made them happy, they’d be broken people.

“Make the advance twenty million won, paid against royalties.”

“Hah!”

“T-twenty million won?”

The two of them were startled, and far too startled at that.

“T-Tae-san.”

Mom was every bit as shocked.

To the lady of a hard-up house who normally trembled over ten thousand won, twenty million was enormous money.

Her son demanding money like that out in the open left her without words.

“For the guaranteed run, six thousand copies at ten percent, please. If there’s a second printing, notify me immediately, calculate the royalties at month’s end, and deposit them into the account exactly.”

I came on so boldly that all three of them shut their mouths.

“Ha. Ha ha. Author Jang really doesn’t waste time.”

President Choi let out a hollow laugh and opened his mouth.

But his eyes were cold with displeasure.

To the president of a small publisher, twenty million won would be a month of running the office.

But what could I do.

Right now I needed seed money.

“Author Jang. I’m sorry to say it, but there is no publisher that pays an advance like that to a newcomer. The view counts are exploding now, but there’s no guarantee the quality holds. And if it fails…”

Editor-in-chief Hwang Seong-u stepped up.

It was a point I understood perfectly well.

“You brought a laptop, I see.”

“I’m sorry?”

My eyes went to the editor-in-chief’s laptop.

“I’ll give you an opportunity. If you don’t like it, you’re free to refuse.”

“An opportunity, meaning…”

My gaze went to the editor-in-chief, not to President Choi, who was looking at me with distaste.

And then…

I pulled it out of my pants pocket and held it out.

“Wh-what is this?”

Editor-in-chief Hwang Seong-u, asking what it was.

Look at it and you’ll know! Mister!

Every eye went to the USB drive in my hand.

“It’s the manuscript. The manuscript of Cloud Warrior up through volume five is in here.”

“M-manuscript!!!”

(End of Chapter 6)