Translated by: ShawnSuh
Edited by: SootyOwl
“I did,” Juho had said back then.
He remembered that the background had been quite noisy. Nam Kyung had asked for an explanation a number of times and complained about the ambiguity of Juho’s answer. Still, Juho explained it all in a friendly manner, and in the process, he came to mention the evolutions of Hangul, the fall of hieroglyphs, and written languages that had survived the test of time. As the subject became broader, Nam Kyung resorted to asking, “How many languages do you speak, anyway?!”
“Twenty-three, more or less,” Juho answered playfully.
Thinking back on that day, Juho swallowed the cookie in his mouth. Nam Kyung must have wanted yet another confirmation from him. He rushed Juho for an answer, squinting his eyes.
“So, was that really true?”
“It’s a lie.”
“What?”
Juho said, taking notice of the disappointed look on Nam Kyung’s face.
“It’s meaningless to count how many languages I can speak. I can read in any language, essentially.”
Nam Kyung furrowed his forehead at Juho’s calm attitude.
“I mean it,” he said.
“So do I,” Juho answered as he reached for another cookie. Then, Nam Kyung immersed himself in thought and suggested, “Would you like to write a book?”
He was an editor after all.
“What kind of book?”
“About language, like secrets to learning a new language or how to study for it. Things like that.”
He was sincere. Once the truth got out, and the masses found out that Yun Woo wrote ‘Language of God,’ they would be bound to be interested in his language skills. Eighteen years old, outstanding literary value, and on top of that, a polyglot. Simply put, Yun Woo was full of charm. There had been no author like him in the history of literature, and he was truly one of a kind.
“Let’s do it.”
People tended to be drawn to things that were unique, and as an editor, Nam Kyung couldn’t help his desire to seize the opportunity.
“I respectfully decline.”
“Why?!”
Though he preferred not to disappoint Nam Kyung, Juho couldn’t write the kind of book he was suggesting. He felt that he wasn’t in a position to be teaching others about secrets or how to study for something.
“Aside from things like ‘It just happened. I was just living my life, minding my own business,’ there’s nothing else I can say.”
He had died after leading a tenacious life, and then the day came when he came back to life. Knowing nothing about this, Nam Kyung insisted, “That’s fine, as long as the book is about language.”
“No, thank you.”
“Why not?!”
“Unless I’m writing a novel, I prefer not to write about myself.”
Although he would have considered it for ‘Language of God,’ Nam Kyung was working with Yun Woo, not Won Yi Young.
“Even though you’re writing about your strengths?”
“Yes. Even then.”
“C’mon. Your readers will love it.”
“They’ll love it even more when I come out with a novel.”
“It’s necessary to change things up every now and then.”
“That’s how ‘Language of God’ came about.”
At Juho’s emphatic refusal, Nam Kyung let out a heavy sigh. It was a sign that he was giving up.
“I see. Well, if the author doesn’t want to, then there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Don’t be too sad now.”
The future was unpredictable. Maybe he would come to encounter yet another opportunity. Despite Juho trying to comfort him, Nam Kyung drank his tea sullenly.
“Alright, fine. When can you expect to see the article? I’m sure you guys have connections.”
According to Dong Baek’s own words…
“Within this week.”
… within the near future.
—
“You’ve been busy lately, huh?”
Dong Baek asked as he looked at Myun Sil Oh, who sat across from him. Smiling cheerfully, she was sitting where Yun Woo had sat when Done Baek first met him, and it was at that very spot that the truth would be revealed. Moaning intentionally, he answered, “Did you not see the reporters surrounding the entrance? It’s been chaos.”
“I sure did and I’m sure that’s why you called me.”
Dong Baek nodded at her confident attitude.
“It’s unfortunate that I don’t get to meet Mr. Young in person today, but I’ll make sure to package everything nicely into my article. I’m sure it’s tough for him, being involved with Yun Woo of all authors,” she added.
When she came to meet with Dong Baek, she was under the impression that she was writing an article in defense of Won Yi Young. Without knowing about the inner details, there was nothing else she could do.
“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary,” Dong Baek said with a smile.
“First, I have to warn you…” he gave her a warning as there weren’t many reporters who were as skilled and trustworthy as her. With that, the smile faded away from her face.
“… This is kind of intimidating. Maybe I didn’t fully grasp the situation. What kind of article did you have in mind?”
She was quick to catch on and easy to communicate with.
“I called you to exaggerate the matter even more, Ms. Oh.”
“Even more?! That sounds risky. It’ll pop any minute,” she said, and Dong Baek agreed with her. The bomb was about to explode. To be more precise, it was exploding to its heart’s content, and there was no way to tame it. No, he didn’t want to tame it. He came to the decision that it would be more beneficial to take the opportunity and make the most out of the situation. Fireworks. As long they were aimed at the sky, there was no risk of injuring anyone.
“Yun Woo vs. Won Yi Young.”
The only person who had the power to throw the bomb was none other than the author who was both Yun Woo and Won Yi Young.
“A lot of people are curious about Yun Woo and his identity, right?”
“Of course.”
“And the same goes for Won Yi Young.”
“Absolutely. There has been speculation,” Myung Sil said, flexing her hands by reflex. She wasn’t sure what Dong Baek was trying to say, but she did feel the need to prepare herself.
“I’m about to reveal the secret that’s been closely guarded up to this point.”
—
On a lazy weekend afternoon, Dong Gil was reading his book as usual after meeting his deadline for his short story. It was a world that was both detailed and vast, and every sentence had a mysterious charm. It was rather immersive.
“Dong Gil! Let’s play.”
A voice disrupted his reading. It was Seo Joong, holding a pool cue in his hands. Dong Gil furrowed his brow at once. He felt that his friend would never grow out of his shallowness, regardless of how old he grew. Seo Joong was wearing a yellow sweatshirt and pants with sauce stains from lunch. As a person who took appearances seriously, it was an unacceptable sight for Dong Gil.
“Can’t you see that I’m reading?”
In that case, the best course of action was to not look. He looked away from the unpleasant sight, and the neatly printed words brought about a sense of peace in his heart.
“‘Language of God,’ huh.”
Seo Joong read the title of the book out loud and positioned himself by the pool table at the center of the living room. Then, stacking his thumb and index fingers on top of the middle finger, the pool cue lined up with his wrist. It was a rather clean posture.
With that, the ball launched forward, hitting another ball and then into a hole.
“Won Yi Young has a rather mysterious style.”
Without paying attention, Seo Joong positioned himself once again. The ball launched and hit a series of balls until one of them went into a hole.
“He’s got stamina, I’ll give you that. It’s impressive. He’s written everything, from politics to arts, education, law, morals, power relations, and the necessities of life. The characters are multi-dimensional as well. He’s leading this enormous world without hesitation.”
Dong Gil answered as he flipped the page, “He’s sensitive to language as well. The fact that he created a whole new language is not everything there is to this book. His sentences and word choices are incredibly sophisticated. One can’t write like this without experience.”
“And the literary value.”
“Nothing’s wasted.”
“Doesn’t that remind you of Juho?”
A series of solid objects colliding sounded in the living room.
“Of course it does. The message is similar. This isn’t my first time feeling like the author’s perspective is similar to Juho’s.”
“The style’s similar too. Maybe he transcribed Yun Woo’s books a lot?”
Listening to his ever-so-light-hearted friend, Dong Gil flipped the page.
“You can’t just write like Yun Woo after transcribing his book a several times.”
Seo Joong laughed as his friend answered annoyedly and moved his hands even faster. An even louder noise sounded from where he was.
“That’s what I’m saying,” he said as he straightened his back and stepped away from the pool table. “But maybe Won Yi Young has what it takes because of how sensitive he is to language.”
“Before I even delve into his skills, I just don’t get it. What’s the meaning behind copying Yun Woo? It’d be much more beneficial to make something of his own.”
A distinctive character was the foundation and objective of any artist.
“Well, we can’t always lead an ideal life.”
“Being distinct as an author is a reality, not an ideal. Even now, there’s controversy because he was copying Yun Woo.”
“You don’t like that, huh?”
“I can’t say that I have a positive perspective toward it.”
It was a rather sensitive matter for artists, and Dong Gil felt the familiarity the moment he read the book. It was Yun Woo’s writing, yet the author was named “Won Yi Young.” As Yun Woo’s writing became only more apparent as he read, Dong Gil felt disappointed.
‘Why would such a talented writer give up being distinguished from Yun Woo?’
“Maybe we should go see him. I’m itching to know what he looks like.”
“Take me with you this time, will ya?”
Ignoring Seo Joong, Dong Gil remained silent and closed the book. He didn’t know what the author looked like because he had never met him.
“Should I dare to connect the dots?” Dong Gil said with an unpleasant smile on his face, and Seo Joong shook his head.
‘Here we go again,’ he thought. Dong Gil was about to doubt every single thought he had come across.
“I never saw it with my own eyes, so what I’m thinking would be a shallow speculation at best. Speculations shine with doubt.”
“Aren’t you tired?”
“It’s a thought. What’s so tiring about that?”
“I’m confident that I won’t be taken aback when your head explodes next to me.”
Dong Gil brushed his hand down the book. He recognized that he didn’t have the most positive opinions on the author.
“Now, let’s think in a positive light.”
“How?”
“How can we connect the dots in a way where it won’t offend us? What bothered me the most was the fact that the author gave up trying to be distinct.”
“That’s probably something we shouldn’t mess around with. If he were not to give up being distinct, it would have yielded a completely different result.”
“There might be a connecting piece that’s missing from both of us.”
“Well, I guess that settles it then. What’s the point in thinking about it so hard when the really important thought isn’t in our heads? Let’s just relax and chill.”
“That’s why you’ll never grow up,” Dong Gil said as he gave his friend a pitiful look. In his mind, it was no wonder that Seo Joong wrote books filled with such mushy ideals. “If you can’t find it at home, then you gotta go out. Are you gonna starve yourself because you’re out of rice?”
“I can eat bread, duh.”
Feeling the absence of the need to respond to those words, Dong Gil reached for the TV remote next to him and turned on the news. It didn’t matter what the news was because everything was connected in this world.
“Just like how you’d be the first suspect when I’m found dead.”
“That sounds more like getting convicted of murder.”
Their conversation stopped there. They wouldn’t be able to reach a conclusion, and conversations like that had been a daily task between Seo Joong and Dong Gil. The objective of those conversations was not to reach an answer, but to find out the proper question. It was just like writing.
Then, a familiar name sounded from the TV.
“There’s Yun Woo. He’s just on fire as of late.”
The two fixed their eyes on the TV as the news anchor delivered the news.
“Today, the Dong Baek Publishing Company made an official announcement regarding the sensational dispute between the fans of two major authors, Yun Woo and Won Yi Young.”
“When?!”
“Shh!” Dong Gil warned his chatty friend and focused on the TV.
“The fans are in shock as they have come to learn that Won Yi Young is the second alias of the author Yun Woo,” the news anchor said in the TV. It was strange, astonishing, and entirely unexpected. At the same time, all the pieces began to fall into place.
“Wow…” Seo Joong said absent-mindedly, and jumped from his seat, and said, “Yun Woo was Won Yi Young! My gosh, this is so satisfying! Wow, who would’ve thought!?”
With that, he bursted into laughter. He was quite distracting.
“I better call Juho!”
“Already on it,” Dong Gil said as his phone informed him that the line was busy.
