Chapter 28: Chapter 28 - A Harsh, Bitingly Cold Winter (3) (1/2)

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

”Now, let's talk about you,” Dong Gil said as Juho took a sip of his lukewarm coffee. It was sudden, but it wasn't a surprise. That meeting had been set up for Dong Gil and Juho from the start.

Juho learned how unique of a person Dong Gil was. Now, it was his turn.

”Didn't you want to know what I looked like?” Juho asked light-heartedly.

”I did, but that was until I met you. I wanted to know what makes you look like a genius.”

”I'm not sure if I am one. Speaking of which, you wrote the novel called 'The Genius,' right?”

”I did. It was about a genius who was born in a time that wasn't quite ready to welcome him. He eventually falls into ruin.”

”He starved to death in the end.”

'The Genius' was written entirely in the first-person perspective. The protagonist was a pianist who came from a poor family. He was also a genius. He was recognized for his skills and received a special scholars.h.i.+p to a music school. Unfortunately, without personal connections or wealth, there was no chance for him to prove himself at that school.

In the end, the protagonist left the school and made a living performing on the streets. Sadly, he failed to draw attention and met with a tragic demise.

In his final performance, he resented his gift of music as his life slowly faded away.

”You've read it?”

”I have.”

At Juho's short answer, Dong Gil showed him the back of his notepad. There, it was written: The list of things I clearly dislike.

'What do you know?!' If there was a list of things he clearly liked, Juho had wondered if there was also an opposite version of it. Unlike the positive version that started at the front of the notepad, that list started at the back.

”I wrote 'genius' on top.”

It wasn't really necessary for him to show that. As a proof, Dong Gil put his notepad in front of Juho's face. The word 'genius' was definitely on it. Underneath was 'hairs of a beast.'

”I'm not a genius, so obviously, it makes me sick whenever I'm around one of those arrogant b.a.s.t.a.r.ds. They think they're so talented. They make me want to shut 'em up. That's why I starved the protagonist to death,” Dong Gil said bitterly as he imagined the protagonist of 'The Genius' walking down the path of destruction.

To him, there was nothing positive about the word ”genius.” His physiological response was to deny them. As a writer, he couldn't help but to express such feelings in his writing.

”Whether somebody's a genius or a criminal, everyone's equal before starvation.”

”That's true. They're human at the end of the day.”

”Seeing these geniuses dying so tragically, it makes me wonder if G.o.d is as twisted as I am,” he said confidently with a blank expression and continued looking at Juho. ”What do you think? If somebody like me were a G.o.d, a genius like you wouldn't possibly be able to live happily ever after.”

His tone was dry, and Juho thought, 'He might be right. If G.o.d really hates geniuses, then it makes sense that my life ended the way it did.'

Juho had lived such a life because he had been hated by G.o.d. He had become drunk with his own talent and stopped trying. He had been trapped within his own world and glorified himself as the king. If G.o.d was anything like Dong Gil, Juho would have certainly infuriated him.

Yet, Juho came back. He had been given a second chance and he was still living.

In that case, ”I quit being a genius.”

There's no other way than to quit.

At Juho's answer, Dong Gil's jaw dropped ever so slightly. It had been a completely unexpected answer, and soon, he started smirking.

”You're a strange one.”

”Am I?”

”Very.”

As he muttered, Dong Gil wrote something in his notepad.

'You're one to talk,' thought Juho. 'Genius. He had created a character and then called him a genius. Had that been appropriate?'

”I didn't think the protagonist was a genius.”

”What?”

Juho spoke his mind. He had been wanting to say that since a moment ago.

”The talent of a genius is bound to charm people, no matter the time and place. In any situation, that talent s.h.i.+nes even if the genius is approaching death. The talent is merciless even to the one who possesses it. If the protagonist really were a genius, others around him wouldn't have let him starve to death.”

There was no boundary in the fairness of talent. It was equally cruel to everyone. Juho had talent, and whoever possessed a talent was often referred to as a genius. People called Juho genius, and he had thought it would last forever.

Yet, he had eventually experienced failure, and there had no longer been anyone calling him a genius.

Though praised as a gifted author at one point, Juho had left the literature field. On the other hand, Dong Gil, who denied his talent, continued writing. At the rock bottom of his life, Juho read Dong Gil's books and laughed.

'His success does not come from his talent,' thought Juho.

Then, his failure was probably not going to have anything to do with his talent either.

Juho's failure hadn't been for lack of talent. The protagonist in the book was the same.

”The protagonist is not a genius. He envied talent and was ashamed of putting in the effort. That's why you starved him to death, right?”

He was merely envious of talent. He didn't put in the effort. He had never fought to obtain it. He simply sank deeper into the depths. There was no resistance.

He didn't bother trying to live. He didn't want to eat. No wonder he had starved to death.

After listening quietly, Dong Gil's mouth opened, and he said, ”You seem very convinced. There's always a handful of people who find out, no matter how well I hide it. There's no reward in having secrets because of those people.”

Dong Gil was aware of how magnificent a talent could be. It was like a gem that shone on its own without sunlight. On its own, it had the ability to charm people.

He had come to learn that he didn't have such a thing. A youngster who picked up a pen much later than Dong Gil had written something that exceeded his expectations. He remembered his first experience with Juho's writing. His heart had pounded aggressively.

'But I started first. I wrote so much more.'

Talent had been cruel to Dong Gil. To him, there was nothing more unfair.

Figure of speech was not one of Dong Gil's strengths. He couldn't write anything fancy or magnificent and he wrestled with his weaknesses. Then, he discovered Hemingway and received help from his writing.

'Let's keep it simple, cutting out whatever's unnecessary. I'll write something simple and to-the-point, just like my savior, Hemingway.'

”Everybody wants to be a genius, myself included at one point.”