379 The Spirit Of Wol Kang 3 (2/2)
”Ask away.”
”How are you alive?” Wol asked, rolling his eyes toward Juho. Although Wol was far too late in asking that question, Juho answered calmly, ”I don't know either, but who knows why they were born? n.o.body knows what makes them who they are. Yes, people justify it in different ways, but at the end of the day, there is no right answer, and I think I can say the same about my luck too.”
”You don't say?” Wol said in a mischievous tone, which often meant trouble. ”Did you say that you were going to kill the client?”
”Yes, I did.”
”Are you sure about that?”
”Are you doubting me?”
”No, I'm concerned,” Wol replied, crossing his legs while moving them to and fro, adding, ”From the sound of it, you didn't even die properly, so I'm wondering if you really have what it takes.”
Clenching his hand into fists and curling his lip, Juho asked, ”Sounds to me like you want me to do a bad job.”
”You heard it right.”
”But it's your book, Mr. Kang.”
”You're the one writing it,” Wol said, his legs moving rhythmically. ”I just thought it wouldn't be that bad to hear you say that my books are better left untampered.”
”I hate to disappoint you, Mr. Kang, but you'll never hear that from me.”
”Well, I still get to walk away with something, so…”
”Seems like you have two conflicting thoughts.”
”That's the beauty of self-contradiction,” Wol said, laughing frivolously.
Resisting the urge to sigh, Juho asked, ”Am I going in the right direction this time?”
That time, Wol nodded ambiguously. He was still impossible to read.
”Not too bad.”
Deciding to sound him out, Juho put his hands in his pockets and asked, ”You were going to kill the client too, weren't you? That's why you made that character to begin with, am I right?”
”You got me,” Wol said, still wearing the same mischievous smile.
Swallowing nervously, Juho kept on, ”How does he kill the client?”
”Look over there,” Wol said, pointing down at something. Juho looked down, but it was too dark to make anything out.
”And... Off he goes,” Wol said, pus.h.i.+ng the young author's shoulder. Grabbing Wol by the wrist, Juho asked, ”I'm serious, Mr. Kang.”
”Was it obvious?” Wol asked.
”Can we take this a little more seriously?”
”Well, where's the fun in that?”
”We're not looking for fun here,” Juho replied, and suddenly, the mischievous smile faded from Wol's face.
”Would you like to know what it means to die?” he asked. That time, feeling as though there would be an irreversible consequence, Juho couldn't answer as willingly. Knowing the answer to that question would mean that he was no longer alive. n.o.body who was still alive knew the answer.
”See? It takes the fun right out of it,” Wol said, turning around as if getting ready to leave. However, Juho didn't let go of his wrist. Hesitating, Wol asked, ”What is this about?”
”I'm not done yet.”
”Well, well! Look at you all smarted up! I guess picking people's brains did pay off somehow, huh?”
”He buries the client alive, doesn't he?”
At that moment, Wol's eyebrow twitched. When he had pointed toward the ground, that had been the truth.
”It's a person who gets buried in the cabbage patch, not the ma.n.u.script, isn't it?”
At that moment, a gust of wind came along. Juho couldn't keep his eyes open.
”Do you think you have what it takes?”
With that, Juho woke up, Wol's voice still lingering in his ears.
---
”Mr. Woo? Mr. Woo!”
Nam Kyung's voice sounded off from the receiver. Having dozed off, Juho sprung up, startled by the editor's voice.
”Did you just pa.s.s out?”
”No way. I had a visitor.”
”... Please, Mr. Woo.”
Letting out a big yawn and clearing his throat, Juho put the phone on speaker mode. Nam Kyung's voice reverberated through the room.
”Where were we?” Juho asked.
”I asked about your progress.”
”I started writing.”
At the young author's response, Nam Kyung let out a long exclamation. Catching on to the editor's ambition, Juho chuckled quietly and started to explain himself in an attempt to lower the editor's expectation.
”I JUST started it.”
”I don't know, Mr. Woo. You tend to write a lot faster than most people.”
”But this is different. I never had to finish another author's book for them.”
”And that author is Wol Kang, right?”
Then, Juho started to grumble about his situation, which amused the editor.
”Well, I don't have much add since I don't know what kind of story Mr. Kang left behind, but break a leg, Mr. Woo. Also, remember to let me read it once you're done writing it,” the editor said.
”We'll talk when I'm finished.”
”Oh! I really hope we can work together again on your next book!” Nam Kyung said, sounding like an insurance agent. Replying haphazardly, Juho moved his hands to the keyboard. Then, as if hearing the sound of the keys, Nam Kyung's voice tensed up slightly, and he asked, ”... I'm not interrupting, am I?”
”Hm.”
”Mr. Woo?”
”I am in the middle of writing. You know, the story Wol Kang left behind?”
”... Should I hang up?”
Having learned from Hyun Do, Juho had reached the point of being able to write while talking on the phone.
”It's OK. I can mult.i.task.”
”So… Do you think you can let me in on what you're writing, Mr. Woo?” Nam Kyung asked desperately.
To which, Juho replied, ”... As long as it's a snippet.”
”Really!?”
Then, Juho read from the ma.n.u.script of his story about the homeless man and the young narrator, which he had erased from the main ma.n.u.script.
”The narrator asked,” Juho said, closing his eyes. Thankfully, Wol was nowhere to be seen. His last words still lingered in Juho's ears: ”Do you think you have what it takes to write about death?” At that moment, a dog barked in the distance.
”What's their relations.h.i.+p? h.e.l.lo?”
”Yes, I'm here.” Having forgotten that he was on the phone, Juho replied with a slight delay, ”There isn't a whole lot to it, really. Well, you heard enough, right? I'm hanging up now. I have a lot of work to do.”
”Hold on! Don't forget to call me when you finish the ma.n.u.script, all right!? Otherwise, I'll a.s.sume that you failed. Well, seems like Mr. Kang's capable of intimidating even an author like…”
At that moment, Juho hung up without hesitation, switched his phone off, and started typing away.