35 Chapter 35 - The Woman and Her Guitar (1/2)

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Hey everyone,

SootyOwl and ShawnSuh here. We are loving the response you guys are having for the novel and for the work we are doing translating it. We come bearing some news that some of you might not like. As you know, The Great Storyteller is a Korean novel. Under Webnovel and Munpia's partnership to bring Korean novels to a greater audience, Munpia requested that their novels go premium after 40 chapters in order to protect their copyrights and for their authors' benefit.

We hope the you guys stick with us as we watch Juho's future change together, but we understand if you are unable to.

Thank you for your understanding.

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Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

Juho accompanied Pil Sung, who he now referred to as Sung Pil, to the police station. The officers gave the two a dumbfounded look, which made sense considering that teenagers had walked into a police station wanting to return the three dollars one of them had found on the street. As a reward, the two had received a handful of candy. With a satisfied look on his face, Sung Pil popped one of them into his mouth.

In the end, the three dollars he had tried to return ended up in his hands. The two found out that there was a law for the lost items that stated that when a lost item was not claimed within a certain period of time, the finder was given the legal rights to keep the item. At that, Sung Pil asked the officers to hold onto the three dollars. The officers waved their hands to convey that that wasn't necessary. After going back and forth with the officers for some time, he ended up putting the money into a donation box to combat child hunger.

After watching that strange scene for some time, Juho went home with a peppermint candy in his mouth.

”Haha.”

Aside from the word 'funny,' there was no other way to describe what had happened earlier. He had read Sung Pil's book before. Every character had had a humane charm. The book had made its readers pity them, and at the end, root for them.

'Now that I think about it, the book was kind of like the writer,' he thought.

He was in danger, and it felt foreign. It almost felt like he was about to be swallowed up by a colossal wave if he didn't act. Yet, he wasn't scared. In fact, he was looking forward to this new future. Pil Sung's appearance had not been part of Juho's past. His life was definitely taking a turn, and thanks to Pil Sung, Juho's uncertain future was becoming more colorful.

He hoped for a future where he discussed their works with his reckless friend.

In order for that to happen, he had to survive in the world of literature. If he were to be pushed out like in the past, that future would never come.

Juho instinctively reached for a pen.

'Why does a person live?” he quietly asked himself. 'What was the meaning of living life?'

Before digging any deeper, he thought about whether he really existed. If people could no longer see or hear the person named Juho, he might be no different from being dead.

There was a sound coming from the living room. It was the news. Apparently, somebody had won the lottery for a large sum of money.

'If one couldn't be heard, seen, or leave any trace of himself, did that mean he still existed?'

Of course.

”Even if it wasn't me, there's always somebody winning the lottery somewhere.”

'In other words, wouldn't that mean that there are people living even in unseen places? There's no need to complicate this.'

He accepted his recently thought-of impulsive logic.

'What would it feel like to win the lottery?' he calmly put himself in that position. Various thoughts began to spring up. Happiness, fear, anger, will to live… Yet nothing reached the depths of his heart.

”I got nothing.”

Juho tore his hair out. He looked at the leaves of paper untidily strewn across the room. They were messy. They were his stream of consciousness. Something was left unfinished, and it was bothering him.

”I should try going outside.”

He changed quickly and then left the house for a change of scenery.

He walked aimlessly over the hills and across the bridge. After waiting for the light, he walked past a building to reached a neighborhood park.

Impulsively, he went inside. There were kids and parents. The park was big enough for a playground and a small stage, and there was even an elephant in the zoo.

”It's been a while,” he said to himself.

The elephant kept trying to go inside the enclosure, showing only its behind to the people watching in front of the cage. A child shouted, ”Look over here!”

As if it understood, it lowered its head.

The child started throwing a tantrum at his mother. The mother passively comforted the child. She was preoccupied with the even younger child she was holding her arms.

The elephant was not going to lift up its head anytime soon, and the child's tantrum was certainly not going to change that.

Juho went further into the park. In contrast to inside, where it was booming with children, the outside was quiet and calm. There were a few elderly people in places. The air also felt strangely calm, and Juho's pace naturally became slower.

When he walked around the thinner-bodied trees, he saw the green lawn.

'Maybe I should hang out there,' he thought as he walked toward it. Sadly, there was a long rope boarding it off. 'Keep off the grass.'

'I thought grass grew the more it was stepped on,' he thought to himself out of disappointment.

After hovering around the lawn for some time, he eventually turned back. There was no other choice.

”No inspiration, and now I can't even go on the grass. This is not my day,” he grumbled.

As he was about to turn around, he heard a sound.

”What was that?”

It was coming from between an elderly person and the boundary of the grass. The path was still covered in brown leaves. It might have beenthe place where the street cleaners kept the leaves after raking. It almost looked like the time had stopped ticking in that area.

The sound continued with a thin voice that could be lost in a whisper.

He slowly made his way through the brown leaves and walked toward the sound.

”Yeehaw!”

The sound grew louder as he got closer. He heard a tasteful rhythm in between that did not suit the thin, delicate voice. Curiosity hastened him to get even closer to the sound.

”La, la, la,” there was a woman singing. ”La, la, tra-lala.”

The woman had a guitar in her hands. She was singing amid the elderly. Along with the sound of the guitar, Juho was finally able to hear the lyrics.

Well, there wasn't much to the lyrics. From the beginning to the end, 'la, la, la' was the only thing that came out of the girl's voice. It sounded like she had replaced the lyrics with them.

The woman seemed to be in her thirties, with average look and skill. Her playing was nothing short of an amateurish. One wouldn't be able to compliment it, even out of politeness. In other words, she was terrible. In spite of it, the elderly were clapping to her songs. They were loving it.

After performing for some time with only 'La, la, la' and ”Hm, mm, mm,' she bowed to her audience to thanked them. It was a professional.