The Great Storyteller

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

“Sure, it’s a bummer that such a massive series is getting published by another company, but as a reader myself, I really hope that it comes out soon.”

“What she said.”

Nam Kyung looked at the person who interjected in his conversation with Ms. Song. It was Mr. Maeng. Next to him, was Sung Pil, who was visiting the company, whom Nam Kyung greeted briefly, still having trouble getting used to the author’s lack of eyebrows. When the editor had seen it for the first time, it had left him utterly confused. Since the Mona Lisa, Nam Kyung had never come across someone without eyebrows.

“Aren’t you cold?” Ms. Song asked. Tilting his head, Sung Pil replied, “I’m quite warm. Thanks for asking.”

“Right…”

With that, Ms. Song reverted the subject of the conversation back to Yun Woo, and Mr. Maeng, being the fantasy novel fanatic that he was, actively forced himself into the conversation. He had to be the most enthusiastic ‘Language of God’ fan in the entire office by far.

“The fan community seems to suspect the possibility of a sequel series to ‘Language of God.’ Although, there have always been rumors.”

“The publisher made it seem like they were about to announce something big. It makes sense,” Ms. Song said, and Nam Kyung nodded in agreement. Meanwhile, Sung Pil sat and listened to their conversation quietly. At that moment, Mr. Maeng looked toward Nam Kyung, giving him the same, familiar look that the editor had been getting throughout his career. When Nam Kyung shook his head, Mr. Maeng looked at another person.

“I don’t really know, either,” Sung Pil said.

“Why not?”

“I think he’s quite busy,” the rookie writer answered briefly and added, “… writing.”

At that one word, all the editors thought of the same book. Covering her mouth, Ms. Song said, “You mean…”

As much as she wanted to say it, she had to control herself. Then, noticing the awkward tension in the air, Mr. Maeng changed the subject, “There’s that, but guess what else is coming out next year? The ‘Language of God’ movie!”

“Oh, yeah!”

Although Mr. Maeng tried to keep a calm look on his face, he simply couldn’t resist the excitement, “The cast members are made of top actors and actresses, not to mention who’s directing it. Man, am I stoked!”

Nodding her head enthusiastically, Ms. Song said, “It feels like everything we’ve been waiting for is coming out all at once. Kind of like payday.”

Pushing his glasses up, Nam Kyung took a glance at the calendar on his desk.

“Yun Woo is finally coming back.”

—

“And nobody came out!”

An actor said, and laughter sounded from the crowd of reporters.

“Anyway, it was definitely one of the more interesting projects I’ve ever been part of. I also had the most fun. What made it particularly challenging, though, was studying the script, which was quite unique, to say the least.”

Jenkins looked through the dozens of reporters sitting before his eyes. There was a press conference that day for the ‘Language of God’ movie, and Jenkins’ appearance was comparable to those of the actors.

“I have a question for Mr. Jenkins.”

At that, the actors sitting to either side of the director looked at him simultaneously. Since it was just after the screening, there was excitement in the reporters’ voices. They all had watched the film adaptation of ‘Language of God.’ Sensing the excitement in the air, Jenkins raised his chin and said, “Yes?”

“It’s about Yun Woo, the creator of the original.”

The name Yun Woo came up just as he expected. Jenkins locked eyes with the reporter, whose cheekbones stood out quite a bit.

“He recently resumed his career after finishing his service in the Korean military. But, for some reason, he hasn’t made any public appearances, even though it’s been months since his discharge.”

“Yes, I’m aware. I haven’t seen him yet,” Jenkins said, cutting the reporter off mid-sentence. At which point, the reporter asked back by reflex, “You haven’t?”

“You see, he doesn’t treat me any different just because I’m a movie director in Hollywood. Actually, I’m scheduled to visit Korea soon. I think I’ll pay him a visit. Although, I don’t really know where he lives,” Jenkins said, clicking his tongue. The sound of fingers tapping on keyboards filled the room as the reporters typed out everything that the director was telling them, including his jokes.

“Uh… right. I actually had a different question in mind. How do you think Yun Woo will react to the movie? What do you think he will have to say?”

Although he felt the corner of his mouth turning up, Jenkins didn’t bother hiding it.

“I’m sure he’ll be more than satisfied. And maybe, just maybe, he might even acknowledge that letting me direct his movie was the best decision he ever made.”

“Does Yun Woo call you Zara?” one of the actors interjected. Jenkins waved in denial and replied, “He’s very polite. Unlike somebody I know.”

Questions started pouring out after the name of the young author came up. The reporters were desperate to hear more about the author after his two-year hiatus. Although unsure as to why he had to be the one to quench their curiosity, Jenkins responded as sincerely as possible.

“How much have you two talked? Could you tell us more about his input in the production of the movie?”

“Not since he went into the military, unfortunately. As for the advice regarding the languages within the novel, he gave me that while we were in Germany. I also got some help from Mr. Sanders, the translator of the novel series.”

“Was there anything in particular that he insisted you left unchanged?”

Reminiscing to the time he had spent with the young author in Germany, Jenkins replied, “No. He gave me full creative freedom.”

“Why do you think he hasn’t made any announcements yet?”

“I can’t say,” the director replied. In actuality, he had no clue as to where the young author even was.

“There have been rumors circulating among fans about a sequel to ‘Language of God.’ Have you heard anything about that?”

“Look. This is press conference for the MOVIE ‘Language of God.’ You can take that question to the author yourself,” the host said, correcting the trajectory of the conference. Then, he pointed to another reporter, who was sitting to the left side of the room. Jenkins looked toward them.

“It’s a widely-known fact that you flew all the way to Germany just to see the author. In one of his interviews, Yun Woo stated that his first impression of you was similar to that of an intimidating boss at work,” the reporter said, bringing up one of the young author’s answers from an interview given prior to that day.

“He did say that. The second he saw me, he gave me an ‘X.’ It almost felt like I was getting fired.”

“So…”

Of course, the next question was also about Yun Woo. After answering it haphazardly, Jenkins decided to draw the line in order to prevent any further questions about the young author. He was disgruntled as well that Juho didn’t even bother to give him a call since his discharge from the military.

“Now, I’d appreciate it if you all could refrain from asking any further questions about Yun Woo after I answer one more.”

At that, nearly every reporter raised their hands simultaneously. The turn went to somebody who introduced themselves as a blogger. Before Jenkins even spotted him in the crowd, the blogger asked, “What do you think of Yun Woo as an author?”

“As an author?” Jenkins said, pausing for a brief moment. Then, the blogger added, “Yes. If you were to use an adjective in front of his name, what would it be?”

Deep in thought, the director looked down. His mind was urging him to blurt out the very word that was in his mind. ‘Is this the devil or the angel whispering?’ It was neither. In fact, it was merely his desire to speak his thoughts. Although it was slightly ill-natured and resentful, it was also genuine.

“Mr. Jenkins?”

Everyone in the room was waiting for the director’s reply. By the time the actor sitting by the edge of the corner peeked his head to look over in his direction, Jenkins opened his mouth and said, “He’s not a genius as he’s colloquially known.”

“Huh?”

“At first, I thought we were under the same category: a modern-day genius, complete with talent AND effort. Then, I noticed something different about him by the time I read his book about fifty times,” Jenkins said with a bright smile on his face.

‘Was it a flaw of sorts?’ the reporters thought to themselves, hoping for the author’s misfortune. At which point, Jenkins added, looking directly at the reporter, “… That he’s quite rational. There’s not one bit of conceit in him and there’s not a single indication that he’s the type to follow his instincts. If he really was a genius, then it wouldn’t add up that he lacks so many things, don’t you think?”

The director remembered Juho. Juho’s novel wasn’t the only place where Jenkins had noticed the young author’s rational side. After spending some time with him, the director had come to learn a few things about the young author. First, Yun Woo was quite defensive and was inclined to hide within himself. At the same time, the young author seemed to understand when not to hide, which had to have come from experience. It was the only thing that enabled one to act on their knowledge.

“What’s even more baffling is that he doesn’t have a single wrinkle in his body.”

Leaning back on the chair’s backrest, Jenkins spoke about the young author to his heart’s content, unhindered, exaggerating slightly while adding a touch of false information. Creating an image and giving one a role and a name was the director’s specialty.

“… And that was his answer. Isn’t that incredible?”

Using anecdotes, Jenkins hid things about the young author that could be interpreted as flaws. The room was in an uproar, and Jenkins massaged his temple as if he had a headache.

“So, going back to the question, if I were to use an adjective before his name, it would have to be this one. Genius just doesn’t cut it. Yeah… OK, I got one,” the director said. Just like that, he spoke his thoughts. His hand shook from the excitement. The expressions on the reporters’ faces started to change. Staring at his fingers, which were wiggling like a spider, Jenkins said, “OK, then. Why don’t we move on to the next question?”

“Wait! Hold on! Just one more!”

“No, I don’t think so,” Jenkins said, shutting down the reporter’s desperate request. After that day, most of the reporters who had been present at the conference gave the movie a high rating and positive reviews. However, what really drew the most attention was the article about Yun Woo, who still didn’t make a public appearance, even after it was printed. The hollow shouts from the fans waiting desperately for his return echoed through the media.

—

“Achoo!”

Endless green lawn, the sound of a fountain spurting in the distance, and people speaking different languages with their shirts off, bathing in sunlight. Away from it all, was a person who was sniffling under the shade, laying on his stomach. It was Yun Woo, the author who was desperately waited for by the people. Although the Sun was quite warm in March, the air was still cold.

“It’s been too long.”

Juho sprawled across the lawn, relaxed to the point of feeling lazy. It had been quite a while since his last vacation.

“Jenkins must be in Korea by now.”

The director had scheduled a visit to Korea right around the time of the movie’s release there. Meanwhile, Juho was well aware of all the atrocity for which he was responsible. Thanks to the massive bomb he’d dropped, what should have remained a quiet life had become hectic and vibrant all over again.

As the phone started vibrating, Juho took it out of his pocket and looked at it. It was an email, the twenty-eighth email, to be precise. Upon checking it, Juho put the phone back in his pocket. At that moment, a pigeon that had landed next to him came into the young author’s view, bobbing its head. While Juho was staring dazedly at it, he sensed a shadow cast over him. A man in light sportswear was looking down. Seeing as though his chest was moving up and down, he had to have run up until he stopped. Nevertheless, the man’s face was filled with astonishment.

“Can I help you?” Juho asked.

“You’re Yun Woo, aren’t you?” the man asked, catching his breath.

Staring into the blue sky over his shoulders, Juho said, “Yes, I am.”

As the young author rose from the ground, the man asked in a hurry, “Could you take a picture with me?”

Picking up the hat, which he had placed next to him on the lawn, and brushing off the blades of grass on it, Juho said, “Of course,” willingly getting in front of the lens with the man. The man seemed ecstatic that he had run into Juho.

“What have you been up to?”

“Nothing much. Just killing time.”

“I’m a fan! I own every single one of your books!” At that moment, the man called the young author by a peculiar nickname, “Mr. Great Storyteller.”

“…”

Juho looked up at the sunlit sky. Since Jenkins’ had made a certain statement, the young author had been coming across the nickname on the news, no matter the country he was in or where he was in that country. When presented in such a manner, even his greatest dream was reduced to a repulsive and hollow-sounding set of words.

“That wasn’t me he was talking about,” Juho said, putting on the hat and walking away. The water drops in the grass tickled his calves pleasantly. At that moment, his phone started vibrating in his pocket yet again. That time, it was a call.

“Hello?”

“Did you see it?”

Even without the specified subject of his question, Juho was able to understand him thoroughly.

“Mr. Jenkins, you asked me the same thing just ten minutes ago. Do you realize how long your movie is?”

“Good. DO NOT watch it.”

“OK, I heard you the first time,” Juho said. At which, the director warned him sternly, “DO NOT watch that movie. Not until I’m there.”