Chapter 11 – This Is What Comics Are
Jangsan Publishing.
One of the big three Korean comic publishers, alongside Bitseoul Publishing and Daewoong Media.
Of course, among the three, Jangsan ranked dead last in comic book sales, with 70% of its revenue coming from educational comics.
But even so, they hadn’t abandoned their roots.
The biweekly boys’ magazine <New Chance>.
While other companies quietly pulled back from the Korean comic market and filled pages with translated Japanese works, Jangsan’s <New Chance> steadfastly continued discovering new talent and never let go of the banner “Korean comics that will change the world.”
Inside the office of the <Print Comics Division> on the fourth floor of the Jangsan Publishing building.
“Nooo! Go Gwang-jin, you bastard!”
“Ahh! Let go and talk!”
A middle-aged woman in a sharp suit and red glasses grabbed Go Gwang-jin by the collar and shook him.
Her name was Song Mi-hyeon.
Director of Jangsan’s entire comic division and the person slated to become the next executive.
In her prime, everything she touched became a hit, ushering in the golden age of <New Chance>.
She was the industry legend who personally handled everything—from negotiations with Japanese creators to translation and even character name changes—when importing the famous basketball comic <Fade Away>, which sparked a basketball boom in Korea.
Yet here she was, shaking Gwang-jin by the collar because…
“It’s already 2:50! 2:50! If we don’t get the manuscript now, next week’s issue is dead! You hear me? Dead!”
“I told you—just ten more minutes! I said I’d get it by 3 p.m. no matter what!”
The final files for next Tuesday’s <New Chance> still weren’t locked in.
The magazine’s flagship—and practically its only moneymaker—was Gil-sang’s boy fantasy battle series <Aureka>.
Problem one: Gil-sang had come down with severe flu, leaving a hole in the issue.
Problem two: the emergency fill-in manuscript from Shin Pil-ho still hadn’t arrived.
They needed that manuscript to finalize the cover text and everything else… but whatever it was, it showed no sign of coming, so Director Song Mi-hyeon couldn’t help exploding like this.
“Hey, Jaekyung! Just assume the manuscript isn’t coming—drop the cover blurb! Send the files straight to the printer!”
Song Mi-hyeon whipped her head sideways and pointed at a female staff member sitting in the corner.
Any further delay could mess up distribution itself.
Better to go without Shin Pil-ho’s fill-in than risk that.
“Y-yes, ma’am.”
The woman reached for the phone on her desk just as—
Thud!
“No—no way!”
Gwang-jin grabbed the receiver and slammed it down, glaring murderously.
“What?”
The woman’s eyebrow twitched.
Smack!
“Ow!”
Song Mi-hyeon’s palm cracked against the back of Gwang-jin’s head, shaking his neck.
“You little shit—do you want to get fired, Go Gwang-jin? If distribution’s late, are you taking responsibility?”
“Then just wait ten more minutes! Why can’t you wait that long?!”
“How dare you talk back—”
The office filled with their shouting.
Embarrassed looks spread across the other editors’ faces as they worked.
Some put in earphones; others stared fixedly at their monitors.
‘Here we go again…’
‘Damn, this company never has a peaceful day.’
‘Should I just quit?’
Gwang-jin kept stubbornly insisting on waiting.
No one in the room didn’t know why he was acting like this.
—Director, please let Writer Shin Pil-ho fill this week’s hole. And if the work satisfies you… please reconsider the serialization termination!
Shin Pil-ho—the artist Gwang-jin himself had discovered.
He’d been notified of termination this time… and Gwang-jin had unilaterally declared that if Pil-ho filled the hole, they should rethink it—and was now causing this whole scene.
Of course, the other editors couldn’t understand why he was going this far.
‘Is it really worth all this? What’s so special about that Shin Pil-ho guy anyway?’
‘Why is he so obsessed with an old-man comic artist in a boys’ magazine?’
Everyone acknowledged that Shin Pil-ho was a distinctive and skilled artist.
Even if the Korea Manhwa Award had lost some prestige… winning an excellence prize with a debut work wasn’t something just anyone could do.
But <New Chance> was, at the end of the day, a shonen magazine.
His comics didn’t fit the magazine’s concept, and sales were dismal.
It was only natural to question his necessity.
Yet here was Gwang-jin fighting tooth and nail against the tiger-like Director Song Mi-hyeon to protect him…
‘Is that admirable… or just stupid?’
‘I really don’t get it.’
The entire office could only sigh and shake their heads.
“Aaagh! Let go of me!”
“I won’t, you bastard! Fix the cover and send it to the printer now!”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Tap-tap-tap.
Song Mi-hyeon dragged Gwang-jin by the scruff of his neck, and the cover designer hurriedly typed away.
“I told you to wait! If you keep this up, I’ll really throw in the towel!”
“Do it then—if you want to get fired. Hey, hold this guy down!”
“Come on, Gwang-jin, calm down!”
“No—let go!”
As more male staff piled on, Gwang-jin was pushed back little by little.
In the middle of this chaos—
“Hello. Quick delivery.”
A sudden voice from the office entrance brought instant silence. Everyone turned.
A motorcycle-helmeted delivery rider stood there, blinking at Gwang-jin and the group “torturing” him under Song Mi-hyeon.
He looked understandably flustered.
Song Mi-hyeon quickly released Gwang-jin’s collar, waved her hands frantically, and said,
“Ah, no—it’s not what it looks like! Don’t misunderstand. Heh heh! Right?”
“Yes, yes—of course!”
The staff chimed in unison.
“…Ah, sure. It’s fine.”
Better not get involved—it’ll just get complicated.
The rider nodded reluctantly, scratched his forehead, and asked,
“Um… is Editor Go Gwang-jin here?”
“Yeah? That’s me.”
Gwang-jin raised his hand. The rider thrust forward an envelope and said,
“Quick delivery from someone named Shin Pil-ho. Said you’d know what it is.”
In that instant, Gwang-jin’s eyes widened.
“G-give it here.”
Snatch!
He grabbed the envelope and ripped it open frantically.
“I’ll… head out then.”
The rider left the office. Gwang-jin pulled out the manuscript pages inside, held them toward Song Mi-hyeon, and shouted,
“See? It came right on time! Fix the cover, Director!”
“Too late—I already called. We’re going without it.”
“Please! Writer Shin probably stayed up all night for this—just one phone call!”
“The truck’s gone, you idiot. It arrived after 3 p.m.—what do you expect me to do?”
“Director! A writer poured his soul into this manuscript… and you’re just going to ignore it?”
Gwang-jin’s face turned murderous. Song Mi-hyeon wrinkled her brow and replied in a cold voice.
“Gwang-jin, I know how you feel… but do we really need to go this far for Writer Shin Pil-ho?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Let’s be honest—is Shin Pil-ho really an artist we need that badly for this magazine?”
“Huh? What’s that supposed to—”
“We’re a shonen magazine. A shonen magazine. I admit Shin Pil-ho has skill. But you know his stuff doesn’t sell. And above all… it’s not fun. It’s just not fun.”
A cold, blunt statement.
Of course, Mi-hyeon understood Gwang-jin’s feelings too.
If they had the luxury, she wouldn’t mind giving Shin Pil-ho more chances.
But…
‘We have to survive.’
With the Korean comic industry crying out in pain almost daily,
Song Mi-hyeon was simply someone who would do anything to keep <New Chance>—a candle flickering in the wind—alive.
“…So you’re saying you won’t even read the manuscript he stayed up all night for and just let it go like this?”
Gwang-jin shook the pages again.
His glare at Mi-hyeon carried something almost murderous.
‘This guy’s about to hit someone.’
Sigh.
Mi-hyeon let out a heavy breath, took the manuscript from Gwang-jin, and said,
“Fine. I’ll read it.”
It’s probably nothing special anyway.
That’s just how Shin Pil-ho’s work was.
Flip, flip.
She turned the pages, scanning them with her eyes.
How many pages had she gone through?
“Hm?”
Wrinkles formed on Mi-hyeon’s forehead, then a serious glint appeared in her eyes.
Flip-flip, flip.
Her hand sped up.
When she finally reached the last page…
“…”
Song Mi-hyeon checked the manuscript again and again.
She must have gone through it three or four times.
“Haaa… this is driving me crazy.”
She let out a long sigh, stared at the ceiling for a moment, and muttered,
‘What the hell?’
‘Did something happen?’
Everyone watched her with puzzled faces.
Just then—
Step, step.
Mi-hyeon walked to the nearest desk, placed the manuscript down, and picked up the phone.
“Ah, yes—printing house? This is Jangsan Publishing—we called earlier. Yes, sorry, but please stop printing for a bit. We need to redo the cover and add a missing manuscript. Yes, yes—sorry about this.”
Click.
She hung up, and the office fell into silence.
‘What’s going on?’
‘Huh?’
Everyone blinked at Mi-hyeon.
Then she snapped her fingers sharply and said,
“The manuscript from Writer Shin Pil-ho just arrived—scan it and get the lettering in fast. Redo the cover to match.”
“Huh? But suddenly—”
“Just do it—we’re out of time. Come on, hurry!”
Damn it, Shin Pil-ho… what the hell kind of manuscript did he bring?
A complicated expression crossed Mi-kyung’s face as she sighed.
***
A few days later, in a tiny five-pyeong bookstore tucked in a neighborhood corner.
Ding!
A high school boy with a buzz cut and a backpack walked in.
“Grandpa, is the new <New Chance> out?”
“Yeah, probably over there.”
At the owner’s nod, the boy naturally headed that way.
When he reached the <New Chance> stack…
“What? <Aureka> is on hiatus?”
The boy’s face twisted.
Because on this issue’s cover was the following text:
[<Aureka> on hiatus. But this week we’ve got something even stronger! Shin Pil-ho’s “Comics Are First Love (one-shot)” begins now!]