Chapter 19 – Genius Above Genius
Flip! Flip!
With every page Ma Dong-hyun turned, the corners of his mouth crept higher toward his ears.
‘This… is beyond expectations.’
Han Yu-ra’s work—which he’d thought would do well—was worthy of being called something far more than a middle schooler’s.
‘Direction is solid, drawing stable, screentone used sparingly to boost density.’
The first thing that struck him was the overall completeness of the manuscript.
Beautiful characters drawn on a firm foundation.
Yet not the cookie-cutter academy style—hers had a unique flair all her own.
The details in clothing and backgrounds were pushed to the extreme, making it hard to believe this was finished in just eight hours.
‘Cut-to-cut layout, speech bubble placement—excellent. Understanding of page pacing is outstanding too.’
From top-left to bottom-right.
Cuts and bubbles placed with the reader’s eye flow in mind.
Buildup with proper rhythm, exploding into impactful panels at the right moments.
Extremely skillful.
It could pass for a pro’s work.
And that wasn’t all.
‘The content… isn’t something a middle schooler would handle.’
The story itself was excellent.
She’d metaphorically portrayed her father—the genius painter—as a “god”…
[Heavenly Father, God of the Sun. Please look kindly upon my devotion… accept this offering.]
Han Yu-ra herself as a priestess offering sacrifices to gain the god’s favor.
But the god paid her no attention.
[Pathetic. Such offerings…]
The god, uninterested in her sacrifices, only looked ahead.
The characters didn’t express emotions through dialogue…
But facial expressions.
The gaps between cuts conveyed the priestess’s frustration and helplessness.
Outstanding.
Outstanding didn’t even cover it.
Flip! Flip!
Dong-hyun turned pages faster.
The priestess kept offering sacrifices to be acknowledged by the god.
Livestock, treasures, all the world’s riches—even human sacrifice.
As the comic progressed, the god’s bored, expressionless face contrasted sharply with the priestess’s increasingly demonic one.
With four pages left…
[Father God, please watch this dance. This will be… my final offering to you…]
The priestess danced on a cliff as the sun set.
Dual swords in hand—an precarious sword dance.
Yet the god’s attention never reached her.
He was simply… distracted by the many other things in the world.
Page 17.
[Here… goodbye.]
Crunch!
The priestess plunged a sword into her own body after finishing the dance.
She staggered forward and fell off the cliff.
Crunch!
A sound effect over a blacked-out panel.
Signaling her death.
And the final page.
Only then did the god’s gaze reach the priestess.
But he merely said, expressionless,
[Foolish girl.]
Father God – Han Yu-ra –
Seeing the title scribbled in the corner of the last page…
Shiver!
A chill ran down Ma Dong-hyun’s spine.
Goosebumps rose on his arms; his mouth trembled.
‘A genius. A genius far beyond what I imagined!’
He knew it instinctively.
He had truly found the raw diamond that could change the future of Korean comics.
“Heh heh, heh heh heh! Ahahaha!”
Laughter spilled uncontrollably from Ma Dong-hyun’s mouth.
Like a villain from a shonen comic.
But what could he do?
He was overjoyed—insanely happy.
He had finally found the meaning behind personally funding this mad contest.
—Han Yu-ra wins the Golden Bear at the Angoulême Comics Festival. The first Asian artist to…
—Yu-ra says without her mentor Ma Dong-hyun’s help, she could never have come this far, expressing deep affection for her teacher…
Ma Dong-hyun’s delusions soared to another world, a brilliant future unfolding in his mind.
Ma Dong-hyun’s name—no, the name of Korean comics—echoing across distant foreign lands.
The Taegeukgi fluttering, the national anthem playing, TV shows asking visiting foreign stars “Do you know Han Yu-ra?”—all vividly replaying in his mind.
“Heh heh! Good, good. That’s how it should be!”
Ma Dong-hyun’s laughter wouldn’t stop.
Just then—
“Um… Chair, are you okay?”
“Huh? Yeah?”
A voice from the side yanked his awareness back to reality.
He turned to see the student helping collect manuscripts.
“Ah… sorry. It’s nothing—don’t mind me.”
“Should I collect the rest?”
“No, I’ll do it. Heh heh!”
Dong-hyun let out an awkward laugh, slipped Han Yu-ra’s manuscript into an envelope, and sealed it.
“Let’s see… next is #59, Kang Min-hyuk.”
He naturally picked up the next bundle to put in an envelope.
“Hm?”
His eyes stopped.
On the very first page of the stack, a single drawing caught his eye.
[I hated Mom to death.]
[Without even knowing how stupid that was.]
A young child sat in the corner of a small room, looking toward the viewer.
The room was littered with comics and cup ramen trash. Chains wrapped tightly around the cheerfully smiling child.
High density in the art, solid blacks covering the page—creating an eerie atmosphere in just one panel.
“Hmm…”
Better than expected… no, honestly pretty damn good.
Was it the opening line that hooked him?
Ma Dong-hyun set the envelope down, held Kang Min-hyuk’s manuscript with both hands, and started reading.
Flip! Flip!
The pages turned faster and faster.
“Huh? Wha…?”
His head tilted.
As if he’d seen an alien or ghost—pure bewilderment.
“What’s wrong, Chair?”
“J-just wait a sec.”
Flip, flip!
Ma Dong-hyun finished it, flipped back to the first page, and read again.
After two or three more passes…
“What the hell… is this?”
Shock spread across his face.
***
In front of the parking lot of Korea Animation High School, under an orange sunset sky.
“Ughhh… so tired…”
“Good job, son. Get in quick.”
Parents picking up kids everywhere.
“Did you submit okay?”
“I finished… but ugh… not sure if it was good.”
“If you don’t know, how should I? You have to do well.”
Nagging parents.
Praising parents—every kind of reaction.
“Let’s eat something delicious. Dad knows a place.”
“What’s on the menu?”
“There’s a fresh sashimi place nearby…”
“I hate sashimi!”
Meanwhile, in one corner of the parking lot.
Kang Min-hyuk sat on a bench, staring blankly and muttering,
“Everyone’s lucky…”
Lives where parents supported whatever the kid wanted to do, without worrying about family circumstances.
‘Well… they probably have their own troubles…’
But honestly—from Min-hyuk’s perspective—how could he not envy it?
‘Hong Mi-seon doesn’t have the luxury to cheer me on right now… and that so-called dad isn’t even around.’
Min-hyuk gave a bitter smile and muttered,
“Pathetic, Min-hyuk. Jealous of middle schoolers—how low.”
He tapped his feet.
He knew well.
He couldn’t blame Hong Mi-seon for not letting him pursue comics early.
She’d just done her best to make sure he and his child could live well.
He knew that.
So his shortcomings.
His regrets over what he couldn’t do.
They stuck like gum, refusing to peel off.
“Damn life.”
This time… I’ll live it right.
Most cars had left the parking lot.
“Hm?”
Then in one corner—a familiar face caught his eye.
“…”
Han Yu-ra.
The future popular artist—a bit rude, but a genius.
Min-hyuk stared blankly.
“What’s she doing?”
A strange smile crept onto Han Yu-ra’s face as she stood there motionless.
If I had to describe it…
Anticipation? Excitement?
Something like that.
A few minutes passed.
Vroom!
The black imported B-brand car pulled into the parking lot.
Han Yu-ra bit her lip hard, eyes widening for a moment.
When the car stopped in front of her—
“Miss, I’m here to pick you up.”
“…Where’s Dad?”
“Ah, he had a meeting with gallery people… He told me to come alone.”
As if it never happened, Han Yu-ra’s expression hardened.
‘Huh… so that’s it.’
A parent who skips a big event for their daughter, breaking a promise without even showing up… some cliché like that?
It felt like peeking into someone else’s secrets.
A slight weight settled in Min-hyuk’s chest.
‘Everyone’s got their own struggles, I guess.’
A 34-year-old getting petty in a parking lot—felt a tiny bit sorry.
Well, he had to carry on Senior Shin Pil-ho’s legacy (?), so no choice.
How much time had he killed in the parking lot?
“Mom’s late.”
Nearly 20 minutes—no car.
‘Guess she’s busy with work.’
No phone, so no way to contact her.
Maybe he should figure out how to get home alone.
He had some pocket money… walk to the nearest bus stop and take the bus.
“Let’s go.”
Min-hyuk picked up his art supply box and trudged forward.
Just as he reached almost the end of the parking lot—
“Kang Min-hyuk!”
“Huh?”
A familiar voice from behind.
He turned.
Through the window of the haphazardly parked Matiz—
Hong Mi-seon, breathing heavily, stared at him.
“Sorry. One last table wouldn’t leave…”
Min-hyuk grinned casually and answered,
“Hey, it’s fine—you didn’t have to come if you’re busy.”
“Fine nothing—I said I’d pick you up. Get in quick.”
Thud!
Min-hyuk sat in the passenger seat, placed the art box on his lap, and sat politely.
Vroom!
The Matiz smoothly headed toward the road.
The fading orange sunlight poured through the window, wrapping Min-hyuk in a strangely warm glow.
“How was it? Draw well?”
“Yeah, I did my best not to tarnish the Hong family name.”
“So… think you’ll win?”
“Win what?”
“You said you’d take the grand prize. Think you will?”
Min-hyuk tapped the art box with his finger, shrugged, and said,
“Of course. Whose son am I?”
“Mom… can’t draw? Doesn’t even like comics much.”
“Come on, that’s not what I meant.”
Thanks to Min-hyuk’s signature cheeky tone, the corners of Hong Mi-seon’s mouth lifted.
“…”
Silence filled the car for a moment.
Vroom!
The Matiz merged onto the wide six-lane road.
Under the reddening sky.
The open city view and wind through the window gave a chest-opening sense of freedom.
Just then, Hong Mi-seon said,
“Good job, son.”
“Huh?”
“You worked hard drawing comics today. Whatever the result… Mom’s proud of you.”
“So… even if I don’t win the grand prize, you’ll let me keep doing comics?”
“That… I’ll think about it.”
Min-hyuk’s sudden jab without warning.
Hong Mi-seon made a troubled face.
‘I really… made the right choice entering this contest.’
A soft smile settled on Min-hyuk’s face.