Chapter 24 – I Need to Find a Job
A short while later, inside the house.
Click!
As Min-hyuk opened the door and stepped in, Hong Mi-seon, who had been setting the table in the kitchen, turned and looked straight at him.
“Where have you been?”
“Ah, I went out to pick you up, Mom. Guess we missed each other.”
“This kid… why are you suddenly doing things you never did before?”
Mi-seon let out a small snort.
But somehow, beneath that, Min-hyuk could clearly sense the faint, lingering fatigue on her face.
A sticky, heavy kind of tiredness that hit him especially hard.
“Mom, you should rest. I’ll finish setting the table.”
“No need, kid. Why do you keep trying to do things you’ve never done?”
When Min-hyuk moved to her side and started helping anyway, a wrinkle formed between Mi-seon’s brows.
“Mom.”
“What now.”
“Please don’t work so late.”
“Hm…? Oh, it’s not like that. Are you worried because I’ve been coming home late lately? There’s just an auntie at the restaurant who’s sick right now, so I’m covering her shifts. It’ll go back to normal soon.”
“Ah… really?”
“Yes, really.”
It was a blatant lie.
But he couldn’t say he knew.
–Mom, just stop working so much!
–Kid, my body’s perfectly fine. Why wouldn’t I work? If I don’t work, I’ll age even faster.
That’s exactly how it had been in his previous life.
Even after he got a job at a public corporation and started earning enough to give her pocket money… she stubbornly refused every time.
Even when her back hurt, even when she limped from knee pain.
Hong Mi-seon had stubbornly insisted that she would handle her own living expenses and pocket money herself.
And now, on top of everything…
The fact that he was going to Korea Animation High School had been added to the pile.
If a third-year middle schooler like him told her not to work or to take it easy, there was no way she’d listen.
But the 34-year-old Kang Min-hyuk… knew exactly how to handle this.
‘It’s not enough to just say it. I have to show her.’
So that Mom wouldn’t have to overwork.
So that she wouldn’t have to worry like this.
He had to give her the belief that… Kang Min-hyuk could handle everything on his own.
“Mom.”
“Yeah.”
“Thank you. For letting me go to Korea Animation High School.”
“Why are you saying that again?”
“Just… because I’m really grateful. That’s all.”
“Huuuh… fine. Let’s just eat.”
“Yes.”
On both their faces, a complicated mix of bitterness and smiles flickered and crossed.
After dinner ended like that.
“I’ll do the dishes.”
“Alright… I’ll leave it to you today. Mom’s tired.”
“Yes~ Go get some rest.”
While Min-hyuk washed the dishes, Hong Mi-seon showered and went into her room.
Shwaaaaa!
As he rinsed the plates under the running water, Min-hyuk stared blankly for a moment, lost in thought.
‘Have I been too thoughtless until now?’
The prize money of 5 million won.
He had thought that would be a big help, that it wouldn’t be much of a burden…
But it seemed Hong Mi-seon thought differently.
‘Yeah… 5 million won isn’t exactly a huge amount of money.’
Tuition, dormitory fees, pocket money for me.
If you add it all up, it disappears like dust.
And that was only thinking about the expenses for himself alone.
Right now his body was just a third-year middle schooler…
But the original him was also the 34-year-old Kang Min-hyuk.
Which meant—
‘I wish I could help contribute to the household.’
He knew it was greedy, but he couldn’t help wanting to ease even a little of the burden on Hong Mi-seon right now.
In the end… it came down to earning money.
‘But if I just take any part-time job, it might interfere with drawing comics.’
He wanted to become the greatest comic artist in the world.
But he also didn’t want to burden Hong Mi-seon any further…
And at the same time, he wanted to help support the household.
The dilemma settled heavily in his chest.
He knew full well that this was an absurd, greed-filled wish, but he still wanted to make it happen.
‘A job where I can earn money while drawing…’
As he rinsed the last plate, memories from his days as a Bluehouse artist flooded back—stories he’d heard at comic artist gatherings.
–Me? Back in college, I did a ton of caricature part-time jobs. You can find them at Everland or places like that. The more you do, the more you earn. My record was fifteen in one day.
–I drew textbook illustrations. The rates are fixed, so the work is clean and straightforward.
Caricature gigs, illustrations for various books, and other odd jobs like that.
But there was one small problem…
–How do you get them? Nine out of ten times, it’s all about connections.
–Or sometimes they come through SNS.
This was 2005. There was no SNS to promote his drawings on, and he had zero connections.
On top of that, realistically speaking, who would trust a commission to a mere third-year middle schooler?
The other thing that immediately came to mind…
–Running a booth at Comic World was pretty lucrative too. Feels like bragging, but… ahem. I once cleared a million won in sales in a single day.
–A—a million won?
Stories about making and selling goods based on trending works at secondary creation events like Comic World or fair-type conventions…
‘Too much risk.’
Min-hyuk shook his head firmly.
The upfront costs for producing goods were high, and he had zero experience or sense in that area.
There was no guarantee that just because he could draw good comics, the goods would sell. It wasn’t an easy choice.
‘Everything’s blocked.’
A pointless sigh escaped him.
His mind was that of a 34-year-old Kang Min-hyuk, but his actual body and circumstances were far, far behind—creating a suffocating sense of frustration.
It felt like he’d been charging full speed ahead only to slam into a dead end.
“Huuuuh…”
After finishing the dishes, Min-hyuk wiped his hands on the dish towel.
He glanced for a moment toward Hong Mi-seon’s room, where the sound of her snoring drifted out, then returned to his own room.
Thump.
He collapsed into his chair, sat at the desk, and began absentmindedly doodling random thoughts across the open sketchbook in front of him.
Well, no immediate answer came.
“If only the webtoon market had opened already… I’d jump straight into serialization.”
The easiest way to make money while drawing comics was, obviously, drawing comics.
In fact, the 34-year-old Kang Min-hyuk had made his living exactly that way.
The problem was that this Korea was still 2005…
And the webtoon market wouldn’t properly take off for at least another two years.
Cruel timing.
“Hm…?”
But at that moment.
As if something had just clicked, Min-hyuk’s eyes suddenly widened into perfect circles.
“Why didn’t I think of that earlier?”
Making money with comics didn’t have to mean webtoons, did it?
In an instant, an old memory surfaced in his mind.
–Min-hyuk! If you ever think about serializing, contact me first—no matter what! I mean it!
The drunken words of one editor who had made a fool of himself in front of him back then.
Screeech!
Min-hyuk yanked open the desk drawer and pulled out a single business card.
Go Gwang-jin
–New Chance Editorial Department, Team 1, Editor
016-829-23xx
Crazyzin@chance@com
“Let’s give it a shot.”
The corners of Min-hyuk’s mouth lifted high with confidence.
***
Jangsan Publishing, 3rd floor, New Chance Editorial Department conference room.
“Haaaaah… Jae-kyung, is that really true?”
“Yes, sir.”
At a single sentence from Song Mi-hyeon, the head of the New Chance editorial department, dark shadows fell across the faces of every editor in the room.
Because…
“No way… If <Aureka> ends, then what?! Did you talk to the artist again? Beg him to extend the serialization a little longer?”
“I-I’m sorry… I went to see him, I begged, but… he was extremely firm. He said if he dragged it out any further, the story would be ruined. He insisted he has to end it with this episode, no matter what…”
“Haaaaah… I’m going crazy.”
<Aureka>.
Even as the Korean comic industry was collapsing all around them, this was the bestseller that consistently sold 100,000 copies per volume.
It was the one pillar still allowing New Chance to hold its ground against Jump Comics, which had slashed Korean serialization slots to maximize profits and pushed Japanese comics to over 80% of their lineup.
And now that very work was going to end…
For the editorial department, it was no different from a thunderbolt striking out of nowhere.
“How many chapters until the end?”
“…He said it’ll wrap up somewhere between 5 to 10 more chapters.”
“Damn it, less than two months?!”
Grind! Grind!
Song Mi-hyeon, the department head, popped a candy from her pocket into her mouth and crunched it roughly, swallowing the shards.
Veins bulged on her forehead as if she might explode any second, her face flushed red like a demon’s.
The atmosphere felt suffocating, like the air itself was choking.
Yet despite her outward appearance, Song Mi-hyeon was thinking with cold clarity.
She pressed hard on her temples with two fingers.
‘So the day has finally come.’
It had already been seven years since <Aureka> began serialization.
She had always known this day would arrive eventually.
It had just come sooner than expected.
Still, she understood it perfectly well.
This was something that had been bound to happen sooner or later—a ticking time bomb.
If they couldn’t find a new artist to carry the magazine’s popularity, New Chance would eventually collapse completely.
No… to be precise, it had already begun to crumble.
And without a pillar, it would shatter into pieces and scatter.
‘Our position has already been shaky lately…’
A deep sigh escaped her.
In its heyday, the comic publishing division had once thrived too… but that was back in the days when tigers still smoked pipes.
These days, they were constantly being pushed around by the educational comic department, and even the self-help book sellers looked down on them.
And now, in this situation… the last fortress, <Aureka>, was about to fall?
‘Doomsday is coming.’
Her mind cooled.
As if searching for the best possible path in this crisis.
The wild instincts that had carried her from a lowly editor all the way to the throne of the comic publishing department… led her to a conclusion.
“Jae-kyung, set up a meeting with the artist this week. I’ll meet him personally.”
“You’re going to try persuading him yourself, ma’am?”
Mi-hyeon shook her head slowly.
“That’s impossible. That man’s stubbornness? There’s no way I can change his mind. I’m just… trying to buy some time.”
“Buy time? In what way…?”
“After the finale, ask him to draw a side story with the popular characters. Since he’s already serialized so much, he probably won’t refuse that much. We’ll offer a thicker advance too. That way we can drag it out for another month or two.”
At that moment, Go Gwang-jin, who had been listening quietly, stroked his chin and spoke.
“In the meantime… we launch a new work that can inherit <Aureka>’s popularity. Is that it?”
“Exactly. Right now, that’s the only way. Starting this very moment, every editor in this room… call every ace artist you know. Explain the situation and take whatever they’ve got ready. If it’s a proper work, tell them we’ll push it with everything we have. We’ll give them the absolute best treatment in the industry.”
“Ah, yes!”
The editors nodded with tense expressions.
They all knew.
The conclusion of <Aureka>’s serialization.
For a magazine called New Chance, this was nothing short of a catastrophe.
But some of them saw this crisis differently.
The editors understood.
‘Is she trying to create a new star?’
‘It’s war.’
‘This is my chance to get my artist in.’
This could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to make an unprecedented achievement.
Bang bang bang!
Song Mi-hyeon slammed the table and said,
“Alright, everyone, no time to waste—move fast! Bring in every work you can get your hands on. Until we launch, we’ll hold editorial meetings nonstop!”
“Yes!”
“Understood!”
The editors’ eyes burned with fighting spirit as they filed out of the conference room.
Once everyone had left,
“Um, ma’am.”
“What.”
“Is Shin Pil-ho’s new work not enough?”
Go Gwang-jin looked straight at Mi-hyeon and asked.
Right now, Shin Pil-ho was already scheduled for a new serialization.
Yet the fact that she had said all this meant… she clearly wasn’t satisfied with just that.
“Go Gwang-jin, our magazine… is a shonen magazine. You know that, right?”
“Huuuuh… yes, I understand.”
A short, clear answer.
Gwang-jin left the conference room and headed back to his desk.
‘Even with Pil-ho, there’s still a difference in tone and color that’s hard to ignore.’
The upcoming work was definitely a good comic… but it still wasn’t enough to carry the magazine as the flagship title.
‘So now… which artist should I try contacting…’
Gwang-jin stroked his chin as he flipped through his contacts.
Then—
Vrrr vrrr! Vrrr vrrr!
Suddenly, his phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
Gwang-jin tilted his head and pressed the answer button.
“Hello, this is Go Gwang-jin from New Chance.”
–Hello. This is Kang Min-hyuk. You know, the middle schooler who assisted Shin Pil-ho sunbae-nim back then.
“Hm? Kang artist? Wait… ah! Kang artist!!”
An unexpected call.
Gwang-jin’s eyes widened in surprise.