Chapter 27 – Giving an Opportunity
Inside the New Chance editorial department conference room.
“Today’s manuscript is from Park So-gi artist—‘The Age of the Wrestler.’ I’ve placed copies on everyone’s seats, so please read through them, and we’ll start the meeting afterward.”
“Okay.”
At Song Jae-kyung’s serious tone, Department Head Song Mi-hyeon snapped her fingers and said,
“Alright, everyone—let’s read.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The staff began flipping through the pages one by one.
And among them was Go Gwang-jin, the editor in charge of Kang Min-hyuk.
‘Hmm… this is actually pretty interesting.’
As he turned page after page, Gwang-jin’s expression gradually darkened.
This was Park So-gi’s new work.
The same artist who had won the Newcomer Award at last year’s Korea Manhwa Awards in 2002…
And his draftsmanship was unrivaled—second to none.
For Gwang-jin, the tension was inevitable.
If this artist’s work took the slot, then Kang Min-hyuk—the one Gwang-jin was currently pushing—might not even get a chance at all.
‘The protagonist is a wrestler, and the world includes goblins.’
Park So-gi’s new comic was set in the Joseon era, blended with fantastical elements.
The story followed a lowborn protagonist with a natural talent for ssireum (traditional Korean wrestling), who saves cursed yangban nobles by wrestling demons and searches for his long-lost parents.
Honestly, the worldbuilding felt unfamiliar, and it was hard to empathize with the protagonist’s circumstances.
But…
‘The manuscript quality is overwhelming.’
There was a reason Park So-gi had earned nicknames like “Korean Miura” (after the legendary detail-obsessed Japanese artist).
His art was far beyond what a newcomer should be capable of—raw destructive power that could stand up against any artist.
Especially the final scene of chapter 1, where the protagonist delivers his first headbutt to a goblin…
‘Damn… that was insane.’
Just that one panel carried enough impact to crush everything else.
By the time everyone finished reading the entire manuscript…
“Huuuuh…”
This… isn’t going to be easy.
A heavy sigh escaped Gwang-jin’s lips.
Then, Song Mi-hyeon spoke.
“Everyone finished? Thoughts?”
“It’s… incredibly high quality.”
“I was honestly blown away. The sheer force, the overwhelming presence… truly Park So-gi.”
As each editor spoke, Gwang-jin’s face grew darker.
But just as he seemed about to say something, lips moving for a long moment—
Tap! Tap!
Song Mi-hyeon smacked the table with her palm and said,
“No vague comments about quality or force. Tell me straight: is this fun? Will it sell in our magazine? That’s what I want to hear.”
“……”
For a moment, silence fell over the conference room.
Everyone felt the weight.
One wrong word here, and the responsibility would fall entirely on the speaker’s shoulders.
And saying something negative could also create friction with Song Jae-kyung, the editor who had brought in this manuscript.
And the one who—true to form—never read the room and just spoke his mind—
“Honestly, I don’t think this will work.”
—was the thug of the comic industry, Go Gwang-jin.
“……”
Everyone’s eyes widened in shock.
The unspoken reaction was clear: ‘You dare say that?’
But Gwang-jin, as if he had already made up his mind, adjusted his leather jacket and continued.
“I agree the premise is fresh, and the manuscript quality is insane. And… to be honest, I do think it’s fun.”
Song Jae-kyung, Park So-gi’s editor, furrowed his brows as he listened quietly, then asked,
“If it’s fun, then why do you think it won’t work, Deputy Go? I’d appreciate a more detailed explanation.”
Gwang-jin stroked his chin and answered.
“…We’re a shonen magazine.”
“Hm?”
“Our main readership is mid-teens, give or take—maybe up to early-to-mid 20s at the absolute highest. But this work… I feel like you’d need to be at least mid-20s, around our age, to really enjoy it. That’s why I’m against it as a replacement for <Aureka>’s slot.”
“……”
The conference room fell into dead silence once more.
Just as Park So-gi’s editor’s brows twitched with visible frustration—
Song Mi-hyeon let out a long, heavy sigh and spoke.
“Go Gwang-jin… well said.”
“Huh?”
“What’s so hard about this that everyone’s beating around the bush? Who doesn’t know Park So-gi draws insanely well? What I’m asking is—can this replace <Aureka>’s popularity? Can it actually appeal to our readers? Isn’t that right?”
As Song Mi-hyeon pushed her glasses up and pressed the question, the editors’ heads bowed even lower.
“Ahem… sorry.”
“I personally thought it was fun, but…”
As the atmosphere sank heavily, Song Jae-kyung gathered strength in his eyes and spoke again.
“I understand what you mean, ma’am. But I really want to serialize this work. I mean it.”
“What’s your reason?”
“Park So-gi is one of the rare artists in Korea who obsesses over manuscript quality. He’s diligent, and his fundamentals are solid across the board.”
Jae-kyung’s voice gradually rose.
“I partially agree that it doesn’t perfectly fit our magazine’s code…! But even taking that into account, I believe this manuscript is worth serializing.”
His tone carried an unmistakable resolve—he wasn’t backing down an inch.
Even Gwang-jin subtly licked his lips and closed his mouth.
‘He’s 100% serious too.’
The protectiveness toward his assigned artist, the care he put into it.
Gwang-jin had once been just as stubborn about Shin Pil-ho, so he didn’t add anything more.
In most cases like this, the editor themselves already knows.
They know the work doesn’t quite suit a shonen magazine, that while the art is outstanding, certain parts feel a bit ambiguous.
But Song Jae-kyung was shouting from the back.
Please see this artist’s potential.
Please give this artist a chance.
At that moment, Song Mi-hyeon let out a small, wry smile and replied,
“Who said it has no value?”
“Huh?”
“If Park So-gi’s work has no value… then how many artists in Korea actually do?”
“But ma’am, you said you’re not planning to serialize it…”
“I said it doesn’t suit New Chance. Which means there’s no need to force it into a shonen magazine, right?”
“……”
While Song Jae-kyung tilted his head in confusion, Song Mi-hyeon tore off a sheet of paper, quickly scribbled down a phone number and an email address, and slid it across the table.
“This is…”
“The phone number is for a translator who’s crazy good at Japanese. The email is the contact for the editorial department of <Young King>.”
“What does that…?”
“Haa, Jae-kyung, why are you so slow today? You’re usually quick. Take this manuscript, finish the storyboard up to chapter 3, translate it, and send it to <Young King>. I’ll cover the translation fee.”
“…Are you being serious, ma’am?”
Song Mi-hyeon furrowed her brows deeply and answered,
“Have you ever seen me joke about something like this? <Young King> is struggling with submissions right now. They specifically asked me to let them know if there’s any decent Korean artist. So give it a shot. It has more than enough chance of passing their review.”
“…….”
Everyone in the room knew she wasn’t joking.
Song Mi-hyeon wasn’t just in charge of domestic magazines and published comics—she was deeply involved in almost every imported work handled by Jangsan Publishing.
Having close connections with overseas editors was practically a given for her.
Song Jae-kyung’s pupils trembled violently.
“Th-thank you, ma’am.”
“Thank me for what? I’m just trying to score some points with them too, so don’t overreact. Anyone else have something to say?”
“Ah… no, ma’am.”
“Then get back to work. I’ve got another meeting right here.”
Song Mi-hyeon waved her hand dismissively, and one by one, the editors filed out of the conference room.
Most of them still looked stunned.
Especially Song Jae-kyung… he stared down at the note in his hand with a face overflowing with hope.
‘Krr… the department head is badass.’
So cool. Seriously, so damn cool.
As Go Gwang-jin’s lips trembled with excitement and he was about to leave the room—
“Gwang-jin.”
“…Yes?”
He stopped at the department head’s call.
“How’s the preparation going for the work you’re pushing for the <Aureka> slot?”
“Yes, actually I’ve got an artist I think is really good.”
“Confident you can get it through?”
“Yes. It’s definitely going to pass.”
Gwang-jin flashed a thumbs-up with full confidence.
Song Mi-hyeon gave a small chuckle.
“You little punk… get out of here.”
“Yessir!”
With an exaggerated salute, Gwang-jin strode out of the conference room.
By the time he returned to his desk…
‘I should probably check in soon.’
He was starting to get curious about what his future star artist was preparing.
Gwang-jin picked up his phone and selected the contact labeled “Kang Min-hyuk.”
***
Deep into the night, the clock pointing to 2 a.m.
The light in Kang Min-hyuk’s room was still on.
‘Hmm… I need to flesh this part out more.’
Scritch scratch, scritch scratch.
Min-hyuk moved his pencil nonstop across the sketchbook, jotting down and organizing ideas.
He was brainstorming and structuring the next work he would submit to New Chance.
Even though it was nearly dawn, the reason Min-hyuk was rushing like this was…
–Artist Min-hyuk, how about we talk about your work sometime soon? Are you very busy?
–No, it’s almost finished.
–Really? How much time do you need?
–Three days… no, two days should do it.
–Okay, then let’s meet then. I’ll come to you.
Because he had already made a firm appointment with his editor, Go Gwang-jin.
Although he hadn’t even started the actual manuscript yet, there was a reason he had scheduled this meeting so urgently.
‘It’s better to talk as much as possible with the editor before submitting the manuscript.’
The artist creates the work, but it’s the editor who has to present and advocate for it in the editorial meeting.
For the editor to truly understand his work, give proper feedback, and help raise the quality to the maximum, the first meeting needed to happen as early as possible.
Thanks to that, Min-hyuk was burning the midnight oil with the full intention of sleeping through school tomorrow.
“Huuuuh…”
Min-hyuk looked down at the sketchbook where he had been scribbling furiously.
Among the notes, several key sentences stood out.
- Protagonist is a male high school student.
- Incorporate school/academy codes while blending in the early battle royale + game-like hooking elements from GETZ.
- Plan for a story that can conclude within 2 years—keep the pacing relatively short.
- Include plenty of visual elements that Korean readers can immediately relate to and empathize with.
- A single theme / message that ties all these elements together.
He had thrown in a lot of ideas, but…
When he put them all together, one word summarized everything.
“Forgiveness.”
Scritch scratch.
The moment he wrote that title on the page, Min-hyuk’s heart pounded.
It was still just a rough gemstone in his mind, unpolished and raw.
But once he refined and shaped it into a proper jewel…
He could hardly wait to see how people would react when they saw it—he was going crazy just thinking about that future.
‘Alright then… let’s start with the characters.’
Min-hyuk grinned as he flipped to a new page.
He began jotting down brief settings for the characters he would draw and roughly sketching their visuals.
Not trying to make everything 100% perfect from the start, but rather letting his hand move freely first and using that as a baseline.
“Hmm… since I need irony between the protagonist and the one who torments him, their visuals should contrast sharply…”
“The heroine should have a completely alien feel to her as well.”
Min-hyuk muttered to himself nonstop, the corners of his mouth rising higher and higher.
To anyone watching, he might have looked half-mad.
Just as he was deeply immersed in the work—
Knock knock knock!
Suddenly, a knock came at the door…
“Min-hyuk… are you still awake?”
Creak…
The door opened, and Hong Mi-seon appeared in the doorway.
“Ah, well…”
An awkward expression floated across Min-hyuk’s face.