Chapter 31 – Whew, That Was Tense
Inside the suffocating conference room of New Chance’s editorial department.
Every editor’s gaze was locked onto Go Gwang-jin.
Eyes burning with a mix of hostility and jealousy.
‘Where the hell did that guy dig up such a monster?’
‘Crazy… losing to a middle school third-year? How am I supposed to explain this to my artist?’
That was the thought running through everyone’s mind—which was exactly why Song Mi-hyeon’s question felt like a thin, desperate thread of ugly hope, a last-ditch lifeline stained with sweat.
“Well… I wouldn’t normally bring this up at this stage. But no matter how I think about it, a third-year middle schooler carries too much risk. This isn’t about the fun or quality of the manuscript anymore.”
Song Mi-hyeon adjusted her glasses and continued.
“New Chance may be a biweekly magazine, but still… 18 pages every two weeks. Even seasoned pros barely make it on time, and missed deadlines are common. Can someone with zero experience—a middle school third-year—really handle that? Don’t you think?”
Gwang-jin swallowed hard and answered.
“You don’t need to worry about that.”
“What’s your basis?”
“I just mentioned that Artist Kang Min-hyuk was Shin Pil-ho’s assistant, right?”
“Yes.”
“The period he worked as assistant… was exactly during that week when Shin Pil-ho’s assistants all ran away.”
The moment those words left his mouth, every editor’s eyes widened.
“Huh… wait, then that means…”
“Wasn’t that when they submitted a one-shot together because of <Aureka>’s missed deadline…?”
Murmurs rippled through the room.
Gwang-jin’s lips curled upward as he continued.
“Exactly. The reason Shin Pil-ho artist was able to survive that murderous schedule and deliver the manuscript… was largely because of this kid—no, because of Artist Kang Min-hyuk. And Shin Pil-ho himself actively recommended him.”
“…Hmm. Recommended, you say.”
Song Mi-hyeon stroked her chin. The other editors blinked.
They weren’t fools. They’d all been editors for years.
‘Come to think of it… that one-shot from back then… the art style and overall vibe were a little different from Shin Pil-ho’s usual work.’
‘Yeah… now that I look at it, this art does feel somewhat similar to Shin Pil-ho’s recent style.’
They could tell Gwang-jin wasn’t bluffing.
Song Mi-hyeon nodded slowly and said,
“Fine. That’s all good. But… is that everything?”
“Hm?”
“What you just said only proves he’s capable as an assistant. It doesn’t prove he can professionally deliver his own work on time, week after week, does it?”
A nitpicky, almost obsessive question.
“I agree that’s correct.”
But Gwang-jin didn’t push back.
Because…
–New Chance will keep going even if a nuclear bomb drops, but missed deadlines are unacceptable. That’s the bare minimum respect and promise we owe our readers.
He knew Song Mi-hyeon’s usual stance very well.
She rarely got angry… except when manuscripts were late. Then her face would turn beet red and she’d explode with fury.
So even with a dazzling gem right in front of her, it was only natural for her to verify whether it was real until the very end.
“That’s why I’d like to dispel your concerns with a work Artist Kang Min-hyuk created himself. May I show you something briefly?”
“If you’ve got something, bring it out quickly.”
“Yes.”
Thud!
As if he’d been waiting for this exact moment, Gwang-jin pulled out his laptop and connected it to the conference room projector.
Click click!
He opened a webpage and displayed a comic on the screen.
“As I mentioned earlier, Artist Kang Min-hyuk won the grand prize at the Korea Animation High School competition. This is that very work.”
“Hmm…”
Everyone’s eyes fixed on the screen.
‘This manuscript… isn’t bad at all.’
‘The density is a bit lower compared to Brave King… but the level is still impressive.’
‘The directing is bold.’
It couldn’t match the quality of Brave King they had just seen… but the grand prize-winning “Chains That Connect Us” was more than enough to qualify as professional work.
While everyone was glued to the screen, Gwang-jin spoke again.
“For reference, the time limit for that competition was 8 hours. The theme—‘Parents’—was announced on the spot.”
“……”
In an instant, silence blanketed the conference room.
Brows furrowed. Lips bitten.
Everyone understood perfectly what Gwang-jin’s words implied.
‘Crazy… he did that in 8 hours?’
‘Is that even physically possible?’
The middle school third-year Gwang-jin had brought in… was a monster far beyond what they had imagined.
‘Damn it… we’re screwed.’
‘There’s no way we can beat this with our works…’
More than half of the responsible editors’ spirits were already broken.
It felt like facing a natural disaster—something unstoppable and inevitable.
“What you just said… is all true? Deputy Go Gwang-jin?”
“Yes. I swear on my position. Artist Kang Min-hyuk is the real deal.”
“…Alright. I understand.”
Scribble scribble!
Song Mi-hyeon checked off a score on her sheet with a ballpoint pen.
“Then let’s move on to the next artist.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
A strange atmosphere began to settle over the office.
***
Late afternoon, inside Oh Seung-heon’s room.
Bzzzt bzzzt bzzzt bzz-bzz-bzz♪
Bzzzt— bzzzt bzzzt bzz-bzz-bzz♪
Loud electronic music blared through the room.
In front of the computer.
Oh Seung-heon and Kang Min-hyuk sat side by side, hammering the keyboard at lightning speed.
BAM!
“Nice shoooooot!”
On screen, Seung-heon’s character sent Min-hyuk’s flying with a baseball bat.
Exaggerated animation—eyes popping out—as the character plunged straight into the sea.
This was the charm of the (classic) game they’d been obsessed with lately: Gun Amprd.
“Aaaah! Damn it!”
“Ahahaha! Kang Min-hyuk, you suck so bad!”
As Min-hyuk clutched his head and screamed, Seung-heon cackled and mocked him.
Min-hyuk glared with demon eyes and shouted,
“One more round! Again!”
“OK!”
Tap tap tap! Tap tap tap!
The keyboard roared again.
But the result didn’t change.
Seung-heon dunked Min-hyuk into the sea, transformed into a gorilla and beat him to death, burned him black with fire…
Completely discarding any trace of humanity, committing atrocities without mercy.
After dozens of rounds like this, Seung-heon yawned and said,
“Hey Kang Min-hyuk, let’s stop. It’s getting boring now.”
“Why… can’t we keep going?”
“Hm? Why do you look like that?”
“What’s wrong with my face?”
Seung-heon’s eyebrows twisted.
Min-hyuk’s face had gone pale, cold sweat beading on his forehead, and his expression was filled with unmistakable anxiety.
And even…
Chatter chatter chatter!
“What did I… even do wrong?”
He was biting his nails roughly, body trembling.
Seung-heon tilted his head and asked,
“Are you… nervous? Worried you won’t pass the review?”
Twitch!
For a moment, Min-hyuk forced an awkward smile and answered,
“…Nervous? No way. My body just feels off, that’s all.”
Of course, it was 100% pure nonsense.
Right now, Min-hyuk was feeling more pressure than ever before.
‘Going up against pros is a completely different story, you idiot.’
There was only one spot.
And that spot just happened to be replacing the magazine’s flagship work, <Aureka>.
Everyone had sharpened their blades and come prepared. Plus, he himself carried the huge penalty of being a third-year middle schooler—no matter what, he couldn’t be certain.
And what made the pressure even heavier…
‘If I fail, Hong Mi-seon’s body will be ground to dust. All because she’s trying to support her son going to Korea Animation High School.’
This wasn’t just about him anymore.
He knew full well what the outcome of this serialization would mean for his mother, Hong Mi-seon.
That’s why he couldn’t possibly feel at ease.
Seung-heon patted Min-hyuk’s back hard and said,
“Hey, it’s fine, it’s fine. If you don’t pass, you don’t pass. Why are you so worked up?”
“…”
No, I have to pass no matter what.
As Min-hyuk’s lips twitched, Seung-heon added one more thing.
“And I saw your manuscript—I know. Your comic is freaking amazing. It’s definitely going to pass.”
“But there’s still no contact…”
“It probably just hasn’t been decided yet. Just wait a little longer. Why are you acting like such a coward?”
Seung-heon’s casual words made Min-hyuk’s expression soften just slightly.
“…Yeah. You’re right.”
He exhaled slowly.
Still… the anxiety didn’t completely disappear.
Because he knew better than anyone.
This wasn’t just a matter of talent or hard work anymore.
It was a war.
And in this war, he had to win—no matter what.
“…Really?”
“Yeah, I’m telling you.”
Well… he’s not wrong.
‘I gave it everything I had, and Brave King… is a fun comic.’
Even if I say so myself, I don’t think it loses at all compared to <Aureka>.
This isn’t arrogance.
‘After all, the comic I drew pulled in concepts and premises refined all the way up to 2024.’
Of course, I can’t say my own effort wasn’t part of it…
But to exaggerate a little, this is borderline over-technology.
If the New Chance editorial department’s judgment isn’t wrong, then without a doubt—absolutely—I’m going to get the serialization.
‘Don’t doubt it. Don’t… doubt…’
As Min-hyuk exhaled deeply, steadying his breathing—
Ring ring ring!
“Huh? It’s Uncle Go Gwang-jin.”
Oh Seung-heon’s phone, lying on the desk, lit up with the name “Go Gwang-jin” flashing across the screen.
Thud!
In an instant, Kang Min-hyuk shot up like lightning and shouted,
“Pick up! Quick!”
“Whoa, why are you yelling?”
“Hurry up and answer!”
“Why don’t you pick it up yourself?”
“…No—no, you check it.”
“Jeez, what’s with you all of a sudden? Hello? It’s Seung-heon. Yeah, he’s right here. Yes, yes.”
Seung-heon held the phone casually and continued the call in his usual laid-back tone.
Min-hyuk strained his ears, but sadly, Gwang-jin’s voice didn’t come through clearly.
After a while—
“Ehhh?”
Click.
Seung-heon snapped the phone shut and said with a blank face,
“He said you didn’t make it.”
“Whaaaat?!”
In an instant, the world seemed to drain from Min-hyuk’s face.
It was just a feeling, but… it was as if his soul was visibly leaking out of his body in real time.
Seung-heon stared at him for a second, then burst out laughing.
“Hey, I’m kidding, you idiot.”
“Huh? Then…”
“You passed. They said you start serialization in two weeks.”
“……”
For a moment, Min-hyuk’s entire body froze solid.
“Hey, you dead? Why aren’t you saying anything? Hellooo?”
As Seung-heon waved his hand back and forth in front of Min-hyuk’s face to check if he was still alive—
“NIIIIICE!! I DID ITTTTT!!”
“Aaah! My ears!”
Kang Min-hyuk’s roar filled Seung-heon’s room to bursting.
***
Vroooom!
A red used Matiz sped along Sadang-ro.
Inside sat Kang Min-hyuk in his school uniform and Hong Mi-seon, dressed neatly and elegantly.
Her makeup was done carefully—anyone could tell at a glance she was heading somewhere important.
A short while later, the Matiz pulled into a parking lot.
The two stepped out and looked up at the building with solemn expressions.
“This is… the Jangsan Publishing you mentioned?”
“Yes.”
A modest seven-story building.
The words “Jangsan Publishing” were clearly displayed at the top.
As the two stared up at it with determined faces—
“Ah, Artist Kang Min-hyuk! You’re here!”
From the entrance on the first floor, a gangster—no, Go Gwang-jin—came jogging over with a bright smile and bowed.
Hong Mi-seon gave a quick sideways glance. Min-hyuk hurriedly waved his hand and whispered,
“It’s okay, Mom. He’s not a gangster—he’s my editor.”
“Ah… really?”
How should she put it.
For someone in comics… his visuals were quite flashy(?).
“Excuse me, are you Artist Kang Min-hyuk’s mother?”
“Yes, Hong Mi-seon.”
“It’s an honor to meet you.”
After a brief handshake, Gwang-jin gestured toward the entrance.
“Then please come up. You’ll meet the department head first, and we’ll proceed straight to the contract.”
“Yes.”
Kang Min-hyuk and Hong Mi-seon.
Mother and son nodded firmly, faces set with determination.