How a legendary returner lives

“Good. Come here.”

Ma Jin-no approached. Jin Si-hoo reached out towards him. Ma Jin-no tried to avoid it, but it was pointless. Jin Si-hoo placed his arm over Ma Jin-no’s shoulder as if greeting an old friend.

Ma Jin-no swallowed nervously.

The difference in their levels was overwhelming.

It was like the difference between a child and an adult.

“Did you just try to avoid me? Am I mistaken?”

“……Yes.”

“My mistake, then. You have such a rough look, you must get misunderstood a lot, huh? That’s why I almost misunderstood you just now, right?”

“…….”

“What are you doing? Not connecting?”

There was no choice for Ma Jin-no. He wanted to live.

Ma Jin-no took out a very small orb from his pocket.

“Is that it?”

“……Yes. A communication crystal. Only special apostles possess it. This communication crystal is an artifact that can only communicate with that person….”

“Cut it short, let’s get started.”

Ma Jin-no furrowed his brow and flicked the crystal. It floated up into the air.

The gray-colored crystal slowly started to glow.

Ma Jin-no spoke.

“We’re connected to that person. You can speak now.”

He opened his mouth but hesitated for a moment.

Suddenly, a movie line came to mind.

Smiling, he lowered his voice as much as he could and spoke.

“i don’t know who you are. I don’t know what you wan…….”

Enough with the jokes.

An iconic line from a famous movie was interrupted, but Ma Jin-no didn’t show it. His voice, however, sounded deeper than he expected.

It sounded like Korean—was that a mistake?

Jin Si-hoo genuinely thought the “Korean” he was hearing from the other side was remarkably fluent. So, he asked.

“Are you Korean?”

There’s no way.

“But you speak Korean well.”

Did you cause all this just to ask such a pointless question?

For the first time in a while, Jin Si-hoo was speechless.

Let’s get to the point.

This person wasn’t as fun as he thought.

Tsk.

After clicking his tongue, Ma Jin-no asked.

“Just to clarify, are you the person they call ‘that person’?”

-……

“How long will you stay mute? Why aren’t you answering?”

Are you Jin Si-hoo, by the way?

“I’m not asking because I don’t know.”

I’m just echoing your own words. Aren’t you asking because you don’t know?

He laughed.

He had thought this person was boring, but maybe not. Perhaps he had a sense of humor after all.

Spinning things around was enough by now.

“I won’t speak for long. Come here, not those idiots who can’t even use their powers properly. Just come.”

-……

“Let’s make it quick. Are you coming, or should I go? If you come, I’ll hit you once. If I go, I’ll hit you ten times. Think carefully. Don’t regret it after being beaten to death.”

The 148th apostle, Ma Jin-no, urgently shouted for him to stop, but it was meaningless. Jin Si-hoo reached out and grabbed Ma Jin-no’s face.

He applied force.

Crack-!

Ma Jin-no’s face exploded.

The communication crystal, left in the air, shattered. The answer that flowed from it resonated in Jin Si-hoo’s ear.

Good luck.

***

Genre Fiction’s History

The history of genre fiction is long.

In South Korea, it’s often generalized as web novels, including historical novels, modern fantasy, traditional fantasy, and sci-fi fantasy, among others.

All of these are considered genre fiction.

So, how should a writer go about writing a novel in South Korea?

In the past, writers had to submit their work to publishing houses. However, with the rise of the internet, online serialization became an option, and the printed book market has almost reached its end.

Currently, the common method is to submit work to a management agency focused on internet publishing, or to start serialization on platforms like Kakao Stage and Munpia, which are the two major players in South Korea.

Munpia allows for conversion to paid content during serialization, and Kakao Stage moves the work to Kakao Page to continue as a paid serial once a certain volume is reached.

“Hyung, why didn’t you contact me yesterday?”

“I was busy.”

It had been a full day since Jin Si-hoo had returned.

Jeong Bin recounted everything that had happened during that day. He had filled up an entire notebook, and he’d posted five chapters.

“Could you take a look at the comments?”

There was no real reason to refuse.

“Hyung, I only posted five chapters, but the response was unusual.”

“Let me see.”

Jeong Bin showed Jin Si-hoo the comment section.

[ShibaShibaDog: Author, your new work is up. Looking forward to it.]
[JeongBalSanGiSookGomBal: This one will probably be trash too. What’s with the title Titan?]
[PeterParker123: A third-rate author trying to make a quick buck, quit while you can. Tired of paying for trash like this.]
This was the comment for Chapter 1.

They probably hadn’t read it, just left comments. The comments early on were too different from those later.

[PeterParker123: What is this? It’s crazy.]
[TheSun’sSlave: Author, this is a typical isekai, but the immersion is insane. The length is just right.]
[NillyLillyMambo18: What is this, Jin Si-hoo? Something is really different from before.]
[TheKingofBasement: Author, great job. Can’t wait for the future.]

The views had already exceeded 100,000, and there were a whopping 50,000 recommendations.

Typically, the recommended ratio to views is about 1 in 10, but this was way beyond that.

When it comes to serializing web novels, the most important factor is the retention rate, and Chapter 1 had 180,000 views, while Chapter 5 had 176,000. There was almost no drop-off, and the recommendation count actually increased.

Chapter 5 had a recommendation count of 70,000.

It was beyond insane.

“Is it alright?”

“Hyung, this isn’t just alright. The comments on the first five chapters total 4,000. It’s not even because of an event or because it made it to the main page. I’m telling you, this is going to rewrite the history of genre fiction.”

Jin Si-hoo didn’t seem particularly concerned. A subtle sense that something big was beginning to unfold was spreading among the readers, and Jeong Bin was telling him how word of mouth about the novel Titan had started to spread across several community sites. Meanwhile, Jin Si-hoo was looking at the last comment of Chapter 5.

It was very impressive.

[JeongBalSanGiSookGomBal: Jin Si-hoo must be using a ghostwriter.]

***

He saw it clearly.

“Not bad. Readers really are amazing.”

Jeong Bin blinked in surprise, perhaps noticing Jin Si-hoo’s odd reaction.

“Hyung, are you alright with hearing that? Doesn’t it bother you?”

“Well, it’s not entirely wrong, is it?”

“That’s true, but doesn’t it upset you?”

“Why would I be upset? To be honest, I am a ghostwriter. If I get mad about something like this, I should quit writing. I’m not a kid.”

He smiled gently.

“Just think about this. No matter what anyone says, Titan is the story of forgotten people in the world. The goal is to bring their story to light. Whether I get called a ghostwriter or whether some hammer comes flying at me, to be frank, who cares?”

Because, after all, I’m not trying to be a writer.

“So, don’t get upset about it. Get your head back in the game.”

Jeong Bin, who was staring at Jin Si-hoo with a strange expression, suddenly smiled.

“Hyung, I’ve felt for a while that you’re quite an interesting person.”

“Me?”

“Yes. It’s like I’m curious about what you’ll do in the future.”

“Stop with the nonsense.”

Jeong Bin awkwardly laughed before asking.

“Hyung, by the way, did the situation you were handling get resolved?”

“More or less.”

***

“What? In Busan, you supposedly called the head of the city council, the police chief, and the guild master of the crazy people in Gwangalli to enter an S-level gate? Is that true?”

Jin Si-hoo silently smiled.

***

At the same time, Yoon Yeong-su was on a call with someone, speaking quietly.

“Is that so?”

Yes. So, I think I’ll have to stay here in Switzerland for a while.

“Then, we’ll join you as soon as our business here is settled.”

I’m sorry. I should be the one going.

“It’s fine. For someone like Master, we don’t need to worry about having to deal with figures like Lee Seong-jae or even the President.”

Through the watch, Jin Song-i chuckled softly.

Are you sure it’s okay? Our secretary general, I wonder if he’s going to act recklessly like in the past.

“Don’t worry. We’re handling everything within the manageable limits.”

Yoon Yeong-su spoke seriously.

Up until now, how much has the Salvation Guild done for South Korea?

Honestly, it’s countless.

Whenever gates appear that South Korea can’t handle, Jin Song-i is the first one to request help from the association. And when gates arise beyond what other countries can handle, the first person they call is Jin Song-i.

Jin Song-i is one of the pillars that keep South Korea strong as a nation. And they’ve been using that pillar all along. Yoon Yeong-su knew this, but he’d stayed quiet about it.

Master Jin Song-i didn’t want to escalate things.

Jin Song-i was too kind.

Yoon Yeong-su thought it might have been better if he had been a bit more ambitious, but now it seems that with Jin Si-hoo’s arrival, Jin Song-i is starting to get more ambitious.

It’s a good sign.

Yoon Yeong-su is now ready to handle the tasks that he had been putting off.

Thank you. If I didn’t have you, Secretary General, who else could I trust?

After a brief conversation, Yoon Yeong-su turned off the watch.

He then looked across the table at the dignified-looking man.

“What did you say earlier?”

“Um… I mean, considering that Jin Song-i is coming to Seoul, I think it’s a bit difficult… How about we proceed like this: Yoon Yeong-su, you can establish a second team in the Salvation Guild, and when you clear the gates, you can ask for assistance from Jin Song-i? We could help facilitate things like that…”

“Prime Minister.”

The current Prime Minister of South Korea, Seong Gil-su, momentarily furrowed his brow.

He hadn’t expected his words to be interrupted like that.

No, how dare anyone interrupt the Prime Minister’s words?

He wanted to argue.

But he couldn’t. He was too stunned.

Yoon Yeong-su pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and calmly exhaled.

“…What are you doing?”

With a poker face, Yoon Yeong-su silently stared at Seong Gil-su.

Seong Gil-su swallowed nervously.

The man in front of him, Yoon Yeong-su, was an A+ ranked awakener and the secretary general of the Salvation Guild, the most powerful guild in South Korea.

He was not someone to be treated lightly, but still, this was a bit much.

“…Could you please put out your cigarette? This is a non-smoking area.”

Yoon Yeong-su smiled lightly.

“A non-smoking area… I see. I didn’t know you were such a stickler for the rules.”

Still smiling, Yoon Yeong-su picked up the cigarette and dropped it into the glass in front of him.

Sizzle.

The sound felt like thunder to Seong Gil-su.

He hadn’t said anything, but that was his drink that had just been poured.

“What is this? We’ve been making concessions because of our positions, and now you’re doing this?”

“…Excuse me?”

“You’re offering to help? Are you messing with me?”

Seong Gil-su swallowed nervously.