Chapter 130: Chapter 130

With these two characters, Kim Byul could recall a lot of information.

A genius writer who appeared like a comet one day, the author of numerous masterpieces, Seop-seop who hates his real name, the boy who walks around with a blanket draped over him, Booker International nominee, a maverick in the entertainment industry, a cocky kid, a pretty decent friend, and so on…

The list is endless. It was natural since he was a boy with a distinctive presence even in the entertainment industry, which is full of eccentricities.

But it was precisely because of this that Kim Byul couldn’t easily associate the word “orphan” with Moon In.

Of course, she knew, but watching the boy who roamed the entertainment world with a fearless attitude, she would quickly forget that this boy was an orphan.

The stereotype of an orphan as depicted by the media is as follows: timid, pitiful, prickly, despised, poor, craving affection… such weaklings.

It’s an extremely narrow-minded view, but humans are inherently narrow-minded. We’re too busy surviving to meticulously consider others’ circumstances.

Fortunately, my fingertips did not touch the bluebird.

Because I heard a voice behind me.

“Hey, are you the one who’s been taking care of the animals all this time?”

A girl was looking at me.

Classic! Lim Yang-wook smiled with satisfaction. The ‘boy meets girl’ plot is unbeatable.

The boy must meet the girl. That’s how romance begins, and that’s how books sell well.

The story that followed didn’t stray much from Lim Yang-wook’s expectations.

A boy who, after losing his parents and becoming disillusioned with humans, relies on animals, and a girl who simply likes animals.

Their story continued.

Both liked animals, but their motivations were slightly different.

The girl’s affection was pure, while the boy’s affection was darker and more obsessive.

This was because, while the girl simply liked animals, the boy liked animals because he hated humans.

As the two grew closer, this difference became more pronounced. It became the seed of conflict and eventually the nutrient for mutual understanding.

Moon In-seop expressed this seamlessly.

A contented smile never left Lim Yang-wook’s lips.

Salvation in the darkness, sweet friendship…

The appeal of this work lies in its artistic quality as well as its extrinsic elements.

“It has a youth literature feel. The setting is simple and modern…”

This comment came not from “Reader Lim Yang-wook,” but from “Editor Lim Yang-wook.”

In Korea, young adult literature sells much better than pure literature. Parents buy it for their children, and schools purchase it for libraries with taxpayer money.

Moreover, a simple and modern setting makes it easier to adapt into a drama. With no need for extravagant CGI, the budget can be kept low, relying instead on the actors’ performances.

It’s akin to how a modern romance script suddenly needing a gumiho (nine-tailed fox) or goblin would require the involvement of a CGI team.

In summary, it’s a profitable novel.

Lim Yang-wook cleared his throat awkwardly and looked around. Even he thought his inner thoughts were a bit too mercenary.

Originally, Lim Yang-wook did not read novels purely for commercial reasons. Especially not the works of Moon In-seop, which perfectly aligned with his tastes.

It was roughly a fifty-fifty split.

It’s similar to a Cherokee Indian fable:

Inside every human heart, two wolves reside.

A wolf of ‘goodness’ and a wolf of ‘evil’.

The two wolves engage in an eternal struggle.

The one that the owner feeds.

Similarly, two wolves lived within Lim Yang-wook’s heart.

One was the wolf of ‘commercialism’, and the other was the wolf of ‘literary value’,

The two wolves continuously fought an eternal battle, neither yielding an inch.

But Lim Yang-wook had tasted the allure of money.

Since experiencing the taste of money in Japan, the wolf of commercialism has been winning victory after victory over the wolf of literary value. Even if the wolf of literary value protested that it was a rigged fight, Lim Yang-wook remained silent. He was a referee thoroughly bribed by money.

Thus, when deputy manager Kim Ga-ryung asked:

“Department head, what do you think of Moon In-seop’s new work?”

“Oh, it feels good. Really good. I can see potential for media mix…”

However, what Lim Yang-wook overlooked was the fact that Moon In-seop was a walking embodiment of the ‘wolf of literary value’.

A fearsome beast baring its fangs and drooling.

Lim Yang-wook realized this as soon as he turned a few pages of the manuscript.

The wolf had bitten the bluebird to death.

As a child, I saw the white bones of a fish floating in the aquarium. Bones hidden within the flesh gnawed by its kind.

I saw white, more brutal than red.

I saw white in the remnants of a bluebird crushed under sneakers. Delicate bones, broken bones, murdered bones.

The terror of white, more brutal than red, returned to me.

The child, whose parents had a profession that saved lives, spoke to me.

“How is it? Are you still not angry?”

It was then I realized. He had crushed the bluebird to see the child, who usually smiled foolishly, get angry.

Just to torment another, he had killed a living being.

At that moment, something dark, a mix of pain, despair, and hatred, filled my heart.

I grabbed a brick from the corner of the flower bed and charged at the murderer who had trampled the bluebird’s bones into the dirt.

Then, a girl shouted.

You shouldn’t hit someone with a brick. That’s not what a pure animal would do but what a wicked human would do.

I lowered the brick, which I had raised high into the air, with a weak motion. Though I still held it in my hand, the girl’s desperate plea had drained all the strength from my arm.

Then the frightened boy, wanting to erase his earlier display of cowardice, spoke to me. It seemed he wanted to make his pathetic, cowering figure disappear.

As if urged by the gaze of numerous spectators, he roughly pushed my shoulder and shouted in anger.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you going to hit me?”

“Hit me! Come on, hit me!”

The criminal who killed the bluebird stuck his head out toward me as if offering his neck.

I was holding the brick, and had become the executioner qualified to pass judgment.

But the girl’s eyes were telling me one thing until the end.

It meant that the moment I struck this criminal with the brick, I would no longer be human.

Suddenly, a phrase came to mind: To be or not to be, that is the question.

Two choices approached me: to kill or to spare, to remain human or not, to suppress my impulse and anger or not, to avenge the bluebird or not.

With clear-minded determination, I answered resolutely.

I would not remain a vile human being.

One swing, one impact, one fall,