‘He wasn’t an experienced writer? And he’s this young?’
Choi Woong-cheon, CEO of Nice Media, was stunned.
He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
A writing style with real pull, the weight of worldly contemplation seeping out of the prose—those were things you’d expect from someone at least in their late twenties, maybe early thirties.
Above all, the greatest strength of <Cloud Warrior> was how the humor scattered throughout the work wasn’t excessive, but perfectly measured.
It was like cooking.
If something is too sweet, you get sick of it fast.
To keep a long novel going, you needed experience.
<Cloud Warrior> was a jackpot work where sweetness, saltiness, and sourness were balanced just right.
And the author… no matter how he looked, he was nothing more than a high schooler.
But then—
‘What’s this? That atmosphere?’
Choi Woong-cheon sensed discipline in GoldRiver’s speech and mannerisms.
He’s not just some average kid.
Most writers in reality could be easily swayed if you stroked their pride just a bit. But this one felt different.
This brat felt like someone who’d lived some life.
His awareness was sharp.
He’d noticed things from the very beginning and approached on his own.
A good eye meant he had good sense.
Which meant…
“Is there some kind of problem?”
The kid’s voice had strength in it.
If something went wrong, this contract might not go through easily.
Writers his age were normally nervous and excited, which made contracts easy. But this one defied experience.
“Ah, no. It’s just—you look younger than I expected. How old are you, if I may ask…?”
“I’m currently in my second year of high school.”
“…….”
‘He’s not someone you can push around.’
Choi Woong-cheon was a generous man who would sometimes send writers abroad on vacation.
But he was also a businessman who knew how to exploit naïve writers.
He was cold enough to give royalties and then claw them back in other ways.
And even he was tense.
This boy he’d met today—
Not someone he could easily strong-arm.
‘The CEO’s getting wrecked today.’
Editor-in-chief Hwang Seong-woo could see right through his friend, the CEO.
His friend was always confident. He spoke decisively. His evaluations of writers were blunt and harsh.
He specialized in sweet-talking writers and paying them cheap royalties.
He’d even prepared six thousand copies at a 10% rate today, fully intending to push things further if he could.
But today, he had met his match.
Sweat trickled down Choi Woong-cheon's forehead.
‘Woong-cheon-ah. You met your superior today.’
Hwang Seong-woo couldn’t help but feel amused inside.
One look was enough—GoldRiver might be young, but he was a fox.
He was clearly the real-life version of Red, the protagonist of the novel.
‘He can’t control his expression. Tsk.’
The two of them stared at me as if they’d lost their words.
From a social perspective, they must have figured out I wouldn’t be easy to toy with.
Time to press harder.
“Is a high school student not allowed to sign a contract?”
Quiet, but straight to the core.
The work was good, so I’d be either the subordinate or the superior—simple as that.
The logic of the world was simple.
If what I was selling was good, I had every right to square my shoulders.
“Allow me to properly introduce myself. I’m Choi Woong-cheon, CEO of Nice Media. It’s a pleasure to meet you, writer.”
“I’m Editor-in-Chief Hwang Seong-woo.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Jang Tae-san.”
I bowed politely.
I didn’t want to make any careless mistakes that could give them leverage.
“Mom. Please greet them. This is the CEO and the editor-in-chief of the publishing house.”
Behind me, my startled mom widened her eyes.
She asked with her gaze what on earth was going on.
If she did understand the situation right now, that would’ve been even stranger.
“P-publishing house?”
“Yeah. Your son’s signing a publication contract today.”
“……!”
Mom’s shock was just as intense.
Seeing me holed up inside all day, she must have assumed I’d developed a gaming addiction or something.
“Are you writer Jang’s mother? Nice to meet you. I’m Choi Woong-cheon, CEO of Nice Media.”
Trying to win my favor, the CEO handed her his business card.
His social intuition was razor-sharp.
He called me “Writer Jang” without hesitation—even though I was just a high school kid.
Heh. Cute.
“N-no, what is happening? My son, suddenly a writer…?”
“Why? Can’t your son be a writer?”
“That’s not it, I just… I know your skills, so suddenly hearing you’re a writer is strange.”
Mom looked at the CEO and editor-in-chief like they were scammers.
From her perspective, that was normal.
“During break, I wrote a serial novel online. They liked it and came to sign a contract.”
“Really? You?”
“I’m telling you. You said you’d trust me until death.”
“I suppose my death has come.”
Uh, Mom… that’s a bit much.
I reflected on my past life.
Just how unreliable had I been for my mother to not believe me even when presented with evidence?
“GoldRiver—no, Writer Jang Tae-san’s writing is exceptional. The serial started not long ago, but it has already received a lot of love from readers. You can trust him.”
The sensible CEO stepped in to help.
“As the editor-in-chief, I can say it’s the best work in recent years. You can trust him.”
“<Cloud Warrior>? Hmm. The title is nice.”
“Well, I do like watching clouds every morning.”
At last, Mom looked half-convinced.
Though not 100%.
“May I have a cup of coffee?”
“Of course. What would you and Writer Jang like to drink?”
“I…”
Mom hesitated.
“Iced coffee and patbingsu, please.”
“I’ll have them ordered right away.”
The editor-in-chief moved on his own.
I might have been young, but I was a writer.
A writer who would make them loads of money, so I enjoyed this moment.
Just like Red, the protagonist of the novel, if it was free, I could drink lye water with sugar mixed in.
“Did you bring the contract?”
“Haha. Writer Jang, you’re very bold.”
“I’m not bold, I’m thorough.”
The CEO didn’t know me, but I was once a bar-exam exam drifter.
If they handed me a sloppy contract, I’d reject it on the spot.
Mom quietly observed from the side.
A good approach for understanding how things were unfolding.
I took the contract.
The guaranteed print run section was still left blank.
‘Assigning secondary rights to the publisher for five years? And automatic renewal? Pfft! Are they insane?’
Starting around 2010, even major companies would jump into the paid e-book market and it would explode.
I’d wasted quite a bit of money on paid chapters myself.
Sure, I could have gotten them free on P2P sites, but since I was preparing for the civil service exam, I couldn’t risk a copyright violation on my record.
“Please revise it so the secondary rights remain with the author.”
“Writer, I think you might not understand—secondary rights aren’t that important. It’s a formality. All the writers sign this way.”
“I don’t like this clause. It’s enough for the publisher to hold only the publication rights. And in the foreign rights clause, insert a line requiring author consultation.”
“That’s… well…”
As soon as I pushed, the CEO’s expression wavered.
The editor-in-chief, returning after placing the order, frowned too.
They didn’t yet know how the e-book market would change, but they must have felt offended.
If they were happy seeing a high school brat push back like this, they’d be psychopaths.
“For the advance payment, please set the contract fee at 20 million won.”
“Wh—!”
“T-twenty million won?”
Their shock was explosive.
“T-Tae-san.”
Mom was just as startled.
For a household that trembled over 10,000 won, twenty million was an enormous amount.
Hearing her son demand such a sum left her speechless.
“For the guaranteed print run, I’d like six thousand copies at 10%. If a reprint occurs, notify me immediately and deposit the royalties into my account at the end of the month without fail.”
My confidence was so overwhelming that all three of them fell silent.
“H-heh heh. Writer Jang really is bold.”
CEO Choi forced a laugh as he spoke.
But his eyes were cold with displeasure.
For a small publishing house, twenty million won was probably one month of operating costs.
But what could I do?
Right now, I desperately needed seed money.
“Writer Jang… forgive me, but no publisher pays such an advance to a debut author. Yes, your views are exploding right now, but there’s no guarantee the quality will stay consistent. If the series fails…”
Editor-in-chief Hwang stepped in.
I fully understood his point.
“You brought your laptop, right?”
“…What?”
My eyes moved toward the editor-in-chief’s laptop.
“I’ll give you a chance. If you don’t like what you see, you can reject me.”
“A chance… meaning…?”
My gaze turned not to the displeased CEO, but to the editor-in-chief.
And then…
From my pocket, I took out that.
“W-what is this?”
Editor-in-chief Hwang frowned, confused.
Come on, can’t you tell, mister?
All eyes focused on the USB drive in my hand.
“A manuscript. Inside here is the manuscript up to volume 5 of <Cloud Warrior>.”
“M-manuscript!!!”