Chapter 69

Chapter 69

TL: KSD

Spring passes, and summer comes.

The season is approaching when the blue of the sky, far above the cozy white clouds, seems deeper.

From the bus window, the sky feels especially blue today.

Maybe its because Im seeing this after the gloomy skies of London, or maybe Im just in a good mood; Im not sure.

Gu Yu-na, sitting next to me on the bus, peeks over and asks me.

What are you looking at?

The sky.

Gu Yu-nas gaze, which had been fixed on me, slowly shifts to the sky.

After staring out the bus window at the sky for a while, Gu Yu-na suddenly shares her thoughts.

Its clear.

Soon, with the heavy sound of the engine, the bus speeds along the highway. The lush mountains under the blue sky swiftly pass by like the wind.

Summer was approaching.

Side EPAutomaton Murder Case

It would have been nice if everyone could enjoy art as art, but people needed to attach numbers to art to feel satisfied.

This terrible habit is the same for the public and artists alike. The public has a Nolbu-like mentality, wanting to sift through and only glance at the best art, while artists have a bad temperament that isnt satisfied until they suppress another artists work. (TL: Nolbu is a character from a Korean Story Heungbu and Nolbu in which Heungbu and Nolbu were brothers who were the son of a very rich man. Nolbu, the older brother, was very greedy and coldhearted, but his younger brother, Heungbu, was kind and empathetic. )

Thus, the art world always has a kind of PvP mode wherever you go.

And if musicians have concours, writers have essay contests.

Despite the era where terms like literary awards, competitions, and essay contests are mixed up so much that the meaning of essay contests becomes blurred,

An essay contest is an event where people write essays on a prompt received on the spot, competing to see whose essay is the best.

Originally, this was a custom among scholars during the Joseon Dynasty, kind of an impromptu freestyle writing battle.

Just as in Joseon, where officials were appointed through writing competitions, in Korea, winning writing competitions can lead to admission to good schools.

So, parents wealthy enough to fund competitions for their child often did, but eventually, schools collaborated to create a peculiar list of <Recognized Essay Contest Awards>, sponsored by famous literary magazines or those with deep history and credibility.

After all, the issue, then and now, is always the entrance exam.

Thus, aspiring novelist students who want to get into good art schools become wandering fighters, traveling the country to match the schedule of <Recognized Essay Contest Awards>.

And that was exactly me.

And, I think, I did quite well.

After all, being a regular high school student who consistently beat arts middle and high school students in competitions was something.

Looking back, that was the source of my self-esteem.

Kind of a gloomy and modest happiness, like being a mysterious master who instills fear in arts middle and high school students at essay contests, even though I was an outsider and a sandbag in school?!

Its a bit funny, but humans are creatures that slowly die without experiencing such happiness.

Even wandering through essay contests, I met my (short-lived) best friend, so the role essay contests played in my life was undeniably significant.

You look happy.

Gu Yu-na, sitting next to me on the bus, noticed my mood. Seeing her face makes me smile. Its the first time Im going to an essay contest with Gu Yu-na, who Ive always met at essay contests.

However, thats the sorrow of this second life; I cant openly share such feelings.

So, I dodged the question like this.

Im happy because its been a while since Ive been to an essay contest.

Gu Yu-na tilts her head in curiosity.

Did you go to essay contests often?

Yeah.

How often?

A lot. Ive written many pieces with the hope that Please, choose my writing as the best. Please, look kindly upon my writing

You did?

I wasnt always good at writing from the start. Writing improves the more you write, so I wrote a lot. And I think youre the same case.

Hmm. Thanks.

The fact that she didnt respond with something like Who are you to judge me? but with a Thanks shows that Gu Yu-na was indeed very gentle when she was younger.

Feeling proud of Gu Yu-na, I unwrap a snack and give it to her, when the teacher sitting in the front seat of the bus (a minion of Park Chang-woon) noticed us and announced,

Kids! Well be arriving soon! Get your things ready!

Only the kids from Baekhak Arts Middle Schools Literature and Writing department who were kind enough to respond to the teachers words replied.

Yes-

Since I wasnt noble and pure-hearted enough to respond to everything said to the general public by a teacher, I silently observed the faces of the students from Baekhak Arts Middle Schools Literature and Writing department.

I was really surprised.

At Baekhak Arts Middle, the teacher checks the <Recognized Essay Contest Awards> schedule one by one, gathering the kids on weekends and driving them to the essay contest venues by bus.

Feeling somewhat wronged, as I had to check dozens of essay contest committee websites one by one, jot down schedules in my calendar, and beg Teacher Bang Jeong-ah for transportation money to get to the contest venues, it seemed unfair.

Back in my day, getting to an essay contest this easily was unthinkable

Especially if there was an essay contest in Chungcheong Province like today, it was hellish. The journey involved taking an intercity bus from the terminal to the province, switching to a local bus, and then walking a long distance to the event venue.

Grumbling to myself, the kids began to disembark from the bus one by one. Gu Yu-na grabbed my hand and pulled me.

Lets go.

Just a bit

Ta-da. But the clock is broken.

Oh.

Lets twist the story here. Since the clock is broken, now they dont know when their memory will reset. To even roughly know, they have to start counting the time, waiting by counting seconds for an hour, trembling in fear of when their memory will reset. How many seconds have passed now? Am I counting the numbers correctly? They suffer like this, waiting for their memory to reset.

Then, the protagonist realizes something. If being is defined by memory, and I only have an hour of life left, whats the point of suffering and counting numbers like this?

Realizing this, the protagonist stops the agonizing wait, kicks off their seat, and heads out with the broken clock to explore the beautiful landscapes of the world. And the novel ends with them writing in the notebook, Enjoy life before fixing the clock!'

Gu Yu-na looked at me with admiration and started writing something hastily on her manuscript paper.

Pleased, I watched over Gu Yu-nas head, then looked around the park, where a fierce battle was continuing.

I can see our classmates from the Literature and Writing department, who have been walking around with their shoulders puffed up since this morning, saying Who are we? The school with writers.

Parents pointing smartphones at me to take pictures from afar, and children sneaking glances at me while writing, were not few.

The unknown child who greeted me earlier waves at me from a distance. I wave back, and excitedly, he jumps around, making a fuss to his friends. I feel like a celebrity.

But, somehow, I often feel like Im still deceiving others. I know better than anyone that Im not that great of a person.

Whenever I have such thoughts, I suddenly feel cold. Even wrapping myself in a blanket doesnt ward off the chill. Its the cold seeping in from my youth rental apartment thats gone cold due to the lack of heating. Somewhere in my soul is always in the past.

What snaps me out of these unpleasant memories is Gu Yu-na, who has tossed aside her manuscript paper.

I cant write anything good.

.Whats wrong?

Its because of you. Youve contaminated my brain. Because of that Memento plagiarism you mentioned earlier, I cant think of anything.

Gu Yu-na turned her head away with a sullen face, meaning that the story I made up on the spot must have been pretty good.

I tidy up the manuscript paper and help Gu Yu-na to her feet, coaxing her gently.

Do you want to have banana milk at the convenience store?

Yeah. Buy me one.

Professor Gu isnt giving you much allowance these days?

Recently, dad has indeed cut back on his spending.

Gu Yu-na, whose comments would make Professor G weep, nonchalantly led me to the convenience store.

Watching Gu Yu-na sip her banana milk, the examiner announced to the participants that half of the exam time had passed.

Gu Yu-na, having finished half her banana milk, asks me.

Arent you going to write?

You, Yu-na?

I told you. My brains contaminated. After seeing such a story, how can I write my novel? Itll all just be plagiarizing bits of your story.

Gu Yu-na pointed to my empty manuscript paper.

But why arent you writing?

Well

Thinking about it, I stopped participating in essay contests after I was admitted to college with Professor Gu Hak-juns help.

Even if I considered essay contests a source of my pride, or a literary festival, deep down, I regarded them as a means to accumulate specs and get into a good university for a better life.

After realizing this, it became impossible to attend essay contests with the same pure and joyful heart I had in my childhood.

But now, after a long time and with a weakened body, coming to the essay contest with Gu Yu-na, I felt nothing but joy, as if the purity of those days was returning.

Even if I were to write now, impress the judges, and take away someone elses award,

it wouldnt bring me more happiness than this moment, sitting on a convenience store bench with Gu Yu-na, eating banana milk and looking up at the clear sky.

So, I chose not to submit any writing for this essay contest.

However, not being able to honestly express such feelings is the sorrow of this second life.

So, I quietly smiled and said to Gu Yu-na.

Just the weather is too nice.

Gu Yu-na stared at me and then sighed deeply.

I really cant figure out what youre thinking

Its ridiculous to be told by Gu Yu-na that she cant figure me out.

I must have been looking at her with a perplexed expression.

Gu Yu-na then asked me.

How do you write so well?

Ah, come to think of it, coming to todays essay contest was also because Gu Yu-na asked me to teach her how to write.

In our previous life, we were each others mentors, but this time, I thought it wouldnt be bad to be Gu Yu-nas mentor.

What Im curious about, though, is why Gu Yu-na, who I thought would decide to pursue a novelists path in high school, is already so passionate about writing.

Do you want to write well? Cant you just write your own stories?

Yeah. I want many people to read my writing. I want to become a popular novelist.

Uh-huh. I see. How did you come to think like that?

My sister said shes going to cease writing.

Wait, why didnt you tell me earlier-

*****

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