Chapter 27 : “Of course, I’m in.”
“Congrats, Ha-neul!”
“Congratulations, Mr. Author!”
“Wow, you actually won the grand prize!?”
*Clap! Clap! Clap!*
As soon as Ha-neul stepped into Daehan Media, the room erupted with applause, followed by the sound of party poppers going off.
What’s all this about?
Before he could fully grasp the situation, the staff swarmed him, draping a flower garland around his neck and handing him a bouquet.
“Thanks for the congratulations.”
“Please, this way, Mr. Author…”
Feeling a bit awkward in the middle of this unexpected celebration, Ha-neul offered a polite thank you. His editor, Park Dojin, quickly led him to a meeting room.
Behind his glasses, Park Dojin’s eyes seemed indifferent, and his suit was as sharp as ever. Despite his cool exterior, Ha-neul knew him to be a warm and caring person. That’s probably why he’d stuck with Daehan Media all this time.
“What’s going on?”
“You’re the first to win the grand prize for our company. Even though we had a big investor help turn things around, the staff didn’t really feel the change.”
“So you used me to lift their spirits?”
“‘Used’ is such a harsh word. Your work is a milestone for our publishing house, so let’s just say it helped a lot.”
Ha-neul chuckled at Park Dojin’s playful tone. He didn’t show it, but he knew Park had been through his fair share of stress too.
Ha-neul wasn’t really upset; he was just teasing. He understood better than anyone how hard everyone had been working.
“But where’s the CEO?”
“He’s out recruiting more staff and writers. He’s sorry he couldn’t congratulate you in person.”
“No wonder we’ve been seeing more new faces around.”
“Yeah, he’s got a way of winning people over. It’s about time we started seeing the benefits.”
It was true—Daehan Media hadn’t always been struggling. It used to be pretty successful among mid-sized publishers. But CEO Choi Jin-cheol’s unwavering trust in his people had backfired, leading to a major betrayal.
“He won’t make that mistake again.”
Park Dojin spoke with a serious tone, and Ha-neul could sense the weight behind his words. He just nodded in response.
“Anyway, you mentioned something important related to the contest. This isn’t all, is it?”
“Of course not.”
They sat down across from each other at the table. Park Dojin pulled out a tablet with a PowerPoint presentation and started explaining.
“It’s not public yet, but we’ve been informed that *Life Becomes Amazing After Marriage* won the grand prize. Here’s the data we discussed with the platform.”
As Park Dojin flipped through the presentation, a graph showing the age and gender demographics of Ha-neul’s readers appeared.
“Your work has an unusually high percentage of readers in their 20s, especially for something on Mu#npia. Plus, you’ve managed to attract a significant number of female readers, practically across the entire platform.”
“Well, yeah, that’s true.”
“Because of that, many believe your series will do even better on other platforms like Series. But… there’s a catch.”
“M#npia wants to keep me as long as possible, right?”
“Exactly.”
M#npia wasn’t in a great place at the moment. A big mistake had caused a lot of readers in their 20s to leave, and things were only getting worse.
With fewer young readers, the genres they preferred started losing popularity. As new readers dwindled, more writers began leaving too.
In an attempt to survive, writers started catering to M#npia’s main audience—readers in their 40s and 50s—accelerating the departure of younger readers.
“And then I came along.”
Ha-neul’s work attracted a unique demographic, bridging both age and gender gaps. The buzz around his work was still strong on various online communities.
And since his novel was only available on M#npia, curious readers naturally flocked to the platform.
“They weren’t sure about you until your novel went premium…”
“The premium sales sealed the deal.”
“Yeah, no one expected it to be this big of a hit.”
Whew—
Honestly, it still didn’t feel real. The results from going premium were so good that calling them “record-breaking” didn’t even seem enough.
Just before the paywall went up, the number of favorites was at 37,529.
Ha-neul had been worried about the transition, especially since most of his readers were in their 20s. But more than 20,000 of them stuck with him and paid.
What surprised him even more was that new readers kept coming in. The number of readers in their 20s was particularly on the rise.
“The 20-somethings are coming back.”
“That’s the power of having a flagship series.”
Kak@o had *The Legendary Moonlight Sculptor*.
Series had *Return of the Mount Hua Sect*.
Each platform had its own “flagship title” that naturally drew in new readers.
These new readers didn’t just stop at Ha-neul’s work. They’d browse around for other good stories, and that’s how the platform came back to life.
“Is this real or am I dreaming…?”
“Thanks to your work, the influx of 20-something readers has even brought genres like academy and romance, which were barely noticed before, into the spotlight.”
“Honestly, it’s a bit much to take in.”
“It’s only going to get crazier.”
Park Dojin said this with confidence.
Ha-neul gave a small, bitter smile. He understood what Park meant, but it was still hard for his emotions to catch up.
Just a few days ago, he was just another average writer. Who could have guessed he’d become a star overnight?
“…It really is overwhelming.”
On the first day the paywall went up, Ha-neul had released five chapters all at once.
Because of that, the latest chapters alone sold nearly 100,000 copies, and even after management fees, he earned over 5 million won in just one day.
“My old works are selling like crazy too.”
One of the perks of this industry was that when a new work became popular, sales of older works would also get a boost. Ha-neul was feeling the effects of that firsthand.
He didn’t have the exact numbers yet, but it seemed like the digits were changing every time he refreshed the page. It was getting to the point where he almost dreaded the next payout.
“So, what are they asking for? They’re not expecting an exclusive deal with M#npia, are they?”
“They haven’t ruled it out entirely, but there’s no reason for us to agree. They just made a ‘request.’”
“A request?”
“They asked if you could hold off on releasing multiple chapters in quick succession.”
“What?”
Surprised by the unexpected request, Ha-neul tilted his head, puzzled, while Park Dojin scratched his cheek and continued.
“Since the contest was linked to a potential webtoon adaptation, an exclusive deal isn’t possible. It’s already set that after 100 chapters, the series will be available on other platforms. They just want to delay that as much as they can.”
“Sounds like they’ve done their homework on my past works.”
“Yeah, you always drop at least two chapters in quick succession once you go premium.”
For Ha-neul, it had been a way to keep his income steady. He’d release two chapters a day to keep as many loyal readers as possible.
And if he hit a frustrating part of the story, he’d even drop three or four chapters in one go. At that rate, the exclusivity would end in less than a month, so they were asking him to slow down.
“They’re not asking me to do this for nothing, are they?”
“We made sure to clarify that.”
As Park Dojin flipped the slide, a neatly organized list of the platform’s offers appeared on the screen. Ha-neul couldn’t hide his surprise.
“First, these are the basic supports provided for the contest-winning works.”
From exclusive promotions to cookie support and even a front-page banner. They had thrown in just about everything, making failure almost impossible.
It was hard to believe this was the same Daehan Media that was on the brink of shutting down just a short while ago, and that Ha-neul was still a struggling writer back then.
“The next slide shows the conditions you’ll get if you agree not to release multiple chapters at once.”
“…Wow.”
Support for a new cover.
A fixed spot for the favorite banner during the exclusivity period.
These two alone were already huge perks from M#npia’s perspective. But compared to the potential profits from releasing multiple chapters quickly, they still felt a bit lacking…
“They’re offering to adjust the revenue split?”
“Yes. (7.5 : 2.5).”
“Wasn’t this supposed to be an exclusive deal? It’s hard to believe that such a strict platform would be the first to lower its fees. Does that even make sense?”
Munpia’s usual split was 70:30, with the author getting 70%. After that, the earnings would be shared according to the agreement with the management.
Considering how even a small percentage change can mean millions of won, it was surprising that they’d put this on the table.
“This just shows how strong the impact of your work is. Of course, there’s a strict confidentiality clause to keep everything under wraps.”
“Why would they go that far?”
“N@ver recently bought M#npia. Even though N@ver has its own web novel section, it’s a bit different, right? They’re probably trying to grow the market as much as they can with this opportunity.”
“Still, this is pretty extreme.”
“You’re probably the only one getting this offer.”
Park Dojin shrugged, as if to say, “So, what are you going to do?”
“Well, in that case, I’m definitely in.”
“I thought you might say that.”
“But once the exclusivity ends, I might drop around 20 chapters all at once. That’s okay, right?”
“…Please, be gentle.”
He chuckled softly.
They wrapped up their conversation with some lighthearted banter.
* * *
After finishing the meeting with Daehan Media, he headed to a café he had picked out in advance. As soon as he walked in, she immediately noticed someone.
Kang Bada was sitting at a table, her laptop open, chewing on a straw with a focused expression.
‘She looks so cute like that.’
He held back a smile and walked toward her. Kang Bada was so engrossed that she didn’t even notice until he was right next to her.
“Bada-ssi.”
“Oh! When did you get here?!”
“Just now. Have you been waiting long?”
“No, about 30 minutes? I was going through some research, so I didn’t realize the time.”
*Tap, tap!*
Kang Bada tapped on her laptop. She wondered what could be holding her attention so much.
“Can I ask what you’re researching?”
“Sure. I’m currently working on *The Impact on Endangered Species and Future Prospects under the 1.5°C Global Warming Scenario.*”
“That sounds pretty apocalyptic.”
“It’s closely related. Want to hear more about it?”
“Absolutely.”
He ordered a coffee and sat down. Kang Bada excitedly began to explain, showing her the laptop screen.
“For starters, if the Earth’s temperature rises by 1°C…”
There would be extended droughts, around 10% of land species would go extinct, and deaths from climate change would spike to over 300,000.
Recently, bees have been going missing more frequently. They’re getting confused by the warming weather and going out to gather nectar, only to freeze to death when the temperature suddenly drops.
“As a result, many bee species are now being listed as endangered.”
“This is more serious than I thought.”
“Exactly!”
Kang Bada explained the data with a serious face. Despite the heavy topic, she couldn’t help but find her adorable.
“Are you paying attention?”
“Of course. You mentioned that about 60% of the world’s crops depend on bees for pollination, and without them, we’d be facing a massive famine.”
“That’s right. So…”
But he wasn’t just passively listening. He found Kang Bada’s passion captivating, and the subject itself was fascinating.
“I should write about this someday. I’ve always wanted to try writing an apocalyptic or cyberpunk novel, and this would make the perfect setting.”
“I’d love to help with that.”
“It would be an honor.”
Oh—
As Kang Bada kept talking, she suddenly stopped and spoke with a slightly embarrassed look.
“…Sorry, I got carried away again. But that’s not why I asked you to meet today.”
“It’s okay. I enjoyed it too.”
“Glad to hear that. Anyway! The reason I called you today is to use my ‘wish ticket.’”
Ugh—
He groaned internally. He had made a bet with Kang Bada about winning the grand prize, and Kang Bada had won without much effort.
‘What could she possibly want…?’
Kang Bada’s eyes sparkled with something more than just casual curiosity. Considering she already had nearly everything, what could she be asking for?
Of course, it would probably be something within reason, but the problem was that Kang Bada’s idea of “reasonable” was quite different from hers.
Feeling a bit nervous, he looked at Kang Bada, who slowly began to speak.
“Call me ‘noona’.’”
“What?”
“Hurry up.”
“…”
Kang Bada looked at her with a smug grin, leaving him momentarily at a loss for words.
