Prologue

 

-Tikka! Tap! Click! Click!

The sound of a keyboard filled the narrow room . The clock on the wall showed midnight, while the sky outside was painted black . Ha Jaegun took away his hands for a moment and pressed them onto his temples . He had been constantly typing since dawn . Not just one, but for two days straight he had been working hard .

His neck, body, arms, and wrists were all strained to death . Jaegun already had gone ten times to the bathroom to cool himself with cold water, but his face was still flushed a bright red .

‘It’s so close… Just a bit a more . ’

Coming back to his computer, he pulled up his story’s information tab: total of 124,331 pages . He only needed about 15,000 more pages to make up the last part of his two book series . The books with a contract .

At the latest, he had to turn it in by tomorrow morning . About 6 more hours to write . .

‘In the past, I could type about three thousand words per hour’

‘My stamina isn’t the issue . ’ he thought .

He was only 27, not yet old enough to call stamina the issue . The real problem lay elsewhere: his mind . I want to write what I want to write . That was the main issue .

He couldn’t write about his own stories . Writing for money was the top priority . What else can you write when you have no food and no rent? Nothing . And how could one write bestsellers?

Jaegun had no idea . He tried to fit the new trends and follow his editor’s orders, but it was hard . Even with all of his effort, it was still very difficult .

He looked around his pitiful one-room “house,” while drinking coffee . With barely any furniture, it looked like a recently moved in house . He had bought all of his necessities at the minimum price . He had to boil water for it to be drinkable and his refrigerator was letting out annoying clicks again .

‘Don’t give up . It’ll be fine . I worked really hard on this . ’ He slapped himself to try to get a hold of himself . Thinking of his mother and sister, he had no time to waste .

Tap! Tap! Click…!

He poured his coffee into his mouth and started to bash away at his keyboard again .

The white monitor reflected a gaunt face, tired of life .