The Great Storyteller

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

Juho carefully observed Mr. Moon’s expression. He didn’t seem to be suspicious of him being Yun Woo, and Juho slowly opened his mouth.

“I enjoy writing quite a bit.”

“Did you learn to write professionally?”

“No.”

“Do you read a lot?”

“I do read frequently. Though, I don’t read nearly as much as Seo Kwang.”

“He’s excessive even in my eyes. It’s more like a sickness.”

Their footsteps echoed throughout the hallway. By the time they had arrived in front of the science room, Mr. Moon said, “Well, today, try working on your conclusion a little bit more.”

Then, he flung the door open. With the exception of Juho and Mr. Moon, everyone was already sitting down, and they all stared at them. As Juho went to his seat, Seo Kwang said, “I was wondering why you were running late. I see that you came with Mr. Moon?”

“Yep. We ran into each other on the way.”

In front of Juho’s seat was the paper he had written previously. He skimmed through the pages for any written annotation of sorts, but the pages were left untouched.

Mr. Moon said, “I enjoyed reading through your papers. Nobody here seemed to be inept. You all exceeded my expectations.”

“Inept?”

“You can be inept at writing, just like with dancing and singing,” Mr. Moon answered Seo Kwang rhythmically, and he quietly accepted Mr. Moon’s answer. “Seo Kwang, you read more books than anybody in this room.”

“Yes, that’s right,” he answered proudly.

It was a matter of pride for him to read regularly and in large quantities. In midst of Seo Kwang’s proud moment, Mr. Moon shared his thoughts on his paper, “Because you read so much, your writing skill is pretty decent. It’s just that your story tends to be boring at times.”

“Really?”

“Try focusing on the dynamics of your story. Whether the story is moving continuously or the climax persists throughout the entire story, it’s going to be boring either way.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mr. Moon moved on to Sun Hwa, “Sun Hwa, I liked that your story unfolds without holding back, but it was too much. There were too many details left out for the reader to be able to follow with ease. From now on, try to consider the reader’s perspective more when you write.”

“That was too much… Yes, Mr. Moon.”

She seemed confused by Mr. Moon’s comment, but Juho had a slight idea as to what her paper must have been like. Her story probably moved along in large intervals. The gaps were probably too large for the reader to catch up to the story.

Mr. Moon turned his eyes to Bom, who was sitting next to Sun Hwa, “Bom. You’ve hit an average mark overall. Your sentence structures and plot weren’t too bad. The only issue was that you tend to go overboard with your descriptions in places. Try not to get lost in your own emotions.”

“Yes, Mr.Moon,” Bom answered timidly as she nodded.

Sun Hwa cheered for her friend for her generally positive review. Juho clapped along. Bom blushed and waved her hands. She was quite the shy girl.

“Now, Juho.”

“Yes, Mr. Moon.”

“You need to focus till the end.”

The ending must have been quite disappointing. As if it hadn’t been enough for him to comment on it the first time, Mr. Moon emphasized the ending of Juho’s paper again.

‘Yes, yes. I’ll work on it,’ he thought.

“And Baron, nice drawings.”

“Yes, sir.”

After concluding with compliments on Baron’s drawings, Mr. Moon spread out the stack of paper he had had with him since the English class. There were five pages in total, and they were all different. Only, there was one common word between the pages.

“Essay contest?”

They were brochures for an essay contest. They contained information regarding the essay contests that were being held in various places.

“Are we going to be competing in an essay competition?”

“Of course! You’re in the Literature Club for goodness sake.”

Everyone’s faces lit up as they looked at the brochures. A contest was always accompanied by anxiety and excitement.

“There are different types of competition. What it looks like really depends on who’s hosting it, including the topic and the format. Some give out an award just for writing your name, whereas others offer a cash prize.”

“Cash!” Seo Kwang exclaimed with excitement.

In some cases, bigger competitions offered a large amount of cash to the grand prize winner.

“It’s up to you to choose the type of competition you want to participate in. BUT, whatever you sign yourselves up for, there’s a contest we all have to participate collectively.”

“A mandatory contest? Where’s that?” Bom asked, and Mr. Moon spread out his index and pointed to the floor.

“The school competition.”

‘Ah!’ There were sounds of realization.

“When is it?”

“The exact date hasn’t been decided yet,” Mr. Moon answered Juho. “You guys are familiar with the format. Remember the assignment where you had to use three keywords to write something?”

‘Were the topics really injured, discretion, and non-permanent marker?’

“There will be different topics, and you’ll have to choose one that you want to write about. This is actually a lot easier than your previous assignment.”

“It sounds like it.”

It did sound a lot easier than having to utilize three words that had nothing in common. ‘What a surprise! Who would have thought he had even been thinking about competing in an essay contest?’ On the surface, Mr. Moon appeared to be doing just enough to get by, but he had a thorough side to him.

Sun Hwa interjected and asked, “Are there prizes?”

“Of course!” Mr. Moon continued before anybody had the chance to get excited, “But there’s only one winner per class.”

Juho hesitated at Mr. Moon’s words. ‘One winner per class.’ He turned to Seo Kwang automatically, and he, too, was looking at Juho.

“Are we having a showdown?”

The words didn’t sound like they came out from Seo Kwang’s or Juho’s mouth. Sun Hwa, who was sitting right across from them, had said it. Thinking about it, Bom was in the same class as her.

“Showdown, huh?! That sounds dignified.”

“What?! It is a showdown. You two should compete too. It’s fun,” Sun Hwa answered Juho after hearing his murmur.

At that moment, an unexpected competitor quietly joined in, “Sounds good! Should we make a bet?”

It was Baron, who quietly emphasized the idea of betting.

“Come on, Baron. We’re still students,” Juho snuck himself out of the group, but the others joined in on Baron’s suggestion with excitement. They just didn’t know better.

“Yeah, let’s make a bet. Loser buys something for the winner.”

“Oh, come on! I’m not into things that cost me money,” Seo Kwang’s face bittered as he appealed to his financial situation.

“Is it because you’re afraid somebody might ask you to buy them a house?”

“Oh, nooo! You got me.”

“Guys, let’s discuss this in peace,” Bom stopped Seo Kwang and Sun Hwa as the tension rose.

After listening to everyone, Mr. Moon added, “The winner gets a fried chicken from me.”

Juho laughed on the inside. ‘Who would compete for that?’ he thought. Yet, as if mocking his thoughts, the science room exploded in loud, excited voices.

“Yes!”

“Sweet!”

“Wow, fried chicken!”

Even Bom’s face was lighting up. The response was tremendous. With Juho at a loss for words, Baron raised his hand, “Am I getting that prize too?”

“Sure, if you win an award.”

At the bewildering conversation, Juho asked him, “Baron, are you planning on writing?”

“I’ve done it once, and I can do it again. Besides, it’s fried chicken.”

“Oh, yes! That’s what I like to hear!”

Among the members united by fried chicken, Juho found himself feeling left out. ‘Wow, they’re going crazy over fried chicken.’ They were still kids after all.

For a moment, Juho reminisced about his past. He thought about a sports day in elementary school when the entire school competed for a whole pizza.

“OK, that’s enough. If you want fried chicken, you know what to do, right?”

“Are we doing word chain again today?” Sun Hwa asked, and of course, Mr. Moon nodded.

“Until it gets old. Maybe we should play a syllable game next.”

“Why a game?” Seo Kwang asked.

“I wanted to prove that even a word that came out as coincidence can be turned into a writing prompt, even if it came out during a game. I’ll show you that every word in existence can be turned into a composition.”

“I see.”

After accepting his answer, the members thought in unison that Mr. Moon was going to unnecessary lengths to prove his point. At that moment, Mr. Moon shouted the first word, “Pot!”

“Huh? What the… OK, pot. Uh… um… Tree pipit! Think wisely this time!”

*TL’s Note: Again, different words for continuity*

Sun Hwa pointed to Seo Kwang as the next contestant. Although he knew that anything he said could be an ingredient for writing, Seo Kwang prioritized driving other birds out of his mind. The game wasn’t about birds.

“T, T… trumpet!”

He looked at Juho as if everything was in his hands then. Without hesitation, Juho said the first word that came to mind, “Tarzan!”

It had been decided. The three keywords for the members to write about were tree pipit, trumpet, and Tarzan. While Bom laughed awkwardly, Seo Kwang murmured with disappointment, “Tarzan? Why Tarzan of all things? Should I just write about Tarzan playing the trumpet while he hangs out with his buddy tree pipit? What are you, E.R. Burroughs?”

E.R. Burroughs was the author of Tarzan. With a big smile, Juho answered the dejected Seo Kwang, “I’m not quite at the level to be on par with E.R. Burroughs.”

Tarzan playing the trumpet, hanging out with his buddy tree pipit. It wasn’t half bad.

“That story is actually not half bad.”

“Yeah? It’s not?”

At Mr. Moon’s mark, the members picked up their pens. Brainstorming was essential. Everyone pictured the story they were going to portray.

While others were busy mapping out their story, Juho was the only person who had began writing. ‘Tarzan, trumpet and tree pipit.’ Juho started with the word that came out of his mouth.

‘Let’s say there was man who introduced himself as Tarzan. He was so moved by the novel ‘Tarzan,’ written by Edgar Rice Burroughs, that he decided to be Tarzan himself.’

Juho observed the character from a distance. That was so that he could strike a balance between emotional and rational perspectives.

‘The man thought to himself, ‘Tarzan’s friends are animals.”

‘Let’s think of some animals,’ Juho thought.

‘The man went outside. The only animal he saw was a tree pipit. A tree pipit here, a tree pipit there. He wondered about the streets in search of gorillas, snakes, and elephants. There were only people. People after people. The man came to a realization. That was not the jungle. That place was different from a jungle, where all sorts of creatures came together and mingled. Where the man lived, there were only people.

‘The exhausted man found a trumpet in a pile of trash. As soon as he blew on it, it made a sound. He couldn’t communicate with the instrument, but it had been a beautiful sound. He blew the trumpet once again, and the trumpet answered immediately.’

When Juho had written up to that point, he felt a piercing gaze from someone. He peeked around and found out that Mr. Moon was looking in his direction. He remembered what Mr. Moon had emphasized in his comment about his writing, the ending.

Others were still in the beginning stages of their stories. They were much calmer in comparison to the previous time, so Juho put down his pen for a moment. He took some time to think about how he was going to wrap up the story.

‘The ending, the ending, the ending.’

Juho couldn’t think of anything and sighed internally. It was a feeling all too familiar to him.

Juho acknowledged to himself that he was being too conscious of the readers. It felt like when he wrote his second book, and he didn’t have to try to remember the result.

In the end, Juho was the last person to submit his paper.

“Haha!”

He wrapped up the story by a starving Tarzan choking to death while eating boiled carrots.

‘Sorry, Mr. Moon.’

<Focus Till the End> The End