Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

“All done?”

“Yes,” Juho replied, putting his phone back in his pocket. With his eyes fixed on the phone, Nam Kyung asked light-heartedly, “A friend?”

“Yep,” Juho said, nodding.

“Is this the same person who wants to be a translator?”

“That’s the one.”

“Is he going to compete in the contest?”

“It appears so.”

Although they were the only people in the apartment, the editor looked around the living room and asked, “Did you make that suggestion with this friend in mind?”

Chuckling quietly, Juho replied, “If I had, then I would’ve brought up his name. I would’ve volunteered to be one of the judges too.”

“And the contest definitely would’ve looked a lot different,” Nam Kyung said, waving the project’s data in his hand.

The contest was open to anyone who made a submission through email, which would be a translation of a short English sample written by Juho. There were going to be ten contestants for the judging panel, and the judges would choose the winners based on the translations submitted to the publisher.

“I hope we get a lot of participants.”

“I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that, Mr. Woo,” Nam Kyung said, chuckling and lifting the data in his hand.

“This is your translation of the online sample, right?”

“That’s right.”

Juho had made the sample and translated it.

“If we get a submission that comes even remotely close to this, I wouldn’t think twice about choosing that person,” Nam Kyung said, groaning.

“We might get something even better. You never know.”

“No, this is THE most ideal translation. I’m certain of it,” the editor said, darting back and forth between the original and the translated copy. He seemed genuinely impressed. “I don’t know how you do it, but you keep impressing me over and over again! What do you think about giving translating one more shot?”

“No, thanks.”

“Or, maybe you could make a submission yourself?”

“That does sound like a fun idea, but if I win, I’m gonna have to do the translation myself.”

“So, you ARE confident that you’d win, huh?”

Juho didn’t deny it. Meanwhile, Nam Kyung was still staring at the two samples.

“Are you looking for somebody who could do an even better job than this?” the editor asked.

“Of course.”

“Maybe you should just do it yourself. It’s still not too late, you know.”

“I respectfully decline.”

Then, as Nam Kyung placed the two samples on the table, Juho followed them with his eyes.

“I suppose it would be best if we looked for something that stayed true to the original, huh?”

After some thought, Juho replied, “I don’t know. I find myself impressed whenever I come across a good liberal translation.”

Nam Kyung seemed to understand the young author. As long as languages and cultures were different, liberal translations were a necessity.

“I think I still prefer translations that stay true to the original. Especially with your books. As a reader myself, I’d want what I’m reading to be as close to the original as possible,” the editor said emphatically, as if he disagreed with the young author. Juho remembered Seo Kwang’s translation. When the author had seen it for the first time, it had felt like his translation had stayed true to the original on one hand, while reading like it had been translated liberally on the other. Seo Kwang had been nurturing his translation skill at a truly frightening rate, and when Juho remembered that, he stopped thinking about it, as it felt no longer necessary. If Seo Kwang had been developing when Juho had first seen his translation, then he had to be even better now.

“This is exciting,” Juho said genuinely.

—

“Yun Woo’s sample,” Juho murmured the title of the article and clicked on it. There were already a myriad of poorly-translated samples floating around the internet. Given that people had grown curious about the short sample written by Yun Woo, it wasn’t surprising. Every blog that had anything to do with the author contained a slew of its members’ attempts at translating the sample.

“What would Hong Sam have to say?”

Juho logged into Hong Sam’s blog. Although a university student, Seo Kwang was still pretending to be an office worker in his blog. The most recent post was a month old, and the blogger had written about a certain Nebula-winning author, along with the recent scandal surrounding the Hugo award.

“He really is a good writer.”

What Seo Kwang lacked were creativity and the stamina that would sustain him when writing for an extended period of time. His personal preference of reading-over-writing also seemed to play a role in his struggle as a writer. Nevertheless, Seo Kwang was an outstanding writer. On top of that, his vocabulary and comprehension were also quite impressive. Given that he tended to invest most of his time on reading, it made sense. While the blog introduced a slew of different books, it also came with the blogger’s own opinions and interpretations. Starting from the most recent one, Juho read through them one by one. Every single one of them was meticulous and sincere, making it clear that the blogger had read the books prior to reviewing them. It was very Seo Kwang-like. Then, shortly after, Juho came across his name on the blog.

“‘Language of God: The Glory of Traitor.'”

Aside from the title, the first thing that stood out was the five-star rating next to it. Clicking into it, Juho scrolled down to the bottom, where Seo Kwang’s thoughts on the book tended to be. It wasn’t too different from what he had told Juho in person. However, there was a name there that Juho hadn’t expected to came across.

“Jenkins’ role.”

Seo Kwang’s opinion was as follow: “If Jenkins hadn’t been there…? I couldn’t help but ask myself that question. There is no arguing that Jenkins’ recent movie was a massive success and that it lived well up to its reputation. Not only is Jenkins a skilled director, but he’s also a genius. On top of that, I am confident that he’s a reader who understands books through a clear set of standards. I have actually come across a number of people (who refused to read ‘Language of God’ because it was a book) who told me that watching Jenkins’ film adaptation actually made them fall in love with the original novel series. What if Jenkins hadn’t been there? Would ‘The Glory of Traitor’ have been as popular as it is now? Would ‘Language of God’ look any different? Would the series be on a completely different path?”

“If Jenkins hadn’t addressed Yun Woo as the Great Storyteller, would that have meant that the author wouldn’t have been great?”

“Personally, I have trouble keeping myself from associating his name with a snapping turtle. Have you ever asked yourself why those animals exist?'”

(TL’s Note: When pronounced in Korean, Jenkins’ first name, Zara, has the same sound as the Korean word for snapping turtle/Chinese softshell turtle: Jara.)

“… What the heck are you saying, man?”

Then, while Juho was preoccupied with interpreting a seemingly out of place exposition, a text message notification sounded from his phone. It was Nam Kyung saying that there were over eight hundred submissions thus far. ‘I wonder if Seo Kwang’s is one of them,’ Juho wondered, hoping that it would be. At that moment, his phone started ringing.

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

It was Baron, whose voice made it sound like he was in good spirits.

“Did you hear about Seo Kwang?”

“Nope.”

Juho hadn’t heard from Seo Kwang, and since Juho didn’t want to disrupt his aspiring translator friend, he didn’t go out of his way to reach out to him either.

“He’s bouncing off the walls right now.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s making it seem like he’s about to dedicate his life to translating your book.”

Juho still couldn’t make sense of what Baron was saying.

“Did he make a submission to the publisher?” Juho asked.

“He’s actually not even close to having anything to submit,” Baron replied, sounding like he was holding back laughter. “He’s been working on the opening statement for a month straight.”

“… You mean he’s in the middle of revision?”

“No. As in, he hasn’t even finished his first draft.”

“Well, that was unexpected,” Juho said, leaning back on his chair and murmuring, “Maybe he won’t finish in time.”

—

“This isn’t it!” Seo Kwang exclaimed, covering his face with his hands, sobbing. “This isn’t me!”

“I thought I told you to stop being a nuisance and go upstairs!” his mother said, looking at her son. As his shoulders moved up and down, his untidy desk also moved up and down with him.

“Mom! Your son is in anguish right now!”

“You took the words right out of my mouth. My son is scaring the customers away.”

“My whole life depends on this!”

At that, his mother burst into laughter, and Seo Kwang wiped the tears off his face.

“Maybe I was adopted,” Seo Kwang said. He was in crisis. Leading up to that point, he had been translating countless types of compositions, from business data to movies. Needless to say, he had also translated his fair share of literature. He had been excelling in translating, and the fact that he would even translate books written by some of the most notorious authors in the literary world with relative ease had given him confidence. Never had he struggled with the first sentence.

“What’s wrong with me? This is the opportunity of a lifetime! Was my skill expendable? Did I use it all up!?”

“Quit yapping and go read some books! You would always go out with a book in your hand whenever you were feeling down.”

“Go away, mom. You don’t understand.”

“What did you say!?”

While Seo Kwang was taking a beating on his back from his mother, the bell on the door rang, indicating a customer walking into the store. As Seo Kwang proceeded to bury his face in his arms, she made her way to the counter.

“Long time, no see!”

“How’ve you been, Mrs. Kim?”

At that moment, Seo Kwang looked up all of a sudden, saying, “What the… You’re not Juho.”

To his disappointment, the customer was just one of the neighborhood regulars. Realizing that he was desperate for Juho’s presence, Seo Kwang buried his head on the table yet again.

“Make sure to clean up after yourself,” his mother said, and Seo Kwang nodded. It was dark out. Since the cafe was closing earlier than usual that day, Seo Kwang decided to try translating in the store, where he could concentrate. Soon, Seo Kwang was left alone in the store filled with the scent of coffee and books.

“A fish without gills.”

It was a part of the English sample written by Yun Woo for the translation contest. A fish without gills. Since it didn’t breathe with its lungs or skin, the creature was bound to meet its demise within thirty seconds. A fish without gills would come to its end in the only environment that it could survive in: water.

“If this is what the sample looks like…”

Yun Woo’s new English novel was going to be about a person. The young author had created and translated the sample for the sole purpose of testing and seeking out a skilled translator to work with. However, it was nowhere near enough to satiate Seo Kwang’s desire to read Yun Woo’s new story.

“I believe it’s getting released in the States with ‘River.'”

Seo Kwang scanned the sentences. Not only were they well-written, but they were sophisticated. It was almost impossible to think that Yun Woo was an author from a non-English-speaking country. Yun Woo’s writing in English was just as tasteful as his Korean counterpart.

The young author’s dazzling sentences gave their readers the sense that he had been trained for years on end. Although the author kept things ambiguous for mischievous reasons at times, his depictions were as clear as day.

“I’m sure Yun Woo won’t have trouble describing what melancholy is like.”

Reading Yun Woo’s writing only made Seo Kwang more certain that the author would be able to do that with ease. Hindered by a certain desire in his heart, Seo Kwang clasped his head.

“Fantasy!”

He recalled having asked Juho about how he went about writing. At which point, Juho had replied that…

“… I see fantasies where my characters have personalities and free will.”

Even the author didn’t know how the characters would lead their lives. Although Juho had explained that to his friend using various examples, Seo Kwang simply hadn’t been able to relate to or understand the young author.

“He had to have seen something while he was writing this. What could that be?”

Since Seo Kwang had never fantasized to that day, he still didn’t have a clear way to define it. The extent of his understanding was that it was something dream-like. For the first time in his life, Seo Kwang found himself wanting to see it for himself. Something kept telling him that he would find something that would help him make a breakthrough. Licking his parched lips, Seo Kwang murmured to himself, “First, close your eyes.”

Juho had told him that the first step to seeing fantasies was to close your eyes. Upon closing his eyes, Seo Kwang heard a car zooming past the store and the whir of the motor within the refrigerator in the kitchen. At that moment, his stomach growled, and he opened his eyes.

“Gettin’ hungry.”

Clicking his tongue, Seo Kwang took a piece of candy from the counter and put it in his mouth. The sweetness helped appease his hunger. There was no time to look for food. Rolling the candy around in his mouth, Seo Kwang looked into the air. A fish without gills. That time, he tried holding his breath. However, it wasn’t long before he exhaled sharply, spitting all over the place.

“Maybe I need to take this more seriously.”

From what he had heard, there had been more than eight hundred submissions by that point, and there had to be translators who were seasoned and trained.

“C’mon… I don’t care what I see. Even if it’s just one second.”

At that moment, Seo Kwang looked toward the whirring refrigerator in the kitchen, which was filled with food and drinks.

“Alcohol,” Seo Kwang said as he rose from his seat.