Genius Blacksmith's Game

[Kang Younghoon: You said there would be nothing I could write, but it turns out there was a great deal to write.]

“...?”

Hyein frowned at the message Reporter Kang Younghoon had sent her.

The First King was bound to draw the attention of the entire world.

She had known from the start that all kinds of trash reporters would swarm him.

But...

There’s absolutely nothing to worry about.

Even trash reporters could not invent facts that did not exist, and they could not claim he had said things he had never said.

If they did, and it came out, they’d be finished.

Still, what Younghoon had said made Hyein tense.

Is there some other side of Hyunsoo that even I don’t know?

And Kang Younghoon was a problem because he was a capable trash reporter.

He knew exactly how to pull a headline and an article together so the public would love it—sensational, provocative, irresistible.

Whatever else might be true, among Korean reporters he was someone whose ability had to be acknowledged, and there were many people who waited specifically for his articles.

Just then—

[Kang Younghoon: (photo) (photo) (photo)]

She checked the many photos he had sent, along with the article he had written this time and the other supporting material behind it.

[Kang Younghoon: May I post it?]

How were most scandal articles born?

A reporter tailed someone, ignored the very concept of “private life,” then sold it off to some death-dispatch type outlet for an enormous profit.

But Younghoon was not doing that.

After reviewing the photos and the article, Hyein replied.

[Hyein: I never expected you to write an article like this... Are you only posting one photo? I’ll get permission from the people involved and confirm Hyunsoo’s view as well.]

She contacted Hyunsoo first, then the people in the photos.

[Hyein: ...The two elders say that if it is something good for Hyunsoo, they would even welcome posting it without mosaic blurring. They say they’re willing to give an interview as well. But Hyunsoo is worried people might criticize it as a staged story built around his good deed.]

[Kang Younghoon: ...People might suspect that, yes. But not if it’s me.]

“...?”

At that, Hyein realized something.

Depending on which reporter wrote an article, the result changed—and in her judgment, if it was him, that kind of thing truly would not happen.

[Hyein: Remarkable. I never imagined you would write an article like this.]

[Kang Younghoon: That’s because, until now, I’d never met people who would let me write one like it.]

Hyein understood. And she found herself looking forward to it.

She read articles often herself, and she knew many reporters.

At this rate, you might be the one who wins Reporter of the Year.

[Kang Younghoon: I’ve uploaded it.]

Younghoon’s article was released to the world.

*****

The article should be out around now.

Jaemin was an ordinary college student.

Like everyone else, he enjoyed social media, video platforms, and online communities.

And there was one reporter whose articles he always made sure to read.

Kang Younghoon.

His writing was so provocative it squeezed out dopamine endlessly.

[A new article has been posted.]

It’s up!

Sitting in a university lecture hall, Jaemin was sure Kang Younghoon had written an article about the First King, and he was excited.

Hyunsoo’s scandal!!!

But the title was nothing like that.

[Perhaps the king we longed for.]

“...?”

It was not a sensational title?

-The day of Hyunsoo, the user who became king, began with a jog.

Jaemin kept reading.

At first, it was an ordinary day. A jog, a meal at a gukbap place, sitting on a bench to rest.

But what followed was not ordinary at all.

...The very first thing he did after becoming king was go see the people he was grateful to?

Because he knew Hyunsoo’s story, he could feel it.

He was nineteen, wasn’t he?

After the forge fire, he had lost everything. His father had fallen into a vegetative state, and with no money for hospital bills, Hyunsoo had drifted from one construction site to another.

And they said his whole body was covered in burns.

A path begun from a body full of oozing wounds, while people looked at him and recoiled with, Ugh...

And somewhere along that road...

There had been a friend who reached out to him, cheered for him, and pressed crumpled bills into his pocket telling him to eat.

He must have decided that someday he would repay it.

Staring down at those wrinkled ten-thousand-won bills, sad and grateful all at once. Getting through his meals with side dishes someone else had made for him.

He...

had become a king.

And then he went back.

To the friend who had pressed that crumpled bill into his hand, to the old couple who had eased the hunger and loneliness of his days—

and to the one great man who had been the only one to protect him in a world that turned its face away.

Of course, Jaemin did not know every detail. Some of it was only his own imagination filling in the blanks. But the first thing Hyunsoo had done was so full of support, gratitude, and thanks toward a friend his own age that it invited that kind of imagining.

He read Reporter Younghoon’s lines.

-I saw a new side of Hyunsoo.

-The traces of a young man who carried only a single bouquet and never forgot a kindness drew me in as if under a spell.

-I, too, had been deeply worried about his nation and the road he would walk, but while writing this article I came to understand something. He is a king who will be loved by many, and cheered on by many.

-Our first king may still be lacking, and he may still be young. But youth means he can still grow further, and so I find myself looking forward to the road ahead of him.

Reading that last passage, something in Jaemin tightened.

-And in the end, I too will continue to support this new king, even if only from afar.

At the end of the scroll was a single attached photo.

Hyunsoo, standing in a suit, his skin clean now, no trace of raw wounds left, holding out a bouquet.

Beside him, a woman with tightly permed hair and comfortable floral clothes.

Next to her, a man in a wrinkled cap, several shirt buttons undone.

Seriously...

His life itself was art.

And what Jaemin could do was—

-UPVOTE!!!!!!!

He clicked recommend.

[Would you like to join God Hyun’s Forge?]

He joined Hyunsoo’s fan cafe.

And—

-Damn... that’s insane~~~

Like Reporter Younghoon, all he could do was cheer for him from afar.

*****

The journalism world exploded.

Because Younghoon, who had always been the one chasing sensational stories and scandals, had written something utterly unlike his usual work—and it had become a massive hit.

Reporters came pouring in. Leaning against the rooftop railing, exhaling cigarette smoke, Younghoon said:

“I just wrote a real article.”

“...!”

“...!”

Those words became an example to his juniors, and other reporters quickly pushed out follow-up pieces that supported it.

And that was not all.

From creators with a few thousand followers to others with millions, many had originally been waiting for some provocative “Hyunsoo scandal” story—but when a very different kind of story appeared, they welcomed it.

-Damn, now this is the stuff!

-This is the # Nоvеlight # kind of story we wanted!!!

Interest in the First King had never been limited to Korea in the first place—it had been global from the start. And once reporters and content creators joined in, it spread outward across the world and became an international story.

Membership in Hyun’s fan cafe doubled.

And there was also the single photo Reporter Younghoon had posted.

People were often more accustomed to “just seeing” than to reading text, and there was already talk that it might win Photo of the Year.

The path of someone influential only became more influential.

-God Hyunsoo in heart and in deed too....

-But isn’t this fake?

There were voices claiming it was image marketing, the same sort of thing politicians or celebrities did.

But just as Younghoon had said, that kind of controversy never truly took hold.

-Kang Younghoon may be the king of trash reporters, but at least he’s honest.

-???

-He doesn’t put out fake info. Back when he broke all those scandals, a famous actor offered him 500 million won to bury one, and some company offered him 4 billion, and he told them to go screw themselves, then released the recordings.

-...500 million? 4 billion?

-And you think someone like that can be bought to print a fake article? Impossible. The man’s convictions are rock-solid. That’s why he’s the king of trash reporters.

-Feels like maybe he’s a good guy, but also maybe a bastard?

Because Younghoon was that kind of reporter, the controversy was buried almost at once—and instead produced enormous synergy.

The companies already sending love calls to Hyun were now fully aware of his good character, of how he repaid kindness, of the title First King, and of the current issue spreading across the world.

And from the viral articles, they came to realize something.

-He was never the kind of man you could move with money alone.

The advertising world grew anxious, and amid all that swelling chatter, someone said:

-If he still isn’t interested, then consider whether maybe the money just wasn’t enough.

The corporations began holding meetings. Aiple sent an additional message raising its offer by another 10 billion won, and one company after another threw itself into the competition to recruit Hyun.

Just two days.

In only those two days, they raised their contract fees by more than thirty percent.

And then there was Aiple’s division head.

John Wook was a global figure, an innovative leader who ran Aiple, and he had politely contacted Hyunsoo personally.

“Hello? Hyunsoo?”

Hyunsoo, who completely froze up whenever he had to speak English—

“My name is Hyunsoo.”

“Oh, Hyunsoo!”

“M-my name is Hy, Hyunsoo...!”

“Mm...?”

“I am, uh, Hyunsoo!!!”

“What?”

After getting no farther than repeatedly introducing himself, Hyunsoo finally panicked and hung up.

Of course, Hyunsoo had already decided in his heart where he wanted to go.

“...I’ll shoot my first advertisement with Hansung Group.”

That was what he had said while going into headquarters with Taesung.

At once, by Taesung’s order, one of Hansung Group’s top figures began moving to negotiate.

*****

Director Lee Seokjin.

He had graduated top of his class from a famous American university and was an elite executive who had closed countless deals between major corporations.

The completed contract in hand, he rode in his Maybach on the way to Gyeongju.

The First King. I’m looking forward to this.

Since this came by direct order from the chairman himself, the contract had to be concluded flawlessly.

Twenty-one...

And there was something admirable about the fact that, at that young age, he had gone to find the chairman in order to repay kindness.

Director Lee Seokjin had served the chairman for twenty years.

And when he had gone out to the front of headquarters to greet him, it had been the first time he had ever seen the chairman smile that happily.

He looked out the car window.

PATTER—

Rain had begun to fall.

He arrived at a cafe in Gyeongju.

He sat down first and waited.

This should be over quickly, and I can head back.

Sipping a warm cup of tea, he thought back to the Hyunsoo who had met the chairman.

He had only looked like a somewhat awkward, somewhat bashful young man of twenty-one, scratching the back of his head and standing in front of the chairman.

What made him king was that impulse to repay kindness—and the people gathered around it.

That was what brought people together, and what had made it possible for them to stand with him in the possibility of handcraft blacksmithing.

Seokjin expected the same Hyunsoo from that day to walk in.

That slightly awkward, slightly bashful, perfectly ordinary twenty-one-year-old Hyunsoo.

Then—

“...?”

Hyunsoo appeared beyond the rain-streaked window, dressed the same as he had been when he met the chairman.

One bodyguard beside him held a large umbrella over him, and Hyunsoo walked forward without expression.

JINGLE—

He opened the door and stepped inside, brushing the raindrops from his shoulders with two light taps, then told the bodyguard with a glance to wait in the car before giving only the briefest nod of greeting.

His presence changed...?

The Hyunsoo walking toward him step by step was not the young man with the boyish expression he had seen before.

There was none of that slight bend at the waist young men naturally took on when respectfully addressing an elder.

To begin with—

he stood at 184 centimeters, with broad shoulders and a naturally powerful frame. The kind of man ordinary people would instinctively flinch at if they met him on the street.

When he noticed Seokjin, he offered only a light greeting with his eyes and walked over at an even pace. The faint remnants of scars on the backs of his hands made it clear that the road he had walked had been anything but light.

And the aura and eyes he carried before Seokjin were different from what they had been in front of the chairman.

His once gentle eyes had settled into something deep enough to seem as though they could quietly take in everything.

And that easy, open smile he had worn before now made it obvious that he only showed it to people who had shown him kindness.

Without even realizing it, Director Lee Seokjin rose and gestured to the chair.

“Please, have a seat.”

Sitting down, Hyunsoo spoke in that faintly familiar smile of his.

“I’d like to review the contract.”

There was weight in his voice.

Aura in it.

No tremor in it.

With a careful expression, he turned the pages of the contract. He looked over the examples of the advertisements he would appear in that had been provided alongside it, seated with one leg crossed over the other.

FLIP—

FLIP—

FLIP—

A suffocating silence.

A careful gaze.

Then, slowly—but heavily—he set the contract down and said:

“...These are not the terms I want. The contract fee—10 billion won.”

“......”

At the force in that resonant voice, Seokjin loosened his tie slightly and met his eyes.

The slight curve of Hyunsoo’s mouth.

The way his lips moistened as he spoke.

The hand that laid the contract back down.

Then Hyunsoo placed it on the table with quiet weight and slowly pushed it across.

“Is my value only 10 billion won?”

At that moment, Seokjin understood.

Gulp—

The man sitting before him

was the king of a nation, and the one standing at the peak of 1.3 billion users.