Chapter 2: The Monster Youngest (1)

I began to wake up slowly at the feeling of someone shaking me.

“…I told you to get up. I’m telling you, you might get in trouble with Kyung-chul Hyung.”

“…Who?”

My mind was still hazy, so I couldn’t exactly understand what was being said. Kyung-chul Hyung? No, more importantly, who is this kid waking me up? The voice sounded young, too. That voice shook me again.

“Hurry, quickly. Seriously, what are you going to do if you get busted again?”

“…….”

Ah, sht, now that I think about it, today is my day off. And who’s getting busted by whom? Well, if it’s the comments section, I’m always getting busted pretty hard. Anyway, who the hll is this? I rubbed my eyes and forced them open with difficulty. Then I saw a young guy with spiky hair and a grimy appearance looking down at me.

“Ugh!”

Startled, I snapped my eyes wide open and recoiled. Watching this, the spiky-haired guy let out a deep sigh, furrowed his brows, and spoke.

“Hey, even so, is my face really something to be that shocked by?”

“You, what are you?”

“What?”

He blinked with a look of complete bewilderment.

“I asked who you are?!”

“What kind of nonsense is he talking as soon as he wakes up?! Stop talking bullsh*t and get up quickly. We have to finish up the work the Hyungs did late last night. There’s no time!”

Saying that, he abruptly yanked away the blanket I had been covered with.

“Ah, cold!”

Why is the house like an icebox? The stuff coming out of my mouth right now surely isn’t cigarette smoke. But wait… This blanket—isn’t this that military-green wool blanket I saw back during my army days a long time ago? Was there something like this in my room? As I thought that, I was startled once again. I thought it was my room, but it was an unfamiliar place. It was a cramped, dark, narrow room filled with a musty smell. Where on earth is this? Thinking I might have wandered into someone else’s house while drunk, I looked around, and that spiky-haired guy shook me again. Then he whispered in my ear.

“What are you doing? I said let’s go out, quickly! Do you want to get hit by Kyung-chul Hyung again?”

“…?”

Getting hit? What kind of nonsense is that again?

“Hurry!”

He barked and forced me to stand up. My mind was still disoriented, but I could clearly tell that something was very wrong right now. What was this about getting hit by someone named Kyung-chul, and why did I have to be woken up by a guy like this? I couldn’t understand it at all. Truly, this was the first time I’d been forcibly woken up like this since my military service a long time ago.

“Here, put this on.”

When the guy handed me some thick clothes, I put them on reflexively. Why are these clothes so tacky? They really remind me of the green field jacket I wore in the army. Of course, it was too cold to be picky about the situation. As soon as I finished dressing, the guy grabbed me again, opened the door, and led me out. As I was dragged along, I looked around with a dazed mind. I wondered if this was a dream or reality. A completely unfamiliar space. A house that felt like a worn-out, freezing warehouse. Why am I in a place like this… Maybe I haven’t woken up from the dream yet. What do you call it… is it a lucid dream? But then, a voice that snapped me wide awake rang out.

“Look at these bastards. Is this your living room?!”

A guy with shaggy hair wearing glasses appeared in front of us and spoke with a scowl. Then he jabbed the chest of the spiky-haired guy who had woken me up with his finger.

“Hey, Go Ju-bong.”

“Yes, Hyung.”

“F*ck, if that bastard keeps losing his mind like that, you’re getting kicked out with him. Got it?!”

Spiky-hair bowed his head with his hands behind his back and spoke.

“I’ll make sure to wake him up properly from now on.”

“F*ck, did you eat a boiled parrot?”

“Pardon?”

“I asked if you’re just going to say the same thing every time.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry, my *ss.”

Saying that, he slapped the cheek of the spiky-haired guy—no, the guy called Go Ju-bong.

“Do better. Yeah. Do better.”

“Yes.”

Is this guy the one called Kyung-chul or Hinges or whatever? His personality is absolute trash. But then this guy whipped around to look at me.

“And you, Park Yi-chang.”

Park Yi-chang? What are you talking about? Why am I Park Yi-chang? Wait, I don’t even know who these guys are… Huh?

“Look at that crooked posture. Stand up straight, you sh*t.”

Go Ju-bong? Park Yi-chang? Wait a minute. Those names are definitely the names that appeared in that diary. Go Ju-bong is the peer, and Park Yi-chang is definitely the name of the person who wrote the diary. Then… is this… A dream? I thought I might be having a vivid dream because I fell asleep while reading the diary, but then a heavy sensation hit my chest. The shaggy-haired guy with glasses was thumping my chest with his fist. Kyung-chul—this guy is that vicious one from the diary. Shim Kyung-chul. His face looks innocent enough, but his personality is garbage.

“Hey, you bastard. Do I look funny to you?”

But is this really a dream? Why is it so realistic? Now that the dazed feeling was fading, it felt like reality. Considering my chest was even throbbing.

“What’s wrong with this guy? Has he not woken up yet?”

It was then.

“Hey, Kyung-chul, stop it now.”

Someone spoke while approaching from behind the shaggy-haired guy. He was a man with a short stature and a round overall impression that gave off a good vibe.

“It seems like the kid just hasn’t adjusted yet.”

“He’s been working here for well over half a year already. And yet…”

“I said stop.”

The shaggy-haired guy flinched for a moment. Then he nodded with a stiff face.

“…Yes.”

Only then did the round man seem satisfied; he smiled slightly and passed by us.

“I’m going to go in and sleep now.”

“Yes. Please get some rest.”

“Yeah.”

The shaggy-haired guy bowed to the back of the receding round man. Then he shot me a glare and whispered softly.

“F*ck, I’ll deal with you separately later.”

Having said that, he hurried into another room. Though it was a worn-out house, there were several more rooms to the left and right. The atmosphere was like an old dormitory. Anyway, is this really a dream?

“Hey, why are you standing there in a daze? We have to start working quickly.”

“Work?”

“This guy seriously. Is he really not awake yet?”

“…….”

“Forget it. Come on, hurry.”

Saying that, he grabbed me and pulled me again. After passing through a short hallway with wooden floors, several dim lights soon came into view. There were several desks that looked like something out of an old period drama, and three people were sitting in their seats. This… really is a manga studio. And an old-fashioned one at that. On the walls were several drawings that looked like old comic book covers. At this point, it feels like reality, not a dream.

Okay, let’s organize things for now. I’ve become a person named Park Yi-chang, not myself. Park Yi-chang is the owner of the diary. The content of the diary was 1975. If so, does that mean it’s 1975 right now? Since I was born in 1971, when I was five years old? Ah, this is really confusing. I don’t know what’s going on all of a sudden. Of course, it’s not like I’m dying to go back to the time I lived in. Even if I went back to those times, all that would be waiting for me is a fifty-year-old life with no motivation. I’m still not sure if this is a dream or reality, but what’s certain is that my five senses are accepting this as reality.

Just then, a short-haired young man who looked chubby and kind-faced looked back at me while drawing something on paper. Then he gave a slight smile.

“Yi-chang, you must be tired. Should I help you out a bit?”

Then, the spiky-haired guy who had dragged me here laughed awkwardly and waved his hands.

“It’s okay, Hyung. I’ll finish up with this guy, so you can just finish your part and go to sleep.”

“Shall I? Ki-chul Hyung, shall we head in too?”

At those words, a man with a long face glanced at us and nodded.

“Sure.”

Saying that, he stood up from his seat. The chubby, short-haired man spoke again.

“Jung-ho. You finish up too.”

Then, a man with a slight build wearing glasses raised his head and grinned.

“You go in first. I’ll help these kids with their work for a bit and then go in.”

“Will you?”

“Yes.”

“Then keep up the good work.”

“Yes, sleep well.”

“Yeah.”

The round-faced man who replied that way went into the inner room along with the long-faced man. I was watching them leave when the man with the slight build, who was still sitting, muttered.

“Sit down and get to work. Don’t just stand there in a daze.”

At those words, the boy called Go Ju-bong was startled.

“Yes.”

He replied and forcibly sat me down in a chair. On my desk, several pages of manga manuscripts that were already in progress were laid out. Manga manuscripts… Wow, it’s been a really long time. Recently, I’ve worked almost exclusively on tablets dedicated to comics… No, more than that, it seems this really isn’t a dream. Everything is just so vivid as if it were real. I fell asleep while looking at the diary, and its contents have become reality. Since the reality I wanted to deny keeps progressing, I have to accept this unless I’m a fool. Whether this is a dream that feels like reality, or actual reality. But what’s really amazing is… it’s so interesting. I was always someone without motivation and always tired. But now, my mind is clearer than ever, and above all, I feel like my body is overflowing with vitality. And at the same time, I felt like the names of the people I just met were instantly engraved in my head. In other words, a few memories I didn’t originally have surfaced. Not many, of course, just about the situation of this studio. It was then. I heard the sound of someone tapping on the desk. I turned my head and saw the man with the long face—no, it was Lee Jung-ho, the senior right above me.

“Hey, why are you in a daze?”

He is 23 years old, from Ulsan, and he’s someone who lived as the youngest for quite a while before we—meaning my peer of the same age, Go Ju-bong, and I, Park Yi-chang—came in. For the record, Go Ju-bong and I are 19. 19 years old? Am I really 19? Wow, this is crazy. Ah, then don’t I have to go back to the army? If it’s the 70s, how many months is it? 36 months? Ah, it’s despair, pure despair. I’m already someone who finished 30 months of military service, and the thought of having to do 36 more months makes everything suddenly look bleak. But I flinched and was surprised by another memory that surfaced. Huh? Did I drop out of middle school? On top of that, since I’m an only son and my father passed away, I’m exempt. A smile unknowingly formed on my lips at the fact that I didn’t have to go to the army again. Honestly, going to the army twice makes no sense.

“You’re smiling?”

The guy named Kyung-chul spoke with a sharp scowl. Go Ju-bong, who was beside me, nudged my side.

“Hey. Yi-chang.”

“…Uh? Why?”

At my reaction, the guy called Jung-ho glared at me.

“Hey, Park Yi-chang.”

“Yes?”

“Wow, you really haven’t snapped out of it even after getting scolded like that by Kyung-chul Hyung?”

Come to think of it, did they say this friend Lee Jung-ho is also the type to subtly bully his juniors? The type who acts like he’s taking great care of the youngest ones in front of the seniors, but subtly torments them. I know these kinds of guys well because I experienced them quite a bit in the army. Well, there’s no need to cause trouble for no reason. The current situation is fun, anyway.

“I’m sorry.”

When I said that, Lee Jung-ho blinked quite a bit. My peer Go Ju-bong’s expression also changed from worried to surprised. Leaving those gazes behind, I immediately examined the manuscripts placed in front of me. So these are manga manuscripts from the 70s. I started drawing comics in earnest from the early 90s, and began my professional activities after serving in the military in the mid-to-late 90s. Even compared to that, the 70s art style certainly looks simple. It seems to be a “cheerful manga” that was popular at the time. The number of square panels per page is small, and the backgrounds feel empty. So there were times like this. Alright, alright, let’s look at the manuscripts slowly and get to work first.

As the youngest, the work I have to do is none other than the “finishing touches.” By finishing touches, I mean the completion of the manuscript, mainly referring to inking or white-out work. Of course, I occasionally put patterns on clothes or create the square panels when the manuscript starts. I quickly looked around the desk. I could see ink and white poster color. First, I picked up an eraser and began to erase the pencil marks from the manuscript. Wow, this manual work is so nostalgic.

After carefully erasing the pencil marks, I began inking. The places marked with an X on the manuscript are signs to apply ink. I checked all of them and immediately began inking with a brush. Even if I didn’t succeed as a manga artist, I was quite good at this kind of simple work. I began inking quickly with ink mixed with soot. But…

“…?”

I knew the drawings were large and easy to work with, but isn’t this too easy? Even the old me couldn’t have worked this fast and easily. It felt as if a motor had been attached to my arm. And at some point, the inking for the several pages of manuscript in front of me was finished. Just then, someone approached behind my back and snatched up a page of the manuscript. When I turned my head, it was Lee Jung-ho. He was examining the manuscript with his brow heavily furrowed. He checked the other pages one by one, then looked at me.

“You… how did you finish all this already?”