Chapter : 06
Kindle Kindness My Foot
9:00 AM. Chowon woke to the low murmur of Hyerim’s voice.
— Writer Eun. Any chance… we could meet today?
Normally, Chowon would have snapped about getting a call at this hour, but today she couldn’t. Hyerim’s heavy tone was a signal that something serious had happened. Besides, Chowon was the one who had bailed on their last meeting after collapsing. Ultimately, she submissively agreed to drop by the publishing house in the afternoon.
When she arrived, the office was eerily quiet; the staff were nowhere to be found. Only Hyerim was there to greet her. Chowon studied Hyerim’s haggard face and asked:
“Are you coming from a funeral?” “How did you know?” Hyerim asked, looking genuinely startled.
Chowon gave a silent nod toward her outfit. Only then did Hyerim look down at herself. Black jacket, black shirt, black pants, black shoes.
Ah, right. Hyerim gave an awkward smile.
“Sit down. I’ll get you some coffee.” Changing the subject, she gestured toward the table. “Do you still work at that tea house every day?” “During the day.” “You always complain that the coffee there tastes like trash.” “It’s quiet, at least.”
Chowon started to give a short reply, but Yohan suddenly flashed through her mind.
“…And since the staff changed, the coffee’s actually drinkable.”
Hyerim tilted her head at the uncharacteristic addition but didn’t press further.
Hyerim runs a small publishing house called ‘Seoyul.’ This was where Chowon had submitted her novel six years ago. Out of the many publishers she’d contacted back then, Hyerim was the only one who replied.
‘I enjoyed your manuscript. Shall we meet and talk?’
Back then, Chowon struggled with social life due to the aftereffects of ‘the incident.’ Writing was her only way to function as a member of society. In that sense, Hyerim was more than just a publisher; she was a savior who provided the single thread connecting Chowon to the world.
Chowon took a sip of the coffee. An overwhelming bitterness spread across her tongue. She involuntarily grimaced.
“So, why did you really call me?” “Pardon?” “CEO, you’ve had ‘I have something to say’ written all over your face this whole time.” “…I guess I’m caught.”
With a bitter smile, Hyerim nodded.
“Writer Eun.” “What.” “You haven’t seen it yet, have you? The news.”
Chowon let out a sigh that was half-groan as she looked at the tablet Hyerim handed her. It was a screencap of an article circulating on social media, published a few days ago by an online tabloid with a sensationalist headline:
[The Veiled ‘Killer Author’ A! Who Is She?]
According to the article, the incident began three months ago. In South Korea, many people take their own lives every day. Usually, such common tragedies don’t stay at the top of the news rankings—unless the death has a striking backstory or carries a specific, chilling meaning.
[Recent suicide notes found at multiple scenes have been revealed to be excerpts from Author A’s novels, causing widespread shock.]
As it turned out, one author’s fiction was being linked to a string of deaths.
“…The article dropped on that rainy day when you cancelled. Honestly, I’d received tips about it beforehand. That Writer Eun’s prose was being transcribed into suicide notes.” “So that’s why you called me then. To discuss it.” “Yeah. But the article broke so fast I lost my head. I didn’t expect it to spread this quickly. I’m sorry… for not handling it better.”
Hyerim bowed her head in shame. Chowon stared at the screen and replied flatly:
“Forget it. This isn’t something you can blame anyone for.”
Chowon closed her eyes tiredly before asking in a low voice, “Is your funeral visit today related to this?”
Hyerim hesitated, then let out a deep sigh and nodded.
“An employee who used to work here… they took their own life yesterday. They left a quote from your novel as their suicide note. I’m just on my way back from there.”
Chowon remained silent, her eyes darkening as she looked back at the tablet. The words ‘Killer Author A’ felt like they were branded into her pupils.
“Writer Eun? Are you okay?”
No. How could I be?
Instead of an answer, Chowon let out a heavy, hollow sigh.
Back in her neighborhood, Chowon felt too restless to go home and sat at the bus stop for a long time. She spent the entire trip back searching for articles. The photos showed her own sentences written in the handwriting of the deceased. The reporters claimed they had permission from the bereaved families to publish them.
└ It’s literally a “killer” novel. └ I looked it up; even the cover is creepy as hell. └ Whoa. A character who goes to funerals to draw the faces of the dead? Goosebumps. └ Ugh, I hate writers who intentionally pick dark topics just to look edgy. └ And look at that. “Collecting” people’s faces? That’s terrifying.
Chowon scanned the raw reactions with a forced stoicism. Fifteen suicides. Their final messages. Her sentences.
More articles with even more provocative headlines poured out daily. Bloggers and YouTubers were feasting on the story. Overnight, Chowon’s novel had become infamous.
Why? Why my novel in their notes?
When she finally stood up, she felt a wave of vertigo. Her mind was such a mess that she craved a cigarette, so she ducked into a convenience store.
“Marlboro Lights, please.” “And ring these up too.”
Yohan appeared out of nowhere. Chowon looked at the two bottles of banana milk placed on the counter with annoyance before looking up at him. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder. He looked down at her with eyes full of playful warmth.
“This is borderline stalking.” “I know, right? It’s very suspicious. Are you… following me around, Noona?”
What is this kid even talking about?
While she was busy scowling in disbelief, Yohan paid for both her cigarettes and his milk. When he asked for a bag, the items were tossed in together. He picked it up effortlessly and headed out.
“Why did you pay?” “You were only going to buy cigarettes, but then two banana milks were added.” “I mean, why did you pay for them together in the first place?” “If we pay separately, the clerk has to work twice. We should help each other out; it’s a tough world.”
Unbelievable. What kind of miracle logic is that?
Chowon shook her head, speechless. How is this guy always so relaxed and familiar?
“Just give me the cigarettes.” “No.” “What?” “Come home, eat with me, and drink some banana milk. Then I’ll give them to you.” “…Fine. I’ll just buy another pack.”
Chowon turned back toward the store, reaching into her jacket for her card wallet. But her pocket was empty.
“It’s right here.” Yohan pulled her wallet out of the bag and shook it slightly.
Chowon glared at him, looking thoroughly displeased. “…Is pickpocketing your hobby?” “Of course not. You left it sitting on the counter, so I grabbed it. If it wasn’t for me, you would’ve lost it.” “Give it here.” “Nope. I’ll give it to you at the house.”
Yohan grinned and held it high. Chowon reached for it, but she was no match for his height.
“I said give it!” “And I said I’ll give it to you at home.”
Driven by stubbornness, Chowon didn’t back down. She hopped up, trying to snatch the wallet, but to no avail. To Yohan, the way she was hopping around—she who was usually so indifferent to everything—just to get her wallet back was actually quite cute.
“Whoa—!”
In an instant, her foot slipped. Focused entirely on reaching up, she hadn’t noticed a dip in the asphalt. As she tilted sideways with a gasp, Yohan’s arm quickly swept around her waist to steady her. Chowon reflexively grabbed his shoulders. A faint, clean scent of soap drifted from his collar.
“Wow, Noona, you’re faster than I thought.”
Their eyes met at close range. He looked genuinely surprised.
“…What?” “Were you hoping for a development like this?”
He flashed a grin full of mischief.
Embarrassed, Chowon quickly pushed his arm away and stood upright. She snatched the wallet from his hand and began marching toward her house. She could feel him following close behind.
I can’t even have a smoke in peace when my head is this loud.
She let out a sigh of frustration and lingering shame. The autumn air was cool and dry, making her tangled thoughts feel even more knotted. Suddenly, the comments from the articles she’d read earlier came rushing back.
A novel that invites death. A chilling story about a mad boy who only draws the dead. A horrible piece of fiction that took many lives.
Chowon was usually indifferent to the world, but she couldn’t brush this off. It was a strange sense of guilt—as if she had to take responsibility for deaths she had no direct part in.
Where did it all go wrong?
She ran a hand through her hair and shook her head in irritation.
It happened in that split second.
Chowon, who had been walking with her head down, looked up at the sound of a massive blare. A truck was hurtling toward her at a terrifying speed. And in front of that speeding truck, the white dog she had seen at dawn was running for its life.
Chowon froze. There wasn’t even time to process the situation. Before she could think, the white dog was swept under the truck’s front tires.
Cr-crack.
The beast-like machine didn’t stop, crushing the dog with its rear wheels as well. Only then did Chowon realize. The truck’s target wasn’t the dog.
It’s me. It’s coming to kill me.
She stared blankly at the front of the truck as it closed the distance.
SCREEEEECH—
With a deafening noise, a powerful force yanked Chowon’s body aside. That clean, soft scent she’d noticed earlier suddenly enveloped her entirely. As she was pulled into the embrace, her vision went dark.
The sound of the tires skidding echoed like a world-ending scream. In the midst of the sudden chaos, Chowon’s mind went blank. There was only one question left to ask:
What on earth just happened?
End Of Chapter : 06
