Free Soup Kitchen.
A place that provided free meals to people so poor they couldn't afford a single bite to eat.
It was an unknown territory even for me back in the orphanage days. In some ways, orphanage life might've been better than this. They served three solid meals a day without fail, and they even gave us pocket money! Some folks imagine orphanages as hellholes where kids get abused or starve—pure fiction.
With donations pouring in from all sorts of social groups and government tax dollars funding the place, why would they let kids go hungry? Heck, we even got chicken or pizza once or twice a month. We weren't living large like other families, buying toys or computers left and right, but we weren't scraping by either.
Since reincarnating into this family, I could count the times we've had pizza or chicken on one hand. Mom and Dad shelled out a fortune to save my life back then. And I'm no whiny kid throwing tantrums over fried chicken, so maybe that's why they never bought it like other families do.
I slipped out of my pajamas and changed into proper clothes. Like I'd head out in PJs. The wind was howling—it was freezing out there.
Once I was dressed and ready, Mom and Dad looked at me with apologetic eyes.
"Sora, honey, I'm sorry... Mommy doesn't have money to feed you properly..."
Dad chimed in too.
"Sora. Dad'll buy you yummy chicken or pizza later, okay? You love that stuff, right?"
I nodded at their words. It didn't really matter. No one dies from missing out on tasty food. If anything, from my perspective, having a family was the real win. Sleeping sandwiched between Mom and Dad? Nothing put me to sleep faster. It was a feeling I'd never known in the orphanage.
I hadn't realized it as a guy, but deep down, I'd been longing for parents... for a warm home.
"Alright, let's go~"
And just like that, we arrived at the free soup kitchen near our house. It was mostly filled with elderly folks. Young people had no reason to be here. No shame in it, though. Unless you were drowning in massive debt, skipping meals just wasn't normal.
In modern Korea, how many people actually starve to death? Sure, it happened plenty in the old days, but these days? You'd be lucky to see it once in a lifetime. Even then, probably not among your own circle.
Sitting crammed in among the old timers for a meal was a novel experience, even after a few visits.
"Aigoo, what a pretty little thing~ Out with Mom and Dad, huh?"
Some elders said nice things like that.
"Aigoo... dragging a young child to a place like this..."
"Such a pitiful family..."
"How do they plan to raise that kid...?"
Others shot our family pitying, negative looks. But their stares didn't embarrass me one bit. Our family was on the cusp of happiness now—nothing left but good times ahead.
All I had to do was transcribe the novel plots in my head and sell them. That'd get us out of beggar status, right?
I munched on the soup kitchen grub, daydreaming about chowing down on fancy steak at a restaurant with Mom and Dad. The food wasn't bad—there was even meat, which was rare at home.
"Hmm..."
I crossed my arms, staring at the computer screen. When I first uploaded chapter one, there was zero buzz.
Makes sense. Who seeks out a one-chapter novel? No buildup, not even the protagonist's name yet.
Unless you're a die-hard novel junkie, you wait for a decent stack first. That's why they tell aspiring web novelists to grind out 15 or 25 chapters before shutting up.
Unless you're blessed with god-tier writing skills, no novel explodes from chapter one. You need at least five before eyes start wandering over.
In that light, after stacking five chapters of Sunlight Painter, the reactions poured in. Explosive, even—it topped the novel board on Daldongne.
— AnonymousIt's fun.— AnonymousWho knew game fantasy could be this fun?— AnonymousProtagonist concept is wild—making game money in-game to sell IRL...— AnonymousCheers^^This world hadn't fully embraced the idea of grinding games for cash yet. Well, it existed in pockets—some games already had people selling in-game money.
But to gamers here, it still carried a romantic vibe. Dark gamer, they called it.
Of course, give it time, and it'd spawn slurs like rice-eaters, rice bugs, part-timers... Society didn't look kindly on gamers making real money that way. Even other gamers shunned the money-grinders.
Anyway, no mature market for it yet. To sell this genre, I'd need a publisher.
If web novel sites existed, I'd just upload there. But they didn't—not yet.
I scrolled through the comment flood. Mostly impressions, but sprinkled among them were contract offers.
Several publishers had chimed in. I needed to pick the best terms. I read the emailed contract details, then dialed the one with the juiciest offer. But things went sideways.
"Um... this is the author of Sunlight Painter."
📞 Publisher Rep"Huh?"
"I saw your comment on the novel and called."
📞 Publisher Rep"How old are you? That voice screams elementary kid—don't prank call, sis is busy."
"Uh..."
Click.
Beep—beep—beep—
I'd splurged on a payphone for this hefty investment, but they hung up like I was spam.
Yeah, my voice? Pure elementary school girl to anyone who heard it. No shock the rep assumed it was a kid pranking.
This was a problem...
I froze, payphone receiver in hand.
Solutions existed, sure—demo my writing in person. But no bus fare to the publisher. Beg Mom for ten thousand won? Serious dilemma. No transfers back then either; my pocket change wouldn't cover the trip.
"Haa..."
Yoo Min-ah, employee at Songi Media, couldn't help sighing today. Her boss's words from yesterday echoed in her head.
📞 Boss (Kim Sung-ho)"Hey, Min-ah! We gotta find the author of this no matter what. Can't let another publisher snag 'em!"
It was all because of one novel on the site. Six chapters out, and it was blowing up. Pure game fantasy fun at its core. Min-ah had read it and loved it too—left a comment, even.
But the only call? Some elementary kid. If she could just meet the author, she'd greenlight a fat contract, no questions.
No IP tracing? No dice finding them. And from the comments, rival publishers were circling too. Min-ah pouted, changing clothes.
Day off today—time to blow off work stress.
Book lover and game nut, she was a total gamer girl. Lately, hooked on the hot FPS Sudden Attack. Super fun. She hit her usual PC bang—nice split between non-smoking and smoking sections.
Sure, faint cig smoke lingered even in non-smoking, but better than gaming in a haze.
"Whoops."
She plopped into her usual spot, fired up the PC, and dove in.
Head practically in the monitor, someone sat next to her.
'Huh?'
Not weird—seats were side-by-side. But a kid next to Min-ah? A girl kid, no less. Boys that age showed up for games plenty, but girls? Lottery odds. Second prize, easy. Maybe first—looked that young. Kindergarten vibes.
Games were mostly dude territory; girls barely touched 'em. Younger? Even rarer.
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Read 21 more chapters ahead on NovelDex!
https://noveldex.io/series/the-elementary-schooler-who-writes-like-a-pro
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