Chapter 125: Kingdom Game

Darren, who had been laughing like a jolly grandfather while reminiscing with Grace, suddenly regained the sharp gaze of a businessman.

"*Kingdom Game*?"

Whether Grace felt Darren’s aura or not, she didn't care and simply spoke her mind nonchalantly.

"I think Junghyuk definitely needs experience with a masterpiece like *Kingdom Game*."

One of Darren’s eyebrows arched.

*Kingdom Game* was a series that currently had only its final season remaining. It was one of the series that had gained explosive popularity not just in the United States, but across the entire world.

"Because of spoilers, the scriptwriting for *Kingdom Game* is being conducted under especially thorough and strict conditions. No outsiders are allowed in."

"You can make it happen, Darren."

Grace stared at Darren as if she already knew he could.

"Sigh. Why should I go that far?"

However, Darren didn't seem inclined to simply go along with Grace’s request.

It was almost as if he was a father drawing a firm line with a young child throwing a tantrum for ice cream.

"Among all the writers I’ve seen, Junghyuk is the most talented and promising. Above all, Darren, the thing you consider most important for people in this industry is 'character.' I guarantee that Junghyuk has those qualities as well."

Grace presented her argument clearly, as if to prove she wasn't just a child asking for ice cream.

"You said it yourself, didn't you? That the Hollywood market is also in a slump. If you meet Junghyuk as a writer, you might see a new path. Darren, you’re someone who is always open to new paths. A pioneer. Aren't you?"

Darren listened calmly to Grace’s words and then turned his gaze toward me.

"That's what Grace says. If I were to put you on the scriptwriting set of *Kingdom Game*, what would Junghyuk do for Grace? You realize this is a massive opportunity, right?"

I wasn't the only one flustered by the sudden situation. I was also preoccupied with processing the proposal Grace had suddenly made.

"I haven't thought about what I should do for Grace, so I'm a bit at a loss."

"Hah. Grace, did you hear that?"

"But as a writer, I know very well that the proposal Grace made for me is rare. It’s an offer no writer could refuse."

In fact, I knew very well how great of a work *Kingdom Game* was. It was a sensational drama that had thrilled people worldwide by turning the original novels into high-quality visuals.

Watching *Kingdom Game*, I had once thought that if I could write a script like that one day, I would have no regrets.

Though it was a completely unexpected route, thanks to Grace, I was now in a position to see that dream-like set. When a pumpkin rolls into your lap, vines and all, you have to find a way to catch it, boil it, and eat it.

"If I can see the workspace of the *Kingdom Game* writers, I will show you the most interesting and perfect script you will ever see in your career, Darren."

Normally, I wouldn't have given such an exaggerated answer, but it was time to make a bold move.

"How interesting. Is Junghyuk saying he’ll write something even better than *Kingdom Game*?"

Darren laughed out loud as if it were absurd.

I simply shrugged my shoulders in a very American fashion.

'I didn't say that without any basis. If it's a 5-point work from Gatflix, I can expect a masterpiece on par with, or even better than, *Kingdom Game*.'

If it was that work, which was still shrouded in mystery, it was entirely possible. And I said I would show it to him—I didn't say I would give it to him. When the time came, a bigger deal would be possible.

"Fine. You've got guts."

Whether my deal had worked or not, Darren accepted the proposal with a hearty laugh.

"Go to this address by 9:00 AM tomorrow."

Darren scribbled a long address on a napkin and handed it to me.

"I'll let them know, so they'll take you in when you get there. But before that, you'll have to sign several documents, including a non-disclosure agreement. There are no exceptions to this, even if it's Grace’s request."

Grace thanked him with a deep kiss on the cheek. Even if he was a famous producer, it wouldn't have been easy to readily agree to such a request. I also made up my mind not to let him down.

"Darren, I'll send you some medicine and herbal remedies prepared by a famous doctor in Korea. They will be very helpful to you."

"Huh? Is Darren sick?"

Leaving behind a worried Grace, Darren and I exchanged a silent look. Darren gave me a thumbs up behind Grace’s back as a thank you, and once again, we shared a man’s secret.

***

If you pass Universal Studios in Hollywood and take Highway 101, you’ll pass Tarzana and Woodland Hills before facing a massive mountain valley.

Driving between lush trees and dirt mounds where no development has taken place, a landscape quite different from the glamorous city of Los Angeles unfolds.

How do I know?

I didn't really want to know either.

On the way to the address Darren had given me the night before, in a taxi Grace had hailed for me early in the morning, I watched the increasingly desolate and distant view outside the window. I was shaking my legs nervously, wondering, 'Is this right? Are my organs about to be harvested?'

Just then, along with a giant wall in the distance, I reached an iron gate that looked like a secret laboratory out of a sci-fi movie.

A burly guard with a handgun on his hip and sunglasses stopped the car and made me get out. Leaving me with nothing but my backpack, the taxi driver hurriedly drove away.

The giant guard took my passport and glanced over my identification and the visitor list.

"Mr. Lee?"

"Yes, yes. That's me."

I smiled as brightly and harmlessly as possible, but he didn't offer a single piece of kindness or a smile as he pushed me inside.

Upon entering the intermediate office located inside the iron gate, a Latino staff member took my phone and laptop and spent over 10 minutes checking them with some unknown equipment. I wanted to tell him there was nothing strange inside, so not to worry, but I was intimidated by a security system stricter than an airport's and kept my mouth shut.

He kept my laptop and returned my phone after attaching a small sticker to it. When I asked about the laptop, I only received a mechanical response saying it would be returned when I left.

Furthermore, as if worried I might do something strange, he told me that the sticker on the phone (he called it some kind of security sticker) must never be removed, and if it happened to fall off, I had to come back immediately to have a new one attached. If I didn't, I was quietly threatened that I would receive a bill for damages in an absurd amount based on certain laws.

"Ahem. I understand. Can I go in now?"

After the rigorous procedure, I passed through another iron gate and could finally step inside. I had imagined the interior of a rigid concrete building like something out of a movie, but...

"Whoa. What is all this?"

A small city unfolded inside. Like a town from the Old West, it was equipped with various restaurants, cafes, and bars, as well as a game room and a clinic.

"Amazing."

I looked around with my mouth hanging open like a country mouse. It felt as surreal as entering a drama set. Of course, the difference from a drama set was that the buildings were meticulously constructed for people to actually live in.

Apparently, they had created a living space where the people working here could eat, sleep, and live. After all, there was nothing more inefficient than commuting in this impossibly large land.

Paying my respects once again to the scale of this superpower, I moved along. When I reached the center building located furthest inside, another exclamation escaped me.

A wide, round concrete building shaped like a domed stadium appeared. At the top, a 'TBO Studio' sign was hung stylishly, just like the Hollywood sign.

"Mr. Lee?"

As I entered the building, a Caucasian man with an earpiece and a tablet greeted me. Actually, it was a young woman who looked young enough to be a teenager, wearing a crop top and countless piercings in her ears, and with no more room in her ears, she had piercings in her navel, nose, and even her eyebrows.

"Hi. I'm Kay."

After a quick handshake, she immediately handed me a tablet.

"You're starting today, right? The junior assistant has a lot to do, so I won't give you a long explanation. Take this and follow me right away."

"Ah. Okay."

Wait a moment.

You might be wondering how I ended up as the junior assistant of TBO Studio, carrying a tablet and quickly following this young white woman.

Yesterday, Darren had certainly offered me the opportunity to observe how American works are developed and processed as a Korean writer. In other words, he was going to let me greet them on equal footing and be treated as a guest.

That alone was a proposal for which I was sufficiently grateful.

However, what I proposed in return was not to be treated as an awkward guest of honor, but to join as a junior staff writer. Both Darren and Grace were puzzled as to why I would voluntarily choose such a bothersome situation.

But my mind was set.

'You can't learn anything by coming as a guest.'

The moment the people here perceived me as a guest, even if they were kind on the surface, I judged that they would instinctively be reluctant to show me the internal details.

Since Grace had set the stage and Darren had opened the path, I had to properly milk it to fully utilize this opportunity. When else would I come to Hollywood and actually see and learn at the working site of TBO Studio, which is recognized as the top-tier studio among drama fanatics for its artistic quality?

I returned to the mindset I had when I first started as an assistant writer. That heart that admired and was excited by dramas. Those days when I wouldn't eat, sleep, or even use the bathroom to produce the best results if given any task, no matter how trivial or small.

It felt like I had returned to those days.

Gripping the tablet in my hand tightly, I followed Kay into the main meeting room.

"I'm sure you've heard enough already. Whatever you see and hear from this point on must never, ever be disclosed to anyone, not even your partner or family. You know that, right?"

"Yes. Of course."

Whether Kay thought I was around her age or not, she gave me a warning as if she were dealing with a younger brother, patting my shoulder.

And when she opened the door...

Inside the large meeting room was an enormous space reminiscent of a grand arena, like an ancient Colosseum. In this space, dozens of tables and dozens of people gathered in their respective groups, engaged in heated discussions.

This was the living scene of a Hollywood script meeting I had only heard about, and the site where the birth of *Kingdom Game* was being conceived.