Chapter 26: The Birth of a Makjang Convert

"Hmm, makjang dramas? Are those even interesting?"

Im Seong-hee and Jeong Tae-mi stared at me in shock at my lukewarm response and immediately questioned me.

"Excuse me? Writer, you haven't watched ?"

"What about ?"

"I watched them, but they weren't any good."

For a moment, the two of them looked as if they'd just witnessed something unthinkable.

Like they’d seen an extreme Japanese nationalist insisting that Dokdo belongs to Japan.

Of course, remembering that I was their employer, they quickly relaxed their expressions, but I could tell the two of them were genuinely passionate about makjang dramas.

They went on to list one masterpiece after another that had made it into the ranks of legendary makjang dramas.

But my reaction remained the same throughout.

"Hmm, is it really all that?"

The once warm pot rice was quickly growing cold.

"You haven’t seen ? Or ?"

"17% and 25%."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I only know the ratings."

"Let's stop, there's no point talking about this with someone who might not even know that Yena is Seonjeong's daughter."

Since I became a drama writer by profession, I've watched countless dramas as a form of study.

But makjang dramas were the exception.

There was already so much to learn, I never understood why I should waste time on stories so childish and cliché.

The atmosphere grew a bit awkward, and finally, Im Seong-hee broke the silence.

"Oh my~ Look at the time!"

"Writer, you should rest. We’ll clean up here."

"I’ll handle the dishes. It’s late, you two should just head home."

After Im Seong-hee and Jeong Tae-mi left,

I gathered the piled-up dishes into the sink and started washing them.

Letting the hot water soak away the grease, I squeezed some dish soap onto the sponge, worked up a good lather, and soon the dishes began to look like new again.

Watching the dishes get clean, I felt strangely at peace and began to drift into thought.

"Hmm, makjang dramas…"

Even with my assistants recommending them, I just couldn't bring myself to write a makjang drama.

It was simple.

I still didn’t understand why makjang dramas were fun or popular.

To put it plainly,

Makjang dramas just aren’t interesting to me.

Of course, as a professional, I haven’t avoided them entirely for research purposes.

But for me, tightly woven stories with logical progression and solid reasoning—like detective stories—are far more entertaining.

'Why do people love makjang dramas so much, anyway?'

Makjang drama in English is called "Soap Opera."

The term comes from serial dramas targeted at housewives washing dishes in the kitchen.

They're made so that even busy homemakers can follow the plot easily, with big, clear speech and simple, intuitive storylines.

So to me, they just felt like mindless time-fillers for housewives.

No matter how much I enjoy writing for Godflix, making easy money from their content,

'Why spend money on something I don't even find interesting?'

When I finished the dishes,

I took my laptop to the living room and set it on the small table in front of the sofa.

Then I logged into the Godflix website and scrolled through the list of dramas available to purchase with my current membership level.

▶Godflix Drama Content (Gold)◀

  
Rating: 2.9

  
Rating: 2.8

  
Rating: 2.6

The concepts and genres—medical, period pieces, historical dramas—seemed fresh, and many had higher ratings than  or , but none of them looked the least bit makjang.

Just then, one title caught my eye.

  
Rating: 2.9

From the title and thumbnail, it was obviously a makjang drama.

Just as I was sitting cross-legged, lost in thought about makjang dramas,

"Kyaaaaaaah!"

"Waaaaaah! Goal! GOAL!!!"

Suddenly, screams echoed throughout the officetel complex.

With all that ruckus, there must have been a national soccer team A-match today.

Not that I mind people screaming, cheering, or even cursing while watching soccer—I wouldn’t call them noise polluters for that.

There’s a special kind of magic (魔氣) in soccer, a wildness that drives people mad, unlike any other sport.

Just look at the English hooligans: when their team loses, they go on violent rampages and pillage the opposing side.

Then again, maybe the British have a sensitivity to "magical energy" because they've been such a greedy colonial nation for centuries.

But if that’s the case, the Korean people—who've endured all manner of foreign invasions and even colonization over five thousand years—are just as soccer-crazed, and our "virtue" is proven by suffering.

If England has hooligans, Korea has the Red Devils.

And unlike England’s hooligans, mostly men in their 20s and 40s, Korea’s Red Devils include everyone—men and women, young and old.

'You sons of bitches! Swim home!'

'I just hate them because they’re ugly.'

'No fighting spirit! Im Chun-ae only ate instant noodles...'

'I'm a sixth grader, and even I could score better, lol'

Despite everyone yelling and cursing like this, soccer is by far the nation’s favorite sport.

I think it’s because there’s no other sport as satisfying to watch while cursing at it.

Almost everyone, regardless of age or gender, has at least some experience with soccer, even if only indirectly.

Since we all have some common knowledge, there’s plenty to criticize, and criticizing is half the fun.

As my mind wandered off thinking about soccer, a realization struck me.

'What if makjang dramas have the same magical energy as soccer?'

For starters, the characters are steeped in materialism—adultery, betrayal, love triangles, birth secrets, in-law conflicts, and so on.

Everyday scandals, both big and small, are basic story fodder.

Lately, even school violence, sexual assault, contract killings, bomb threats—the seasoning has gotten so spicy it numbs the tongue.

Im and Jeong interpret the trend differently from me.

They say makjang dramas are like fire noodles: addictive, spicy, tear-jerking masterpieces that make the whole world laugh and cry.

Of course, I don't buy into such conspiracy theories.

But it’s a fact: makjang dramas are universally popular, across eras, generations, and even countries.

So, whether or not I find them fun, for the sake of profit, I should watch at least one makjang drama.

Without further delay, I purchased episode 1 of .

'If I’m spending money, I might as well pay attention.'

While everyone else was getting worked up over the Korea vs. Japan national team A-match,

I sat down and properly immersed myself in a 16-episode makjang drama.

I lost track of time.

Deep in concentration watching , I heard the sound of someone entering the studio by punching in the passcode.

It was Im Seong-hee and Jeong Tae-mi.

"Oh, Writer?"

"You got up early, huh?"

I reflexively stood to ask why they’d come back, but—

"Huh?"

My legs gave out and my body staggered.

"Oh my, Writer!"

Im Seong-hee hurriedly took off her shoes and rushed in from the entryway to check on me.

As she approached, I could sense the fresh air from outside on her clothes.

Her outfit had changed, too.

Checking the clock, the short hand was pointing at 10.

I was sure I’d sat down around eight... but since it was bright outside, it must be 10 a.m., not 10 p.m.

"Ah!"

"Writer, are you all right? You don’t look so good."

Im Seong-hee glanced at the laptop on the shelf and covered her mouth.

"Oh my, did you stay up all night working on the manuscript?"

I started to say "No," but stopped.

I couldn’t admit I’d stayed up all night watching a makjang drama.

So I just nodded, maintaining my dignity.

***

With Im Seong-hee and Jeong Tae-mi’s help, I managed to make it back to my room and collapsed on the bed, falling into a deep sleep.

When I opened my eyes much later, the sun was already setting.

I turned on my phone and found countless unread messages piled up.

- You haven’t answered all day, what’s up?
- Are you sleeping?
- Let me know when you’re up.

Most of them were from Seo Ji-won, but I skipped those for now and checked the messages from Director Hong Ju-hee first.

- Writer, I heard the news. Please take care of yourself and write at your own pace.

She was worried, saying she’d never seen a writer pull an all-nighter and collapse when there wasn’t even a deadline.

'Looks like I really gave the wrong impression.'

Feeling the dull ache of fatigue, I rubbed my eyes and sighed.

I didn’t want to admit it, but I had to.

Makjang dramas...

'Are so, so, SO fun!'

At this rate, not just 20%, I could easily see them pulling 30% ratings or more.

No other Godflix show has ever compelled me to binge it to the end like .

Even if I spent a whopping 160 million won just for viewing rights.

I was sure of it.

'At the very least, I can earn ten times—no, dozens of times more with this.'

Ready to get to work, I approached Im Seong-hee, who was stir-frying seasoned squid in the kitchen.

"I’ll be working on a new project."

"Yes? And?"

"Could you... bring a meal to my room once a day? If you need ingredients, use this."

I handed Im Seong-hee my personal card, my eyes glinting with determination.

"Whatever else you need, feel free to charge it to my card."

"Ah... y-yes... I don’t mind, but..."

"I’m counting on you."

With preparations complete, I sat back down at my desk.

Then I started typing furiously, transforming the vivid images of  in my mind into a script.

After that, I hardly left my room.

Like a monk in search of enlightenment, I drew the blackout curtains, left the lights off, and spent hours and hours writing in the darkness.

I left all trivial worldly communications to Im Seong-hee and Jeong Tae-mi and retreated into seclusion.

I’d write, then watch Ma Bok-soon again.

Then write some more, eat the food Im Seong-hee brought me, write some more, then collapse into bed.

Eat, sleep, write, watch. Eat, poop, write, watch.

How much time passed like that?

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Someone banged on the door, but I pretended not to hear, sitting motionless at my desk.

Eventually, I heard the clatter of metal chopsticks poking through the door crack, then the door was forced open and an intruder burst in.

"Writer!"

The sudden light made me frown as I turned to the intruder who called out to me in a sharp voice.

It was actress Seo Ji-won, wearing a wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses.

"Why haven't you been answering your phone?"

"I've been... writing the script..."

"Did you forget what day it is?"

"What day is it...?"

Seo Ji-won took off her sunglasses and, with a pout, said,

"Today’s the day we leave for Bali."