The one thing I felt after meeting Director Kang Ki-hyung was clear.
He’s… how should I put it… really big.
Was it a commanding presence?
Having met several American directors, I often noticed how physically imposing many of them were.
Director Kang Ki-hyung was no exception—he was remarkably large.
It’s not that he’s overweight… more like his frame is naturally massive.
In any case, we gathered in the meeting room and started the discussion.
It’s going smoother than I expected.
Since we had already talked things over beforehand, the meeting proceeded quite smoothly.
As the conversation about the contract was nearing its end, I looked at Director Kang Ki-hyung.
“There’s something I’d like to ask.”
Though I could speak Korean, I spoke in English since there were others around.
Judging by how he followed the contract discussion, I figured he was fluent enough in English.
“Yes, go ahead,” he said.
Unlike how he addressed others, Kang Ki-hyung spoke cautiously, almost deliberately.
It was clear he, too, had been wanting to talk with Yongsu Kwon.
“You mentioned wanting a 12-episode series… To be honest, that feels like too much.”
The production budget was generous, and Orange TV+ was pushing for 12 episodes.
But I was against it.
It’s not a book with a lot of words.
Rat Hole isn’t a particularly long book.
The reason I wanted it adapted into a drama was because it had plenty of foreshadowing that could be expanded to enrich the story.
I tied up all the loose ends… but some were resolved too hastily.
People say the dark worldview makes it polarizing, but there was another reason.
Compared to its expansive worldview, the story was too concise and lacked sufficient explanation.
It was written with minimal exposition, which is why it felt that way.
The publisher suggested splitting it into multiple volumes… but that wasn’t an option.
The protagonist moves forward with just a single thread of hope.
Because I wanted to give only one thread of hope, I also wanted to give just one tragedy.
So, I worked hard to establish the entire worldview in a single volume.
“What do you think is an appropriate number of episodes, Writer-nim?” Kang Ki-hyung asked.
“Six episodes at most.”
Of course, I’d be happy if they made more.
But I couldn’t tolerate anything that would compromise the work’s integrity.
At my words, Director Kang Ki-hyung gave a slight smile.
“I wrote a script in preparation for today. Would you mind taking a look?”
“A script? Already?”
“It’s just a draft, of course.”
It was a script born from Director Kang Ki-hyung’s hobby.
He visualized the work as a film in his mind, and from those imaginings, he wrote the script.
It wasn’t a finished product—just something written for fun.
But the sheer volume of the script was overwhelming.
It was stacked so high it reached my eye level.
Even though I was sitting, I could tell just how much he had written to reach that height.
Is this guy insane?
Pouring this much passion into a project that hasn’t even been finalized?
Unaware of Kang Ki-hyung’s hobby, Yongsu Kwon couldn’t help but be shocked.
“It was fun to write the whole time,” Kang Ki-hyung said.
No, even for someone like Kang Ki-hyung, writing this much was unusual.
He had simply been thinking about the story of Rat Hole in various ways, and it resulted in this massive pile of scripts.
I picked up the topmost script.
Seeing it densely packed with English text gave me goosebumps.
This guy… he’s crazy.
It wasn’t just a guess anymore—it was certainty.
Even from a brief glance, I could tell it was a properly crafted script.
“You’re planning to add new story elements, aren’t you?”
“That’s right.”
“And you think I’ll allow that?”
I know Rat Hole isn’t a perfectly polished work.
Even so, it’s not at a level where new stories need to be added.
Expanding on the hastily resolved foreshadowing or minor story threads would’ve been enough for me.
At my words, the meeting room fell silent, the atmosphere turning cold.
Yet, the smile on Kang Ki-hyung’s face didn’t fade.
“So, all I need to do is bring a story that satisfies you, right, Writer-nim?”
“Are you confident? You’re a film director—have you ever directed a drama?”
“I believe being a film director makes me capable of even more interesting direction.”
Not a single word was conceded.
Was it the power of experience? The weight of his reputation?
No, it was neither.
Confidence, huh…
In Korea, Director Kang Ki-hyung is called the king of box office hits.
His films always boasted sensational direction, and his stories, transcending eras and generations, consistently drew massive audiences.
That confidence was the secret to his success.
“I’ll add one more condition,” I said.
Whenever I signed a deal for an adaptation, I always reviewed the director’s entire body of work.
It was to entrust them with full control.
Likewise, I had reviewed all of Director Kang Ki-hyung’s works.
“I want to be involved in the drama’s production.”
“…!”
At those words, Loony’s eyes widened in shock.
Others might not have noticed, but Loony, who was always by my side, couldn’t help but be stunned by Yongsu Kwon’s statement.
In contrast, a smile spread across Kang Ki-hyung’s face.
“I’m fine with that.”
It was a smile that suggested he had gotten the answer he wanted.
Seeing that smile, I couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle.
He planned this, didn’t he?
The directors I’d met so far fell into two categories.
One type had such high pride that they wanted to adapt the work themselves, even after securing the rights.
The other, like Director André, wanted to collaborate and communicate with me during the process.
I preferred the latter.
Even if I give them full control, there needs to be some communication.
I was curious about how my novel would be adapted, but I wasn’t a fan of transformative adaptations that emphasized the film’s independence as its own entity.
Maybe after I’m dead or retired…
If it were a remake after a successful adaptation, I might understand.
But I deeply cherished the current worldview of the work and didn’t want it to change any further.
“I’ll send you all the scripts I’ve written so far. I hope they align with the story you envision, Writer-nim.”
“Haha… Well, then.”
Though he spoke politely, there was a certain edge to his voice.
To put it simply, it was this:
He’s saying he’ll create a better story than me?
On top of the world I created?
Rather than feeling angry at Kang Ki-hyung’s words, a smile crept onto my face.
“Let’s proceed with the contract.”
At those words, the faces of everyone who had been anxiously listening lit up.
Especially the people from Orange TV+—their faces were so bright, it was as if they were entirely different from earlier.
“I hope you come up with a story that suits my work.”
At my words, Director Kang Ki-hyung gave a subtle smile.
And so, we finalized the contract for Rat Hole.
***
As soon as the meeting ended, I immediately called the kids via video chat.
The reason was that, despite the long meeting, not a single notification had come through on my phone.
They’re not using the card? Is something wrong?
I could understand if they were just sightseeing and not using it.
But I had told them to buy whatever they wanted to eat or get, so it felt strange that they hadn’t used it at all.
“Uncle,” Hye-yeon’s face appeared on the phone.
But something seemed off.
“Huh? You’re still at the hotel?”
The background where Hye-yeon was standing looked too familiar.
“Yes, we’re still at the hotel,” she said.
“Didn’t Chrissy’s manager come?”
“She came, but… we sent her back.”
I couldn’t help but feel flustered.
Why on earth would they send her back?
“Jiyu and Yuri said they wanted to hang out with you, Uncle. They didn’t want to go out just by ourselves…”
At those words, my heart suddenly stirred.
The cold, sterile feeling from the meeting room vanished, replaced by something warm rising deep within my chest.
No thoughts came to mind.
It was just… warm.
If I let my guard down even a little, it felt like tears might spill from my eyes.
So that’s how it is…
This feeling was entirely new.
It was different from the past.
Unlike when I came to meetings alone, slept in hotels alone, and headed home alone.
Now, there were people waiting for me, kids who wanted to walk alongside me.
“I’m sorry. You went through the trouble of arranging it.”
“No, it’s fine. We can just have fun together.”
As I stood there, dazed, worry crept onto Hye-yeon’s face.
I quickly smiled and reassured her it was okay.
“But I might be a bit late. I think I’ll get there after lunch… Is that okay?”
“Oh… Really?”
Seeing the disappointment on Hye-yeon’s face, I hurriedly changed my words.
“Forget it, I’ll just skip it.”
“Huh? Is that okay?”
“Of course. It’s actually perfect. There was someone there I didn’t like anyway.”
“You mean I’m the one you didn’t like?”
A voice suddenly came from behind with a sound.
Turning around, I saw Director Kang Ki-hyung standing there, his massive presence unmistakable.
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean you, Director. Just someone in the meeting room I didn’t vibe with.”
“The atmosphere seemed pretty good for that.”
“I’m just good at playing along with the mood.”
“I see. That’s a relief. I was worried I’d gotten on your bad side before we even started. Haha!”
I didn’t dislike Director Kang Ki-hyung.
In fact, compared to other directors I’d met, he was quite likable.
“By the way, who are you talking to?”
…I was talking to my niece.
“Your niece? Oh! You mean that Yuri girl?”
“You know her?”
“Of course. We’re mutuals on SNS.”
Yuri must have gotten a follow request from him.
“I even commented, asking if she’d like to make a cameo in my work. Got left on read, though.”
…
“Such a shame. She’s a striking kid.”
I couldn’t tell if he was joking or serious.
When I first met him, he seemed serious, but now he came off as playful.
“I’m video chatting with my other niece right now.”
“Oh, mind if I say hi? I’m kind of a big deal in Korea, unlike you, Writer-nim.”
I couldn’t tell if he was trying to get friendly or just keep joking.
Shaking my head, I showed him the phone.
“Hello. I’m Kang Ki-hyung, Adele Louis’s niece.”
“Huh? Huh? Huh? Director Kang Ki-hyung?”
“Oh, you know me?”
“Of course! I’m a fan!”
At Hye-yeon’s words, I was taken aback.
A fan?