After finishing the commercial shoot, Taeha was in the car on the way back.
Seated in the backseat, Taeha followed the link Ryu Soo-gyeom had sent and ordered a photo of a suitable size to hang at home.
It was one of the photos displayed at the Flower Zoom-in exhibition.
Though it was quite expensive, Taeha completed the purchase without hesitation.
Now, he had that much leeway.
In fact, Taeha had recently moved out of a one-room to a three-room officetel.
A house with three rooms, all to himself.
For both Ho-jun and Taeha, it was an emotional moment.
Even if it was just on monthly rent.
It was when Taeha finished the order.
Im Chan-hyung, who had been watching him through the rearview mirror, spoke up.
“I have a mystery about you…”
“What is it?”
“The mood at every shoot is always so good, so why do we always get home later than scheduled?”
At Im Chan-hyung’s question, Taeha flashed a smile.
“Still, as long as the result turns out well, that’s all that matters.”
It was understandable that Im Chan-hyung would wonder about it.
When working with Director Lee Hae-ik on Critical Point and Heureojeo Itdeon Saramdeul, Taeha got it.
If Director Lee Hae-ik, also known as Art Ik, was in a good mood, the shoot would get longer—it was almost like Director Lee Hae-ik’s passive skill.
But it wasn’t just Director Lee Hae-ik.
Even Jeong Myeong-hwan of Killer × Killer, known for efficient shooting, started to drag the shoot out uncharacteristically.
Later, they even filmed the same scene dozens of times.
Of course, unlike with Director Lee Hae-ik, Jeong Myeong-hwan’s purpose for multiple takes was different.
For Jeong Myeong-hwan, it wasn’t about mise-en-scène, but about fulfilling the constant stream of action ideas popping into his head.
Still, the shoots always ran long, just the same.
And it was the same with Ryu Soo-gyeom.
Even without anyone noticing or having a bad attitude during the commercial shoot, the shooting time was oddly long.
It wasn’t even due to mise-en-scène or action ideas.
It was simply a desire to keep capturing the perfect subject—Taeha.
That desire caused the shooting to go on and on.
And the reason things kept playing out this way was simple.
Taeha’s presence made whoever was leading the shoot want to burn with passion.
That was the reason.
“And this kind of presence, it probably comes from your Immersion Ability.”
Immersion Ability wasn’t just something that helped Taeha reach his highest potential.
It decisively affected the abilities of those he worked with, boosting their skills as well.
This had already been proven with Han Yun-seong, Seon Min-gi, and Lee Seok-hyun.
And Ryu Soo-gyeom was no different.
Affected by the Immersion Ability, he, too, burned with passion.
Of course, it wasn’t just the Immersion Ability that made Ryu Soo-gyeom act that way.
Im Chan-hyung brought up this point.
“Anyway, every time I see your Affinity and Preparedness, I’m amazed. When did you even find those photos of Writer Ryu Soo-gyeom?”
It was Taeha’s Affinity and Preparedness.
These had a positive effect, stoking Ryu Soo-gyeom’s passion.
In fact, those qualities had a considerable influence on transforming the atmosphere on set.
Anyone who had been on site would know.
Taeha knew this well, so he replied to Im Chan-hyung’s question with a hint of embarrassment.
“The timing just worked out. The Killer × Killer shoot was done, so I had a lot of free time.”
“Yeah, but having time doesn’t mean you’d actually think to do it. Anyway, I’m sorry.”
Im Chan-hyung’s sudden apology.
Taeha felt taken aback by the apology.
Because as Taeha, he couldn’t think of anything in their conversation for which Im Chan-hyung needed to apologize.
So he had to ask.
“Sorry? For what?”
“For making you look up Writer Ryu Soo-gyeom’s materials. The more I think about it, the more I feel like I should’ve prepared those myself.”
“Why would you? I did it because I thought I needed to.”
“No. It’s my job to prepare that. And as your Manager, it’s ridiculous that the person who should know the most about Writer Ryu Soo-gyeom actually knows almost nothing.”
It wasn’t a completely unreasonable point.
If the Manager could handle even this kind of work, it would only benefit Taeha.
More than anything, Taeha didn’t want Im Chan-hyung to remain just his Manager.
He hoped Im Chan-hyung would move up to Director or even General Manager, continuing to grow.
And for that, this kind of sense was essential.
Not just following the Artist around and supporting, but directly taking charge of work and bringing in new opportunities—such qualities were a must.
“If someone asked whether you’re lacking as a Manager…”
Not at all.
If anything, Im Chan-hyung had more than enough ability.
Just managing actors who also wanted to be drama scriptwriters, and making sure they were satisfied, was a tough job in itself.
And yet Im Chan-hyung was pulling it off.
That’s why Taeha spoke up carefully.
“You’re already doing more than enough. You know that, right?”
“I do. But still, even with how well I’m doing, you’re rising much faster. So I need to match your tempo and keep growing too.”
“That’s why, from now on, I’ll take full responsibility for researching materials on the people you’ll be meeting. You get what I mean?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
Taeha was once again grateful that someone like Im Chan-hyung was his Manager.
Maybe, since Bingeui, the most amazing thing to happen to Taeha was meeting Im Chan-hyung.
***
9th episode 12.8%, 10th episode 13.5%, 11th episode 14.1%…
Virus kept up its astonishing upward trend and, in its final 12th episode, finally recorded 14.9%.
It was disappointing to fall short of 15% by just 0.1%, but in the end, Virus succeeded in making it into the top ten highest drama ratings of all time.
Some might say, “It’s just 10th place, what’s there to be happy about?”
But that wasn’t it.
In an age overflowing with things to watch, breaking 10% viewership was an amazing success for any drama.
What’s more, Virus was the only 12-episode series in tvM’s all-time top ten; every other drama on the list had at least 16 episodes, or more.
A record so astonishing, it was hard to imagine it ever being repeated.
That’s why the media kept talking about Virus’s incredible success, analyzing it from every angle.
From analyses praising the performances of actors like Han Yun-seong and Yoo Yeonha, to those saying the pre-airing controversy ended up being brilliant marketing.
There were all sorts of analyses, most of which were close to the mark.
In the end, Virus was a success because everything fell perfectly into place.
But among all these, the key reason for Virus’s success, mentioned most and most agreed upon by the public, was the work’s flawless execution from start to finish.
That was it.
Even after episode 9, Virus kept up a composition that delivered a reversal every episode.
Episode 9 revealed that No Ji-hee was the ultimate villain—the head of the organization backing the Project.
Episode 10 revealed that, though she’d realized the Project would fail, No Ji-hee, a terminal cancer patient, was so afraid of dying that she unleashed the zombie virus and turned the world into a Zombie Apocalypse.
Episode 11 revealed that, once again, No Ji-hee was trying to turn the world into a Zombie Apocalypse, only to be thwarted by Han Seo-yul.
Then, episode 12.
No Ji-hee, with the zombie virus in hand, heads straight into the heart of Itaewon, where the Halloween Festival is in full swing.
Just as she did in the previous timeline, No Ji-hee decides to smash the vial of zombie virus in the middle of the festival.
“This is the only way. So everyone can enjoy eternal life equally.”
Just as No Ji-hee is about to throw the vial containing the zombie virus to the ground—
Someone suddenly grabs her wrist with a firm grip.
It’s Han Seo-yul.
“This isn’t living. This is everyone dying.”
“So, you’ve chased me all the way here.”
“And you stopped me.”
At Han Seo-yul’s words, No Ji-hee’s face twists as if she’s about to cry, then she suddenly bursts out laughing.
“Hahaha. So you think you’ve won, huh? But what are you going to do? That’s not the only vial, you know?”
And then comes the scene.
People dressed as zombies, holding identical vials to the one No Ji-hee has.
Yes.
Knowing Han Seo-yul would stop her, No Ji-hee had made several zombie virus vials and handed them out to others.
“Now, here, people in zombie costumes will really turn into zombies. Even if you were too shy to enjoy Halloween in broad daylight, that’s okay. We’ll all look the same. Ready?”
Then, the sound of a vial shattering.
At the same time, people begin turning into zombies.
Ecstasy blooms on No Ji-hee’s face.
But something feels off.
She looks up to see Han Seo-yul calmly staring at her.
Realizing things aren’t going as she planned, No Ji-hee asks Han Seo-yul,
“What is this? What did you do?”
Finally, a smile forms on Han Seo-yul’s lips.
He answers No Ji-hee’s question.
“I did what was needed to make sure you’d never get what you want.”
Han Seo-yul snatches the vial from No Ji-hee’s hand and pours its contents over his head.
No Ji-hee’s eyes widen.
Amazingly, even after being drenched in the zombie virus, Han Seo-yul shows no change at all.
Then Han Seo-yul holds up another vial in his other hand.
“You asked me once, didn’t you? If I was some kind of regressor. How I always managed to stop you as if I knew the future. That’s right. I was a regressor. But the thing I regretted most in that world wasn’t that I failed to stop you from spreading the zombie virus.”
“Then…?”
“It was not being able to create a cure for the zombie virus. I’m a researcher, after all.”
“No way…”
“That’s right. So your dream can never come true. Because in this world, there’s already a cure for your apocalypse.”
At that moment, the sound of helicopter blades fills the air.
From above, a mist-like anticancer drug—the cure for the zombie virus—spreads throughout Itaewon.
Amid the fog of the cure that blocks annihilation, No Ji-hee collapses to her knees.
Virus ends with No Ji-hee being arrested by the police.
And the series, ending like this, received overwhelming praise from viewers.
It couldn’t have been otherwise.
People expected Virus to simply end with stopping the zombie virus—but it had depicted even Han Seo-yul’s personal growth.
With all that tension and so many reversals, of course it would be praised.
And the extraordinary completeness of Virus wasn’t left only in the hearts of the viewers.
“…So, what do you say? Will you make me the Main Character next time too?”
Han Yun-seong’s question at Virus’s wrap party was proof enough of that.