Chapter 97: The Ripple Effect of Success

In modern society, a variety of talents are in the spotlight.

Talent for science or the arts.

Talents in the fields of music, fine arts, sports, and other artistic disciplines.

If you get more detailed, there’s talent for acting, talent for business, talent for investment, and so on.

There is envy for all kinds of talent, but by far the most precious of them all is ‘looks’.

Being born with good looks is the best.

If you have a handsome or pretty face, even if you wear ragged clothes, you’ll be treated like royalty; no matter how little you have in your head, you’ll be praised for your purity; and just a bit of kindness is enough for people to call you an angel.

When these natural looks are combined with effort, musical depth, and financial support from an agency, a global star is born.

A global star is an economic monster—someone who can earn billions with a single minute-long commercial, and whose scandals can shake the stocks of major corporations.

The reason Seo Ji-won is constantly shooting ads for ramen, sunscreen, ion drinks, and easily taking the top spot on music charts is that she is a global star with exceptional looks.

Complimenting another person’s outstanding talent is only natural, and I, genius writer Lee Jun-hyuk, am not some miser who grits his teeth and is stingy even with praise.

So, I want to make it absolutely clear right here that the words “You’re pretty” that I ended up saying to Seo Ji-won did not suddenly burst out because of some ugly inner desire, nor was it my true feeling.

“So, I hope there’s no misunderstanding.”

“If you’d just say I’m pretty, that’d be the end of it, but I guess it’s because you’re a writer—you always have the most unnecessary, eloquent excuses, huh?”

“I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“Oh, self-conscious too, I see.”

I was at a loss for words in front of Seo Ji-won, who mercilessly struck me with the facts.

Lately, I must admit, I’ve been feeling a bit lonely.

Ever since my divorce from Jeon Min-jung, my desire for romance had plummeted to the bottom of the deep sea, and until now, I had been solely focused on succeeding brilliantly through Godflix, no matter what.

So now that I seem to have achieved a measure of visible success, I find myself constantly distracted by useless thoughts.

As the atmosphere grew slightly awkward, Seo Ji-won nonchalantly pulled out her phone and fixed her gaze on it.

Was she pretending not to notice, even though she knew how I felt? Or had she really gotten used to someone like me? Outwardly, Seo Ji-won appeared calm, so I threw out a question to break the ice.

“Ahem, what are you looking at so intently?”

“Director Bong Chan-ho’s new movie teaser just came out.”

“Oh, the one coming out this time?”

“Look at this. Even from the teaser, you can feel it, right?”

The teaser showed a huge train smashing through a white glacier as it sped forward.

From the way the people inside the train were dressed, you could instantly tell the extreme divide between the rich and the poor—Director Bong Chan-ho’s unique depiction of class conflict was apparent even in the teaser.

“Wow, it looks so good.”

“You must like Director Bong Chan-ho’s works?”

“If you’re Korean, of course you have to like Director Bong.”

“Hm, is it to that extent?”

“Writer... You shouldn’t say things like that in public. Just because you’ve been winning some awards and getting popular lately, do you think you’re on the same level as Director Bong?”

“Hm, I’ve put my foot in my mouth again, haven’t I.”

Even after the teaser for Director Bong’s new film  ended, Seo Ji-won continued to scold me.

“This won’t do. Writer, what are you doing this weekend?”

“Me? I’ll probably be in the studio writing scripts or something.”

“Nothing special, then. So, this Saturday, you must watch .”

“I told you, I have to work on the script.”

“You write scripts every day, but seeing Director Bong’s  in theaters isn’t an everyday opportunity.”

Maybe she was determined to stick to facts today, because every word out of Seo Ji-won’s mouth left me with no room to argue.

“This won’t do. Writer, come watch the movie with me this Saturday.”

“How did the conversation end up here?”

“Yes. Unless... you don’t want to go?”

“No, it’s not that I don’t want to go, it’s just so sudden, you know...”

“Then let’s go. In fact, I’ve already reserved the tickets.”

Seo Ji-won smugly smiled like a winner, holding out her phone with the QR code for the reservation, already including her seat selection.

Then, as if there was nothing left to say, she got up without hesitation, waved at me, and said goodbye.

“I have a scene coming up soon, so I’m going to get ready for the shoot. See you Saturday. Four o’clock in the afternoon!”

Watching Seo Ji-won’s figure growing distant beyond the garden’s exit, I muttered quietly to myself.

“Since when did she get so bold?”

Anyway.

That’s how I ended up with a weekend appointment.

***

Inside the building of , the drama production headquarters and an external department of CL Media.

Today was the regular monthly meeting for the department heads of .

The main conference room was filled with more than twenty department managers, and at the innermost seat at the head of the table, Director Seok Jin-man spoke up with a grave expression.

“Last year’s operating profit margin dropped by about 14% compared to the year before.”

Looking at the sales chart projected on the conference room wall, Seok Jin-man rubbed his face with frustration as he continued.

“Hoo, the aftermath of  still hurts.”

The team leaders of Production Team 1 and 2 spoke up cautiously.

“OTT platforms and YouTube have caused viewers to drift away, and overall, the market was on a downward trend last year.”

“It’s true that Writer Park Eun-sook’s  was disappointing, but lately, people say her new works are getting better again.”

“It’s uncertain whether Writer Park Eun-sook will want to renew her contract with us after the results of .”

At the worried comments from the team leaders of Teams 1 and 2, Director Seok Jin-man tapped the blank space on his laptop keyboard with his fingers and shook his head.

“No, Writer Park Eun-sook is a practical person. Results are important, but if we match her advance payment, she’ll work with us again.”

In fact, the reason they had pushed for  was because of Jeon Min-jung, the top executive at CL Media headquarters.

At every executive meeting, she would say, “Why can’t we produce blockbusters like the ones on American dramas or Netflix?” and so they had forced ahead with Park Eun-sook’s experimental new work, .

Though the ratings weren’t bad, the excessive production costs resulted in a deficit in operating profit.

‘As Jeon Min-jung said, we got burned messing with sci-fi and our studio took the fall.’

Unless it was a manuscript that could really make people lose their minds, Seok Jin-man thought it would be hard to take such risky ventures again.

“Alright, let’s try to contact Writer Park Eun-sook about her new work, but we can’t support risky genres or production budgets like last time. Match the advance payment to her request.”

“Yes, Director. We’ll go with that direction.”

“Alright. That settles the contract matter with Park Eun-sook. What about our contest?”

One of today’s main agenda items was to select the winning work from CL Media’s official contest, which was held twice a year, in the first and second halves.

The head of Production Team 3, who was in charge of the contest, immediately gave a report.

“Yes, we’ve finished securing all the submissions and completed the internal screening. I’ve sent each PD’s recommended picks to your email.”

Director Seok Jin-man browsed the list of documents sent by the head of Production Team 3, raising one eyebrow as his gaze stopped at a certain title.

“, genre: death game? Who picked this one?”

“Oh, I picked that myself. I know you said we should avoid experimental genres, but...”

“But?”

“The script was just too good. I thought it deserved to be on the list.”

“You really found it that interesting?”

“Yes, Director, I’d appreciate it if you gave it a look.”

“Even just from the synopsis, it seems really raw, doesn’t it?”

Hmm—letting out a short sigh, the director hesitated for a moment before nodding.

Even if they didn’t produce it, if it was truly an excellent script, putting it among the award winners would at least show that they tried to produce an experimental blockbuster as Jeon Min-jung wanted.

After all, slipping it into the awards was one way to go.

“I’ll take a look at this one myself.”

And so, the script for  was saved in the director’s personal folder.

***

Two months had passed since  wrapped up successfully.

At last year’s year-end awards, it won Best Couple and acting awards for the cast, and in step with that, the show’s ratings soared.

In Korea, with big-name writers and actors joining, the show started with strong numbers.

In Japan, viewers said it reminded them of Director Kudo Kei’s glory days, and new rating records were set every day.

As a result, the final ratings were 34.8% in Korea and 34.1% in Japan—the highest in both countries in nearly five years.

Thanks to that, Jung Sung-woo was experiencing a true second heyday.

Especially in Japan, where he was called ‘Jung-sama’, a passionate fandom of women aged 20-40 had formed.

Scenes featuring Jung Sung-woo in Korea were dubbed ‘Jung-sama’s Sacred Places’, attracting waves of tourists.

Especially, the ending scene where Jung Sung-woo was shot and killed while saving Ishihara Sakura was filmed in Damyang, Jeonnam, where the local government even named a street ‘Gangwoo Road’ after the male lead Seo Kang-woo from  and was working hard to promote it.

Conversely, in Korea, Ishihara Sakura gained a fervent male fandom.

Originally, the romance genre was a diversion for female viewers.

But recently, the proportion of male viewers for romance dramas had increased greatly.

Some said it was because, unlike before, the shows now featured not just ‘perfect male leads’ or ‘prince on a white horse’ types, and not just ‘delicate’ or ‘damsel in distress’ female leads, but more realistic male protagonists and charming female leads, attracting more male viewers.

I thought differently. As the average age of male TV viewers increased,

“Their estrogen levels must have gone up!”

Thanks to that, Ishihara Sakura in  once again enjoyed explosive popularity, securing the ‘Romance Queen’ title across Korea and Japan, among both men and women.

I still ignored the occasional texts I got from Ishihara Sakura.

But personal circumstances aside, I was genuinely happy for her second heyday.

Of course, there was also a rookie actress who was starting to threaten that spot.

That was Cheon Na-young.

When she first appeared, people debated online whether she was really the mistress from , because she spoke such perfect Japanese.

Rumors ran wild—was it dubbed, was she a twin, was her nationality actually Japanese?—until Cheon Na-young herself cleared it up in fluent Japanese on her personal SNS, and the brief commotion ended.

Thanks to that, she quickly became the idol of Japanese girls aged 10 to 20, with the overwhelming title, ‘The crazy-beautiful Korean actress who speaks Japanese better than Japanese people!’

She was so popular she was rushing back and forth between Korea and Japan for endless fan meetings and commercials, rivaling any K-pop idol.

‘Up to here, fine. That much was to be expected.’

The problem was what happened next.