Former Warrior Turns Into A Million-Dollar Actor [EN]: Chapter 23

Drifting Scenario (1)

* * *

All eyes turned. Park Geon, who had been looking at his smartphone, slowly raised his head.

“I’m not really sure. Seon handles all my work contacts, so I mostly just play mobile games these days.”

“Games? You play games too?”

“Of course, PD! It’s a great way to pass the time when you’re waiting around. What kind of games do you play?”

“Just a little of everything. But there’s always a play time limit if you don’t pay.”

“Oh, so like Heart Run? Or some kind of RPG?”

“It’s not just one or two…”

Park Geon simply handed over his smartphone. Seo Hee-do let out a bizarre scream as he looked at the list of installed games.

“’Conquest of the Demon King’s Castle,’ ‘Demon Hunter Academy,’ ‘Chronicles of the Six Heroes’… Hyung [older brother/male friend], is this really your thing?”

Writer Eun Hee-wook also craned his neck to chime in.

“They’re all fantasy. I guess this genre is popular these days. Director Gam Woo-chan recently invested 20 billion won into one, calling it Korean-style SF.”

“Is that so? I thought it would be difficult because of the CG costs for dramas and movies.”

“Hey, that’s old news. Since the OTT [Over-The-Top media service, like Netflix] scene has grown, they’re pulling in almost any investment amount. When was it? I also got a scenario about a demon or something.”

“A demon?”

“Yes. I think it was… not a drama, but a movie. I passed on it because I don’t like occult stuff.”

PD [Production Director] Na Jong-mo asked.

“Not fantasy but occult? Who was the director?”

“I don’t remember well. Anyway, the scenario was interesting, with the main character, a priest, fighting demons while splattering blood.”

“If Hee-do can’t remember, it must have been a director with low name recognition. Even if you do those occults, you won’t get many viewers. It’s a waste of effort, and if you film it wrong, the director or actor will ruin their career.”

PD Na Jong-mo said in a definitive tone, but Park Geon turned to Seo Hee-do.

“Could I possibly see that scenario?”

Seo Hee-do looked puzzled.

“Uh, it’s been a while since I got the script… I’ll ask my manager hyung [older brother/male friend] first. If I dig around, it’ll probably be buried somewhere.”

“Please do. I’m a bit interested.”

“That non-mainstream occult stuff? There should be PDs lined up at the broadcasting station looking for Geon hyung [older brother/male friend]?”

“That’s right, Park Geon’s stock price is about to hit its peak. Why don’t you go for a safe romance instead? If you just appear in MBS and our drama department’s anticipated works in order, you’re guaranteed consecutive home runs.”

“It said there are demons.”

“······Huh?”

It was a nonchalant voice, but there was a chilling determination within.

Na PD, with his good memory, recalled where he had seen that side of Park Geon before.

‘That’s the same as that time. When he went crazy during the audition and came all the way to the production team’s desk.’

In the chilling atmosphere, Seo Hee-do, who was looking around pitifully, started hiccuping.

Park Geon finished speaking indifferently.

“Then I have to read it. Even if it’s just for courtesy.”

*

After Park Geon went to the bathroom, the people left in the lounge took a deep breath.

“Phew, I thought Choi Seung had suddenly appeared. PD-nim [term of respect], you thought so too, right?”

Seo Hee-do’s words were echoed by PD Na Jong-mo.

“Don’t even mention it, Hee-do. I’ve seen that twice. My heart pounds every time Geon gets serious.”

“The games he plays are also demon-related, and the scenarios he’s interested in are occult, isn’t he just a fantasy maniac?”

“He might have been an angel in his past life. That’s why he hates demons so much.”

Writer Eun Hee-wook raised an objection.

“Hey PD-nim [term of respect], an angel is a bit… doesn’t it not fit Park’s image at all? I could see him as a demon-slaying hunter, though.”

“It’s okay. He’s an angel to me.”

Seo Hee-do, who had installed the game Park Geon mentioned, showed interest.

“Why? Is there something between you two again?”

“The director gave himself a 2-night, 3-day vacation. He’s leaving for Europe with his wife tomorrow.”

“Wow, just PD-nim [term of respect] again!”

“If you’re upset, become a salaried worker, actor Seo Hee-do.”

*

Keunbeom Studio.

There were three people sitting in the office: CEO Tae Jong-beom, Director Kim Ryul, and the assistant director, sitting around dishes ordered from a local Chinese restaurant.

Even with the steaming Chinese food in front of them, the atmosphere was as gloomy as a funeral home.

‘Seriously, why are they acting like this even after ordering food?’

The assistant director, who was watching them carefully, silently shoved a mouthful of noodles into his mouth.

“Director Kim.”

CEO Tae Jong-beom, who had been keeping his mouth shut, called out.

“Yes.”

“Have you thought about it?”

“Yes, I’ve made a decision.”

“Oh, so finally…”

CEO Tae Jong-beom’s face lit up, but Director Kim Ryul shattered his expectations.

“The conclusion is that there’s no need to think about it. I won’t film if you’re going to force actors on me based on the investor’s influence.”

“No, why are you doing this!”

CEO Tae’s saliva exploded. The assistant director quickly moved the sweet and sour pork dish to the side.

“Director Kim, I’ve said it dozens of times. No matter how long you hold onto this scenario, no investor will come. Korean occult is dead after Gwigokryeong failed. If you’re going to film this genre, you have to go to Thailand or join Wellflix. Are you going to dominate the OTT [Over-The-Top media service] scene?”

“That’s because the movie was terrible. Even if Gwigokryeong was released in Hollywood, it wouldn’t have attracted even ten thousand people.”

The wrinkles on CEO Tae’s forehead deepened as Director Kim Ryul continued to speak.

“Was it Reverend Kang Jong-gu? The Wednesday-Thursday drama he did on YTS last year had a decent response. If we cast good actors and get some word-of-mouth…”

“That’s because we don’t have those good actors!”

The assistant director quietly covered one ear, and Director Kim Ryul nonchalantly tore apart the wooden chopsticks.

“He says he can’t do it because of this, and he doesn’t like her because of that, and it’s been a year already. Director Kim, we can’t get A-list actors in our position. Do you know how much Joo Ho-yeon gets paid per episode?”

Director Kim Ryul’s scenario, ‘Black Priest,’ had been stuck in a rut for over a year.

Of course, there are plenty of scenarios in this industry that wander around without meeting good investors.

The reason is, of course, money, that damn money.

Even to film an independent film with the bare minimum, it starts at 300 million won, and if it’s a genre film, the starting price jumps five times.

Unless you belong to a so-called dinosaur entertainment company that handles production, investment, and distribution, you have to find an investor.

Actors? You have to call them with the director’s name value or money, but ‘Keunbeom Studio’ is just a small production company that has barely established itself.

However, what’s making CEO Tae Jong-beom anxious is that even though an angel investor has appeared to solve all these problems, the director is pulling out.

“Director Kim, stop being stubborn and leave it to C&J. They said they’ll provide all the investment if you just let them cast one lead and one supporting role as they want. Who was the card they offered?”

The assistant director, who had swallowed what was in his mouth, quickly answered.

“Kang Gyun-mo and Seo Ye-ju.”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with them? Are they lacking in image or acting skills? They’re professionals.”

Director Kim Ryul, who had been closing his eyes like a stone Buddha, answered immediately.

“Their acting skills are lacking. Their images are also different. Kang Gyun-mo’s range can’t handle this role.”

“Director Kim, look at the good side…”

“Seo Ye-ju is the same. I’m saying this after watching both actors’ filmographies.”

“But they said they won’t give us money if we don’t use them. If we gather all our funds and small investments, it’s only 300 million won. You said we need at least 3 billion won to film it properly, right?”

The situation reversed when the topic of money came up. Director Kim Ryul said in a somewhat unsure tone.

“What about crowdfunding for the public…”

“What are they going to support, our studio? Or the name value of a rookie director who has only filmed one independent film and is now making his first genre film?”

There was no answer. CEO Tae Jong-beom took out a cigarette pack and tapped it on the table as if frustrated.

“I know Director Kim’s skills well. I also know that this scenario is well-written. That’s why I’ve been clinging to it for a year, putting aside other works.”

“······.”

“But we don’t have actors. We don’t have money either. Sometimes the next best thing can be better. Does an academy-level movie turn into trash just because Cha Do-woon instead of Kang Gyun-mo, or Baek Ha-ni instead of Seo Ye-ju, appears? We have to show a good story to the audience first.”

The firm expression of Director Kim Ryul, who was as tanned as a sailor, began to crack.

CEO and assistant director exchanged glances, not missing the opportunity.

‘Did it work?’

‘I think so?’

‘Prepare the interjections. We have to push at times like this.’

In the end, Director Kim Ryul got up from his seat with a dark look.

“I’m just going out for a smoke.”

*