Chapter 1037: I knew it (6)

Ever since I was young, whenever something happened to me, my first instinct was always to think of a countermeasure.

Back in elementary school, there was a kid who got jealous because I was friends with the girls in our class and started picking fights with me, saying I didn't even have parents.

There were also the trainee groups who subtly banded together and tried to isolate me.

The only place I could run to and complain was Grandma's arms.

And how could I possibly burden my precious Deoksun with every little problem that came my way?

Maybe that was why situations like this always made my mind race.

Build a solution as quickly as possible.

From that perspective, my brain was spinning at full speed now too.

—Marketing budgets are a luxury for you~ Hahaha~!

Problem identified.

The studio that had invested fifty billion won in our movie had announced that it could only provide five percent of the originally promised promotional budget.

Enough money for one or two screenings and a trailer upload on social media.

Q. How do we solve this?

The first things to appear in my head were the adorable little devils in charge of imagination.

Tiny devils spinning in circles while whispering into my ears.

—Hey! Who cares about Hollywood? You've got ten million soldiers behind you!

—Let's charge straight at them!

—Forget the contract! Ignore everything!

I ran the simulation.

A mountain of penalties.

My reputation in the American entertainment industry collapsing into a crater.

The image of me charging forward alone, dying gloriously, while the devils who had encouraged me stood behind me giggling.

"Oh my, apparently that wasn't allowed~ Teehee!"

The sweet fantasy lasted only a moment.

My thoughts immediately cooled.

—Their objective: Save money on marketing.

Naturally, that defined my objective.

—My objective: Force the studio to spend money on marketing.

No matter what it took, I had to make them invest more.

The reason was simple.

The production budget already spent on the film was a sunk cost.

The marketing budget wasn't.

The more money they invested in promotion, the more attention they'd be forced to pay to our movie.

They'd arrange additional promotional events.

Hang more posters.

Secure more screens.

Because they'd need to recover their investment.

What we'd heard today wasn't merely about marketing.

It was effectively a declaration that they intended to abandon the movie.

If they weren't willing to spend money promoting it, they were probably planning to toss it into a handful of American theaters and call it a day.

Q. Then how do we make the studio spend money?

Another way of asking the same question:

Why had the Hollywood studio slashed our marketing budget so drastically?

Several reasons came to mind.

The shallow assumption that NewBlack's fandom would promote the movie for free.

The calculation that the film would likely break even in Korea regardless, making marketing expenditure seem wasteful.

And most importantly—

The uncertainty surrounding its global box-office potential.

That was the key point.

Which meant—

—We need to demonstrate that it can appeal globally.

We needed proof that this wasn't merely a Korean domestic product.

We had to show that people around the world could connect with it.

So what was the strongest element of Sound of Sun?

The answer came instantly.

—The musical numbers.

The music.

The most powerful tool in existence for moving people's hearts in three and a half minutes.

We needed a song that would make people finish the video and immediately ask:

What movie is this from?

Then which song should it be?

That answer came just as quickly.

The soundtrack that had received the most praise during the screening.

The song I'd written myself.

Like The Sun.

A plan formed almost immediately.

—Release Like The Sun early and generate buzz.

Pre-releasing a major musical number was a tactic musical films occasionally used.

There were still two or three months before release.

Sure, releasing the movie's signature theme so early carried risks.

But at this point, the distributor had already informed us they had no intention of handling global marketing.

We had nothing left to lose.

After spending ten minutes running calculations in my head, I took another sip of sweet sujeonggwa and looked at Director Jo Gyuhwan, Seokhwan Hyung, and Director Kim Bora.

"I have a good idea."

After I explained the plan, everyone stroked their chins thoughtfully.

Director Jo responded first.

Interest flickered across the fox-like handsome man's face.

"Not bad. Considering they're refusing to provide a marketing budget, I can't think of a more appropriate promotion strategy."

Seokhwan Hyung adjusted his glasses.

"How are you planning to release the soundtrack? Just put out the audio?"

"No. We'll shoot a video."

"Then what about a rehearsal concept? The cast all gathered together, practicing the song."

Exactly.

Our TF team leader immediately began constructing possibilities in his head.

Director Kim Bora raised an objection.

"There's one problem."

"Hm?"

"A musical-number video by itself won't generate enough buzz. It'll definitely get attention in Korea, but I don't think people in other countries will necessarily watch it. Unless we get lucky."

She continued calmly.

"As unpleasant as it was, that studio executive wasn't entirely wrong. Whether it's the cast or the director, there's nothing that immediately draws the attention of audiences outside Korea."

"That's true."

"...That's what I'm saying. Wait, what?"

"You're right, Director."

Director Kim blinked.

I explained my thinking.

"I'm not planning to leave this to luck. I'm not just going to upload a song and hope people magically discover it."

"Then what?"

"We'll use every advantage we have. Shamelessly."

She looked curious.

"I'm going to sing Like The Sun myself."

"...!"

"The cast and I will perform it together."

"Then it'll work. Even if people don't recognize the actors, they'll recognize your face in the thumbnail."

Director Kim's expression immediately shifted to:

Wait... this might actually work.

Before long, plans for the MyTube campaign were being assembled.

The gloomy atmosphere that had hung over the galbi restaurant table disappeared.

Laughter returned.

"Honestly, I think the odds are about thirty percent."

Director Jo spoke.

"Whether this explodes or simply passes by quietly... and how the distributor reacts afterward... nobody knows."

"But it's a decent idea, right?"

"It's a good idea."

I held out my hand.

Director Jo smiled and returned the high-five.

Once the plan was established, I turned to Seokhwan Hyung.

"So now we tell the studio about it? They gave us authority over marketing."

"That's right."

"Then I'll contact—"

"Not yet."

"...?"

I blinked.

Director Kim Bora and Director Jo both smiled like villains.

Director Kim chuckled.

"They offered all kinds of concessions in exchange for cutting the marketing budget, remember? More production autonomy. Better profit-sharing terms."

"They did..."

"Think about it, Wooju. If your video succeeds and suddenly convinces them the movie can make money, what do you think happens?"

"..."

"All those concessions disappear."

"Ah..."

"But what if we finalize those favorable terms first... and then the video explodes?"

"...!!"

I stared at the grinning adults in admiration.

"So we get everything for free!"

"Exactly."

Seokhwan Hyung immediately contacted the TF team's staff.

Director Jo coordinated with Studio Lemon.

Director Kim began calling crew members regarding production logistics.

While they worked, I quietly admired the elegance of the strategy.

The perfect way to deal with Hollywood bandits.

Become bandits ourselves.

Incheon International Airport.

A large white man pulled a suitcase through the bustling departure terminal.

"Whew."

Dwight Goodman, a vice president at Silver Screen Pictures, wiped sweat from his forehead.

Is Korea always this hot?

It was his first visit.

He felt as though he'd traveled to Egypt.

Granted, he'd never actually been to Egypt either.

Still, a refreshed smile spread across his face.

That went well.

He had personally delivered the news regarding the reduction of Sound of Sun's marketing budget and had smoothed things over.

He'd done everything he reasonably could.

After all, he had traveled all the way to Korea instead of handling the matter through email.

Of course, NewBlack was the real reason.

"Wow."

Looking at NewBlack advertisements displayed throughout the airport, Dwight Goodman felt reassured that his decision had been correct.

Why else would NewBlack advertisements be all over an airport?

Because young tourists from China, Japan, and elsewhere saw them.

Because products sold when NewBlack endorsed them.

"NewBlack's popularity is incredible, isn't it, Rob?"

"Yes."

Robert Hwang, carrying luggage beside him, answered.

"It really is."

"My choice was absolutely correct. With popularity like this, Sound of Sun will be huge in Korea."

Several of Korea's top-grossing films had earned around one hundred million dollars.

Add Japan, Hong Kong, Taiwan, and other regions where NewBlack was popular—

Breaking even would be easy.

Asia alone could potentially generate two hundred million dollars.

Realistically, that should have justified spending marketing money in Asia.

But—

—NewBlack's fans will do the marketing for us. They're the group's most passionate supporters.

That had been Goodman's argument during the executive meeting.

—And Sunny. Do you really think he'll ignore a movie starring his own father?

—Oh?

—We simply need to leave it alone. Minimum marketing cost. Maximum efficiency.

Spend the least possible money.

Earn the highest possible profit.

The executives had loved it.

Under normal circumstances, they would've allocated a proper marketing budget.

But the company's finances were in crisis.

With multiple hundred-million-dollar projects demanding attention, nobody had time to worry about a comparatively tiny forty-eight-million-dollar film.

Especially when it looked capable of succeeding even with minimal promotion.

"The movie turned out quite well, too. Really fortunate."

"Indeed."

"You worked hard as well. Which department are you from again?"

"Accounting."

"Ah, that's right. Thought so. You accounting people are smart."

Goodman patted Robert's shoulder.

Then extended a hand.

"Time to board. Got your ticket?"

"Yes."

Goodman pulled out his business-class ticket from the stack and lifted his suitcase.

Then—

Bzzzz.

His phone vibrated.

While Robert silently flipped him three middle fingers in his imagination—

"What is it?"

"The negotiations with Studio Lemon regarding the revised terms have concluded."

"Excellent. Excellent."

"We reached several agreements regarding profit distribution. As for promotion..."

The new contract.

Reduced marketing budget in exchange for more favorable conditions elsewhere.

Goodman smiled in satisfaction.

I'm glad they accepted so quickly.

Apparently they understood they had no alternatives.

"And they'd like to upload a promotional video to MyTube through the Silver Screen Pictures Korea account."

"Haha! Even better."

"Should I approve it?"

"Of course."

They'd been given considerable freedom over promotion.

Apparently they'd realized the only viable strategy was leveraging their fanbase.

Goodman ended the call with a grin.

"Ah. What a beautiful day."

He'd gotten Wooju's autograph for his daughter.

His low-cost, high-profit strategy had succeeded.

Everything had gone perfectly.

[Attention please. This is the final call for United Airlines...]

As the boarding announcement for Los Angeles echoed through the terminal, Dwight Goodman hummed cheerfully and rolled his suitcase away.

Lemon Entertainment Conference Room.

The entire cast of Sound of Sun had gathered.

And Sun Wooju, one of the film's executive producers, explained the situation.

"...And that's why we're going to shoot a promotional video."

The film's central theme.

The song everyone had praised endlessly.

The plan was to reveal it to the public ahead of time.

Like The Sun.

Performed by its composer.

The son of the film's protagonist.

A superstar.

And an opportunity to hit the studio where it hurt.

"Oh, we're doing this."

"We're definitely doing this."

"What do we need to do, Wooju?"

Everyone's eyes burst into flames.

Truthfully, none of them had expected much from the international box office.

The movie was financed by American capital, directed by Americans, and staffed largely by Americans.

But the leads were Korean actors.

Sure, the setting shifted to America midway through.

Still—

The highest overseas box-office total ever achieved by a Korean-led film was around fifty million dollars.

No point getting our hopes up.

They weren't obsessed with international success.

They were simply angry.

—Who even knows your actors?

The blatant condescension was infuriating.

More importantly—

How dare they disrespect Sun Myungju!

The Heungseon Daewongun inside me has awakened!

People like that deserve to be beaten with a "Reject Foreign Influence" monument...!

The actors were furious because they felt Sun Myungju had been insulted.

After making this film, nobody understood the man better than they did.

A legendary figure who had broken through endless discrimination and obstacles in the 1990s to conquer the global market.

The only reason he wasn't more widely recognized was because his field had been jazz rather than mainstream pop.

To the cast, he was absolutely a superstar.

We're not letting this go.

As the actors clenched their fists—

Lee Gyeonwoo, who played Sun Myungju, cautiously raised a hand.

"I have a question."

"Yes, Senior."

"You composed Like The Sun, but you've never actually performed it publicly."

"That's true."

"If we're filming this video, you'll need some short-term vocal training. As someone who understands the music better than anyone, I'd like to help teach you."

Everyone's eyes widened.

That's right!

Well done!

Our lead actor!

The cast suddenly realized a rare opportunity had appeared.

A completely legitimate chance to make Sun Wooju work.

Then a smooth voice drifted through the room.

"I am like the sun—

Behold.

Your newly born sun."

Wooju sang a short phrase from atop the stage.

It needed a little polishing.

But the vocals were already astonishingly close to perfection.

"..."

"..."

Wooju grinned.

"For the record, I always sing every song I compose before anyone else."

"..."

"That way, when people tell me, 'This is impossible! I can't breathe while singing this!' I can confidently tell them they're wrong."

He was the composer.

His understanding of the song was one hundred percent.

As Lee Gyeonwoo quietly closed his mouth and everyone else looked awkward—

"Still, that was a good suggestion, Senior."

"...?"

"Hearing the word training gave me an idea."

A wicked smile appeared on Wooju's face.

"If we're filming a promotional video, shouldn't we showcase everyone's absolute best?"

"...?"

"In that case, I'll help all of you reach your maximum potential."

He snapped his fingers toward the door.

The door swung open.

The underlings poured inside.

"Ta-da!"

"FourBlack has arrived~!"

Wooju approached them with a satisfied smile.

"Underlings."

"Yes!"

"Help them achieve enlightenment."

"Yes, sir!"

The actors slowly closed their eyes.

Then Wooju called out:

"Senior Gyeonwoo."

"Y-Yeah...?"

"You already achieved enlightenment last time, so you're exempt. Come help me with the meeting."

"...!"

Lee Gyeonwoo's face instantly brightened.

As he happily followed Wooju out of the room, the remaining actors glared daggers at him.

Traitor.

Coward.

He escaped!

The lead actor had grabbed the rescue rope dangling from the spaceship and fled alone.

While the actors endured training under FourBlack—

The staff who had worked on Sound of Sun, including cinematographer Han Giyoung, were enjoying a period of rest.

What should I work on next?

Sipping herbal tea.

Stretching.

Flipping through scripts for future projects.

The top-tier Hollywood crew relaxed peacefully.

Then Director Kim Bora called.

"A promotional video?"

Han Giyoung looked annoyed.

"Korea has plenty of staff who can handle something like that. Why would I need to fly over for a simple promotional vid—"

Then he heard the rest.

"...What?"

The story of what the Hollywood studio had done.

The calm expressions vanished from the faces of the Korean staff.

The same word escaped all of them simultaneously.

"Sibal..."

Within moments, cinematographers and technical staff began packing their bags for Korea.

Korean blood was boiling once again.

—Let's show those bastards what happens.

For the second time, Hollywood's finest crew was gathering in one place.