Chapter 852: Answer (5)

“Mm....”

On the screen, an awkward face appeared.

A beautiful woman with delicate features, Director Deborah Kim, asked with a slightly stiff smile.

“Have you read the script?”

“Yes.”

I began with what needed to be said.

“I was honestly shocked when I read it. I didn’t expect it to be this good. Frank Chow is famous for being extremely meticulous about scripts, and if he agreed to participate the moment he saw it, that says everything.”

The script quality was high enough that a world-renowned musical producer had given it an immediate one-shot OK after reading it.

At my praise, the writers on the screen broke into bright smiles.

Someone said,

“This is the part where the ‘But’ comes in, right?”

“Yes. Unfortunately.”

The planning producer from Studio LM, sitting beside me, handed over a document.

It listed the issues that the production company and we had organized together.

“Separate from the script’s outstanding quality, the scenes with Korean dialogue feel unnatural overall.”

“...That’s exactly the issue we’ve been worrying about.”

Director Deborah Kim replied.

“After finishing the script, we realized the Korean scenes felt very unnatural. Most of our staff have lived in the United States their entire lives, so... writing about Korea was difficult.”

As soon as she finished speaking, the writers began talking one by one.

“We did a lot of research, but we kept getting stuck on the details. For example, what snacks students ate in Korea in the 1970s and 1980s. What neighborhoods felt like back then....”

“We asked our parents, but... even they say their memories are hazy now.”

“We don’t fully understand the Korean emotional nuance.”

Everyone here—both writers and directing staff—had been born in the United States.

Not like Director Han Giyeong, who had studied abroad and later obtained citizenship, but people who were born and raised in America from the beginning.

So no matter how much they said, “It’s a Seon Myeongju film, we have to do well!” there were inevitable limitations.

“Mm....”

But it wasn’t an unsolvable problem.

“For now, let’s resolve this by bringing in a Korean screenwriter. Someone who can make up for what you’re lacking. We can also recruit a separate staff member to help with historical authenticity.”

If we added Korean experts in those areas, the issue would be easily resolved.

Still, it wouldn’t be a fundamental solution.

Many of the key characters were Korean. If the production team lacked an understanding of Korean sensibilities, there would be difficulties on set.

From filming sitcoms, I had learned that an actor’s performance is greatly influenced by a director’s direction.

Most people have probably had this experience.

“Huh? That actor’s good—why are they like that in this movie?”

It’s rarely that their acting suddenly regressed. More often, the director’s direction simply went in the wrong direction.

Of course, Director Deborah Kim, as a Korean American producing a film related to Korea, already had a high level of understanding.

But she needed to deepen that understanding even further.

“I think it would be best if you come to Korea.”

“Oh?”

Director Deborah Kim and the staff brightened.

“We were thinking the same thing. We’d like to visit the Seon Myeongju Memorial Hall and conduct research ourselves.”

“We need to scout locations too.”

“And we have auditions coming up.”

The location manager and casting director eagerly chimed in, and the conversation quickly gained momentum.

Casting director John Deokgyu Choi spoke up.

“Oh, and the actor you mentioned last time, Wooju. Lee Gyeonwoo.”

“Ah. Yes.”

“What happened with him?”

“I brought it up to him.”

I avoided the curious gazes of the staff and said,

“But when I mentioned it, he ran away.”

“?”

“He’s... that kind of personality. His nickname is the ocean sunfish of the entertainment industry.”

“Ocean sun...fish?”

I explained the ocean sunfish to the Korean Americans.

“Anyway, he’s someone you have to approach delicately. If we’re not careful, it could fall through. I’m being as cautious as possible.”

“Is he really that valuable an actor?”

“In Korea, he’s top-tier in both visuals and acting.”

I widened my eyes.

“With an average face, there’s no way I’d let them play my father.”

“Agreed.”

“It has to be an extremely handsome actor. We need to show those fucking Hollywood guys the true beauty of Koreans....”

The staff’s eyes burned along with mine.

Remembering how the father role had almost gone to a Chinese or Black actor, I continued.

“There’s another reason I want to invite Lee Gyeonwoo. He’s one of Korea’s signature actors.”

“Ah.”

The casting director understood instantly.

“So once you cast the lead, supporting casting becomes easier? Like when you cast Alec West as the lead and actors line up to join?”

“Yes. Exactly.”

To be honest, our father film wasn’t a particularly attractive option in the Korean film industry right now.

A strange Hollywood movie filmed half in Korea and half in the United States.

A niche story about a Korean succeeding in America.

And on top of that, a film connected to Seon Myeongju, beloved by the entire nation, and to NewBlack with its massive fandom.

The last part was the decisive blow.

“So you’re saying we’d be playing Seon Myeongju? If we fail, we become the nation’s enemy...?”

A film that looked somewhat ambiguous yet carried enormous risk.

But if a famous actor like Lee Gyeonwoo joined as the lead, gathering other actors would become much easier.

It would feel like a kind of “verified success.”

It was one of the reasons drama productions tried to cast top stars as leads.

“Besides that, I genuinely think his image fits perfectly. He studied abroad, so his English is excellent.”

Handsome visuals.

Outstanding acting.

Near-native English skills.

The casting director nodded, then asked,

“But how do you plan to persuade him?”

“I’m going to send him the script.”

I smiled.

“There are parts we need to revise, but your draft is truly high quality. Jiho volunteered to take on a role the moment he read it. Once he sees it, I think he’ll change his mind.”

“Ha ha. Thank you for the compliment.”

The directing team laughed warmly as we ended the meeting on praise.

Afterward, I asked the planning producer to send the script securely.

And then.

Just as I had expected, before even half a day had passed, TJ Entertainment contacted us.

The actor’s side wanted to talk.

I cheered internally as I made the call.

“The customer is not available... After the beep...”

Why isn’t he answering?

At that moment, a message chimed in.

Lee Gyeonwoo: Please text me.

“....”

A top star complicated in every possible way.

“Hyung! Hyung!”

“Yeah?”

“Guess who I love the most in the world?”

“Who?”

The youngest made a tiny heart with his hands and said,

“It’s you ♡”

“....”

Goosebumps shot through my entire body.

As Ri Hyuk rubbed his arm, saying he had chills, I avoided the youngest’s gaze.

“Aing~”

“Stop clinging to me....”

“Aing~ It’s because I like Wooju hyung~”

“I already sent the proposal to Lee Gyeonwoo.”

The youngest made a face like it didn’t matter.

“It’s okay. I can just audition.”

“Jiho. Unfortunately, if you play our father, Korean audiences won’t be able to focus.”

If we appeared, it would feel like a clash of universes.

Imagine the audience focusing on Seon Myeongju’s past, and then Junghyun suddenly appears with a dramatic entrance.

Especially if the youngest played our father...

“Hehe! From now on, call me Dad. My son~”

It wasn’t that I was refusing because I absolutely didn’t want to hear something like that.

Of course Jiho knew that too.

He was just sulking like a child staring at a toy he couldn’t have.

Ri Hyuk snorted.

“If it were me, maybe. Wang Jiho, your face style doesn’t match Father.”

“Hmph.”

“You need sharp features like me. You’re too round.”

“My jawline is sharp too, okay? You’re just a triangle. A triangle head.”

“!”

As Junghyun clapped in delight at the “triangle head” joke, Biju looked at me and said, “Hyung, they’re at it again.”

I mediated the two youngest.

“All right. That’s enough. Compared to me, you’re both ugly anyway.”

“......!”

“......!”

Maybe it hit their preferences perfectly, because Biju burst out laughing, clutching his stomach.

While the emotionally wounded duo hurled insults, I operated the console in the recording studio.

Then I looked at the four women inside the recording booth.

“Yaaaaah!”

“Hyaah!”

The meat goddesses shouting battle cries as they warmed up their throats.

Watching the Scarlet members crack their necks made it feel less like a recording studio and more like an alleyway somewhere.

It felt like I should ask who they were going to beat up today.

“Wooju, we’re ready.”

At Ara’s voice adjusting her headphones, I played the track.

It’s not okay

It’s not okay

Part of the English lyrics of Scarlet’s song I had composed had been changed into Korean.

It was rearranged for the version Scarlet would perform in Pyongyang next month.

Team Leader Na Sangyoon, listening beside me, said,

“The song changed in a subtle way.”

“Yes. I rearranged it to be a bit softer to match the tastes of people in Pyongyang.”

I added electric guitar and saxophone sounds often used by the Moranbong Band and slightly altered a few lyrics.

Team Leader Na blinked.

“...How do you even know North Korean songs?”

“You can find them on MyTube.”

“...Right. At this point, I’m not even surprised.”

When we stopped recording and listened for a moment, the Scarlet members gave enthusiastic thumbs up.

“As expected of Wooju Ship. Stable and reliable.”

“No matter how you rearrange it, it’s steady. No fluctuation. You’re like perfectly marbled beef.”

“You’re the ribeye of our lives, oppa.”

It was praise pouring down in waves.

I pressed the talkback button.

“If you’re grateful, bring back Okryugwan naengmyeon.”

“We asked. They said takeout isn’t allowed.”

“...Then eat our share too.”

With the magnanimous expression of someone sending off warriors, we told them to go, and Scarlet grinned mischievously.

Ri Hyuk snorted.

“Well. I’m not jealous at all. You can eat it in Seoul too....”

“Exactly.”

“Not jealous at all.”

Even if I couldn’t go, my song was going to Pyongyang.

There was absolutely nothing to be jealous about.

Because...

CEO: Kids

CEO: I brought the Pyongyang naengmyeon you said you wanted!

CEO: I did well, right?

That’s right.

We had our CEO.

After eating Pyongyang naengmyeon for lunch, we headed to another meeting room.

We had started so many things that yet another meeting was waiting for us.

Today’s main guest was someone we had long been waiting for.

“Hello.”

A man whose beard made him resemble a bandit sat in front of a laptop.

It was Producer Gu Jaeyoung, the CP of Around the World by Dice, who had left TBC at the end of last month.

Compared to the last time I saw him...

“You look much healthier, Producer.”

“Much better, right? Everyone I meet says, Jaeyoung, you look healthier.”

“You really do look healthier.”

“Maybe it’s because I’ve been resting recently.”

It wasn’t just Producer Gu Jaeyoung. Others looked better too.

Producer Oh Taejun, who had previously co-directed with Jusehan, and the Jusehan writers all looked healthier.

“Hello. Long time no see.”

“Hi!”

“Have you been well?”

We had known each other since our rookie days, so greetings were warm.

They had been recruited to NBS along with Producer Gu Jaeyoung when he transferred.

“Producer Gu Jaeyoung joins Lemon Entertainment... What’s his annual salary?”

Apparently, when the power line at TBC sidelined Jusehan, they had all left together.

For us, it was something to be grateful for.

“Have you looked around the new building?”

“It’s amazing. Better than our office in Sangam. The office assigned to us is incredible....”

“I heard the CEO paid special attention. Said he’d give you the best spots.”

As soon as the topic of the new building ended, conversation shifted to variety shows.

Perhaps because we were all variety addicts.

“You guys hit it big with Honey Fishing this time. Episode five paid off everything you built up.”

“I heard it was the PD’s first solo debut. I’m so jealous.”

The Jusehan production team commented enthusiastically about episode five of Honey Fishing, which we had appeared on.

Producer Oh Taejun grinned crookedly.

“Wooju’s clip went viral as Old Man and the Sea.”

“....”

“Ha ha ha! That was hilarious.”

My image of catching a sailfish in a straw hat with a grandfatherly expression had already spread everywhere online.

Even now, every refresh brought ten new comments.

I averted my gaze.

“I don’t really know. I haven’t been looking at the internet much lately....”

“Ha ha ha!”

“Why not? You were so cute~”

From there, the conversation moved on to recent variety trends and hot new projects.

Unlike the neatly structured agenda of the TF team, this meeting flowed in all directions, yet somehow still functioned as a meeting.

“Good.”

Producer Gu Jaeyoung smiled.

“The moment Biju called me, I knew I had to accept. I wanted to try a new variety show, and I’ve always wanted to do a project with you.”

Producer Oh Taejun added,

“It’s honestly amazing. A combination of a star player and a star director... You don’t see that often.”

“That’s right.”

It felt surreal discussing work face to face with the PD who had created national-level variety shows.

Producer Gu Jaeyoung continued,

“As I discussed with the CEO when signing the contract, we have two goals. One is to produce a variety show starring you. The other is to grow the platform NBS where that show will air.”

“To talk about growing NBS first....”

The easiest way to grow a broadcasting platform is through variety or drama.

And among those, the easiest way to grow it quickly is—

“Music variety.”

“Music variety.”

We and the Jusehan team spoke at the same time.

We exchanged winks, pleased with the synergy.

Ri Hyuk spoke up.

“I’ve watched a lot of music variety shows, so I get it. It’s the easiest and most convenient way to attract attention.”

“Exactly. So regarding that....”

After discussing new variety ideas as major shareholders of Lemon Entertainment, we moved on to the most important matter—our own variety project.

“At first, we had a lot of ideas. We brainstormed quite a bit. But we decided to hear your thoughts first. Actually, more than that—we want to proceed based on your ideas.”

“Our ideas?”

“Yes.”

Producer Gu Jaeyoung said,

“Recently, variety trends emphasize ‘naturalness.’ That’s why observational shows are popular. Exaggerated or overly dramatic scenes from classic variety... aren’t as aligned with viewers’ tastes anymore.”

“The times have changed.”

“But we can’t blame the times. We have to adapt.”

Those who once ruled variety with absolute dominance smiled bitterly.

“Anyway, for this project with you, we want to focus on that naturalness. In other words....”

Producer Gu Jaeyoung turned his laptop around.

[Newniverse Project]

Whatever it is. Do whatever you want.

NewBlack plus Universe, or New Universe.

The simple slogan beneath the title sank straight into my mind.

Producer Gu Jaeyoung explained,

“Your specialty is that your natural daily lives already feel like variety. Even your conversations turn comedic.”

“...That’s true.”

It was sad because I couldn’t deny it.

“On the other hand, our specialty is turning those everyday moments into variety.”

“That’s right.”

Producer Gu Jaeyoung and the Jusehan team were known for making anything into variety.

Even with simple material, they could extract chemistry and humor.

“So we combine our strengths. You do what you want, and we turn it into variety.”

“What we want to do....”

“Anything.”

“Anything....”

We looked at each other.

“Each of us doing what we want....”

On stage, they were reliable beyond words.

But viewed through the lens of variety, they looked extremely unstable.

While we stared at each other like discarded waste, the Newniverse production team said,

“Tell us what you want to do. We’ll make it into variety.”

It sounded strangely like they were saying they would prove our value.

After a moment of thought, we began talking about what we wanted to do.

“I thought about it recently. During the Olympic joint rehearsals, the TNT members all drove themselves.”

“At that level of seniority, they usually do.”

“Seeing that made me a little jealous.”

“Because they have cars?”

“No. I don’t plan to buy one, but... driving just feels very adult.”

The adults laughed.

“So I’ve thought that if I ever have time, I’d like to get a license....”

“Getting a driver’s license?”

“Yes. Except for Junghyun, none of us have one.”

“Oh....”

We were told to say what we wanted, so we did.

But it felt oddly delicate.

Would something like this really work?

We asked the production team, who had immediately started taking notes.

“But can something like this really become variety?”

“Are you worried?”

“Mm....”

We nodded.

“We are. Who could possibly make getting a driver’s license funny?”

“It sounds hard to make entertaining....”

The production team stared at us blankly.

Then suddenly burst into laughter.

We blinked.

Why are they laughing?

We genuinely couldn’t understand.