An Elegant and Certain Revenge
Sangam-dong, Mapo-gu, Seoul.
The fifteenth floor of the CK Entertainment building. The office of the Film Division Head.
"What? They refused?"
Director Oh's brow furrowed. As if he could not believe the report he had just heard, he set his Montblanc fountain pen down on the desk with a sharp click.
"Was the money not enough?"
In front of him, the film planning team leader stood sweating profusely.
"N-no, sir. About the money… they said the amount was more than satisfactory."
"Then what's the problem? It's two billion won. Two billion. Pouring that kind of money into some web novel original is a first in CK history. And they kicked it to the curb?"
Director Oh's voice rose.
CK Entertainment—the absolute powerhouse among Korean film distributors. In Chungmuro, their name was law and power. They had churned out ten-million-viewer hits by the handful, and they had been the ones to extend a hand first. For someone to dare refuse them was something his pride simply could not tolerate.
"What reason did they give?"
"Well… it's the terms, apparently."
The team leader watched his face carefully as he continued.
"They're demanding a guarantee of creative control. They want a clause stating that no screenplay adaptation or casting can proceed without the original author's consent…"
"Ha."
Director Oh let out a hollow laugh, as if the sheer absurdity of it left him speechless.
"Writer's disease, full-blown. Gets a taste of money and suddenly thinks he's somebody?"
He leaned back in his chair, sprawling at an angle.
"Hey, Team Leader Kim. Is filmmaking a joke to them? Directing and adaptation are a director's exclusive rights—who the hell does he think he is, trying to call the shots? We give him the money, he sits quiet and writes. That's it."
"That's true, but… he's completely unyielding. Says he can't stand the work being ruined."
"Ruined? Is he saying we're going to wreck it? Insolent little—"
Director Oh's eyes went ice-cold.
This was not a simple failed contract. This was a challenge to Chungmuro's authority itself.
Some random web novel writer trying to meddle in a conglomerate's offer, trying to lecture them?
If they set this precedent, every original creator from now on would start demanding rights left and right.
He would not stand for that.
"We need to teach him a lesson."
Director Oh pressed the intercom.
"Tell the PR team leader to come in."
A moment later, the PR team leader hurried through the door.
"You called for me, Director?"
"Start feeding the reporters sources. Right now."
Director Oh smiled thinly as he gave the order.
"The keyword is power-tripping."
"Power-tripping, sir?"
"That's right. Say a famous web novel author made unreasonable demands right before a film adaptation deal. That he tried to interfere with lead casting, tried to rewrite the screenplay to his own taste, and the contract fell apart because of it."
Subtly twisting the facts. That was the core of media play.
Turn a demand to protect the work into a power trip meant to flaunt his own authority.
"And circulate some tabloid tips while you're at it. Spread it around that the guy's notoriously money-hungry. That he snorted at two billion and demanded even more."
"Ah… understood. We'll handle it thoroughly."
"Bury him in the industry. When someone gets cocky, you cut the sprout off at the root so he can't even crawl somewhere else."
Director Oh looked down through the window and muttered to himself.
The price of daring to refuse CK.
He intended to make sure the man felt, down to his bones, just how brutal that price could be.
At the same time.
My private workspace.
Clack-clack, tap.
Only the cheerful sound of the keyboard filled the quiet room.
"Good. That should do it."
I stretched and checked the monitor.
Today's manuscript was safely finished.
With Author Han Se-jin's new work Sword Demon landing successfully, the atmosphere at Studio Nangan was pure celebration. I had caught the same wave of motivation, and the words had been flowing better than usual.
CK's been quiet.
The film adaptation offer I had turned down a few days earlier drifted into my mind.
No contact since then—looked like they had given up.
Smart choice. Two billion hurts to walk away from, but better than watching my child get sold off in some twisted form.
I decided to shake it off cleanly. I was already making plenty from the web novel and webtoon anyway.
"Maybe I'll grab some coffee."
I was just rising from my chair, heading for the break room, when—
Bzzzzz—! Bzzzzz—!
The phone on my desk started thrashing violently.
The screen showed my brother.
"Minjun! Did you see the articles?"
His voice was urgent. The usual composure was gone; pure panic came through loud and clear.
"Articles? What articles?"
"Just open the internet. They're on the portal main page right now!"
I hurried back into my seat and opened a browser window.
And then.
"…Ha."
A short sigh escaped me.
Entertainment and culture ranking news.
My pen name and the title of my work were plastered all over it.
Just the headlines were enough to spike my blood pressure.
Clicking through and reading the actual content made it even more outrageous.
—He attempted to infringe on the production company's exclusive rights over directing and casting.
—Drunk on a hunger for fame rather than money, he made one unreasonable demand after another.
—An industry insider remarked that it was bitter to see a rookie author already tasting power.
The facts had been carefully obscured; only the malicious framing remained.
I scrolled down to the comment section.
As expected, it was chaos.
A flood of hate comments.
People who had been calling me PureWater and KingWater just yesterday had flipped in an instant over a few lines of an article and were tearing into me.
Of course those two groups were probably different people, but the comments currently visible were packed with condemnation, so I could not help feeling wronged.
"Huu…"
I scrubbed my face dry with both hands.
It was less anger than a bitter taste.
So this was the power of a conglomerate.
If you did not suit their tastes, using the press to turn someone into a laughingstock was nothing to them.
"Minjun, are you looking at it?"
My brother's worried voice came through the phone.
"Yeah. I'm looking."
"We can't just sit on this. Those CK bastards are running a full media campaign on purpose. Let's put out a rebuttal. Say it's baseless, that we're suing for defamation!"
He was worked up.
Of course he was—he knew better than anyone how much I cherished the work.
That was when it happened.
"One moment, sir. Author."
With the video conference notification chime, Representative Kang Suk-woo barged into the call.
Unlike my brother, his voice was calm. There was even a faintly buoyant edge to it.
"Representative Kang. Did you see the articles?"
"Yes, I saw them. Quite the uproar."
"My brother wants to sue right now. What do you think, Representative?"
I asked with deliberate composure.
Honestly, I felt wronged too. Part of me wanted to flip the whole table.
But Kang Suk-woo's answer was unexpected.
"Sue? Is there really any need?"
"Excuse me?"
"I just got a call from the Sirius division head. Along with some words of concern, he sent over some data."
Kang Suk-woo switched on screen sharing.
Complicated graphs and tables filled the monitor.
"Take a look at this."
"What… is this?"
"Today's real-time traffic data."
I studied the graph carefully.
Two in the afternoon—the moment the articles dropped.
From that point, the graph shot straight up.
The red line was climbing as if it meant to punch through the ceiling.
"After the articles hit, search volume for The Regressed Hunter Is Merciless jumped to more than five times the usual. It hit number one on real-time search."
"Those are just people coming in to trash it, aren't they?"
"Exactly. At first they came to trash it, sure. 'What kind of work makes an author act that high and mighty? Let's see how great it really is'—that kind of psychology."
Representative Kang flipped to the next page.
"But this part is interesting."
My eyes went wide.
"Forty-five percent?"
"Yes. They came to trash it, read chapter one, read chapter two… and by the time they came to their senses, they had already paid for the premium chapters."
Representative Kang laughed heartily.
"Look at the comments. Plenty of hate, but there are quite a few reactions like these too."
He shared the captured screens.
Public opinion was splitting in subtle ways.
From blanket condemnation toward a reaction of "you can't trash the work itself."
And that curiosity was converting straight into sales.
"Today's revenue alone is already one-point-five times the usual. Looks like we're going to set an all-time high."
My brother stared blankly at the screen, then let out a hollow laugh.
"Ha… what even is this…"
"Textbook noise marketing. Thanks to those CK bastards spending their own money on reporters and tabloid tips, even muggles who never read web novels are flooding in."
Representative Kang's eyes gleamed.
"Sir, Author. There's no need for us to step out and explain or fight. If we react, they'll just get more excited and keep tearing into us."
"Then…"
"Just enjoy it. This situation."
Representative Kang spoke with absolute conviction.
"Readers are cold-blooded in the end. They can rant about an author's character and power-tripping all they want—if it's fun, they read. The data is proving that right now."
I leaned deep into the back of my chair.
A quiet snort of laughter slipped out.
It was ironic.
The stone they had thrown to kill me had come back as a golden egg instead.
"You're right."
I nodded.
"No need to go poking a sleeping bear. Maybe we should send CK a thank-you note."
"Hahaha! Exactly. Free advertising budget, courtesy of them."
Only then did my brother let out a long breath of relief.
"Whew… thank god. I was worried your mental state was going to snap."
"I was just a little upset, that's all."
I grinned and looked at the manuscript on the monitor.
Hate comments were still pouring into the comment section in real time.
But between them, positive ones were mixed in too—It was so good I paid, Drop the next chapter.
And the view counts and revenue were swelling in real time.
Numbers do not lie.
No matter how much CK tried to work the press and manufacture public opinion, they could not manufacture the essential thing readers felt: fun.
"Representative Kang."
"Yes, Author?"
"Let's leave it. Let them bark."
I took hold of the mouse.
"We'll just keep scooping up the money."
"An excellent choice."
The call ended.
I switched back into work mode.
No matter how loudly the world shouted, what I had to do did not change.
Write something more entertaining.
And turn even the antis who came to trash me into fans of my writing.
That was the most elegant and certain revenge I could take.
Clack, clack.
The sound of the keyboard rose again.
Imagining the twisted face of CK's division head, I cheerfully wrote the next sentence.