CHAPTER 016: Transmedia Strategy
CHAPTER 016: Transmedia Strategy
For now, I’d save the trait and use it when the broadcast date got closer.
Today was filming day, so a black Carnival was already waiting in front of my place early in the morning.
When the door opened, Team Leader Jo Sehun greeted me with a bright smile.
“These are the people who’ll be responsible for your schedule starting today. Treat them comfortably.”
The man in the driver’s seat, built sturdy like a bear, hurried out of the car and bowed deeply.
“Hello! I’m Road Manager Jeong Daeyeop, and I’ll be serving you starting today! I look forward to working with you!”
His voice was so booming it echoed through the quiet alley.
When I got in, the two women in the backseat shrieked as if they’d been waiting.
“Kyaa!”
“Hellooo!”
Who were these high-tension people?
“I’m Stylist Minha! I became a huge fan after watching the Mate commercial!”
“I’m Heeju, makeup! You’re way more handsome in person—the camera can’t capture it all!”
“Ah, yes. Hello.”
Power-E types.
“Sunho, it’s a little draining, right?” Team Leader Jo Sehun said with a laugh.
How did he know?
“But their skills are solid. They used to handle Do Jihun. That styling-and-makeup that people said ‘ripped’ at the Baeksang Arts Awards? That was their work.”
“Ah, that’s impressive.”
As long as they were good at their jobs, I could handle this level of energy.
It was way better than people who were prickly and snappy.
We’d be seeing each other a lot from now on, so I should set the relationship clearly.
“Um…”
“Yes?”
“You can speak casually to me. We’re family now.”
I hated uncomfortable power dynamics.
That was what I’d hated most while working at an ad agency.
““…!””
They looked genuinely moved.
Was that the kind of thing worth reacting to?
“Seriously… compared to someone else, his character is on a whole different level.”
“I’ll work hard… no, I’ll give you my soul! Sunho-sunho!”
Team Leader Jo Sehun was watching with a pleased expression too.
What was with everyone?
“Sunho-sunho, your proportions are insane. Perfect to dress—do you have a style you want?”
“Not really.”
“Don’t worry! I’ll prep a bunch of styles! You’re handsome, you’ll pull off anything!”
“Sunho-sunho, kombucha to reduce puffiness! Drink it and your makeup will sit better later!”
“Thank you.”
“Your skin is seriously good! Do you do anything special for it?”
In the middle of the barrage of praise, Jeong Daeyeop kept glancing in the rearview mirror.
For some reason he looked restless, uneasy.
Was he the one who couldn’t handle this high tension?
“S-Sunho is so handsome and acts well and raps well and—”
“You don’t have to force compliments.”
“Yes…!”
It was going to take time to adjust.
We arrived on set.
Today was a day to act “Good Seoho.”
The production team had been considerate and front-loaded my scenes for the sake of emotional continuity.
I opened the system window.
【Acting Skill — Detailed Stats】
Emotional Expression: A
Line Delivery: B+
Physical Acting: C
Remaining Stat Points: 2
Now that filming had started, it was time to invest in “Physical Acting.”
At the script reading, we’d been sitting and only doing lines, so it hadn’t mattered.
But now I had to be ready for the camera.
Thanks to consistent practice, it had already risen to a C rank.
【Physical Acting: C → C+】
【Remaining Stat Points: 1】
【Physical Acting: C+ → B-】
【Remaining Stat Points: 0】
B-.
Low compared to the other stats, but it was fine.
“Good Seoho” only had to show himself training hard physically.
Those scenes could be covered well enough with the “Runner’s High” trait.
After the burn, emotional expression would be the focus, so it would be mostly bust shots rather than full-body.
As long as it wasn’t distractingly bad, it was enough.
“Alright, Ryu Sunho, going in!”
A scene where I trained as a volunteer firefighter rather than an official firefighter.
I was wearing heavy turnout gear, holding a hose, and running.
“Ready, action!”
I started running on the director’s cue.
【Trait: Runner’s High activates!】
My body felt light, like it could fly.
Sweat poured down like rain, but my expression held duty and freshness instead of pain.
“…Cut! Okay!”
Director Chae Wongi’s admiring voice came through.
“Damn, that expression is no joke.”
The directing staff around him responded too.
“Sunho looks the most handsome when he’s sweating.”
“Like he’s literally human Mate? The refreshing image itself—who would ever suspect him as a villain if you only saw this?”
“Exactly. The casting hit dead center.”
Then Park Juwon arrived.
But his expression wasn’t good.
He looked sunk in deep thoughts.
Did something happen?
“Yesterday… someone died.”
“What do you mean? Who?”
Director Chae Wongi startled.
Team Leader Jo Sehun also looked like this was the first he’d heard.
An actor’s mental state could heavily affect acting.
A sense of crisis swept over them, like filming might get halted—
“That someone is the weak ‘me’ up until yesterday… the weak me is dead, and starting today I’m reborn as a new Park Juwon… I’ll show you the changed acting of a genius who works hard!”
“Ah—Juwon, do you want to get hit?”
Jo Sehun lifted his fist slightly, then lowered it.
Director Chae Wongi let out a dry laugh.
“You scared the hell out of me! I thought we’d have to shut down filming. Stop talking nonsense and go change first.”
“Haha, I’ll be right back.”
Was he insane?
My illusion about actors was crumbling more and more.
Seo Yoonha too, Park Juwon too.
Did you have to be half-crazy to act well?
‘But.’
Maybe it wasn’t entirely nonsense.
When I checked his stats, they’d subtly changed.
‘His emotional expression went up?’
When I’d seen him at the script reading, it had been B+.
Now it was up a step—A-.
What happened in between?
It had taken me over a month just to go from C- to C.
The set became busy again.
The lighting team adjusted while changing angles.
Staff radios crackled one after another.
A “Check complete!” shout that rang in the ears signaled final prep.
“Mic test done!”
“Actor sound rehearsal, no issues!”
The assistant director prepared the cue over the walkie.
Director Chae Wongi waved his finger in front of the monitor.
The cinematographer beside him said,
“Light’s good, roll is running. A-cam, roll!”
“B-cam, roll!”
Footsteps stopped around us.
A stillness as if even the air had halted.
Everyone’s gaze locked onto us.
Then—
“Stand by! Cue!”
Fire station courtyard.
After training, I sat on a bench catching my breath.
Detective Han Jaeyoon—Park Juwon—approached.
I took a cold water bottle from the cooler beside the bench and handed it to him.
“Would you like some water? It’s really hot today, isn’t it?”
“Firefighter?”
“No. I’m still preparing for the firefighter exam. I came as a volunteer today.”
“Why do something this hard?”
“Because someone I respect is always standing in front of fire.”
Up to here, it went almost the same as the script reading.
Similar emotional density, similar delivery.
But then—
“…Fire’s dangerous. Dioxins are bad for your body too.”
Detective Han Jaeyoon’s eyes wavered, just slightly.
His tone was still indifferent, his face barely changed.
But the silence that brushed past the end of that line carried a ripple you couldn’t explain.
At the script reading, it had felt like a flat informational line.
But the eyes facing me now were different.
It wasn’t just a warning.
There was deep regret soaked into it.
“What you need to be careful of isn’t fire, but the attitude that takes it lightly.”
A collision between pure ideals and cynical reality.
Detective Han Jaeyoon stood without replying for a while.
Cigarette smoke drifted slowly up along the side of his face.
“…I hate lightness.”
The words were short, but something old and jagged was lodged inside them.
That day that still jolted him awake in dreams.
—Sunbae, there’s a suspicious warehouse near the site.
—Ignore it and follow procedure. Nothing’s confirmed yet.
—Don’t worry. I’ll just check lightly and come right back.
The junior had been smiling brightly.
Like the young man in front of him now.
And he never came back.
No witness, no CCTV.
The case vanished into records, and all that remained was his badge.
Instinct, goodwill, zeal.
How that “lightness” could take a life.
He’d learned it with his body.
He ground out the cigarette and spoke briefly.
“Whatever it is. Watch yourself.”
The voice was calm, but something unnameable clung to it.
After a suffocating silence, the director’s cut came a beat late.
“…Cut! Wow…”
From the monitor, Director Chae Wongi murmured an exhale of admiration.
He sank deep into the chairback, nodding with a satisfied smile.
“These two have good chemistry.”
“Look at that contrast. Sunho’s clear eyes slamming right into Juwon’s world-weary, cynical eyes—man, I barely stopped myself from making a sound.”
“It’s way deeper than the script reading. It’s not just ‘a good kid and a prickly detective’—it feels like two different worlds colliding. It feels alive.”
The cinematographer lowered the camera off his shoulder and let out the breath he’d been holding.
“I couldn’t breathe shooting their close-ups. Especially when Park Juwon said ‘I hate lightness,’ that micro-change in his expression—got it all. Perfect.”
“And Ryu Sunho’s eyes—weren’t they amazing? Clear, but strong. It felt like I was getting pulled in.”
In the staff’s buzz, Director Chae Wongi shouted with a satisfied face.
“Okay! Let’s do this scene one more time! Both of you were so good! Take a short break, then we continue!”
During the break, Park Juwon came over.
“You’re good. As expected.”
“Haha, thanks. Maybe it’s because I match well with you, hyung.”
“Of course. This is my normal. That was just a taste back then.”
Perfect timing.
I had a favor to ask.
It was time to start prepping drama promo.
“Hyung, teach me how to take selfies too.”
“Selfies? You don’t do SNS.”
“I’m starting now.”
Flash Entertainment’s PR/Marketing Team office.
Team Leader Lee Seokjun let out a dry laugh as he looked over the papers he’d received from Team Leader Jo Sehun.
‘The right to consult in advance on publicity and marketing activities…?’
When he’d first heard about it, it had been absurd.
What kind of rookie puts a pointless condition like that into a contract?
Lee Seokjun shoved aside the papers cluttering his desk.
‘He’s just over-motivated. He’s just started walking the actor’s road—he probably wants to try everything.’
He remembered that there was a meeting scheduled with that rookie actor this afternoon.
He planned to listen with a generous air, then send him off with something like, Good experience.
Soon after, the meeting room door opened and Ryu Sunho walked in.
“Hello, Team Leader. I’m Ryu Sunho.”
“Ah, yes. Welcome, Sunho. I heard. That you have a really good idea for drama promotion.”
Lee Seokjun deliberately set the stage.
It was unspoken pressure: Say your ridiculous idea and get cleanly rejected.
But Ryu Sunho, not flustered in the slightest, calmly laid it out.
“…!”
Lee Seokjun forced his stiffening expression back under control.
This wasn’t just rookie over-enthusiasm.
‘…A transmedia strategy?’
A storytelling strategy that delivers one story across multiple platforms and formats.
A high-level strategy you’d only see attempted at big corporate ad agencies—being proposed by a rookie who’d just debuted.
A clear objective, and clever ideas.
Lee Seokjun could only nod with a dumbfounded face.
After the meeting ended, Team Leader Lee Seokjun immediately summoned his team into the conference room.
“Alright, everyone, look at this. It’s a PR strategy idea.”
As he explained the outline, the team members—who’d started indifferent—began lighting up one by one.
“Team Leader, this is… insane. It’s totally immersive content!”
“If viewers form an emotional bond, it turns into loyalty, and that links directly into the drama…”
“And it’s good for secondary spread too. If posts get carried into communities, the viral effect will be huge.”
As if struck by something, one team member couldn’t hide their excitement and clapped.
“And on top of that! When the twist gets revealed later—wow, that shock will carry straight into SNS. Then a second viral wave hits, and it pumps audience inflow into the drama. This is a god move!”
“And it barely costs any promo budget! This is crazy, crazy! As expected, Team Leader! To come up with an idea like this!”
The youngest looked at him with eyes full of admiration.
Lee Seokjun gave a bitter smile and shook his head.
“No…”
“Yes? What?”
“This wasn’t my idea.”
“Then whose?”
The team members looked at each other.
Lee Seokjun spoke quietly.
“Sunho proposed it. The new rookie actor who just joined.”
“…What? Seriously?”
A few days later, a post like this appeared on a community site.
[RYU SUNHO FINALLY STARTED INSTAGRAM!!!]
[But did he typo his ID when he made itㅋㅋㅋㅋ it says Seoho not Sunhoㅋㅋㅋㅋ]