CHAPTER 051: Crank-Up
CHAPTER 051: Crank-Up
“Ugh… my head.”
Clutching my spinning head, I barely managed to open my eyes.
Last night, I drank way too much.
I definitely meant to drink in moderation.
But the robot inside me… no, my black history kept resurfacing, and I lost my grip on reason.
First, I went to the fridge and gulped down water.
Only when the cold stream slid down my throat did it feel like my mind was coming back.
I picked up my phone and checked the internet first.
‘The reaction… is fine.’
I looked through articles and community reactions about yesterday’s Acting Awards, and it was pretty positive.
Hardly anyone disputed the triple crown result; the mood was that everyone acknowledged it.
I also worried I’d get cursed out for “stealing” the Best Couple award from the lead couple, but everyone was warmly congratulating it as a touching moment that transcended generations.
‘Okay. That’s settled. Then that video…’
The black-history video I was most worried about.
I was scared to open the comments, but I still had to monitor.
I endured it and checked—and the reaction was unexpected…?
People teased it as an “execution,” but they were also viewing it fondly, like it was cute.
Compared to my intense villain acting, it was such a contrast that my general favorability seemed to rise even more.
‘Then that’s fine. The villain coloration fades, and it’s actually better.’
I let out a sigh of relief and checked my messages next.
A lot of people had sent me KakaoTalk messages, but judging by how many ended with “ㅋㅋㅋ,” it was obviously them mocking my black history.
I brushed those off and only read the ones from my family.
[Mom: My son^^ Congrats on your award^^ I hope your life is filled with only happy things, just like now···]
[Dad: I was on TV too—so aren’t you paying me an appearance fee? I heard reruns pay appearance fees too···]
[Younger sibling: Oppa, teacher says to ask you how to do the robot dance. Come to school next time and give a lecture]
Mm…
I think I’ll only reply to Mom.
When I closed my phone, the familiar system window appeared.
【Goal Achieved: Reached Recognition 40!】
【Reward Granted: Stat Points +1】
When I checked, my Recognition had already jumped quickly to 43.
Maybe because the Acting Awards had viewers across a wide age range, even middle-aged and older viewers learned my face.
Favorability rose a bit, and Influence ticked up slightly.
【Influence】
【Recognition: 43/100】
【Favorability: 37/100】
【Impact: 13/100】
‘The gap between Recognition and Favorability narrowed.’
That’s a good sign.
It means most people who know me feel favorably toward me.
While I was satisfied with the nice-looking influence indicators, new notifications popped up one after another.
【Hidden Mission Cleared!】
【Winning an award at a prestigious ceremony】
【Reward: Stat Points +1 (※Repeat clears possible)】
【MBS Acting Awards Best Couple Award Won!】
【Reward granted: Stat Points +1】
【MBS Acting Awards Rookie Award Won!】
【Reward granted: Stat Points +1】
【MBS Acting Awards Scene Stealer Award Won!】
【Reward granted: Stat Points +1】
In an instant, three more stat points piled up.
I’d been hoping a new mission would pop up during the ceremony, and I was slightly disappointed when nothing appeared.
Looks like it had been set as a hidden mission.
Then if I add the existing 2, the 1 from the Recognition reward, and the hidden mission rewards…
‘Six stat points total?’
I suddenly became rich.
With this much, I could raise not only Looks but other stats to A+ too.
‘Oh—wait.’
Come to think of it, I still have one more awards ceremony left.
The Korea Advertising Awards next week.
According to Mate’s marketing team lead, the Mate Heroes Campaign made it to the final shortlist in the PR category.
No way…
Does winning at the Korea Advertising Awards count too?
The Korea Advertising Awards.
About 700 advertising-related people—ad agencies, production companies, advertisers, government departments—filled the venue with lively energy.
Everyone was busy celebrating the year’s results and networking.
But among them, one unfamiliar face especially drew attention.
“Isn’t that actor Ryu Sunho?”
“Huh? It is. What’s going on? Why is an actor at the Advertising Awards?”
“He’s the model for Mate drinks—did he come to cheer them on?”
“Come on. What actor comes to cheer? He’s not a relative of the advertiser.”
“Then is he an MC?”
“Has a celebrity ever come and MC’d here? This isn’t a broadcast-station awards show.”
Amid the murmurs, an ad planner who seemed to know something spoke up.
“I heard the Mate Heroes Campaign that’s nominated in PR—that idea was Ryu Sunho’s. His name’s listed as a special contributor.”
“What? Really?”
“An actor came up with the idea?”
“And that got nominated for an award? That makes no sense…”
“Well, if it’s possible, that’s why he’s here. Not sure if it’s 100% true, though.”
People stared at Ryu Sunho with shocked faces.
Meanwhile, a few quick-moving advertisers approached him first to exchange business cards, trying to get acquainted in advance.
Around then—
Director Chaewonki arrived at the venue, looking tense.
It was his first time back in almost five years.
After switching to drama directing, he never thought he’d come again.
‘To think this kind of opportunity would come…’
It felt new.
He’d worked as a commercial director for ten years, but awards never came his way.
Then he met Ryu Sunho on a commercial shoot he took as a substitute for his close friend Director Yoo Gwangjung.
Thanks to that kid, he tried the one-take technique again—something he’d been ready to give up on—and made it all the way here.
‘Seriously, you never know how life will go. I met Ryu Sunho there, and we even shot a drama together. And it became a hit.’
Maybe if Ryu Sunho hadn’t taken the role of Kang Seoho, it might not have succeeded this much.
Feeling grateful to Ryu Sunho in many ways, Director Chaewonki suddenly doubted his eyes.
Because the face he’d just been thinking about was right in front of him.
‘Huh? Am I seeing things?’
Even after rubbing his eyes with his thick hand, Ryu Sunho didn’t disappear.
He even waved cheerfully and walked over when their eyes met.
‘Why is that kid here…?’
“Why did Actor Ryu come here?”
At Director Chaewonki’s bewildered question, I smiled and answered.
“I’m nominated too.”
“Nominated for what? I heard they got rid of the Best Ad Model award.”
“I’m nominated in PR. The campaign ran off the idea I proposed, so I was included in the producer list as a special contributor.”
“What? Seriously?”
Director Chaewonki looked genuinely shocked.
“No, I did think your ideas weren’t ordinary when you were promoting the drama on Instagram, but… you really had talent in advertising?”
Then, admiringly, he patted my back.
“At this rate, you’ll become the one and only actor who attends both Cannes Film Festival and Cannes Lions later, huh?”
Oh?
Now that I hear it, that could be a pretty good picture too.
Isn’t that a special story no matter who hears it?
If I won awards at both, I’d be on the front page.
Thinking that, I chatted with Director Chaewonki, then met up with Mate’s marketing team and joined them.
“Hello, Team Lead.”
“Nice to see you, Sunho!”
Then the ceremony began.
“We will now begin the 32nd Korea Advertising Awards.”
It opened with a welcome address from the President of the Korea Advertising Federation,
followed by congratulatory remarks from the Chair of the Korea Communications Commission.
Then the real awards started.
They began with the TV short-form video category.
Bronze, silver, gold—names were called in order and the winners went up on stage.
Finally, the moment the grand prize in the TV short-form video category was announced.
“The TV short-form video category… Grand Prize goes to Mate Drinks’ My Direction, My Wind!”
“……!”
“Waaaah!”
People from the production company, advertiser, and ad agency all rushed on stage, hugging each other in joy.
Unlike the Acting Awards, at the Advertising Awards, everyone involved in production goes on stage together to receive the award.
“It’s the grand prize! The grand prize!”
“To think the day would come when we win the grand prize!”
“Ah, Director, you worked so hard!”
“It’s thanks to the strong planning.”
“And above all, isn’t it thanks to the advertiser approving things well!”
“Hahahaha! We all worked hard together!”
Cheers and laughter blossomed.
Watching that pure explosion of joy, my chest suddenly swelled.
Making ads is practically a battlefield.
When people gather to create one product, opinions collide constantly, and waves of burden and exhaustion crash over you.
But the moment you release the result into the world and that effort is recognized, all hardship melts away.
Resentment toward each other turns into hot camaraderie, and sharing joy together makes you tighter.
‘…Is that why the team wanted so badly to bring me to an awards ceremony?’
In my past life, whenever I skipped ceremonies, my teammates always expressed regret.
I brushed it off as polite talk.
But seeing this, I understand.
That moment—laughing together, encouraging each other, raising a toast—is the real reward that makes a team one.
Because of my trauma from the burn scars, I avoided crowded places, and memories of my past self—missing those moments—brought a bitter, apologetic feeling.
‘Still, I’m experiencing it indirectly like this.’
A feeling I might never have known.
Even if I can’t go up with them this time since I’m here as the model, not a producer—let’s be satisfied with applauding hard from afar.
But then, the ad planner on stage looked at me and suddenly walked straight over.
“Sunho, you can’t be missing when you contributed so much.”
“I only acted in this ad.”
An actor is only the face of an ad—the real protagonists are the people who stayed up all night crafting ideas and sweated on set, aren’t they?
But the planner didn’t let go of my arm.
“If it weren’t for you, there wouldn’t have been a one-take ad, and we wouldn’t have won the grand prize. The team’s waiting. Come up with us.”
“……”
Team.
Hesitating, I started moving at that one word.
When I stepped on stage, Director Chaewonki tapped my shoulder with proud eyes.
“Why are you so late?”
Mate’s advertiser smiled and gave me a thumbs-up.
The planner placed me at the very center.
“Alright, we’ll take a photo. One, two!”
As dozens of flashes popped, I looked out at the audience.
Faces of ad people I might’ve brushed past countless times in my past life.
I’d only avoided places of shared joy out of a sense of victimhood—yet now, I was finally looking at them, mixing in with them.
‘So… this is what happiness was like.’
A lump rose in my throat, but—
an ad model crying here would probably be the strangest thing.
I held it in.
I pinched my thigh and barely endured, then came down.
Even after coming down, people couldn’t contain their joy.
And in the middle of it, Director Chaewonki was secretly blinking back tears.
“…Director, are you crying?”
“As you get older, you get more sentimental… keep it a secret from the others.”
He was the kind of person who looked like he wouldn’t shed a tear even if you pricked him with a needle.
Unexpected.
There hadn’t been tears at the Acting Awards either, had there…?
Anyway.
While Director Chaewonki wiped his tears, the PR category awards began next.
Honestly, I didn’t expect much.
We’d already won a big prize in the TV video category.
And for this campaign, I only provided the idea—I didn’t execute the campaign myself.
Being nominated was enough, and just coming to the ceremony was plenty.
But—
“The PR category… Silver Award! Mate Heroes Campaign!”
Again, the name “Mate” was called.
Maybe because I’d poured out my emotions earlier on stage, I didn’t get flooded with emotion now.
Instead, I had this thought.
‘Does the talisman Seo Yunha gave me actually work…?’
To think my award luck would explode like this.
And at the same time, a new notification appeared.
【Hidden Mission Cleared!】
【Winning an award at a prestigious ceremony】
【Reward: Stat Points +1 (※Repeat clears possible)】
【Korea Advertising Awards PR Category Silver Award Won!】
【Reward granted: Stat Points +1】
News that Ryu Sunho won two awards at the Korea Advertising Awards set the industry on fire.
The award as an ad model wasn’t especially unusual, but the other one was an award he received with his name listed as a producer—as a “special contributor” to an ad campaign.
JTBN entertainment reporters each added a comment about this unprecedented incident.
“Winning the grand prize for the Mate ad, sure. The ad itself looked great and it was really well made. But a PR silver award—isn’t that insane?”
“Right. I’ve seen actors win awards as ad models plenty of times, but this is my first time seeing someone win while listed on the producer roster.”
Everyone nodded at that reporter’s words.
Because it meant Ryu Sunho wasn’t just a “pretty face,” but also played the role of the “brain” that led a brand to success.
Listening silently to it all, a smile bloomed at Reporter Seo Jiyeon’s lips.
‘He’s a truly unique character. I can’t even gauge what his limit is. He keeps showing something new—how far does he plan to climb?’
Seo Jiyeon imagined Ryu Sunho’s next move.
After sweeping both drama and advertising, his next stage was film.
She brought in a new piece of news.
“I heard the on-set response for his next film, Vacuum State, isn’t ordinary either. And come to think of it, I also heard today is their final day of filming.”
“Oh, really? That’s pretty fast.”
“That probably means the shoot’s going smoothly.”
Just as Seo Jiyeon said, the set of Vacuum State was filled with excitement and tension, since it was the last day.
The final scene containing the movie’s ultimate twist.
Inside the chroma-key studio for special effects, all staff held their breath and stared at the monitors.
On Director Ji Seongwoo’s pale face, the camera’s red recording light flickered.
The camera slowly pushed into the face of Jeong Dokyun collapsed on the floor.
Ryu Sunho, acting as Jeong Dokyun, stared blankly into the air with empty eyes, every emotion burned out, and delivered the last line.
When that whisper filled the set, a heavy silence fell—
and at last, Director Ji Seongwoo shouted in a trembling voice.
“O… okay! Cut!! That’s a wrap!”
His voice was the starting gun.
Cheers and applause exploded throughout the set.
“Hooah!”
“Wow, everyone seriously worked so hard!”
“Director, actors, staff—everyone worked hard!”
“Now let’s go home!”
And so the long shoot for Vacuum State came to an end.
But for Director Ji Seongwoo, the real beginning was from this point on.
He moved all his household essentials into the editing room and threw himself into editing day and night.
Months flew by like that.
Then April arrived—cold fading, sprouts budding.
The film finished editing and all post-production.
“Now… it’s the internal screening…!”
A VIP screening room in ContentTrinity’s headquarters.
Top decision-makers from the production company, distributor, and investors, along with key staff, stared at the screen in heavy silence.
Director Ji Seongwoo bit his nails, anxiously flicking his gaze between the screen and people’s faces.
The film began—
and the moment Ryu Sunho’s acting unfolded on screen, the air in the screening room changed.
Executives who had been judging with cold business eyes gradually leaned forward.
Han Seungwoo, the division head who’d had his arms crossed, had already uncrossed them and was fully absorbed in the screen.
“O……”
When the end credits finally rolled and the lights came on, no one could speak first.
It was as if the shock and heavy aftertaste the film left behind had swallowed everyone.
It was Han Seungwoo who broke the silence.
“…This is crazy.”
At that one sentence, admiration poured out like a burst dam.
“This… will work. No—it has to.”
The voice of Park Gyeongsu, CEO of Nine Film, trembled faintly with excitement.
“Director… this isn’t just a movie. It’s a work. A work…”
“Wow. And Ryu Sunho’s acting… I have nothing to say. How is that a rookie’s first leading role?”
“Seriously. It’s the total opposite of Kang Seoho, but it hit even harder.”
“Where did a monster rookie like this come from…”
“Message, direction, acting—everything’s perfect. Truly.”
Under the flood of praise, Director Ji Seongwoo ended up wiping away tears like a fool.
It felt like being rewarded for a long wait and effort.
No reshoots or additional editing were needed.
All that remained was how to bring this work into the world.
“It’d be a waste to release this quietly. How do we release it loudly?”
“We should blow it up at a film festival first. Get recognition for its artistry and let word of mouth spread.”
“Come to think of it, isn’t this week the submission deadline for Bucheon International Fantastic Film Festival?”
“Ah, right. The timing’s perfect. The genre fits too.”
At that, everyone’s eyes turned to Director Ji Seongwoo.
Under the pressure, he asked carefully, his expression uneasy.
“Will… my film work at a festival?”
A heavy hand landed on Director Ji Seongwoo’s shoulder.
It was Park Gyeongsu, CEO of Nine Film.
He looked Director Ji Seongwoo straight in the eyes and said in a voice full of certainty.
“If this doesn’t win something, I’m never making films again.”
After hearing the news that the internal screening of Vacuum State ended in rave reviews and that it would be submitted to a film festival before release—
‘Then I need to properly prepare marketing too.’
I decided I’d meet Han Seungwoo soon and discuss the advertising strategy I’d drafted up on my own.
And as an actor, I also needed to work to promote the film.
Going forward, I’d appear on TV and YouTube programs to promote it, and attend preview screenings.
With my face being exposed to the media more often,
what I needed now was my buzz.
‘The poster shoot is done, and I don’t need to keep long hair anymore.’
Then should I raise my Looks stat now?
Without hesitation, I opened the system window and invested all three accumulated stat points into Looks.
【Looks: A】
【To raise to A+ rank, 3 stat points are required. Proceed?】
Of course my answer was YES.
【Looks: A → A+】
At last, after a long buildup, I obtained my first A+ rank Looks.
.