The Negotiation
I arrived at the agreed meeting place: Metflix Korea.
"Hello. I'm Kim Hyunsoo of Metflix Korea."
"Yoo Eunho, U-INVESTMENT."
Kim Hyunsoo, VP — Vice President.
He was the man who oversaw all Korean content, holding the highest post at Metflix Korea.
K-Pop Evil Slayers had actually been a project driven by the U.S. headquarters, but because it was a K-pop-related production, the budget had been allocated through Metflix Korea. That was why it had become a casualty of the company's Asia-market budget cuts.
"This is the contract transferring every right related to K-Pop Evil Slayers."
"May I take a moment to review it?"
"Of course."
I had already received the contract separately. Attorney Park Daehan had finished vetting it for any problems. What he and I were doing now, with him accompanying me, was simply verifying that the version I was about to sign matched the one we had already reviewed.
"IP ownership, distribution rights, music and licensing rights — all confirmed as transferring to U-INVESTMENT. No poison-pill clauses or other irregularities."
"Thank you for your hard work."
"Not at all, sir."
The contract was clean. Sign it, deposit 132.7 billion won, and K-Pop Evil Slayers would belong to U-INVESTMENT.
But there was something else I needed to handle first.
The second contract.
The streaming license for K-Pop Evil Slayers.
"We would like to secure an exclusive streaming license for Metflix for five years at 43 billion won."
Forty-three billion. Serious money. Absolutely not a small sum.
And yet, right now, it was a small sum.
"VP Kim."
"Yes, Representative Yoo."
"I buy a project for 132.7 billion and you want me to sell it back to you for 43? Isn't that highway robbery?"
The wording was harsh, but I couldn't hold it in — the proposal was that shameless.
"What we want is exclusive streaming rights limited to OTT platforms. And we're offering a restricted term of five years."
"So the remaining ninety billion I'm supposed to make back through TV broadcasts, theatrical runs, or dumping it on some other OTT after five years — once the juice has been completely squeezed out of it?"
"If you run a simultaneous theatrical release alongside us, you should be able to generate more than enough revenue."
To clear ninety billion, what would the break-even point even be? At minimum, ten million tickets — maybe more. Of course, the project had never been aimed solely at the Korean market, so I understood why Metflix was projecting high returns.
But this was not the time to be considerate of someone else's position.
"Make it one month."
"Pardon?"
"If you get a one-month head start over every other OTT, isn't that enough?"
"I'm sorry, but if it's only one month, we won't take the deal."
"Understood. Then I'll be withdrawing as well."
"What do you mean by that…?"
"I mean go find another investor. But a K-pop-related project — one that costs 130 billion up front — how many places do you think will just hand that over? You're going to have a rough time. If you'll excuse me."
The songs were good. The sample footage looked sharp. I was even thinking about idol-related business on the side. But all of that was something I could simply walk away from. I could put 130 billion somewhere else. There was no reason I had to chain myself to this particular project.
If anyone should be desperate, it was Metflix — not me.
"Six months, then."
"VP Kim."
"Yes."
"I'm already the one taking on enormous risk by putting up more than 130 billion. You don't get to tell someone like that to shoulder all the danger alone. Honestly, whether it's a month or a week, I'm not even thrilled about giving Metflix exclusive streaming rights at all. Even if it succeeds there, none of that money falls to me."
"……"
"And the only reason I'm still offering Metflix even a one-month exclusive is so we can succeed together. But if you're going to come at me like this — selfishly — then what reason do I have to work with you at all?"
I pressed without hesitation. I could afford to be this bold because I had nothing to lose. Negotiation always belonged to the side that wanted it more, and right now that side was Metflix. I had no intention of yielding an inch.
"Understood. One-month exclusive streaming. We accept."
"OTT only."
"Yes. But we'll need to adjust the amount."
"Go ahead."
"How about 20 billion."
"……"
One hundred twelve point seven billion left to recoup. Could I make it back?
If Metflix was paying 20 billion, places like Dazney or Pineapple would try to pay even less — the project would already have premiered on Metflix. At best 15 billion, at worst 10. Selling to Korean OTT platforms as well would still leave me with more revenue than the reduced 23 billion I was effectively forgoing.
The real question was theatrical release… If the idol group tied to the theatrical run succeeded, I could turn a profit. If it failed, the money would vanish — but it was miracle money to begin with. Losing it wouldn't leave me starving.
All right. Let's do this.
"Fine. I accept."
I signed both contracts. In the end, a full 112.7 billion won disappeared. What I held in its place was K-Pop Evil Slayers.
I would make sure I never regretted this choice.
Honestly, I didn't know much about idols. Beyond the ones people went crazy for during my military service, I had never paid attention. Listening to the latest songs was the extent of it.
Even so, I could tell. I had never once listened to an idol track and been struck by the vocal ability. But when I heard Yoo Serin sing, I was genuinely impressed — and that voice still circled in my head. Looking at Minju, I had thought she was a pretty high-school girl. Yoo Serin was far prettier than that.
A beautiful girl who could also sing. Didn't that already put the odds of success pretty high?
Of course, I had no intention of acting on my own non-expert judgment alone. More than anything, what mattered was the opinion of the people actually in the business.
"Representative, are you listening?"
"Yes, I'm listening. So what you're saying is that this won't be easy."
President Hong Mincheol nodded and continued.
"Actors and idols are completely different fields. We know nothing about that process, and we don't have the infrastructure either. If we're talking idols, we'd need practice rooms — and as you know, there isn't even space left in the office for more desks."
"So you've already looked into it."
"Haa… Here is a list of agencies suitable for acquisition. This is a list of capable producers in the idol field. And last, a list of office buildings appropriate if we expand the business."
I went through the materials carefully, then asked the most important question.
"So how much capital are we looking at?"
"It depends on the choices you make, but if you're thinking of acquiring an agency already in financial trouble, it should be cheaper than when we took over Art Company. Of course, you'll also need to factor in office rent — around thirty to forty million a month."
"So at the high end, rent alone runs about five hundred million a year."
"You'll also need to budget at least that much for a capable producer's salary. They're taking a risk leaving a stable job. And you'll have to be prepared for incentives higher than the base salary as well."
"Hmm…"
The money from selling Solari Coin: 154.7 billion. Buying the rights to K-Pop Evil Slayers: 132.7 billion. The amount Metflix paid for the one-month early release: 20 billion. Roughly 42 billion left.
The money wouldn't be short. Still, I needed to review this more carefully.
"I'll start by going through these materials."
The moment I left the president's office, I walked straight out of the main floor and into the U-INVESTMENT office at the end of the corridor. It was a better place to review documents in quiet.
But what was this? This sudden chill?
"……"
"Jesus—!"
The second I turned my head, I nearly jumped out of my skin. Shin Yena had her face pressed right up against the glass door, and our eyes met.
"What are you doing?!"
"Can I come in?"
"You're already halfway in."
"Then I'll come in. Excuse me~"
Shin Yena stepped inside, glanced around the empty space, then stood in front of me with her hands clasped behind her back, staring straight up at my face.
"Wh-what is it??"
"……"
"Why are you looking at me like that?!"
"Are you a dine-and-dasher?"
"What??"
"Ah — a hit-and-run?"
"What are you even talking about??"
"Come on~ That day, something happened right here, and after that you barely showed up at the company and never contacted me privately either."
"That was—!!"
"That was?"
"Weren't you the same, Yena?"
Between the day we had sex in this office and the time I left for Busan, there had been about two weeks. In that stretch, Shin Yena hadn't said anything particular to me and hadn't reached out privately either. Neither had I. So I had filed the whole thing under "accident" and moved on.
"What is wrong with you…! Didn't you even read the webtoon properly?!"
"What??"
"Ugh, seriously…!!!"
"Why are you getting worked up??"
"The heroine who loses her first time to the CEO is so shocked, so scared, so flustered, she has no idea what to do and keeps trying to avoid him! But she's his secretary, so she runs into him every day and can't escape — and the CEO just keeps… keeps… putting his hands on her… until eventually her body, her heart, even her head are completely under his control…"
"……"
What? Was that why, all this time, she had flinched and looked away every time our eyes met? Waiting for me to do something?
"You are genuinely impossible to understand."
"I-I know…! I know I'm a little weird… But… doesn't that make me even easier to handle…? I mean… I'm the kind of girl you can do whatever you want with…"
"……"
"N-not with just any guy! Only because it's you, Representative…! Because it's you… Ahh—!!"
Shin Yena let out a shriek. She had been up on her toes, face shoved close while she shouted — and I simply pressed down on her head and sat her on the floor.
"R-Representative…?"
"Suck. Until I finish reading all of this."
I sat on the sofa and started going through the materials I had brought. Shin Yena crawled into the narrow space between me and the table, pulled down my zipper and underwear, and took me out.