Turkey Instead of a Chick (1)
"We'll cut out every single scene that bastard's in and reshoot them all. That woman too. There won't be a trace of those two anywhere in Su-jang-go."
"You think that's possible? Reshooting at this late stage? What about the schedule? The budget? Haven't we already blown through the production costs?"
Hwang In-jun ground his teeth inwardly.
A man plotting to scrap the whole movie was fretting over a reshoot?
It was no different from a cheetah ripping a live rabbit apart while murmuring, "Tell me if it hurts."
"The shoot itself won't take long. Once the sets are ready, principal photography can wrap in a week—no, five days."
"As expected from Chungmuro's prodigy, Director Hwang. Impressive. But won't the budget trip you up?"
"……"
"We can overlook the new actor's guarantee, but rebuilding the sets from scratch, reassembling the crew—money's gonna bleed out everywhere. How do you plan to handle that?"
"800 million... no, 500 million, and the reshoot's done."
"And where's that cash coming from? You're not planning to raid the marketing budget, are you?"
"I'll secure additional investment."
For a split second, Hwang In-jun caught the glint of mischief in Park Si-hong's eyes.
He was expecting him to grovel for the extra production funds.
Hwang In-jun knew he couldn't indulge that expectation.
He'd even mulled over offering additional investment if things went smoothly, but not now.
In this atmosphere? He'd flip the table the second I opened my mouth.
That teasing attitude was a trap, baiting his hopes.
"I'm the director, so I'll stake it on the movie. Don't you want to see how your 11.6 billion investment pays off, President Park?"
Hwang In-jun decided not to hold back his biggest weapon anymore. He played the movie card right then.
Park Si-hong's eyes narrowed, a subtle smile playing on his lips.
Impossible to tell if it was good or bad.
"That's what a director should do. Roll it."
Hwang In-jun exhaled a massive sigh of relief inside, like a defendant acquitted in the first trial.
"Yes. Right away..."
"Choi Secretary."
A woman in her mid-30s, dressed in a sharp suit, stepped forward at the dry command.
With a single remote click, blinds dropped over every window, blocking the light, and a massive screen descended from one wall.
As if this were routine, Choi connected a laptop smoothly, and the ceiling-mounted beam projector cast the image onto the screen.
Hwang In-jun blinked in surprise, glancing between the projector and screen. Top-of-the-line high-end gear, easily worth tens of millions.
"What's with the shock? I like movies too. That's why an old guy like me, scraping together cash from usury, dips into filmmaking."
"No, sir."
Of course—if he could casually toss aside a movie with his own 11.6 billion sunk in. That spoke to the depth of his rage.
No wonder the speakers looked top-shelf when I walked in...
"You watch a lot of films?"
"Not tons—one every couple months. I hate crowds, so I built a home theater in the office."
For a moment, hope surged—maybe this'll work out—then deflated just as fast.
Park Si-hong's eyes still burned with the gangster's growl, ready to torch it all.
This was just a businessman's mindset, letting him pour every ounce into his pitch.
"Let's roll it."
***
Throughout the film, Park Si-hong kept his chin propped on his hand, eyes glued to the screen.
No comments, no gasps, no reactions. He sat like a stone, watching straight through.
Even in scenes Hwang In-jun was secretly proud of—ones meant to hook audiences—Park stayed ramrod straight.
Did he lie about liking movies? Was the home theater just decor?
As faint resignation crept in, Park finally spoke.
"Feels flat in spots."
"Ah, yes. Editing's not fully done yet."
"Not that. Where's that bastard? Where's Ha-ran?"
"Well..."
"You already cut them all out? Play the original. Let me compare."
"……"
"The gangster's on a leash for now. Roll it."
Hwang In-jun hurriedly queued the original cut.
Unrendered editing footage, quality a bit rough, but the pricey optics and speakers filled the gaps.
Hwang In-jun retracted his doubts. Park really did love movies.
Who else sits stock-still through a two-hour film twice in a row?
Audience member? More critic or mogul. Whatever.
The end credits rolled at last, and Park spoke.
"It's fun."
Hwang In-jun's heart boiled over, like a final acquittal in the third trial.
"Would be even better without those two shitstains. So, who's your replacement?"
"A rookie actor. Different from Yoon Hyeong-sik in..."
"Just say the adulterer. Hearing the name pisses me off."
"Ah, yes. He's a total contrast visually and in acting style, but that's what'll bring fresh energy to the film. I'm counting on it."
"Better than now?"
"Exactly. I've got scenes in mind. Just shoot 'em."
"Show me."
No subject needed—Hwang In-jun got it instantly and cued clips from Illegal.
His handpicked highlights: Lee Jin-uk's chilling madness.
For a split second, he saw it.
Park Si-hong biting his lip ever so slightly.
-Heh, hehehe... Bad guy, killed another one. Hahaha, hahahaha!
At Lee Jin-uk's final self-hunt, Park clenched his fist tight.
The screen went black, blinds retracted, office light returned.
"You lock in that actor? Rookies hate jumping in last-minute."
"He's on board. He saw the film—liked Kim Chan, wished he'd auditioned."
"Why not use him instead of the adulterer from the start? Clean slate."
"Didn't know him then. Debuted months ago. That drama just wrapped."
"Gotta pay him too. Reshoot means extra costs?"
"I'll whip up new proposals, pound the pavement. Some still trust my face..."
"Nah. Don't."
Hwang In-jun's cheek twitched. Close call on the poker face.
"You gamble?"
"No, sir. Tried slots for fun once or twice."
"I do it plenty."
Park Si-hong flexed his interlocked hands, staring into space as he continued.
"Folding after betting 116 chips? Amateur hour."
"President Park."
"I'm raising. Give Choi the numbers. Whatever you need."
Jackpot!
Hwang In-jun threw victory uppercuts in his mind.
"Bring the kid sometime. Sooner the better."
"Got it! Thank you! Thank you, sir!"
Park Si-hong waved dismissively—out.
***
Hwang In-jun called Jeong Seo-hoon the second he was out.
"It's done! Extra budget secured—just shoot your parts now! Can we meet? Need that signature to relax."
-Dad's back after ages. Tough to head out today.
"I'll come to you. Quick meet near your place, sign and done."
-Okay.
Hwang In-jun hailed a cab and flew to Jeong Seo-hoon's neighborhood.
His ever-present standard contract felt like armor today.
At a quiet café, waiting—door opened. Jeong Seo-hoon entered first, Jeong Su-ryeon behind.
Hwang In-jun stared, dazed, entranced.
That superior visual, innate aura—not just saving the film, but haloed like a saint.
"Come on in."
"Director. Tough grind."
"That's directing. Happens all the time. No biggie."
"If this is no biggie, maybe I should rethink my career?"
"Hey, hey—don't even joke. You just clawed out of the director swamp. We saw you pale."
"Sign the damn contract quick. Save my heart."
Jeong Seo-hoon scanned it.
The Film Actors' Guild's latest standard contract.
Fill in name, amount, dates—no fine print fights.
"Guarantees are touchy—usually negotiate with agencies, not actors direct..."
Jeong Seo-hoon had no agency.
Sudden drama debut, fresh off-air, now movie rush.
"It's fine. Not the type to get touchy over pride."
Grabbing supply officers by the collar over gear shortages, nearly killing them—not once or twice. Court-martialed for insubordination a few times.
Pay haggling? Child's play.
"You're a rookie, first film—but Illegal blew up, and you're bailing me out..."
Jeong Seo-hoon calm; Jeong Su-ryeon fidgety, swallowing hard, awaiting the offer.
Hwang In-jun eyed him cautiously.
"How's 50 million sound?"
"50 million?"
Jeong Su-ryeon nearly yelped "50 million?!"
She pinned herself down, feigning calm.
"Supporting role, budget tight—can't go higher right now. Next one's lead, killer terms. Settle for this?"
Jeong Seo-hoon glanced at his sister.
She facial-muscled from an unseen angle: Sign it! Sign!
"Done."
***
Son and daughter returned with a film contract; father Jeong Tae-hyeon voiced concern.
"This okay? Filling in for flops rarely ends well. I once cleaned up an ARM mess—trembling by the end."
"Different, Dad. Film's solid—just axing one actor for personal crap."
"Contract solid?"
"He knows more than most lawyers. Buried himself in law for patent attorney cert. Why'd you study that anyway?"
"Professor said it'd come in handy. Plenty of time then."
"Your prof's a gem. Too big for Korea University. Would've stayed Caltech without that mess."
Jeong Tae-hyeon sighed regret, then eyed the contract.
"So, pay? Rookies don't rake much."
"50 million, Dad. Not bad..."
"Rookie treatment, huh. Don't sweat it too much, son."
Tsking pityingly, he irked Jeong Su-ryeon.
"Dad—agency-less total newbie in supporting for 50 mil? Director's cutting a huge deal."
"That's good pay? Neighbor kid—not even famous, never seen on TV—pulled 30 million last year."
"Can't compare Hollywood to Chungmuro, Dad. Different leagues."
"Korea really screws artists."
***
Next day, Jeong Seo-hoon joined Hwang In-jun to meet the investor.
"Seems scary, cold—but business is business, no grudges. Investors love that detachment. He speaks curt—bear with it."
"Casual speech feels natural. Got it."
"Already 11.6 billion in our film, now more. Loaded—finance guy, media buff."
"Finance" softened "underworld loans."
Hwang In-jun didn't know Park's past.
SH Invest: squeaky-clean legit firm.
"Come in."
Park Si-hong rose, welcoming warmly.
Beaming opposite yesterday—like a different man in disguise.
"Director Hwang, shoot starts when?"
"Regathering staff, restoring sets. Earliest end of month."
"Don't rush and botch. Save 100 mil, lose a billion. Anyway—this the rookie you raved about?"
Smiling mouth, steady eyes locked on Jeong Seo-hoon.
"Nice to meet you. Rookie actor Jeong Seo-hoon."
"Park Si-hong. Call me President Park."
"Yes, sir."
Silence followed.
They stared piercingly, postures rigid.
Hwang In-jun fidgeted, clueless.
Park broke it slowly.
"Our rookie's got great eyes. Familiar gaze."
"Thank you."
"What'd you do before acting?"
"Studied. Student."
"Nah. Besides that. What else?"