That Suspicious Professor (1)
Even though they'd caught him meeting with outsiders for production investments, he was utterly unfazed.
It meant he'd been prepared for something like this from the start.
Yang Jun-gyu knew that yelling more here wouldn't get him anywhere.
"How much are they offering?"
"You know what you're doing, don't you, Director?"
He deliberately emphasized the title Director with sharp snaps.
"Are you pissed? You pissed off?"
"Seems like the pissed one is you, Director. Oh, and the National Director's gonna be pissed soon too."
"You punk. How can you pull this shit? 18 billion isn't chump change. You gotta think about convincing writer Kim Sang-hee with that."
"I know writer Kim Sang-hee won't budge on that, you know it, and the National Director... well, maybe not. The guy's been out of the trenches for ages."
Yang Jun-gyu switched to a softer, coaxing tone.
"It's not a rom-com. It's a historical drama—historical. Those things eat budgets alive, and if you can't nail the PPL right, you start off saddled with penalties."
"A fusion historical drama. Don't wanna get mistaken for some stuffy traditional sageuk."
"Fusion, trendy, whatever—it's max 20 episodes, right? You know historicals need to build viewers slowly to make real money."
"The Kim Sang-hee & Jeong Seo-hoon combo is different. It'll hook the young crowd hard from the jump. I guarantee it."
"We're factoring that in with the 18 billion. That's not pocket lint. Other networks' historical teams would riot if they heard. Give us that much, and we can make a masterpiece."
"Ah, then tell them to go make it with gusto. Got Kim Sang-hee? Jeong Seo-hoon? Me, Jang Seung-won? If anyone could whip up a hit just by throwing money at it, why bother with PDs, writers, or actors?"
"You little shit. Won't concede a single inch."
Throat parched, Yang Jun-gyu chugged his beer.
"I get where you're coming from."
"I know."
"National Director gets it too."
"Not sure about that."
"Seung-won-ah. Budget office says absolutely no more than 18 billion per episode. What're we gonna do?"
"They didn't stop there, did they? What's the rest?"
"......"
"Ah, just spill it all at once. Don't tease it out bit by bit. That's for gift unwrapping, not dropping a diagnosis bomb—gotta let the patient brace themselves."
"Brace my ass. Cut the side schemes, please."
Another chug.
"They want it bumped to 30 episodes."
"Insane. Writer Kim Sang-hee doesn't do dragged-out stories. It's not her style at all."
"......"
"And these cheapskates slashing to 18 billion can't wait to jack up the episode count? 18 billion times 30 is 540 billion. They don't have 400 but got 540 lying around?"
"Anyway, that's Budget's stance. Even National Director can't budge 'em."
Yang Jun-gyu stressed it wasn't his position, loading his tone accordingly.
Jang Seung-won swept his eyes over the cold snacks, then downed his flat beer in one go.
The 300ml surged down his throat, fizzy carbonation stinging his windpipe sharp.
"Hyung. You really get my side, right?"
"Of course, punk. What's a manager for? Buffering the gap between higher-ups and underlings, right? Getting squeezed from both ends. It's tough on me too."
"Isn't a manager the one pretending to get squeezed while slyly injecting the bosses' decisions downward? Keep playing victim cosplay, and I can't be straight with you."
"Fine, fine. Lay it out straight."
"Met with NetPrime folks today, and yeah, we talked Haegeuk investments."
A silent groan escaped.
He'd heard about the meeting but hoped it'd be denied.
Even if not denied, he wanted to hear it wasn't an investment pitch.
"They'll throw 30 billion for simulcast rights. One condition: at least 16 episodes."
"Crazy... 30 billion whose kid is that? Not even exclusive, just simulcast for 30 billion?"
"Ah, of course, streaming starts 30 minutes to an hour after our broadcast ends."
"Still, damn. Fuck, Americans really flash cash like that."
"Got other offers too."
Yang Jun-gyu snapped as Jang Seung-won grinned like he was hiding a punchline.
"Hey! Don't dole it out teasingly—just dump it all fresh!"
"Exclusive rights? 30 billion per episode, up to 30 eps—guaranteed 900 billion."
"For real insane? Burning 900 billion on a historical?"
"Kim Sang-hee's Illegal hit 30% on cable. Groundwave? Sky-high."
Actually 29.9%, but Yang knew not to nitpick now.
"A writer with four straight hits drops a sharpened historical new work. Script unseen? Instant OK, OK."
"......"
"They pitched exclusive first, but I snagged the simulcast option thinking of our network."
"......Yeah, got it. Sorry. Didn't know... I......"
"Pulling Haegeuk this and that in front of a PD like me? Too much, Director."
"Ah, sorry, alright."
Yang Jun-gyu racked his brain desperately.
Realistically, the offers were worlds apart. Comparing was foolish.
"I'm torn too. Hand Haegeuk fully to NetPrime for 900 billion, or split half-half with them for 300 billion assist? But if you're asking how I can do this, I've gotta run on beast-heart mode."
"Hey, hey, sorry—enough. Hold off for now. I'll wrangle something. But......"
He polished his dry throat with flat beer, then continued.
"Say you get that 900 billion offer. What then? Go indie?"
Securing 900 billion production investment.
From a PD's view, prime chance to launch his own drama company and break free.
"Am I nuts? I can handle a few shoots, but running a business? No way. Temper's too short for schmoozing or sales."
"True that. That's why I'm sweating bullets in front of my subordinate here. Buyers? No mercy."
"But handling a deal this big? Production companies'd line up begging. Public corp life's getting stale anyway—private prodco or network ain't so bad, right?"
"Whoa, whoa, chill. People chase public gigs for reasons, punk. Everyone knows why."
Licking his lips anxiously, Yang lowered his voice.
"You tell writer Kim Sang-hee yet?"
"Not yet."
"Good call. Keep it zipped a bit longer. I'll talk to National Director again......"
"Planning to bundle your deal too and lay it all out at once. Don't wanna stress her multiple times. She needs to focus on the script, right?"
Yang muttered, looking drained.
"Won't yield a word to the end......"
"Sitting here this long is already yielding plenty, Jun-gyu hyung?"
The briefed National Director said flatly, face unchanging.
"I'd love to give PD Jang what he wants. But the moneybags are blocking—whaddya gonna do."
"Joint production with NetPrime seems most realistic, no, National Director?"
"Looks that way to me."
"Budget won't have a leg to stand on. They skimped, so we pulled outside cash—what can they say? 'No dough, so hustle investments yourselves'—not their first rodeo strong-arming."
"Normal folks'd shut up. Got it. Push that way."
Yang Jun-gyu returned to his office relieved.
Just needed National Director's firm yes, then good news for beast-hearted subordinate Jang Seung-won.
And about two hours later...
"National Director? You're not screwing with me. For real, right?"
"What the—why?"
"This ain't fish in a barrel. It's a yellowtail teasing the bait."
Yang Jun-gyu lacked the guts to call PD Jang Seung-won.
A sleek-lined Volvo cruised Korea University campus, pulling up before the Engineering Building.
The driver's door opened, and a middle-aged man in a tailored suit with a sharp, athletic build stepped out.
Students and staff passing by stole glances—this physique was rare even here.
The man entered the building with familiar steps.
PROFESSOR LEE SE-JONG
Before the office door, the man knocked lightly. A voice invited him in.
Inside, frost-capped-haired Professor Lee Se-jong looked up, face lighting with delight as he rose.
"Dr. Jeong. What brings you without a heads-up?"
"Just passing by, thought I'd drop in."
"You rascal. In Korea and don't visit sooner? What've you been up to?"
"Family time kept me busy. Cut me some slack. Seo-hoon's sudden dive into acting threw me—couldn't focus on much else."
"I get it, I get it. Come, sit."
They sat across a low table, catching up effortlessly.
Long time no see, but conversation flowed like yesterday's parting.
"Kid's changed. Full adult now."
"Felt that too. Wasn't like this pre-military. So calm and composed, I half-thought you were sitting there."
"Could stand to be more carefree, like Su-ryeon. Never asked for much as a kid—no parenting joy. Now? Marriage material."
"Rules the lab like a pro. Age irrelevant—he'll own the vibe."
Son-praise, disciple-praise exchanged warmly...
"Wrapped your projects? Where to next?"
"Dunno. Intel wants me back, but mulling a break. Or MIT again."
"Rather than that grind, how 'bout tenure here at Korea U?"
"Too field-hardened for teaching young'uns. Tough."
They swapped personal updates long deferred...
"Oh, saw Seo-hoon's movie that hit 13 million?"
"Not yet. Pre-ordered the DVD. Catch it when time frees up."
"Might miss it till the grave. Theatrical run's over—no way now. My son, but damn, he acts well. Watch the drama and flick."
"Got it, got it. Heard he's in another drama. Any other news?"
"Scheduling's locked, but looks like it's tanking. That's the industry?"
"Locked but tanking? Not ping-pong—what's that mean?"
"Null-jumping, maybe. Haha."
"Dr. Jeong, kids stare weird at those old eng-dad jokes now."
"You led me on."
They chuckled in vintage eng-dad vibes, then back to flow.
"Heard it's stalling on production budget approval."
"Yeah?"
Beneath the thick white hair, eyes sharp behind glasses gleamed vividly.
"Budget's the issue?"