Super Shaman-K (2)
"A winter horror special? That's pretty fresh, but kinda unfamiliar. Still, Eom PD, who's in charge of the program, is famous for tackling all sorts of genres, and his team has solid experience too. Looks like KBA's putting some real money behind it."
We gathered at the Supernatural Phenomena Resolution Office for the first time in ages, diving into discussions based on the info S-man had scoured from the internet overnight. The main topics: What the hell was Super Shaman-K, who this Eom PD guy was, and how much cash we could squeeze out of the broadcasting gig that had landed in our laps.
"I ain't interested in that kinda materialistic bullshit."
"You're my employee, so no interest means you gotta have interest. You think my salary grows outta the ground? You guys gotta work for my paycheck to come through."
I yanked the madwoman back in line when she tried to play coy, then dragged over a massive whiteboard someone had dumped from another office.
"Super Shaman-K—simply put, ain't it just rounding up all the loudmouth occult experts in Korea who talk big and stir shit, then makin' 'em put on a PPAP-style show? Right?"
"From the pre-released info, it seems they're aiming to cast a bunch of famous—or reclusive—shamans and mediums for a raw, real supernatural program. Unlike the usual summer ghost specials, this one's targeting couch potatoes huddled in warm rooms during the cold winter."
"Winter broadcasts do feel a bit dull."
From spring to fall, shows have celebs and comedians hopping around everywhere, showing off all sorts of stuff. No big restrictions on activities thanks to the weather, and it makes for bright, lively footage. But winter TV—dramas aside—is mostly meh. Reality variety loses that 'real' edge big time. Summer's just about dealing with the heat, but brutal winter shoots can't push too hard without wrecking the crew's health. That's why, about twenty years back, those desperate winter water-dunk penalty games on variety shows were a hit—they went all-in on the raw chaos, no holds barred. But now, with sky-high fees for stars, everyone's hush-hush, just coasting along.
KBA's probably smashing that mold with this ambitious winter horror special. Winter shots come out dark, cold, barren, with that creepy vibe. Might even be better for scares than summer.
"Super Shaman-K recruits ten shamans and mediums, puts 'em on the show, and has them tackle missions set by the production team—that's the core content."
"Like what?"
"Haunted house hunts, direct chats or contacts with spirits, unraveling mysteries tied to local spots or ghost stories, that sorta thing. Stuff to satisfy viewers. That's all the leaked info we got."
"So the show's all planned out; they just need to snag the cast. But out of all the shamans, why hit up the madwoman? She ain't even famous."
The madwoman bristled, face twisting, but I just shrugged. Like she thought she was some big-shot, wandering around in tracksuits every day without doing readings?
"W-Well, I hate to say it, but... you're kinda famous in this scene, right?"
"Bullshit."
"No, for real! Living with you, I've seen and heard stuff—why would I lie? Calls come in nonstop from everywhere, folks drop by to pay respects sometimes. You don't do readings, but you seem super renowned."
"That's proof the world's in the end times. People's taste in shamans is tanking."
I scribbled "madwoman" next to Super Shaman-K on the whiteboard and circled it big.
"Point is, one of our office staff got a casting offer. That's a named client request, and named gigs pay. World's all about money in the end. Judas sold Jesus out for chump change—that's the kinda power cash has."
"Sorry, but I'm no money-grubbing shaman."
"Then don't take the dough."
"...You want me to do it for free, no point?"
"I'm the boss—if I say jump, you jump. No need to freak about camera shyness; I'll be on with you."
I wrote "Han Daeri" next to her and circled it the same way.
"If even a nobody shaman like you gets an offer, the network's sweating to fill the cast. Friend goes to Gangnam, employee goes to the studio—same deal."
"Half-right. The content seems to demand one-sided ability tests from shamans and mediums, with viewer votes deciding popularity. Big turn-off, so most probably bail after hearing the pitch. No cast, no crank-in, not even pre-meetings yet."
"Hear that? Madwoman x Han Daeri collab's a go. Chemistry? Blow up the planet!"
I jutted my chin at the two women glaring coldly, like what're you lookin' at? Real men don't flinch at icy stares.
"Plus, this Eom PD's a vet, right? Screw if the concept fits us—ain't success half-guaranteed?"
"Yeah, he's done dramas, variety, docs—always hits at least average. No guarantees of mega-hits, but never flops, so KBA's backing it."
"So, that guy ain't gonna straight-up kill us on air, right?"
"Kill us on air" sounds off, but yeah, vicious edits or staging can trash guests. Most variety sticks to making hotshots look silly, but rogue PDs go hard on amateurs like us. 'Cause noobs won't sue over a little humiliation.
Other shamans and mediums probably ghosted fearing scam labels from brutal cuts. But we don't sweat that—we got no skeletons if we ain't guilty from the jump.
"Viewer takes on Eom PD are mostly positive. Steady climber from the bottom, treats crew and talent well. No scandals, buddies with everyone—seems like a solid, likable all-rounder."
"See? Least he ain't gonna fleece us shamans."
"A shaman on TV dancing for laughs is already materialistic. Gods didn't lend you your gifts for that crap."
To reel in the grumbling madwoman for good, one play left.
"Breaking news: Han Daeri says no show, no dying by madwoman's hand. Shocker."
"Wha—hey! That's not the deal!"
"Jealous?"
I snapped my fingers; S-man tossed an S-corp S-Pen voice recorder.
"Here's the recorder. Say: 'I wanna kill Han Daeri so bad, so I'll do the show~!'"
"Guh! Kill me instead!"
"You ain't some reporter captured by orcs, fuck. Do it or don't! No do, no dying from me either!"
"Eek... fine! I'll do it!"
With her locked in, I handed the recorder back to S-man. He'd cloud it for evidence.
Haksik, who'd watched quietly, hit me with a disgusted tone.
"Uncle, you're seriously gross. How do you blackmail a girl?"
"You... stringing guys along... with one word... that's fine...?"
"Th-that's 'cause of my power... I can't help it...!"
"Me too—money's got me."
1.3 billion by next year.
"And it's all for you, really."
"...What now?"
"Your master's suffering awakens your hidden power, duh."
Classic hero trope these days.
Finally, we'd confirm expected pay direct with Eom PD at KBA. He wanted the cast locked by lunch, pre-meeting afternoon—asked us to head to the studio.