Wait, What Is This?
An email bearing the name of Animal Farm—about as long-running an educational animal program as this country had—was more than enough to catch my eye.
Was this little scrap of land really home to so many animals that were strange, or remarkable, or carrying some story worth telling? Apparently so. The show never ran out of material, and a new episode turned up every single week.
And why would a program like that want me—wait. No. Of course they would.
For a second I'd forgotten all about my superpower, but the reason Animal Farm had emailed me became obvious almost at once. And what the email actually said was nearly exactly what I'd expected.
"We would be so grateful if you could appear... They're filming in Busan for my convenience, and they'll accommodate me as much as they can?"
Boiled down, the message was simple. Please come on the show—we'll work around you!
There was assorted other talk in there, but nothing that really mattered. The only thing worth calling important was a contact number for someone on the production staff, though whether it belonged to the producer or a writer, I couldn't tell.
"Huh. This was sent a while ago, wasn't it?"
There was just one problem. The email had been sitting in my inbox for more than three days.
Come on—who actually goes through their email one by one these days? It wasn't even a work account.
And I already got an earful for not reading my work email.
I don't know why, of all things, checking email has to be this much of a chore.
But why didn't they just call? They're a terrestrial network. Tracking down my number would've been easy.
Even third-rate tabloids had dug up my number to get in touch, so it was odd that a broadcast network—big enough to call a corporate giant—hadn't contacted me directly. The reason wasn't hard to guess.
They don't want to leave a bad impression. If they rub me the wrong way and I turn them down, they're the only ones who lose.
A quick search online turned up a handful of controversies, and since then their ratings had been slipping bit by bit. They were clearly trying to book me to dig themselves out of it. Which meant that the network, or whoever else, wasn't the one holding the cards. I was.
Setting that aside—if I go on TV, my subscriber count ought to jump, right?
Being in a position to throw my weight around with a broadcaster had its appeal, sure. Throwing my weight around wasn't really my style, though. What actually mattered was that an appearance could grow my Mutube channel.
If I went on, there would be a segment introducing me, and asking them to slip one of my Mutube videos into it didn't strike me as a difficult favor. Run my channel name as a caption beneath the credit for that footage, and plenty of people would look it up out of sheer curiosity.
"Hehe... That'd be a real jackpot, wouldn't it?"
"What's a jackpot?"
"Gah! Don't scare me like that..."
Noona's voice came out of nowhere, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. She must have gotten bored while I was applying for the Silver Play Button and slipped out; now she was back. I'd been so locked in that I hadn't even noticed her coming up behind me.
"Did I startle you? Sorry. So—what's this jackpot?"
She smoothed a hand down my back and smiled, soft and a little sheepish, and the heart that had been hammering in my chest settled back into its usual rhythm almost at once.
"Oh, you know Animal Farm, right, Noona?"
"Animal Farm? Of course I do. I used to watch it every week. I don't really keep up anymore, but... Mom and Dad still watch it every single week, I'm sure. Why?"
"They sent a casting request. I've got this superpower, so I guess an animal show was bound to come looking."
I threw my chest out and gave a shrug, as if I were bursting with pride, and Noona patted my head the way you'd praise a child.
"Aigoo, our Suhwan! You're sooo amazing!"
"Ack! I told you to stop treating me like a kid!"
"But you're cute to your noona, aren't you?"
She caught both my cheeks and squished them the way she would Jjamong's or Maru's face, and I had no choice but to tussle with her for a moment. Noona and I were both closing in on thirty. We could not still be doing this.
I made up my mind that one of these days I would carve the full dignity of a husband-to-be into every inch of myself, and then I picked the Animal Farm conversation back up.
"Anyway! Animal Farm got in touch saying they want to book me. Well—they sent an email, more than got in touch."
"And that's what you meant by a jackpot?"
"Yeah. The people who watch Animal Farm are mostly people who like animal stuff, right? So my Mutube channel would get some promotion out of it."
"That's true. There's been a little talk here and there, but people who love animals still watch it pretty faithfully. If nothing else, they'd catch up with it on Mutube."
Noona nodded, as if she agreed. Then a look full of curiosity came over her face, and she poked my forearm.
"The appearance fee? How much are they paying?"
So that was what had set her curiosity off—the fee. Fair enough. Who wouldn't wonder what celebrities, and the people who show up on TV, actually get paid? But I couldn't give her an answer.
"I don't know either. It wasn't in the email. Could be they aren't allowed to put that in writing. Could be they left it out on purpose so they could haggle with me. Something like that."
"Aww..."
She must have been genuinely curious what the people on a show she used to follow got paid, because the disappointment on her face was plain. Honestly, I was curious too. Every so often some news story would pop up about who got paid how much and it becoming a whole fuss, and I'd always wondered whether any of it was actually true.
"Want me to call them right now and ask?"
"...Really?"
"Why not? I'm planning to go on anyway. I can tell them I'll do it and ask what it pays while I'm at it."
Noona looked even more expectant than I was. She handed me the phone that had been lying on the desk, and under that wordless pressure to hurry up and call, I let out a short laugh and dialed the number from the email.
A ballad in a soft singer's voice played for a moment as the ringback tone. I was still trying to remember what the song was called when the music cut off and a low, thick male voice came through.
"Yes—this is Lee Jaehyung, lead producer of Animal Farm."
"Ah, yes. I'm calling about the email you sent. This is the Animal Communicator. Is now a good time?"
"Oh! Yes, yes! Anytime at all! Yes!"
The man who claimed to be the producer in charge piled yes on top of yes.
Excuse me, Producer. I can hear them looking for you through this receiver, all the way over here. Producer! Producer! You really don't hear how pitifully they're calling you?
Well. Not my problem.
I ignored the faint, wretched little voice leaking through the phone.
"First of all, I saw the email late. It isn't an address I use much, so I was slow to check it."
"Oh, not at all! There are people who don't get back to you until ten days after you call!"
He sounded as if an awful lot had piled up behind that particular ten days. But as if none of that mattered just now, he went straight to asking whether I would appear.
"Sir. Might you be able to appear on our program? We do belong to the educational programming division, but our ratings are not low compared to other variety shows or dramas. Your appearance would help us, of course—but I am confident it would help you as well!"
As if he truly needed me on the show, he went so far as to call me sir, and the request came close to begging. Whether he begged or not, though, only one thing mattered in deciding whether I'd appear.
"Could I ask how much the appearance fee has been set at?"
"The appearance fee? Our educational programming division books people with superpowers from time to time, so we keep a standard rate chart. On that chart, Supreme Rank ability users such as yourself are set at fifteen million won for a single episode! That is higher than what most A-list hosts are paid!"
Oh...
Fifteen million won. A little over ten thousand dollars. I was quietly impressed.
Noona! Fifteen million!
With a gesture and the shape of my mouth, I passed it to Noona, who was listening right beside me. She looked utterly stunned, her mouth falling open in a long, helpless gape. When she ran the café, once every expense was taken out, what she brought home in a month averaged two and a half to three million won—barely two thousand dollars.
"Ow!"
I'd slipped a fingertip between those gaping lips and yanked it back just in time to keep from getting bitten. Doing my best to avoid the sulky glare she leveled at me, I put on a thoughtful face.
"Hmm..."
This was the moment to play a little hard to get. There was a fixed rate chart, so getting paid more might be difficult, but I could probably squeeze a little something extra out of them.
"Sir. We will extend every convenience we are able to. Please—just look favorably on appearing, even once!"
The instant I made a noise like I was hesitating, the producer cried out in a rush. The desperation was obvious to anyone, and it only pushed him further into the weaker position. That wasn't a bad thing for me.
"If you can meet just one condition, I'll appear."
"You have only to say the word!"
"If I go on, there'll be an introduction of me, even a short one, right?"
"That is correct. You are the first Animal Communicating ability user in the country. There is no world in which we would not introduce you!"
"Then, when you do, I'd like you to promote my Mutube channel just a little. Nothing excessive. Just air part of my video as insert footage, and put my channel name in the source credit."
"Aigoo! Of course! And furthermore, after the broadcast, on the video that goes up on our Mutube channel, we will pin your channel address as a fixed comment!"
The moment he confirmed my request wasn't something he couldn't grant, relief washed over him—and then he lit up, energy spiking.
"If you'll go that far, I'd have a hard time saying no."
"Hahaha! Thank you! Then, sir, might you tell me which dates would work for filming?"
"Anytime is fine, really... Usually a broadcast shoot has a set day of the week, doesn't it?"
I asked it while thinking of variety shows, the ones that film on a fixed schedule.
"That is arranged so our regular cast can align their schedules. Filming the segment you appear in can be done whenever is convenient for you!"
A weekend would be no trouble either, he added, though for a smoother shoot he would be grateful if we kept it to morning through midday—and he asked me to name the date I wanted.
"Hmm..."
I had to think for a moment. The café building wasn't even finished yet, so I had a little time to spare. But I knew that filming, then editing, then actually getting it on the air would all take time of their own. I had no intention of dragging this out.
"Please pick whatever time works for you, from tomorrow through the weekend. Anytime in there is fine for me."
"Is that so? Then please wait just one moment!"
He practically shouted it, and then came the sound of him bustling around, as if he were searching for something. A brief murmur, some rustling, and then the sound of the phone coming back to his ear.
"Sir. Then how about the day after tomorrow?"
"The day after tomorrow? Yes, that's fine."
"Ah—and would it be easier on you if we picked you up at your home?"
"If you're willing to go that far, I'm the one who's grateful."
I am a man who does not turn down a kindness offered to him. They were the ones offering. Why would I refuse?
"Then the day after tomorrow, we will come to collect you at home, so please send the address to this number! Ah, and a little later we will email you the details of the shoot, so I would be grateful if you checked."
With that—he clearly had a great deal left to do—he shouted busily at someone off the line and hung up.
Noona and I, who had heard the whole thing, let out a short laugh.
"I never once thought my boyfriend would end up on Animal Farm."
"I never thought I'd end up on it either, you know?"
We put our heads together and grinned.
An appearance on television was only the starting line, and already I could feel it. As a man with a superpower, I had truly begun to run the road to success.