The Visionary and the Villain

Released in 1989, director Tim Burton's Batman sent shockwaves through the world upon its release. Until then, the superhero genre had been widely perceived as campy and childish, but Tim Burton's Batman completely shattered that public perception.

Going far beyond a simple hero flick, the film blended a gothic aesthetic with elements of crime drama and film noir. It became a massive success, grossing over $400 million worldwide. Furthermore, following its release, Warner Bros. launched an aggressive IP branding campaign, raking in profits from merchandise that dwarfed the film's box office earnings several times over.

The success of Batman was a watershed moment that taught Hollywood executives a lucrative lesson: IP branding is a goldmine. With the first film's triumph, a sequel was naturally greenlit.

However, three years later, the 1992 release of Batman Returns yielded results far different from what Warner Bros. had anticipated. While the film itself was praised by critics, public opinion was deeply divided. Tim Burton's signature dark, grotesque style had become far more pronounced, making it impossible to roll out the planned merchandising campaign as intended.

It was a disaster.

The movie was simply too hardcore; children cried in theaters, utterly terrified by the Penguin. Consequently, the merchandise line tanked, and even McDonald's had to prematurely end its Happy Meal toy promotion due to a deluge of furious complaints from parents. For Warner Bros., which had expected massive IP expansion through the sequel, it was an unprecedented blow.

That's why they kicked Tim Burton off the franchise and hired Joel Schumacher.

In hindsight, it was a disastrous move, but at the time, it seemed like a rational choice. Joel Schumacher was a director with a strong visual flair, and for Warner Bros., who wanted a more family-friendly Batman to revive their merchandising empire, bringing in a studio-friendly director seemed like the perfect solution.

The problem was, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠they took that direction way too far, and the movie ended up being an absolute trainwreck.

Of course, Sion didn't need to worry about that part of history. He was about to join a completely different branch of reality branching off from that timeline.

"..."

"What are you thinking about?"

"Just... this and that."

Sion replied nonchalantly to Charlie Kang's question, but then his eyes caught something outside the window.

"Pull over for a second, Charlie."

"Huh...? Why? Do you need to use the restroom?"

"Handsome guys like me don't use the restroom. It's something else. Hurry."

Charlie rolled his eyes but pulled over anyway, coaxed by Sion's playful yet persistent urging. Sion stepped out of the car and walked into a small comic book store on the roadside.

Watching him, Charlie let out a small sigh of relief.

Well, at least he's not completely uninterested.

After all, Sion had immediately gone to buy reference material. In truth, Charlie had been anxiously watching Sion's expression the entire time. The reason was simple: though Sion had started the meeting with a genuine smile, his smile had grown increasingly artificial as the discussion progressed. Lawrence, sitting across from them, might not have noticed, but Charlie, as his agent and fellow Korean, couldn't help but pick up on Sion's subtle shift in attitude.

He looked so gloomy after we left the meeting that I was worried.

But seeing him immediately seek out the original comics for research made Charlie's eyes well up with emotional pride. *He's truly become a professional,* he thought.

When Sion stepped inside, a few bespectacled young men shrieked and bolted out of the store like frogs spotting a snake, but Sion dismissed it as a minor, trivial occurrence.

Having successfully cleared out the resident nerds like an invasive predator, Sion emerged from the shop holding about ten comic books.

"Let's go."

"Yi-siony, you rascal..."

"Hmm? What's wrong?"

"I, Charlie Kang, have never been more touched! The moment you get a casting offer, you show this kind of drive! Wow, buying the original comics right away! Haha! It might be hard to write this off as a business expense, but this is truly magnificent! I was just thinking that it's about time you starred in a blockbuster movie!"

"...Is that so?"

Sion peeled the plastic wrap off a comic book, deciding to listen to whatever rant Charlie was building up to.

"Yes! Hollywood is all about blockbusters! And blockbusters are the heart of Hollywood! The ultimate family entertainment created within the studio system! To be the best, you have to work with the best!"

"You're not wrong."

"Exactly! You've proven your acting chops with your previous work, and with the sitcom and your connection to MJ, you've built up the public recognition to transition into a mainstream adult actor! I think this is a perfect fit!"

"Who did you say our director was again?"

"Tim Burton! Ah, the absolute best!"

"What's your favorite work of his?"

"Batman!"

"And who's the main character?"

"Batman, obviously!"

...He hasn't watched it.

Charlie Kang had excellent business instincts, but for someone in the film industry, his cultural literacy was... slightly narrow. It ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wasn't entirely incomprehensible. To a Korean-American man in his early forties during this era, watching Batman probably just made him wonder what was wrong with that crazy guy in the bat suit.

"...Then, second question. What's the title of the project I was offered?"

"Pain Walker!"

"Do you know what kind of story it is?"

"Pain Walker comes out and beats everyone up! And you're playing that Pain Walker guy, right?"

"It's a bit different. It's more of a dark hero story."

"Dark? Like the vibe of Swing in Chicago?"

"Similar. The protagonist is a private detective who can weaponize his own trauma or the trauma of others."

Sion flipped through the pages of a recent issue of Pain Walker, studying the illustrations. A hero clad in a black trench coat, wearing a mask adorned with geometric patterns symbolizing nightmares. He forced others to recall their worst nightmares, manifesting various abilities based on those memories to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fight villains. The overall atmosphere was strikingly similar to Batman—and indeed, looking at the early issues, one couldn't deny its heavy influence—but in terms of publication history, it was a fairly long-running superhero comic.

A dark hero, vigilante, detective concept perfectly suited for the monochrome aesthetic of the nineties. It felt like a blend of Batman, Rorschach, Daredevil, and the Punisher.

It's on the niche side, but it's one of the more mainstream titles among the indie, darker comics.

A man plagued by trauma during the day, who could only sleep at night after obsessively hunting down criminals. Sion turned the pages one by one, murmuring quietly.

"It definitely fits Tim Burton's style."

"Oh, really? Wow, this is going to be one hell of a movie then!"

"Exactly."

In his past life, Pain Walker had been a fairly successful film. It had gained immense popularity among younger audiences who craved more of Tim Burton's signature dark superhero aesthetic after Batman Returns.

It's certainly not a bad starting point for a blockbuster career.

It was a moment where ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he should have been thrilled at the prospect of starring in such a film. Yet, strangely... Sion's gaze drifted elsewhere.

The arch-nemesis of Pain Walker.

"Ah, good morning! I look forward to working with you today!"

A young, brilliant, and handsome businessman in his early thirties. In reality, he was a sociopath who used his superpowers to plunge people into chaos for his own gain. The main villain of the story, whose daytime and nighttime personas were polar opposites: Lucid.

Actually, I think I suit this role much better.

After all, it was Lucid, rather than Pain Walker, who truly defined the core atmosphere of the story. Although he hadn't received the script yet, just looking at the character designs, his own image aligned far better with the immaculate, sharp-dressed Lucid than the disheveled, ragged Pain Walker. Pretending to be a saint on the outside while harboring a completely different nature underneath—in a way, that mirrored the dual image Sion Lee was currently projecting to Hollywood.

Shall I play a little trick again?

With a subtle smirk, Sion found himself eagerly anticipating the production meeting with Tim Burton.

It had been a very long time since he had basked in the sunlight.

Why am I even here?

Tim Burton, who had been entirely consumed by his work on Ed Wood, sat in a meeting room at Castle Rock Entertainment, waiting blankly for someone to arrive. He had initially planned to reject the offer outright. However, when they sent over the script and promised, "We'll let you do whatever you want," he found himself intrigued enough to at least hear them out.

As he sat there, staring blankly at the dust motes dancing in the streaming sunlight, the door opened and someone entered the room.

"Are you doing alright?"

"Ah, Mrs. Gordon. Hello."

"How have you been? I heard filming is well underway."

"It's wonderful. Filming is so much happier when there isn't someone breathing down your neck over every little detail."

"I see. I prefer to keep my lips zipped as well. ...You know that, right?"

"Of course, I know."

Tim nodded with a slightly awkward smile. The set of Batman Returns had been plagued by relentless studio interference. He often thought that if a producer like Lawrence Gordon, who understood and protected him, hadn't been there to shield him from the executives, his mental state would have crumbled long ago. Because she was the one presenting a project he was genuinely fond of, along with the most tempting offer possible, he had agreed to at least listen.

Tim pulled the faxed script from his bag and slid it across the table.

"The movie looks like it could be interesting."

"Especially if you're the one directing it. Please consider that a rough draft."

It was an invitation to tear it apart and rebuild it however he saw fit. In truth, the screenplay for Pain Walker was already highly polished and detailed, but Lawrence Gordon had framed it as a blank canvas to hook an auteur like Tim Burton. After a moment of contemplation, Tim spoke up.

"To what extent?"

"You know my style."

"Of course I do. Then, what about the budget...?"

"I'll be honest. It's still up in the air. But we've landed a big fish."

"Who?"

"Sion Lee."

"Sion Lee?"

Tim Burton's eyes sharpened behind his glasses.

"Yes. He's one of the hottest topics in Hollywood right now. Once word gets out that he's attached to the project as the lead, our funding will easily double, if not more. What do you think?"

"...If he's the lead, is he playing Pain Walker?"

"Yes. He played a somewhat similar, down-and-out character in an indie film a few years ago, and his acting has only matured since then. I think he'd be excellent. What are your thoughts, Director?"

"First... I'd like to meet the actor in person before giving my opinion."

The moment he heard the news, Tim fell into deep, serious thought. Squinting as he withdrew into his own mind, he exuded the distinct aura of a true artist—someone who possessed a unique worldview that ordinary people couldn't grasp.

Perhaps less of a genius... and more of an eccentric.

Lawrence Gordon, who appreciated Tim Burton's unique color, remained silent to give him space to think. She quietly sipped her coffee, waiting for Sion's arrival. A moment later, a knock sounded, and the door swung open.

"Ah, you're here. He—"

Lawrence turned to greet him, but her expression froze. Tim Burton, reacting a beat slower because of his deep thoughts, turned toward the door with a puzzled expression. In that instant, seeing the man standing in the doorway clad in a pristine, pure white suit, his heart began to thud wildly, like a young girl falling in love for the first time.

The source of that sudden flutter offered a gentle, smooth smile and spoke.

"Good afternoon. I hope you're both having a wonderful day."

Gliding into the conference room with the elegant stride of a swan, Sion first greeted Lawrence, who had stood up with a dumbfounded expression. Perhaps because of his sharp, charismatic businessman-like demeanor, the Asian man in the blue suit who followed him in looked less like his agent and more like his personal secretary.

"...Sion? Oh, you're dressed quite differently than usual today."

"Well, since this is my first time meeting such a brilliant director, I wanted to dress up to make a good impression. And Mrs. Gordon, those earrings look absolutely stunning on you today."

"Fufu, thank you. ...Ah."

Lawrence smiled warmly at the smooth compliment, but a split second later, a look of bewilderment crossed her face. She had been swept up by Sion's performance and had responded without thinking. Yes, Sion Lee was undeniably acting. Having met him several times already, Lawrence knew this persona was completely different from the real Sion. Yet, even this unfamiliar guise suited him flawlessly.

Is it because of his looks? His acting skills? Or is it a profound understanding and immersion into the character?

Of course, to Tim Burton, the reason didn't matter. The man standing before him was the living, breathing incarnation of James "Lucid" Coleman, the villain of Pain Walker whom he had so thoroughly analyzed.

A supervillain who dominated people during the day with his gentle, benevolent demeanor, and at night, stole and manipulated the dreams they held dear. What Sion was doing right now was crystal clear.

He wants this role.

Gradually, a subtle exaggeration crept into Sion's movements. The image of a "brilliant businessman" seamlessly blended with the unsettling undertones of a sociopath. Sitting down with the refined grace of an aristocrat, he behaved as though he were the absolute center of the universe, a perfect mirror of the narcissistic James.

"Shall we sit down and talk?"

It was an audacious, unconventional attitude to display in a business meeting. Yet, that was precisely what captivated Tim Burton.

"Ah, hello, Mr. Lee. I am..."

"Tim Burton. Correct? I've thoroughly enjoyed your work."

Even the casual, dismissive way he cut him off fit the character's persona to perfection. Initially, Tim Burton had insisted on meeting the actor first, claiming he needed time to think. But the moment he laid eyes on this eccentric, larger-than-life man who seemed to have stepped straight out of a comic book panel, he couldn't help but blurt out:

"Please let me direct this film."

Having orchestrated this encounter not through corporate business tactics, but through the language of Tim Burton himself, a soft, narcissistic smile spread across Sion's lips. He knew he was about to get exactly what he wanted: the role he desired, and the heart of the director he needed.