What Can Be Done - 2
The summer sky was clear.
Inside the camper van racing down the highway, cool air poured steadily from the air conditioner. Naturally, I was the one driving. In the passenger seat beside me, Dr. Jang was looking at his phone.
“...”
“...”
I had closed the convenience store for a while and come out here. I needed to make this trip with Dr. Jang for several days, and just in case, I’d even bought the camper van.
The day we left Seoul, Dr. Jang had stared at the vehicle in disbelief.
“W-what is this? Are we traveling around for months?”
“No, about five days. I’m planning to go all over the country.”
“Then we could just sleep at inns or jjimjilbangs.”
“You never know. Besides, isn’t this fun?”
“I keep thinking this, but President Seonwoo, your sense of style is really strange.”
That was how the journey began.
We each quietly did our own part.
I drove.
Dr. Jang handled the guidance.
But on the highway, there wasn’t much need for guidance.
“...”
“...”
Dr. Jang watched the news.
The main topic was, as expected, the bill that had set all of Korea buzzing. In a calm voice, the anchor read the related developments.
“...”
“...”
“...”
“...”
Then Dr. Jang let out a snort.
“Hmph. Acting like good people after the fact, are they? Shameless bastards. If they were really that worried, they should’ve been trying to kill this thing from the start. In, say, two years they’ll be talking about ‘reviewing repeal’ and patting themselves on the back.”
“...”
“After trampling all the sprouts together, are they planning to set up some delicious M&A buffet? Well, that devil, Myeong Gi-jun, is probably about due to step down and collect his pension. He should be taking at least a hundred billion won for pocket money. Of course.”
Every word he spoke was soaked through with bitter disappointment and contempt for politics.
“Im Chang-taek, Myeong Gi-jun, Seo Chan-yong, the president, the ruling party, the opposition party, all of them are in on it. Tsk tsk... disgusting swine. This is why politics only hurts you if you pay attention. It just boils your blood.”
“...”
He clicked his phone off with a cold laugh.
I listened to that sneering tone and kept driving.
The road toward Gangwon Province was as clear as could be.
“...”
Cultural Industry Advancement Act
It was the firework of an issue announcing July.
A bill that shook the entire cultural industry.
No matter which loop I went through, no matter how much chaos I stirred up, it was always introduced. Whenever I looped in Korea, it was an event I inevitably ran into.
The timing varied a little, but this loop was on the early side. Still, it would definitely be announced by the second week of July.
It was blatant, state-led sprout-trampling. They were openly opening up the M&A market and kicking away the ladder. It was the process of reshaping the culture industry to suit their taste.
The handiwork of monsters who deceived people...
The one who introduced the bill was always the same, too.
“...”
Just once.
I had actually seen him in person.
It was not, to say the least, a pleasant meeting.
“...”
The terrifying older brothers who had covered my mouth used to call him this:
Alpha.
That made Dr. Jang turn to look at me in surprise.
“Huh, now that’s a nickname I haven’t heard in ages.”
“You know it?”
“Of course. It was that bastard Myeong Gi-jun’s nickname when he was young.”
“...”
“It’s too good a nickname for that bastard. Once he started acting like a lawmaker after being a secretary to some conglomerate chairman, nobody called him that anymore, so I’d forgotten. Must be embarrassing to have had that kind of past, huh? Wiping ass in the back room and all that?”
His mockery just kept going.
Before I knew it, I asked, “Do you know Assemblyman Myeong Gi-jun from when he was called Alpha?”
“...”
Dr. Jang looked out the passenger-side window. He worked his mouth for a long moment, then said flatly. The smile that had been hanging at the corner of his mouth just a moment ago was gone.
“He was a terrifying bastard.”
“...”
*
We arrived at a local theater in a city in Gangwon Province. The owner was a middle-aged man with a completely bald head. The moment he saw Dr. Jang, he shouted at the top of his lungs.
“Professor Jang! It’s really been ages! How many years has it been? Twenty? Thirty? Wow... Professor, why have you gotten so old?”
Eyes glistening, he pulled Dr. Jang into a hug.
Dr. Jang chuckled and slapped him on the back.
“Haha, Chang-pil, you’ve gotten a lot older too.”
“Well, time has passed.”
“At this rate, if we have a drink, I won’t even know who’s the older brother anymore.”
“Come on, that’s not true.”
“Hahaha!”
Dr. Jang pointed at me and said, “This is the friend I told you about.”
I greeted the theater owner.
“Hello. I’m Seonwoo Taek.”
“This is the kid I mentioned.”
“Ah! The one looking for a performance venue...! But why come all the way out here instead of doing it in Seoul?”
“...”
We were here to handle the theater situation.
I’d thought Colorful Star would be outside the scope of the bill’s regulations, but I hadn’t expected it to get hit from some other angle and shut its doors in a hurry instead of the twenty-billion-won issue.
Dr. Jang did the explaining.
“That bill’s got everyone in an uproar these days. Every theater and performance hall in Seoul has locked its doors and gone to ground. The only places at peace are those certified as regional facilities.”
“Ah, yes. We’d originally been fully booked because July is our peak season, but everybody suddenly hurried off and emptied out their reservations. We’re a regional cultural facility, so we’re not actually subject to the regulations, but...”
A small independent theater in a regional city.
A place used for concerts and local events.
That was why, even though it wasn’t directly targeted by the bill, it had still taken a hit.
The owner let out a sigh.
“What a mess this has all become.”
“...”
“Ah! Anyway, we’re extremely open right now. You can book any date you want through the end of July.”
“I see.”
“But... as you can see, the theater itself is a bit narrow and old. Something on the scale of a full orchestra or a musical would be difficult.”
“...”
Sure enough.
As he said, the theater was small and worn down. At best, it was suitable for a small recital or a screening. The sound equipment, at least, was fairly clean compared to the venue’s size.
But this is enough.
I looked at the theater owner.
“This is enough. Would it be possible to rent it?”
“Yes, well... absolutely. But what kind of performance is it?”
“I’m planning to screen high-definition video in real time. I’d be transmitting footage recorded in a studio in Seoul.”
“Ah, I see. So you’re holding an opera viewing party.”
“No.”
“?”
“It’s for VTubers.”
“V-VTubers...? What’s that?”
“People I support.”
...
What I wanted was a live viewing.
Using the independent theaters and performance halls connected through Dr. Jang’s network, I bought them up and put them to use. I was building a base where fans from across the country could gather.
No matter where they are, no matter what they’re doing...
I wanted to build a network the bill couldn’t touch, so people could keep supporting them. A refuge hidden in the cracks of the law.
“...”
“...”
“...”
After a moment of silence, Dr. Jang chuckled and said, “President Seonwoo’s a little unusual. He suddenly opens a convenience store, then turns around and says he’s really the head of an investment company.... Just take it as it comes, Chang-pil. He’s like a natural disaster.”
“...Hah.”
I looked at them and said the signature line I could only use in this loop.
“Exactly. I’m a money-scattering natural disaster.”
“?”
...
They tilted their heads in confusion.
But after I finished the contracts and arrangements, I headed straight for the next destination. Gyeonggi Province, Gangwon Province, Chungcheong Province, Jeolla Province, Gyeongsang Province... and finally Jeju Island.
Independent theaters: 21
Art cinemas: 3
Small performance halls: 14
Cultural centers: 12
All over the country.
I inspected the small facilities that had emptied out in the wake of the bill.
Some had been passed down through families or acquired by new owners who didn’t know Dr. Jang. And I visited places that had no connection to Dr. Jang’s network at all.
Even so, they all welcomed me.
-Then that works out for us.
-For rentals, that’s more than enough...
-We’ve done events like that a few times.
And then, back to Seoul.
I ran to buy up the infrastructure that had been left empty.
“...”
The last of the Big Plan A I could still watch over.
For the summer day when the yellow star would shine.
I muttered toward the star hidden behind the clouds for a moment.
Just naturally...
Please keep acting the way you are now.
“...”
We made a promise, after all.
*
Friday evening.
Representative Baek Su-cheol, Choi Ye-seo, and Aki were talking at the company. It wasn’t a personal conversation, but a meeting about the direction of future broadcasts.
Baek Su-cheol let out a heavy sigh. His white suit was damp with sweat.
“Hah... for now, the announcement canceling the live has gone out without a hitch. Fortunately, it was canceled before we even opened ticket reservations, so we won’t need to process refunds. Still, the mood is terrible.”
“...”
Aki nodded heavily.
“I think everyone’s anxious.”
“The whole industry is in a temporary suspension state, so the atmosphere is grim. We’re all so swamped that I went ahead and canceled this week’s Big Plan planning session, too.”
“...”
Aki’s eyes wavered.
She had thought she would make the fans happy with the lessons and content preparation she’d kept up all this time. Instead, all that was left was the anxiety of barely surviving in the middle of a storm.
If you’re not on stage, an idol is useless...
Baek Su-cheol pointed out another problem.
“Since the live got canceled, we’re going to have to reorganize all the merch and promotional plans, too. We can’t exactly just scatter them on the ground, so we’ll have to store them in the warehouse for now... but who knows when we’ll be able to use them again?”
“...”
“...”
All that preparation over the course of a month.
The aftereffects of the cancellation were too severe.
Just having the materials on hand was a burden.
But there was no reason to scatter them.
“Even if we try to do something offline, every place has locked its doors and hidden away because of the bill. And no matter how much we say it’s okay online, everyone’s still anxious...”
“...”
“...”
There was no answer. When the system had stopped, throwing money at it didn’t produce a response. It was already becoming impossible to keep planning Big Plan events.
“...”
“...”
“...”
Ye-seo spoke carefully.
“How about reopening Doda PC Cafe or Bariri Land next week? I heard the interior work on the facilities is still unfinished.”
“Bariri Land?”
“Um...”
It was a suggestion to make use of what already existed.
“If we don’t do anything like this, all that’ll be left is empty consolation. We have money and infrastructure. I don’t think we should just sit still.”
“That’s true.”
“It would be better to look for something we can show, just like we’ve been doing. And...”
Ye-seo glanced at Aki. It must have been hard to say this to the girl who had been the most passionate person in every lesson session for the past year, preparing live performances with all her heart.
“The live, the live... without a venue, it’s difficult, but if we prepare somehow... we could at least do it as a broadcast, like a showcase.”
“I’m fine with it, unni.”
Aki smiled brightly.
“We’re VTubers, after all. A broadcast is a perfectly good stage. There are so many people who can’t even do that right now.”
“Yeah... but.”
What you’d prepared...
But as if she understood everything without needing to hear it, she gave a steady answer.
“It’s okay. Let’s just do what we can.”
“...Yeah.”
The two of them fell silent.
“...”
“...”
In the end, it was Baek Su-cheol who wrapped things up.
“A-alright. Let’s stop here for today. Like A-yeong said, chewing on this all night isn’t going to change anything.”
“Representative...”
“Get some sleep and come back. Let’s talk again tomorrow.”
He flashed a playful grin.
“Oh? What, are you staying because you don’t want to work on the weekend? I was about to go hang out with my son, you know.”
“...”
“...”
Aki and Ye-seo snorted.
“No, it’s okay. We’re heading out now. A-yeong, you’re coming with us, right?”
“I’m... going to the convenience store...”
“Ah, right.”
Ye-seo nodded.
She didn’t ask why Aki was still working part-time. She had already dimly sensed that it had become one of the pillars holding her life together.
“Then we’ll head back.”
“Take care, boss.”
“Yeah, you two be careful.”
As Ye-seo packed up her bag, she flinched.
“Ah, right. I left my phone in the editing room.”
“Then I’ll go first, unni.”
“Oh, okay!”
Ye-seo hurried upstairs to the editing room, and Aki bowed politely before leaving the company.
Baek Su-cheol sighed in the quiet meeting room.
“Hoo...”
Then he hung his head.
“...”
Even after meeting the miracle called Bigman, he felt pathetic for only being able to do this much.
“I’ve had terrible luck since way back. I should’ve just had my sister perform the exorcism before the live.”
No.
He would get the exorcism next week.
He was done with anything else bad-luck-related.
“Still, five hundred million won a session is way too expensive, sis...”
“Don’t worry too much, Representative.”
“Wah?!“
Ye-seo had somehow come back already.
“Oh, jeez! You scared me! Did you use some kind of footwork or something?”
“F-footwork? The editing room is right around the corner, so I just came right back.”
“Oh...”
“By the way, you’re getting the exorcism next week?”
“Huh? Yeah... I’ve got to have my sister come in and shake off this bad luck.”
“That’s total superstition.”
“At this point, the only things we can trust are Bigman and superstition. Besides, it’s coming out of my own pocket, so don’t worry about it.”
Baek Su-cheol brushed at his white suit.
“I keep wearing this damn mourning suit, and it feels like the bad luck’s getting worse... Starting tomorrow, I’m just going to wear my regular clothes again.”
“Heh... It honestly didn’t suit you.”
“Hey, Assistant Manager Choi, you can at least say that much?”
“Heehee...”
Just as they were about to say good-bye, Baek Su-cheol’s phone rang.
Niriliya—!
“!”
“!”
He looked down at his phone. An unknown number was calling.
“What is it?”
“Isn’t it spam?”
“It’s not a local area code, it’s a mobile number.”
“These days spam calls come in like that too.”
“Yeah, but I should still check.”
“If it’s voice phishing, I’ll tell you. Turn the volume up a bit.”
“Got it.”
Baek Su-cheol turned the volume up and answered.
“Hello. This is Representative Baek Su-cheol.”
-“Greetings. It’s my first time speaking with you, Representative.”
“?”
A young man spoke very politely on the other end of the line.
But it was a voice he had never heard before.
Baek Su-cheol tilted his head.
“Excuse me, but who is this?”
“...”
He answered.
“...”
“...”
Baek Su-cheol dropped the phone.
Thud—
“...”
“...”
God had called directly.