Episode 6 — Why Does This Even Work? (1)
Episode 6.
After winding this way and that, we arrive at the Director's office of KSM's Drama Department.
Director Hwang Gwang-pyo, who had watched the audition video for the role of Muyoung in The Spy and I all the way to the end, turned toward PD Min Byung-dae with a pleased smile on his face.
The man in the video he had just watched still lingered in his mind.
An actor by the name of Han Seol — that was what Min Byung-dae had called him.
Director Hwang Gwang-pyo felt a strong premonition that this rookie, whose name he didn't even recognize yet, would become the spark that set fire to KSM's drama scene, which had been sputtering along in stagnation for the past year.
"Whew... Byung-dae. I honestly can't remember the last time a single video — no, two videos — got my heart pounding like this."
That was how engrossing the footage had been: Director Hwang Gwang-pyo, who since his promotion hadn't once dropped the stiff "jage" he used with subordinates, was now calling PD Min Byung-dae casually by name.
Of course, this was anything but bad news for Min Byung-dae.
Being addressed with such warmth meant the situation was flowing in a decidedly positive direction — he could have allowed himself a quiet celebration right then and there.
Except there were still a few things he hadn't told the Director.
"The footage turned out great, didn't it?"
"You're asking me? You know as well as I do that, by any reasonable standard, a scene like this is impossible in the Korean drama industry."
"Exactly. Normally, you'd have to ride a major outsourced production company hard just to squeeze out a five-second cut at this quality — if you were lucky."
"That's it, exactly! Wait, no — if you could pull this off all along, why didn't you ever do it before?"
Director Hwang Gwang-pyo couldn't keep the corners of his mouth down, firing off question after question.
But PD Min Byung-dae thought: here it comes.
From the start, his plan had been to feed Director Hwang all these delicious videos first, then settle the score — so this was exactly the right timing.
"Actually, there's a small problem I need to mention."
"Oh, oh, yes. Go ahead, take your time."
Whatever this "small problem" turned out to be, Director Hwang Gwang-pyo had already resolved to help Min Byung-dae to the fullest with this project, arms wide open.
This was the PD who had delivered an unforgettable, masterful scene — one that burned itself into memory after a single viewing.
The savior of KSM's Drama Department had just walked in carrying footage that would make MBS convulse and SBC faint dead away. What couldn't he possibly do for him?
But what followed was something entirely outside the range of Director Hwang's expectations.
"The truth is... no editing was used here."
"Hm? What do you mean? The audition footage?"
"No, sir. You know the truck scene at the beginning? That was shot in a single long take."
"A long take...?"
As Director Hwang's voice trailed off, PD Min Byung-dae watched him nervously, gauging his reaction.
But contrary to what he'd braced himself for, Director Hwang simply patted Min Byung-dae on the shoulder with an expression of partial understanding.
"Byung-dae, don't be discouraged."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Sure, an actor being so insanely good can make a video turn out well. But drawing that kind of performance out of an actor — that's a PD's skill too. Just for producing footage like this, I respect you. This, this — I've clearly been sleeping on you all this time. You're the real deal..."
"Ahem. I don't think you quite understand yet, sir."
"Hm?"
A long take.
As in, no editing?
And as the words began to sink in, Director Hwang Gwang-pyo slowly started to notice that something about Min Byung-dae's expression was very strange indeed.
A long take meant the scene had been captured in one uninterrupted shot — no cut-to-cut trickery whatsoever.
And if he hadn't misheard a moment ago, then surely...
"No editing at all?"
"No, sir."
"Shot in a single take?"
"Yes."
"So that means..."
"..."
"That truck was real?"
"Yes."
From that moment, a heavy silence settled over the Director's office.
The silence lasted only a few seconds, but to Min Byung-dae it felt like an immeasurably long eon of torment.
And then, shortly after—
"MIN BYUNG-DAE, ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!!"
Director Hwang Gwang-pyo's roar tore straight through the Director's office's thick soundproofing and rang out across KSM's entire Drama Department.
"Whew..."
Director Hwang Gwang-pyo only calmed down thanks to the employees who had flung open the office door — apparently half hoping an assassination was in progress.
"So. You're telling me this footage is an accident footage?"
"Yes."
"Yes, yes — stop just answering me and explain it so I can actually understand. And you'd better explain it properly, because right now I'm seriously debating whether or not to pull out an incident report form with your name on it."
Once he'd confirmed that all the employees who had crowded in had returned to their desks, Min Byung-dae faced Director Hwang Gwang-pyo with a tense expression.
The dice had already been thrown. All he could do now was give it his best shot — persuade the Director, and make his case for the actor named Han Seol.
"Director, do you know how KSM is being treated these days?"
The most boring channel on terrestrial television.
Variety programming was keeping the station on life support, but the audience's appetite was overwhelmingly for dramas — and the moment KSM started losing the drama ratings war, the whole network had no choice but to spiral downward.
"Look at what MBS and SBC have been doing lately. MBS is going all-in, bloodshot eyes and all, preparing to launch one massive historical epic. And SBC is scrambling to counter it, gluing together a patchwork of outsourced production companies to pump out a drama of their own — aren't they?"
"I know. I know all that. What does it have to do with this?"
"Does it seem irrelevant to you? Think carefully, sir. Recall the trend of the budgets that have been coming down to the Drama Department lately."
Around a year ago, when Director Hwang Gwang-pyo first took office as head of the Drama Department, the three broadcasters had been standing shoulder to shoulder, each carving out their own slice of the pie with their drama lineups.
Naturally, drama budgets back then had been generous.
Whatever the concept, whatever the project, it had to be competitive enough not to be devoured by the other two stations — so even a moderate deficit was factored in and tolerated.
But now?
"Do you remember how much budget was allocated for this The Spy and I? You approved it yourself, sir."
"...How much was it?"
"Two point two billion won."
At Min Byung-dae's words, Director Hwang Gwang-pyo found himself speechless.
These days, productions spending two billion won per episode were far from rare.
And in that climate, ordering a twelve-episode slot-filler drama to be produced for 2.2 billion total — wasn't that simply too harsh?
"Even so, I just accepted it. Frankly, I'd been hearing 'washed-up has-been' so often I was sick of it, and when I heard KSM was preparing a big flagship project, I figured I'd simply play my part as a stepping stone on the way there."
Against rivals with blockbuster projects already on the horizon, there was no way he could hope to compete.
If you were barely managing to scrape by with a pistol here while your opponent rolled up with a tank, what on earth were you supposed to win with?
To absorb the enemy's fire and wear them down, even if it meant being the bullet sponge.
That was the whole intent behind this The Spy and I — and the ultimate purpose of KSM that even Min Byung-dae had accepted.
But now—
"We've come into some weapons, sir."
"You mean that footage?"
"Yes. Roughly speaking, that should be worth a heavy artillery piece, even if it's not quite a tank, don't you think?"
At PD Min Byung-dae's words, Director Hwang Gwang-pyo frowned and quietly stroked his chin.
There was a certain credibility to what Min Byung-dae was saying.
This had never been a fair fight to begin with — it was one-sided through and through.
Forget defending KSM's ratings; this was a guerrilla war launched purely to siphon away even a sliver of MBS's and SBC's audiences. It was a fight where gambling cost him nothing.
And besides—
"We also have actor Han Seol now, don't we?"
"Hmm..."
The audition video Min Byung-dae had shown him flickered through Director Hwang's mind.
The preternatural acting contained within it was far too deep to be the work of some rookie actor.
The eyes, if it was the eyes. The voice, if it was the voice.
Down to the last inflection and gesture, the actor had fused completely with his character — for a broadcaster to pass on talent like that, what opportunity could possibly be more wasteful?
Heavy artillery had just been added to a fight that had started with a pistol.
And the mercenary handling that pistol and that artillery was none other than a genuine master of his craft.
"Proceed."
"...I'm sorry?"
"Dammit, didn't you hear me? Do I need to say it again?"
At Director Hwang's words, PD Min Byung-dae stared at him with a slack-jawed, foolish expression.
"The Spy and I — take that footage and make this drama properly, for once."
"Are you serious, sir?"
"You brought that scene in because it was too good to throw away, didn't you?"
"W-well, yes?"
"Then do it."
"You're really serious?!"
Even with permission granted, Min Byung-dae kept double-checking.
And reading the intent behind his persistence, Director Hwang waved both hands dismissively, as if to say you know what to do, and repeated himself.
"Yes, you rascal, yes! If anything goes wrong, I'll take full responsibility — so proceed!"
"That's the word I was waiting for! I promise you won't be disappointed!"
At last, production of The Spy and I had truly begun.
Moreover, now that he'd decided to throw his full weight behind it, Director Hwang Gwang-pyo resolved to push Min Byung-dae even harder.
"I'll try to pull in some additional budget for you as well. Do me proud."
"You won't regret it."
"By the way, there's one thing I'm curious about."
At Director Hwang's question, PD Min Byung-dae kept his guard up and met his gaze.
"That kid — Han Seol, was it? — the role he played. Muyoung or whatever it was."
"Yes. Is something the matter...?"
"Is he really just an extra?"
It was the one thing that had kept nagging at Director Hwang throughout their entire conversation.
After all, a large share of the reason he was willing to risk airing an accident scene and pump in extra budget was that actor named Han Seol, with his monstrous performance.
"That's... still under consideration, actually..."
"Expand his part. A lot. If it comes to it, I don't mind bumping him all the way up to supporting cast."
"...He's a rookie, sir."
"Rookie or not, is that the important thing right now? For that matter, isn't your current lead an idol? The script's been torn up and rewritten a dozen times already — of course you ride the one who can actually act."
"...Fair point."
Min Byung-dae nodded at Director Hwang's words.
He would need to consult with the writer, of course — but knowing Ryu Soo-min as he had come to, the odds were good she'd welcome the idea with both eyes blazing.
"Pay Han Seol properly. Make sure his fee is handled right. Acting ability like that at his age means he's destined for great things. What a waste it would be to pinch pennies on your strongest card and let another network snatch him away, no?"
"Understood, sir."
After Min Byung-dae exited the Director's office with a playful salute, Director Hwang replayed the footage he'd just been shown, studying Han Seol's acting over and over.
Today marked exactly one year since he'd had his fortune read by that uncannily accurate shaman.
Perhaps today would be the day the second golden age of his life arrived.
About a week had passed since my audition for the role of Muyoung in The Spy and I.
[Web Message]
Congratulations, Mr. Han Seol. You have been selected as a PASS for the role of Muyoung in KSM's special project drama, The Spy and I.
☆ A staff member (Assistant Director: Cho Eun-bi) will contact you shortly. Please study the script we will be sending via email carefully before the first script reading...
...
"I... I did it."
The moment I confirmed the acceptance text, the knot of anxiety that had lodged deep in my chest melted away like snow, and something hot came rushing in to fill the empty space.
The profession I had dreamed of my entire previous life: actor.
That profession — the one that draws out people's emotions through words and expressions — had, through one accident of fate piled upon another, landed in my hands.
"A-hahaha! I'm an actor now! So what if it's a bit part?!"
It didn't matter if I didn't have many lines. Just standing beside the protagonist with a blank expression on my face would have been enough.
The simple fact of being able to stand before the public and act, unashamed.
That alone sent a thrill through me — that alone made me happy.
I began rapidly reading through the second half of the text message that had come flying my way.
And then, at the bottom of the schedule rundown, something caught my eye — a character profile that was somehow both familiar and unfamiliar.
"Why would they send me this aga... Hm?"
It was Muyoung's profile — the one I'd practically memorized by heart right before the audition.
But something was different.
"Hmmm?"
<Muyoung>
Appearance: Tall, handsome face, with a burn scar on his back from childhood.
Description: Lee Hye-in's bodyguard and a man who loves and resents her in equal measure. Once Kim Ha-jin's friend, he now stands opposed to him as a rival, each fighting for his own sense of justice. Abandoned by his parents as a child...
...
It seemed revisions had been made — descriptions edited, details added.
But more than anything else, what seized my attention was the single word written at the very bottom.
.
.
.
Right up until the day before the first script reading of The Spy and I,
I was convinced it had to be a typo.