Connections

Meanwhile, word of Survival Island began spreading overseas little by little, starting online.

It first circulated through illegal downloads, and soon amateur subtitlers began attaching subtitles.

It wasn't that foreign netizens wanted to watch illegally; with no official service available, they simply had no other choice.

TVM's Chief of Variety Han Joong-cheol sat lost in thought in the variety department, watching the live broadcast alongside PD Yoon Chang-joon and the rest of the staff.

"Hmmm…"

The ratings for Survival Island had already hit 9.2 percent the previous week.

At this rate, it might even reach the double digits regarded as the holy grail for cable variety shows.

No—it will.

He had never expected it to do this well in the first place.

He had been content simply with the modest marketing boost that came from Ryu Yeon-woo joining the cast.

Yet thanks to Yeon-woo's performance soaring far beyond the chief's expectations, the ratings had continued their steady climb.

And according to PD Yoon, the unaired later portions are even more spectacular than what's aired so far.

He had no idea where Yeon-woo had picked up such skills, but he knew full well that this was the moment the tide was coming in.

He was also perfectly aware that his subordinates whispered behind his back that he had grown old and lost his touch, that he was stingy whenever a project required real money.

What can you do? There are hardships only the person in the seat can understand.

When PD Yoon Chang-joon first submitted the proposal, Han had nearly tossed it straight into the trash because it looked certain to devour the production budget.

A broadcast station's budget was finite. What else could he do?

But the day the proposal landed happened to be a Monday regular meeting in which TVM's variety department had been chewed out to produce fresher, more diverse concepts and broaden its spectrum—so in a fit of irritation he had given the okay.

Who knew it would turn into this kind of jackpot.

Chief Han checked his email inbox on his smartphone, tapping the desk with one finger.

"Hmmm…"

Then he nodded as if reaching a decision.

"Alright. Let's go, Chang-joon. When the tide comes in, you row."

"Sir?"

Yoon Chang-joon, who had been tilting his head at the chief who kept sighing even while ratings soared, turned at the sudden remark.

"Go ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠where, sir?"

"To Netflix."

"What?"

TVM had its own OTT platform, Grand M, operated by an affiliate, so its programs had been locked there and unable to reach Netflix.

But Chief Han judged that with success of this magnitude, even if he had to persuade the executives, putting the show on the world stage was the correct call.

Netflix Korea had already reached out after catching the scent of those high ratings, and with Yeon-woo's international name recognition already respectable, he made up his mind to push for Netflix.

"They're already watching it overseas through illegal downloads anyway. That won't do."

"True enough, but… will the board and management give permission? Honestly, even knowing they can't compete, they still block Netflix advances somehow for the sake of the domestic market."

"Hey, Chang-joon. I'm Han Joong-cheol. When something looks doable, you push it like a rhino's horn."

Meanwhile, thanks to the chief's decisive push, Survival Island was already riding the fast current toward Netflix, and the episode of Yeon-woo and the rope team's nail-biting tug-of-war was airing.

Looking at the terrain, this seems to be the stretch where they climbed to the northern tip of the island and secured the hit-count reset ticket.

On screen it was framed as if the swarming alliance team and Yeon-woo had brushed past each other at close range, but that was impossible.

He had anticipated their movements to a reasonable degree and moved accordingly; if they had truly come that near, Yeon-woo would never have missed it.

In truth, from early on PD Yoon Chang-joon had used clever editing to make it appear Yeon-woo was about to collide with the alliance team, wringing several heart-pounding moments of tension from the audience.

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠power of editing, after all. They ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠call it a real variety show, but only the production team knows how real it actually is.

After making viewers sweat through several close calls, Yeon-woo finally encountered two members of the scattered alliance team while going for a mission box.

And just as the audience expected, Yeon-woo waved his hand broadly to put them at ease and approached.

The camera angle mounted behind him captured every step.

Ten meters.

Five meters.

As the distance closed he hung the rifle from his shoulder, signaling no intent to attack and further relaxing them—until the moment arrived.

In the instant one of them glanced back and said something, Yeon-woo drew the pistol from his waist like lightning.

At the same time he aimed the pistol at the distant man while wrapping an arm around the nearer one, subduing him and using him as a shield.

Bang—.

Tatatang—.

Close-quarters action that could have come straight out of a spy film flowed live over the airwaves without a single cut.

In reality the only camera that had all three in frame was camera 41 behind Yeon-woo, so there had been no room for fancy editing—yet showing the entire sequence in one continuous fixed-camera take only heightened the raw presence of the action.

Internet reactions exploded, and even inside the conference room—where people had long stopped being easily impressed by ordinary action—gasps of admiration burst out.

"At the company he's always sitting quietly on the third floor spacing out and staring out the window, Actor Ryu…"

"Right? There's a word for the charm that comes from such completely different sides."

"It's called gap moe."

At Representative Jeong Hyeok and Executive Director Yoon Mi-yeon's words, Yeon-woo scratched the back of his head.

When he sat in the third-floor café looking out the window, it was a habit of visually checking for any suspicious persons near the building—not spacing out.

Even so, he opened his smartphone and quickly made a note.

Whether it was the force of pushing like a rhino's horn or the wisdom of striking while the iron was hot, permission for the Netflix supply came more easily than Han Joong-cheol had expected.

TVM's board and executives had also been watching the exceptional success of Survival Island with keen interest.

In fact, it would have been strange if they had not.

Among every variety show TVM had produced recently, it boasted the highest ratings, and the buzz only intensified with each successive episode.

Meanwhile, the moment articles appeared announcing that Survival Island would be serviced on Netflix, the drama Parabola also signed a supply contract with Netflix as if it had been waiting for the cue.

Parabola, like Survival Island, aired on TVM, so the affiliate Grand M technically held priority for OTT rights; yet because it was a drama self-produced by Saebyeol Media, TVM saw no reason to raise objections or block the deal.

After the Survival Island viewing party ended and he returned home, Yeon-woo checked the articles about the Netflix supply deals on his smartphone.

While reading the articles, Yeon-woo checked the report Han Hae-un had uploaded.

Hmmm…

Whether it had been a hospitality seat or whether they already possessed separate connections, he could not yet determine; but the fact that Lake Film had arranged a meeting with Netflix staff was, just as Hae-un judged, highly likely for the sake of marketing Daytona, which was only about a month from airing.

And Lake Film's backer was unmistakably Baeksol.

"Then I should use my connections as well."

Yeon-woo glanced at his watch.

Two-thirty in the morning. That makes it ten-thirty a.m. local time. Perfect.

Yeon-woo dialed a number on his smartphone.

After a few rings, his "friend" in LA picked up.

"Oh! Mr. Ryu. Long time no see?"

"Mr. Fenton. Have you been well? Nothing much going on?"

The man Yeon-woo had called was Bernard Fenton, the one who had handled global distribution for White Blood.

"Lately I've been losing sleep watching Survival Island. I never knew Mr. Ryu had talents like that, but you were flying around out there."

"Ah, you watched it too, Mr. Fenton? Since it's a show I appeared in, you must have made a special effort to keep up. Thank you for the concern."

"Haha, I didn't make any special effort. It's quite popular in America these days—didn't you know? My grandson watches it every single day."

At Bernard Fenton's words, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Yeon-woo nodded as if mildly surprised.

"Is that so? It's doing fairly well domestically, but I didn't realize there was interest overseas as well. By the way, since it still isn't officially serviced abroad, the fact that you watched it means… perhaps illegal down—"

"Ahem ahem. It's being serviced on our Netflix now, isn't it? I simply checked it in advance."

Bernard Fenton played along with Yeon-woo's teasing.

Smiling at the exchange, Yeon-woo moved to the real point.

"By the way, the reason I contacted you is because I need a bit of help from a 'friend'."

"Haha, 'friend'—I like the sound of that. If it's within my power, I'll gladly help."

When making a request, the best approach was to speak plainly so the other party clearly understood exactly what was wanted.

So Yeon-woo cut straight to the chase.

"I recently filmed a basketball-themed sports drama called Parabola, but it seems a competitor is preparing aggressive marketing through Netflix. Their broadcasting station is larger in scale, so I want to overwhelm them at least in the Netflix promotion. Netflix is Mr. Fenton's domain, after all."

Whether he was pleased at the implication that Netflix lay under his influence, or simply happy to receive a request as a friend, Bernard Fenton let out a hearty laugh.

"Kwahahat. A request like that I can grant anytime. In exchange, next time you come to LA, let's have a drink together. Don't go shunning this old man."

"Of course."

"Ah, right. What's the name of that competitor drama?"

"It's SBC's Daytona."

The next day, Lake Film CEO Jeong Yang-gi shot up from his seat while receiving a report.

"What? What the hell are you talking about? I went myself and already greased every wheel—how can the whole thing suddenly fall apart?"

"Well… they unilaterally notified us that on the date you specified there's already a title locked in for the main banner, so it's impossible…"

"What kind of bullshit is that? I clearly got confirmation for that exact date—they said there was no exclusive series that day so they could put up the main ad, even a verbal contract!"

At CEO Jeong Yang-gi's outburst, the employee continued with an awkward expression.

"They say the decision came down from the U.S. headquarters, so even they don't know what happened…"

"Headquarters? Netflix U.S. headquarters?"

"Yes."

"Damn it—did some original series suddenly launch? Why the hell would headquarters suddenly…"

Neither CEO Jeong Yang-gi nor the employee delivering the report ever dreamed that the person who had moved Netflix's American headquarters was the very Parabola from TVM they had not even been paying attention to—and specifically its lead actor, Ryu Yeon-woo.