Get to Work

"…Global Match?"

"I'd originally meant to tell you over a drink when you came out to LA, but my friend Ryu is such a busy man. Haha. Since there's no telling when you'll drop by, and the folks at BWGS are getting restless, I decided to call you myself."

Yeon-woo nodded as he read through the email Bernard Fenton had sent.

BWGS. Blue Whale Gate — I've heard of them more than once.

Blue Whale Gate, the company that had extended the offer through Bernard Fenton, was a global production house famous for its high success rate with the shows it launched. A considerable number of the flagship programs currently airing on major American networks were their work.

"Still, I never expected Blue Whale to buy the format."

"Hmm, that surprised me too. They're usually the type that develops their own projects and sells them."

"Then the scale and the whole approach will probably change completely from the domestic version of the survival show."

"Now that you mention it, you're right. Even I, after watching Survival Island, had business ideas bubbling up left and right — so if it's those creative types, they'll reinvent it inventively."

Listening to Bernard Fenton, Yeon-woo finished his mental calculations in a flash.

He didn't know how much they'd paid for the format, but given Blue Whale Gate's size, the sum wouldn't have been a burden. From their perspective, TVM was probably some obscure little Asian broadcaster they'd never even heard of.

Hmm. Blue Whale Gate and TVM… the weight classes don't match at all.

Having sorted his thoughts, Yeon-woo spoke.

"Bernard. In that case, what they ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠really want probably isn't the Survival Island format itself, is it? Celebrities playing a survival game is a concept you can use ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠perfectly well without importing a format."

As he listened to Bernard Fenton, Yeon-woo had a strong hunch that what John McCallan, CEO of Blue Whale Gate, actually wanted wasn't the program format they'd bought from Korea — it was Yeon-woo himself.

Commercial films built around death-match concepts had originated in Japan and the United States, after all. When PD Yoon Chang-joon first explained the show's concept to Yeon-woo, he'd even cited several foreign films to help him understand how they'd shaped the idea.

It's hard to claim copyright on an entertainment format of this kind.

Moreover, a company like Blue Whale Gate would strip everything down to the bare bones and rebuild it anyway — which made importing the format even less necessary. What they needed, then, wasn't Survival Island itself, but the symbolic weight of its inaugural champion: the player named Ryu Yeon-woo.

If I somehow overperform, that's fine in its own way. And if I get eliminated by another country's representative, it won't feel like a spin-off of the original show — it'll feel like a higher league.

Making Global Match feel like it sat above Survival Island, not beside it — that was very likely what they wanted.

On the other end of the line, Bernard Fenton laughed as he grasped what Yeon-woo was driving at.

"Hahaha. And here I thought I'd soaked up enough ocean breeze on Santa Monica Beach to walk around Hollywood with my shoulders squared — turns out I missed the important part. Ryu's sharper than I am. These aren't blue whales — they're cunning orcas."

Bernard Fenton paused to catch his breath, then continued.

"In that case, it looks like we'll need to negotiate with BWGS. If Ryu is inclined to join Global Match…"

"No need to say it twice. Of course I'll leave the negotiations entirely to you, Bernard."

Bernard Fenton laughed heartily, clearly pleased.

"That's why talking with Ryu is always so easy — no haggling, no fuss. The longer you live in this business, the rarer it becomes to find someone you can speak to openly."

Yeon-woo felt the same. Saebyeol didn't have a pool of staff it could dispatch overseas, and even if it did, would they be able to hold their own among the hardened veterans of Hollywood? Even if Bernard Fenton took a commission as middleman, his very presence was pure profit at this stage.

"Then let's save the details for later, once things have progressed a bit further."

The day after receiving the casting proposal from Bernard Fenton, Yeon-woo came to the Saebyul Building for a meeting, and CEO Jeong Hyeok handed him a document.

"I've cut most of the casting offers at my level, but I thought Actor Ryu should look at this one himself."

Yeon-woo took the papers and tilted his head.

"Is this from Hollywood? Things couldn't have moved that fast."

"Pardon? Hollywood?"

Judging by Jeong Hyeok's reaction, it clearly hadn't come from Bernard Fenton.

"Ah — I'll explain that in a moment. Let me read what you've given me first."

Yeon-woo shifted his gaze to the document in his hands.

Hmm? A judge for a scenario contest…

Yeon-woo stroked his chin at the unexpected offer written on the page. Watching him, Jeong Hyeok nodded and continued.

"I thought Actor Ryu might find it interesting, so I brought it over myself."

Even when a project wasn't one he was starring in, Yeon-woo routinely sat in the third-floor café and read every scenario that came into the company. And Jeong Hyeok held Yeon-woo's eye for scripts ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in high regard — partly because CEO Kim Ju-seong had advised him to pay close attention to Yeon-woo's instincts, but more than anything because the results spoke for themselves.

Every scenario Actor Ryu has picked so far has been a massive hit.

Of course, whether the people at the Film Council thought the same way was another matter. Yeon-woo himself zeroed in on the opening line of the proposal's summary.

They sent this because I was selected as the No. 1 actor most beloved by the 20–49 younger generation…

Unpacked, it simply meant: please be our face so the contest can draw a crowd.

Well, I don't really care how they think of it.

He'd been thinking Saebyeol Media needed its own storytellers soon enough — and a contest like this might hold an uncut gem. And if there was a gem no one else had spotted, the golden rule was always to snatch it up first.

Hmm. If things go well, I might even land a film for my next project.

Still studying the papers, Yeon-woo spoke.

"CEO, have you reviewed this? Where do the copyrights for the contest submissions end up?"

"Hmm? Min-jeong. What's the situation with the copyrights?"

At Yeon-woo's question, Jeong Hyeok looked over at Gong Min-jeong.

"One moment. Mm — winning works grant the council exclusive negotiation rights for two years, and rejected works are free for open contracts."

"That works. Accepting this won't strain the schedule, will it?"

"Well, there's no fixed schedule to speak of, and they said attendance can be flexible, so the time commitment shouldn't be a problem. The only concern is that those people are such sticklers — you might accept in good faith and end up with nothing but a sour mood…"

Yeon-woo nodded at Jeong Hyeok's words.

"I've never dealt with the Film Council directly, but I've heard plenty from people around me, so I have a fair idea of what to expect."

"Hmm. Well, if you're prepared, that's a relief."

Jeong Hyeok tilted his head as he looked at Yeon-woo.

"By the way — what was that about Hollywood earlier?"

"Ah…"

Yeon-woo briefly explained the conversation he'd had with Bernard Fenton the night before. The news seemed as unexpected as the judging proposal Jeong Hyeok had just delivered; the CEO's eyes went round.

"What? Global Match? I heard TVM had signed a supply deal with Netflix, but I never imagined they'd scale it up like this… Are you going to participate?"

"Well, I'm inclined to join, but I think I need to lay some groundwork first."

"Groundwork?"

Yeon-woo grinned and continued.

"Since it's clear they want me, we need to drive up my price. First — all those outlets requesting interviews about Survival Island?"

"Oh, we've got a truckload of those."

"I should do some interviews. Something along the lines of: filming Survival Island was physically grueling, and as an actor I want to avoid having a particular image lock in — so if there's a follow-up season, I'm leaning toward not appearing…"

Jeong Hyeok grinned right back.

"So the interviews are a letter to Hollywood."

Yeon-woo nodded. Production news for Global Match hadn't been reported yet, so he needed to get ahead of it and raise his value first.

They bought the rights to Survival Island and planned it under the same title, so of course they assumed the inaugural champion would come as a package deal…

He was going to be stepping onto the global stage more and more — the first button had to be fastened properly. The fee he commanded now would set the tone for every offer that came after.

Yeon-woo stacked the papers in front of him and glanced at the desk ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠calendar off to one side.

"Both the contest judging and Global Match are still a ways off, so let's leave the discussion here for now… And look at that — it's today. With programs stacking up back to back, we've ended up holding a viewing party every week."

The staff nodded.

"We don't mind at all."

"Honestly, even if it weren't a premiere, I'd want to do this every week with whoever's free. Gathering at night is pretty fun…"

Parabola was set to premiere that evening. Strictly speaking, the drama itself was a fairly standard youth sports story — but that was exactly what made it special: among recently aired dramas, there hadn't been a single youth sports piece.

I put a lot of groundwork in place to make sure it succeeds…

Survival Island had been a variety show Yeon-woo agreed to appear on specifically to boost Parabola's success — and somehow it had expanded overseas, leaving the tail wagging the dog.

"And around the time Parabola airs, there's that project we planned to shoot."

Yeon-woo looked at Gong Min-jeong, who nodded and pulled out documents to distribute to everyone at the meeting.

"But… is this really okay?"

"Of course. If you're a signed actor, you ought to work hard, shouldn't you?"

Gong Min-jeong looked at Yeon-woo and broke into a cold sweat. A steely determination to work people to the bone seemed to be shooting straight out of his eyes. And it wasn't just her imagination — the projects lined up ahead were endless. Even setting aside Global Match and the contest judging, which were Yeon-woo's own affairs, the activities of the other signed actors still needed managing.

Lately it feels like I've been the only one working…

Each actor needed their own projects, and the YouTube channel SaebyeolTube — which hadn't had any real activity since Saebyeol Family — needed to be run hard as well.

Yeon-woo looked down at the document for the project closest at hand. Filming would start in just two days.

Yeon-woo looked at the proposal and smiled quietly to himself.

He's discharged in two days — time to get to work.