Chapter 271
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 271
Chapter Title: An Unexpected Upgrade
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“But the weekend ratings are decent...”
“Yes, they're decent. But that's only two days a week. The rest are a total mess!”
The station director snapped at the CP in charge of weekend dramas. Huffing as he looked around at the CPs, the director took a breath to calm himself before speaking.
“Who are the writers on break these days?”
“There's writer So Eunjin, writer Im Hyeryeong, and writer Oh Youngchul.”
The writers they were discussing were star writers, the kind guaranteed to bring in high ratings. The writer currently pulling in the best ratings in the drama scene was So Eunjin.
At that, the director sighed.
“Why can't we bring in a star writer like So Eunjin?”
“The production company she works with, Dandelion, is very close with KBC...”
Dramas produced by Dandelion almost always went to KBC. It seemed to have become a solid arrangement since *The Prosecutor's Reinvestigation* and *The Royal Physician*. If MBS offered more money, they might supply a drama, but KBC wasn't about to let go of the golden goose they had.
But throwing an exorbitant amount of money at production costs was risky; there was no guarantee the drama would be worth it.
“Then we need to find another way.”
A name popped into the director's head.
When you thought of a star writer, you thought of So Eunjin. When you thought of a star PD, you thought of Choi Minseong.
Besides, PD Choi Minseong's name had become known to the general public last December because of the play *The Mirror*. He would be perfect for promoting a drama.
‘But...’
PD Choi Minseong was exclusively affiliated with the production company Dandelion.
“Ugh.”
The director, who had been lost in thought while trying to suppress his rising anger, looked up.
“What about the other writers?”
“We can't get in touch with writer Im Hyeyeong, and writer Oh Youngchul is currently preparing a new project.”
They all answered immediately, as if they had been diligently looking for a way to break the current slump. The director questioned the CP who had worked with writer Oh Youngchul during his PD days.
“How's the script?”
“The plot is good. It has writer Oh Youngchul's signature feel and enough appeal to capture an audience.”
At those words, the other CPs' expressions brightened a little.
“If it's a drama from writer Oh Youngchul, there should be plenty of actors willing to star in it.”
“That's right. We can finally breathe a little.”
“So, is writer Oh working with us?”
“Yes. As long as the writer's fee is reasonable, we can sign a contract as early as tomorrow. But since he's just starting to prepare the script, it'll probably take some time before it can air.”
The director grunted at the CP's words. He was so rushed by the pressure from above that he'd momentarily forgotten about the preparation time needed to produce a drama.
“How long do you think it will take?”
“Probably...”
The CP was lost in thought.
Writer Oh Youngchul worked fast, so the synopsis and script would be ready quickly. And since it was a star writer's project, casting actors would be easy. The hardest part would be securing filming locations, but since the genre was romantic comedy, that wouldn't be too difficult either.
‘We can film a few episodes before the broadcast starts.’
“Even at the earliest, I think the first broadcast won't be until May.”
“May...”
That was only three months and a few weeks away.
The director's and the CPs' minds raced.
“Can we schedule writer Oh's drama for May?”
“The Wednesday-Thursday drama slot starting the week after next is difficult. If we put it on Wednesdays and Thursdays, it could air starting in June.”
“June is too late. We need to show results as soon as possible.”
The director's words sent everyone into deep thought.
“What about the Monday-Tuesday slot?”
“The current show ends in March, and the next one is scheduled to air from April to July.”
After a moment of thought, the director spoke.
“There's something scheduled after this Monday-Tuesday drama, right?”
“Yes. They should be in preparation now.”
“Then let's move that to the Wednesday-Thursday slot. And put writer Oh's project on Mondays and Tuesdays.”
“Then the Monday-Tuesday slot in April will be empty.”
The CP who spoke, as well as the others, understood what the director was thinking. Short dramas were sometimes produced to fill empty time slots when schedules didn't align.
A month in April, two episodes a week. A total of eight episodes.
They could make an eight-episode drama.
“Who's in charge?”
At the director's question, everyone averted their eyes.
An eight-episode drama scheduled to air in April.
No script, no actors, and a production period of only two months and a few weeks.
‘First, we need to find a decent script...’
‘If there was anything decent, it would have been made into a drama already.’
‘Would any actor agree to be in an eight-episode drama?’
Was there a PD who could handle this situation?
Amid the heavy silence, the director tried to coax the CPs.
“I won't pressure you about the ratings. You can just make something decent. I'll give you a reasonable budget, too.”
Still, the meeting room was filled with silence.
One of the CPs, lost in thought, spoke up.
“Then how about we air a series of one-act dramas?”
“One-act dramas?”
It was a term he hadn't heard in a long time.
After losing viewers' interest, they had gradually dwindled, and now only KBC was still airing them.
“Because if we do eight one-act dramas, we can produce them simultaneously.”
“That's not a bad idea...”
“And we have people ready for their directorial debuts.”
The CPs thought of the assistant directors under them. Entrusting them with a 16 or 24-episode drama from the start was too much pressure, so a one-act drama would be just right.
“But isn't eight too many? Our staff is limited...”
“How about making four two-episode dramas, or two four-episode dramas?”
“Hmm.”
That seemed plausible.
The director and the CPs began to lean toward the idea.
***
“Cleaning up by yourself again?”
At the familiar voice, Gong Heechan, an assistant director with seven years of experience, smiled faintly. Seeing him, Kim Danbi, a fourth-year AD, let out a sigh.
“I'll help you. What should I do?”
“It's fine. I just have to move this.”
“Isn't Senior Park supposed to be doing this?”
“Gyumin has a lot on his plate... It's good for whoever has free time to do it.”
“Right.”
‘He's probably busy sucking up to the PDs.’
Swallowing the rest of her thought, Kim Danbi helped Gong Heechan.
Perhaps because of that, rumors were spreading that Park Gyumin would be the first to make his directorial debut. In terms of skill, no one could deny that Gong Heechan, who was chuckling right in front of her, was the best.
‘Senior Gong has such a good eye for projects...’
Every script Gong Heechan had praised ended up with excellent results. The drama currently pulling a 21% rating on KBC was one of them.
‘But he's such a pushover... I mean, he's too nice...’
He was okay with this, he was okay with that.
She didn't know if he ever got properly angry.
“Hey! Gong Heechan!”
Speak of the devil.
Hmm. Kim Danbi looked at Park Gyumin standing in the distance and shook her head. It was an unfair comparison to a cool and dependable tiger.
***
“So, we've decided to air your dramas in the Monday-Tuesday slot in April.”
Assistant directors Gong Heechan and Park Gyumin, who had been summoned by the CP, widened their eyes.
“Uh... both of us?”
Him too, not just me?
The CP tilted his head at Park Gyumin's question.
“Yes. Why? You don't like it? This is your directorial debut.”
Park Gyumin quickly answered the CP.
“No, it's great!”
“I just didn't expect it to be decided so suddenly...”
Gong Heechan scratched his cheek. He had expected his debut was coming soon, but he never thought it would be decided so abruptly.
Seeing the assistant directors' reactions, the CP smiled and continued.
“You'll each air one episode a week for four weeks. So, that's four episodes per project.”
“Four episodes.”
“It airs in April, so you'll have to find scripts and actors starting today. But with your years of experience, you must have a genre or a script or two you've wanted to make for your debut, right?”
“Yes!”
Gong Heechan and Park Gyumin answered at once.
During their time as assistant directors, they had come across more than just one or two scripts they'd loved. Some had caught the eye of other PDs and were produced first, while for others, they worried someone else would snatch them up.
‘Which one should I do?’
Gong Heechan's eyes sparkled as scripts flashed through his mind. Park Gyumin glanced at him sideways.
“No one is expecting high ratings, so relax. But don't go and lose all the viewers we currently have. Opportunities like this are rare, you know? A reasonable budget, four whole episodes to tell a complete story, and no pressure for ratings. What a great chance.”
Watching the assistant directors fidget, eager to go find their scripts, the CP smiled warmly.
“You two are finally graduating from being assistant directors. Do well. PD Gong Heechan, PD Park Gyumin.”
At the CP's words, PD Gong Heechan and PD Park Gyumin beamed.
***
“I wonder if it'll open today?”
Having stopped by the Library of Life again today, Seojun casually pressed his palm against the firmly shut door, just as he always did.
It hadn't responded yesterday, so he figured today would be the same.
But he was wrong.
*Wooooong.*
The library door, sensing the mana accumulated in Seojun's body through his hand, began to hum.
“Oh?”
Startled by the sudden sound, Seojun was about to pull his hand away when he froze at the sight of the glowing door. Light spread out from where his hand touched it. The massive door, which looked to be about three stories high, shimmered, filled with mana.
Unlike the doors to the intermediate and advanced levels, which had opened normally, the high-level door seemed to be different. Seojun's eyes sparkled at the difference.
“Am I finally getting a search function!”
The search function was what he was anticipating the most.
“Please. Please!”
Just as his anticipation was peaking, the library door, which had been putting on a magnificent light show, grew quiet.
Then, the massive door slowly swung outward. Seojun took a couple of steps back as the heavy door opened.
Finally,
the door to the library of high-level abilities was open.
“Forget that, where's the search function!”
Pushing aside his awe, Seojun quickly stepped inside the library.
Seojun entered, his eyes gleaming, ready to turn the place upside down in search of the search function, but he stopped in his tracks after just a few steps.
His eyes widened dramatically at the scene before him.
“...Well. I guess I did need this.”
Seojun couldn't hide his sense of anticlimax at the objects before him.
A plush chair that looked like it would fit his body perfectly, a wooden desk carved with beautiful patterns, a reading stand and a bookmark prepared for reading. There were refreshments to quench his thirst and fill his stomach. There were plants emitting fresh air, writing utensils that seemed to fit perfectly in his hand, and even glasses to reduce eye strain.
It was a place perfectly optimized for reading.
Seojun staggered over and sat in the chair.
The plush chair supported his body. The chair he had at home was a good one, but this was on another level.
“...It's a perfect fit.”
Whether it was made with elven magic, dwarven technology, or the abilities of some other race, the chair was truly excellent.
Seojun rested his arms on the desk and cupped his chin.
The height of the desk was so perfect that he could only let out a hollow laugh.
“So that light show earlier was a body scan...”
Chuckling, Seojun looked around.
Just like in the libraries of other levels, countless bookshelves stood in neat rows. Unlike the massive door, the books were a convenient size, similar to real-world books.
“There are a lot.”
But there were fewer than the books of life he'd read so far. He guessed the distribution of past lives was like a pyramid, with the most at the lowest level and the fewest at the highest.
“There are still so many books I haven't read...”
He had more unread books than read ones.
The books of life from the lowest level, whose lives were so short they were only a few pages long, could be read by the dozens in a single day. But from the intermediate-low level and up, the page count increased, making it hard to read even a few.
He had to read an entire life thoroughly to gain an ability, so he had to choose his books carefully from the start. After all, he could finish a book and still end up with an ability different from what he intended.
“That's why,”
The desk and chair were things Seojun, who had always sat on the library floor to read, had desperately wanted, but,
“I asked for a search function...”
Seojun, living his current life, was now genuinely curious about what the past lives who created the Library of Life were thinking.
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