Chapter 41
Hearing Lee Chanhoo through the phone, Kang Jaeha immediately thought of the noncombat personnel in the mercenary corps.
Supply management.
The mercenary corps had never been made up of fighters alone. Just as an army had support units, a mercenary corps naturally had plenty of noncombat personnel too: medics, cleaners, cooks, supply officers, and managers, and so on.
Without sanitation and medical care, meals, supplies, and cleaning, troop morale would collapse and the whole force would become impossible to sustain.
In the end, the core of a mercenary corps was war, or battle, but to wage that war, noncombat personnel were absolutely essential.
And among them, supply and logistics were directly tied to war.
Most of the mercenaries, however, were generally terrible with numbers and calculations. That didn’t mean Jaeha could personally shoulder all of the supply and management work as the corps commander, either. So he had made active use of noncombat personnel in the corps. It was also a matter of replenishment. Even noncombat troops weren’t necessarily immune to death, after all.
They’d had bases wiped out before, and logistics had to move with the war, too.
In any case, when Jaeha recruited noncombat personnel, he usually looked more at brainpower and diligence than raw force. And among those noncombat troops, there were some exceptional talents.
The “lazy guy who managed supplies” Lee Chanhoo had just mentioned was, in Jaeha’s memory, one of those exceptional talents.
Jaeha sat down on the bed and answered into the phone.
“The perpetually sleepy one. I remember him. The guy who’d always be sprawled under a tree taking a nap.”
“That’s the one.”
“You found him?”
“Yeah. I think I did.”
Jaeha’s expression sharpened a little.
“You met him?”
“No. Not exactly. Uh... I tailed him. But I can’t say with one hundred percent certainty it was him. More like seventy percent?”
“What do you mean?”
“I never got a look at his face head-on. But the side profile, the way he walks, the vibe—he really does seem like the guy.”
“Where are you now?”
“In the alley beside the building he went into. I think the name on this side is Cha Chunghyun. He’s a tax accountant.”
That was a little unexpected, and Jaeha furrowed his brow.
“A tax accountant?”
“Yes. I confirmed he went into a tax office. The sign literally says ‘Tax Accountant Cha Chunghyun.’”
A tax accountant. Jaeha’s interest stirred, and he gave Chanhoo an immediate order.
“Use Search. If it works, then that’s him.”
“Already planning to report to you and try it right away. Hang on.”
It was about a minute before Chanhoo’s voice came back on the line.
“Commander, that’s him. Cha Chunghyun is the lazy bastard we know.”
Another former mercenary subordinate had turned up. This time, oddly enough, it had been Lee Chanhoo, not Jaeha, who found him.
Well, that’s not strange. There’s no rule saying I’m the only one who gets to find them.
It was entirely possible for subordinates to cross paths with each other. Jaeha simply had a far higher chance of running into them because of his Déjà vu. Even so, he judged it dangerous for subordinates to meet each other without caution.
“Now that we know his name and location, come back for now.”
“Yes, sir. Meeting him without the commander there does feel a little off, anyway.”
“Exactly. Get through today’s schedule first. You and I are both busy today, so let’s meet again separately tomorrow after the closing ceremony. Bring Ha Yeonji and Go Chunseok too.”
“Got it.”
“And tomorrow, check Cha Chunghyun again with Search.”
After ending the call, Jaeha lowered his phone and crossed his legs.
“Cha Chunghyun, huh...”
He quickly recalled the Cha Chunghyun of mercenary days.
He had that utterly languid air about him, but he was razor-sharp with numbers.
In the mercenary corps, Cha Chunghyun’s main job hadn’t been combat but supply and logistics. So while he wasn’t skilled in direct force, having subordinates run into one another without warning was a risk.
Not everyone’s going to be friendly, and it’d be dangerous to assume Cha Chunghyun is alone.
He might be living solo like Lee Chanhoo, Ha Yeonji, or Go Chunseok, but Jaeha couldn’t rule out the possibility that they’d already formed teams among themselves.
And there were the subordinates’ abilities to consider, too.
“A proper investigation into Cha Chunghyun. Even if I move after checking the situation, it won’t be too late. At most, it’ll take a few days.”
Muttering that to himself, Jaeha took a bottle of water from the refrigerator in the lodging and gulped down a few mouthfuls.
“Still, a tax accountant. That’s tempting.”
For an expanding MEG, or for Jaeha’s work of making money grow, he was exactly the kind of talent they needed. And as he considered the steadily appearing subordinates, Jaeha looked back over the mercenary corps.
Hmm.
There had been those who died early, and those who died late, like Chanhoo. If he thought all the way back to when he’d still been a platoon leader rather than a commander, the number of people grew even larger. Right now he was in Korea, so he only saw the subordinates here.
But if there ever comes a time I go overseas—there could be subordinates there too.
After all, the people in the mercenary corps had all looked different from one another. There’d been no reason to worry about appearance in the first place. Maybe even the way his Déjà vu showed him subordinates would change once he went abroad.
After thinking things through for a while, Jaeha picked up his phone.
He searched for “tax accountant Cha Chunghyun” in the Busan area. Maybe because the name was unusual, there was only one tax office that came up. But the reviews for “Tax Accountant Cha Chunghyun” weren’t very good at all.
-For starters, his face is dripping with annoyance.... He doesn’t seem to have even a shred of motivation to do anything....
-D O N’ T go here!!!! He does consultations half-assedly and keeps yawning lololol maybe the guy’s family is rich lololol seems like he’s just doing this as a hobby!!
Reading a few of the recent reviews, Jaeha let out a snort of laughter.
“This bastard’s not working, he’s just slacking off.”
Or maybe he’d come back to this world and gotten hit with a massive reality check.
After that, various media outlets busied themselves spreading the news of the Busan International Film Festival. The outlets that had come to Busan, and the ones that hadn’t, were all throwing around updates about the festival’s situation without waiting for anyone’s permission.
Since it was the Busan International Film Festival, with Hollywood actors and directors in attendance, the news spread rapidly even to YouTube and social media. What was interesting was that there was quite a lot of talk about Gyeollo.
Still, the hottest topic by far was the red carpet from the opening ceremony a few days earlier. Who was the best dressed, who was the worst, which actor had shown up, which celebrity had arrived, who had come from overseas, and so on.
What was interesting was that there were a great many articles about Yoon Dayeon and An Jihee.
The two of them had definitely made their mark on public opinion.
That meant their recognition had shot up dramatically.
·
·
·
While the two women were busy driving up their market value, the Busan International Film Festival was in the middle of screenings for the invited films. Several days had already passed since the opening, and there was now only one day left until the closing ceremony, when the awards would be handed out.
In other words, tomorrow night would be the festival’s finale.
Even so, despite there being only one day left until the end, the many people who had come to the Busan International Film Festival were still moving from venue to venue as they checked the screening schedules for the invited films.
“Wow—there are still this many people?”
“Looks like we’re not getting into this one.”
The screening halls for the invited films were packed to the brim with crowds.
Of course, the hall where Gyeollo was screening was no different.
Despite the hall being fairly large, every seat was taken.
On the big screen, Yoon Dayeon and An Jihee’s passionate performances played out before the audience. Many viewers watched Gyeollo with intense focus, and among them were a fair number of foreign attendees wearing earbuds.
Meanwhile—
“......”
A man watched Gyeollo with an absorbed expression, heavy with presence. It was CEO Han Taeseong.
The screenplay was good, but the filming is excellent too. It stands out clearly among the short films in the competition section.
And then he thought of Kang Jaeha’s composed face.
Come to think of it, there’s no way that bastard chose the script without checking the director’s talent. I’m starting to look forward to the closing ceremony.
Han Taeseong wasn’t the only one in the theater completely absorbed in Gyeollo.
An Jihee? I like that girl too. From her distinctive visuals to her acting. But Yoon Dayeon... it feels like she’s shed a shell she’d been carrying around.
The man with the pale face and round glasses was Yu Giltae, one of the country’s master directors. He was known as the “Gentleman of Chungmuro.”
Yoon Dayeon’s acting has improved absurdly. Especially that breath of hers—like she’s spent more than a decade rolling around in a gutter, and has long since forgotten what hope even feels like. It’s extraordinary.
His attention was fixed on Yoon Dayeon. For reference, Jaeha had already seen the master director Yu Giltae in Déjà vu before. It had been the scene where he handed Yoon Dayeon a script.
Her part wasn’t that big. But it’s etched in my memory. She absolutely owned the scene-stealing role. Is Yoon Dayeon starting to hunger for being an actress rather than a star?
And when the film finally ended, the name of Gyeollo’s lead investor appeared proudly in the ending credits.
- Investment: MEG
Seeing MEG, Han Taeseong stroked his chin.
MEG...
And that name was stamped into the minds of many others, Yu Giltae included.
The next day, July 3. Late afternoon.
The vast hall of the Busan Cinema Center. Domestic and foreign directors, producers, actors, staff, and everyone else who had attended the Busan International Film Festival filled the audience seats of the huge hall. A rough estimate would put them in the thousands.
And that wasn’t all.
More than a few hundred reporters and broadcast crews from Korea and abroad were also focused on the enormous stage. The reason they had gathered here again after the opening was simple.
Standing on stage in a tuxedo, a top Korean actor shouted the reason loudly.
“Then! Let’s begin the closing ceremony of the Busan International Film Festival right now!!”
That was the start of the closing ceremony, delivered live on YouTube and everywhere else. It was the moment that put the final period on BIFF, which had been running for nearly ten days. There were various events included in the closing ceremony, but the main dish was, of course, the awards for the competition sections: works, directors, actors, producers, and more.
What distinguished BIFF was that each competition section had a variety of prizes.
For example, if there were five competition sections, then there would be five grand-prize-level awards. On top of that, a few actor-related awards had been newly established at BIFF since the year before last.
In any case—
-♬♪
A congratulatory performance celebrating the closing of BIFF began. It was by a famous domestic singer. Among the thousands of spectators watching the performance were, naturally, the Gyeollo team: Yoon Dayeon, An Jihee, Director Kwon Seongmin, Lee Chanhoo, and the others.
All of them wore fairly tense expressions.
There were plenty of other famous people there too, including CEO Han Taeseong and the master director Yu Giltae.
Meanwhile, Kang Jaeha could be found in the waiting room with Chief Manager Kim Daeyong and the other staff.
“......”
Jaeha didn’t react much, simply staring at the monitor displaying the closing ceremony. The staff around him, on the other hand, were in an uproar.
“What do we do! Why am I the one who’s nervous??”
“I’m nervous for no reason too. We’ve made it to the end of BIFF just fine, but—ugh, I just want Gyeollo to win one award!”
“Do you think it can? The short film competition is supposed to be crazy tough this year.”
“If we don’t win anything... well, it’d be disappointing, but it can’t be helped. Still, Gyeollo did build a ton of recognition this time.”
Hearing their fussing, Jaeha didn’t visibly move, but inside he was laughing.
Well, even if it did build recognition, there’s still a huge difference between winning on the main stage and not winning at all.
After swallowing his own tension along with the other staff, the stocky Chief Manager Kim Daeyong sidled up to Jaeha.
“Ja, Jaeha-ssi. What do you think? Do you think Gyeollo can win even one award?”
Why are you asking me that? From the looks of it, Chief Manager Kim Daeyong seemed to regard Jaeha almost like a believer would regard a prophet. Scratching his chin slowly, Jaeha shrugged.
“Well, I think they can win at least one.”
“Ooh!”
Trust began to gather in Kim Daeyong’s eyes. The rest of the staff were the same.
“As expected of Manager Kang! Now that you say it, it really does feel like they can win something!”
“Yeah, yeah! Exactly!”
The looks were a little excessive, but Jaeha simply turned his eyes back to the monitor without a care.
At the moment, the BIFF closing ceremony had finished the congratulatory performance and moved on to a short event corner, and before long it was shifting into the atmosphere of the main dish: the awards ceremony. The host standing at the center of the massive hall raised his voice.
“Starting now, we’ll begin the awards for each competition section! I’m honored to be the one making this announcement!”
The ceremony began with awards for domestic and overseas key staff, followed by a merit award given to those who had made outstanding contributions to the development of the film industry.
Flashing cameras, a torrent of applause.
-Clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap!
The atmosphere gradually heated up. It meant the buildup toward the main event was being handled properly. Once the winner’s acceptance speech ended, the host announced the next award section.
“Next up is the short film competition awards!”
It was the section that included Gyeollo. Because it was short film, it wasn’t the main dish of the awards, but it still drew intense attention, to the point that it was often called a gateway for rookie directors and actors.
For that reason—
Here it comes.
Director Kwon Seongmin, seated among the audience, pushed his glasses up and swallowed hard. Yoon Dayeon and An Jihee also wore solemn expressions. In the Gyeollo team, only Lee Chanhoo looked remotely relaxed.
The short film competition awards began with prizes given to key staff.
The winner was an art director from Japan.
As he stepped down from the stage with the trophy, the host’s voice grew even stronger.
“Now, we’ll announce the New Actor Award for the short film competition!”
Several actors appeared on the giant screen behind him. Of course, there was a mix of domestic and foreign rookie actors. After giving the audience a moment to look at the video, the host lifted his cue card.
“Congratulations! The New Actor Award for the short film competition goes to... actress An Jihee from Gyeollo!!”
The moment her name was called for the rookie award, the woman in a dress sitting among the thousands of audience members was left with a face full of question marks. It was An Jihee.
“......Huh?”
And Kang Jaeha let out a satisfied smile.