Chapter 45
I’m translating the chapter directly into publication-ready HTML, keeping the narrative flow natural and separating the special in-universe bits into styled blocks where the source requires them.CHAPTER_TITLE: Recruitment (3)
When the commander said he was going to buy an entertainment company, Ha Yeonji looked mildly stunned.
“Buy an entertainment company...?”
By contrast, Kang Jaeha didn’t seem to think much of it.
“Yeah. I’m buying an entertainment company.”
Ha Yeonji, whose eyes were already large, widened them even further and let out an incredulous laugh.
“No, Commander, you talk about buying an entertainment company like you’re picking up gum at the corner store.”
“That’s about the level of seriousness I’m working with.”
She understood what he meant when he said he had no intention of spending all that effort just to feed it to a dog. Even so, she was privately floored. The commander’s design was on a much larger scale than that.
He’s running MEG while doing manager work, expanding its size, checking every person connected to it one by one, measuring them, judging them. He’s even giving orders to us.
And on top of that, he was bringing in new subordinates. Setting the board was just a bonus. You only had to look at the Busan International Film Festival to see how cleanly Jaeha had laid everything out.
Once again, Ha Yeonji thought the commander, Kang Jaeha, was an absurd existence. She shook her head.
“Haa... Seriously. He was like that in that world too, but the commander really is a monster. In every sense.”
“Is that so?”
In truth, Jaeha had told Ha Yeonji and Go Chunseok enough to let them grasp how MEG would operate and where it would be headed, but he hadn’t laid out every detail of the future before them.
It wasn’t that he was hiding anything.
The future he had drawn in his head was simply too vast, too sprawling, so he hadn’t bothered explaining it piece by piece.
Besides, peeling the layers back one at a time is better for them too.
It had been the same back in the mercenary days. Simple commands were easier to give, and easier for subordinates to carry out. Well, he had told Lee Chanhoo quite a lot, since he was the figurehead acting as the dummy president.
In any case, Kang Jaeha brought the subject back to the entertainment company he intended to buy and continued speaking to Ha Yeonji.
“In the end, MEG is going to become the control tower.”
Ha Yeonji answered at once.
“Right. A MEG group? Something like that? You’re probably thinking beyond just entertainment companies. But are you really going to buy everything like an entertainment company?”
“Some things I’ll buy. Some things I won’t. That kind of thing changes once you’re actually moving. You decide as you go. As for entertainment companies, buying one is worth it. Saves time and all that.”
“Fair enough. The kids you’re working on now, Yoon Dayeon and An Jihee, could end up being just the start, right? If you try to build an entertainment company from scratch to take them in, that’s just more hassle. The timing’s off too. Buying something that’s already set up and running is the better deal.”
As expected of a reporter with a decent head on her shoulders, Ha Yeonji was quick to understand. As she said, starting an entertainment company from the ground up would be a bad move for Kang Jaeha. Building a new one wouldn’t be the problem; the problem was how much work would pile up if he had to start from the system level.
It was far better to buy a company that already had its foundation in place and rebuild it.
Yoon Dayeon’s contract ends this November, and An Jihee’s is up around the start of next year after a one-year extension. Both of them don’t have much time left.
Probably. No, definitely. Leon would offer both Yoon Dayeon and An Jihee new contracts because of the Busan International Film Festival. Other entertainment companies would no doubt be drooling too.
Of course, Kang Jaeha had no intention of letting that happen.
Then, with a smile spreading across her face, Ha Yeonji asked him,
“So then - the production company, film company, agency, security company, all the things you mentioned in passing at first, you’re obviously going to build those. What about buying a media company?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
From the beginning, Jaeha had already marked Ha Yeonji for that direction: someone who would later handle marketing and publicity for the massive MEG empire. Watching her brighten, Jaeha thought,
It won’t take that long. I’ve only been at Leon for half a year already. At this rate, the three years that woman’s voice talked about will be gone in no time.
Even so, he had no intention of being tied down by that woman’s voice or by Leon, either.
If it isn’t a pain in the ass, staying at Leon is the profitable option. But it’s still my call. If I have to, I can always quit.
Kang Jaeha said he would use the woman’s voice, Leon, and anything else if it suited him, but he was also as free as the wind.
At any rate, he was already looking forward to how large MEG would become once he had collected the full twenty-five billion won pension. Ha Yeonji gave him a thumbs-up.
“Anyway, I’ll check out the entertainment companies right away.”
“How’s Saebit Jinrihoe coming along?”
“We’re still gathering information, but there’s nothing that really smells worth reporting yet. I haven’t told you because there’s still no usable intel.”
“It won’t be easy. If they were sloppy, they’d have been exposed long ago. Treat it as a long game.”
As he muttered that, Kang Jaeha added another instruction.
“And I’ll tell Lee Chanhoo too, but the three of you should work together and dig into one actor.”
Ha Yeonji’s eyes lit up.
“An actor? Who?”
“Woo Jeongcheol.”
At the name, Ha Yeonji tilted her head.
“Woo Jeongcheol? That top actor Woo Jeongcheol?”
“Yeah. If you’re digging around behind him and something rotten turns up, tell me right away.”
Jaeha nodded, recalling the Déjà vu of Woo Jeongcheol’s drug incident he had seen through Director Yu Giltae, and went on.
“Like drugs, for example.”
Several hours later, inside a van racing down the road.
Three familiar faces were riding inside the speeding vehicle. Lee Chanhoo sat in the driver’s seat, Cha Chunghyun in the passenger seat, and Go Chunseok in the back.
The mood was quiet.
“······”
“······”
Kang Jaeha’s subordinates weren’t saying much. Meanwhile, Cha Chunghyun, looking out the window, couldn’t help thinking that this was all a little ridiculous. One moment the commander of a mercenary group from another world had shown up out of nowhere, and now they were driving to meet the mother he’d been searching for all this time. This was an outcome none of them had imagined even this morning.
Still.
Cha Chunghyun scratched his chin and stole a sideways glance at Lee Chanhoo, who was driving.
How did he know my mother was in Jeju Island?
When Jaeha had asked where Chunghyun’s mother was, Lee Chanhoo had answered in just a few seconds. Chunghyun had tried asking him quietly.
“...Hey, my mom. Is she really in Jeju Island?”
Keeping his eyes on the road, Lee Chanhoo answered with remarkable calm.
“Go see for yourself first.”
It wasn’t exactly a satisfying answer. Chunghyun pressed a little further.
“That’s your ability, isn’t it?”
“Who knows. Just think about seeing your mother.”
Lee Chanhoo was serious. It had been the commander’s order: don’t tell Cha Chunghyun anything unnecessary. In the end, Chunghyun decided to believe Kang Jaeha, and the situation he’d been placed in. At that, his heart began to pound.
She’s... in Jeju Island?
He still wasn’t sure, but if his real mother was there, what should he even say first when he saw her? The feeling wasn’t quite anticipation. It was something stranger than that, something he couldn’t put into words. He was afraid, and frightened, and still had no intention of stopping.
It felt as though he’d only be able to keep moving forward if he saw the woman who was awkward to even call his mother.
Cha Chunghyun, Lee Chanhoo, and Go Chunseok arrived at the airport, boarded a plane, and before long were flying through a sky packed with clouds. About an hour later, they landed in Jeju Island and rented a car.
Even then, the three of them barely spoke.
As they neared their destination, the lethargy that had clung to Cha Chunghyun hardened into something rigid. Lee Chanhoo drove for roughly two hours, and the three of them passed a coastal road with the sea spread out on the Seogwipo side. The car came to a stop in front of a modest house with a clear view of the ocean.
-Swoosh.
Lee Chanhoo parked the car at a reasonable angle and pointed outside with his index finger.
“There.”
“······”
Expressionless, Cha Chunghyun looked in the direction Lee Chanhoo was pointing and let out a small sigh. It was strange. Just a little while ago, it had felt like his heart was about to burst, but now that he was actually here, he was strangely calm.
“I’ll go.”
Cha Chunghyun muttered that briefly and got out of the car. He walked slowly toward the modest house enclosed by a low stone wall. When he got closer, he saw a middle-aged woman sitting in the small garden. She was wearing a hat to block the sunlight, so her whole face wasn’t visible, but the moment he saw her, Chunghyun knew instinctively.
It’s her.
That she was the mother who had abandoned him. She had grown old enough that her face was crisscrossed with wrinkles, yet for some reason he knew it all the same. Chunghyun didn’t speak to her. Time seemed to stop as he simply looked at her.
Back in the car, Lee Chanhoo and Go Chunseok watched quietly.
The first to speak was Go Chunseok. His eyes were oddly a little red, as if he were watching a tragic film.
“What will he say.”
Lee Chanhoo flinched at the sight of his face and leaned his own slightly back.
“What’s with you? You crying?”
“No. My nose just feels a little sore.”
“Why all of a sudden?”
“Just because. She reminded me of my grandmother.”
Go Chunseok was a monster when it came to official matters, but in private he seemed rather fragile, and Lee Chanhoo found that new. He turned his gaze back toward the road and answered.
“I can’t really imagine what he’s going to say, either. It’s awkward to even call her his mother.”
That was when Cha Chunghyun finally spoke to the woman who was his mother.
“Excuse me.”
The next day at noon. Seoul. The MEG office.
Kang Jaeha could be found in the MEG office. He stepped into the room, still empty of any subordinates. Today, he was wearing a cap. Once he arrived, he sank into the window-side seat where Lee Chanhoo usually sat. Then he looked out at the view beyond the glass.
“Feels like I haven’t seen Seoul in a while.”
It really had been a while. It had been nearly ten days since he last came back.
For the record, Kang Jaeha had moved from Busan to Seoul earlier that morning, after wrapping up the Busan International Film Festival schedule. Of course, the same went for the Gyeollo team, Yoon Dayeon, and An Jihee as well. Because the Busan International Film Festival had been long and grueling, everyone, including Kang Jaeha, had been given about two days off.
Leon Entertainment’s, or rather CEO Han Taeseong’s, decision, no doubt.
Even so, Kang Jaeha had no intention of resting. His mind was already working at full speed, and there was far too much to handle.
That was when it happened.
R-r-r-r-r-r.
The phone on his desk gave off a long vibration. When he checked the caller, it was a recently saved subordinate. Cha Chunghyun.
Jaeha smiled faintly and pressed the phone to his ear.
“Go ahead.”
Cha Chunghyun’s voice on the other end sounded much lighter than before.
“Commander, this humble household manager has arrived in Seoul. Where should I go?”
At this time, Oh Jongman’s rented studio.
After recently submitting a script for a Netflix one-act contest, Oh Jongman was now writing a short drama script for YouTube at Lee Chanhoo’s request.
His rough-looking face was bent over the laptop screen, staring hard at it. There were quite a few emotions tangled in his expression. Joy, surprise, and even something like envy.
“That’s amazing.”
It made sense. What he was looking at were the articles still buzzing in the media and public opinion about the Busan International Film Festival. There were plenty of names he knew.
Yoon Dayeon. Leon Entertainment. And Lee Chanhoo, too.
More than anything, Kang Jaeha left the deepest impression.
As expected of the manager. He’s definitely different from the managers I know. In instinct, in eye for talent.
Whatever the case, the Gyeollo team had taken home three awards at the Busan International Film Festival. Oh Jongman, who had once been an actor himself, gave a bitter little smile for reasons he couldn’t quite explain.
This kind of thing... this was the shape I wanted.
His mind drifted back to the days when he had been active in supporting roles. The Busan International Film Festival. At some point, Oh Jongman had wanted to stand on a stage that big and win an award for himself, as an actor. But then everything had shattered after the incident.
Even now, as a rookie writer, Oh Jongman still carried the scent of an actor about him.
He couldn’t help it.
He had lived far more days as an actor than as a writer. Still, now that he had to walk the path of a writer, he shook off the feelings that were rising in him and steadied himself.
“It’s still a little absurd, but I can make it to a big stage as a writer, not an actor. I can do it.”
Having made up his mind, Oh Jongman closed the article he had been reading and let out a long breath. He needed to focus on writing again. Right then.
Ring-ring.
The phone lying next to his laptop rang. Oh Jongman’s eyes sharpened into a writer’s as he picked it up without thinking, and the number on the screen was one he didn’t have saved. He tilted his head slightly and brought the phone to his ear.
“Yes, hello?”
A high, bright female voice came through the line.
“Hello - is this writer Jongman?”
“Huh??”
“Oh? Aren’t you writer Jongman?”
Writer Jongman? For a moment, Oh Jongman had forgotten that he was the one they were talking about, and then his mind snapped back into place.
“Ah! Ah!!! Yes, I’m writer Jongman.”
The instant he heard that it was Netflix Korea, Oh Jongman shot to his feet.
“Yes, Netflix??”
The woman on the other end answered with energy.
“Yes! Congratulations! Your script has been selected in our One-Act Project competition!”
“Wh... what? Really?”
“Yes! Congratulations, writer!”
With an expression that made him look as if he were dreaming, Oh Jongman heard the woman on the other side of the phone speak again.
“You’ll need to come by Netflix Korea sometime. When would be good for you, writer Jongman?”
It was his first meeting as an unknown writer, not as an actor.