Diffusion (3)
Director Yu Giltae’s eyes widened as he looked back at Lee Chanhoo.
"...A sole investment?"
It wasn’t strange. Lee Chanhoo, seated across from him, had said he could clear out the other investors and back the project alone. Master director Yu Giltae pushed his round glasses higher on his nose, looking distinctly rattled.
"If you say sole investment... you mean MEG will take on the entire investment?"
Lee Chanhoo kept smiling, though in his head he was answering with his usual swagger.
Yeah, that’s right, you damn old director.
On the surface, however, he was calm as still water, all easy confidence.
"That’s correct. That’s what I said."
Yu Giltae’s confusion deepened. He had assumed they were talking about taking a share of the overall budget, not a sudden proposal for sole investment.
"Representative Lee Chanhoo. You don’t even know how large the investment scale for my new film Masked Murder will be, do you?"
He didn’t. Even Yu Giltae himself still hadn’t settled on a precise total production budget. So Lee Chanhoo nodded.
"No, I don’t."
"And yet you’re speaking so confidently about sole investment?"
Even Lee Chanhoo’s relaxed smile was hiding a trace of unease. A film invested in alone. Just by rough estimate, it would burn through at least several billion won without breaking a sweat.
Sole is... really risky.
He had told Commander Kang Jaeha as much. But Jaeha had remained unmoved, utterly steady. No, he had actually encouraged sole investment even more. So Lee Chanhoo recalled the commander’s words.
Risk will come with it. But if we’re only going to put in a pathetic little amount, sole is better. No other investors running their mouths either. Looking at Director Yu Giltae’s previous work, the production cost sits around 8 billion won, and even if it goes higher, that’s fine. Just throw it in.
He had even added that it would probably be more comfortable for Director Yu too. After replaying Jaeha’s instructions for a moment, Lee Chanhoo looked across the table and spoke.
"Well, if you’re really worried about it, we can bring in one or two more investors. But MEG would prefer sole investment."
He continued his briefing on MEG.
"You already know we invested in Gyeollo at BIFF."
"Yes, I do."
"Have you seen the animated film Natdaljib, which is in theaters now?"
"...I was planning to watch it soon."
"It’s making a proper splash as a Korean animated film. We invested in that one too. Solely."
"!!!"
At this point, Lee Chanhoo was showing the legendary Yu Giltae the reach of MEG.
"Right now, MEG is running several businesses in parallel, and there are more investments planned as we go. In other words, there’s no problem at all with us investing in your film alone."
"······"
Yu Giltae grew serious. To be blunt, in today’s film industry, sole investment was almost unheard of. And for a master director like him, even more so. Films, after all, had a way of failing no matter how acclaimed the director, so investors spread the risk.
That was why, in film production, choosing the investors came first.
Sharing the risk was the correct answer, but from a director’s point of view...
Getting sole investment would be far better.
It was infinitely easier than dragging in a handful of investors. The saying about too many cooks spoiling the broth existed for a reason. The more investors there were, the lower the risk, but the more they intruded and interfered with the work.
Even if the picture he had wanted was twisted and ruined, the director would still have to grit his teeth and film it anyway.
What director would like that?
Of course, at Yu Giltae’s level of prestige, interference would be somewhat reduced, but it wouldn’t disappear entirely.
Better one person making noise than a whole crowd.
After sorting out his thoughts, Yu Giltae broke the silence and spoke.
"...If you do invest alone, are you planning to interfere in the work in any way?"
Lee Chanhoo shrugged.
"Director, I’m pretty busy, as it is. I don’t have time to run around set and chirp like a magpie."
He had seen plenty of investors who said that and then started ordering people around.
"In that case, can we include a clause in the contract stating that you won’t interfere with the work?"
"Of course. I’d rather you shot the film exactly the way you want it. If there’s no major issue when I see it, I won’t touch a thing."
Yu Giltae felt relief and surprise at the same time. In several decades of directing, he had almost never encountered a situation like this. He could call it luck, but it was also deliberate luck. After all, this was only possible because Kang Jaeha had chosen Yu Giltae in the first place.
Slowly nodding, Yu Giltae finally said,
"Good. Then let’s settle on MEG as the sole investor. Hah, once this becomes known in the market, it’ll stir things up a bit. There’ll be side talk among the investment firms too. It’s such an unusual case."
"That’ll help raise awareness, which is good."
"Still, I’ll need to talk to the film company we’re partnering with, and we’ll have to prepare the contract, so let’s make the final decision soon and gather everyone together."
"Understood."
Lee Chanhoo’s smile deepened as he extended his hand to Yu Giltae. It was a handshake loaded with the intention that both sides would win. Yu Giltae shook it and asked,
"But... even if my name carries some weight, why are you going this far for my new project?"
It wasn’t Lee Chanhoo who had seen something. It was Commander Kang Jaeha. But Lee Chanhoo answered as if the judgment had been his own.
"Intuition."
"······Intuition."
He was borrowing the commander’s line, but there was no way Yu Giltae could tell.
Has he lost his mind? He’s throwing tens of billions on intuition?
He concluded that the investment company called MEG had a bit of madness to it.
Later.
In the late afternoon, the subordinates gathered at MEG. Lee Chanhoo, Go Chunseok, Ha Yeonji, and Cha Chunghyun. One by one, they reported to Commander Kang Jaeha, beginning with Lee Chanhoo.
"Commander, the sole investment on Director Yu Giltae’s side has almost gone through."
After explaining the conversation with Yu Giltae, Lee Chanhoo scratched his head.
"But is this really okay?"
Kang Jaeha, whose vault was steadily filling with a guaranteed extra profit of more than 10 billion won, glanced at Cha Chunghyun and smiled faintly.
"It’s fine. Keep a close eye on Director Yu’s side."
"Understood."
Kang Jaeha nodded, then gave instructions to Ha Yeonji, who had her hair rolled into a neat bun.
"Ha Yeonji, keep pushing the Natdaljib articles, and help Cha Chunghyun wrap up the acquisition of MEG Entertainment and FilmMEG.
"Yes, Commander."
Kang Jaeha’s gaze returned to Lee Chanhoo.
"You heard about Oh Jongman and the Netflix side."
"I did. Netflix asked Oh Jongman to move as an actor too."
"You go over there and close the deal."
As Jaeha murmured, he also made clear exactly how Chanhoo should sell it. More precisely, he fed him the layout he had already built, and Lee Chanhoo, quick on the uptake, understood at once.
"Ah, like that? That’ll make it way more interesting. Once the One-Act Project opens up, the attention-grabbing factor will go even higher."
"The fact that Oh Jongman was a writer should stay buried until the very end."
"Got it. I’ll go and work the deal properly."
This time, Kang Jaeha turned to Go Chunseok, who sat upright and rigid.
"Lee Chanhoo will move on his own. Go Chunseok, you stick with Choi Rina for a while."
"Understood. But Commander, what exactly should I do while staying with Choi Rina?"
"First priority is protection. If any flies start buzzing around her while she’s busking, like last time, handle them."
"Yes."
"And since she has PTSD, it’d be better for Choi Rina to have a mercenary she knows with her."
"Understood."
"Encourage her too. Keep her company."
It would probably be better to have Ha Yeonji with Choi Rina rather than Go Chunseok, but given their positions, Ha Yeonji couldn’t always stay by Rina’s side.
In any case, on the 14th, the next day, when Go Chunseok went to see her, Choi Rina was bouncing in place, her long violet hair swaying. Her face was bright with delight.
"Really? The commander said you should stay with me?"
"Yeah. That’s what he said."
"Amazing! Nice! I’m totally happy!"
"Please take care of me."
"Yeah! Take care of me too!"
"You can talk casually to me too, like you did back in the mercenary corps."
"I was already doing that, though?"
"I see."
Choi Rina’s eyes curved into a smile, and as if something had just come to her, she clapped her hands together.
"While we’re at it, want to come busking today??"
"Good."
"But if you just stand there, you’ll get bored, so do something!"
"Do something? Are you telling me to dance or something?"
"No, no - huh? That’s not bad either. But more than that..."
From a corner of the cramped studio, Choi Rina pulled out something round.
"This is an instrument called a maracas. If you shake it, it goes clack clack!"
"······"
"If you hold this and shake it when I tell you to, that should do it. How about it?"
"Got it."
"Then let’s practice right now!"
Choi Rina, suddenly fired up, brought out an acoustic guitar. The two of them could be found again that night on the streets of Hongdae.
-♬♪
The spreading guitar melody was incredible. It was good enough to make passersby stop and listen. Of course, it was Choi Rina playing, and today she wasn’t alone.
-Clack clack clack!
A huge monster of a man was shaking something with a blank expression. It was Go Chunseok. He was moving the maracas in time, exactly as Choi Rina had taught him. Rina stood out too, but it was the huge frame of the expressionless man rattling maracas that drew everyone’s attention.
"The girl playing guitar is pretty. And the song’s good too."
"Right? But wow, that guy’s huge."
"Isn’t it kind of cute how he’s just standing there and shaking that round thing all stiff-like?"
At first Go Chunseok had been embarrassed, but now he had emptied his mind.
It’s the commander’s order. I have to do this well.
Among the dozen or so onlookers gathered there, familiar faces appeared. First was Kang Jaeha.
"······"
He looked at Go Chunseok with a calm expression, though he seemed to be holding back laughter as hard as he could. Behind him were Lee Chanhoo and the other MEG members. They had been invited by Choi Rina, and the first one who failed to suppress her laughter was Ha Yeonji.
"Pffft!"
That laughter spread to the others in no time. Go Chunseok’s clack-clack performance was simply too powerful. After confirming that his comrades had come, Choi Rina changed songs, and Go Chunseok, seeing the commander, shook the maracas with even greater ferocity. He was trying to score points. At the same time, the laughter from the others only grew louder.
After sweeping over his subordinates, Kang Jaeha smiled faintly.
It’s been a while. This feeling.
Back in the other world, the mercenary corps had been like this too. Laughter and enjoyment had gone hand in hand. It hadn’t all been war and slaughter.
Back then too, Choi Rina sang and everyone ate, drank, and enjoyed themselves.
Kang Jaeha’s eyes softened as he watched Choi Rina play guitar.
That’s why I thought she was exceptional.
When Choi Rina was there, the mood loosened. She had dissolved the mercenaries’ tension and given them moments of ease. That was why Jaeha cherished her. In the mercenary corps and here as well, Choi Rina’s greatest strength was the bright energy she carried.
No wonder the mercenaries had fallen for her and trailed after her everywhere.
Then Choi Rina met Kang Jaeha’s eyes and waved both hands wildly.
It was at that moment.
Hm?
For an instant, Kang Jaeha’s vision lurched. A familiar sense of foreboding followed. The prelude to Déjà vu. Before long, a different scene than the present was printed across his sight.
『A massive, grand concert hall. Countless lights were scattered across the venue, bathing an enormous crowd in their glow. It was a concert. Screams and cheers filled the air.
"#(*&%(*#&%*(#!!!"
"*%#(%*#*#@!!"
The noise was so loud it was almost impossible to make out. The tens of thousands of spectators filling the concert hall were all looking toward the vast stage. Standing on that stage was a single woman. She wore a stage outfit with a tie and had an acoustic guitar slung over her shoulder. Choi Rina. Choi Rina shouted at the crowd.
"Hello! You’ve all waited a long time, haven’t you?!!"
The reply came as a thunderous wave of screams and cheers. It felt as if everyone in the hall had come only for Choi Rina, and the concert hall seemed ready to burst.
-♬♪
Then Choi Rina began to play the acoustic guitar.』
That was as far as it went. Kang Jaeha’s vision swayed again, then returned to reality. The dozen or so people gathered there. Choi Rina playing guitar in front of them. Go Chunseok still going clack-clack. His subordinates cheering with laughter.
Jaeha quietly recalled the Déjà vu he had just seen.
It had been Choi Rina’s.
With a smile, Kang Jaeha watched her play guitar and murmured inwardly,
The timing’s unclear, but... if that’s the scene I saw in the Déjà vu, then it’s probably fine to make the stage even bigger.
15th. Saturday.
From the morning of the weekend, Kang Jaeha could be found in the MEG office. His subordinates were nowhere in sight, and he had just taken a bottle of water from the small refrigerator when...
-Swoosh.
The door to the MEG office opened again. It was Choi Rina, carrying a laptop and a pile of things in both arms. The moment she saw Jaeha, her eyes curved into a smile.
"Ah! It’s the commander!"
"Yeah, it’s me."
Still grinning, Choi Rina looked as if she and Kang Jaeha had already arranged to meet. She set the things she had brought onto the six-person table and raised a thumb with unmistakable pride.
"Everything you mentioned, including the pieces I composed myself! I brought it all!"