The Philistine at the Top of the Tower
"Well, for one thing, it's a good thing for me."
"…?"
"I really enjoy working with you, Actor-nim. And I think it'll be a good thing for you, too. You seemed to genuinely enjoy our conversations, and if we end up at the same agency, you'd have far more chances to talk."
My mouth fell open before I could stop it. I hadn't expected that at all.
"And… it'll be good for PD Kim Minseok, too. Oh, and Screenwriter Han Jihye as well. I spoke with her briefly a while back, and she said just looking at you sparks her inspiration. If you keep acting, she'll get to work with you again on other projects, so she'd be thrilled. And then there's…."
Manager Ahn Jinbae spoke methodically, step by careful step, his expression utterly serious.
He seemed completely unaware that he was counting off his points on his fingers, one by one.
"And it'll be a good thing for my sister, too! She's always nagging me—no, sorry, *worrying* about me—asking when I'm ever going to make something of myself. So once I've landed on my feet, she'll be able to rest a lot easier."
"……."
He was so absorbed in his list that his brows were knitted tight, which was rare for him.
It was impossible not to laugh at the sight.
"And also… uh… why are you laughing?"
"Ah, sorry."
I'd fought desperately to hold it in, but apparently it showed anyway.
At the sight of Manager Ahn Jinbae stopping mid-sentence with a bewildered look on his face, I hurriedly pulled the corners of my mouth down. I cleared my throat to cover myself, but a stray giggle kept slipping out.
"My brother was right. I had no idea I was such a good thing for so many people."
I'd wondered what he was getting at, but never in a hundred years could I have imagined *this* would be his answer.
Shouldn't it have been something like, *why would that make you selfish? Explain in more detail, please.* That's what people usually say, isn't it?
He really is a strange one.
As I kept pressing down the laughter threatening to bubble up, Manager Ahn Jinbae studied my expression, then spoke carefully.
"Actor-nim. I don't know the details of your situation, but… I don't believe that continuing to act is you being selfish."
"……."
"I can't speak for anything else, but this one thing I can say with certainty: there will be many people who find comfort in watching you perform. So it will be a good thing for them, too."
I stared blankly as he spoke, choosing each word with painstaking care.
What could make someone that earnest? As if my acting held some vital significance for him personally.
I felt a flicker of doubt—then remembered what he'd just said, and laughed again. Right, it was a good thing for *him*, too, apparently.
Perhaps because I kept laughing without giving any real answer, his frozen eyes darted about, nervously searching my face for clues.
Even the sight of that sent me into another fit of giggles. I lose. I completely lose.
"I suppose you're right. Then I don't have much choice, do I."
"…?"
"I guess I'll have to try it. Acting."
I tossed the words out as casually as if I were remarking on the weather.
Maybe I'd said it too lightly, because the meaning didn't seem to land.
Manager Ahn Jinbae just rolled his eyes round and round, his face unable to tell whether I was joking or serious.
Only after my next words did his still-frozen expression finally brighten.
"Would you come with me? When I go to the agency, I mean."
"…! Of course! Don't you worry."
Hearing such a chipper reply, I found the corners of my own mouth already turned up.
By tomorrow—or maybe even the moment I got back to the orphanage—I might regret all of this. I knew perfectly well that nothing had actually changed from an hour ago, that I was simply drunk on a vague, giddy feeling.
I still had no conviction. No confidence, either. Which was exactly why…
I'll just have to do better.
I couldn't force Angae to keep meeting me through willpower alone, but at the very least, I could find out what was behind the current situation.
All I had to do was investigate piece by piece and work out a method from there.
First step: figuring out what the Black Stone actually was.
The words were already out of my mouth. Looking at that beaming face, my resolve only hardened further.
That's right. I just had to get better.
"Then I think it would be best if you met with the CEO directly this Saturday. Ah, of course, first I'll have to check whether the CEO is available, then I'll speak with the secretary—no, wait, first I should tell you, Actor-nim—"
"Hyung. I've got plenty of time. No need to rush."
I don't have time.
I rapidly organized in my head the steps I'd need to identify the Black Stone's true nature.
Come tomorrow, I might not be able to see Angae at all—I couldn't afford to move at a leisurely pace.
Sorting through such tangled thoughts ought to have given me a headache, but strangely, my spirits were soaring.
I was starting to feel a glimmer of hope that things might actually work out.
Looking back, that was the exact moment I made the worst possible choice.
Five days later, I was standing in the lobby of Wooyeon Entertainment.
So this person was with this agency, too.
The lobby walls were lined with photographs of what looked like the agency's roster of celebrities. Even a cursory glance turned up plenty of familiar faces. Would my picture hang here too, once I signed?
…Surely they wouldn't refuse to hang mine alone, right?
I was surveying the picture frames with mild gloom when someone playfully jabbed me in the back, once, twice.
I turned around expecting exactly who I expected, and there he was, exactly as predicted. And, true to form, he followed up with the predicted action.
"Seeing you here makes me so happy. Yeonjae~"
"Ugh. Me too, hyung."
It took a long, crushing hug from Jung Hyun before I was released.
When he asked where Jinbae was, I gave a simple answer: I had no idea.
The moment Manager Ahn Jinbae had delivered me to the lobby, some senior-looking figure had whisked him away. Even as he was being dragged off, he'd urgently called back—stay right here, Actor-nim will be along any minute—so I'd dutifully nodded.
Even so, he'd apparently been unable to shake his worry, because a few minutes later he came sprinting back to recite a list of precautions—"If a stranger comes up and talks to you, don't follow them, and if anyone offers you food, don't eat it—"—before vanishing once more.
Hearing this, Jung Hyun laughed—a laugh that said he had a pretty good guess who'd dragged Jinbae off.
He said it must have been the Team Leader of Team 2, where Manager Ahn Jinbae worked, and we agreed to sort that out later and head up to see the CEO first.
We rode the elevator to the top floor. The moment the doors opened, an air of opulent luxury greeted us.
Any other day it might have felt intimidating, but having recently visited Manager Ahn Jinbae's home, it barely registered.
A man emerged from the secretary's office at the sound of our arrival, and his face lit up at the sight of Jung Hyun.
"Jung Hyun-ssi."
"It's been a while, Chief Han."
"It really has. How long has it been? What brings you all of a sudden—weren't you supposed to see the CEO today?"
"……It seems the message didn't get through?"
Jung Hyun was still smiling, but there was something distinctly frosty beneath it.
The man called Chief Han must have sensed it too, because he apologized and said he'd go recheck the schedule himself.
When he reported that the CEO was currently away from his desk, Jung Hyun went silent for a moment, then said he'd simply go wait inside, and moved. The man floundered, but couldn't bring himself to stop him.
Inside, the CEO's office was surprisingly bare. I'd half expected it to gleam like a hotel corridor.
Apart from a display shelf lined with trophies, there was hardly any decor to speak of.
Jung Hyun, moving with the ease of familiarity, settled onto the sofa and gave me a brief rundown of Wooyeon Entertainment—when it was founded, which actors were on the roster.
The conversation quickly pivoted to the CEO himself, and the descriptions turned out to be considerably more scathing than I'd anticipated.
"He's a decent enough philistine. Out of all the philistines, he's one of the better ones—that's the only reason I came here."
"……."
"If you asked whether I've *never* once regretted working with him these ten years, that'd be a lie, but he wasn't half bad. He does good work, I'll give him that."
"Hmm. Are there any executives who *aren't* philistines?"
I debated whether to ask, but went ahead anyway, and was rewarded with a soft laugh.
"Of course there are. Plenty of people aren't philistines. But there's no such thing as a CEO who isn't one. The position doesn't allow it. It's a job where you make your money selling people."
"……."
"When people say, 'Oh, the CEO is a wonderful person, such a good man'—well, in my experience, that's usually just incompetence dressed up in pretty words."
His voice fell evenly over the leather sofa.
It wasn't a particularly sharp tone, yet the atmosphere stiffened—perhaps because of his expression. Sensing it himself, he smoothed his face into gentleness, and even accounting for the fact that he was an actor, the speed of that switch was remarkable.
"In that sense, the CEO here is a decent sort. For one thing, he knows perfectly well that he's a philistine. If you say there's a final line he must never cross, he'll toe it right up to the edge—but he never steps over."
"Um… I'm right here, you know?"
At the sudden interjection of an unfamiliar voice, I turned around to find a man younger than I'd expected.
Too young to call middle-aged, too old to call a young man.
Even in the presence of the man presumed to be the CEO, Jung Hyun stubbornly kept talking.
"Just think of it as having one conversation first. You don't have to sign anything. There are entertainment agencies a dime a dozen anyway. Oh—and if there's some other place you'd rather go, just say the word. I'll pass it along."
"Jung Hyun-ah… did I do something wrong?"
The CEO, unable to even enter his own office, was hovering at the threshold.
When that forlorn voice rang out, plaintive as a stray cat's, Jung Hyun finally turned his head.
"How can you set up an appointment and then leave someone waiting? You treat people like this and still want to sign them?"
"Aigoo, that wasn't my intention at all! Chief Han says he was so swamped it completely slipped his mind."
"Don't hide behind the Chief. It was you who didn't pass the message along, hyung. That's why I told you to call the Chief right away, remember?"
At the flat, expressionless rebuke, the CEO inched forward, one cautious step at a time.
"You're right. You're absolutely right. My fault. I'm sorry—you're Yeonjae, was it?"
"Wow. Rude, on top of everything else."
"Aigoo! My sincerest apologies! I'm Jang Wooyeon, CEO of Wooyeon Entertainment. I'm truly sorry for the delay."
Having instantly corrected himself into formal speech, the CEO approached with an easy, disarming grin.
He drew a business card from the cardholder tucked inside his jacket and offered it respectfully with both hands, the logo engraved in gold glinting softly in the light.
"I'm Lee Yeonjae. Please, speak comfortably."
"Oh no, how could I. Polite speech is more comfortable for me as well. Hahaha."
His gracious refusal was quite graceful and natural—but I'd already seen far too much to let it slide. Though, I have to admit, he kept sneaking glances at Jung Hyun, as if genuinely anxious about his approval.
Hyung, for his part, immune to those wounded, lost-kitten eyes, looked at no one but me.
"……."
The CEO looked at hyung. Hyung looked at me. My two eyes went looking for an exit.
Caught in the middle, I was in a slightly awkward spot, and the moment I showed a flicker of discomfort, Jung Hyun let his expression soften at once.
"Haah, Yeonjae-yah. Say hello. He's a CEO with no manners but a solid work ethic."
"Hello. It's really fine—please speak casually."
"Sh…all I? I really am sorry about the delay. A lunch appointment came up out of nowhere."
A faint crease of embarrassment crossed his face—along with a pair of deep dimples.
When I nodded that it was fine, Jung Hyun finally seemed satisfied as well; the faint trace of displeasure that had lingered around him vanished completely.
Only then did anything resembling an actual conversation begin.
The CEO knew a startling amount about me—so much that I wondered whether the word "knew" even covered it.
"You watched the footage from last week's shoot yourself?"
"I did. Now I understand why Jung Hyun's been coveting you. After watching it, I decided I'd get you signed no matter what it took."
The scene we'd filmed last week—Yu Hyeon weeping alone on the hillside path.
Footage that hadn't even aired yet—and therefore, naturally, hadn't been through editing—he'd watched the raw cut?
He'd said it all so matter-of-factly that I couldn't tell how serious he was.
I heard raw footage was restricted to authorized personnel only, because of spoilers.
Had Wooyeon invested in The Butterfly Flower on the Zelkova Tree? Or did he know PD Kim Minseok personally?
My thoughts scattered in a dozen directions, and I couldn't focus on the conversation at all.
Perhaps he noticed, because Jung Hyun spoke with a knowing look.
"I told you. He's good at his job."
…Is this really something you can sum up as *being good at his job*?
I stared at the CEO as he rattled on with boyish enthusiasm.
Those vivid dimples that had seemed so boyish now struck me in an entirely different light.