Chapter 22
Chapter 22
Maybe CG Like This Really Could Make It Possible?
“The visual expression is incredible. If we want to keep Cha Doyoung working on storyboards for us long-term, what choice do we have? We’ll just have to hold Hyejin hostage.”
Writer Lee Sihyang said it brightly while smiling.
I matched her with an equally sociable smile.
“If it’s this kind of hostage, I’d gladly accept.”
“Then as long as Hyejin keeps appearing on set, you’ll continue drawing storyboards for us?”
“Of course. Ah, as long as it doesn’t interfere with my actual duties taking care of Hyejin. I’ll support the production with everything I can.”
PD Son cleared his throat and subtly inserted himself into the conversation.
“I’ll make sure the storyboard fees are handled properly too. I’ll even add a little extra above industry standard. So you don’t need to worry about things like that at all.”
Honestly, I’d already been willing to work for free if it meant increasing Hwang Hyejin’s screen time.
But now they were paying me too?
Suddenly PD Son started looking like an incredible gentleman.
I’d already heard enough from my uncle about how filthy this industry could be.
Compared to that, wasn’t PD Son practically a saint?
“Alright then, Doyoung. Let’s start by handling these urgent scenes first.”
PD Son began marking up a clean script using colored pens while explaining things.
“I’ll explain the scenes that need immediate work first. This section here goes into filming tomorrow, so it’s urgent…”
When I returned carrying a mountain of assignments, Hwang Hyejin sat with her knees together and asked curiously,
“Doyoung oppa. What were you talking about for so long with the PD and writer?”
“Rejoice. This cameraman oppa just pulled off something huge.”
“Something huge?”
“I desperately lobbied the PD and writer until my palms almost peeled off, and now your screen time’s getting increased.”
“Really?”
As expected, the thing actors loved most was increased screen time.
Her already large eyes widened even further as she reacted with pure excitement and surprise.
“Yeah. The writer personally confirmed it, so take it as official. Apparently you’ll keep appearing throughout the later half too, not just in flashbacks.”
“But I’m playing the younger version. How would that even work?”
“The writer will figure it out somehow. Maybe dreams, time travel, regression, reincarnation—whatever.”
The story could climb mountains, fly into space, dive into the Mariana Trench, or vacation in the Maldives for all I cared.
As long as our Hyejin’s screen time and ratings kept increasing.
“I think I saw you talking about the sketchbook. Why did the writer suddenly agree to all this?”
“The storyboards carried hard.”
After I explained everything, Hwang Hyejin covered her mouth in shock.
“Wow. Oppa, you’re seriously amazing.”
Break time ended, and filming resumed.
I held the expensive camera and captured Hwang Hyejin transformed fully into her role inside the frame.
【Would you like camera-operation correction assistance for more efficient monitoring enjoyment?】
‘Like when you draw storyboards, you’re saying you’ll handle the camera for me too? Do it.’
【Executing command.】
The future app moved my hands and operated the camera.
After lightly adjusting several functions, Hwang Hyejin’s image inside the small monitor transformed into elegant compositions.
From a rough “point-the-lens-and-film” image—
into frames that looked crafted carefully by a professional cinematographer obsessed with composition.
It felt like my body itself moved according to the future app’s precise calculations.
I’d felt it while sketching too,
but this sensation was both fascinating and addictive.
Because it let me experience the illusion that I truly was a legendary storyboard artist and elite cinematographer.
—Never forget what you did to me today. I’ll remember it until the day I die.
Inside the filmed scene, Hwang Hyejin glared resentfully with tears brimming in her eyes.
Suddenly, middle-school-first-year Hwang Hyejin screaming vicious insults at delinquent girls flashed through my mind.
‘Damn it.’
I shouldn’t be doing this,
but I kept overlaying that wild middle-school Hwang Hyejin skin onto her current performance.
Our Hyejin is an eighteen-year-old innocent and fragile actress.
I have to protect that image….
【Hwang Hyejin is currently consenting to portrait-rights usage.】
【Would you like to generate a video?】
Ever since Hwang Hyejin became conscious of my camera, the portrait-rights permission remained continuously active.
Meaning I could freely generate endless versions of her acting using the future app.
【Hwang Hyejin is always curious about how Cha Doyoung imagines her acting.】
It seemed she no longer saw me merely as her cameraman.
More like a director personally shaping her performances.
Honestly, if I privately requested certain acting styles from her, she’d probably happily try matching them.
‘Take the acting Hyejin just did and age her up about ten years. Ah, change the outfit too so it feels mature.’
【Video generated.】
A single sentence, and the video was created instantly.
What kind of world even is the 30th century?
—I told you never to forget what you did to me, remember? So don’t you dare forget it either.
A mature Hwang Hyejin stared coldly with the eyes of a venomous snake.
Her acting and visuals felt so dangerously lethal that chills automatically ran down my spine.
Wait a second.
‘The dialogue changed.’
【Assuming a reunion between the two characters ten years later, the dialogue and direction were altered accordingly. Would you prefer a version without changes to the dialogue and directing?】
‘No, this version’s better. Since ten years passed, directing it this way makes more sense.’
Look at that sense.
It even understood things I never explicitly said and adjusted the video automatically.
That’s how AI should work.
Meanwhile modern AI tools still struggled to understand why humans have ten fingers.
—Regret it all you want. That’s the only way my waiting for this day becomes worthwhile.
The expression Hwang Hyejin showed while acting as Han Yuna ten years later.
That look somehow felt familiar….
Ah.
It was the evolved version of the exact eyes middle-school Hwang Hyejin showed while rearranging that delinquent girl’s face.
“Oppa, the PD complimented me.”
I snapped back to reality.
The real Hwang Hyejin stood before me smiling brightly.
She looked purely happy just because she’d received a little praise—
yet layered faintly over that image, I could still glimpse the rebellious and contemptuous spirit from her stormy middle-school years.
“Oppa? What are you thinking about right now?”
“Huh? Ah, I was replaying your acting from earlier in my head. You looked really pretty. You did great.”
“Really?”
“Of course.”
“Suspicious. Feels like you imagined something weird while watching my acting.”
“No, no. Nothing like that. Why would I imagine weird things about you?”
Actors were simply too sensitive toward emotional subtleties.
Sometimes I genuinely felt like Hwang Hyejin could read my thoughts straight off my face.
Hopefully it wasn’t actually showing.
“Oppa, you weren’t thinking about that informant video again, were you?”
“Absolutely not. Definitely not.”
“I already explained that I probably acted like that because I panicked after getting cornered.”
“I know. Of course. I believe you were panicking.”
[Journey of the Green Star]
[Animation Video Rights Agreement]
[PreCutter LLC]
Studio RedSpit director Im Hwashin slowly handled the rights contract.
‘What kind of company even is this?’
BrainClick.
The presumed animation director from company PreCutter whom he met through the video community.
‘Are they seriously planning to animate my screenplay?’
He’d never heard of the company before.
It had been founded only recently, and nobody knew who the people behind it were.
The large young man who came to sign the contract looked like nothing more than an ordinary office employee who knew absolutely nothing.
‘Maybe it’s Japanese or Chinese capital?’
Im Hwashin truly hoped his screenplay would become animation someday—
but—
‘How many projects bought rights only to get shelved afterward? Especially considering the state of the Korean animation market….’
Even he personally believed the possibility of adaptation was basically zero, which was why he willingly sold the rights for twenty million won.
“Director, I watched this insanely good animation on WeTube.”
“Hm? So?”
“Well… while watching it, I realized the story felt strangely familiar. Then I remembered—it resembles that screenplay you wrote and sealed away before. The space opera one.”
Im Hwashin’s heart instantly dropped.
He asked with a trembling voice,
“Journey of the Green Star?”
“Ah, yes! That was even the animation’s title! Did you sell the animation rights somewhere?”
“I did sell them.”
“Wow, I don’t know which studio made it, but they adapted it unbelievably well. Congratulations, Director.”
Im Hwashin felt dizzy.
‘How long has it even been since I sold the rights?’
“The teaser already came out?”
“Huh? No, the teaser came out ages ago. Episode 1 released this time. Apparently it’s a six-part series.”
“What? Episode 1 already released?”
Impossible.
There simply wasn’t enough time.
“Hey, where can I watch this animation?”
“Ah, one second.”
The employee immediately typed in the WeTube address.
[Stellar Passage: Green Star]
[Episode 1]
With dazzling effects, Episode 1 began.
A heroic saga set across the vast universe unfolded magnificently alongside grand orchestral music.
Before the spectacular CG spectacle, Im Hwashin completely lost himself.
The protagonists, supporting cast, and villains he had painstakingly created inside his mind now lived and moved before his eyes.
Explosions roaring across the battlefield carried overwhelming intensity.
The desperate battle between heroes and villains wielding godlike superpowers felt even more thrilling than gigantic fleet battles between massive spaceships.
Twenty minutes passed instantly.
Episode 1 ended.
“….”
Im Hwashin stared blankly at the monitor.
Completely unaware of his condition, the employee beside him happily continued speaking.
“The animation turned out seriously amazing. But why would they release it first on WeTube instead of television or theaters? And it’s not even paid content either. Anyway, congratulations, Director.”
“…You don’t know when I sold the rights, do you?”
“When did you?”
“Last month.”
“Yeah, you sold them last month, so now—wait. Last month?”
Only then did the employee’s eyes nearly pop out.
“No, how…. At this quality level, even with unlimited money and manpower, you’d still need at least six months minimum. Director, what exactly is going on?”
“That’s what I want to know.”
Completely stunned, Im Hwashin began browsing through the Studio 30THC channel.
Click. Click. Click. Click.
Inside the silence, only mouse clicks echoed softly.
After watching every single uploaded video, Im Hwashin finally turned his head.
“What exactly is this channel?”
“Uh… honestly, I don’t know either. I only discovered it yesterday through the algorithm.”
Im Hwashin’s face flushed with excitement.
His screenplay adapted into animation.
The Cha Seoyoon mad-movie commercial videos.
Inside the small collection of uploads, he saw dazzling brilliance.
‘With CG like this… maybe my screenplay really could be adapted into live action too?’