Because I'm Not the Protagonist
Because I'm not the protagonist.
The CF would of course be released on schedule.
What Nike wanted was the additional production of a brand marketing film based on that CF.
"A marketing film? Is that something different?"
"Very different. From the starting line, compared to a regular movie. Hmm… you know how toy companies invest in anime production too?"
"Toy companies make anime? Why… wait, is it for promoting the toys?"
"Exactly. They even develop the products and the animation at the same time. Air it on TV, fire up the kids' desire to own something — then, bam, drop the product, and?"
"The kids throw themselves on the floor in the toy aisle begging their parents to buy them…"
"And do they stop at the TV version? Not a chance. After a while they release a theatrical film and rake the kids in all over again. Then they parade out the theater-exclusive models on top of that."
"Even the extra content is thoughtfully provided."
"While you're already at the theater, they kindly display the newly added companion toys right there for you to buy. How are you supposed to refuse?"
Truly tongue-clucking salesmanship.
"Toy companies are ridiculously evil, aren't they?"
"The most evil. They're robbers who take kids hostage and empty their parents' wallets."
Team Leader Jo Unseok's war stories had a suspiciously high degree of lived-in realism.
"Anyway, the anime production itself doesn't turn a profit. It's a loss, actually. But toy sales climb far beyond that,"
"So the losses get offset?"
"To put it precisely, anime production is just advertising budget being spent to sell toys. It's promotional investment."
"That clicks completely. So Nike wants to do the same thing now?"
"Nike spends anywhere from several trillion to over ten trillion won a year on advertising. Making one movie is nothing to them."
Team Leader Jo Unseok suddenly took my camera backpack from me.
"I can carry it myself."
"Director Cha needs to prepare for the meeting. Nike is coming to the company right now."
I'd expected intense reactions once they saw the Future App's absurdly good CG.
The more you know, the more clearly you see, after all.
"We will invest three hundred million dollars in total production costs."
I nearly coughed.
That was genuinely unexpected.
This wasn't "intense reaction" territory anymore.
Three hundred million dollars? That was four hundred twenty billion won.
"It only needs to be a world built on this CF's concept. You will need to participate as CG director at Free Cutter."
Was the interpreter even translating this properly?
Director Jenny Kim was so worked up she was still pouring out words without pause. By comparison, the white skinhead man interpreting for her only tossed out short, clipped phrases one at a time.
"Of course Chae Seoyun must take the lead role as well. Every Nike product will be introduced in the film. Those are our conditions."
What film investor casually drops three hundred million dollars and then lays out conditions this simple?
It was only possible because this was a film the sports emperor was making for sales promotion.
Nike had not the slightest interest in earning money from theatrical screenings.
To them, the movie was nothing more than an upgraded version of the CF they'd just produced.
If I boiled the CF down to a single line…
A beautiful mermaid discovers Nike sneakers on the ocean floor, gets chased by a giant deep-sea fish, flees onto land, puts on the sneakers and jogs across the beach, then rides a surfboard all the way to the edge of the horizon, dives into a giant lake beneath an ocean waterfall, changes into sandals and departs — while the Nike logo embedded in the surfboard gets the final spotlight. That was the CF.
How were you supposed to turn that into a movie?
And who was writing the screenplay?
Minimum story presentation requirements are met.
Character dialogue must be created by you.
The Future App would spit out a finished video with a single click as long as you fed it a basic concept.
But it would not invent the characters' dialogue for you.
That was why I'd bought a screenplay to make Journey of the Green Star.
To be precise, it wasn't that the app couldn't — it just wasn't doing it yet.
Auto Scenario function unlock required.
The reason for locking it wasn't anything special.
Apparently they were worried that if the app did everything from start to finish right out of the gate, the user would completely lose interest in producing video content.
But this was a world overflowing with screenplays rotting away while waiting for someone to produce them, so it wasn't a problem at all.
Right now the 30THC channel alone had tens of thousands of scenario submissions stacked up asking us to review them for anime production.
"So Nike won't be involved in the screenplay writing or adaptation either?"
"Of course not."
Of course — and then she launched into something extremely long, which the interpreter cleanly snipped off at the end.
"As long as the scenario can feature as many Nike products as possible, that is sufficient. We will leave everything to Pine Tree Entertainment and Free Cutter."
"Thank you for the excellent proposal. We'll review it positively on our end as well."
"We look forward to good results."
Once the Nike people left, an emergency 3rd Team meeting was convened immediately.
This was a project worth a full four hundred twenty billion won.
Team Leader Jo Unseok looked up from the monitor.
"I checked the official notice from 30THC. Content about entrusting agency sales to Director Cha."
"It won't get caught under the company ban on dual employment, right?"
"It won't, it won't. Our whole industry is free-for-all, so what are you worried about."
The scale had gotten so large that I needed to officially represent 30THC. So I'd had 30THC send Pine Tree a formal document granting me agency authority.
With that, the authority issue was cleared.
"Alright, everyone. Our Director Cha Doyoung landed a three-hundred-million-dollar mega-project less than two months after joining the company. A round of applause!"
Clap clap clap!
The 3rd Team members clapped vigorously while looking at me with a variety of expressions, and I felt oddly embarrassed. Especially under the gaze of Byeonguk-hyung, our Hyejin's road manager.
"I knew from the moment he saved the Whis music video right after joining."
"Even the general affairs people were saying it. Why did someone like this end up in our general affairs department?"
"He earned that ultra-fast promotion. Truly incredible."
Keeping the corners of my mouth from dancing took a little effort.
I was human too — situations like this put some air in a man's shoulders.
The moment the meeting actually started, though—
"In the end it's just a hundred-twenty-minute CF. There's nothing particularly good about it for an actor's career."
Someone dumped cold water on the mood from the jump.
But the rest of the team all seemed to treat that as obvious. I'd thought I was the only one baffled, but once I listened to the reasoning, it made sense.
"It's a film where losses are baked into the plan from the start. There's nothing good about it for Chae Seoyun's career."
"Unless the appearance fee is around ten billion, it's too damaging to an actor's image."
"We're not a distributor either, and we can't handle film production ourselves."
"But if we bring in a major distributor, it feels like handing a three-hundred-million-dollar project to someone else, and that hurts."
"How about Plan B — make it an OTT drama instead?"
"Oh, I like that better. The company is already pushing a drama production business anyway."
"But Nike is currently fixated on making a film. Will that be okay?"
"Either way, this isn't a size we can handle. If we force ourselves to swallow it, we might get a stomachache — no, our stomach might burst and kill us."
For a real actor, you needed portrait-rights consent before you could generate CG that looked like they'd actually performed. As long as there was a script, the click itself wasn't a problem.
But the team members didn't know the click-app existed.
Their judgment that our company lacked the capacity to handle a three-hundred-million-dollar film production was thoroughly, objectively correct.
Out of the various opinions, things narrowed down to two plans.
Plan A. Bring in a major distributor to produce the film. Our company focuses on project management.
Plan B. We produce it ourselves as an OTT drama. In this case, our profits are maximized.
However, that created the additional problem of having to persuade Nike.
"Director Cha, which side looks better to you?"
"I'm more drawn to the film side, but if it's a size our company can't swallow alone, there's not much choice."
"What if we just minimize location shooting, film everything in front of a green screen, and process it all with CG?"
"That sounds fantastic."
"Then how much do we have to cut over to 30THC? Isn't about two hundred fifty million of the three hundred million going to CG costs?"
Part of me wanted to offer to do the CG for the bare minimum cost.
But the fact that I owned 30THC was a secret.
Even free labor born of pure fandom had to stay within reason — I couldn't afford to draw suspicious looks. Not unless I was planning to reveal the Future App.
I had to move according to common-sense standards.
"Alright, Director Cha — I'll go report to the CEO. You go meet Seoyun."
"Me? Seoyun?"
"What do you mean, why. We need to confirm the artist's willingness to appear too."
"I could just ask through Manager Kim Gyeonguk."
"For something like this, when an authorized person in charge goes and persuades them directly, you get a more positive answer."
"Understood. I'll head over."
Good thing I'd already gotten her number.
Was Chae Seoyun home right now?
I reached for my camera backpack out of habit — and Team Leader Jo Unseok suddenly burst out laughing. The laughter had erupted for no apparent reason, which threw me off, but the rest of the team seemed to understand exactly why and joined in.
When he finally managed to stop, I asked,
"What's so funny?"
"That great sports emperor Nike is currently groveling to a mid-sized Korean entertainment agency they didn't even know existed, saying they'll throw three hundred million dollars at us if we'll please just make them a promotional film — how are you supposed to not laugh?"
The other team members laughed and piled on.
"It's Nike, after all."
"Untouchable absolute top dog."
"When this goes official, everyone's going to think our company is trying to manipulate the stock price."
Everyone was thoroughly flushed with excitement.
I understood with my head why they were so worked up — but the thrill never quite reached my chest.
"Director Cha doesn't seem very excited?"
"I guess I've been stepping on Nike for too long."
I was currently wearing a three-year-old pair of their company shoes.
"I don't want to appear in it."
Chae Seoyun shook her head the moment she heard my pitch.
"The protagonist of that film isn't me — it's the sports shoes manufactured in Nike's factories."