The Parachute Drop
"Whether you're an actor or a producer, in the end, we're all in showbiz. What you see is more important than anything."
The first quest Sung Tae-chang had given him upon his transition to office worker: Do Hyun-woo's.
Fix Up Your Appearance!!
Unsure what role might come his way, he'd chopped off the shaggy hair he'd been growing out. And with the gift certificate from Team Leader Ko, he'd even bought a suit.
His hands had trembled buying clothes with five zeros in the price tag—something he'd never done in his life—but this was his first step as a full-fledged member of society.
A suit was something you bought once and wore for ten years, right?
Appearance Upgrade (Completed)
🎁 Reward:Good First Impression on Day One
If this were a proper status window, that's how it should look...
But since it was Sung Tae-chang and not a status window, maybe that's why.
"Ah, damn. A parachute drop at a time like this? Where'd you go to college, kid?"
The effect wasn't great?
To cut to the chase, Sung Tae-chang's quest wasn't a total failure.
"Whoa, Hyun-woo, right? Why on earth did you retire? With a mask like that."
"Thank you."
"Our work doesn't require certifications or degrees, so people who know the field adapt quickly. First actor background we've had... Looking forward to it."
Half the people welcoming him.
"High school grad, though?"
"This a place for washed-up actors to grab a rice bowl?"
The other half shooting him dirty looks.
He thought the split was extreme, but he soon figured out why.
After filling out the onboarding paperwork in the Management Support Office, it was 12:15 p.m.
A bit past lunch, so he figured he'd eat alone—until Chae Seo-hee, his mentor, was waiting.
"Let's go somewhere a bit away from the office."
At the ramen shop they ended up at, he got the rundown on the office dynamics.
"It's true we need hands on deck right away. And someone who knows the field can jump in immediately."
As a late entrant, Tvic was making bold investments, leaving them short on CEs to manage sites.
"So the field staff are all thrilled to have you, Do Hyun-woo."
"Ah, so the others are..."
"Yeah. The managers. More precisely, folks clashing politically with Kim Seong-tae RCE."
"What's RCE?"
"Regional Chief Executive. Korea branch."
Sung Tae-chang was that high up?
Well, from the moment they'd met, he'd seemed too educated to just have one manager under him.
Suddenly, big bro Sung looked different.
No wonder he'd landed him this gig so easily, even as a contractor.
"To be blunt, Kim Seong-tae RCE is a Tvic guy, right?"
"Yeah."
"We're contracted, but we're SSK employees—a separate company?"
"Yes."
"If the RCE's parachute guy delivers results, how's the vibe gonna shift? No reason for HQ not to boost his authority."
So if I do well, it gives big bro Sung leverage over SSK?
"And if I flop?"
"SSK gains the upper hand. Results talk; HQ can't meddle much."
"Then from your position, mentor, wouldn't you want me to fail? Why tell me all this?"
"Huh?"
Chae Seo-hee blinked wide-eyed, then burst out laughing.
"What do I care about faction fights? That's for the higher-ups."
"Ah, so..."
"Yeah. I just want you sticking around as long as possible. We're dying out here."
Her "we" meant the field staff.
Bottom line: My job's tied to big bro Sung's fate...
His mind sharpened.
An orphan like him—if he had family, Sung Tae-chang's name would top the list.
"Thanks for the heads-up."
"Site assignments after lunch... I don't think the meeting'll go in your favor."
Before joining Tvic—or rather SSK—he'd studied the org chart.
From past to present, one thing reigned supreme in content creation:
A good story.
But stories pleasing everyone don't come easy, so those with money changed their minds.
Instead of finding good stories, let's make them.
Thus bloomed Hollywood blockbusters overwhelming narrative with spectacle, and drama series penned by teams of dozens.
This trend exploded in the OTT era.
Enter Creative Line, aka CL Team.
CL hierarchy was simple:
All CEs (Creative Executives).
Team lead: Senior CE.
Mid-level managing a few projects: plain CE.
Handling individual sites per CE orders: Assistant CE.
He was an Assistant CE.
Full title: CL Team 3 Assistant Creative Executive.
Of course, not everyone was a CE.
Management support, PR, script analysis, research for data and risks.
But they were all CL helpers. What mattered was which CL team birthed what hits.
...Or so ChatGPT—and big bro Sung—had said.
Yeah, he'd gotten the full briefing from Sung Tae-chang.
With that, he'd planned to impress the Senior CE...
Seemed hopeless now?
"So... Anything left a high-school-drop parachute can handle?"
The prickly-bearded guy he'd met first thing was Team 3's Senior CE, Joo Young-hoon.
Chae Seo-hee, seated beside him (also an Assistant CE), spoke up.
"How about Keijo Bakery?"
"Keijo bread shop? Starring Kang Ji-hoon? Isn't that yours?"
"Studio shoots are done. Now it's location."
"And?"
"Gangwon-do locations galore. I'm juggling two projects; give it to a sturdy male CE..."
"Hey! Chae Seo-hee!"
She'd said nothing wild, yet the senior exploded.
"That's a CE? What makes him one already?"
"...Sorry."
"And why pass him your spoon? Wanna kiss him or something?"
Whoa, what a line.
Never thought he'd hear boomer-manager crap IRL.
But separately, he felt bad for mentor Chae.
From the vibe, she'd tried tossing him an easy site.
But the senior was dead set on dumping a tough one.
So he spoke up.
"Senior."
"What? Got something to say?"
"I know I'm green, but give me a shot—I'll give any site my all."
"Oh yeah?"
Joo Young-hoon grinned like he'd gotten the answer he wanted.
Chae Seo-hee poked his side, but this was inevitable.
The senior wanted him—the parachute tied to Sung Tae-chang—to crash.
No dodging that; better face it head-on.
"Fine. If the RCE shoved in some unqualified hack, at least he's got skills, right?"
Was office politics always this blatant?
He'd heard it was subtle power plays.
"Kang CE."
"Yes."
"What's that? Our contest winner."
"Ah, the thriller? Title's... here it is. Gongbeomche."
Gongbeomche?
"Time to actually shoot that, no?"
"Yes. Stalled on CE assignment. Need crew locked by year-end."
"Give it to him. Our RCE's golden boy."
With that, a planning doc stamped with massive Gothic Gongbeomche title slid his way.
Reflexively—or habitually—he flipped the first page.
Zziiirrr—zziiirrr—
A cicada's chirp echoed from somewhere.
"Huh?"
Thick grass scent wafted in.
What the...?
But the weirdness faded quick.
He snapped back to CL Team 3's meeting room.
What was that?
Did I doze off?
As he blinked in confusion, Joo Young-hoon leaned in, scanning his face.
"What? Don't wanna? No confidence?"
Facing the senior's naked malice, he replied.
"I'll give it a shot."
"Why'd you do that!"
He shrugged at furious Chae Seo-hee.
"Couldn't just sit quiet and wait for the axe. You looked uncomfortable too."
"That was the plan! Push Keijo Bakery first—they'd trash it, sure. It's mostly shot! Then I'd take the heat and..."
"Mentor."
"Just call me by name. Or title."
"Seo-hee then."
"..."
"Seo-hee?"
"Nope. Title it is."
"Huh? Why?"
"Feels too field-like. Bugs me."
"...?"
First impression: cynical career woman.
But looks and personality didn't match.
"Anyway, why?"
"Was Gongbeomche even on recent agendas?"
"Nah. Everyone ignored it."
"So how'd he pull the plan instantly?"
Ex-actor, even a flop.
Senior's "What's that? Contest winner?" was fake acting. Kang CE's "Here it is" too.
All staged.
Senior planned to dump Gongbeomche on him no matter what.
"Ah..."
Chae Seo-hee clutched her head, slumping.
"That's a total lost cause..."!