The Bombshell Interview
In the past, people learned about specific issues through TV news or internet articles, but times had changed.
The primary platform for spreading information was no longer the news.
It was YouTube.
Most folks discovered new controversies through personalized algorithms or thumbnails popping up in their recommended feeds.
That meant fake news and rumors were thriving, but it was an unstoppable tide of the era.
Kwon In-cheol, a college student and drama fanatic, was no different.
Kim Ra-un's new project?
Was it because he subscribed to all the drama-related channels?
0% Algorithm started appearing on his home screen.
After skimming the early episodes through one of the videos, Kwon In-cheol nodded.
"Looks watchable."
And just like that, he tucked the title 0% Algorithm into a corner of his mind.
The pattern continued afterward.
Having watched one related video, the algorithm kept feeding him more info on 0% Algorithm.
Who wrote the previous work? What had the director helmed before? What were the casting rumors...?
They're pumping serious money into marketing.
Around then, Kwon In-cheol started calling 0% Algorithm "Yeongpeoral" for short.
He'd moved from a vague impression to a clear one.
He also learned that Yeongpeoral and Tvic's thriller Gongbeomche were dropping around the same time.
He had no idea how he knew—just stumbled across it in Shorts and it clicked.
That Gongbeomche's overall director shared an agency with Kim Ra-un.
Stills from an indie film they starred in together.
All of it filtered in casually.
Trivial bits of info.
Tiny specks lodged in a brain corner, destined to evaporate with time.
No category to tie them together.
But one day.
"Huh?"
A category formed.
Trashed Kim Ra-un? Held a grudge from his rookie days when his project got snatched?
The category's name was.
Ah, so he got booted after losing the casting battle to Kim Ra-un.
Good vs. evil.
They were both rookies anyway. Probably just got out-acted, right?
Kim Ra-un, the pure-hearted guy who joined a low-budget drama out of passion, was good.
Wasn't that drama a total Kim Ra-un hard carry?
The Tvic director nursing a grudge from nearly a decade ago was evil.
So comments like this were inevitable.
"Ah, this is kinda..."
Wondering if he was alone in thinking that, he checked communities. Those in the know reacted similarly.
The path ahead was obvious.
Director Do Hyun-woo getting torn to shreds.
But hey, self-inflicted wound, right?
Tsking, Kwon In-cheol closed the browser tab.
As Kwon In-cheol predicted, attacks on Do Hyun-woo dragged on for days.
The issue snowballed.
Netizens outraged by Kim Ra-un's backstory spread posts everywhere.
Some who looked like Kim Ra-un fans even posted Tvic account deletion proofs on SNS.
Tvic dramas are doomed?
With sentiment like this, no way it'd get fair reviews on release.
Conversely, goodwill toward Yeongpeoral kept growing.
Poor Tvic actors...
But then.
Change hit.
Manager Jang had framed it perfectly.
Gongbeomche fails, 0% Algorithm succeeds—that's justice served.
The stronger the good-vs-evil frame, the more people root for 0% Algorithm's box office.
Practically no way to stop this plan.
SSK wasn't the NIS—how do you block Jang using his media connections?
But...
There was a scenario Jang would hate.
One no sane producer would pick.
Even CEO Han Sung-hoon called it a madman's ploy.
Exactly...
Q. Please introduce yourself.
A. Hello. I'm Director Do Hyun-woo from SSK, under Tvic Korea.
Currently serving as overall director for Tvic Original Gongbeomche.
Q. You requested this interview yourself—what's the reason?
A. As you know, it's due to the recent issue between me and actor Kim Ra-un.
A. The casting decision wasn't personal. It was solely for the work's completion.
Q. Sounds risky. You're saying if Kim Ra-un was cast, quality would've dropped?
A. Yes.
Q. Yes?
A. That's right.
Q. Pardon?
Of course, one interview couldn't instantly reverse the situation or clear all suspicions.
Impossible in the internet age.
But...
Kwon In-cheol's jaw dropped watching the interview.
"...Is this guy insane?"
"Team Leader Jung. Isn't this Do Hyun-woo guy nuts?"
SSK's marketing team leader Jung Sun-young looked up.
Her team stared back, eyes bloodshot.
They'd been glued to monitors for hours since the interview bomb dropped last night.
"You think so?"
"Huh?"
"Does it look like Do Hyun-woo's doing something crazy?"
"Isn't it obvious? Can we handle the backlash?"
Jung Sun-young had thought the same at first.
Even after Do Hyun-woo explained everything.
But monitoring sentiment, she felt the tide shifting.
Exactly as Do Hyun-woo predicted.
"What do you think he's doing right now?"
"Burying the old issue under a bigger one."
"Why?"
"Huh?"
"Why bury it?"
"Because... he's getting flamed?"
"You shouldn't do marketing. That's all you see?"
"..."
"He's changing the frame."
Mob justice hammering personal morality is unwinnable.
No matter how Do Hyun-woo denies hating Kim Ra-un, the public wouldn't buy it.
But "The work's better without Kim Ra-un" flips the script.
Makes people want to compare "with Kim" vs. "without."
"Still don't get it? He's saying Gongbeomche sucked Yeongpeoral's blood."
"Ah...!"
Now Yeongpeoral and Gongbeomche were tied at the hip.
Yeongpeoral's weight class applied to Gongbeomche too.
Why?
Because now comparison was mandatory.
Or at least, people wanted to.
"Still a crazy move, right? If Yeongpeoral wins, Do Hyun-woo's career's seppuku..."
No more "good fight" excuses.
Platform diffs, budgets, star power—none mattered.
From the moment Do Hyun-woo claimed rejecting Kim Ra-un was justified, it was winner-take-all.
Even Jang hadn't seen this coming.
But...
"We should be grateful."
"Huh?"
"Could you generate this buzz—or half—with eight no-names?"
"...Impossible."
"Do Hyun-woo's staking his career, showing his face to set the board—and you're whining?"
"..."
"If he hadn't stepped up, next would've been Eum Sung-hyun's casting controversy."
After Do Hyun-woo's witch hunt fizzled, they'd drop it.
Scream that Kim Ra-un got blacklisted over a failed idol.
Kim gets pity votes again.
"So we drag this Gongbeomche-Yeongpeoral rivalry to release day. Our CE sacrificed this much—can't even do that?"
"No, ma'am!"
"Got it!"
Motivated, the marketing team sprang into action.
Watching, Jung Sun-young pondered one thing.
Is Do Hyun-woo really sacrificing?
Situationally, yes—for Gongbeomche.
But his face lighting up while outlining the plan...
We'll see.
Probably the first time in Korean drama history.
A producer screaming, "Compare my work to theirs!"
SBX and 0% Algorithm side raged, "Who's this lunatic?" Too late.
Masses' eyes were locked.
My charges weren't cleared, though.
Verdict on me: suspended.
Until viewers watched and compared themselves.
Gongbeomche's weight class skyrocketed...
Tvic and SSK opened the money floodgates.
A college student on the subway with a friend, glued to his smartphone, glanced at an ad by chance.
[But the moment they arrived at the deep forest cabin, the way back vanished completely.]
Advertising a fairy tale?
No sound on subway ads, but subtitles confirmed it was a fairy tale.
The animation was crude paper cutouts in primary colors, jerkily moving.
Like Pororo?
As the student lost interest and returned to his phone.
[And there was his friend—dead.]
Something off about the fairy tale.
First murder.
Mutual surveillance community system.
Truth game to find the killer.
Friendships and memories crumbling in the process.
The stark contrast between visuals and content hooked the student.
Innocent fairy tale vibes pierced by clashing tones.
A face screaming in a mirror.
Hands around a throat.
Someone's back, catching breath in darkness.
A man charging wildly...
Short as 0.3 seconds.
Long as 0.5.
Suspense stills flashed subliminally.
What the?
Not blinking, he binged the mystery teaser.
Then nudged his friend.
"You see that?"
"What?"
"Missed the ad?"
"Huh? Fairy tale one?"
"Nah, not a fairy tale."
"What're you on about?"
"Wait. It'll loop."
Finally, he caught the title: Gongbeomche.
That hot internet topic.
Similar scenes erupted on TV, subways, buses, billboards, YouTube.