Frenzy in the Writer's Room
The IP manager from Highen Games dropped that bombshell remark so casually, it left me stunned.
Was it really this easy?
Sensing my doubt, the manager chuckled and elaborated.
"We're pretty conservative with anime or movies, but dramas are different. No production plans on our end, and the production company's Korean to boot."
"So, you're saying you trust K-dramas?"
"That's part of it, but Korea's where E-sports was born, right? K-gamers and K-dramas—the higher-ups will eat that up."
Ah, right.
From my research, Korea's stature in the E-sports world was massive.
"Since you're not touching any core IP elements and just shining a light on the industry, it won't be hard. And..."
The manager tapped the proposal document.
"This really touched me. It's not superficial—you can tell real gamers were involved."
This is where that meme from Lee Sun-jae comes in handy.
Damn it, Yoon Hyun-sol. I like you!
The follow-up made me feel even better.
"Plus, the content team loved Criminal Community. Our next animation concept is a mystery thriller."
"Ah, I see."
"Any chance of grabbing a meal with the content team? They were itching to join when I mentioned meeting Director Do Hyun-woo."
"Of course. Just give me a call anytime—I'll come running."
I handed out my now-public business cards and numbers, then left the meeting room with smiles all around.
"That went well..."
It felt like scaling a massive mountain way too easily.
Of course, we hadn't touched any real details yet.
IP usage fees—how much?
Permanent rights, or time-limited?
Limited to Korean drama format, or worldwide?
Nothing was set.
Hell, Highen might even want to co-fund production for a stake in the drama.
That could actually be the cleanest option.
Either way, there were mountains of issues to hash out.
But that was for after SSK greenlit production and Tvic joined the negotiation table.
Out of my hands now.
My mission ended at securing Highen's positive response.
What I really needed to handle was casting.
Especially.
'Kim Ra-un...'
To be honest, if Script Insight hadn't recommended him, I wouldn't have considered Kim Ra-un for the lead in my next project.
I'd never once pictured his face over Park Sung-hwa while reading At Your Fingertips.
The age gap was too big.
But after possessing the script, my thinking shifted.
I was starting to feel certain no one else could embody Park Sung-hwa better than Kim Ra-un.
Even his obsessive focus—bordering on fixation—with his role was a perfect fit.
Plus, the Park Sung-hwa I experienced in the script was younger than in the original.
Late 30s?
Maybe 40?
With Kim Ra-un turning 32 this year, makeup alone could cover it without issue.
'He might need training for that aged voice, though...'
The voice in the script wasn't his current one.
It felt familiar, but not enough to clock it instantly.
Still, Kim Ra-un was more obsessive about that stuff than I was.
Once casting locked in, he'd prep himself.
I trusted that.
So the issue wasn't casting fit—it was his willingness.
"From our side, sure. But you think Kim Ra-un sees you in a good light?"
Chewing over Sung Tae-hyung's words, I pulled up the drama community forum in the taxi.
Was Kim Ra-un still getting flak? Thankfully, not really.
Occasional comments, but the buzz had died down.
Criminal Community mentions clinging to the TOP 10 tail end were more prominent.
What the hell?
I hurriedly opened a portal site, and there it was—a headline plastered on the main page.
Normally, one hit drama doesn't make a director famous.
Not even line directors get that—OTT ones even less.
How many people even know Joo Young-hoon?
But my case was different.
The Kim Ra-un and Young Peril controversy was huge, capped by the polar results of Criminal Community vs. Young Peril.
Plus, I'd been on variety shows.
Me picking Kim Ra-un for my next lead? It was bound to ignite.
Public opinion was split.
Some called me an attention seeker, others saw it as a no-brainer.
A few were even intrigued by the Do Hyun-woo x Kim Ra-un combo.
But the hype faded fast—no follow-up evidence.
Reporters couldn't dig up squat without something to go on.
Probably some SSK employee blabbing—I hadn't even approached Kim Ra-un yet.
Couldn't, actually.
No SSK production approval.
Gong Seok-jun, headquarters manager, still harbored doubts about an E-sports drama.
"I get gaming as culture, but is it really commercial drama material?"
He'd checked Chinese hits but figured they wouldn't fly in Korea.
Bottom line: results needed.
At least eps 1-2.
Safely, 1-4.
That'd convince him and get Yoon CEO's sign-off.
"Let's rework the board for early ep 2. Shift main focus from Park Sung-hwa to team owner Han Guk-young."
-Got it. I'll revise and resend.-
Yeom PD's revisions dragged.
Ep 1 stayed close to original, but ep 2 expanded the world.
Swapping volleyball tone to E-sports, but the writer wasn't grasping it.
Intellectually, sure.
Dramas hinge on character arcs and conflicts—not how to spike a volleyball.
Pain lost, path reclaimed, conflicts in between.
Players swap balls for mouse/keyboard? Core stays same.
Just outfit change.
Problem: Yeom PD knew this but floundered.
Not effort—instinct issue. Unfixable...
Then massive reinforcements arrived.
-Wait, you're making an E-sports drama?
Gil Sang-hoon, Ko Young-tae.
Korea's hottest writers right now.
First call from Criminal Community writers, I thought they were protesting my next project.
They'd pitched collab ten-plus times.
Nope.
-Director, you might not know, but engineering guys and gamers are basically synonyms.
-We won't leak—mind if we peek at the script...?
Pure curiosity about the E-sports drama project.
Handed over script.
"...?"
Revision notes flew in.
What? Poaching the material?
Highjacking?
Nope again.
-Not fun?
-No detailed team docs?
100% pure passion.
With Yeom PD's OK, sent full 16 eps and proposal.
-Director Do...
-We wanna write...
-This time for real...
Incredibly, the two joined as assistant writers on At Your Fingertips.
8 years acting, 1 as CE—9 in the industry. First time seeing this.
Established hit writers assisting a rookie?
Square circle?
Fiction only?
"Hey, Hyun-woo."
"Yeah?"
"You got some dirt on them or something...?"
Gong Seok-jun's dead-serious question aside, it was reassuring.
I knew their talent best.
Genius writers.
Undeniable geniuses...
"No way—putting this much game detail in the script?"
"It's an E-sports drama!"
"Exactly. Not a docu..."
"Pull docu-level first, then edit to essence?"
"Film all this?"
"Can't?"
Crazy people.
Problem: Yoon Hyun-sol going crazy with them.
"Whoa, writers—love this. This 1v1 scene..."
"THIS captures the romance only pros have, right?"
"Tearing up watching..."
Set up writer office near SSK—Yoon Hyun-sol "commutes" there post-work.
Hangs with writers overnight, naps, then back.
Even Fri-Sun with Yeom PD joining—he punched in all three days.
Fri off to office, there till Mon morning.
Post OT logs for Yoon Hyun-sol?
Doesn't feel like work.
"How... that passion... Me, I...?"
Chae Seo-hee watched, biting nails in weird anxiety.
What's wrong with my team?
Me as lead the issue?
Monday morning, post gamer frenzy weekend.
Random call from Yeom PD.
"Just quit."
"Pardon?"
I shot up from my seat.
What?!
"Quit? You left broadcasting?"
"Yeah. MBY seemed cool with it too."
"Whoa, deciding something that huge so lightly? Our script's not approved yet..."
A low chuckle from the receiver—first time hearing Yeom Jae-moon laugh.
"Seeing Criminal Community writers woke me up. Them joining to help you..."
Not sure they're here for me...
"Gonna run full throttle."
"Even if it crashes before shooting..."
"My heart's already light."
Two days later.
Final drafts for eps 1, 2, 3 done.
Yeom Jae-moon's skeleton fleshed with Gil Sang-hoon and Ko Young-tae's details.
Many differences from my possession experience...
"Fun."
Just different.
No wrongs.
Satisfying.