The Director We've Been Searching For
But that wasn't the end of it.
After pushing past Highen's demands—whether it was legitimate business or just them throwing a fit—the art director sent out an SOS.
To build the set exactly as I envisioned, the budget was short.
Even with the extra 500 million added, it still wasn't enough. I was about to hit up the headquarters chief for help when I remembered what I'd said before.
"I think domestic AI companies will show interest too, since Korean Young is such a key character."
So I went around pitching to homegrown AI firms and landed sponsorship from a suitable one.
10 billion in exchange for the in-story AI company using their actual name, with the company name and logo exposed at least five times per episode.
For an OTT platform where straight-up ads could be tricky, there was no real reason to turn it down.
If the name had been too big and famous, maybe there would've been hesitation, but it was one I'd never heard of before.
Once again, the headquarters chief looked utterly baffled.
"A magic... wand?"
"Pardon?"
"One that spits out money when you tap it...?"
"Pardon?"
"No, never mind."
There was still plenty more work after that.
Kang Min-sik's sister-in-law burst into tears asking if her brother-in-law was really going back to that grueling life, so I rushed over personally.
Kim Ra-un vented his struggles with changing his voice, so I described the one I'd heard during Script Possession.
Hiring all the directing staff except Jung Hee-soo PD meant they kept drunk-dialing me.
In the meantime, I learned that Pi Do-seon in the script was none other than the idol Ruan.
It took days to convince his agency, who had no plans for solo activities yet.
But even through all that, I still felt like I was floating on cloud nine.
Because Jeon So-ra still hadn't turned us down.
Issues that would've normally dragged me down one by one felt like they'd flown by effortlessly.
"Hyun-woo, you seem possessed."
Chae Seo-hee, who'd been watching from the sidelines, even said that.
And finally.
A message came from Jeon So-ra.
It was true.
I woke up from the dream muttering to myself if I was crazy, then scrambled to get Jeon So-ra's agency's number.
For the record, Reporter Moon gave me the contact.
Even though he's in sports now, he's got deep roots in entertainment.
The moment I thought we were sunk, Jeon So-ra burst out laughing.
She laughed for a good while before saying,
And that was it.
Chae Seo-hee hounded me about how I'd cast Jeon So-ra, but I honestly had no idea.
Why did she say yes?
"I really don't know."
Anyway, that marked the end of casting for the main characters.
Of course, there were still tons more to cast.
A 70-minute, 16-episode drama typically features 120 to 130 characters.
That's counting only those with at least one line of dialogue, excluding extras.
About 7 to 10 are mains.
15 to 25 are recurring supporting.
30 to 40 pop up repeatedly over 3 to 5 episodes.
The rest are one-offs per episode.
I'd only finalized about 10 so far—the rest was just getting started.
But I figured we'd have to slot in around 5 recurring supports from D.P.
I'd broken my promise to prioritize them first.
What could I do? Superpowers took priority zero.
There'd probably be backlash about cronyism or broker scandals, but oh well.
No matter how much Yoon CEO liked me, I couldn't just keep taking favors.
Plus, D.P. actors at least guaranteed baseline competence, right?
Or maybe I could pull in 10 billion in production investment from them?
Just pay it back later.
The war-like pre-production phase was winding down, but one final step remained.
Appointing the director.
Jung Hee-soo PD was still whining nonsense like why keep the art director, sound director, directing staff, even Ko Young-tae and Gil Sang-hoon, but ditch him alone...
...Was it ditching him?
No, it wasn't.
Anyway, Jung PD seemed inwardly eager for the project, but I had no intention of using him.
Instead, I decided to follow Min-sik sunbae's advice.
Sure enough, the directors I'd pegged as promising had mostly hit commercial success within a few years.
That's why I'd committed to scouting at indie screenings.
If no perfect fit emerged, I'd have to go with the best available from those within reach.
And my indie viewing partner for this was...
"Do Hyun-woo!"
Jae-hyuk hyung.
He'd finally wrapped a year of overseas shoots and returned home.
I wanted to call Kim Ra-un and Seo Jae-yeon too, but Ra-un was swamped prepping his acting, and Jae-yeon was buried in ambassador gigs.
But damn, hyung always looked so good.
No one I'd met in person outshone Jae-hyuk hyung in looks.
"Hyung, how haven't you aged a day? Is this the power of maintenance?"
"You haven't aged either."
"But they say thirties guys always tell each other that when they meet."
"You think I'd fall for that?"
Fair. This hyung would probably still look sharp at fifty.
"Hey, did you see Manager Jang earlier?"
"Oh, right. How was he?"
"Oh, right? You're too chill."
"I've been slammed lately."
"Eyes full of venom. Watch your back."
His pride must've been wrecked.
Me stepping up proved his methods were wrong.
After chatting with Jae-hyuk hyung, we headed into the art house theater running an indie planning showcase.
It was a 7-hour marathon of recent releases, but...
"Meh, right?"
"Yeah."
No hits.
Indie scene has its floods of masterpieces and floods of duds.
Dunno why, but it cycles between bounty and famine.
Might be famine time now.
But I didn't quit—poured in a few more days.
After day one, Jae-hyuk hyung got busy, so I went solo until the finale, when Yoon Hyun-sol and Chae Seo-hee tagged along.
Hyun-sol, growing hooked on CE work beyond games, insisted, and Seo-hee stubbornly followed.
How long did she plan to compete with that useless Yoon Hyun-sol?
I wasn't confident I could outdo his obsession.
Still, no luck.
So I switched tactics.
Instead of hunting current directors, track down past ones.
Check on those whose directing had wowed me before.
Surely one with talent but bad luck had veered off track.
And then I found the one.
Shot down cold.
She had that uniquely feminine delicacy plus bold strokes—exactly my style.
Too bad.
Searched a few more, but no ideal fits...
Then stumbled on an indie film I'd totally forgotten.
Keep the Window Open
I'd loved it.
The male lead accidentally leaves his window open, sparking a romance. The sweet directing tickled your love cells perfectly.
But as it hurtled to the end, it flipped to Rashomon structure.
The guy got love because of the open window—but a tenant in the same building met a gruesome death because of it.
Clues to that horror hid like shards in the guy's fluffy romance.
The brutal contrast of two stories from the same coincidence in the same place was shocking.
At first, I thought two directors collabed due to the tone shift.
But it was one: Im Woon-jae.
Struck by the name, I dug into Im Woon-jae's other works. Genius confirmed.
Innate talent for shifting tones, modulating scene intensity.
Hard to believe he hadn't succeeded...
But curiosity led me to his current whereabouts, and I was floored.
What to call this.
My hunch spot-on? Or more successful than I'd dreamed?
Filming celebs, editing to hype the masses—same gig.
Just not movies.
Music video director.
The kind world-star idols lined up for.
Got Im Woon-jae's contact via DVX's Ruan.
They'd worked together on an MV, so they were tight.
Hesitated long after getting the number.
Felt like rejection incoming.
Making bank, he could've jumped back into directing anytime, right?
Maybe not big commercial, but indies for sure.
No activity screamed he'd lost the fire.
But had to try. Prepped thoroughly and hit his studio...
"Directing? For real?"
"Not locked in yet. Just meeting to..."
"Still!"
My worries were pointless.
Im Woon-jae was thrilled—made me suspicious.
But reading the script together, debating directing choices, it hit me.
His talent was still razor-sharp.
"For the E-sports matches, I think high-tempo with OST sync. Keyboard as piano, mouse as percussion. That rhythm hooks non-gamers."
"Park Sung-hwa early on? Off-center framing, push him to the edge. He's a bystander. Pull the frame in as he meshes with the team."
"Lee Young-han? Handheld could work. He's on the run."
I jotted his ideas, then asked,
"One thing: why no directing comeback?"
"Mm, probably complacency."
"Settling?"
"More like, failing a challenge now would end me for good. Kept prepping perfectly... but perfect prep doesn't exist? 'Next year.' Six years gone."
"Now?"
"You're the Gongbeomche director. Isn't this perfect prep? Truth? Jealous as hell watching it. Keep the Window Open had shades of that."
True. Similar vibes.
Liked how "jealousy" slipped out naturally over praise for me.
Showed drive to improve.
Truth, Im Woon-jae couldn't cover the whole drama solo.
No experience, commercial dramas unproven.
Pair with veteran DP, beef up B and C teams on his directing.
But core scenes our drama needed? He'd nail them best.
MV portfolio overflowed.
So...
"Looking forward to working with you, Director."
Decision made.
"Whoa! Seriously?"
Im Woon-jae went wild at my words, then,
"Oh! I can invest like 500 million too!"
...Best director ever?
Stepping out of Im Woon-jae's studio, October's crisp breeze swept pleasantly over me.
Autumn had arrived.