Crossing the Line
A spacious studio apartment with a clear view of the Han River at a glance.
True to the owner's personality, the space contained nothing but functional items, and Jang Gi-un was there.
He smirked faintly as he played a 2-minute-12-second video—long for a teaser trailer.
"So he really is a genius, huh?"
Then I'll have to match that.
He murmured quietly to himself and closed his laptop.
Did we get cursed or something?
Why does a problem pop up every time we release something?
It had only been four days since the first teaser trailer had skyrocketed buzz, and now this trash fire of an issue had erupted.
It was the morality controversy surrounding director Im Un-jae.
As it turned out, there were problematic music videos among those directed by Im Un-jae.
This wasn't just about good or bad directing.
A boy group had been criticized for overly sexual symbolism, and a girl group had been slammed for ripping off an overseas artist's concept.
Fans of those groups, who had suffered through tough times because of it, had started attacking Im Un-jae.
But something felt off about this.
Sure, fans might dislike a music video, but this didn't seem like a typical reaction.
A suspect came to mind, but first, he tried to resolve the situation by calling director Im Un-jae.
An unexpected response came back.
Since he was blaming himself for everything, there was nothing to say.
After hanging up with director Im Un-jae, he sank into thought, only to spot Chae Seo-hee with her usual calm expression.
Kwon Cheol, No Jae-wook, even Yoon Hyun-sol were all on edge, but she alone seemed at peace.
Her face was practically a desert fox.
"Why aren't you worried?"
"Worried about what?"
"We have a problem."
"You'll fix it."
"What if I can't?"
"Then I'll worry about it all at once later."
What was this unsettling feeling from her overwhelming trust?
Then Chae Seo-hee asked,
"So, no solution yet?"
"...I have one in mind."
"What is it?"
There was an old adage, wasn't there?
Simple is best.
"Simple is best."
Choi Ha-il leaned back in the van seat, exhausted from the nonstop promo schedule for Oxygen Alert.
"Aigoo, I'm dying."
It was hard to believe those words came from a twenty-year-old, but it had been brutally intense.
Tvic Korea must have poured a fortune into promotion—the schedule left no room to breathe.
Not that he was complaining, of course.
Far better than sitting idle after filming.
While his manager schmoozed with reporters, Choi Ha-il pulled out his smartphone.
Logging into NewTube, Oxygen Alert thumbnails dominated the algorithm, but At Your Fingertips ones slipped through.
'At Your Fingertips...'
Tvic thought he'd rejected it due to agency policy, but that wasn't true.
Choi Ha-il had chosen Oxygen Alert himself.
The reason was simple.
The character Pi Do-seon felt uncomfortable.
Looking at Pi Do-seon's emotional arc and backstory stirred unpleasant feelings.
He could probably act it well... but
'Why bother?'
If there were no alternatives, maybe, but Oxygen Alert had appeared.
And honestly, At Your Fingertips' premise felt a bit childish.
Liking games in real life was different from acting a gamer.
Most game scenes were montages in the script, but key ones couldn't be faked that way.
He'd end up dramatically pounding a keyboard or mouse, pretending it was grueling...
Cringe.
No matter how he thought about it, it'd be embarrassing.
That's why he'd passed.
Seeing Im Un-jae get roasted the last couple days made him feel he'd dodged a bullet.
As Choi Ha-il scrolled SNS with those thoughts, a post from the At Your Fingertips cast—whom he'd followed to avoid bad blood—caught his eye: director Im Un-jae's apology.
A textbook apology with zero excuses.
Honestly surprising.
Most directors, regardless of experience or age, were stubborn as hell.
You needed that stubbornness to be called "director" in this industry.
'How's the reaction?'
Choi Ha-il checked the comments.
Teaser?
Curious, he opened NewTube and saw the freshly uploaded second teaser for At Your Fingertips.
Choi Ha-il hit play without much thought, then muttered with a sour expression.
"...This is what they bashed? Me?"
The teaser's power—which had wowed the cast on set—was formidable.
Originally planned as the third teaser in music video style, it was bumped to second due to the situation.
Released ten days early too.
Thanks to that, the forces attacking Im Un-jae vanished in an instant.
Joo Young-hoon's handiwork, probably.
He'd suspected as much, and seeing the attackers disappear overnight confirmed it.
Could be Jang Gi-un, but unlikely.
Jang Gi-un ignored even his own emotions, moving only for pure gain.
What did he gain from sabotaging At Your Fingertips now?
If it failed, he could claim his management style was right... but inefficient and abstract.
It'd cost massive time and money for vague reputation gains, with no guarantee of success.
Not Jang Gi-un's style.
He'd been counterattacked, but smearing 'Do Hyun-woo' to promote '0% Algorithm' was low-cost, high-return.
Anyway, the teaser stunned more than the public.
"Hey, who's Do Hyun-woo?"
"Thought he was just some indie film/MV guy with chops..."
"For E-sports? Perfect fit maybe?"
SSK staff whispers followed him everywhere.
Time flew in this atmosphere.
Like their first and second teasers, Oxygen Alert dropped its second and third.
Reactions were strong again.
Teasers highlighting the cast's fiery acting outside Tae-woong.
People openly debated which was more exciting.
Then August 7th, Thursday, arrived.
Episodes 1 and 2 of Oxygen Alert launched on Tvic.
#1 in 5 Asian countries including Japan, Hong Kong, Taiwan.
Top 10 in 53 countries including North America.
All metrics—viewer retention, sustain rate—top-tier.
Oxygen Alert Episodes 1-2 Records
Country rankings were obvious, but retention data usually took a week.
He knew via Kim Seong-tae, but principle held.
Yet from morning, SSK buzzed with Oxygen Alert's raw data.
Thanks to Team 3 CEs hyping it on the marketing floor.
Probably saying it loud for him to hear...
Do I really have social issues?
Why so many enemies?
He hadn't clashed much with CEs, even if Joo Young-hoon was out.
"Doesn't this beat Criminal Community?"
"Gotta say yes."
Raw numbers favored Criminal Community.
But comparing was apples-to-oranges.
Oxygen Alert's total watch time was double.
Double influx, yet metrics nearly matched—meaning top retention despite higher drop-off risk.
Oxygen Alert was exceptionally well-made.
Probably 15% ratings equivalent.
Above Youngperal Start.
He personally enjoyed episodes 1-2 a lot.
Jeong Ki-jun had ditched mass-appeal acting for raw basics—refreshing.
Separate from feelings on Ko Hak-su or Joo Young-hoon; judge works objectively.
But plenty wanted to see his face fall.
Including Joo Young-hoon.
They crossed in the lobby as he grabbed coffee.
Different floors for Team 3 and Team 4, but bound to happen.
They'd ignored each other before... but today, words brewed.
Sure enough, Joo Young-hoon spoke with a subtle smile.
"Should I say thanks?"
Thought it'd be about Tae-woong over Kim Ra-un, but no.
"Data shows I rode Criminal Community's subscriber wave."
That?
"Congrats. Nice when colleagues help."
Thought it polite, but Joo Young-hoon's face twisted.
Why so scary?
Gentlemanly enough, right?
Suddenly recalled Ko team leader's words.
What face am I making?
"Still convinced your work's better?"
"Mm, yeah."
"What?"
"Producers need confidence in their own work, right?"
After, Joo Young-hoon glared, so he added forcibly.
"Enjoyed Oxygen Alert 1-2. Acting top-notch, directing too."
"..."
"Serious."
More?
"Gotta go."
No more words, so he nodded to pass—but Joo Young-hoon grabbed him.
"Hey."
"'Hey'? Kinda rude."
"What gives you the balls to strut like that?"
"That's what I wanna ask. Why hate me so much? High school grad? Kim Seong-tae?"
"..."
"Handing me Criminal Community, isolating me in Team 3—was that all you, senior? Should I beg to crawl under after beatings?"
Genuine confusion, but Joo Young-hoon stayed silent.
"Senior, I love making dramas. Can't we just work quietly?"
"Quietly?"
"Yes. Ethics committee, budget padding... We all know. Pretending 'cause busy. Or dig into why you got booted from head to satisfy you?"
"...!"
"Anyway, congrats on Oxygen Alert. Hope it keeps succeeding."
Half sincere.
Fine if Joo or Ko failed, but actors and work innocent.
He passed Joo Young-hoon, entered the elevator.
Mirror showed normal face.
Ko team leader must've joked.
Joo Young-hoon sat, breathing ragged.
Moments ago, mood soaring; now like doused in filth.
"Fucking bastard..."
Nearby CEs flinched, but no energy to care.
Looking back, from first meeting.
Behind Do Hyun-woo's feigned politeness lurked menace.
At first, thought Kim Seong-tae's puppet.
Then realized: Do Hyun-woo had a line.
Cross it, and merciless.
So he needed stomping.
Let him be, and he'd become big trouble—unshakable dread.
Shouldn't have crossed the line?
Joo Young-hoon startled at his own thought, scowled.
Shook it off, surfed net.
Oxygen Alert's success might soothe.
But.
"What the..."
Hot trends, real-time, buzz posts.
Moments ago, all Oxygen Alert.
Now all changed.
To 'Jeon So-ra Comeback'.