Chapter 22: The Answer Was Acting in Front of the Camera

More precisely, it was performing ad-libs with Dokkaebi Fire in front of a red-lit camera amid a crowd—this was Lee Tae-gyu's conclusion on how to increase the number of Dokkaebi Fires he could store.

It had been the same during the private audition. The audition room filled with staff and judges, cameras rolling to film the making-of, and his explosive performance powered by Dokkaebi Fire. It had felt a bit hazy back then, but after the changes that emerged following today's script reading, Tae-gyu was finally convinced.

It feels like it grows the more I act...

Of course, there seemed to be limits. Even on the day of the private audition, where both the scripted performance and his acting duel with Kim Hwan had been captured on camera, the Emotion Pocket had only expanded by exactly one slot.

So.

Just once a day.

Exactly that. Tae-gyu got the sense that this ingenious ability was sending him a message like, What's the rush? Take it slow and have fun along the way—

There must be some meaning to it.

Tae-gyu thought of the mysterious old man who had given him this power. It was strange. That day, not even a full month ago, now felt like it had happened months earlier, distant and hazy. Was it because his days were now filled with immersion in life, unlike before?

Tae-gyu suddenly recalled the old man's words.

"If you smile, things usually turn out okay."

Looking in the mirror, Tae-gyu unconsciously made the ridiculous face that summoned his Dokkaebi Fire.

Pout.

"...Huh?"

Tae-gyu's mouth fell open in surprise. In the mirror, above his face, a faint Dokkaebi Fire shimmered like heat haze.

Flicker...

By the time he instinctively reached out toward his own Dokkaebi Fire reflected in the mirror—

Poof.

It vanished. Tae-gyu stared blankly. This wasn't the first time he'd made that ridiculous face in front of a mirror. But seeing his own Dokkaebi Fire reflected there, even if just for a split second—what did that mean?

Is... something changing?

Come to think of it, over the past few days, he'd felt faint sparks of enjoyment while immersing himself in something. For Tae-gyu, who had long found life boring and always kept his distance from people, enduring such a raucous drinking party for so long was a monumental step forward.

These Dokkaebi Fires had shown him the taste of life itself while serving as ingredients and weapons to acquire even more. Having discovered a long-term method to obtain a fourth, fifth, or even tenth Dokkaebi Fire, Tae-gyu felt like he'd gained an army of a million.

...Alright.

Anticipating the even more immersive life ahead.

Flicker!

Tae-gyu flipped the newly copied third Dokkaebi Fire onto his face.

Around the same time, Ji Cheol-geun PD, who had received a summons from the bureau chief on his way to the after-party drinks, no longer bothered hiding his bored expression. What he'd thought would be a quick pep talk with the chief had dragged into second and third rounds, stretching into the early hours of the morning.

"You look like you'd rather be at the company drinks."

"...Not really."

In truth, Ji Cheol-geun had no need to watch his words. Nam Yoon-ju, the Drama Bureau Chief—a middle-aged woman sipping her straight liquor—had secured him a last-minute slot for this project, but he had already decided to leave SBC after this one.

"So, what's this about?"

"'What's this about'? That hurts my feelings. I just wanted to cheer on my junior now that filming's finally starting."

"This feels like more than cheering."

"現場 control grows with the time you spend listening to your senior's nagging. Anyway, how's it feel? Aren't you nervous? I still miss the set sometimes."

"Just doing what I gotta do."

DK Entertainment's scouting offer had changed Ji PD's attitude so much that he now responded indifferently to words from a chief who used ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to make him tense up even over texts.

Or rather, the true reason for the change in Ji Cheol-geun, who was nearing forty, boiled down to one thing: money.

After Disbelief Hell, the brief surge in fame and pride as a PD had shattered with every flop that followed. Once the rose-tinted glasses of professional pride were knocked off by repeated failures, all that remained to sustain him was cash.

Or had the world always been about money? Ji PD regretted getting caught up in the delusion that there was something more important, only realizing the truth too late.

Sip.

He knew the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠price of the whiskey shot the bureau chief sitting next to him at the bar had just finished.

"Aren't you overdoing it tonight?"

"I'm fine. From your company drinks to this—I'll expense it all. Thinking of doing something naughty today."

Ji PD smirked inwardly. Of course. Given what he knew of the chief's income, shelling out for this herself would sting. Pushing mid-forties and still unable to treat herself to an expensive drink on her own card...

...Pathetic.

He recalled Do Yoon-seop from DK Entertainment, who tossed around huge sums without batting an eye. The custom suit that screamed luxury at a glance, the pricey watch, the effortless confidence radiating from his bottomless wallet. Compared to that, his own clothes—or the chief's—looked downright shabby.

"Why didn't you switch jobs?"

"Switch jobs all of a sudden?"

"There's more than just this station. Cable channels, or production companies killing it on OTT. Slap a CP title on your resume and you could've jacked up your salary big time."

"Oh, what is this now."

Nam Yoon-ju's wrinkled lips curved slightly.

"I debuted here."

"Loyalty or something?"

"Not quite loyalty. The drama vibe here just suits me."

"Ah—"

Ji Cheol-geun unwittingly smirked.

"What was that? You just laughed like I'm pathetic."

"It's romantic. Nice."

"Jeez. The guy who couldn't even make eye contact as a rookie...

Since he was leaving anyway, Ji PD figured this was fine, but—

Thud.

A man placed his hands on both his and the chief's shoulders. Turning his head, Ji PD's eyes widened.

"Sorry, I'm late, right?"

"H-H-Headquarters Chief?"

The SBC heavyweight who oversaw not just the remaining Drama Bureau but also Variety 1-2-3 Bureaus, Radio 1-2-3 Bureaus, and more had appeared.

"Why so startled? Didn't I say I was coming?"

"It was a surprise. Anyway, Senior, give this kid a scolding."

"What now."

"The guy's heading into filming with his head in the clouds."

"Same as this place, one round here, please."

"Yes, sir."

After ordering from the bartender, Hwang In-guk shed his coat and sat beside Ji Cheol-geun. He reeked of booze, clearly already a few in.

Glancing back and forth between the chief and Ji PD, he drawled, "So, what wind's got you all puffed up?"

"Ask him."

"Don't need to—it's obvious our Ji PD's been busting his ass."

Caught between the chief and headquarters chief, Ji Cheol-geun looked flustered. There were limits even to leaving SBC. This potbellied fifty-something was an industry titan even Do Yoon-seop struggled to meet privately.

Pat pat.

Unable to react to Hwang In-guk's encouraging shoulder pats, Ji PD froze.

"I know our in-house PDs get no pre-planning support and have it rough. This one's another emergency slot—must be slammed."

"If you know, fix it."

"Just us? All terrestrial broadcasters are like this now. MBS had 70% of their dramas outsourced this year."

"Then just scrap the Drama Bureau. Guarding the last one alone—know how lonely that is?"

"Easy for a bureau chief to say."

Sandwiching Ji PD, Hwang In-guk bantered with Nam Yoon-ju before turning to him.

"Anyway."

Nodding toward the chief gulping her drink.

"Heard the chief hooked you up with Choi Sung-chul as cinematographer at the eleventh hour? That's gonna look slick."

"Ah... yes."

"But you think that'll beat Italian Romance? This ain't the movies."

"...Pardon?"

Flustered by the question directed at him—what win? Wondering the intent behind rehashing what he and the chief already knew—

"You don't think you'll win, do you? A captain never thinks that way."

Ji PD's irritation spiked at Hwang In-guk's piercing tone.

"Know why I like Kwak Writer? He's got that spark. Win or lose, being around him makes you wanna charge ahead."

Slowly twirling a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fresh whiskey shot between thumb and middle finger, Hwang In-guk continued.

"Back in the day, we were all like that. PDs and writers were the craziest in broadcasting. Not churning out formulaic hits like now—they had their own spark."

"Headquarters Chief."

The words burst out of Ji Cheol-geun. Something welled up inside him, reason unknown. Maybe praise for Kwak In-ho, who he'd clashed egos with regardless of results; the subtle digs comparing them; or just the inferiority complex of a third-rate PD scraping by without money or respect...

"Is that why you called me out? You don't trust me?"

"Watched the script reading."

Hwang In-guk pivoted, sipping his drink. The entire Monster City production process was relayed live to Nam Yoon-ju, who had apparently forwarded the unedited script reading footage—meant for the making-of—to the headquarters chief right away.

"Things have changed a lot since our time. Actors ad-libbing at readings would've had the writer ripping up the script and storming out back then. Kids these days are weird."

*Those two weirdos are the exception,* Ji Cheol-geun swallowed the retort.

Hwang In-guk pressed on toward the still-seething Ji PD.

"Han Joo-hyuk, fine. But that rookie... who was it?"

"...Lee Tae-gyu."

"Right, Lee Tae-gyu. How's a newbie got that spark? And nails it. Just when you forget, another lunatic pops up."

Hwang In-guk chuckled fondly, downing his drink.

"You were like that too."

"Pardon?"

"Don't remember? I was bureau chief when you debuted. Went to the investor site visit, needed the bathroom, and right before shooting—you threw a fit."

"..."

"Didn't care if I was chief or whatever—screaming about ruining the set, how I'd take responsibility, raging next to the investor about pointless condom PPL I'd secured. Face still burns thinking about it."

Ji PD paused at the memory.

"That UFO thing, right? Your debut. Total flop. Point is, you had spark back then."

"Why bring up the flop, Senior?"

"I thought it was fun."

"Agreed."

Nam Yoon-ju nodded with a laugh.

"Weird thing is, SBC drama PDs all have twisted tastes. Me, Hwang Senior here, even the higher-ups—they say it was worse when they started. Picking niche genres no one else touches, getting beat by ratings before snapping out of it."

Hwang In-guk grinned back at her.

"But isn't that the flavor of dramas? These days, they all look different but peel back and it's the same crap."

"Get to the point, Senior."

"Fine, fine."

Dismissing Nam Yoon-ju with a wave, Hwang In-guk took another sip, his face turning bitter.

"Our Drama Bureau might get disbanded. After the slots booked through next year end."

"...!"

"Only MBS and SBC have Drama Bureaus left among the non-cable big three. You know."

Not all that surprising. Stations outsourcing dramas had been the trend for ages.

"SBC might go full outsource next year depending on trends."

"No, you can't—"

"What am I, made of money? Gotta have the numbers too."

Competition and efficiency had killed off the old distinctions between broadcasters' drama bureaus, along with PDs infusing their personal flair through craftsmanship. From the stations' view—prioritizing advertisers and ratings—it wasn't bad, but...

"Poor Nam Bureau Chief, no shot at headquarters."

"Don't pin it on me. Who was whining that after you, only unlucky variety hacks get the title?"

"Wait, hold on."

Flustered, Ji Cheol-geun cut in.

"After next year... SBC's Drama Bureau gets axed?"

"KBC scrapped theirs ages ago. Pros handle it better ratings-wise."

"But suddenly—"

"Heard you're job-hunting."

"...!"

"Not shocked. Seen tons jumping ship when the bureau shrank to one."

Ji PD's eyes widened at the direct hit.

"If you're going, go. After Monster City anyway. But one question."

Hwang In-guk kept going.

"What do you think drama is?"

A beat of silence—

"Drama's for the losers. It's there on TV to console us."

Hwang In-guk downed his drink, eyeing the speechless Ji PD.

"Romance? Great. Sells well, hot pretty actors lift your mood, fun."

His glass hit the bar, empty.

"But when life's rough, I couldn't stomach the young folks' romances."

"Just hate MBS, Senior."

"That too."

Probably aiming at MBS's Italian Romance, SBC's unbeatable rival the last three years.

"How'd they all turn to romance."

"Trend, Senior. Even prison stories cram in romance."

"That's what's lame."

His thick fingers gripping an empty glass reddened slightly as he shook his head.

"For a boring life like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mine, no comfort watching the beautiful people romance beautifully and thrive."

He thumped his chest with his fist.

"Drama's gotta move hearts. Losers clawing up desperately, grinding through hell till something hot boils inside after watching."

Ji Cheol-geun, listening quietly, felt Hwang In-guk's earnest words pierce him.

"Your reading moved me today."

"What."

"I trust you, Ji PD. Always said it: main PD's top virtue is set control. Don't get down."

A bit drunk, Hwang In-guk snatched the glass before him and chugged, but Ji PD barely registered it.

"All those flops? From half-assing mass-appeal stuff."

Something massive, beyond mere cheer, loomed over him.

"Short version."

Hwang In-guk wiped his mouth, eyes sharpening.

"Big project in Variety 1 got canned—our PD and main MC busted for DUI together."

"Then."

Pulling out his phone, punching numbers, he turned the screen to Ji PD.

"This budget. All to your Monster City."

"...!"

Ji Cheol-geun gaped, counting zeros, as Nam Yoon-ju and Hwang In-guk nodded in shared understanding.

"Blow it on bombs, CG overload, exploding Bugattis or helicopters—do whatever."

Million-won leads but lunatic star, has-been writer, washed-up PD, outsourced Drama Bureau emergency slot, noir without a whiff of romance.

"So don't half-ass your exit. Pour your heart in for the last one."

To shove it in MBS's face, already crowing victory over this grim lineup.

"Let's... win once for once."