Chapter 33
Chapter 33
A Profitable Venture
Realizing her work had been stolen, Jeong Da-hee immediately searched for the business card she had received from the production company. Anxiously biting her nails, she called again and again, but the other party never answered.
After about the fifth attempt, an electronic voice informed her that the phone was off.
‘What do I do?’
The fact that she had to keep working to make a living even in this situation made her feel even more miserable. Jeong Da-hee greeted a customer with a half-hearted welcome. Her search history was filled with terms like ‘plagiarism’ and ‘how to deal with plagiarism.’
‘Should I go public on a forum like Pann?’
But a similar case got buried before. Should I wait until the show starts airing? But will that even work?
Lost in thought, Jeong Da-hee spilled water on a customer and hastily bowed her head.
“I-I’m so sorry! I’ll clean it up right away.”
The man held up a hand, saying it was fine.
“It’s alright. You’re Jeong Da-hee, the writer, correct?”
“Pardon?”
Jeong Da-hee answered reflexively. Wait, I’m not wearing a name tag. How does he know my name? And he called me a writer?
The man in the suit took a business card from his inner pocket and smoothly handed it to her.
“This is who I am…”
Im Seung-hyeon wore the same gentle smile he had when he first met Lee Tae-gyeom.
There was no way the money-grubbing Yu Yeon-seo would let an investment go down the drain. When negotiating the contract for ‘Virtual Reality,’ he had slightly altered a clause.
“Let’s add one clause.”
In the event that the writer or production company infringes on another’s intellectual property rights, damages the actor’s image through social controversy, or becomes involved in civil or criminal legal disputes, the investor and actor, Yu Yeon-seo, may exercise his rightful claims.
The penalty for breach of contract would be three times the investment. Honestly, he was being generous.
“A penalty clause…”
The team leader from the production company, Uri Pictures, trailed off as he read the condition Yu Yeon-seo had changed. A penalty three times the investment was enough to make the company stagger. Scared?
“Oh? That’s strange… Surely there’s no reason our dear writer Hwang would breach the contract, right?”
“Of course. Our writer is always professional…”
Professionally plagiarizing other works? I guess that’s a talent in its own right.
“It’s just that the penalty clause seems a bit excessive…”
“Excessive? It’s not that different from a standard contract. Besides, with how much of my money is going into this, I can’t even add a clause like this?”
“Well… Yes, understood.”
In fact, he had instructed Halo Media to go overboard with the media play. As a result, dozens of articles had already established as fact that Yu Yeon-seo was interested in writer Hwang Mi-jeong’s script.
Naturally, sponsorship and advertising inquiries poured in, and some broadcasting stations were positive about scheduling it. With the synopsis already released, there was no turning back.
Seeing the production company’s hesitant team leader, Yu Yeon-seo delivered the final blow.
“If there’s anything you’re worried about, you can just resolve it before filming starts.”
Whether that meant meeting Jeong Da-hee and giving her money or trying to appease her with an offer to be an assistant writer, that was exactly what Yu Yeon-seo was hoping for. There was already plenty to pick apart in the script alone, but if it went to a lawsuit, it would be a long battle. He needed a decisive blow.
Hearing Yu Yeon-seo’s words, the team leader’s expression changed. He was probably thinking something similar.
“Shall we sign, then?”
Yu Yeon-seo picked up the pen and smiled brightly.
Caught between Yu Yeon-seo and Im Seung-hyeon, the clueless Lee Tae-gyeom’s eyes darted back and forth.
“No, seriously, what the hell is a ‘righteous power trip’?”
“Hold on, let’s hear what Mr. Im has to say.”
Frustrated, Lee Tae-gyeom pounded his chest with his fist. But Im Seung-hyeon and Yu Yeon-seo ignored him and started their own conversation.
“Did you get a bite?”
“Yes.”
After Yu Yeon-seo signed the contract, Uri Pictures, which had been ignoring Jeong Da-hee’s calls, contacted her first.
“Hello?”
(Hello, Ms. Jeong Da-hee. This is Kim Sang-jun, a team leader at Uri Pictures.)
Im Seung-hyeon had arrived at that exact moment. He had come back to persuade her again, as she hadn’t readily believed him the first time, thinking he was some kind of cult recruiter.
‘I even took a verification photo with the young master just in case… The timing is perfect.’
Lee Tae-gyeom had laughed his head off at the sight of two grown men taking a picture together. Im Seung-hyeon sat down across from Jeong Da-hee.
(You called earlier, but I was busy and couldn’t pick up. My apologies.)
As Jeong Da-hee floundered, unsure how to react now that she had finally gotten through, Im Seung-hyeon typed on his phone and showed her the screen.
Record. Evidence.
Quick-witted, Jeong Da-hee nodded and pressed the record and speakerphone buttons. She spoke in a trembling voice.
“I saw the news articles. Writer Hwang Mi-jeong’s synopsis for ‘Virtual Reality’ is identical to my ‘Dreaming.’”
(Ah, about that… Writer Hwang was having some difficulties with her writing and used it as a slight reference.)
“A reference? Is a fixer in a virtual reality setting a common trope?!”
(You can find it if you look. There’s nothing new under the sun, is there? Everything is similar.)
At Kim Sang-jun’s shameless reply, Jeong Da-hee grew agitated and raised her voice.
A slight reference is too ambiguous… Im Seung-hyeon tapped his phone, drawing Jeong Da-hee’s attention.
Stay calm.
Jeong Da-hee forced herself to take a deep breath. Right, getting worked up wouldn’t change anything.
“So, what’s the reason you’re suddenly calling me after ignoring all my previous attempts?”
(I admit we referenced your script, Ms. Jeong. So, I was wondering… would you be interested in joining as an assistant writer, even now?)
“What? My work, and you want me to be an assistant writer?”
(Or, since you helped with the initial concept, we could give you about 5 million won. That’s a generous offer… But wouldn’t it be better to join as an assistant writer? You could build up your resume, right? We’ll even produce your next project.)
Hwang Mi-jeong was set to receive 70 million won per episode for ‘Virtual Reality.’ For a 16-episode series, that was over 1.1 billion won. And they were telling Jeong Da-hee to take a measly 5 million and get lost.
“I refuse. I will exercise my rightful claim to my work.”
(Your rightful claim… And what will you do, Ms. Jeong? Go public? Are you going to sue?)
“What?”
(Even if you sue, it’ll take at least a year. By then, the drama will have already finished airing, you fool.)
Im Seung-hyeon pressed his temple at the man’s scolding tone. It wasn’t just the writer; the production company was a piece of work, too.
(Do you think you’ll even get any attention by going public? You remember what happened when writer Park Ji-hye’s ‘Oh My Master’ was made public on the forums, right? Do you know that she ended up just taking a settlement?)
Jeong Da-hee bit her lower lip. She knew about that case, which was why she had been hesitant to act even after her work was stolen.
(Tsk, the production is already confirmed and the broadcast schedule is set… Look here, Ms. Jeong. The leads are Yu Yeon-seo and Yoon Ha-neul. Setting Yoon Ha-neul aside, Yu Yeon-seo… do you think you can handle Juseong?)
Oh, that’s new. Listening in, Im Seung-hyeon, an employee of Juseong, raised a corner of his lip.
(What’s a mere aspiring writer like you counting on? You do know that if you get on writer Hwang’s bad side, you won’t survive in this industry, right?)
“Are you… are you threatening me right now?”
Despite her many controversies, Hwang Mi-jeong was a star writer earning over 70 million won per episode. An unpublished, rookie writer was no match for her.
(A threat? This is a proposal. Let’s add another 5 million and settle for 10 million. This is just how things work in this business.)
Kim Sang-jun of Uri Pictures found his own situation of begging a mere aspiring writer ridiculous.
This kind of thing was an open secret in the industry. If it weren’t for the unsettling penalty clause Yu Yeon-seo had added, he wouldn’t have even bothered contacting the original author to resolve this.
Even if it went public, they could just pretend not to know, and the drama would air until the end. After the legal battle was over, they could just pay a hefty settlement, and the matter would be closed.
(Ten million, or the assistant writer position. What do you say?)
“…”
(Or, we could be generous and offer you both. Not bad. I’d take it if I were you.)
Jeong Da-hee’s eyes welled up with tears of frustration. What was more humiliating was the thought that if she were alone, she might have actually taken the money and given up.
Hwang Mi-jeong, herself, apologize. I’ll think about it.
Jeong Da-hee looked at the man in the suit sitting across from her, calmly giving instructions.
A suspicious man who claimed to be from Juseong’s Strategic Planning Division. Moreover, he was supposedly the personal assistant of Yu Yeon-seo, the one who had torn her script apart right in front of her… The world was a scary place, so she hadn’t easily trusted him.
However, this suspicious man offering practical help was more trustworthy than Kim Sang-jun, who was looking down on and mocking her as a mere aspiring writer.
“If writer Hwang Mi-jeong contacts me personally, admits to plagiarizing my work, and apologizes, then I’ll think about staying quiet.”
(Hmm…)
On the other end of the line, Kim Sang-jun fell into thought. Was she the type to care more about pride than money? If so, this was easier. The only problem was persuading the incredibly prideful writer Hwang Mi-jeong…
(Alright, I understand. I’ll call you later.)
After hanging up, Jeong Da-hee let out a huge breath.
“You did well.”
“…What should I do now?”
Im Seung-hyeon grinned.
Having heard the whole story, Yu Yeon-seo expressed his admiration without a sound.
“She took the bait?”
“I instructed her to do as I said when writer Hwang Mi-jeong calls.”
“Good. From the looks of it, she seems sharp enough to handle it.”
She must have been frustrated and angry, but she followed Im Seung-hyeon’s brief instructions perfectly. Lee Tae-gyeom, who had overheard the conversation and grasped the situation, let out a hollow laugh.
“What’s gotten into you? I never thought I’d see you meddling for the sake of justice.”
“Meddling? No. It’s a profitable venture for me, too.”
Yu Yeon-seo would suddenly vanish, and Jeong Da-hee would post about the plagiarism on the forums at the right moment.
Then, when the reclusive Yu Yeon-seo reappeared to spice things up, Jeong Da-hee would get to clear her name, and Yu Yeon-seo would benefit by shedding a layer of his jerk image.
“Ah, of course…”
Just when he thought Yeon-seo might have gotten a little nicer, not a chance. Lee Tae-gyeom shook his head.
A law firm was ready to take the case to court if Jeong Da-hee wanted. Screwing over the production company and the writer was no problem with the shield of Juseong. And the broadcasting station that accepted the plagiarist Hwang Mi-jeong would get a taste of bitterness, too.
“So, that’s it?”
“No. The script is a bit of a waste.”
Not writer Hwang Mi-jeong’s ‘Virtual Reality,’ but Jeong Da-hee’s ‘Dreaming.’
Even using the automatic action mode to see it through his original self’s discerning eye, ‘Dreaming’ was a script destined for success. If ‘Virtual Reality’ gets a small taste of a broadcast slot before disintegrating into thin air, what happens to the plagiarized original? Will it just remain a dusty script in a production company’s corner?
‘If writer Jeong Da-hee wants…’
JSENM had a cable broadcasting station under its umbrella. JSTV.
Dramas and movies produced by JSENM were aired there, and with generous production budgets, it had produced many masterpieces. It was also gaining popularity among viewers for its diverse range of genres compared to terrestrial dramas, which were steadily losing viewership.
[I wanted to handle the production myself… Please let me take charge of the next film.]
…Should I use my mom’s connections?