Choi Man-sik wanted cash, so Lee Jin-woo gave him a shot.
"Not my company. The rep's Jo Young-joon, my buddy."
Lying, he sent him to Universal Investment (U·L·I·T).
"Thanks, hyung." Choi agreed instantly.
Surprised, Jin-woo teased, "Aish, what's this? You were all shy before."
"Your buddy, not you. You remembered me, hooked me up. I'm grateful."
Fiddling with the new phone, Choi clearly had something to say.
"Hey, pocket it. Say nothing, or I'm mad."
Caught, Choi scratched his head, tucking the phone away.
"Hyung, first paycheck, I'm treating you."
"Deal." Jin-woo agreed.
"Young-joon, it's me, your Jin-woo hyung. Who else?"
"Hyung, you know what time it is here?"
Jo Young-joon rubbed his head, sitting up, groaning. "Aish, something up?"
"Nah, got a favor. My buddy needs a job. Cool with you?"
"…Oh, your guy? No problem. I'll call my secretary."
"Sweet, thanks. I owe you dinner… You're working hard."
"Ne, I'll hold you to it. No dinner in Seoul, I'm not letting it slide… Hyung?"
Jo pulled the phone away, helpless. "Aish, hung up again. Can't let me finish?"
Pointing at the phone, Jin-woo said, "Done. Let's get you there."
"Like this?" Choi gestured at his hypebeast fit, more comedian than worker.
"Report first, then clothes." Jin-woo led him to a bustling commercial tower.
13th floor, elevator opened.
A plaque greeted them: U·L·I·T, Universal Investment Welcomes You.
"C'mon!" Jin-woo walked through the glass doors. A pretty receptionist stood.
"Annyeonghaseyo, how can I help?"
"Rep Jo sent me. We spoke."
"Ne, one moment."
She called the rep's secretary.
"Annyeonghaseyo, I'm Jang Young-ho, Rep Jo's secretary. He just called."
Refined, bespectacled, Jang looked scholarly.
Jo Young-joon picking a male secretary? Odd.
Wasn't he a skirt-chaser, VVIP at Itaewon's high-end clubs?
"He's yours, Man-sik-a, fighting!" Fist raised, Jin-woo left.
He didn't want Choi knowing he was U·L·I·T's chairman.
When Choi had enough skills and ambition, Jin-woo would back him.
This shitty life deserved to give regular folks a sliver of hope.
Stepping into the elevator, a transparent subtitle flashed.
[Triggered Hidden Task: Help a true friend regain confidence.]
[Task completion: 73%. Reward calculation in progress.]
[Reward issued: Sincere Friendship.]
[Sincere Friendship: When the target is called a friend, the host's words and actions appear more sincere.]
[PS: Only sincerity wins hearts.]
Gazing at his reflection in the mirror-like elevator door, his smile radiated sincerity.
"Aigoo, gotta make more friends. More friends, more paths. Nice!"
Zy Plus Entertainment, VIP lounge.
Lee Jin-woo met Choi Min-sik, one of Chungmuro's three titans, Korea's "Fa Ge."
Off-screen, the guy was chill, warm, loved jokes, and quips.
Always laughing, easy to vibe with.
"President Lee, after reading the script, I told my agent, I'm in."
Choi Min-sik glanced at his agent, who nodded, confirming.
"Now, I just wanna know when I'll see the full script."
He was dying to know the whole story.
Just his part kept him up nights, tossing.
Good actors lose sleep over great scripts.
"Once your agent and Rep Yoon hash out details, I'll hand you the script myself. How's that?"
"Perfect, let's do it!" Choi Min-sik rubbed his hands, eager.
"Here, tea."
Jin-woo gestured, inviting him to try his brewed tea.
"Brought this from Incheon's Chinatown, special order."
"Oh, really?"
Choi Min-sik eyed the mini tea set, curious. "This wood's pricey, huh?"
"Ne, solid rosewood, carved by a master over two months."
"Wow, luxury, pure luxury!"
"Like it, Min-sik hyung? Take it when you leave."
"Oh, for real?"
"Of course. Meeting you, I felt a bond. Compared to our friendship, what's this?"
His sincere smile gave Choi Min-sik a familial warmth.
Aigoo, what a great president.
Really…
If they'd met years ago, he'd have joined this crew. They'd be family.
"Hahaha, President Lee… No, Jin-woo-ya, let's stay close. Outside, I'll stick to President Lee."
"Why?"
"So folks don't think this old guy's bullying you with age."
"Hahaha…"
Smart, mature folks with mutual interest—harmony breeds profit.
Next door, Yoon Hye-na's talks with the agent weren't as smooth.
She lacked industry connections and know-how on unspoken rules.
But her reliable team covered her gaps, keeping her strong in talks.
This wasn't a showdown; the vibe stayed friendly.
The only snag: screen time and pay.
The agent wanted the best deal for his client.
They came because Choi Min-sik insisted.
And CJ's involvement as a main backer.
Otherwise, a no-name company wouldn't warrant the trip.
The 40 billion won budget? Not a peep, like they were doing a free cameo.
But Yoon Hye-na wasn't stingy on pay.
This was a start, with more collabs ahead.
Choi Min-sik's box office pull was worth it.
Plus, the President kept saying, "This price is honest."
After two hours, they nailed the details.
Choi Min-sik's pay: 660 million won, pre-tax, about 3.6 million USD.
A 40 billion won film, with a star-studded cast, and salaries under 20% of the budget.
Honest, so honest!
Jin-woo paid gladly.
But to Son Kyung-sik, it was still high.
He'd have capped it at 600 million.
Those guys—treating people like dirt!
Jin-woo loved it…
The more they squeezed, the more his generosity shone.
Treating people humanely reaped bigger rewards.
"Alright, I'll handle the rest."
Son Kyung-sik thought differently: treat dogs like dogs.
Too kind, and dogs forget their place.
Get bitten, and even killing the dog, the wound still hurts.
"Director?" Jin-woo pressed.
Son clapped, saying, "Oh, meant to tell you. Park Chan-wook. We got Park Chan-wook, you know him?"
Park Chan-wook, philosophy grad from Sogang University, started as a film set grunt and critic.
His early low-budget flicks, limited by funds and niche themes, flopped.
In 2000, Joint Security Area showcased his talent, smashing box office records.
Millennium's top-grosser, Korea Film Awards' best picture, Berlin Film Festival nominee—honors crowned him.
It also won him his dream: creative freedom.
2002's Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance and 2003's Oldboy were his long-held ambitions, life's works.
Now, he was one step from finishing his vengeance trilogy.
"He agreed?" He'd be deep in his trilogy's finale.
How could he spare time for someone else's project?
It wasn't about quality—his heart and energy were tied to his lifelong goal.
With the first two hits, how could he divert focus?
Energy matters most. Great work needs total commitment for the best result.
Jin-woo didn't want connections ruining his script.
"I'll convince him… But you're right, it's a concern."
If Park's heart wasn't in it, a flop would hurt.
Son didn't care about Park's rep or career, but real money losses? Unacceptable.
"How about I try?"
Screenwriters turning directors wasn't new in Korea.
But someone with one script, no set experience, directing? Unprecedented.
Yet, Son Kyung-sik was persuaded.
Jin-woo's storyboard drafts—shibal~
Genius exists.
For safety, Son demanded two seasoned assistant directors.
Their job: help him nail the 40 billion won blockbuster.
A flop, and CJ… Son Kyung-sik…
They'd be the industry's laughingstock for a year, branded failures.
(End of Chapter)