Flaws in a contract (part-2)

Sungjun tapped a finger against the tablet screen before lifting his gaze. "First, the film is based on Queen Jinseong's life. According to the script sent by the director, the movie ends with her abdication—meaning her character hasn't died yet. If this franchise extends further, showcasing the last bit of life of Queen Jinseong as a nun and followed by the rise of the Later Three Kingdoms, this contract binds Sae-ri-nim to reprise her role for a cameo."

The silence was deafening.

Sae-ri blinked, stunned by the observation.

Sangwoo's brows furrowed deeply. He immediately checked the contract again, scrolling through the pages with urgency. How had he missed that?

The three men on the production team exchanged brief, almost imperceptible glances.

The casting director coughed, choosing his words carefully. "We… hadn't discussed a sequel yet. But considering the scale of this project, it is possible the studio might consider one. However, even if we did, we won't include Queen Jinseong's character. She was done after abdication. She has no role. We wouldn't enforce—"

"The contract doesn't say that." Sungjun interrupted, tapping the screen.

Yejoon, the legal representative, frowned and took a deep breath. "Technically speaking, he's right. The wording does imply exclusivity to the franchise rather than just this one film. If there's a sequel, Kang Sae-ri-ssi would be expected to return, even if just for continuity's sake."

Sae-ri exhaled sharply, now visibly annoyed. "That won't do. Add a clause stating my role in any potential sequel will be a separate negotiation."

The executive producer gave an awkward chuckle. "Of course. We'll amend it immediately."

Sungjun nodded, satisfied, before his voice dropped into a more serious tone.

"Second issue—profit sharing."

The producer tensed slightly, but kept his smile. "Is there a problem?"

Sungjun's fingers tapped against the armrest of his chair, "Sae-ri-nim is promised 2 billion won plus 5% of profit sharing. The payment breakdown states she will receive an upfront 500 million won, followed by monthly payments of 100 million won, with the remaining balance upon film completion."

He looked up, his eyes unreadable beneath the cap's shadow.

"That's fine. But what's not specified here is whether the 5% cut is based on net revenue or gross revenue."

The producer's polite smile froze.

The legal representative immediately turned to his laptop, checking the contract's wording.

"It just says 'profit sharing'… but doesn't clarify gross or net."

Sangwoo's face darkened. "That's an important distinction."

Gross revenue referred to total earnings before expenses. Net revenue, however, meant after deducting production, marketing, and distribution costs. If it was net, Sae-ri could end up with almost nothing if the studio inflated expenses.

The casting director cleared his throat. "That's just an oversight. Of course, we meant gross revenue—"

"Then write it down," Sungjun said coolly.

The producer's jaw clenched slightly, but he nodded. "We'll clarify that in the clause as well."

A long pause settled over the table.

For the first time since the meeting began, the three men truly looked at Sungjun.

They had assumed him to be just a quiet, insignificant observer, but he completely turned around the whole scenario. The most affected person was the lawyer on the other side. He felt like Sungjun's attention to detail was surgical—almost unsettling. He was calm, but there was something about him that made others uneasy.

The café remained silent except for the occasional sounds of coffee machines humming in the background. The men on the production team were now visibly uncomfortable, their carefully curated confidence wearing thin under Sungjun's sharp scrutiny.

Sae-ri, however, sat comfortably with her chin resting on her hand, watching her younger brother with an amused glint in her eyes.

Sungjun tapped the tablet again and continued, his voice calm yet firm.

"Secondly, what about revenue shares from OTT platform sales?"

The legal representative, Oh Yejoon, who had been frantically making notes on his laptop, hesitated. "OTT sales?"

Sungjun's gaze flicked toward him. "Yes. If the film is sold to an online streaming platform—Netflix, Disney+, TVING—what percentage of those profits does Sae-ri-nim receive?"

The executive producer shifted in his chair. "Well, theatrical releases are the main focus here. Streaming deals are usually handled later."

"Then why isn't it in the contract?" Sungjun asked bluntly. "You've covered domestic and international box office earnings, but there's no mention of digital rights. If an OTT platform buys distribution, Sae-ri-nim's cut needs to be clearly stated."

A flicker of tension passed between the three production members.

Sangwoo narrowed his eyes. "He's right. These days, OTT sales generate just as much revenue as box office releases. If we don't define this now, we'll have no leverage later."

Yejoon sighed, adjusting his glasses. "We'll add it."

Sungjun gave a small nod before moving on.

"Third issue—reshoot and promotional obligations."

The casting director exhaled slowly. "What about it?"

Sungjun scrolled to the section in question.

"The contract states that the actress agrees to participate in reshoots and promotions until the film's theatrical release. But there is no set release date mentioned. If post-production delays the release for two years, does that mean Sae-ri-nim is obligated to keep reshooting and attending events indefinitely?"

Sangwoo rubbed his temples. "That would be a serious scheduling issue for her other projects."

Sae-ri raised an eyebrow. "I'm not pausing my career just because you can't manage your deadlines."

The director quickly interjected. "We don't expect that. The film will be released as planned."

Sungjun leaned forward slightly, his tone unwavering. "Then put it in writing. Add a clause specifying a timeline—her promotional obligations should not extend beyond six months post-shooting. Otherwise, it will interfere with her future work."

The producer exhaled sharply, nodding. "Fine. Six months."

Sungjun barely paused before continuing.

"Fourth issue—the public image clause."

The executive producer let out a quiet groan. "What now?"

Sungjun scrolled again, his fingers tapping the screen lightly.

"The contract states that the actress must maintain a good public image to protect the film's reputation until its release. However, this wording is too vague. What exactly constitutes damaging the film's reputation?"

Yejoon blinked, confused. "It means avoiding scandals."

Sungjun tilted his head. "Does it only refer to major scandals like criminal charges? Or does it extend to minor controversies? For example, if Sae-ri-nim expresses a political opinion on social media, and a few people get offended, would that be considered a breach of contract?"

The room went completely silent.

Sae-ri's lips twitched into a smirk. "Oh, that's a good point."

The producer pursed his lips, choosing his words carefully. "We only mean… major reputation-damaging incidents."

"Then write that clearly," Sungjun said simply. "Specify that this clause applies only to major criminal activities or verified scandals. Sae-ri-nim shouldn't be punished for public discourse."

Yejoon sighed again. "Understood."

Sungjun tapped the tablet once more. "Lastly—stunt performance requirements."

The casting director perked up, "Is there a problem with that?"

"Yes."

Sungjun's cold tone made the three men sit straighter.

"The contract states that the actress agrees to perform her own stunts to ensure realism. However, there is no mention of safety measures or injury compensation."

The director blinked. "We included a clause saying medical expenses would be covered."

Sungjun raised an eyebrow. "That's not enough. What happens if she suffers a career-threatening injury? Does the production offer long-term financial support, or will she just be replaced and forgotten?"

The legal representative froze.

The director stiffened.

Sangwoo's face darkened. "That's a damn good question."

Sae-ri crossed her arms, her voice edged with amusement. "So, if I break my leg on set, all I get is a hospital bill covered?"

The casting director quickly spoke up. "Of course not! We always ensure our actors' safety!"

"Then prove it," Sungjun said, placing the tablet down. "Include a clear injury compensation clause. If she gets injured on set, the studio must cover full medical costs, rehabilitation, and financial support for the duration of her recovery."

The executive producer wiped his forehead. "Fine. We'll adjust that as well."

A heavy silence settled over the table.

For the first time in the meeting, the production team looked genuinely shaken.

They had come here expecting a standard contract signing.

Instead, they found themselves completely outmaneuvered—by a young man in a mask and a cap.

Sae-ri, meanwhile, stretched her arms casually. "Well, that was fun. Now, fix the contract and bring it back to me."

Sangwoo smirked at the defeated expressions across from him. "You heard her."

Sungjun simply leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed.