Episode 4 Misunderstanding (4)

During the first preliminary round of Super Actor, the main producer took a break and let out an incredulous laugh in the hallway.

The reason was simple.

She, with her short hair, had just heard something shocking from Kang Woo-jin over the phone.

'You acted like that... just to have fun? Aren't you having too much self-esteem!?'

Although he had seemed uninterested, Kang Woo-jin's performance a few hours ago had been of an exceptionally high standard—so good it left jaws hanging. Despite delivering such an effortless yet breathtaking act, Woo-jin had coolly left for home. And now, with a slightly grumpy tone, he was saying he had been bored the whole time.

'This kid's confidence is definitely not normal.'

Still, the main producer maintained a faint smile as she replied into her phone.

"Haha, Mr. Woo-jin. Th-that was just for fun? Aren't you being a little too honest?"

Soon, Woo-jin's firm yet composed voice came through the speaker.

["Still, there's nothing you can do about it. Because it's true. Just forget about it."]

Forget? How could she possibly forget?---At this moment, the main producer was certain of one thing.

'He really doesn't care much about today's events. Acting seems to be nothing more than a hobby to him.'

Then another thought crossed her mind.

'But isn't it natural to want success when you have this level of talent? He's tall, has a great presence...'

Why would someone waste such an incredible acting ability? Her curiosity grew, but she found it difficult to understand his mindset. At least, from her perspective, it made no sense.

Regardless, one thing was clear—Kang Woo-jin had no intention of participating in Super Actor.

A rather disappointing outcome for the main producer.

'I don't know, but if it airs, attention will likely be focused on Kang Woo-jin. However, the scene couldn't be used without his consent.'

Therefore, the main PD—Although she let out a sigh of regret, she opened her mouth again.

"Yes, I understand. But wouldn't that be a real waste?"

["Not at all."]

Hearing his firm response, it was clear—he wasn't going to change his mind.

"...I see. All right. Then, I'll discard Woo-jin's footage."

A short silence followed. About five seconds. Then, Woo-jin's deep voice came through the phone again.

["Ahem, But...uh. Could I possibly get a copy of the scene I acted out?"]

"That one scene? Ah, your acting? It might be difficult to get footage from the main camera, but you can have the recording from a phone. It was filmed for YouTube Shorts."

["Ah—"]

"Of course, the angle and video quality won't be as good as the main camera, but it should be enough for reference."

["All right. Then, please send it to me."]

"For your collection?"

["Well... something like that."]

After hearing his answer, the main producer nodded, running a hand through her hair.

"Alright. Send me your number, and I'll forward it to you via chat."

["Thank you."]

"You'll get it by tonight at the earliest, or tomorrow at the latest."

["Understood. Then—"]

"Okay, I'll hang up now."

As the main PD put down her phone after finishing the call with Kang Woo-jin—

"Hey." A deep male voice suddenly called out from behind her.

Startled, she flinched, her shoulder still leaning against the hallway wall. Turning around, she saw who it was.

"Ah, senior! Why do you always appear out of nowhere? You scared me—you're not some kind of ninja, are you?"

The voice belonged to Producer Song Man-woo, one of the judges. He stroked his beard and asked,

"You were on the phone with that guy this morning, right? The one from the Design Department?"

The Super Actor main PD gave a faint, bitter smile. "That's right."

"Is he going to the second round of auditions?"

"No. I asked, but he's not interested at all."

"So...He's really just following a friend? If that's the case, there's no need to act, right?"

When he asked again, the main producer simply shrugged as if she didn't know either.

"I asked him too. But he said it was just his way for fun."

"To have fun? He turned this place upside down just for fun?"

"Yep. That's what he said."

Producer Song Man-woo stared at her for a moment before suddenly bursting into laughter.

"Hah! What a weirdo."

"Right? It's been a while since I've seen someone like him."

"But I get it. When someone reaches a certain level, they sometimes want to take a step back."

"...He just suddenly vanished. What is that guy?"

Producer Song Man-woo's expression turned serious. He didn't answer immediately but instead took out his phone.

"Did you get his number?"

His face showed clear determination.

.

One hour later. Kang Woo-jin's Apartment.

After the phone call with the Super Actor PD, Daeyoung Kim had plenty of questions. But Woo-jin answered them vaguely—there was no need to bring up the embarrassment of that morning. He planned to bury it as part of his own personal 'dark history'.

Upon arriving at his studio apartment, Woo-jin immediately collapsed onto the couch. His mouth was still stuffed with snacks. He carelessly tossed aside the scripts and scenarios he had received. Now that he was full and comfortable, drowsiness started creeping in.

But—"Hehe, I should finish what I was working on earlier."

Forcing himself up, he grabbed two script books from the pile. They were different colors—one light blue and the other dark purple. Of course, the titles were printed clearly on the covers.

[Elegant Eldest Daughter (Part 1).]

[The Gangster Prosecutor (Part 1).]

Both were the first parts of their respective series.

As he stared at the titles, Woo-jin tilted his head slightly.

"...These sound familiar."

Soon, he pulled out his phone from his padded jacket pocket and started searching. As expected, both dramas had already aired. "Elegant Eldest Daughter" was released last year, while "The Gangster Prosecutor" came out two years ago. Different networks, but both were broadcast on public television.

Then—After finishing his quick search, Woo-jin picked up the script for The Gangster Prosecutor. The script for Elegant Eldest Daughter had already been updated at Kim Daeyoung's house. This time, it was the Gangster prosecutor's turn.

"...It feels a bit weird to dive back in."

Woo-jin glanced at the black square next to the script. It was still swirling. Although reluctant, he let out a small sigh.

He pressed his index finger into the black square. A familiar tingling sensation spread through his hand. He had done this several times before, so he was already used to it.

Just then—Woo-jin closed his mouth as he found himself staring into endless darkness..

But by now, there was no need to be surprised anymore. Since this was already his third entry.

Anyway, Woo-jin turned around and checked behind him. A white rectangle floated at chest height. As expected—"There's Three now."

The number of white squares had increased from two to three. Kang Woo-jin slowly approached the white square, which was about the size of an A4 sheet of paper. He stopped just a step away.

"Let's see—"

He checked the text on the newly added white square. It started with the page script.

-[1/Page Script (Title: Unknown), Grade F (Unable to Judge)]

Since he had already seen it that morning, he quickly skipped past it. Next was Elegant Eldest Daughter.

-[2/Script (Title: Elegant Eldest Daughter Part 1), Grade E]

*-[This is a highly complete drama script. 100% readability.]

There was a clear difference between this and the page script. Then Woo-jin checked the third one.

-[3/Script (Title: Gangster Prosecutor Part 1), Grade C]

*-[This is a highly complete drama script. 100% readability.]

After reviewing all three, Woo-jin crossed his arms.

"They say you can only read 10% of a page script, but these two can be read 100%—"

Then, as he looked at the text again, something caught his eye, and he tilted his head.

"But what do these grades mean?"

Clearly, the three white squares were classified by grade. The page script was graded F, Elegant Eldest Daughter was E, and Gangster Prosecutor was C. It made sense that the incomplete page script was F, but—

"How were the other two graded?"

It didn't seem to be based on completeness. Both scripts were well-written, with high-quality content. In fact, both were past productions that had already finished airing.

As he pondered—"Oh, maybe—"

A thought suddenly struck Woo-jin, and he quickly spoke.

"Exit."

A large gray cloud engulfed him. When it cleared, Kang Woo-jin opened his eyes, now back in his studio apartment.

He had grown accustomed to it by now and didn't even groan.

"Humans really are creatures of adaptation."

Then, he picked up his phone again and searched for Elegant Eldest Daughter and Gangster Prosecutor once more. There was only one thing he wanted to check.

The viewership ratings.

The results appeared almost immediately.

[Elegant Eldest Daughter / Final viewership rating: 2.7%]

[Gangster Prosecutor / Final viewership rating: 7.1%]

There was a considerable gap between the two. After scanning a few articles, he found that Elegant Eldest Daughter was largely considered a failure, while Gangster Prosecutor was rated as just average.

As he analyzed the search results, Woo-jin stroked his chin.

"Elegant Eldest Daughter flopped, so it's Grade E. Gangster Prosecutor was average, so it's Grade C? Is this... is the grading system based on commercial success?"

Or was it based on the project's overall performance?

He wasn't entirely sure, but the pattern seemed to match. The grades and viewership ratings aligned.

However, this led to another question.

'...Then what about scripts or scenarios that haven't been released yet?'

These scripts had already aired, so their results were known. But there were plenty of scripts in the world that were still in production—or had been scrapped before even getting started.

What if Kang Woo-jin got his hands on those?

'Would they be graded too?'

It might be necessary to confirm, but after thinking about it for a moment, only one answer came to mind.

"Can I preview the value of a script or scenario?"

If that were possible, it would mean getting a glimpse of a work's potential performance before production. If that was true, wasn't this an incredible advantage?

Woo-jin's eyes sharpened as he muttered to himself.

He moved quickly. This time, instead of a book script, Woo-jin picked up a bundle of papers—a movie script he had received from Kim Dae-young. Since the film industry was different from television dramas, he wanted to compare the two. The cover of the script read: [Detective Agency]

Just as he was about to stab the black square that had appeared beside the script, he suddenly stopped.

"Oh, but I can't bring my phone inside, can I?"

If he could enter subspace while holding his belongings, things would be much more convenient. To test it, Woo-jin held his phone in his left hand and stabbed the black square with his index finger.

Once again, Woo-jin was swallowed by the pitch-black subspace. The problem was—

"Tsk, it doesn't work."

The phone he had been holding was gone. At this moment, Kang Woo-jin realized something.

He was completely empty-handed. This meant he couldn't bring any physical objects into subspace.

With a sigh, Woo-jin gave up on the experiment and turned his attention back to the white squares.

There were now four.

He stepped closer and read the text on the newest addition.

-[4/Scenario (Title: Detective Agency), Grade B]

*-[This is a highly complete movie scenario. 100% readability.]

A B-grade screenplay? Woo-jin was momentarily surprised.

"B? If it's B-grade, isn't that the highest so far?"

Did this mean the movie would be a major success? Would it bring in a huge audience?

But there was a problem—Kang Woo-jin knew absolutely nothing about the entertainment industry.

The situation was becoming more intriguing, so he quickly muttered, "Exit."

A large gray cloud swirled around him, and the next thing he knew, he was back in his studio apartment. Without wasting a second, he grabbed his phone and called his friend, Kim Dae-young. He needed to know more about the Detective Agency.

["Ugh... what is it?"]

Kim Dae-young's voice was thick with sleep. Woo-jin ignored that and got straight to the point.

"Hey, that movie script you gave me—is it any good?"

["Huh? Oh, Detective Agency? It's well-written, sure, but it hasn't even gone into production yet."]

"It hasn't started production?"

["Nope. I don't know much about it either—I got it from someone in my theater club last week."]

"So they're planning to produce it and release it in theaters?"

["No, man, you can't just assume that. It's not a commercial film. It's a short film. You know, like independent or art films."]

Woo-jin focused on one key point.

'A short film? And it hasn't even started production?'

Sensing Woo-jin's confusion, Kim Dae-young continued explaining.

["Honestly, I doubt the Detective Agency will ever get made. Plenty of commercial films get scrapped even after a full script is written, and for short films, the chances are even lower."]

"...So it won't be released in theaters? Then what happens if a short film actually succeeds?"

["Whoa, since when were you this interested?"] Kim chuckled. ["Well, if a short film is good, it can't exactly become a box-office hit. But it might win at competitions, awards ceremonies, or film festivals. That's usually the goal. If it gains traction, sometimes it gets remade into a full-length feature."]

"Oh, like the Blue Dragon Film Awards?"

["Yeah, or other festivals that specialize in short films. There are even some international ones, but success overseas is pretty rare."]

As soon as he heard the answer, Woo-jin ended the call abruptly.

"Okay, got it. Bye."

He didn't fully understand everything Kim had said, but one thing was certain.

A movie that hasn't even started production was already ranked B-grade.

Woo-jin had no idea what a B-grade truly meant, but one thing was clear—the chances of being able to preview a script's potential had increased significantly.

After thinking for a moment, Woo-jin finally moved his hand. About three minutes had passed. He picked up the book script for "Elegant Eldest Daughter."

"Well, I don't know yet... I'll just have to check gradually."

With that, Woo-jin began reading the script for Elegant Eldest Daughter.

The reason was simple. He needed to fully understand the script or scenario. That way, he could confidently choose a role.

He had made up his mind. "I can't just keep blindly diving in anymore."

He just wanted to avoid any more sudden deaths.

.

That Same Night—At the SBC building in Mok-dong, inside the Art Center—

It was well past 10 p.m. by the time the first round of preliminaries for Super Actor wrapped up. The once-crowded art center, filled with contestants, had now emptied. Only a few dozen staff members remained, cleaning up after the long shoot.

The schedule had been so grueling that everyone felt like they had been making green onion kimchi—utterly drained.

That included the three judges who had evaluated hundreds of participants. Among them, bearded producer Song Man-woo was the first to move. He suddenly stood up from behind the straight desk that served as the judges' table. His expression was urgent.

"Great work, everyone."

With a brief nod, he greeted the surrounding staff before quickly making his way out.

"Uh?? PD! You're leaving already?" A voice stopped him.

It was Hong Hye-yeon, a top actress who had been slouched over in exhaustion. As she lifted her head, her long, straight hair cascaded down her shoulders.

"You're not coming to the after-party? I heard they're serving beef."

Normally, Song Man-woo couldn't resist beef, but today, he waved his hand dismissively.

"No, I'll pass. I'm meeting Writer Park right away."

"...Writer Park? At this hour?"

At that moment, Hong Hye-yeon's expression shifted—something clicked in her mind. Without hesitation, she jumped up and grabbed Song Man-woo's arm.

"I want to go too."

"...What? Aren't you busy?"

"I am. But I happen to be free tonight."

"Still—I go there all the time for work. It's not a drinking meetup."

"You mean...Our work."

Her words carried weight. "Our work" naturally included top actress Hong Hye-yeon.

Before he knew it, Hong Hye-yeon was standing beside him, flashing a knowing smile.

"I saw you get a video from the Super Actor producer earlier."

These days, there was one person occupying the minds of both Hong Hye-yeon and Producer Song Man-woo.

No—not a person. A monster.

"That video... you're planning to show it to Writer Park, aren't you?"