WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Potter
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◈ The Genius Writer Who Will Never Fall Again ◈
Chapter 25: To You, Who Will Be Sunny and Blue Tomorrow (4)
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Issues were buried by other issues.
It was one of the industry’s time-tested methods, and Du-ho had become its latest victim.
They could not possibly know the exact chain of cause and effect, but with an incident exploding in this way at this exact moment, something felt off.
‘There is! There’s definitely something behind this!’
There was no time to respond.
Everything happened far too quickly, from the news reports to the police mobilization.
Du-ho’s face spread across the entire country, online and offline alike. The public was furious at an issue so massive that an operation gaslighting adoptees seemed insignificant by comparison.
Some people were especially sensitive to that tide.
“We’re from the precinct. Please come with us.”
“N-no! It wasn’t me!”
“You can explain that at the station. You have the right to appoint legal counsel...”
“Argh! Let go! Let me go!!!”
The police moved swiftly.
The circumstantial evidence was far too clear, and the process raced ahead.
From the initial report to anonymous interviews with victims, everything happened in an instant, tightening the noose around Du-ho.
An unusually swift investigation in custody began.
Du-ho was thoroughly isolated from society.
Like many villains, however, Du-ho did not readily admit to their crimes.
More important to them was their certainty that someone had intended to create this chain of events.
And unfortunately, Du-ho still could not forget the days when they possessed enough authority to more than satisfy their bloated ego.
Unable to bear the feeling that they were under attack, they flew into fits whenever they sensed someone looking down on them.
They shouted and raged, but the more they did, the more they realized that nothing remained for them anymore.
“Do you know who I am!? Huh!?”
“Haa...”
The human mind was not so sturdy.
Especially not for people incapable of self-reflection, or people who had risen to positions that did not suit them.
When even the public and the social order turned away from them, the light of life no longer remained in Du-ho’s eyes.
Rage, despair, and fear.
Right when the thought that everything might truly be over crossed their mind.
“...No. No, I’m not finished yet.”
Clinging to the bars, Du-ho pleaded.
“H-hey. Just one phone call. Huh? R-right! You said I have the right to appoint a lawyer! Let me call someone I know so I can find one! Huh!?”
There was still a way.
At least, that was what Du-ho thought.
After all, were they the only one tangled up in that affair?
Surely, they could clear this obstacle away for them.
They had more than enough power to do so.
But there was something Du-ho had not expected.
[This number is not in service.]
“Uh...?”
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Of course.
No matter what Du-ho thought, relationships formed through such disgraceful dealings were not built on loyalty, but on pure transactions.
If they had power to spare for someone falling into the abyss, cutting them loose would be much faster.
They had been abandoned.
The moment they realized it for certain, it felt as if their blood were rushing backward through their veins.
‘Y-you bastards... You knew I’d die alone like this!!!’
“AAAAARGH!!!”
They screamed and convulsed.
Just as they resolved to confess during questioning and drag every name they knew into this, someone arrived.
“Hello. I’m public defender Yu Jin-seok.”
A lawyer with a bright, salesman-like smile was assigned to them.
Du-ho had seen that face before.
“Ah...?”
Only then did Du-ho realize it.
The things they had dealt with were something far larger, something capable of controlling even a small disturbance like this.
Something far too high for the fallen Jo Du-ho to reach.
Why the investigation had moved so quickly.
Why they had been isolated so completely.
Even how the circumstances and traces left outside would be edited.
They understood everything else as well.
“Suspect, I will assist you with the utmost sincerity. So long as our suspect cooperates well.”
At last, Du-ho realized that even struggling was meaningless.
“...Heh.”
“Hmm?”
“Keh! Hehehe...!”
Du-ho laughed as they cried.
Laughing like a madman, they sobbed more bitterly than anyone in the world.
“It was all because of that bastard! It was Han Jae-kyung’s fault!!!”
“...Please tell me in detail.”
“That bastard looked down on me, and that’s why I was driven out of the drama department! Huh!? The reason I decided to get revenge on him, the reason I got in touch with those idiots, it was all part of a plan!”
Du-ho rambled, desperately trying to name Han Jae-kyung as the cause.
But really.
“Hmm...”
No one in the world listened to a madman’s words.
Especially not those who knew why Jo Du-ho had been pushed out of their producer-director position in the drama department, and how deeply they had always been consumed by inferiority and authoritarianism.
“Yes, I see.”
The lawyer merely smiled and pretended to listen.
All the while, they thought how pathetic Du-ho looked, trying to invent a chain of cause and effect full of holes simply because they needed to blame a personal grudge with no logic behind it.
And so, one person was buried by society.
There was an irony in the process.
[Sword Pact, One Lord surpasses 30% ratings. It closes its fifth week at 31.2%, achieving this year’s highest ratings...]
[Magwipyeong, this is what a compelling villain looks like.]
The public, who had been so enthralled by Jo Du-ho’s crimes, burst into cheers during the episode where Magwipyeong, the hidden mastermind of Sword Pact, One Lord, first appeared.
With the truth laid bare, the evil of reality could never be as beautiful as fictional evil.
* * *
I went out for a walk for the first time in a while.
Early August.
The sun was scorching, hardly ideal weather for a walk, but it felt too good a moment to stay shut away in my little room.
Fortunately, walking along Cheonggyecheon Stream took some of the edge off the heat.
‘That takes care of it.’
The troublesome business was over.
One old, poisonous connection had fallen completely.
Jo Du-ho would never see the light of day again.
Given the attitudes of this era, the central figure in a case that enraged the public would almost certainly receive the maximum sentence established by precedent, unless they had powerful backing.
It had been that way in the past, and it was still that way now.
I had efficiently tied in Ryu Cheong-a’s parents, too.
They had not been involved in this incident, but the fact that someone knew they had met with Jo Du-ho the day before the issue erupted was enough of a risk right now.
Those people would leave the entertainment industry and never return.
Before then, they would tremble in fear of the judgment awaiting them under the law.
Hadn’t everything been handled cleanly enough?
It made me feel strangely refreshed.
If there was one thing caught in my throat, though.
‘As expected, they won’t be exposed.’
The ones connected to Jo Du-ho, the ones who had driven Ryu Cheong-a to her death, had hidden their tails again this time.
It was not surprising.
They had their own history, and even in the future, when all sorts of corruption came to light, they had continued living high and mighty. Why would they be exposed over something like this now?
I had not expected it.
‘Slowly.’
One step at a time.
That was how I would proceed.
So I should stop dwelling on thoughts that soured my mood.
There was plenty of good news right in front of me.
‘The ratings have reached 31%.’
It had already set a new high among this year’s dramas.
No matter how much I thought about it, I could not help feeling excited.
More than anything, this was the first drama in my career to make it through five weeks.
Still, it was not a figure I could celebrate without reservation.
‘The early growth spurt lasted too long.’
There would be no dramatic rise from here.
At low ratings, it was a fight for shares among a drama’s core audience, so it was easier to pull viewers away. But what happened after that?
People commonly regarded 20% ratings as the standard for a hit.
Even for dramas, a mainstream genre, that was about the realistic number the market could support.
‘This is outside the market now.’
Starting at 30%, it only worked if it felt as though the drama were devouring the entire market share by itself.
A simple calculation meant that 40% or 50% would make it a drama that half the country eagerly awaited.
Was that a number you could reach simply by making something good?
No.
Trends, luck, momentum, everything had to align for such a number to appear like a miracle.
The drama practically had to become a social phenomenon.
With external variables playing such a huge role, it was not something you could achieve just because you wanted to.
‘Still, considering it started in the 4% range, this is a solid result.’
Because it was a medium that had to end within eight limited weeks, a low initial audience meant losing precious time to draw in viewers, which capped the possible peak.
Especially now, with ten episodes already aired.
Everyone sensitive to trends had already been drawn in, and even if more viewers came, it would be difficult to expect the same dramatic rise as before.
‘Thirty-five to thirty-seven percent, maybe.’
I clicked my tongue.
It did not feel quite satisfying.
Anyone hearing me would probably say, “Have you been shot in the head?” or “You’re getting awfully greedy.”
But after seeing the first week pull in 19%, I could not help feeling disappointed.
‘I want to take a shot at 40%.’
With that thought, I looked up at the sky.
It was carelessly blue.
The long monsoon season had finally ended.
I stared at it blankly for a while, then turned around.
‘I'll have to leave it to the heavens.’
Besides, this would not be the end.
Even so, we had achieved surprising results, and now we could aim for what came next.
Just as I settled my mind.
Ding!
[Seong-hun: Jae-kyung, would autumn work for that dinner? You should have more time around when the drama ends, and my father says he’ll come too. I think we need to adjust the schedule again.]
A private dinner with the department chief.
It made me feel as if I had really made something of myself.
[Okay. Set it up however you want.]
[Seong-hun: Cool, cool.]
After reading the reply, I started walking again.
Normally, I would have returned home.
But not today.
‘It’s the final shoot. I should show my face.’
Even putting Ryu Cheong-a’s scandal aside, the unusually long monsoon and the schedules that had flooded in for the actors after the show’s success had kept them from filming just one scene, the ending.
The wrap.
Today was the day filming for Sword Pact, One Lord would finally end.
* * *
On a day like today, with lush leaves, scorching sunlight, and a brilliantly clear sky, the colors of a historical drama shoot felt especially vivid.
The first person I met there was Min Byeong-gi.
My eyes narrowed.
“Ah, Writer Han, you’re here?”
A black jacket, blue jeans, and even a black cap in this heat.
‘And what’s with the sunglasses?’
Look at him, completely afflicted with director syndrome.
It was such an absurd sight that I could not even laugh.
“You’ve become quite the fashionista, haven’t you?”
“Huh? Ahaha! Well, people might recognize me outside now! It’s about time I started maintaining some dignity!”
Why did such a surge of emotion rise inside me as he adjusted his sunglasses?
‘Ah, so this is why my senior said that.’
“There are times when someone gets back up no matter how much you trample them. That was always fun.”
“?”
“You know how they say it hurts more when you drop someone from a higher place? Let their shoulders rise as high as they can, then drop them. The look on their face then is really...”
I remembered the way they had licked their lips and smiled wickedly.
But I was not trash like that.
“You look great. Though it must be hot.”
Sure, he had earned some praise for making this well enough to bring it this far.
Min Byeong-gi looked ready to die of happiness.
His shoulders bounced and the corners of his mouth twitched, making something rise inside me again, but what did it matter?
“Ahem! Well, I’ll accept the compliments up to there! A director must never let their guard down until the very end!”
I wondered about that formerly whining ego of his growing bloated, but he was right, so I did not deny it.
Still, perhaps this was the charm of a live-production drama.
There was an atmosphere you could only see in an environment like this.
The production was not yet complete, and the ratings were climbing. Watching the crew gather and prepare for work brought an unthinking, refreshing excitement.
Especially since filming had begun without any reason to be certain of success, that feeling was even stronger.
There were only around three shots to film today, so the entire crew was relaxed.
It would take two or three hours at most, and afterward there would be a wrap party.
Everyone would probably drink until they collapsed, and that would surely create a few entertaining scenes.
Just as I was thinking that.
“Ah, Actor Ryu Cheong-a has arrived!!!”
My gaze turned at those words.
A black van stopped at the edge of the set, and when the door opened, someone stepped out.
Someone I had not met separately since that day.
Someone who now seemed closer to the future that had disappeared.
Ryu Cheong-a lifted her head.
“Oh, Actor Ryu!”
“Ah, Director! And...”
Her eyes widened when she spotted me, then she smiled softly.
“The writer came too.”
I answered a little late.
“Yes, since it’s the wrap.”
That smile was so clear that it stole my attention.
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