Chapter 72: …Cover their body slightly.

The conference room at the tvS broadcasting station buzzed as the director reviewed several articles.

[tvS, MBQ, KBM, SBT: The Hellish Four-Way Battle?]

[News of Star Appearances Causes an Internet Stir—A Gathering of Stars!]

[Overheated Competition, Flood of Interest… Communities Ablaze!]

Even as the director refreshed the internet, new articles continued to pour in. Most of them speculated on who would emerge victorious in the four-way battle.

Even speculative articles were enough to stoke the flames. After all, drawing early attention could make or break a show’s success. The moment interest waned, it was game over.

At that moment, a staff member placed a stack of papers in front of the director.

“Huh?”

The director tilted his head in confusion.

It wasn’t immediately clear what the documents were. Normally, the staff would monitor internet articles or cafe responses, capture screenshots, and deliver them. This format was unfamiliar.

“What is this? What did you pull this from? It doesn’t seem like internet articles, and it doesn’t look like fan cafe content either.”

“It’s from an online gallery, the community with the most mentions.”

“The most mentions, but not a fan cafe?”

“Yes. That’s why there’s so much activity.”

The staff member continued explaining.

“They’re interested but not yet aligned with any particular side. They could turn into fans—or critics—at any moment.”

“In my day, it was all cafes and blogs. Times have changed. Got it. This community’s sentiment must be especially important.”

“Exactly. Especially since the majority of users are young.”

The director began carefully examining the monitoring materials provided. Soon, a low hum of concern escaped his lips, and his expression gradually darkened.

Suddenly, the door swung open.

Bang!

PD Choi Heewon and writer Lee Geum-sook entered the room.

“PD Choi.”

The director addressed PD Choi before he could even say hello.

“You know what’s happening, right? Other networks are pulling out all the stops, and the internet is in chaos. Everyone is pulling every trick in the book to secure their victory in this battle.”

“I know. That’s why we’re all working ourselves to the bone.”

PD Choi pointed to his own haggard face with a weary smile.

“I haven’t even been able to hit the gym lately. It’s killing me.”

“I understand that you and Writer Lee are giving it your all. I really do. But…”

The director slid a few documents across the table toward them. They were internet articles.

[MBQ’s Writer Choi Si-young Declares: This Will Be My Most Gripping Script Yet—Absolutely Unforgettable.]

[This Year’s Lead Actor and Actress of the Year? Park Ki-woo and Shin Hye-soo.]

[Action Director Jeong Ki-hong Uploads a Confident Smile.]

[Drama Wars Escalate—Battle Moves to Social Media? Cast Members Leave Cryptic Posts: ‘We Won’t Lose.’]

The director let out a heavy sigh.

“Romance, action—everyone else has their unique weapons. But I can’t help feeling that we’re a bit… ordinary.”

“Ordinary? What do you mean?”

“Our story is good, but it lacks a punch. You know, something that catches viewers off guard—like a slap to the back of the head. And frankly, there’s something else bothering me…”

The director pushed forward more documents. This time, they were screenshots of community posts.

[Title: Lee Geum-sook Can’t Write Romance.]

[You all think she avoids writing romance, but the truth is, she just can’t. How many years and how many works has it been? Have you ever seen her pull off a decent romance? Predictable.]

[Title: Isn’t 808 Too Predictable?]

[It’s the same old buddy cop dynamic. They start off disliking each other, then reconcile and become close. Sure, if it’s well-written, it’s fun. But where’s the twist? It’s dull.]

PD Choi Heewon frowned deeply.

“They’re saying Writer Lee can’t write romance? What nonsense.”

“I know Lee Geum-sook can write brilliant romance. But that’s the problem—it’s only people like us, who are close to her, who know that. The audience doesn’t.”

“Hm…”

“There’s some truth to the perception, though.”

The director clasped his hands together.

“Writer Lee, can you add just one ‘kick’ to the script?”

“A kick?”

“Yeah. Whether it’s a romance or a shocking twist, just one impactful element. Think about it—our lead actor, Kim Yuhan, is a rookie. That alone puts us at a disadvantage in some ways.”

“You might see it that way, but I believe it’s an advantage. The results will prove it. I’m confident that Kim Yuhan will skyrocket the ratings.”

“That’s a results-oriented argument. I’m talking about preparation.”

The director’s tone grew firm.

“I didn’t complain when you cast a rookie as the lead. I understood. But in return, give me one solid punch.”

“A punch, huh.”

“We’ve got two male detectives, so there’s no obvious romance angle. But even so, there might be something. Like killing off one of them, maybe. Something like that.”

Writer Lee Geum-sook remained silent.

It didn’t seem like she was ignoring the director—more like she wasn’t feeling any sense of urgency.

“Writer Lee?”

The director called her again.

Lee Geum-sook shrugged.

“Who says we don’t have an angle?”

“What?”

“I’m saying we do have room for romance.”

The director looked puzzled.

“I guarantee that by the time the climax airs, viewers will be completely hooked. They’ll keep wondering, ‘Will it lead to romance or not?’ and be captivated, loyally following along.”

“What? The two leads are men. Are you planning to create a pairing between them or something?”

At this, Writer Lee and PD Choi chuckled.

The saying, “Fool your allies before you fool your enemies,” exists for a reason. And now was the perfect time to reveal the truth.

A tablet was slid across the table toward the director.

“What’s this?”

“The climax scene.”

“You’ve probably shot it well enough without me checking. That’s not what I’m asking. I’m talking about figuring out what ‘kick’ to add going forward.”

But soon, the director fell silent.

What started as casual viewing of the climax scene quickly captured his full attention, and by the end, his eyes were wide with surprise.

“…?”

It was impossible not to react.

The screen revealed Sua drenched in the rain.

Writer Lee Geum-sook asked, “What do you think? Do you still think we’ll fall behind?”

“Do you think casting a rookie was a disadvantage, or that there’s no potential for romance? Should we scrap everything and start over from scratch? Casting, script, everything, to suit your taste?”

The director didn’t respond.

Or rather, he couldn’t.

He shook his head in disbelief.

“…Where on earth do you find rookies like this?”

“We didn’t find her. She appeared. So, Director, what’s your decision?”

The director’s expression remained serious.

But this time, his seriousness stemmed from a different reason—a fresh shock left him speechless.

“PD Choi, Writer Lee.”

The director looked at them with determination.

“…Let’s stick with this.”

Soon after, an article was published online.

[Special Task Force 808: No Twists, No Romance.]

Just one article.

Of course, this was a massive trap set by PD Choi Heewon and Writer Lee Geum-sook, and as expected, countless opportunists swarmed in.

Follow-up articles erupted in no time.

[Special Task Force 808—What’s With the Confidence?]

[Lee Geum-sook, Giving Up on Romance Again?]

But this was all part of 808’s production team’s strategy.

Meanwhile, that night.

With only two days left until a meeting with Director Go Tae-min for From Tomorrow, Crescendo, Mystic’s workspace—a modest apartment unit—was unusually lively. Two individuals were engaged in a spirited conversation.

It was Kim Yi-seo and Seo Yeon-ju.

“So, from now on, Sua’s going to use this space too? Well, it makes sense since she’s part of Mystic now. I’m kind of looking forward to it.”

“Don’t most people dislike it when there are more people? It makes the place cramped, and cleaning becomes a hassle.”

“Cleaning? That’s what Sun-il is for.”

After a bit of banter, Kim Yi-seo got to the point. She handed Yeon-ju a script for From Tomorrow, Crescendo.

“Yeon-ju, I have a special mission for you.”

“What is it? This is a script, right?”

“Not just any script. It’s Director Go Tae-min’s script.”

“…!”

Yeon-ju’s eyes widened.

She pointed at herself with her index finger.

“Me? Is this for me?”

“It’s for Sua.”

“Oh…”

The hopeful look on Yeon-ju’s face melted away, but inside, she couldn’t help but be awestruck.

‘What? A rookie who hasn’t even aired her first drama already has a legendary director knocking on her door? She’s definitely a monster talent.’

Yeon-ju shook her head in disbelief before letting out a sigh.

“So why are you showing it to me, Director? To motivate me by watching Sua? If it’s just a lecture, spare me.”

“That’s not it. Your role is important today.”

“My role?”

Yeon-ju tilted her head, and Kim Yi-seo nodded.

“Yes. Do you remember Director Kim Jun-ki?”

“Of course, I do. That lunatic pervert.”

“Exactly. If Sua flat-out rejects this script, it’ll be a huge loss. No, we can’t let that happen. We absolutely need to secure Director Go Tae-min’s project.”

“That much I understand. Oh, don’t tell me…”

Yeon-ju made a face that showed she had caught on.

“Sua will be here soon. I need you to hype up this script, make it sound really good.”

“Got it. Hyping things up is my specialty. Leave it to me.”

“And if Sua does reject it, help me persuade her. It’s not that we don’t trust her instincts, but we want to make sure she takes enough time to think it through.”

“Yes, yes. I understand your intention perfectly.”

A short while later, Sua arrived.

“What?!”

Sua was shocked from the start.

“Wow, amazing. So Mystic uses this place as a workspace?”

To Sua, the space seemed incredibly luxurious. It was the kind of home you’d see in dramas, with a layout and interior design straight out of a rich family’s mansion.

While Sua was taking it all in, Kim Yi-seo quickly handed her a script.

“Sua, take a look at this.”

“A script?”

Kim Yi-seo nodded.

“Remember the ‘big catch’ I mentioned? This is the script they handed over. It seems like they’ve already decided to cast you. I’d like to know what you think of it. Take a close look.”

Sua quietly swallowed her nervousness.

‘A script from the big catch.’

That nervousness carried a mix of excitement.

After all, since Special Task Force 808 and The Sword, she had only encountered trash scripts that weren’t worth her time. Sua felt thrilled at the idea of discovering a good script and losing herself in its brilliance.

It was then that Seo Yeon-ju smiled brightly.

“Sua, I just skimmed through it, and let me tell you—it’s incredible. If it had been offered to me, I would have accepted it on the spot.”

Hearing that made Sua’s anticipation skyrocket.

Flap—

She pretended to read the script.

But first, she quickly activated her special ability. In her special space, a new “room” labeled From Tomorrow, Crescendo had already appeared.

[From Tomorrow, Crescendo]

Insufficient implementation elements.

Grade: 7

“…?”

Sua was stunned.

She blinked her eyes, closed them, and then checked again.

Grade: 7.

…What? Grade 7? Grade Se-ve-en?!

Her mind raced with confusion.

How could a script from the so-called “big catch” only be rated as Grade 7? Then again, wasn’t Director Kim Jun-ki supposed to be a respected figure, yet his script turned out to be trash?

Was this another one of those cases? What was going on?

And what about the excitement she felt at the prospect of discovering a good script? What was she supposed to do with that now?

At that moment, Kim Yi-seo and Seo Yeon-ju spoke.

“Sua, what do you think?”

“Sua, isn’t this amazing? You wouldn’t want to pass this up, would you?”

Sua glanced at them with regret in her eyes before shaking her head firmly.

“…I really don’t think this is it.”

She didn’t want to respond like this. Truly, she didn’t.