Chapter 75
“You’ve been called up for the military... Your enlistment notice came.”
For a moment, I thought I had heard wrong.
What the hell... What is this now...? The military...? The military!!
I stared at the enlistment notice in my hand as if I had just been struck by lightning.
I couldn’t think straight for quite a while.
To make things worse, there was only one month left until the enlistment date.
My mind was in complete chaos.
I never thought I’d end up serving in the military twice in my second life...
Still, the anxiety that had been bothering me slowly settled down.
If I had to go anyway, then maybe this was actually the best possible time.
Right. The movie industry is going to remain in a slump for several years starting in 2008 anyway.
I remembered how, before my regression, I had spent several years around this period unemployed.
Of course, my current situation was completely different from back then.
Even so, if there was a storm coming and I had the chance to avoid it, then avoiding it was the smart choice.
And by the time I finished my military service, the era of general programming cable channels would begin in earnest.
That would create new opportunities in the video media content industry.
Once I thought of it that way, I actually felt much more at ease.
The next morning, after reaching that conclusion, I went to work and immediately handed my resignation letter to Team Leader Kim Eun-kyung.
Startled, Kim Eun-kyung asked,
“The reason is...?”
“I have to enlist in the military.”
It took less than a second for the confusion on Kim Eun-kyung’s face to turn into disbelief.
After thinking for a moment, she informed CEO Han Tae-sung.
“The military? Did you just say you’re going into the military?”
Han Tae-sung looked back and forth between me and the resignation letter lying on the table.
I gave him an awkward nod.
“Well, if the country is calling you, I can’t exactly stop you from going. Ha...”
This time, Kim Eun-kyung, who was sitting across from Han Tae-sung, let out a short sigh with a troubled expression.
Han Tae-sung stared at the resignation letter for a while before pushing it back toward me.
“Put the resignation letter away for now.”
“Pardon?”
“Come back to work after you’re discharged. I haven’t even fully used the image I worked so hard to build for you yet.”
Just as I expected. He didn’t accept my resignation.
Actually, the thing I had been most worried about before enlisting was having to quit Big Picture.
Sure, finding another job after being discharged wouldn’t have been difficult.
But when it came to carrying out the plans I had for the future, I couldn’t think of a better place than Big Picture.
That was why I had struggled so much before finally handing my resignation letter to Team Leader Kim Eun-kyung.
Still, part of me had expected Han Tae-sung to refuse it.
There was no way he would casually let go of everything I had achieved here, or the image he had built around me.
Now that my return to the company was secured, I began laying the groundwork for what would come after my discharge.
And that meant deciding which direction Big Picture should take while I was away in the military.
“In that case, the company will have to survive until I come back.”
Han Tae-sung looked at me seriously.
“The way you say that makes me think what you told me before wasn’t just something you threw out casually. So how long do you think this downturn in the industry will last?”
“Well... at least two or three years? Still, I think the industry should recover close to its previous level within five years.”
At the mention of five years, Han Tae-sung and Kim Eun-kyung exchanged startled looks.
“You think it’ll be that long of a battle?”
According to my memories from before my regression, yes.
I looked toward Team Leader Kim Eun-kyung.
“Team Leader, you said this during last year’s Busan International Film Festival, didn’t you? With so many movies being made, you wondered how many would actually break even.”
And that really was the situation.
According to official quarterly statistics released by the Korean Film Council, from last year through this year, around two and a half times the average number of movies had been produced.
Yet fewer than ten percent of them had managed to pass their break-even point.
“I don’t think this situation will recover easily.”
The two of them nodded heavily, as if agreeing with me.
“Then for the time being, lying low may be our best choice...”
“You could look at it that way. But there’s also a saying that a crisis can become an opportunity. Why not use this chance to expand into another field?”
“Expand into another field?”
At my sudden suggestion, the two of them exchanged glances again.
I continued.
“Through this incident, I’ve realized very clearly that the Korean movie market has a limited-sized pie.”
“That’s true, but... when you say expand the market, do you mean overseas?”
Kim Eun-kyung asked in a somewhat doubtful tone.
Han Tae-sung nodded slightly.
“Come to think of it, didn’t they recently make a Korea-China co-production about the Three Kingdoms in China? Maybe it is about time Korea slowly started looking overseas...”
“No. Of course, we should eventually aim for overseas markets too, but I think it’s still too early.”
From what I remembered before my regression, the Korea-China co-production Han Tae-sung mentioned had not been particularly successful in Korea.
And even after that, movies produced through similar international partnerships rarely became major hits.
Han Tae-sung frowned slightly.
“Then what kind of expansion are you talking about?”
I paused for a moment before answering.
“Dramas.”
“Dramas?”
At the time, movies and television dramas were considered completely separate industries.
And in reality, there were significant differences in their production systems and working methods.
That was why Han Tae-sung looked genuinely surprised and remained silent for some time.
Kim Eun-kyung, who had also been thinking deeply, finally spoke.
“But... do you realize how contradictory what you’re saying sounds?”
She pointed out that I had said the Korean movie market’s pie was too small, so we needed to expand into a larger one.
But dramas were even more limited, since almost all of them were fighting over the same pie controlled by the three terrestrial broadcasting stations.
In a way, wasn’t the drama market even smaller than the movie market?
If we only looked at the present, Kim Eun-kyung wasn’t wrong.
But I already knew what was coming.
The era of general programming channels.
And after that, the era of global OTT platforms.
“Have you ever watched a drama called Rude Woman on cable TV? It aired recently.”
Even though the question came out of nowhere, Kim Eun-kyung seriously tried to remember.
“Ah, that drama on TVM? I think I saw it.”
“Then what about a drama called Quiz with God? That one was produced by QCN.”
Han Tae-sung, who had been quietly listening, raised the corner of his mouth.
“So what exactly are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying it may be too early to treat the drama market as nothing more than the pie of the three terrestrial broadcasters. Who knows how cable television will develop in the future? Maybe cable will eventually create all kinds of channels that perform functions similar to terrestrial stations.”
Han Tae-sung still smiled as though he found the idea interesting.
But he didn’t exactly look convinced.
“You have a strange talent for casually saying things other people would have trouble even imagining.”
“But the things I’ve said haven’t exactly turned out to be complete nonsense, have they?”
Han Tae-sung’s gaze wavered.
“Of course not. Nonsense? It was actually the opposite. But this matter...”
Seeing how conflicted he looked, I calmly continued.
“I know the systems for dramas and movies are very different.”
The two industries differed in almost everything.
Their investment structures.
Their production methods.
Their on-site systems.
Their directing structures.
Even the role of the production company and the way profits were generated.
“Even so, if we’re talking about expanding our business, I think dramas are something we absolutely need to consider.”
Han Tae-sung and Kim Eun-kyung fell into deep thought.
After a brief silence, Han Tae-sung spoke again.
“I understand your point well enough. I’ll think seriously about it too, but I don’t think this is something we can jump into carelessly.”
He admitted that he didn’t know much about the drama industry either.
But he had heard that for dramas, everything came down to securing a broadcasting slot.
And getting one of those slots was said to be as difficult as plucking a star from the sky.
Kim Eun-kyung nodded.
“That’s right. I have a friend working at a drama production company, and she said it can take years just to build enough connections to secure a broadcasting slot.”
I thought for a moment before speaking again.
“Well, if you really want to expand into that field, I’m sure there are ways. For example... we could co-produce with an existing drama production company. Or... directly recruit a successful drama director...”
Han Tae-sung’s eyes suddenly flashed.
Good. I’ve thrown out enough bait. Han Tae-sung can weigh the options himself from here.
And so, ten days before my enlistment, I finished handing over all the work I had been responsible for on Timeless to the other members of my team.
“You worked hard wrapping up the handover on such short notice. You don’t have to come to the company starting tomorrow. You should spend the remaining time before enlistment with your family.”
“Thank you...”
I almost asked her to take good care of Timeless, which was currently in post-production, but stopped myself.
It could have sounded like I was giving orders to a superior.
But as if she had read my mind, Kim Eun-kyung spoke first.
“Don’t worry about Timeless. I know how much effort you put into it from the development stage.”
Originally, it should have already been released by now.
But filming had been delayed by an entire month.
On top of that, they were investing heavily in the CG work, which had pushed back post-production as well.
At this rate, it wouldn’t be released until sometime next spring.
“By the time you come out on your first military leave, Timeless will probably be in theaters. Then we’ll see each other again after you’re discharged.”
“Thank you, Team Leader.”
Inside a small theater in Daehangno, around seventy audience seats were packed with people.
The seats were arranged along steep steps.
They were narrow enough that you had to sit with your back straight to see the stage properly.
The old cushions weren’t exactly comfortable, but there was something strangely warm and nostalgic about them.
A faint smell of old dust drifted from the worn seats.
The audience area and the stage were so close that there was almost no real boundary between them.
If you stretched out your hand, it felt like you could touch the stage.
Apparently, I was the only person who had brought flowers.
Feeling awkward, I quietly lowered the bouquet from my lap and placed it near my feet.
After the so-called “Miss B Incident,” Gil Bo-young had gone through a difficult period.
Even when public opinion gradually began turning back in her favor, she had stopped all activities and shut herself away.
Recently, however, she officially announced her return.
Not through a movie.
Not through television.
But through a small theater production in Daehangno.
And today was the first day the play featuring Gil Bo-young would finally be shown to an audience.
