Free Web Novel“Ahhh! I don’t want to hear it!”
It felt like she shouldn’t pick up the phone. The words she expected were obvious.
“Writer, the Chinese investors for 〈The Great Garland〉 have bolted. And then the Korean investors bolted. So we’re done. You know that, right?”
Ahn Junmyeong clutched her head, unable to run from a natural disaster she couldn’t avoid. She flattened herself against the floor like someone bracing during an earthquake drill. The vibration stopped.
Bzzz.
Then a short message arrived.
“This damn curiosity... ah....”
She squeezed her eyes shut and tapped the screen. There was no doubt what kind of message would be there.
“Please, please, please... Jesus, Buddha. At least one of you, help me.”
A nonbeliever who only sought gods in moments like this, Ahn Junmyeong slowly cracked open her right eye to a thread.
“Huh?”
Then she flung both eyes wide open.
“What is this?”
An unbelievable message had arrived.
[Writer An. This is Ji Haebeom. You seem busy, so I’ll say this by message.]
[I will proceed with investment in 〈The Great Garland〉.]
“Huh? What is this?”
While she stood there blankly—
Bzzz, bzzz, bzzz, bzzz.
Her phone went wild. This time it was Director Ja.
“Hello? Director— no, Ji Haebeom—”
“Writer An! We did it! We did it! We’re alive!” freewebnσvel.cøm
As always, Director Ja only said what he wanted to say. His voice, bursting with emotion, exploded in her ears like fireworks.
“We got investors from Taiwan too!”
If this were a film or a drama, this would probably be the climax, she thought.
* * *
Twenty-four hours earlier.
Fresh from the shower, Ji Haebeom lightly rubbed his hair with a towel. A gray-furred cat trotted over and began rubbing its head against the ankle of the robe-clad actor.
“Mm. Were you bored?”
He took a bottle of sparkling water from the fridge. Even the sound of his footsteps as he walked toward the sofa was calm. Even if the drama he was starring in wavered, he felt little regret.
He was still Ji Haebeom. Still top-tier. He could simply choose one from the flood of scripts pouring in.
‘Maybe this is better.’
Wasn’t crisis also opportunity? Even in unstable times, he could become the actor who remained standing.
Investors wouldn’t want any more risk than this, and Ji Haebeom was, quite literally, the safest possible choice.
The dim TV screen flickered on, and the film he selected began playing. Voices flowed from the Paragon audio speakers.
‘Still... it’s a bit of a shame.’
Honestly, it had been fun. The first shoot. The audition. He remembered the very young junior who had limped ever so slightly into the audition room.
Han Yeoreum—the one who had instantly seen through even the symbolism of the pear blossoms that no one else had noticed.
He recalled resetting the camera angle and filming the scene where Taeseok watched Huijae. It had only been days ago, yet it felt as vivid as if it had just happened.
Huijae walking out of the photo studio. Huijae climbing lifelessly into the black car. Huijae being transported like an object, briefly gazing beyond the window. And himself—forced to watch from across.
“...”
The Huijae he had imagined in his mind had been right before his eyes.
With a bob that lightly brushed the end of her jawline.
For a fleeting moment, Huijae’s gaze touched Taeseok—and then the car started moving. Taeseok was left standing there alone.
Their locked gaze had lasted only a second.
But even that was enough for Ji Haebeom to feel as though he had truly become Gi Taeseok.
Ding-dong.
The doorbell rang.
No one was expected at this hour.
He picked up his phone to check if it was his manager, then stopped. If it were his manager, he would have let himself in after ringing.
Ding-dong.
The bell rang again.
Still watching the actors on the screen, Ji Haebeom wondered who could be on the other side of the door. No one came to mind.
Ding-dong.
A third time.
He rose from the sofa to check the uninvited guest’s face. The cat jumped down from his lap.
He looked at the intercom screen.
“Hm?”
The figure standing there was someone he had never expected. A face that even CCTV couldn’t blur. The child actor of Gi Taeseok.
“Myeong Jeha.”
Han Yeoreum’s classmate. Myeong Jeha had come.
* * *
Myeong Jeha glanced around the interior of Ji Haebeom’s unchanged house. The aloof cat approached his feet as if acknowledging him.
“Ta-da.”
Ji Haebeom set down a glass of water, speaking lightly. It was still a house that didn’t entertain guests.
“Sorry. I only have alcohol.”
“No, thank you.”
“I put ice in it though.”
Ji Haebeom didn’t ask why he had come. As always, he preferred to assess quietly and jump to conclusions.
Myeong Jeha spoke first.
“How was Huijae?”
“You came at this hour to ask that?”
Ji Haebeom looked at him with mild surprise.
“I don’t really want to get dragged into some kids’ love triangle...”
“That’s not what I mean. I’m talking about the acting.”
As Myeong Jeha tried to get to the point, Ji Haebeom paused. Then he slowly examined the strikingly young junior in front of him.
The playful look from moments earlier was gone. His gaze was sharp. Myeong Jeha met it steadily.
“It’d be a shame if this collapsed, wouldn’t it? Haha.”
“It would be... but we’ll meet again if the opportunity comes.”
Ji Haebeom stepped back. Myeong Jeha stepped forward.
“Senior, flip the market just once.”
“How?”
“If you put investment into 〈The Great Garland〉.”
It was an unprecedented situation. Every move of a top star became news.
And especially someone of Ji Haebeom’s level.
If he dropped anchor in a project that might collapse, it wasn’t hard to predict the butterfly effect that would follow from a single word of his.
Investors who had been scrambling to pull out amid massive losses would stop. Distribution rights would be explored in countries other than China. Investors from those countries would fill the gap.
Filming would resume.
“I don’t like things getting complicated...”
He had expected that answer.
After 〈The Great Garland〉, every project he joined would push him to recommend investment for buzz. That would lead to unnecessary promises and requests.
And if those investments failed, he would be mocked for having chosen a flop. Pointless image consumption was something he avoided.
“Even if it’s not you, no one will let a project like this collapse so easily.”
Ji Haebeom smiled as he lifted the glass to his lips. Cold water slid down; his Adam’s apple bobbed.
Myeong Jeha continued, leaving his own glass untouched.
“Do you think Han Yeoreum will stay in that position while filming is suspended?”
Ji Haebeom’s throat stilled.
“A four-episode child role... Characters with small roles leave all the time when schedules overlap with other projects. Haha.”
Ice clinked softly in the glass.
“And then Yeoreum leaves.”
A light gleamed above Myeong Jeha’s head.
Analysis: S++
As expected, Ji Haebeom’s greatest interest was Han Yeoreum.
If the Han Yeoreum he had seen at the audition quit being Yeon Huijae, he would never see that Huijae again.
‘Ji Haebeom knows.’
For box-office success, there are irreplaceable elements.
To pull in early viewers and solidify a fixed audience base, Han Yeoreum was necessary.
“Myeong Jeha, you really...”
Ji Haebeom set his glass down on the table.
Myeong Jeha was certain.
“For someone your age, your # Nоvеlight # head works very well.”
From this point on, the Asian investment market would change.
And it would begin with Han Yeoreum.
