Free Web NovelBy 11 p.m., not only the portal news sections but every community online was talking about the exact same thing.
[DramaMovieActor TALK / Wow this is insane, how are we supposed to wait until next week LOLOLOL]
[DramaMovieActor TALK / Shin Seojin really knows how to use his body, I’d totally believe they brought in a real active detective to shoot this]
[DramaMovieActor TALK / If I were the writer I’d be absolutely obsessed with Han Yeoreum, how does she deliver lines like that]
From beginning to end, it was all <Unfair Trade>.
[“That person is not the culprit” Shin Seojin・Han Yeoreum shock viewers as <Unfair Trade> case sinks deeper into the labyrinth...]
[Will the culprit behind the ‘trash house murder case’ fully revealed in episode 2 of <Unfair Trade> be successfully arrested?]
[Han Yeoreum transforms her image from Nation’s First Love to IQ 160 crime profiler: “My judgment was wrong.”]
In just two episodes, <Unfair Trade> had devoured the buzz of every drama currently airing.
As if it were the only drama on television right now.
[OurTown Chatter / Guys how do you think they’re gonna catch the culprit in Unfair Trade? TT_TT]
[HOT / (Spoiler) The ending scene of <Unfair Trade> episode 2 that has everyone losing it.jpg]
[Unfair Trade / It was so fucking funny when we were all screaming together while live-threading LOLOLOL T_T so where the hell did the heads go]
[Issue Board / The gallery has started burning up again (prophecy stat increased).jpg]
The production company of <Unfair Trade>, the PR agency, and every actor’s management company.
Everyone was monitoring the situation, but there was one place where the heartbeat was especially loud.
“Ahhh....”
“It’s coming....”
This was SBC’s Drama Bureau, the “New Media Content Department.”
A few years ago, when even the three terrestrial broadcasters had begun expanding their Intube channels to keep up with JC ENM—more precisely, back when the anniversary drama <Top Grade> was still airing—SBC’s Intube channel had still been comfortably above KBC.
Now, it had completely fallen to last place.
But,
INTUBE
[Ep02 Han Yeoreum admits her own mistake, the nerve-tight deduction with Shin Seojin at the National Forensic Service ⎢<Unfair Trade>] 03:28
[“What should we do?” Veteran detective Shin Seojin on-site with IQ 160 Han Yeoreum, their insane chemistry ⎢<Unfair Trade>] 05:27
[The “real” genre drama is finally here? Guys hurry over, drama-junkie reporters’ real-time reactions to <Unfair Trade> eps 1–2 ⎢Daily Media]
Depending on whether <Unfair Trade> truly became a hit, this might be the dazzling leap forward they had been waiting for.
In other words, they could finally see the possibility.
“Holy shit, this is seriously moving. Feels like just yesterday our bureau chief was saying he’d stomp MBS into the ground and deliberately picked a name that sounded more elite.”
“Fuck, I remember that. He kept bitching about how their Web Content Department name sounded cheap.... said it absolutely had to have ‘New Media’ in front. Honestly it was fucking hilarious when we still ended up dead last.”
“Are we finally gonna get more subscribers now? Is something ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ huge finally coming?”
“KBC pulled in overseas subscribers, and MBS already had momentum since the Cheongsil vlog boom, what bullshit are you talking about?”
The New Media Content Department staff barely had time to be moved by the incoming views and comments before slipping back into the cool-headed professionalism expected of broadcasting people.
Their hearts ran hot, their minds stayed cold.
“Ahem.”
And then it happened.
Someone cleared their throat behind them.
“The Bureau Chief is here!”
“Ah, ah, just keep working comfortably.”
At the appearance of the chief, the New Media Content Department staff who had all been hunched over with turtle-neck posture immediately straightened up.
And of course, they didn’t forget to switch into their “bureau-chief gothic font tone,” the elite style he always emphasized.
“The reaction to the content uploaded at 11 p.m. yesterday is excellent, sir. In particular, the episode 3 highlight preview and the Shin Seojin–Han Yeoreum solo clips have low viewer drop-off. Compared to the previous day, it’s up by around 5%....”
“Ahem.”
“The articles from the PR bureau with the actors’ names are getting strong views too, but interest in the culprit of the ‘trash house case’ is nearly just as high. Thumbnail videos with the actors’ faces get more clicks, but culprit-related clips have lower abandonment. If we distribute the two appropriately, we should be able to expect meaningful subscriber growth within this quarter.”
“Ahem.”
“Coincidentally, since <The Great Garland> is already popular across Asia, overseas viewers are flowing in through connected recommendations from <Unfair Trade> clips. Because we preloaded subtitles for those countries, likes are about 25–30% higher than last quarter’s projects.”
As the SBC bureau chief was shown the Intube and SNS subscriber graphs, the sound of his throat-clearing only grew stronger.
“Ahem?”
His attitude clearly suggested he wanted more.
The elite staff of the New Media Web Content Department exchanged glances.
‘What more does he want here?’
‘He’s been obsessing over subscribers, so we organized everything around that.’
‘Should we pull up the comment reactions too? Right now?’
After a brief silence, the SBC bureau chief finally spoke, unable to bear the frustration.
“I’m wondering whether the PR Bureau gave any hint about what direction this week’s variety appearance is taking.”
Usually, in a drama’s first full broadcast week, it was standard to promote it by sending the cast around the same network’s currently airing variety shows.
Shin Seojin and Han Yeoreum of <Unfair Trade> had already shown up on SBC’s variety lineup, including talk shows.
“Yes...?”
But was that really on a scale large enough for the Drama Bureau chief himself to worry about?
Not really.
To begin with, this was his first personal visit to the New Media Web Content Department since <Top Grade>.
“Well, you know, if we get a sense in advance that it’s going to go well somehow! Or what sort of angle it’s taking! Then wouldn’t the Web Content Department be able to create more synergy from it?”
The SBC bureau chief’s eyes gleamed with anticipation.
A moment later, still wearing a deeply satisfied smile, he turned and walked away.
“....”
Then he suddenly stopped dead in the middle of the station hallway.
At present, the average ratings by broadcaster were KBC1 at 12.3%, SBC at 8.43%, KBC2 at 7.57%, and MBS at 6.08%.
But the real problem was genre.
KBC’s competing same-timeslot drama was a rom-com.
MBS’s was also a rom-com.
The single most viewer-friendly genre there was.
By contrast, SBC was airing the hardest kind of genre to hook viewers with:
A procedural.
It was the kind of genre people called a massive success if it broke 10% by the finale.
And yet episode 2 had already hit 10.1%.
It was the result of directly carrying over the audience who still hadn’t forgotten Shin Seojin and Han Yeoreum from <The Great Garland>.
“So... so that’s what it is....”
The SBC bureau chief was not satisfied even with the achievement of <Unfair Trade> hitting double digits in just two episodes under such awful conditions.
“So that’s what it is!”
Because once episode 3 aired—the one that would firmly establish the character identities of Shin Seojin and Han Yeoreum—he was certain the influx would only grow.
And on top of that, this week’s SBC variety clips linked with the drama clips would pull in even more buzz.
His hand tightened.
“That’s right!”
The SBC bureau chief clenched one fist and began wildly pumping his arm.
“...Is he really that happy?”
“If it were me, I’d be fucking thrilled too. Once the episode 3 monologue scene connects to the variety scene, the momentum should boom up fast, right?”
“How long is he gonna keep doing that cool-guy act? Back in the day he used to drop into banmal whenever he got excited. He should really pick one concept.”
“Leave him alone. The way he’s trying to look cool kind of reminds me of my dad, so it’s weirdly sad.”
Watching the chief’s retreating back through the gap in the office blinds, the New Media Web Content staff quietly laughed.
“But seriously, she’s so good. Her diction is rock solid.”
On SBC’s talk-show variety program, Han Yeoreum—there to promote the project—had shown something so good it was practically a stunt.
* * *
“What? The ratings?”
The news that episode 2 of <Unfair Trade> had broken into double digits quickly reached rival networks currently at their most sensitive.
Director Byeon Juhwa of KBC’s same-timeslot romantic comedy <See You That Day> tilted his head.
“I didn’t hear that wrong, did I?”
“No. It really hit 10.1%.”
“Ha.... That’s insane.... Shin Seojin’s name value is doing serious work, huh? Ah, shit. If they’d pulled him into a rom-com, that rating could’ve doubled. What a waste!”
Byeon Juhwa lamented the unbelievable rating for a procedural.
At present, <See You That Day>, now on episode 8, was still in first place with 14%.
Ever since last year’s <The Great Garland>, the Korean drama market had truly reawakened.
It was because viewers had regained trust—the satisfaction of seeing a genuinely good work and the reassurance that their time wasn’t being wasted.
“Still, it’s bound to stumble at least once. The moment viewers miss a single episode, it’ll start to slow.”
But Byeon Juhwa didn’t lose confidence.
He had something he trusted.
A shocking crime at the start.
Mystery hooks that make people desperate for answers.
These could just as easily become the perfect ingredients for collapse if the next episode failed to carry the story properly.
A procedural needed a clean problem-to-solution structure after the crime occurred.
If the case flow got messy in the middle, concentration weakened fast, and tension easily turned into boredom.
Besides, many viewers hated spoilers about the culprit.
The moment they missed one episode, they tended to shelve it and wait to binge later.
“You need love, love!”
Byeon Juhwa groaned at the monitor.
Then he sharply lifted a finger.
“Let’s throw a slow-motion pass in here and hit it hard with post-processing.”
The next episode’s edit was playing on the screen.
If <Unfair Trade> was pulling viewers in with the unresolved culprit hook, then <See You That Day> planned to hook them with the revealed first love of the male lead.
“The first-love card is unbeatable.”
Ratings number one.
He was confident he could protect that throne.
* * *
“Did I hear that wrong?”
“...No.... You heard correctly....”
“No, fuck, I think I heard that wrong.”
“No.... You really heard correctly....”
And this was the set of MBS’s Monday–Tuesday drama <As Expected, a Happy Ending>.
The director was in despair.
“It has to be that I heard it wrong.”
“Well... uh.... It seems the actor is really worried.... He’s asking whether the role is making him look too ridiculous... says it’ll definitely hurt him in future projects....”
Because the male lead of <As Expected, a Happy Ending> was digging in his heels.
This kind of thing was absurdly common in the industry.
Actors tormenting directors and writers by demanding take this scene out, put that scene in instead were far from rare.
The real problem, however, was—
“...So now he suddenly wants the character rewritten? Now? We’re already six episodes in?”
“You know how much he’s been fixated on Shin Seojin.... He’s always going on about wanting to do genre pieces, and now that <Unfair Trade> is blowing up over there....”
“Then why the fuck did he come to a rom-com instead of going there?”
The demand to subtly mix in traits from another network’s character was completely absurd.
The <As Expected, a Happy Ending> team, which had deliberately leaned harder into the comedy side of romantic comedy, was now being tormented by a nightmare actor.
“So what exactly does he want changed? Be precise.”
“If you look at the script... the parts he wants removed are....”
“Don’t tell me it’s all of this? This whole section?”
“....”
Director Jeong Hongdong of <As Expected, a Happy Ending>, clutching a script densely marked with edits, slowly lifted his head.
A sky so heartbreakingly blue.
Peaceful white clouds.
And on the giant exterior billboard mounted to the building—
—A crispness unlike anything before. A new taste, Fresh Leaf Soju.
There was Han Yeoreum’s Fresh Leaf Soju ad.
The director stared blankly at the sight and muttered,
“I need a drink....”
He knew instinctively.
For now, they were barely keeping pace with <Unfair Trade> in ratings.
But very soon, they would plunge cleanly into last place.
Whether she knew his heart or not, Han Yeoreum on the billboard smiled brightly as she poured Fresh Leaf Soju into a transparent glass.
It looked impossibly cool and refreshing.
* * *
“The poster didn’t get wrinkled, right?”
This was the university district.
An alley packed wall to wall with bars.
A rookie salesperson from Haebo Brewery had come here carrying the newly released poster.
“Yes, sir! It’s perfectly crisp.”
“Then let’s go.”
Fresh Leaf Soju’s sales had been anything but smooth, long overshadowed by Just Like Now and First Dew.
But today, the Haebo Brewery rookie was more confident than ever.
It was all thanks to the success of Creamy Soda.
In just a few years, the low-alcohol liquor market had doubled in size.
The 20–30s solo-drinking trend was now being led not by Just Like Now or First Dew, but by Haebo Brewery.
Every time a new product launched, Han Yeoreum’s newly circulated posters became surprisingly popular in university-area bars.
Among green soju bottles and brown beer bottles, the Creamy Soda posters—with their colorful backgrounds—were perfect for catching the eye.
The strawberry red, peach pink, melon light green, soda sky blue, mango orange—
Han Yeoreum’s Creamy Soda posters never required Haebo Brewery staff to beg owners to place them in visible spots.
The shop owners put them in the best places on their own.
Jingle—. freewёbnoνel.com
The Haebo Brewery employee opened the shop door without hesitation.
“Hello, boss! Haebo Brewery here.”
“Ahh— hello.”
“Pretty early in the evening and you’re already packed. As expected, your food here is so good...”
Making the appropriate small talk, the Haebo Brewery employee pulled out the prepared poster.
“Our Fresh Leaf Soju switched models this time, so we’ve got a new poster. Sorry for the trouble, but we’d appreciate it if you could replace the old one.”
“The poster?”
The bar owner’s indifferent gaze shifted as soon as he looked at it.
Because the face on it was familiar.
“Hm, where the Fresh Leaf Soju one used to be...”
Fresh Leaf Soju was a brand that still sold less than even a quarter of what Just Like Now and First Dew did.
“If we put it there, it’ll be way too tucked into the corner.”
The current poster was indeed in the farthest corner.
Unlike the Just Like Now poster with Eun Baekhap and the First Dew poster with Do Gyeoul.
“Ah! What about over there?”
The owner pointed toward the entrance.
“I think it’d look good right next to the glass door.”
“Really?”
“Of course. The poster came out great.”
“Thank you! Thank you so much!”
Afraid the owner might change his mind, the Haebo Brewery employee immediately pulled out tape.
The rookie standing beside him was completely stunned.
‘...Was liquor sales work always this easy?’
There was no talk at all about head office subsidies or performance numbers.
No discussion of how much support they’d give or how many bottles had sold.
All it took was one glance at Han Yeoreum’s face.
The rookie from Haebo Brewery looked up at the quickly mounted poster.
Eun Baekhap, Do Gyeoul, Han Yeoreum.
The faces of the three actresses—each carrying the kind of soju ad only the top stars of the era could land—stood out vividly.
