Grab the Regressor by the Collar and Debut - Chapter 477

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com

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477. Facing (6)
Awakening from a ‘dream’ happened far more gradually than I had imagined.
“Kwon Myung, want to grab a drink after work today?”
“Of course, of course. I can’t survive without it, honestly.”
‘Maybe something extraordinary will happen here.’
But reality proved my expectations hollow—it was simply reality, nothing more.
Studio A, lacking any signature work to its name, took on whatever projects came their way for a paycheck, and the vicious cycle only deepened: the more they accepted, the smaller and more mediocre their portfolio became.
“Ha-jin, they’re asking us to revise the ending of ‘Trouble Traveler’ from yesterday.”
“…What? But that one….”
“What can we do? We do what we’re told. Get it done and send it over.”
The seniors who once poured their hearts into selecting background music for mere three-second clips were gone.
They had become ordinary office workers whose sole pleasure in life was finishing the day’s work without incident and drowning their sorrows in drinks while swapping behind-the-scenes gossip. As project scales shrank, hiring senior writers and high-paid Main Writers became a burden, so Go Writer’s collaborations with Kwon PD grew increasingly rare.
On slower days or when there was no work at all, it wasn’t uncommon to see people openly coming in and playing games on company computers.
“…Yes.”
The paychecks came like clockwork, the insurance benefits were solid, there were no conflicts with seniors, and work performance was respectable enough.
‘…Is this right?’
Still, I felt suffocated.
I couldn’t accept spending the latter half of my twenties—the years that should burn brightest—like this.
Then, ‘that thing’ happened.
“Ntv?”
“Yeah, they’re producing a pretty well-funded program. We were originally supposed to participate as a production company, but we had to drop out for various reasons. But they’re so short on staff over there that they asked if we could send some of our freelancers.”
Word came that Ntv, which had gone quiet after manipulation scandals surrounding a hugely popular national audition program years ago, was producing a new survival show.
Through the CEO’s connections, Studio A received an offer, but the scale was simply too large for a studio that had only handled small, trivial projects.
“Anyway, if anyone’s interested, think it over by tomorrow and let me know. If you decide to go, your freelance contracts will naturally transfer to Ntv or be reassigned to the production company. And if you want to come back after it’s done, you’re welcome to return anytime.”
The CEO and senior PDs who ran the company huddled together and deliberated.
They had done their part and were content to just earn a stable living now, but they couldn’t help but think about the younger ones below them—what had they done to deserve this?
‘If there are any friends who want to experience working on something bigger, let’s send them.’
Their decision became another opportunity for me.
“Have you decided?”
“Yes. …I’ll do my best and come back.”
“Come back? You should be thinking about getting a contract position there if you do well. Even if you’re the same PD, the difference between experiencing broadcast station work and not is night and day, you know?”
When I went to see Kwon Myung, she was smiling as if she had known I would make this decision.
I only learned much later that Kwon PD, who had initially opposed handing over her people to someone else’s care, agreed to the CEO’s decision because she had noticed that I—who once sparkled with ideas and passion—had gradually lost that light.
“Hmm…. Ha-jin, well, I think you’ll do fine there….”
“…?”
“…Ah, never mind. I’m just rambling to someone who’s leaving. Forget it, forget it. Just do well. The CP and production company representatives there are both difficult people, so handle them carefully. Keep your words to a minimum and your ears open. Got it?”
“Yes, I understand.”
Kwon Myung seemed to be about to say something more, but after a moment of hesitation, she fell silent.
I recognized that expression—the one Kwon PD wore when contemplating the complicated affairs of adults. I didn’t press further. I had grown sick of realizing how dirty this industry was, and by now, I had become somewhat accustomed to turning a blind eye to it.
“Alright, alright. Go and do well. If it doesn’t work out, come back. I’ll keep your desk open.”
“Yes, thank you, senior.”
Still, perhaps I should have heard those words back then.
As I gazed upon the meaningless phantoms of my past, I found myself harboring an unexpected regret.
* * *
“Hello, I’m Kang Ha-jin.”
“Yes, hello. I’m Choi Yun-hyung. It’s a pleasure to work with you.”
Choi Yun-hyung, the representative of Effect Culture, bore an outwardly gentle and serene impression.
【Universe Media_Seohyung is PD ‖ Hyung】
【Universe Media_Seohyung is PD ‖ Hyung are you really going into Project Five??】
【Yeah how did you find out】
【Universe Media_Seohyung is PD ‖ Do you really have to do that???】
【Universe Media_Seohyung is PD ‖ The production company rep there is rumored to be insane】
【Universe Media_Seohyung is PD ‖ He wasn’t even a broadcaster originally but got the job through connections】
【Space Media_Producer Seo Hyeong-eun ‖ There is also controversy over non-payment of wages and abuse of power ㄷㄷㄷ】
【Universe Media_Seohyung is PD ‖ (news link)】
The goodness he exuded made the rumors I’d heard from acquaintances seem almost unbelievable.
There were moments when a somewhat sly smile crossed his face, and occasionally his eyes grew cold enough to be unsettling, but back then I had resolved—repeatedly—not to judge a person by such things alone.
My habit of sizing people up at first glance with sharp intuition and dismissing them had created no shortage of interpersonal difficulties.
“Well… and this is something awkward to say at a first meeting, but I wanted to mention it beforehand to avoid any misunderstandings.”
“…? Yes, please go ahead.”
“If you search our company name online—or rather, my name—several articles come up.”
“…Ah.”
“They’re embarrassing old stories, but I thought it better to address them upfront. In truth, well… there were misunderstandings about those articles, and differences in perspective between us, so it’s not entirely fair to say it was all my fault. But regardless, they represent my immaturity back then.”
Watching Choi Yun-hyung confess his past failures from our very first meeting, I found myself uncertain what expression to wear, so I answered with silence. Understanding my reaction, Choi Yun-hyung continued graciously, his smile still appearing kind.
“Back then, the company was struggling, and my understanding of mutual interests with those people differed greatly from theirs. I’ve reflected on myself since then, and now those stories are things we laugh about over drinks. But naturally, such resolutions don’t make it into articles.”
Watching Choi Yun-hyung acknowledge his past with genuine shame and composure, I found myself thinking something without conscious effort.
“Still, if those past events become an obstacle to working with new people on new projects, then I should apologize and reflect. That’s what I came to realize.”
This person is like me.
Immature, flawed, and clumsy, yet ultimately someone who looked inward, corrected course, reflected, and grew.
“So… if you’re willing, I’d like you to experience and judge me for yourself going forward. I may not be certain about other things, but I’m sincere about one principle: ‘Let’s create content that can change the trends of our era.'”
“…”
“If you want to dream, let’s dream together. And let’s make it real.”
Dream.
That word stirred something within my heart.
“…Yes. I look forward to working with you, Representative.”
It was the winter of my twenty-eighth year.
* * *
Effect Culture generated revenue through offline events and festivals, online classes, and operated or distributed AiTube channels by creating additional content with participants from those events—a media mix specialist planning agency.
I had never heard how such a company came to plan broadcast programs with Ntv, but what mattered was that the representative’s connections were formidable.
Whether he came from a wealthy family originally or not, despite having suffered a major business collapse years ago due to abuse of power and wage theft controversies, he still drove around in two luxury foreign cars.
“No, but still… cutting your salary in half? That’s too much, isn’t it? Ha-jin, you’ve got years of experience.”
“Well… the company’s in a tough spot, so what can I do? It’s true I don’t have experience in festival and event planning, and honestly, my AiTube experience is just some dabbling from years ago.”
“I know this industry’s notorious for passion pay, but really…. Do you really have to do it there? Just do something else—apply for a broadcasting station public recruitment instead.”
“How am I supposed to get into public recruitment with my resume? I didn’t even get a TOEIC score because practical experience is more important, and I don’t have many certifications. A university name only matters when you’re working in the field anyway—broadcasting stations always require a four-year degree from Seoul.”
“Still….”
When Ha-jin mentioned that he’d taken a position with a salary cut of over 50% compared to his time at Studio A, his university peers, whom he’d been close with for quite some time, couldn’t hide their bewilderment.
I thought that with such impressive events in their portfolio, they wouldn’t pull something this shady, but this is rough.
As his peers vented their frustration on Ha-jin’s behalf, he pursed his lips bitterly and spoke up.
“I’ve thought about it too…. It’s just, right now money isn’t what matters to me. If I’m going to struggle anyway, I’d rather do it somewhere bigger. I want to learn more about the work too.”
Ha-jin had exactly three reasons for deciding to stay at Effect Culture, despite all the warning signs from those around him.
First, he liked the CEO’s talk of Western management methods and the creative, passionate approach to work.
Second, since it was a company that had handled quite a few large-scale events, he had expectations of learning and gaining experience through the work itself.
Third, all the portfolios Effect Culture had produced so far aligned with the direction he’d been pursuing.
Even if something went wrong while working, he’d at least hold out until 【Project Number Five】, which they were preparing with Ntv.
With that resolve, on his first day of work―.
“…Sorry?”
“‘Project Number Five’—Ha-jin, you’re going to need to handle the overall coordination. Since you’re the only one among us with broadcast experience.”
“That’s… why… just me…. What about the others?”
Kang Ha-jin heard words that struck him like a bolt from the blue.
“Oh, they all quit.”
“…Sorry?”
“They all left for various reasons, and then Ha-jin came along as a replacement with perfect timing. I was really grateful, honestly. Didn’t I mention it then?”
“No. This is the first I’m hearing of it….”
“Hmm, well, it’s not like you’ll be doing it completely alone. There are still a few people on other teams, but they’ve got a lot of other projects to work on too…. It’ll be a bit challenging, right? Anyway, overall, you’ll be the main one coordinating people and finding resources for that project, okay? That works?”
Just yesterday, I was nothing more than an N-year veteran assistant director doing grunt work.
Ha-jin’s heart pounded for an entirely different reason now—he’d become the main planner of a broadcast program overnight.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com

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