Oh Soobeom couldn’t believe it.
It was shocking enough that someone practically still a rookie actor had negotiated his contract on his own.
But the real surprise was that he had secured four times the appearance fee Soobeom had expected—₩40 million per episode instead of ₩10 million.
Where did that kind of negotiating power come from—enough to make the picky Choi Jeongseok accept it after just one shoot?
‘No way Choi PD agreed to that without a fight. Did he just overwhelm them with his acting?’
Soobeom hung up the phone and shook his head in disbelief.
‘They say monsters are born, not made… How did someone like him just land in Beom Actors’ lap?’
“CEO, was that Taehun?”
“Yeah. He said he’s done filming and on his way here.”
“Haha, then how about one last drink for the night, sir?”
Seeing Soobeom in a good mood, Yoon Sungwoo got excited as well.
“Sure. Auntie, two bottles of Toad, please!”
“Eh? Only two bottles?”
“None for you, Sungwoo. You’re driving later.”
Sungwoo clicked his tongue in disappointment.
Regardless, to Soobeom, Ki Taehun was a blessing that had rolled in out of nowhere.
After his lifelong partner Lee Jaejun passed away, it had felt like the world was crumbling.
Now, he wanted to raise Taehun, the first actor of his new agency, to the top.
Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t Taehun who was being saved.
It might be Oh Soobeom himself—just like it had been with Jaejun.
Later that night, Taehun sat at the table of the soup restaurant.
The three of them clinked glasses as if making a vow of brotherhood, bonding well into the night.
“Sungwoo, make sure Taehun gets home safely tonight.”
“Yes, sir. Don’t worry. From this moment on, I’ll take proper care of him! Taehun, you trust me, right?”
“Haha. You’ve got the smoothest driving, hyung.”
“Driving? Is there some shade in that comment? You think cornering’s easy? That’s the basics of basics—”
“Relax, I’m just joking.”
Even as they walked to the car, Taehun and Sungwoo bickered playfully.
Watching them, Soobeom smiled fondly.
‘Still, I should double-check…’
He had gone all the way to Hampyeong just to pick up Yoon Sungwoo, trusting Taehun’s recommendation.
Soobeom had brought him in because of Taehun’s insistence, but he wasn’t sure yet if he could entrust him fully.
***
“Hello, Director Gam?”
—”Oh, CEO Oh!”
Soobeom had Director Gam’s number from years of experience as a manager.
“I was wondering… Do you know anything about Yoon Sungwoo, the former manager of Tiamax?”
—”Why do you ask about Sungwoo all of a sudden?”
“Well, there’s a chance we might be working together.”
—”He’s got a strong sense of responsibility. Even after Tiamax disbanded and only Ki Taehun was left, he continued to manage him for a whole year. He even wrapped things up cleanly when he decided to move to the countryside. He does enjoy drinking, but while he was active as a manager, he never touched alcohol outside of company dinners.”
‘So those bottles lined up in his room were just his retirement celebration binge…’
For a moment, Soobeom felt guilty for having doubted Yoon Sungwoo.
—”But he wants to work again?”
“Maybe?”
—”Well, he did say being a manager was his calling. Something about having a role model he really wanted to be like.”
No one knew that Yoon Sungwoo’s dream was to become the god of managers—Oh Soobeom himself.
***
While everyone did their best in their respective roles, time flew by.
Finally, the day of the Butter Campus production press conference arrived.
The event’s MC was none other than Kim Kyungmi, often called the “Oprah Winfrey of Korea,” and the best in the business.
The lead actress Gayun was seated between Chaehyuk and Taehun.
Bright stage lights and camera flashes showered down on them.
Applause erupted, and excited murmurs spread throughout the hall.
Gayun sneaked a glance at Taehun.
Even with all her experience, she felt nervous at events like this.
‘Wow, what is with this guy?’
Next to her, Taehun looked completely calm.
‘Is he fearless or just clueless? Either way, this guy’s seriously obsessed with acting.’
Her palms grew clammy with sweat.
The Q&A session was about to begin.
This session was structured so that MC Kim Kyungmi would randomly select journalists or prospective viewers to ask questions.
All the actors—except Taehun—visibly tensed up.
Some questions could be rude or provocative.
One wrong word could destroy your reputation.
Everyone had to be extremely cautious.
“Alright, first question. Oh, you there—fifth row, third seat!”
People laughed at Kim Kyungmi’s smooth and witty delivery.
Gayun tried to unscrew her water bottle for a drink, but her sweaty hands kept slipping.
Then—
Crack!
A hand suddenly reached out from her left.
With veins bulging across the back of his hand, the person twisted the cap clean off.
It was Taehun.
‘For a second there… I saw Gyeonjun from Butter Campus.’
Though Gayun nearly had a heart attack, the questions continued.
Lee Chaehyuk, then Park Gayun, followed by Lee Chaehyuk again, then another question for Gayun.
As the session neared its end—
The “Pandora’s box” that no one dared open was finally cracked open by DDoS Patch’s reporter, Yoon Yeonho.
“Ki Taehun-ssi. You remember that scandal from last time, right? There are rumors that it was actually a viral marketing stunt. Care to comment?”
“Oh, Reporter Yoon Yeonho. You’re the one who wrote that article, right? I’m sorry, but I’m a bit confused—shouldn’t you be the one answering this question instead of me? Did you get paid by Director Choi by any chance?”
The audience, journalists, and actors all burst into laughter.
Only one person couldn’t laugh—DDoS Patch’s own Yoon Yeonho.
Face flushed red, Yoon Yeonho raised his hand again, this time letting his embarrassment leak into his tone.
“So… was your acting just as bad this time too?”
“Haha. Is it even possible to act with your feet? Oh wait, do you write your articles with your feet? I’ve never tried that kind of hobby, but maybe I’ll give it a shot someday.”
With that clever response, Taehun defused the tension.
People’s hostility toward him—fueled by his past as a ‘bad actor’—began to melt.
‘His Taiji-style dodge was insane. How is he redirecting the attacks like that?’
‘This is what they call finesse.’
Of course, the image of him as a bad actor hadn’t completely vanished.
But MC Kim Kyungmi didn’t miss the moment.
She took the mic again.
“Honestly, I was curious too. I mean, I was surprised enough when you switched careers to acting, but to land such a major role right from the start? You sure you didn’t pay someone for this gig?”
Though she said it with a laugh, the room went dead quiet.
Everyone was wondering the same thing.
Then Director Choi Jeongseok added fuel to the fire.
“Hi, I’m PD Choi Jeongseok. This might sound strange, but I truly believe Butter Campus will be the project where the public discovers what a phenomenal actor Ki Taehun is.”
To publicly praise one actor over the project itself—especially in front of the screenwriter and entire cast—could easily come off as excessive.
But the writer Go calmly nodded in agreement.
Not just the writer, but also co-stars Lee Chaehyuk and Park Gayun, and even veteran actors—no one seemed to object.
The audience buzzed with murmurs of surprise and intrigue.
Kim Kyungmi swiftly took control.
“Calm down, everyone. Calm down.”
She gently lowered her hand, and the room fell silent.
Then she asked the big question.
“So, what you’re saying is… Ki Taehun’s transition into acting has been a success?”
As Choi Jeongseok nodded, the mic passed to Ki Taehun.
“Well… You can find out for yourself on Monday night, August 2nd, at 10 PM on KBC.”
Time passed quickly, and soon, the day of the first broadcast arrived.
One day, Taehun received a message from CEO Oh Subum.
—[How about a drink after your schedule?]
Taehun immediately felt worried. He could sense that something was troubling Oh Subum.
Although Subum occasionally drank while eating, it was rare for him to specifically suggest going out for drinks like this.
Whenever he did, it was usually because he had something weighing on his mind.
—[Got it. Send me the location.]
Taehun headed to the meeting spot with his manager, Yoon Sungwoo.
Even though it was already late, Sungwoo was excited because it was a fancy bar.
“So, CEO Oh. What’s bothering you?”
Before even sitting down, Taehun got straight to the point.
“Oh, you’re here? You really are sharp. It’s not like it’s written on my face. Sungwoo, what do you see?”
“Yes, sir. I see sashimi!”
“Come on. There’s no way I’d be on the same wavelength as Sungwoo.”
Even counting the time back when he was Jaejun, Sungwoo had never been the most perceptive.
“Have a seat. It’s nothing major, really. Just—things are piling up. I’ve got so many meetings with the Butter Campus team before the first broadcast.”
“Shouldn’t that be a good thing? It helps with promotions. You just have to do them, right?”
“Yeah, but the problem is… most of it’s variety shows.”
Subum rubbed his face with both hands, clearly stressed.
Taehun didn’t quite understand why that was such a big deal.
Then Sungwoo, with three pieces of sashimi stuffed in his mouth, mumbled, “Will you be okay? I mean, you used to freak out at the idea of variety shows. You even threw up from nerves.”
“Me? I did?”
“I know it’s a past you’d rather forget, but… were you in shock or something?”
“I really can’t believe I ever did that.”
“Everyone else was desperate to get on screen, but you hated being used as a laughingstock, especially since you were already infamous for your bad acting.”
That was true.
Sungwoo must have told Oh Subum that Taehun had a hard time with variety shows.
“At first, I couldn’t believe it. On set, you’re like a beast in front of the camera. But Sungwoo kept freaking out about the idea of you doing variety.”
“You should’ve seen him. He couldn’t say a single word, turned completely pale… I almost went to the CEO out of pity.”
Taehun took a swig of his drink.
‘So… do I have some kind of variety show trauma or something?’
Still, considering how strongly the drama team pushed for it, and how tight the finances were at Bum Actors, it made sense to say yes.
You have to row when the tide is in your favor.
“What’s the name of the show?”
“Yoo Jaehyung’s Working Man.”
Working Man, KBC’s flagship variety show.
Its audience ranged from teens to people in their fifties.
It was the perfect platform to promote both the drama and his own name.
And above all, the show was led by top MC Yoo Jaehyung.
‘This might actually be a great opportunity.’
‘…But it’s going to be rough, huh?’
Just then, Oh Subum’s slouched shoulders were lifted as Taehun gently rested his hand on them.
“Sounds good. Let me know once the schedule is confirmed.”
“Huh?”
“I said it sounds good.”
“A-Are you serious?”
Even Yoon Sungwoo was so surprised that he dropped the piece of sashimi he was holding.
“Of course. Go ahead and book everything.”
“But it’s the day after tomorrow. Actually, now that it’s past midnight, it’s technically tomorrow.”
Subum checked the time and added that last part.
It would’ve been nice to know earlier, but it didn’t matter.
Back when he was Lee Jaejun, he’d done tons of variety shows.
Especially with Yoo Jaehyung—since they debuted around the same time, they were close.
So Taehun knew exactly how Working Man operated.
As a classic MC-driven variety show, the more you messed around and made people laugh, the more spotlight you got.
“The national variety show Working Man? This is crazy!”
‘Crazy? Please. I was on Happy Sunday, one of the biggest shows of the ’90s.’
Feeling oddly proud, Taehun smirked.
[Happy… Sunday? Was that a real show?]
The system window threw cold water on his mood.
‘Come on, Status Window. You’re such a disappointment.’