Now it’s a bit funny to say this after the fact, but when we first planned it, our game wasn’t meant to be this large in scope.
“Hmm, so the USB album is a supplement scheme.”
“That’s right. And if fans play it for a day or so, they’ll probably have fun.”
“Nice—because it’s fresh, won’t it spark some chatter on SNS? I’m all for it!”
It really was just an extended MV. Basically an hour-long movie you get as a bonus when you buy the album, now with choice points. It was a clever move to turn the weakness of a sparse physical album into extreme immersion.
‘...But.’
The real problem began because our first meeting was at Ruins Factory...
“That sounds doable. Yes, I think it’ll be fun!”
At first, when we suggested an interactive MV approach, everyone was on board.
“Really?”
“Yes! Actually, we have a tool we were developing earlier. If you’re okay, we can adapt this... it works, right?”
“Uh, yeah, it works. You said play time is around an hour? We can squeeze it into the schedule somehow!”
I even smiled triumphantly inside at that point. I already knew the backstory.
‘These people originally planned an interactive horror adventure MV for their next <127 Section> project.’
Then they got absorbed under T1 and <127 Section> became a huge hit....
So the result was predictable.
‘I bet T1 execs kept demanding the next <127 Section> installment on loop.’
Unable to tolerate T1 Plays’ crazy parachute management that tried to milk <127 Section> to the bone, they escaped. That’s the academic consensus... no, game-nerd consensus.
They figured, “Since we halted development on that genre before, why not reuse it for next-project funding?” So they pitched the idea.
“But this engine and some physics parts are old... if you want action elements, we’ll need more dev time.”
“Ah, we really just need choice points!”
No problem. We weren’t aiming to make an all-time masterpiece with insane gameplay. We just needed cinematic quality and branch choices. As long as fans felt they were interacting with us, that was enough.
“Oh, then we just need to polish the UI a bit....”
So everything moved quickly and pleasantly. We signed autographs for the staff and had a good time in a friendly atmosphere.
Then they said,
“Oh! Then would you like to come watch our MV shoot?”
“Gulp, can we really?”
“Of course! We’ll be one team now—having you watch would mean a lot to us!”
“If the content-creation experts see the process and give feedback, it’ll be a huge help!”
And that’s how the two company heads and a handful of core crew got invited to what was a “music video shoot” but really doubled as game content and a film shoot.
And on the day of filming...
“...!!”
“Wow, long time no see.”
“There’s hardly a crank-in here.”
Everyone gaped at the flashy equipment and setup Bae Sejin had assembled.
‘Of course, my money paid for all this....’
No matter how good Bae Sejin had been as a child actor or cameo, capitalism doesn’t run on goodwill. This was proof that capital matters. I could practically hear a hundred-million-won register ringing.
‘Still, good thing the location was secured in advance....’
Fortunately we found a suitable building in the provinces. If something couldn’t be done, we’d patch it in post-CG, but still, it was something.
“Park Mundae, eyes down~”
“Yes.”
Following the makeup artist’s direction, I narrowed my eyes and saw Big Sejin—first up—standing in a police uniform center-stage.
“Um, does this vibe work?”
That was Big Sejin filming the prologue. He played the kindly cop-turned-urban-legend-kidnapper guard. He’d even written his own lines for natural delivery.
‘We aren’t seasoned actors, after all.’
We usually gave characters speech patterns close to each member’s real voice, or cut lines drastically if not. In Seon Ah hyun’s case, his acting lessons from the virtual world he’d been in influenced his casting.
“Wow~ that wretched group life really helps you now! Hardship and adversity truly build character, ha ha!”
“That brother is clenching his fist. He definitely has some trauma.”
Of course, none of this would’ve been possible without Bae Sejin’s coaching. He watched Big Sejin’s first take with hawk eyes and gave feedback.
“No. Speak more like yourself, not forced for the story. Trying to hide something will make a newbie act even more unnatural.”
“Ah.”
“With BGM and reactions from the other actor, it’ll look suspicious enough. Don’t lead with cryptic vibes.”
“Got it. Hey, hyung, about how the camera should sling over your shoulder like this....”
Seon Ah hyun cheerfully quizzed on camera blocking without a hint of awkwardness. Of course, with a 60-day schedule, who has time to fret?
He wrapped the prologue shoot ahead of expectations.
“Cut! Great job~”
“...! Thank you!”
I stifled a laugh as I heard light murmurs of “not bad” and approving looks passing among the crew.
“Well done!”
“Thanks to your coaching~”
Both namesakes awkwardly exchanged compliments. Then the director couldn’t resist a behind-the-scenes comment.
“Too bad we can’t blow the car up and shoot it again... but alas, this is our limit!”
Even that extra camera appeal was classic Big Sejin. Then we moved immediately to the main shoot—Bae Sejin hadn’t promised much time.
“Your schedule is killer.”
From the main shoot onward, we passed the baton to professional actors. And we tackled the most important scene first.
[...]
Bae Sejin filmed the gate-escape attempt in one take and got the thumbs-up instantly.
‘...Overwhelming, really.’
His acting had a [N O V E L I G H T] stage-presence level precision—like Cha Yoo jin’s onstage. Bae Sejin could hold his own on stage, but compared to real acting, differences showed. Even the director looked the most excited of the day.
“Man, our Sejin still delivers~”
“Ah, um... thanks.”
He looked shy but proud. The rest of the shoot progressed smoothly, tightly scheduled.
“Okay, next is Room 3 of the locked-room!”
Thankfully, to save time, the costume order was fixed so we didn't have to change outfits often. I, however, stayed in that uncomfortable prison jumpsuit the whole day....
‘If it doesn’t look good on screen, I’ll track down whoever made it.’
That thought carried me through the day. When I nodded approvingly at Seon Ah hyun striding down the hallway with baton in hand,
“Excuse me.”
“...? Yes?”
Even the Ruins Factory crew who’d trailed along quietly suddenly spoke up eagerly.
“Have you considered any further production details?”
What do you mean?
“About that first ending shot we filmed—using that key-shaped device design on the album, and the photocard code you mentioned, right?”
“Yes.”
Well then.
“I saw it in person and it’s fantastic. The gate design, the framing, even the costumes....”
The female director clenched her fists. The male director quickly added,
“Hey, how about making the code-pressing character vary based on which member’s photocard it is?”
“...??”
“Or have affections build from earlier choices to influence that base....”
Wait.
Voices that had been cut for time and environment started spilling out from the developers themselves.
“.......”
It seemed the shoot, the costumes, and Bae Sejin’s performance all hit their sweet spot. Yet really,
‘Do these people not understand reality?’
I forced myself to ask,
“Sounds great—but is implementation... possible?”
“...You think not?”
How would we know...?
“But don’t you want to try? While shooting, those ad-libs that got NGs—turn them into choice points, they’d be perfect....”
“.......”
“Oh, and Yoo jin’s solo escape made me curious. Could be used as a gag ending mid-game!”
“I did well? Was that good?”
“Wait.”
Where did you come from?
Both directors nodded in unison at Cha Yoo jin leaping in with an excited grin in his jumpsuit.
“Yes!”
“We want to use it!”
“Then let’s use it! Umm, please let us!”
“Wow!”
Even the guy who opposed the concept enthusiastically praised it... but before that,
I barely managed to say,
“...Is there time for this?”
“Ha ha, we’re just adding existing bits as choices....”
Then?
“If we staff who scoff at labor laws pull an all-nighter!”
“Exactly!”
“.......”
Thus, what were once cut ad-lib scenes and NGs swelled into a mad volume as choices and gag endings. And it didn’t end there.
“And you said there are three versions, right?”
“Yes. But aside from USB design and prologue, they’re similar....”
“Wow, adding personal events would amplify that feel, wouldn’t it?”
“...??”
“If we revived some discarded scenarios....”
That was when—
“Oh, we had discarded scenarios? Really?”
“Yes! Look at this.”
Suddenly the director jumped in, and impromptu extended shooting was decided on the spot.
“Sorry, but I don’t have time to memorize more lines....”
“Oh~ you’re already similar to your real selves—don’t stress the script, just go with the moment!”
“.......”
“You wrote it anyway, so stop overthinking! To act, you need experiences like this.”
We were idols gearing up for our stage debut...
Yet with Bae Sejin leading a host of idols who could act, that argument was impossible. Even our leader—
“Well, we’re fine.”
“......!”
So in the end, an absurdly over-two-and-a-half-hour game was born.
‘It became 2.5× longer.’
Plus three versions, plus Bad, Gag, Normal, True, Hidden endings—actual playtime exploded. The clickbait traction tripled from the plan. Viral clips and streams kept it trending for days.
“Have you tried the hot new TeSTAR game?”
“Did you know there’s a route where, if Rae bin never checks in the lab, Yoo jin goes berserk, great for memes? [video]”
“Hidden Ending Seon Ah hyun is going nuts among TeSTAR fans (horror warning)”
Of course, few of those people actually played our game. Most just watched short clips, edits, or fan reactions and laughed. ‘It’s not even a mobile game but a packaged one—what mass appeal?’
It was purely a fan-targeted MV expansion concept. It likely helped album sales somewhat, but wasn’t a massive spike. ‘Since we unlocked streaming, some casual interest satisfied itself.’
However, it did draw in new potential fans via the game bait and delighted existing ones. We hit the most important mark.
“Wow, I didn’t expect TeSTAR to come back like this [laughs]”
“I already have the title melody stuck in my head from all the reaction videos, hahaha”
We imprinted “TeSTAR is making a comeback” across the internet. And weaving the title-song chorus into the game meant anyone who saw it—stream or reaction—would have it stuck in their head.
‘All we needed was one listen to hook them.’
As expected, TeSTAR’s streaming ranks didn’t fall short compared to T1’s previous insane promotions.
‘...Right.’
Having announced the comeback, all that remained was to land the knockout on stage. ‘And today, we do our first comeback stage. On network TV.’
“Hmm.”
I smiled. It was a satisfying outcome.
Only...
“Park Mundae! Are any of you interested in more serious games too? For our next project, how about a cameo gag ending featuring TeSTAR characters....”
“We’re fine. Really fine.”
The Ruins Factory crew, who’d come to see us as colleagues, could mull that over later.
“Yes. Thank you.”
Bae Sejin thanked the person on the other end of the call again.
Despite the long silence, the director from the drama where Bae Sejin cameoed as a shaman took his call. That same director had worked on the ten-million-viewer film in which Bae Sejin appeared as a child actor. Naturally, she wrote and directed films.
She’d made time for him. So he could approach the film crew he’d known since childhood with a difficult request.
‘...I’m glad I mustered the courage.’
It was an insane push, but I think it was the first time he contributed so much to the team.
‘...and the feedback was great too.’
Now all that remained was to perform on stage. As he recommitted to the activity,
“Remember? When you were this small and suddenly cried like raindrops on set, everyone was so flustered.”
“Um, yes?”
“You told them, ‘I was just feeling my emotions, why do you care~’ so coolly. You were so bold as a kid.”
“I... yes.”
Bae Sejin stifled a cough. The director, reminiscing happily, suddenly murmured in a low voice.
“Still... such a waste. A real waste.”
“.......”
“On this shoot, I had such a blast, Sejin-ah. Jungjin said she was so glad to see you again.”
“Ah.”
He recalled the actor who’d played the driver in the prologue—his senior in childhood acting.
‘...She treated me well.’
Just then, a direct proposal came over the line.
“I’ve got one fantastic script right now.”
“......!”
“You’re old enough now. Want to give it a shot?”
That was thirty minutes before TeSTAR’s first comeback live stage.
