Eunnyangi looked at Han Yeoreum, who was surrounded by screams and intermittent bursts of dazzling camera flashes. She looked as though she had stepped straight out of the advertisements for <Seoul Metropolitan City> that could be seen everywhere these days.
Whenever Han Yeoreum, dressed in a sports jersey with her ponytail tied high, turned her head and greeted people...
The end of her hair swayed gently.
“Gasp. She’s looking over here.”
“What? What?”
When Han Yeoreum glanced this way and greeted them with her eyes, Myeong Jeha, who was nearby, followed her gaze, and even Do Gyeoul turned her head in the same direction.
Suddenly confronted with those high-definition features in her field of vision, Eunnyangi panicked.
“Aaah, Yeoreum!”
The person next to her was filming Han Yeoreum with a phone.
‘Ah... she noticed one of her fans.’
Eunnyangi watched Han Yeoreum’s retreating back with an indescribable feeling. Before she knew it, she almost followed after her, then snapped back to her senses.
Han Yeoreum was heading toward the cinema, trailed by a cloud-like crowd.
‘If my unni did that hairstyle, she’d be way prettier...’
But Eunnyangi had truly devoted her entire life to Eun Baekhap, and she wasn’t one of those ordinary fans who liked every cute woman they saw.
She had only briefly sided with Han Yeoreum during that ridiculous smear campaign. Eunnyangi was still a pure-hearted fan devoted only to Eun Baekhap.
“Hey, why aren’t you eating?”
“The cheese is gonna harden.”
When she came to her senses, there was already a cold slice of pizza sitting in front of her.
“I can’t eat either.... Damn, did you see Myeong Jeha’s face earlier? He made eye contact with me.”
“You left nothing behind, what are you talking about?”
“No, but seriously, his face is just fucking wow.”
Her friends were passing around the candid photos they had taken of Myeong Jeha earlier. Seeing him in person felt surreal, as though someone had edited him into reality.
But beside him, Han Yeoreum looking at her, Han Yeoreum...
“They said it’s airing today, right? I should watch it.”
“How many episodes is it... hold on. Can I binge it all in one day?”
Her friends searched <Seoul Metropolitan City> on the portal site.
Then they gasped softly.
“Whoa, no way.”
Had another high-definition candid photo of Han Yeoreum already been uploaded? Like those solo fan-meeting videos that had been dominating Tr*tter?
Eunnyangi pushed aside the plate with the cold pizza and buried her head toward her friend’s phone screen.
“What a ridiculous smear job.”
* * *
["Money from America, Promotion Passed Off to Korea?" Seomun Ihwa Presents "Uncommunicative Marketing" to Koreans Through <Seoul Metropolitan City>...]
With only one day left before the release of its first Korean original production, NetHolics launched an overwhelming campaign, plastering the entirety of KOEX Square in Seoul with money. There are also opinions criticizing the promotion method, saying it ignores the public who feel discomfort at the dark red wrapping reminiscent of Halloween... (omitted)
The apocalypse genre lives and dies on meticulous worldbuilding and internal logic. Yet despite the release being right around the corner, neither the director nor the actors are speaking openly about the work, while excessive advertising on such a grand scale only leaves a disappointing impression.
Spending tens of billions in American capital only to hide behind spoilers and deceive viewers through uncommunicative marketing. It is regrettable to see such actions from star writer Seomun Ihwa.
Once the veil is lifted, will audiences witness the birth of another K-zombie phenomenon, or merely the noise of an empty cart that wasted its budget...?
The JC ENM PR team, monitoring the reporters joyfully unloading machine-gun fire in real time, was dumbfounded.
“These bastards are having the time of their lives.”
“They’re butthurt because nobody pampered them.”
“Ah... I’m already exhausted, damn it....”
JC ENM had been especially exhausted at the end of this year. They had to resolve the <Code Name: Time Seven> situation, prepare materials for Music N’s year-end awards ceremony, handle the <Dongdaemun Romance> Blu-ray and merchandise projects, and on top of that, rearrange the promotional schedule for <Seoul Metropolitan City>. Their dark circles had descended all the way down like Jegal Rok’s.
“After we finish greeting everyone at KOEX, we head to the <Magyo-dong> shoot, right?”
“Yeah. That’s right.”
The promotional schedule for <Seoul Metropolitan City> was unlike anything before.
Promoting while filming after the work had already been released was unprecedented, so there was practically no bait to feed people. The reporters were furious.
It was obvious they intended to tear <Seoul Metropolitan City> apart the moment it made even the slightest mistake.
Today’s promotional event at KOEX had clearly lit the fuse.
Without even holding a simple Q&A session with reporters, they had merely appeared in the exact outfits from the trailer.
Starting from the giant screens of the Sansung Electronics Modern Box in Samseong-dong filled with <Seoul Metropolitan City> trailers, they walked all the way to the library.
As if they had come solely to show this sight.
Following the path of bloody footprints wrapped onto the ground, they stopped briefly at the library, the final destination, and greeted the crowd.
“Hello. I’m Han Yeoreum, playing national representative On Jihwa.”
“<Seoul Metropolitan City>... Tak Jeongyun. That is, I play the nurse. We all worked hard... so please enjoy it.”
“I’m Do Gyeoul. In <Seoul Metropolitan City>, I play the rookie nurse Yoo Yeonji.”
“I’m Myeong Jeha, playing Kim Kangil in <Seoul Metropolitan City>, which releases tonight at midnight. Thank you very much for watching. Haha.”
Regardless of the enthusiastic response from the nearby public, they only held a brief photo session before leaving. That alone infuriated the reporters at the scene.
Even though they had been told beforehand that no questions would be accepted, they never expected the event to consist of nothing more than such brief greetings.
An extreme lack of material.
And yet overwhelming public attention.
In that case, the lack of information meant article clicks would suffer badly. The reporters who had skipped the acting awards and music ceremonies to come all the way to KOEX had ended up empty-handed.
“At least they’re beating up our girl less this time.”
“Myeong Jeha’s taking most of the hits, right?”
“They have to tie it to Hollywood money, and Myeong Jeha’s the easiest target. Tsk.”
The JC ENM PR team clicked their tongues while monitoring everything.
“A reporter from <Magyo-dong> contacted us.”
“What did he say?”
“He asked whether you can’t reveal spoilers, or whether you just won’t.”
<Daily Media>, home of <The Last Class Is Club Activities> and one of the more influential entertainment news outlets.
The reporters over there seemed a bit worried. They knew very well about the resentment other reporters held toward <Seoul Metropolitan City>.
It would not be an exaggeration to say that everyone in broadcasting, reporters included, was grinding their teeth at <Seoul Metropolitan City> and its lofty attitude.
If one had to summarize their feelings toward <Seoul Metropolitan City> in a single sentence, it would be this:
You think you’re that great?
“Tell them it’s both.”
<The Last Class Is Club Activities> was filmed after watching the released work. Once they saw episode one, they would understand why Seomun Ihwa had earned the nickname Mad Ihwa.
JC ENM guaranteed it.
* * *
Bang bang bang—
“Yaaawn....”
Seomun Ihwa slowly opened her sleepy eyes at the knocking outside.
While absentmindedly rubbing her eyes, she heard the sound of someone entering the passcode.
Since Seomun Ihwa lived without any distinction between day and night, weekdays and weekends, the passcode to her workspace was practically public property.
“Ugh. I knew this would happen. Calling you is useless.”
“Jaeyoung, is that you...?”
Seomun Ihwa found her thick glasses on the bedside table and put them on. Director Park clicked his tongue while carrying armfuls of things.
“Seriously. You’re the only senior in Korea who stays this relaxed on the day her work premieres.”
“My work...? Is that today...?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Ugh. I couldn’t sleep for three days before <Unfair Trade> came out.”
Holding the can of beer Park Jaeyoung handed her, Seomun Ihwa tilted her head.
“But wasn’t that kid in Russia? Didn’t they say she was over there? The Baby Melon Bread one.”
“Baby Melon Bread? You mean Baby Melon Bread? Yeoreum came back a while ago. Still, I’m surprised you somehow heard about it.”
“Ahh. Yeah. I heard she’s doing something with Ma Eungyo.”
“Ugh. It’s writer Ma Eungyo. Ma Eungyo.”
“I got two syllables right, didn’t I?”
Seomun Ihwa drank her beer while watching Park Jaeyoung turn on the huge TV.
Ten seconds remained before <Seoul Metropolitan City> appeared on the NetHolics main page.
10.
9.
8.
* * *
I arrived at the set of <The Last Class Is Club Activities>.
The murmuring voices from KOEX earlier still seemed to linger in my ears, leaving them ringing slightly.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. I want some water.”
Accepting the bottle of water Myeong Jeha handed me, I looked toward the camera across from us.
The first part had already been lightly recorded.
Before filming resumed, I had monitored the reactions in the car and couldn't help being startled.
“What is this? These headlines....”
The articles were all saying the same thing in unnecessarily long-winded ways.
Let's see how good it really is.
That short sentence had been stretched out into endless headlines. I had expected somewhat positive reactions, so I contacted Myeong Jeha, who had moved to another vehicle.
[Why are the {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} reactions like this? Weren't things already handled?]
I had thought Myeong Jeha would steer the reporters' articles in a different direction today.
But the reply I got was unexpected.
[We left them alone.]
[Negative publicity is a classic.]
Negative publicity is a classic.
If used effectively, it could damage <Seoul Metropolitan City>, but if things went the other way, the backlash could become equally fierce.
Once the series was released, our real promotion would begin through live viewing and commentary.
A subtle tension filled the set.
NetHolics' first Korean original series.
Top writer Seomun Ihwa.
The current atmosphere, where even the slightest flaw would invite criticism from every direction.
The public, whose expectations had reached their peak.
The eyes of overseas audiences.
The time had come for all of those judgments to be delivered.
“It's almost time. We'll resume filming.”
The camera lens emitted a red glow like a warning.
I fixed my gaze on the TV screen in front of me.
NetHolics was open, with the trailer sitting on the banner.
3.
2.
1.
“It's uploaded!”
NetHolics Korea.
Its first original production.
A blockbuster that had swallowed hundreds of billions.
<Seoul Metropolitan City> had been released.
* * *
Incheon International Airport.
Amid the bustling crowds, someone leisurely emerged from the arrivals hall.
A wealthy woman in her fifties, wearing sunglasses and a beige suit, was talking on the phone.
“Yeah. I just got back to Korea. Mm. It really was impressive.”
With sunlight flooding the airport, the secretary pulling her suitcase walked behind her at an appropriate distance.
The woman seemed important enough to require an assistant.
At that moment, the news was playing on a television inside the airport.
—The repercussions from the refusal to dispatch a medical helicopter at a general hospital continue to grow. Last month, a pediatric patient died during transport after approval to use the helicopter was delayed while the hospital director was absent. The bereaved family—
The woman stopped walking and scoffed.
“She doesn't even know how much it costs to get that aired. Tsk. Manager Cha.”
“Yes, Director.”
“Make sure I don't have to hear that bullshit.”
“I'll take care of it.”
On the TV screen, the victim's family was holding a one-person protest.
But the hospital director crossed the airport as though it had nothing to do with her.
The anchor continued.
—Even tonight, emergency patients unable to find treatment are risking their lives inside ambulances as they are shuffled from one emergency room to another. Despite boasting world-class medical technology, we cannot even dispatch a single emergency helicopter in time to save lives. We cannot help but ask whose benefit this facade of a medical superpower truly serves.
The camera showed an unused helicopter on the hospital rooftop.
The sun set and night came.
Sirens could be heard in the sleepless city far away.
But the helicopter remained where it was.
The sun rose.
The helicopter did not move.
* * *
“Ooh. I'm already getting nervous.”
The office worker wasn't usually into apocalypse series, but somehow, he had ended up following Han Yeoreum's filmography as if it were only natural.
Besides, he had received a free one-month NEVER Membership trial, so not watching felt like a waste.
As soon as the New Year's bell rang at home, he turned on NetHolics and started episode one of <Seoul Metropolitan City>.
Right now, even more than the year-end award ceremonies, <Seoul Metropolitan City> was the hottest topic.
The live discussion thread was exploding.
-The apocalypse boom is coming
-When do the zombies show up? I suck with gory stuff but I'm curious so I'm watching
-Myeong Jeha... pleeease take off the helmet already TT_TT
-Happy New Year everyone
Under the bright sunlight stood a pristine white hospital.
The camera naturally glided from the spacious front gate into the building.
It swept over the lobby and the patients one by one.
“Ma'am, for the next hour you'll need to stay with your child in the waiting area outside the injection room and monitor their condition.”
A medical worker explained something to the guardian of a child wearing a hospital gown.
“God damn it. Why are you saying the insurance won't cover it? Huh? Explain—ha... this isn't an explanation, it's an excuse! Ha... are hospital bills a joke? Huh? Is this a joke?”
Someone else shouted angrily into a phone.
“I'll head in first!”
“Yeah, good work.”
The staff who had finished their overnight shifts went home, and the scene transitioned smoothly.
This was the top floor of a university hospital.
Department heads in white coats and an arrogant hospital director sat together.
Everyone sighed as they looked at the graph projected above the conference table.
The red line was dropping.
“Director, if we want to meet the government's healthcare guidelines, we absolutely need to introduce additional emergency medical helicopters and maintain twenty-four-hour personnel at the helipad this quarter! But, ahem... as you know, the more closely we meet emergency standards...”
“We lose money. Lose money! Negative returns! A headache!”
The director's skin was strangely smooth and glossy.
Under the cold LED lights of the conference room, it practically gleamed.
“You expect us to shoulder all the costs? Every time we dispatch an emergency helicopter, every time we maintain standby personnel, this hospital loses hundreds of millions of won every month. Are we running a charity? Seriously. Are we some publicly funded hospital operating on taxpayer money?”
“H-however, Director. The Ministry of Health's pressure has been growing recently, and... regarding the delayed helicopter approval last month, civic groups and the bereaved family have even begun protesting in the lobby, so perhaps we should pay attention to public opinion...”
At the vice director's cautious attempt to dissuade her, the hospital director frowned.
“The future of medicine is life extension and regenerative medicine. How long are we supposed to cling to emergency treatment that doesn't make money? Do hospitals run by digging money out of the ground? Huh?”
The director's wrinkle-free skin looked beautiful.
“This stem cell treatment I personally witnessed and personally tested at an American biotech lab... its cell division speed was nothing short of miraculous.”
Her smile was unsettling.
“Using this American cutting-edge stem cell technology, we'll establish the country's first global regenerative medicine center at our hospital.”
After the meeting, the director stepped into the elevator and irritably checked her phone.
“Follow me. I'm heading to the helipad first.”
The director, who had come to look at the helicopter that had remained idle for a very long time, clicked her tongue.
“Piece of junk....”
At that moment—
“Y-you’re the hospital director, right?”
Someone who had been hiding on the rooftop suddenly emerged with a weapon in hand.
-Holy shit
-That's the one from the news TT_TT
-Ah, it's the victim's family..
-WTF
Within just five minutes, Seomun Ihwa had already gripped the audience with tension.
Everyone watching episode one found themselves completely absorbed.
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