"...Are you talking about the appearance fee?"
The production manager sitting across from PD Song Manwoo frowned at the answer.
"Does someone with such an unclear résumé even deserve an appearance fee? Bringing up payment in the first place doesn't make any sense."
The production manager suddenly raised his voice.
His reaction was understandable.
He worked for C-Blue Studio, one of the country's major production companies, so in his eyes, Kang Woojin was no different from some random nobody.
Woojin's past was highly mysterious.
And yet someone like that was asking about money before filming had even started?
To a production manager who had worked on countless projects, it was absurd. He had never seen an actor like this before.
As a result, his voice grew louder.
"No matter how special this Kang Woojin guy is, this is unacceptable. It shouldn't be allowed. This is nothing more than the PD's speculation."
"Hmm, that's true, but—"
Even the big-name PD, Song Manwoo, thought the same.
The discussion about raising the appearance fee really was based on speculation.
Still, the man named Kang Woojin was unlike anyone he had ever seen.
And his acting?
He could easily surpass top veterans with over ten years of experience.
On top of that, there was the atmosphere he carried, his determination, and the sheer presence surrounding him. A man who casually showed up on Super Actor would not skip negotiating his appearance fee from the very beginning.
'Even Writer Park seemed to like him.'
And not just Writer Park Eunmi.
PD Song Manwoo, Hong Hyeyeon, and everyone else who had seen Kang Woojin in the meeting room that day had been captivated by him.
If Kang Woojin realized that, negotiating the appearance fee would absolutely be possible.
In other words—
"It's my first time dealing with someone who negotiates right from the start, so it's difficult."
Looking at the situation objectively, Kang Woojin currently had the upper hand.
PD Song Manwoo, who had been sitting there with his arms crossed in deep thought—
Swoosh.
He turned his head toward Writer Park Eunmi, who was seated to his left.
She was still wearing her headband, and she had already been staring at him.
Her expression was firm.
Writer Park Eunmi spoke in a steady voice.
"I don't know whether this is speculation or not."
She kept it brief.
"But I'll say one thing. Don't be stingy with the money."
Her voice was heavy. Almost chilling.
That short statement carried a lot of meaning.
It practically said:
Don't lose him over money.
If you do, I won't let it slide.
Soon, PD Song Manwoo shrugged and looked at the production manager.
"Director Lee, I want to live a long life, so shouldn't we decide Kang Woojin's appearance fee—whether this is speculation or not?"
The production manager let out a long sigh.
"Ah, PD, Writer. Our production company also has its position to consider, and there are industry standards too. No matter how unique Kang Woojin is... rumors could spread throughout the entire industry."
"I know. I understand. It's definitely troublesome."
PD Song Manwoo recalled Woojin's face from earlier and added,
"But treating that guy like some ordinary rookie or nobody just feels off."
"Hmm, that's..."
"A typical rookie actor doesn't land a supporting role just because he impressed the Director and the writer. And he came completely alone, without an agency."
Silence filled the room for a moment.
Song Manwoo was the first to break it.
"Alright, let's do it this way. To avoid rumors and outside attention, we'll offer him more than average—but add a confidentiality clause to the contract."
"Not to be rude, but what do you think would be an appropriate appearance fee for Kang Woojin, PD?"
"Hm. Right. But you saw him today, didn't you? He's very smart. A clever man. I don't think he'll go overboard. He's probably already judged his own value within a reasonable range."
PD Song Manwoo began writing numbers on a nearby sheet of paper.
"How about setting the maximum around this amount? What do you think?"
At that exact moment, in Kang Woojin's tiny one-room apartment—
Completely unaware that they were discussing his appearance fee, Kang Woojin was lying comfortably on his bed.
He was not asleep.
He was watching a drama on his phone.
"..."
And in fact, he had been doing that for quite a while.
He had gotten home around six in the evening after the meeting.
Now it was 11:30 at night.
Only about five hours had passed, but to Woojin, it felt like more than fifteen.
Why?
Because the moment he got home, he had entered the void space several times.
Among the works that had been updated inside the void space, he had read almost every character script from Part 1 of Elegant Daughter, except for the Cafe Male Clerk role.
Of course, he had run several experiments in the process.
The drama Kang Woojin was watching right now was Elegant Daughter Season 1.
He kept replaying it, analyzing the actors' performances, the differences between the script and the directing, and the gap between the world he had seen in the void space and what appeared on screen.
Because of that, Woojin realized something.
"Thinking about it now, it's obvious why this drama failed."
Setting aside the directing and everything else, the actors' performances were extremely weak.
"Wasn't this actor supposed to be pretty famous?"
After personally reading every role in the script inside the void space, Woojin could evaluate them clearly.
To him, it felt as if the actors in the drama were trying to imitate him.
Because Woojin had already performed every role in the script.
From his perspective, the actors looked like they were copying him—
and their performances felt awful.
"The lines feel... kind of empty."
There was no real emotion in the actors' delivery.
It looked like they were forcing the lines out just to match the situation.
"That's a shame. It would've been nice if it felt more sincere."
Was this what it felt like to watch other people imitate something you had already mastered?
Either way, Kang Woojin did not know.
Without realizing it, his knowledge of acting was slowly building up.
By repeatedly reading different roles, all kinds of emotions and expressions were layering over one another in his mind.
It was a training method no one else could have even imagined.
Then—
Bzzzz. Bzzzz.
While the drama continued playing on his phone, it vibrated.
A call.
The caller was his friend, Kim Daeyoung.
Woojin immediately rolled onto his side and answered.
"Why are you calling this late at night?"
From the other end, Kim Daeyoung replied,
"Let's meet tomorrow after work. You promised to buy me meat last time."
Then he added with a yawn,
"And bring the scripts and scenario you borrowed."
Late evening the next day, Friday the 14th.
A little past eight, Kang Woojin was walking near Jeongja Station.
As usual, he was wearing a padded jacket and jeans.
Today, though, he also had on a cap.
There was no need to worry about his hair when meeting Kim Daeyoung.
"I think it's around here."
Woojin glanced around.
He was looking for the samgyeopsal place Daeyoung had told him about.
Right then, his phone rang.
"Hm?"
Woojin checked the caller ID and smiled faintly.
It was PD Song Manwoo.
What could this be about?
Clearing his throat, Woojin answered.
"Yes, hello."
From the other end, Song Manwoo greeted him brightly.
"Woojin, how are you?"
"I'm doing well, thank you."
"By the way, do you have any idea how much your appearance fee should be? I'm not trying to bargain. I'm just curious."
Appearance fee?
Why was he suddenly bringing that up?
Woojin was slightly caught off guard.
"..."
Song Manwoo continued.
"Of course, I'm sure most people—maybe everyone—think about appearance fees. Alright, let's talk realistically."
"...Realistically."
"Right. Thinking about it, Writer Park pointed out that we rushed the casting too quickly. I agreed. We should take different circumstances into account."
"..."
"Alright then. We don't have much time either. We need to finalize the casting for Assistant Manager Park soon. Think it over today, and tomorrow we'll meet, discuss the conditions, and decide."
The exact conditions were still unclear, but Woojin did not mind.
He simply wanted to do the project.
"I understand."
Hearing Woojin's firm reply, PD Song Manwoo told him the meeting place.
"Come to C-Blue Studio tomorrow at ten in the morning. The same place where we had our meeting."
A little later—
Kang Woojin and Kim Daeyoung were seated across from each other, enthusiastically eating samgyeopsal.
The sizzling meat quickly disappeared into their mouths, and the soju glasses were refilled several times.
And the topic right now was—
"You know, when I told my coworkers I met Hong Hyeyeon in person, they were insanely jealous."
Of course, the topic was top actress Hong Hyeyeon.
And of course, Daeyoung—her biggest fan—was the one who brought it up first.
"And you even made eye contact with her that day, right? Ah, what a waste. We should've taken a photo."
Watching him, Woojin scoffed inwardly.
Because of that? Hah. Hong Hyeyeon actually called my name herself. Kang Woojin.
If he said that out loud, Daeyoung would probably pass out.
But Woojin decided not to mention it.
Just then—
"Woojin."
With three pieces of samgyeopsal wrapped in lettuce stuffed into his mouth, Daeyoung changed the subject.
"So what are you planning to do about work? You already quit and you've been resting for about two weeks now, right?"
Reality suddenly entered the conversation.
"After taking a break, shouldn't you start job hunting? If you keep resting like this, are you planning to just rest forever? Want me to ask around at our company's design team?"
"You think a small company would hire me?"
"I'm not saying as a full-time employee. At least look for contract work. In design, your portfolio matters, right?"
"..."
At that moment, Kang Woojin looked at him and asked,
"Let's say a completely unknown actor gets cast in a project by a famous PD or writer. What would you do?"
Daeyoung's expression turned serious.
"Who's the female lead?"
"Let's say it's Hong Hyeyeon."
"Then that question is a waste of time."
"So you'd just do it?"
"Of course. I'd charge straight in. Especially if the female lead is Hong Hyeyeon."
Daeyoung emptied a glass of soju and continued.
"Do you think famous PDs or talented writers even notice unknown actors? They're basically plankton. And if the female lead is a top actress like Hong Hyeyeon, it's basically a miracle for some unknown actor to get cast."
"Is it really that hard?"
"It's not just hard. It's almost impossible. Big dramas don't need unknown actors. Tons of actors want those roles. Even supporting roles are hard to get, let alone major ones. Usually, you need connections—family, coworkers, school ties, something."
"Family, coworkers, and school ties."
"Exactly. That's how the entertainment industry works. So how would a complete unknown land a role there? I'd kill for it if I had to—but in reality, that kind of thing doesn't happen."
"Yeah."
Sorry, but that exact thing is happening to me right now.
After quietly listening to Daeyoung's long explanation, Woojin asked another question.
"Then if you were that unknown actor and got the role, how much appearance fee would you expect?"
"Appearance fee? What do you mean? The amount doesn't matter. I'd gratefully accept whatever they offered."
"Is it really that serious?"
"Hey! Like I said, just entering that world as an unknown actor is already a miracle. Getting the role itself is the miracle. Negotiating the fee? Hmm, they probably wouldn't offer much. Rookie actors usually get around thirty thousand won per episode. And even that's considered a lot."
"Thirty thousand won?"
"Yeah. Even if they gave you three thousand dollars per episode, you'd still be grateful. Just getting cast could change your life."
Honestly, Woojin thought the number sounded ridiculously small.
He understood that actors were freelancers, but still—
it felt too low.
At that moment—
"Oh, right."
After filling Woojin's empty soju glass, Daeyoung held out his hand.
"By the way, did you bring the script and scenario?"
Woojin handed him the paper bag he had brought.
Of course, it also contained several copies of the short film scenario for The Private Investigator, just in case.
As he rummaged through the bag, Daeyoung spoke again.
"Did you actually read this? You suddenly asked for it earlier. Don't tell me you just used it as a ramen bowl coaster."
"I read it. By the way, is that short film The Private Investigator really going into production?"
"Oh, I heard from a friend that it is. I thought it would fail for sure, but maybe they found an investor."
"Oh? So they're holding actor auditions now?"
"Not sure. My friend did mention auditions, though. Short films usually already have the lead and supporting actors decided."
Hearing that, Kang Woojin crossed his arms and fell into thought.
A moment later, he asked,
"Do you know which production company or studio is making The Private Investigator*?"*
Turning over the meat on the charcoal grill, Daeyoung narrowed his eyes.
"...You're acting weird. Why are you suddenly interested in this? You never cared before."
"No, it's just... I read it, and it was interesting. So I thought I'd watch it when it comes out."
"..."
Daeyoung looked at him suspiciously for a moment, then shrugged.
"Alright. I don't know the production company either, but I'll ask my friend."
A few minutes later, Daeyoung returned after stepping outside to make a call and sat back down.
"I sent you a link."
He waved his phone.
"It's a movie community site. If you go there, there's info on The Private Investigator. Look it up yourself."
Ten the next morning, at C-Blue Studio.
Inside a meeting room at C-Blue Studio, two familiar figures were already there.
One was PD Song Manwoo in a light jacket.
The other was a man wearing glasses.
Writer Park Eunmi was not there.
Both men looked serious.
Several transparent file folders were spread across the table in front of them.
Then—
Click.
The glass door opened.
The production manager of Profiler Hanryang walked in.
Behind him—
"Hello."
Kang Woojin entered as well, greeting them in a low voice.
At the sight of him, Song Manwoo's serious expression softened into a slight smile.
"Come in. Sit here."
He pointed to the seat across from him.
As Woojin slowly approached, Song Manwoo silently studied him.
More precisely, he was trying to read his mood.
As always, he looks cynical.
But it was pointless.
With Woojin's expressionless face, it was impossible to tell what he was thinking.
He had looked like that from the very first time they met.
He hides his emotions well, but the moment he acts, he becomes a completely different person. Interesting.
Soon, Song Manwoo handed Woojin one of the transparent file folders.
"Take a look. Mr. Kang Woojin, this is the draft of your contract."
"Alright."
Opening the same file himself, Song Manwoo smiled.
"There's a lot of complicated language in there. But what I want to tell you directly is the appearance fee we settled on."
Woojin looked at him.
Song Manwoo pointed to one part of the contract.
"Mr. Woojin, your appearance fee will be 2.5 million won per episode."
A little over three thousand won.
Roughly nine hundred times that amount.
"So. 2.5 million won per episode."
For the briefest moment—
Woojin's expressionless face twitched.