Currently, the only advertisement Seoyeon had properly filmed was for Eclat Etoile. She hadn’t really done any other ads.

Whenever she appeared on TV, Seoyeon always used Eclat Etoile’s cosmetics, and she frequently promoted the brand whenever she got the chance. From the company’s perspective, she became a very cost-effective celebrity.

…Although she felt like it had been used as a bit of an excuse on her end.

Anyway, now that she was being referred to as one of the top trending celebrities, the number of offers for advertisements had increased significantly.

Some of these offers were for things that didn’t quite fit Seoyeon personally, like gaming pads or fishing rods.

Of course, there were legitimate offers as well, but she hadn’t had much time recently to actually film any commercials.

‘But I should start thinking about it now.’

After all, ads bring in a lot of money. And they also help improve a celebrity’s public image.

‘…Especially since I probably lost some goodwill with Hyper Action Star.'

She felt like she might have gotten a little too intense during the action audition. To be honest, Seoyeon was somewhat disappointed that Min Doha hadn’t made it to the finals.

His acting style had meshed well with hers in many ways. Who would’ve thought a Japanese actor wielding nunchucks would make it to the final round?

‘Narumi Sora, right?’

Seoyeon muttered her name under her breath, tilting her head in thought.

She didn’t have any particular thoughts about her.

Usually, you could just search a name online, and a wealth of information would pop up automatically. But when it came to Narumi Sora, there wasn’t much to find.

‘If she went back to Japan, that might explain it.’

She had never really been interested in the Japanese entertainment scene, either in this life or the previous one, so it wasn’t surprising that she didn’t know much. Still, it was a shame if Narumi’s impressive acting in the finals went unnoticed.

And besides…

‘I didn’t even get to ask if she watches VTubers.’

Not that it seemed like something Narumi would be into. She had been quite guarded before the finals, and afterward, she’d just stared at Seoyeon with a somber expression.

‘But I left a good impression—why was she like that?’

Seoyeon felt a little annoyed. After all, she had played the hero in this performance.

Yet Narumi had taken on the villain role again, which meant that Seoyeon’s image had once again been associated with the murderous Cha Seo-ah.

• Aren’t you tired of always playing the tough characters?
• How about quitting TV and joining UFC instead, Seoyeon?

 

Comments like these had even appeared on her articles. Apparently, many people now thought of her as someone with an overwhelming physical presence. Judging by the number of likes those comments got, it seemed like a lot of people agreed.

‘That’s actually a better reaction.’

Her fan club had been flooded with all sorts of meme creations, after all. Seoyeon felt relieved that the era of AI deepfakes hadn’t yet fully taken off.

If AI had been as widespread now as it would be in the future, she’d probably already be deepfaked into countless battle scenes with enemies, thanks to her action roles. Just imagining it made her shiver.

‘…I’ll be appearing in a variety show soon.’

She only had two weeks left until the filming for that observational variety show began. It wasn’t far off.

Still, before that, it would be good to consider taking on another advertisement. Not so much for the money, but for the sake of her public image.

However…

“Seoyeon, what do you think of this chicken ad?”

That brand would be revealed to have mistreated its franchise owners in six months.

“Oh, this one looks good, too. It’s a new brand launched by a famous BJ. It’s pretty popular with the younger crowd.”

This brand, started by an internet broadcast BJ who ventured into business, would completely collapse within a year. And of course, any actors associated with the ads would see their reputations nosedive as well.

‘This is tricky...’

While there were plenty of safe, average ads, nothing stood out as a perfect fit. Seoyeon sighed.

Sometimes, having too much information could be a disadvantage. When you know too much, you tend to overthink things.

Maybe she should just pick anything.

But among all these offers, none seemed particularly helpful in improving her image.

‘Why don’t I get luxury brand offers like Sunbae Jung-woo does?’

That thought crossed her mind, but then she recalled how the internet currently viewed her.

‘...It can’t be helped.’

She had no choice but to accept it. The image she had now was far from the dignified and elegant one typically associated with actresses.

‘Maybe I really should consider doing that public service ad for the fire department.’

Then again, would it really be right for Seoyeon, who had been running around wielding a fire axe, to do a PSA? She wasn’t sure.

“I’ll think about it a little more.”

“Alright. You’re busy with your acting career anyway, so it’s best to be careful with ad choices,” her manager, Park Eun-ha, replied.

Seeing Seoyeon looking a little down, Park Eun-ha couldn’t help but admire her.

‘So many big ad offers, yet she’s prioritizing her acting projects.’

Park Eun-ha was deeply attached to Seoyeon. In her eyes, Seoyeon was an actor who put her craft first, even when she was at the peak of her popularity.

In reality, Seoyeon had only done one ad—for Eclat Etoile. She hadn’t even glanced at the others that had come her way.

What a role model for other actors!

Anyway…

‘I need to bring back that mysterious aura she had.’

As Seoyeon was deep in thought, an idea suddenly came to her. Although none of the offers she had received stood out, there was one company she could directly approach.

It was an advertisement for a chair brand.

 

________

A week had passed since the end of Hyper Action Star.

Seoyeon found herself visiting GH Group again.

First, she was there to receive congratulations for her victory in the show. Second, they needed to go over her future schedule.

“Congratulations on the audition. Unfortunately, it looks like filming won’t start right away.”

Kang Tae-jin, the director of the cultural business department at GH Group, explained that while they had found the lead, they were still in the process of casting the other roles.

“Filming will probably start in three months… likely around the time the current drama finishes.”

He mentioned Sky Garden, to which Seoyeon nodded, familiar with the ongoing drama. Then Kang Tae-jin gestured toward a man standing nearby.

It was their first time meeting in person, but as soon as Seoyeon saw him, she knew who he was.

‘Director Han Ye-gun?’

In her previous life, he had already made a name for himself.

Even now, people referred to him as a "genius director," but his true acclaim would come in a few years.

By the time OTT dramas became the dominant force, he would truly shine. He had directed dramas with cinematic visuals, thanks to massive investments from global OTT platforms.

‘Child Game.’

That was the name, wasn’t it? The show had been so famous that Seoyeon didn’t even need to rack her brain to recall it.

He was known for being incredibly stubborn. Despite the massive success of his show, he had refused to make a second season, stepping down after the first.

Child Game's second season, made without him, didn’t live up to the first. Although it still did well, it couldn’t compare to the success of the original.

‘But is that same director working on Mine?’

Is that a good idea?

What about Child Game?

‘If Mine is the reason Child Game gets shelved…’

That would be a huge loss. After all, Child Game had had a massive impact on the Korean drama industry.

“...Do you know me?”

At that moment, Director Han Ye-gun, who had been silent until now, spoke up.

“Huh?”

Seoyeon, caught off guard, responded with confusion.

“You’ve been staring at me for a while now. I wondered if you recognized me.”

“Oh, yes. I do. You’re Director Han Ye-gun, right?”

“Hm. I didn’t expect an actress of your age to know who I am.”

His words made him sound like a grizzled, veteran director, but Han Ye-gun was only in his mid-thirties, relatively young for a successful director.

‘His peculiar personality was well-known even in my previous life.’

Han Ye-gun had a reputation for clashing with actors. He was known for being headstrong and inflexible.

But he was also incredibly talented, which made actors want to work with him, even if they complained about his temperament.

“Oh, I mentioned him earlier. Director Han Ye-gun will be working on Mine.”

“Ah.”

Kang Tae-jin, who had been listening to their conversation, interjected.

“Director Han said he had something he really wanted to tell you, Seoyeon.”

“Ah, yes, well…”

Han Ye-gun nodded to Kang Tae-jin’s words, a knowing smile on his face. There was a lot Han Ye-gun wanted to say to Seoyeon.

‘In person, she’s definitely different from her TV persona.’

The online community had made her out to be a bit of a joke, but that was just internet talk.

Despite the memes floating around humor sites, the image of “Actress Ju Seoyeon” was still incredibly positive.

‘Her most iconic role is Cha Seo-ah.’

In other words, she had a villainous image.

Not a low-level, crude villain, but the kind that had a unique flair, an aura of malevolence.

Mysterious eyes. Long, jet-black hair reminiscent of a dark night.

Her cool, icy demeanor suited her well.

‘I understand why so many directors want to cast her as a villain.’

Han Ye-gun often exchanged stories with other directors. Whenever they talked about actors, Ju Seoyeon’s name came up more often than anyone else’s.

Young actresses, especially talented ones, were rare.

Even if directors wanted to cast young actors, they often had to settle for more experienced ones due to the lack of talent among the younger generation.

So, a skilled actress like Seoyeon was a rare find.

That’s why Jo Seohui, another talented young actress, was so beloved by directors.

And recently, along with Jo Seohui, Ju Seoyeon had risen to become one of the most sought-after young actresses.

‘But is Ju Seoyeon only suited for villain roles? Hmm, I don’t think that’s the case.’

After all, in Dream Future, she had played the lively Jo Harin.

Perhaps that’s more aligned with her true personality.

‘It’s just that Cha Seo-ah’s image overshadows Jo Harin.’

Han Ye-gun stroked his chin as he observed Seoyeon.

On TV, she had seemed like the type to play dark, mysterious roles. From the very beginning of Hyper Action Star, her character Yeohwa had been similar to her role as Cha Seo-ah.

But seeing Seoyeon in person… how should he put it?

‘She’s actually quite bubbly, isn’t she?’

If you looked closely, it was obvious. She might be hiding behind a poker face, but her eyes were full of emotion, constantly moving.

As she gazed at Han Ye-gun, she radiated an intense curiosity.

Han Ye-gun, who was usually sensitive to such things, found himself smiling despite himself.

‘Smiling, huh.’

Normally, actors would observe him with nervous eyes, calling him a “genius director.”

Rumors about his temperamental nature were also widespread.

That’s why Han Ye-gun generally disliked being stared at.

But for some reason, Seoyeon’s gaze made him smile.

Why?

It felt like he was being looked at by a curious puppy meeting a stranger for the first time.

It was pure, innocent curiosity.

“Seoyeon.”

“Yes?”

Han Ye-gun had already seen her act.

While her physical abilities were impressive to say the least, that wasn’t what acting was about.

“I have a lot of things I want to try in this movie.”

Maybe he could draw out the cheerful personality she was showing now, while also showcasing the intense strength she had displayed in Hyper Action Star as Yeohwa.

He wanted to present both sides of her character.

“You can do it, right?”

This wasn’t so much a question as a declaration.

Most actors would feel nervous after being addressed like this, but Seoyeon, her eyes gleaming with determination, simply nodded.

Her enthusiasm left Han Ye-gun feeling quite satisfied.

“Very good.”

Han Ye-gun, known for his stoic demeanor, broke into a broad smile.

 

_______

“Huh? A commercial?”

Kwak Hyun-woo, the head of the advertising planning department at Aidz Chairs, couldn’t believe what he had just heard.

“Is that true?”

“Yes, sir. It was a manager from Nova Entertainment. She said she represented Ju Seoyeon.”

“So, you’re saying Ju Seoyeon wants to do an ad for our brand?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

Kwak Hyun-woo blinked in disbelief.

Sure, Aidz was a moderately successful chair brand.

But compared to its competitors, it didn’t stand out.

And more importantly…

‘We don’t hire expensive ad models.’

They didn’t see much value in hiring big-name models. In the past, they had hired several trending celebrities for ads, but they hadn’t seen any real results from it.

Hiring unknown actors or idols didn’t make much of a difference. That’s why Aidz had stopped pursuing high-profile celebrities.

“Wow, she’s a hot topic right now. How much is she planning to charge?”

The fact that her agency had reached out first was unusual.

Though it happened on occasion, it was rare.

Usually, such deals were the result of a personal connection.

Nova Entertainment had worked with Aidz in the past, advertising another actor. It was likely that connection that made this possible.

But with Ju Seoyeon’s current level of fame, Aidz wasn’t expecting her to reach out to them.

‘This is strange.’

At her level, she should be getting a flood of CF offers. Why would she choose Aidz of all brands?

“So, shall I send a polite rejection email?”

“Wait, hold on. Let’s think about it.”

After some hesitation, Kwak Hyun-woo crossed his arms, swaying as he pondered.

“Alright, let’s schedule a meeting.”

Let’s hear what the reason is.

That was his decision.

He couldn’t figure out why Ju Seoyeon wanted to advertise for Aidz.