Damn it. I’m screwed. My life is over.

“I’m not even worth living.”

An empty office.

Choi Seok-ho, the CEO of Veritas, stared blankly out the window.

The view outside was nice.

‘Too bad the view inside is the worst.’

Is there a word more fitting than “desolate” to describe this situation?

He thought he had enough connections and a solid career.

But everything had fallen apart.

Why?

Because he had crossed a major corporation.

“Did it really have to come to this?”

An actor choosing a project—that couldn’t be controlled. That was between the writer and director.

But an actor choosing an agency—that could have been controlled. Especially when it wasn’t just any agency, but a small one-man operation that had pissed off a big company.

Cyberus QA had no problem tightening the noose around him.

‘I just want to jump out the window.’

He had tried to recruit countless actors, adjusting the profit distribution to the best possible rates, negotiating contract lengths, even increasing the signing bonuses.

No matter what he did, he couldn’t sign a single actor.

Rumors had spread everywhere.

Choi Seok-ho had gone against Cyberus QA. And no actor who wanted to stay on the good side of Cyberus QA would sign with him.

At this point, he wanted to cry.

Everything he had built over the past fifteen years felt like it was crumbling away. His career, everything he’d worked for, was nothing more than a sandcastle.

‘I feel so alone.’

The fact that everyone had abandoned him didn’t help. Yes, it was true no one could really assist him in this situation. But still, for no one to reach out at all…

It hit him hard: after leaving the corporation, he was really nothing.

Choi Seok-ho sank deeper into his solitude.

So, he had hastily asked his landlord to have a meal together.

He wanted to grab hold of any stranger just to vent, to lean on the sudden kindness that had come his way.

He just wanted to have a conversation with someone.

‘It’s almost time to meet.’

He glanced around his empty office, with no employees or actors under contract. Then, he straightened his clothes in front of the mirror.

The landlord had said he might come, so all Seok-ho could do was wait quietly.

And just then—

Creak.

The door opened.

“Hello, I’m Kim Dong-hoo. Are you the CEO of Veritas?”

Light entered the room.

‘What the…?’

First of all, he was stunningly handsome. Like, ridiculously good-looking.

Next was his long, well-proportioned frame.

And lastly, the aura.

Choi Seok-ho had seen many actors with auras, and they all shared one thing in common—an overwhelming presence, the kind that couldn’t be ignored.

In that sense, Seok-ho was feeling the greatest presence right now.

And this boy had walked into his office on his own, looking for management? This was a god-given opportunity.

“Yes, yes! I’m CEO Choi Seok-ho!”

Without even realizing it, Seok-ho found himself speaking in formal language as he rushed toward the boy.

Kim Dong-hoo, was it? He’s incredibly handsome.

With that thought, Seok-ho immediately extended his hand for a handshake.

“Welcome to Veritas! What should we do first? A contract? Look into projects?”

Seok-ho was beyond excited.

But his excitement was short-lived.

“Dinner.”

“What?”

“You said we were having dinner today.”

Dinner? When did I make plans with this boy?

Then, suddenly, it hit him.

‘The dinner with the landlord.’

The pieces clicked into place, and Seok-ho’s mouth hung open in disbelief.

A look of utter shock spread across his face like a painting.

“…Y-you’re the landlord?!”

+++++

Awkward.

That was the only word that could describe the current situation.

Bubble, bubble.

The military stew on the table bubbled away, while Seok-ho and I sat there awkwardly, staring at each other.

“It should be ready soon,” the lady from the restaurant said before leaving us alone with our bubbling stew.

“So… how did you…?”

“Just luck. I did a bit of this and that.”

“Oh, well… feel free to speak casually. You’re the landlord…”

“No, you’re much older than me. I should be respectful.”

“Then… you can call me ‘hyung.’”

Seok-ho—or rather, Seok-ho hyung—was trying hard to break the awkwardness.

Honestly, I didn’t feel awkward at all, but he was clearly uncomfortable.

“Oh, well, if you insist. Thank you, Seok-ho hyung.”

“Oh, uh, yeah… So, uh, are you sure you’re okay with military stew?”

“Yes, this place makes it really well.”

By the way, we were in the basement of my building, at a restaurant called "Great Demon Military Stew." The owner knew me, which meant…

“Oh my! Our dear landlord Dong-hoo! You should’ve told us you were coming! Hey, ladies! Give him more noodles and an omelet on the house!”

Whenever I showed up, they always piled on the service.

“…They give omelets here?”

“Landlord perks. They’re really good.”

“Wow…” Seok-ho hyung murmured in awe, then seemed to snap back to his senses, speaking quickly again.

“Oh, I just wanted to personally thank you for the congratulatory wreaths you sent. It really meant a lot.”

“It’s nothing, really. Just what I do.”

“No, you don’t understand. I was going through a tough time, and it really helped.”

“Landlord Dong-hoo! The stew’s ready, so you can eat now!”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

The owner’s announcement marked the start of the meal. Seok-ho hyung, still looking a bit awkward, ladled the stew into my bowl.

A generous portion of ramen noodles and Spam—it was a clear sign of his goodwill.

“Thanks.”

“No, really, I should be thanking you.”

So, the meal continued, and for about five minutes, we ate in silence.

Throughout the meal, I noticed Seok-ho hyung kept shaking his head slightly, as if something was bothering him.

‘He’s definitely got something on his mind.’

And I knew exactly what it was. Just as I was about to casually bring it up to ease the tension—

“Have you ever thought about becoming an actor?”

Seok-ho hyung dove straight into the main topic.

“An actor?”

“Yes, if you became an actor, I swear… you’d become really famous. I’ve never seen anyone as handsome as you in my life.”

His expression was dead serious.

And in that moment, I saw a glimpse of my past self.

The me who, despite feeling powerless, kept pushing forward, refusing to curse the life that had fallen apart due to my looks, continuing to fight through everything.

For some reason, I saw that same determination in Seok-ho hyung.

“I’m already an actor.”

“Oh, you… are?”

Seok-ho’s face instantly aged a decade. I couldn’t believe how quickly a person could change like that. He looked like a balloon that had just deflated.

Seeing him like that, I quickly added fuel to the fire.

“But I don’t have an agency yet.”

“Wha—hold on, wait a second! Just wait right there!”

Chomp, chomp, chomp.

Seok-ho quickly stuffed a few bites of stew into his mouth and shot up from his seat. He must’ve been in such a hurry to get the contract papers.

‘I didn’t even say I wanted to sign anything yet.’

Of course, I knew I would. Sims - The Real Life had already made it clear my life would go smoothly.

Crash!

Once again, Seok-ho nearly tripped over himself as he rushed back to me, panting, a stack of papers in hand—presumably the contract, along with who knows what else.

+++++

Naturally, no contract was signed at the stew restaurant.

Seok-ho, realizing how ridiculous he had been acting, calmed down. Maybe it had been too long since he’d last met an actor without an agency?

His face flushed with embarrassment as he continued speaking.

“…So you’re currently appearing in High Dream in a supporting role, with about five episodes planned, right?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“And you’ve got 10,000 followers on FaceStorm…”

At this point, it was clear I wasn’t just any rookie. I had already adapted to being on set. There were cases like this.

When a major rookie appeared.

But usually, this only happened after an agency had groomed them to some extent.

‘So, someone can really handle all this on their own?’

Is this what talent looks like? Seok-ho wondered, snapping back to reality.

This contract had to succeed, and he was in a corner. Holding back anything now would be foolish.

“The signing bonus is three thousand, and the profit split is 9:1, with me taking the 1.”

He laid all his cards on the table.

No holding back and playing games, because he didn’t want to ruin things.

“The reason for three thousand is because I see potential in you. I know High Dream is going to be a massive hit, and since you’re already in the middle of filming…”

“As for the profit split, it’s the same reason. Usually, with rookies, there’s a lot of management involved. But in your case, there’s no need for a lot of care. You’ve already achieved so much on your own.”

“And finally, regarding the contract duration…”

Seok-ho closed his eyes tightly.

“I’ll make it just one year. Honestly, that’s the best I can offer.”

All he could do now was wait for my response. Where could anyone be more dangerous than a landlord with the upper hand?

Finally, I opened my mouth.

“Why are the conditions so good? I get the financial part, but couldn’t you have extended the contract length?”

“Because I can’t. I’m planning to do business based on trust. And at the same time, this is a declaration of confidence.”

“What?”

“I’m confident that, in a year, you’ll want to renew your contract with me.”

Please, will you give me that opportunity?

Hearing the tremor in his voice, I smiled broadly and answered.

“Of course.”

I agreed to sign, and Seok-ho immediately collapsed in relief.

“W-what… what should I call you? Landlord? M-Mr. Dong-hoo? Dong-hoo the landlord?”

How should I address you?

His awkwardness made me burst out laughing.

“You can just call me Dong-hoo.”

“O-okay, I understand, Dong-hoo landlord-ya.”

“…?”

Didn’t that sound a bit strange?

+++++

At the same time, over at Sinbit Middle School, where most of the kids were leaving for the day, a luxury sedan pulled up, and a man got out, staring intently at the school gate.

Surely, if the boy was as handsome as described, he would stand out immediately, right? He’d been thinking this for the last 40 minutes.

But no matter how long he waited, the boy didn’t appear. So, the man finally approached a nearby male student.

“Do you know a student named Kim Dong-hoo?”

“D-D-Dong-hoo? Dong-hoo?”

Glance.

The boy's name tag read “Na Gang-sik.” He was a bit chubby. Considering he knew Dong-hoo’s name, he was probably a friend.

“Yes, don’t worry, I’m not a stranger…”

The man pulled out a business card to show who he was.

Studio Geumgang, CEO Park Geum-gang.

He was someone who wanted nothing more than to make a successful film. And at this moment, he wanted Kim Dong-hoo more than anyone else.

But then—

“D-D-Dong-hoo hasn’t been coming to school lately.”

“W-what?! Why?!”

“Well, it’s personal information, so I can’t tell you that…”

“!”

That was a fair point. The young boy was sharp.

With no other options, CEO Park entered the school, met with Dong-hoo’s homeroom teacher, and after explaining the situation, he finally managed to get in touch with Dong-hoo’s parents.

After a long process, he finally got Kim Dong-hoo’s phone number.

It had taken forever.

Ring, ring… ring, ring… ring, ring…

Kim Dong-hoo, we have to meet.

CEO Park’s eyes burned with determination as he made the call.