The Era of Unchecked Advertisements
Nowadays, anyone with enough money can air ads, even shady companies charging 44% interest on loans.
That’s why picking the right commercials is crucial.
The face of an ad defines an entertainer’s future image.
Choi Seok-ho was particularly cautious, wanting to avoid locking Kim Dong-hoo into one particular image.
He needed to leave the door open for anything, not getting pigeonholed by one wrong advertisement.
And then, out of nowhere—
"Am I seeing this right?"
A sudden proposal for an instant rice commercial left him stunned.
"Ottubap and FJ… both really want Dong-hoo for an instant rice ad?"
Ottubap and Hetban.
It was as if they had coordinated, with both proposals being strikingly similar.
Both were lengthy, but the gist was simple:
“For your 10-million-tickets promise, please eat our rice! Then shoot the commercial and become our ad model!”
Given the scale of the offers, Choi Seok-ho immediately reached out to Kim Dong-hoo.
Logically, Hetban seemed like the obvious choice due to its higher brand recognition, but Choi Seok-ho always valued Dong-hoo’s input first and foremost.
He supported any decision Dong-hoo made.
Dong-hoo, can you stop by the office when you have time?
I have a meeting about a commercial.
It’s about instant rice—Ottubap and Hetban both want you, and we have to choose one.
It’s not urgent, but the sooner we decide, the better. Let me know when you’re free, haha!
With a flurry of thumb taps, the message was sent.
Suddenly—
Bam!
"I think Hetban is the better option."
The reply didn’t come from cyberspace, but from the real world. Dong-hoo had arrived right then.
His timing was impeccable.
"Really? Hetban looks good to you?"
"Yes, it has a stronger brand presence."
"Right, in cases like this, it’s usually best to go with the favorite."
Even without much deliberation, Dong-hoo was already leaning toward Hetban.
After all, it was practically a lifesaver during his time in the military, especially their Bibim Galbi Dumplings.
‘If it weren’t for those, I wouldn’t have survived my military service.’
Of course, it wasn’t just sentiment driving his choice. It was also the more rational decision for his future.
Reflecting on the past for a moment, Dong-hoo got to the real reason he had come to the agency early.
"Sek-ho hyung, do we have any scripts for The Story of Stars and Moon?"
His inquiry was prompted by a message from Sims – The Real Life.
+++++
Let’s rewind a little, to the day before the Hetban CF proposal arrived.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
In the middle of the night, a sudden text jolted me from sleep.
"What’s this?"
I was used to Sims messages popping up at odd times, but this was extreme.
My groggy eyes reluctantly focused on the screen, and what I read left me wide awake.
The first message, about the CF, didn’t surprise me much. But the second one? My eyes widened.
‘I’m getting more projects?’
As if my current schedule wasn’t busy enough, was this really saying I’d take on another one?
I was already stretched thin, planning to take a break after Il-sik. Now, suddenly, a new project was looming.
What kind of production could it possibly be, for me to take on more work at this point?
Excited by the prospect, I ran straight to the office as soon as school ended.
But—
"Uh... we don’t have anything like that."
Sek-ho hyung’s response floored me once again.
"Nothing?"
"Yeah, I have a good memory for titles, and I’ve never seen that one before. No emails, no scripts."
Nothing?
Actually, when you think about it, it did make sense.
After all—
‘Sims messages come from the future.’
So, was it a project that didn’t exist yet?
"The title’s really unique. Where did you hear about it?"
"Oh, I just thought I saw it somewhere recently. Got curious about the story."
I fumbled for an answer, not exactly able to say I’d seen it in the future.
"By the way, why did you come here early today? Do you need help with something?"
"Ah, no, I just missed the pork cutlet and stir-fried pork from the first-floor restaurant."
"Ahh, I get it! That place is amazing."
They even give out an extra fried egg to tenants!
At his words, I couldn’t help but burst into laughter. Yeah, eggs were a big deal.
"So, hyung, want to go grab some pork cutlet with me?"
"Sounds great."
Just as we were about to head out for lunch—
Ring, ring, ring.
A phone call interrupted us.
No one usually called at this hour. Curious, I checked the caller ID. Of course, there was only one person it could be.
"Hello, Director Kang."
It was none other than Director Kang, the man behind Endless Frontline.
He paused for a moment before speaking in a slightly trembling voice.
"Hey, Dong-hoo, how have you been?"
"Thanks to you, Director, I’ve been doing well."
"Haha, you’re always so polite. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that next week, we might hit 10 million tickets..."
He trailed off, but his voice betrayed his excitement.
‘How much he must have wanted this.’
I suddenly recalled an interview I’d seen with him in my previous life.
He had once confidently stated, "A commercial film director should make entertaining movies for the audience."
But there had been a certain sadness in his eyes, a regret over never having reached 10 million viewers.
That memory resurfaced, and maybe that’s why I responded without hesitation.
"Of course, I’ll be there. Just say the word, and I’ll be right over."
I had already planned to attend, but now, I was more determined than ever.
+++++
"...The numbers are in! 10 million and 73 people! Endless Frontline has officially crossed the 10-million-ticket milestone!"
At that announcement from Studio Geumgang’s CEO, Park Geum-gang—
"Woohoooooo!"
Director Kang let out a roar of triumph, the sound bubbling up from deep within him.
It was the fourth Sunday of Endless Frontline’s release, and the cast and crew were throwing a massive party to celebrate the achievement.
"...I...I actually hit 10 million."
During the festive gathering, Director Kang suddenly stood up, jamming a spoon into a soju bottle to use as a makeshift microphone.
He was about to deliver his long-awaited speech.
"...It took me a really, really long time to get here. Honestly, at one point, I thought I might never reach this moment."
But now that I’m here, I realize something.
"This isn’t something one person can achieve alone. It takes everyone moving together as one."
Thank you all for supporting such a flawed director.
In a rare display of humility, Director Kang bowed at a 90-degree angle, shocking everyone present.
Even a simple bow would’ve surprised the team, but to see tears falling from his lowered head...
Of course, these weren’t tears of sadness.
They were tears of joy, overflowing from a heart filled with gratitude.
Han Tae-gun slung an arm around Kim Dong-hoo’s shoulder, grinning.
"No matter how you look at it, the star of the 10-million movie is our Dong-hoo."
"Obviously! Why else would the 10-million-ticket promise involve rice and beef soup?"
"Seriously, where did we find this lucky charm?"
Goo Chang-sik and Seo Myung-woo chimed in, each throwing more compliments at Kim Dong-hoo, turning his face a deeper shade of red.
"I-I’m honored that you all think so highly of me."
Still not used to being showered with praise, Dong-hoo bowed his head.
"That’s it!"
Park Geum-gang suddenly shouted, intent on raising the energy even higher.
"His first drama High Dream hit 30% viewership! His first short film won four awards at Mise-en-scène! And now, his first commercial film hits 10 million viewers!"
The crowd erupted in cheers, and Park continued.
"Is it even possible to move on without hearing from our superstar, Kim Dong-hoo?!"
"No way!"
"We need to hear from him!"
"Dong-hoo, you’re the one who made Director Kang cry, so you have to say something!"
Laughter.
The crew of Endless Frontline laughed and carried on with their celebrations, completely unaware of one thing.
‘It’s almost time for The Swordsman Baek Dong-su.'
While filming for the movie, Kim Dong-hoo had also been working on a historical drama simultaneously. They’d all be shocked when the trailer airs tomorrow.
It was something to look forward to.
+++++
"Endless Frontline hits 10 million! How did it happen? A deep-dive analysis..."
"Kim Dong-hoo becomes a 10-million-ticket actor. An incredible achievement on his first film!"
The morning after the party, the media was flooded with articles about Endless Frontline.
There was plenty to write about, and everything they published sparked a flurry of reactions.
"Kim Dong-hoo did it again, huh?"
"Seriously, just look at his track record. It’s unbelievable."
"This guy—did he pay someone off or something? How is this possible?"
"You can’t just buy your way to 10 million tickets, LOL."
"Hey, anyone wanna team up with me on Nova 1592? I’m a pro."
As expected, Endless Frontline dominated the trending searches:
People couldn’t stop talking about Kim Dong-hoo.
No matter how much they discussed him, the topics never seemed to run dry. In fact, some journalists felt they hadn’t even scratched the surface.
After all, how could they properly cover his achievements in Mise-en-scène when, by the time they sat down to write, he was already starring in a commercial film with 10 million viewers?
It was an unprecedented phenomenon—one that left the press struggling to keep up with the rapidly rising star.
‘But surely things will slow down now, right?’
‘He’s only human. There’s no way he’ll take on more work after this.’
Those were the thoughts running through many journalists’ minds as they settled in for a relaxed evening.
Until—
"...Wait, what? Why is he on TV again?"
They found themselves staring at Kim Dong-hoo, playing the role of Ja-un in The Swordsman Baek Dong-su.
"This can’t be happening!"
It was another late night at the office.