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CH239 | Heir
🕑 Added 2025-09-03 17:12:24 +0000 UTCThe contract with Director Bong Ho-jun was finalized.
Instead of the original 10 billion won production budget, we signed for double that—20 billion won—and I personally issued him a 200 million won signing bonus.
Not only that, I also significantly increased the percentage of his box office performance-based royalties.
Now that I had secured the best director…
It was time to sign with the best writers.
Writers who hadn’t yet bloomed could even be locked into exclusive contracts, so I needed to move quickly.
“Hello, I’m Kim Min-jae from Taewoo Group.”
“Vice Chairman, it’s an honor to meet you. I’m truly overwhelmed that someone of your stature would visit such a modest workspace.”
The one welcoming me was Director Kang Ho-joon.
He was a decent director in his own right, but he wasn’t the reason I came.
I was here to meet his wife—Im Hee-young—who would go on to become a defining figure in the history of Korean drama.
“If it means recruiting great directors and writers, I’ll go wherever I need to.”
“You’re interested in my work? Someone like Vice Chairman Kim taking notice of my films… I’ve got one more thing to brag about now!”
Director Kang was… a lighthearted man.
But that didn’t mean he was a joke. In fact, he had a strange charm that could lift the mood of any room.
“Whatever your next project is, Taewoo Entertainment will fully support it. We’ll cover the entire production budget and provide anything else you might need.”
“Oh wow, thank you! I should’ve been the one to draft a proposal and visit you, but to receive an offer like this first… I’m just grateful. Should I sign now? Ah! I left my seal at home—will a fingerprint work?”
I couldn’t help but smile.
Having someone like Director Kang around meant you'd never be bored.
“That’s more than fine. Also, I’d like to speak with the writer—would that be possible?”
“The writer? Who do you mean?”
“I heard Writer Im Hee-young is here at the studio.”
“You mean my Hee-young? She’s been writing a bit lately, but she hasn’t debuted yet.”
Had I come too early?
She hadn’t even made her debut yet.
Still, I couldn’t just leave after coming all the way here.
Signing Director Kang Ho-joon had always been part of the groundwork to recruit Im Heeyoung.
“They say you can tell a great tree from its sprout. Taewoo Entertainment’s scouting team has been very impressed by Writer Im Hee-young.”
“Honey! Did you hear that? Come quickly! You might be able to launch your debut project!”
“Ahem… I appreciate the offer, but I’m still just learning. I’m not ready to sign any kind of contract yet…”
From a quiet corner where she’d been typing on her laptop, Im Hee-young slowly approached.
With no makeup and oversized glasses, she looked shy and lacking in confidence.
“At Taewoo Entertainment, we’re also dedicated to nurturing new talent. We promise to fully support you so you can write exactly what you want.”
“It’s a generous offer, but… you don’t even know what kind of stories I write. How could I accept it under those circumstances?”
“Then would you mind letting me see what you're working on now?”
“Please wait a moment. I’ll print the synopsis for you right away.”
The synopsis—essentially a summary of her current project.
Im Hee-young returned with a five-page printout and handed it to me.
I adjusted my posture and read her debut synopsis carefully, not missing a single word.
And then… wait, what was this?
It was completely different from the kind of stories I knew her for.
In the future, she would dominate the Korean drama scene as a genre fiction specialist.
But the piece she was working on now… was a romance.
“Hmm… So you're writing a romance piece.”
“Yes, a beautiful yet tragic love story.”
“From your writing style, I think something more thrilling would suit you even better. Ah! That’s not to say your current work is bad—far from it.”
“Really? Honestly, while I was writing, it did start to feel like romance wasn’t quite the right fit for me.”
“What’s clear to me is that you have tremendous potential. Would you consider signing a longterm exclusive contract with Taewoo Entertainment? We’ll offer 300 million won up front as a signing bonus, and the contract will span ten years.”
An upfront payment of 300 million won to a writer who hadn’t even debuted yet.
Director Kang Ho-joon was more shocked than she was, raising his voice in disbelief.
“You’re offering 300 million won just for signing? Are there hidden conditions—like needing to complete a certain number of works within the 10 years? You’re not signing her into some lifetime slave contract, right?”
“Even if she doesn’t write a single work during the ten years, we won’t ask for the money back. And I can promise you this: any story Writer Im wants to create, we’ll guarantee to produce it as a drama.”
Where would you find a better deal than this?
The offer was so generous that Writer Im Hee-young looked more burdened than excited.
Fortunately, Director Kang Ho-joon was doing a stellar job playing the cheerleader at her side.
“What’s there to think about? Just sign the contract already. If you're going to be a servant, better to serve in a rich household! There’s nothing to lose by signing with Taewoo Group.”
“But I haven’t even proven myself. Why are you offering me such a deal?”
“I invest not in the past or the present—but in the future. And Writer Im Hee-young, you absolutely deserve this offer.”
Despite the flattery, Im Hee-young’s face remained unreadable.
Still, every person longs for recognition—it’s only human. And I knew how to fan that desire.
Even so, she stood her ground, showing no signs of wavering. So I simply waited quietly for her decision.
“I’ll accept the offer. But I still lack the skills. So I’ll postpone receiving the signing bonus for one year. I want to prove I’m worth it by then.”
“Even if you decline the signing bonus for now, we’ll still provide you with a space to work.”
“…Thank you.”
I promptly pulled out the contract.
And just like that, I signed both Director Kang Ho-joon and Writer Im Hee-young.
***
Over the next few days, I met with an incredible number of directors and writers.
If Im Hee-young would go on to represent the genre drama scene, I also locked in a deal with Lee Seo-hee, a writer who would one day become the face of romance dramas.
“So far, we’ve signed contracts with 10 directors and 15 writers. Do you think the content division is finally ready to operate at full capacity?”
“More than ready. We might even have to bring in freelance staff to handle the upcoming projects.”
“Aren’t there still some idle departments? I heard the music production team hasn’t had much to do yet.”
“Since it’s a newly established division, there have been some growing pains. But we’re currently in talks to sign a contract with a top-tier artist.”
In some ways, music was the crown jewel of the cultural industry.
Korea’s future in music was so bright, a new term— K-POP —would eventually be born to define it.
“Securing an A-list singer must be tough.”
“Since Taewoo Entertainment is a new player, there’s some hesitation. But we own BerryMusic, the top music platform in Korea. If we keep pushing, I believe we can sign artists even above A-list status.”
“Recruiting an A-list artist must come with a hefty price tag.”
“We’re offering 1 billion won for a three-year exclusive contract. Since we’re a new company, we’re offering more than the market average.”
Even though we were operating with trillion-won capital…
Spending a billion won on a single artist was still a serious amount of money.
“Hmm… Maybe it would be better to train our own rookie. Doesn’t it cost less than a billion won to produce a full idol group?”
“That’s true, but training rookie idols is like playing the lottery. Especially for a new company like Taewoo Entertainment, fandoms tend to form more slowly, so the chances of success aren’t very high.”
“So you're saying it's better to bring in a proven A-list singer instead.”
“Even if we offer a large signing bonus, contracting with an A-list artist won’t result in a loss at the very least.”
The Strategy Director wasn’t wrong.
To elevate a fledgling company’s brand, we needed a marquee star.
But that didn’t mean I was giving up on idol development.
“Then let’s pursue a two-track approach. Recruit an A-list singer and simultaneously train rookies. Also, prepare a list of top-tier singers and a list of notable trainees from other agencies. And start organizing a large-scale audition.”
“You’re planning to bring in trainees from other agencies too?”
“It won’t cost much to recruit those who haven’t debuted yet. As long as we proceed ethically and stay within industry norms, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
Before my regression, I hadn’t paid much attention to the entertainment industry.
So I only knew a few names—and among them, the ones that stuck in my memory were the ones hailed as legends.
If I could bring in just those few, it would be as good as a guaranteed win.
Whether through auditions or scouting from other agencies, I had to make sure they signed with Taewoo Entertainment.
The next day, my desk was piled high with documents—lists of A-list singers and trainees from various agencies.
I started by reviewing the list of A-list singers, but none of them really appealed to me.
To be more precise, the ones I liked were already the face of major agencies—impossible to poach.
The rest were more like flash-in-the-pan stars with no potential for longevity.
Bringing in an A-list singer didn’t look like it would be all that profitable.
In that case, it would be better to use the money elsewhere to generate buzz.
“Director, you mentioned Taewoo Entertainment acquired three cable channels during its formation, correct?”
“Yes, that's right—music, gaming, and drama channels.”
“Perfect. Let’s launch an audition program on the music channel. A large-scale audition open to undiscovered singers, trainees, and even middle and high school students.”
Back in the 2010s, audition programs became a massive trend.
Quite a few singers rose to stardom overnight through those shows.
If we launched an audition program about five years ahead of the curve and signed the finalists to Taewoo Entertainment, we could instantly boost our brand image.
“By large-scale audition, do you mean something similar to the Riverfront Song Festival or the University Song Festival?”
“Similar—but with added drama elements. The show will run weekly for about three months, and contestants who don’t rank high will be eliminated to keep it exciting.”
“That’ll require a significant production budget.”
“The bigger the scale, the more talented participants we’ll attract. Let’s allocate 5 to 7 billion won for production. If we offer a 1 billion won grand prize and throw in a Taewoo Motors car, we’ll definitely generate major public interest.”
A grand prize of 1 billion won.
That was almost on par with winning the lottery.
A lottery win couldn’t guarantee a new life—but winning a nationwide audition program would offer not only the prize money, but also a shot at becoming a superstar overnight.
