Chapter 47: Sniper Drama (1)
Kim Si-woo headed to Seoul Arts University for his appointment with Park Woong-deok.
“Is this the place?”
Si-woo muttered, spotting Park Woong-deok’s unmistakable presence from afar.
“Director,” Si-woo called.
“Writer Kim! You’re here,” Woong-deok greeted.
“Is the person you’re introducing a student?” Si-woo asked.
“Yup. Let’s head in.”
Woong-deok replied, brushing off any concerns as he led Si-woo into the campus.
After a long walk, they arrived at a building with a banner reading ‘Park Woong-deok’s Special Lecture’. Si-woo frowned.
“Director… are we in the wrong place?”
“What’s wrong?” Woong-deok asked.
“You said you’d introduce someone…”
“I will, don’t worry. This is just part of my schedule,” Woong-deok reassured.
Si-woo shot him a skeptical look but followed him into the lecture hall. Inside, staff were setting up chairs and sound equipment.
“I’ll introduce you after the lecture. Mind being a guest speaker for a bit?” Woong-deok asked.
“Ugh… fine,” Si-woo sighed.
As preparations wrapped up, students filled the hall.
“Hello, I’m Park Woong-deok.”
Ge announced, grabbing the mic. The room erupted in cheers and applause.
‘No wonder. He’s practically unmatched in the film industry.’
Si-woo thought, reminded of Woong-deok’s stature.
“Today, I’ve brought a special guest. Come on out, Writer Kim Si-woo!” Woong-deok called.
Si-woo trudged forward, greeted with enthusiasm rivaling Woong-deok’s.
“Anyone not know this writer?”
Woong-deok asked. A few hands went up, and he grinned at Si-woo.
“You’ve got work to do, Writer Kim. This is the writer of ‘Revenger’ and ‘Don’t Forget’.”
The hall buzzed, students’ gazes shifting with newfound respect.
“Anyway, today’s a chance to hear from both a director and a writer, so pay attention.” Woong-deok said.
“Yes!” the students roared.
Woong-deok’s lecture was concise and engaging, covering what makes a good film, key aspects of production, a director’s mindset, budgeting, and industry anecdotes. Si-woo, listening from the side, found it fascinating. *Why doesn’t he talk like this when we’re drinking? All he does is tease me.*
Two hours flew by, and the lecture neared its end.
“Any questions for our guest, Writer Kim Si-woo?” Woong-deok asked.
Hands shot up.
“You, in the front.”
Woong-deok pointed, passing the mic.
“Hello, I’m Kim Soo-jin, a first-year Korean literature major. Is it true you’ve been writing for less than a year?” she asked.
“Yes, I started early this year.” Si-woo confirmed.
The room murmured at his prodigious talent.
“Any tips for writing?” Soo-jin pressed.
“Tips…”
Si-woo paused.
“Read a lot, write a lot. I’ve been luckier than most, which put me ahead, but last year, I was a jobless nobody wasting time on web novels, movies, dramas, and YouTube. Compared to you all working hard, I’m not sure I’m qualified to give advice. Maybe encouragement instead: if a shut-in like me can make it, you can too. Believe you’ll outdo me. Oh, and in this industry, skill is everything from the moment you step in.”
More questions followed before Woong-deok took the mic again.
“That’s it for today. Oh, and Writer Kim Si-woo is starting a YouTube project. He’s looking for actors and staff, so if you think you’ve got talent or are interested, stay after.”
“What?”
Si-woo blurted, caught off guard. This was Woong-deok’s introduction?
“Look at this crowd. Pick wisely, Writer Kim.” Woong-deok teased.
“Director…” Si-woo groaned.
“I’ll help with interviews, so don’t glare at me like that.”
The hall was packed with students who stayed. Interviewing each one thoroughly would keep Si-woo there until tomorrow.
“There’s so many…” he muttered.
“Maybe because they’re still green?” Woong-deok suggested, looking slightly flustered himself.
“Everyone, I’m not involved. This is Writer Kim’s YouTube project.”
Woong-deok clarified, trying to thin the crowd, but the students didn’t budge.
“This is a problem.” Woong-deok admitted.
“You said directors take responsibility,” Si-woo shot back.
“Ahem… I’m not directing now. Call me Uncle Woong-deok.”
Si-woo’s fist clenched, but the interviews moved quickly. They consisted of simple introductions—name, age, experience, and desired role—to sort through the applicants.
Seoul Arts University lived up to its reputation, teeming with talent from various fields. Some applicants had experience as extras, others as set interns, and a few were already working as YouTube editors. Their resumes were surprisingly impressive.
“Writer Kim, this isn’t working…”
Park Woong-deok muttered, standing to make a call.
“Hey, Professor Kim. It’s Woong-deok. Busy? You’re not? Then come to the lecture hall now. Bring your TA too. Don’t ask why—just hurry, it’s urgent!”
He hung up, wiping sweat from his brow before returning to his seat.
“Any good actors catching your eye?” he asked Si-woo.
“Actors are easier to judge—voice, looks, speech, walk, vibe give me a sense. Watching them act takes longer, but it’s manageable.” Si-woo replied.
“Staff, though? That’s the real struggle.”
Si-woo focused on actors, while Woong-deok handled staff, but the applicant pool skewed heavily toward actors.
“Passion alone won’t cut it. Tough to choose.” Woong-deok grumbled.
“Hang in there—help’s coming soon.”
“Help?” Si-woo asked.
Sure enough, a middle-aged man arrived with a young female student in tow.
“Woong-deok, I thought you were giving a lecture. What’s this?” the man demanded.
“Haha, good to see you, Professor Kim. My friend here needs some people,” Woong-deok explained.
“You could’ve just asked me instead of this chaos,” Professor Kim retorted.
“Your referrals are all theory nerds like you—useless on set.” Woong-deok shot back.
“What?” Professor Kim bristled.
“Just help with interviews. You know the students better than anyone,” Woong-deok urged.
With no choice, Professor Kim Woo-soo sat beside Woong-deok, making room.
“TA Lee.” he called.
“Yes, Professor,” the young woman replied.
“Send half the applicants to me and head back to the lab.”
“Understood,” she said.
After five grueling hours, the interviews wrapped up—shortened by students leaving for other commitments or giving up from exhaustion. It was past 6 p.m.
“Finally done… I’m starving,” Si-woo groaned.
“Woong-deok, you…”
Kim Woo-soo started, ready to scold, but Woong-deok cut him off.
“Let’s introduce ourselves. This is Kim Si-woo, the 10-million-view writer. And this is my friend, Professor Kim Woo-soo, an academic specializing in theory over practice,” Woong-deok said.
“Nice to meet you. Sorry for the hassle Woong-deok’s put you through.” Kim Woo-soo said.
“Thank you for understanding,” Si-woo replied.
The two bonded over their shared suffering at Woong-deok’s hands.
“Enough of that, let’s eat. My treat tonight. Invite your TA too—TA life’s the hardest, right?” Woong-deok said.
“Alright, I’ll stop by the lab first. Text me the address.” Kim Woo-soo replied.
Si-woo and Woong-deok, carrying stacks of applicant profiles, headed to a nearby Japanese restaurant.
“With this many applicants, you’d think we’re starting a film studio.” Woong-deok remarked.
“Right?” Si-woo agreed.
“Might as well go big,” Woong-deok encouraged.
“Planning to. I’ve already declared war,” Si-woo said.
Woong-deok nodded as they arrived and ordered an eight-person sushi set, waiting for Kim Woo-soo and his TA. Soon, they arrived, and the group chatted over food.
“YouTube, huh? I wouldn’t recommend it, but it’s a great opportunity for our students.” Kim Woo-soo said.
“It’s kind of for my own satisfaction,” Si-woo admitted.
Kim Woo-soo noted that geniuses often act for self-fulfillment, but Si-woo waved it off.
“I’m just a bit smart, not a genius.”
“A debut with two 10-million films? If you’re not a genius, the film industry’s full of idiots.” Kim Woo-soo teased.
“Haha, you’re too kind.” Si-woo laughed.
During the meal, Si-woo kept catching the TA’s gaze.
‘What’s with her? Does she have something to say?’
Her intense look unsettled him.
***
The next day, Si-woo sifted through the applicant profiles in his room.
“These are all students… better pick fourth-years for staff since they’re graduating soon.”
He recalled standout actor hopefuls. The staff applicants, however, were mostly marked with X’s by Woong-deok and Kim Woo-soo.
“Lighting, sound, editing—those are fine as is. But no one for director or CP?”
Si-woo had no interest in directing or producing for YouTube; he just wanted to write scripts.
“It’ll work out somehow,” he shrugged.
His YouTube team, composed of Seoul Arts University students, was finalized: 15 members, including actors. It was a large crew for a start, but small for Si-woo’s ambitions.
“I’ll expand as needed. Time to stir things up.”
With a sly grin unlike his usual self, Si-woo launched his YouTube channel: <Revenge Film>.