Chapter 52: Division (2)
“Filming team!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Grab the camera—shoot this now.”
Si-woo barked, slipping into informal speech from sheer excitement.
“Y-Yes, sir!”
The team scrambled, hauling out a 70-million-won cinema-grade camera. Its footage was razor-sharp—the YouTuber’s rampage looked like a movie scene.
Until the police arrived.
“Filming done? 112 called?” Si-woo asked.
Yoo-jin nodded. “Yes.”
“Good. Let’s go down.”
“W-Writer-nim?!”
Everyone stared, silently screaming don’t go.
“You’re all making ‘don’t go’ faces, right?”
“Yes…”
“Fine. We’ll wait for the cops.”
Thanks to Yoo-jin’s frantic call, police arrived in under five minutes.
“Hey! Get down now!”
An officer shouted at the YouTuber leaping on the car.
THUD! THUD!
The roof crumpled further with each jump.
“Stop or I’ll tase you!”
No response.
“Kim Sun-kyung, prep the taser!”
“Taser! Taser! Taser!”
PSSHHT.
The ex-gangster YouTuber collapsed. Backup swarmed, cuffing him.
Kim Sun-kyung grimaced.
“Sir… he reeks of alcohol.”
“Drunk?”
“Definitely.”
“Take him in. Contact the owner.”
Sun-kyung spotted the emergency contact on the windshield and dialed—just as Si-woo and the team stepped out.
“Hello, I’m the owner.”
“XX Precinct, Officer Kim Sung-woo. We need a statement if you want to press charges.”
“Got it. Can I grab some things first?”
“Come to the precinct when ready.”
Back upstairs, Si-woo addressed the team:
“Editing team—upload the raw footage now. Anyone volunteering as a witness?”
“I’ll go.” Yoo-jin raised her hand. “I made the call.”
“Good. While we’re at the station, prep the next shoot.”
***
In the taxi to the precinct, Si-woo called Lee Hae-soo.
“Hello, Attorney Lee.”
— “Writer-nim, another script?”
“No—a Chocolate Entertainment YouTuber just smashed my car on camera. Drunk. Perfect evidence. Can you handle it?”
A long pause.
— “…You’re terrifying.”*
Si-woo grinned.
‘This is going to be fun.’
“No… it’s a different case today.”
— “What? You blocked comments—no hate, right?”
“Not hate. Threats and property damage.”
— “WHAT?! Are you hurt?!” Hae-soo’s voice shot up in panic.
“I’m fine. I was inside watching.”
Si-woo reassured, then explained:
A few YouTubers, believing they were targeted, posted threats. One actually showed up and smashed his car.
Hae-soo sounded like she was already grabbing her keys.
— “Phew… I’m on my way. Text me the precinct.”
“Thanks, Attorney Lee.”
He sent the location.
‘This might end faster than I thought.’
***
At the precinct, Si-woo met Officer Kim Sung-woo, who was smoking outside.
“You’re here. This way.”
The process was simple—statement.
Hae-soo arrived and wrote it flawlessly, logical and airtight.
“Here’s the evidence.”
Si-woo said, handing over a USB with the threat video and the car-smashing footage.
“No settlement.”
“Thank you. Evidence goes to detectives. They’ll handle the rest.”
Outside, Hae-soo swayed, tension draining.
“You okay?”
“Just… dizzy. Ran here too fast.”
“You skip meals again. Let’s eat.”
***
While they ate, the video exploded.
50,000 views in minutes.
Gangster-YouTuber defenders vanished. The internet turned on them.
Wrecker channels spread it. Evening news picked it up.
> [Criminal Ent = Chocolate Ent]
> ↳ã…‹ã…‹ How many gone already?
> ↳Gangster class~
> ↳Kim Si-woo must have a grudge against Chocolate.
> ↳Grudge or justice?
> ↳He jumped into the fire himself ã…‹ã…‹
> ↳Kim Si-woo’s education = approved.
> ↳Next episode—who’s next?
Communities mocked Chocolate Ent and its YouTubers. Si-woo was hailed.
***
Chocolate Entertainment: Emergency Mode
“THAT IDIOT! Why go to the office?!”
They knew YouTubers were going into hiding, but this was too big.
“Why does Kim Si-woo keep targeting us? And why can’t we sue?!”
“It’s… not direct targeting. Hard to prove defamation.”
“THEN IGNORE IT!”
“Can’t. Fans are bombing comments. Closing them looks guilty. Explaining looks worse.”
No solution. The CEO slammed the desk.
BAM!
“Set a meeting with Kim Si-woo. I need to hear it from him.”
“Yes, sir.”
***
The car-smasher’s arrest triggered a domino effect.
Other threat-posters scrambled, deleting videos—too late.
Hae-soo had already preserved everything.
Days later, Si-woo’s phone buzzed nonstop:
> “It was a joke!”
> “Just for engagement!”
> “I’m reformed!”
> “Sorry, please drop charges.”
> “How much for settlement?”
He ignored every one.
‘Punishment, not money.’
Their rap sheets: assault, DUI hit-and-run, organized crime, fraud, voice phishing, drugs.
‘How are they even streaming?’
Worse than school-bully scandals, in his eyes.
The lawsuits marched forward.
Then—one text stood out:
From: Chocolate Entertainment
[From: Chocolate Ent Secretary Lee Hong-jun]
Can we set a meeting?
‘Hook, line, and sinker.’
Si-woo replied the next day:
[Tomorrow, 12:30 PM. XX Japanese Restaurant.]
BZZT.
Reply in 30 seconds:
[Understood.]
***
He gathered the <Revenge Film> team.
“Skip script 4. Jump to 7. But first—one video.”
“What kind?” someone asked.
“An apology.”
The room froze.
“You’re apologizing?!” Yoo-jin snapped.
“He wrecked your car!”
“That’s the point,” Si-woo said. “When the victim apologizes, people defend the victim. Harder.”
He wanted to weaponize sympathy.
If a random assault victim says “I shouldn’t have walked there,” 9 out of 10 condemn the attacker more. Same logic.
“Roll it. Cue!”
He bowed, voice heavy:
“Hello, I’m Kim Si-woo, writer and CEO of <Revenge Film>. I’m sorry for worrying subscribers. I’ll be more careful. And <Revenge Film> will…”
Filming ended. His somber face vanished.
“How’d I do?”
“…Too good,” Yoo-jin muttered.
“Hold it. Don’t upload yet.”
***
Next day. XX Japanese Restaurant.
Si-woo arrived on time.
Two pairs of shoes already waited.
Slide.
Two men stood.
“Kim Si-woo.”
“Park Dae-kyu, CEO of Chocolate Entertainment. This is Secretary Lee Hong-jun.”
Handshakes. Seats.
“So—what’s this about?” Si-woo cut in.
“Haha, young blood. Impatient. Let’s eat first,” Park smiled.
“You’re paying?”
“Of course. I’m the rich one. Order anything.”
Si-woo ordered premium tuna sashimi. The table groaned under the spread.
“Dig in.”
One piece. Two. Three.
Then Park spoke: “How far are you planning to go?”
“No idea.”
“Tell me why. If it’s in my power, I’ll fix it.”
Park wanted a deal.
The hiding YouTubers earned millions. Revenue was tanking. Cleanup for the car-smasher cost a fortune.
Better to buy Si-woo off than lose more stars.
But Si-woo’s answer wasn’t for sale.
“Then clean house.”
“Clean… house?”
“If all the problem YouTubers vanish, I can post whatever. Right?”
“But… contracts, image, finances… a mass purge would cripple us.”
Park downed sake in frustration.
Si-woo leaned in, voice low:
“Then how about this: You know Choi Dae-ho?”