Chapter 66: Genius Writer vs. Genius Actor (4)
Once the movie began, the atmosphere was entirely different from The King Has Changed.
Unlike The King Has Changed, which was rated 15+ and light in tone, Gangster Detective was rated R, featuring explicit crime and action.
Though the early scenes drew laughs with Choi Hyun, his gang subordinates, and fellow police officers, the tone gradually darkened, tightening the audience’s breathing.
The reason was simple:
Park Jun-ho’s performance.
Even on a movie screen, his eerie eyes made the viewers feel as though the man truly existed—an unsettling realism that made the film terrifying.
One person died, then another, and another.
With each kill, Jun-ho’s portrayal of Park Ki-chul grew more ruined, more terrifying.
Even when he was finally beaten and arrested by Choi Hyun at the climax, Park Ki-chul never stopped smiling.
While being punched, while being dragged to jail, even as police shoved him into a holding cell—
He kept grinning, as if ridiculing everyone watching him.
When the movie ended, people stood up, but Kim Si-woo remained seated.
He was waiting for the post-credit scene.
After all the credits rolled, a short bonus scene appeared—one not shown at premieres, filmed only with a small crew and known only to those on set and Si-woo himself.
The scene opened with a heavily aged Park Ki-chul sitting in a prison cell, makeup making him look decades older. Director Kim Dong-soo’s voice could be heard off-camera.
“You killed multiple people and are now imprisoned for life. Do you regret it?”
Park Ki-chul slowly lifted his head.
“Regret?”
His voice was quiet, and yet it silenced the entire noisy theater.
“I regret it… that I couldn’t kill more… sooner.”
His tone and deadened eyes silenced even the people leaving the theater lobby.
Then he continued:
“You know what? You’re all just like me. You pretend you’re different, but one day… you’ll be just like me.”
With that curse-like line, the film truly ended. No one spoke.
Everyone stared blankly at the screen.
Lee Hae-soo finally broke the silence.
“Si-woo… is this really okay?”
“Was it bad?”
“It was good. Very good… but how should I say it… it makes you think too much.”
Hae-soo, who had handled countless criminal cases as a lawyer, couldn’t help empathizing with Ki-chul’s words, leaving her with complex feelings as they exited the theater.
“The movie is over, but his face and voice keep replaying in my head…”
“That’s how hard Park Jun-ho worked.”
After watching both films back to back and stepping outside, it was already dinner time.
“It’s already evening.”
“Yeah, time flies.”
“So, Hae-soo… who do you think will win?”
“Well… honestly, both films have strong points. If we’re talking about something easy to enjoy, The King Has Changed is lighter. But if we’re talking about what sticks in your mind… Gangster Detective, definitely.”
In the end, Choi Hyun’s film had accidentally become Park Jun-ho’s film.
Si-woo nodded at her thoughts. He fully understood her reaction.
“And that post-credit scene—I didn’t see it in the script when I handled the copyright registration. What happened there?”
“Oh, that? Jun-ho suddenly suggested it.”
“I see. That makes sense.”
After dinner, they parted ways, and Si-woo went home.
Every day, he checked online for box office results.
Gangster Detective and The King Has Changed were neck-and-neck, constantly Trending #1.
However, there was one thing Kim Si-woo hadn’t taken into consideration…
Korea had far more families and teenagers than he realized.
When two movies both had high ratings, it was obvious which one families would choose between an R-rated film and a teen-friendly one.
Even so, despite being rated R, Gangster Detective continued to compete neck-and-neck with The King Has Changed, showing overwhelming popularity.
Park Jun-ho’s popularity skyrocketed as well, and Kim Si-woo gained a new nickname:
The Star Maker.
Rumors spread saying, “Any actor he picks becomes a top star,” and Si-woo’s fame as a writer grew even more.
Time passed, and the final day of the movie’s run arrived.
***
“Jun-ho, do you have anything in mind for your next project?”
Si-woo asked as he visited Jun-ho’s home to celebrate the end of the movie’s run—and to offer early casting.
“Huh? Already?”
“Not right away, but I should be preparing something in about six months. The next one will be a lighter role, so I’ll show you the script when it’s ready.”
“I’m in. Definitely.”
Jun-ho didn’t even hesitate or say he’d think about it—he agreed on the spot.
“Anyway, today’s the day. It was a long fight.”
“Seriously. Choi Do-hyun was better than I expected.”
“And that face of his didn’t hurt either.”
Choi Do-hyun wasn’t just a good actor—he was incredibly handsome. His fanbase was overwhelmingly made up of women. There were fans on his fan café who watched the movie more than five times just to make sure he didn’t lose to Si-woo.
“Writer Kim! What about me? Can I be in your next project too?”
“Oh… hmm… I can give you a cameo.”
Ha Seung-woo, who overheard the conversation, begged to be included as well. Si-woo eventually compromised with a cameo role.
Despite Jun-ho stealing the spotlight, Seung-woo’s popularity still rose significantly from the film—his fan club became active again, and the media praised his improved acting.
“Aww come on, don’t do me like that. Please at least consider me.”
Seung-woo poured him expensive whiskey.
“If I find a role that suits you, I’ll call you.”
“Haha, thank you.”
The four—Si-woo, Jun-ho, Seung-woo, and Jun-ho’s manager—drank together while waiting for the real-time box office results.
At the exact moment the final screening ended, Si-woo called Director Kim Dong-soo for the final numbers.
“Yes… I understand. Thank you for your hard work.”
Once he hung up, the others stared at him, waiting anxiously for the results.
“We… are short by 1,300 viewers.”
According to Director Kim, Gangster Detective lost by just 1,300 audience members.
“…”
“Haah…”
The mood collapsed. Silence and sighs filled the room as they downed their drinks.
Revenue-wise, Gangster Detective had earned more money.
But viewer count, the number everyone was comparing, put The King Has Changed in the lead.
The reason was simple:
Teenage audiences.
Still, hitting 12 million viewers was a tremendous achievement, so they decided to celebrate modestly and move on with their lives…
Until Choi Do-hyun opened his mouth again.
***
“How does it feel? Just like I said, right? And what’s this about someone being rushed to the hospital during filming? Real actors win with acting, not with cheap publicity…”
During an interview on a TV show, he boasted that he had beaten Kim Si-woo, Ha Seung-woo, and Park Jun-ho.
Normally, that wouldn’t have bothered them much—it was true that his film won in audience numbers. And movies aren’t made by one person, so they didn’t even feel like they had “lost” to him…
But then—
However, mocking Park Jun-ho was crossing the line.
Everyone—Si-woo, the actors, the staff—knew how hard Jun-ho had worked, and they were furious.
“That bastard…”
Si-woo in particular felt a sting of guilt in his chest, and hearing some stranger like Choi Do-hyun speak carelessly made him extremely irritated.
There was an old saying in Laozi’s Tao Te Ching:
“When someone harms you, do not seek revenge. Sit quietly by the river and watch the water flow. In time, his corpse will float by.”
Just like that, the more Choi Do-hyun indulged in arrogance, the more people despised him. Word traveled fast in the film industry, and rumors always became exaggerated.
The uncomfortable behavior he had shown on set spread rapidly through staff gossip.
Before Si-woo could even do anything, Choi Do-hyun had already made countless enemies. From now on, it would be difficult for him to meet good staff, good directors, or good projects.
Sure, a director desperate for money might still cast him. But such a set would never have a pleasant atmosphere. And that negative cycle would only produce more bad rumors.
The most important part was simple:
Si-woo didn’t intend to avoid paying back the hit.
He had lost, and that was fine—but returning what he owed was a separate matter.
***
While Si-woo was drowning in film work, Jung Se-yeon released her new song, and it instantly topped the charts.
The surprising part?
It wasn’t even the title track.
The song’s title was “Man of October.”
Since Si-woo’s birthday is in October, rumors exploded online that every famous male celebrity born in October was secretly Jung Se-yeon’s boyfriend.
Meanwhile, the real “October man” was just at home frantically working on scripts.
He only remembered the song when staff at Si-woo Film played it in the office. Hearing her voice from the speakers suddenly reminded him:
The song written for him was already released.
“This is the new track?”
“Yep! It’s number one right now. Jung Se-yeon’s new song.”
“Is it the title track?”
“No, it’s just a B-side. But it’s more popular than the title track.”
Si-woo suddenly felt uneasy.
“No way… right?”
He rushed into his office and looked it up online. There were dozens of articles speculating about her hidden lover, but fortunately, his name wasn’t on the list.
“Let’s at least listen to it first.”
He searched YouTube, hit play, and immediately realized it was unmistakably about him.
Traits like being bad at saying no, getting dragged around by others, yet having firm principles—she had turned their shared memories into lyrics.
“First thing… I need to call her.”
He quickly dialed Jung Se-yeon. She picked up instantly, as if waiting.
— “Hmm… you called quickly.”
“Sorry. I’ve been swamped with film stuff… Congratulations on the number one song.”
— “Whatever. I get it. So, are you okay?”
Her tone was curt, but she had been worried about him because of the Choi Do-hyun situation.
“Well… I guess. If I wrote a better script, the actors wouldn’t be getting dragged into this…”
— “Choi Do-hyun is the weird one. You just had three straight films break 10 million. And your drama is the highest-rated in its time slot. Do you know how many films fail every year? Stop blaming yourself. Go take a walk. And call people while you’re at it!”
Getting scolded made Si-woo laugh.
— “And trust me, guys like him don’t last. Who likes someone who constantly tears others down? Staff are people too.”
“Thanks.”
— “Good. So, what’re you doing next weekend?”
“Nothing, really.”
— “Then come out. Let’s drink. I’ll call Ji-young too.”
“Alright… but am I really that bad at refusing people? Am I indecisive?”
— “Haha. Artistic license.”
After the call, Si-woo kept listening to “Man of October.”
“Good song…”
Maybe it sounded better because it was written for him.
While Se-yeon’s voice flowed into his ears on repeat, Si-woo’s own plan began steadily moving forward.