Chapter 166

The employees who were about to be transferred to Drama Department 2 were, frankly, in a state of utter shock.

After all, when the first episode garnered only a mere 6% viewership, everyone had thought it would be the end.

“6%? That’s it, it’s over.”

“Honestly, the setting alone is hard to grasp…”

“I heard this was originally a script intended for a smaller channel. Fits perfectly, doesn’t it?”

At the time of the first episode’s airing, everyone was laughing and casually exchanging such remarks.

After all, it was only 6%.

Most shows don’t usually move far from their first-episode ratings.

An awkwardly middling figure. Not too high, not too low.

And just from the premise, it was a rather peculiar drama.

For a creator, the most important thing to be wary of is unfamiliarity.

Even the most incredible works need to cater their settings and content to the preferences of the audience.

This, however, seemed to disregard the audience entirely.

Having come to such a conclusion, they proceeded to watch the second episode.

“…Why is this entertaining?”

“Something feels a bit… off.”

The content of the second episode revolved around Min-seo and Yoo-joo.

Min-seo, as they called it, was the “underachieving child” in her parents’ eyes.

A girl whose academic performance wasn’t up to par compared to her brother.

But, to the parents, the difference was like a chasm a thousand feet wide.

“I know parents love me, but I’m just the cute daughter, that’s all.”

Min-seo subtly mentioned to Yoo-joo.

Truthfully, Min-seo couldn’t fully grasp why she had to befriend Yoo-joo.

It wasn’t for her own benefit—it was for her older brother, Min-hyeok.

And she had her grievances about that.

“Being cute and well-behaved, what’s the difference between me and a pet dog?”

It wasn’t said with any intention of befriending Yoo-joo.

Min-seo muttered to herself because Yoo-joo barely gave any response regardless of what was said.

“I know they don’t expect anything from me. They gave up on me a long time ago, so they leave me be.”

Likely, her brother Min-hyeok was unaware of this fact.

He probably thought that the parents were simply more indulgent with their daughter.

But Min-seo understood.

People can only be indulgent when they don’t expect anything from someone.

Not everyone, certainly, but her parents were definitely like this.

“I don’t know anymore~”

Knowing fully well Yoo-joo wouldn’t respond to anything she said, Min-seo bit into the bread she had bought from the cafeteria and said as much.

“Such a grand declaration, and yet, she’s so quiet.”

At school, Yoo-joo was rather ordinary, didn’t talk much, and spent most of her time sitting quietly.

Yet, at the same time, she excelled at everything, naturally drawing some attention even without trying.

Given how she spoke on the first day, it was strangely quiet now, almost as if she were observing something.

“Decided.”

Then, unexpectedly, Yoo-joo spoke up.

“Decided?” Min-seo questioned silently, turning her attention from the bitten bread to Yoo-joo with a puzzled look.

“You.”

“Wh-wh-what are you talking about?”

“Your twin brother – don’t you want to beat him?”

Yoo-joo whispered softly, leaning closer to Min-seo’s face, contradicting her otherwise still demeanor.

“I’ll make it happen.”

Mesmerized, Min-seo looked at Yoo-joo.

There was an atmosphere, as if the world around them had disappeared, a magnetic presence that made it feel like they were the only two people left.

“Err, uh-huh.”

“However.”

Raising her index finger, Yoo-joo whispered into Min-seo’s ear.

“You have to fully trust me.”

A whisper so alluring, it resembled a demon’s tempting allure.

“Entirely. Completely.”

Min-seo, stunned, could do nothing but nod.

And that concluded the second episode of *Sky Garden*.

From the viewpoint of adults and the perspective of the children, their hopes and entanglements wove a fascinating narrative.

“That’s… curious.”

An employee who had been assigned to Drama Department 2 commented after watching the scene.

“Honestly, when you break it down, none of it makes sense…”

“But it’s oddly engaging anyway.”

“Still, not really my cup of tea, though.”

As they exchanged those thoughts, the door abruptly swung open, startling everyone as they turned their attention to the newcomer.

Baek Tae-soo.

The man destined to become the king of Drama Department 2.

Calmly surveying the room, he asked:

“Have you watched *Sky Garden*?”

That was all he said.

At his words, several directors and employees exchanged glances before responding.

“We have, but to be honest, we don’t fully get it.”

“Just… somewhat watchable.”

“It has a unique feel. Definitely something you don’t usually see on broadcast channels.”

“Romance elements seem to be completely absent.”

At their answers, PD Baek Tae-soo remained silent as if deep in thought.

Seeing this,

“You don’t need to worry too much, really. Frankly, it’s not a very audience-friendly drama. It doesn’t explain anything properly.”

“Yes, and honestly, even though the second episode hit 10%, we’re still doing better.”

PD Baek Tae-soo’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Almost as if asking, “Is that genuinely what you think?”

Under that gaze, the employee, who had been nervously smiling, froze stiff.

‘Is…is he angry?’

Just as this thought crossed his mind, PD Baek’s lips parted.

“There’s no explanation needed.”

“Huh?”

“If you explain, the audience ends up having to think.”

PD Baek revised his evaluation of Min Se-hee, the writer behind *Sky Garden*, who had previously been known for salvaging the plot of *Dream Future*.

At that time, he had found her work decent, but now he saw more depth.

“Rather than wasting time explaining, it moves swiftly straight to the core. Once you’ve thought ‘*Huh? What*,’ it’s already over.”

And it wasn’t just about being stimulating for stimulation’s sake—far from it.

Any setting that could be vague was left as is, speeding ahead faster than the audience could question the plausibility.

Looking back, one might think, “Frankly, that doesn’t make sense,” but while watching the drama, such thoughts don’t arise.

Of course, there will be some who think it’s a mismatch—perhaps even intensely so.

But in the opinion of the drama writer, this group was the minority.

It pulls the majority of audiences along.

That was the presentation style of *Sky Garden*.

Whether that was deliberate or not, he wasn’t entirely sure.

“That’s immersion. The drama manages to keep them captivated, mindlessly engrossed, which translates directly to entertainment. So, in essence, *Sky Garden* is simply an entertaining drama.”

At PD Baek’s words, everyone was momentarily speechless.

Then,

“Still, it’s the same for us, though.”

PD Baek smiled lightly.

Those who had tensed, fearing he was upset, finally relaxed.

“We’ll dominate once more with episode three. That’s my guarantee.”

Saying this, he walked back to his seat but hardened his expression as soon as he was out of their sight.

‘Yeah, so far, we’re ahead.’

Of course, it was only natural they should be.

After all, the difference lay in the genres.

Genres inherently have their own characteristics.

The *Grand Game*, which PD Baek was currently handling, was smoothly sailing.

From PD Baek’s perspective, this drama would continue to progress without hindrance at least up until episode six.

The issue started thereafter.

The script from episode six onward.

The point where romance elements would start to become prominent.

A small frown appeared on his face.

After all, he was also a broadcaster’s PD.

***

“Our girl has given us some peace of mind.”

Sua glanced at her younger sister Suyeon playing with Seoyeon.

Though the drama’s first episode hadn’t gone well, Seoyeon seemed to be in high spirits.

If anything, she appeared happier than usual.

‘Could she secretly want this project to fail?’

She thought as much, but naturally, that wasn’t a possibility.

Seoyeon seemed to have that much faith in her own drama.

Even at a moment when others were panicking, she had remained calm.

“She does resemble her father in some ways, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, her father…”

Seoyeon’s face soured slightly, as if implying that such a comparison with her father was unacceptable.

Sua smiled lightly at her daughter’s reaction.

“Even though Dad can act casual, he does make decisions when the time comes.”

“Is he like that? I’m not really sure.”

To Seoyeon, Young-bin appeared light-hearted.

He seemed to share similar traits with his contemporaries.

It even felt as though his mentality had paused somewhere in his late teens or early twenties.

“Every creator, as part of their craft, needs to keep their thoughts youthful. …Me too.”

Sua painted pictures.

Though now more as a hobby, she used to put a lot of effort into it back in high school.

Whether as an illustrator, game designer, novelist, or singer—ultimately, one needed to stay young.

When the mind ages, it’s time to retire.

“That’s what Dad always says.”

“Does he?”

“As a mantra. He insists you need to stay young.”

To keep that youthful mindset alive, he engaged with modern games and various activities.

Because as you grow older, your thoughts age faster than your body, in the blink of an eye.

“Your dad was a person who never worried about anything originally.”

Sua looked at Seoyeon, recalling her first meeting with Young-bin.

“But with age, he gained hesitation. It seems like he’s wrestling with something these days.”

“Hesitating about what?”

Sua laughed at Seoyeon’s genuinely disbelieving expression.

“Probably about the position of game director. That’s likely what’s been on his mind.”

“Shouldn’t he just take it if it’s good?”

“No, your dad has always wanted something else. He’s had dreams since the old days.”

Not the corporate game director role—he’d always dreamt of making his own game.

In plain terms, he’d always wished to break away and go independent.

“Now, there’s family, though.”

“…Right.”

“There have been talks for a while now. The company wants to plan a major project together.”

Sua gazed at her silent daughter for a moment.

“That’s why, this time, I think the character Yoo-joo, played by Seoyeon, is a rather sad child.”

The role of Yoo-joo in *Sky Garden*—a child who solely moves according to her parents’ will.

She didn’t want to move, yet unknowingly followed her parents’ will.

Yoo-joo’s father wanted to prove his ability as her entrance counselor through her.

Yoo-joo herself already despised that.

“However, she had no choice but to use that ability.”

Yoo-joo’s purpose was ultimately the same as her father’s.

To prove her own ability so as to build meaningful connections.

And to climb higher, leveraging those connections.

To transcend the barriers created by privilege and reach beyond them.

But, ultimately, that was the wish of her father as well.

Yoo-joo had only ever known the way upward.

She didn’t know how to see anything else.

“Indeed, she’s a sad child,” Sua said.

“…Undoubtedly.”

Hearing her mother’s words, Seoyeon realized.

Until now, Yoo-joo, as portrayed by Seoyeon, was a girl earnestly striving toward her dream.

And Seoyeon had acted accordingly.

But, thinking about it, Yoo-joo didn’t have dreams of her own.

Ultimately, her aim to rise higher stemmed from the knowledge and education instilled in her by her father.

The world revolved around money, power, and prestige.

Yoo-joo desired to possess all these.

She didn’t wish to live her father’s life.

That came about because, in her small world, she only saw these.

Yoo-joo may think these decisions were her own,

But were they truly all hers?

“Seoyeon.”

Sua smiled, noticing Seoyeon deep in thought.

“Why did you want to become an actress?”

Sua’s question seemed to be addressing Seoyeon’s struggle with the character Yoo-joo.

“Weren’t you originally interested in doing something else?”

Seoyeon froze, unsure how to answer.

And just at that moment,

“Mama!”

Su-yeon, in Seoyeon’s arms, broke into a cheerful smile.

“When will Papa come home today?”

The youngest sister loved her father dearly, looking forward to the hour when he would return every day.

“Papa said he has an appointment today.”

“Appointment~?”

“That’s right, with a friend.”

“Is that so? So even Papa has friends.”

Innocent Su-yeon’s words brought an unexpected smile to Seoyeon’s face.

Her words reminded Seoyeon of something familiar she’d often heard herself.

“That’s right. High school friends.”

Friends they used to meet frequently, but not so much since becoming adults.

Today, Young-bin would meet one such friend.

***

“Wow, what’s this? Formalwear?”

Young-bin spoke as he stepped into the arranged bar.

Inside, a sharp-dressed man sat, exuding refinement through his tailored suit and sharp glasses.

His calculated gaze ran up and down Young-bin as though inspecting a piece of merchandise.

“You dress like that to go to work?”

“Not my style, but how do we wear formal suits if we can’t afford them? What’s with the watch? Must’ve cost a fortune.”

“Two million.”

“Are you kidding me? That’s outrageous. You’re buying the meat tonight then.”

Young-bin said this confidently, already planning to eat all the meat available as he flipped the menu.

“By the way…”

He suddenly remembered something.

“About *Hyper Action Star*…”

“Hm?”

“I heard it was planned by the executive of GH Group, through what Seoyeon told me.”

“Right.”

“Turns out I just found out about it recently.”

Young-bin chuckled at his seemingly indifferent answer.

“Wait, when did you get promoted?”

At that,

“It’s my father’s company.”

The GH Group’s cultural affairs director, Kang Tae-jin, sitting across from him, smirked lightly.

---