To put it plainly, the news came as a bolt from the blue for Narumi Sora.
Originally, she had no agency representation.
But after Hyper Action Star, Sora finally managed to join a proper agency and was quite content with her current life. Sora belonged to “Lime Actors,” a management company that fell into the second tier but put more emphasis on nurturing actors.
Therefore, there were many actors around, and much to learn.
“Sora, your pronunciation is really good. I didn’t even realize you were Japanese until you mentioned your name.”
“R-really?”
Sora had always been good at Korean. She had studied diligently while living in Japan and moved to Korea right after graduating from high school. At 19, she was proud of how hard she had worked up to this point.
“Actually, I do pretty well with most things.”
There aren’t many Japanese actors active in Korea. There was one in the past, but as far as I remember, they didn’t last long.
Most Japanese people in showbiz here are idols. Hence, assuming their pronunciation is awkward might be reasonable.
“Most of them have a concept that aligns with that.”
There’s always an image the public expects, and that’s no different for Japanese idols. Fans seem to find it cuter when foreign idols slightly mispronounce words.
Or they might find it endearing.
On the contrary, sounding too fluent can sometimes backfire.
Because by letting go of that easily recognized concept, you might lose something that appeals to the general public.
“But that’s a story for idols.”
The case is different for actors. If an actor is responsible for delivering lines but mumbles poorly, that could be a serious problem. They wouldn’t stand a chance in movies or dramas.
“Considering this, I think it’d be wise to keep an eye out for other works besides Mine. I’ll let our agency head know.”
“Ah, thank you!”
At the senior actor’s suggestion, Sora bowed her head gratefully.
“Works, works,” Sora mused silently.
In reality, there are differences depending on the agency, but actors in Korea earn significantly more than in Japan. On average, almost four times as much.
So it was only natural that Sora felt good about her prospects. Since she’d play a leading role in Mine, her recognition would undoubtedly grow.
“No, no, that’s not right.”
After all, nothing solid was set in motion yet. Whatever happens, Mine first needed to succeed for things to really start moving for Sora.
For her, Mine was incredibly important. It had to succeed—no exceptions.
Because Sora was aware of this, she was ready for anything. But…
“…So, Japan? Me?”
“Yes.”
The voice on the phone belonged to someone Sora could never forget.
Joo Sooyeon.
The actress who had faced her in the final episode of Hyper Action Star. Her physical abilities were impressive, but her acting skill was on an entirely different level from Sora’s.
Though younger, she was an unquestionably senior actor, with a vast gap between them, even considering Sora’s theater experience in Japan.
After Hyper Action Star, they exchanged numbers and occasionally kept in touch.
“You should definitely get close to Joo Sooyeon.”
“Is that so?”
“There aren’t many actors who’ve had this much impact in just one year. Regardless of her age, this year was the year of Joo Sooyeon.”
How many actors can claim to have turned an entire year into their own right from their debut? Joo Sooyeon was one of those rare few.
Naturally, everyone—agents, seniors, and other actors alike—advised Sora to build a relationship with Sooyeon. Networking mattered, and if Sooyeon became a top actor, she could open many doors for Sora too.
“…Japan, though…”
Narumi Sora hesitated. Sooyeon’s proposal was undoubtedly a favor.
It seemed she had been invited to appear on a Japanese variety show, and she thought it would look better with Sora joining her.
It was certainly a good offer, but Sora didn’t want to appear on Japanese variety shows!
“Then someone is bound to recognize me.”
Sora had never starred in big productions in Japan, having only been part of minor plays. But that doesn’t mean she didn’t have chances to rise.
“Acting in Japan just doesn’t suit me. It feels too much like child’s play.”
At that tumultuous age.
Sora had been determined to leave for Korea or China—anywhere abroad. As a high school student, she was full of fighting spirit.
Despite her relatively cute looks, Sora had received numerous offers. However, she had long been disillusioned with Japan for not recognizing her action acting skills. What they truly wanted wasn’t an action actress like Sora but a pretty actress.
And thus, she had declined these opportunities.
“Somebody is definitely going to bring this up on the internet.”
Thinking back, Sora had carelessly voiced her dissatisfaction with the industry back then. That’s precisely why she couldn’t bring herself to return to Japan.
“Don’t you want to go?”
Seoyeon’s calm voice came through the phone. With just three simple words, Sora swallowed hard.
“N-n-not at all! Haha.”
And just like that, Sora’s trip to Japan was decided by Seoyeon’s unilateral announcement, without much persuasion.
“With her handling communication, there should be no problems.”
The most important thing when traveling abroad is whether there’s someone who can speak the local language. Having this support can significantly enhance the quality of the trip.
Of course, the network or the agency could always assign a guide if needed. In fact, the Japanese broadcasting station would likely provide an interpreter.
Still, Seoyeon found that arrangement somewhat cumbersome.
“I have to visit Akihabara.”
How awkward would it feel dragging an interpreter around Akihabara, where she plans to sweep up all kinds of merchandise?
“In fact, it’s a bother.”
Ignoring how others perceive her shopping sprees, simply leading a personal trip with an interpreter or a guide creates its own issues. It would be better to be accompanied by a close friend or someone around her own age—like an actor she already knows.
In this context, Narumi Sora was the perfect choice. She speaks Japanese fluently, and with the Mine shoot on the horizon, it was a good opportunity to strengthen their connection.
Seoyeon thought she should make more friends in the acting industry. Although Narumi Sora only communicated with her occasionally through messenger or phone calls, Seoyeon wanted to get closer personally.
She thought Sora might also make a great workout partner.
“Since we’re wrapping up Sky Garden and Gyeongseong Yeong-nyeo isn’t shooting for a while, let’s relax and take a slow-paced trip.”
Park Eun-ha, Seoyeon’s manager, commented kindly. Thanks to Seoyeon diligently attending school, she had accrued enough attendance days.
Taking a two-week break wouldn’t cause any significant problems. The series Sky Garden concluded yesterday after consistently updating the highest ratings and finished with a staggering 34%.
With a final rating of 34%, Sky Garden set a remarkable record and overshadowed even Grand Game, which rebounded to a 15% rating in its closing episodes.
To the extent that Grand Game’s 15% could almost be considered a natural disaster.
“Rather than heading back, staying in Japan for a while might be better.”
Next to her, Jo Seohui, carrying several shopping bags, quipped.
Seohui had agreed to go shopping with Seoyeon and Lee Jiyeon today, keeping their previous promise.
The atmosphere was chaotic these days, too noisy and hectic.
“Frankly, if you’re in an urgent situation, it’d be better to take advantage of this period. But there’s nothing urgent, right?”
Endorsements had been pouring in for a while now, reaching the point where practically every famous brand wanted her endorsement.
The influence of a drama with a 34% viewership was terrifying.
Two brands benefited most from this phenomenon:
[Aids Sales Reaches New Records, Thanks to Sky Garden Effect]
[Joo Seoyeon Furniture Stock Sold Out, Urgent Restocking Required!!]
The chair featured in the drama became so popular that it was virtually impossible to find in stores. Consequently, the search for other chairs increased as well.
For the ailing brand Aids, it was nothing short of a lifeline—or a straight rocket launch into success.
To the point where the CEO personally contacted Seoyeon.
“Ah, dear Joo Seoyeon actress. Thank you for your incredible efforts with our advertisements. If there’s anything you need, say… the gaming chairs from Raywill Games…”
Through The Golden Duckling, Seoyeon’s father, Joo Young-bin, was revealed to be a team leader at Raywill Games, leading to a change in their outdated chairs to Aids brand.
Naturally, this made Young-bin’s status soar even higher.
Similarly, the second big beneficiary was none other than Éclat Étoile.
The brand capitalized on the start of Sky Garden by increasing advertisement frequency and actively promoting their model, Seoyeon.
Still, some issues arose.
“Skin? Thanks to cosmetics, it never gets rough.”
“Remember falling into the river? Of course, you were unscathed. Why? …Could it be because of the cosmetics?”
Initially perceived as lighthearted banter, these comments gradually started feeling like overused excuses.
The former was acceptable but the latter—how could someone survive a fall into a river simply because of cosmetics?
Baek Min-chan, the manager at Éclat Étoile, thought this way but couldn’t confront Seoyeon directly.
However, the continuous complaint was somewhat problematic.
“Later, I need to somehow reinforce this image.”
Of course, achieving such feats through cosmetics alone would be impossible. If that were possible, they’d be used for military purposes instead.
In any case, as the two companies celebrated their success, other advertisers sought to connect with Seoyeon in some way.
“After all, a model’s image is temporary, isn’t it?”
“Will a phenomenon like this ever happen again?”
While some considered it temporary, others realized that actors could capitalize greatly on this period. From the company’s perspective, it was the ideal time to leverage her popularity.
Thus, everyone scrambled to connect with Seoyeon before it was too late. However, Seoyeon’s attitude was lukewarm.
“Since I already appear in TV shows and movies, adding advertisements could lead to excessive image consumption.”
Jo Seohui advised wisely. Seoyeon was already consuming a lot of her image capital.
After all, people inevitably grow tired of seeing the same face repeatedly.
Though the past year had been a balance between gaining recognition and managing her image, she couldn’t sustain this pace indefinitely.
“Honestly… I’d also like to join, but…”
Jo Seohui eyed Seoyeon and continued.
“Not interested in going along?” Seohui teased.
Seoyeon, preoccupied with trying on clothes, didn’t respond much, indicating that she wasn’t completely against the idea.
“Hmm… By any chance, next time, why don’t we visit? There’s someone my father is close with in Japan who operates a hotel.”
“Really?”
Seoyeon was surprised at Seohui’s proposition. Since Mi Rinai Land, Seohui had become more open about such topics with Seoyeon.
Perhaps because Seoyeon didn’t show much reaction to the financial aspects.
On the other hand, Seohui herself wasn’t overly excited about her family’s wealth.
“Yep, places like Okinawa or Hokkaido would be great.”
“Hmm… Okinawa, Hokkaido. Hmm…”
At the mention of these destinations, Seoyeon’s excitement suddenly waned. Seohui was puzzled.
Weren’t Okinawa and Hokkaido among the most iconic travel spots in Japan?
The costs for accommodation at such places would be exorbitant.
Perhaps Seoyeon preferred ryokans over hotels? When asked, that idea didn’t excite her either.
Why?
As Jiyeon observed, Seoyeon’s indifference likely stemmed from her disinterest in anything outside her preferred spots.
Akihabara or Denden Town—places like that were more her style. She wasn’t really into tranquil, relaxing getaways.
Seoyeon preferred energetic and fun outings. Jiyeon thought Disneyland or Universal Studios might be more appealing.
As Jiyean helped Seoyeon choose clothes.
In any case, today’s shopping trip was enjoyable.
In truth, this shopping session was merely a taste. The upcoming one might be even bigger.
“Today is technically a preparation for Seoyeon’s trip to Japan.”
For items like clothes and necessities.
“First of all, this girl doesn’t properly manage her cosmetics or dresses.”
Even if they went together, only a small group would join: Park Eun-ha’s manager, maybe Narumi Sora, perhaps the manager too? A group of four or five at most.
Seoyeon preferred small groups.
“Hopefully, there aren’t too many incidents.”
Frankly, Jiyeon was a little worried. Seoyeon looked the same while chatting casually with Jo Seohui, but there was a noticeable excitement about her.
And she observed that Seoyeon’s conduct with Seohui had grown much friendlier—practically speaking, almost intimate, despite not using overly casual language.
Jiyeon hadn’t given much thought to it, but now realized she felt a twinge of jealousy.
Seoyeon had always considered Jiyeon her only friend, but now she seemed to be forming bonds with Seohui and others too.
Though a little resentful, Jiyeon also felt slightly happy about it.
At the YHJ Broadcasting Station in Korea, talks were underway about a certain actress visiting from Japan.
A specific entertainment program had already been suggested, but the plan felt somewhat flat without surprises or thrills.
“What about hidden cameras?”
“Ah, that’d be great!”
For first-time visitors from abroad, nothing quite beats hidden camera stunts. But the key lay in the concept.
“How about horror?”
Finally, the usually silent Amaya Hiroki PD spoke up.
“H-Horror?”
“Right, she actually mentioned it herself. Asked if she’s ever watched Japanese horror films.”
Responding was Nanzo Katsuo PD, who’d met Seoyeon in Korea. Horror films were a famous characteristic of Japan.
When asked, Seoyeon denied ever watching them.
“I’ve never actually felt fear in real life.”
“I doubt I’d get much from watching horror films.”
Seoyeon replied nonchalantly.
“Wow, that makes me want to go through with it more.”
“Still, we should inform her manager first.”
“Agreed. We should discuss our plan and proceed from there.”
After all, they couldn’t casually set up a hidden camera prank with an international actress. Honestly, they weren’t too familiar with Joo Seoyeon.
She seemed liked an artist Nanzo Katsuo PD admired after meeting her in Korea. But her Japanese debut was also planned, with The Chaser soon to be released. And she was very popular due to Dream Future.
Recently, Korean actors visiting Japan were rare, making this a promising move.
“But, if she has no reaction, that could get tricky. I saw she’s quite cool.”
“Yeah, we’ll need to work harder. Fortunately, the locations seem perfect!”
While this conversation was happening in YHJ, preparing for the upcoming broadcast, Joo Seoyeon was carrying several bags heading toward the airport.
“Looking forward to my trip to Japan.”
