BIE 23

Chapter 23…

They say they want to recruit me.

How do I feel?

A bit dazed, really.

I’ve never been treated like this before.

I didn’t even know the entertainment company’s name—GB Entertainment—until today.

“Are you going to sign the contract?”
“Right now? Hmm, would that be a good idea?”

Gamdong asked, but I wondered if I should rush it.

I looked at him and said firmly:

“Today’s me is cheaper than tomorrow’s me!”
“…What does that even mean?”
“Look, just a little while ago I was a beggar, and now I’m like this. That means I’m destined to rise. If I wait a little longer, won’t my value go up even more?”

Gamdong suddenly made a face like he’d bitten into dung.

“Where did you hear something like that?”
“Actually, I’ve been doing some research into this industry.”
“Research? Market research?”

He looked at me as if I was ridiculous.

Hah, this punk—what does he take me for?

“Why? Is it weird that I did market research?”
“Isn’t it weird?”

He must be thinking of my past life. Does he think the world is easy?

“You think being a beggar is easy?”
“Of course it’s hard. But honestly, who becomes a beggar because they want to?”
“Why are you so sharp all of a sudden?”

Always sharp in useless ways, this guy.

But he only knows half the story.

“Yeah. No one chooses it. You get pushed aside by society, and before you know it, you’re a beggar or homeless. And that’s what makes it even harder.”
“I didn’t say it wasn’t hard, but…”
“Do you know where the crowds pass by, where begging works best, where cash still circulates in this card-heavy world?”
“Huh?”
“At transfer stations, no matter how many people there are, folks are so busy they won’t even spare a single second to look at a beggar.”
“Well, those who don’t give just won’t give, right?”
“But even the ones who usually give—do you think they’ll go out of their way to return during their busiest hour just to hand you money?”

Gamdong had no answer.

Hard facts hit harder, don’t they?

“Like you said, people don’t want to be beggars. But once you’re pushed down, you fight to survive. Then it’s turf wars, time wars. They call it a jungle for a reason.”
“Well… I can’t really argue with that. Still, let’s say you did market research. Based on what? You’ve got an expert right next to you.”

Ohhh… is Gamdong sulking?

His grumbling face definitely looked a bit hurt.

“Man, I just studied a little so I wouldn’t waste your time. I was gonna ask you anyway.”
“Ahem. Well, I have been busy lately…”

His face softened. What a simple guy.

Might as well cross-check with him. He’s the only one I can discuss this with anyway.

“As you know, there are a lot of companies besides Director Park’s that want to cozy up to me, right?”
“Yeah. They’ve even been asking me all sorts of questions.”
“See? My guess is—I’m about to blow up.”
“Didn’t you say it was all hype?”
“Even hype is useful before it pops.”

What does he know anyway?

I could tell even the director today saw me as one of the marketing points of this drama. Not the main one, sure, but not just a throwaway role either.

I’ve already got enough filming experience under my belt.

“Soon my value will skyrocket. Then I’ll line them all up, let them bid, and my price will rise even higher…”
“What materials did you even look at?”
“Huh?”

Why’s he suddenly giving me that suspicious look?

“W-why are you asking that all of a sudden? I-it’s just what people do these days!”
“Did you do your market research through fantasy novels?”

Flinch!

Ugh, I jumped so hard it could be heard.

“N-not fantasy… modern fantasy.”
“Web novels?”
“Yeah, I’ve been killing time with those lately!”
“Oh, come on…”

I blurted it out without meaning to.

But it felt so real! The commenters all wrote like experts too.

“There’s actually a lot of people there who know the industry well. They even coach the authors, calling stuff popcorn material or nonsense…”
“You mean ‘realism’ and ‘consistency.’”
“Yeah, that. Anyway, I’ve seen characters blow up out of nowhere, and, hey—look at me now, I suddenly blew up too, right?”
“And how many of those characters are still around a year later?”

I froze.

I hadn’t thought about that.

“Huh?”
“Every year, someone suddenly becomes famous. But after one or two years, how many are still left?”
“B-but some become international stars…”
“That’s fiction.”
“They make tons of money too…”

Now Gamdong was looking at me with pity.

Gamdong… is it really like that? Is fiction just fiction?

“That’s why it’s fiction. Honestly, a beggar becoming an actor—that’s already novel-worthy.”
“…Right?”
“And that beggar can even see ghosts? Wow. That’s full-on fantasy.”
“True…”
“And then all the companies come throwing piles of signing bonuses at you?”

Gamdong, stop. That’s too real. Hurts.

“Of course, this is a good opportunity. You’ve got a big chance to rise. But don’t you think the agencies already know that?”
“…They do?”
“Exactly. The contracts and signing fees they offer already include that possibility.”

Suddenly, I had nothing to say.

“So should I sign? They haven’t even given me the contract yet.”
“Still, play it cool. Once the drama airs next week, reactions will come anyway.”
“See! I was right then!”
“I said moderation. Don’t start strutting around like a star already. Plenty of people ended up nobodies because they played too hard.”
“Uh… yeah…”

So he was just worried about me.

“Alright. But can’t you keep looking out for me like you do now?”
“You think that’s possible? As I get busier, we’ll each have to move separately sometimes.”
“Ugh…”

He was right, but it still felt disappointing.

“Anyway, this is good. Honestly, I didn’t expect you’d get this far.”
“Yeah. But what do you think of my acting? The director always just says ‘okay.’”
“Objectively, you’re really good. Especially since you don’t have ‘jjo.’”
“Jjo?”
“Bad habits. And you don’t look into the camera much. That’s a strength.”
“Even beggars can’t stare directly at people when begging. It makes them uncomfortable. I guess I was professionally trained.”

Come to think of it, being a beggar helped a lot.

“Geez… maybe we should hold auditions in front of Seoul Station.”
“Hey! You think guys like me are common?”

I know that world too well.

I only managed because I begged diligently and lived decently. Otherwise, it’s pure hell out there.

“Anyway, GB is one of the top companies in Korea when it comes to actor care. It’s not a bad choice.”
“But if I sign, they won’t suddenly treat me like a caught fish and stop feeding me, right?”
“Feeding you what?”
“Like beef.”
“…”

Gamdong shook his head a few times, then walked out.

What?

Does that mean no more beef after I sign?

Meanwhile

Kwon Soo-hyun’s face twisted.

“Damn it!”

He’d done stage greetings, variety shows, all sorts of promotions.

But his movie flopped, while the “beggar” was trending in memes.

At least he gained some recognition in Southeast Asia, but now on Korean social media, the phrase “worse than a beggar” was stuck to his name.

“That damn beggar… I should’ve broken his legs.”

His road manager sighed quietly. The company was in a bind too. An image hit like this could be devastating.

And that wasn’t the only problem.

“Hyung, don’t just get angry. The company told you to be careful for a while.”
“What? Careful?”
“You know how an assistant director had to go to the police to smooth things over that time.”

Soo-hyun clenched his teeth.

Of course he remembered. He’d even been reprimanded by Director Go because of it.

“That’s why I need to watch him even more! That punk’s new drama is about to make waves!”

That was another problem.

If the beggar blew up, Soo-hyun would take even more damage in comparison.

The contrast between the beggar role and the “god” role made it a hot issue.

If the beggar kept rising, the issue would stick permanently.

They couldn’t coexist.

“Come on, I heard it’s just a minor role. Nothing to worry about. Look, even online it’s just listed as another small part…”
“What the—what’s this?”

They both stared at the search portal.

[Find the Beggar! – Operation Undercover Beggar!]

“This is such beggar-like bullshit!”

Things were definitely turning against them.

Elsewhere

Jingle jingle jingle.

Park Man-soo shook his bells and thought:

Where am I? Who am I?

Beside him came an annoyingly cheerful voice:

“Hot gukbap here! Gukbaap! Eat your fill of pork slices too!”
“That damn beggar…”

Man-soo trembled with anger.

A nearby staff member widened their eyes.

“Huh? Beggar?”
“I mean… that beggar role kid works really hard. Just slipped out, haha.”
“Pretty sure you said ‘punk’…”
“He’s a friend, you see… heh heh.”

From the side, Su-han shot him a sharp glare.

Man-soo’s back turned clammy with sweat.

Thankfully, the staff didn’t question it further.

“Oh wow! This is the first time a famous ox-head gukbap place brought a food truck here!”
“I gave them a reading that brought them luck. Now, shall I do one for you?”

Jingle jingle!

Man-soo was out on a fortune-telling gig he’d half been forced into by Woo Soo-han.

Of course, Soo-han had lured him with “I want ox-head gukbap,” so they’d even brought a whole food truck from a famous place.

It was just a simple reading anyway.

Thanks to his returning spiritual energy lately, it wasn’t difficult.

“Oh wow, you actually came?”
“Hm?”
“Hello! I met you briefly when you were filming with actor Oh In-hyung.”

A man in his fifties approached and shook his hand.

“Ah, that documentary.”
“Yes. Very memorable.”

Then Su-han cut in:

“Say hello—this is our director.”
“Nice to meet you. Please call me Yonghwa-doryeong.”

Man-soo exchanged business cards with Director Kim Hyun-chul.

Not a bad connection. After all, plenty of people in the entertainment industry came to him for readings.