White Heron, do not go to Crow Valley.

The angry crows will mistake you for one of their own white-feathered kind.

Why would one who has washed in the clear river sully themselves?

— The White Heron Song

The film opened with a sijo.

An elderly noblewoman in her seventies, elegantly dressed in fine hanbok, clutched at the sleeve of her son, who was setting out to visit an ailing acquaintance.

"Last night's dream was ill-omened, Mong Ran. Please, don't go."

"Do not worry, Mother. I'll be back before long."

She watched her son disappear with a smile.

Then she gripped the collar of her robe and recited the poem.

Had she known it would be the last time she ever saw his back?

As the lines of The White Heron Song appeared in brushstroke calligraphy along one side of the screen—

Caw. Caw.

The cry of a crow echoed ominously through the soundtrack.

A white heron soared proudly into the sky, only to plunge straight into a flock of crows. The camera closed in on the face of a crow shrieking viciously—

And slowly dissolved into a scene of Jeong Mong Ju and Yi Bang Won confronting one another across the frame.

Late Goryeo, Early Joseon

The film had begun.

 Sluuuurp.

Yu Seok drew deeply on his large cola.

He loved acting.

When he was young, he had dreamed of becoming an actor himself.

But he had been too perceptive for his own good. At an age when most children still believed anything was possible, he had already realized that his first dream belonged to a category of things that could never be attained.

"Can't you just stay quiet? If you'd sit still and behave like a dead mouse, we'd love you for it."

Fourth grade.

When he came home ranked first in the entire school with perfect scores, his father had smiled awkwardly.

His mother had remained expressionless.

He had gone without dinner that night.

His older brother, meanwhile, depressed because his grades had fallen, received the newest robot toy on the market.

Yu Seok swallowed hard as he stared at it, but his brother would not even allow him to touch it with a finger.

Then came the next exam.

When Yu Seok intentionally scored lower than his brother, his father scolded him.

His mother bought him the robot he had coveted.

Yu Seok stared at it silently before placing it on a display shelf.

He never once played with it.

You must never be too outstanding.

Especially not more outstanding than your brother.

You must never stand out.

Standing out brought shame upon the family.

You must never work too hard.

People might mistake it for ambition.

Actor.

Celebrity.

They were dreams he could never even entertain.

It wasn't that he feared being disowned.

He would simply be buried before he was ever given a chance.

That was how powerful his family was.

"Your Majesty, he must be executed!"

The screen depicted an age of royal authority.

They said the lives of princes who never became Crown Prince were hollow things.

Prince.

The title sounded glorious.

But if one never ascended the throne, it became nothing more than a decorative shell.

A commoner possessed more freedom to pursue his own desires.

For the intelligent, life became even more miserable.

All that brilliant intellect could be used for was idle amusements and killing time.

And if one's excellence became too obvious, suspicion of treason inevitably followed.

Then one disappeared.

Yu Seok had grown up performing in reality from the time he was very young.

Wearing the mask of an obedient child with no ambition whatsoever.

"And to induce a single moment of carelessness, one conducts oneself with elegant restraint, as though one were utterly incapable of such schemes..."

The eyes of the actor he had chosen blazed.

As if tearing off flesh that had naturally adhered to his body, he ripped away the mask.

"...that is called politics."

Ambition vast enough to cover the world spread across his true face.

Yu Seok's chest jolted.

 People watch dramas with the lights on.

They eat while watching.

If the phone rings, they answer it and chat for ten minutes.

If the washing machine beeps, they get up to hang the laundry before returning.

A centrifugal medium.

One where losing focus rarely affects comprehension.

Films were different.

In a dark room, with no possibility of doing anything else, one's phone silenced, one was forced to devote two uninterrupted hours entirely to the screen.

A centripetal medium.

The enormous screen gathered every wandering gaze and drew it inward.

Depending on the message being conveyed and the performance of the actors, a film could swallow the theater—and every audience member inside it—whole.

Gulp.

Time vanished.

Yu Seok stared at the screen as though dazzled.

People who concealed their ambitions, moving with the elegance of the finest silk slipping between one's fingers.

Few would understand their psychology better than he did.

Yet what he was watching was not the characters.

It was the actors inside them.

"Can you not see it?"

"I can."

After graduating university, Yu Seok had founded a small entertainment company.

To his surprise, his mother welcomed the idea.

It proved he had no intention whatsoever of competing with her legitimate son.

Yet even then, perhaps uneasy about her overly intelligent second son, she never forgot to rein him in whenever his ambitions threatened to exceed what she considered acceptable.

"Why bother working at all? I'll give you more money than you could ever spend."

"I get bored. I thought I'd run something small as a hobby. Ha ha."

"Good. Keep it at the level of a hobby. Don't work too hard."

The business became far too successful to be called a hobby.

As expected, he discovered that his eye for talent was exceptional.

But because he understood that his success existed only within the boundaries his mother permitted, he found himself growing increasingly suffocated.

A man who worked as a hobby.

Turn that elegant phrase over once, and it became:

A man who was permitted nothing beyond a hobby.

So within that hobby, he found another hobby.

Discover truly talented actors.

Remove the social barriers that stood in their way.

Lay down asphalt where there had only been rough ground.

Make it impossible for outside pressure to crush talent.

Allow talent and skill alone to carry someone higher and higher.

Like my—

avatar.

The first actor he discovered possessed talent but lacked effort and determination.

The second actor, however...

"You followed me exactly as I hoped. You allowed yourself to be drawn in by my provocation. You closed the door when I asked and delivered that passionate speech. And now a man as coldly rational as yourself has become angry..."

"..."

"With bait working this hard, I wonder. Is the operation outside proceeding smoothly?"

He smiled.

A smile hidden behind a mask.

Yet the actor within was wearing a genuine smile.

As though he found acting itself, being alive itself, unbearably joyful.

His avatar, utterly intoxicated by the character.

No...

How could that actor—

An actor like that—

Possibly be nothing more than his avatar?

He drew people in.

Their eyes.

Their breathing.

Their souls.

"Didn't I tell you earlier? I covet you, Master."

He no longer coveted him.

"I hoped you would be there in the era that will one day be mine..."

Instead, he desperately wished to be present in his era.

"...and thus his death shall become history."

He wanted to witness that history from closer than anyone else.

Thud.

The film ended.

The lights came on.

Audience members who had nearly forgotten to breathe hurriedly sucked air into their lungs.

Clap clap clap clap—

A few timid hands, too moved to restrain themselves, began applauding here and there.

Yu Seok stared blankly at the ending credits for a long time before finally managing to stand on legs that felt numb.

Ah. The cola...

He had taken only a few sips from the large cup.

The ice had completely melted.

It sloshed softly inside.

Melting.

Sloshing.

Just like his heart.

I thought he would become my hobby...

He was wrong.

Instead—

He had become his fan. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

 That day, the internet exploded.

Late Goryeo, Early Joseon Receives Explosive Response After Just One Day in Theaters. Moviepia Rating 9.5!

No Longer a Rookie. Audiences Buzz Over the Proven Skill of a Second-Year Actor.

A Bold Interpretation of History Brought to Life by a Cast of Master Performers.

Director Son Chi Uk's Greatest Masterpiece. This Film Defies Criticism.

Yu Myeong, who had already attended numerous preview screenings, was sweating in Theater Company July's rehearsal room, completely unaffected by the official release.

After finishing a strenuous round of physical training, he picked up his phone during a break.

The screen displayed:

────────────────────

138 Missed Calls

185 Text Messages

You have 74 voice messages. Connect now?

────────────────────

Confused, he opened the messages.

Even while he was looking, more continued arriving.

The most recent—and the most frequently repeated—were from Ho Cheol.

[Hyung, you're at the rehearsal room, right? Don't come out alone. I'll come pick you up.]

Tilting his head, Yu Myeong opened the next message and immediately understood.

[Actor Yu Myeong~ This is Reporter Noh from Movie Tower. Do you have a few minutes for a phone interview?]

[Yu Myeong. Do you remember me? Kim Eung Su, Class of '99 from Changcheon. The movie was incredible.]

[Mr. Yu Myeong! It's Sun Woo Hyeong from Tick Tack Talk. We'd love to have you on for a special feature episode...]

Ryu Shin glanced at his own phone and spoke.

"People from Audius and every company contact who knows we're rehearsing together have been calling nonstop. Congratulations. Looks like the movie's a huge hit."

"No. We need to wait and see."

"Let's finish rehearsal early today. Lots of people are probably trying to congratulate you. I should go watch the movie myself."

"You should've gone with us back then..."

Yu Myeong had invited Ryu Shin to the preview screening.

Ryu Shin had refused, saying he'd simply buy a ticket after release.

Since both of their projects were opening around the same time, Yu Myeong had understood and hadn't pushed.

"Huh? Senior, tickets are sold out."

Seol Su Yeon casually waved a ticket in the air.

A dangerous gleam entered Ryu Shin's eyes.

"Sell it to me."

"What? No."

"Ten times the price."

"Gasp..."

"I'll also cancel one day of training."

"Gasp..."

"Sell it and watch the first showing tomorrow. I have a schedule tomorrow and won't have time before rehearsal."

"..."

In the end, Seol Su Yeon surrendered her ticket with a tearful expression.

Watching Ryu Shin look thoroughly satisfied, Yu Myeong couldn't help laughing.

 "Mr. Yu Myeong..."

That day, after arriving at the company, Yu Myeong met Yu Seok.

For some reason, the man looked conflicted.

"Yes, Team Leader?"

"I watched the movie."

"Oh... you did? Was it okay?"

"...Yes. You're going to be very busy for a while."

Yu Seok frowned slightly, as though calculating the future.

"I think this film is going to reach ten million admissions."

"Ten million? Come on... not that much."

Yu Myeong looked unconvinced.

The audience base for Korean cinema had only expanded significantly after the rise of multiplex theaters in the early 2000s.

As of 2005, only two films had ever surpassed ten million admissions.

Those successes had been miracles where script, cast, and box office fortune aligned perfectly.

"It will. The offers are going to flood in. Interviews, events, appearances. I'll filter a lot of them out, but if a rookie rejects everything, people won't look favorably on that. You're going to get busy."

"I really don't think so..."

"Want to make a bet?"

"...What kind of bet?"

"Whether it reaches ten million or not. If you win, I'll grant you anything you want. If I win..."

"And if you win?"

"After the play ends, I choose your next project. How about it?"

Yu Myeong smiled.

Come to think of it, ever since acquiring management, he had never once discussed project choices with Yu Seok.

Not that he had anything particular to ask for.

And granting Yu Seok one request didn't sound bad.

Besides, ten million admissions weren't exactly something that happened every day.

"Crude's commercial launches today, right?"

"Yep. That's what I heard."

"They're timing it with the film's release to maximize publicity. Not a bad strategy. The commercial turned out extremely well. If anything, it'll help the film rather than hurt it."

"Yeah. I haven't even seen the fifteen-second version myself. I'm curious."

That night, at nine o'clock.

After Yu Myeong and Yu Seok parted ways.

During prime time, immediately before one of the hottest dramas on television—

The first commercial for Crude finally aired.