Chapter 168
It was a weekend evening, and Hairy’s Music Salon was unusually crowded.
Director Song Jaehyun, Gil Boyoung, Moon Hyunbin, Ma Sanghee, Moon Changsoo, and the rest of the group had all gathered for a New Year’s party.
“CEO Ma, I heard your stock went up again?”
Baek Seonghan, now an executive director, looked at Ma Sanghee enviously.
“It’s all thanks to Director Min.”
Ma Sanghee clasped her hands together gratefully.
I quickly waved her off.
“No, no. What did I do?”
“If anything, I’m the one who should be grateful. You always let your actors work with us on good terms.”
As the MBS miniseries Her Memory Method continued pulling strong ratings and generating buzz every episode, the popularity of Starlight’s actors appearing in the drama had risen along with it.
And as a result, Starlight’s stock price had climbed sharply too.
“Ah, if I’d known this would happen, I would’ve bought some Starlight shares too.”
Song Jaehyun sounded regretful.
Moon Changsoo immediately teased him.
“Then buy some now, before it goes up even more.”
“Come on. It’s already gone up too much.”
“I’ll wait until it drops a little and buy then.”
“Huh?”
Moon Changsoo narrowed his eyes.
“What was that just now?”
“Director, don’t tell me you’re hoping our stock falls?”
“Ah, you caught me. Hahaha.”
Song Jaehyun laughed and turned to Moon Hyunbin.
“By the way, Hyunbin, I heard you’re joining Director Yoon Chanhyuk’s next project.”
“I read the script.”
“Isn’t the protagonist in his fifties?”
“Ah, I’m not playing the lead.”
“I’m taking the main villain role.”
“A villain?”
“You?”
“And I thought the part wasn’t that big.”
“Yeah.”
Moon Hyunbin nodded.
“It’s my first proper villain role, so I’m a little worried.”
“But I’m not exactly young anymore.”
“I need to broaden my acting range.”
“Kibaek recommended it too.”
“Oh?”
Song Jaehyun nodded in understanding.
“Well, if Director Min recommended it, I’m sure it won’t be bad for you.”
Moon Hyunbin nodded, then turned the conversation around.
“By the way, Director, how’s the script coming?”
“Got any role I could play?”
“If you say you want one, I’ll create a role that didn’t even exist. Hahaha.”
Just then, Moon Changsoo cut in.
“Then while you’re at it, Director, give Boyoung noona something too.”
“Boyoung?”
Song Jaehyun looked surprised.
“Isn’t she starting a Hollywood project next month?”
“That role isn’t that big, so she’ll finish pretty quickly.”
A Hollywood director who had seen the French film Gil Boyoung shot two years earlier had offered her a role, and she was scheduled to fly to Hollywood for filming the following month.
“Boyoung, are you actually interested in working with me?”
Song Jaehyun asked.
Gil Boyoung smiled.
“Yes.”
“I think it’s about time I started working in Korea again too.”
“Kibaek already recommended a few projects to me.”
“That makes sense.”
Song Jaehyun chuckled.
“If you’re coming back to Korea, Kibaek would be the first person to start worrying about your projects.”
The conversation continued casually.
Then Ma Sanghee seemed to remember something.
“Ah, by the way, isn’t PD Cha Seungjoon coming today?”
“Seungjoon?”
At the mention of Cha Seungjoon, Song Jaehyun glanced briefly at me before answering as though nothing was wrong.
“Ah, I think he’s been busy lately.”
“He texted that he probably couldn’t make it today.”
The truth was, ever since New Wave merged with Big Picture, Cha Seungjoon seemed to be deliberately avoiding my calls.
“Ah, I see...”
A strange concern flashed across Ma Sanghee’s face.
What was that expression?
I tested the waters.
“Why?”
“Did you have something you wanted to talk to Seungjoon hyung about?”
“Ah, well... actually...”
Ma Sanghee hesitated as though she was about to say something.
Then she changed her mind.
“No.”
“It’s nothing.”
“I’ll just contact PD Cha separately later.”
I couldn’t press her any further.
And our gathering continued late into the night.
Time passed again.
Before we knew it, nearly a year had passed since Han Taesung became CEO of Hanshin Media.
“Director Min, you worked hard this past year.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“You’re the one who worked hard, CEO Han.”
For the past year, Han Taesung had secretly examined every corner of the massive elephant that was Hanshin Media.
Financial statements.
Staffing structures.
Contract terms.
Debt structures.
Fixed costs.
Even popcorn sales by theater branch.
And he had done it all while avoiding the eyes of executives who openly disliked him and monitored his every move.
In practice, Han Taesung had been living a double life that wasn’t much different from an intelligence operation.
But that double life was finally over.
Tomorrow, he would take the report he had spent a year preparing into Hanshin Group’s main conference room.
“I just don’t know if this data will really work.”
Han Taesung sounded somewhat worried.
I smiled calmly.
“CEO Han, the only thing stronger than intuition is fear.”
I turned on my tablet and showed him a graph flashing red.
“Mega Cinema still has the number-one market share.”
“But the number of theater visits per person has already peaked.”
“You told me Chairwoman Han has a sharper nose for money than anyone, right?”
“Then we need to make her afraid.”
I tapped the graph.
“Afraid that this is the last chance to sell at the highest possible price.”
Han Taesung drew in a deep breath.
“Good.”
“I’ve spent a year swallowing insults.”
“Tomorrow, I’ll pay them all back with one shot.”
The next day.
Hanshin Group headquarters in Gangnam.
The air in the main conference room was so cold it felt frozen.
Hanshin Group’s key executives sat around a large oval table with their arms crossed, staring at Han Taesung with openly hostile expressions.
Chairwoman Han Myunghee sat at the head of the table.
She let out a short, irritated sigh and glared at Han Taesung.
Her frustration was understandable.
Han Taesung had been brought in with great expectations to revive Hanshin Media, a business that had long been a burden for Hanshin Group.
But after one full year, the results he had produced appeared minimal.
For Han Myunghee, the disappointment was difficult to put into words.
The cable channels were still losing money.
Mega Cinema was barely maintaining its existing performance.
[Tch. I told you from the beginning, didn’t I? Big Picture? At the end of the day, wasn’t it just some neighborhood shop? Putting someone who ran a tiny operation like that in charge of Hanshin Media was absurd from the start.]
[Exactly. Even if it was the Chairwoman’s decision, it was ridiculous from the beginning.]
Among the executives, Han Taesung’s reputation had fallen to rock bottom.
And because Han Myunghee had personally brought him into Hanshin Media, criticism was starting to reach her as well.
“So this is what you called me here to present after an entire year?”
Han Myunghee tapped the report in front of her with one finger.
The title was printed clearly on the cover.
[Proposal for the Sale of Mega Cinema]
“Was bringing you in a mistake from the beginning?”
Her rebuke carried more contempt than disappointment.
Mocking murmurs immediately spread among the executives.
“CEO Han, just what exactly have you been doing for the past year?”
Executive Director Bang, who handled finance, spoke with open sarcasm.
“The cable channels are still in the red, and now you’re suggesting we sell the only profitable business we have?”
“Ha.”
“This is so absurd I don’t even know how to respond.”
Han Taesung smirked at him.
Then he glanced toward the employees waiting near the corner of the conference room.
A moment later, the first slide appeared on the large screen covering the wall.
[Analysis of Saturation in the Korean Theater Industry]
“Executive Director Bang.”
Han Taesung spoke calmly.
“Before criticizing it, did you actually read the report?”
“If you had read it properly, I don’t think you’d be criticizing it like this.”
“What did you just say?!”
Ignoring the enraged executive, Han Taesung continued.
“Well, it’s fine.”
“I can explain it to you directly now.”
He looked around the room.
“You call Mega Cinema a cash cow?”
“In my opinion, it’s an asset approaching its expiration date.”
“And right now is when we can sell it for the highest possible price.”
His voice was firm, as though he was releasing everything he had held back for an entire year.
“What nonsense!”
“An asset approaching expiration?!”
Criticism and murmuring erupted again.
Han Taesung remained completely relaxed.
“On the surface, the business looks impressive.”
“But very soon, the growth rate of theater rents and labor costs will exceed revenue growth.”
The slide changed.
A graph appeared, with the point where the lines crossed highlighted in red.
“And the more serious problem is visits per person.”
“In 2012, the national average was 3.8 theater visits per person.”
“By 2014, it had risen to 4.1.”
“Despite that overall increase, Mega Cinema’s own figure has actually fallen to 3.5.”
He looked around.
“Do you know why?”
“Because our aging facilities are being rejected by younger audiences.”
“Then renovate them!”
One executive immediately shouted.
“Instead of repairing outdated facilities, you want to sell the entire business?”
“How is that anything other than self-destruction?”
Murmuring broke out again.
Han Taesung didn’t care.
“Renovate?”
He scoffed.
“This is exactly what people mean when they say the tail costs more than the dog.”
“And if you look at the data, over the past three years, the number of multiplex theaters nationwide increased by fifteen percent.”
“But audience growth during the same period was only 1.2 percent.”
He pointed toward the graph.
“Do you understand what that means?”
“The theater industry is already saturated.”
“Stop talking nonsense!”
Another executive snapped.
“If the number of theaters is increasing, that means business is good!”
“Would idiots keep opening stores if the business wasn’t profitable?!”
The executives started talking over one another again.
This time, Han Myunghee sharply glared across the table.
“Everyone, be quiet.”
The conference room immediately fell silent.
She turned back to Han Taesung.
“Continue.”
Han Taesung nodded.
“Theaters are hardware.”
“You need buildings.”
“You need to maintain them.”
“You need to employ people.”
“As I’ve already explained, the industry is saturated.”
“And within a few years, it will begin declining.”
He paused.
“On top of that, Mega Cinema’s aging facilities will inevitably lose ground against competing multiplex chains.”
“So I believe selling it now, while its value is still at its highest, is the best decision for Hanshin Media.”
Han Myunghee’s expression darkened.
“Then what comes next?”
“Are you planning to shut Hanshin Media down entirely?”
“Is that the conclusion you reached after one year, Taesung?”
Every executive in the room turned toward him.
Han Taesung slowly lifted his head and looked directly at Han Myunghee.
A smile spread across his face.
Not mocking.
Not self-deprecating.
Simply calm and certain.
“Of course not, Chairwoman.”
“Selling the theaters is only the beginning.”
