Chapter 193
“Manager Thomas, I think there may be some misunderstanding.”
“It’s true that we’re developing our own platform, but that and this are separate matters.”
I expressed my deep disappointment that Network Flex had approached this business while viewing us solely as a potential competitor.
“Disappointment?”
Thomas looked taken aback.
“From our perspective, it’s a perfectly reasonable suspicion.”
“If that isn’t your intention, then why are you insisting on five years?”
His cold attitude didn’t soften in the slightest.
I smiled faintly.
“It seems I didn’t explain clearly enough why I proposed a five-year exclusivity period.”
“You said Network Flex is investing a considerable amount in production costs.”
“That’s true.”
“But that valuation is based on the present.”
I leaned forward slightly.
“Fixing the value of content and the scale of the streaming market ten years from now to today’s standards isn’t investment.”
“That’s accumulation.”
Thomas’s lips parted as though searching for a response.
I didn’t give him the chance.
“And on top of that, you included a mandatory renewal clause.”
“I understand the logic that if you assume the risk, you want exclusivity in return.”
“But an ‘exclusive period’ and a ‘priority negotiation right’ are completely different things.”
“This is practically stripping us of our future property rights.”
I made the point clear.
Network Flex was purchasing the streaming rights.
It did not have the right to mortgage the very soul of the work ten years into the future.
“And more importantly....”
I took a short breath.
“Because this is our first contract.”
Tyler tilted his head.
“What do you mean?”
“The reason I want this clause changed isn’t simply for Big Picture’s benefit.”
“If we sign this contract as written, then from now on, every production company you meet will hear the same thing.”
I looked directly across the table.
“You’ll tell them, ‘Big Picture signed under these terms too.’”
If the first button was fastened wrong, it would immediately become a bad industry standard.
“I don’t want to create that kind of precedent.”
“We need to think long-term.”
“If Network Flex genuinely wants to be welcomed in Korea, then the first thing you need to remove are clauses that tighten around creators’ throats.”
“Only then can both sides actually win.”
Taking all of that into account, I explained that five years was the most appropriate exclusive period.
And instead of mandatory renewal, I proposed compromising with a priority negotiation right.
After hearing my reasoning point by point, the Network Flex side could only exchange glances without immediately arguing back.
Tyler remained silent for a while before finally speaking.
“I understand what you’re saying, Director Min.”
“But even so... considering the production costs we’re investing....”
“Ah, since you brought up production costs.”
I enlarged the production-cost clause on the contract displayed on the tablet.
“According to your draft, Network Flex covers all production expenses.”
“And in return, you take every right.”
“IP ownership.”
“Secondary rights.”
“Overseas distribution rights.”
“Even merchandising rights.”
Tyler nodded.
Attorney David spoke in his place.
“Yes.”
“That is our standard contract condition.”
“And that’s exactly why I’m saying it’s too one-sided.”
I looked at David firmly.
“We are not subcontractors who simply take money and hand over content.”
“We are creators.”
“We cannot completely abandon the rights to the IP we create.”
The atmosphere in the conference room tightened even further.
This time, Jessica stepped in with a troubled expression.
“How about both sides take a few days to think things over?”
“It may be difficult to settle everything in the very first meeting.”
Tyler nodded.
“That may be best.”
“We need to consult headquarters as well.”
“Understood.”
“Let’s do that.”
And so, the first meeting ended without reaching any agreement.
Three days later, we held the second meeting in the same room.
“We’re willing to adjust the exclusive period to seven years.”
Tyler offered the first concession.
“In return, your company may retain some of the secondary rights.”
“I’m sorry, but that still isn’t enough.”
I answered firmly.
“Five years of exclusivity.”
“And Big Picture must retain at least fifty percent of the secondary rights.”
Tyler shook his head in frustration.
“We can consider thirty percent.”
“But fifty is excessive.”
“Then let’s make it forty percent.”
I continued immediately.
“In exchange, what if we jointly fund part of the production cost?”
That would effectively turn the arrangement into a co-investment.
Tyler quickly glanced toward David for legal input.
David and Jessica leaned toward him almost simultaneously and whispered something rapidly.
“And the revenue-sharing ratio also needs to be renegotiated.”
I pushed before they had time to settle.
Thomas frowned.
“You want to change the revenue split too?”
“If we’re partially funding the production ourselves, then naturally we should receive a larger share of the revenue.”
Tyler remained silent for a moment before replying heavily,
“I think we need to reconsider the question of shared production financing first.”
The second meeting also ended without agreement.
Three days later, we held the third.
“Headquarters has completed its final review.”
Tyler handed us a new draft contract.
“Six years of exclusivity.”
“Thirty-five percent retention of secondary rights.”
“Revenue share, seven to three.”
“This is the furthest we can go.”
I carefully read through the contract.
Six years... not bad.
But seven-three on revenue is still unreasonable.
After organizing my thoughts, I spoke slowly.
“If you adjust the revenue split to six-four, I’ll accept six years of exclusivity.”
“Six-four is impossible.”
“We’re covering most of the production expenses.”
“Then let’s adjust the funding ratio.”
