The Regressed Writer Became a Genius Director
Chapter 1: Writer Baek Geonwoo
[Was the true creator of the 16-million-viewer blockbuster The Night the King Died someone else?]
A mechanical voice came from his phone.
Geonwoo stopped breathing.
[Visually impaired screenwriter Baek Geonwoo: "Director Moon Taeseok stole my script."]
The article was finally out.
Sitting on the edge of his bed, Geonwoo tightened his grip around his phone.
For a long time, he couldn't say anything.
His fingertips trembled.
He didn't know whether it was because of anger, relief, or fear that everything had truly begun now.
Geonwoo swiped across the screen again.
The screen reader began reading the article aloud.
[Writer Baek Geonwoo has released the creation date of the first draft of The Night the King Died, revision records, email records showing the script being sent to Director Moon Taeseok, and a comparison chart of key dialogue.]
Geonwoo pressed his lips together.
He had held onto that evidence for years.
At first, no one would listen.
The production company's legal team will come after us. We can't handle that.
The evidence looks convincing, but publishing an article would be difficult.
I'm sorry, Writer Baek.
He had lost count of how many times he'd heard those words.
Newspapers, film magazines, online media outlets, television tip lines, even journalists' personal contact information.
He had sent the evidence everywhere he possibly could.
Every time, he had been rejected.
But he hadn't stopped.
The Night the King Died had surpassed sixteen million admissions, becoming the year's biggest hit.
It was the movie that had returned Director Moon Taeseok to the center of the Korean film industry after a slump that had lasted nearly ten years.
People called the movie Moon Taeseok's resurrection.
But it wasn't a resurrection.
It was theft.
Geonwoo had once dreamed of becoming a director.
Six years ago, after graduating from Gukjongye, he had finally been given the chance to direct his first feature-length independent film.
Its title was Before the Light Reaches.
The film had received funding through a creative support program run by the university.
But an accident happened on set.
A cheap, secondhand high-output light exploded.
Broken pieces of glass pierced his eyes.
From that day onward, Geonwoo's world went dark.
And his dream of becoming a director ended with it.
The person who had reached out to him at the time was Director Moon Taeseok.
"Geonwoo. Even if you can't direct anymore, you can still keep writing."
They had first met at university as professor and student.
Encouraged by his professor's words, Geonwoo became a screenwriter.
Since then, four scripts he had written had been turned into movies.
Then, two years ago, he showed Moon Taeseok the script he treasured most.
That script was The Night the King Died.
When Geonwoo first heard the news about the movie, he couldn't believe it.
He didn't think his professor would ever do something like that to him.
So he went to the theater himself.
And with a trembling heart, he listened to the movie.
It wasn't completely identical to the script he'd written.
But the structure couldn't be hidden.
It was his story.
After finally hearing the contents of the article he had wanted for so long, Geonwoo clenched his teeth.
"Professor, I won't stay quiet either."
His phone rang again.
A text message.
The screen reader read it aloud.
[Writer Baek, you've seen the article, right? You really worked hard for this. Let's watch how things develop today, and I'll contact you again tomorrow morning.]
It was the journalist who had written the article.
The first person who had read all his evidence to the very end.
Geonwoo pressed the voice input button.
"Thank you. I'll wait for your call tomorrow."
The next morning.
Director Moon Taeseok's side began moving.
Geonwoo had barely slept when he picked up his phone.
As he swiped the screen, the mechanical voice spoke.
[Moon Taeseok's side: "Plagiarism allegations are completely false. Legal action will be taken."]
Geonwoo sat on the bed and listened.
It was more or less what he had expected.
[The production company stated that Writer Baek Geonwoo's claims are different from the facts, and that the film The Night the King Died is an original work Director Moon Taeseok had been preparing for a long time.]
Geonwoo gave a hollow laugh.
"An original work?"
It was so ridiculous that he couldn't help laughing.
[Director Moon Taeseok's side also argued that Writer Baek Geonwoo was abusing the fact that he had once been Moon Taeseok's student to make false accusations.]
Geonwoo put down his phone.
"So this is how you're going to play it."
He had expected this much.
Moon Taeseok would deny everything from the beginning.
The production company would protect him.
So would the investors and distributor.
This wasn't just about one director's reputation.
Money was involved.
Honor was involved.
And countless people's interests were tied to it.
But by afternoon, their attacks had become even more blatant.
His phone rang again.
This time, notifications poured in one after another.
Geonwoo swiped the screen.
[Anonymous insider: "Writer Baek Geonwoo has been excessively dependent on Director Moon Taeseok for years."]
Geonwoo's hand stopped.
The mechanical voice continued reading.
[An industry insider identified as Person A testified that after Writer Baek Geonwoo became visually impaired, he developed a deep psychological dependence on Director Moon Taeseok.]
Another article appeared.
[Plagiarism suspicions surrounding Writer Baek Geonwoo's previous works?]
Geonwoo's grip tightened around his phone.
Moon Taeseok was trying to turn him from a victim into a strange, obsessive plagiarist who couldn't let go of his famous-director mentor.
For a while, Geonwoo said nothing.
He was genuinely afraid.
Moon Taeseok had far more power than he'd imagined.
This wasn't a fight that would end just because one article had been published.
But at the same time, Geonwoo understood something.
The article had hurt Moon Taeseok.
If it hadn't, there would have been no reason for him to react this quickly.
Geonwoo slowly raised his head.
"So I did leave a scratch."
Just then, his phone vibrated.
It was the journalist who had written the first article.
Geonwoo answered.
"Hello."
"Writer Baek. Are you okay?"
"Yes. I'm fine."
It was a lie.
He wasn't fine.
But that was the only answer he could give.
The journalist spoke cautiously.
"Their counterattack came faster than expected."
"I expected it."
"Since this afternoon, they've changed direction. They're trying to discredit you personally. I think we'll need to do a follow-up interview."
Geonwoo's hand froze.
"A follow-up interview?"
"Yes. The evidence is already public. But they're going to keep pushing the idea that you're some kind of unstable person."
Geonwoo couldn't answer.
The journalist's voice was quiet but firm.
"You need to step forward and speak for yourself now."
Moon Taeseok's side had already begun trying to paint him as insane.
If Geonwoo backed down here, everything would be buried again.
Just like before.
Geonwoo slowly inhaled.
He was afraid.
But he didn't want to retreat anymore.
"All right. This time, I'll speak for myself."
That night.
A notification told him the taxi had arrived outside his house.
Geonwoo put on his bag.
Inside were the documents he planned to check during the interview.
With his cane in hand and his mother's help, he left the apartment.
They took the elevator down to the first floor.
As soon as the doors opened, the damp smell of rain drifted inside.
"Geonwoo, be careful."
"Yeah. I'll be back."
Geonwoo deliberately smiled so his mother wouldn't worry.
Then a driver's voice came from outside the lobby.
"Are you Mr. Baek Geonwoo?"
"Yes."
"It's raining pretty heavily, so the ground is slippery. Take your time."
The driver held an umbrella over him.
Using the tip of his cane to feel the wet ground, Geonwoo walked slowly.
The taxi door opened.
"Watch your head."
"Thank you."
Geonwoo climbed into the back seat.
When the door closed, the sound of the rain became more distant.
He placed his bag on his lap.
The taxi started moving.
The windshield wipers swept across the glass at regular intervals.
Swish. Swish. Swish.
Geonwoo leaned his head back.
His body was trembling slightly.
Not because he was cold.
Because he was nervous.
Then a familiar name came from the radio.
[Plagiarism allegations surrounding Director Moon Taeseok's recent blockbuster The Night the King Died continue to spread.]
Geonwoo's shoulders stiffened.
[Director Moon Taeseok's side has denied all allegations and announced plans for legal action.]
He didn't want to hear anymore.
"Driver."
"Yes?"
"Sorry, but could you turn off the radio? I have a headache."
"Of course."
The radio went silent.
Only the sound of the wipers and rain remained inside the taxi.
Then Geonwoo's phone vibrated.
He felt around the screen with his fingertips.
A short mechanical voice spoke.
[Unknown number. Incoming call.]
His hand stopped.
It could be the journalist.
Maybe they wanted to confirm the interview location again.
After hesitating briefly, he answered.
"Hello?"
Silence.
Then a familiar voice came through.
"Geonwoo."
His fingertips stiffened.
It was Moon Taeseok.
"Professor."
Moon Taeseok chuckled quietly.
"I hear you're going to do a follow-up interview."
A chill ran down Geonwoo's back.
"How did you know that?"
"Geonwoo."
Moon Taeseok's voice was calm.
That made it even more unsettling.
"Think carefully. Is there really any need to take things this far?"
"Take things this far? I'm going to get my script back no matter what."
"You're still saying that?"
