I left the mansion with architect Yoo Han-seok.
Then we went to find the art director, who was with PD Kang In-chun.
We brought them back to the mansion and carefully explained the situation.
The art director tilted his head.
"You both have a point. But don’t you think it would look unnatural if the abandoned house appeared too perfect on screen? It should reflect a century of wear and decay."
"There’s an eeriness in how it maintains perfect angles despite a hundred years passing. That eeriness plays a critical role in the script. Please reconsider."
The mise-en-scène is the art director’s domain.
Pushing too hard could overstep boundaries.
However, if the art director had a good grasp of my script, he wouldn’t ignore our proposal.
After staring out at the landscaping for a while, he spoke.
"Well... thinking about the script, I guess it makes sense. Alright, it’s not like we’re rebuilding the house. Moving the landscaping will be quick."
Architect Yoo Han-seok and I let out a sigh of relief.
"Thank you for understanding, Director."
"No problem. Things like this happen all the time on set. If PD Kang agrees, we can proceed right away. But we’ll need to delay filming by about two hours."
"I’m on board. I’ll buy you some time, so get started," PD Kang said, giving his approval.
Yoo Han-seok and the art director began discussing the landscaping modifications in detail.
With an insightful architect and a flexible art director, I felt comfortable leaving it in their hands.
"O-jun, why are you standing there like a statue?"
PD Kang called out to actor Choi O-jun, who was standing beside me.
Now that I thought about it, had he been following me this whole time?
Choi O-jun looked at me intently before speaking.
"Um... Could I have your contact information, by any chance?"
"Sorry?"
"I’d really like to meet with you privately sometime. I’ve been struggling with how to portray the architect character. But just now, the way you talked, your tone, and how you observed things... It was exactly how I imagined the character. I think I finally know how to approach this role."
Was it the passion for acting? I could feel it in his words.
"I appreciate the compliment, but I’m a writer, not an architect. You’d get a more natural impression from architect Yoo Han-seok."
"No, Writer."
Choi O-jun grabbed my arm firmly.
"I’m sure I’ll have questions later on. I just know it."
PD Kang nudged my side and whispered in a low voice.
"Just give him your number. He’s totally smitten with you."
Are actors always this honest about their feelings?
Before I knew it, I exchanged numbers with Choi O-jun.
"Alright, come on, let’s grab a sandwich," PD Kang said, smoothly pulling me away from the group.
We sat side by side on foldable chairs next to the bus, eating sandwiches.
In the distance, the landscaping work was already underway.
"How’s the script coming along?"
"It’s finished. I’ll bring everything to the next meeting. I even added some artistic lines that I think you’ll like."
Director Kang In-chun chuckled.
“As expected. I knew you could pull it off.”
“It’s a little gift for the viewers who stayed with us until the end.”
“You’re really getting the hang of this drama world, you know.”
“It’s all thanks to you and the production team for your support.”
I took a big bite of my sandwich.
“So, what are your plans after finishing the script? Are you heading to Japan to see Hiruki? Lately, every article about you seems to mention him.”
“Do I have to go?”
Kang In-chun’s eyes widened at my question. It wasn’t arrogance or conceit—I genuinely wanted to know.
Is it really necessary for me to meet him in this situation?
Just because a famous author calls, does that mean I have to respond without question?
“Well, usually people would go, right? It’s Hiruki, after all. It wouldn’t hurt, would it?”
“Hmm… I’ve got some personal matters to deal with. For now, I’ll put the Hiruki thing on hold. Also, I won’t be coming around here for a while after today’s shoot—it’s a bit too far.”
“Why not? Choi Oh-jun likes you so much.”
“The actors are already too conscious of me. They’ve got enough to worry about with you watching over them. I don’t want to disrupt the team dynamic. Just contact me if any dialogue changes are needed. I’ll also give you my manager’s number.”
I shared Ji-hoon’s number with him.
Kang In-chun looked a little disappointed.
“Leave the rest to you, Director. Please bring it to life properly.”
“You sure about that?”
“This is a collaboration. If it becomes a hit, I’ll be satisfied—that’s what I wrote the script for.”
“Look at you. You must be busy. I bet you want to start writing something new.”
I smiled in response. He was right.
The urge to begin my next project was bubbling up inside me—especially a novel. I could feel the desire to write fiction rising like a wave.
“Still, make sure to do another drama with me someday.”
“If the opportunity arises. Now, I need to check on the landscaping.”
“Go ahead.”
I crumpled the sandwich wrapper and tossed it into a plastic bag.
Heading back into the mansion, I stood by the window.
The construction outside was progressing smoothly.
Both the art director and architect Yoo Han-seok looked pleased with the progress.
It seemed the collaboration was going well.
I stepped back slowly, assessing the proportions and angles between the window frame and the landscape outside.
“…Perfect.”
Everything was just right.
I could now entrust The Day It All Falls Apart to them without any reservations.
I slept the entire way back from Gangwon Province.
The shoot had been exhausting—it was impressive how everyone managed to stay focused throughout.
Especially Han Ye-rin and the other actresses.
How did they maintain such endurance with their slender bodies? It made me realize that not just anyone could be a professional actor.
The atmosphere on set had been great, too—a good balance of tension and laughter.
Director Kang led the mood skillfully, like the veteran he was.
“Hyung, we’re here!”
“…Hmm? What time is it?”
“It’s 1 a.m. Get some rest.”
As expected, sleep hit me hard right after 10 p.m.
Since Ji-hoon had napped all afternoon in the car, he was still wide awake.
“Whoa, there’s a lot of packages.”
“What did you order so much of?”
We were sorting through the pile of packages at the entrance when Ji-hoon noticed something.
“Hyung, this one looks like international mail.”
“Huh? Who’s it from?”
“It’s addressed to you. The sender’s name is written as LEE SANG in English.”
“Really? Hand it over.”
I took the package without much thought.
Who would send me something from overseas?
I was too tired to think much about it.
Once in my room, I examined the box.
The sender was J-A Entertainment, and the origin was Japan.
“…Japan?”
I had a hunch.
I quickly tore open the package.
And the moment I saw the contents, my drowsiness disappeared completely.
It was the latest novel by Murakami Hiruki.
Moreover, it was the Japanese edition that hadn’t even been released in Korea yet.
And J-A Entertainment managed Hiruki.
I held the book in my hands, feeling the distinct lightweight and soft texture typical of Japanese books.
It definitely felt different from Korean books.
When I opened the cover, the first page contained a handwritten message:
[In hopes of meeting a genius. April 29, 2021. From Murakami Hiruki]
In hopes of meeting a genius.
...Hiruki called me a "genius."
The next day, I spent the entire day reading The Book of God.
It was a brilliant work.
It depicted the generation affected by the burst of Japan’s economic bubble in the '80s and '90s.
The story followed their children as they carved out their own destinies.
It tackled social issues,
offered sharp criticism of history,
and went beyond Japan to deliver a bold message about humanity’s future.
A meticulously planned, socially conscious novel with a powerful message.
It wasn’t the kind of story written with a genius’s raw intuition,
but rather the refined work of a seasoned master—an artist who had lived his life as a novelist.
Having received such a gift, I couldn’t just sit back as a fellow writer.
The moment I closed the book, I began writing a brief review.
- In The Book of God, "God" refers to the nation of Japan, the world, and even the entirety of human history. How far can an individual born into such a world walk a path contrary to destiny? Look at the journey of Yaoyama in The Book of God. Notice the brilliance of the sun at the end of his path, and the cool shadow of the moon illuminating his back. Yaoyama knows that the moon was once the sun. And we know that human history, too, was once all sunlight. But like Yaoyama, we walk the path of history, step by step, like pilgrims on the journey of life.
I translated the review into Japanese as well.
Handing it over to Ji-hoon, I said,
“Post it on every social media platform in Korean, English, and Japanese. Tag me, Hiruki, and The Book of God. I’ll take a picture of the book he sent and give it to you to include in the post. Please do it as soon as possible.”
The next day, social media was buzzing.
The fact that I had read The Book of God before its official release and that Hiruki had personally gifted it to me, caused a huge stir.
The reaction in Japan was no different.
However, the Japanese media added one extra note:
"A response from the 'genius' recognized by Hiruki."
A few days later, I received a call from Karasade Publishing.
“Hello.”
Garasadae?
My face naturally twisted in displeasure.
Whether it was due to Lee Hyun-gang’s influence or not, they had been persistently criticizing me.
“What do you want?”
I stayed silent.
So, they managed to snag Hiruki’s new work.
Garasadae definitely had the financial backing.
It must have taken a contract worth at least a few hundred million won and a hefty advance payment.
“A recommendation?”
A recommendation usually appears on the back cover—a short endorsement from critics or fellow writers.
“I’m not interested. Find someone else to write it.”
The editor on the other end sounded flustered.
There weren’t many authors who wouldn’t jump at the chance to have their words printed in a Garasadae book.
Especially for a masterpiece by Hiruki.
For most writers, it would be an honor.
“I’d be happy to write a recommendation for Hiruki’s book anytime, but I have no interest in contributing anything to a Garasadae publication.”
Typical Garasadae tactics.
They were trying to slip in subtle threats.
“I guarantee you, Hiruki isn’t someone petty enough to misunderstand something like this. Don’t try to stir up trouble between us. If you want to keep publishing his works, that is.”
“I’ve said everything I needed to say. Do not print a single word of mine in any Garasadae book or promotional material. That’s all. Goodbye.”
I ended the call abruptly.