[‘Man of a Thousand Faces’ is curious about your decision.]
Reading the god’s message, Han Seongtae kept walking.
The road to PAN Entertainment.
The Gods of Acting wondered why he had chosen PAN rather than JT.
“Because they were the first company to offer me anything.”
[‘One Who Made Laughter From Tragedy’ says that’s too simple a reason.]
“And I haven’t chosen PAN outright. I’m going to look over the contract first and then go where I get the best terms.”
Twenty-plus years of experience had not been wasted.
He knew well what made a contract unfair or favorable for a rookie.
‘I know the standard contract clauses of this era.’
The more you knew, the stronger your position at the table.
Jeong Du-sik might become famous in the future, but that didn’t mean Han knew him well.
A face Han didn’t know might lurk behind the smiling one.
“At least where contracts are concerned, I trust my eye.”
[‘One Who Made Laughter From Tragedy’ thinks you will handle it well.]
[‘One Who Defined His Era’ confidently says they can help with the contract.]
Han nodded with a smile.
Come to think of it, all four Gods were figures who would have known actor contracts inside out.
The times were different, but they could still judge good from bad.
“That’s reassuring.”
Their help would be undeniable.
After following the address Jeong Du-sik had given, Han arrived at PAN Entertainment.
[‘Man of a Thousand Faces’ marvels, asking if all agencies these days occupy such fine buildings.]
[‘One Who Defined His Era’ mutters that with an office like this, good terms might be expected.]
They didn’t actually occupy the whole building, but there was no need to say so.
Smiling, Han walked on and met Jeong Du-sik, who had come out to greet him.
“Hello, Seongtae-ssi. Long time no see.”
“Yes, hello. Have you been well?”
“I’m always well. Let’s talk as we go in.”
Seeing Han, Jeong Du-sik’s face brightened; he seemed quietly excited.
Han followed him into the building.
Beyond the silently sliding doors lay PAN’s office.
As it was on one of the top floors, the view through the windows was impressive.
“Floors 3 and 4 are leased out to others, so please avoid them if you can.”
“All right.”
“They say we’ll take the whole building before long, but who knows when.”
Jeong Du-sik was a man of many words.
He poured out even the details that need not be told, and Han simply nodded, keeping a polite smile.
They reached the office on the thirteenth floor.
“Deok-su-ssi, you’re back?”
“Yes. Where’s the team lead?”
“He’s in the conference room. And behind you…?”
“This is the person who may be joining us. Is the team lead alone?”
At Jeong Deok-su’s question, the staffer nodded.
Thanking her, Jeong Deok-su led Han to the conference room.
Knock, knock.
“Yes?”
“Team lead, may we come in?”
“Please, come.”
Opening the door, they saw one person inside.
“Team lead, I’ve brought actor Han Seongtae.”
“Thank you. Hello, I’m Min Na-jeong, team lead of Actors Team 2.”
“I’m Han Seongtae.”
“Please, sit.”
Han sat across from her and handed over a sheet of paper. It was his résumé listing the university play and Choi Ye-chan’s film.
“Hmm…”
Min Na-jeong’s expression turned curious as she read.
Among so many actors, it was rare to see one with so little experience, one of the two credits was merely a university production.
“War of Villains is Director Choi Ye-chan’s current film, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.”
“I see.”
She tapped the table, face thoughtful.
“Have you prepared a performance for us today?”
“Yes.”
Without hesitation, he replied. Han was someone who practiced before doing anything. Of course he had something ready.
“Then may we see it?”
“Certainly.”
He stood.
Actors Team 2’s conference room was used for staff meetings and sometimes to watch actors perform.
“Phew…”
Standing before Jeong Du-sik and Min Na-jeong, Han breathed quietly.
What mattered in an audition piece? He believed it was persuasion, acting that satisfied the viewers and let them understand what they saw.
[‘Man of a Thousand Faces’ says conveying meaning without a script is difficult.]
[‘One Who Made Laughter From Tragedy’ murmurs that silent theater had been hard for him at first.]
Han’s piece was a slightly altered version of the monologue he’d done in class, the confession left unsaid, a man supporting the one he loves with wistful sadness.
“…”
“Ha…”
Their faces changed as they watched. His acting evoked an indescribable feeling.
“Excellent. You expressed the aching heart of unrequited love so well I felt my own chest tighten.”
“Thank you.”
“I should thank you. Now I see why Du-sik-ssi was so eager to bring you in.”
Min Na-jeong’s praise flowed, and Jeong Du-sik beamed.
“If you could wait a moment.”
“Yes.”
She stepped out and soon returned with documents.
“This is the standard contract. Would you look it over?”
“Of course.”
It was the official standard form. With nothing yet proven, he couldn’t expect grand terms.
‘Seven-year term, split fifty-fifty.’
An ordinary, unremarkable contract—exactly as expected. No problems.
Then Min Na-jeong’s next move caught him off guard.
“And this is our company contract.”
“Team lead? That’s—”
Jeong Du-sik looked flustered, as if he’d seen something that shouldn’t appear here.
‘This isn’t the standard form.’
Han’s eyes twitched.
The new document differed greatly.
‘Five-year term, sixty-forty.’
The term was two years shorter, and Han would receive sixty percent. Many other clauses favored him.
It was not a contract normally offered to someone who was practically a trainee.
“I don’t think I deserve terms like this.”
Though favorable, he regarded the situation objectively. There was no guarantee the films he’d do would succeed. The beneficial terms could become shackles. Better treatment meant higher expectations.
“We offer it because we believe in your potential, Han Seongtae-nim.”
“Hmm…”
“No need to feel pressured. As you’ll see, we’ve no wish to force you. Take your time.”
Was there any need to hesitate?
[‘Man of a Thousand Faces’ says working with a company that trusts you can be great fortune.]
[‘One Who Defined His Era’ advises that at your current level it’s rare to get such treatment.]
Even the gods saw it positively.
“I’ll sign.”
Once he decided, the process was quick—signature, seal, and he received a contract packet.
“We look forward to working with you, Han Seongtae-nim.”
“I also looking forward to it.”
“You’ll be handled by Team 2. A manager will be assigned after a meeting.”
At the word “manager,” Min Na-jeong glanced at Jeong Du-sik.
“Why don’t you have a look around the company? Du-sik-ssi, please guide him.”
“Yes.”
After farewells, they left the office. He toured here and there for a while.
“Uh… Seongtae-ssi?”
Seo Ha-rin came into view.
“I didn’t expect to see you here.”
She spoke, and Han nodded with a smile.
“So you’ve joined PAN Entertainment. Then we’ll be seeing each other often.”
“Yes, when time allows.”
The conversation was brief. She had things to do, and he had little to say.
‘It would be perfect if Ha-rin were cast in Min-seok’s film…’
[‘One Who Defined His Era’ nods, saying the image certainly fits.]
[‘Man of a Thousand Faces’ murmurs that it seems a good idea.]
In the future, Seo Ha-rin became a skilled actress. Unlike Han, she was successful, and he knew the roles she’d played including thrillers and mysteries.
“Well, see you next time.”
But he let the thought go and parted without regret. The project wasn’t even complete, and Min-seok hadn’t asked him to find actors.
After leaving her, Han arrived at PAN’s script library.
“Please look through the scripts and call me. I’ll come fetch you.”
“Thank you.”
With Jeong Du-sik gone for a while, Han began browsing.
As befitted an agency with footing in the industry, the library was packed. The room alone was over twenty pyeong1 and stacked high with scripts.
‘And these are only the ones they kept after culling.’
From plays to films. To Han it felt like a treasure vault.
“Wow… they have this?”
Joy lit his face as he saw familiar scripts. Produced and unproduced, he sorted which he could appear in and what roles he might play.
While he was absorbed, a voice came from behind.
“I don’t recognize you. Are you the new manager?”
- 1 pyeong ≈ 3.3 square meters ≈ 35.6 square feet
So if the script library is over 20 pyeong, that means it’s roughly:
66 square meters or about 215 square feet. That’s around the size of a large bedroom or small studio. ↩︎
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