We were in the conference room.

The executive producer, assistant producer, director, script supervisors, and a few staff from the PR team were there — everyone who mattered in the studio.

They were deep in discussion about the ending of our current K-Drama hit, The Nice Doctor.

They didn't know.

They didn't know that the entire story was stolen — lifted straight from a Wattpad account of an unknown, independent Korean writer.

While they argued about camera angles and emotional beats,
my mind drifted.

A flashback.

The original title was The Silent Healer.

The ending was already there when I found it.
All I had to do was add a twist here, change some character names, trim a few scenes, and smooth out the structure.

That's it.
That's all it took.

The story flowed like an original piece.
And everyone bought it.

Did the original writer try to come after me?

Yes.

Of course he did.

But I handled it.

With a little help.

Min Ho.
Big guy. Not handsome, not ugly. Built like a construction worker with a baseball bat. Looked like he belonged in a shady crime drama.

Do Gun.
Fat, intimidating, eyes that never blink. He looked like he could chug a whole barrel of beer and ask for another.

And Jae Wook.
Their leader.
Average-looking. Quiet. But dangerous —
the kind of man who doesn't raise his voice...
he raises his knife.

They used to bully me back in high school.

They'd steal my lunch money, mock my clothes, push me around for fun.

Now?

They work for me.

On call.

They knock on the doors of any writer who dares to question me,
and they make sure that writer walks away silent.

If the author wants to fight?

We make them a deal.

₩250,000 for a "typical" story.

₩500,000 if it's an emotionally powerful one — the kind that trends online.

And if they refuse?

They take a punch.

A shove.

A threat.

Then they accept.

Did anyone resist completely?

No.

Not one.

Not Yet.

They all folded.

Some after being scared.

Some after being hurt.

All after realizing they had no choice.

It was a good deal.

I paid my boys.

They did the dirty work.

DreamNest got the show.

And I got the credit.

It was clean.

It was effective.

It worked.

Then I stumbled upon that story —
the one that would become DreamNest's next biggest success.

But that was later.

Right now, my name was being called.

"Mr. Park! Are you even listening?"

Mr. Choi's voice snapped me out of my head.

I sat up.
"Sorry, sir. I'm listening."

He raised an eyebrow, obviously unimpressed.

"We're nearing the final episode of The Nice Doctor.
What's your pitch for our next big hit?"

I straightened my back, smiled as confidently as I could.
"I'm working on it, sir. I'll have the pitch ready early next week."

Inside my head?

"Oh shit. Not again.
Another unrealistic deadline. I don't even know what story to begin with!"

This is my life now.

The studio demands a story.

I write a pitch.

They love it — I'm a genius.

They hate it — they throw it back at my face.

I have to be fast.

I have to make it sound fresh.

Original.

With soul.

With heart.

Even if I stole it.

I've done it before.

It worked.

It made money.

So maybe it won't hurt if I do it again.

But what kind of story this time?

Not romance — that's too cliché.

Every other studio is already drowning in love stories.

Gangster romance?

Too outdated.

Medical drama?

We just did that.

So... what then?

Maybe I'll figure it out tomorrow.

"Good work, everyone," Mr. Choi finally said.

He turned to me before leaving.

"I'm looking forward to that pitch, Mr. Park," he said coldly.

Now the pressure was real.

Now the countdown had started.

I had to think fast.

I had to move fast.

Because if I didn't?

My job, my career, my entire life — would fall apart.

To be continued...