Chapter 137
21st century.
What would be the biggest change in the film industry in the 21st century?
Anyone familiar with movies could answer without much thought.
[Universe]
The transformation of film franchises into universes.
Creating multiple films within a shared world.
[Wow, they’re in the same universe too?]
[They’re releasing one film a year. That speed is insane.]
[But this is already the second time they’ve rebooted the universe…]
If one film succeeds, they expand its world.
Producing film after film, continuously.
And dominating the box office in the process.
This was the phenomenon of the "universe craze."
[Everything’s a universe these days.]
[Hey, but isn’t making a universe with horror movies a bit much?]
[Horror movies are the root of universes, though.]
[What?]
From a viewer's perspective, it was enjoyable to see different facets of the world within their favorite films.
It was exciting to see beloved characters appear in other films.
In many ways, for those who consumed these universes, it was like a new cinematic frontier unfolding before them.
Calling it a phenomenon wasn’t enough.
Revolution. Revolution was the right word.
The great revolution of the film industry swept Hollywood, much like Dvořák's Symphony "From the New World."
[There are too many films to watch.]
[It’s a buffet. A buffet.]
Of course, it wasn’t without its downsides.
These franchise blockbuster films dominated theaters, forcing smaller-scale films out.
Could criticism be avoided?
[This isn’t cinema. It’s just a movie.]
As the franchising of films accelerated, production costs ballooned like helium balloons.
The higher the production cost, the harder it became to take risks.
As a result, excessive focus on commercialism led to neglecting the artistic quality of works.
‘Though in the end, such artistic films found success in the OTT market, establishing a new base there.’
Recalling the history of film briefly, Lee Min Ki turned his gaze forward.
‘The leader of that franchising is standing right in front of me now.’
Emma Spector.
As the head overseeing the studios of AST, a giant Hollywood film company, she was the very person behind the current universe craze.
She smiled brightly at Lee Min Ki.
“I’ve heard a lot about you from Bae Jung Mun. Would it be okay to have a quick chat?”
A mere thirty minutes after a whirlwind shoot.
By the time he finished talking with Emma Spector.
“It was a pleasure speaking with you.”
She extended her hand to Lee Min Ki.
“Think it over, and I look forward to hearing a good answer.”
“Oh, yes.”
Lee Min Ki hesitated slightly as he grasped her hand, and Emma Spector, with her lipstick gleaming, added.
“Who knows? We might end up being great partners, Mr. Min Ki.”
“…I’ll be in touch.”
“I must have taken up your time. Hehe, see you again.”
Just as she came like a storm, she left like a typhoon.
Lee Min Ki, who had just faced such a giant figure without a moment’s breath, couldn’t help but think.
‘Is this even okay?’
He couldn’t say he felt entirely good about it.
“Actor, would you like to take a walk?”
“Sure.”
Leaving the studio and heading to a nearby walking path.
The weather was unbelievably nice—exactly what one would expect from California.
After a long stretch of silent walking down the street.
“Manager.”
Suddenly, Lee Min Ki turned to Manager Park Han Mo and asked.
“What do you think about that proposal earlier?”
“To be honest, I’ll tell you frankly.”
Manager Park Han Mo replied in an icy tone.
“It’s an offer you absolutely shouldn’t reject.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, AST reaching out to recruit you personally speaks volumes.”
That’s right.
The reason Emma Spector contacted Lee Min Ki directly was simple.
“To cast you in the new Odin Universe film.”
It was an invitation to appear in the film.
And not just any film—Odin Universe, the most iconic name when one thinks of universes today.
Is there anyone nowadays who doesn’t know the Odin Universe?
A universe featuring countless heroes and villains.
With over thirty films to its name.
All but two of them were box-office successes.
It was an achievement that would astonish anyone in the film industry.
It was clear.
The current film industry was being led by the Odin Universe and AST.
“Phew.”
Even so, Lee Min Ki let out a sigh, unable to feel entirely thrilled.
“No matter what, putting four films under Odin Universe is a bit much.”
The conditions AST set for him were excessively demanding.
‘Four consecutive appearances, with all non-film schedules subject to review during the filming period. They’d even assign an in-house trainer to manage my body personally.’
And that wasn’t all.
If any unfortunate incidents arose, AST could unilaterally terminate the contract at any time.
Even if he was filming another project overseas, he’d have to return immediately if AST called him.
Moreover, he’d be obligated to attend all events hosted by AST.
If he opposed the provided script, they could demand he step down from the role—basic stuff.
While it was called scouting, it was practically no different from tightening a leash around his neck.
It would essentially mortgage at least five years of his acting career.
‘The rewards are sweet, though.’
That was the real issue.
“If you finalize this contract, your value as an actor will likely never be the same.”
As Manager Park Han Mo noted, it was a gamble worth risking his life for.
This was the Odin Universe.
How many people had gone from nobodies to stars by appearing in it?
‘There was even someone who went from being a stock image model to a star with a single movie, earning hundreds of times more.’
For anyone below the level of a top star, it was a hard offer to refuse.
They hadn’t yet disclosed which film he’d be shooting.
All they said was that he’d be cast in a supporting role for a new superhero film, with the possibility of being promoted to a lead role based on audience response.
‘I can guess, though.’
There were a few clues.
Emma Spector mentioned needing an Asian actor for the new film.
Starting with a supporting role, but with the potential to rise to a lead role depending on the film’s reception.
Knowing the future, Lee Min Ki could easily guess what this project would be.
‘They want me to play Anonymous.’
Anonymous.
In the Odin Universe, he was the only Asian hero of leading character status.
[My power is the world itself.]
[I am unseen. I simply exist.]
A genius hacker who dominated the internet world.
He was also the leader of the hacking group Anonymous.
Later, he awakened supernatural powers, controlling electronic devices purely with his mind.
It was a power that would later be called the Human Interface.
‘To be honest, just based on the work alone, it was a success.’
In terms of performance, it slightly exceeded the average within the Odin Universe.
But calling it "average" was relative—this was within the Odin Universe.
Compared to the entire film industry, even within Hollywood, it ranked among the top.
‘Is it a leash or success?’
Lee Min Ki was hesitating, unable to make a decision.
“...If I may speak frankly.”
Manager Park Han Mo blinked before continuing.
“Actors often face a choice at times like this.”
“A choice?”
“Yes, everyone stands at a crossroads at least once.”
Curious about what he meant, Lee Min Ki listened as he calmly explained.
“You either pursue commercial success by moving onto a bigger stage with blockbusters or find yourself as an actor.”
“Ah.”
“There’s no right or wrong answer. It’s just like choosing a profession in a game; you decide your career path as an actor.”
Suddenly, it felt like he understood what this meant.
Accepting AST’s offer would mean giving up on art, at least for a while.
Lee Min Ki blinked a few times before speaking.
“If I join the Odin Universe, it’ll be hard to go back, won’t it?”
“Usually, yes. Your image tends to become fixed.”
It was a chronic problem of the Odin Universe.
The character in the work would overshadow the actor’s real image.
Isn’t there always something like that?
Once you appear in a production, you end up being called by your hero name outside the movie as well.
[Isn’t Valkyrie cool?]
[The actor said they hated being called by the hero name.]
[You gotta know their real name to stop calling them that, haha.]
It’s not easy.
Even after graduating from the Odin Universe, many actors struggled to shed that image.
‘What is it that I want?’
Manager Park Han Mo’s words were correct.
This was a crossroads.
Whichever path he chose, he wouldn’t lose entirely, but it would change the course of the next few decades.
Standing between the two difficult choices, Lee Min Ki slowly blinked.
‘If I don’t appear in the Odin Universe, is there another project I want to do?’
Wrong.
The problem was there were too many.
It wasn’t necessarily that there were many substitutes for the Odin Universe.
Lee Min Ki was simply someone who wanted to do a lot of projects.
Here and there, everywhere.
If his body allowed it, he’d want to shoot 10 projects a year.
“Ugh.”
He groaned, unable to come to a clear answer.
“To be honest, I’ve always thought of you as an actor with a thousand faces.”
Manager Park Han Mo began speaking.
“Me?”
“Yes, your range as an actor is very wide.”
When Lee Min Ki flinched, he continued calmly.
“But I don’t mean just in acting. More than that, I’m talking about every area of the entertainment industry. Modeling is a good example. You can express so many things, and you want to. Sometimes you’re water turning into fire, or solid turning into liquid.”
“Haha... thank you.”
At the rare compliment, Lee Min Ki nodded as Manager Park responded.
“You’d have to sacrifice all of that.”
“What?”
Lee Min Ki’s eyes widened.
“What I’m about to say isn’t as a manager representing the company but as someone who watches your work.”
This was serious.
Once he heard what was coming, it felt like he wouldn’t be able to go back.
But at the same time, he was curious, so he listened closely.
And the words finally came out.
“Why are you trying to cut off your own potential?”
“...!”
He opened his mouth in shock.
Did this person really hold him in such high regard?
Did he think that even giving up the title of being JC’s first actor in the Odin Universe, he could achieve greater success?
‘From the company’s perspective, this doesn’t make sense.’
For stable income, it made more sense to push him into the project no matter what.
Had he misunderstood who Manager Park Han Mo really was?
‘He wasn’t just saying things for the company’s sake. He was someone who spoke his own beliefs.’
While Lee Min Ki was astonished.
“You are destined for greatness.”
Manager Park Han Mo straightened his clothes, speaking casually as though shedding a layer of formality.
“Even if it’s a project outside the Odin Universe, don’t you have the confidence to succeed? Or was there ever a time you were itching to join the Odin Universe?”
“No, not really.”
“I thought so. That’s why I said it. Someone like you.”
Could someone speak so confidently?
Could someone act as though they knew all there was to know about your perspective on projects?
If Manager Park were more commercially driven, Lee Min Ki might have dismissed him as a lunatic.
But.
It was hard to deny.
If Lee Min Ki chose the Odin Universe, he’d gain the Odin Universe.
What would he gain if he gave it up?
‘Everything.’
Everything else.
‘Commercial success? Sure, it’s good, not bad.’
Who doesn’t like success?
But Lee Min Ki was someone whose priorities lay elsewhere.
‘If I were only after commercial success, I wouldn’t have done Forever Blue in the first place.’
From the very beginning.
From that first moment when he decided to become an actor.