CH75

In Hollywood, if you're an actor, you're used to filming in front of a chroma key screen.

You know how to fill a space painted green with imagination.

"I'm glad I looked at the concept art. The city is more unusual than I thought."

"Right?"

The cityscape featured two long buildings facing each other.

Ugly bridges connected them, and while the upper levels grew with blue plants, the lower levels were barren with sand blown in from the desert.

"This chimney is the wind power plant mentioned in the script."

"Using updrafts caused by solar heat, right?"

"Uh… yes."

Director Jun-hyuk looked at Ian with surprised eyes.

He had caught on immediately, even though it was a design consulted on by an architect.

"Does electricity represent money then? Since you follow the upper levels' instructions to get it."

"That's right. During the Ice Age, electricity was a lifeline."

Everything from lights illuminating the dark lower levels to desalination plants making drinking water ran on electricity.

The facilities controlling electricity were in the upper levels.

The actors, directed by the director, began shooting earnestly.

People in the lower levels of Grand Line gathered, tense.

Managing solar panels in the upper levels was nothing compared to the dangerous work here.

"Open the door!"

"Got it!"

As people firmly held the walls, two struggled to open a thick iron door.

With a whoosh, a fierce wind blasted, and those who endured peered down into the long chimney.

"Damn it, how long do we have to keep doing this?"

Shining a light downward revealed large spinning blades.

Managing the wind turbine blades was a life-risking task, for if even a small damage was left unchecked, it would be completely destroyed.

In fact, one blade had shattered, completely ruining a chimney.

A man inspecting the blades frowned deeply.

"Damn! It stopped?"

"Really? I'm going crazy. Eugene!"

A young Asian boy peeked his face out.

"What?"

"Barnes, bring that guy over."

"Ah, I don't want to get involved with the middle levels. Can't you handle it yourself?"

"If this worked, would we be living in the lower levels, covered in sand? We'd be thriving in the middle levels."

The middle levels are inhabited by security forces and technicians who follow the upper levels' commands, as well as children born after the disaster.

Among the few who are permitted to ascend from the lower levels was Eugene.

"Hurry up and come back!"

"Got it."

There's no elevator. You have no choice but to walk on two legs, looking up at buildings that strain your neck.

Ian, who was leisurely ascending while avoiding traps set everywhere, spotted something strange outside the window.

"A person?"

Someone is staggering through the cold, dry sandstorm.

They aren't people returning from scavenging in the ruins. If you don't want to die, you don't move alone.

"It's someone from outside!"

Eugene's eyes widened, and he quickly descended the stairs he was climbing.

"Hey, where did Barnes go, leaving you to come down alone?!"

"I think a stranger has come outside!"

"What?!"

After the Ice Age worsened, they lived isolated lives. Those who left to find other places never returned.

And now a new person has arrived.

"Is it real?! If you're lying again, I'll hang you upside down!"

"If I'm right, know that I can tie you to the wind turbine blades!"

"Won't you say a word!"

Eugene, sticking out his tongue mischievously, dodged a grabbing hand and continued down.

Breathing heavily, the boy went outside and saw the face of the newcomer—a man he had never seen before, an elderly man.

"Are you okay?!"

"Ugh…"

The old man smiled faintly and then collapsed.

The upper levels decided to take the elderly man for treatment, and when the lower levels were heated up with news of the old man,

-The elderly man was arrested for spreading false information. The lower levels are ordered to stop the commotion and return to normal life.

This triggered a revolution.

The lower level residents, armed, stood defiant. It was the end of the initial week-long shoot.

After finishing today's shoot, Jun-hyuk ran his hands through his rough, prickly beard grown from busy shooting days.

"If I had known this would happen, I would have placed that child at the head of the table and performed a ritual offering."

"Ha, that would have been interesting."

Nam-soo burst into laughter as he watched Ian surrounded by child actors.

The child actors played roles of children who were born after the disaster and received brainwashing education, about elementary school age. They clung to Ian all over.

"Ian! I watched YouTube at home! You were really small like us. You were cute!"

"There was singing too! Can't you sing for us?"

"No."

Ian, who had become a human willow tree, wore a detached expression.

Even the guardians who should take the children away were smiling happily, so no one was there to help.

"It's time for the children to go back now. They shouldn't be on set for this long."

As the assistant director warned, the children left, and Ian stretched his sore body.

"Are you sure you're not more talented at childcare than acting?"

"Take care of my kid when you have time. Just yesterday, he turned the house into a mud pit."

"I'm an expensive person; can you afford that?"

"Is there no discount for acquaintances? Maybe on an installment plan."

Others burst into laughter at the actor's exaggerated complaints.

At first glance, it might seem like the actors were close from the beginning of shooting, but Director Jun-hyuk knew that wasn't the case.

'It's only like this when Ian is around.'

Isn't there always a central figure in groups of friends, without whom things feel distant? It was exactly that kind of situation.

"What are you thinking about so hard?"

"I was wondering why that kid is so popular among the actors."

"What a difficult question. First of all, he hardly ever makes NGs, so he's good at acting. Who would dislike someone who gets them off work early?"

Jun-hyuk had realized this too. The shooting schedule was tight every day, but the days felt more breathable when Ian was shooting.

"Plus, he's a child actor and Asian. He's not seen as a competitor."

They're in different leagues. In the jungle-like entertainment industry, it means he plays a neutral role.

As Jun-hyuk nodded thoughtfully, someone came up to him with an annoyed expression.

"Director. Can we change the production manager, that guy?"

"Why now?"

"Last time it was about food, and now he says we need to move to a cheaper accommodation."

In Korea, he's called a production manager, in English, a line producer.

Unlike the smoothly running shoot, this was a figure who irked Jun-hyuk.

"For what reason?"

"To take care of the staff and actors up to Hollywood standards, we need to tighten the budget a bit."

"You all are staff too."

"We're not in a U.S. union, so I guess there's no reason to care."

Jun-hyuk scratched his head at the prickly answer.

He had already discussed this issue with Patrick.

"In Hollywood, it's normal for non-union staff. Everyone does it to build their career and eventually join the union."

Although it wasn't the wrong perspective in this context, it had caused trouble again.

"Just don't worry. There won't be any moving of accommodations."

"Understood."

As the staff member left with a confirmation, Nam-soo gave his advice.

"It might be better to act quickly. There's already a fracture among the staff."

"I'm aware, but."

The Korean staff, feeling discriminated against and accumulating dissatisfaction, and the American staff who thought, 'Not in a union? Then there's nothing we can do.'

He could see the divide widening.

'We need unity to work effectively…'

The film isn't a group project, yet it's hard to tell what's become of it. 

The bigger issue is that there seems to be no clear way to solve it. "We can't just suddenly remove an important producer. We need to keep working with him and find out why he's acting this way."

He strongly suspected racism, but couldn't be sure because of Patrick's actions. "Ian, I specifically prepared corn dogs as a snack for you today, how was it?" It didn't seem like racism, considering the care shown to Ian.

***

Ian, who had experienced long periods of homelessness, knew how difficult it was to receive attention and care, and was appreciative despite it being bothersome. 

'But Patrick, this guy is an exception.' 

It's not great just because a cockroach plays the role of a hardworking spouse. That's the vibe.

Marcus, the driver, noticed Ian's expression and asked, "You seem upset." 

"Imagine if a braker was kind and gentle. That's exactly how I feel." 

"…I understand completely."

At first, it seemed fine because he was too nice, but it was a ridiculous thought. Seeing how he treated the Korean staff, his irritation grew. 

"He's nice to me only because it benefits him. He probably thinks I'm easy to manipulate because I'm young." 

He probably knows he has good connections, so he treated him like an easy target.

Back home, Ian put aside the script and pondered, "How can I get back at him?" It wasn't just because he disliked Patrick; he wanted to address the grievances of the Korean staff. Perhaps the schedule was off due to Patrick, affecting their chance to compete at Cannes. Suddenly, an idea came to Ian. 

"So he wants connections? I might not deny him that."

Outwardly, Patrick was overly kind. Alienating such a person would only make Ian look bad. So, returning the favor with superficial kindness seemed the right approach. Ian immediately picked up his phone.

– Ian? What's up? 

"Director Gavin! Is the editing going well?"

– Of course it's going well…

– Is that Ian? How are you?!

– Landon, go do your work! Stop coming into my office!

Gavin and Landon's bickering voices could be heard. 

"You two still get along well."

– Terrible. Once this movie is over, I won't see this guy anymore.

– Hahaha. What are you talking about, buddy? If this movie does well, we have to make a third one.

– No way. I wouldn't do it even for a slap with a dollar.

As Ian laughed at their conversation, Gavin coughed and asked.

– So, what's up? 

"Are you free to meet?"

– I'm not just working all the time, of course I am. When would be good?

Although Gavin was eager to schedule without asking the reason, Ian's goal wasn't him.

"I wanted to see Mr. Edwards again. I heard he's close to both directors, but I didn't get to talk to him properly last time."

– Felix? That won't be difficult. He was indeed very interested in you.

"Thank you!"

It wasn't a lie that Felix was interested, as the appointment was set quickly. 

Having once been kicked off the set for ordering too much Hawaiian pizza, Felix greeted Ian with a bright smile. 

"Is this our second meeting? Just call me Felix." 

"I regretted not being able to talk properly last time. You can call me Ian." 

Though they met in a friendly atmosphere, Ian was seeking a deeper connection. Achieving this proved as easy as expected. 

"I couldn't say it the first time because it was so hectic, but I also like Hawaiian pizza." 

"Oh! Really? You know your stuff!"

Ian took a step further, building rapport. "And I like trying unique foods as well." 

Hearing this, Gavin looked astonished. From what he had seen over the years, Ian wasn't one for challenges; he could live on corn dogs every day if it allowed him to just act. 

Unlike Gavin, who quickly spotted the lie, Felix's eyes sparkled. "Really?" 

"Of course. Can you tell me what you've tried?" 

"Sure! Starting with the more famous ones, there's jellied eels from England and stinky tofu from China. And then…" 

Gavin put down his fork and discussed the smell and texture of jellied eels while casually continuing to eat, as he watched the two with a look of disgust. He regretted introducing them.

***

More than two weeks had passed since filming began. 

As time went on, the Korean staff's frustrations grew due to Patrick picking on them for every little thing. 

Unaware of these complaints, as he had been treating Ian well, he was surprised. 

"The CEO of the co-producing film company, Mr. Edwards?" 

"Yes! Felix mentioned he's been taking good care of some staff recently, so he suggested we all have a meal together. When are you free?" 

"I can make time anytime!" 

"Is that so? Then I'll set it up right away." 

Patrick smirked.

Felix was quite a big shot. Having a meal with him one-on-one was not an easy feat. 

'Just as I thought, Asian kids are like this.' 

Smart, but that's it. 

Seeing how easy it was to get this far just by being nice. 

Full of expectations, Patrick arrived at the meeting place only to break into a cold sweat. Something was wrong. 

"This is a trendy restaurant known for its insect cuisine. You can try crispy fried crickets, taco-style." 

"Wow! In our movie, the lower class eats insect-based food, right? I've been curious about it." 

"Hahaha, that's why I chose this place. Insects are the food of the future."

The friendly voices of the two were barely audible. 

Looking at the next table, green sauce and crickets, looking just as they did in life, topped the tortillas. 

'…Is this hell?' 

The thought of running away was all that came to mind when Ian grabbed his arm. 

"Are you excited enough to check out the next table? Then you should eat a lot." 

"Hahaha, feel free to order as much as you like." 

The road to hell is paved with good intentions. 

Watching the two laugh, Patrick realized that.