Yoo-jin's declaration to enter the world of film and television was not a whim; it was a calculated declaration of war. In the weeks that followed, his office, once a sanctuary of clean lines and minimalist design, transformed into a fortress of paper. Stacks of scripts, screenplays, and TV pilots rose from every available surface, forming precarious towers that threatened to collapse under the weight of a thousand different stories. He had put out the word through his newfound industry contacts—the ones who now took his calls without hesitation—that the wildly successful, cash-rich Aura Management was looking to invest in storytellers. The resulting flood of submissions was a testament to his new status in the cultural landscape.
He began the arduous process of the hunt. This was a new and unfamiliar jungle, and he needed to learn the tracks of its beasts. He started with the top of the pile, with the scripts submitted by the biggest agencies, written by the most established names. He picked up a glossy, professionally bound screenplay, its cover boasting the name of a writer famous for a string of commercially successful, critically lukewarm action films. The title was Seoul Genesis.
He settled into his chair, opened the first page, and activated his Producer's Eye. He was no longer looking for an artist's potential or their scandal factors. He was recalibrating his ability, tuning it to a new and far more complex frequency: the frequency of story itself.
The familiar blue interface flickered into his vision, but the data it presented was entirely new, a fresh set of metrics for this new medium.
[Analyzing Script Asset: 'Seoul Genesis']
[Author Profile: Hwang Joon-kyu. Talent Potential: A-Rank (Established).]
[Commercial Viability (Domestic Market): A-Rank.]
The initial data was strong, exactly what a traditional investor would be looking for. But then came the new, deeper metrics, the ones that truly mattered to Yoo-jin.
[NEW METRIC - Narrative Integrity: 45% (Formulaic)]
[Analysis: Follows standard three-act structure with high predictability. Plot points adhere to established genre tropes. Low risk, low narrative reward.]
[NEW METRIC - Thematic Resonance (Global): 25% (Culturally Specific)]
[Analysis: Core themes of national pride and historical rivalry have limited appeal outside the domestic market.]
[NEW METRIC - Character Authenticity: 30% (Archetypal)]
[Analysis: Protagonist is a standard 'stoic hero.' Antagonist is a one-dimensional 'corporate villain.' Supporting characters serve purely functional roles.]
Yoo-jin closed the script after reading only ten pages. His Eye had already dissected its soul and found it wanting. It was a safe, polished, domestic hit waiting to happen. It was also completely hollow, a product manufactured for a market, not a story born from a heart. He tossed it onto a rapidly growing rejection pile.
He spent days like this, sifting through the offerings of the industry's elite. With each script, his understanding of his recalibrated ability grew. He learned to see the invisible architecture of a story. He could pick up a romantic comedy and his Eye would flash a warning: [Structural Flaw Detected: Act II Pacing Collapse - 'The Midpoint Lull']. He could read a thriller and see the verdict before the final page: [Plot Twist Predictability: 85%. Insufficient Foreshadowing.] He could analyze a historical drama and find its fatal flaw: [Character Depth: C-Rank. Protagonist lacks a compelling internal conflict.] His ability was a cheat code for script coverage, allowing him to diagnose in minutes what would take a team of readers weeks to uncover.
But just as with his music, he knew the script was only half of the equation. A story was nothing without the right storyteller to bring it to life. He began to hold meetings.
His first was with a hotshot young director, Cha Min-joon, a man lauded for his visually stunning commercials and music videos. He walked into Yoo-jin's office with an air of unshakeable confidence, a portfolio of his slick, beautiful work in hand.
Yoo-jin shook his hand and activated his Eye.
[Analyzing Subject: Director Cha Min-joon]
[Primary Talent: Visual Storytelling (S-Rank)]
[Core Traits: 'Aesthetic Perfectionism,' 'Innovative Cinematography.']
[CRITICAL FLAW DETECTED: 'Style over Substance.']
[Analysis: Subject prioritizes visual impact above narrative coherence and character development. Emotional depth is often sacrificed for aesthetic beauty.]
[Scandal Factor: Arrogance, Conflicts with Crew (70% - High Risk)]
Yoo-jin smiled politely, listened to the director's passionate but shallow pitch for a visually spectacular but narratively empty project, and then showed him the door. He was looking for a partner, a collaborator, not a brand whose style would overshadow the story.
Weeks turned into a month. The rejection pile grew into a mountain. He was beginning to feel a familiar despair, the same feeling he'd had when he was searching for his first true artist. Everything he was seeing was a product, a safe bet, a copy of something that had already succeeded. There was no soul.
He was about to give up for the day, his eyes aching from reading, when his gaze fell upon the last, unassuming script at the bottom of a submission box. It wasn't professionally bound. It was printed on cheap paper, held together by a simple metal clasp. The cover page was plain, with a simple, intriguing title: The Gyeongseong Alchemist. The author was an unknown, a debut writer named Lee Eun-seo.
With a weary sigh, he picked it up, expecting nothing. He opened it to the first page, which began not with a flashy action sequence, but with a quiet, detailed description of the smell of medicinal herbs in a dusty shop in 1930s Seoul.
He started reading. And as he did, his Producer's Eye activated on its own, not with the usual cool, analytical hum, but with a surge of energy, the data glowing with an intensity he had never seen before, not even for his most talented artists.
[Analyzing Script Asset: 'The Gyeongseong Alchemist']
[Author Profile: Lee Eun-seo. Talent Potential: SSS-Rank (Latent).]
Yoo-jin's heart began to pound.
[Narrative Integrity: 98% (Masterfully Plotted)]
[Analysis: Complex, multi-layered plot that seamlessly blends historical accuracy with fantastical elements. Pacing is impeccable, with rising tension and emotionally resonant plot twists.]
[Thematic Resonance (Global): S-Rank]
[Analysis: Explores universal themes of identity, resistance against oppression, hope in dark times, and the clash of tradition and modernity. High potential to resonate across cultural boundaries.]
[Character Authenticity: SSS-Rank]
[Analysis: Protagonist is a deeply nuanced, morally complex female character. Supporting cast is rich, with unique voices and compelling individual arcs.]
He was only twenty pages in, but he was completely captivated, both as a reader and as a producer watching the flawless data scroll through his vision. Then, a final, stunning alert flashed, a metric he had never encountered before.
[SYSTEM ALERT: 'Global Phenomenon Potential' detected.]
[Probability of achieving critical and commercial success on a global scale: 85%]
Yoo-jin's hands were trembling slightly as he held the script. He had found it. It was the one. This wasn't just a good story; it was a potential masterpiece, a story with a soul so powerful he could see its light. This was the story that would launch Aura Pictures.
Now, he just had to find the storyteller worthy of telling it.