IJLMT 27

Chapter 27 …

“But… how did you know? That my wife had pancreatic cancer?”

At those words, Yoo Hyun-jae replied:

[ I didn’t know. ]

Hyung-geon’s heart stirred strangely.

“Our health checkup… it wasn’t because of company policy, was it? It seemed like you personally arranged it, Mr. Yoo. Isn’t it strange you didn’t know? Do you… really see the future or something?”

Even Hyung-geon himself wondered why he so desperately needed an answer to this question.

Even if pancreatic cancer is discovered in stage 1, the complete cure rate is only 50 percent. Thanks to Yoo Hyun-jae, it was caught at an ultra-early stage. The doctor said that unless something unusual happened, the cure rate was around 80 percent.

That made Hyun-jae a benefactor. He had saved Hyung-geon’s wife’s life—which meant he had saved Hyung-geon’s life too. If he had lost his wife to pancreatic cancer, his remaining years would have been filled only with despair.

He was grateful. So grateful that he wanted to bow down in thanks. And yet, regardless of that gratitude, he needed an answer to his question.

“Or was it maybe… when you saw my wife, did you sense something? Did her complexion look bad, or did she seem unwell?”

Yes. The emotion filling Hyung-geon’s heart right now was guilt. He had only met Hyun-jae with his wife once—when they revised the contract regarding rest periods. If Hyun-jae had noticed her health issue in that one meeting and suggested the checkup…

Then what did that say about Hyung-geon, who had lived with her for fifteen years and never noticed? Could such a man call himself a husband?

[ No. I don’t have any abilities like that. ]

“Please, Manager-nim. Can’t you be honest with me? I beg you…”

[ Hmm… if I must explain, it’s because something didn’t add up. ]

“What do you mean by that?”

Hyung-geon’s chest tightened. Didn’t add up? What didn’t? His own behavior?

[ I reviewed some past footage. Your film sets, year-end award shows, variety appearances… It might sound presumptuous, but from what I saw, your wife seemed to love you deeply. She seemed to see your success as her own. ]

“Uh… yes, that’s right. Thankfully, my wife is like that.”

He watched award show clips? Hyung-geon felt embarrassed. Back then, his wife had burst into tears. It became such a hot topic that she was even interviewed, where she’d said: ‘I always knew the world would recognize my husband someday.’

“And what does that have to do with the health checkup?”

[ Didn’t you say you were taking a break because your wife was depressed? That struck me as odd. You had just proven your talent in History of the Fist, and offers were pouring in. Why would your wife—who thought of your success as her own—be depressed? I thought maybe what looked like depression might actually be another illness. ]

“Ah…”

[ So I suggested the checkup, just in case. ]

It felt like Hyung-geon had been hit with a hammer.

Hyun-jae was right. Why hadn’t he realized something so simple?

His wife loved watching him act. She rejoiced in his success. He knew that. But when she was diagnosed with depression, he lost confidence.

He doubted whether she still loved his acting, whether she had grown tired of him.

— Oppa, can’t you just keep acting and not worry about me? You look the coolest when you’re acting.
— I feel so guilty when you say you’ll rest because of me… I just want to see you shine again as a great actor.

He hadn’t believed her words. Her heart had never changed, but he couldn’t be certain. So instead of trusting, he thought he had to rest to comfort her. If he had lost her while doing that… how would he have gone on living?

“…I was a fool.”

[ Not at all. ]

“I heard rumors that you’re like some fortune-teller or prophet… but that’s nonsense. You don’t have mystical powers—you just see things clearly. You see what idiots like me are too clouded to see.”

[ That’s… too much praise. ]

And then, realization struck Hyung-geon. It was the reason why someone like Yoo Hyun-jae couldn’t help but succeed.

NovaGirls—they obviously had talent. Misfortune had kept them from rising, but anyone could see they were destined to shine. Still, people’s judgment was clouded by the fact that they’d been unknown for a year and two months.

Hyung-geon’s wife, Kim Woo-hee—she loved him. She shared in his success. If such a woman appeared depressed while he was thriving, wasn’t it more natural to suspect another illness than to assume depression? But Hyung-geon’s guilt and anxiety had clouded his judgment.

Yoo Hyun-jae’s judgment never clouded. It looked like luck was pouring his way, but in truth, it was simply the natural result of clear thinking.

“Manager-nim, you are my life’s benefactor. I’ll come see you soon.”

[ You don’t need to think of it so heavily… ]

Hyung-geon hung up. Then he asked his wife, who had just come out of the exam room:

“Hey. I was thinking of resting until you got better… but maybe that was a bit selfish of me. What do you think about me taking a break?”

His wife, Kim Woo-hee, smiled brightly.

“Oppa, finally you’re listening to me? How many times have I told you just to keep working? You’re meant to shine on screen. How could I feel okay if I’m holding you back?”

“…”

“Show me that shining side of you. That’s what will give me strength to beat this cancer. Isn’t that right?”

Hyung-geon clenched his teeth to hold back tears.

‘I really was a fool.’

“What? He canceled his break?!”

“Just a few days ago, didn’t he say something like ‘there are more important things than the screen’? And now he’s coming to our team? Just after one conversation with our manager? Wow…”

“I thought our manager had great judgment, but this is on another level. How does he pull this off?”

The office buzzed. They had agreed to keep Hyung-geon’s wife’s health private for now. I stayed quiet, focusing on the pile of synopses and scripts submitted to our company—potential projects for Hyung-geon.

Because Hyung-geon had said this:

— If it’s chosen by you, Manager-nim, even playing a fool would be fine. I just want to succeed and celebrate with my wife. I want to give strength to my wife as she fights this illness.

‘Hmm… then I’ll cut out anything with too long a production timeline.’

I glanced at the ring as I flipped through the scripts. A dark navy flower had bloomed on it the very day Hyung-geon had called me.

Honestly, I felt awkward. Wouldn’t it be easier if I could just say, “Sometimes I see the future, and I saw your wife was gravely ill!”?

But it wasn’t that simple. When I prepared my answer for the inevitable “How did you know?” question, my onion bracelet had reeked. And with it came the word:

“Self-blame.”

Hyung-geon would torture himself with the thought: Hyun-jae noticed, but I, her husband, didn’t. What kind of man am I? I had to rework my answer until the onion gave off a neutral scent. That way, I got through it safely. Though I still felt guilty for pretending not to know.

‘Better pick something that airs quickly. Something his wife can watch to gain strength…’

“Our Part Leader Yoo sets the standard for us all,” said Team Leader Jo Min-su. “A manager doesn’t just get dragged around by their talent. We understand their character, their circumstances, and create the conditions for them to thrive.”

“That’s true, but… how does he do it?” Deputy Manager Kim Seung-mok said. “When I was a kid, I saw a shaman ride a blade during a ritual, and it was the most amazing thing. But these days, watching Part Leader Yoo work feels even more amazing.”

Jo shot him a look. “I’m not saying copy him. Just learn the principle.”

I let their chatter wash over me. At first it embarrassed me, but I was getting used to it. If I let myself squirm every time, I couldn’t focus. And lately, there was plenty of work to focus on.

I picked up the phone.

“Yes, Actor Jang. I selected some synopses as you requested. There’s one that will begin filming next month and move quickly. You’d be the lead role, yes.”

The call ended in under five minutes. Everyone in the office stared at me. Jo Min-su asked:

“He agreed?”

“Yes.”

“What did you pick?”

“An OTT drama produced by MidiPlus. The Gordius Game. It’s a death game series.”

“…Okay.”

Then Deputy Manager Yoo Ji-woo chimed in.

“Wait, that’s it? Just like that? Five minutes?”

“Next step is contacting the production company.”

“…It took me a whole week to decide a project for Actor Park Seon-woo. There were so many factors to consider, and his mind kept changing. And you… do it in five minutes…”

The other staff murmured.

“A death game drama? Has Korea ever had one before?”

“This is Part Leader Yoo’s decision. Still doubting? Didn’t you see our stock price? It’s doubled in a week!”

Indeed, it had doubled. The RSUs I received worth 100 million won were now worth 200 million. And that made me wonder.

Was it right that I was treated this way? Most of it was thanks to the onion, after all. What if I wasn’t worthy? The old man had said onions often withered or rotted—what if that happened to me too?

That’s why I’ve been studying hard. Learning industry trends, reading books on scriptwriting. I don’t want to rely on the onion blindly.

What keeps the onion from withering? I don’t know for sure, but maybe it’s just continuing to do what I’ve been doing.

The dark navy onion flower showed me a glimpse of the future:

[ An unprecedented record—Actor Jang Hyung-geon wins the SAG Award for Best Actor in The Gordius Game! ]

— “Hyun-jae, you’re my younger brother, but I’ll serve you for life. Without you, neither I nor my wife would still be alive.”

In that future, both Hyung-geon and Woo-hee were smiling in good health.

“Part Leader Yoo, did you check your mail?”

“I was just about to.”

“There are three offers waiting.”

I logged into the company account and opened the inbox.

[ From: KBC Working Man Production Team ]
[ From: MBM TV Midnight Horror Stories ]
[ From: tvM Star Behind PD ]

Working Man and Star Behind were Korea’s top two rating juggernauts. Midnight Horror Stories wasn’t as big, but its YouTube clips had massive followings.

I checked the onion’s reaction. A fragrance spread. Curious, I scrolled through the offers. They were all for appearances by Im Yoo-joo, Lee Joo-ah, and other NovaGirls members. But then—

“…This is…”

“Right?”

Jo Min-su leaned over.

“All three want you to appear with them.”

“…”

“Guess people are really curious about you.”

“Joo-ah, don’t you normally dislike shows like this?”

Im Yoo-joo asked from the back seat. Right now, two of Korea’s top stars were riding in my car together. Star Behind’s producers had offered them huge appearance fees.

I wasn’t sure if it was right for me to go too, but the onion said yes. The company agreed. Still…

‘Why am I so… nervous?’

Because I was going to be on TV? No, it didn’t feel like that.

“No, I don’t dislike it. For film promotions, this much is natural.”

“But last time you made a film, you avoided variety shows.”

“That was because I was sulking. They pushed me into a project I didn’t want, without asking my opinion.”

“I see. Then it’s good that you’re happy with Chalk and Spear.”

“Yes, thankfully.”

It was a trivial conversation, but the mood felt odd. Their expressions seemed stiff.

“Hyun-jae.”

“Yeah?”

“Got any gum?”

“Yeah, here.”

It felt awkward to call her “noona” with Yoo-joo present. Just then, Yoo-joo spoke up:

“By the way, didn’t you say on TV that you only agreed to this because of Hyun-jae oppa? Isn’t that a bit much?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“If the film does well, fine. But if it doesn’t, won’t the press blame Hyun-jae? They’ll say, ‘Why did he put top star Lee Joo-ah in such a film?’”

There was an edge to her words. I was about to say she shouldn’t worry, to change the subject, when Joo-ah calmly opened her mouth.

“Ah.”

Then, with a bright smile, she added:

“So Yoo-joo, you’re considering the possibility that a film Hyun-jae chose might not succeed