Chapter 259: Two month
By the ti Dayo returned ho that night, the city outside his window was already quiet.
He dropped his keys on the counter, loosened his jacket, and sat down without turning on the lights. The day had been long. Not exhausting, but heavy in the way responsibility always was. The set had gone smoothly. The crew was adjusting. The actors were finding rhythm. Everything, on the surface, was moving the way it should.
Yet his mind wasn’t on the set anymore.
He reached for his phone.
As expected, the news cycle had already shifted its attention toward him.
Articles. Short opinion pieces. Online discussions. Comnt sections filled with speculation.
He scrolled slowly the news.
"First-ti director attempts ambitious zombie project."
"Rookie filmmaker uses undebuted actors for high-risk production."
"Train of Busan remake raises eyebrows."
"First-ti director using a First-ti actors what would be the quality of the movie ?."
"Director Dayo said to own an agency and used only the actors in his agency who unfortunately are rookies can movies be shot like this ?."
"According to insiders Train of Busan is expected to cost over 15 Billion KRW and he made use of newbies?."
So of the headlines were neutral. Others weren’t.
He clicked one article at random and skimd through it. The writer didn’t attack him directly, but the doubts were clear between the lines. Questions about experience. Questions about judgnt. Questions about whether talent could truly co from nowhere.
The comnts below were harsher.
"Using rookies in a film like this is reckless."
"He’s brave, I’ll give him that, but brave doesn’t an competent."
"Feels like soone with money trying to play director."
"Yeah it feels that way after all he is rich and doesn’t have extensive knowledge of making movies."
"I dont know but i feel the movie would actual do well."
"Huh are you not seeing the news or what ?."
"LOL I am but if there’s one thing i have learnt by follownh Dayo that would be never to underestimate him. He had proven without doubt he is very telent in any field he dabble into."
"Hehe you can’t use any field snd compare to directing a movie there’s no such thing as luck in movie making there’s only experience and he has non."
"Alright ti would tell if Dayo is right or wrong but I belive he would co out triumph."
Dayo let out a small breath and leaned back.
This wasn’t new.
He had seen this pattern before. When he had stepped into athletics, they said he lacked pedigree. When he moved into production of music from DJ in his past life, they said he was overreaching. When he shifted again, they said he was wasting his ti.
Every stage of his life had started the sa way.
Doubt first. Noise second. Results last.
He didn’t feel anger. He didn’t feel the need to respond. If anything, there was a strange comfort in seeing it again. It reminded him that he was walking forward instead of standing still.
And thus pushed him to strive harder to clear their doubt beyond resealable doubt.
He locked his phone and stood up.
Later that evening, his phone rang again.
Min-Jae.
Dayo answered without hesitation.
"Are you still awake?" Min-Jae asked.
"Barely," Dayo replied. "What’s up?"
"You should co over. Yeobo made too much food again."
Dayo chuckled. "That’s not a real problem."
"Then co solve it."
Dayo hesitated for a second before agreeing. "Alright. Give
thirty minutes."
When he arrived, the atmosphere was relaxed. No talk of filming schedules or casting stress. Min-Jae leaned back comfortably, while Yeobo moved between the kitchen and living room with casual familiarity. They talked about small things. Food. Random stories. A few jokes about how tired everyone was.
It wasn’t long, but it helped.
Min-Jae kept him inford about what that the agencies laying low and doing nothing to this Dayo scoffed and said. "Even if they wanted to do sothing what could they do."
They discussed about other matters laughed and drank a bit.
When Dayo finally left and returned ho, he slept almost imdiately.
****
*TWO MONTHS LATER*
The next two months passed faster than expected.
Filming continued steadily.
Scenes were completed one after another. The crew adapted to the pace. The actors settled into their roles. There were no major disruptions, no disasters. Just the usual challenges that ca with a physically demanding production.
Minor injuries happened.
A scraped arm here. A twisted ankle there. One actor hit their head against a tal pole during a rushed scene and had to sit out for the rest of the day. Nothing serious, but enough to remind everyone that this wasn’t an easy project.
By the ti the schedule reached its midpoint, more than half of the film had already been shot.
And then sothing unexpected happened.
Silence.
The dia stopped talking.
There were no new articles. No trending discussions. No ongoing debates. The earlier skepticism had cooled into indifference.
Dayo noticed.
Silence was dangerous for his movie.
A project like this couldn’t survive on doubt alone, but it couldn’t survive on being forgotten either. For a first-ti director, montum mattered. Attention mattered.
That was when he decided to act after weeks of thinking.
Late one night, after reviewing footage with a small internal team, Dayo selected a short clip.
It wasn’t an action scene.
There were no zombies. No chaos. No blood.
It was a quiet mont inside the train.
A father sitting beside his daughter. The train rocking gently beneath them. The noise of distant movent outside the carriage. A brief exchange between them. Simple dialogue. Natural pacing. Subtle emotion.
This was the scene where the daughter looked teriffed and the father was trying to calm her down.
The scene was simple yet touching and it showed just enough to make people question and wonder what’s next? what’s happening?.
He approved the cut himself.
No watermark. No official statent. No announcent.
The clip went out quietly.
"A leak."
Atleast that’s what he wanted the audience to think.
By the ti Dayo set his phone down, the footage had already started spreading.
And ti would tell if it worked or not.
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