Return of the Genius Photographer

It took over 30 minutes for the chaotic atmosphere to settle.

“Uh, Photographer Kim Jin-goo…”

Jung Yoon-cheol, the chief PD of the modeling audition program Doshuko, came straight to the waiting room and began trying to persuade Kim Jin-goo…

“No matter what, isn’t this out of my league?”

“I’m asking you, please…”

“You should’ve at least given me a heads-up.”

Bullfrog (Kim Jin-goo) kept whining and putting the chief PD in a tough spot for quite a while.

Oh, by the way, I’m the one who gave him the nickname “Bullfrog.” It’s a nod to my natural knack for names.

It was because his puffy face and the way he huffed and puffed reminded me of a bullfrog.

“Photographer, after the shoot, I’d personally like to treat you to a grand drink.”

The chief PD said this, rubbing his hands together like a fly.

Doshuko was likely a fairly big production.

‘Probably…’

Just the grand prize was a whopping 100 million won, not to mention the cost of recruiting judges, panelists, and other additional production expenses…

‘They’re probably burning at least a billion won on this show…’

For someone to hold the position of “Chief PD” for such a program, it was likely that this guy had quite a bit of clout in the broadcasting industry.

It wasn’t a job you could win through some friendly card game or simply fall into by parachuting down from somewhere.

Watching someone like him bow his head repeatedly, almost begging Bullfrog to join, I could gauge Bullfrog’s standing here.

‘He must be really talented…’

At that moment, Bullfrog’s eyes sparkled as he asked back.

“Drinks? Where?”

It seemed that words like “grand,” “drink,” and “treat” had indeed struck a chord with Bullfrog.

“You know, right?”

Bullfrog’s eyes shifted.

“Won’t it be too much?”

“Oh, no, not at all…”

“Well, this is quite a dilemma.”

Bullfrog’s sly gaze lingered on my face for a moment…

“Well, it’s not like we just met yesterday, and with PD Jung Yoon-cheol asking so earnestly, I can’t just coldly refuse, right?”

The PD asked with an expectant tone.

“Then…?”

Bullfrog finally responded in a lofty tone, as if doing a grand favor.

“I’m doing this because of PD Jung Yoon-cheol.”

And so, while the chief PD practically groveled as though Bullfrog was some sort of noble lord…

「I should’ve listened to you, sir.」

I sent a private complaint to Photographer Jung Woong…

「Is something wrong?」

「This has me really worried.」

「I shouldn’t have sent him…」

「I’ll come over right now.」

「Should I head to the broadcast station?」

Photographer Jung Woong sent several replies in quick succession.

It seemed he was genuinely worried, like a parent letting their child go near deep water.

“Sigh…”

With a sigh, I sent a quick reply saying, ‘Thank you, but it’s fine,’ while glancing at Photographer Kang San.

— We Got You Disease —

— We’re gonna rule you like a sickness –

— In The Jungle —

— Inside This Jungle —

— Welcome To The Jungle —

— Welcome To The Jungle —

Photographer Kang San was still sitting with his earbuds jammed into his ears, completely immersed in the rock music, bobbing his head without a care in the world.

The volume was so loud that, despite sitting at a distance, I could make out every single lyric.

Even if I wasn’t sure, at this volume, I wondered if his ears might be at risk before long.

‘The jungle…’

Then, Photographer Kang San, fully absorbed in his rock music, started to hum the lyrics lowly, strumming an imaginary guitar.

“My gosh.”

Right. This place was a jungle.

***

Not long after Bullfrog calmed down, the pre-meeting officially began.

“So, everyone here will be assisting in the third mission of Doshuko and acting as judges,” explained the chief PD.

Photographer Kang San furrowed his brow slightly, questioning with some curiosity.

“You just said we’d be assisting in the mission. So, it’s not just judging?”

The chief PD nodded.

“We’ve divided all participants into three groups based on their scores from the second mission.”

“Hm?”

“The three groups are called White, Black, and Gray, and based on their last mission scores…”

The chief PD’s gaze swept over each of us who had been brought on as judging panel members.

“We’re planning to grant priority to each group, allowing them to choose the photographer they want to work with.”

Woojin let out a small hum.

“Ah…”

He’d grasped the intent of the production team.

In short, we were not only going to be judges but also… mentors.

‘Seems like they’re giving the highest-scoring group an advantage in this third mission as well…’

The third mission would likely involve working in teams with their chosen photographer…

‘This is tricky…’

Woojin quickly calculated the implications, casting sidelong glances at Kang San and Bullfrog.

‘So, they’re setting up competition between the panelists as well?’

Both of them were far ahead of him, not only in reputation but also in career experience.

It wasn’t that he was worried about competing with those two.

It was more a concern about how he’d be portrayed on the show and how that image would be received.

‘Probably…’

The contestants with the choice advantage would eagerly pick those two, leaving the lowest-ranked team to end up with him.

‘I’m definitely in for a tough time…’

The participants in the top group would show obvious delight after securing their preferred photographer.

Meanwhile…

The participants in the bottom group, reluctantly choosing him as if forced, would barely be able to hide their disappointment.

‘So, this is how they intended to portray me…’

They say it’s hard to read the depths of a broadcasting company’s intentions, even more than ten layers down into water, and now he understood why.

It was clear that he’d been cast because they needed the “weakest link” among the judging panel…

“Man, this is going to be a show…”

Then, with a smirk, Bullfrog turned his head slightly and looked at him.

“Looks like that side’s the dud…”

Then, turning to Kang San, he added.

“…and our side’s the jackpot.”

After finishing his comment, Bullfrog flashed a sly smile and asked Kang San, “Isn’t that right?”

To which Kang San replied.

“Was it Kim Jin-goo?”

Bullfrog promptly answered, “Yes!” and then launched into a spiel.

“Photographer Kang San, I’ve been wanting to meet you for a long time. You’ve been overseas for so long that I didn’t have a chance to introduce myself until now…”

That’s when Kang San interrupted him.

“Do you know me?”

“Pardon?”

“I don’t know you.”

Then he added.

“If you’re here to work, then let’s work.”

At that, the mood in the room dropped instantly, as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over it.

“It’s business, isn’t it?”

I nodded at Photographer Kang San’s rhetorical question.

‘That’s right…’

Yes, it’s business.

But maybe with a bit of emotion…

…just a little bit of emotion thrown in.

***

As soon as Woojin wrapped up the meeting, he returned to Photographer Jung Woong’s studio and laid out every detail he’d learned that day.

“Huh…” Jung Woong’s reaction didn’t stray from what Woojin had expected.

“You didn’t actually sign a contract to appear on the show, did you?”

“I did.”

“What? Why? You know exactly how they’re going to frame this…”

Woojin shrugged and replied quietly, “Well…”

Whatever image the production team intended to create of him, if the team he led managed to score the highest, that would be the end of it.

“Barring some freak disaster, I’ll probably end up with the lowest-ranked group, right?”

“Most likely…”

“My career and recognition are clearly lower than the other two photographers, so the participants will be disappointed…”

Photographer Jung Woong sighed. “The disappointed looks on those participants’ faces will get broadcast as they are. This could damage your image going forward… so why…”

Woojin countered, “I could win, couldn’t I?”

“What…?”

“It’ll make for a good story.”

Photographer Jung Woong let out a low “Ah…” and stared intently at Woojin.

“I’m not going to let the production team control how my image is presented. I’ll do my best to win and create a storyline that benefits my career.”

Woojin began lightly tapping his long fingers on the armrest of his chair.

‘Hmmm…’

With several photographers assigned to this major production…

…still…

As long as he was there, he’d be the main photographer.

Planned by Nam Woojin.

Scripted by Nam Woojin.

Directed by Nam Woojin.

Starring Nam Woojin.

“Title…”

Woojin said with a mischievous smile.

“The Underdog’s Rebellion sounds good.”

He was set on crafting a ‘comeback story’ that would see the weakest judge and the lowest-ranked team taking the top score, overturning everyone’s expectations.

“Good grief…” Photographer Jung Woong shook his head.

“Should I call you brave or reckless…?”

Either way, the dice had been cast.

***

The morning of the shoot had finally arrived.

“Oh…”

The moment I set foot in the studio where Doshuko was being filmed, I let out an involuntary gasp, feeling a bit like a country mouse seeing the big city for the first time.

The Doshuko set looked like a scaled-down version of a runway.

There was a runway stage slicing through the center, with the main judges’ podium at its end. On either side were the judges’ seats, and across from them, seats for the contestants…

“Ah, you’re here, Photographer Nam?”

As soon as I entered, the Chief PD, Jung Yoon-cheol, who’d been busy with equipment rehearsals, greeted me warmly.

It was almost hard to believe that this was the same person who intended to use me as the weakest judge to boost show ratings. His friendliness didn’t quite match his motives.

“Yes, good morning.”

The Chief PD gave a carefully rehearsed smile and gestured toward the panel seats in the distance with both hands.

“We’re almost finished with equipment rehearsals, so if you’d wait at your seat, please?”

With a short “Alright,” I headed to my designated spot.

As expected, Photographer Kang San had his earphones in.

But… unlike last time, he didn’t seem to have the volume blaring; no music was leaking out.

Just then, Bullfrog, who’d been intensely studying the script, noticed my presence and gave me a hard, unwelcoming look.

His expression practically shouted, “Aren’t you going to greet me?”

“Uh, good morning…?”

I gave a polite greeting to each of them, betting neither would bother acknowledging it.

True to form, both of them threw me a quick glance before turning away, as if on cue.

‘Should’ve guessed.’

Maybe it was the recent string of successes since my return, always receiving respect wherever I went,

But memories of the cold treatment I’d faced in my past life resurfaced—things I had almost forgotten.

The chilly receptions I’d endured back then, during my nameless days…

‘This is nothing…’

Compared to what I’d faced in the U.S., this was child’s play.

Namelessness, poverty, racial prejudice, poor English… back then, I had so many things that made me easy to be overlooked.

‘Just focus on the task…’

I was about to review the script a junior staff member had handed me when—

“Hey.”

Bullfrog suddenly called out.

“Yes?”

He didn’t even spare me a glance, keeping his eyes glued to the script.

“You think this is all just some joke? That it looks easy?”

“Pardon…?”

“Things go well a couple of times, and you start thinking you’ll just keep soaring?”

Maybe he’d had too much sun or skipped lunch?

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at…”

At that, Bullfrog finally looked me in the face.

“I’m saying, don’t start thinking you belong here just because you happen to be sitting next to me.”

He smirked.

“Sitting here doesn’t put us on the same level, does it?”

I answered immediately, “No, absolutely not.”

If anything, I’d be above you.

Then he gave a short laugh.

“At least you get it.”

Clearly, he’d taken my response as some kind of surrender.

“This job as a photographer—it’s not something you can just do with average passion.”

Was he about to launch into a lecture like a principal giving a school address?

“You need commitment.”

“Commitment…?”

“That’s right. Real, unshakable commitment.”

Finally, he looked at me and asked curtly, “What kind of commitment do you bring to this?”

Commitment, huh…

“Well…”

The idea of him lecturing me on commitment seemed laughable.

Sorry, but I’m someone who literally fell to my death taking photos.

‘All talk and no guts…’

Without hesitation, I answered—not really speaking to him, but to myself.

“I’d be willing to die twice for it.”

I wanted to turn the question back on him.

Would he be willing to die for photography like I was?

Did he have the right to speak of commitment?

At that, Kim Jin-goo scoffed.

“Look at you, quite the smooth talker…”

While he let out an obvious sneer, Photographer Kang San, on the other hand, asked me thoughtfully, “Twice?”

What? Hadn’t he been listening to music the whole time?

“Yes, it’s just…”

I couldn’t explain why I answered that way, so I kept it vague.

“That’s an unusual answer.”

And with that, Kang San turned away, clearly having lost interest again.

‘Wait… Now that I think about it…’

I realized then that our brief exchange was actually our first conversation, despite this being my third time meeting him.

“Hang in there.”

He even threw me what seemed like words of encouragement.

“Oh, uh, thanks…”

I replied in a somewhat bewildered tone, and Bullfrog, sensing an opening, jumped in.

“Uh, Photographer Kang, would you like some water?”

It seemed he was anxious to make some sort of connection with Kang San.

But Kang San just nodded as if he were still listening to music.

‘Um, Photographer Kang…’

The earphone cord is sticking out of your pocket, you know.

Bullfrog also noticed the loose earphone cord, which wasn’t connected to his MP3 player.

“For heaven’s sake…”

He frowned deeply, clearly annoyed.

“Who does he think he is…”

And just as the air among the panel members began to chill again—

“All right, let’s get started with the shoot!”

The Chief PD’s voice came booming out through the megaphone.