From A Producer To A Global Superstar-Chapter 253: Meeting again?
While the industry was still noisy with speculation, confusion, and endless arguments online, the real shock was happening behind closed doors. π³ππππππππ πππ.π°π π¦
The Top Five agencies held an emergency meeting.
It was not announced. No assistants were allowed inside. Phones were placed on the table and turned face down. The room itself was sealed, thick curtains drawn, soundproof walls doing their job.
Five men sat around the long table.
These were not producers or managers.
They were decision makers.
At the head of the table, one of them spoke first.
"So," he said slowly, "does anyone here actually know how Dayo completed his cast?"
Silence followed.
One by one, the others shook their heads.
"No confirmed information," another replied.
"We blocked all official routes."
"No agency cooperation."
"No freelance access."
"No foreign loopholes."
A third man frowned.
"Then how did he do it?"
"I think heβs bluffing," someone said.
"A cast announcement without names means nothing."
"That was my first thought too," another added.
"But I sent people to investigate."
The room went quiet again.
"They couldnβt get close," the man continued.
"Security is tight. Too tight. No leaks. No extras wandering around. No chatter."
"Thatβs strange," the first man said.
"If it was a bluff, he wouldnβt need that level of secrecy."
Someone else leaned forward.
"There is something happening that we donβt know about."
Eyes narrowed.
"What are you suggesting?" one of them asked.
"Iβm saying Dayo prepared ahead of us," the man replied.
"Long before we blocked him."
The tension in the room increased.
Another voice cut in.
"We should also talk about V-Rex."
All eyes shifted.
The VIREX CEO stiffened in his seat.
"Why would you allow one of your actresses to leave?" someone demanded.
"We agreed on a unified block."
The VIREX CEO exhaled slowly, choosing his words carefully.
"She was not getting roles," he said.
"She saw an opportunity and took it."
"That cost us face," another man said sharply.
"You donβt let a banner slip once itβs raised."
VIREX hated losing face.
Everyone knew that.
The CEOβs jaw tightened, but he kept his composure.
"It was a mistake," he admitted.
"But it does not change the reality. A movie without a visible cast cannot move forward."
One of the men scoffed.
"Youβre assuming he doesnβt have one."
"Thatβs exactly the problem," another replied.
"We donβt know."
Silence returned.
Frustration was visible now.
They had power.
They had influence.
But for the first time in a long while, they were reacting instead of controlling.
Which was a huge slap on their face.
"Sooner or later," one of them said, "he will have to shoot outdoors."
"Thatβs right," another agreed.
"You canβt make a movie entirely indoors."
"When that happens, weβll know," the first man concluded.
"Until then, keep your eyes open. Your ears too."
No decisions were made.
The meeting ended without resolution.
For the Top Five, that alone was unsettling.
***
Elsewhere, Dayo was not thinking about meetings or speculation.
He was working.
Inside his office, he sat with Jang Wook beside him, several screens open, documents spread across the table.
"All contracts confirmed," Jang Wook said.
"No delays."
Dayo nodded.
"Good."
He opened his laptop and began typing an email.
The subject line was simple.
Production Schedule and Preparation Guidelines
He addressed every actor and actress directly.
Clear instructions.
Clear expectations.
Training schedules.
Script reading deadlines.
Physical conditioning requirements.
Confidentiality clauses.
Arrival dates.
Location protocols.
No unnecessary words.
No motivational speech.
Just work.
Jang Wook watched him quietly.
"Youβre starting training earlier than usual," Jang Wook noted.
"I want them ready," Dayo replied.
"No excuses After all I want to shock the world."
He sent the email.
One by one, confirmations began to arrive.
Understood.
Received.
Will comply.
Ready.
Dayo closed the laptop.
"Thatβs it," Jang Wook said.
"From here, itβs execution."
"Yes," Dayo replied.
"Eight weeks."
Jang Wook smiled faintly.
"Eight weeks to start a storm."
Dayo stood up.
Outside, the noise continued.
Online arguments.
Industry whispers.
Doubt.
Mockery.
Curiosity.
But inside the building, everything was already moving.
The actors were preparing.
The crew was assembling.
The sets were being finalized quietly.
For Dayo, there was no excitement left.
Only focus.
The movie was no longer an idea.
It was no longer a plan.
It was about to begin.
And when it did, the industry would no longer be guessing.
While Dayo was going through production files on his laptop, his phone rang.
He glanced at the screen and paused.
Mum.
He picked up immediately.
"Hello, Mum."
"Dayo, how are you doing?" her voice came through, calm as always.
"Iβm fine, Mum. How is everyone at home?"
Before she could answer properly, another voice cut in from the background.
"Dayo!"
He smiled. He already knew who it was.
"Janet," he said. "Whatβs going on?"
"You never told me you were making a movie," she said quickly.
"You only said you were going to Korea for work. You didnβt say you were producing a film."
Dayo chuckled lightly.
"I didnβt think it was that important to mention yet."
"Thatβs not fair," Janet replied. "I saw it online."
"Sorry, my baby girl," Dayo said. "Iβll tell you next time, okay?"
There was a short pause, then she said,
"I want to come to Korea."
Dayo leaned back in his chair.
"Youβre still in school."
"Ah," she groaned playfully.
"Once youβre done with school," he continued, "Iβll let you know. Iβll probably bring you over."
"Really?" her tone changed instantly.
"Yes," he said. "Really."
"Yay!" she shouted.
Their mother sighed softly in the background.
"Dayo, you spoil her too much."
He smiled.
"If I donβt spoil her, who will?"
They talked a little moreβabout home, about Jeffrey being away for a while, about sending regards to everyone. Nothing complicated. Nothing urgent.
Before ending the call, his mother said,
"Take care of yourself, Dayo."
"I will, Mum."
He hung up, placed the phone beside him, and turned back to his screen.
Work resumed immediately.
The movie wasnβt waiting for anyone.
