Los Angeles, California. Beverly Hills. Outside Jihoon's mansion porch.
Jihoon stood quietly on the porch, watching the car he had just stepped out of speed away into the night.
Its taillights flickered in the distance before vanishing as it turned the corner, leaving only the faint hum of the engine echoing down the street.
He lifted his gaze to the night sky, blinking at the stars that glittered faintly above.
If this had been a scene in a Korean drama, Jihoon's background music now would probably be "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star."
It was that kind of moment—awkward, misplaced, and strangely sentimental.
Scratching his head, Jihoon let out a small sigh.
The whole night hadn't gone the way he expected.
The ridiculous JAV-style NTR scenario he had half-joked about in his head earlier?
Not even close.
He shook his head to scatter the absurd images from his mind and stepped back inside his mansion.
And just like that, the night came to an end.
...
The next morning, as expected, the entertainment section of nearly every major outlet in Los Angeles exploded with coverage of the 'SAW' premiere.
Headlines blared across websites, newspapers, and TV broadcasts, and the buzz was louder than Jihoon could have imagined.
The main reason? Two names: Stan Lee and Leonardo DiCaprio.
Ordinarily, just one of them showing up at an event would've been enough to dominate the headlines.
But the fact that both appeared on the same red carpet? That was a media goldmine.
Reporters swarmed on the coincidence, and while some were tempted to speculate further, the unspoken rule of the industry kept them in check—no outlet wanted to risk sabotaging a major premiere unless there was outright hostility between production companies.
And since there wasn't, the coverage remained overwhelmingly positive.
Even so, Stan Lee's offhand mention of the MCU concept during the Q&A became its own talking point.
Fans and critics alike buzzed about the possibilities of a shared cinematic universe, and though the press didn't run with it as the primary headline, the seed had been planted.
For Jihoon, this wave of publicity was nothing short of perfect.
The buzz alone was enough to push 'SAW's' box office momentum to new heights.
And that was without even factoring in the dedicated SCP Foundation fanbase he had cultivated online—this surge of mainstream attention was icing on the cake.
The results spoke for themselves.
Riding on the premiere's momentum, 'SAW' easily surpassed the box office performance of his previous film, 'GET OUT'.
Opening weekend numbers rolled in:
Friday on the opening day: $20 million.
Saturday: A healthy weekend spike brought in $25 million.
Sunday: As expected, a slight dip occurred, but it still held strong with $15 million.
That gave 'SAW' a domestic total of $60 million across three days—nearly 70% of its global box office share.
International markets chipped in an additional $27 million, bringing the global opening weekend total to $87 million.
For a low-budget horror film, the numbers were staggering. Jihoon couldn't help but grin when he received the report the following Monday morning at JH Pictures.
The analysis team had already compiled not just the weekend performance, but also the projections for the film's first full week. Holding the neatly bound report in his hands, Jihoon look through it.
"Mara, don't be too excited just yet. This is just the beginning. The key is whether we can maintain the daily box office." Jihoon said calmly.
"Yes, yes, of course! We must!" Mara exclaimed, her head bobbing so eagerly it seemed as if her excitement alone might keep the revenue flowing.
It wasn't hard to understand why she was brimming with energy.
This was only the second film she had ever worked on that promised her a bonus. The dividends wouldn't arrive until the end of the year, but the company's breakneck pace gave her plenty to dream about.
In just a single month, two films had already been released, with three more to come in upcoming months.
Mara could already picture the numbers stacking up, her bonuses growing larger with each project.
For the first time, she was earning money entirely on her own—without leaning on her family's wealth or influence.
That thought filled her with a sense of pride and accomplishment, making every late night and stressful moment feel worthwhile.
And the numbers in front of her were staggering.
The budget for 'SAW'—including promotional costs—was only $2.5 million.
Yet its first day alone had brought in $20 million at the box office, ensuring massive profits right out of the gate.
In fact, within the month's releases, Saw held the record for the highest-grossing opening day with that $20 million figure. The runner-up, Sony's film 21, trailed noticeably behind.
Jihoon watched Mara practically vibrating with excitement and gave a faint shake of his head, amused by her youthful enthusiasm.
Then, turning back to the report, he methodically reviewed the analysis.
Page by page, the projections became clearer.
According to the team, the momentum from the opening weekend carried immense weight.
Naturally, they expected a dip in the following days.
The projection estimated that 'SAW' would close its first week with $70–75 million in box office revenue.
Extending the curve, the team predicted a total gross of around $280 million by the end of its run.
Even by conservative calculations, that translated to Jihoon's highest return on investment to date.
With a production cost of only $1.2 million and another $1.3 million spent on advertising and promotions, the ROI was astronomical—nearly 11,000% before production deductions and an astounding 99.1% profit margin.
Few in the industry could boast such a result.
Yet Jihoon knew better than to let the numbers alone sweep him away. H
e understood that this "success" was not purely organic.
Variables had elevated the results—chief among them the SCP website, which had become a massive yet costly marketing tool.
He knew the sharp spike was partly engineered, the result of heavy human intervention and targeted strategy.
That was why he treated the projections with cautious optimism.
The team's estimates of $250–280 million were credible, but Jihoon reminded himself that the market was unpredictable.
No matter how detailed the analysis, the audience ultimately decided the outcome.
Still, he was aware of one undeniable advantage: the theater revenue-sharing system.
In Hollywood, cinemas typically operate on a tiered model.
Producers usually take 70–90% of the revenue during the first weekend of release, with powerhouse studios like Disney sometimes demanding as much as 95%.
The split then declines week by week—60–70% in the second week, 45–60% in the third, and sometimes as low as 25–45% after the fourth. Rarely does it fall below 25%.
There were, of course, exceptions.
Monumental films like The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King managed to maintain high shares for longer periods.
Beloved IPs with proven track records earned this treatment, as did directors with legendary reputations—names like James Cameron, Steven Spielberg, and Christopher Nolan.
Remarkably, 'SAW' was already being given similar treatment.
Thanks to Jihoon's previous accolades—including his Oscar and Cannes recognition—and the steady box office buzz, theater chains had agreed to grant the HCU franchise a generous split: 85% in the first week, 75% in the second, with a gradual 10% decrease each week thereafter.
For a low-budget horror film turned blockbuster, this was nothing short of a golden ticket.
Just as Jihoon was quietly contemplating his next promotional strategy to push the box office even higher, he noticed Mara suddenly standing in front of his desk.
Her eyes were blinking rapidly, sparkling as if she were staring at a mountain of gold bars piled neatly before her.
"Boss!! Can I trade with you?!" she burst out, her face lit up with an excitement that could barely be contained.
Jihoon blinked, momentarily stunned by her choice of words. "Huh? Trade? What are you talking about?" He set down the papers in his hand and lifted his gaze to meet hers, still puzzled.
"It's like this…" Mara began, her voice filled with enthusiasm. But instead of calmly explaining, her entire body seemed to jump into action.
She gestured dramatically, her arms sweeping through the air, her posture straightening like a general addressing his troops.
In fact, she looked so intense that for a moment Jihoon couldn't help but compare her stance to Douglas MacArthur himself—minus the iconic pipe dangling from the corner of his mouth.
Jihoon's lips slowly parted, his mouth opening wider and wider as he listened.
His mind buzzed in shock, unable to process where this conversation was going.