Life is Easier If You're Handsome-Chapter 249
Faking a “leak” as a marketing strategy had been used many times before.
And every time, public opinion was always the same:
—What kind of leak is this? Got shot in the head or something? lol
—You can totally tell it was released on purpose.
So naturally, people assumed this Musashi leak video was one of those.
But then—
—Wait, this was uploaded raw? Nothing edited or anything?
—This is viral marketing? Doesn’t seem like it at all.
—With Kim Donghu in it, why even bother with a leak strategy? Just putting out a teaser would’ve blown up anyway.
The more people watched the video, the more strange it felt.
It didn’t follow the usual pattern of a "leak."
Normally, these videos are blurry or shaky—
Because the goal is to stir curiosity.
They’re not supposed to show everything clearly.
But this video wasn’t like that—it was way too clean.
There was no room to even wonder who was in it or what it was about.
—Is this Kim Donghu doing a sword dance... is this Musashi?
—It’s a hot topic in Korea and Japan, with Kim Donghu in the lead.
—Why is this blowing up all of a sudden?
People figured it out immediately.
—Looks good, honestly.
—Kim Donghu’s finally going back to his main gig.
—He’s a boxer for sure.
—But why make a comeback out of nowhere like this?
Of course, nobody was really bothered.
To them, the only thing that mattered was that Kim Donghu was in it.
And contrary to what the Japanese production companies had hoped—
—If it’s well-made, I’m definitely watching.
From a global standpoint, it really didn’t matter who played Musashi.
As long as the movie was entertaining, that was enough.
The fact that it had leaked onto YouTube only confirmed one thing:
It was definitely getting an international release.
Maybe that’s why—
The Musashi leak video racked up millions of views in an instant.
“This can’t be real!”
Japan was in an uproar.
A film that was supposed to fail had gone viral and was on track to become a massive hit?
Without spending a dime on promotion,
Musashi was now burned into the world’s memory.
And it was the very spy sent to sabotage it who pulled it off.
Though calling it a “success” felt ironic—
“It’s blowing up!”
“Overseas audiences are loving it—now even Japanese studios are rethinking things!”
“Great! Just great! Where the hell is the idiot who uploaded that video?!”
But that wasn’t the immediate concern.
The main goal now was to drag out the one responsible and tear him apart.
That was the priority.
“He’s gone dark.”
“What?”
“He got paid, fulfilled the contract... and then just vanished.”
Even that wasn’t going as planned.
This wasn’t just handing the dog the porridge—it was like cooking ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) up a feast and presenting it on a silver platter.
Still, even so—
“Should we suggest producing Musashi in Japan now?”
“Are you insane?”
There was nothing they could really do anymore.
***
After the Musashi leak exploded,
we were honestly caught off guard by the sudden burst of publicity.
‘The movie won’t even be ready until next year, at the earliest.’
And yet we’re being pushed to start promotion in May of this year?
That didn’t sit right.
If it were a game, you could drop a trailer and wait—
but movies didn’t work like that.
That made things more complicated.
So we decided to just keep our mouths shut.
“We’re really not going to say anything?”
“Yes. No point throwing more fuel on a fire when there’s nothing left to burn.”
In my opinion, promoting anything more would be risky.
We had just started filming, and there wasn’t any finished product to show.
‘Revealing too much too soon kills the mystery.’
This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.
Releasing details from a movie that hadn’t even been properly shot yet was a mistake.
You’re supposed to build anticipation right up until the theater release.
So letting too much info leak early was deadly.
‘We already caught the spy and figured out who ordered it.’
At this point, there was no reason to keep playing into their little games.
We were lucky the outcome turned out this well—
it could’ve ended in disaster.
“It’s best to be satisfied with the attention we got and focus now on building the set and planning the rest.”
“If that’s Donghu-san’s opinion, I fully support it. Since we’re filming in Korea, you probably understand the situation better than I do.”
With Director Kiryuu’s final words, the meeting ended.
The main set shooting would start after the set was built,
which meant—suddenly, I had a block of free time.
‘Guess I’m getting another break.’
To be honest, things had been insanely busy up to now.
From Tarzan to boxing—
everything required heavy promotion and interviews.
Flying two or three times a day had become the norm.
The time zone changes had numbed me so much that I was basically immune.
To be precise, I just closed my eyes and decided it was night,
and opened them and told myself it was morning.
“...But just resting feels like a waste, too.”
And going on a variety show?
That gave me pause as well.
I was already in over ten commercials,
and my face was everywhere in the media.
To add a show appearance on top of that... didn’t feel right.
‘Unless... it’s something really personal. Something... day-to-day.’
Something about my everyday life?
That thought lit up my mind.
Why hadn’t I thought of it sooner?
‘I could just do YouTube, couldn’t I?’
***
—I'm thinking of starting a YouTube channel. Would you be able to help me with that?
As soon as Kim Donghu said that, the agency CEO nodded.
“YouTube? Yeah, why not? Sounds good. Let’s get our team on it.”
—Yes, I’ll send over the footage. I’d appreciate it if you could help with the editing and styling.
“Of course. Leave it to me.”
—Thanks, Seokho-hyung.
With that, the call ended.
“Sorry about that. I had to take that call, haha. Where were we again?”
Choi Seokho was about to resume the meeting.
At that moment—
“Did you just say Kim Donghu is starting a YouTube channel?”
“Wait, hold on. Wasn’t there something far more important that just came out of your phone, Mr. CEO?”
“Not the company channel, but a personal one? As in, not just promo clips?”
“So you’re saying he’s setting up a personal channel that could take on all kinds of product placements?”
The corporate execs in the meeting room all perked up, eyes gleaming.
“Uh... what?”
Choi Seokho was clearly caught off guard.
“Come on now, Mr. Choi. After all the years we’ve worked together—don’t tell me you’re leaving us out of this?”
“Look, I don’t care what else happens, our brand name better be on Donghu’s video.”
“What’s the first video going to be? We don’t need a big placement—just a light feature would be fine...”
The decision-makers immediately tossed aside the original agenda
and started calculating how much to invest in “Kim Donghu’s YouTube channel.”
“How about we do it like a broadcasting station—include sponsor credits at the end?”
“It’s technically a personal channel, but not really personal... I like that idea. I’m fully on board.”
“Donghu may be a single individual, but he’s not just one man. We have to go all in.”
It suddenly ballooned into something huge.
I hadn’t meant for that to happen.
‘I’ve seen this exact situation before, haven’t I?’
While Choi Seokho was still processing the déjà vu—
“If it’s a vlog, does that mean it starts with him waking up in the morning?”
“If there’s an editor and stylist, does that mean Donghu’s carrying the camera himself?”
The execs were building the conversation themselves, step by step.
Seokho watched as the whole operation seemed to run itself, clearly overwhelmed.
‘I mean, they’re offering money. I can’t exactly say no... And in the end, it’s all Donghu’s call anyway.’
These days, even if a channel was “personal,”
everyone gratefully accepted PPLs.
Naturally, Seokho assumed Donghu would too.
I’m fine with it.
But shouldn’t we know what kind of video I’m making first before we take any product placements?
Leaving behind that slightly bewildered message from Donghu—
“Mr. Choi! Come back and sit down! We’ve got a lot more to say now that YouTube’s on the table!”
“Can we do collabs too? What’s the plan? I want to hear specifics!”
“Let’s talk over army stew downstairs—great food down there.”
The meeting resumed.
‘...We’ve already been in this meeting for four hours.’
And now it was starting all over again.
The never-ending hell train of meetings had begun.
***
Early June.
A random video dropped on YouTube.
People who saw it immediately rushed to their online communities.
[Breaking!!! Looks like Kim Donghu just launched a YouTube channel?]
—(video link)
—Looks like he’s actually filming it by himself LOLLLLL
—This guy’s insane insane insane
—Is this real??
—Most people put tons of thought into their first video, trying to make it all cinematic
—But this guy just straight up films himself waking up?
The video itself was incredibly simple.
A man holding a self-cam, waking up in the morning.
Making breakfast, going for a walk, working out.
A straightforward glimpse into his daily life.
It was, in every sense, a casual vlog.
But the key detail was—it was Kim Donghu.
[How many video topics does Kim Donghu even have? Boxing, piano, violin... his social circle, all his stories...]
—This guy has way too much content potential.
—But the vlog outro was clearly done by the agency, lol
—So the video’s all him, and the editing is done by someone else? Is that the concept?
—Who knows, we need more videos to tell. So drop more, please.
—Hard agree
—So down for this
—Instant sub
The firestorm had started.
[Foreign fans found out about Kim Donghu’s YouTube LOLLLLLL]
(image of comments section)
—The English comments are wild LOL
—Is this the modern-day life of Tarzan or what LOL
—Even crazier is how fast the sub count’s climbing
—Every refresh adds like 50k, it’s real
Roughly five hours after the channel launched—
[Kim Donghu hits 1 million subscribers in 5 hours, earns Gold Play Button]
—Starts his YouTube life with a gold plaque, sheeeeesh~~~~
—This is legendary
—No joke, this guy’s moves are totally unpredictable. You kinda have to subscribe
—Grand Donghu... is it you again?
Kim Donghu’s YouTube channel hit one million subscribers.
This was the true start of his YouTube era.
