Chapter 2: Is the Gwang in Gwanggong from (mad) or (feral)?
There was this weird drama.
No one had watched it, but somehow, everyone knew about it. A cast filled with top-tier alphas, betas, and omegas, a director with a string of hit dramas, and even a star writer—and yet, it couldn’t even surpass the national anthem in viewership ratings. It had everything: murder, kidnapping, ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) confinement—every shocking trope crammed in—and still, the public met it with cold indifference. All it earned was a warning from the Broadcasting Commission. That ill-fated drama was Madman.
The one person who watched that drama all the way to the end on public broadcast—where it made history with a rating in the zero percent range—was me. At least, no one else around me had.
“You have a meeting with the Strategic Management Division at nine, and lunch with the board of directors. In the afternoon—”
“Push the lunch.”
“You’ve already rescheduled it once, sir... Understood, CEO.”
It still tried to follow the trends in its own way. The alpha protagonist had everything except for one thing—emotion. He was the kind of guy who mistook obsession for love. Because of his omega-phobia, he kept latching onto betas, until he finally met one fated beta who made him realize what true love was... It was one of those typical romance plots.
But maybe it leaned too ambiguous with the genre. Maybe that’s just hindsight talking, but honestly, I think that was the biggest reason it flopped.
The alpha protagonist wasn’t just fierce—he was too fierce. To the point where it made you question, Is that really love...? His obsession with the beta was so violently one-sided it was terrifying. The title Madman couldn’t have been more fitting. Naturally, the drama was filled with an endless stream of scenes that were way too extreme to show on TV. That, I think, was its fatal flaw.
“Bring Taehyun for lunch. I want him there.”
“...It’s Daehyun, sir.”
“Whatever.”