From A Producer To A Global Superstar-Chapter 267: Family outing while the internet....

Dayo woke up to warmth. Something was different.

He woke up not to the sharp, rushed mornings he was used to, but the quiet kind the kind that made you want to stay still for a few seconds longer. The house was alive in a gentle way. Soft footsteps. Low voices. The faint sound of someone laughing down the hallway.

Family.

He had not still gotten used to their presence here, but he was enjoying it.

He sat up slowly, rubbing his face, and for a moment he simply breathed. Then it came back to him.

He smiled.

The day off.

He remembered it clearly the looks on his workers’ faces the night before when he told them there would be no work today. Confusion at first. Then excitement. Then gratitude.

"You’re serious?"

"Boss, are you sure?"

"Thank you, thank you!"

Some of them had laughed. Some had bowed repeatedly. A few had praised him like he’d done something extraordinary.

Dayo chuckled softly to himself.

He knew the truth. He hadn’t done it out of generosity. He’d done it because his family was here. Because for once, work could wait.

But an off was an off.

He swung his legs out of bed and started his morning routine. Shower. Cold water on his face. Stretch. A few minutes of silence where his mind usually ran wild, but today, it didn’t.

When he came out, the house was already stirring.

Deborah’s voice echoed faintly. Janet laughed. His mother was speaking to someone probably his father. Sharon’s footsteps moved briskly from room to room.

Dayo went straight to the kitchen.

He had told them when they arrived: While you’re in Korea, you’ll eat Korean food. No shortcuts or compromises.

They all accepted. After all, Dayo hadn’t cooked any meal so far that they didn’t enjoy, so they allowed him to do his thing.

He rolled up his sleeves.

Rice washed carefully. Broth simmered slowly. Vegetables sliced with precision. He prepared samgyetang, rich and fragrant, along with side dishes kimchi, seasoned spinach, marinated beef. He moved easily, confidently. Cooking was one of the few things that calmed him the same way music and silence did.

By the time the aroma filled the house, people were already drifting in.

"Oh my God," Deborah said, eyes wide. "What is that smell?"

Janet danced into the kitchen. "I knew it. I knew he’d cook."

His mother smiled from the doorway. "You didn’t have to do all this."

"I wanted to," Dayo replied simply, with a smirk on his face.

His mother could have assisted him, but she wouldn’t. She still held a little grudge that everyone preferred Dayo’s food to hers. Dayo just shook his head.

Soon everyone was awake. Music played lightly in the background. Deborah danced around the table. Janet spun dramatically like she was on stage. His father shook his head, amused. Sharon laughed, shaking her head.

While Jeffery and Dayo were talking boys’ talk.

For a brief moment, everything was perfect.

After breakfast, as plates were cleared and laughter lingered, Dayo stretched and said, "Okay. We’re in Korea."

Everyone looked at him.

"So?" Deborah asked.

"So do you all want to see what is actually going on in Korea?" he continued.

The answer came instantly.

"Yes!"

The loudest of course were Janet and Deborah.

They rushed to get dressed. Outfits chosen. Shoes swapped. Bags checked. Dayo watched from the side, smiling, while quietly pulling out his phone.

Research.

Iconic places. Places families loved. Places worth remembering.

He bookmarked locations. Saved routes. Planned the day carefully.

Then, without thinking twice, he turned his phone to Do Not Disturb.

No calls.

No notifications.

Nothing.

He wanted to enjoy this rare time with his family without being disturbed.

He didn’t know that at the exact same time

The internet was catching fire.

It started quietly with a short video. One with surprisingly poor quality.

The video played on a familiar set—this was the set of Train to Busan, the exact moment Dae-Seok fell. The whole filming.

At first, people thought it was just behind-the-scenes footage. Accidents happened. Everyone knew that.

Then the audio played, with Dayo walking towards him and—

Dayo’s voice, sharp and angry.

"How can you be this useless?"

"I give you a chance and this is how you repay me?"

"You injure yourself on set? Are you stupid?"

He ranted continuously, not giving the person a chance to talk or explain.

The video cut before anything else could be seen.

No context.

No explanation.

No follow-up.

Just a video of Dayo shouting and belittling his actor.

People watched it once.

Then again.

Then—

BOOM 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

It exploded very fast, and the reason was simple Dayo and his movie had been on the lips of the internet even before he started filming.

"Is this real?"

"That’s harsh."

"I thought he was different."

"Yeah, he’s just like the rest."

"I don’t know, I find it hard to believe. The video quality started good and then it turned bad immediately."

Someone reposted it with captions.

So this is how the renowned Director Dayo treats his actors?

Comments poured in.

"He fell down. He was clearly hurt."

"That’s verbal abuse."

"I just saw him in a movie. I didn’t know he was like this."

"This industry is rotten."

Some tried to be logical.

"The lighting looks off."

"This might be edited."

"Where’s the rest of the clip?"

But logic drowned quickly almost intentionally.

Blogs picked it up.

Headlines followed.

FAMOUS PRODUCER CAUGHT BERATING INJURED ACTOR

BULLYING BEHIND THE SCENES?

IS THIS WHO HE REALLY IS?

The narrative shifted fast.

"If this is how he treats his actors, I’m not watching the movie."

"Cancel him."

"He’s worse than the others."

By noon, opinion pieces appeared. By evening, so-called insiders claimed they "always knew."

***

Meanwhile—

Dayo laughed as Deborah dragged him toward a souvenir shop.

"Brother, look at this!"

He smiled at street performers. Took photos. Explained landmarks. Ate snacks from stalls.

Completely unaware.

His phone remained silent in his pocket.

Notifications piled up.

Messages unanswered.

Fire spread.

And Dayo had no idea that by the time he turned his phone back on, the world would already have decided who he was.