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Chapter 159 - The Start of HCU

Jihoon calmly set down his cup of tea, the rim clicking softly against the saucer. He looked at Jim Gianopulos with a relaxed smile and said, "Jim, you do know Marvel is starting its cinematic universe franchise, right?"

Jim raised an eyebrow, a bit confused by the shift in topic. "Yeah... I'm aware," he replied slowly.

Though Marvel hadn't made any official announcements, insiders like them—people within the so-called "Hollywood Big Six" circle—could easily read between the lines.

Marvel might've sold off a few characters like Spider-Man to Sony, or the X-Men to Fox, but they still retained rights to many others.

And with Iron Man already in production, it was clear they were laying the groundwork for something much bigger.

Executives like Jim, who had decades of experience navigating the studio system, could see the signs. The industry grapevine was fast and sharp—legal filings, casting decisions, internal buzz.

Nothing truly stayed hidden in Hollywood. Still, despite all that insight, Jim wasn't quite following Jihoon's connection between Marvel's plans and the relentless push for GET OUT's Oscar campaign.

Noticing Jim's puzzled expression, Jihoon chuckled softly and leaned forward. "Let me ask you this—between Marvel's upcoming universe and our Horror Cinematic Universe… which one do you think has the potential for a broader audience?"

Jim paused.

Something clicked. A light went on behind his eyes.

This wasn't just about awards or critical acclaim—Jihoon was playing a much longer game.

GET OUT wasn't meant to stand alone; it was a strategic move toward something greater.

It was about legitimacy. It was about laying the foundation for a cinematic universe that could rival the empire Marvel was trying to build. And the key to it all was attention—and mystery.

Jim stood up, suddenly animated. "Brilliant! Jihoon, I have to say—you're a damn strategist!" He laughed in disbelief, clapping his hands.

Peli and Stephen burst into laughter at Jim's enthusiasm. The way he reacted was more like a kid who just figured out the twist ending of a magic trick.

"Alright, alright, sit down," Jihoon said, tugging lightly at Jim's sleeve, still smiling. "Let's not get carried away. We're just getting started."

He leaned back, his tone shifting to something more serious.

"Look, if we want the Horror Cinematic Universe to surpass Marvel, we can't just follow in their footsteps. We need our own approach. A smarter one. A darker one. And yeah, it's going to be a long, uphill grind."

Stephen nodded in agreement. "He's right. Marvel's got decades of content. They've got iconic characters with generations of fanbases behind them—Iron Man, Thor, Cap. We can't outdo them by playing their game."

Peli added, "Exactly. Marvel has a whole god-damn comic library to draw from and we don't have that luxury."

"What we do have is originality—and if we play it right, we can carve out a new kind of cinematic universe. One that doesn't rely on capes and powers, but on fear, mystery, and mythology."

Jim leaned forward again, this time more focused than ever. "So what's the next move?"

Jihoon sat back, took a breath, then began to explain—slowly and clearly, choosing his words with care. "First, we need the film to win at least one award. That's the key step. But I want to be clear—the goal was never just the accolades."

Jim raised an eyebrow, listening intently.

"This whole push," Jihoon continued, "was about creating a smokescreen."

"I wanted to build a sense of mystery around the film—to get people talking, wondering what's really going on beneath the surface. And at the same time, I wanted to wrap it all in the elegant poise of golden artistry."

"An Oscar win would give GET OUT that kind of artistic weight," Jihoon said. "That kind of recognition tells audiences, 'This isn't just another horror flick.' It wraps the whole film in a layer of legitimacy."

"A legitimacy that comes from an Academy Award could give the film real momentum—it puts the spotlight on it and draws the audience's attention."

Jim nodded slowly, finally beginning to see the bigger picture.

"And with that kind of momentum," Jihoon continued, "we capture our initial fanbase—especially the people from the horror community."

"Think about it: horror fans see a film in their favrouite genre winning an Oscar… that alone grabs their attention. Suddenly, they're not just interested—they need to see it in theaters. That's where the box office numbers come from."

"Then, of course, we support that with a solid promotion strategy."

Jim gave a slight nod, his eyes narrowed as he considered the potential.

"And then," Jihoon added, a spark of excitement creeping into his tone, "comes the real hook."

He leaned forward now, mirroring Jim's posture.

"By the time they've watched the entire film and reach the end credits—boom. We hit them with a post-credit scene. A teaser. Just enough to plant the idea that this film is only the beginning. That's when we reveal the Horror Cinematic Universe."

Jim raised an eyebrow. Jihoon could tell he had his full attention now.

"With the launch of our own cinematic universe, we don't just ride on the success of one film—we create a movement. And with that, comes a loyal, growing fanbase. But here's the thing: it's not enough to just have fans. We have to cultivate them. Educate them. Just like what Marvel and DC did with their comics."

He took a breath and continued with conviction, "We build our own community. A fandom that understands the rules, the themes, the mythology behind our horror universe."

"We give them something to latch onto—characters, lore, theories, even Easter eggs. That's how we create long-term engagement, not just weekend box office spikes."

Jim leaned back in his seat, letting out a thoughtful breath. The wheels were clearly turning in his head.

"Okay," he said slowly, a smile creeping in. "Now I see where you're going with this. I'll make sure the board understands exactly what you're trying to do—and that they're on board with your strategy."

But Jihoon wasn't done. He leaned in a little, voice calm but firm.

"Jim, you've got to make sure they really understand this."

"Because let's be honest—horror films don't have the same massive reach as superhero blockbusters. We're not aiming to go head-to-head with Marvel, and frankly, we shouldn't try to."

He took a moment, then added with a slight shrug, "It's not that we can't compete... I just don't see the value in doing so."

Peli, who had been quietly listening, tilted her head and cut in, her curiosity piqued. "What do you mean, Jihoon?"

Jihoon gave him a knowing smile. "We don't have the luxury of throwing $200 million at a single film and expecting it to work. Our target audience is more niche—more focused. We're not going after everyone; we're speaking directly to fans of the genre."

He sat back slightly, letting the idea sink in before continuing. "But that's actually our advantage. Our strength lies in smaller, smarter budgets. For example, look at what Peli did with Paranormal Activity—no flashy effects, no big-name stars, just a strong concept, solid execution, and a haunting atmosphere. It cost next to nothing and made a fortune."

Jim nodded slowly, clearly thinking it through.

Jihoon pressed on, voice firmer now. "That's what horror thrives on—tension, mystery, timing. It's not about how loud the explosion is or how shiny the costume looks. It's about how deeply you can crawl under the audience's skin."

He paused again, letting the weight of his next words land. "If the board starts dreaming about Marvel-level profits and starts throwing money around like it grows on trees, they're going to ruin it before it even begins."

"Horror doesn't work like that. It's meant to be lean, precise, and high-impact. The moment you try to scale it like a superhero franchise, you lose the very thing that makes it special."

Jim finally leaned back in his chair, visibly impressed. "Alright. Now it's clear. I'll make sure the board hears this exactly the way you've laid it out."

"Good," Jihoon said with a small nod.

Jim nodded again, then leaned forward. "So with all that said—what's the next step?"

Jihoon glanced at Peli, then back at Jim. "Peli will continue developing the Paranormal Activity series and start aligning it with the cinematic universe we're building. Meanwhile, Stephen and I will begin working on the next phase."

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