The projection screen was still left on the to-do list from last night, dense progress bars almost completely covering the display.

Curled up in her chair, the Art Lead edited images, dark circles clearly visible under her eyes.

The Screenwriter hugged his laptop while flipping through documents, muttering quietly at the English script.

Head lowered, the Manager scrolled on a tablet, while the Director stared blankly at the progress chart.

And then—

Bang!

The meeting room door was suddenly pushed open.

At the doorway, the Boss excitedly held up his phone.

“Everyone! Let’s go out and have fun!”

The Art Lead and the Screenwriter both looked up at the same time.

“…Huh?”

Their voices overlapped almost perfectly.

The Art Lead frowned and sat straight up.

“Are you insane? How much backlog do we have right now!”

Instinctively, the Screenwriter hugged his laptop even tighter.

“I suspect they secretly multiply at night…”

“Just a few were deleted yesterday…”

“How did they grow back again today…”

The Manager also put down his tablet.

“…They’re right.”

“We should at least finish this wave of progress first.”

Seeing everyone’s expressions grow more serious, the smile on the Boss’s face slowly faded.

After a moment of silence, he spoke softly.

“…Do you remember our original dream?”

“To create works people remember.”

A few people froze slightly.

The Boss lowered his head, tightening his grip on his phone.

“We create lives full of sweetness, bitterness, and everything in between for our characters.”

“But what about us?”

“Every day is just rehearsals, script revisions, translations, and chasing deadlines…”

His voice grew quieter and quieter.

“If even we no longer feel truly alive…”

“How are we supposed to create life for our characters?”

He finally lifted his gaze and looked at everyone in the meeting room.

“The story is fake.”

“But you are real.”

“Without your reality…”

“The story won’t move.”

The room fell completely silent.

After a few seconds—

the Director spoke first.

“…Where are we going?”

Just moments ago wearing a heavy expression, the Boss immediately brightened up again.

“Italy!”

“…Italy?!”

The Art Lead was the first to be speechless.

“That’s way too far!”

The Boss put his hands on his hips, looking completely matter-of-fact.

“Because I want to eat tiramisu!”

The Screenwriter widened his eyes in disbelief.

“You can buy that near the office!”

The Boss instantly shifted into a wronged expression and slightly shrank toward the doorway.

“But I want to eat it in Italy…”

“With you all.”

The Art Lead gritted her teeth, her temple visibly twitching.

The Boss suddenly smiled again.

“Ta-da!”

He held his phone up high.

“I already bought the plane tickets!”

Everyone snapped their heads up.

The Manager quickly walked over, his gaze landing on the screen of the Boss’s phone.

“W-wait… wait…”

For the first time, his voice clearly trembled.

“Seventeen… days?”

The Screenwriter looked up at the ceiling, dazed.

“Do you really think we’ll still want to work after we get back?”

The Art Lead, meanwhile, stared down at the screen, her lips trembling slightly.

“B-business class?”

“Whose budget did you pull this from?!”

The Boss spread his hands innocently.

“Sigh, we’re all getting older.”

“If we take economy, will our legs still work after landing?”

At this point.

The Director, who had been silent the whole time, slowly spoke up.

“…Has no one noticed… the departure is in a week…?”

The next second—

The Art Lead snatched the phone.

Scrolling through the itinerary, the Manager’s expression grew increasingly blank.

The Boss immediately thumped his chest.

“Don’t worry, I’ve already thought it through!”

Instantly on alert, the Screenwriter spoke up.

“The itinerary—where is it?”

The Boss confidently opened the schedule.

“Rome!”

He swiped down.

“Florence!”

Swiped again.

“Venice!”

Finally, he pointed at the screen.

“Milan!”

…

The Art Lead’s last shred of sanity finally snapped.

“F—!”

“This is just a sequence of cities!”

And so—

They successfully went from the hell of overtime… into the hell of scheduling.