Chapter 186

“No, are you truly insane?”

Park Jung-woo, who was completely battered, sighed as he sat at the café.

Seoyeon, who had kidnapped Jung-woo, had already loaded him into a van and driven to a café located a bit far away.

And she had, in fact, meticulously prepared sunglasses and a mask to cover Park Jung-woo’s face.

Of course, since the café was empty, there was no need to use them.

‘So this is what it feels like to be kidnapped.’

Park Jung-woo had seen videos online a few times where people were swiftly bundled into vans and disappeared within moments. He thought it couldn’t possibly be that easy, but now that he’d experienced it, he realized it could be.

“Anyway, you haven’t been responding to messages, Senior.”

Seoyeon said it plainly. With her hair tied in a high ponytail and sunglasses on, she looked different from usual—perhaps more lively.

Maybe it was just because he couldn’t see her eyes.

“Responding? You can’t possibly mean *that*?”

At first, Jeong-woo and Seoyeon hadn’t really been communicating much. They didn’t completely ignore each other, but they rarely had “proper conversations.” The messages Seoyeon sent to Park Jung-woo were more like this:

A few days ago:

– 10 PM knife fight?

Three days ago:

– 10 PM

Yesterday:

– Knife fight?

And today:

– Let’s go!

At first, he thought it was some kind of code.

Now, though, he finally understood.

He had seen the words “knife fight” so many times it was hard to forget, even if he tried.

To begin with, Park Jung-woo wasn’t someone who usually played that type of PC game.

He started playing more or less because of Seoyeon.

‘It’s clearly because she wants to keep playing with me.’

Park Jung-woo knew.

Seoyeon only called him when there was no one around who was worse at gaming than he was.

Compared to Seoyeon, Jiyeon was clearly better. And while it seemed like Jo Seo-hee had been testing the waters with their relationship:

“HOHOHO!! I hit Platinum this time! Isn’t that amazing? Isn’t it incredible?~”

There was a certain charm to Jo Seo-hee’s virtual YouTuber broadcasts, which she had been hosting on her off days more frequently lately after developing a bit of a passion for it. Park Jung-woo only started watching them because she recommended them so enthusiastically. Truthfully, Park Jung-woo wasn’t too interested in the content itself, but more in Seo-hee’s request for feedback on whether she was doing well.

‘Why does she have cat ears?’

Virtual YouTuber Alice.

It was probably derived from *Alice in Wonderland*, right?

The cat ears? Likely from the Cheshire Cat.

Cat ears with a noble lady concept—it was bizarre, but oddly fitting.

Anyway, even though she had just started gaming, Seo-hee’s skills were improving rapidly. Park Jung-woo wasn’t an expert, but he could understand from the reactions of the viewers.

“Impossible.”

The person who sent that super chat to Jo Seo-hee was none other than Seoyeon, sitting right in front of Park Jung-woo now. Thanks to receiving Seoyeon’s nickname or ID from Jiyeon, he had a general idea.

Still, Seoyeon looked like she was in awe of Seo-hee, who had quickly surpassed her.

Thus, Park Jung-woo often found himself dragged into games.

Couldn’t she accept someone stronger?

That was the thought that came to mind.

“How can you ignore my daily invites to game together?”

With those words, Seoyeon’s gaze narrowed.

Under that piercing look, Park Jung-woo shivered and took a sip of the green tea in front of him.

‘Her glare is really intimidating.’

Maybe this was why she always got the villain roles. Thinking about it, even Jo Seo-hee and Jiyeon, who often hung out with Seoyeon, shared a similar air of intensity.

Once, he saw the three of them walking together. The surrounding students slowly backed away as if they could sense something.

Generally, people recognize actors and actresses and approach them, right?

Even though they clearly recognized them, they stayed at a distance, snapping photos of their phones.

Not a soul had the courage to start a conversation.

Of course, Seoyeon’s glare today was more sulky than intense. Was this really the same person who appeared in those magical girl shorts?

When Park Jung-woo looked at Seoyeon and rubbed his eyes, doubting if it was really her, he confirmed that the Seoyeon from the magical girl series was, indeed, adorable.

Park Jung-woo wanted to tease her about it, but he knew better. Teasing Seoyeon wouldn’t just result in her glaring—it would lead to finger prods like what Seo-hee experienced daily. Sometimes, it even escalated to elbow strikes if he was unlucky.

Once, during an elbow strike, he almost blacked out.

“It’s socializing too.”

“Then why don’t you try playing ‘Rift Valley’?”

“I’m tired of that.”

Tired my foot. You’re probably just not good at it and can only handle “knife fights.”

Park Jung-woo didn’t bother contradicting that. After all, Seoyeon was holding a fork in her hand today.

“Anyway, I’m being serious here.”

“About what?”

“It’s because of that movie.”

What?

What possible connection could there be between knife fighting games and movies?

Staring blankly at Seoyeon, Park Jung-woo noticed her hand tightening around the fork.

Could it break?

Curious to see if it would, he watched as she continued.

“Of course, I couldn’t keep asking if you were really going to commit to the movie we planned to work on together after randomly contacting you.”

“Oh, that.”

Now that he thought about it, whenever Seoyeon invited him to game, she had also checked on this. He just hadn’t given it much thought at the time.

‘So, this was socializing all along.’

Who would’ve thought she had such delicate considerations?

Park Jung-woo looked at Seoyeon in amazement.

“Are you talking about filmmaker Jo Bang-woo’s movie? I heard it’s a disaster film.”

“Yes.”

For a moment, Park Jung-woo was puzzled by Seoyeon’s response. He had indeed learned about this from Jo Min-tae, director Bang-woo’s son, but he hadn’t expected Seoyeon to know. They hadn’t spoken for a while despite their connection through the earlier production *The Moon That Hid the Sun.*

“[*Seoul Escape*].”

“The title hasn’t been finalized yet.”

“…That was my idea. Doesn’t it sound fitting?”

“It does.”

Seoyeon subtly shifted her gaze upon hearing Park Jung-woo’s reply. It was the kind of behavior she exhibited whenever she had messed something up.

It was a little strange, but…

‘Really a disaster movie.’

Park Jung-woo pondered filmmaker Jo Bang-woo’s new project. If asked whether he would appear in it, the answer was naturally yes. After all, he had made a promise to Seoyeon.

The reason he hadn’t given her probing questions much thought was that he’d already decided to join in from the start.

“Doesn’t the audition come around at the end of this year? Are you really going?”

“I’m going. Honestly, I haven’t even received the script yet.”

“Hmm, I think you’re going.”

An oddly confident statement. Still, Seoyeon avoided his gaze, careful not to repeat her earlier mistake.

‘Originally, Senior Jung-woo had rejected the offer to appear in *Seoul Escape*.’

Of course, this wasn’t in the present context.

In the past life Seoyeon remembered…

Park Jung-woo had undoubtedly turned down the offer to appear in *Seoul Escape*. With no one wanting to star in Jo Bang-woo’s movies, which had failed one after another, they were trying to leverage connections—not even their own, but those of the director’s son.

One can only imagine how disheartened Jo Bang-woo must have felt back then.

‘Of course, once the funding was secured, actors did eventually join, but…’

None of them could truly be called “A-list.”

After careful selection, Director Jo picked one person to play the lead role.

And it turned into his biggest mistake.

‘Wasn’t his name Kang Tae-hwan? That actor.’

The lead from *Seoul Escape* in the previous life, who was known for his decent acting skills, didn’t seem right for the movie. Not only that—amidst the bad press due to some scandal, it ruined the image of *Seoul Escape*. Consequently, the movie ended in complete failure, and it became the final nail in the coffin for Director Jo Bang-woo’s career.

‘Thinking about it, Senior Jung-woo had a lot of rumors about him in the previous life as well.’

Not completely malicious ones. Mostly from reality shows where actors complained that Park Jung-woo was too full of himself.

In fact, articles in magazines or on news sites often portrayed him as arrogant.

But strangely, there were none of that in this life. Was there some difference?

‘Because of me?’

Even thinking about it felt strange. How could her existence have changed Park Jung-woo?

Sure, they were good friends through gaming now. But that’s all.

“Honestly, I’m not the problem here.”

At that moment, Park Jung-woo spoke.

Today, it seemed like Seoyeon really wanted confirmation that he’d be in this movie. Of course, he always intended to join.

Sometimes, Park Jung-woo did unexpected things, but as an actor, he still felt a strong desire to work with someone like Seoyeon. Just like their younger days on *The Moon That Hid the Sun.*

*Dream Future* gave him a nostalgic sense of the past, but there weren’t too many scenes where their characters interacted.

Thus, *Seoul Escape* was a great opportunity for Park Jung-woo to show Seoyeon his improved abilities—an evolution from their previous collaboration.

But…

“Isn’t it true that, as far as I know, you currently have two movies planned for your schedule?”

*Mine* and *Gyeongseong Yeong-nyeo*. Neither were easily accessible.

Moreover, given Seoyeon’s industrious character, it was unlikely she would take time off from filming to work on dramas or variety shows, raising some concerns for Park Jung-woo.

After all, he had seen countless people who worked passionately like her burn out quickly.

“Besides, both are villain roles, right?”

“One is the protagonist though.”

“Gyeongseong Yeong-nyeo’s protagonist?”

“No, *Mine’s* protagonist.”

“Huh?”

Park Jung-woo thought back to *Hyper Action Star*. If memory served, it was the Japanese actor he beat up. And there was the guy screaming like a supercar.

But honestly, based on the scene where she swung an axe, anyone could see *she* was clearly the villain.

“This was an audition to choose the protagonist, after all.”

After stating this, Seoyeon stared at Park Jung-woo, gripping the fork tightly as she pressed down on the plate. Naturally, his gaze drifted to the fork.

Would she stab through the plate?

As Park Jung-woo watched with mild excitement, Seoyeon finally released the fork from the plate.

“Senior.”

“Yes?”

“Sometimes, you look at me like I’m some bizarre creature.”

“…”

Park Jung-woo hesitated.

Still, every time Seoyeon exhibited quirky behavior, it made him curious about what her limits were—even if her coconut-piercing finger strength was already impressive. He secretly wondered how far her abilities stretched.

Of course, he never dared to ask directly, lest she punch a hole through him.

“Anyway, I thought you had two villain roles, but it seems like your image isn’t overlapping.”

“Because of image consumption.”

“You’re right. The more you act, the faster that happens.”

Thus, many actors control how many projects they work on in a year. Certainly, some decide to film as much as possible during their peak.

‘And that happens especially fast if you’re the lead role.’

Seoyeon was somewhat ambiguous. Villain roles were her most common ones. Of course, playing villains also consumed a significant part of her image.

Frankly, balancing that was impressive to Park Jung-woo. Honestly, a role on a film like *Cha Soo-ah* would decide Seoyeon’s image for the next few years.

‘Turned into a magical girl role?’

The surprise was real. In fact, young people now identified Seoyeon more strongly as the actress from the magical girl series than as *Cha Soo-ah*. It really showcased the impact of her appearance in the shorts.

An artist’s image could dramatically shift from just one striking scene. There was an actress who became a sensation after showing off a charm on a military-themed entertainment show, even becoming synonymous with “cuteness” for a while.

Seoyeon’s magical girl series was similar in its effect. It would have been even more powerful if it had aired on a major broadcasting channel.

“Anyway, are you really going?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you just say that earlier?”

“Then stop inviting me to game and just ask plainly.”

Sighing, Park Jung-woo changed his expression to a more serious one.

“And listen, the problem isn’t me. It’s you.”

Looking at Seoyeon intently, Jung-woo spoke gravely. He was truly sincere. After all, he was aware of all the recent issues surrounding *Gyeongseong Yeong-nyeo*.

“The main actors have withdrawn. If the schedule doesn’t work out, it could all fall apart.”

“No worries.”

Seoyeon smiled after glancing at her phone, which had just received a message related to what Jung-woo mentioned.

“In fact, it’s going much better.”

“…?”

Confused, Park Jung-woo looked at Seoyeon, who grinned cheerfully back.

Although secretly, that smile made Park Jung-woo jump slightly.

***

“I heard we’ve secured the role of Isamu.”

“Hmm, this is an important role. We can’t assign it to just any actor.”

The *Gyeongseong Yeong-nyeo* production team looked uneasy for various reasons. Many actors who initially agreed to appear had backed out due to recent controversies.

They couldn’t say much since those actors had simply paid the penalty and canceled their contracts. It was a fairly common occurrence in the industry.

Just the number was slightly higher this time around.

“I also heard that they’ve decided to appear in a new movie by Director Shin Ho-chul after sharpening their swords.”

“Ah, that one? They can’t possibly be going there instead?”

“Can’t say. But they’re definitely offering much more money than us.”

Still, the team managed to secure investors for *Gyeongseong Yeong-nyeo*, thanks in part to Director Baek Min’s reputation. However, the funds were modest, limiting what they could spend.

‘Which is why the breach penalties were readily paid after all.’

‘The filming hadn’t started, so they weren’t too high anyway.’

Furthermore, Isamu was essentially the main villain in the story. The performance needed to carry the role properly. Originally, the casting of Senior Actor Lee Sang-hyuk was seen as an ideal fit, and his loss felt doubly painful.

“Is there a replacement actor for Lee Sang-hyuk?”

“Frankly, I’m not sure. There are a few, but they might not even take the script.”

“Besides, lots of the senior actors tend to avoid Director Baek Min’s movies.”

Director Baek Min’s work, at least for senior actors, was known for its distinctive and sometimes controversial subjects, as seen in this *Gyeongseong Yeong-nyeo* movie that dealt with a homosexual storyline.

“Seoyeon.”

At that moment, Director Baek Min walked in and greeted Seoyeon, causing confusion among the production team.

“Why is Joo Seoyeon here?”

“Didn’t we come to look for an actor for the role of Isamu?”

Honestly, they thought the audition would proceed by judging the acting first, but here Seoyeon was.

Curious glances were cast her way.

“Someone said they’ll be arriving shortly.”

Seoyeon smiled at those gathered, hinting that the movie’s secret weapon was finally about to appear.

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