The Physique That Seals the Deal
Suhyeon continued, recalling the events of that day.
"After arriving at Paji, I met up with Kang-ho hyung, who was waiting for me. He took me to the director and introduced us. Director Jeong Se-cheol..."
Park Siljang, who had been listening intently, tossed out a casual remark.
"The movie's a cop thriller, right?"
"Yes, exactly. Did you know which film I did my cameo in, Siljang?"
"No clue. I didn't even know you did a cameo that day until now. There are so many films shooting in Korea these days—not just one or two. I'm no genius like you, Suhyeon. But I do know Jeong Se-cheol specializes in cop thrillers. Every director has their niche, just like singers have ballads, trot, rock, hip-hop. If it's Jeong Se-cheol directing, it's a safe bet it's a cop flick. What's the title?"
Handcuffs Cry.
Park Siljang pulled out his phone and made a call.
"Yeah, it's me. Jeong Se-cheol's directing a movie called Handcuffs Cry. Send me a quick rundown on the production info. Yeah. As soon as possible..."
He hung up and said, "Keep going."
"Yes. After that, I got the script. The story was similar to Veteran—chasing a crime-committing chaebol heir. But in this one, the heir goes into hiding after being fingered as the perp. Powerful, wealthy people cover for him and obstruct the investigation, making it tough to catch him. Though he gets nabbed in the end."
Suhyeon paused, sifting through his memories.
"Kang-ho hyung plays a detective pursuing the perp's trail. There's a scene where the detective questions the perp's chaebol heir friends, whom he'd been close to. I was one of those friends."
"So you played a chaebol heir?"
"Yes."
"Was it doable? Must've felt awkward since you didn't grow up in that kind of rich, powerful family..."
Park Siljang's words stirred old memories, making Suhyeon chuckle inwardly as he replied.
I grew up pampered in a clan with four hundred male servants and over two hundred maids...
"It was fine. Director Jeong Se-cheol praised me. Said my acting was very natural."
"Really? That's surprising. Jeong Se-cheol isn't one to praise lightly."
"He seemed pretty gruff."
"Tell me more about the scene. I still can't figure out why BJ's pushing so hard. They wouldn't cast you as the lead in a 30-billion-won blockbuster just because you nailed a chaebol heir role. There must've been something else special that day."
"Yes. The shoot was at Paji in Gapyeong, famous for water sports. The setup was the detective comes to question me while I'm out wakeboarding..."
Park Siljang cut him off.
"Hang on—wakeboarding? Have you ever done it before?"
"No, never."
Though I've danced across water on lotus leaves with Dengping Dushui, slicing water bandits' throats more times than I can count.
"First time that day, then?"
"Yes. I even learned that day that 'Paji' comes from 'barge'—baji shortened."
"Something's off. Seong Kang-ho wouldn't have picked that without asking if you'd tried it. Unless..."
"He probably wanted to mess with me. He was still salty from a drama shoot. Or figured if I botched it, they could use a stunt double for the boarding shots."
"Hm. Did you?"
"No, I did it all. Five-minute lesson, one practice run as rehearsal, then action. Director called it OK in one take."
"What? Is wakeboarding that easy? For a film scene, it'd have to look pro—not half-assed."
"My motor skills are top-notch."
A peak Microcosmic Orbit expert like me couldn't handle that? I'd get stabbed walking down the street.
"Impressive. So, summary: chaebol heir role, wakeboarding. That's it?"
"Yes."
"No water-skiing or wakeboarding in Sting: A Report on Its Beauty? You remember the whole script."
Suhyeon mentally flipped through it.
"None. There are scenes swimming in a foreign hotel pool or delivering lines, but no water sports or chases."
"Sigh... If it's not in the movie, I have no idea why BJ's doing this."
"I can't guess either. I don't fully get the film industry's ways yet. Sorry."
"Nonsense. You're new to cameos—how could you? Even a genius couldn't."
As they pondered, Park Siljang's phone rang. His face hardened as he answered. Suhyeon could have eavesdropped with his sharp ears but held back out of courtesy.
Park Siljang ended the call gravely. Suhyeon asked, "Who was it? Not the film info contact, from your expression."
"From BJ."
"What'd they say?"
"Want a meeting in two days."
"That's a problem?"
"Your face looks bad, Siljang."
"Before the meeting... tomorrow evening, someone wants to meet you and me."
"Who?"
"Not sure exactly. Just that it's the biggest investor in your film. They want dinner before the meeting—asked if we could."
"What'd you say?"
"Of course, as if we have a choice. We go when they call."
"That bad? Dinner with an investor seems fine."
"It's not the dinner. We don't know the situation—that's the issue. We'll get dragged around at the meeting, terms all in their favor. We need intel to negotiate."
"Serious problem."
"Sigh... Suhyeon, that shoot. Lots of staff around, right?"
"Yeah, about eighty, I'd say."
"During rehearsal or the take, did staff clap or buzz? Like great reaction to your lines, or post-shoot praise?"
"No special reaction to my lines."
"But?"
"Well..."
Suhyeon hesitated. Park Siljang pressed.
"Whatever it is, even trivial—spill. We're grasping at straws. Something special during the shoot? Cool wakeboard trick?"
Suhyeon spoke up.
"Probably unrelated, but before boarding, I changed."
"Clothes?"
"Film thing—tight short swim trunks below, life vest above."
"So? Hot day, civilians do that."
Suhyeon confessed resignedly.
"Sigh. When I stepped out of the changing room—topless, just trunks—the staff erupted in applause and cheers. Women especially."
Park Siljang paused, then realized.
"No way... your abs?"
"Years of martial arts training... it's decent, I guess."
"Nah. Hot actor bods are dime-a-dozen in films. But staff clapping and cheering yours?"
He eyed Suhyeon intently.
"Strip here—show me."
"Here...?"
"Guys, no biggie. I'm straight—three kids."
Moments later, Park Siljang stared at Suhyeon's bare torso, speechless. He finally muttered, entranced.
"Now I get it. Makes sense after seeing."
The next evening, Suhyeon sat with Park Siljang in the back of a luxury sedan with a chauffeur.
"This investor must be loaded—sending a high-end car with driver, inviting us home."
"Films are gambles till release. Blockbuster lead investor? Obviously rich."
"Your face looks brighter, Siljang."
"Saw your bare bod yesterday. No lie—even with crap script and you phoning it in... if you strip throughout, it'd gross over a million tickets easy."
"Ridiculous."
Park Siljang gazed dreamily.
"Not at all. Yesterday, seeing you? Reminded me of my fave actor from my youth. Obsessed back then."
"Who?"
"Bruce. Lee."
As Suhyeon recalled who that was, Park continued.
"Yours looked better. Why? Bruce was short—173cm maybe. You're 186. A man's dream physique."
Suhyeon opened his mouth to retort when the chauffeur spoke.
"We're here. Please step out."
They exited to a palace-like mansion. Guided by security, they crossed a stadium-sized garden into the house. A butler led them to a dazzling living room aglow with chandeliers.
Suhyeon scanned it slowly before the host arrived—and froze.
Wait—what's going on here?
A voice came from the side.
"Like it?"