CHAPTER 008: Is He a Born Genius Type?
CHAPTER 008: Is He a Born Genius Type?
A dark, dim studio.
Director Chae Wongi sat in front of the monitor, fully absorbed in editing. His face was full of smiles.
“Man… this is the first time I’ve ever had an experience where there’s basically nothing to edit.”
It wasn’t just because they’d shot it as a one-take.
It was because Ryu Sunho’s facial acting in the footage was perfect.
Even right after a run so intense it should’ve left him choking for air, he captured pure happiness without a single trace of distortion. That expression barely needed any touch-ups.
As he did only the minimum editing needed to enhance the visuals, Director Chae replayed the footage again and again. Every time Sunho’s clear expression appeared, the corners of his lips lifted in satisfied delight.
“This… might be a masterpiece that’ll stay in my commercial career…”
A strong intuition brushed past him—if things went well, they could even aim for the Grand Prize.
He’d already won most major awards—the Seoul International Advertising Festival, the Consumers’ Choice Good Advertising Awards, and so on—but he’d always fallen short right at the threshold of the country’s most prestigious award: the Korea Advertising Awards.
He’d switched his career to directing dramas without ever winning that prize, and the lingering regret had stayed tucked in one corner of his heart…
“This ad… I’ve got a feeling. A strong feeling this is going to be Ad of the Year!”
Just then, someone slid the studio door open and entered.
“It’s that guy, Yoo Gwangjung. What’s the point of coming now. I’ve been itching to show you the footage—huh? Why is Actress Seo here?”
Seo Yoonha walked in, grinning, holding a luxurious dessert box.
“I want cake, but it’s too much to eat alone. Hehe.”
“What a smooth talker. Be honest. You’ve got another motive, don’t you?”
At the director’s question, Seo Yoonha gave a cheeky smile.
“Director, doesn’t this feel like something someone else would love if they saw it?”
“Heh. I was thinking the same thing. I was just about to show it to Writer Park Eunju.”
Director Chae glanced at the monitor as he spoke.
“Cut-editing’s basically done, so let’s go to her writing studio together later.”
Then he paused, as if something had suddenly occurred to him.
“Ah. And while we’re at it, I should send it to that kid too. If he’s got acting skills like this, he’s the type to monitor carefully.”
A writing studio in Sangdo-dong, Seoul.
It was around lunchtime, with the sun high overhead, but Writer Park Eunju looked like she’d just woken up—wearing sleep pajamas and an eye mask. The piles of scripts and half-finished coffee cups spoke to how brutal her work schedule had been.
Ding-dong—!
At the sudden doorbell, she ripped off her eye mask and went to the door.
“Who the hell is it at this hour—! Huh? Princess Seo!”
A face full of irritation, Park Eunju swung the door open. The moment she saw her visitor, she welcomed her enthusiastically. Seo Yoonha returned a bright smile.
“I came to have dessert time with you, Writer. I figured your blood sugar must be crashing with all that scriptwriting.”
“Aw, you didn’t have to bring all this. If you act well on set, that’s all the sugar boost and happiness I need.”
“Then what about alcohol? It seems like your insomnia’s been bad lately, so I bought beer too.”
“Huh? What—Director Chae is here too? You two coming together—what’s going on?”
“Let us in first and then talk. The neighbors are going to come out and stare.”
The three of them went inside.
As she headed to the living room, Park Eunju grumbled.
“But cake and beer is a terrible pairing. No sense at all.”
Director Chae answered with a sly grin.
“You don’t know anything. The richness of dense cheesecake pairs great with the bitterness of dark beer—perfect balance. For me, this is the real ‘chi-maek.’”
“Hmm? You’re right. It’s weirdly good. I guess that giant body didn’t come from nowhere.”
The three of them laughed while dividing up the cake. After the brief small talk ended, Park Eunju got to the point.
“Alright. Enough pleasantries. What is it? You two showing up together means you’ve got something to say.”
Director Chae wore a meaningful smile.
“Actually, the cure for your insomnia isn’t beer. It’s something else.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You haven’t been sleeping because of the Kang Seoho casting, right? Because there’s no actor who can pull off that role. Well—turns out we found one.”
Seo Yoonha picked up the baton with a grin.
“You’re going to like him too, Writer.”
Park Eunju snorted.
“You know I’m picky about actors, right? No matter how much you two blow wind into it, if it’s a no for me, it’s a no.”
“Yeah, yeah. We know. Just watch first, then talk.”
When Director Chae plugged the USB into Park Eunju’s laptop, Ryu Sunho’s face appeared on the large living-room TV.
“What? He’s really handsome. But I’ve never seen him before.”
“Right. We’d never seen him either. He’s a rookie we met during this commercial shoot.”
Park Eunju stared at Sunho on the screen and muttered,
“He’s exactly the milk-face I’ve been looking for. Mm. Visuals pass, at least.”
When the video started playing, Park Eunju stopped moving her fork and got sucked into the screen.
Sunho began running, fought the headwind with anguish, and then finally broke into a blissful smile—
Park Eunju’s eyes went wide.
“Th-that expression… what is that? He’s really a rookie?”
Director Chae smiled proudly and shrugged.
“He’s not just any rookie.”
“Then what?”
“Fresh. No credits. Completely raw.”
“That acting? What—then is he some born genius type?”
“But that’s not all.”
Still smiling, Director Chae pulled out his phone and showed another video. It was Sunho’s Brave Citizen Award interview.
“Look at this. This kid rescued a driver from a burning car and got the Brave Citizen Award. Just watching the interview—don’t you get a feel?”
Park Eunju nodded vigorously.
“He’s Seoho himself! That good, kind look!”
Seo Yoonha chimed in.
“If he can do facial acting like that, doesn’t it feel like he could totally handle the twist later too? I saw it on set—he nailed that expression acting in one shot.”
“He did that in one shot?”
Park Eunju’s grin stretched so wide it looked like it might reach her ears. Her face was a mix of awe and excitement.
In her head, it was like the perfect image of Seoho was already being drawn. Her happy-delusion engine revved to maximum, and she said—
“I want to see him right now. Can you reach him?”
[Popularity Achievement Unlocked!]
[You have gained your 10th fan who remembers your face and name.]
[Reward: Stat Point +1]
[You have gained your 100th fan who remembers your face and name.]
[Reward: Stat Point +1]
[You have gained your 1,000th fan who remembers your face and name.]
[Reward: Stat Point +1]
[Remaining Stat Points: 3]
After the Brave Citizen Award, I got three popularity-achievement notifications.
Looks like going viral on the community sites worked.
Of course, the YouTube interview with Reporter Seo Jiyeon helped too. The view count had already passed 500,000.
‘Tsk. But for 500,000, it feels kind of weak.’
Compared to the views, it was a little disappointing that only 1,000 people “remembered” me—but honestly, I don’t remember the names of everyone I see on YouTube either. I just let them pass by.
Thinking that, I couldn’t really complain.
I just had to hope the commercial would hit even bigger.
KakaoTalk!
A message suddenly came in from Director Chae Wongi.
It was the commercial footage. The edit wasn’t finished yet, but he said he sent it in case I wanted to monitor it.
For a man with that massive build, he was surprisingly meticulous.
Tap—
I played the video on my phone.
‘It’s good.’
I was pretty satisfied. Especially the facial acting. Thanks to Runner’s High, I could express extreme happiness.
‘But…’
A worry crept up.
Could I act this well in other kinds of scenes too?
I checked my acting stat.
[Acting: C]
I still had a long way to go.
This time, Runner’s High let me deliver a satisfying performance, but I couldn’t film running scenes every time.
Then—
♬♩♪-
My phone rang.
An unknown number.
-Are you okay to talk right now, Sunho?
A woman’s voice?
Voice phishing?
“Who is this?”
-Ah, you don’t have my number saved, do you. Save it now. It’s Seo Yoonha. The one you saw on the commercial set the other day.
Ah. Seo Yoonha.
Thank goodness—
Wait.
Why is top star Seo Yoonha calling me?
How did she even get my number?
-You remember what I said last time, right? When I asked if you were interested in doing a drama. So—would you be willing to audition?
I accepted right away.
I still worried about my acting, but—
‘If you do nothing, nothing happens.’
No point in getting scared alone and throwing away a chance.
First, I needed information. What drama was it?
I searched Seo Yoonha online, and a news article popped up.
[StudioPlus reunites the ultra-luxury team—Writer Park Eunju x Director Chae Wongi x Actress Seo Yoonha—returning with Possessed Investigation]
The prestigious domestic drama production house StudioPlus will return to viewers in the second half of this year with Possessed Investigation…
…Possessed Investigation is a strange buddy-cop investigation drama about a detective whose logic is perfect but always one step late, and a shaman who can hear ghosts but has no credibility in society. Reason and intuition, science and divine power collide in an eerie collaboration. The two constantly clash, yet gradually move closer to the truth through each other, overcoming trauma and drawing a mutual salvation narrative…
…Possessed Investigation has already entered production, and with a broadcast goal set for the second half of this year, casting is nearly complete.
Reading the synopsis, a faint memory surfaced.
Back when I was stuck in the hospital, I didn’t actually watch dramas.
That was a time when it hurt to see celebrities on TV.
But the people sharing my room always turned on that drama at 10 p.m. sharp.
What I saw was their reactions—
staring up at the TV for a full hour without even going to the bathroom.
So what I’m saying is—
‘This drama is going to hit.’
Ding-dong—!
When Director Chae opened the door, Ryu Sunho was standing there.
“Come in, Sunho!”
Director Chae welcomed him enthusiastically and led him into the writing studio. Park Eunju greeted him lightly, scanning him from head to toe.
She was still in guard mode.
But as she looked at Sunho’s face, she thought to herself—
‘He looks way better in person.’
He’d been outstanding even on screen, but in real life, he shone even more.
‘Just by looks, he wouldn’t get pushed back even standing next to the other lead actors.’
But what mattered was acting.
If she were picking actors based on looks alone, there were plenty of idol-turned-actors she could choose.
But all of them had clicked their tongues and broken into cold sweat at the difficulty level of Seoho in Possessed Investigation.
That’s how hard the role was.
It was a supporting role with short screen time, but as the first villain, he had to hit viewers with a powerful impact.
Not a born villain—he was a character who “darkened” after suffering an incident, so his early and later selves had to feel like entirely different people. He needed to show a drastic personality shift.
Seoho’s backstory was this:
…
Kang Seoho.
A twenty-year-old young man.
He grew up admiring his father, a civil servant in the Korea Forest Service.
His father was “a man who protected the mountains.”
A person who never got attention, but always sweated in the field for the balance of the nation’s land.
Watching his father, Seoho naturally prepared for the path of a firefighter.
He wanted to become someone who could help, standing beside his father.
But one spring day, a massive wildfire broke out.
The flames spread rapidly, and Kang Seoho volunteered to help suppress the fire alongside his father.
That day, the mountain burned.
And that day, his life burned with it.
His father died in the line of duty.
Seoho suffered full-body burns and lost consciousness.
The family fell apart.
His mother lost her voice, unable even to call Seoho’s name.
Lying in a hospital room, Seoho learned the cause of the wildfire through the news.
It started because a shaman had been performing an illegal gut ritual in the mountains and left without properly extinguishing a candle.
The shaman was shameless.
In police questioning, he said, “That wasn’t a fire I caused. It was the will of the gods,” and instead blamed the Forest Service for failing to manage the mountain.
“If Forest Service civil servants managed the mountains properly, there wouldn’t have been a fire in the first place!”
Those words stabbed into Kang Seoho’s ears like a blade.
In that instant, something inside him snapped.
Someone had to be responsible. Someone had burned to death.
And yet the shaman denied everything with a single phrase: “the will of the gods.”
At that moment, Seoho became certain.
Heaven, the law, people—none of them take responsibility in the end.
Then fire must judge.
Seoho was furious, but he didn’t cry.
He despaired, but he didn’t waver.
His eyes grew even clearer, even more still.
After that, he disappeared.
And a few months later, serial arson murders began breaking out across the country.
The fire was meticulously designed.
…
Park Eunju handed over the script and said,
“It’s a layered role where you have to handle both the warmth in the beginning and the cold cruelty later… You can do it, right?”
Ryu Sunho nodded with an unreadable expression.
Park Eunju felt a strange distance in the atmosphere, but then she gave him the first acting task.
“Then let’s start with Seoho in the early part—before the burns. The good, diligent Seoho. This section.”
She pointed to a line in the script.
Sunho took a breath, then expressed Seoho’s emotions written there.
His voice carried the purity of a young man and a firm conviction.
‘It’s… okay.’
That was Park Eunju’s internal thought.
In other words—ordinary.
There was no way this would satisfy her.
Was that commercial footage just a fluke?
If this was his level, there was no chance he’d handle the post-burn version later.
Every rookie she’d auditioned could do the front half to some extent, but collapsed on the back half.
The trauma from burns.
The deep density of rage and despair—no one had been able to express it properly.
She knew it was hard acting, but still, it was a role that required exactly that.
Park Eunju bit her lip.
But since he’d come all this way, she figured she might as well make him try.
So she ordered the next performance.
“This time, it’s the scene where your father dies in the fire, you’re burned, your life collapses, and you darken. Try this part.”
Sunho closed his eyes and focused.
Then when he slowly opened them, his gaze was completely different from before—filled with deep despair and cold rage.
In an instant, the face of an ordinary young man gave way to someone twisted inside, someone who had lost everything.
His subtle changes in expression and trembling eyes made Seoho’s pain and anger feel vividly real.
“You said it was the will of the gods. Then the gods should feel what it’s like to burn, too.”
“…!”
Park Eunju jolted to her feet without realizing it.
Hand clamped over her mouth, her eyes darted wildly left and right.
She stared at Sunho in horror, feeling a chilling fear and a trauma so vivid it felt real—
Then she shouted.
“…This is it. This is ittt!!!”