Chapter 555
Chapter 555
“I see. So that’s how it played out.”
I watched Ju-dan as he nodded seriously.
We were in his studio apartment. As soon as I’d returned, I had explained everything that had happened so far.
“To think you’d establish such a bizarre collaborative system with Cheong-ryeo sunbae…”
He was trying his best to act composed, but he was actually completely engrossed. He’d even forgotten to drink the soda he’d poured for himself, listening with rapt attention.
“But I can understand Cheong-ryeo sunbae’s perspective. An informant who can exchange information without leaving a single trace? In theory, the security is perfect.”
“……”
“Of course, his willingness to hand over the officetel is likely a test. For the time being, it seems important to remain cooperative while maintaining a firm line so as not to appear subservient.”
Why does it feel like you’re analyzing this more intensely than I am?
I stared at him in disbelief as he provided a play-by-play of my situation like a football commentator, then let out a short laugh.
“Yeah. I’m not going to make any stupid choices.”
I reached out my hand.
“Thanks for giving me a place to sleep until now. I’ll pack up and head out today.”
“You certainly move fast. Understood.”
True to someone who enjoyed his solitude, he nodded immediately.
Right, I suppose I had been shamelessly sponging off a kid’s resources for a while now.
But just as that thought crossed my mind, he took my hand and added, somewhat awkwardly, “Even if it’s not a place to stay, I can still provide assistance. Though I suppose there’s nothing I can do if you have no reason to contact me.”
Good grief. He was consistent to the end.
“What are you talking about?” I replied, feigning confusion. “You’re an associate. It’s only natural for an associate to visit the hideout.”
“…!”
“Come over when I call, if you have the time.”
“I will.”
Look at him trying not to look excited.
Even if there’s no work to do, I have money now, so I should call him over for a meal occasionally.
‘Well, it probably won’t be for long.’
I was still successfully accessing the heart of the system attached to this world’s Cheong-ryeo and analyzing that strange terminal.
The reason I wasn’t rushing as aggressively as before was that I was trying to proceed as stably as possible.
‘If I get swallowed by the system again, it’s game over.’
Thanks to the information trade with Cheong-ryeo, I had bought myself time, making things more stable. Furthermore…
[Midnight Maestro wishes for your peace of mind.]
I wasn’t sure exactly what they were doing, but thanks to them, my physical condition had improved significantly.
‘Let’s not get impatient.’
There was no need to run around like a character in a disaster movie. I just had to untangle this step by step.
Plus, I’d finally figured out the gist of this… bizarre chat-based communication method.
‘It’s real-time, but there’s a slight lag, and the phrasing is so cryptic it requires some interpretation.’
In that sense…
[The Shooter of the Silent Roster requests your patience.]
This definitely meant "just wait a little longer."
Considering these guys had pulled off the insane feat of blasting me from America to Seoul… they might have actually found a way to call me back to reality.
‘Things have turned out quite well.’
Compared to the days when I was penniless, dragging around a trash-tier body and frying illegal donuts, life was pretty livable now.
‘I guess there’s always a way out.’
I chuckled and finished my preparations to move, which consisted of nothing more than packing a few sets of clothes.
Even as he saw me off, Ju-dan bombarded me with more questions.
“The impact you make in a film will be important, but how do you evaluate your own acting skills? I would understand if you had been an actor in the future as well.”
“……”
Well, a member who is an actor is basically doing the acting for me.
[Focusing Genius Actor is watching you.]
Thanks.
“I don’t think I need to worry much about the acting, and the film has already been decided.”
“Ho-oh.”
I’d already heard this from Cheong-ryeo.
—A decent movie is coming out soon. Do that one.
“A minor supporting role in a holiday film invested in by LeTi.”
The guy originally slated for this role was going to be involved in a sex scandal later on. The plan was to tip off the agency early and slot me in for reshoots.
It seemed they really intended to ‘push’ me.
“That’s appropriate. I see.”
Ju-dan nodded, noting that it was a standard, mainstream path.
“Come to think of it, you mentioned you’d use a stage name when you debut. How do you plan to come up with it?”
“……”
“How about using an anagram?”
“Hmm.”
Sorry, but it’s already been decided.
I looked up.
[Dancer of Noble Disposition misses you.]
“I’m going with Park Moon-dae.”
That was only right.
*
[Idol Who is Never Satisfied grants you a blessing.]
[Trait: Drive]
A film set surrounded by cameras.
I slowly turned my head. My breath escaped in a visible mist.
Do you know what that kind of life is like?
A life where you are so desperate that you can never be satisfied, where every thought and action revolves around a single goal.
An ambition so vast and intense that it overwhelms universal human needs, taking control of your body.
It’s fine to survive on catnaps, to be treated unfairly, or to feel a sense of alienation while practicing unfamiliar tasks over and over.
There’s no need to rationalize it. You don’t calculate to make the pain acceptable. Your brain doesn’t burn with stress.
Those things are for people with the luxury of choice.
The crumbs don’t matter. As long as the goal shines brilliantly.
And we call that a dream.
“……”
This was likely the life Lee Se-jin experienced.
“Cut!”
At the director’s shout, I climbed out of the water.
“Haa…”
I could easily suppress the urge to kill the bastard who wrote a script involving drowning in freezing winter weather.
“Good work. Today’s the last day of filming, right?”
“Yes.”
I wrapped a towel around myself and walked off the set amidst the modest atmosphere.
For three weeks, I had openly declared that I wanted to focus on this sudden life as a rookie actor without getting pissed off, and the blessing had descended…
The effect was outstanding.
Keun Se-jin’s blessing had stuck to me tenaciously for the longest duration yet.
[Idol Who is Never Satisfied smiles bitterly in relief.]
[Idol Who is Never Satisfied has sponsored you! : Energy +]
And the stamina that returned like a reward.
‘Whew.’
I took a deep breath.
My physical condition had stabilized to the level of someone who had just finished an intense practice session.
There was no pain, and it meant I could easily hide the fact that my stamina was running low.
‘I feel good.’
I dried my hair and bowed to people here and there.
“Thank you. Thank you for everything.”
If I acted like a brat, people wouldn’t even talk to me.
To dig up the information I’d agreed on with Cheong-ryeo, I had to at least pretend to be sociable to lay the groundwork.
‘And it’s mostly worked so far.’
I’d already managed to extract a few pieces of intel.
—The director’s preferred method of promotion.
—The screenwriter’s reputation on set.
—The lead actor’s habits.
However, as you could tell from the lineup, these were all microscopic questions. From Cheong-ryeo’s perspective, they were likely useless or things he already knew.
In other words, these were all just tests, and the real big fish he was aiming for would come later.
‘There’s no way a guy like Cheong-ryeo doesn’t have informants in the acting world.’
Idols are essentially multi-entertainers, so they naturally have to appear on variety shows, and the same goes for actors who need to promote their films.
Even if VTIC didn’t act, there were points of intersection.
At the very least, there was no way Cheong-ryeo, who had his people planted all over LeTi, wouldn’t know what was going on here.
‘He must have an ulterior motive.’
I mused as I rubbed my hair with the towel.
The atmosphere on set wasn’t great. After all, they were doing reshoots because the original actor had been ousted by a scandal.
The schedule for a Lunar New Year release had also gone up in smoke, and the morale was visibly low as people grumbled about when the movie would actually open.
‘Well, thanks to that, it was easier because people were careless with their words.’
As an unknown added late to the cast, I was practically ignored.
However, a person appeared from the edge of the set and handed me a coffee.
“Oh my, you must be freezing. Have some of this.”
“Thank you.”
Of course, it wasn’t a staff member. There was no way they’d treat a nameless nobody like me this well.
“You’re going home, right?”
“Yes.”
This person was from LeTi.
I didn’t have a dedicated manager yet, but the rookie management team sent someone along for filming like this.
And the first thing this employee did today was slide a search engine page toward me, showing the results for my stage name.
The profile shot we’d taken last time was perfectly placed in the photo slot.
“Gun-woo-ssi, your profile has been released~”
“…Yes.”
“Ah, I should call you by your stage name! It doesn’t roll off the tongue yet.”
I fell into a brief silence as I looked at the laughing employee. Then, I turned my gaze back to the search page.
[Ryu Moon.]
That was my stage name.
……Right. Park Moon-dae was rejected, damn it.
—…Park Moon-dae? Are you serious?
It had been dismissed with a short, cold response. Since I had no leverage, I couldn’t even bring it to the negotiating table.
‘I did just fine as an idol with that name.’
Still, I’d played my cards right and managed to get them to say, ‘I’ll mention it to the CEO,’ passing the word up the chain of command… but this was the result.
—The CEO put a lot of thought into it, trying to include at least one of the characters you wanted…
……And so, my stage name was finalized as Ryu Moon.
‘No matter how I look at it, it sounds like some edgy chunibyo vlogger.’
Is this for real?
But there was nothing I could do. Isn’t it the fate of those who enter an agency to accept whatever shitty stage name they’re given?
The only silver lining was the surname Ryu. Even if the Ryu Gun-woo who used to sell data here saw it, he’d probably just think I was a relative from the Pungsan Ryu clan.
‘I guess I stumbled into something decent by accident.’
However, as I continued my acting career so diligently, messages like this began to appear in the pop-ups.
[The Shooter of the Silent Roster is bewildered.]
[Supermassive Black Hole is curious about your dream!]
Hmm. It seemed they were confused by the path I was taking.
[Focusing Genius Actor is furious!]
Sometimes it felt like they were fighting among themselves.
‘Calm down.’
I have a plan.
It seemed that not everything I experienced was being broadcast to them. They didn’t seem to know exactly what was happening when I accessed Cheong-ryeo’s system, either.
If they knew all the details… well, no. It might have caused an even bigger uproar.
‘Anyway, don’t worry.’
Hoping that the fact I was proceeding as safely as possible would be conveyed to them, I finished the shoot.
And that evening.
I received a call from Cheong-ryeo in the style of a ‘Help Menu.’
—Information request.
—One of the actors who appeared in the movie you filmed.
He was reasonable up to that point.
But he lost all sense of shame with the next sentence.
—Everything regarding that person’s weaknesses.
“……”
The difficulty level just took a massive leap.
—I’ll give you plenty of time, so you’d better bring back proper information.
If it were that easy just because we were in the same movie, every actor would have been ruined by now.
In the first place, I barely had any scenes with that person. Maybe one shot at most.
‘And usually, if a movie flops, you never see them again.’
And the atmosphere on set was that this movie was practically doomed.
“…Hmm.”
However, the truth was, I knew.
I knew why Cheong-ryeo was acting so confident.
I rubbed my chin.
This movie.
This film, which faithfully followed the ‘heist’ or ‘caper’ movie formula of ‘named criminals gathering to steal a treasure.’
I knew it was going to be a massive hit.
And the moment signs of a hit appeared, the movie would hurriedly enter additional promotion.
—I’ll do it.
A few weeks later.
The movie was eventually slotted into the off-season and released quickly.
*
[Park Moon-dae (ㅁ_ㅁ+) : Drawing a big picture.]
“Nope.”
“Don’t draw it.”
“Ah, Park Moon-dae, please.”
The people watching Dot Park Moon-dae let out groans.
The reason was simple.
‘Has there ever been a time when Park Moon-dae drew a big picture and actually considered his own well-being?!’
They had all experienced his track record, which started with performing a solo stage with broken ribs and culminated in taking a steel beam hit for a member.
They couldn’t understand why a guy who hated losing, losing out, or acting stupid—and who was incredibly calculating—was so extreme.
They assumed there must be a reason for him acting, but still.
So, they all quickly came to an agreement.
“We have to strike first.”
They had to bring him back before Park Moon-dae did something reckless to return to reality.
“By any chance, what is Moon-dae’s current stamina status?”
“One moment.”
Keun-dal bit his lip as he checked Park Moon-dae’s stamina gauge.
‘It’s almost green.’
His stamina was more than half full, and the icons indicating he was exhausted or in pain were barely appearing.
‘Lee Se-jin-nim’s sponsorship was huge.’
Keun-dal guessed that because the blessing had been used for so long, the amount of energy recovery had been substantial.
So, it was finally right in front of them.
“Now, if we just give him A-hyun-nim’s, I think we can try right away!”
“…Yes.”
Seon A-hyun nodded firmly.
As soon as the timing was right, he was ready to move.
And that timing arrived without delay.