He's the Real Culprit, Isn't He? (1)
Cha Do-jin arrived at the set early.
He could have come later, but on the first day of shooting, he always showed up hours ahead, as if killing time.
Part of it was wanting to leisurely watch the pig-head ancestral rite preparations, part superstition from his routine, and part an effort to impress the PD and writer.
The set was bustling as staff decorated the stage and prepped the rite, the atmosphere chaotic.
He flashed charming smiles at the female staff he passed, watching their faces flush red with shy fluster.
That's right, take a good look. This is the face of Korea's top handsome actor.
Of course, he never let such thoughts slip outwardly.
Then a strange sight caught his eye.
Yoo Jeong-ah, his scene partner, was sitting side by side with that no-name rookie the PD had parachuted in.
She's not the type to do that.
Yoo Jeong-ah—who was she? The queen of prickly haughtiness.
Cha Do-jin always claimed that if she'd sacrificed even half that attitude to her visuals, she'd be Asia's top beauty actress, not just Korea's.
"Jeong-ah."
"Oh, sunbae. You're here?"
Look at that.
After years of knowing each other, she still called him "sunbae" every time, drawing a clear line.
In the industry, any guy hearing "oppa" from Yoo Jeong-ah was a unicorn. A mythical creature.
"What're you doing?"
Cha Do-jin stared only at Yoo Jeong-ah, ignoring Jeong Seo-hoon entirely.
It wasn't deliberate disdain.
Just like not paying special attention to a pebble underfoot while walking.
"Just analyzing characters together."
"Character analysis? What do you two even have to sync up? You don't even have two-shots in the script."
Per the script, Yoo Jeong-ah's character never directly spoke with Private First Class Lee Jin-wook.
"He's mostly unrelated to my role. So he can give an objective take on my character, right?"
"Why bother with..."
...a total rookie no-name? Cha Do-jin luckily swallowed those words.
No, can't do that. You're always the polite, mannerly Cha Do-jin.
Shaking his head, he finally glanced at Jeong Seo-hoon.
"Nice to meet you. Let's do well today."
"Yes, thank you."
Their exchange ended there.
Yoo Jeong-ah stood as if the mood had soured, and Cha Do-jin followed alongside.
"What'd he say, really?"
"Why? Worried he made a move on me?"
"If he did, I wouldn't let it slide. Some fresh-faced nobody entertaining thoughts of cozying up to our Yoo Jeong-ah actress?"
"He was just sitting alone without a manager, looking pitiful. Reminded me of my rookie days."
"You were a star rookie from day one, flying high. Team leader manager on set from the first shoot, fussing like Hermès breeders tending crocs..."
"Let's go. PD's coming."
Yoo Jeong-ah cut him off casually.
***
"But you're really dying in episode 2? Not recurring or anything?"
Staying nonchalant was easy.
Easier than sneaking into enemy territory to blow an ammo depot.
"I die in episode 2. That's the script."
"But it just feels off somehow."
"Why's that?"
"Dunno. Wishful thinking I won't?"
Her smile was as lethally charming as her petite, pretty face.
Jeong Seo-hoon, who'd only seen her in CFs, figured she had tons of male fans.
He recalled the mid-to-late scenes Kim Sang-hee had described for emotional prep.
The female prosecutor chasing him, the scene where he kidnapped and throttled Yoo Jeong-ah's character in retaliation.
Grab that tiny, fragile neck, and it might snap before he even squeezed.
"What're you doing?"
Cha Do-jin appeared then, ending their talk.
Jeong Seo-hoon naturally closed his sketchbook, hiding the drawing. Yoo Jeong-ah eyed it wistfully before standing.
The box-office-praying pig-head rite began, PD, writer, and actors taking turns slipping money envelopes in with prayers.
Song Jeong-woo PD declared with a jolly laugh.
"Alright! Let's smash past 20% ratings again!"
***
"Shooting starts."
Filming began, freezing all set movement.
Except the actors on stage.
The opening flashbacked to Cha Do-jin's character, Koo Je-man, a rising young star judge.
-Former Judge. That lawsuit you're handling...
-Yes. What about it?
-Don't freak. The defendant suicided. Named you in the will.
-What? Suicide?
-Take sick leave, stay away from court. Don't worry. Happens all the time. Who'd rule by conscience if every deadbeat suicides over a ten-million-won debt to creditors, blaming the judge?
A defendant who suicided over a measly ten-million-won payment order, cursing him in death.
No way— not even ten million? Suicide over that?
Judge Koo Je-man double-checked his ruling, finding no errors.
But the weight on his heart didn't lift.
As always, it blew over quick in the news, and he returned to duty.
Later, he learned the truth.
The public defender's incompetence had let a statute-of-limitations defense lapse on the debt.
Ten million was life-or-death to the poor defendant, but pocket change to the loan shark plaintiff—like staff dinner money.
Not my fault. Statute aside, it was legit debt anyway...
Goo Je-man was shocked by this dark side of a world he'd thought bright.
His ruling had cost a life, indirectly.
Why didn't the public defender do their job? Didn't even know that?
Unable to bear the confusion and guilt, Goo Je-man shed his robes.
To help the poor and powerless, ensuring no more such defendants—embracing a stormy dream, he opened his own firm.
And became Seocho-gu's top divorce lawyer, cruising in a Bentley.
Clients: Gangnam housewives hunting cheating husbands.
***
"Good take. Short break, then back in."
Song Jeong-woo PD gave the OK, then huddled with the cinematographer.
Cha Do-jin quenched his throat with a drink from his manager, glancing at Jeong Seo-hoon off to the side.
His manager asked.
"Who you eyeing? Oh, Jeong Seo-hoon? Next scene's with him, right?"
"Yeah."
"Hmm, worth keeping tabs. Nail the basics, and he'll blow up fast."
"Hyung, what bullshit? When did I say I'm watching him? Why should I?"
"Good visuals."
"..."
"Impressed at reading too—stable. PD's eye for talent is uncanny."
"Visuals my ass. Flaunting that face at me?"
"C'mon, be real. Not a face you can trash that confidently."
"Who? Me?"
"No, him. He's handsome. Total actor material."
"Don't like it."
A touch irritated, but break ended.
Cha Do-jin rose from the folding chair, taking position on set.
Scene S#15 began.
Now a jaded 10-year veteran lawyer, Goo Je-man pondered for two hours where in Gangnam to dine today.
Soul detached but well-masked, he sifted lists amid whiny, luxury-draped middle-aged madams' tales.
As he wrapped reservations and stood, a light knock opened the door.
Damn it, said no walk-ins! Idiots!
-Come in. What can I do for you?
A shabbily dressed young man—Goo Je-man's eyes scanned quick.
-I just finished as a private first class.
-Medical discharge?
-Yes.
-I see. Suing the Ministry of Defense?
-No. I'm the one being sued.
-Sued?
Mid-chummy chat, Goo Je-man—no, Cha Do-jin—felt a sudden chill crawl his skin.
Sounds faded.
The studio seemed swallowed into a mirror, leaving only him and Lee Jin-wook.
Despite peripheral glimpses of tight cameras and staff.
Jeong Seo-hoon's staring eyes loomed unnaturally huge, devouring him whole.
-They say I killed my comrades.
That casual "killed" scraped like nails on old glass, chills racing.
Cha Do-jin caught it—the faint, irksome smile from reading.
A deliberate smudge in the aggrieved expression, easy to miss without piercing scrutiny.
-I'm really innocent, lawyer.
'Goo Je-man' sensed the lie.
This guy's the real culprit.
He's the Real Culprit, Isn't He? (2)
