It Suits Him? (2)
Private Lee Jin-wook, the army murderer.
One of the supporting roles in the drama.
He appears only in episode 1 before exiting, serving as the trigger that awakens the protagonist lawyer Koo Je-man.
The young soldier heads to a Korean military base in the Middle East, thinking it's just a routine overseas deployment, only to witness horrific war crimes that shatter his mind.
Forced by laughing seniors and officers who try to make him an accomplice, he snaps, and when he comes to, he's gunned them all down.
The local unit covers it up as "stress relief," demanding he perjure himself.
But haunted every night by dreams of dozens of child corpses, he confesses everything to the protagonist lawyer in his agony before taking his own life.
Though he appears in just one episode, his role in sparking the protagonist lawyer's awakening makes chemistry and acting crucial.
Song Jeong-woo had suggested to writer Kim Sang-hee to age him up to a non-commissioned officer or even an officer instead of a regular private.
But Kim Sang-hee refused every time.
—Our core viewers are housewives. To squeeze them emotionally, we need a setup where they think, 'My son could be in that unfair, grueling situation.'
This guy... wouldn't he fit perfectly?
At least, the glint in his eyes, his demeanor, and movements up until moments ago weren't something an average actor could pull off.
He was surely an unknown rookie actor.
That was when it happened.
"Sorry about that."
Jeong Seo-hoon released Kim Hyun-tae and bowed his head.
It felt like ages had passed, but it probably hadn't even been five seconds.
Jeong Seo-hoon politely handed back the bag.
"I was practicing for an audition and got too immersed, leading to my rudeness. I'm truly sorry."
Only then did Kim Hyun-tae's pale face gradually return to normal.
"Hrm. Young guy's got some intense reactions. Still, you can't just dive into a role anywhere. Could cause a big accident."
"I'm sorry."
"Ah, Hyun-tae. It's audition day; he must've been nervous. Right, here for the Illegal audition?"
"Yes. That's why I'm here."
Jeong Seo-hoon bowed once more, and Song Jeong-woo took a good look at his face and build.
If he was here for the audition, they'd meet again within hours.
"Good luck."
***
Instinct had taken the lead, so now reason had to clean up the mess.
Jeong Seo-hoon pondered the most natural way to extricate himself from this situation.
He had experience navigating far more brutal, life-or-death crises with split-second decisions.
'Audition.'
He suddenly recalled there was an open audition today.
Judging by their attire, they were definitely from the broadcasting station.
So Jeong Seo-hoon offered the most natural, plausible excuse.
That he'd been practicing for an audition, got too immersed, and made a mistake.
The man he'd subdued wore an expression of lingering displeasure and awkwardness.
But when his companion, who seemed like a superior, laughed good-naturedly and wrapped it up, he had no choice but to accept the apology.
"So, here for the Illegal audition? Good luck."
The superior-looking man clapped him on the shoulder amiably before leading his subordinate into the studio.
There was no pride or joy in narrowly escaping danger.
On the battlefield, situations were far more urgent, riskier, with comrades dying right beside you.
Jeong Seo-hoon gazed at their retreating backs with detached calm when he suddenly realized something.
The footsteps approaching from behind were deliberately veering wide to avoid him.
He deliberately didn't turn to check their expressions.
Instead, his eyes fell on a script from the box Jeong Su-ryeon had briefly set down.
[Illegal: Lawbreakers]
Jeong Su-ryeon, who had been rushing over, grabbed the box while cursing.
"Fucking hell. What a pain."
"......"
"Ah, not talking about your face. Go home for now."
"Home?"
"I told Mom. She'll give you this one box, so take it and come back. No time—hurry."
"Pack everything at once next time."
"Shut up and go quick if you want paid."
The sticky, alien sensation lingered in his mouth like grit from packed dirt.
The concept of family, triggered by Jeong Su-ryeon, filled him with aversion.
This subtle disconnect made him realize he was leaning toward the soldier's side.
Not a perfect 5:5 split—maybe 3:7.
The soldier side at 7. Or perhaps even more...
The constant objectification of himself as "Jeong Seo-hoon" rather than "me" was proof.
Jeong Seo-hoon drove home.
His mother, ready to head out, grumbled nonstop.
"That damn girl. I told her I have afternoon plans, and now she's making me wait like this. Stuck here—what the hell."
"Jeong Su-ryeon... why'd she quit acting to work as production staff?"
It wasn't idle curiosity.
It was training to reintegrate into Jeong Seo-hoon's daily life.
Like repeating dumbbell curls to rebuild strength.
A form of rehab.
"Quit acting? When was she ever an actress? You have to actually do it first to quit."
"......?"
"Never passed a single extra audition. Chased auditions, dreamed big, finally snapped out of it."
"Was that so?"
Jeong Seo-hoon responded in a flat tone.
Part of the training to blend back in.
"Know your place. Gets called pretty by people around her, thinks she's the world's beauty. Acting? Anyone can? With a face that barely scrapes the bottom of chart-topping girl groups."
Jeong Seo-hoon pondered here.
Should he chuckle along?
But he didn't know how to chuckle.
'Timing's already missed.'
"Better than when she had celebrity delusions and couldn't function. Must be frustrating for you, Seo-hoon, but help your sister. If she meets a successful PD and marries well, even better."
Jeong Seo-hoon realized his mother was more pragmatic than expected.
"Su-ryeon's got a box on the desk—take that. Too heavy for me."
"Got it."
Good. She didn't find it odd.
Still, he didn't relax, constantly assessing his state.
'Can't repeat that mistake.'
Cross-checking surroundings, memories, records—he pinned down one thing.
'To a third party, my actions now resemble Rashid more than Jeong Seo-hoon. Just wearing Jeong Seo-hoon's face.'
His mindset leaned heavily toward soldier Rashid.
Jeong Seo-hoon's memories weren't foggy.
But three perilous years as Rashid amplified the soldier's identity overwhelmingly.
***
This peaceful room of Jeong Su-ryeon's felt utterly alien.
Never thought it'd remind him of the cramped, uncomfortable crew bunks on a combat ship.
A suffocating tightness closed in.
'Thought discharge after the war would fix everything.'
When artillery lulled, they'd always chat about post-discharge life.
Start a business, open a factory, date a hundred girls...
Rashid too had dreamed of life after the war.
Never look at this hellish battlefield again; hide if war reignited.
But hurled into this world in an instant, he missed the combat deck's metallic tang like separation anxiety.
Like a rookie pilot straggling from formation, desperately seeking the carrier on fumes.
—Tick tick. Tick tick tick. Tick tick.
A strange sound from the window—before thought, his body reacted.
Jeong Seo-hoon whipped around and lunged; the pigeon on the sill startled and flapped away.
Too feeble to escape quickly; next instant, its leg was in his hand.
The battlefield-hardened brain's neural command overloaded muscles unaccustomed to it.
Too fast, overexerting his whole body.
Muscles tingled from fingertips to toes; unable to bear the pain, he released the pigeon.
The terrified bird flapped far away, and he stood frozen, staring at his hand.
All five fingers trembled.
He raised the other hand—ten fingers shook symmetrically.
Just a pigeon pecking the windowsill.
But in that moment, he'd flashed back to searching a reed-choked field.
He'd heard a similar sound then.
Tick tick. Tick tick tick. Tick tick.
Like a small beak on twigs—it was the ratcheting of traps triggered by a comrade.
Explosions everywhere, screaming soldiers crumpling, world upside down, comrades' vacant dying eyes...
"Hah... hahh... hah..."
One Doesn't Go This Far (1)