Chapter 62
Chapter 62
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 62
Chapter Title: Live Stakes
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"They even embedded LEDs here."
Minhee let out a hollow laugh as she eyed the sliding door to the private room.
It really felt like she'd stepped into some kind of space station. The problem was, this wasn't a space base—it was a brutal survival arena where they fought tooth and nail to stay alive.
"Somehow... it feels real."
Minhee nodded silently at Jieun's words.
The set's quality was so high it made her feel like she was actually competing in this game.
Her heart was pounding.
She could sense it just from looking at the set.
This drama... it's going to be fun...
'How much budget did they sink into this?'
The budget for [I Am an Actor] alone was no small change, and now they were covering this drama too...
"YBS really went all out..."
Minhee muttered.
Justin nodded as he watched her.
"Totally legit, for real."
"English again."
"Uh, sorry. It's just a habit, you know."
Minhee chuckled at Justin's playful tone as Seonwoo slowly took in the studio.
The layout was simple.
A long corridor lined with five rooms on each side, ending in a massive common area.
'...This is where the game goes down.'
Even as Kim Seonwoo's gray mood wrapped around him, Seonwoo's eyes sparkled for a moment.
A space created just for them.
How could his heart not race?
"Everyone's here."
And that was the moment.
A familiar voice drew all eyes.
It was Im Yeongdo.
Since filming on [One Room] had begun, he'd been scarce, so a few faces lit up with pleasant surprise... but true to form, Im Yeongdo dove straight into business.
"Great work, everyone. I'm here for a quick briefing."
"...What kind?"
"About how the missions will play out from here! We've been so focused on the drama that we haven't properly explained the details, right?"
It was true.
No word on what happened to existing scores or how eliminations would work.
"To cut to the chase, forget your cumulative scores."
Im Yeongdo dropped the bomb right out of the gate.
Music to the ears of the low scorers, but not so welcome for Seonwoo and the top ranks.
The underdogs reflexively scanned their faces...
'They don't even care.'
Not one showed a hint of concern over scores.
Overconfident? Or just done with numbers?
Maybe it was the thrill of this studio.
Just standing here made it feel like they were shooting a real drama.
Im Yeongdo pressed on.
"From TOP 10 on, cumulative scores are gone. You'll get evaluated each episode, and that decides if you survive."
Seonwoo watched him silently.
He'd half-expected it. Cumulative scores only widened gaps over time.
With just ten left, sticking to it would spoil eliminations before the next episode even aired.
Not ideal for dragging out the show.
He wouldn't say he was thrilled to lose his lead, but it didn't faze him much.
What did catch his attention was,
"You'll earn two scores going forward: judges' and audience. But set aside any popularity vote worries—audience weight is just 10%."
Of course, tight races could still hinge on that 10%.
But that was unavoidable.
An actor's worth wasn't just raw skill.
Charm that hooked the crowd was a skill too.
10% was generous restraint, really.
"Every episode airs live from now on. Real-time drama broadcast, followed immediately by your judging. Live audience too, so if you have family or friends to invite, let the staff know."
Live.
Not a huge shock.
Plenty of shows switched to live around TOP 10.
Theirs was a drama, so probably just the judging went live.
Eyes began to sparkle with anticipation.
Meeting those gazes, Im Yeongdo delivered the final notice.
"Finally, after [One Room] episode 1 airs, two people drop."
Two.
A few eyes dimmed at that.
One was survivable; two felt personal.
Im Yeongdo quietly savored the tense faces, then spotted Seonwoo and froze.
'...Heard the talk, but.'
He hadn't seen Seonwoo in the past ten days.
Editing and outside commitments had eaten his time.
So he'd brushed off the crew's "Seonwoo's off lately" warnings... but seeing it now, he got it.
Dark.
The old Seonwoo wasn't bubbly, but approachable... now even eye contact was tough.
'Method acting or not, is this okay?'
He worried.
What if the character consumed him?
Normally he'd call it overthinking, but per Ryu, Seonwoo had severe depression baseline. Acting could retrigger it.
When he'd voiced the concern, Ryu's response was a sight.
—Could happen.
—Huh?
—Something bad. Reliving depression through acting? Total trigger.
—Th-then what? Get him a counselor?
—Maybe... but nah.
—Why?
—Ruins the acting.
Im Yeongdo still couldn't shake Ryu's creepy smile.
—He needs to sink deeper... makes for better footage.
'Not quirky. Psycho.'
He knew it.
Most "geniuses" in this industry weren't all there mentally.
But he couldn't just watch a mental breakdown for the sake of the show.
People over product.
Im Yeongdo was still that old-school romantic PD. ◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "You okay?"
Not just Im Yeongdo had Seonwoo on his mind.
Seonwoo turned. A middle-aged man with deep crow's feet and nasolabial folds gazed at him.
"Ah, Section Chief."
Nickname, of course. Real name: Park Moonhyeon.
The oldest among the remaining contestants.
Skin so smooth and body so toned it was hard to believe he was over fifty. The kind of guy who made you think, "Yeah, that's how I want to age."
Before TOP 10, they'd had little overlap, but since then, they'd chatted now and then.
"Do I look that rough? Everyone's been worried lately."
"Can't blame them. Dark circles, vacant eyes... checked your weight? You've dropped some."
"...Weight too? That's bad. Once I lose it, no amount of eating brings it back."
"Don't push too hard."
Park Moonhyeon watched Seonwoo quietly.
"Anything worth doing needs rest... or you'll end up hating it."
Hard to brush off.
Park had been a company man before the show. Seonwoo nodded.
"Got it. I'll keep that in mind."
"Yeah. It's supposed to be good for you, not torture."
Torture.
He didn't quite see it that way.
But if asked if it was fun... that was trickier.
He still loved acting.
But playing "Kim Seonwoo"? More grueling than joyful, somehow.
Seonwoo had fallen for acting because he craved that vibrant, colorful world.
Yet his days now were unrelentingly gray, devoid of any primary hues. Hard to call it pure fun.
Seonwoo glanced down at his outfit.
Game start meant everyone donned these stark white game suits—restraint-style with buckles here and there.
Suffocating.
Not just the clothes.
He needed color.
Craved it.
If it were the old days, he wouldn't have this thirst.
He'd thought vivid, rainbow lives were for the chosen few—not someone like him.
A life reserved for the special.
But acting had let him revel in those colors endlessly.
Now it felt like withdrawal.
Forcing gray into everyday life... it wore on him.
Then drop the method acting?
Well...
"Shooting starts soon!"
Seonwoo raised his hand.
His perpetually gray hand now floated with color bubbles.
He popped them... and he, his breath, his gaze—everything around him drained to gray.
Drowsiness flooded in, cold bit at his skin, haze made him float. Seonwoo slowly exhaled gray breath.
Kim Seonwoo was a dull character.
Boring to stare at, no charm, not even pretty.
No colors.
But one thing he had to admit.
Playing Kim Seonwoo...
"Ready—action!"
Was easy.
Annoyingly so. ◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "...Insane."
Beyond the screen, Park Myungjin brushed goosebumps from his arms and shook his head.
Never got used to it, no matter how many times.
"Kept saying he's good... but how far is he planning to take it?"
"......"
"Where were we?"
Park Myungjin turned to Im Yeongdo.
And smirked inwardly. Im Yeongdo stared blankly at Seonwoo on screen, face like he couldn't believe his own eyes.
Park asked with a mocking smile.
"Shouldn't we tell him to drop the method acting?"