Chapter 74
Chapter 74
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 74
Chapter Title: Nighttime Acting Lessons
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Though it was late at night, Seonwoo dove straight into the lesson for Munhyeon without delay.
Tomorrow was another shooting day. If not now, there wouldn't even be time for a lesson in the first place.
The problem was,
"So... what exactly do you want to learn?"
He still hadn't figured out what to teach.
Munhyeon looked much the same, his expression turning a bit awkward.
"It's embarrassing to say this, but... could you start by telling me what looked off to you? Honestly, I'm at a complete loss on where to even begin."
"Should I be straightforward, or soften it a little?"
"...When you put it that way, who would ask for the softened version?"
Munhyeon let out a wry chuckle and shook his head.
"Hit me with the truth. Make it spicy."
"Your acting today... didn't feel like Park Munhyeon at all."
"...Not like Park Munhyeon?"
"Right. It just came across as 'Middle-aged Man A, who's accidentally trapped in some weird place and trying to calm everyone down.' Nothing more."
"......"
Munhyeon was left speechless by the critique that exceeded all his expectations.
He'd braced for something like "terrible," "awkward line delivery," or "stiff expressions." But not like Park Munhyeon at all? That was a blow he hadn't even imagined, and all the more painful for it.
"Could you describe who Park Munhyeon is in one line?"
"Hmm..."
Munhyeon hesitated before answering.
"Someone who's lived without ever knowing who he really is... I suppose."
Even as he said it, Munhyeon felt a strange pang.
It wasn't just the Park Munhyeon from Room. It felt like it described him too.
Seonwoo picked up on it.
"Do you think it sounds like you, sir?"
"Can't deny it. I've only ever known work and home. That's just how it is for family men."
A life where not knowing yourself was the norm.
A life where even trying to figure it out felt like an extravagance.
"So, how do you feel right now?"
"Hmm... Happy, I guess."
"And what about Park Munhyeon in Room?"
"Well..."
Munhyeon started to reply but faltered as he met Seonwoo's gaze.
Those eyes burned with intensity, like an athlete high on adrenaline, the inner fire ready to burst forth at any moment.
He wasn't even talking about his own role—just acting in general—and yet his passion boiled over like this.
It was the kind of look that explained why everyone called Seonwoo a genius.
Munhyeon had seen it rarely during his corporate days.
Some young CEOs starting new ventures had that spark. And in time, they delivered results just as bright.
Munhyeon thought to himself,
how great it would be to witness Seonwoo achieve that brilliance firsthand.
It would surely be a magnificent sight.
"...Sir?"
"Ah, sorry. Got lost in thought. Right, Park Munhyeon... happiness might be hard in that spot. Facing possible death and all."
Seonwoo shook his head at Munhyeon's words.
"Hm... It'd be tough to call it pure happiness, but I think it's more like a state of awakening. And Park Munhyeon rejects the idea that this is even a deadly situation."
"He doesn't realize it's dangerous?"
"It's not that he can't—he won't. To him, this mess is a chance for everything to change. In a way, what Park Munhyeon embodies here... is hope. The hope that maybe it's not as dire as it seems."
"Then if that Park Munhyeon dies... the others would sink even deeper into despair."
"Exactly. His death carries meaning. It's the device that reveals the hopelessness of their reality."
"Ah......"
Munhyeon let out a sigh.
The script he'd read didn't evoke this vibe.
Suddenly kidnapped into a bizarre space.
Park Munhyeon, dragged through life by his job, tries to change. He takes the lead in mediating, even volunteering as the first 'eliminee'... but ends up dead anyway.
Munhyeon had seen it as portraying the tragedy of a man who never becomes the protagonist of his own life. Who knew Seonwoo saw so much more.
Relentless.
That was Munhyeon's impression.
Seonwoo's gaze pierced people with ruthless precision and persistence.
Of course, that's what enabled his acting in the first place.
This won't be easy.
Cold sweat beaded on his skin.
When he'd first asked for help, he'd imagined some casual tips to tweak. But this seemed far more intense.
Seonwoo had no intention of settling for half-measures.
He was pushing Munhyeon toward genius-level acting.
Munhyeon could already see it.
How grueling and distant that path would be.
But he didn't back down.
"Could you watch me act once?"
"Of course."
Asking lessons from a thirty-something kid wasn't embarrassing.
But fleeing because he couldn't handle them...
That would be utterly shameful.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Room was shot with amateur actors.
For such a production, the set atmosphere had been surprisingly positive so far.
Park Myeongjin never took a lax "they're amateurs, it's fine" attitude. From the start, he'd declared,
"I'll treat you all as pros."
"So show me pro-level acting. Real actor stuff."
And fortunately, the cast had delivered solid performances for amateurs.
Some even rivaled working pros.
But amateurs were still amateurs.
"What do we do about our department head?"
"...Yeah. He looked wiped out yesterday."
Eventually, limits showed.
Specifically, Munhyeon's. The others fretted, recalling his off day.
No way he'd transformed overnight... If things stayed like this, shooting would lag, and Munhyeon himself seemed headed for burnout.
"Seonwoo was working with him, at least..."
"Does Seonwoo even teach well?"
"No idea."
Hyeseong shrugged at Minhee's question.
Seonwoo had never formally taught anyone. Closest was syncing breaths with Hyungbin and Sion during the room assignment mission.
But Munhyeon's issue wasn't that.
Pure skill gap.
No quick advice would fix it.
And naturally, Park Myeongjin had the worst headache.
This is why I insisted on pre-production.
Time was short.
Stuck on Munhyeon, the schedule would slip, tanking not just this scene but Episode 2's quality overall.
But skimping wasn't an option...
This scene set Room's tone. The crucial first button.
No room for half-assing.
Unless Munhyeon magically nailed it overnight, satisfaction seemed unlikely.
Park Myeongjin's face darkened in the deadlock.
And so,
"33 years. I've given 33 years of my life to the company. No family, no real hobbies. The company was my family and hobby."
'...Hm?'
"But here we are. Truth is... I've never truly lived my own life."
"...Regrets?"
"No, I'm grateful, actually."
'Oh?'
"At least now I realize how vital it is to take ownership of your life."
'Oho!'
Park Myeongjin's face lit up quickly.
Park Munhyeon, having calmed the group, chats with Kim Seonwoo before the vote.
'What? What's this?'
Munhyeon's acting had improved.
Not just a bit—perfectly capturing the nuance Park Myeongjin wanted, overnight.
Anxious yet vibrant, hopeful in a mismatched way... that alien positivity shone through.
'Did his character grasp deepen?'
No clue.
Didn't matter. Reasons weren't Park Myeongjin's concern now.
'At this level... even that scene should be fine.'
His eyes sparkled.
Munhyeon's death had worried him most.
The hope-crushing moment revealing the game's terror... essentially kicking off Room.
Yesterday it seemed distant, but with this character work, maybe he'd deliver.
'Show me that veteran gravitas, Munhyeon. You can do it!'
Facing Park Myeongjin's fervent gaze, Munhyeon...
"...Feels different."
...nodded quietly at Seonwoo.
He didn't need to see Park Myeongjin's face to know. This was acting leagues beyond yesterday.
And honestly...
"All thanks to you. Seriously."
"Nah. You worked hard for it, sir."
"You need water before paddling matters."
It was all Seonwoo's doing.
Munhyeon meant it. Since last night, Seonwoo had gone above and beyond—"no need to do this much."
It wasn't just reinterpreting the character.
"Maybe raise the end of that line? It'd highlight Park Munhyeon finding hope amid this."
"Too confident there. Not lacking confidence, but... he ignores anxiety, averts it. Show it with averted eyes."
Seonwoo dissected every tiny detail.
Even paid coaches might not go this deep.
Not pure altruism, though.
...Got too immersed.
It was fun.
Watching Park Munhyeon shift hues was one thing, but feeling his own colors dye with it whenever Park Munhyeon shone... Seonwoo couldn't help diving in.
Excitement built.
How would he react when Park Munhyeon truly gleamed? How would he sparkle in response?
And then,
"Scene 26, action!"
That moment finally rolled.
Park Munhyeon, who'd nominated himself as eliminee... meets his end.
Voting happens in locked rooms.
Everyone writes his name... and Park Munhyeon raises his voice from inside.
"Don't worry, everyone! It'll be fine! We'll all... go home! Start over!"
What emotion laced that voice?
Hope? Anxiety? Unknowable. Even to Park Munhyeon, a tangled mess too complex to name.
But the follow-up was clear.
—An eliminee has been selected.
—Player 'Park Munhyeon' is now eliminated from the game.
—Commencing elimination procedure.
Malice.
A chill treating them as less than human.
And right then—
"N-no, ugh, ah, no! P-please. Stop, st— KAAAAAAGH———!"
Park Munhyeon's scream echoes.
That ever-positive voice, preaching hope, now torn apart in agony.
The other players can only listen from their waiting rooms.
In that horrific reality, Seonwoo...
...Incredible.
...felt a thrill of ecstasy.
Not madness.
His ashen hue, always gray—even absorbing others' light only briefly—finally glowed full.
Bluish-green, like Park Munhyeon's leaves, however faintly.
Proof of the death's profound impact on him, filling the space.
A shiver raced his spine as Seonwoo intuited:
Park Munhyeon's death—this Episode 2—would force even the skeptical public to uncross their arms.
It would drive them wild.