Barely Made It Out Alive
I kept my eyes tense and widened as I smiled.
"I've barely even seen your face, though? Doesn't seem like you come here that often."
One of the gangsters drawled, his tone loose and slurred. He was one of the Funny Capsule dealers—part of the crew people called the MZ gangsters. Sliding a thick silver ring around his finger, he took a leisurely sip of his whiskey with one hand.
"...Ugh, so annoying. Always nitpicking my face."
Influencer 1 already knew exactly who he was. But there was no way she could just quietly walk away now.
I swept my hair back with one hand, as if exasperated. It was one of Influencer 1's signature habits.
"I just squint my eyes a tiny bit, and the filler—okay, fine, I only got a couple CCs, barely anything! It's practically natural! Can't you recognize me just because I got a little prettier?"
"...Huh?"
"You copied my Youstagram ID the month before last and you didn't even send me a DM!!! That's why I did it, happy now?!!!"
I threw the most clichéd club anecdote at him, enough to scramble his memory. Nearby, banter crackled back and forth as the other gangsters teased him for being a bad man.
"What's your ID, then? Are we following each other right now?"
"No. Not right now, we're not. You annoyed me so I blocked you."
A cheer mixed with jeers rang out. The gangsters went back to their drinks, snickering and cackling. Even the extras, half out of their minds, clapped and laughed along. Everyone was riding the effects of the Funny Capsule.
"But you came back in? In here?"
"...Annoying is annoying, but..."
Anxiety squeezed around my heart like a vise. I'd gotten past one hurdle, but my fingertips kept trembling at the thought of the lie being exposed.
If I really get caught, it's over...!
The fear kept rising up my throat, and I felt like I might cry. The only person here sober was Influencer 1.
Worse, I was farthest from the door. Without thinking, Influencer 1 swept her hair back again and touched the radio hidden behind her ear. Come now. Hurry.
Krrk—
A faint voice crackled through the earpiece. It's okay. He'll be here soon. A fragile little bud of faith in Detective Yoon and Detective Gwak began to bloom.
"I heard the rumors, so I came. Your crew's pretty famous."
Influencer 1 said carefully. The gangster who'd been snickering just moments ago shifted, his expression turning intrigued.
"I want in on your crew too. How do I do that?"
This was the innermost room of the place. You had to pass through several doors just to get in. I'd explained the location to them before I entered, so they'd be here soon.
"Ohhh~?"
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
My heart pounded so hard it hurt—felt like it might give out. The gangster's serpentine gaze, fixed straight on me, was razor sharp.
"Heard the rumors, huh. Then—this?"
From inside his jacket, he produced an envelope sealed with a smiley sticker. Grinning, he waved it at me.
I pretended to fix my fallen hair and brushed the radio behind my ear once more. Hurry. Hurry up and come. Hurry.
"Yeah. That's it."
"Wow... little thing's got some nerve, huh... Hey. You gotta know what it does before you can sell it right."
Rustle—
The sound of the envelope opening seemed impossibly loud.
"Don't be stingy and hand them out one at a time. Just give me the whole thing."
Gulp. I swallowed dryly the instant the sentence left my mouth. My mouth kept going bone-dry.
Every gangster's eyes in the room were pinned on me.
A razor-edged silence sliced through the air like a blade. A few seconds stretched on unbearably long. And then—
"Aha-hah! Look at this kid. Tiny thing's got zero fear."
"It's a lady doing the asking~. Oh, my apologies!"
"Chang-seok, she just asked for the whole batch. Give it to her! Don't be such a cheapskate, man!"
The gangsters, faces flushed with drink, slapped the table and roared with laughter, trading the kind of crude jokes you'd hear on any downtown street corner.
The lie had landed.
At last, the envelope with the smiley sticker was in my hands. And the moment I secured the evidence—
BANG—!!!
"Ah, for f—'s sake, this place is a damn maze. You bastards, how the hell are we supposed to chase anyone if the building's twisted up like this when it catches fire? Looks like we'll have to drill emergency exits into every single wall!"
"Haah..."
With a thunderous crash, the door burst open—
"Ah, why are you only here NOW!!!"
The detectives came pouring in. I was alive.
"Yes, just like that—! We're changing the camera setup and going again."
It had been quite a long take, but no NG sounded.
The tension and fear had come through perfectly. Yoon Hyun-jo had looked straight into Han Yeo-reum's eyes the moment the door opened. It was nothing like the way she'd teared up beyond the window last time. Back then she'd been flustered, scrambling—now she was a little more...
Like someone who'd just barely survived.
It felt like he'd caught hold of a key turning point: the moment Detective Yoon began, little by little, to be colored by Detective Gwak.
As far as Yoon Hyun-jo had interpreted the character, everyone in the world ranked beneath Detective Yoon. Detective Yoon was an elite. He'd become a police officer to stand above people who didn't properly honor justice or the law.
That was Yoon Hyun-jo's reading of Detective Yoon. As the story went on, he did build a certain bond with Detective Gwak and the investigation squad, but that feeling never extended all the way to Influencer 1 or ordinary citizens.
"Actor Yoon Hyun-jo—! We're going to run the action one more time before the take!"
And yet Influencer 1 had trusted the detective. She'd looked at him with eyes that believed he would save her, no matter what.
That wasn't in the calculations. Yoon Hyun-jo ran through the sequence he'd rehearsed with the martial arts coordinator in advance: a left jab, a brief dip of the body, then a clean, upright kick.
"Perfect! Absolutely flawless. Repeating that move over and over really paid off."
To the beaming coordinator and the assistant director, Yoon Hyun-jo made a rather spectacularly inefficient suggestion.
"...Would it be all right if I added one more move?"
Yoon Hyun-jo's mind was spinning fast. Detective Yoon showed favor only to people within his own boundary—just a very slight, very tiny sliver of warmth. He wanted to show a hairline fracture running through that cold temperament.
"Director Gong. I'd like to do an ad-lib here."
"Hyun-jo... you're announcing an ad-lib in advance?"
"Doing it out of nowhere on set would be inefficient, after all. It just came to me now, so it still counts as an ad-lib, right?"
"Right, right, of course it does! But seriously, what's going on? Our Hyun-jo doing ad-libs—I'm reporting this to everyone. What's brought on this change of heart~!"
At Yoon Hyun-jo's additional suggestion, Director Gong clapped a hand over his mouth, visibly moved.
Yoon Hyun-jo gazed off into the distance at Yeo-reum, whose makeup had smudged from tears and who was now sitting for touch-up makeup all over again.
Wow. It's genuinely on another level...
Watching the storm of an action sequence unfold right in front of me left me speechless.
I'd crawled under the table and given my own passionate performance, but it didn't even come close to the way Detective Yoon and Detective Gwak moved their bodies.
Especially that last bit.
There was a move where the two of them threw punches in perfect sync—bracing their cores and using the recoil to swing their whole upper bodies through it. It was no joke.
Someday, I really want to try action scenes too.
In the middle of the shattered set, Yoon Hyun-jo—sitting for wound makeup on the back of his reddened hand—caught my eye and beckoned.
"You called for me, senior?"