Fearsome Table Read
Over the past four days, I'd been trying to understand the character Hui-yul.
Unlike the natural performance at the audition, it wasn't easy. Of course, the life of this character Hui-yul was something I'd never experienced.
But it wasn't all that difficult either.
'Hui-yul dies.'
That was enough.
Writer Baek Chae-i didn't describe Hui-yul's death in much detail. In the chaos of battle, he gets shot in the nape of the neck and dies—that's it.
But from my perspective as a pro who's endured countless deaths, that kind of death for Hui-yul just felt off, like it didn't fit.
'A normal person couldn't die like that.'
I was convinced Writer Baek Chae-i had hidden some intent in there.
Once the tide turned against him, Chief State Councillor Jeong Ji-uk pulled all his elite troops out and used them to strike the crown prince from behind. In other words, there were no opponents on the front lines who could match Hui-yul while he was rampaging.
Forget generals—even the archers were just hastily gathered militia.
Hui-yul wouldn't fall to arrows like that.
Which meant...
Hui-yul chose to die.
'Why?'
All the deaths I'd suffered in my dreams were slowly piecing together the puzzle of who Hui-yul was.
Who was Hui-yul? A warrior from the lowest class, a cheonmin.
A cheonmin couldn't take the civil service exams, but his martial prowess was too valuable to waste.
Choi Myeong, the Minister of Personnel and the crown prince's closest aide, had tried to recommend Hui-yul for a position as low as sema in the Crown Prince's Guard, but he ran into opposition from the assembly. In the end, he hired Hui-yul as his personal bodyguard to bolster the crown prince's forces.
Writer Baek Chae-i doesn't mention what Hui-yul did before the timeline of King and Sovereign begins. He appears fully formed from the very start of the story.
But I knew his end.
The battle takes place at dusk by the sea. There's a description of a beautiful sunset, and a line where Hui-yul sees it and thinks he needs to hurry the fight.
Hui-yul saw the sunset. That's the truth.
In Albert Camus's The Stranger, Meursault kills a man because 'the sun was blinding.'
Conversely, couldn't Hui-yul have chosen death because 'the sunset was beautiful'?
I recalled a battlefield from one of my dreams.
Blood pools.
Screams pile up.
Those who shout the grandest ideals about justice stay farthest from death. Amid their roaring, where the volume of the clamor could be measured by the amount of blood— that's where Hui-yul would have been.
And then, the sunset.
Calm as ever.
It doesn't care about the difference between children laughing and playing tag in the village or adults slashing each other with spears and swords. Just as sunlight indifferently watches ant armies march or locust swarms take flight, it merely observes humanity's soldier games.
Hui-yul was watching it.
That redness.
That aloofness.
The one closest to the blood's owners, the one who'd spilled the most, the one at the forefront—watching it all.
Once I pictured that, it all made sense.
'Indeed.'
He had to die.
Of course.
"Amazing, Writer! It took me ages to figure out your intent. And when I think about it, it was such an obvious death!"
"...I, I didn't think that far. He just died."
"Pardon?"
"Oh, n-no! I might've had a feeling like that, maybe... or not..."
"Indeed!"
I couldn't help but be deeply impressed by Writer Baek Chae-i's humility.
This must be the difference between me, dreaming of being the king of Unbelievable, and this talented writer who's already handling weekend dramas for her second project.
But despite my admiring gaze, Baek Chae-i looked pale for some reason, stammering her words.
How to put it—she seemed to be breaking a bit of a sweat.
'...?'
I found it a little odd, but soon understood. The environment around us was pretty horrific, after all.
I glanced around and muttered softly.
"By the way, they say script readings are usually about warming up and syncing, but why is the atmosphere so cutthroat? Is it always like this?"
Writer Baek Chae-i blinked.
Her expression was blank.
"...You're joking, right?"
"Pardon?"
"Huh?"
#
First off, there was one thing even Baek Chae-i had to admit.
Over the past few days, she'd been a little off her rocker.
"Ehehehe... hehe..."
"Mom, unnie's gone crazy!"
"She's always like that."
"No, she is, but this time she's really lost it!!"
Having a writer for a sister meant getting used to her suddenly giggling maniacally while pounding the keyboard, or muttering darkly, "I can't forgive, can't forgive..." while mangling her notebook, or yelling, "This is trash! I'm a shit-for-brains!" before headbutting the wall.
But no one gets used to a 24/7 giggling monster.
Her little sister trembled in fear.
But Baek Chae-i had no time to mind her sister.
Kang Min had never actually said those last words, but Baek Chae-i thought the nuance was close enough.
The intellectual Baek Chae-i couldn't help but chuckle elegantly every time she recalled them.
"Fuhi hi..."
"Mooooom!!"
So, when Park Seong-ho picked a fight with Kang Min, Baek Chae-i's mood wasn't exactly pleasant.
Not because she had any special feelings for Kang Min, but intimidating him was basically saying her judgment—and PD Yu Ho-hyeon's—was wrong. Something like that level of dissatisfaction.
At least, that's what she thought.
"Guhk...!"
But Kang Min returned the provocation with elegant grace.
As the room gasped at the fallen Kang Min, the veteran actors with years of experience, along with the PD and writer, all widened their eyes.
They knew what Kang Min was doing.
'This is completely different from last time...!'
'I thought nothing could top the cafe performance...'
Originally, Hui-yul was a role who dies pathetically from a surprise attack from behind. That's why the performance Kang Min showed at the cafe was laced with shock and dismay.
The wide-eyed incomprehension, the desperate writhing to survive, the defiant refusal to accept such a death—
But this revised Hui-yul was different.
'A serene death.'
No.
'A welcomed death...'
Ironically, it was only after seeing Hui-yul die before her eyes that Baek Chae-i finally understood how he'd lived, what kind of man he was.
The writer who penned him realized his essence only through the actor's performance.
The others were even more stunned. The veterans, especially Park Seong-ho, had eyes bulging endlessly.
With that one move, Kang Min had crushed all the senior actors at once.
It should have ended there.
'I'm disappointed, sunbaenim!'
'For real!!'
—Until Kang Min just flopped over flat.
'?'
What was this?
What the hell was I watching?
'...?'
Ten minutes later, the revived Kang Min barely salvaged the situation and admitted it was all acting, as Park Seong-ho had demanded.
And he tacked on an excuse that no one could see as genuine.
"I, I was trying to make the fall feel real, and I think I hit my head wrong. Lost consciousness for a bit."
"Pardon? You mean that was acting?!"
"Yes, it was Hui-yul's final death scene, so... I'm really sorry..."
"Good lord...!"
By now, the shock and awe at Kang Min's acting were nothing new.
The staff sighed in relief that the mishap had ended peacefully, while whispering among themselves. Everyone had their doubts, and a actor they'd dismissed as a hack had shown astonishing skill. Naturally, expectations for the uneasy project rose.
However,
The four veteran actors, still dazed, saw it differently.
While the room buzzed with murmurs, they interpreted Kang Min's lame excuse in a whole other light.
'Passed out? What nonsense...!'
'That was 100% acting. Perfect Hui-yul right up to the collapse.'
'He's calling that an excuse?!'
They were certain. Kang Min had no intention of excusing himself from the start.
Which meant,
His intent was blatantly obvious.
'He's pissed and slammed right into it. 'I did it, so what?' That's the vibe...!'
Park Seong-ho ground his teeth.
He'd bullied Kang Min based on prejudice and rumors. Kang Min had shut him down clean with pure acting skill.
It was a provocation so elegant it bordered on classy.
Arrogant. Insolent.
But the kid had earned the right.
'Kuh...!'
Park Seong-ho's pride wouldn't let him stoop to grabbing the kid by the collar here—it'd look ugly, and he'd been the ugly one.
But he had no intention of losing either.
'Fine. Time to show him what for...!'
Fire lit in Park Seong-ho's eyes.
The beginning of all the horrific chaos.
"H-Hello! I'm Yi Hwan-jae, playing Crown Prince Yi Jeong... not Ike. Nice to meet you!"
"I'm Park Yeon-ju, playing the heroine Min Jin-ah!"
...The fact that the main victims weren't Kang Min but the two idol actors made it especially horrific.
#
"...Let's do this right."
"Yes, sorry, sunbaenim!!"
Generally, script readings aren't all that intense.
The point isn't to show off 'Look how well I act!'—it's about syncing with each other.
Forcing intensity is pointless. It's more sensible to discuss acting directions and tone combinations.
—In other words, the current script reading scene was anything but sensible.
'Damn it, what the hell! What's going on!!'
'Hiiik!'
Yi Hwan-jae, playing the crown prince, had decent acting for an idol. Among his peers, he was a standout.
Enough that he'd had every right to boast about showing that 'parachute actor' a lesson just hours ago.
But of course, he hadn't anticipated a raging veteran with decades of experience.
Park Seong-ho.
The 25-year veteran was pouring his all into the lines.
His bulging eyes and foaming mouth looked like an enraged wild boar. Grinding his teeth like front hooves, glaring at Yi Hwan-jae as if he'd snap his neck if he slipped up.
'What the actual hell...!!'
Yi Hwan-jae wanted to burst into tears right then.
But no one was coming to help.
Not even the seniors, who at 45 were acting their age by rampaging in a script read—no one reined him in.
'That bastard Seong-ho, still wasting his years past forty.'
'Bet he'll hide under cushions in shame after drinks later.'
'Well, that Kang Min kid is impressive...'
Oh Heon-yeong, Yi Hoon, Kim Suk-hee.
The three sighed and shook their heads but matched Park Seong-ho's frenzy. Partly because they too had misjudged junior Kang Min—original sin there.
But above all, that brazen, confident junior who'd provoked them head-on (no denying it) had stirred something in them.
Park Seong-ho's rampage didn't end there.
Yi Hoon, as Chief State Councillor, takes the baton with a sly smile.
In the early part of King and Sovereign, after the king dies in a mysterious accident, Chief State Councillor Jeong Ji-uk moves like he's been waiting, attempting to assassinate the crown prince and install a puppet king.
And he chooses Grand Queen Dowager Choi as his accomplice.
Regency.
It's a dangerous tightrope dispersing power again, but the councillor navigates it with a snake's tongue. Smiling, he recites a line from Sochang Ugi:
Yet they fail to see that flipping norms reveals the petty soul."
The Chief State Councillor laughs. His voice booms yet whispers.
That contradiction is his essence.
Yi Hoon brings out that subtlety so masterfully it's awe-inspiring.
Jeongyun—another term for crown prince, mostly from Goryeo era.
No one catches the implication yet.
Scene change. The councillor gazes at the sky, reciting again:
Yet they fail to see that flipping norms reveals the petty soul."
His robes flutter as he chuckles heartily and exits.
And then,
"Yi Hwan-jae sunbae?"
"...Yes?"
"What are you doing? It's your turn."
"Ah, yes...!"
Stunned by Yi Hoon's powerhouse performance, Yi Hwan-jae fumbled his script.
He stammers through lines, but the reaction is lukewarm. The room, sucked into Yi Hoon's soulful delivery, shifts awkwardly.
'Damn it...!'
He wanted to cry.
'I'm a dancer! How am I supposed to follow that monster acting...!!'
Though lead Yi Hwan-jae suffered worst, the other actors weren't much better off.
Faces pale as ghosts, trembling as they pushed through lines.
Even worse, the seniors threw in notes.
"H-Hold on."
"Y-Yes, Park Seong-ho sunbaenim!"
"Try a snottier tone, like showing off. She's the heroine's friend but kinda annoying, right? Like 'You don't even know this?' vibe..."
"Yeah, like that. Friend but jealous friend, y'know? That feel would work. Not quite landing now."
"Yes, Oh Heon-yeong sunbaenim..."
Not content with overwhelming aura in the cutthroat vibe, the seniors gave pointers left and right.
Tutting or sighing openly at times.
The actors trembled like aspens, swallowing tears.
The little spark Kang Min had ignited had turned the script read into a hellish ordeal unlike any they'd known...
'Please! Someone say something!'
'Y-Yu Ho-hyeon PD!'
'Won't the PD step in?'
Many pinned hopes on Yu Ho-hyeon. The sole hope sat pondering deeply, for a long time.
Then, as if struck by epiphany, he slapped his knee.
"Aha, now I get it! You provoked the unmotivated actors on purpose!"
"Pardon?"
"Director of photography! Get over here. We're scrapping the script read video plan!"
"What are you talking about all of a sudden?!"
"This won't end as some short clip! Milk more footage, snag a slot, make it a special!"
"What?! Squeeze the actors more here?!"
"For the project! They'll understand!"
And so even Yu Ho-hyeon turned into a bad check,
As screams, agony, and madness filled the air, blaming someone,
Kang Min just sighed.
"Terrifying, Writer. I expected a peaceful vibe—what's all this?"
"......Yeah, tell me about it."
What you want doesn't come easily.