The Fencer's Nightmare
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Not just stuntman Kim Ho-jin thought today's shoot was utterly insane.
If anything, the production crew's concerns ran even deeper.
The cinematographer grumbled softly while adjusting the camera.
"Yu PD, you sure about this scene today?"
"Hmm..."
"I know Actor Kang's got some real skill when it comes to physical stuff. But sword fights? That's a whole different beast. Retakes piling up is one thing, but if anyone gets hurt even a little, it's chaos."
"......."
PD Yu Ho-hyeon didn't reply outright, but he felt the same way.
A few days earlier, Kang Min had volunteered to shoot Hui-yul's battle scene from episode 7 himself.
Of course, he'd also requested the best stuntman available.
"This guy's solid."
"...Uh, this Kim Ho-jin? His rep isn't great. He backed out of national team selection under shady circumstances, and there were rumors he nearly ended up behind bars a couple times..."
"No criminal record, though, right?"
"Most cases got settled quietly or his agency pulled strings. He's got the skills, sure—demand proves it—but we could find someone else..."
"Isn't he the best?"
"...Yes."
"Then he's our guy. I've got my own preparations too."
Five days ago, Kang Min had signed a new contract officially bumping up his role's weight.
His(?) iron will was so strong that they compensated by adding bits from mid-tier actors who'd stepped up and miscellaneous scenes—rather than cutting into lead actor Yi Hwan-jae's share. Yi Hwan-jae had shed grateful tears once more.
But apparently, Kang Min's sense of duty(?) wasn't satisfied even with that.
The cinematographer clicked his tongue.
"Feels like he thinks since he got concessions, he owes it to contribute just as much."
"I think so too."
"Kid's got style, I'll give him that. But anyone can see this is a bad move."
Experienced terrestrial TV cinematographers usually knew all the top stuntmen in Korea inside out. And they knew Kim Ho-jin was on another level entirely.
Put bluntly, worlds apart.
"That Kim Ho-jin guy's the real deal. Started with kendo as a kid, switched to fencing out of nowhere later—and made it to national team trials. If not for his shitty personality, he'd be a star."
"I've heard the rumors. We'll do a few retakes; if it doesn't work, I'll talk Actor Kang down."
"Yeah, good call... He says he's prepared something? As if that'll make a difference."
No matter how decent Kang Min's movements were, no way could he match a genuine swordsman in a real scene.
The PD, cinematographer—every staffer thought the same.
"His sense of responsibility is impressive, but... does he really need to go this far?"
"Right?"
"Writer Baek looks way too pale."
His spirit was admirable, but most hoped he'd give it a half-hearted try and quit quick.
Naturally, the pinnacle of that hope was stuntman Kim Ho-jin himself.
Truth be told, he wasn't hiding his blatant displeasure.
'Cocky little shit...'
Kim Ho-jin ground his teeth softly.
In his mind, Kang Min was a freeloading pretty boy—strutting around pretending with that delicate face, too clueless to know his place, trying to hang with the real pros. Pathetic.
But,
When they exchanged greetings on set, he was instantly overwhelmed.
"By the way, left-handed, huh? I can tell from how developed your left sword muscles are."
"......?"
"Wait, actually—looks like you trained it later in life. The smaller the sword, the better left-right shakes work. It'll pay off big."
Exhausted eyes, low voice laced with gloom.
But those eyes rang alarm bells—full of something piercing.
His body tensed instinctively, pre-rational instincts from martial arts training screaming warning.
The guy in front of him wasn't some amateur—
'Bullshit.'
Too much booze last night? Kim Ho-jin chuckled dryly and shook his head.
Just some actor. Probably never held a real sword.
A quick muscle scan screamed "casual gym bro" at best.
And this guy thinks what?
'Typical actor bullshit—hamming up the atmosphere.'
He'd deliberately trained left-handed swordplay, yeah. Righties outnumber lefties 9:1 generally, but in fencing it felt like 20:1. Tough for opponents to adjust.
Same-side righties rely on left-right shakes and central strikes, but flipping the arm direction seals that. Especially center targets—angles favor you massively for parry and thrust.
Spotted that in one glance?
'Ridiculous. Probably Googled me and is faking knowledge.'
Infuriating.
His antics pissed him off, but this nobody acting like an expert? Worse.
'Was gonna go easy if he played nice...'
Guys like this needed a lesson.
Kim Ho-jin steeled himself to leave a solid bruise somewhere.
Luckily, the prop sword fit perfectly.
"Uh, just so you know—aluminum-duralumin fake swords are too light, no real feel. So we prepped weighted ones. Which means injury risk."
"Got it."
"Material's springy, so major danger's low, but still—be careful. You really sure?"
"Yes."
"...Understood."
The staffer sighed softly and backed off.
Then the PD launched into emotional beats, expression weight, movement lines—but Kim Ho-jin tuned it out. Actor's job.
Masked stuntmen just needed flashy sword swings.
Plus, this could whip like a fencing saber.
Mask on, Kim Ho-jin smirked at calm-faced Kang Min.
By end of day, no room for that bravado—
"Boom mic out first. Sound gets dubbed anyway—ignore headroom. No diffusers needed; bounce reflectors as we go, backlight for now. Not one-take, so stitch good shots later. Stay sharp every retake. Okay?"
"Yes!"
"Good—action!"
PD's longer-than-usual briefing ended. Kang Min and Kim Ho-jin stood side by side.
Dawn at Yongin Historical Drama Park's marketplace: faint sunlight and lights piercing the gloom.
Nearby, Park Yeon-ju—in the scene—watched Kang Min worriedly.
'Start with a big 'mistake' feint, maybe.'
Kim Ho-jin grinned slyly, raising his prop sword.
Cue dropped soon after.
And as planned, one man flew skyward.
"Gahk...!"
It was Kim Ho-jin.
"?"
"?"
"......???"
"Sorry. Got too tense—overpowered it."
Damn silence blanketed the set as Kang Min apologized immediately.
Staff stared blankly, dumbfounded.
"You okay?" The stuntman helping him up looked dazed too. Mask hid it, but obvious.
Kang Min inwardly winced, squeezing his eyes shut.
'Shit, can't control this...!'
His hunch was right. He'd pulled out the ability of his last nightmare's protagonist.
But two huge problems.
First: most nightmare protags were Kang Min himself or average civilians. He died a hundred times overnight before William White—the sword guy—showed up.
Second...
'No control...!'
Like deep immersion sometimes. Could summon via acting, but no fine-tuning.
William White sensed killing intent and gut-slashed first.
Who the hell brings murder vibe to actor-stuntman spar?
'Ugh, what now...'
Kang Min swallowed a groan—thankfully, the stuntman stood soon after.
Mask hid his face, but a friendly laugh leaked through.
"My bad. Got careless. Booze from last night."
"Feeling off?"
"You kidding? National team material here—ain't falling to some light tap. Just rolled with it via breakfall."
"Impressive...!"
Kang Min sighed in relief.
Indeed, Korea's top stuntman outclassed lunatic knights like William White—modern martial arts refined to perfection.
Murmuring staff wrote it off as a hiccup, tension easing.
But inside Kim Ho-jin's mask, his face burned red.
'That fucking bastard...!'
Already eaten one hit. Subtle pranks? Out the window.
Grinding teeth, he shifted stance. Guy had chops—time to beat him senseless.
'I'll show you real pain...!'
Unfortunately, Kang Min took the stuntman's "no big deal" dead seriously.
Cue dropped again. Kang Min's eyes sharpened.
Before Kim Ho-jin registered, sword flashed from upper left.
'What?!'
He barely parried. No breather.
Next assault: gale-force.
Right.
Center.
Diagonal up.
Lower left—
Lightning combo even prime days never saw.
Staff—stunned from first clash—gaped slack-jawed.
'This psycho...!'
But Kim Ho-jin wasn't all personality; skills held. Dodged with deplacement, chained to degagement.
Attack blocked.
As expected.
'Can't dodge this!'
Blade-locked in liement, low ligne, thrust in.
Pro-level fluid-sharp combo few pros blocked. Close-quarters combat rapproche—blind angle, no escape.
Dodged.
Kim Ho-jin freaked.
'Twisting waist at that angle?!'
What the fuck?!
No time to panic. Kang Min's cold eyes locked empty lower body.
Hand moved late.
Half-thigh slash grates—blocked amid pain.
Kim Ho-jin bit back agony; opponent ignored blocked strike. Restricted movement? Skipped blade tease—scraped up to upper body.
'This fucker's trying pros in prise de fer?!'
Baring teeth, Kim targeted lower croise.
Power struggle. Kang Min yields.
Kim lunges thinking win—kicked flat.
"Kuh!" Pushed back, glaring. Kang Min stared blankly.
Spectators watched agape.
Just 20 seconds.
But breathless exchange left all speechless.
'What the hell.'
Olympic match on drama set? Why?
Stunned atmosphere—PD Yu Ho-hyeon snapped first.
"Pan and follow!"
Eyes bloodshot at once-in-lifetime chance.
"Keep first emotional line raw! Dolly cams—all in! Innovation rolling continuous! Steadicam here! Sound—mic that! Dub later anyway!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Miss nothing! Salvage every bit!"
"What the hell is Actor Kang? That's his 'prep' level?!"
Cinematographer shook head in disbelief.
But he knew best how absurd. Complaints aside, he dashed around directing staff.
All watched in shock. None more than Kim Ho-jin.
'What the fuck...!'
Kang Min didn't look human.
Strikes relentless.
Lower right? Upper right. Center? Below. Dropping? Ambush.
Disengage finesse blade-to-blade, repositioning from blind spots—nothing easy.
Top-tier, no question.
Expression ice-cold, unflinching.
'No actor's this good...!'
Finally, Kim Ho-jin screamed.
"What the fuck are you?!"
Answer came.
"William White."
"What?!"
No more words—sword flew. Kim barely blocked.
Fight dragged. Nearing three minutes.
Victory tilting clear.
Desperation grew, movements bigger—Kang Min's cold eyes absorbed all.
Kim Ho-jin more frantic.
"What the hell are you?! Kendo? Yakuza?!"
"I am William White."
"What bullshit—gahk...!"
No one heard their mad exchange.
Kim ate hits nonstop; staff too awed.
No edits, no effects—pure power like this?
Veterans silenced deepest.
"God... long take gold..."
"Actor Kang knew he could pull this!"
"Man, wonder how much practice."
"Stunt guy's amazing too."
"Yeah—taking every hit...!"
Taking? Getting thrashed. Looked similar.
Kim Ho-jin screamed.
"Fuck, you're William! Got it—stop, fuck!"
"William White forgives no evil."
"You psycho...!!"
No mercy from William White, curses or not.
Time passed. End came.
"Fuck... insane... shit......"
Kim Ho-jin writhed on ground.
Full-body ache city—but no worries voiced.
Kang Min dropped sword—Hollywood-level cheers and applause erupted.
Park Yeon-ju first, ignoring manager's "watch language":
"Oppa! Fucking awesome! Insane! What was that?!"
"How?!"
"Min-ssi learned kendo?!"
"Body okay?!"
Amid cheers, weary Kang Min blinked. Reason returned as William White faded.
First move: extend hand to Kim Ho-jin.
"You okay?"
"......."
"Thanks for matching me. Fall looked too real—scared me, haha. Hope we work together again."
Around him melted at the 'sweetness.' Kim Ho-jin? Silent.
Perplexed Kang Min recalled Hong Ji-ho's advice from days ago.
In short: flashed a grin.
"Serious face, wild moves? Drains you, sweats buckets. Flash a tired smile—boom, sweet as hell."
And,
Seeing Kang Min—who'd just claimed William White while pummeling him—now beaming?
Kim Ho-jin shuddered in terror.
'I poked the wrong madman...!'
Three days later,
Asking if Kim Ho-jin was available again, Kang Min learned he'd retired due to chronic panic disorder. Gutted.
'Great guy... lost a gem.'
Kang Min—thinking he'd found the perfect Unbelievable partner—stuck in shock and soreness awhile.
One week later,
KBC Heuksurim production meeting.
CP Han Ye-seul heard rare good news.
"So, King and Sovereign next week—battle scene alone clocks 10 minutes? For real?"
"Confirmed. No clue what MBS is thinking..."
"My god!"
Han Ye-seul barely stifled a joyful squeal.
Timing was perfect.
'Battle scene now? Worst possible blunder...!'
Battle quality hinged on budget. Decent? Hefty spend. Great? Astronomical.
Especially battles—nail it or break even at best.
King and Sovereign's budget? No way for solid scenes...!
'Boosted Hui-yul, rushed to show something? Impatient!'
Conversely, Heuksurim episode 7? Masterpiece tier.
Outcome? Obvious.
Han Ye-seul grinned, fist clenched.
'Done! Ratings crushed this week...!'
(Even Falling Backwards Breaks Your Nose (5))
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