When Whales Fight, the Shrimps' Backs Shatter (6)
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“Giganotosaurus was once a massive carnivorous dinosaur that could even rival the T. rex.”
Kim Ho-jin had been listening to a historical drama actor earnestly discussing dinosaurs throughout the entire shoot.
It was truly a postmodern spectacle.
“Back in '01, it was estimated at 12.5 meters and 6.5 tons, but in '07, there was this radical claim of 13 meters and a whopping 13.8 tons. Then in '23, it settled down to around 13 meters and 7.5 tons—but it's still enormous.”
“...Yeah.”
“But no human facing a dinosaur like that would have the luxury of such thoughts.”
Overwhelming presence.
A sinister growl.
The primal instinct screaming to run, clashing against frozen ankles locked in place—
“Standing up to that can't come from courage or bravado. It's more like thrashing against an inescapable fate or the crashing waves.”
“.......”
“If we can recreate that desperation, we'll finally nail Black Forest this time.”
Kang Min's expression was deadly serious.
Seriously enough that, if this were on screen, you'd expect Darth Vader's theme to kick in.
Even though he was talking about dinosaurs.
Kim Ho-jin squeezed his eyes shut.
Damn it, how long do I have to put up with this bullshit...!
He could understand tigers or lions, sure. But dinosaurs? And pulling emotions out of fighting one? What the hell?
Every time Kang Min spouted this madness, Kim Ho-jin felt like clumps of his hair were falling out.
...No, wait. Actually, thinking about it, this isn't so bad, right?
Come to think of it, this shoot was bound to succeed anyway.
Kim Ho-jin was a veteran stunt actor. He'd seen plenty of talented actors fail spectacularly by chasing pie-in-the-sky nonsense without bridging the gap between ideals and reality.
Sure, Kang Min was skilled, but dinosaur talk? No way that works.
Just play along with whatever-saurus crap and wrap this up.
With that in mind, Kim Ho-jin plastered on a sycophantic smile.
That is,
until actual filming began.
“Uh, Actor Kang?”
“Yes, PD?”
“Your idea about having the disciples of that dead warrior from the last scene show up here—it's not bad, but... does it really add anything?”
Yu Ho-hyeon tilted his head.
“This is a big stunt scene with a ton of extras. We can't hand swords to all of them, and even if we did, it'd look awkward as hell. No time to rehearse, either.”
“I agree.”
“Hmm...”
“But don't we have none other than Actor Kim Ho-jin on our side?”
“?”
Suddenly,
Kim Ho-jin felt a chill of foreboding.
Kang Min smiled warmly at the puzzled PD.
“Actor Kim Ho-jin's skills are at least ten levels above mine. He can absolutely pull off charging in repeatedly while pretending to be different people.”
“Brilliant...!”
“???”
While the PD clapped in admiration, Kim Ho-jin just stared blankly.
What the hell is he saying?
What is this lunatic asking me to do—
“Uh...”
Kim Ho-jin forced open his trembling mouth.
“So, you're saying I'd have to keep rushing in over and over for the whole follow-up scene...?”
“You get it exactly!”
“.......”
“Don't worry about me. Big scenes come with big risks, right? No need to hold back!”
“..........”
I'm not the one who needs to hold back—you are!
Unfortunately, one look at those gleaming William White eyes sapped Kim Ho-jin's courage.
He just squeezed his eyes shut, regretting ever crossing paths with this guy.
And the result?
Predictable.
#
“Ugh, damn it...!!”
Two days after Episode 8 aired,
Kim Ho-jin lay sprawled at home, groaning in pain.
His battered body hurt worse than before—enough to worry about permanent damage.
But the real trauma was Kang Min's gaze as he stared him down.
The surrounding actors and staff had marveled at the mad intensity of that performance.
They even stuck out their tongues in awe, wondering how he nailed that emotional arc.
But not Kim Ho-jin.
He knew the backstory behind it.
This lunatic really thinks he's fighting a dinosaur...!
Kim Ho-jin shuddered.
Powerlessness taking root,
endless futility,
and a transcendent madness eclipsing it all—
Surprisingly, there was no secret technique.
It all stemmed from genuinely believing he was facing a Giganotosaurus...!
He's out of his mind...!
To sum up: Kang Min was Olympic-level with a sword, called himself William White, and when he imagined battling a dinosaur, he unleashed the raw savagery of actually doing so. And somehow, he was an actor.
Even the jaded Kim Ho-jin had never seen or heard of anyone this insane.
And the madness didn't stop after they nailed the shot.
“Ugh...! Those Black Forest bastards...!”
A rare drinking session.
As staff and actors reveled in tipsy joy, Kang Min pounded the ground.
His face twisted in utter indignation.
Kim Ho-jin cautiously spoke up.
“...Isn't it just a 0.3% difference? We surged 7% against expectations, and factoring in the gap with Black Forest, we basically won—”
“'Basically' means nothing, Actor Kim. What matters is we lost...!”
“.......”
“Ugh...! What do we have to do...!!”
Avoiding Kang Min's eyes, Kim Ho-jin scanned for backup.
Conveniently, Baek Chae-i—the writer who always seemed to appear wherever Kang Min was—was right there.
Her sharp, intellectual vibe might defuse this; he quickly called out.
“Uh, Writer? Actor Kang seems a bit drunk...”
“Ehehe, hehe...”
“?”
“To think he'd lament my fate this much... euhehe...”
“.......”
The writer was even crazier.
Kim Ho-jin felt like he was losing his mind.
Even Yu Ho-hyeon PD with his constant “uhahaha” laughs— this set was devoid of sanity except for him.
Exhausted beyond endurance, he dragged himself home, burrowed under the covers, and spent the day there.
Firing back curses at incoming texts, Kim Ho-jin finally sighed in relief.
Yeah, whatever—it's over. Done and dusted.
Wasn't it just a one-time deal? No matter how terrifying the lunatic, as long as he wasn't doing stunts, no more entanglements.
Kim Ho-jin savored his returned normalcy, patting his chest repeatedly.
Screw booze and gambling. Earn less, live easy.
Fencing lessons paid enough, even if not stunt-level. Humans just need a dull, uneventful routine to thrive.
With that epiphany, Kim Ho-jin seemed reborn.
But the world doesn't always oblige.
The soul-crushing event hit the very next day.
[What? Even after that long-take scene?]
[Oh, that was impressive, sure. But it felt more like a stunt than real acting, you know?]
It started with this broadcast.
A show that trashed every drama on earth was too busy praising King and Sovereign Episode 8.
Up to here, no real issue.
Kim Ho-jin had gripes, but he couldn't deny it was a stellar scene.
Even if it was dinosaur talk.
But,
just as Kim Ho-jin grumbled that, the mood shifted.
The host brought up a new topic.
And then,
Kang Min's voice played.
Kim Ho-jin's jaw dropped.
As he gaped at the screen, the reporter sounded puzzled.
Kang Min continued solemnly toward the impressed reporter.
His jaw stayed slack.
You made me do it!
His jaw wouldn't close to say it.
Kim Ho-jin just sat there dumbfounded as his face appeared on the massive screen of Serial Drama Roasting Dolls.
The panelists gasped, hyping the mood.
As the praise shifted back to Kang Min, Kim Ho-jin stared blankly at his phone.
Calls flooded in.
Messages piled up endlessly.
He'd never gotten this much attention during his fencing days or stunt peak—and it brought zero joy.
Top of the list: his agency's message.
This psycho...!
Kim Ho-jin's hands shook.
His mind blanked. That lunatic wouldn't let him go, no matter what.
Panic disorder excuse? Useless now. Might not even get a diagnosis.
This way, he'd be stuck with the madman forever...!
Ugh...!
Kim Ho-jin squeezed his eyes shut.
No way.
Screw the eye-watering money. Better retire and never look back.
But every path was blocked.
His eyes clenched tighter.
Then...
Only one option left—
#
The next day,
Kang Min, inwardly pleased that 'this should motivate Actor Kim Ho-jin,' stared blankly at the news.
It was,
more than a little off.
“?”
Shrimp Backs Galore in Whale Fights (6)
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