Shattered Sword, Shattered Records
"Not bad at all..."
"...Isn't that thing supposed to break?"
The props team gaped the moment they saw the wooden sword snap. They'd deliberately prepared worn-out wooden swords for that historical drama vibe, complete with scratches and nicks. They'd run durability tests over and over, worried it might splinter mid-scene and injure someone, but it had always held up fine.
"Maybe if you hit the weakest spot just right... like aiming for that gap...?"
"Dude, what is this, a wuxia flick? You think that's even possible? Even if we stretch it a hundred times and say it could happen, how the hell do you actually do it?"
But Donghu did it.
The props team wanted to argue back against their team leader's rant but shut up. What was happening right in front of them was so absurdly unrealistic that they totally got why he wanted to deny reality.
And it wasn't just the props team feeling that way. Everyone on set stared at Kim Donghu with the same stunned expression. Director Oh Jaedeok was even trembling.
"A-are you okay?! No one got hurt, right?!"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"Actor Kim Donghu too?!"
"Yep, I'm good, Director."
Snapping out of it late, Director Oh Jaedeok rushed over to actor Park Jinhyeok. Splinters from the breaking sword could have been disastrous. But somehow—intentionally or not—Park Jinhyeok had let go at just the right moment before it snapped, avoiding any injury. It was such perfect choreography, you could've sworn they'd rehearsed it meticulously beforehand.
"No way... did you deliberately break the wooden sword...?"
Director Oh Jaedeok trailed off as he looked at Kim Donghu. No matter how he thought about it, that was impossible. Deliberately snapping a wooden sword? This wasn't some martial arts novel—how could anyone pull that off?
Anyway.
"I'm just glad neither of you got hurt. You must both be shaken up, so let's take a break, swap out the sword, and reshoot the duel scene."
"Sure."
Actor Park Jinhyeok glanced at Kim Donghu, who answered at the exact same timing.
Was that really just a freak accident?
Kim Donghu's earlier words—let go if it feels dangerous—suddenly felt like he'd foreseen this exact moment.
"...But seriously, how'd you do that with a wooden sword...?"
"Just luck. How could anyone break a wooden sword on purpose?"
"For 'just luck,' your face doesn't look shocked at all."
"Uh... guess I just have strong nerves."
Watching the two from afar, Ha Seunghun—who played the adult Jaun—nodded slowly.
"...That's why everyone's talking about Kim Donghu."
No wonder he made it big.
'He's lost a ton of his swordsmanship skill.'
Around the time he was convinced it had to be some dark evolution power.
"Seriously insane. That was brutal."
Don't we have to step up like that too?
A soft smile approached Ha Seunghun as someone spoke up.
"Hyung, we might have to. Otherwise, we won't wrap this in a day."
"Nah, but watching that kid go so hard is kinda motivating in a weird way."
Ha Seunghun nodded at Seo Jinu's words—the actor playing adult Baek Dongsu.
"Rookie of the Year is his for sure, right?"
"Rookie award? He debuted in a ten-million-viewer movie. End-of-year awards are gonna be chaos."
The conversation naturally shifted to the upcoming year-end ceremonies. In both dramas and films, Kim Donghu's achievements were undeniable. And Geomgeom Baek Dongsu, which they were filming now, would wrap before the awards no matter what—plenty of reason for him to hit the stage.
"Chaos, huh..."
"What?"
"Doesn't it feel weird just sitting back and watching a talent like that?"
Seo Jinu chuckled at that, like it made perfect sense.
"Yeah, true. Wanna grab his number?"
"P-pardon?"
"Why act all stiff between actors? Let's just go ask straight-up."
"What, like we're hitting on kids?"
"Exactly—hunting season?"
"Huh?"
At Ha Seunghun's demanding look, Seo Jinu laughed again.
"Talented actors always blow up. No downside to getting friendly early."
"What're you..."
"I've never formally studied acting."
Ha Seunghun nodded knowingly at Seo Jinu's out-of-left-field comment. It was famous lore: Seo Jinu, who climbed to the top through self-taught acting and won Best Actor with his unique philosophy.
"So if I ever studied, I'd want to learn from someone way better than me—someone unreal."
"W-wait, what? Am I hearing this right?"
"Yep. And you're hearing me crystal clear."
Can't be a dumb disciple who misses out on a great master just for one number.
With that, Seo Jinu sauntered off lightly. Ha Seunghun, eager for the exchange himself, followed.
+++++
"?"
When I came to, my phone had two new contacts: top heartthrob actors.
"Whoa... Seo Jinu sunbaenim and Ha Seunghun sunbaenim don't usually swap numbers..."
Next to me, Jinhyeok hyung—who'd exchanged numbers too—kept muttering in disbelief.
The reason I stayed calm amid all that? One thing.
This feels way too unreal.
It was so far from everyday life. Numbers from actors I'd only seen on TV, saved in my phone. Totally different from KakaoTalk with Sujin or Jaerin.
"Donghu, so how do you act?"
Lost in that surreal haze, Seo Jinu's sudden question made me turn.
"Child actors are done, our turn now. Just wanna know your approach before we start."
Sudden much?
Suddenly, I felt every eye snap to us. The whole set froze, hanging on this convo. Even muttering Jinhyeok hyung waited for my answer.
But Seo Jinu's question hit an awkward spot. Or rather, I couldn't exactly answer honestly.
How? I just immerse myself.
Of course, no way I'd say that straight.
"I... imagine I'm really that character. Like full immersion..."
"Immersion, huh."
I gave the most roundabout answer possible. No clue how he took it, but...
"So you're saying match your daily life to the role once?"
"Pardon?"
"Blend it into real life too? Impressive for your age. Self-taught, right?"
"Y-yeah, acting's all self-study for me."
"Knew it."
Some weird misunderstanding was blooming, but I let it slide. Filming went smoothly amid the unresolved mix-up.
When it all wrapped, Director Oh Jaedeok huffed like an angry bull, dying to dive into editing.
"Seriously... I'll edit this into a masterpiece. Geomgeom Baek Dongsu—we're hitting 30% ratings!"
"Woooaaah!"
Time flew amid that fierce vow.
And finally.
"Dad, watch Geomgeom Baek Dongsu?"
"It's got my kid in it—of course."
"..."
The final air date for Geomgeom Baek Dongsu approached.
+++++
"Why am I so nervous over this?"
SKS Drama Department Head Jeong Do-seon fidgeted watching the airing Geomgeom Baek Dongsu. Sweat beaded on his otherwise stoic face. In the tense conference room, only Director Oh Jaedeok looked chill.
"It'll do great."
"Yeah, it better. Then we get year-end bonuses, overseas trips, all that."
The random incentive talk straightened every spine. Perks for over 30%? Possible.
SKS already tasted success with Secret Garden. Back-to-back Mon-Tue hits? Ad rates would skyrocket.
"Viewers will love it, right?"
"Viewers don't obsess over ratings like we do—that's insider stuff."
"I poured my soul into editing. Slept two hours a day for a week."
Under Director Oh Jaedeok's cocky guarantee, the Geomgeom Baek Dongsu highlight reel kicked off.
"Can't we just start over?"
"Foolish talk. That's why you could only watch your loved ones die."
Childhood sparring flashbacks intercut: light wooden swords clashing playfully before.
Now, real blades swing to kill.
Kagagagak! Sparks fly, screen shifts to the past.
"Hiaaaap!"
Innocent young Baek Dongsu swings upward blindly with his wooden sword.
Young Jaun parries calmly.
Slice!
Jaun's blade severs memories, carving deep into Baek Dongsu's flesh. A born killer, heaven's cursed star—his innate talent unleashed.
Baek Dongsu doesn't hold back anymore.
"...Hup!"
Short breath, sword surges from below.
In the past, young Jaun shattered that wooden upswing perfectly, seizing victory. Spars ended win or lose—no deaths, just laughs and meals after.
But no more.
Shwick!
Baek Dongsu's blade gashes Jaun deep. Dark wound gapes, entrails threatening to spill. Baek Dongsu grabs him desperately.
"Why! Why didn't you block?! You could have!"
Jaun winces, ears ringing.
"...Thanks."
Whispered farewell, gone.
Baek Dongsu's tale continues briefly after slaying his friend by his own hand.
The production crew in the room let out stunned sighs.
"Director... this is insane! Huge hit!"
"Th-this is gonna explode, right?!"
As everyone freaked out...
"Quiet. No shouting."
Department Head Jeong Do-seon demanded calm, glaring at his phone fiercely. He didn't care about cheers—he wanted ratings.
Ding!
The sudden KakaoTalk in the now-silent room. Jeong Do-seon checked, grinned wide, removed his glasses, and slicked back his hair. Visibly relieved.
Director Oh Jaedeok peeked desperately.
"...Peak 35%?! Final tally... 32%...!!!"
He bear-hugged Jeong Do-seon announcing the score.
"W-we did it?!"
"Yeah. We rule Mon-Tue dramas."
The brutal 2011 drama wars were over. SKS reigned supreme.
"Not bad at all."
And with ratings like that, naturally...
The communities erupted once more.