The Early Bird Comes to Set
Several more scenes set in America were filmed after that.
A scene flying to San Francisco aboard a steam airship. A scene boarding a steamship and crossing over to Japan. We worked through the scenes that relied entirely on CG at a brisk pace.
The most memorable of the bunch was the airport battle.
Ghosts of the past come swarming in on steam cars, machine guns mounted and all, to ambush Violet — and Violet, whipping out her signature weapon of a pitch-black Gatling gun, turns them all into mincemeat.
The key beat was her merrily smiling as she unleashes the Gatling and reduces the airport to a wasteland — then cheerfully passing the bill for damages along to the Arcane Goldberg Company.
After all, it was the scene that laid bare exactly why Scarlet had it out for Violet.
And this scene produced a moment that was pretty striking in its own right.
The moment Violet flips open the giant case and smoothly draws out her beloved gun, the Black Dragon — that single thunk of a beat was bound to leave a real impression on viewers.
How is anyone supposed to resist a blonde beauty hoisting a colossal Gatling gun?
Thinking it over again, Yang Yuri really did have an uncanny gift for creating characters.
"Make the movements bigger. The weight of the Gatling isn't coming through at all."
"Ah, it's only five kilos, you say? Then why does it feel so heavy... You're stronger than I gave you credit for, Yua-ssi."
"Okay, okay. Yes. Just like that."
Director Bang, who until now had shot everything with level eyes and a calm hand, became remarkably animated once we moved into the action scenes, directing with real fervor.
This one, how should I put it — the type whose excitement intensifies in direct proportion to his tastes? Apparently the man simply doesn't light up unless it's an action scene.
"Ha, what a shame. To think I'm shooting something like *this* with Yua-ssi of all people. If she performs well here, maybe later I could get her into a modern action piece, or a period action drama..."
He kept muttering to himself like that, clearly feeling that steampunk action alone didn't quite scratch the itch.
Well, fair enough — our drama does feature action fairly often, but the mainstay was firearms and firepower exchanges, so for a pure action maniac like Director Bang, it was bound to leave something to be desired.
Cheon Yua is one of the industry's most acclaimed action actresses, after all, and right now she couldn't do exactly what he wanted.
"Thank goodness we have Baek Si-woo-ssi at least. Whew. Tomorrow should be something to look forward to."
The only pure martial-arts action in this production fell to my scenes. Cheon Yua's character crushes her enemies with a giant Gatling, so she rarely fights up close — while Lee Myeong, the sole sword-user in this steampunk world, carves through opponents like something out of a wuxia film.
One look was enough to tell the director's expectations were sky-high, so I'd better prepare for the shoot with equal care.
"How was it?"
"Mm, it was good... but the feel isn't quite landing."
"Right? Scenes like this only come together once editing is done."
"Well, if the director said okay, that means it worked, doesn't it?"
"Yes, it'll turn out well. They're not sparing any expense on CG. And CG, as a rule, only gets better the more money you pour into it."
On the way back after wrapping the shoot.
Cheon Yua asked how today's filming had gone, and the most I could offer was a boilerplate answer.
I thought her acting, along with the other actors', was genuinely top-tier — but without the CG in place, I simply couldn't picture how this batch of footage would ultimately come together.
The action scenes were the same way. When Cheon Yua hauled out the Black Dragon (the black Gatling gun) and opened fire — dadadada — the action extras went flying this way and that, but with nothing around us but white and blue set pieces, the scene never quite came alive.
And that was *with* the crew firing off blank rounds to sell the immersion as much as possible.
Honestly, on this front I have nothing but admiration for Cheon Yua, who never lost her focus from start to finish, and for the stunt performers who gave it their all in those bare conditions.
In productions that lean heavily on CG work, it seems delivering a genuinely good performance is no easy feat in itself.
"I wasn't used to it from the start either, you know? You just keep doing it until it works."
"That's true."
"Anyway — Si-woo-ssi, your shoot is tomorrow, right? The Namyangju set."
"Yes, and thank goodness that one isn't full-CG."
Tomorrow would be my first day of filming.
The location: the late-Joseon-era set in Namyangju.
There'd be some touch-up construction for CG purposes here and there, but it wasn't going to be shot in a barren studio like today's.
A small mercy, as far as I was concerned.
Also filming tomorrow: Luna, Senior Kang, and the little one.
"I'm worried about Mi-joo. I'll be on set too, of course, but I can't devote all my attention just to her."
"You're keeping an eye on so much as the writer, so of course. I'll watch over her too, so don't worry. Besides, the company promised to assign her a dedicated manager, remember?"
Yang Yuri, the little one's guardian, seemed somewhat anxious about her going on set.
Partly because she was still so young, but mostly, it seemed, because it was her first time.
After a few more rounds of this, she wouldn't be fretting like she was now.
The company was sending staff anyway, so nothing serious was likely to happen.
Cheon Yua, however, was worried about the little one in a somewhat different direction.
"Mi-joo is filming on the same day as Moon Soo-yeon. I'm worried. That she might catch something strange from her."
"...I don't know what exactly you're worried about, but she'll probably be fine. I'm sure Senior Luna is actually very fond of childr— ...not fond of them, perhaps?"
"You say that like you know something, then turn around mid-sentence?"
"...When did I ever?"
Ugh, that slipped out.
The Lady of Haomun had always had a peculiar fondness for children.
Both Cheon Yua and Nam Hyunho are, personality-wise, barely changed from their Murim days — so it was quite likely she was the same.
I'd raised the point to reassure Cheon Yua, only to narrowly remember that this world's me had never actually met Luna before.
"Besides, Senior Luna is busy, so her path and the little one's will barely cross. I'll be looking after the little one myself, so rest easy."
"...Something's off about that, but fine, understood. Guard her well so she doesn't pick up any strange habits."
"You can count on Actor Baek!"
I just barely managed to finish the sentence before Cheon Yua's expression could turn strange.
I need to watch my mouth around her.
Worse, for the crime of my slip-up, I'd been saddled with a bonus mission to protect the precocious little one — a loss no small measure.
Not that guarding the little one would be particularly hard, and Luna was very unlikely to show up on set before her own filming slot anyway.
...Or so I thought.
"Senior Luna, aren't you shooting in the afternoon?"
"On set, Moon Soo-yeon is fine. I'm not acting as Luna here."
"...Understood, Senior Moon Soo-yeon."
"I came a little early because there's something I needed to check. Today's the day the young Wol-hee's scenes are filmed, isn't it?"
"...Yes, well. It is."
It was early in the morning, just as filming was about to begin, at the late-Joseon studio in Namyangju.
Luna had appeared on set far earlier than expected.
A complete about-face from the company people who'd thrown a tantrum trying to shave her filming hours down to the bone.
So when I subtly asked why she'd come so early—
"My scene overlaps with the flashback featuring the child actress, right? I need to observe her performance beforehand and match it, or there'll be a dissonance when I act."
...was all she said.
What that meant was: so that viewers wouldn't feel a jarring gap comparing child Wol-hee to adult Wol-hee, she intended to tailor her own performance to the child's.
She would catch the small habits the girl showed while dancing or singing, and reproduce them exactly herself.
You could ask whether anyone really needed to go that far, but true, master-class acting is usually built on precisely this kind of attention to the smallest details.
Just like how Cheon Yua, right before drawing the Black Dragon, consciously lets her right-hand ring finger, middle finger, and index finger tremble ever so slightly.
Detail makes the masterpiece — as adages about acting go, that one holds up remarkably well.
Seen this way, the woman was apparently fairly serious about acting, after all.
"Again. Your fingertips died just now."
"Again! Light as a graceful butterfly. Float."
"Again! When you smile, it has to reach the corners of the mouth — and the lips. All of it."
On set, Hae-hwa (Kang Ji-woo) was filming the scenes where she drills young Wol-hee (Yang Mi-joo).
Moon Soo-yeon was meticulously observing the little one's every movement.
After watching for a long while, Moon Soo-yeon let out a quiet, involuntary sound of admiration.
"That child... was she signed with Flame Entertainment?"
"Yes, that's right."
"She's the real thing. Honestly, becoming a singer would suit her better than acting. Dance lines that alive at her age? My goodness. Maybe she should come to Mun— no, never mind. No point ruining anyone's life. Please just pretend you didn't hear that."
"..."
To me, a dancing little one was nothing but adorable — but in the eyes of an industry professional, apparently there was something far from ordinary in what she saw.
That half-spoken remark — hadn't she been about to ask me to consider Mun Entertainment if the little one ever set her sights on becoming an idol?
Then she'd remembered the state of Mun Entertainment and swallowed the words back down.
Looked at this way, the woman wasn't entirely thoughtless either.
"So, you're Baek Si-woo-ssi, was it?"
"Ah, yes."
"Same company as Cheon Yua-ssi."
"That's right."
"And Flame Entertainment has ties with the investors as well."
"...Yes."
We were watching the set together when she spoke — eyes still fixed on the filming.
Only, her preamble ran on so long I couldn't tell what she actually wanted to say.
What on earth is this about, I wondered — but I listened to her all the way through.
"In that case, could you pass a message along to Cheon Yua-ssi for me?"
"What kind of message?"
"Mun Entertainment may try to pull something. Her throwing that tantrum at the script reading was, when you get down to it, an attempt to cancel my casting."
"...Pull something, you say?"
"From Mun Entertainment's perspective, the best outcome is me not appearing in this drama. As early as possible, ideally. She's dirtier a player than you'd think — she'll absolutely try something."
The words didn't parse easily.
Sabotaging a drama that an artist from her *own* company was appearing in?
"Why on earth would she go that far?"
"Her time is too valuable. I signed the contract on my own terms, so for me to leave the set without penalty, a problem has to occur on set."
"Time, you say?"
"My fee for this drama is less than what two promotional events would net me."
"Even so, your schedule looked quite brutal, Senior."
"Without this drama, they'd just squeeze more out of me, I suppose."
The more I heard, the more horror stories came out. What *is* with that company?
"Why are you telling *me* this, though...?"
"Because you're the only one on this set who seems like he'd actually take me seriously. One look at the atmosphere tells you as much."
Well, true — ever since the script reading incident, actors and crew alike had radiated hostility toward her without exception.
If she could read the room that accurately, this woman's instincts were undeniably sharp.
Which meant... she must be planning to escape 'Mun' herself, no?
"I told you because I hate seeing other actors get hurt. You should prepare on all fronts. Even I can't see that far ahead."
Having said everything she wanted to say, she turned to go — and I asked her one last thing.
"Senior, you're in your seventh year with them too, aren't you? Are you looking into other companies?"
"...That might be a little difficult for me. There are... circumstances. Well then, I'll head back to my waiting room."
"..."
Good grief.
That woman truly lives her life without a single plan, doesn't she?
Something about this felt deeply off. I decided I'd best keep a closer eye on that side of things after all.