Shattering the Illusion
As the monologue scene featuring Yoon Tae-oh, which capped off Episode 10, wrapped up, the chrome ball shoot got underway.
In the meantime, Woojin awakened the dormant Lee Jung-hyuk within him, undergoing transformation after transformation. It hadn't taken long at all for him—who had been Yoon Tae-oh just minutes earlier—to embody Lee Jung-hyuk from head to toe.
Ahn Jong-hoon, now in the guise of Yoon Tae-oh, positioned himself in front of Woojin, who stood in the camera frame as Lee Jung-hyuk.
Clack.
"Camera, on."
"Sound okay."
"Slate, take 11 again—take 1!"
The curtain had already risen on the stage. What more was needed? Straight to the point:
"Ready—and action!"
Woo Seung-hyun PD gave the signal.
At the same time, "Wh-what...?"
Ahn Jong-hoon began delivering his lines, wholeheartedly fulfilling the condition that Kim Soo-rim had laid out in advance: the role of 'assisting Woojin.'
The world of CG was akin to the aesthetics of a single second. Especially in a composite shot like this, splitting the space in half to fit one actor's dual roles into a single frame. For a natural result, there could be no margin for error—not even a split-second—in every action each character performed.
That was why Kim Soo-rim had drilled it into Ahn Jong-hoon: what she called 'assistance' really meant playing a 'proper scene partner.'
Contrary to the worries floating around, Ahn Jong-hoon was showing he intended to carry out her instructions properly.
"Who are you?"
In the scene: Yoon Tae-oh's home. Having thrown himself into investigating the serial murders dubbed Justice, he'd come home late at night—only to be startled the moment he stepped inside. Someone had already broken in.
The hat he wore and the deep shadows cloaking his face made it impossible to discern the intruder's features at a glance.
"Tell me—who the hell are you?!"
"......"
"You... you're connected to Justice, aren't you?"
Yoon Tae-oh voiced the hunch screaming in his gut. At that, the intruder began approaching slowly.
Imagine it: deep into the night, lights still off, realizing someone was waiting for you in your own home. A terrifying scenario for anyone—but Yoon Tae-oh's body moved against his fear.
He, too, stepped forward, closing the distance toward the approaching figure.
Step... step...
The gap between them shrank. Tension built through nothing but breaths and footsteps, no dialogue needed.
"It's definitely way better than Woojin going back and forth by himself."
"I was worried the whole time, but it looks like Ahn Jong-hoon pulled himself together—he's focused."
"Actors are actors, after all."
Behind the monitor, Woo PD, Kim Soo-rim, and Seo Min-kyeong watched the actors intently, murmuring their thoughts.
Swoosh.
As the intruder removed his black hat and lifted his head, the shadows on his face lifted somewhat. Only then did Yoon Tae-oh take in the man's true identity.
"......?!"
His eyes flew wide open.
"Prosecutor Yoon Tae-oh?"
Before the shock could fade, the man's voice struck Yoon Tae-oh's ears. It was Lee Jung-hyuk's voice.
"......"
Yoon Tae-oh was too stunned to even close his gaping mouth. The sudden appearance of a mysterious stranger was startling enough—but for that stranger to look exactly like him? It was like getting clubbed over the head repeatedly; he couldn't gather his wits.
In stark contrast, "I'm Lee Jung-hyuk."
Lee Jung-hyuk introduced himself with surprising calm.
As Yoon Tae-oh remained frozen, unresponsive—
Click.
Lee Jung-hyuk flipped the switch. The home, lit only by the faint shoe closet auto-light, brightened up.
"You must be shocked. Naturally so. I was, too, at first."
Lee Jung-hyuk spoke carefully, his voice steady.
After entering Korea, Lee Jung-hyuk had moved according to Lee Jin-tae's plan.
All those connected to the events of 'that day' in 1983. More precisely, the thirty-one agents who had rushed to their homeland's call without hesitation—only to be gunned down by friendly fire in that horrific incident. Anyone who had even the slightest hand in it.
His mission: monitor their every move without missing a beat and report it all faithfully to Lee Jin-tae.
'...Is this really the right thing to do?'
Throughout the process, Lee Jung-hyuk grappled with endless inner conflict.
Because his father had repeatedly declared his intent for bloody vengeance. The expressions and eyes he'd seen on his father then—what could they be likened to? A starving hunting dog, perhaps.
Anyone not a fool could grasp what that meant: taking the lives of those involved with his own hands.
But, 'It's natural to empathize with victims' pain and support them, while condemning the perpetrators...'
'Is it truly right to take innocent lives illegally just to sate personal revenge?'
Lee Jung-hyuk didn't want blood calling for blood. He believed the chain of vengeance had to break at some point. Otherwise, more people would end up living wretched lives like his own.
Growing up in Thailand, what he'd constantly seen and felt viscerally was 'death.' Had he taken lives? Yes. But only where the premise was, 'If I don't kill them, they'll kill me.'
Yet Korea was different. That was why aiding Lee Jin-tae tormented Lee Jung-hyuk's soul.
Still, one belief kept him enduring: once Lee Jin-tae's goal was achieved, the next would be his own—'to live happily and ordinarily with Father.'
Clinging to that faith, he moved solely for his father.
Until then, he'd rationalized it: 'For the ideal, the suffering of reality is inevitable.'
'So I can endure it!'
But then, "Sob... honey!!"
"Daddy, waaah!"
The gulf between ideal and reality. Confronting it with his own eyes broke Lee Jung-hyuk.
He hadn't known. When killing high-ranking officials deeply tied to 'that incident,' innocents could become collateral too.
"They killed a cop too..."
"For real? What did the police officer even do wrong?! God, so tragic..."
Murmurs spread.
During the first incident carried out by the 'Recall' forces gathered in Korea under Lee Jin-tae's orders: an innocent officer responding to the call had died.
Witnessing the families' wailing from afar, Lee Jung-hyuk finally realized what he'd done.
'Wh-what have I... done...'
First, panic.
'N-no... It's not my fault... I didn't do it!'
Then denial.
'Hah... hah...'
Guilt surged like an undercurrent. The flood of complex emotions threatened to drive him mad.
Soon, realization: 'Th-this... isn't true justice... It's just insane...'
'......!'
A memory flashed through Lee Jung-hyuk's mind.
"I'll make sure no blood stains your hands."
"Huh?"
"The blood will be on my hands, son. You just lend your strength up to that point. Don't worry."
"......?"
After the decisive battle with the 'Thai mafia,' words from his father upon regaining consciousness after hovering near death.
He hadn't understood then. The hidden intent behind those words.
Honestly, he still didn't fully grasp it. But—
'Did the blood you meant to stain only your hands... include the blood of innocent citizens too?!'
If it encompassed sacrifices beyond the targets—guiltless people! And if his father saw it as inconsequential!
Grip.
He resolved to stop it, no matter what.
Having witnessed such heartrending tears, Lee Jung-hyuk turned from Lee Jin-tae that day.
He tried everything to thwart him, but it was futile. Victims unrelated to 1983's events kept piling up; unjust casualties mounted.
"Urgh..."
All he'd wanted was a happy, ordinary life with his father, like everyone else. Nothing more.
Why had things spiraled like this? Why was now more agonizing than his brutal past in Thailand?
He wished it would all stop—but his wish remained just that, a breeze.
Before he knew it, Lee Jung-hyuk stood opposed to Lee Jin-tae and the 'Recall' forces.
Alone, he couldn't halt a massive armed group outright, so he started from scratch: meticulously unraveling 1983's events.
And at the end, "N-no way..."
Lee Jung-hyuk unlocked the door to truth.
Facts Lee Jin-tae had hidden: that he wasn't his biological father.
That Lee Jin-tae was the cause of his wretched life.
And above all, that he had a twin brother.
He learned it all.
"Gasp..."
Truths so suffocating, so painful to accept. His face flushed blood-red, veins bulging; it wouldn't have been odd if he exploded. Eyes bloodshot as if bleeding, tears streaming endlessly.
Lee Jung-hyuk pounded his innocent chest, grinding his teeth.
Ring ring ring.
He dialed on the phone clutched desperately in his hand.
—No calls lately. Long time no talk.
"......"
—Eaten yet?
Toward the unchanged voice, he spat each word like chewing glass.
"No matter what... I'll stop Father's plan."
—...You're really going against me?
"Yes. This is your warning. Not content with stealing me from my mother, you hid my real father and twin brother... paying for those sins..."
—...!
"And for ruining my life... Father—no, you—I'll never forgive."
—...Jung-hyuk.
"Never..."
The first face-to-face between Lee Jung-hyuk and Yoon Tae-oh. Followed by the cue sheet transition to the past insert scene.
Having just finished his debut in human-scale chroma key(?) acting—something he'd never experienced in his career—Ahn Jong-hoon, who had stepped away to the director's station briefly, froze, eyes glued to the monitor.
"......"
It was acting that momentarily erased his personal feelings toward Woojin, which cropped up incessantly.
Not just Ahn Jong-hoon. Woo PD, Kim Soo-rim, and Seo Min-kyeong reacted the same.
"Insane..."
"...Not just insane?"
Emotions swelling from faces puffed as if about to burst. Everyone watched in silence, faces screaming, 'How do you even describe that?!'
This scene was billed as Woojin and Lee Kang-sik's shoot, but it was essentially Woojin's monologue. Lee Kang-sik just needed to react with voice alone.
Perfect from the first take, yet already on the third repeat because Woojin had tilted his head oddly.
A scene taxing emotionally, physically, mentally in every way—yet Woojin pushed Lee Jung-hyuk's emotions to the limit with each take.
"Cut—okay!"
Woo PD yanked off his headset and dashed toward the actor. Kim and Seo followed.
"Woojin, perfect! No need to go further."
"Haha..."
The okay sign dropped, and Woojin slipped out of Lee Jung-hyuk's emotions, smiling. The grueling scene left exhaustion plain on his face now that it was over.
"Let's monitor first, then talk more—let's go!"
Woo PD personally helped him up.
"Sunbae, water!"
A directing staffer rushed over with a bottle.
"Thanks."
Woojin took a sip. The gazes on him brimmed with respect for delivering perfection—not once, but three times.
Ahn Jong-hoon, watching the whole scene with a scowl, had nothing to say.
'...I just wanna go home.'
Hah.
With a small sigh, he slipped away to the back of the set.