It Ain’t Over Till It’s Over
Simultaneous text message notifications rang out from two phones, causing Lee Jung-hyuk and Yoon Tae-o to freeze in place. Their eyes naturally met before dropping to their screens. Without a word to each other, the moment they checked the messages, their pupils began to tremble wildly.
Like perfect mirror images of brothers, their reactions were so amusing that Han Min-jae couldn't hold back his laughter. With an irrepressible grin, he raised his voice. “It ain’t over till it’s over!”
“These crazy bastards…” Even Yoon Tae-o, who had been maintaining his prosecutor's composure with polite speech despite the blatant provocation, let a rough curse slip from his lips.
Was it the shock? Lee Jung-hyuk stood rigid, frozen. What on earth could the message say…?
“……”
Silence fell. The camera zoomed in close, capturing the stark contrast in their expressions vividly.
A moment later, “Cut!” Woo Seung-hyun PD called out.
The set, immersed in the world of Justice, snapped back to reality.
With a satisfied tone, he announced, “That’s a wrap for today, everyone. Great work!”
“You too!”
The tense standoff scene—'the unstoppable force versus those trying to halt it'—that opened the first ten minutes of the finale was complete.
Now, filming was done up to the early part of episode 20, the full script portion released to the cast.
Kim Soolim, who had watched every moment of today's shoot from the sidelines, stepped forward with an important announcement.
“Great work, actors and staff! As mentioned before, we haven't distributed the rest of the finale script yet.”
She continued, “It's to prevent leaks, but honestly, we're still debating between two endings. Don't worry—they're both finished!”
“Got it~!”
“I'll send it to all actors and staff by tomorrow morning so preparations stay on track.”
“Understood!”
“See you all in three days, then!”
With the script notice done, Kim Soolim immediately huddled with Woo PD and Seo Min-kyeong to discuss. Even with two endings ready, she was agonizing right up to the wire—a testament to how much her lifeblood was poured into this drama.
Choosing between two…
Woojin mulled over her words, lost in thought for a moment. Two endings obviously meant debating happy or sad.
But he wasn't curious about the ending itself. It was the bridge scenes—the path leading there, connecting today's footage to the finale—that had him on pins and needles.
No matter how much he asked, Kim and Seo just smiled and said, “Secret! Check the script!” They wouldn't spill, not even to Lee Kang-sik.
Just how far did Lee Jin-tae's vengeful spear reach that they'd hide it even from the actor playing him?
Suppressing his explosive curiosity was tough, but on the flip side, he was savoring the fun of speculation: I wonder if it'll go like this?
“Dad, great work.”
“Yeah, son!”
After changing out of costume, Woojin was leisurely removing his makeup in the vanity bus when he spotted Lee Kang-sik boarding late. He greeted him warmly.
Lee Kang-sik sat beside him and murmured quietly, “How do you think it'll end, son?”
“The finale?”
“Yeah, I can't stand the suspense. I just begged Kim for spoilers.”
“Did you find out?!”
“Nah, she said tomorrow. Won't tell till the end. With my impatience, I might not sleep tonight.”
Lee Kang-sik pouted. Woojin couldn't pinpoint when it started, but lately the senior showed these cute sides more often. Their first meeting, he was like a mountain tiger—fierce and imposing—but closeness revealed a warm, unpretentious man.
“Kim's got some serious discipline. Confirmed it again today.”
“Why?”
“The cut-off point? Pure art. How does she always nail it right there? Haha!”
Woojin figured not just them, but the whole staff felt the same. Even recapping the story flow:
1. Han Min-jae, the perpetrator who surrendered right after an unprecedented terrorist attack on the National Assembly.
2. His backstory revealed naturally through the protagonist—eerily mirroring Lee Jin-tae's own hardships.
3. This justifies how Han Min-jae, unknown to Lee Jung-hyuk, became part of the shadowy 'reclum' organization.
4. It also resolves doubts like, 'Even with Lee Jin-tae's massive power, does terrorism against a nation make sense?' Better two heads than one, as the proverb goes—and with dual revenge against the state.
5. Then, he surrenders but exudes ominous vibes, dropping that loaded line: 'It ain’t over till it’s over.'
6. Precisely then, both protagonists' phones ring. Their shocked faces hint at unprecedented revelation.
Whoa, episodes 19 late and 20 early—barely 10-15 minutes combined—and it reels in every dangling thread in one shot…
They went this far, why stop short of the climax peak? No 'lucky seven' explosion, just a cut here!
Lee Kang-sik was right. Before editing, the script is first read by the production team (sans creator). In a way, they're viewers too.
The 'Kim & Seo(?)' duo's pen game? Masters at skyrocketing viewer curiosity to ascension levels.
Woojin nodded quietly.
Lee Kang-sik continued, “Before tomorrow morning, I'll take a guess.”
“Huh? You mean…”
“…Call?”
“Of course. Double or nothing!”
Air production pastime for just Woojin and Lee Kang-sik: little bets.
“My take on the ending is…”
“…Nah~. I think…”
Started as a bet, but it always circled back to the work and acting. Soon in serious mode, the two actors whispered their visions of episode 20's rise-fall-turn-conclusion.
“Oho~”
“Epic! Seniors, you could be writers.”
Their unavoidable chatter drew the makeup team's attention. Such a tantalizing topic. Another marathon gossip session loomed.
Chaotic laughter filled the vanity bus with cheer. Next door's costume team overheard and joined in.
Oh Seong-cheol had said it once: Actors become 'chatty' on set. Drama or film, no matter—teamwork means crowded spaces ripe for endless talk.
“Speaking of, Ahn Jong-hoon was better than expected. Solid acting.”
Lee Kang-sik remarked, surprised.
“Right? During Spielberg, staff gossiped he was all smoke and mirrors. What's up with him?”
The makeup lead chimed in.
“I agree. He was good.”
Woojin nodded. Credit where due—Ahn Jong-hoon's performance exceeded expectations. As his scene partner, no awkwardness or disconnect; that sneer meshed perfectly with the character, memorable even.
Still, “His lines are minimal, so hard to tell. Skill or just the setup forcing it?”
Lee Kang-sik pierced the core.
Sometimes it happens: No deep prep, yet it lands as 'great acting.' When the actor's real personality, emotions, or experiences perfectly match the role.
Examples abound: Insurance salesman playing one? Fresh breakup actor doing heartbreak?
Conditions primed for success. That authenticity boosts performance immensely—it's real.
Likewise: Ahn Jong-hoon, who boils at Baek Woojin's name, cast opposite Woojin's character, building rivalry—with sneers laced in mockery?
No chance to strike back at Woojin, so he'd stewed alone. His own fault, his pent-up grudge.
Anyway, acting gave him an outlet for those feelings…
Woojin and Lee Kang-sik, fully aware of their history, sensed it: Ahn's Han Min-jae was real.
“I'd like to test him properly sometime.”
“Ahn Jong-hoon?”
“Yeah, see his limits.”
Good point. Ahn's sneer was real, so Woojin's reaction was too. Soon, a true 'real vs. real' clash.
It ain’t over till it’s over.
Woojin smiled faintly.
The next morning, an email arrived from Kim Soolim.
“Whew~”
Woojin hummed as he opened the file, scrolling slowly. His eyes sparkled with anticipation.
And soon…
“Whoa…”
Woojin's jaw dropped. Every prediction from yesterday's dozen-plus in the bus? Dead wrong.
This is a writer's imagination? A whole new realm beyond actors'.
- Scroll.
He pored over every word, cursor racing down.
Until it hit the end.
Then—
- Vrrr.
A red glow enveloped the leather-bound 'it,' reacting.