Chapter 130
Translator: uly
Chapter: 130
Chapter Title: Compensation or Submission (2)
“Compensation? Compensation for what?”
“We agreed you’d face punishment.”
A low voice uttered words that didn’t suit it.
“What? Huh?”
“No, wait. Was it submission?”
“……”
He even piled on more.
“Don’t you get how hard I’ve been working to make this succeed?”
Ding!
Right on cue, the elevator arrived.
The doors closed, carrying the two of them downward.
“You’ve been doing plenty well yourself, Director Ji.”
“Hmm.”
His tone showed little agreement.
“I know Ji Un-jae is the talented type. I’ve dealt with plenty like him, so I’m familiar. Heard he’s in a slump too. There’s a limit to how much you can babysit his mental state.”
The numbers on the display panel shifted slowly.
“You’re an actor who performs, not some therapist sent to coddle a director. Even if someone steps in to help, it’s only temporary.”
With that, Woo Do-gyeom added something utterly irresponsible.
“From what I’ve seen, types like him snap back to reality when you scratch at them like this once in a while.”
“Wait a second. Does that mean some of them don’t snap back?”
“Exactly.”
“……Then what happens to them?”
“Who knows. They turn into shut-ins or something, I think.”
Woo Do-gyeom answered nonchalantly.
“Hey! Then you shouldn’t have messed with him like that!”
“That’s not my problem.”
He shrugged.
“Anyone that fragile wouldn’t survive this industry anyway.”
[Whoa…… Yeonwoo. This guy’s a total psycho. He’d rank in the top tier of all the lunatics I’ve seen.]
The Dongja-ryeong, who’d normally be plastered to Yeonwoo, was huddled in the elevator corner, muttering away.
Something like……
[Aaah! How can there be such a vicious bastard?! I don’t even want to get near him!]
Yeah, that was it.
The first time he saw Woo Do-gyeom, the Dongja-ryeong had freaked out completely. Thanks to his Earth Spirit Lineage, no ordinary Trivial Ghost could even approach Woo Do-gyeom. It was only because the Dongja-ryeong was so ancient and weathered that he could stay in the same space now.
“That’s way too irresponsible.”
“No choice. That’s the truth. Anyway, my kids will keep joining the reshoots from now on.”
“You sure that’s okay?”
“What’s the issue? They’re still kids, and they look up to you a lot, so check in on them sometimes. Guardians will be with them, but it was you they wanted to see.”
Ding!
A mechanical chime announced their arrival at the first floor.
“Don’t come out. We’ll meet again soon.”
With that, Woo Do-gyeom strode out on his long legs.
[Finally gone. Whew. That vicious guy. No idea why he’s latched onto you, Yeonwoo. That’s why our actor’s on edge and sent me away.]
Yeonwoo let the Dongja-ryeong’s grumbling slide past his ears as he thought.
‘Feels like I got baited.’
Scheming unusual ways to boost audience turnout, which wasn’t like him. Using shock therapy to jolt Director Ji awake, which wasn’t exactly welcome. No matter how he spun it, Woo Do-gyeom busting his ass for someone else felt off.
‘……Guess good things are good?’
In the end, it benefited Yeonwoo.
‘Maybe I can trust his goodwill for once?’
Yeonwoo thought so.
Unaware he’d retract that thought soon enough.
*
“First time filming a movie, right? This must be new for you too. Not too tough?”
During a break in shooting, Yeon Do-hee handed him a warm coffee and asked.
“Better than I expected.”
Movies shot scenes in total disarray. Some even filmed the ending first—the order had almost nothing to do with the script’s flow.
“True. You didn’t seem nervous at all, Yeonwoo-ssi. Knowing Director Ji’s style, you can’t let your guard down till the end.”
Yeon Do-hee let out a long sigh.
“I thought we were done and relaxed…… Then trying to recapture the emotions, I pulled a few all-nighters.”
Of all things, the reshoots hit the most emotionally raw scenes.
Their belated reunion happens unexpectedly.
In a bustling street, Shin Yeo-won and Kim Joo-young cross paths like fate.
Kim Joo-young, escaping harsh reality on a trip, reunites with the Shin Yeo-won he once loved.
Thankfully, time has rewarded her struggles—her life’s gotten a bit better, a bit more okay.
Enough to occasionally reminisce on those sweet past days.
Enough to wonder what if that past were now.
[Kim Joo…….]
Lost in memories, Shin Yeo-won starts to call out to Kim Joo-young.
But she spots a woman beside him and clams up.
She recognizes him, but he doesn’t notice her.
She turns away.
As she does, she thinks.
[We’ve lived such different lives to love again.]
The sweet, wistful love that powered her through exhaustion—it was time to let it go.
Time to release the lingering regrets, even if she’d turned away first.
Another love already stood by Kim Joo-young.
And.
[Oppa. Why’re you just standing there? Dad said hurry. He booked the restaurant for Mom’s birthday party. We’ll be late!]
Kim Joo-young’s gaze, fixed elsewhere, shifts.
That familiar-looking back.
Among the crowd, it snags his eye instantly.
But he doesn’t realize it’s Shin Yeo-won.
“Of all the tough emotional beats, he zeroes in on that one.”
The scene’s mostly static—no big movements, just standing and turning.
The key was emotional acting.
“Few dive into emotional arcs like Director Ji. Helpful, sure, but exhausting.”
Convey everything with a gaze.
How the eyebrows twitch.
How the lashes flutter.
The speed and shift of the eyes.
Top it with subtle lip movements for pity, sighs, regret.
Acting with just expressions and eyes, no lines or gestures, was tougher than it seemed.
Not just the performance—had to immerse the audience fully.
“But we’ve got it easy. In Hollywood, most shoots are greenscreen.”
“Most?”
Yeonwoo recalled the barren set walled in green fabric.
Hard to believe it was a movie set.
“Right? Wild, huh? Acting emotions solo into empty air. Gotta be brutal.”
Not really.
Wasn’t that Yeonwoo’s daily routine?
Pretending not to see what’s right there meant faking seeing something vivid in nothing.
‘All thanks to 23 years training with ghosts…… Wait, that sounds kinda pathetic.’
Yeon Do-hee kept going.
“Even I struggle in front of you. Poor supporting actors—dragging them back like this.”
She sighed for the bustling crew while we stood idle.
“Heard some actor got near-depressed acting to CG dummies. Compared to that, we’re in heaven. Analog’s outdated, sure, but I love that raw feel. Feels authentic. Who knows the future, though.”
Acting evolves with the times.
From silent films on film to today’s tech-driven shoots—the changes are massive.
Old days scrimped on film; now swap memory cards.
Even all-CG movies now.
‘Wonder what a full-CG shoot feels like.’
Would it mimic acting to real ghosts?
“Resuming in 5! Get ready!”
Chat over.
Back to work.
*
Reshoots progressed smoothly, nearing the end.
“How do you nail it so easy, Yeonwoo-ssi? Ugh, my line flubs are eighty percent your fault.”
Enough retakes to make Yeon Do-hee groan.
But the footage sharpened, emotions soaking in deep—visibly perfecting.
“What’d you eat for those eyes? Gumiho liver or something? You’re bewitching folks proper.”
She muttered fake complaints.
“Gumiho liver? That’d be trouble.”
“Huh?”
“Mess it up, you turn into a yokai.”
“……Huh?”
“Not the pretty fox-ear-tail type people imagine. Face turning fox is more realistic. Imagine hiding that hassle.”
“How’d you know?”
Startled, Yeon Do-hee blinked her big eyes.
How?
Yeonwoo grinned, changing tack.
“Just imagining. C’mon, gumiho livers real?”
As if.
But say that, and she’d faint.
“Whew. Gave me chills. You make it sound real. Your words always ring true. Almost fell for it.”
They would—straight facts.
Shrugging instead of truth.
“Bottom line: no gumiho liver.”
“Got it. Keeping secrets, huh?”
“Share it, is it still a secret?”
“No dice. Tsk.”
Secrets? Plenty.
Third biggest gain from this film?
Emotion Transfer.
A derived stat from these reshoots.
Earlier, syncing a scene with Yeon Do-hee.
-Ding!
Sudden alert—Yeonwoo’s first NG.
Prior flubs were extras or her, so the rattled assistant director dashed over.
-Yeonwoo-ssi? Hurt? Tired? Overworked us?
Nope.
They stuck to schedule.
Then what?
Ambulance?
His panic poured out.
No time for that.
[Condition met.]
[Derived stat generated!]
[Acquire derived stat?]
[Yes/No]