Chapter 15
Chapter 15
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 015
Chapter Title: Free Lifespan (2)
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“Sorry I’m late. The traffic was terrible…”
“You think we’ve got nothing better to do than show up early?”
Someone grumbled, but the beauty paid it no mind and continued with a bright smile.
“Still, thanks to that, we get to greet everyone at once. Nice to meet you all. I’m Min Yerin.”
The Child Spirit was the one who let out an impressed gasp.
[Whoa… First time seeing Min Yerin, and her mental fortitude is insane. That boldness in insisting we don’t need multiple greetings…!]
Yeonwoo shared the sentiment, though for a slightly different reason.
‘Is that a person or a clump of obsessive thoughts? She’s got them plastered all over her.’
Min Yerin’s shoulders, waist, legs—her entire body was festooned with obsessive thoughts dangling off her like ornaments, to the point where it was a mystery how she walked at all.
Following behind her came a lanky, empty-headed-looking man.
“Sorry… I’m late… Traffic was bad…”
The man recited the exact same excuse as Min Yerin.
“Ugh, must’ve been tough dragging that loach poop along.”
Thanks to the quiet snide remark from one of the cast members, Yeonwoo figured out who the guy was.
An idol who’d landed a supporting role through his agency’s bundling deal with Min Yerin.
Yeonwoo’s eyes widened as he looked at him.
[Whoa… That’s nuts…]
The man was buried so deep in a mass of obsessive thoughts that his face was barely visible.
And slinking in after him were not one or two resentful ghosts.
Yeonwoo thought to himself.
‘If Min Yerin’s just coffee, that guy’s straight-up TOP tier…!’
***
“I’m Heo Yeongho, the director for this project. With all you talented actors on board, I have high hopes for this one. Min Writer’s script feels spot-on, so I’m sure it’ll be a hit. Let’s make it great together.”
Once everyone had arrived, the formal introductions began.
“I’m Min Suji, the screenwriter for this. Looking forward to working with you.”
Min Suji’s introduction was brief.
Next, Kwon Seonghyeon stood from his seat.
“I’m Kwon Seonghyeon, playing Kim Taehoon. Thank you for this opportunity—I’ll do my utmost despite my shortcomings. Please take care of me.”
“No need for you to say that, Seonghyeon. We should be the ones asking. Who doesn’t know every project you touch turns into a blockbuster? Make this drama one too, got it?”
“I’ll do my best.”
The director’s joke helped ease the tension.
Min Yerin then stood and bowed her head.
“I’m Min Yerin, taking on So Yeojin. It’s an honor to work with all you amazing actors. Please take care of me.”
Introductions continued smoothly from there.
After the mid-40s actor who’d grumbled earlier, the idol who’d come with Min Yerin spoke up.
“I’m Ayo, playing the Grim Reaper. Please take care of me.”
Someone piped up at his introduction.
“Ayo? That’s your name?”
“Uh… It’s my stage name.”
“Bit weird calling you Ayo-ssi. What’s your real name?”
It was probably just an innocent question—curiosity about the unusual name.
But.
“Why do you wanna know that?”
The response came back sharp.
“Huh… I was just asking…”
The questioner trailed off, embarrassed.
“God, people sticking their noses into others’ names. So annoying…”
The mutter was quiet enough to get lost in the noise under normal circumstances.
But in the now-silent conference room, thanks to the idol’s prickly reaction, it rang out clear enough for everyone to hear.
The atmosphere turned icy in an instant.
“Ahem. Ahem. Let’s move on.”
The director tried to mediate, but the mood didn’t recover.
Suddenly, the idol’s and Yeonwoo’s eyes met.
The idol’s already sour expression twisted even uglier.
[That guy… Seems like he’s getting the wrong idea?]
“Wrong idea? What kind?”
Yeonwoo’s voice was barely a whisper.
[The way he’s looking at you—it’s the glare of a rival.]
The Child Spirit didn’t hesitate to call the idol a “guy.”
“You know him?”
[Yeah. He’s from a famous idol group trying to branch into acting lately—keeps popping up in dramas. Famous for his awful acting. Oh, want me to tell you his real name?]
“What is it?”
[Lee Deokchun.]
Yeonwoo quickly schooled his expression.
It was far too rustic a name for an idol.
Ah, so that’s why he got so defensive about revealing it.
***
The monumental first script reading.
It started off in an incredibly awkward atmosphere.
But.
“Don’t lie. I can see right through you.”
“Ah, ah, no? It’s me, really?”
“Who do you take for a fool? You’re a unique case, so spit out the truth. Who’re you trying to fool?”
“Cluck! For real! Cluck! It’s me! Cluck!”
As soon as Kwon Seonghyeon began his performance, the mood started to liven up.
With Min Yerin’s quirky, deadpan take on the heroine So Yeojin added in, everyone visibly relaxed.
[This is wild. Thought script readings were just reading lines, but they’re actually acting? If you close your eyes and just listen, you’d swear the TV’s on.]
“Something’s off.”
[Eh? What?]
“Doesn’t seem possessed.”
[Who? Our actor?]
“How does a person switch like that so fast?”
No matter how hard Yeonwoo looked, nothing was possessing Kwon Seonghyeon.
Yet the moment the cue dropped, the man transformed entirely.
‘No way that’s the Kwon Seonghyeon I know.’
Sitting there wasn’t Kwon Seonghyeon—it was Kim Taehoon himself.
Kwon Seonghyeon had dragged the character, who only existed in the script, into reality.
Come to think of it, Yeonwoo recalled the specialties from Kwon Seonghyeon’s status window.
-Specialties: Masterful Acting [S], Mood Control [S], Script Memorization [A+], Presence Command [S], Acting with Eyes [S], Captivating People [S], ….
‘No wonder it was loaded. Makes sense.’
He’d been shocked the first time he saw Kwon Seonghyeon’s status window, but seeing those skills materialize right in front of him was a first.
Until now, he’d only inferred from newly acquired abilities like Frame Composition.
‘Frame Composition at A-rank was enough to get a pro photographer poaching me for a career switch. How insane must S-rank be?’
He could snag skills from people who’d reached high mastery in their fields, like picking up game perks.
Only those who’d tasted that sweetness knew its true value.
‘But without lifespan, it’s all worthless.’
Lifespan was the real key.
Thanks to Kwon Seonghyeon, he could coast for a couple months, but Yeonwoo was still thirsty.
Fortunately, lifespan was everywhere around him.
‘Good call pivoting to this industry. With Kwon Seonghyeon here, no penalty risk either.’
Kwon Seonghyeon was a versatile, excellent lifespan supplier… er, excellent person.
Turning to entertainment was a stellar decision.
It felt a tad suspicious that Lady Kang’s words had panned out, but…
‘Clearing obsessive thoughts benefits Kwon Seonghyeon’s project—no downside, low risk.’
They were just clumps to dissipate.
‘Alright. Time to mine that gold vein.’
Yeonwoo’s gaze shifted to the scattered clumps of obsessive thoughts littering the room.
Meanwhile, the first script reading was building toward its climax.
The mid-40s actor playing King Yama bellowed in a resonant voice.
“What? You’re only now reporting your failure? And it’s no minor issue—a problem in the Death Registry itself?!”
It was the scene where the Grim Reaper gets chewed out by King Yama because the heroine’s soul ended up in the wrong place instead of the afterlife, causing an error in the mandatory Death Registry and throwing everything into chaos.
This led into the later scene where the Grim Reaper heads out on King Yama’s orders to retrieve her.
The Grim Reaper’s appearance ramps up the tension and deepens the leads’ bond—a classic plot hook.
But.
“Sor… ry… Your… Majes… ty… King… Ya… ma.”
It was when Ayo, the idol playing the Grim Reaper, delivered his line.
“……?”
“……?”
An eerie silence blanketed the room.
Did I just hear that?
Sounded like a robot reading a book.
The Grim Reaper was a supporting role, but a meaty one among them.
He injected tension into the story, so presence and acting chops were essential for narrative flow.
Yet Ayo—no, Lee Deokchun’s wooden delivery dragged on.
“I… will… take… full… re… spon… si… bil… i… ty… for… the… Death… Reg… is… try.”
“Ahem! You must bear the weight of your words! A Grim Reaper’s vow is no light thing! Stake your name on it. Understood?!”
“I… ac… cept… your… com… mand.”
The booming King Yama clashed hilariously with the Grim Reaper’s stiff, robotic stiffness.
“Pfft…”
“Eep…”
Stifled snickers erupted here and there before vanishing.
‘Tsk tsk…’
Sure enough, Lee Deokchun’s face had turned beet red.
The script in his hands, pristine moments ago, was now crumpled from how tightly he gripped it in his rage.
“Deokchun-ssi?”
Min Suji stepped in to smooth things over.
“…Yes?”
“The Grim Reaper values rules and principles, so the stiffness makes sense, but right now it’s stiff to the point of caricature. Loosen up a bit.”
She’d danced around it, but the message was clear.
-Your acting sucks!
Naturally, Lee Deokchun’s face flushed an even angrier shade.
The mid-40s actor who’d disliked him from the start smirked smugly.
Min Yerin, party to the bundled deal, had long since frozen over.
“Come on, now. First time syncing lines—it’s bound to feel off. On to the next scene!”
The director intervened again, but the disrupted vibe refused to settle.
‘Kwon Seonghyeon was the exception, huh.’
Only he could dive into character so seamlessly it felt like possession.
Add in Min Yerin as the heroine and the mid-40s supporting actors, maybe?
They said Kwon Seonghyeon’s picks were guaranteed hits, but could they succeed lugging around dead weight like Lee Deokchun?
‘Not my problem.’
What mattered to Yeonwoo now were the obsessive thoughts packing the conference room.
Some had even bulked up, gobbling who-knows-what in the meantime.
‘Ah, there’s that guy.’
The cause was obvious.
Lee Deokchun, stewing in explosive inferiority, radiating negative vibes that the similarly dark obsessive thoughts absorbed.
And then.
[No! Go away! Bad!]
A child ghost was charging at an expanding obsessive thought clump, tiny fists flying in a tussle.
It was the kid who’d been clinging to Min Suji’s skirt hem.
[Go awayyy! Bad thing! Shoo!]
The child strained to peel the obsessive thought off Min Writer’s shoulder.
‘As if that’d work.’
It didn’t look particularly strong.
No hidden power, either.
Unlike the Child Spirit—an innocent shell hiding a century-old schemer.
‘Hope it doesn’t get eaten instead.’
Dark, grimy tendrils crawled up the child’s hand.
[Eek! Gross!]
The child shrieked and shook it off.
But soon charged back with a teary face.
[Get off my mom! Bad! Don’t make my mom suffer!]
To Yeonwoo, it looked like eggshells against a boulder.
Yeonwoo casually fished a small memo pad from his pocket.
Now a fondly familiar Il-su promo notepad.
[Help the kid?]
“Can’t you pity the little one trying so hard?”
“True. But you usually ignore that stuff, Yeonwoo.”
“Thinking of changing that.”
For starters, that obsessive thought squirming over Min Writer like a blanket came with lifespan attached.
It was the monumental first mining from Yeonwoo’s newfound gold vein.