Tears on Yang Se-hee's Cheek
Tears streamed down Yang Se-hee's cheek. Lee Tae-gyu gently wiped them away with his thumb, then cupped her face lightly with both hands. He gazed at her slowly, his eyes like those of someone beholding a lost lamb. Yes—right now, Tae-gyu was truly feeling it. The emotion called pity. Pity for the lowly ones who had never seen the world's light, never heard the words of truth, never felt its warmth.
His eyes churned like the depths of a deep well. Drawn by some inexplicable emotion, Yang Se-hee welled up, only to be swept away once more by an indescribable feeling upon meeting his gaze. She threw herself into his arms, sobbing.
"Sniff."
But Tae-gyu didn't falter. Even as he slowly patted the head of the lamb-like girl leaning against him.
"Sob... ughhh!"
"It's okay now. Everything's going to be alright."
There was no hint of romance or impure lust. Just a faint smile settling over his reverent expression.
"The end times have come. In this hellish place where the wicked blind the eyes and ears of the righteous, it is our duty to guide sisters like you who wander lost. So rest easy here."
Before they knew it...
"Our Great Heaven Church will help you see the world's hardships that tormented you as mere dust."
The atmosphere had warmed. Like clothes gradually soaking in a drizzle, his soft, pleasant voice had piled up layer by layer, creating this very perception. A benevolence that seemed to understand everything—this was more than enough to naturally unleash the emotions Yang Se-hee had been holding for her acting.
"Sobbbb..."
In truth, those who stuck it out to the end in cults fell into two types. One was trash like JMS, so consumed by money and lust they couldn't even pretend to be human anymore. The other was the ones who genuinely believed.
The dokkaebi fire Tae-gyu had donned now was the latter.
"......Welcome, sister."
And that made it all the more dangerous. Because that fanaticism was sincere.
This was just like that guy from the Myeongmyeongbaekbaek Church he'd seen at Cheongsong Prison.
'You've come all the way to this hell seeking truth!'
'Ahh, what a day overflowing with grace!'
'Since it's such a precious day, I won't need to give the bugs their punishment time today.'
'Now, shall we have a time of enlightenment?'
'What do you wish to know, brother?'
'I shall tell you the clear truths of the world!'
The guy from Cheongsong Prison who had smiled sincerely when Tae-gyu said he was there for an interview.
Whoosh!
His attitude had mostly been genuine. Awe—gratitude—holiness. Even based on a wrong faith, he viewed the entire world around him through eyes filled with that kind of emotion.
Except for one thing.
As long as you didn't do anything that went against his fanatical beliefs, he would surely come across as a good person.
'......Hmm.'
Yes, as long as you didn't do anything to irk him.
'Brother, when studying the clear truths, you must approach it with utmost seriousness.'
'Is there a reason for that expression?'
'Illness or habits are no excuse before His great will. Fix it immediately.'
'......That irreverent smile again.'
'I won't demand a month of ritual purification like the bugs in here... but consider this a warning.'
'Right now.'
'Demon-possessed scum! How dare you make that ridiculous face while speaking of the clear truths!'
Every time Tae-gyu pulled a funny face mid-conversation to harvest various emotions from 'that guy,' his face had crumpled more and more.
'This Satan bastard, I'll rip out your heart and guts—!'
In the end, it twisted into the face of a snarling demon ghost brimming with thick killing intent.
'This demon-possessed fuck mocking the clear teachings again—!'
Even as the guards restrained his arms, his bizarre voice—fists pounding with enough force to shatter the visiting room window—still rang vividly in Tae-gyu's ears.
Pat, pat.
As Tae-gyu comforted Yang Se-hee by stroking her head, he knew.
Whoosh!
The dokkaebi fire he'd copied this time wouldn't dissipate for quite a while—not until you crossed that line that provoked the fanaticism.
In short, it was more intense than previous emotions, and if you couldn't find a trigger to explode it all at once, it would linger faintly yet stickily for a set duration.
—Cut! Cut, Tae-gyu!
This was already the second cut signal, and even knowing the acting was over, he couldn't shake it off immediately.
"You don't have to shout! I have ears pure enough to receive the untainted truth!"
Tae-gyu spouted nonsense, but he had the rationality to sense the odd reactions around him.
"......?"
"......?"
"......?"
The lingering desire to hold onto this unresolved dokkaebi fire was, if anything, like the urge to roll around in bed on a morning after sleeping in.
Flicker.
Through considerable practice and training, Tae-gyu had discovered a technique to shatter any remaining dokkaebi fire with a bit of willpower.
'......Delete.'
By expending one more emotion pocket, Tae-gyu could now not only switch dokkaebi fires but also delete unspent emotions on the spot.
Snap.
With a light finger flick, the fanatic dokkaebi fire vanished.
"Ah."
Tae-gyu patted Yang Se-hee's shoulder—still clinging to him—turned to the crew, and bowed his head.
"Sorry, I got too immersed and couldn't stop right away on the cut. My apologies."
But the atmosphere was off.
"......"
"......"
"......"
People's misconceptions had begun.
***
Gulp.
Han Joo-hyuk swallowed dryly. The passion in Lee Tae-gyu's acting just now had grown far beyond what he'd seen last time.
'......This is it.'
Han Joo-hyuk, a method actor, was thrilled yet fearful after facing off against Tae-gyu again post-Monster City.
'Ears pure enough for untainted truth? Crazy, how deep did he dive?'
Joy at the chance to break acting's limits once more with that monster.
And fear that the gap between him and that monster might have widened even further in that short time.
'......That felt real as hell just now.'
Tae-gyu's performance—if he set up shop in front of Seoul Station like that, he'd have a small cult in a week.
Han Joo-hyuk, who'd thought his own skills had risen lately and maybe he could push back this time, let out a hollow laugh.
'Unbelievable.'
Masters knew. Acting that exploded emotions or blatantly created dissonance was easier than portraying an everyday yet subtly unnatural character so faintly and ordinarily.
The texture of the lines was different—like how the same arrow reaches different targets depending on who draws the bow and how.
Han Joo-hyuk was just curious. From behind, he hadn't seen clearly—how had Tae-gyu used his facial muscles, directed his gaze, timed his breaths and movements to draw the string?
And also...
Why would a monster like that ask Cheon Yoo-seong of all people to teach him acting...
'......Ah.'
[Not Ashamed to Ask Those Beneath]
Recalling the Analects' phrase about not being ashamed to learn from inferiors, Han Joo-hyuk realized it instantly. Someone with the passion to visit a prison for role research wouldn't miss a single lesson from a guy like Cheon Yoo-seong.
'But why not me...?'
A goal had formed. In this short time left, he'd make that guy acknowledge him and ask him for acting advice—no matter what.
'In our one-on-one scene, I'll pour everything into it.'
His heart already raced with tension.
Thump.
Han Joo-hyuk believed without doubt this was his chance to grow.
Imagining the one-on-one scene with that monster soon, a thrilling shiver ran through his body.
'......Joined the right project!'
'......Dude's insane!'
Cheon Yoo-seong, who recognized the acting's brilliance, felt the same.
'For sure, this guy's blowing up.'
He'd felt it during Hoshi-jeol too—Tae-gyu's acting was the real deal. Inevitably destined for superstardom.
"Aigoo, hyungnim, great work."
"Sorry. Got too into it and NG'd..."
"What're you talking about?"
"Huh?"
"Getting to see hyungnim's acting twice? Best thing ever. It was seriously good. Man, my eyes are blessed."
Thinking he needed to buddy up faster, Cheon Yoo-seong slung an arm around Tae-gyu and slowly raised his camera to capture the moment.
"Seeing hyungnim mess up makes you more human, kinda nice. First-shoot NG souvenir pic—"
"Hey."
Yang Se-hee mustered her courage and stepped in.
Having just wiped her tear tracks, she bowed to Tae-gyu.
"Sorry!"
"......Pardon?"
She bowed again to the puzzled Tae-gyu.
"I forgot my line and caused the NG. Your acting was amazing, but because of me—"
"Ah."
"I'll stay sharp and work hard!"
"No, it's fine."
Tae-gyu waved it off at her misunderstanding.
"I kept acting after the cut."
"That cut happened because I couldn't say my line and just cried."
"No, more than that—"
"It's my fault."
Yang Se-hee felt embarrassed. Her role was to be 'enchanted by the elder.' She had lines to deliver, but she'd gotten so naturally pulled into his acting that when she snapped out of it, she'd just been bawling.
"Really, it's okay."
"Still—"
"Hey, if our hyungnim says it's fine...... What the—!"
Slap!
Cheon Yoo-seong and the crew recoiled as Yang Se-hee slapped her own cheeks with a sharp smack.
"No mistakes next time!"
Her eyes sharp, she snorted with renewed resolve.
Perhaps it was her body's struggle to forget Tae-gyu's otherworldly acting that had unconsciously drawn out even her real tears—or self-reproach for losing her pace, or a rebuke to her own judgment for underestimating this monster rookie.
'......Get it together, Yang Se-hee?'
What bugged her most was this actor Lee Tae-gyu's insane passion—still immersed in character even after the cut.
'At least work harder than him, Yang Se-hee!'
Believing desperation and passion were all a struggling actress needed, Yang Se-hee fired herself up again.
"Let's go again!"
"Sure."
The people here exchanged glances and nodded.
"I'm ready."
"No prep needed—straight retake, Director."
"Love the passion."
Tae-gyu's chilling acting plus Yang Se-hee's overflowing drive were heating up the set.
The mood ignited.
Even the extras there just for the daily wage nodded to each other, prepping for the retake.
'......Earn respect through acting.'
'......Ask for drinks after.'
'......Keep pace! Overcome with passion, Yang Se-hee!'
As passion-driven Han Joo-hyuk, national little-bro Cheon Yoo-seong, and weed-like unknown Yang Se-hee each dreamed different dreams...
Grip.
O Director clenched his fist.
Watching Tae-gyu deliver incomparable acting from the audition, he'd changed his mind.
'Damn it.'
It irked him a bit that a man's firm resolve broke so easily, but no helping it.
'Retirement.'
How could a filmmaker let this slip?
'......On hold!'
The chance to screen that suspiciously chilling cult elder before all of Asia's film industry.