Tae-gyu Returns to His Private Room
Click.
He pushed open the door to his private room at Hanbang Hospital, and moonlight was already pouring in through the window. The predawn night sky. Starlight and moonlight bathed the bed.
"……"
Tae-gyu thought of the wild patients still cackling away in the rooftop garden, chowing down on jokbal and chasing it with soju in their hospital gowns. Nylon patients. Mingling with them had been a one-time thing. With a sigh, he decided to devote the rest of the weekend to preparing for his return to filming.
"Hoo."
He unwrapped the half-cast from his arm and tested moving his right arm. It spun smoothly. Even rolling his shoulder fully produced no major pain. There was a slight catch, sure, but it was worlds better than right after the injury.
And that wasn't all. Over the compression bandages wrapped around his torso. Tap, tap. He could even poke his side now. The spot where his ribs had cracked had hurt so bad during those first days of treatment that even coughing was agony. The minor bruises and abrasions on his torso, legs, and arms had already scabbed over and healed.
Now, all that was left was getting back to filming. But…
"I've been out for weeks with this……"
Tae-gyu's face twisted faintly. He regretted it. Those few weeks of forced rest after getting too hyped during Model Detective 3 filming and going way overboard.
To be precise… Whoosh!
It was because Seo Woong-tae's dokkaebi fire had been too intense.
Originally, he was just supposed to flash his face through the building window, with stuntmen handling the rest of the pro action scene. But Tae-gyu couldn't hold back the burning urge to punish the villain—!
He'd leaped after the fleeing car in full hot-blooded detective mode. And then… Crunch!
He recalled the shooting site: the Model Detective 3 crew and cast with jaws dropped, eyes bulging in shock.
‘…………!’
‘…………!’
‘…………!’
‘…………!’
‘…………!’
A storm of silence swept through. Then, soon after, everyone at the site was left slack-jawed.
‘What the… why go that far?’
Director Hong Woo-sik. His offhand mutter had echoed across the set via the megaphone.
‘Are you insane? How can you move like that in that condition?’
Actor Kim Kwang-woo. His gaze lingered pitifully on his own limbs, which looked puny next to the hulking man's frame, and it was still vivid in Tae-gyu's mind.
‘Going this far… Hm. Good.’
Actor Han Joo-hyuk. Watching Tae-gyu up close, he'd suddenly set his jaw with resolve and vanished behind the crew.
‘A-Are you okay? Wow… but really… you're just… incredible.’
Even Yang Se-hee, eyes glistening with tears.
And on top of that…
‘Well, now, that's acting that cuts to the bone.’
‘Haven't seen a young guy like this in ages…’
‘Reminds me of Tom Cruise.’
‘No wonder everyone's talking about Lee Tae-gyu.’
‘Acting sure ain't easy.’
‘Right? No way anyone does that stone-cold sober.’
‘Whoa…’
The entire set—from veteran actors to the full cast and crew—had been stunned.
Naturally, that wasn't the end of it.
‘Aigoo, hyungnim! What in the world happened?’
Somehow getting there first (even before CEO Do Yoon-seop!), Cheon Yoo-seong had burst in clutching a fruit basket.
‘This is insane.’
CEO Do Yoon-seop, who spat just that one line, tried to light a cigarette in the room only to be earnestly talked down by the hospital director and stepped outside.
‘Aish, you okay? Lucky it wasn't worse. I heard, but are you nuts?’
‘Whoa.’
‘Eat this and get better quick.’
‘Knew you were the real deal, but…’
‘Take care of that precious body, you idiot! We're prepping your next project, and you have to be the lead. So watch your health!’
PD Ji Cheol-geun and writer Kwak In-ho, who'd come together, too.
Everyone fussing in their own way had left his head spinning. Even more so once Hoshi-jeol's box office fire really ignited after transferring to Hanbang Hospital for treatment, keeping the private room anything but quiet.
‘Hyungnim! Hoshi-jeol! Man, it's nuts! You know I've been hyping you up on variety shows, right? Kehahaha!’
‘Need more articles? Just say.’
‘Tae-gyu’s blowing up. What if we miss out on our next project together? Nah, couldn’t be. Hot hot hot—’
Finally, time for himself now that Hoshi-jeol had hit ten million viewers and everyone's attention had scattered outward.
‘……Hm.’
Arms crossed, Tae-gyu sorted the two key issues he'd mulled over during his hospital stay.
In other words, ways to prevent "injuries from overacting" that had sidelined him during this crucial filming window.
‘Right.’
First up: his dokkaebi fire ability, naturally.
Dokkaebi fire was a kind of drive. Like laying out a mouthwatering meal before someone starved for three days, or setting a cool glass of water before the parched. At certain moments, it fueled the urge to unleash the emotions of the dokkaebi fire's original owner just like them.
He had to learn to control that drive.
‘Build up endurance, find other ways to regulate it.’
To curb sudden acceleration in risky moments. Grafting dokkaebi fires, or slowly exploring other uses for it—that's what he'd decided.
And at the same time.
The other point he'd pinned down was more straightforward.
‘Sure enough, people… need to work out.’
He'd realized it watching Kim Kwang-woo laugh off getting slammed into a real wooden beam by mistake, and the stunt actors flying around like circus performers.
This accident? Partly his fault, sure. But…
‘If my body had been tougher… I might not have gotten hurt!’
A conclusion that would make Kim Kwang-woo cheer and any doctor curse him out. Still, he'd made up his mind.
‘After discharge, I'm learning to work out, no question.’
Not just for the injury. He'd felt it even during that combo play disguised as a character interview with Seo Woong-tae. Sure, he'd covered the gaps with the tiger's fierce presence and such, but physically, he couldn't match Detective Seo Woong-tae.
In other words, while he could copy the original owner's emotions, Tae-gyu couldn't copy their physicality. His body had clear limits.
And that was that? No— it was essential for taking on more roles, too. Bulking up quick, dieting down, or delivering agile moves himself to amp immersion in the story.
‘Lucky there's an expert right here.’
Tae-gyu thought of Kim Kwang-woo. Weight training, even the occasional MMA practice. From that squat session last time, learning from him seemed solid.
Moonlit night. Chest faintly stirring at the thought of returning to set.
Drip… Drip…
With cold resolve, Tae-gyu sent the text.
***
The next day. DK Entertainment fitness center.
As Team Leader Jang entered the locker room on wobbly legs after squats with Kim Kwang-woo…
“Jang, team leader.”
“Yes.”
“You think this is for real?”
Kim Kwang-woo, puzzled, showed Team Leader Jang the screen he'd pulled from his locker.
Team Leader Jang blanched upon confirming the sender: Lee Tae-gyu.
What the—? Didn't he puke last time they worked out together? And he just got discharged after an injury bad enough for hospitalization? Did he even realize his situation?
Swallowing his words, Team Leader Jang gave a curt reply.
“No idea.”
“Right?”
Kim Kwang-woo nodded, arms crossed, as if he'd expected it.
“This guy's a mystery. Genius at acting, but half the time I can't figure out what's going on in that head of his.”
“……”
“For real.”
His serious tone prompted…
“We're grooming Tae-gyu as the next big star, right? But real stars need relatability, too.”
“Ah.”
Team Leader Jang's expression shifted. He'd just heard something related.
“Come to think of it, the CEO's been mulling variety show appearances. Nothing that messes with his filming schedule, of course.”
“Variety?”
“Yeah. Got a big one lined up.”
“Makes sense. I did shows around this time, too.”
Timing was key for actors on variety. Build likability early for superstardom, but too late and you lose mystique.
In that sense, stacking relatability now would fuel future growth without alienating fans even as a megastar.
“Not a bad move.”
He'd be back on Model Detective 3 soon anyway.
“Kid's been all tense from nonstop filming. Popping into a station now and then to feel his own hype, meet all sorts—could be good.”
“Exactly.”
“So.”
Kim Kwang-woo nodded and asked,
“……What show?”
***
SBC Content Headquarters, Executive Director's Office.
Facing the variety PD and Variety 1 Department Head…
“……So.”
Executive Director Hwang In-guk cut to the chase.
“You want more budget? Suddenly?”
“Director, back in early spring, our planning got scrapped and that budget all went to Monster City. This time—”
“I know, I get it.”
“It's really tight this time. Not much, just equipment costs and guest fees spiked—”
“Enough.”
Executive Director Hwang waved off the excuses with an easy expression.
“Just the amount. Gimme the number.”
The department head nodded at his relaxed vibe, and the PD hurriedly scribbled the shortfall on a notepad.
“……That's it? Done. No sweat.”
“Huh.”
“For real?”
Hwang chuckled heartily and nodded.
Watching the PD and department head grin back, he smirked inwardly with pride. As a former drama head, he'd neglected variety and radio to save the near-canceled drama department, and guilt had been gnawing. Variety 1 had even okayed diverting their spring budget to drama.
Above all…
‘Chump change.’
The budget was flush. Thanks to Monster City.
‘Overseas was a masterstroke.’
Topping Netflix charts worldwide, then smartly selling to other broadcasters. Who knew noir fever ran so hot abroad?
Anyway.
It hadn't just saved SBC's drama department—it solved Variety 1's budget woes enough to bring the head here. He even had a merit list ready for the drama folks who'd pulled it off.
Merit List
Recalling that drama he'd backed so hard…
“Go for it. I'll push hard.”
“Th-Thank you!”
“Solid planning.”
He tapped the proposal on the desk.
“Peeking into celebs' real thoughts? Always a winner.”
“Thank you!”
He figured it was decent variety, too. Psychologist, hypnotist, profiler TV star wreaking havoc lately, plus cutting-edge lie detectors—diving into stars' true hearts with real psych analysis.
Your Heart Speaks
And seeing someone from his merit list on the casting sheet? That sweetened the deal.
“By the way.”
“……How'd you snag that actor?”