Chapter 21
Chapter 21
A Price for Perfection
I thought I’d escaped the apocalyptic world for a bright and hopeful story about an actor, but a single memory sync seems to have changed the genre to a mystery.
Yu Yeon-seo squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, repeating the motion. It was an attempt to hold on to his consciousness. He’d vomited enough to make anyone wonder if something was seriously wrong, but now he was coughing up blood...
‘At this rate, I’m actually going to die...’
Beta, who had been studying humans lately, had grown more meddlesome. Yu Yeon-seo ignored it and bent over to vomit more blood. The blood he spat out splattered not only the sink but the floor as well.
<Current synchronization rate is 12.82%.>
Pushing himself to the limit yielded a rather important memory.
He may have been an asshole, but he was smart, so he wouldn’t have had such thoughts without reason. The voice doubting his mother’s suicide was definitely Yu Yeon-seo’s. So, who was he talking to?
‘My brother? Or a third party?’
Yu Yeon-seo splashed his face with cold water and looked in the mirror. His once fair and smooth skin, which even the grimy makeup couldn’t hide, had taken on a grayish pallor.
‘That’s not what’s important right now.’
He felt like he was about to lose consciousness, but this wasn’t his home; it was the film set.
‘While this feeling is still vivid, I have to shoot at least one more scene.’
Why else would I have pushed the memory sync to its limit like this?
Yu Yeon-seo struggled to his feet. The nausea lingered, but it was bearable. Fortunately, his costume was already stained with fake blood, making it perfect for hiding what he had just coughed up.
“Ah, shit...”
A curse escaped his lips involuntarily. With every step, his entire body screamed in agony from the slightest friction, as if he were suffering from complex regional pain syndrome.
Before entering the set, Yu Yeon-seo roughly wiped the cold sweat dripping down his face with his sleeve.
“Oh? Yeon-seo, you’re back!”
A staff member shouted amidst the crew, who had been murmuring about the lead actor’s absence.
“Director, let’s shoot right away.”
Director Park Ho-jin studied Yu Yeon-seo’s pale face. To him, it looked as though the actor had gone off alone to immerse himself in the role. The director instructed the other staff to prepare for filming.
“...Um, are you okay?”
A staff member attaching a wire to Yu Yeon-seo’s body was so concerned that he forgot the rumors about the actor being a scoundrel and spoke up. Yu Yeon-seo nodded wordlessly. The small movement sent another wave of nausea through him.
“Let’s hurry.”
His body felt like it was going insane from the unprecedented pain, and his nerves were frayed. But no one complained about his curt words.
The image of Yu Yeon-seo, eyes wide as he fought to hold on to his fading consciousness, was overlaid with the filter of an actor immersing himself in his role.
Park Min-woo and Lee Han-gyeol, who had been about to say something to Yu Yeon-seo, backed away at the sight. They felt they shouldn’t disturb his focus.
“Ready, action!”
His stunt partner was the martial arts director, Park Seong-jin. Thanks to the dozens of times they had practiced the choreography before filming, his aching body moved instinctively.
“...Captain.”
Park Seong-jin was playing the role of Sergeant Kim Woo-jin’s superior officer, who had turned into a monster due to an unknown virus. As he twisted his body and made grotesque sounds, Yu Yeon-seo—as Sergeant Kim Woo-jin—swallowed hard and took a step or two back.
They were in a narrow corridor inside the ship. A few steps back, and he could easily close the door and isolate the infected captain.
Just as he was calmly trying to exit the space, the monstrous Park Seong-jin lunged at him.
“Ugh...”
Yu Yeon-seo’s hands, which he used to block the fist rushing toward his face, trembled violently, and a pained groan escaped his lips. It wasn’t acting; it actually hurt.
‘Ah, I should’ve just gone home...’
He’d pushed the memory sync to its limit, and now he was immediately doing a difficult action scene. Yu Yeon-seo, regretting his decision for a moment, squeezed his eyes shut and then snapped them open. The action made Sergeant Kim Woo-jin’s situation seem all the more desperate.
Martial Arts Director Park Seong-jin, on the receiving end of that intense gaze, widened his eyes in surprise but, like a true professional, continued acting.
“Aargh!”
Parrying the punch, Yu Yeon-seo rolled to the side and grabbed the pistol lying on the floor. Park Seong-jin’s fist pierced the styrofoam wall, and Yu Yeon-seo aimed the gun with both hands at the monster whose arm was now stuck.
“Die!”
Park Seong-jin twisted his body, realistically portraying the impact of the gunshots. He was wearing a strange motion-capture suit for the CG that would be added later; the people who had been teasing him for the ridiculous-looking outfit before filming were now silent.
Yu Yeon-seo’s fervent performance, unlike anything they had seen from him before, was so convincing it felt as if a real monster were standing there.
“Wow...”
Park Min-woo’s jaw hung open. He knew that filming for White Tiger had started because of Yu Yeon-seo, but he had assumed that he, the main character, would be the one receiving praise for his acting and action scenes. But that, right there, wasn’t Yu Yeon-seo; it was Sergeant Kim Woo-jin himself.
‘Is he on something?’
There was no other way his acting could have improved so drastically. He himself had taken a few lessons from Park Hyeon-jeong, Yu Yeon-seo’s supposed acting coach, but he’d never seen such a dramatic change.
‘But he’s too good at switching on and off for it to be method acting...’
Of course, his previous acting had been so atrocious that even a slight improvement would look like a divine performance.
Park Min-woo, Lee Han-gyeol, and every staff member on set held their breath, watching Yu Yeon-seo’s passionate performance.
“Fuck!”
Having used up all his bullets, Yu Yeon-seo irritably threw the pistol aside and drew a knife. It was now or never. Gritting his teeth, he charged at Director Park Seong-jin and lunged.
After a long struggle, Yu Yeon-seo was thrown to the floor. Park Seong-jin extended his arm and lightly tapped his stomach with his fist. The plan was to add CG later to show his stomach being pierced.
“Aaaaaargh!”
Despite the feather-light impact, Yu Yeon-seo thrashed his limbs and let out a piercing scream. Yet even as his body writhed, his abdomen remained perfectly still, as if pinned in place.
At that subtle detail, the director instinctively clasped his hands together in a prayer-like gesture. This was it. The desperate action scene he had excitedly discussed with the writer, Kim Dae-seong.
“Hhuk... Haaak...”
Coughing up blood and letting out a metallic scream, Yu Yeon-seo’s breathing hitched and then stopped. The will to cling to life slowly faded, and he ceased to breathe.
“...Cut! Great!”
After filming the lifeless Sergeant Kim Woo-jin for a few more seconds, his eyes still open, the director finally called cut. The onlookers, who had been holding their breath in suspense, let out a collective sigh.
“Wow, that was incredible.”
“This is going to get flagged by the censors, right?”
“A hundred percent.”
“Even if it gets an R-rating, we have to use this scene. It’s too good to just release as behind-the-scenes footage.”
“Or we could release a 19+ version and a 15+ version.”
They just hoped the camera had captured the scene well. Even those who weren’t in the scene gathered around the monitor to rewatch the stunning performance.
“Shouldn’t we get Yeon-seo-hyung drug tested?”
The staff chuckled at Park Min-woo’s joke about how it looked like he was on drugs. Lee Han-gyeol, who had been staring blankly at the monitor, suddenly looked up.
“Huh? But where did Yeon-seo go?”
“Yeah, where is he?”
At his words, the staff looked around. Yu Yeon-seo, who would normally be the first one at the monitor, was nowhere to be seen.
‘Where did the Young Master go?’
Im Seung-hyeon was also feeling this sense of unease. After looking around for a while, he furrowed his brow. Something was wrong.
“Tae-gyeom.”
“Yes? Yes, hyung-nim.”
At Im Seung-hyeon’s gesture, Lee Tae-gyeom snapped out of his daze and followed him.
‘The Young Master came from this way.’
He had briefly lost sight of Yu Yeon-seo when the staff crowded around the monitor. Stepping outside the set, Im Seung-hyeon anxiously scanned the area. They walked down a deserted corridor to the right before coming to a stop.
“Hah!”
Lee Tae-gyeom, following behind, gasped and ran toward Yu Yeon-seo, who was collapsed at the end of the hall. After a brief hesitation, Im Seung-hyeon also rushed to his side.
“Young Master!”
“Yu Yeon-seo, hey!”
Lee Tae-gyeom knelt down and shook Yu Yeon-seo by the shoulders.
A pained sound escaped Yu Yeon-seo’s lips. The rough shaking made his vision spin, adding to the excruciating pain. He wanted to tell him to stop, but only agonized groans came out.
“Ugh...”
“Hey, Yu Yeon-seo!”
His face was drenched in cold sweat and his complexion had worsened noticeably; it was clear at a glance that his condition was serious. Im Seung-hyeon shot to his feet and pulled his phone from his inner pocket.
“I’m calling 911.”
“...Wait.”
Yu Yeon-seo mustered his strength and pushed himself up. He tightly gripped Im Seung-hyeon’s right wrist, the one holding the phone.
“Hospital... no...”
“But, Young Master.”
“Home... don’t... tell... anyone.”
With those last words, he collapsed to the floor. Lee Tae-gyeom barely managed to catch his shoulders.
“Huh?! Uh... Hey, Yu Yeon-seo!”
Seeing him so still, as if he were dead, Lee Tae-gyeom unconsciously placed a finger under Yu Yeon-seo’s nose. He was breathing, albeit faintly.
“Uh, uh... Hyung-nim, what do we do?!”
Lee Tae-gyeom looked back and forth between Yu Yeon-seo and Im Seung-hyeon. He was panicking from the sudden turn of events and couldn’t think straight.
“Hyung-nim!”
Im Seung-hyeon clenched his fists. Logic screamed at him to go to the emergency room immediately, but Yu Yeon-seo’s last words held him back. No hospital. Home. Don’t tell anyone.
“...Let’s take him home for now.”
“No, in this condition, the hospital... Right! We have to go to the hospital first!”
“Make an excuse on set and come quickly.”
Im Seung-hyeon ignored Lee Tae-gyeom and hoisted Yu Yeon-seo onto his back. Despite supporting a man over 180 cm tall, he didn’t lose his balance as he ran to the car.
“Aish, dammit...!”
Left behind, Lee Tae-gyeom shot to his feet. The red liquid on his hands bothered him. It had to be fake blood, but something felt off. He ran in the opposite direction of Im Seung-hyeon, back into the set.
“Oh? Yeon-seo’s manager, where’s Yeon-seo? Is he not going to check the monitor?”
Lee Han-gyeol, who had just been about to go look for Yu Yeon-seo, spotted Lee Tae-gyeom.
‘How should I explain this?’
Lee Tae-gyeom’s eyes darted around. He had been close enough to hear Yu Yeon-seo’s last words, and he knew Im Seung-hyeon wouldn’t have suggested going home instead of the hospital for no reason.
If I tell them he collapsed, word will get back to his family, right? He definitely wouldn’t want that. In that case, it’s better to use his old reputation for being an asshole.
‘But hasn’t he been spending a shit-ton of money lately to fix his reputation?’
This would ruin all that... As Lee Tae-gyeom hesitated, Lee Han-gyeol’s expression turned suspicious.
‘Ah, screw it.’
Stomping his foot in frustration, Lee Tae-gyeom blurted out in a fit of pique.
“He said he’s going home to feed his dog.”
“What?”
Aish, of all the excuses... What if he chews me out later? No, that wasn’t the problem right now. He had to get to the car.
“Well then, I’ll be off!”
Lee Tae-gyeom hurriedly left the set, leaving Lee Han-gyeol and the others nearby to stare blankly at the closed door.
“...Hah!”
“What the hell?”
Scoffs of disbelief erupted from all around. Everyone looked disappointed.
“Isn’t there still a lot left to film today?”
“Wow, that’s a first. An actor ditching a shoot to go feed his dog.”
“I thought he was starting to act like a decent human being lately... I guess a leopard never changes its spots.”
“What about our schedule? Should we film Han-gyeol and Min-woo’s scenes first?”
The staff, who had been filled with passion from Yu Yeon-seo’s performance, quickly cooled down. As they returned to their positions, they began to subtly bad-mouth him.
“Huh?”
A staff member checking props in the corner furrowed his brow.
“But why is there so much fake blood left over?”
We used so much blood in the last scene. How can there be this much left?