Ghost-seeing actor

The competition is less than a week away now.

Although he has been working hard, Hyunseok is determined to give his best effort until the end.

Morning runs, which he has done every day, continue today as well.

However, today is not the usual course he has run.

Usually, he runs to Han River Park.

But today, he heads toward a bustling fruit market filled with people.

Breathless from running hard, he turns into a narrow alley.

Before long, his eyes are drawn to a shop.

A middle-aged woman arranging fruits on a display.

Unintentionally, Hyunseok mumbles under his breath.

“Mom…”

At that moment, she straightens her back and turns around.

Their eyes meet, and her eyes tremble as she recognizes her son.

“Hyunseok!”

Hyunseok hurriedly runs toward her.

It wasn’t the right time to face his mother yet.

Because of family circumstances, he had been adamantly opposed to taking up boxing again.

Therefore, he wanted to present a satisfying result before facing her.

That was the best atonement he could offer his mother.

So, he had no choice but to run away.

It was then.

A trembling voice echoed through the air.

“Our son, fight! Mom will cheer you on!”

Hyunseok, with his fists clenched, kept running.

Tears streamed down his pale face.

He fled from his mother.

Yet, she supports him, despite his selfish actions and disappointments.

A poor son, always causing her worry.

His trembling voice struggled to hold back the tears.

“I can’t take this anymore, really…”

Hyunseok clenched his teeth.

He gathered himself and hardened his resolve.

Now, it’s truly only about winning.

He wants to win for himself and for his mother.

Taeju clenched his teeth with all his might.

Just like Hyunseok wants to present a trophy to his mother, Taeju feels similarly.

He knows his family supports his acting.

So, he wants to repay them with great performances.

That way, he can stand confidently in front of them.

It’s the best way he can repay his family.

“Let’s work hard!”

He ran forward with all his strength.

***

The camera was filled with Taeju.

Dongrak ordered a close-up shot repeatedly, praising his expression.

“More, more close-up.”

His damp hair stuck to his forehead.

Red eyes, trembling lips.

And the desperate, yet unreachable, small voice flowing from his mouth.

“Let’s work hard!”

The crew watching silently burst into cheers.

“Awesome, awesome, awesome!”

“There’s sorrow, longing, and depth in it.”

“Look at his eyes, they’re alive!”

Some wiped their eyes with their sleeves.

“Wow, making people cry like this.”

The crew erupted in cheers for Taeju’s performance.

Amidst the commotion, Woo-don slipped into the crowd.

Initially, it began with mere curiosity about the shoot.

Now, that curiosity has turned into obsession.

He was fascinated by how far Han Taeju could go.

Not long ago, his eyes, which were forcing back yawns out of exhaustion, now sparkled like someone who had found a treasure.

***

“How was it?”

Taeju hurriedly ran toward the camera.

Dongrak, who had been glued to the monitor, stepped aside.

“See for yourself.”

The previously shot scene passed quickly on the screen.

The scene of passing by his mother.

He gathered himself and ran forward.

His face filled the entire screen.

“Are you filming this close-up?”

“Compared to shooting above the bust, doing a close-up of the face enhances emotional delivery. It’s more touching.”

Dongrak smiled slightly.

“Taeju, your acting earlier was damn good.”

Embarrassed, Taeju listened as nearby crew members chatted.

“I was worried at first, but Taeju, your emotional immersion is excellent. The longing for your mother and your desire to repay her is deeply moving.”

“Your mother did a great job too, but you carried this scene. You did well.”

“Fantastic.”

[Of course, I had to do well. I insisted on changing the script on set as a professional actor; it wouldn’t make sense to fail now.]

Taeju quickly turned his head.

He met eyes with Joo-hyup, who smirked.

“Still, I’ve worked hard and focused. It feels good to see that effort reflected in my acting.”

[You sure like to talk a lot.]

A rare smile flickered across Joo-hyup’s face.

“Let’s start wrapping up.”

At Dongrak’s signal, the crew began cleaning up.

The market, which they had come to at dawn, was now bathed in bright sunlight.

At that moment, the woman they had worked with earlier approached.

She nudged the man standing beside her gently.

“This guy is amazing at acting. I almost cried earlier.”

The man scrunched his nose.

“Is this Han Taeju?”

“Yes, I’m Han Taeju.”

Taeju stepped forward with a wary look.

His unkempt beard and a scar near his eye gave him a suspicious appearance.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Park Woo-don. I’m an assistant director under Director Yoon Ido.”

The revelation sent a ripple through the crew.

“Director Yoon Ido? Wow, amazing.”

“I heard he’s preparing his next project. Was it a historical drama?”

“Wasn’t it with Kang Jaehan and Yoon Suahn as the leads?”

Park Woo-don cleared his throat and addressed Taeju.

“I’ve been watching you since earlier. You’re talented.”

“Thank you.”

“So, I wanted to talk to you. You’re exactly the kind of actor we’ve been looking for.”

***

A quiet cafe.

Joo-hyup glanced across at the people sitting opposite—Assistant Director Park Woo-don and members of the production crew.

The expression in Joo-hyup’s eyes turned skeptical as he observed them.

It seemed strange that there would be an audition for a film that was about to begin shooting.

[The casting should have been wrapped up already. So why the audition?]
Just then, the youngest member of the production crew appeared with coffee.

“Here, take this.”

Taeju, sitting quietly in the corner, cautiously accepted the coffee.

He glanced around carefully, and Park Woo-don smiled warmly.

“Let’s have a drink and talk.”

Taeju took a sip of the coffee.

He wasn’t suspicious of the people in front of him.

He even received a business card from the person claiming to work for Sunil Productions.

Most importantly, Joo-hyup’s mention of working with Director Yoon Ido confirmed it.

[It was around 8 years ago when I got cast by Director Yoon Ido for a role as a detective. Park Woo-don was the assistant director back then as well.]
Joo-hyup whispered from behind.

[They must be quite desperate if they’re going through casting this way on set.]
Taeju drank his coffee quickly, feeling the tension rise.

Director Yoon Ido was one of the top three directors in Korea.

He was unique in balancing artistic and commercial success.

The recent project he was preparing with Kang Jaehan and Yoon Suahn garnered significant attention and anticipation.

Why me for a project like that?

-If the Assistant Director is casting personally, it must be an important role.

-This isn’t a small role.

-You, Taeju, need to grab this chance.

Earlier, the crew and Dongrak had also been encouraging him.

If the assistant director is casting personally, the role must be significant.

This opportunity felt once-in-a-lifetime.

At that moment, Park Woo-don began to speak.

“You’re aware that Director Yoon Ido is preparing a new project?”

“Yes, I heard it’s a historical drama.”

The title is Shadow Warriors.

It was being projected as the most anticipated film of the second half of the year.

“In this project, Kang Jaehan will be playing a dual role. There are many similarities between Kang Jaehan and you, Taeju. Similar physique, similar age range…”

Park Woo-don handed Taeju a script.

“I think it would be great if you could take on the role of Kang Jaehan’s double.”

***

“What exactly do I need to prepare for?”

Taeju scratched his head in discomfort, facing a situation he had never encountered before.

In front of him lay the script he had carefully studied, handed to him by Assistant Director Park Woo-don.

The role he was offered was unique.

Kang Jaehan, the protagonist, was playing a dual role.

When both characters appeared simultaneously, a stand-in for Kang Jaehan’s back view was required.

—The shoot is scheduled for next Wednesday. Please come if you’re in, but let us know three days in advance if you’re not.

Over the past few days, Taeju analyzed the script and practiced martial arts movements.

However, this role was always just a stand-in for the back view.

No dialogue, and no facial expressions to convey emotions.

From the start, it was a role focused solely on the back view.

But standing still and doing nothing felt unnatural.

How should he approach this?

[Are you going to do this?]
Joo-hyup leaned in beside Taeju.

[Well, now you can’t back out. The AS period has passed.]
“What’s AS period?”
[The period where you could have backed out was three days ago. You didn’t say anything, so they need a plan. You didn’t notify anyone.]
Joo-hyup questioned curiously.

[Don’t you know that if you’re just doing a back view, you won’t get to showcase your acting?]
“I know.”
[So, you’re doing it anyway? Why? You’ve always wanted to act.]
“Oh, you must think I’m a fan of Kang Jaehan, that’s why.”
“No, the script is interesting.”

Taeju waved the crumpled script in front of him.

“This script fascinates me. I’m curious to see how it translates to screen. Plus, working with Director Yoon Ido presents a great opportunity. I can learn from Kang Jaehan, Yoon Suahn, and other talented actors.”

Rising star Kang Jaehan and one of the most celebrated 20-something actresses in Chungmuro, Yoon Suahn.

Just observing their performances would be a valuable learning experience.

[Well, the more experience, the better.]
Joo-hyup nodded.

[I’ve worked with Director Yoon Ido on a project too, and let me tell you, everything is meticulously planned. He sticks to the script and doesn’t allow improvisation.]
“So, that makes it even harder.”

Taeju flipped through the script.

“I have no lines, and the camera focuses only on the back view. I’m not sure how to approach acting in this role…”

The script was highly compelling.

A tyrannical king plagued by paranoia and constant assassination threats.

To ensure his safety, his attendants devise a solution—protecting the king by day and finding a double who resembles him closely to take his place by night.

A bodyguard who comes to protect the king.

In the process, he faces his greatest challenge—his confrontation with the queen.

She has secluded herself in a thorny fortress, wounded by the king’s betrayal.

The bodyguard, however, cannot turn away from her.

She is the young lady of the household he once served.

The bodyguard’s warmth gradually melts the queen’s pain, and they fall deeply in love.

Taeju read the script multiple times, especially the part about the bodyguard.

It was the heart of the story, and the narrative was captivating.

If Taeju plays Kang Jaehan’s stand-in, he will portray both the king’s and the bodyguard’s back views.

The tyrannical king’s image was clear after reading the script.

However, the bodyguard’s portrayal left him uncertain.

Passionate? Cool-headed? Fierce?

After much contemplation, an idea suddenly struck him.

“Where can I meet the ghost of the bodyguard?”

[Why? What do you want to do?]
“To learn how to protect and guard like him.”

[Then you should go to a palace. Gyeongbokgung or Changdeokgung, where ancient kings lived.]
“Go to the palace? There’s no guarantee that the ghost holds a deep sorrow there.”

[Where else would the bodyguard ghosts be? Eating tteokbokki at a street market?]
Joo-hyup chuckled.

[They served kings their whole lives. If they became ghosts with unfulfilled regrets, they would naturally stay near the palace.]
Taeju momentarily imagined meeting the bodyguard ghosts.

What kind of regret did they carry?

[There’s no ghost without a story, but bodyguards spent their lives suppressing emotions and wielding swords. Their regrets run deep.]
“You’re right. With decades of sorrow, how deep could their grief be?”

Taeju gently ran his fingers over the script.

The title Shadow Warrior shone brightly.