Chapter 18 – Even the Streets Are Wild (2)
Jo Gam-dong and Woo Su-han were finishing up filming and heading home.
“What on earth did you do?”
Gam-dong asked cautiously. He was puzzled because the shoot had wrapped up so suddenly. Not only that, but actor Oh Joo-hwan, who had played opposite him, hadn’t been seen since. Usually, he would have gone to Director Kim Hyun-chul to get at least one more shot of his face.
“Me? What did I do? You saw it! He was swinging a knife around!”
“I saw… but…”
It was a little strange. Judging by the uneasy feeling right before filming, this scene was more like an accident than an ad-lib. Looking at the flow, it seemed Oh Joo-hwan started it first—but the problem was that the one who caused it had disappeared. And that terrified face in the last shot…
“Looks like someone really messed up!”
Gam-dong raised his voice while gripping the wheel. At that moment, Su-han freaked out as his phone vibrated.
“Ah! A call! A call! I got a call, too! Not from Gam-dong, but for me! Insurance maybe? Or… huh?”
“Well, this is the first time I’ve seen someone happy to get a call from an insurance agent…”
“What is it? Mansu?”
“Huh?”
At the mention of Mansu, Gam-dong fell silent. Mansu was that shaman, the one who had handed over the spirit to Su-han. In a way, he was someone Gam-dong was grateful to.
“What? You wanna meet? Tomorrow? Hmm, let me check my schedule.”
After a few unilateral words, he hung up.
“There’s nothing tomorrow.”
“Seems like there is.”
“….”
“Now I’m a working man too, you know. Not a beggar—just a person.”
“…ugh.”
Gam-dong could only shake his head, realizing he couldn’t stop him.
“Wow, just wow.”
Director Kim Hyun-chul clicked through the footage, shaking his head. While filming full shots, another camera captured close-ups of each actor’s face. One of them had captured Woo Su-han perfectly. The cinematographer insisted they must use this, so Hyun-chul checked it out…
“Where did this come from?”
It was a chilling scene.
“No wonder it felt weird.”
Some actors get so absorbed in their roles that they can’t recover emotionally afterward. Method acting was once hailed as the best, and a few actors suffered side effects from being too absorbed in their feelings. That’s not to say method acting is bad, but there can be consequences.
But in this kind of acting, it was nonsense. Still, what could you do if the actor felt that way? Some crew members had even mentioned seeing people run away in terror, which explained why it had been so intense.
And here was the reason.
“Wow, seriously.”
Hyun-chul looked at his own arm. Goosebumps had risen. It was because of Su-han’s close-up. Even though his head faced forward, his pupils rolled directly toward Oh Joo-hwan. It looked like a shot straight out of a horror movie.
Then came the next scene—this one had been nearly disastrous. Joo-hwan’s fake knife brushed past Su-han’s face, and part of the mask fell off. The revealed face, with its grotesque smile and teeth…
“Ugh.”
The cinematographer who handed over the footage had said he nearly freaked out. At first, Hyun-chul thought it was the usual “wow, amazing shot” exaggeration, but it wasn’t. That expression was genuinely terrifying.
Hyun-chul was conflicted.
“Too much.”
In this scene, the masked character was supposed to stop Joo-hwan and then flee—but it ended up being Joo-hwan who fled. By the result, it technically worked, but the presence was just too overwhelming.
“Should I cut it?”
Yet, it was a shame to lose that scene.
“What to do…”
Sighing, Hyun-chul carefully compiled the rough cut and sent it to the writer.
“Hmm.”
He left a note expressing regret: it was a great shot, but probably couldn’t be used.
“After all, drama is the writer’s playground.”
Passing the responsibility lightly, he smiled and left the editing room, thinking maybe after a meal, he’d have a clearer answer.
“What’s so fast?”
Director Kim Hyun-chul dropped his spoon in surprise at seeing writer Choi Mi-sun panting and standing right in front of him.
“What is it?”
“What, what is?”
“That scene!”
“Uh… an ad-lib?”
Apparently, she had been nearby and rushed over immediately. A junior PD, eating quietly, was clearly the one who let her know he was here.
“Should we scrap it?”
“Or save it? Even if it turned out well for the character, you know it can’t stand out too much.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
“Hey, I’m eating!”
“Now that I’m eating! And you’re saying to throw it away!”
Hyun-chul, looking incredulous, continued:
“You think I like this? But it’s too much for the role. If I had done this, Choi Mi-sun should be mad, right?”
“Well… uh…”
He had indeed sent it to her out of regret, but the story’s core was still the writer’s. He just expressed it visually. Drama was called the writer’s playground for a reason.
“This scene is great, but it’s unavoidable. I just sent it to you because I hated to waste it… and now…”
“I’ll… fix it.”
“Huh?”
“I’ll make some edits myself.”
Seeing Choi Mi-sun trembling, Hyun-chul shook his head worriedly.
“Ah, you said you’ve been busy. Let’s just use it as behind-the-scenes…”
“I said! I’ll do it! Use this scene! I’m heading out right now!”
“Oh? Are you sure?”
She didn’t wait for an answer and ran out of the restaurant.
“Sorry.”
Meanwhile, the junior PD, hesitantly alerting them to her departure, bowed. Hyun-chul smirked.
“Good work, kid.”
“Eh?”
“Uh-huh-huh-huh.”
He felt satisfied. He hadn’t pushed this scene, and the writer would have to share the responsibility for adjusting roles later. Somehow, the soup tasted even better.
Woo Su-han entered the restaurant, waving.
“Long time no see, old man.”
“Sigh.”
Park Mansu sighed at Su-han waving at thin air. The staff at the regular fish restaurant flinched and stepped back. They knew Mansu was a shaman. They didn’t know Su-han, but prejudice works that way. Anyone meeting him was probably considered from the same industry or a client.
“This place is supposed to be good, right?”
“Yeah, pretty good.”
“Show me.”
“Ugh.”
Seeing Su-han speak as if giving orders, Mansu reluctantly led him to the reserved room.
“Stop collecting stuff and eat!”
“Ah!”
I flinched at Mansu’s words, yet I couldn’t help but ask indignantly:
“This is a waste!”
“Just don’t post it next time.”
“No! It’s mine!”
“….”
I shivered at the gold dust sprinkled on sushi. Gold you eat! I’d heard of smugglers hiding gold in absurd places, but that was for recycling, not consumption. This, though, would just become poop.
“Fine! Let’s eat! Even if it becomes poop!”
“…Ah, we’re eating… why are you crying?”
“Because it’s delicious. And precious.”
“Ha…”
“But will it come out as poop or get absorbed?”
“…Who knows?”
He didn’t know either. Su-han’s flustered hesitation at my unexpected question made it clear. The spirit nearby looked at me pitifully.
“Damn. No wonder you greeted me so enthusiastically earlier. Hey, order one more plate. Old man, eat while I eat.”
[Thanks.]
And so, the three of us—well, two humans and a ghostly being—continued our little eating show.
Clack!
The chopsticks hit the table. Park Mansu flinched.
“I just need a little help here, okay?”
Mansu, alarmed at the sudden chill, sat up straighter.
“Hey! Are you kidding me? Buying one plate of sushi and saying that?”
“You ate fifty by yourself…”
Mansu panicked. He needed Su-han’s help urgently due to a recent divination. He had to resolve this matter because of a lawsuit.
Su-han snapped:
“What are you saying? Half of that was eaten by your gluttonous old man! That’s why I can’t eat more and my stomach is bursting!”
“Ah…”
Mansu was speechless. Not wrong, but still unfair.
“I’m begging! If we settle this, the previous lawsuit could be nullified!”
“Not my problem.”
“You can’t even buy meals in prison!”
“Hmph.”
Mansu got a nasty look from Su-han, who added an even nastier smile:
“You still see me as a beggar?”
“Who said I did…”
Mansu lowered his voice and posture. He had to be completely submissive.
“I mean, at the shoot! Eating with the director! Eating tteokbokki! Drinking coffee…”
“Uh-huh.”
“Mm.”
Mansu was nervous. Su-han kept rambling and scheming.
“Hmm?”
He paused mid-brag and looked at Mansu strangely. A famous movie line flashed through my mind:
‘Chilling.’
Today was satisfying. Unlike before, thanks to the old man’s gluttony, my stomach was full, but I finally enjoyed sushi properly.
“Take me along next time.”
Gam-dong said with a disappointed look. I couldn’t help but glance at the top of his head. Loves freebies…
“Why! I won’t take it off just because of that!”
“Can you tell my gaze?”
“It was obvious!”
Gam-dong was getting sharper. Time to stop teasing him.
“Here, this has gold dust on it.”
“Ooooh!”
I handed Gam-dong the pre-packaged sushi. He was startled.
“Eh!”
“Problem?”
“There’s gold dust?”
“I told you! Expensive stuff.”
“Exactly! Normally, someone would scrape it off for themselves.”
He flinched… What a sharp kid. I resisted the temptation.
“Hah. Do you think I’ll be a beggar forever?”
…and subtly revealed the yellow band around my neck.
“What kind of gangster necklace is that?”
“Mansu gave it.”
Technically self-awarded, but he had given it willingly.
“Really?”
“Pure gold.”
“Enough not to covet the gold dust, then.”
“Hehe!”
