Episode 4. Acting Duel
Writer Hyun So-jeong was deeply, deeply displeased.
It was bad enough to be saddled with some washed-up PD for her debut work, but what made it worse was that the fossil had the audacity to meddle with her script.
‘Who does he think he is?’
Anxiety pressed down on her shoulders.
‘I have no choice but to surpass my teacher.’
She carried extremely complicated feelings toward her old mentor.
At first, she had worshiped her teacher like a god.
At least, until she overheard her saying—
“So-jeong… she really works hard, but maybe she’s too trapped in her own world. I don’t think she’ll succeed as a commercial writer.”
It wasn’t gossip but genuine concern. Yet hearing such words from the idol she revered was enough to shatter Hyun So-jeong’s world.
Devastated, she left Kim Ah-ri’s studio that very day.
‘I’ll show you. I’ll prove myself.’
With obsession bordering on madness, she honed her scripts. One of them won the grand prize in a contest and was adapted for the screen.
That was “Suyang – The Thief Who Stole the Throne.”
‘Just watch me.’
She bit her lip.
‘He told me not to include Danjong in the beginning, and now he wants to increase his role? What kind of nonsense is that?’
If PD Choi had approved Danjong from the start, nothing would’ve happened. Instead, he had complained endlessly—and now he wanted more screentime. As if she were some vending machine that spits out scenes on demand.
That was why she was furious.
“Ready—action!”
Clap!
The slate snapped shut and the camera began rolling.
On a hill at sunset—
Danjong gazed at the crimson sky, wandering up Mt. Bukhan under the pretense of cultivating noble spirit to soothe his heavy heart.
The camera framed his small back, hands clasped behind him.
Hyun So-jeong blinked.
‘What…?’
He was merely standing there, yet—
Why did an indescribable grief radiate from that small back?
The slight bend of his neck, his drooping shoulders, his legs spread a little too wide as if forcing himself to look dignified, the angle that cast shadows across the fading yellow sky…
Everything made Danjong appear pitifully out of place in the brilliant scenery.
It was as if the picture she’d imagined had leapt into reality. Without realizing, she covered her mouth.
Then—
Step, step.
Firm footsteps pressed against the dirt path.
Broad, unhesitant strides—the gait of one walking the path of domination.
As if on cue, the camera tilted down, revealing the difference in elevation between the two figures, visually reinforcing the gulf between them.
Then, a tilt up.
Suyang Daegun appeared, leading his retinue like a tiger at the head of a wolf pack, swaggering up the mountain.
If Danjong’s back conveyed sorrow, weakness, and frailty, then the surging muscles beneath Suyang’s robes and his forceful strides radiated ambition and vigor.
Yet, hidden beneath the powerful steps was hesitation, the faint reluctance of a man still wrestling with his conscience.
Even without words, it was clear:
Ah. He climbs this mountain to become king.
The camera didn’t cut.
A long take. Continuous, seamless immersion.
Like a northern wind carrying chill, Suyang dragged tension up the mountain path until he finally stood behind Danjong.
The camera swung around, revealing Danjong’s face for the first time.
‘Such a face of grief and bitterness…’
And behind his shoulder—Suyang’s face emerged.
“—huh.”
Hyun So-jeong sucked in a breath. PD Choi clenched his jaw under the overwhelming pressure.
Kim Je-hoon—no, Suyang Daegun—burned through the camera with presence alone.
It was as though grand orchestral music thundered in the background. His twisted grin, blazing eyes, and confident steps exuded such charisma that even from a distance one felt crushed beneath him.
‘Wow… Kim Je-hoon.’
‘Is he for real?’
‘Did the kid do something to make him this angry?’
In an instant, Danjong’s delicate, quiet emotions were eclipsed. Only Suyang stormed across the screen like a raging tempest.
He laughed savagely.
“Your Highness, what are you doing alone in such a place? It is dangerous.”
At that moment, PD Choi and the writer exhaled together.
“Ah.”
“Mm.”
It was over.
Against Suyang’s demonic charisma, Danjong was nothing but a candle before the sun.
‘Three minutes of free acting, no fixed lines—how could the boy improvise against this pressure?’
Even Hyun So-jeong, who had demanded intensity, felt pale.
‘No, I didn’t mean for him to crush the kid this badly…!’
And then—
Danjong, Lee Ji-woo, turned around.
‘Will he be alright?’
Kim Je-hoon had been torn climbing the path.
“Could you please not hold back? Play Suyang with full charisma.”
The boy’s shining eyes had begged him.
He’d wanted to stop him—this was reckless bravado. But the child had insisted with a sly smile:
“Shadows must be deep for the light to shine brighter. Please, let me face your acting. Then even the writer will change her mind. Just once—please, sunbae!”
So he agreed.
To teach the boy a lesson. Even if it was a shock, he would learn.
That was why he played Suyang more savage and ambitious than ever.
But the moment Danjong turned around—
Kim Je-hoon, as Suyang, involuntarily gasped.
Danjong, Lee Ji-woo’s eyes blazed.
Against the sunset, his face was shrouded in shadow—save for those two burning eyes glaring straight at him.
Like a wounded tiger crouched in the rocks, stalking the hunter.
“Dangerous, you say?”
His voice twisted upward with subtle defiance.
Kim Je-hoon faltered.
Was the boy simply reckless? Too naïve to fear him?
No. The trembling in his voice revealed the truth.
It wasn’t bravado—it was dignity.
“With my uncle here to guard me, who would dare threaten me? Or am I wrong, Suyang Daegun?”
Even if threatened with death, he would not grovel. A boy’s fear colliding with a king’s pride, sparking flames of defiance.
The words had thorns.
A veiled accusation—isn’t it you who endangers me?
‘Well now…’
Amused, Kim Je-hoon nearly forgot his lines. But excitement surged.
‘This kid… is fascinating.’
“Hahaha! Such praise! If Your Highness trusts me so deeply, then I shall break my body striving to repay that faith.”
“Indeed…”
Danjong lowered his gaze, hiding his thoughts—only to raise it again.
“Future historians will surely speak highly of your loyalty, Daegun.”
History will judge you.
If you commit treason and dethrone me, so be it.
But will you endure the condemnation of history?
Sparks flashed in Suyang’s eyes.
‘Insolent brat…!’
He bowed quickly to hide his expression.
“I am honored beyond measure.”
Step. Step. Step.
Danjong descended the hill. The bent back, drooping shoulders, and gloom had vanished.
His head held high, eyes shining, he strode with the majesty of a king.
So majestic that Suyang’s own men faltered.
Step. Step.
He approached. The camera captured the collision of gazes.
Suddenly, Danjong stopped beside Suyang.
“I shall go first. The sun is setting, and night is near… be careful not to trip over the stones while staring at the sky, uncle.”
“…!”
A warning, cloaked as courtesy. Suyang’s fists trembled, but he replied—
“Yes, Your Highness…”
And as he glared at the boy’s departing back, his eyes smoldered.
“Your grace… is overwhelming.”
The camera rolled.
Time flowed again as tension slowly dissipated.
Only after a few seconds did PD Choi come to himself.
“C-cut!!”
“Phew!!”
“Wow!!”
Like a spell breaking, exclamations erupted around the set.
“That was amazing! Incredible!”
PD Choi ripped off his headset and rushed to Ji-woo.
“Ji-woo! That was phenomenal, an absolutely perfect scene!”
“Ah, really? Thank you.”
“Honestly, up until Suyang appeared I thought, ‘This is doomed.’ But the moment you turned around and pushed back—it raised the tension to a whole new level! The royal pride! The trembling that still carried dignity! You were Danjong!”
Excited, he turned to Kim Je-hoon.
“Right, Actor Kim? Wasn’t it brilliant?”
Kim Je-hoon chuckled helplessly.
“Well… what came to mind was this: ‘This brat isn’t some meek king. If he grows up, he’ll sink his fangs into my throat. I’d better kill him now or be killed.’ That’s the feeling I got. Hah, ridiculous. How old are you, kid?”
“Ten, this year.”
“…Ten? Good lord. At that age I was watching Power Rangers.”
Everyone rained down praise.
But then the atmosphere quieted.
One person had yet to speak.
All eyes turned to writer Hyun So-jeong.
She kept her head bowed.
PD Choi cleared his throat, savoring his victory, and asked slyly:
“Now then, what did you think? A three-minute long take, no NGs, all in one pass. Do you still think Danjong isn’t enough?”
Slowly, like a poked sloth, Hyun So-jeong raised her head.
“Uh.”
“Huh?”
“It’s a complete mess!!”
Fury blazed in her expression.
“That is not Danjong!! I will not accept it!!!”
