Chapter 91…
Farewell Party
The wrap-up party celebrating the end of filming was full of reporters as well.
Seeing the lively atmosphere of the staff, the reporters snapped pictures with looks of surprise.
“Why’s the mood so hyped up?”
“Beats me.”
A senior reporter from the same field answered as if he was watching something amusing, then added:
“But it doesn’t seem like it’s just the mood that’s good.”
“Right?”
“You know, sometimes when you’re filming, you just get that feeling that it’s going to turn out well.”
The junior reporter nodded.
Not always, but often a good film comes out of a good atmosphere.
And from the looks of it, the crew seemed fully satisfied with what they had created.
“But in the end, they say it’s all up to the director. It’s not easy to hit it big with a debut film.”
“That’s true.”
“Honestly, except for actor Oh Joo-hwan, there aren’t really any big names here.”
“Why leave out Woo Soo-han?”
At that, the junior reporter waved his hand as if to say stop joking.
“Come on. He’s only done one supporting role in a drama. Sure, it made headlines, but even top drama leads often flop in movies.”
“Well, that’s true, but I hear he did pretty well this time.”
“Hmm… with this kind of atmosphere, I guess it’s worth expecting something.”
“Actually, this might be the perfect time for something like this to hit big. Just look at how all those blockbusters keep bombing. These days, box office success isn’t decided by budget.”
“True. Once you slap on the ‘blockbuster’ label, expectations rise, and so do the standards.”
“Anyway, let’s get some shots and then grab food.”
“Got it!”
“Actor Woo is hereee!”
As the noisy crowd stirred, Woo Soo-han appeared, and the reporters quickly snapped shots of him entering the party.
They knew better than to photograph him later with a flushed, drunken face—such pictures would be hard to publish, and his agency (and the marketing team) would never let it slide.
Besides, it was just basic courtesy.
“Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo!”
The room suddenly erupted into chants of “Woo,” like hooligans cheering for a football player.
Even funnier, Soo-han raised both hands and danced to the rhythm of their chant as he walked in.
“Are we… allowed to film that?”
“Of course. That’s viral gold.”
The reporters did their job.
Soon more actors arrived.
Even Oh Joo-hwan got dragged into doing the same dance by Soo-han.
The “tragedy” extended to actress Yeo Si-yeon as well—but since it was Si-yeon, it was at least enjoyable to watch.
After the stormy party ended, with drunken “casualties” scattered everywhere, Manager Gu Bong-han, his face red from alcohol, approached Soo-han.
“Hey, brother.”
“Hey, big bro!”
“Man, you worked hard. This is gonna be a hit.”
“Of course.”
They exchanged words like affectionate brothers.
Watching this, Manager Park Yoo-chun stayed silent, having already been warned in advance.
If CEO Lee Ji-yong saw this, Soo-han would be summoned immediately.
“Let’s meet up soon.”
“Absolutely.”
When Manager Gu finally left, Soo-han, who had been grinning ear-to-ear, changed expression and quietly watched him go.
“You’re staring holes through him.”
“He’s gone, right?”
“Yeah. But what are you planning?”
Manager Park looked worried that Soo-han might do something reckless.
“I plan to walk on flower paths from now on.”
“You already are. How much flashier do you want it? Remember, all this is just to help that friend you said was trapped at home find peace, right? Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“If the CEO finds out, I’m dead meat…”
Seeing Park’s troubled face, Soo-han nodded reassuringly.
“Don’t worry! It’s practically over already. I only held back till now because I didn’t want to affect the film.”
“Then that’s good.”
“By the way, what do you think of actress Yeo Si-yeon?”
“Hm? Ah, she definitely made her mark this time. Not even a small role. Director Jo really brought out her charm.”
“You like what you see?”
At Soo-han’s words, Manager Park snapped back, suddenly alert.
“Why? She’s not re-signing?”
“I’m working on making that happen.”
“You’re not actually dating her, are you?”
“And if I were?”
“Uh… she’d be the one to suffer.”
Soo-han despaired.
Why was it that everyone he knew worried not about him, but about whoever was with him?
“How have you been?”
“Same as always.”
With filming over, I went to Man-su’s shrine for some overdue business.
“Old man, how’ve you been?”
[Heh heh. Been waiting for you.]
“Anything you’re craving?”
[Boiled pork today.]
“Alright! Man-su, today we’re having pork!”
“Uh-huh. Funny how you never come when I ask, but only when you need something.”
Man-su looked sullen for a reason.
“Tch. You think I’m free?”
“…Why’d you even start acting? I told you we should go into business together.”
“Tch. You kidding me?”
“It’s just an expression.”
In the end, it was Man-su who caved.
“So, that thing you mentioned.”
“Here it is.”
He laid out some talismans.
“Do I just stick it on my forehead? Like a hopping vampire?”
“Seriously? This isn’t a jiangshi movie.”
Looking exasperated, Man-su explained:
“Originally, you stick them on tools that help with exorcism. Like a sword made from peach wood struck by lightning.”
“But I don’t need that, and carrying something like that would look suspicious.”
Sighing, Man-su pulled out white bandages.
“If you wrap your fists with these, talisman inside, it should work. Like boxing hand wraps.”
“Bandage wraps?”
“Yeah, that.”
Soo-han clicked his tongue.
“What is this, some magical girl transformation nonsense? You’d get punched mid-transformation these days!”
“Then what? Stick it to a sword?”
“What if I put it inside leather gloves? That’d look cool.”
“Ah…”
At that, Soo-han glanced at the guardian spirit behind Man-su.
“Tell me honestly—he didn’t even think this through, did he?”
[Well… he kind of just… didn’t.]
“See? Even your spirit says so.”
“I used all my energy making them, that’s why…”
“Please. If you’d just thought for a moment, you’d have figured it out.”
The truth was, he hadn’t thought about it at all.
He usually just handed over talismans, saying “put it under your pillow, wear it in your clothes,” and never explained much.
He rarely even made exorcism-related talismans, so he’d wasted a good amount of expensive paper and cinnabar making these few.
“Would it still work if I put it in plastic?”
“…Probably? Why?”
“I need some for my shoe insoles. Can’t just fight with fists like a kangaroo boxer.”
“Why do you always talk in weird metaphors?”
Grumbling, Man-su still said it would be fine.
Honestly, carrying the talismans was just for peace of mind.
Last time, when I fought spirits in the warehouse, I realized it was actually doable.
I could hit them one-sidedly without getting hurt.
No danger, and pretty effective.
The only issue was not knowing how many hits it would take to send them off, so I kept the talismans just in case.
With a pair of leather gloves, I could slip them in and—
“Stylish as hell.”
It would look good and work for exorcisms.
Meanwhile, Manager Yoo from Baeksan told me they’d finished collecting evidence.
They were even ready to file reports on the warehouse site.
If we acted before the other side made any moves, we could throw them in jail and be done.
This wasn’t some horror movie about evil spirits taking over the world.
The law was the best option.
Once they were locked up, my senior could be freed, and it would all end cleanly.
Still, in movies, the cops always let the villains slip away.
To avoid that cliché, I kept the talismans.
After all, clichés are clichés because they happen often.
“So, Operation Freedom begins—”
I paused.
The moment they went to jail, Yeon-ju might move on to the afterlife.
That would mean no proper farewell.
“That’d be… rough.”
I picked up my phone.
Maybe I could call Director Gam-dong, who’d been buried in post-production for days, and invite him out.
Make it into a small, meaningful farewell.
“Gam-dong?”
[Wooow! What’s the occasion today?]
Normally, I’d joke it was his memorial day, but I couldn’t say that now.
[Strange. It’s not even my death anniversary.]
“Don’t! Don’t say that!”
[Why not?]
“Gam-dong’s been overworking himself lately. I just wanted to treat him to something good.”
That made sense.
But Yeon-ju’s eyes looked odd.
Was she sulking because it wasn’t for her?
[Chicken feet, fried chicken, pizza, pork trotters—are those really for health? I guess chicken feet and trotters are good for skin…]
“Whatever you eat becomes part of you. Don’t want it? Don’t eat.”
[Heeey, don’t be like that.]
“Gam-dong, come over here.”
Ah… look at that face.
This guy’s terrible acting made things awkward before, too.
“Uh, bro. Oh! This’ll be good for me!”
[You sound like you’re reading a textbook.]
“…He’s been working too hard, maybe that’s why. Anyway, this gathering’s for him. Let’s eat. Come on!”
Now he clapped happily, like he was used to it.
Fine. If he’s happy, I’m happy.
“Waaah! Looks delicious!”
Except I still couldn’t get used to it.
I tore off a big chicken leg.
Of course—it’s always the leg.
…Huh?
“Here, thanks for your hard work.”
“Huh? Me?”
“Yeah, today’s Gam-dong’s health day.”
Cute.
“Last time when you came, Gam-dong wasn’t here, so I was disappointed. But now that we’re all together, it’s so nice!”
“…Khhhp!”
Hey! You brat!
Gam-dong was holding back tears, covering his mouth.
Looked like he was about to break down.
“U-uh, are you crying?”
“I-I… no, no.”
Anyone could see he was tearing up.
[He must be touched you care.]
“Sorry I don’t do it often. But congrats again on finishing the film! I’m sure it’ll be a hit!”
“S-sob! T-thank youuu!”
Fine, cry your eyes out. I give up.
Then Yeon-ju raised her hand and patted his shoulder.
“You really did work hard. It’ll turn out well.”
“S-sob… thank you… so much.”
Well… it wasn’t a bad picture.
It even looked kind of natural.
Pat, pat.
