Chapter 17: The Streets Are Wild (1)
“Geez, so annoying.”
Suddenly?
Why does our Gamdong have such a sulky expression?
“Me?”
“No. It’s just… you know. Are you ready?”
The conversation seemed abrupt and cut off, but I figured it wasn’t a big deal.
“Yeah. Guess I’m a genius.”
“……”
“You can see it in my eyes even if I curse.”
“Let’s keep it reasonable if you know what’s good for you.”
“Heh heh heh.”
Gamdong frowned for a moment but smiled back at me, then returned to the set.
Lately, being treated like a human being felt pretty good.
Wasn’t he treated like a human before?
There’s a reason people say “treated like a beggar.” It’s almost the same as soldiers.
You know that story? A grandmother got on a bus, saw only soldiers aboard, and asked, “Why are there no normal people, just soldiers?”
Of course, it’s a joke, but it’s a social jab at how little soldiers are treated as people.
Beggar treatment is even worse. The only beggars who get decent treatment are the staged, performative “pumba” beggars who show up in markets.
“Come to think of it… is he moving up the ranks pretty quickly for an ex-beggar?”
A former beggar actor!
At this point, it’s like a dragon rose from a creek! Somehow, my chest swelled with pride.
But what Gamdong said about being annoyed was nagging me…
Judging from the direction he was coming from, I could tell it was him.
He was standing from a seemingly impressive waiting chair, stretching his body.
The one who had acted stingy over food.
“Don’t I get a chair?”
I wanted a chair with my name on it too. Even he got one.
“If you’re ready, let’s go!”
“Yes, sir!”
Alright, let’s go.
He wouldn’t openly throw a fit, right?
Wham!
Damn it!
“Oh, oops, the timing’s a bit off. Did the person change? It keeps going wrong.”
“That’s because your personality is off.”
“What?”
“Sorry. I meant ‘yourself,’ not you.”
I couldn’t be polite anymore.
If I hadn’t dodged with instinct, it wouldn’t have been a shattered prop; it would’ve been my head.
This was the third time.
I said something, and his face turned red… These are the moments you have to dodge.
“Director, shall we go again?”
“Of course. Juhwan, what’s with you? Lots of mistakes today.”
“Sorry. Maybe it’s because the partner changed; I can’t quite get a feel for it.”
I knew. That guy was doing it on purpose.
It turned out that snack cart was sent by his fan.
Or was it sent by Nidonnisan?
So he’s acting like this because I grabbed more fish cake than he did?
While preparing again, he came over and started ventriloquizing:
“Did you just speak informally to me?”
“I corrected it to ‘sir.’”
“You said something about personality, remember?”
“What! Actor Juhwan, I can’t hear you well!”
Ta-dah!
As soon as I shouted, his expression turned sour.
“Hahaha, no! Let’s do our best!”
“Yes, sir!”
After spending a few days on set, I realized he wasn’t particularly powerful.
Just an average actor from the mid-tier ranks.
Even his acting seemed clumsy.
No wonder he wasn’t getting much attention on set.
In short, he was an easy target.
But those flickering eyes of his were irritating.
I’d dodged well so far, but there was no guarantee he wouldn’t throw himself at me openly.
Sigh.
I didn’t want this.
“Then let’s do this properly! Everyone, keep quiet!”
The call for action resumed.
Once again, he and I faced off like before.
Still glaring… but that’s not how it’s supposed to be.
Juhwan was furious.
Originally, the plan was just to pretend the timing was off to scare him a little.
A small slip like that is normal in action scenes.
The problem was that he dodged or blocked everything.
Of course, you can’t completely go off-script, so if someone has decent reflexes, it’s possible.
The real issue was his response.
And hearing him complain about “personality” made me even more irritated.
Filming resumed.
This time, I intended to put him in his place for real, sword in hand.
Then…
‘Huh?’
A meme-like scene from a movie flashed through my mind.
‘Chilling.’
Or should I say eerie?
The atmosphere suddenly turned cold.
Not outside… but the source was right in front of me.
‘Those eyes…’
They were gleaming.
Sure, it was meant to be hostile acting, but this felt more than that.
Predatory, as if he wanted to devour me.
It was the first time I realized that even in real life, human eyes could convey that much menace.
Squeak!
“Hah!”
A sharp blade flew.
Juhwan dodged and extended his sword.
Muscle memory took over, connecting the next move in the sequence.
‘It’s just my imagination, right?’
He steadied his breathing and brushed past him.
Then it happened.
Though the moves were familiar, something had changed.
‘Th-those eyes…?’
Even as the person passed by, the pupils followed him, rolling like they had a mind of their own.
A chill ran down his spine.
Not from sweat from earlier moves, but a sticky, cold sweat that felt almost viscous.
The fleeting moment stretched unbearably.
Those eyes didn’t leave him for a second.
Even stepping aside, the pupils followed.
His whole body grew heavy, losing control.
His movements grew larger, rougher—not to win, but…
‘Go away!’
It was a desperate struggle for survival.
He wanted to stop, but his mouth wouldn’t move.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Even as he flailed, those eyes relentlessly tracked him.
Predators’ eyes on their prey—was it like this?
Ssshh!
His practice sword grazed the other’s cheek.
His attacks were off-script, wild swings just to survive.
A red line traced across the cheek, a droplet forming slowly like a slow-motion scene.
His mask, brushed by the blade, tore on one side, revealing gleaming teeth.
And eyes fixed on him, grotesquely grinning.
“U-ugh!”
Juhwan let out a short scream.
A flash-like sword swing from Suhan aimed at his torso.
Of course, it was planned choreography, not real.
Waist, chest, then circling around to approach the neck…
He saw it reflected in Suhan’s pupils, as if his throat was the target.
“Ughhhh!”
Simultaneously, a scream escaped Juhwan.
He bounced backward, tumbled, and slid on his butt before running away.
Instinct took over.
Outside the camera, “Cut!” was called, but he heard nothing.
“Tch.”
Watching him run like a madman, I clicked my tongue.
The streets are wild.
Not an exaggeration.
The streets are halfway outside the law.
Fighting to survive is everyday life.
Unrecorded deaths happen there too.
Getting hit and dying immediately is an incident, but lingering and dying? You’re just an unidentified corpse.
What I experienced with that actor?
That was within the legal half.
Disputes with beggars or homeless people? Outside the law.
Disputes with ordinary people? Within the law.
Different circumstances.
I had survived without a group.
You had to be tough; survival without fighting was impossible.
But fighting constantly? Also impossible.
So I relied on intimidation.
Not just fists—if you touched me, you’d die.
No sincerity, it’s fake.
But earlier, I only half-heartedly showed that resolve.
And he couldn’t handle it.
“Cut! Cut! Cut! Suhan, are you okay? Let me see that wound! Wait, what? You two planned this? It’s even better this way!”
“Huh?”
The latter half was unscripted, and I’d prepared excuses, but… this?
The director smiled broadly.
“So… you two whispered earlier and set this up? Isn’t this amazing?”
Everyone around applauded.
Even “Awesome!” could be heard.
Hmm… that went well, right?
Time to smile.
“Ehehehe!”
“Good! But coordinate ad-libs beforehand! If you stray outside camera range, it’s useless!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Where’s Juhwan? Juhwan!”
“……”
I looked down.
Drops of liquid traced the path Juhwan ran off.
Whoa… did he run to change underwear?
If so, this is a “pant-run”…
“J-Juhwan.”
“That bastard tried to kill me!”
“Hey! Snap out of it!”
Inside the van, Juhwan’s terrified cries made the manager panic.
The set vibe was great.
The actor had made a good scene, so naturally the manager felt good.
But the protagonist was missing, and this is what they found.
“What the hell?”
The manager flung open the van door.
Creak!
“Hiiik!”
A sword came at him, making him stumble back.
“Hey! Juhwan!”
“Don’t come! Where’s that bastard? If you come, I’ll kill him!”
“Hey! Juhwan!”
Sensing the danger, the manager climbed in and closed the door.
Only then could he grasp the situation.
Pale, trembling, jaw clenched, body quivering—pure terror.
“Snap out of it!”
The manager grabbed his shoulders firmly.
Then he felt the wetness.
“What sweat…?”
Clothes soaked as if he’d been underwater.
Juhwan asked:
“Did he follow you here? Right? Huh?”
“You… you…”
A sharp smell hit.
The manager’s energy drained.
“First… change clothes. Drink water.”
“Don’t go!”
“Ah, seriously.”
A wave of exhaustion hit.
Filming seemed impossible.
How to explain this? That thought lingered.
“Ouch, ouch, ouch!”
“Geez! We just brushed!”
“It’s bleeding! Do we need stitches?”
“Who would stitch this?”
Gamdong watched Juhwan get treated and chuckled.
“It’s nothing. Just be careful not to scar.”
“Yes.”
After treatment, Gamdong looked at Suhan and asked:
“What was that earlier?”
“Huh? What?”
“Why did that happen? That wasn’t an ad-lib, right?”
“Huh? I… I guess?”
“Geez.”
Filming wrapped up.
The director wanted a few more shots, but with prior scenes done, and Juhwan exhausted, it ended here.
Also, we got scratched and injured—a real accident.
“Be careful. Actors’ faces are their lifeblood, you know?”
“Huh? Oh… right?”
“This guy…”
Gamdong clicked his tongue, suddenly realizing he’d been treating Suhan like a proper actor.
