Chapter 2

Villain Only 002

Would it fit? (1)

PD Song Jung-woo was walking down the hallway with assistant director Kim Hyun-tae.

He was on the phone with screenwriter Kim Sang-hee.

"Kim Writer, does it have to be a private? Can't we just make him a more comfortable 30- or 40-something? Maybe a sergeant or a warrant officer?"

- No.

"Stop being so stubborn. Why can't we? It's about a murder by a junior soldier at an overseas base. How often does a regular soldier get deployed to the Middle East and go on a shooting spree?"

- I know, but there's a crucial issue.

"What is it?"

- It's hard to resonate with the audience. How many families in the entire country have a member who is a career soldier? On the other hand, almost every family with a son can relate to a conscript.

PD Song Jung-woo softened his tone.

"But this is a legal drama with a lawyer as the lead, not a critique of military practices. Why put so much effort into a minor supporting role that only appears in one episode?"

- The devil is in the details, you know.

"Why did the devil come up all of a sudden?"

- I heard that people are saying I'm the devil behind your back, PD.

"......No, that's not it. It's because Kim Writer always pulls in amazing ratings, like a demon selling his soul to the devil. It's a compliment......"

It's a lie.

He once mentioned that Kim Sang-hee was like a demon due to his stubborn artistic principles during a drinking session.

But he couldn't tell the truth.

"And finding an actor who looks like a real private, innocent and young, is a good idea, but can a young newcomer really pull off this character?"

- That's why we held an open audition. We're looking for someone who looks young, can act, and is affordable.

"Is the audition just for the private role? We're doing auditions for other roles anyway, so we just included it."

- In a drama, every role is a protagonist, and each has their own story. I always write with that mindset.

"Let's just raise the age, okay?"

- We'll talk about it next time. I need to write while I'm in the zone.

"Kim Writer! Kim......!"

Before he could say anything else, the call was abruptly cut off.

PD Song Jung-woo didn't realize that Kim Hyun-tae was muttering to himself, "They're just fighting with their reflections."

He put his phone away with a defeated look, and Kim Hyun-tae cautiously spoke up.

"PD, it's not going to work, right?"

"Man, Kim Sang-hee's stubbornness is off the charts this time. My head is boiling. At this rate, I'll have a stroke before I'm fifty."

"It's not even a crucial supporting role, just an extra-level minor character. Why are you so worked up about it......"

"Hyun-tae, watch out!"

While walking, Kim Hyun-tae didn't see a man standing in front of him and was about to bump into him.

PD Song Jung-woo quickly grabbed his arm to stop him, but the next moment, Kim Hyun-tae was pushed against the wall with a loud noise.

The man, as if he had eyes in the back of his head, grabbed Kim Hyun-tae by the collar and pushed him against the wall with one hand.

Seeing the man's eyes, PD Song Jung-woo blinked.

"Oh......?"

***

"Wait here for a moment."

Jeong Su-ryeon said this and slipped into the crowd in the indoor studio.

The blinding lights, the screeching of metal, and the occasional profanity.

People carrying large camera equipment moving back and forth.

Jeong Se-hoon felt as if he had stepped onto a ship's deck during a work shift.

Familiar scenes that brought back memories of a soldier's life.

But the sight of slender female entertainers walking by broke the heavy atmosphere.

'Uncomfortable.'

Too many people were milling around him, moving restlessly.

Of course, there were no enemy soldiers, snipers, or spies trying to harm him.

The prefrontal cortex, which governs rational thought, reassured him, but some brain cells, accustomed to the battlefield, were overly excited.

The sound of footsteps approaching and then moving away, getting closer and then farther.

Jeong Se-hoon stood still, focusing on the sounds behind him.

Not by choice, but because the overexcited brain cells were urging him.

The sounds of footsteps coming and going from unseen places heightened his tension.

Even though he knew they were just passing by—staff, entertainers, and crew members—his fingertips twitched with the urge to react.

He knew that constantly scanning his surroundings would make him feel better, but the prefrontal cortex warned him that everyone would look at him strangely if he did.

'They're passing by.'

'They've passed by.'

'They're gone.'

Before he knew it, 152 footsteps had approached from behind, brushed past him, and moved on.

Jeong Se-hoon realized that counting each step was not normal.

This was a safe country, far from any war.

A 'soldier' would naturally count each step, thinking that an enemy could be hiding among them.

"PD, it's not going to work, right?"

'5 meters.'

"Man, Kim Sang-hee's stubbornness is off the charts this time. My head is boiling. At this rate, I'll have a stroke before I'm fifty."

'2 meters.'

"It's not even a crucial supporting role, just an extra-level minor character. Why are you so......"

"Hey, Hyun-tae!"

The moment a hard, slightly pointed object touched his back.

The tension he had been holding in snapped, and Jeong Se-hoon moved 'as if in real combat.'

He deflected the 'rifle' aimed at his back, turned, and pushed the 'guerrilla disguised as a civilian' against the wall.

Then he pressed the muzzle of the 'rifle' he had taken to the 'guerrilla's' chin......

'Ah!'

After the instinctive reaction, his rational mind kicked in.

The face of a frightened 30-something man, unsure of what to do.

His rational mind quickly scanned the man's body.

The object the man had pressed against his back was not a gun but a microphone stand.

A protruding belly, limbs with no visible muscle, a terrified face, and heavy breathing.

He was definitely not a soldier.

Even a teenage soldier would be braver than this.

What a disaster.

***

The moment assistant director Kim Hyun-tae, who had been distracted, lightly bumped into the young man, the scene changed in an instant.

Suddenly, Kim Hyun-tae was being restrained by the young man, who was pressing a microphone stand to his throat as if it were a gun.

In a normal situation, someone would have panicked, tried to calm him down, apologized, or questioned if it was too much.

'Hmm?'

However, PD Song Jung-woo took a half-step back at that moment.

He moved to a position where he could see the young man's profile clearly. It was an instinct as a director.

He raised the script he was holding to his eye level, creating a horizontal frame, and placed his palm over his eyes to create an upper frame.

'Look at this.'

The young man glared at Kim Hyun-tae fiercely.

It wasn't forced or exaggerated; it was a raw, natural expression.

'Camera.'

He desperately wanted a camera.

How would those eyes look through a lens, not just with the naked eye?

Would they look fiercer, colder, or more intense?

The young man's eyes moved up and down slowly and rhythmically.

They looked like the eyes of a hunter examining a trapped prey.

Or a soldier deciding whether to kill a captured enemy.

What was certain was that he wanted to see the young man's expression more closely.

The thought that this was an overly intense reaction to a light bump was not in PD Song Jung-woo's mind.

A scene from the script, which he had memorized to the point of exhaustion, unfolded naturally.

S#21.

Prosecutor: Cripple.

Soldier: (Silent)

Prosecutor: Look at me. Where did you, a private, get the nerve to shoot your comrades? I'll make sure you get the death penalty. Scum like you should die in prison.

Soldier: (Glaring) They committed crimes worthy of death. They killed innocent children and the elderly!

Prosecutor: It was an accident due to a sudden guerrilla attack and the darkness! Cripple!

Soldier: (Sneering) It was a bright noon.

Prosecutor: You're talking back to me!

(Prosecutor hits the soldier's forehead with a thick file, but the soldier doesn't flinch and continues to stare straight ahead.

The prosecutor feels a strange chill.)

PD Song Jung-woo muttered, imagining the young man's appearance in a virtual camera frame.

"Would it fit?"

Would it fit? (2)