Ghost-seeing actor

Everyone was looking at Taeju.

Some people raised their voices excitedly at Dongrak.

“Dongrak, you didn’t just set him up, did you? Why did you tell us not to expect anything from him when he’s this good?”

Dongrak, also in a daze, looked stunned.

“I didn’t know he was this good either.”

“Hey, with skills like this, he’s beyond our expectations.”

At first, Taeju had been introduced as Dongrak’s friend.

But now, he was remembered as a guy who was good at boxing.

Taeju, still in shock, stared at his own fists.

What happened?

Seongbok’s punch was definitely fast.

But it had seemed slow to Taeju.

Why?

‘Did watching all those boxing videos and practicing yesterday really have an effect?’

Just then, Lee Joonghyup’s voice passed through Taeju’s mind.

[When you help a ghost achieve peace, the ghost, in exchange for finding rest, passes on its abilities to you. In other words, you now have the abilities of a boxing champion.]

‘Then why didn’t anything happen when I helped the child ghost find peace?’

[That child didn’t live long enough to have significant abilities. Sadly, they met an early death.]

‘So when I help a ghost find peace, I can gain its abilities?’

Now that he thought about it, when he helped the old man ghost find peace, there was something the ghost had said.

-[The fragments of my life. The only thing I can give you is that. Take it well.]

‘I thought it was just an illusion he showed me… But receiving abilities? Really?’

No wonder his body had moved so well just now on the ring.

Waiting for the opponent’s punch to come close to him.

Luring them into a fake move to deceive them.

The dazzling footwork, mixing various techniques into a combination attack.

These weren’t just moves that could be explained by good athleticism.

Amazing.

‘So, this means I could have many abilities?’

There are so many ghosts in the world, so there must be countless types of abilities.

Taeju’s once-clear eyes became clouded.

He couldn’t help but ask, excitedly, to Lee Joonghyup.

‘Why didn’t you tell me this until now? You should’ve told me earlier!’

Lee Joonghyup, making a strange expression, replied.

[What difference would it make for you to know this? Isn’t acting a job where you persuade others with your acting skills, not by using abilities?]

His words felt like a bucket of cold water.

Calmness washed over him.

Taeju tried to calm his pounding heart.

It was good to have gained the ghost’s abilities.

However, he had forgotten something more important.

He had come here to act.

‘Right.’

Taeju’s determined gaze met Lee Joonghyup’s probing eyes.

‘An actor must win with their acting.’

Taeju smiled lightly, and Lee Joonghyup gave him a strange smile in return.

Taeju then turned to face Dongrak immediately.

“Director, how was my acting?”

After all, it was the director who decided on the actor’s performance.

Regardless of how satisfied Taeju was with his own acting.

The actor interprets the character, but the director interprets the work.

However, one thing was clear.

An actor could persuade the director with their acting.

Dongrak seemed like he was about to say something, his lips twitching.

“You… what the hell…”

But in the end, he couldn’t finish his sentence and gathered the staff together.

“Let’s have a quick meeting.”

***

The rehearsal was temporarily paused.

The staff surrounded the camera, their faces serious, occasionally glancing at Taeju while discussing something.

Taeju stepped aside for the time being.

As expected, things weren’t going as smoothly on set.

At that moment, a visibly anxious Seongbok grabbed Dongrak by the arm.

“Hey, get it together. The main character in this scene is me. Don’t give too much power to the supporting actor.”

“Hyung, let’s talk outside.”

Dongrak took him outside.

A few minutes passed.

From outside, the sounds of Dongrak and Seongbok arguing could be heard.

The staff were growing restless.

“Ah, we don’t have time to be fighting. Why are they arguing?”

“The skill gap between Taeju and Hyung is too big. Maybe we should just let Seongbok Hyung take the facial shots and use Taeju’s movements for the action scenes?”

“Hyung said he’d never accept that. His pride would be hurt.”

“But how long are we going to let them fight like this? We don’t have much time left.”

Some of the staff, anxious, went outside to bring Dongrak and Seongbok back in.

However, it wasn’t long before they all returned, shaking their heads.

“We couldn’t get in. Both of them are too stubborn.”

At that moment, the loud shouting between the two men outside suddenly stopped, and everything went quiet.

The staff, concerned, spoke.

“Did they fight?”

“Dongrak? He must have crawled out quickly.”

“No, Seongbok hyung might have done something to Dongrak. He’s the type to throw punches when words don’t work.”

Hearing the staff’s words, Taeju, worried about his friend Dongrak, hurriedly went outside.

But what he saw was unexpected.

Seongbok was lying on the ground, gasping for breath.

“What happened?”

“He said his chest felt tight and that he was short of breath. Then he suddenly collapsed like this!”

From nearby, a clicking sound could be heard.

[He’s tall, thin, and seems like a smoker. That’s definitely a pneumothorax.] ‘Pneumothorax?’

Lee Joonghyup explained to Taeju.

[You need to get him to the emergency room right away. If not, the air will get trapped in his lungs and rupture. I’ve seen people who tried to tough it out on set with a pneumothorax and it got much worse. ] Upon hearing this, Taeju immediately took out his phone and called 119.

Dongrak urgently called out to him.

“What, what are you doing? Who are you calling?”

“Your hyung is in an emergency. I think it’s pneumothorax. His lung might be torn.”

“Pneumothorax? What are you talking about?”

“Shortness of breath and chest pain. Those are the classic symptoms of pneumothorax. He’s been doing intense boxing and smoking, so his body’s in trouble.”

Seongbok, who had been gasping, let out a painful groan.

“It hurts… It hurts! Do I have to go through this just for this cheap movie? Argh!”

Both Dongrak and Taeju’s faces twisted in discomfort.

Lee Joonghyup clicked his tongue behind them.

[There are shabby movies, but no such thing as a cheap movie. His attitude as an actor is all wrong.] ‘Sir.’

Taeju called to Lee Joonghyup.

‘How did you know it was pneumothorax?’

[I’ve spent years on set, so naturally, I’ve encountered things like this.] Lee Joonghyup shrugged his shoulders.

[Set life is full of variables.] ‘Variables…’

Taeju’s heart skipped a beat.

He felt that the variables on set might affect him in some way.

***

Seongbok was taken to the hospital in an ambulance.

The sudden incident caused the atmosphere to become chaotic.

It’s true that many variables arise on set in a movie.

But for the lead actor to be out—that was a major accident.

Dongrak, who had been on the phone with Seongbok, sighed as he walked back inside.

“What happened?”

“Can he come back?”

“It seems unlikely. They said it will take at least two weeks to recover.”

The staff began to press Dongrak.

“What are we going to do now? We only have one week until the movie submission date!”

Complaints rose from every direction.

“You rented the gym only for today, right? Now, with Seongbok hyung gone, today’s scene is canceled.”

“Then why did we decide to do a boxing movie in the first place? We could have gone with something safer, like a school drama.”

At that moment, the director came in with a well-built athlete.

“Hey, Dongrak. Are you going to quit the movie? Are you really going to fall apart just because one actor is missing?”

“Quit? No, that’s not what I meant. But we need to think it through…”

The director pointed to the athlete.

“I’ll have my guy step in. Since you’re making a boxing movie, I’m more than happy to cooperate.”

“Really?”

Dongrak’s face lit up, as if he had forgotten about his worries.

“Then we’re grateful! If he’s willing to step in, we’re all in!”

“However, there’s a condition. Let’s make this a match between my guy and yours.”

Thud!

A heavy hand was placed on Taeju’s shoulder.

“I saw earlier—this kid has spirit, and his punches are heavy and powerful. Plus, his gaze and stance are great. Since we’re doing this, we should make it as realistic as possible, don’t you think?”

“So, what role would your athlete play…?”

“Of course, he’ll be the final opponent of the lead. What acting does my guy need to do? You’re the one who has to do the acting.”

Taeju quickly looked around, his eyes darting.

‘Are they suggesting I take the lead role? No, Dongrak would never accept this offer.’

But several of the staff nodded.

“It seems like a good idea. Right now, it’s the best alternative.”

“I saw Taeju acting earlier. His voice tone was good, and he didn’t seem awkward at all.”

“We just need to do the directing well.”

Thud.

Dongrak grabbed his hand.

His eyes were filled with desperation.

“Taeju, please help me. If you just put in half the effort you did when you were a child actor, we can save our movie.”

The desire to help and the doubt if it was possible.

As Taeju hesitated between those feelings,

[What are you hesitating for?] Ijungyeop intervened.

He spoke the hidden desire that had been buried deep inside Taeju’s heart.

[You’ve been wanting that role since the moment you first received the script.]

***

Ijungyeop’s serious voice resonated in Taeju’s heart.

[You’ve practiced a lot of lines from Myung Hyunseok at home, right? You said you needed to understand the other person’s emotions and analyzed everything carefully.] That was true.

However, he hadn’t practiced for a situation like this.

No, perhaps he had been waiting for a moment like this.

To perform a role with proper lines and narrative in front of the camera.

He really wanted to act.

But he had to think realistically.

‘Can I really convince everyone with my acting?’

Taeju scanned the staff members around him.

Some nodded as if there was no other choice.

Others had expressions that showed confusion.

That was to be expected.

Except for Dongrak, no one here knew about his past as a child actor.

They didn’t know that he had practiced acting alone in the park.

They just thought he was a friend of Dongrak’s who came to do a small role.

“Hey, Seodongrak. Don’t say nonsense. You’re using your friend because there’s no backup?”

Dongrak raised an eyebrow.

“Then should we just cancel the movie here? No, that’s impossible. I’ll somehow save this movie.”

“What’s the point of a good script if the acting isn’t up to par?”

He shot a glance at Taeju.

“No matter how good your friend is at boxing, he’s just an ordinary person. Has he ever acted before?”

Taeju clenched his fists tightly.

This was an opportunity worth its weight in gold.

He didn’t want to let this chance slip by.

Even if it meant revealing his hidden past.

He took a step forward.

“I used to work as a child actor. My most notable work was playing the role of ‘Ddolddoli’ in ‘Ssamgapsong Family’ when I was 11. I’m confident in handling camera angles and on-set acting.”

The people around him started murmuring.

“Ssamgapsong Family? That was really famous.”

“Ddolddoli? Are you talking about that Ddolddoli?”

“Is this for real? Then why did you hide it?”

The reactions were full of surprise, and there were doubts about whether it was true.

Taeju looked at Dongrak’s face, wondering what was going on.

He bowed his head to Dongrak and the staff.

“Please, just give me one chance. I understand the tight filming schedule and the deadline for submitting the film. I will do my best and work hard.”

The staff’s opinions were divided.

“If he has a child actor background, he’ll probably know how things work on set.”

“No wonder he seemed comfortable with the camera earlier.”

“But it’s still a bit risky. Let’s just hire an acting student with availability, someone who can come today.”

Then.

Dongrak stepped forward.

“Let’s do a test first. Let’s do the scene we were going to shoot with Choseongbok, just switch the roles.”

Taeju met Dongrak’s eyes again.

His friend’s face was a mix of nervousness and hope.

“I trust you.”

“Thanks. I won’t disappoint you.”

And I won’t disappoint myself either.

Although I haven’t acted in front of the camera in a while, I’ve never let go of my own acting.

Taeju clenched his fists tightly.