As soon as the signal for the start of filming blared, the actors scattered in all directions. Nearly twenty actors swiftly darted across the set, making for a visually striking scene.

‘As expected, these are all people confident in their physical abilities,’ Seoyeon thought as she ran, quickly scanning her surroundings. Given that everyone here claimed to be an action actor, there wasn’t a single person who moved slowly.

‘Ah, except for one.’

There was one person running somewhat sluggishly—Jo Seohui. Although it felt a bit harsh to think so, she seemed like an easy target.

‘Anyway…’

Seoyeon exhaled slowly. This might be a variety show, but it wasn’t just that; it was a legitimate acting audition. She needed to stay in character and perform her role convincingly.

‘My character is…’

After the initial meeting, Seoyeon received a call from Hyper Action Star, asking her to define her ability for the script. This was likely where they would solidify the characters’ abilities.

Naturally, Seoyeon confirmed that her character’s ability was regeneration. She had no intention of changing that.

When she received the script afterward, it indeed confirmed that her ability was regeneration. It also listed the abilities of the other contestants in Group A. The reason was simple.

‘The ability itself is the script.’

Professor Kim Hongbaek had once said that the most important aspect of action acting was “matching the timing.”

No matter how flashy your movements are, if your partner can’t match you, it’s just gymnastics—impressive, but hollow.

“That’s why, for action acting, you need to rehearse endlessly and imprint your partner’s movements into your mind.”

Punching, kicking, getting hit, and falling down—if you want these movements to look natural, you need to sync up with your partner.

“But when all of this is happening live, that’s when an action actor’s true skill shows. Because at that point, all the acting is essentially improvisation.”

Your ability serves as the minimum safeguard. If you’ve memorized your partner’s ability, you can quickly adapt to it in real-time.

‘That’s why this is the script.’

There were no lines written in the script, but all the abilities were listed. So, when the moment came to act, they would have to engage as if clashing swords. Seoyeon mentally reviewed the abilities of those around her, as if reciting lines from a script.

She also took in her surroundings—the structure of the set, the electronic scoreboard on the wall, and the number of cameras.

‘There are twenty cameras in addition to the ones installed around the set.’

It was an impressive number. With that many, it seemed likely that each person had a dedicated camera operator following them.

‘There are five watching me.’

As Seoyeon ran through the set, designed to look like a ruin, she felt the eyes following her. These were the ones who were watching her closely from the start, trying to keep her in check.

Three of them were moving together as a team. They must have formed an alliance before the shoot began.

Seoyeon thought it was a smart move. Three is better than one. By sticking together, they gained character development and attracted three cameras to their group.

‘Ten seconds.’

The electronic scoreboard displayed the names of the twenty participants. All of them were currently at zero points.

They were likely tallying the points in real-time. Since no one was wearing sensors, the crew must have been monitoring the action and keeping track manually.

‘Five seconds.’

Seoyeon suddenly stopped running and turned around to face the three people who had been following her.

“...!!”

The three actors trailing her flinched momentarily when she turned to face them. However, realizing they were outnumbering her, they glared at her sharply.

‘Ju Seoyeon.’

She was probably the most recognizable actor among the participants in this audition. Although Jo Seohui was also well-known, she was in a different league—one that was hard to mess with. Moreover, Jo Seohui had never performed action scenes before, so her abilities were difficult to gauge.

‘If we don’t take her out quickly, it could be dangerous.’

In acting, presence is everything. Cha Seoah’s presence in The Chaser had been overwhelming, and her action scenes were excellent.

‘We don’t know what the next missions will be…’

This first mission, purely based on points, was clearly the best opportunity to eliminate Seoyeon. Getting hit by a paint bullet resulted in a -1 point. A fatal wound meant -20 points. On the other hand, hitting another actor with a paint bullet awarded +1 point, and hitting a critical area gave +5 points.

Additionally, if you inflict a fatal injury on a high-scoring opponent and put them in a “dead” state, you get half of their points.

‘Roughly, those are the rules.’

And of course, since this was acting, if you “died,” you couldn’t move anymore. It was up to the actor’s discretion. No one would accept someone continuing to move after suffering a clearly fatal wound.

“One second.”

Someone said. The guns in their hands shifted, and the muzzles were aimed at their target.

Three guns pointed at Seoyeon. From a distance, PD Lee Kitae, who was monitoring the situation, tensed up. At the same time, he recalled a conversation he had recently with an executive from GH Group.

“If we proceed with these survival missions, Seoyeon’s chances of being eliminated are high.” “Really? I actually think the opposite.”

GH Group’s Director Kang Taejin had clasped his hands on his lap.

“Didn’t you watch The Chaser?” “Yes, I did.” “Did you happen to see the interviews?” “Interviews...you say?”

No, he hadn’t seen those. He couldn’t even recall there being any interviews. But as he was thinking that, Kang Taejin continued.

“After the film surpassed ten million viewers, there were interviews with the production team and the actors.”

In that interview, actors Kim Daeheon, who played Detective Im Seungcheol, and Park Heejun, who played Detective Seo Gwangil, said the following:

“The last fight scene? Oh, don’t even talk about it. We almost died. I’m sure Park Heejun would agree.” “Oh, definitely. I was confident in action scenes since I’m a former special forces soldier, but...”

They said that when they were filming the action scenes in The Chaser, they could have wrapped it up in a single take.

“A single take?” “Yes, but I wasn’t satisfied. Seoyeon was perfect.” “Is that even possible?”

The surprised reporter asked. Usually, action scenes are shot multiple times to get the timing right, which is physically exhausting and challenging. That’s why stunt doubles are typically used.

Professional stunt actors specialize in action scenes. But how could Seoyeon, a relatively new actress, pull it off so perfectly? The fact that the two actors were dissatisfied with their own performances and asked for another take spoke volumes about Seoyeon’s skill.

“What do you think they said to that?”

Kang Taejin clearly remembered how the two actors responded to the question.

“They said, ‘She matches the timing by watching the action.’” “Matches the timing by watching?”

In other words, the moment Seoyeon sees her opponent’s movements...

“Seoyeon seems to be able to visualize countless action sequences the moment she sees her partner’s acting.” “Is that possible?” “Who knows? But if it’s happening, it must be.”

If it’s happening, it must be possible. Kang Taejin’s words echoed in Lee Kitae’s ears as—

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The paint bullets were fired. The camera zoomed in on Seoyeon.

The muzzles were aimed at Seoyeon’s chest. A hit here could be fatal, even with her regeneration ability.

‘The script lists two weaknesses for Ju Seoyeon.’

The script detailed the characters’ abilities and listed critical weaknesses. In Seoyeon’s case, as a regeneration user, her weaknesses were her heart and head.

Without these weaknesses, she would be practically invincible under these rules. So the three actors trailing her targeted her chest.

They couldn’t shoot her in the face because that would result in immediate disqualification.

As they pulled the triggers—

Seoyeon’s eyes met theirs. They couldn’t look away from her piercing red eyes.

At that moment, Seoyeon lowered her body and twisted her stance in one fluid motion.

“...!!”

The three bullets whizzed past her, missing by a hair’s breadth.

‘No way! Did she just dodge that?’

It was so seamless that it almost seemed like she had anticipated the shots.

“What are you doing? Shoot!”

One of them shouted to their startled companions, but Seoyeon was already on the move.

“Gasp!”

She was charging straight at them? Normally, you’d expect someone outnumbered to take cover or run away.

Or, at the very least, return fire to keep them at bay.

‘Why?’

But Seoyeon continued her low, aggressive charge, her red eyes fixed on them.

‘What was her character setup again?’

In the heat of the moment, it was hard to recall the details of the script. How could anyone remember who had what superpower under such pressure?

Bang! Bang!

The two actors fired again in quick succession, but Seoyeon raised her left arm and swatted the bullets away.

“!!”

Normally, getting hit by a paint bullet would mean you could no longer use that limb. After all, this was acting.

But Seoyeon was a regeneration user. Her weakness was her heart, but as long as she wasn’t hit there, she could take hits anywhere else without worry.

‘I should’ve chosen regeneration!’

Most of the actors had chosen physical enhancement as their ability, while others had opted for powers like telekinesis or pyrokinesis, which were easier to imagine but harder to depict without CGI. But with regeneration...

“Acting.”

Seoyeon’s face suddenly appeared inches from the actor’s, her voice barely a whisper.

“You should act, right?”

He hadn’t even noticed her getting this close. Before he could react—

Seoyeon’s right hand moved, pressing the muzzle of her gun against the protective gear under his clothes.

Bang!

The paint bullet struck his chest with a crisp sound, instantly reducing his score by 20 points.

“...!!”

The others hesitated to shoot because Seoyeon was so close to their fallen comrade, effectively using him as a shield. Meanwhile, Seoyeon remained perfectly still, not giving them any opening.

They could just shoot her, but then they realized why she wasn’t moving.

‘She can’t shoot at long range, can she?’

Given Seoyeon’s physical abilities, it didn’t seem like she’d have trouble with it. But the fact that she didn’t do it suggested otherwise—it was part of her character setup.

Seoyeon had established her character as someone who, despite her regeneration abilities, was poor at long-range shooting and had to rely on close-quarters combat. She had just demonstrated this limitation in a single scene.

A regeneration user who excels in close combat—that’s how she clearly defined her character’s strengths and weaknesses.

“Are you not coming at me?”

Seoyeon’s voice was cold, her expression reminiscent of Cha Seoah’s emotionless gaze from The Chaser, her lips curling in a mocking smile.

‘Acting.’

When had she started acting? The actors felt a chill run down their spines.

‘Wait, is that how a normal person moves?’ ‘Isn’t she supposed to have physical enhancement?’

All three had chosen physical enhancement as their superpower, thinking it would make the action scenes easier. But looking at Seoyeon, they couldn’t help but feel like mere extras.

“Damn it!”

One of them leaped forward, signaling with a glance for the others to take advantage of the distraction and shoot.

‘Even with regeneration, she can’t have healed her left arm yet.’

That was the assumption. So as soon as he moved—

“?”

Seoyeon vanished from sight. Where did she go? He slowly turned his head to the side.

Thunk.

He felt the cold muzzle of her gun against his side. The other two actors turned their guns on Seoyeon, but before they could pull the triggers—

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Three shots rang out in quick succession.

The scoreboard displayed the updated scores.

Ju Seoyeon: 15 points.

The score went up with a pleasant ding, and everyone’s attention shifted to the scoreboard. Among them was Min Doha, who had been watching the fight unfold.

“...”

She had planned to jump in when the opportunity arose, but something about the situation felt off. How was Seoyeon dodging paint bullets like that?

Seoyeon looked down at the three actors she had just defeated. They were now fully immersed in their death scenes, performing with all their might.

While it was a bit sad to see them acting out their deaths, Min Doha quietly raised her gun at Seoyeon.

‘While she’s off guard…’

Slowly and silently, she pulled the trigger from behind Seoyeon.

Bang!

The sound of the shot was followed by Seoyeon taking a step back, the paint bullet grazing her left shoulder.

“Huh?”

She had aimed for the center of Seoyeon’s back, yet Seoyeon had dodged it after hearing the sound?

“...”

As Min Doha processed this, Seoyeon turned her gaze toward her. Those crimson eyes locked onto Min Doha’s, and in that moment, Min Doha did the only thing she could—she turned around and ran.