Boom! Boom! Boom!

The sound of bombing continued without end.

-“Those Western bastards are dropping crap from the sky again.”

A comrade who had once cracked jokes under the bombardment at the hilltop had died the other day.

The brief moment of joy when the war was declared over quickly faded, as the despair of one last all-out battle now awaited everyone.

"Revolutionary Hill! Revolutionary Hill!"

The man who used to chant those words, wearing his red armband, was silent now. He had realized with a bitter laugh that his hopes of making it back alive had been extinguished. Now, he moved weakly, following orders, but what did it all mean? They were all going to die anyway.

“But I won’t die.”

Even so, I intended to survive until the end.

To live for my sister’s sake, to find out why she had begged so desperately for a simple meal of rice and meat stew, to know why my family, who had found happiness even in our torn poverty, had to die.

I wanted to ask all of these things.

There were no answers here, in the North. So I wanted to ask the South.

I wanted to know if they really had what was worth fighting and dying for.

“I need to find that person.”

The student soldier’s eyes darted around, searching for a man amidst the endless bombardment.

A man who had approached them in their army uniform as if his own life meant nothing. A soldier who, despite being asked twice, had never answered his questions.

He fixed his gaze on Kim Soo-ha, the man whom Han Tae-gun would be portraying.

Click.

With only a few bullets left, he fixed a bayonet onto his rifle.

I will ask you, why did my sister have to die?

A student soldier, thrown into the war, but who had not learned a single thing in school, still wandering without having heard a simple answer even at the very end.

“Sister, I will bring back that answer when we meet.”

The student soldier moved.

Wham!

And just like that, I was pulled back into reality as soon as the script ended.

[Due to your Celestial Martial Body, you have fully mastered 'Bayonet Combat.']

Then a message from SIMS came through immediately. Knowledge of bayonet combat, which I had never learned before, flooded into my mind. I felt as though I could display skilled bayonet techniques right then if I wished.

‘Incredible.’

I was still amazed by the power of the Celestial Martial Body when—

Bzzt bzzt bzzt.

My phone alarm blared.

Dong-hoo, are you insane?! I missed the part where you were playing the piano back then… but you played it this well?!

I chuckled at Kim Soo-jin’s message.

Guess the reactions are pretty good, huh?

+++++

Even as Kim Dong-hoo continued filming Endless Frontline, time moved on. But time doesn’t always pass equally for everyone.

In recent weeks, KBC Drama Director Kim Cheol-do’s time had been dragging by agonizingly slowly.

“Zuhahaha…”

The days when his hearty laughter filled the air were long gone.

“After seeing the ratings for Episodes 1 and 2, I thought we had our signal to blow everyone else out of the water.”

The slight ratings increase for Episodes 3 and 4 was a bit of a disappointment. While any increase was welcome, it hadn’t matched the celebratory beef dinner he’d had.

It had been the same for Episode 5. So what about Episode 6, with Lee Jae’s appearance?

“It might be the same again.”

Seeing his face alone and hearing him play the piano without saying anything—one would think the latter might cause a ratings spike. But when had life ever been that simple? A smooth path in life was rare.

Crunch, crunch.

Even the cherry pie tasted like death today. Swallowing his bitterness, Drama Director Kim Cheol-do opened his phone.

The ratings for Episode 6 should be coming in by now, so there should be a message from PD Kim Young-mo.

“If only Lee Jae’s performance could raise it by another 2%…”

That would make it 15%. How great would that be?

Crunch, crunch.

As he mumbled to himself and nibbled on the cherry pie—

Bang!

PD Kim Young-mo kicked open the door to the drama director’s office. He entered with the presence of a victorious general, his expression as triumphant as a leader just before a successful coup. Kim Cheol-do was so startled by his grand entrance that he was left speechless.

“Director!!! Is this really the time to be sitting here?!”

“What… what is it?”

What intensity. Young-mo, this isn’t like you at all.

Kim Cheol-do was genuinely taken aback. And why was Young-mo wearing a golden bucket hat today?

‘It almost looks like a crown.’

That random thought crossed his mind just as—

“Episode 6!!! The ratings! Seventeen percent!”

The thunderous words from PD Kim Young-mo hit Kim Cheol-do like a lightning bolt to the head, a shockwave from his scalp down to his toes!

Zzzzap.

“Zuha… zuhahaha… zuhahahahahaha…!!!!”

Laughter bubbled up from within him.

Seventeen percent?!

That meant a nearly 3% increase in one leap. As he stood there in shock, grinning like a fool, Kim Young-mo continued quickly.

“The viewer message boards are in an uproar right now!”

“That’s right! They’re saying it’s hilarious that a handsome guy like him can sit there and play the piano without a word, and that just seeing him makes them want to laugh. They’re going nuts! Did you know? I was the one who cast him! That was my decision!”

In the midst of all this, Team Leader Shin Young-sook chimed in. But so what? It was a celebration, and who cared if another spoon joined the party?

“Want me to read you some headlines? High Dream, on a sharp growth trajectory. Other networks are on high alert!”

Zuha.

“Lee Jae’s magic! Does calm classical music work? What will High Dream’s ending be? Much anticipation!”

Zuhaha.

“A one-step retreat for a ten-step advance, the story of High Dream is just beginning. Monday-Tuesday drama domination in sight.”

Zuhahaha.

Kim Cheol-do’s smile seemed like it would never fade.

Now that I look again, Young-mo, that hat really does look like a crown.

Wrapped in happiness, Kim Cheol-do reached for his wallet.

“What’s more expensive than beef? Sashimi? Daegumbari? How about eel? Eel’s good, right? Get the most expensive kind, domestic of course.”

“Eel! Eel sounds great. Our team has been working so hard on the additional shoots for High Dream lately…”

“Absolutely, they deserve it. Hitting it big is no easy feat.”

“Oh, and also…”

“I get it, I get it. How about I pull some strings for a bonus? That’s what really counts for employees, right?”

“That sounds perfect. Hahaha.”

“Zuhahahaha.”

Kim Cheol-do watched with satisfaction as PD Kim Young-mo took the card and left the drama director’s office.

Crunch, crunch.

This time, the cherry pie tasted so sweet that he could die without even noticing.

+++++

At the same time—

Tatatatatata.

As the whole world was bouncing to the rhythm of Lee Jae’s piano performance, one place was quieter than anywhere else, with only the sound of typing filling the air.

Tatatata.

“Phew…”

It was Lee Min-ha’s writing studio.

“Phew… phew…”

He had three monitors—one for writing, one for watching High Dream, and one for tracking the reactions to High Dream.

Glancing among the three screens, Lee Min-ha suppressed his emotions as best as he could.

‘Dong-hoo, or rather, Lee Jae, you really have a knack for driving people crazy.’

Seeing it live had been one thing, but watching it on TV felt entirely different. The sense of immersion and the polished screen presence. Some actors didn’t always look good on camera, but Kim Dong-hoo wasn’t one of them.

He was just endlessly handsome.

And to see someone like him playing the piano with such an anguished face… how could anyone dislike that? With his face alone, people would burst out laughing at whatever he did, and now he was playing the piano?

It could only be described as the pinnacle of classical music.

‘And we haven’t even gotten to La Campanella yet.’

This was just a taste—a mere sampling with a pinky finger. How many people would be cheering when they finally saw the main act?

In his heart, Lee Min-ha wanted to shout from the rooftops. He wanted to brag about writing the debut drama of Kim Dong-hoo.

But—

‘Not yet.’

It wasn’t time for that just yet.

‘Right now, I need to channel this feeling into writing.’

He wanted to write an even better script, inspired by this moment, and send it to Kim Dong-hoo right away.

If it meant creating something even more amazing, he could hold back this joy—

“Aaaah! This is amazing! Kim Dong-hoo, are you kidding me?!”

No, he couldn’t.

And with the news from PD Kim Young-mo that the ratings were at 17%, “lucky charm” was an understatement.

Could it be that the heavens had granted him the chance to become the greatest writer?

Bang!

“Alright, everyone! No more writing for tonight, let’s go celebrate!”

“Yay! Let’s go!”

“What’s the celebration dinner, boss?”

“Of course, it’s beef on a day like this—what else could it be?”

“Yes! Beef is the best!”

Lee Min-ha raised his voice as he led his assistant writers out for the evening.

Ding dong ding dong ding dong.

Well, they tried to head out.

“What the? Who is it at this hour?”

It was nearly midnight. Who would be coming by now? He hadn’t ordered any deliveries.

‘What the hell?’

With an irritated expression, Lee Min-ha walked over to the door, surprised to see an unexpected visitor.

“Su-jeong…?”

Writer Yeo Su-jeong.

She had started her career around the same time as Lee Min-ha. Although she was younger by a year, she was known for her friendly personality.

They kept in touch regularly and had a good relationship, but—

‘But we’re not so close that she’d visit in the middle of the night.’

What brought her here?

‘Might as well open the door.’

Yeo Su-jeong’s face on the intercom screen looked frantic, almost as if she had an emergency.

Thud.

The moment he opened the door, Yeo Su-jeong wrapped her arms around him.

“Unni, please, you have to introduce me.”

“Huh?”

“Please, just give me one chance to meet Kim Dong-hoo.”

In her left hand, she held a script titled The Eclipse.