GalaxyTL
"Ugh, this cold... feels like my toes are going to freeze off."
As soon as Joo Seonghwan, playing the role of Beomho, delivered the opening line of the shoot:
"It’s time to begin."
"I will restore justice to this land!"
The actors dove into their roles, as if they had been waiting for this moment.
In the biting cold of winter,
the commoners band together, armed and determined.
They rise as rebels, resolved to uproot the corruption of this land.
Having been exploited day after day just to scrape by,
their oppressors grew fat and complacent from the spoils of their suffering.
How could they not be enraged?
Step, step.
To gather more strength and sow greater chaos from the bottom up,
the angry mob marched south toward Jeonnam.
Unable to take the main roads,
they moved along narrow mountain paths.
As they trudged forward on the only available trail:
"...A swarm of maggots reeking of decay."
A boy appeared from the opposite direction, his words making them halt.
Keiiing.
The camera widened its frame to capture the scene.
Over a hundred furious commoners stood clutching their tools-turned-weapons,
while the boy, dressed in simple attire, spoke calmly.
He wore a stark white dopo (a traditional Korean overcoat), evocative of the icy winter.
He carried a sharp sword and even had a bow slung across his back, as if he had been out hunting.
Though his attire wasn’t suited for hunting,
the weapons alone suggested his purpose.
"...I have no intention of harming children. Stand aside."
Beomho, the leader of the group, wasn’t particularly concerned about the boy’s armament.
He had far too many pressing matters ahead to waste time.
"The insolence of the lower class is unpleasant.
I see your youth blinds you to reason."
Beomho drew his blade for intimidation.
Though it was originally the knife of a butcher used for slaughtering livestock—
Shwing.
—it had now become the weapon of a rebel, poised to pierce the heavens.
"I’ll say it again: stand aside."
The path was narrow, the only flat section on a steep incline.
There was no way to move forward unless one of them yielded.
There was no option to climb higher or descend lower.
"Surely, you can grasp that much reason."
The options were simple: retreat and flee,
or approach and fight.
Naturally, most would choose the former.
Beomho believed the boy before him would do the same.
"I’d heard rumors of lowly scum gathering to plot something,
but I didn’t expect it to be this serious."
At the boy’s words, Lee Taeseong, the crowd hesitated.
Despite the overwhelming odds against him,
his demeanor remained unshaken.
The way he instinctively gripped his sword exuded readiness.
It was an unmistakable stance for battle.
"One brat threatens to kill, and the rest scatter like cockroaches.
Why do you coddle a child who’s merely eaten a few sweets?"
Taeseong’s composed words revealed he had completely read the situation.
And as if waiting for this moment:
"That’s him! That’s the one! That’s the madman from Gongju!"
A minor character stepped out from behind Beomho, pointing a finger at Lee Taeseong.
The madman of Gongju.
At those words, Beomho looked back at Taeseong.
The name was familiar.
Though Gongju was still far off on their journey,
he had vaguely heard of this figure.
To think he would encounter him here.
A name that must be killed.
As this thought crossed Beomho’s mind:
Thunk!
Before anyone could react, an arrow flew—
"Gahh!"
—and lodged itself directly in the chest of the minor character who had pointed at Taeseong.
Of course, the arrow wasn’t actually fired.
For safety, the shot was a combination of a camera cut and special effects.
But in the story, the arrow had been fired.
Beomho, or rather Joo Seonghwan, unconsciously followed the path of the arrow with his gaze.
It led to a tree, where the arrow had embedded itself precisely in the center.
In that moment, a past conversation replayed in his mind:
Honestly, he thought it had been an exaggeration,
just empty praise for a favored actor.
But it wasn’t.
Is this guy... really an actor?
Kim Donghu, fully immersed in the role of Lee Taeseong, exuded pure terror.
It was as if the drawn bowstring signaled the start of war.
The sword-wielding Taeseong began to advance, slowly and deliberately.
Gulp.
Even though he held a prop sword,
it looked like a blade capable of cutting down dozens with ease.
Despite having over a hundred allies behind him,
Beomho could only envision a future where they wouldn’t stand a chance against this one man.
"I had hoped to savor this slowly,
but you’ve ruined my mood."
No matter how lowly they were, some lines simply could not be crossed.
With those words, Lee Taeseong suddenly charged forward.
It looked like a frenzied lunge driven by instinct,
but there was meticulous calculation behind his every move.
The narrow path could barely fit three people side by side.
In such a space, a fight?
It didn’t matter how many people were present.
Only one-on-one combat was possible.
In such scenarios, the larger group was at a disadvantage.
A crowd was inherently slow to act.
"Thanks to you scum, I’ve lost my sweets and my firewood.
I suppose someone will have to pay the price."
Swish!
The chilling sound of a blade cutting through the air marked the beginning of carnage.
No matter how angry the mob was,
their experience with fighting amounted to little more than scuffles.
And now, amidst the crowd,
a beast sent from the heavens descended, wielding a blade.
"AAAAAAHHH!"
"Spare me! My arm, my arm!!!"
It was a wolf among a flock of sheep.
"Scatter! The mountain isn’t steep—head downhill! Retreat!"
Beomho quickly recognized the reality of the situation and ordered a retreat.
It was absurd to have his entire group scattered by just one man,
but he had no other choice.
"You! Stop preying on the weak and face me!"
Desperation filled Beomho’s voice as he chased after Lee Taeseong, demanding a direct confrontation.
But Taeseong ignored him, instead systematically cutting down those around him.
Using his long blade, Taeseong slashed his way through the mob, maintaining a calculated distance.
He deliberately avoided fighting the strongest, preserving his stamina to the very last second.
The way Taeseong wielded his sword made it seem alive.
His movements were so intricate and precise that even the minor actors were drawn into an uncanny sense of dread.
“Am I... really going to die here?”
They were terrified.
That merciless expression—
the way he seemed to smile faintly as he cut people down—
it sent shivers through their spines.
And even as he moved so dynamically,
his pristine white dopo remained unstained by even a drop of fake blood,
becoming an emblem of terror seared into their minds.
It wasn’t a group battle—it was a massacre.
"To possess such incredible martial skills... yet waste them in this manner!"
Just as Lee Taeseong was about to decapitate another commoner,
Beomho’s words made him pause.
Taeseong stopped mid-strike and silently observed Beomho.
For about three seconds,
the wind rustled his dopo, creating an eerie stillness.
"Martial skills, you say. I even demonstrated my Bonguk-geom (traditional Korean swordsmanship)...
And yet, that’s the best you can describe it?"
Taeseong’s voice carried a tone of disappointment.
Swish!
Without hesitation, he finished the strike, decapitating the commoner.
The camera captured the entire scene.
No one knew where the fleeing mob had gone,
and those who hadn’t managed to escape were all dead.
Over a hundred people vanished in what felt like an instant.
The absurd brevity of the slaughter left an emptiness in its wake.
Taeseong turned to Beomho, sneering, and repeated his earlier words.
"Stand aside."
Same line, same situation, different person.
Only the characters had changed.
"...I won’t forget this day."
But the outcome was entirely different.
Faced with the worst-case scenario, Beomho had no choice but to flee.
He hurled himself down the slope, making a desperate escape.
Watching this, Taeseong commented:
"How utterly pathetic."
He stared down the fleeing figure and loosed a volley of arrows.
Thud!
The sound of an arrow striking its mark echoed behind him,
but Taeseong didn’t look back.
Instead, he resumed walking,
his path now completely unobstructed.
"Cut! Cut! Cut!"
The director’s booming voice signaled the end of the scene, echoing across the set.
"What... what did I just witness?"
"Didn’t he train in swordsmanship or something?"
"Now I understand why the stunt director praised him so much and said there was nothing left to teach."
The crew exchanged their thoughts, showering Kim Donghu with praise.
His movements, though part of his performance, felt far too real to be acting.
No matter how many times they watched, they couldn’t help but marvel.
In truth, the person most shocked by the scene was the director.
“It’s... too perfect.”
He had always dreamed of an ideal Lee Taeseong like this.
And now, the Lee Taeseong he had imagined had stepped out of his head and was wielding a sword in front of him.
But it was then that Director Yoon Seongbin realized a problem.
“Isn’t this... too cool?”
Strictly speaking, Lee Taeseong was the villain.
He was the seed of corruption, the evil that the commoners were destined to destroy.
But here he was, shining brilliantly and stealing the show.
So much so that the audience might start rooting for the wrong side.
“I intentionally included plenty of scenes of him committing atrocities...”
Yet, even that felt insufficient.
“If people end up cheering for Lee Taeseong—or rather, Kim Donghu—it’ll be a problem.”
A character meant to be a target of righteous punishment garnering public support?
And all because of a single actor’s performance?
“That couldn’t possibly happen.”
Yoon Seongbin shook his head.
It was an absurdly far-fetched idea.
Mid-December
Incoming messages:
Kim Donghu, you’re spending Christmas with me this year, right?
< I can’t, I have a schedule.
Kim Donghu, are you insane?! You actually scheduled something on Christmas?!
< Sorry, I have a shoot that day.
Hmph! Fine!
As Christmas drew closer, the invitations started rolling in.
Donghu, how about we have dinner on Christmas Day?
You can bring your family too, and my grandma can join!
< I can’t, I have a schedule that day.
Oh... okay.
< Sorry.
One by one, he had to decline, each time feeling guilty.
Donghu-yah, how about we skip Korean food and have something Western for Christmas?
I could roast a chicken for you! Or fry it if you prefer!
< Ah, I won’t be home that day.
? Why?
< I have a schedule.
;;
< Sorry.
Amid all the apologies,
Ding!
An unexpected notification arrived.
"What?"
The message read:
-[Ryu Jaerin, attacked by stalker, sustains injuries, future activities uncertain]-
The content caught him completely off guard.
A stalker? What stalker?
The moment he thought that, it clicked.
“Ah, right.”
It was that incident—a case that had once shaken South Korea.
The tragedy that became the biggest obstacle to Ryu Jaerin’s success.
“That happened this year?”
This was something he absolutely had to prevent.