Gentle Visual Acting Genius Chapter 11 - Gentle Visual Cursing Genius

#Gentle Visual Cursing Genius 

 

The meal was perfect.

 

Honestly, it might’ve been the best thing Woohyun had ever eaten, even counting his past life.

 

Thick, juicy ddeokgalbi grilled to perfection.

 

Crisp, refreshing geotjeori that cut through the grease just right, and crunchy whole-shelled shrimp tempura in perfect bite-sized pieces that acted like little flavor bombs.

 

But the real stars were the cheonggukjang and sesame oil grilled tofu.

 

The vegetable broth met the deep, funky flavor of the fermented soybean stew, and the grilled tofu, golden and nutty, sealed the deal.

 

When he mixed the stew with warm white rice, scooping in crumbling tofu and fluffy grains into a single bite. ‘This,’ he thought, ‘this is what real food tastes like.’

 

‘Right? This is why I kept coming here even in my past life. If only Grandma had been healthier and lived a bit longer… Still, I’ve got another chance in this life, don’t I?’

 

The other actors and staff were just as impressed. Director Jang Hangyeol even went back for three bowls of rice with the stew.

 

Still licking his lips like he hadn’t quite had enough, the director glanced at Woohyun with sparkling eyes.

 

His visuals screamed hip Seoulite who probably haunted curated shops and coffee bars in Seongsu-dong or Hannam-dong, but here he was, someone who appreciated good, savory food.

 

It was the kind of praise-worthy place even a seasoned field veteran like Jang Hangyeol would consider one of the best.

 

“Whoa! Seriously, Woohyun, how do you even know spots like this? Are you sure you’re only twenty-two?”

 

“I’m serious about home-cooked Korean food.  You would be shocked if you saw my full restaurant list.”

 

“If we keep eating like this, we won’t even need catering trucks anymore! Honestly, I might cast you in the next project just for your great restaurant.” 

 

The others chuckled at the director’s half-joking comment as they stood up, rubbing their full bellies and heading out.

 

While the assistant director handled the bill with the company card, Woohyun loitered near the kitchen, peeking in a little.

 

That’s when he heard it.

 

“How can a grown man look so soft and fluffy?”

 

A gentle voice approached him.

 

When Woohyun turned around, he was met with a warm, crinkled gaze and a voice that carried the weight of years.

 

He bowed politely, reaching out to take the slightly damp hand of the old woman.

 

Her wrinkled, work-worn hand still seemed to carry the scent of freshly grilled tofu and sesame oil.

 

“It was amazing, ma’am. I really enjoyed the meal.”

 

“Did you really eat a lot? You’re so skinny, maybe I should’ve given you a few more side dishes.”

 

She sounded like a grandma fussing over a visiting grandson, and it wasn’t just because Woohyun was good-looking. Even in his past life, when he had been huge and rough-looking, she had said the same thing and brought him more food without hesitation.

 

“Oh, I had so many refills. I’ll definitely come again. Please stay healthy until then!”

 

After exchanging goodbyes, the grandmother disappeared back into the kitchen to prepare food for other customers.

 

The one seeing them off was the grandmother’s son, the owner, who had been manning the register.

 

As everyone climbed into their vans, Woohyun waited for a moment when it was just the two of them.

 

Now was the time.

 

‘Okay, let’s talk now.’

 

“Excuse me, sir.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“This might sound a bit strange, but…”

 

Woohyun leaned in, his voice quiet and sincere. The owner listened with a puzzled expression, glanced once more at Woohyun’s face, and finally nodded.

 

Woohyun didn’t say anything else. He just gave a polite nod and got into the van.

 

Vroooom.

 

The <Fanatic> team drove away, leaving the restaurant behind.

 

“He doesn’t seem like the type to lie, though.”

 

Watching the van disappear down the road, the owner absentmindedly fiddled with his fingers, replaying Woohyun’s words in his mind.

 

“This might just be me sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong, and I know it might sound ridiculous, even kind of offensive, but… would you consider getting your mother a check-up sometime soon?”

 

“A check-up?”

 

“Yeah. I knew someone once who got diagnosed with cancer pretty late. When it was first discovered, their hands were swollen and had little lumps between the fingers, just like your mom’s hands. I really hope I’m wrong. I debated saying anything, but I just… I want her to be healthy and live a long life. It can’t hurt to get checked, right?”

 

“Ah… yes…”

 

It was a complete lie.

 

There was no cancer patient acquaintance, no story about mysterious hand lumps, but the owner wouldn’t know that. He wasn’t a doctor either.

 

What mattered now was whether or not he believed it.

 

And slowly, he found himself leaning toward belief.

 

Even if this was some scam, the guy had not tried to sell him anything, had not some cult nonsense.

 

He was a rising actor whose face was plastered all over the country. Why would someone like that risk it just to spout bad omens?

 

‘He was dead serious when he said it. No smirks, no jokes. Just worry in his eyes.’

 

The owner nodded to himself.

 

‘Well… what do I have to lose?’

 

He stepped back into the restaurant and called toward the kitchen where his mother was clattering around with dishes.

 

“Mom, let’s go get a health checkup on our day off next week. It’s about time, right?”

 

And with that, a tiny seed of a miracle began to sprout.

 

**

 

The first filming for <Fanatic> had kicked off smoothly in Jecheon, with good food and good vibes.

 

Woohyun goes back and forth between Jecheon and Seoul for shoots filming <Fanatic> while working on his busy schedule.

 

Time passed so quickly, he even had to bleach his roots twice after his fully bleached hair started growing out.

 

Soon, they were two days away from shooting the first real face-off scene between Woohyun’s character, the Saint, and Hong Jiwoo’s character, Detective Jooho.

 

Thanks to the rainy season, Woohyun found himself with a rare moment of free time.

 

He was enjoying a cold beer and the view of the darkened summer street when his phone suddenly lit up with an unexpected name.

 

[Hong Jiwoo]

 

“Huh? Why are you calling all of a sudden?”

 

They talked all the time on set, and messaged constantly in the group chat with Min Sooah after wrap, but this was the first time he had received a direct call like this.

 

That had to mean something.

 

Woohyun, well aware of how rare it was for people their age to actually call someone, picked up immediately and switched to speaker.

 

[Uhhh… Can I talk right now?]

 

“Yeah. What’s up?”

 

[So, um, don’t take this the wrong way, okay?]

 

“…?”

 

[Do you, uh… curse? Like, are you any good at swearing?]

 

“What?”

 

A sheepish cough echoed through the phone. Jiwoo’s voice dropped, cautious.

 

[It’s about that scene we’re filming together in two days. I’ve got to swear in, like, every line, and it just doesn’t sound right. It doesn’t click. And I didn’t really know who else to ask…]

 

“Ah.”

 

As soon as he heard that, Woohyun chuckled softly, nodding in understanding.

 

He had been there.

 

He knew exactly how Jiwoo felt.

 

Especially since Jiwoo’s character was thirty-two, while Jiwoo himself was twenty-two, it wasn’t easy getting that weight and properly conveying the feeling.

 

‘Cursing isn’t always natural when you just spit it out.’

 

Woohyun instantly understood and grasped Hong Jiwoo’s worries.

 

The fact that Jiwoo had swallowed his pride and called him up? That meant he made the right call.

 

“Text me your location. Come over. I’ll show you how it’s really done.”

 

[Really? Right now?]

 

“Yup~”

 

A midsummer night with rain falling steadily. It was the moment when the first lecture of the real villain genius who had reached the peak of his villain acting in his previous life was held.

 

Thirty minutes later, Hong Jiwoo arrived in a taxi, becoming the first person outside of Ma Junseok and staff to ever step into Woohyun’s humble studio apartment.

 

He took a quick glance around the small ten-pyeong space, half out of curiosity about how such a pretty, soft-looking actor lived, but there was no time to dawdle. They got straight to business.

 

In fact, from Hong Jiwoo’s perspective, he came because Woo-hyun told her to come coolly, but he was also a little skeptical.

 

‘I mean… Can this guy really swear better than me? Sure, his audition was impressive, but he doesn’t look like a guy who curses.’

 

A face like soft tofu that wouldn’t even show irritation, let alone swear. Woohyun had the face of someone who probably said “darn” instead of “damn.”

 

Even the character he’s playing now is a ‘saint’ with an extremely noble speech style. That’s why Hong Jiwoo had never seen Woohyun swear even once, so he had no idea how he would teach him how to swear.

 

However, those worries and doubts disappeared in an instant in just ten minutes.

 

“Alright. Let’s start with f*ck.”

 

The tofu-faced actor was, in fact, a cursing genius.

 

“Okay, so in this scene, you’re dealing with the Guryong gang to get a fake identity to infiltrate the church, right? You’re the one with power here, you’re fed up, annoyed. That emotion? It needs to come through in every curse. So instead of just saying ‘f*ck,’ think of it like laughing into it. Fu—ck. See how the ‘ck’ fades at the end?”

 

“O-oh… okay.”

 

“What are you doing? I told you to follow me.”

 

“Fu…uuck!”

 

“No, no! Don’t stop between syllables like that. It’s not fu—ck, it’s fuhhck. Like it’s rolling out of your throat. Say it with the line.”

 

“Got it. Okay—fuuhck…! Hey, you little—”

 

“There you go! Now it’s got some flavor.”

 

Woohyun made swearing sound like an art form.

 

Had there always been this many ways to say the F-word?

 

Could anyone else in the world break down a single curse word syllable by syllable like that, with perfectly timed breaths and tonal shifts?

 

Was swearing… an actual academic discipline?

 

Watching Woohyun explain how to curse effectively, how to convert it properly, with the passion of a scholar defending his thesis, Jiwoo found himself reminded, absurdly, of his old acting professor from before taking a leave of absence.

 

And that wasn’t even the most shocking part.

 

The real jaw-dropper was Woohyun’s delivery, how naturally he slipped into each line, spewing profanities like it was second nature.

 

Jiwoo had assumed it would look weird, out of place, coming from someone with a face that belonged on tofu packaging.

 

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

 

Woohyun’s performance was so natural, so seamless, it left no room for doubt. He didn’t just act, he became the role. He pulled off Jiwoo’s own character, Jooho, better than Jiwoo himself.

 

‘If I don’t get this down properly and make it fully mine… he’s going to run circles around me.’

 

Was this what people meant when they said genius?

 

Rather than envy, Jiwoo felt awe. And he funneled that awe into determination, into ambition.

 

Snapping out of his daze, Jiwoo flipped through the script and pointed to the next scene.

 

“What if I try this line a bit differently? It’s the part where I really go head-to-head with the saint who won’t listen to reason. I was thinking… spit the words out like I’m chewing glass.”

 

“Oh? Sounds like someone’s getting the hang of it. You’re right, this scene’s a switch-up from the last one. Instead of fuuuck, it should feel more like fuCKING-hell, real sharp and guttural. Or even a drawn-out shhhit would work.”

 

“Shhit… shiiit… hmm…”

 

In that cramped little ten-pyeong studio apartment, two twenty-two-year-old actors sat shoulder to shoulder, passing a single script between them as they whispered profanities like chants, rehearsing their lines like sacred verses.

 

And that surreal, absurdly earnest scene continued—until the clock struck five in the morning.