How a Loan Shark Survives as an Actor Chapter 132

Chapter 132

 

“Cut!”

The moment Director Seo called out, I immediately dropped to the ground.

I was already covered head to toe in dirt anyway, so no one was going to complain if I sat on the ground.

“Are you alright?”

Choo Seomok hurried over and draped a blanket over me.

I didn’t even have the strength to answer, so I simply nodded.

‘I’m exhausted.’

Man, what would’ve happened if Director Seo had insisted on filming the remaining scenes on location too?

‘I was prepared, and it’s still this bad.’

Since last night, we’d been filming scenes of me running like a madman through the mountains.

While everyone else was bundled up in padded jackets, I’d spent hours running around in nothing but a T-shirt and shorts.

My whole body ached.

‘This isn’t easy.’

I clutched the herbal tonic Seomok handed me like a lifeline and drank it down.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Director Seo fidgeting nervously while watching me.

He asked if I was alright, and I forced a smile before answering.

‘Well, what’s done is done.’

It would’ve been nice if we could’ve filmed during the warmer daytime.

But the scene we were shooting now was the movie’s climax.

To make the audience feel the same hopelessness… as though dawn would never come… it absolutely had to be filmed in the dead of night.

‘At least we don’t have to worry about visible breath.’

The days of using ice to suppress your breath were long gone.

Director Seo had told me not to worry about goosebumps or visible breath from the cold; they’d erase them with CGI.

‘It’s strange that I’m having fun even though it’s this hard…’

How weird.

“Whew…”

I’d been running around like crazy, so despite the freezing weather, I was drenched in sweat.

If we kept filming in this state, I’d definitely catch a cold, so we decided to take a short break.

“Seomok, my ice pack.”

“Yes.”

I placed the ice pack Seomok handed me over my eyes.

I’d spent over an hour crying while running around, and my eyes were just about ready to swell.

‘Better get the swelling down before it starts.’

After fleeing into the mountains, Junho wandered around in utter terror.

No matter how far he ran, no path appeared before him.

His breathing only became more ragged.

‘Huff… huff…‘

Starting with Seorae’s sudden death…

Ajin’s horrifying smile…

The mysterious being that dragged Seungmin away…

The whole situation felt utterly unreal.

Yet the dirt clinging to his body from all the times he’d fallen, along with the stinging pain from his wounds, felt painfully real.

That only drove him deeper into panic.

‘…Hrk.’

There was no one beside Junho anymore.

Everyone who had come here with him was either dead or had become something else.

He no longer had any reason to pretend he was okay.

‘Sob… hic…‘

At some point, Junho simply broke down and cried like a child.

The man who had calmly led the group through every crisis no longer existed.

Now, anyone looking at him would see someone whose mind had completely shattered… a man who could do nothing but sob, barely able to breathe.

‘He’s completely different from how he was at the beginning of the movie.’

I’d even argued with Director Seo to make sure that the contrast came across properly.

“Mr. Seulho, I think the tension’s a little lacking. I think your breathing should be quicker.”

“…? Nothing’s happened yet.”

Early in filming, Director Seo had asked me to breathe more heavily.

He intended to make even the audience feel anxious.

I disagreed.

‘But there’s no reason for him to be out of breath yet.’

He hadn’t run through the mountains.

None of his companions had disappeared yet.

Junho wasn’t the type to start panting just because he felt vaguely uneasy.

Normally, I didn’t want to clash with Director Seo.

But this was one point I couldn’t compromise on.

When I firmly stood my ground, he eventually backed down.

‘I really didn’t want to do it.’

I didn’t want to repeat the frustrating clichés I’d always hated in horror movies.

The protagonist acting overly paranoid before anything had even happened…

Watching actors panting nervously while chopping up all their dialogue because they were supposedly terrified had always frustrated me as a viewer.

‘Seriously, you’re just standing on a road. Why are you panting like a dog?’

Of course, it wasn’t because the actors were bad.

They were simply following the director’s instructions.

‘But it’s the actors who get criticized.’

As used to criticism as I was, I still didn’t want to get flamed over something like that.

There were other parts of the filming process where I’d stepped in as well.

“Director, what if we toned down Seungmin’s stuttering a little?”

Perhaps to emphasize how timid he was, Seungmin had far more stammering lines than anyone else.

Of course, everyone speaks differently.

And in real life, you often meet people who stutter for no particular reason.

You don’t have to be frightened to stutter.

The problem was that the actor was portraying it far too heavily.

“Right now, Seungmin feels too much like a ‘character.’ I think it’d be better if he came across more naturally.”

I’d quietly called Director Seo and the actor playing Seungmin aside before bringing it up.

To be honest, I felt a little guilty.

After all, it had nothing to do with me playing Junho.

“But horror movies need frustrating characters. The audience needs someone to get mad at.”

Fortunately, Director Seo didn’t take offense.

He calmly explained his reasoning.

I understood what he meant.

But that wasn’t my point.

‘It’s fine if he’s just frustrating.’

The problem wasn’t that Seungmin was frustrating.

It was as if he looked like he was pretending to be scared.

There’s a clear difference between a character who’s frustrating because he’s terrified… and one who’s simply overacting.

“I think it’d be better if we built it up gradually. If we’re panicking before the audience has any reason to be scared, they’ll just laugh.”

Trying too hard to frighten the audience could easily end up killing the tension instead.

Fortunately, I managed to explain things carefully enough that neither Director Seo nor the actor playing Seungmin took it personally.

The changes were made without any real conflict.

As a result, the entire cast stopped feeling exaggerated.

They looked like an ordinary group of college students you’d see anywhere.

Which made the collapse of their everyday lives feel all the more real.

And within that character dynamic, Junho stood out the most.

A strong man who barely reacted even to things that would terrify most people.

When someone like that lost everything… and finally broke down, sobbing like a child… What would the audience feel?

‘I want to know.’

We hadn’t even finished filming yet, but I already wanted to watch the completed movie.

The past two days had been rough.

But thinking of it as all being for the finale gave me fresh energy.

“Hyung.”

I was stretching before the next take when Director Seo approached.

Maybe because no one else was around, he addressed me more casually.

“When Junho runs into Ajin in the mountains… the scene where he wets himself… are you really going to do it?”

“Why? You don’t like it?”

“No! I love it! When you suggested it yesterday, Hyung, I could picture the whole scene immediately.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Seeing my puzzled expression, Director Seo scratched his head.

“I mean… if it were a rookie actor, maybe. But actors who are already somewhat famous, like you… They usually don’t do things like that. They worry it’ll ruin their image.”

“So what? It’s not like I’m actually doing it.”

“I just think it’s amazing.”

Director Seo hesitated before suddenly thanking me.

“Out of nowhere?”

“I wanted to say it before filming ended.”

“If it weren’t for you, this would’ve turned into a completely different movie.”

Director Seo wore an expression I’d never seen before.

“Honestly… whenever the other actors asked questions, there were times when I had no idea how to answer them.”

“But every single time, you’d naturally step in and help me.”

“Even if I wasn’t here, you’d have figured it out yourself.”

“No.”

“The other day, when someone asked how to act nervous, you immediately corrected his walking posture.”

Well…

‘Whenever there were hopeless recruits in the army, the first thing that always looked awkward was the way they walked.’

I’d told the actor to try walking like one of those guys.

Only for him to reply,

“Huh? I’ve never served in the military.”

So I’d ended up demonstrating it myself.

“I’ve never met an actor who thought about the movie as sincerely as you do.”

“You never try to stand out. You quietly work behind the scenes.”

“It really feels like you respect me…”

Director Seo’s voice had become noticeably emotional.

He sounded so sincere that it actually caught me off guard.

‘Does he seriously not realize I’m manipulating him?’

And besides…

Where was all this suddenly coming from?

The rude little brat I’d first met had changed so much that it really was moving.

But if he wanted to say something like this, he could’ve waited until after filming over drinks or something.

Instead, he interrupted my break and started pouring everything out at once.

‘There’s really no middle ground with this guy.’

He even started tearing up because of his own speech.

He looked like a complete kid.

I finally managed to calm him down and send him away.

‘Seriously…’

I was shaking my head in disbelief when…

“You’re becoming more and more popular.”

Seomok suddenly appeared beside me.

“Yeah. Guess I am.”

I wondered how long he’d been standing there.

I was a little startled, but answered casually.

Seomok smiled faintly before taking the now-cold tea from my hand and replacing it with a warm one.

“…You’re not exactly one to talk.”

“Hm?”

“The way you act around me, as if you owe me your life. No wonder everyone else starts acting that way too.”

Sometimes Seomok really went overboard.

Of course, what celebrity would dislike a manager who took such good care of them?

‘But he wasn’t like this at first.’

When we first met, he was just a polite robot.

Sometimes kind…

But always a little cold.

Yet at some point, he’d started treating me with almost excessive obedience.

Obedience…

That wasn’t quite the right word.

But he definitely became strangely compliant.

‘Doesn’t it hurt his pride?’

He’d said he was more comfortable speaking politely, so I’d let him.

But as far as the world knew, Yoo Seulho and Choo Seomok were the same age.

Our real age difference was ten years, so I occasionally called him a disrespectful brat.

Yet from anyone else’s perspective, he accommodated me far more than necessary.

“If you’ve got something you want, just say it. Don’t stab me in the back later.”

I threw the remark out because I wondered if he might secretly have ulterior motives.

Seomok merely smiled.

“I’m satisfied with how things are now.”

“That’s why I try my best.”

“So just make sure this life can continue.”

In other words…

Don’t get caught up in any ridiculous scandals.

And don’t replace him with some other weirdo.

That didn’t sound entirely submissive.

“Fine.”

“Then let’s keep benefiting each other.”

“Understood.”

“Still not going to speak casually to me?”

Instead of answering, Seomok simply shrugged.

‘What a boring guy.’

I didn’t have time to worry about him any longer, so I hurriedly stretched.

From somewhere behind me, I thought I heard him mutter,

“Who speaks casually to their superior?”

But it was so quiet that I ignored it.

 

***

 

“…Ha.”

I sat blankly behind a tree, recalling an old memory.

Back then, my friends and I had once talked about this.

“What would you do if you ran into a ghost?”

Everyone had answered differently.

Since every one of them was stubborn to the core, there were all kinds of ridiculous replies.

“I’ve always wanted to fight a ghost.”

“If it’s a girl ghost, I’d flirt with her.”

I’d laughed and called them all crazy.

But honestly…

I’d thought something similar.

‘How scary could a ghost really be?’

Now I wanted to beat up my past self for laughing.

I still didn’t know whether what I was dealing with was actually a ghost or something else.

But the Hyewoo and Ajin I’d seen…

They definitely weren’t the people I’d known.

The same went for Seungmin, who had suddenly been flung through the air.

There was simply no explanation other than ghosts.

‘What can I even do here?’

Now that I was actually trapped in this situation…

There was nothing I could do.

Normally, in ghost movies, if you hid under a blanket long enough, morning would eventually come.

But…

‘It feels like it’ll be night forever.’

Whatever I was facing wasn’t that kind of thing.

It had no intention of waiting for dawn.

It wanted nothing more than to slaughter every last one of us.

‘If it at least had a physical form, I could fight it.’

Being completely powerless against something beyond human ability filled me with an overwhelming sense of helplessness.

‘Where… am I?’

I’d fled blindly into the mountains to escape Ajin.

But after hearing that horrifying scream echo through the forest earlier, my mind had completely fallen apart.

Forcing myself to stand, I decided I had to get down the mountain somehow.

SKREEEEEEEEE—AAAHHHH!!

Just then, the monstrous shriek echoed across the mountains once again, and my body instinctively shrank back.

‘Ha…’

I was on the verge of giving up completely.

Then…

Something suddenly filled my vision.

I couldn’t tell whether it was real or just another hallucination.

But dozens…

No…

Countless Ajins stood surrounding me.

Every single one of them was smiling.

“……”

I didn’t even realize I’d wet myself until I felt the dampness around my feet.

There wasn’t even room to feel humiliation or shame.

The terror consuming me was far too overwhelming.

Unable even to blink, I stood there trembling.

And then…

The dozens of Ajins rushed toward me all at once.