How a Loan Shark Survives as an Actor Chapter 146

Chapter 146

 

The audition ended without any problems.

The result…

“Then we’ll discuss the schedule with your agency. Don’t forget to take care of your health.”

“Understood, Writer.”

“You worked hard today. I never expected my eyes to be so thoroughly spoiled.”

Writer Koo was smiling from ear to ear.

The corners of her mouth were raised so high they were practically announcing that I’d passed.

Phew.

Finally, It’s over.

It might sound arrogant, but honestly… I’d expected to pass.

The possibility of failing hadn’t even crossed my mind.

And even if I had failed, I wouldn’t have blamed myself.

Why?

‘Because I’ve never worked this hard before.’

I’d put in everything I had.

There wasn’t anything more I could’ve done.

‘If I could’ve done better than this, I’d be a god… not a human.’

If I still failed after all this effort… Then it simply wasn’t my destiny.

Well, it’s not like I believe in fate.

But thinking that way certainly makes life easier.

‘Still, passing feels good.’

More than anything, I liked that I was joining a project that suited my own tastes.

Come to think of it… This was the first time I’d chosen my next project based on what I wanted.

The drama Our Space had already been decided before I entered Yoo Seulho’s body.

The film What I Loved was something I’d done to repay Director Baek for introducing me to Wuyeon Entertainment.

And The Sixth Night? I accepted it simply because they paid well.

‘Of course, this project also reflects the company’s opinion to some extent.’

Even so, if I hadn’t gone to meet Wooju, this audition would’ve never happened.

And if the script hadn’t been so interesting, I wouldn’t have thrown myself into it like this.

‘This feels satisfying somehow.’

Even if I was borrowing Yoo Seulho’s body… This result belonged to me.

That made it all the better.

“I’ll get going now. See you all next time.”

“Ah, Writer.”

I quickly stopped Writer Koo just as she was about to leave without hesitation.

“When will the protagonist’s name be decided? The dog’s name wasn’t written in the script either, so I’ve just been calling him Wooju for now.”

“Oh, you get to decide that.”

“…Excuse me?”

“…You really don’t know anything about me, do you?”

Writer Koo smiled mischievously.

“The actor who plays the lead always chooses the protagonist’s name in my works.”

“Why?”

“Because of a superstition.”

“A superstition?”

“Whenever I chose the protagonist’s name myself, the project somehow flopped. Call it superstition if you want, but after I started leaving it to the actors, things went much better.”

Shrugging her shoulders, she said she’d been doing it that way for almost ten years now.

“Just don’t choose anything too ridiculous. As long as it doesn’t ruin immersion.”

“Understood. I’ll think about it.”

“Let me know once you’ve decided. All right, I’m really leaving now.”

Writer Koo turned away coolly.

She received everyone’s farewell before disappearing into a luxury van.

“Mr. Seulho.”

And as though he’d been waiting for precisely this moment… PD Kim approached me.

“Yes, Director.”

“How old are you again this year?”

The man who’d seemed cowed throughout the meeting suddenly began speaking with an air of superiority.

When I answered that I was twenty-six this year, he cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders.

“Ten years younger than me, huh? Then I’ll just speak casually.”

Rather than intimidating… The sudden change in attitude was almost laughable.

‘Seriously.’

Suppressing a smile, I lowered my head.

“We’re still in pre-production, so it’ll be a while before filming begins. Three months at the earliest.”

“I see.”

“We’ve already hired the action director, so start attending action school next week. We’ll discuss stunt coordination later.”

“Understood. This will be my first time doing action, so I look forward to learning.”

“Ah, don’t worry.”

PD Kim flashed a swaggering grin.

“It won’t be that difficult. It’s easier than you think.”

Are you an actor?

You’ve never done it yourself, so what do you mean “easier than you think”?

It was ridiculous.

But I didn’t let it show.

All I wanted was for this conversation to end as quickly as possible.

‘I’m exhausted.’

I’d spent the entire week doing nothing but preparing for the audition.

I hadn’t properly rested once.

If he’d simply looked at the dark circles under my eyes, you’d think he’d have enough sense to tell me to go home and rest.

“Ah, this is your first drama on this scale, isn’t it?”

Unfortunately, PD Kim’s showing off didn’t seem anywhere near finished.

“Don’t worry too much. If there’s anything you don’t know, just ask me.”

I gave vague responses to his boastful voice.

But inwardly… I was puzzled.

‘This counts as a large-scale production?’

I might not have much practical experience.

But when it came to calculating numbers, no one was faster than me.

Considering everything Team Leader Ahn had told me… This drama, at best, was upper-middle scale.

‘For one thing, they’re not even constructing massive new sets.’

I’d heard productions requiring entirely new sets often spent over a year in pre-production alone.

Well… Considering Yoo Seulho had spent his career playing insignificant roles in small productions, I could understand why PD Kim underestimated me.

‘Still… he’s starting to annoy me.’

Hmm.

I stared silently at the man who never seemed capable of stopping his mouth.

‘Does this project… really have to be directed by PD Kim?’

Surely there were better directors out there.

From the looks of it, he and Writer Koo didn’t even seem to have known each other beforehand.

‘At least three months of preparation…’

I thought for a moment.

Was it really right to consider replacing the director simply because I found him annoying?

‘He’s not someone I can’t handle.’

Just like I’d told Team Leader Ahn before… Someone like this was perfectly manageable.

His overblown ego and subtle attempts to belittle me were irritating.

But nothing more than laughable.

‘You can’t beat people like this with words.’

No matter how logically I argued… The only result would be making him act even more childish.

The only real solution was becoming someone of Writer Koo’s stature.

Normally, with someone like this… The best approach was letting everything go in one ear and out the other.

‘But that’s when you’re short on time.’

There were still three whole months left.

Wasn’t that more than enough time to replace a PD and bring in a new director?

Completely unaware of what I was thinking, he kept rambling.

Then…

‘Ugh.’

A drop of spit flew from PD Kim’s mouth and landed on me.

At that instant… My mood instantly soured.

‘Okay. You’re out.’

I’ll just replace him.

I decided then and there that I needed to meet with Writer Koo as soon as possible.

 

***

 

Woof!

The moment the door opened in the distance… A black blur shot toward me like a bullet.

I planted my feet firmly and waited for the right timing.

“Hup!”

Thanks to that, I caught Wooju the instant he leaped at me.

This time I didn’t fall over like before.

I’d already tightened my core in anticipation.

“Hi.”

Pant, pant.

“For the next six months or more, you’re probably going to see me almost every day. Is that okay?”

Woof!

As if he’d understood me, Wooju barked cheerfully.

His bright eyes sparkled as though I were the only thing reflected inside them.

‘He’s cute.’

I’d met him several times already.

But somehow this felt different.

When I smiled and patted him… He couldn’t keep still and clung to me.

“Hey, you’re heavy. Seriously…”

Beside me, Choo Seomok muttered quietly.

“You’re like a dad.”

“What?”

“You know those videos online where the dad says, ‘If you bring home a dog, I’m throwing it out,’ but once it’s actually there, he ends up loving it the most? That’s exactly what you’re like, Mr. Seulho.”

“Was that supposed to be an insult?”

“A compliment.”

Calling a twenty-six-year-old “like a dad” was a compliment?

It was absurd.

But just then Wooju started panting and asking for more pets, making me miss the chance to argue back.

‘He really is adorable.’

His fur felt unusually soft today beneath my hand.

The way his eyes looked at me… They almost resembled gemstones.

“Wooju! Fetch!”

Pant, pant.

That afternoon, we did some light training together.

The truly astonishing part… was how well we interacted.

‘I still can’t believe it.’

The old me had always believed that no matter how intelligent a dog was… A dog was still just a dog.

If the old me saw this now… He probably wouldn’t believe it even after seeing it with his own eyes.

“Are you a genius? Do you secretly walk on two legs at night?”

Woof!

“You could probably go to college now.”

When I praised him while patting his head… Wooju wagged his tail.

Watching him, I almost felt like he might take flight using it.

Around that point… A question naturally came to mind.

‘How did a dog like this spend years in a shelter?’

He was this smart.

This affectionate.

How was that possible? I desperately wanted to ask.

But I couldn’t.

Everyone thought I was Yoo Seulho, the volunteer who’d faithfully helped at the shelter for years.

If Yoo Seulho didn’t know… Who else would?

“Everyone, time to eat!”

Just then, one of the agency employees came out carrying what looked like a twenty-kilogram bag of dog food.

The moment I saw him struggling with the heavy sack… I was reminded of Hwang Taejun.

That idiot had also tried showing off while carrying a bag around that size… and gotten hit by a car.

‘Well, Taejun was just stupid. But why is this guy…’

My question was answered less than a minute later.

As the employee filled bowl after bowl for all the agency’s animals… That enormous bag of food disappeared in no time.

“…You must have to earn quite a lot just to pay for dog food.”

“Haha!”

The employee laughed.

“Don’t even get me started. Half my salary goes toward buying snacks for these little guys.”

“You buy them with your own money?”

“The company buys treats too, of course. But… when you look at these little guys, you know? You just want to give them everything you possibly can.”

The employee smiled warmly as he watched the dogs enthusiastically empty their bowls.

Seeing the affection in his eyes… I reaffirmed something.

‘Yeah… I could never own a dog.’

Wooju was adorable.

But I wasn’t confident I could love him that much.

‘Owning a dog is something you need to think very carefully about.’

The moment I had that thought… The employee spoke again.

“I just hope these kids never get hurt again. People adopt them so easily… and abandon them just as easily. Even Wooju…”

“Wooju?”

“You already know.”

The employee gave a bittersweet smile.

No. I don’t.

Please tell me.

I was frantically wishing I could ask outright… Fortunately, the employee continued on his own.

“The reason Wooju stayed in the shelter for so long was that he was returned three different times.”

“…”

He explained that Border Collies had one of the highest abandonment rates.

Pretending I already knew, I nodded.

Honestly… I was shocked.

“Why do so many people abandon them?”

“Border Collies are difficult to raise in an ordinary household. They’re so energetic that if they don’t get enough exercise, they’ll destroy your furniture.”

Many people adopted them because they looked cute… Only to realize later they couldn’t handle them and gave them up.

At least some contacted the shelter they’d adopted them from.

But countless others simply dumped them on the roadside.

“It’s a sad reality.”

“There’s something I’m curious about.”

I looked at Wooju, who had already finished his food and was happily eating treats.

“What happens to Wooju after he retires?”

“If one of the employees is in a position to do so, they’ll adopt retired working dogs. But first we always try regular adoption.”

Still… Dogs over ten years old rarely found homes.

Hearing that suddenly made my chest feel heavy.

‘Sigh.’

Great.

Now I’m going to end up worrying about a dog too.

I’d told myself not to get attached.

But I could already see my future.

The moment I’d thought he was cute… My future had practically been decided.

‘But I really can’t adopt him.’

As an actor, there would be times I’d be away from home for days at a time.

How could I properly raise a dog like that?

No matter how hardworking I was… It simply wasn’t realistic.

‘Deal with what’s right in front of me first.’

Thinking that, I discussed the training schedule with the employee.

“Come visit often, even outside training sessions. The more time you spend bonding with him, the better.”

“Understood. Wooju, I’ll come back.”

Unlike last time… Wooju didn’t whine when I told him I’d be back.

‘He really understands me.’

The moment we stepped outside, I said to Choo Seomok,

“Is it really okay to leave him here? No matter how I think about it, that dog’s not meant for acting. We should probably send him to graduate school.”

“Do you have anywhere else to go? Shall we head home?”

Ignoring my comment entirely, Choo Seomok responded matter-of-factly.

I glared at him before nodding.

“Yeah. And ask Team Leader Ahn to arrange a meeting for me.”

The moment I decided to deal with the problem in front of me… Another appointment came to mind.

Now that I’d officially been cast in Writer Koo’s drama… It was time to wrap that matter up as well.

‘Enough testing the waters.’

Dragging it out any longer would start hurting my pride.

“What kind of meeting?”

Looking out through the car window, I answered,

“Tell him to arrange a meeting with the producers of that survival variety show.”

Let’s see who wins, you bastards.