“Is he an actor?”
That thought crossed my mind for a moment.
It was because the person reflected in the elevator’s metallic surface was strikingly handsome.
No, that was part of it, but more than that, there was something extraordinary about the aura this person exuded.
“…?”
But why does it feel like he’s glaring at me?
“Is it just because his eyes look sharp?”
Using the mirror-like finish in front of him, Rowoon cautiously studied the other person.
Even Rowoon, who prided himself on having seen all kinds of dazzling faces during his time as an idol, found this man’s looks surprisingly impressive.
Maybe it was because of his prominent features, but something about his sharp eyes and firmly pressed, smooth lips exuded a commanding air.
It could also be because his gaze was from a higher vantage point.
Wow… just how tall is he?
Though it was smaller than the original body’s height—which had been in the mid-180s (centimeters)—the new body was still on the taller side. Yet this person seemed to be nearly a hand’s breadth taller than Rowoon’s original self.
What was even more astonishing was his physique.
Is he similar to Hobeom? Or maybe even better?
Back in Garion, their youngest member, Cha Hobeom, had been the tallest in the group despite being the youngest.
He was well-built, so he often heard people say he looked like a tiger, matching his name “Hobeom” (“tiger”). With that sleek, predatory vibe, even the same dance moves looked different when he performed them.
When is this body going to improve, anyway?
Now that he thought about it, his new body was truly the worst. He had practically no basic stamina; moving around even a little made him gasp for breath, and he was so thin that he looked like a bundle of sticks.
In that case, why on earth had the original owner of this body installed a fancy, lavish training room at home?
“Well, I have been putting it to good use, though.”
A healthy mind lives in a healthy body. Many people think that concentration is a matter of mental fortitude, but in reality, it’s a battle of physical stamina.
In his previous life as well, Rowoon had always tried to stay in shape by exercising whenever he wasn’t busy working. He had no money, so all he could do was hike up and down the mountain behind his neighborhood, but still.
Well… at least I hauled plenty of water for prayer that way.
Thanks to that shiny training room, he’d turned this body—which felt practically like a walking corpse—into something a bit more human.
Rowoon stealthily patted his forearm, which was just starting to show a hint of muscle.
Unfortunately, it seemed this body had a hard time building muscle…
“…?”
Was he imagining it? It felt like their eyes met again.
Maybe he looked like a weirdo just standing there suddenly massaging his bicep.
What’s this? Is he really glaring at me? Do I know him? Ah, why does he look so familiar?
A face that handsome is hard to forget. All the more reason it was bothering Rowoon so much, trying to recall where he had seen it before.
Besides, the fact that they kept locking eyes suggested there was definitely something there…
“Uh, excuse me…”
Rowoon cautiously tried to speak up—
“Ah. So you’re not ignoring me entirely, then?”
“…Sorry?”
The other man actually started talking to him like he knew him.
While Rowoon’s brain momentarily froze, the man turned fully toward him.
Now Rowoon saw him face-to-face, not as a reflection, and only then did it click why he looked so familiar.
“Kang Chaheon?”
“Aha. So you’ve decided to go all out, huh?”
That dangerously good-looking face twisted into a menacing smile.
No matter how you looked at it, it was anything but friendly.
Rowoon thought to himself:
Hold on. Nobody told me the ‘rehabilitation’ difficulty level would be this high!
He had a good reason to find that face familiar.
Kang Chaheon.
If someone asked who is the most well-known actor in Korea right now, it might very well be him. With a striking appearance and undeniable acting prowess, he was an actor whose talents no one could deny.
He was also famously courted by a certain Hollywood director who practically begged him multiple times to join a project—an offer he eventually accepted. That film became a massive hit, remaining solidly in the top three at the box office even now.
– “We need to hide Kang Chaheon’s passport!”
– “We refuse to let our national treasure leak abroad—protest!”
– “We should brand ‘Made in Korea’ on his foot. Damn, they’re trying to stake a claim on our guy from every angle!”
Having a Korean actor land a leading role in Hollywood and hit it big is certainly no easy feat. Everyone assumed Kang Chaheon would put down roots in Hollywood. But, contrary to expectations, he returned to Korea and continued to work on domestic films. This only boosted his reputation and popularity even further.
And I’m supposed to have a terrible relationship with someone like that…? Really?
Rowoon had no choice but to do this quest—he didn’t want to die, after all.
But is it even possible to survive this? What sort of insane difficulty is this?
In order to stay alive, Rowoon had to somehow make this movie a success. Only then would he settle the grudge the director—the protagonist of this quest—was harboring, and avoid dropping dead a sudden, mysterious death.
“Why? You didn’t think I’d come?”
Kang Chaheon smiled.
The sharp corners of his eyes curved slightly, giving him a dangerously seductive look.
“You should’ve just done what you always do. But suddenly you got clever and pulled some strings, so of course I had to show up.”
“That’s…”
Wait, there’s some misunderstanding here.
“You used to brag so much about your money, but this time you actually found a decent way to spend it. However, what now? Now that I’m here, things won’t go your way.”
He’d been smiling like a nice guy up to that point, but then his expression vanished, revealing a fierce energy.
“Don’t think about messing with people who are desperate. Just go play around the way you usually do—seriously.”
“No, listen—”
“Oh. If I say it like that, maybe that dimwitted brain of yours still won’t get it?”
The gentle tone was laced with hostility, each word stabbing like a knife.
“If you have the slightest sense, you’ll just step down on your own. Let’s not create any nasty scenes. If this becomes an issue, the one who loses out isn’t me but you, Lee Rowoon.”
He wasn’t the only one desperate here.
For Director Kim, it was about his reputation, but for Rowoon, it was literally about life or death!
Shocked by the sudden turn of events, Rowoon could do nothing but stand there, frozen.
Ding!
The elevator arrived.
Kang Chaheon got on, leaving Rowoon behind in the lobby. Through the doors as they closed, Rowoon saw it all—right down to those long, elegant fingers pointedly pressing the “door close” button.
“Huh? Rowoon, why are you just standing there?”
“Hyung…”
His manager arrived at exactly the wrong time, carrying coffee in both hands.
“Don’t tell me you were waiting for me so I wouldn’t have to carry all this? Aww, you sweet kid. Come on, let’s head up.”
“Hyuuung…”
“What’s with you? You don’t usually act so considerate.”
Rowoon had finally decided he would try to live a decent life—
And yet, he hadn’t even gotten to the script-reading before everything looked grim.
“Is this for real…?”
Still, he couldn’t let this kindly manager notice anything off.
“Hyung, do you happen to know Kang Chaheon?”
Even as doom-and-gloom music played in Rowoon’s head, he fought to keep his wits about him.
First, I have to figure out the backstory. Know thy enemy and know thyself, and you’ll never lose.
Whether it applies in this situation or not, that’s at least the plan. He needed to find out what kind of bad blood existed if he was going to handle it somehow.
“Kang Chaheon? Of course I know him! Who doesn’t? If you don’t know Kang Chaheon in this country, you’re practically a spy! The guy went to Hollywood, for crying out loud.”
That same Hollywood star was now threatening Rowoon’s lifespan…
“Hyung, do you know if I ever had any issues with him?”
“With him? You? …Kang Chaheon?”
The manager rolled his eyes in thought, then shook his head.
“No, not that I’m aware of.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, no offense, but… you and him never had any reason to cross paths.”
“Huh?”
“Well, how should I put it… You ran with a very different crowd than he did—like, a completely different level…”
Realizing how that might sound, the manager hastily added:
“Not that I mean anything bad! It’s just that Kang Chaheon is famously known for hating social gatherings, especially drinking parties.”
“Riiight…”
In other words, you and him are on totally different tiers. True enough, how could a notorious troublemaker—who couldn’t even handle minor roles—end up clinking glasses with a genuine top star?
Then how on earth does Kang Chaheon know the original owner of this body?
From what the manager said, there’s no official connection between the two.
But from Kang Chaheon’s attitude, it was obvious they knew each other really well—so well that their relationship had completely imploded.
Ding!
Right then, the elevator arrived again. The doors opened onto a spacious hall labeled “Back to the Roots,” already partially filled with people.
As soon as they stepped out, Rowoon bowed his head in greeting.
“Hello, everyone.”
Whatever the case, the first step is always to say hello. In this field, just greeting people politely already earns you half the goodwill you need. In other words, too many folks here don’t even do that properly.
Sure enough, the initial frosty vibe lightened a bit as soon as they saw Rowoon greeting them.
“Hi there, everyone. Here’s some coffee for you! We just bought it, so the ice hasn’t even melted yet.”
The manager cleverly backed Rowoon by distributing coffee at just the right moment. Rowoon followed, helping hand out cups.
Seeing that, the manager gave Rowoon a proud look, while those receiving the coffee eyed him curiously, as if wondering what had gotten into him.
“No one who brings you free food can be that bad,” as the saying goes.
Given how even the grumpiest chief in Rowoon’s old agency would brighten up if he showed up with something in hand, it was no surprise that the tension in the air eased up somewhat.
In the center of the room, a long oval table had been set up with name cards for each role and actor. Rowoon found the place labeled with his character’s name and sat down carefully.
Then—
“….”
“….”
He met eyes with someone straight on.
It was none other than Kang Chaheon, whose name card marked him as the film’s main lead, sitting right across from him.
And that was exactly the problem.
“Why does he look like that?”
If the film’s lead was outright hostile, that would make Rowoon’s precarious situation even worse. On top of that, right before they came up, Kang Chaheon had flat-out told him to drop out voluntarily.
Between their difference in reputation, acting skill—pretty much everything—Rowoon was clearly at a disadvantage. If the guy decided to say “Get out,” Rowoon wouldn’t have many options.
Rowoon had feared it might happen right away, but—
At least he’s not kicking me out on the spot?
Kang Chaheon wore the kind of expression you make when you’ve just spotted something bizarre.
Next to Kang Chaheon sat someone Rowoon recognized: Shim Saero, who had also been present at his audition.
“Oh—” Rowoon almost waved in excitement when he caught himself making eye contact with Kang Chaheon yet again.
He immediately put his hand down and averted his gaze. He wasn’t trying to snub the guy—he was just trying to survive.
“Ah, so our actors are already here!”
Right then, the door opened, and the man of the hour burst in—Director Kim Seongha, who was at the center of everything.
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