T/N: I apologize for the lack of updates on this one. I got overwhelmed and also this novel is like a bunch of stories in one. My brain… I’ll do my best moving forward though!
To recap chapter 1, he got injured after trying boxing and he became aware of his past lives.
“Still, you managed to avoid your face. Well done, really. Come eat.”
After being discharged he arrived home.
His mother, Madam Lee Jeong-sun, was waiting for him.
She wiped her hands on her apron, then squinted at the stitched spot as if she were the one hurt. Her brow knit with sympathy and deep affection.
It felt like the first time in ages he had met those eyes, so Myeong-woo pressed his lips together.
“You must have been scared. Hungry?”
“…Yes.”
“Just wash your hands and sit. I’ll have the food ready in a minute.”
She set the meal out right away.
Ox-bone soup.
The milky broth was Myeong-woo’s favorite.
The bowl placed before him held far more meat than the other two.
“Why are you just staring? Hurry, take a spoonful.”
“I can eat after you have some first…”
“Here, I ate.”
Only now did he realize how precious and happy this ordinary moment was, a moment he would normally pass without notice.
How valuable everyday life is.
Slurp.
Warmth spread through his stomach.
“Is it all right?”
“Yes, it’s delicious.”
Jeong-sun relaxed at her son’s smile.
She sensed that peace had finally returned to the household after the recent chill between father and son. When Myeong-woo hit puberty, the atmosphere at home had deteriorated rapidly.
Jeong-sun had burned with guilt for failing to cushion the tension.
Even giving everything is never enough for a parent’s heart.
Seeing her anxious son had been painful.
Yet today, Myeong-woo’s face looked more at ease than ever before.
“Here, have some kimchi, too.”
Seeing her smile, Myeong-woo spoke.
“May you both live long and healthy.”
“You rascal.”
“Eat plenty.”
Clatter of dishes.
A comforting warmth.
Returning from a long journey, he was welcomed home with tenderness.
“Good.”
Myeong-woo holed up in his room all day, organizing his thoughts.
First goal:
“Become an actor.”
Before recalling his previous life, ordinary high-schooler Myeong-woo had dreamed of acting.
The reason was simple.
As a child, an obscure troupe had visited his orphanage to volunteer, performing a children’s play for free.
Looking back now, the makeup had been sloppy and the acting poor.
Even so, seeing a performance unfold right before his eyes was a shock.
‘Everyone is watching him.’
The actor who dominated the stage radiated a vitality that seemed indomitable.
He was alive, breathing.
Unforgotten, eternal.
That fierce heat was instinctively what young Myeong-woo had desired.
Even after regaining memories and various talents from his previous life, he still wanted to act.
If he became an actor, it felt as though even the self that had died would be revived.
He thought he might find his true self.
“I’m confident.”
Simply counting the lives he had already lived, the number of characters he could portray was immense.
He could definitely do it.
So what he needed to do next was clear.
“Where are you going?”
“Out to exercise.”
“You shouldn’t be running hard yet.”
“I’ll just walk a bit.”
He headed to the park where he usually trained.
‘Let’s live this life well too.’
He had already leapt over countless obstacles blocking his path.
Sometimes the times were against him.
‘How dare a low-born try to beat a noble’s son!’
Sometimes circumstances were unfavorable.
‘With this money you can feed your whole family. Sell me that work.’
Sometimes the opponent was problematic.
‘Remember to lose on purpose. The other guy is a big shot in this field.’
But Myeong-woo had not been defeated.
Those victories would help him greatly in life ahead.
Shaking off intruding old memories, he assessed his current state.
“I wasn’t completely untalented before either.”
Striking features that drew the eye.
Ideal proportions.
A body that hardly gained weight and resilient skin that stayed clear even in acne-ridden years.
He had the basic frame.
The shortcomings were twofold.
First, clumsy motor skills, a natural klutz.
Second, a fragile, distractible temperament that tensed up and made frequent mistakes.
‘No matter how talented you are, if you can’t show it on stage it’s worthless.’
But that would no longer happen.
Those two issues were practically remedied already.
The body would need steady training because it doesn’t shape overnight, yet his coordination had clearly improved, as had his focus and nerve.
‘I know how to train.’
He possessed the regimen taught by his nameless martial-arts mentor, Master Gong.
Kim Sa-gyeon had lost his parents young and was starving to death alone in the mountains when that teacher rescued him.
During training he cut ties with society, abstained from meat, and treated sloth as evil.
Extreme and aggressive, but it made him strong.
Legends about that strength spread by word of mouth.
When Sa-gyeon lost his master and reached true mastery, rumors filled the region:
‘Even if you lose your way in that mountain, do not fear revenant spirits. A divine swordsman appears and saves you.’
He showed no mercy to forces that threatened his home. Foes and beasts all bowed their heads.
Past a hundred years of age, he was accepted as the local guardian spirit.
‘Let’s begin.’
Myeong-woo awakened the senses of his past life with practiced ease.
“Huup.”
He centered power in his lower abdomen, feeling energy circulate through his body.
He could not manipulate qi like Kim Sa-gyeon, yet his five senses began sharpening.
A deep breath.
Heat spreading through his body.
Spirit growing stronger.
He recalled his master. When first teaching this method to a clumsy disciple who could not even sense the flow, the master had said,
‘Do not be impatient.’
Do not rush.
Reach the goal step by step.
The throbbing headache subsided.
He became less aware of himself, more sensitive to nature.
Caw, caw!
Kim Sa-gyeon, raised in the mountains, could distinguish bird cries.
That cry signaled a predator’s appearance, usually when they spotted a feline.
Despite the crow’s warning, Myeong-woo did not stir.
Yes, this feeling.
When body and mind settle, the surroundings grow eerily still.
Body and spirit are connected.
This is not merely physical training.
When each faculty sharpens, the release of emotion also becomes free. Human emotions evolved alongside survival: fear to live through danger, anger to fight threats.
“Awoo-oo-oo!”
Recalling the final death cry Kim Sa-gyeon had heard, he instinctively emitted killing intent.
For a beast sneaking up from behind, that was instant deterrence.
Whine, yelp.
Soaked in sweat, he composed himself and saw a wild dog sprawled belly-down nearby.
A stray dog.
Pant, pant!
He examined the face of the creature that had dared target the trainee’s back.
Black nose, tongue lolling past its jaws.
“You…”
Even while still, the dog’s expression seemed permanently smiling, and its presence felt familiar.
“Now that I recognize myself, do you recognize me too?”
This was not their first meeting.
About six months ago, a stray had suddenly appeared in the neighborhood, even covered on animal programs recently.
So clever and fast it sensed every attempt and escaped capture, eluding rescue.
A local celebrity.
And—
“You’re Beongae (Lightning), right?”
“Woof, woof!”
New Year’s Eve.
On the path down from a hunt, he had first met the dog under a lightning-struck tree.
He shared the meat he’d stored and the dog followed him at will.
At a whistle, it understood and drove prey fiercely, a brilliant companion.
Who knew they would meet again in this life?
“It’s good to see you again.”
“Awoo.”
When he stroked its fur, the tail whipped furiously.
The same fate as a wandering dog, same appearance.
It had no major wounds visible, but it looked underfed.
“I’d love to take you home right now, but I’m not living alone these days.”
“Whine.”
“Let’s go to a clinic first.”
He hoisted the dog and jogged to the nearest animal hospital. Beongae happily licked his face the whole way.
“Good grief…”
At the clinic.
Vet technician Yeong-seon at the front desk gaped at him.
A Jindo sitting quietly in a person’s arms with its tongue lolling—seeing that made both veterinarian and technician gasp in disbelief.
“How on earth did you catch this one? It bolts the moment it sees a human!”
“Your name is Beongae, right?”
The clinic had also given the dog the temporary name Beongae, meaning lightning-quick feet.
Myeong-woo shrugged.
“He was calm.”
“Calm? Calm? Do you know how fierce he is? He never lets anyone touch him, is too smart for traps, we tried rescuing him so many times. And now he comes in cradled like a baby… unbelievable.”
Glancing between Myeong-woo’s face and the dog content in his arms, Yeong-seon muttered,
“Do you pick companions by looks too?”
“Ahem.”
“Doctor, did you hear that?”
“Let’s examine him first.”
Even on the exam table the dog did not resist while Myeong-woo held him.
All through the check-up exclamations of stunned relief continued.
“For a stray he’s amazingly healthy. I was worried…”
The same strong pelvic bone as ever.
He had lived far past his expected lifespan, sturdy and long-lived.
Feeling proud, Myeong-woo patted him and stood.
“I’ll be going now.”
“Ah, yes. Drop by to see him often. And…”
The vet paused, then added,
“If you consider adopting him, let us know.”
He left, after one last look at Beongae that was whining softly.
“Oh, this is great. I’ve seen him in the street a few times, poor thing was skin and bones, broke my heart,” Jeong-sun exclaimed, clapping when she heard about Beongae.
“You said you spoke to him a few times. He recognizes a familiar face and asks you to help.”
A mother’s interpretation, mixing sympathy with a little teasing.
Myeong-woo agreed gently.
“Up close his eyes were clear, like a deer’s.”
“I see…”
“So, the doctor asked if I’m thinking of adopting.”
Carefully but firmly, he gave his opinion.
“I’d like to bring him home.”
She did not look surprised, as though she had expected those words from the moment the story began.
She only seemed deep in thought.
“He’ll go to a shelter?”
“For now the clinic will look after him, but without an owner that’s where he’ll end up.”
Taking responsibility for a life was no small matter.
“Whine.”
Myeong-woo recalled the look Beongae gave him when they parted.
Eyes that did not want to say goodbye.
“I closed that dog’s eyes for the last time too.”
Even after centuries, the feel of the old dog’s tongue on his palm in its final days lingered within him.
He really wanted to bring him home.
Loyal, watchful, and intelligent, the Jindo developed as a breed on an island off the coast of South Korea. Medium-sized and natural in appearance, they are valued as independent hunters, discerning guardians, and loyal companions. For more info, click HERE.
One response to “Great Actor Chapter 2”
A dog! Thanks for the pic