The weather had turned so cold now that you really couldn’t go without a padded coat.
As people in long padded jackets began to appear, Han Seongtae was walking in only a suit and an overcoat.
If it weren’t for the hoodie he wore under the suit jacket, he would probably have been freezing.
[‘One Who Defined His Era’ says it is only natural to endure cold for the sake of fashion.]
Han Seongtae let out a faint laugh at the god’s message.
Did the god know?
Han Seongtae had no desire to pour that much devotion into fashion.
He believed the time was better spent practicing.
Arriving at the set, he could see people gathered right from the entrance.
Between five massive soundstages, people were moving about, and each set bristled with cameras and lights.
Maybe because it was a Choi Ye-chan production starring Ma Seok-dong, the scale was immense.
[‘Man of a Thousand Faces’ marvels that sets these days have a different quality—perhaps thanks to improved technology.]
[‘Founder of Jeet Kune Do’ regrets that he is not standing up there himself.]
Smiling at the admiring messages, Han Seongtae began greeting everyone he passed.
“Hello, I’m Han Seongtae, playing Park Jae-hun.”
Unlike his previous life, where he had twenty years of experience, in this life he was starting from nothing.
So leaving a good impression on people was very important.
“Ah, yes. Hello.”
“Sure, pleased to meet you.”
Perhaps because his face was unknown, most reactions to his greeting were lukewarm.
A few replied warmly, but most merely glanced and left it at that.
‘I expected as much.’
Why would they care about a nobody?
Used to such reactions, he headed for the tent where the bit-part actors were gathered.
The tents for leads, supporting actors, and extras were separated and clearly labeled, so it was easy.
“Hello. I’m playing Gang Member 2—”
Inside, the bit players were exchanging greetings.
When Han Seongtae entered, their eyes focused on him.
Some actors looked older, some about his age. He went to those playing his underlings in the film.
Unlike him, for whom this was the first job ever, they all had experience.
“Hello, seniors. I’m Han Seongtae, playing Park Jae-hun. I look forward to working with you.”
“Yes, hello.”
“Same here.”
They accepted the greeting with slightly awkward smiles.
“Haven’t seen you before. How long have you been acting?”
Among them, one spoke rather brusquely.
Someone not in Han Seongtae’s memory—if he’d succeeded even a little in the future, Han would have known him.
“This is my first project, senior.”
Still, Han Seongtae answered sincerely; no need to sour things from the start.
“Your first project, huh?”
“Yes, senior.”
“Ha… Do you know anybody here?”
“…Pardon?”
Han tilted his head at the bit player’s words.
‘Why does he seem angry?’
They’d just met. The actor’s mood toward him looked bad.
“Come on, be real. Is it common for a rookie to get a role with weight? Unless you have strings, that’s hard.”
“…”
“And this wasn’t cast through an audition either. Weird, right? Oh, I look older—mind if I drop honorifics?”
He was already speaking informally, so why ask? Annoyance flared for a moment, but Han hid it and nodded.
“You look young. As an elder I’m giving advice: don’t rely on connections—prove yourself with acting.”
Saying only what he wanted, the man walked off.
The actor gone, Han sighed in bewilderment.
[‘Man of a Thousand Faces’ clicks his tongue, saying “He’s something else.”]
[‘Founder of Jeet Kune Do’ says he’s rarely seen a mouthy actor turn out any good.]
[‘One Who Defined His Era’ comforts you, saying you needn’t mind.]
The man’s outburst surprised him, but it didn’t really disappoint or upset him.
‘Not the first time.’
In his previous life, he’d taken far harsher abuse. This was nothing. Even if it was unfair, he could laugh it off.
[‘Man of a Thousand Faces’ says an actor speaks with performance, not the mouth.]
He would answer the man’s words with acting. Han Seongtae felt confident.
“Heading to shoot!”
A staffer called, and Han left the tent.
“Ha, really embarrassing.”
Kim Mu-cheol was performing in front of everyone.
Cameras caught him and lights shone.
Han Seongtae watched from a little distance.
‘It’s really been a long time since a shoot.’
First shoot since his return—and he was appearing, even as a bit part, in War of Villains. A path utterly different from his past life.
“Excuse me, you’re Han Seongtae, right?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll go in scene 4, so please be ready.”
He nodded and looked over the script once more.
As his turn approached, excitement mixed with nerves; afraid of mistakes, his hands trembled slightly.
[‘One Who Made Laughter From Tragedy’ says if you do it like usual there will be no problem.]
[‘One Who Defined His Era’ supports you, saying you can do well.]
The moment he read the messages, the shaking ceased and his mind calmed.
“Phew…”
Taking a deep breath, he skimmed the lines—only a few, but he kept reviewing to avoid errors.
“Please come up.”
When his turn came, he carefully set the script down and rose.
Ascending the set, he looked ahead: Ma Seok-dong and other actors preparing the next shot.
“Do well up there.”
“Yes, senior. I’ll do my best.”
Ma Seok-dong spoke with a smile, and Han answered, inhaling quietly.
“Ready… action!”
Choi Ye-chan’s voice filled the stage.
Han Seongtae became Park Jae-hun and looked at Ma Seok-dong. The kindly smile was gone; only Jang Su-dong’s cruel grin remained.
[‘Founder of Jeet Kune Do’ is with you.]
Because of Detective Jeong Seok-tae’s raid, Park Jae-hun had served time.
In prison he’d quickly established rank and held a decent position—until a new inmate turned his life upside down.
“You the boss here?”
“Who’s this hulk?”
A cocky smile from the newcomer made Park Jae-hun frown. When he approached, the atmosphere around the others felt odd—stiff as they watched the newcomer.
“Hey, what are you?”
“Some punk doesn’t recognize my face in this scene. Guess I’ll see everything if I live long enough.”
“Ha, what kind of bastard—”
Smack!
A flash filled his vision; heat flared in his left cheek.
‘Why me?’
He’d been standing, yet suddenly he was on the floor. What happened? In confusion he remembered the cocky newcomer and leapt up.
“Where’s that punk?”
“Oh, you’re up?”
The newcomer sat against the wall reading a Bible, calm as if nothing had happened—leaving Park Jae-hun bewildered.
“Sit down if you don’t want a beating. My neck hurts.”
“You…”
“Since earlier it’s ‘you, you.’ Keep it up and your tongue gets ripped out.”
“……”
Why did his face look so deadly? Without realizing, Park Jae-hun knelt.
“Name’s Jang Su-dong. We’ll be sharing a cell.”
That was the first time Park Jae-hun met Jang Su-dong.
“Cut!”
Choi Ye-chan’s voice broke Han Seongtae’s concentration.
[‘Man of a Thousand Faces’ gives you an unreadable look.]
[‘Founder of Jeet Kune Do’ struggles to find words.]
He could feel the stares on him—strange expressions, especially from the bit player who had spoken badly earlier.
An Dae-jeong was a third-year no-name actor.
He had no connections, no outstanding talent.
He hated being stuck in extra roles no matter how hard he tried, convinced that people who landed roles through money and connections kept him from success.
By chance he landed a small part with Director Choi Ye-chan.
‘Still, giving a rookie a role with weight? Really?’
When he learned an actor with zero credits had a meatier bit part, annoyance flared.
Seeing Choi chatting amicably with Han Seongtae, he naturally assumed the guy was in through connections.
“If you’ve got no strings you might as well die—too unfair to live.”
But his grumbling vanished once Han stepped on set.
He thought: parachute hire1, so why bother watching.
‘How… how can a parachute act like that?’
Han Seongtae’s performance opposite Ma Seok-dong shocked him.
Who could call that a parachute now? Han was showing real acting even beside Ma Seok-dong.
“He’s good.”
“Right? I worried when they said he was parachuted in, but he’s good.”
Whispers of praise rose around them.
Staring blankly, An Dae-jeong felt his motivation drain before he’d even performed; he couldn’t be sure he’d act better than Han Seongtae.
- A parachute hire (낙하산 in Korean slang) refers to someone who gets a job or role—not through merit or qualifications—but because of connections, favoritism, or nepotism. The image comes from the idea that someone is “dropped in” from above by someone in power, like being lowered by parachute into a position. ↩︎
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