On the “Race Start” set.
Amid the loud bustle of people moving busily, Nam Seokdae’s voice cut across the set.
“Seokjeong, we’ll run this scene as a long take.”
At Nam Seokdae’s words, Jo Seokjeong nodded.
The atmosphere on set was very good.
After the well-received teaser, Episode 1 aired and hit 3.2%.
For a station where dramas usually hovered at 1–2%, hitting 3% right out of the gate was a truly momentous thing.
The response to Episode 1 was strong, and since then the ratings had been inching up.
With Episode 4 projected at 3.8% to 4%, it was no surprise the set felt lively.
“This is great. But it’d be even better if you used your body larger. Feels like we’re short on flash.”
“Yes, sir!”
Listening to the actors’ replies, Nam Seokdae sat down with his arms crossed.
At the action director’s words, the stunt team bustled, and watching this, Nam Seokdae let out a sigh.
“Something wrong? You look pretty pent-up.”
“Ah, Minseong. It’s nothing. I’m just chewing on a few things.”
“Can you tell me what? If there’s anything we can help each other with, we should.”
At Lee Minseong’s words, Nam Seokdae stared at the actors.
Stuntmen were altering their blocking to heighten the spectacle.
“I kind of regret putting the pedal down so hard in Episode 1.”
“Mm…”
“Thinking we had to grab viewers from the start, we really pushed it. Now, even when the action’s good, it doesn’t feel like Ep 1.”
At Nam Seokdae’s words, Lee Minseong nodded in understanding.
‘That chase in Ep 1 was incredible even by my standards.’
Who could have predicted it?
That a rookie would show driving like a pro racer.
No one expected it, and that’s why it wouldn’t have been odd to say everyone on set went overboard during Ep 1.
“You must have a lot on your mind, Director.”
“It can’t be helped. I did anticipate this to a degree.”
At that complaint-laden voice, Minseong gave a wry smile and stepped away.
There was no way to solve Nam Seokdae’s problem for him.
Better to clear out than be a distraction at his side.
“Got anything interesting?”
Lee Minseong walked toward Jo Seokjeong, who was seated in a spot the staff had set aside.
Seokjeong, looking at his phone screen, lifted his head.
“Ah, hyung, you wrapped?”
“Just now. What were you watching?”
“Oh, this… Want to see it together?”
“What is it?”
Seokjeong patted the seat beside him and shared the phone screen he’d been watching.
Sitting next to him, Minseong cocked his head and looked at the display.
“…Isn’t that Seongtae?”
“It is, hyung. Looks like he’s prepping his next project.”
“Unless my eyes are bad, that’s a café…”
“He’s a newbie. It’s not strange if he doesn’t know the ropes here yet.”
“True.”
At Jo Seokjeong’s words, Minseong nodded and watched the clip of Han Seongtae acting.
— “So now you’ve seen my face, huh?”
The eerie voice and the grotesquely twisted grin on Han Seongtae.
He was nailing the psychopath killer, enough to draw praise from veteran actor Lee Minseong.
“He’s good.”
“Right? And he practices hard. It’s rare among kids these days to see someone put in this kind of work.”
“That much I have to concede. He’s diligent.”
The time acting with Seongtae wasn’t exactly long, but in that span you could learn who he was.
He was practically the emblem of diligence; he never showed a moment of idleness.
When he wasn’t shooting, he practiced; when he wasn’t practicing, he helped the staff.
Even when his personal scenes wrapped, didn’t he stay on set to help all the way to the end?
“Kids like him should make it. It’s nice to see he’s doing well.”
“He’ll succeed. With that much effort, it’d be stranger if he didn’t. Ah, I’m excited to see what kind of acting he shows this time.”
At Jo Seokjeong’s words, Minseong laughed and nodded.
Just from the clips on the forum, he was already looking forward to what Seongtae would bring.
“Is practice going well?”
Han Seongtae smiled as he spoke on the phone with Seo Harin.
It had been almost a week since they parted.
The moment he saw her act, Kim Minseok had welcomed her participation with open arms.
Her acting was good enough that you could hardly call it a first attempt.
— There are a few parts that are a bit hard, but aside from that it feels smooth.
At Harin’s words, Seongtae went “Ah,” and nodded.
“If anything’s difficult, tell me right away. I can help when it comes to acting.”
— Is that okay?
“No reason it wouldn’t be. We’ll be acting together. If there’s something I can help with, I want to.”
He meant it.
The better her acting got, the higher the project’s overall quality.
‘I’m not some master who can teach others, but I can still help.’
The gap between someone who’s acted and someone who hasn’t is huge.
That difference in experience is a realm talent alone can’t explain.
Even if her talent was great, there were definitely parts Seongtae could help with.
— Then could I come see you in person next time?
“Come here?”
— Yes. I’m the one learning; of course I should come to you. Tell me where’s convenient and I’ll go there.
Seongtae didn’t spend long thinking about her words.
He said he was fine either way, but she showed a firm resolve to come in person.
It would be odd to push back any further.
“Then let me at least buy you a meal.”
— That’s not what I was angling for… In that case, I’ll buy the coffee!
A meeting was set in an instant.
After hanging up, Seongtae put down his phone and turned his gaze to the script.
“Then next week…”
As he tapped the script and checked his schedule, his phone buzzed again.
— Jung Dusik: Seongtae, have you ever acted outside somewhere?
A text from Jung Dusik.
A question full of suspicion: did you act out in public?
‘How did he find out?’
Seongtae tilted his head at the text.
He hadn’t told them he’d met Harin, nor that he did a scene at a café.
— How did you know?
— Jung Dusik: Look at this first. Check if that’s you and get back to me.
A link came from Dusik.
Following it, Seongtae watched the clip that had been uploaded to a forum.
‘Ah… they filmed that, huh.’
There had been people shooting when he acted with Harin.
He’d seen folks with cameras, so seeing it on a forum didn’t exactly shock him.
‘This is the first time people are reacting this much to something I acted that wasn’t a drama scene.’
It wasn’t a broadcast scene, just an impromptu performance at a café.
It felt odd that people were circulating videos of that.
In his last life, he couldn’t get attention even when he wanted it.
[‘The One Who Defined Their Era’ expresses confidence you’ll receive a lot of attention going forward.]
[‘The One Who Made Laughter from Tragedy’ says it’s time to get used to it.]
Smiling at the gods’ messages, Seongtae texted Dusik back at once.
— Yeah, that’s me.
— Jung Dusik: You have no idea how much that startled me. Let’s be careful from now on.
— I will. I’ll be careful.
His café performance was for Kim Minseok’s short film, so it wouldn’t cause major issues.
But later, when shooting commercial films or dramas, doing the same could become a problem.
— Jung Dusik: As long as you’re careful, there won’t be trouble. Also, you’ve had some scripts come in; swing by the office when you can.
— Sure, I’ll give you a heads-up when I come.
After exchanging texts with Dusik, Seongtae let out a soft breath.
He set down his phone and looked over the script, a smile tugging at his lips.
— Vroooom!
An engine filled the room.
Inside an office.
A man sitting on a sofa was watching a video.
He was watching Episode 1 of “Race Start.”
— Get that bastard!
— How the hell is it that fast!
— Did he bolt boosters onto that thing or what?
Cops, gang members, mafia, and yakuza all chased a single car.
Despite their pursuit, the Stinger went about its business.
“The sponsor’s going to be happy.”
Whatever else, that flashy chase did wonders for the car’s ad value.
Even a guy who didn’t care about cars found himself wondering what make it was.
“Not bad.”
Beyond all that, the acting of the man in the car was very good.
His name was Han Seongtae, right?
There aren’t many rookies who can deliver this level of performance.
“At this level, I think it’d be fine to work together.”
He found himself interested in this actor named Han Seongtae.
Call it curiosity. What would that actor show if he worked with him?
Knock, knock, knock.
As he watched, a knock sounded at the door, and he turned his head.
“Hello, Director.”
The person entering smiled broadly and approached him.
4 p.m.
To look over the scripts sent to him, Han Seongtae went to the agency.
“Seongtae, you’re here?”
“Yeah, hyung. The scripts?”
“Here. There’s three of them. See if any catch your eye.”
“Okay, I’ll check them now. Do you need an immediate answer?”
At Seongtae’s question, Jung Dusik shook his head.
“No rush. Go at your pace.”
“Got it. Mind if I sit over there to read?”
“Go ahead.”
Seongtae took a seat and started reading.
He saw some familiar titles.
‘These did poorly.’
Projects that tanked because of weak stories or weak acting.
Looking them over, Seongtae glanced at Jung Dusik.
Dusik sat beside him, looking at his phone.
One hour.
That’s how long he took to read.
“Hyung, I skimmed everything.”
“Yeah? How is it?”
“To be blunt, none of them appeal. The scripts just aren’t fun.”
“Yeah?”
Even so, Dusik nodded without fuss.
“I figured. I skimmed them too. I didn’t find them interesting.”
“Ah…”
“Well, got it. We can always find something else. Take your time deciding.”
“Okay.”
At Dusik’s words, Seongtae nodded right away.
‘I’ve got a film to shoot too. Handle what’s right in front first.’
Jumping straight into a project is fine, but there’s no need to rush it.
Looking down at the scripts, Seongtae felt no lingering attachment.
Climbing one step at a time mattered.
[‘The One of a Thousand Faces’ clicks their tongue; every last one of them is boring.]
[‘The One Who Lives by Speed and Dies by Speed’ says having an eye for good material is important too.]
Smiling at the gods’ messages, Han Seongtae let out a quiet laugh.
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