When Kang Woojin checked Director Shin Dongchun's message, he was a little surprised.
Only on the inside, of course.
They already picked the finalists? That was fast.
His heart started pounding.
I'm really going to a film festival?
Wow… that's the kind of thing I only used to see on TV at the end of the year.
And now I'm actually doing it?
Of course, it would be different from massive award ceremonies like the Blue Dragon Film Awards or the SBS Drama Awards that Woojin had seen before.
But for an ordinary person like Kang Woojin, none of that mattered.
Big or small, it all felt dazzling.
He was slowly beginning to realize that his life was changing dramatically.
Right then—
♫♪
The phone of Choi Sunggeon, sitting in the passenger seat, started ringing.
While checking Kang Woojin's schedule in his planner, he glanced at the caller ID.
"Director Shin?"
Meeting Kang Woojin's eyes through the rearview mirror, Choi Sunggeon raised the phone to his ear.
"Yes, Director."
Director Shin Dongchun's excited voice burst through the speaker.
"CEO Choi, The Private Investigator was selected as a finalist! I just got the call from the judges!"
"Oh, really? Just now?"
"Yes! Our submission's been confirmed. I sent Woojin a message too, in case he was filming."
"Ah, we're on the move right now."
Choi Sunggeon's voice rose with excitement.
"Wow, that was really fast! Honestly, I thought it would take longer for the finalists to be announced. Were there fewer submissions than expected?"
"I don't think so. The committee didn't reveal the exact number, but from the little information they released, it seems submissions increased by about thirty percent compared to last year. It's probably over a thousand entries."
"But still, for it to be this quick…"
Choi Sunggeon trailed off.
Then he quickly sorted through his thoughts and found an answer.
"The project itself is strong, but I think Hong Hyeyeon's unexpected participation made them contact us right away."
"Usually, the major selections are announced all at once in a single day, right?"
"I think that's very likely too."
"It seems they individually contacted projects with high attention potential first."
"Kind of a way to show interest early."
Choi Sunggeon ended the call with Director Shin Dongchun shortly after arriving at Team B's filming set.
"Yes, understood, Director. We'll prepare everything according to schedule. Yes, yes."
The moment the BW Entertainment CEO ended the call, Han Yejung—who had been sitting next to Kang Woojin—shifted toward the passenger seat.
"Wow. The Private Investigator made the finals?"
"Yes, it did."
"Wow."
Even Han Yejung, who usually seemed cold, looked genuinely surprised.
She stared at Woojin's cynical face with impressed eyes.
"Hey, you're going to a film festival after only two months of acting?"
For some reason, Choi Sunggeon answered instead.
"It's only been two months since he came back to Korea."
"Woojin, have you experienced film festivals somewhere else before?"
That was absolutely impossible.
At that moment, Han Yejung opened her planner with a serious expression.
Her eyes burned with determination.
"I'll handle the makeup perfectly."
"The Mise-en-scène Short Film Festival is a big event in the short film world."
"There'll be a lot of reporters, Directors, and actors there."
"There's no way I'm messing this up."
At that point, Woojin had no choice but to lower his gaze back to the Island of the Missing script.
It was the only way to calm his pounding heart.
Watching Kang Woojin through the rearview mirror, Choi Sunggeon let out a quiet sigh.
A film festival debut barely two months after appearing…
This is unbelievable.
Totally unprecedented.
I've never seen a path like this.
And on top of that, top domestic Directors are already obsessed with him.
This is insane.
No matter how good the acting was, charming Directors was an entirely different matter.
Choi Sunggeon, who had spent more than ten years in the entertainment industry, knew that better than anyone.
His English is good enough that he could head to Hollywood right now and not look out of place.
I'm not sure about his Japanese yet, though.
Feeling zero regret about the bold contract terms he had offered, Choi Sunggeon turned around.
He was already imagining Woojin's explosive future.
"Woojin, what do you think of the Island of the Missing script?"
"It's interesting."
"Oh? Interesting?"
"Yes. Why do you ask?"
"No reason."
"It just sounds a little strange when you say something is 'interesting.'"
It might have sounded awkward.
But Woojin wasn't lying.
Nor was it part of his act.
Island of the Missing really was interesting.
No, seriously… how is anyone supposed to deal with a monstrous genius like that?
So even with his cold expression, Woojin answered again with sincerity.
"I haven't finished reading it yet."
"But it's interesting."
"Good."
"Let me know after you finish it."
"Whether you want to do it or not, and which character stood out to you the most."
"Director Kwon Gitaek said there's no need to rush."
"Take your time thinking about it."
"Yes, CEO."
"Director Kwon Gitaek will probably be busy with the Mise-en-scène Short Film Festival schedule too."
"We'll meet him after the festival."
Then suddenly—
Kang Woojin calmly changed the subject.
"Could I get more scripts or scenarios?"
"Suddenly?"
"Do you mean works that are already circulating?"
"Or ones that haven't started yet?"
"I'd prefer things still in the planning stage."
There wasn't any special reason.
It wasn't about coveting projects.
Woojin simply wanted to read more scripts.
He wanted to gain experience and knowledge quickly.
Hopefully something high-grade comes out.
Meanwhile, Choi Sunggeon stroked his chin.
"Hmm. It won't be hard to get works circulating in the market."
"But there's no need to rush, is there?"
"I just want to read them in advance."
"Really?"
"Then what genres do you prefer?"
"Thriller, action, romantic comedy, things like that."
"It doesn't matter much to me."
"Hmm… you've already taken on a lot of intense characters early in your debut."
"If you keep doing those kinds of roles, your image might get fixed."
"Honestly, cute characters are the most effective way to explode a fandom."
Continuing his explanation, Choi Sunggeon added—
"Woojin, you're versatile."
"Your spectrum is wide."
Then he proposed something to the silent Kang Woojin.
"Should we try romantic comedy?"
"Or maybe melodrama?"
Around lunchtime that same day.
Tokyo, Japan.
A high-end sushi restaurant near Tokyo Station.
At first glance, it looked extremely expensive.
Inside a VIP room lined with tatami mats, two men sat facing each other.
One looked to be in his fifties.
Gray hair.
A large nose.
The other was slimmer and looked much younger.
Colorful sushi dishes filled the center of the table.
Then the slim man spoke first.
"Ah, Director."
The gray-haired man, who had been staring at the sushi, answered in a low voice.
"Why?"
"The winner is whoever eats faster, isn't it?"
The slim man burst out laughing.
"No, I'm not talking about sushi."
"You're going to Korea this time, right?"
"You said you were invited to a film festival."
"Hmm?"
"Ah, yes."
"I'm thinking of going."
"Really?"
"You've rested enough by now."
"It feels like it's time for you to start a new project."
"Even if that's true…"
"I won't be doing it with you."
"That's disappointing."
The big-nosed man in his fifties—
was one of Japan's most famous master Directors.
Whenever people talked about giants of Japanese cinema, his name always appeared.
Documentaries.
Action.
Biopics.
Drama.
Thrillers.
His work covered nearly every genre.
He had even won an award at the 2018 Cannes Film Festival.
His name was Tanoguchi Kyotaro.
On top of that—
Director Kyotaro had deep ties to Korea.
He was famous for genuinely enjoying Korean culture and Korean content.
His social media often featured travel photos from Korea.
Long ago, he had even participated in a Korea-Japan joint production.
Even so—
"What's disappointing about it?"
"We've worked together on many projects already."
Director Kyotaro set down his chopsticks.
The slim man sighed.
Then he changed the subject.
"Yes, yes."
"But is there really anything at that Korean film festival you'd enjoy?"
"It's the Mise-en-scène Short Film Festival."
"I was invited last year too, but I couldn't go."
"This year I should definitely attend."
"It's a major festival for short films and art films."
"There should be plenty to see."
"But if it's a short film festival, aren't the actors basically unknown?"
"And it's only notable within Korea or internationally in a niche way."
"So it's not that important, right?"
"The projects themselves probably aren't much either."
Holding a glass of water, Director Kyotaro glanced at the man across from him.
"That way of thinking is exactly what's causing the decline of the Japanese film industry."
"…What?"
"It's the same in Japan."
"Short films and art films don't get proper attention there either."
"Looking at the current situation, Japan has a lot to learn from Korea's content market system."
"Ah, yes. I agree."
"Just look at Japanese Netflix."
"More than half of the top ten most popular titles are Korean productions."
"Isn't that a serious problem?"
"But Japan's domestic market is stable."
"So things always end up like this."
"…."
"Actors always perform with the attitude of 'Look, I'm acting right now!'"
"And Directors keep using the same methods and systems."
Director Kyotaro sighed deeply.
"But Japan has already been swept up in the Korean Wave."
"The number of people enjoying K-pop and Korean content keeps increasing."
Then he spoke sincerely.
"We need to pay much more attention to Korea."
"That's why I'm going."
Later.
While Kang Woojin focused on filming Profiler Hanryang, news began circulating online.
Most of it revolved around the Mise-en-scène Short Film Festival.
Promotion was far more aggressive than the year before.
Sponsors were clearly spending freely.
And the buzz kept growing day by day.
Film communities started stirring.
Posts spread across social media.
The festival was being discussed everywhere.
Offline too.
For example—
"Oh—"
Kim Daeyoung had just returned from lunch.
Since he had always been interested in acting, the news caught his eye even more.
"They're really covering the Mise-en-scène Short Film Festival a lot this year."
He genuinely wanted to go.
The schedule included screenings of finalist short films for a full week.
But he didn't want to go alone.
"Phew… should I drag someone with me?"
He sent a message to one of their friends.
Soon replies flew back and forth.
After recruiting two friends, Kim Daeyoung also messaged Kang Woojin.
Hey, are you dead? At least show your face once in a while.
Surprisingly, a reply came quickly.
Leave me alone: Later. I'm seriously busy right now.
The moment Kim Daeyoung saw it, he snorted.
"This guy definitely has a girlfriend."
Late afternoon.
Sunday, April 26.
The filming set of Profiler Hanryang.
This time it was the main team.
PD Song Manwoo and dozens of staff held their breath as they watched the filming.
At the center—
stood Kang Woojin.
Or rather—
Assistant Manager Park.
Handcuffed.
Detectives holding him on both sides.
The front camera slowly slid forward along its rail.
And on the monitor—
Assistant Manager Park's face gradually filled the screen.
He said nothing.
He simply stared at the approaching camera.
What was interesting was the subtle change in his expression.
The closer the camera came—
the more the corners of his lips began to rise.
Slowly.
As if the process of a smile were unfolding in slow motion.
Assistant Manager Park's smile widened.
No—
a chilling smile spread across his face.
Like black ink seeping outward.
The camera stopped two steps away.
A bright smile bloomed on the face that had shown no emotion until now.
Combined with the madness in his eyes—
he almost looked like a clown.
A fabricated smile.
And the truth hidden beneath it.
One face.
Yet countless masks layered beneath it.
The character's nature was completely exposed—
yet the truth remained impossible to grasp.
Right then—
"Cut!! Okay!!!"
PD Song Manwoo jumped to his feet and shouted.
Dozens of staff burst into applause.
Clap clap clap clap!
"That was incredible! You nailed it perfectly!"
"Woojin, great work!!"
"What a shame! Woojin, you did amazing!"
The actors waiting nearby—including Ryu Jungmin—joined the applause.
Their faces were full of genuine smiles.
Kang Woojin's performance as Assistant Manager Park had been extraordinary.
He was their junior.
But the applause carried the respect of fellow actors.
Then—
Thud, thud.
PD Song Manwoo ran onto the set.
He raised both thumbs.
"Out of my entire directing career—"
"the Assistant Manager Park you gave us is the best."
"I mean that."
Even amid the flood of praise, Woojin maintained his calm expression.
Inside, however—
he was flustered.
How am I supposed to wrap this up?
At the same time—
a huge wave of emotion hit him.
Accomplishment.
Satisfaction.
For once—
he didn't need to act.
He didn't need to pretend to be tough.
Hmm… I should thank everyone.
Kang Woojin bowed deeply to Song Manwoo PD.
To the senior actors he had sweated alongside.
To the countless staff members.
"Thank you, everyone."
"I learned a lot."
It was the moment filming ended for Assistant Manager Park in Profiler Hanryang.
One hour later.
Kang Woojin walked into the parking lot alone.
Choi Sunggeon was still talking with the directing team.
Han Yejung was organizing costumes.
Jang Suhwan had rushed to the restroom.
Woojin lifted his gaze toward the night sky above the black van.
The moonlight was bright.
A cool breeze blew.
It almost felt like nature itself was congratulating him.
And so—
his suppressed joy burst out.
A bright smile spread across his face.
For a moment—
he stopped acting.
The excitement.
The satisfaction.
The happiness of overcoming everything.
He had worked hard.
Surely this much was allowed.
He started giggling.
The real Kang Woojin.
"Haha… I shouldn't laugh."
"But it's still so funny."
And there he stood—
giggling to himself.
Then—
"…?"
Someone inside a white van was watching him.
It was Hong Hyeyeon.
She had a pink eye mask pushed up on her forehead.
Her expression turned serious.
"What is he doing…?"