"...Hmm? Mr. Woojin, what did you just say?"
At Kang Woojin's firm refusal, even Seo Guseop's voice on the other end of the call settled down. Still, Woojin's reaction did not change much.
"This isn't an easy time to talk."
Seo Guseop forced a laugh. The atmosphere called for it.
"Mr. Kang Woojin, did you hear my name properly? And that I'm from GGO Entertainment?"
"I hear you clearly."
"Then?"
"Then what?"
Woojin let out a quiet sigh. He had half a mind to hang up immediately, thinking it was voice phishing, but rumors spread faster than light in the entertainment industry. It was better to avoid unnecessary gossip. Choi Seonggeon had warned him about that as well.
'GGO Entertainment… I've heard of them plenty. Either way, I should wrap this call cleanly.'
If it was a major agency, its influence would be even greater. Before he knew it, Kang Woojin had reached a point where he had to think about managing his own image.
He spoke again, his voice low.
"I need to get to filming."
"Ah, I see. Then I'll keep this brief. I heard about the one-year contract. GGO Entertainment is very interested. We'd like to meet you as soon as possible."
"This week will be difficult."
'It might even stay that way until next year.'
"…Difficult?"
"I also have a Japan schedule."
"Ah, you mean The Stranger's Grim Sacrifice?"
Seo Guseop, who had just let out a disappointed sigh, suddenly laughed.
"Haha, alright. Then let's meet as soon as you return. The Mise-en-scène Film Festival didn't start off well, but from a business standpoint, I'd call it fate."
"I'll check my schedule and get back to you."
"Good. I'll be waiting. And just so you know, we're willing to accommodate any condition you want."
"Thank you."
Click.
Only after the call ended did Kang Woojin clearly recall who Seo Guseop was. The clue had been the Mise-en-scène Film Festival. His face was vague in memory, but they had definitely met there. That thought also brought to mind Park Junghyuk, the fallen top star who had attempted an image change through The Private Investigator.
'Did I step in and mess things up?'
Woojin didn't dwell on it. At most, he understood a little more why this industry was called a jungle. People who used to clash and argue now smiled like friends.
That shift made him uncomfortable.
'What can I do? I'll just have to adapt.'
Muttering under his breath, he sent appropriate replies to the agencies that had just contacted him. The content was similar to what he told Seo Guseop. There was no need to ruin relationships unnecessarily.
After that, Kang Woojin fell into brief contemplation.
"Hmm—"
Compared to the time of the Profiler Hanryang reading, everything felt completely different. With news of his contract spreading, even major agencies like GGO Entertainment were reaching out directly.
Even their CEOs.
'Back then, I only received business cards. At best, ones handed over through managers.'
That alone showed how far Kang Woojin's acting career had come. This contract couldn't be taken lightly. It would determine the next several years of his life, and because he lacked experience, he had been preparing thoroughly.
Before bed. On days off.
Whenever he was alone, he repeatedly reviewed his contract and searched online for the conditions of well-known actors.
And—
'The difference between who I was and who I am now.'
He reflected on what he had achieved and what lay ahead. It was still difficult. Having negotiated only once in his first year, it made no sense to act like he knew everything.
But there was one thing he felt certain about.
'Even if it feels like too much… I should try it.'
He decided to incorporate a bit of his "concept" into the negotiations. His character was already firmly established, so even bold moves wouldn't feel out of place to others. That was how he planned to naturally reach a proper deal.
"Heh, not bad."
What snapped Kang Woojin out of his thoughts was the sound of the van door.
Ding.
Choi Seonggeon opened it and pointed behind him with his thumb.
"Standby. Let's go, Woojin."
"Yes, sir."
Still in his military uniform, Kang Woojin stepped out quietly. As he did, he glanced at Choi Seonggeon, who remained focused on his phone.
'Better not mention the agency calls.'
──────────
Around noon, at SBC.
Among the hallways lined with posters of popular dramas, the poster for Profiler Hanryang stood out, newly placed and clean. Beyond the glass doors of a meeting room at the end of the corridor, a large group had gathered.
Most were older.
But it wasn't just SBC executives. Influential figures from across the entertainment industry were present. The reason was simple.
They were the judging panel for the SBC Acting Awards, now less than two months away.
The atmosphere was solemn.
Around a large rectangular table, tablets and documents were spread out, containing information on this year's productions and standout actors. The judges examined everything closely.
Then one of them spoke.
"Hmm, as expected, Profiler Hanryang is strong again this year."
Its actors dominated both activity and nominations.
"It's only natural. It had ratings, popularity, artistic value, and strong performances."
"If those actors aren't nominated, viewers will definitely push back."
"I just hope we can finish this year without controversy."
"Agreed."
At that moment, a man adjusting narrow glasses joined in.
"This year's rookie award is especially difficult."
"Because of Kang Woojin?"
"Yes. The gap between him and the others is too big."
Several people nodded.
Every year, rookie awards usually went to at least four actors. But this time, Woojin's presence overwhelmed everything. That imbalance alone could spark controversy.
There was plenty of precedent to prove it.
"Then perhaps we should give the rookie award to just one person."
"Instead, the others could be considered for something like a Scene Stealer Award."
"They all did well. Kang Woojin is just too strong."
A middle-aged woman spoke carefully.
"Still, wouldn't it be disappointing if Kang Woojin were the only rookie nominee?"
──────────
Meanwhile, at bw Entertainment—
Every team was in chaos.
The PR team held intense meetings, while others were busy taking calls and working on laptops. Despite having only two contracted actors, their influence was immense.
Especially Kang Woojin.
Because of the one-year contract rumors, the office phones rang nonstop.
♪♬
A staff member from the management team stood up with a transparent file and approached the team leader.
"Manager, I've organized Woojin's award-related information. Hye-yeon's was submitted yesterday."
"I see. What offers has Woojin received so far?"
"As expected, invitations came from the Blue Dragon Film Awards, the Grand Bell Awards, and all three major broadcasters. Film festivals have already confirmed nominations."
The manager flipped through the file.
Blue Dragon Film Awards — Final nominee: Kang WoojinBest New Actor (The Private Investigator)Popularity Star Award
Grand Bell Awards — Confirmed nominee: Kang WoojinBest New Actor (The Private Investigator)New Wave Award
The team leader looked stunned.
"…Is this really happening to a rookie actor?"
A faint, incredulous smile formed.
"Is this even possible in a debut year?"
──────────
Late afternoon, back in Buyeo.
Even as the sun set, the massive set of The Island of the Missing remained intense. Director Kwon Gitaek and over a hundred staff worked relentlessly, and the actors matched their energy.
At least the weather had cooled slightly.
The military uniform felt more bearable because of it.
Among the parked vehicles, Kang Woojin approached a familiar van, stretching his stiff neck as he walked.
Huu—
He opened the door, climbed in, and exhaled softly. After nonstop filming, he had about an hour to rest. Waiting around on set was exhausting, so resting in the van had become routine.
Soon, he leaned back and crossed his legs.
'Not bad. Has my stamina really improved?'
Even after filming all day, his condition felt good. Compared to before, he clearly had more energy. Repeated filming had strengthened both his acting and his physical endurance.
Satisfied, he checked his phone.
"There's a lot."
Missed calls, messages, KakaoTalk notifications. Dozens had piled up. Among them, he paused at one.
Mom: Woojin, when are you going to Japan again?
'The Stranger's Grim Sacrifice.'
After replying, his gaze shifted to the stack of scripts beside him. Feeling he still had energy, he reached out.
Instead of The Leech, he picked The Stranger's Grim Sacrifice.
He had already read it multiple times, but repetition was necessary. It made everything clearer. With the script reading approaching, reviewing again made sense.
He opened it.
The entire script was in Japanese.
Even though he had a Korean version, he preferred the original. To fully understand the intent, that was the right choice.
'The differences become clearer this way.'
For him, it didn't matter. His Japanese was already near-native.
He immersed himself in the script.
The story was one of revenge, but not the explosive kind. It was restrained, quiet, and painfully controlled. There was no mercy in it, only a cold, suffocating atmosphere that lingered beneath the surface.
At the center of it all was Iyota Kiyoshi, a Zainichi Korean.
The story began with school violence.
Kiyoshi was the victim.
It started with something trivial—his expression, the way his face looked. Those small reasons grew over time, eventually turning into discrimination tied to his identity. And from there, he became the target of relentless bullying.
But Kiyoshi never reacted.
No matter what was done to him—whether his desk disappeared, his locker was filled with trash, he was suddenly assaulted, his clothes were taken, milk cartons were thrown at him, or his money was stolen—he showed nothing.
No expression. No emotion. No sign of pain.
His face was empty, like a broken machine.
That only made things worse.
Then a girl appeared.
Misaki Toka.
A transfer student who, after seeing the atmosphere of the school, found the courage to stand up for him. She shouted for everyone to stop and asked if he was okay.
It was the first time anyone had ever said that to him.
'Why… is she protecting me?'
Outwardly, Kiyoshi remained indifferent, but his attention shifted toward her. It was not love, but something closer to respect. He began to observe her quietly.
For a time, the bullying toward him stopped.
Because of that, they were able to spend time together.
They ate lunch, talked, and shared small moments. Toka treated people as they were, without judgment. When he was with her, Kiyoshi felt something like a breeze passing through a hollow space inside him.
But it did not last.
The bullying had not disappeared. It had simply shifted.
To her.
When she stopped coming to school for several days, Kiyoshi realized what had happened. And when she returned, her face was marked with scars.
Unlike him, she could not hide what she felt.
In the end, Kiyoshi witnessed her death with his own eyes.
──────────
His perspective merged with Kiyoshi's.
His emotions felt dried out, like an endless desert. And yet the warmth of sunlight and the soft brush of wind against his skin remained.
Cherry blossoms drifted in the distance.
It felt like spring.
He stood on the rooftop.
Ahead of him, Misaki Toka sat precariously on the railing, her skirt fluttering in the wind. It was dangerous, but he did not move. He simply watched her, his gaze lingering on the details of her disheveled blouse, the dirt, and the worsening injuries.
Then she spoke.
"Kiyoshi."
She turned her head slightly, her face gentle, without regret.
"I don't regret meeting you."
He answered in a flat voice.
"It's lunchtime."
She smiled.
And then she was gone.
Even then, Kang Woojin did not react. His expression remained unchanged, his breathing steady as he stared at the empty railing.
After a moment, he slowly began folding his fingers, one by one, quietly murmuring names under his breath as if listing them.
Then someone burst onto the rooftop.
"Did you see it?"
"Yes."
"Heh, I should've come sooner."
The boy walked over, laughing as he leaned over the railing.
"Wow, how does someone even— Aaaagh!!"
His scream cut off as he vanished.
Another scream followed from below.
Kang Woojin turned away without a change in expression and began walking toward the stairs. Only after descending did he finally speak, as if answering a delayed question.
"I regret it."
He unfolded his fingers, then quietly folded one down again.
"That's one."