Chapter 145

“Ne?”

“Or is this before the ‘Oh, really?’ incident even broke out in the Wasteland?”

The manager still tilted his head, clearly not understanding.

Roy saw that and became certain.

If the manager couldn’t grasp what he was saying, the idols and studios in the Wasteland must have escaped much of the public backlash.

‘Well, it makes sense. In the Wasteland, Awakeners make bigger headlines than idols.’

Even idols couldn’t complain as long as their souls were intact. Still, for fans who’d come all the way to a signing event, a bit more consideration would’ve been nice.

Roy couldn’t shake off a bitter feeling.

‘No, forget it. This isn’t even a real signing event anyway.’

At best, it was just staged. And from the script he’d skimmed, there were even less plausible scenes ahead.

If these were top idols, their faces would be plastered worldwide. The idea that adding a beauty mark under someone’s eye would render them unrecognizable was ridiculous.

Did the people of the Wasteland all suffer mass amnesia?

Especially the scene in the middle of the concert, where they pretended to suppress a Blood Fiend as part of the performance...

‘Even for a movie, that’s too far-fetched.’

Roy bowed his head and rubbed his forehead.

This movie... somehow, he just knew it wouldn’t turn out well.

‘How much did the production budget run?’

Of all things, it was being produced by their own group’s affiliate. It felt personal, and he couldn’t help but worry.

“Cut! One more take.”

With the director’s cue, the third take began. Staff bustled about, readjusting the set lights.

Roy lifted his head to see Han Gyeol returning to his spot, grinning after rushing out of the signing venue at news of a Blood Fiend’s appearance. He winked at Roy, striking a pose.

“Ah! My eye!”

Roy screamed and squeezed his eyes shut, drawing everyone’s attention.

Regardless, Roy snapped back to reality. This wasn’t the time to lose focus.

‘Re-awakening...! That slacker needs to re-awaken, and fast.’

Han Gyeol still didn’t know he’d awakened—Roy hadn’t bothered to tell him.

He had a year-end health checkup scheduled soon. If he could re-awaken him before then, Han Gyeol would find out naturally.

But how to make it happen?

Han Gyeol had just jumped up and bolted out of the signing venue again.

“Were you really in that much of a hurry? Haha... you’ve been complaining about stomach pain.”

A remaining member delivered his line. The extras playing fans murmured among themselves, and then the director’s booming voice rang out.

“Cut! Okay, let’s move!”

At that cue, the staff sprang into action. Roy turned to his manager.

“Move on? Is it already over?”

“Yes. That scene is done.”

“So what’s the next scene?”

Roy had been hoping they’d shoot an action scene outdoors.

“An action scene.”

Oh! Action?

✧

They arrived at the chroma-key studio one floor below. Roy surveyed the all-green walls and ceiling, lost in nostalgia.

‘It’s been a while.’

Back in the Shooting Star days, he visited this place at least once a year.

Not just visited—while others shot music videos abroad, Roy and his brothers had to roll around on this very floor.

Seeing Roy’s interest, the manager—assuming it was Roy’s first time here—prompted,

“This is where we come for action shoots. First time?”

Roy hesitated, then shrugged.

“No. I know it well.”

“You’ve been here before?”

“Yeah, sort of.”

Roy smiled cryptically and watched Han Gyeol being wired up. Among scattered concrete rubble and twisted girders, Han Gyeol stood, and Roy felt transported back to the music video shoots.

‘Just like back then.’

Roy chuckled, then remembered this was Han Gyeol’s first action scene. He’d heard action shoots came late in the schedule to allow time for recovery if an injury occurred.

‘Yet today’s his first go and he seems totally unfazed.’

During music video shoots, Han Gyeol had barricaded himself in a corner rather than perform stunts, causing his members trouble.

‘In times like this, he seems like a totally different person...’

Roy crossed his arms, tilting his head. Though “My Favorite Hiding Her Power” wasn’t pure action, the protagonist being an Awakener meant he had substantial stunt work.

Roy hoped his teasing didn’t end with Han Gyeol getting hurt.

“Don’t use a stunt double?”

“No. Han Gyeol’s a perfectionist. Even for dangerous moves, he insists on doing them himself.”

He’d trained regularly and shown talent at action school, so they trusted him.

“You work out often, then?”

“Of course. Actors must maintain their fitness.”

After awakening at F-rank, Han Gyeol had felt helpless. Roy was relieved he had decent athleticism.

Turning back, Roy saw Han Gyeol on the wire, practicing jumps repeatedly, showing no sign of fear.

‘He’s got guts, too.’

He seemed excited—Roy thought he might need to calm down a bit. If his rank improved, he could outmatch Hojin as an asset.

Just then, the director called out,

“Han Gyeol, ready for rehearsal?”

“Yes~”

Han Gyeol was already standing on the rigging platform, looking down. A staff member gave the wire a final check and raised a hand to signal the start.

“Ready, action!”

At the cue, Han Gyeol leapt. The taut wire hoisted him into the air in an instant. He drew the pole marked with a plus-shaped tracking marker from his waist, spun it with flair, executed a midair flip, and landed cleanly.

Despite the difficulty, he nailed it, and applause erupted on set.

“Ha! That was nothing~”

Han Gyeol grinned so widely his cheeks looked permanently raised. When he glanced at Roy and saw Roy frozen with his mouth agape, he burst out laughing.

“Puhat! Why are you so shocked?”

He laughed wholeheartedly, then blushed at acting in front of a real Awakener. The staff, believing Roy was still F-rank, took it as friendly banter.

“Haha! You look surprised.”

“Roy, you’ll get dust in your mouth~”

“By the way, Han Gyeol, you didn’t secretly awaken, did you? You’re moving differently.”

“Huh. Really awakened? But I do feel lighter today. It wasn’t like this in practice.”

Encouraged by the staff’s praise, Han Gyeol showed off even more.

“Whoosh, whoosh! How’s it look? Like I’m spinning the pole?”

As he toyed with the prop, everyone laughed.

“Puhaha! Too fast to see.”

“Even if we find out you’ve awakened, you must finish filming before we announce it. It’s forbidden until then!”

With the lighthearted teasing, Han Gyeol laughed louder. Roy’s face, however, grew paler.

‘Do they know something I don’t?’

Roy’s concern wasn’t the banter, but Han Gyeol’s unnecessarily showy moves.

‘What kind of hero traps Blood Fiends by doing acrobatics...?’

A jump, a forward roll, pole spinning. If he wanted to show off, was he more circus ringleader than Awakener?

Granted, the moves were clean—he really did know how to move his body. That much was fortunate.

But even with cinematic license, it was over the top. Like when villains in hero films patiently wait for the hero’s transformation.

‘Ugh. My head aches.’

Roy squeezed his eyes shut. While here, he’d temporarily switch off his brain.

“Ready to shoot?”

“Yes!”

At the director’s words, staff sprang into action. Han Gyeol’s one-man show was about to begin.

✧

“Ah!”

But to everyone’s surprise, Seo Han Gyeol’s show ended as soon as it started. His easy rehearsal success had him overconfident.

When the cameras rolled, he lost his balance on landing and fell, twisting his ankle badly.

“Han Gyeol!”

“Han Gyeol!”

The manager and staff rushed over, and Roy sighed, rubbing his forehead. He’d known the clumsiness would catch up with him.

Off to the side, the head of Han Gyeol’s action school knelt down to examine his ankle.

“Does it hurt?”

“Ah...!”

The man palpated the joint, then spoke with a stern expression.

“Luckily it doesn’t seem broken, but I don’t think you can shoot today.”

“Oh dear, that’s trouble.”

A mix of relief and worry rippled through the staff. Han Gyeol’s schedule was packed until year’s end—rescheduling was nearly impossible.

Plus, they aimed for a Chuseok release next fall, leaving no room for delay.

Han Gyeol, aware of all this, forced a smile and tried to brush it off.

“I’m fine. Director, I can still do it.”

But when he tried to stand, the manager pressed on his shoulder sternly.

“No. If you push yourself and make it worse, it’ll be a bigger problem. Let’s go to the hospital first. I’ll see what I can adjust in your schedule—”

“Hyung, I really am okay.”

Han Gyeol stubbornly insisted, not wanting to be a burden. Roy watched silently, recalling Han Gyeol’s unmanageable timetable.

‘Can that even be adjusted?’

If it could, the manager wouldn’t have packed it so tightly. They’d already postponed whatever they could.

It was the fallout of Han Gyeol spending nearly a month holed up on the Star Hero set and in the dorms. He knew it and complied without complaint.

‘Poor kid.’

Roy eyed the deflated Han Gyeol. Soon, the staff huddled for a brief but serious discussion, then reached a decision.

“Let’s use a stunt double for today’s scene.”

They’d decided on a double. But then...

“Ah!”

Cursed studio or what? The action school head standing in as the double also misstepped and fell forward.