Chapter 166

After parting with Roy, Seo Han Gyeol still couldn’t claw his way back to reality.

He had dropped Roy off in front of the school, and once he was alone again, he parked by a nearby park and sat blankly in the driver’s seat.

What is all this?

It felt like the world was playing a trick on him.

Then a sudden thought struck—maybe this was a hidden-camera prank—and he started searching every corner of the car.

Of course there was no camera. This wasn’t a prank; this was actually happening.

“I...”

He had really awakened.

Sure, there was a time he’d done all sorts of nonsense with Roy, saying he would awaken no matter what.

But looking back now, he was clearly under some kind of spell then.

If he’d taken even a moment to think calmly, he would’ve seen how ridiculous it all was.

And that wasn’t all. Letting his kid brother sweep him up into nonsense had ended in disaster.

Vasovagal syncope.

He’d endured any schedule since childhood as an actor, but during awakening training he’d finally collapsed.

So after that day, Han Gyeol had dropped the idea of becoming an awakener without a second thought.

And now... you’re telling me it actually worked?

It was impossible to believe.

Staring blankly at the wheel, he pulled out his phone.

Why are there so many calls...?

[Manager 52]

[Boss 24]

...

[Wasteland Daily Reporter Kim 3]

Mixed among the saved contacts were numbers he didn’t recognize; apparently his number had already leaked.

More than anything, a bad feeling prickled up his spine.

If the company was calling this much...

No way.

He hurried onto a portal app.

Of course—the front page carried a massive photo of him in a cap and mask.

[Seo Han Gyeol—why did he show up at the Detention Bureau?]

[Photos of “Seo Han Gyeol at the Bureau” spread, fueling suspicion of an awakening test; First: “We’re checking the facts.”]

[The “Seo ○ Gyeol” who appeared at Awakening24—is he the actor Seo Han Gyeol? All but confirmed.]

Even with his face covered, someone had recognized him.

He was so sure he’d slipped out the back with Roy’s help without being seen, but the internet had already been buzzing long before that.

Judging by the dozens of missed calls on his screen, they’d probably come while he was talking with Roy.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

He wanted to call back, but his battery was on its last legs.

More than that, his mind was a mess—he hadn’t even accepted reality himself. Even if he went to the company like this, what could he possibly do?

No—can I do anything at all?

He’d thought about becoming an awakener, but now that he actually was one, it felt... off.

It wasn’t pure joy. It felt like his entire life so far had been rejected in one stroke.

A wave of gloom crashed over him at the thought that the filmography and popularity he’d fought tooth and nail to build might no longer light his way.

The master of Korean cinema, Director Etsu—he was about to cast me as his new male lead... I could’ve gone to America too...

“Kh—!”

Thinking of the blockbuster that had slipped away the moment he awakened, Han Gyeol folded over the steering wheel.

[Honk!]

The horn jolted him back to himself.

Right. What’s done is done.

There’s no undoing it now.

Was he going to march into the Bureau and ask them to take his awakening back? Then what?

He tossed his now-dead phone onto the passenger seat and started the engine.

If you can’t run, you crash through.

It was time to go deal with the penalties.

✧

First Entertainment.

Meanwhile, his agency was thrown into chaos by the sudden news.

“Actor Seo Han Gyeol awakened? That’s groundless.”

“It’s still under review, so we can’t comment.”

[ring ring!]

[riiing!]

Phone bells rang nonstop all over the office.

Reporters from newspapers, TV stations, and portals—and even fans—were calling in, pushing everyone to the brink.

The PR team, phones glued to their ears, repeated the same lines dozens of times, while managers ran between the meeting room and the floor, voices raised.

“Still no contact with Han Gyeol?”

“I’ve been calling over and over—he won’t pick up.”

“Just pull the phone lines!”

First’s flagship star.

And not just any star—the most in-demand leading man in the country—was rumored to have awakened.

True or not, it was the sort of thing that could shake the industry.

And the person at the center of it all wasn’t answering.

The air in the office grew tighter and tighter—when the boss’s door swung open.

Unlike the flustered staff, the Boss looked surprisingly calm.

“Team lead, a moment.”

He beckoned to the PR head, who’d frozen with a cable yanked halfway out of the wall.

What was he going to say?

Employees glanced toward the boss’s office, curious. Moments later, the door opened again—already done.

“What did he say?”

“Did he get through to Han Gyeol?”

The team lead returned to his desk wearing an awkward smile instead of an answer.

He tapped a few keys, glanced at the screen, then let out a disbelieving little laugh.

There was a thread of defeat in it.

People drifted over to look.

On the team lead’s laptop was a Wasteland Daily article, and the headline was a gut-punch.

[First’s official stance: “We can’t reach Seo Han Gyeol at present... If he has awakened, that’s something to celebrate.”]

“What... is this, sir?”

“I don’t know. Kim, go ask the Boss?”

Since when did any agency issue an official statement like that?

Stupefied and deflated, the staff were at a loss for words.

Just then, the glass door at the entrance opened, and a very welcome face appeared.

He wore his cap low and a mask, but no one here would fail to recognize him.

Everyone in Korea who’d been desperately waiting for him was gathered in this one place.

“The office is... quieter than I expected?”

He’d been sure it would look like a war zone; the unexpected calm threw him off instead.

Maybe this wasn’t as big a deal as he thought...?

The thought had barely formed when his manager’s eyes met his—then pinched tight as a finger stabbed the air at him.

“Hey, you!”

Right. Of course not.

Awakening wasn’t a crime, but he couldn’t help hanging his head.

“Haha... Manager...”

With dozens of eyes fixed on him, Han Gyeol struggled to open his mouth.

No matter what he said, he couldn’t give them the answer they wanted.

He decided to take the clean, straight-on route—just then, the boss’s door opened and the Boss stuck his head out.

“You’re here?”

He flinched.

Locking eyes with the Boss, Han Gyeol jerked without meaning to.

He’d hoped to put off this encounter as long as possible.

“If you’re here, come in.”

✧

Thus began the second sit-down.

After the meeting with Roy—who had appeared overnight as a Detention Bureau team leader—this time it was a face-to-face with the Boss.

“Um... Boss.”

“Congratulations.”

All the lines he’d rehearsed on the way there evaporated—because that was the first thing he heard the moment he sat down.

Han Gyeol went blank.

He hadn’t said anything yet—why was that the response? He looked at the Boss, who leaned back and studied him.

“If it weren’t you, with your personality, you would’ve blurted it out the moment we met.”

“...”

“It is surprising, though.”

He himself was rattled; for the Boss, it must have felt like a bolt from a clear sky.

There were dozens of scripts waiting for Han Gyeol, plus a project already shooting, and a commercial that had wrapped just yesterday.

There were more than three commercials waiting to shoot.

Untangling all of that would be a headache for the Boss.

“I’m sorry.”

He offered the apology, hesitant.

The Boss cut him off, firm.

“What are you sorry for? It’s something people should congratulate you for.”

Then he pivoted straight to the practical.

“We’ll get a statement out today. I’ve ordered a review of the contracts for the current projects and ads—we’ll start clearing the ones without issues, one by one.”

Why is he this unruffled?

His handling was almost too natural, like he’d already known this was coming.

Han Gyeol just stared, dazed, and the Boss paused mid-sentence and looked back at him.

“What? If you’ve got something to say, say it now.”

“Aren’t you... bothered that I’ve basically had to retire overnight?”

“...Should I be crying?”

The Boss looked more baffled by the question than anything.

“I spent years building you up and now you suddenly can’t work. You were on the cusp of going to America, and there were how many scripts on the table... And you can give that up—just like that?”

As Han Gyeol’s voice climbed, the Boss cut in, steady.

“Seo Han Gyeol. I never said I was giving up on you. After how I raised you?”

Up to now, the public had had a strong aversion to awakeners doing entertainment work.

Awakeners existed to hunt Blood Fiends, the argument went; once they got a taste for money, they’d forget their duty.

Considering that becoming an awakener wasn’t a matter of personal choice, it was a selfish line of thinking.

But after the success of Star Hero, that mood had begun to shift.

Plenty of people welcomed awakeners’ media exposure.

So while it might be hard right now, the day might come—sooner than later—when awakeners could naturally run parallel careers in entertainment.

And Han Gyeol’s grade wasn’t even high.

He was elemental, yes, but D-grade; with the timing right, he might even work full-time.

“Huh?”

This time, it was Han Gyeol who was thrown. He’d never expected that answer.

“If I don’t give up, what will you do? I already... signed with someone else.”

A real thunderbolt crashed over the Boss’s head.

“What?!”

What—only a few hours into awakening, and he’d already gone and signed somewhere else?