It wasn’t bad.
But it wasn’t anything to be amazed about, either.
It was too early to judge based on a single line.
Yet, sometimes, a truly gifted actor could make you feel something instinctive with just a single line.
“If he melted the director’s heart with just one line of acting, shouldn’t he be some kind of genius?”
Thinking that luck must have played too big a part, Seon Min-gi sneered inwardly.
Scene 1 of the First Act began right after the Main Character, Jinseong (Seon Min-gi), showcased a Spectacular Action Scene fending off an Evil Spirit, and then returned to his office, which doubled as the Rescue Organization’s Production Company Office.
As soon as he burst through the door, Jinseong coughed up blood, shocking Lee Jae-hyun (Taeha), who’d been guarding the office.
But to show that such events were almost routine, the scene continued as they discussed what to have for dinner.
Seon Min-gi’s portrayal of spitting blood was so realistic that everyone had to look up and check his condition.
In contrast, Taeha’s acting—asking in shock if he was alright—was merely decent.
Taeha continued the scene.
“What the hell is all this… At this rate, you’re going to die, hyung!”
“I won’t die.”
Seon Min-gi responded in a weak voice.
(Jinseong, though he just coughed up blood, acts as if nothing happened, wiping the blood off his mouth, trudges over to the sofa and sits. Jae-hyun, watching quietly, seems worried but soon grows silent…)
“You’d be better off dead.”
“‘Better off… dead?’ Did you just say that to me?”
“What? As if I’d tell you to go die, hyung? Come on, you must’ve misheard me. Sure, even if you spit blood here and there once every couple days, even if it’s a pain to mop the floor, how could I ever tell my savior to just die? To my savior, of all people!”
Taeha, who had been muttering dryly, suddenly shifted his tone and put on a playful air.
Despite the long lines, for a rookie, his acting was pretty impressive.
His vocalization, pronunciation, and expressions were all stable.
Still, it wasn’t enough to be called astonishing.
“Yeah. This level is good enough.”
Seon Min-gi accepted Taeha’s lines, thinking to himself.
“Savior?”
“That’s right. If you hadn’t straightened me out, I’d probably be here bleeding out on the floor. Or maybe I’d be making a sea of blood out on the street somewhere. That’s why you’re my savior, hyung.”
“Don’t say that.”
“What? Embarrassed because I acknowledged you?”
“The term ‘savior’… It’s blasphemy.”
“Wow. No wonder you used to be a Chief Priest, you’re really devout. Even though you were kicked out.”
“Enough. I’m hungry, let’s just order dinner.”
“You can eat right after spitting up blood? Or maybe you want to eat because your stomach’s empty. What should we order?”
“Kimchi Stew.”
“Ugh, of all things… Gotta mop even faster, then, leave no trace.”
According to the Script, after ordering Delivery with his Hyeondaepon, he was supposed to mop up the blood on the floor while delivering his lines.
Since it was a Script Reading sitting down, of course there was no actual action.
Yet it felt as if he was truly holding a mop and acting with it in hand.
“He’s really natural.”
Without any lines today, Han Woo-ri, who was essentially just here to show her face, even forgot to turn the pages of her Script, lost in watching Taeha’s performance.
Even with the considerable volume of lines, he never lost his breath or hit any awkward notes; everything flowed smoothly.
It was so natural, it felt more real than acting.
For Han Woo-ri, who always grew stiff when doing line readings, it was a truly enviable talent.
What was more surprising was that Taeha was performing alongside Seon Min-gi.
From the start until now, Seon Min-gi had lived up to his reputation with his acting.
In several scenes, Seon Min-gi’s outstanding performance so overwhelmed the Supporting Actors that it was obvious.
Yet Taeha, while harmonizing with Seon Min-gi, didn’t give off any sense of being overshadowed at all.
Scene 15, Scene 16, Scene 17…
As the reading went on, even those who’d been watching with folded arms, thinking “This much is just standard,” gradually began to acknowledge Taeha’s skill.
Some even began to think, maybe it really was his acting that caught the director’s eye.
They found themselves more and more absorbed in Taeha’s acting as time went on.
The more lines an actor exchanged with him, the quicker they realized it.
Even actors who usually couldn’t focus well unless it was on set found themselves completely drawn in when acting with Taeha.
So, with so many scenes between Taeha and himself, it was impossible for Seon Min-gi not to notice.
Seon Min-gi was acutely aware of what was happening.
“Is it because our chemistry keeps getting better?”
In fact, that in itself was surprising.
Even after being cast, he’d met and built rapport with the Female Lead in advance, but still hadn’t quite clicked with her.
It wasn’t Ju Hyo-jin’s problem, who played the Female Lead.
She was doing her part well enough.
She just wasn’t on Seon Min-gi’s level, and needed more time to match his rhythm.
“But why…”
Taeha seemed to know in advance exactly how Seon Min-gi would deliver his lines.
And even better, knew precisely how to respond.
“He must’ve analyzed the Script that thoroughly and has the skill to express it.”
But that alone wasn’t enough to explain why acting with Taeha made him more focused.
Im Mi-hee’s acting, with her incredible inner strength, could captivate anyone with just a single line.
And when acting with her, Seon Min-gi would feel a strange thrill and sense of elevation.
Amazingly, he was starting to feel those emotions while acting with Taeha.
It meant Taeha was immersing himself in the role just as deeply as Im Mi-hee.
That was what was creating their chemistry and concentration.
“At this level, he’s not just ordinary.”
Unavoidably, Seon Min-gi also found himself revising his thoughts about Taeha…
“Scene 50. Roadway.”
The voice of a Staff member reading off the scene number and location rang out.
At last, it was the Ending Scene of the First Act.
The actors, tense, fixed their eyes on the Script.
In the latter half of the First Act, Jinseong and Lee Jae-hyun chased after the Doctor, who was suspected as the culprit, in a tense car chase along the roadway.
Up to Scene 49, Jinseong crashed his car mercilessly into the Doctor’s car to stop him from escaping.
[S#50. Roadway /N
Jinseong’s car rams the Sports Car, which screeches to a halt. Jinseong and Jae-hyun get out to check the Sports Car.
Jinseong roughly drags out the unconscious driver. Jae-hyun, crouched, checks the driver’s face…]
“Uh.”
“Shit. This bastard’s dead.”
Taeha announced the Doctor’s death in a startled, hollow voice, spitting out the curse.
Anger, a burning determination to uncover the truth and eliminate the true mastermind, and a touch of excitement at the unexpected turn of events—all these emotions were tangled up, and the madness was vividly conveyed.
“……!”
A shiver ran through them—a single line that felt entirely different.
Seon Min-gi, who hadn’t sensed anything like it at Taeha’s first line, felt the thrill now.
It was as if the Ending Scene could conclude right then and nothing would feel out of place.
Unconsciously, Seon Min-gi looked up at Taeha.
The moment their eyes met—Taeha’s sharp gaze truly looking at him as if acting—Seon Min-gi realized it.
Taeha was creating a climax, a rise and fall in the drama’s flow, solely through his acting.
“He controlled the intensity of his acting across the entire First Act.”
All to give the Ending Scene maximum impact.
The other actors and even the Staff in the back, feeling as if this were an actual set, focused entirely on the tension between Taeha and Seon Min-gi.
Feeling heat rise in his body, Seon Min-gi paused a moment before delivering his line.
The last line of the First Act.
If delivered wrong, it could come off as cheesy.
But Seon Min-gi’s performance diluted that.
Without exaggerating the rage that welled up from deep inside, he conveyed it with dry restraint.
“That bastard’s been here, the devil.”
Yet behind the dry voice, the anger was deep and chilling.
As expected of Seon Min-gi.
The actor who ended his long days of obscurity with nothing but his acting skills.
A strange tension hung in the air for a long moment on set.
It was the atmosphere created by the acting of Taeha and Seon Min-gi.
***
Today’s Script Reading was scheduled to go up to the Second Act.
So, after the First Act ended, everyone was given a break to regroup.
As the actors stood up one by one, Taeha rubbed his now-warm palms against his thighs, trying to loosen up.
“Guess this is about my level right now.”
His ability to immerse himself in acting, at this moment, was enough to make his palms heat up.
Maybe it was enough for others to feel drawn in, but Taeha knew.
“It’s not enough.”
After writing in this body, he could be sure.
When writing, heat had risen from his head to his toes.
Each character, each letter in the Script had sparked with life, and the vibrance in that writing far surpassed what Taeha now showed through acting.
“What would it be like if I could bring that level of immersion to acting too?”
The more he acted, the more greedy he seemed to become.
Having sorted out his thoughts, Taeha stood up and walked toward Im Chan-hyung, who was waiting for him.
That was when Im Mi-hee blocked his path.
Even in the busy, chaotic atmosphere, people’s attention focused on the two of them standing face-to-face.
“Your name was Kang Taeha, right?”
Her wrinkled eyes looked gentle and soft, but Im Mi-hee’s gaze was full of anticipation.
Though the question sounded a bit sharp, Taeha replied calmly.
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“I wanted to apologize for earlier.”
“…..!”
“Watching your acting, I could feel how much thought you put into this Script and your role. It was very impressive. Now I understand that the only reason Director Lee Hae-ik pushed so hard to cast you was simply because you impressed him.”
“Ah.”
“As I’ve gotten older, I find myself relying too much on my own experiences and making judgments too hastily out of arrogance. It’s why they say you should die if you get old.”
Everyone makes mistakes.
But the older you get, the harder it is to admit your own errors.
And it must have been even harder to apologize to a much younger actor.
Given her position, she didn’t even have to apologize.
That’s why, Taeha thought, she was so respected.
“Don’t say that. If you died because of me, how could I ever pay back that grudge?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You have to live a long and healthy life and keep acting. That way, I can keep learning from you. Thank you so much for saying such nice things… but I’m still lacking in so many ways.”
Im Mi-hee smiled at Taeha’s unexpected playfulness.
So that’s why he’s so good at sly, playful acting—his real nature is just as sly.
Those around them couldn’t hide their surprise.
Even veteran actors close to Im Mi-hee couldn’t act that familiar with her, given her usually stern atmosphere.
“If even Im Mi-hee acknowledges him, I guess he’s definitely achieved his goal.”
The fact that he’d acted well enough to convince people he’d be cast as Lee Jae-hyun was undeniable.
“Then surely, Seon Min-gi won’t look down on me anymore.”
Taeha thought.
But that was a complete miscalculation.