“Wow, that was seriously amazing! As expected of our blue-chip stock, Seo Hoyun~. If you shoot like that on set, huh?! All the PDs will flip out!”
“If I actually shoot like that, of course they’d flip out.”
“...Ah, right.”
During filming, there was no need to actually shoot arrows—just posing would be enough, and CG would be layered in perfectly. Still, thanks to showing real archery skills, he was spared from the manager’s endless nagging and overblown worries.
The manager kept pouring out exclamations of wonder, asking how Hoyun could be so good, but Hoyun brushed it off with a faint smile.
‘I can’t exactly say, “This is my second life, and back when I had the idol job in my first run, I practiced while preparing for *Victory Is Mine.”’
“Hoyun, let’s go inside!”
“Yes, thank you for your hard work....”
With no more schedules left, he returned to the apartment where he had first opened his eyes in this world.
Just before going inside, he quickly stopped the manager.
The manager might be incompetent and overly kind, but that also made him sociable and well-connected in the industry.
“Hey, Manager. Could you find out some information about a friend named Sung Jiwon?”
“Hm? Who?”
He hadn’t managed to track down all of The Dawn’s members, but Sung Jiwon had once been a rookie under a big company. He had been somewhat well-known, so there might be news floating around.
It was worth trying—nothing to lose.
“There was a trainee at D.go named Sung Jiwon. He might be with another company now.”
“Why him?”
“There’s something I need to check.”
The manager looked puzzled but nodded.
After watching the van leave the parking lot, Hoyun went upstairs and sprawled onto the sofa.
He felt tired and drained, even though he hadn’t really done much.
On top of that, lately he found it strangely uncomfortable whenever the house was too quiet.
‘Tch, forget it.’
He’d try to pry something out of Min Jiheon later. Surely at least some small clue would come out.
Originally, Hoyun thought the one who remembered him was obviously his younger brother Seo Hojin, but since Hojin had vanished, the next likely candidate was Min Jiheon.
Even if it wasn’t him, Jiheon saw far more than Hoyun could. Shaking him down would yield something.
Hoyun decided to probe him during the upcoming filming. He picked up the script again.
‘No matter how many times I read this, it just pisses me off.’
Dead after Hope.
The role he was cast in, Kim Wooho, was described as being 25 in the story. At 18, he had competed in the Olympics and won a gold medal, and four years later he had claimed another gold medal—a genius archer.
“But why the hell is the name like this?”
Didn’t it seem suspiciously derived from “Hoyuhou”?
Feeling uneasy, he frowned as he read on.
It said Wooho had a likable face that swept the nation’s love, conquering variety shows and CFs alike.
But during the height of his popularity, he had been in a car accident, severely injuring his arm, ending his career as an archer, and was now portrayed as someone drifting emptily through each day.
But what really bothered him was—
[The group of survivors argued over who should go outside to scavenge food. A cowardly college student pushed a child forward, trying to send the kid out instead....]
[Kim Wooho: (kicks the college student in the back) You’re going first? Thanks.]
The personality of the role.
A foul-mouthed bastard who showed no mercy to anyone that got in his way.
“Wow....”
Even when pretending to be an ally, he’d flip on them in a second, shamelessly using people and then discarding them.
A strange sense of déjà vu hit him as he checked through all the pages of the episode 2 script he had received.
Pressing his fingers against his brow, he muttered inwardly.
It reminded him of when he first read the script for Bring Me the Camera.
“They copied my life again.”
If Lee Junghoon’s role had mirrored his past job and personality, Kim Wooho mirrored his personality and family background.
[Kim Wooho: I’m going to find my little brother.]
Wooho had lost his parents in an accident.
He was surrounded by shitty relatives, and the only real family he recognized was his younger brother.
And amidst the chaos caused by zombies, he fought desperately to find him.
...And so on. A story he’d seen far too many times before.
‘So this is another fragment, huh.’
Something about fragments of existence leaking through? Whatever it was, it seemed possible, since he had ended up here through an error.
Just then, an alarm rang and a quest window popped up.
Quest arrival!
Begin the first filming of “Dead after Hope”! ^^
Thump-thump, the start is always exciting!
Arrive at the set and safely complete the first filming.
Complete first filming 0/1
Reward: 10,000 points
Failure: Error processing will be delayed.
The situation had plenty to dislike, but at least the point rewards weren’t bad.
Hoyun shut the script with a snap and smirked.
***
“Hello~.”
“Hello!”
Early in the morning, the Dead after Hope set was already bustling. Hoyun walked past the busy staff, greeting each person he passed.
“Ah! Hoyun-ssi, today’s your first shoot, right?”
“Yes, hello.”
Maybe the fake friendliness he’d shown at the Chinese restaurant had paid off—most people greeted him warmly.
“How’s your archery practice going?”
“I just worked hard at it.”
The manager beside him gave him a strange look, but Hoyun ignored it and scanned the set.
“What about Min Jiheon?”
In acting, Min Jiheon was always serious. Unless something special happened, he was usually the first to arrive and prepare.
But today, he wasn’t there.
“Ah! Jiheon’s previous schedule was overseas, so he said he’d be a little late. Should be within an hour or so.”
“I see. Thank you.”
After thanking them, Hoyun went to the waiting room for makeup. He already had basic makeup on, and his early scenes didn’t require special effects, so it finished quickly.
“Wow, your skin practically glows from beneath! You could be an idol!”
“Hahaha, you’re joking.”
Checking his intentionally disheveled hair in the mirror, the makeup staff leaned in and whispered.
“Um, Seo Hoyun-ssi.”
“Yes?”
“I wasn’t sure if I should mention this, but I think you should know....”
A single layer of goodwill did wonders. Just smiling quietly made information fall into his lap.
“You know actor Lee Kangseok, right?”
Of course he knew. Lee Kangseok—his precious carrot cake.
“You should be careful. I heard the role of Kim Wooho was offered to him too. Maybe that’s why... he seems to be keeping an eye on you.”
“Ah, really?”
Hoyun remembered Kangseok making a carrot cake by hand and offering it to Min Jiheon, and a smile spread across his lips.
“Thanks for worrying. It’s probably just a rumor.”
“Oh, come on! Seo Hoyun-ssi, how are you supposed to survive in this world if you’re this naive?”
“Hahaha, what can you do.”
Ding!
[Disgusting.......]
Shut up, I’m image-making right now.
At that moment, the set grew even noisier than before.
“Hello!”
“Wow, it’s Min Jiheon.”
“Unbelievable.”
Turning his head, Hoyun saw Jiheon just stepping inside.
“Insane. Absolutely insane. He’s too handsome. Not a single blemish, his face looks sculpted.”
The makeup staff mumbled in awe, dazed.
Was it really that shocking? His face didn’t look that different.
“Hello, I’ll be in your care again today.”
Polite as always, Jiheon headed straight for his waiting room. Compliments trailed behind him.
“I’ll be going now.”
Hoyun quickly checked his outfit and made for Jiheon’s room.
Knock knock. When he opened the door, Jiheon’s manager looked up, startled.
“Oh? Seo Hoyun-ssi? What brings you here...?”
“Sorry for barging in.”
Being from the same company, the manager at least recognized his face.
Hoyun wore his external smile.
“May I speak to Senior Jiheon for a bit?”
“Oh, really? Well....”
He glanced between Jiheon and Hoyun, then scratched his head.
“Alright, I’ll step out for a while. You two can talk.”
He hesitated, but since they were in the same agency, there couldn’t be any serious issue. Jiheon’s manager left, and Hoyun pulled over a folding chair, sitting across from Jiheon.
With a faint frown, Jiheon gave him a once-over.
“Senior.”
Hoyun crossed his arms and casually crossed one leg over the other.
“How could you not send me a single text? I thought you’d contact me first.”
It had already been a week since he arrived.
Nothing had progressed. Jiheon had been silent as well.
“I just had a few questions. We’ve got time before filming starts, so—”
“Seo Hoyun-ssi.”
Jiheon cut him off coldly.
When Hoyun raised an eyebrow, Jiheon rubbed his lips with his fingers, chuckling as if exasperated.
“Were we ever that close?”
“......”
“Counting today, I’ve only seen you twice in my life.”
...Was he really serious?
This bastard had to be hiding something.
“But it’s kind of strange. You’re a type I’ve never met before.”
Hoyun studied his face, trying to read his intentions, but Jiheon tilted his head.
“When we first met, I didn’t think much. But now, you look different. ...If you’d been like this before, I’d have remembered right away.”
He repeated exactly what he’d said the first time they met.
“Well... not that it matters to me.”
His eyes lazily scanned Hoyun’s face as he added in a flat tone:
“So, what business do you have?”
The guy who used to blabber about nothing but siblings, food, and acting—grinning like a fool—was now cold as ice.
It could still be acting, but there was no reason for Jiheon to deceive him this deeply.
‘Should I just tell him the truth?’
We know each other. I need your help.
Given Jiheon’s natural ability, he’d probably accept even an irrational explanation.
“...Nothing.”
But Hoyun didn’t hesitate long.
“Sorry, Senior. I must have ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ been mistaken.”
“...Ahh....”
Jiheon gave a delayed murmur, clearly suspicious.
“Mistaken, huh. Strange. Then why do you treat me like we’re close?”
“How could that be.”
Hoyun brushed it off smoothly.
If Jiheon truly didn’t know, then Hoyun had to play dumb as well.
He could dig up information some other way.
“I’ll get going now. Please prepare well for your scenes, Senior.”
Hoyun stood, returned the chair, then turned back as if remembering something.
“Oh, right! Senior Jiheon.”
He casually stroked his bare wrist and smirked.
“Your wrist looks clean today.”
“...Excuse me?”
“You know, that thing you’re always wearing.”
Hoyun clearly saw his face stiffen.
“Well then, let’s do well in filming.”
Though Jiheon quickly returned to his usual demeanor, Hoyun was already satisfied with seeing him caught off guard.
He strolled out toward his own waiting room.
“Seo Hoyun-ssi, we’re about to start filming!”
“Yes!”
“Hm? You seem to be in a good mood.”
“Hahaha.”
Hoyun was humming.
If things went well, he might finally get to screw over that sly fox Min Jiheon.
And if he was lucky—
“Do I look that way?”
He might even get closer to an answer he hadn’t been able to reach before.
