Chapter 186: Asian Film Festival

“Wow-”

Muyoung slightly parted his lips and peeked out the window. The area around the Film Hall, where the event was taking place, was packed with people, along with the sunlight glistening on the Suyeong River.

In the distance, the Gwangalli Sea, connected to the Suyeong River, was visible.

“I can really feel that we’re in Busan! The sea!”

At his words, Bora also poked her head out the window.

The sea was barely visible, like a tiny speck.

“You’ll probably faint if you see the real sea.”

“Should we go eat raw fish tonight?”

“Sure! Let’s eat by the sea!”

While Gyeongmin and the company staff were dividing up the schedule, Muyoung continued to look outside. It wasn’t quite at the level of the Busan International Film Festival, but there were definitely a lot of people.

“Didn’t you say the opening ceremony was yesterday?”

Bora picked up a light summer suit jacket.

“Yeah, the opening ceremony is at night, so the schedule didn’t match. Today, we just have to do two rounds of Street Sunlight screenings. One at the Film Hall and one at the department store.”

The festival wasn’t held in just one building. All the movie theaters in Centum City were mobilized for the event. In terms of distance, they were quite close, so it seemed like we could even walk.

“What time?”

“Lunch and dinner. But in between, there’s a podcast event called ‘Filmmakers’ Gathering.’ That’s when we’ll see Teacher Jinrim. Eat now, or you might not be able to eat until the afternoon.”

“You should eat too, hyung and noona.”

“We have our own food.”

At Muyoung’s words, the company staff shook their hands in refusal.

The events weren’t particularly physically demanding. But having left Seoul early in the morning, after lunch, they had to keep moving constantly, no matter how small the task.

“Take care of yourselves first.”

“Yeah, if we hold out, the rest of you will too.”

Bora took the bread Muyoung had handed her and put it in his mouth. He chewed silently and nodded.

“You’ll meet a lot of people as you move around.”

“So, stay alert and be careful?”

Senior actors, directors, industry people…

It was a gathering of filmmakers from all over Asia, not just Korea. It was a reminder to behave without making mistakes.

“We’re here. Let’s get off.”

Squeak!

As the car entered the Film Hall, security guards approached.

Muyoung got out first and escorted Bora, and the reporters and fans cheered warmly.

“Oh! Look, it’s Ha Muyoung!”

“Wow! Ha Muyoung, Kang Bora!”

“Bora! Bora!”

“Oh, is Street Sunlight playing in Theater G right now?”

“Let’s go see if there are any tickets left.”

Click! Click!

The two waved at the cameras with bright smiles. The inside of the building was a bit quiet. As they were about to head up to the theater without much thought…

“Huh? Oppa.”

Bora tugged at the manager’s arm and asked,

“Isn’t that Director Kang Homuk in the blue shirt over there?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Just a moment. Muyoung, come with me.”

A director chatting with some associates. He was facing away, but it looked like there were a few actors mixed in. As Bora pulled Muyoung’s arm and approached, Director Kang Homuk looked surprised.

“Oh!”

“Hello, Director Kang Homuk. I’m Kang Bora.”

“Hello. I’m Ha Muyoung.”

“I know, I know! Oh, you’re here for Street Sunlight? Nice to meet you. Thanks for saying hello first, that’s really nice!”

“No problem, Director. I’m a big fan. It’s an honor to meet you.”

Bora spoke politely and warmly. They greeted each other warmly and introduced themselves. They seemed very close, as if they had worked together on a project.

One of the young men offered Muyoung a handshake.

“Hello. I really enjoyed your movie.”

“Oh. Thank—”

At that moment,

Muyoung sensed a smog-like aura swirling behind him. Startled, but trying not to show it, he smiled even wider and added,

“Thank you.”

“You’re really on a roll these days. Blade Track too. You’re so lucky. Only two or three years since your debut… That’s amazing.”

The man didn’t introduce himself, assuming Muyoung would know him. Muyoung simply replied softly,

“I’ve been lucky.”

“Well, luck is a skill too.”

After a few more meaningless exchanges, Gyeongmin checked his watch and asked Director Kang Homuk for permission.

“Excuse me, we’re running out of time.”

“Oh! Right! We need to head in too. It was nice meeting you. Let’s do this again sometime!”

“Yes, Director. Thank you. Go ahead.”

“Thank you.”

Bowing politely, Muyoung and Bora turned to leave. Muyoung covered his nose and mouth with his hand, and Bora asked worriedly,

“What’s wrong? Did Kim Guun smell bad?”

“Huh? Kim Guun?”

“The person you just met. Actor Kim Guun.”

“Oh, no. I think I just got indigestion from eating bread in the car. Did I make a mistake?”

“Not at all. I just asked because you covered your face.”

Muyoung replied nonchalantly.

The theater was already filled with audience members. The two entered to cheers and flashes, and soon the event proceeded without issue.

But…

‘Wow, what’s with all this smog around me?’

The smog emanating from the people they met was considerable.

By ratio, at least one in every five or six people seemed to be emitting an ominous aura.

In contrast, the pollen seemed to have dried up.

“Teacher Jinrim!”

“Oh my, Bora. You’ve gotten even prettier.”

Lost in thought, Muyoung looked up at Bora’s call. Teacher Jinrim had arrived for the ‘Filmmakers’ Gathering’ podcast.

They had appeared together in Street Sunlight, but due to scheduling conflicts, they couldn’t do the stage greeting together.

“How have you been, Muyoung?”

“I’m doing well, thanks.”

“What were you thinking about so deeply?”

“I think he has an upset stomach.”

“Oh my. Maybe you should have some soda.”

“Can I get you something to drink, Teacher?”

“I’ll have some barley tea.”

Bora quickly got up and ran to the opposite hallway.

The podcast had prepared drinks and snacks, beautifully arranged.

“Are you okay? You must be exhausted from Blade Track. The younger you are, the more you need to take care of your health. Otherwise, you’ll crash when you’re older.”

“Yes, now that it’s over, I have some time to relax.”

“Good. That’s a relief.”

Teacher Jinrim patted Muyoung’s back like a grandson. It was as if she were saying, don’t hold back if you’re struggling.

Perhaps that’s why Muyoung found himself confiding the worries he’d been carrying all day.

“Teacher, actually, things around me feel a bit strange.”

“Hmm? What do you mean?”

“Before, it felt like only good things would happen, but lately, it’s the complete opposite… It’s a bit…”

“Ahaha. Isn’t that natural?”

As he struggled to find the right words, Teacher Jinrim gave an unexpected answer. It was a vague response, but as a senior actor, she immediately understood her junior’s concerns.

It was the pressure.

“Huh?”

“You’re a star now.”

As Muyoung’s eyes widened, Teacher Jinrim chuckled. As if to say, is there a more naive kid than this?

“There aren’t many works that can make a rookie shine. But are there as many works that can solidify a rising actor’s position?”

“Umm…”

Of course not.

There are actors who survive for decades. Teacher Jinrim, standing right in front of him, was a testament to that history.

When she was young, there were countless actors more popular than her. But to the current generation, they were nothing more than forgotten fragments of the past.

“The higher you climb in this industry, the harder it gets. Some say that once you’re famous, you have no problems, but that’s only about making a living. As an actor’s achievements are separate, we must continually prove our worth.”

At some point, you’ll feel the need to slowly come down.

Of course, for Muyoung, this was a distant future concern, but as he kept breaking records, the pressure must have been overwhelming.

Jinrim’s slightly off-the-mark comfort was surprisingly clear.

“And the brighter someone shines, the deeper the shadows around them grow.”

‘So that’s it. That’s why.’

The decreasing pollen and the increasing smog.

The higher he climbed, the more people there would be wanting to pull him down.

‘Come down,’ they’d say, ‘and let us take your place.’ It meant that while they smiled on the surface, behind their backs, they were wielding knives.

“…But I can keep going, right?”

Continuing to do well.

At Muyoung’s words, Jinrim nodded firmly.

“Of course. Meeting a good project is an actor’s fortune. Just keep doing what you’re doing, Muyoung. Didn’t you say it before? That you want to act until you die.”

“Yes. If I can, that’s what I want.”

“If you’re willing to risk your life, who would dare stand in your way?”

Teacher Jinrim gently tapped Muyoung’s cheeks.

It was a gesture filled with affection. Bora, returning with drinks and snacks, asked with a smile,

“What were you talking about?”

“Oh, just that the more successful you are, the more you have to endure.”

“Muyoung, why? Are you reading comments these days? Don’t pay attention to that stuff.”

“I don’t. I don’t even have time.”

Muyoung smiled and took a drink.

Now that he understood the meaning of the increased smog, there was no need to worry. As always, he’d just avoid it.

“Teacher Jinrim! Muyoung! Bora!”

“We’re ready to start recording!”

“You’ve all received your scripts, right?”

“Oh, yes!”

The staff bustled about, preparing for the recording. The three sat around the table, put on their headsets, and began reading the script as if rehearsing. Since they had already worked together, their conversation flowed naturally.

“Okay! Cut! Thank you!”

“Great job, everyone!”

“Whew. That was exhausting.”

Muyoung headed up to his hotel room, rubbing his face dry.

The schedule had run later than expected, causing him to miss dinner. Bora had gone off to a drinking party at some director’s invitation.

They planned to see the sea tomorrow, and she apologized profusely, but Muyoung was actually relieved. He was exhausted from dodging smog all day.

“You look really tired. Even more than when you pulled all-nighters. And we just went around theaters.”

Gyeongmin, carrying Muyoung’s clothes, tilted his head in confusion. Bora, who had been with him all day, was energetic enough to go drinking, but Muyoung’s state was puzzling.

‘They don’t know what the smog means…’

It was unlikely, but what if someone really rushed at him like a stranger? He was drained from staying tense.

“Go in and rest. We start late tomorrow afternoon.”

“Yes. What about you, hyung?”

“I’ll go pick up Bora later.”

“Got it. I’ll rest first then.”

“Okay. Oh!”

Click.

As Muyoung entered his room, Gyeongmin said,

“I put the script inside.”

“Script?”

He hadn’t realized, but it seemed he had been handing scripts to Gyeongmin while going around the event. Muyoung acknowledged and pushed the door open.

“Oh.”

Goodness.

Next to the soft orange lighting, the white bed was scattered with pollen. After seeing nothing but darkness all day, this sight was so welcoming!

“Woah!”

Thud!

Muyoung plunged onto the bed, rubbing his face against it.

It felt genuinely good. Though formless, the aura emitted by the phenomenon was definite—warm, clear, and soft.

“I’ve missed it. Truly.”

Muyoung identified the source of the pollen among the scripts on the table.

‘…Indulgence?’

It was a film script.

Rustle—

The very first line on the front page.

“God, I will commit two murders from now on?”

In an alternate South Korea where Roman Catholicism was the state religion,

The government, facing fiscal difficulties, revived the indulgences issued in the Middle Ages.

It became an era where any crime could be pardoned with money. And there was a man, Dokyung,

A world-renowned painter—

“It’s about a murderer?”

It was a work that would depict the life of a psychopath.