A Genius Actor Appears Out of Nowhere - Chapter 3

The department office of Donghan University’s Film Department.

Park Sang-hyun stepped into the room, which was cluttered with various filming equipment and props. With him was a man who looked like he had tumbled in out of nowhere.

“So, you’re an aspiring actor?”

Park Sang-hyun asked, sinking deep into the sofa in the department office.

“Yes. I’m an aspiring actor.”

The mysterious man sat down on the opposite chair. It was Bong Seong-hwa.

“What works have you appeared in?”

“None.”

“Were you originally acting?”

“Yes. I’ve always acted.”

“Then which university did you attend?”

“I didn’t go to college.”

“…I thought you said you were acting all along.”

“Yes. At home. Or at work. By myself.”

“…At work?”

“I worked at a nursing home. I put acting to good use while working there.”

“…Sigh.”

It was utterly absurd. What kind of credentials were these supposed to be? On top of that, he couldn’t even begin to grasp what putting acting to good use at a nursing home was supposed to mean.

Normally, Park Sang-hyun wouldn’t have given an actor with these qualifications a second glance.

Although he was still a college student and a novice who had yet to make his feature film debut, Park Sang-hyun was quite a big deal—at least within Donghan University. Among his peers, seniors, and juniors, no student possessed a better portfolio than Park Sang-hyun. He had already won multiple awards at prominent domestic and international short film festivals, and his name was gradually becoming known in the short and independent film scenes.

Thus, no matter how desperate he was, Park Sang-hyun was not someone who would pick up a random passerby from the street to use as an actor.

Except Bong Seong-hwa was different.

‘…Where was a mask like this hiding?’

The reason he hadn’t turned Bong Seong-hwa away when he approached, but instead brought him all the way to the department office, lay in that face.

Fundamentally, he was handsome. But on top of that handsome face, there was an extra spoonful of something more.

People often said top stars possessed an aura that set them apart. The very aura found only in top actors radiated from Bong Seong-hwa.

An enigmatic, bottomless face that seemed to convey an entire narrative just by looking at it. It was, without a doubt, the face of a born actor.

‘It’s surprisingly easy to find good actors, but a face like this is rare.’

In some ways, it was a asset far more precious than exceptional acting talent.

However, a face like that only had meaning if the acting met a basic standard. If he couldn’t even cover the basics, it would be worse than casting pearls before swine.

“I’m running extremely low on time, which is why I’m taking this meeting out of necessity. I don’t normally meet actors in such a rushed manner.”

“Yes. You mentioned that earlier. I completely understand.”

“Time is of the essence right now. If things slip up even a little, I’ll have to move on immediately to find the next actor.”

“I understand.”

“So please…”

Park Sang-hyun looked at Bong Seong-hwa and added his final words. It was a plea akin to a prayer.

“Please act well. I’m begging you.”

If this face could actually act well, then…

‘It would be a blessing in disguise.’

Because in terms of the film’s final quality, it might turn out even better than using Kang Woo-joo.

Bong Seong-hwa accepted the script handed over by Park Sang-hyun.

“The title of the work is Cutting Edge. It uses the characters for ‘sharp’ and ‘edge.’ It’s the same meaning as cutting-edge technology.”

Park Sang-hyun’s short film was titled Cutting Edge.

While its genre was drama, the setting contained elements of soft science fiction.

“It’s set in the near future, in a world where AI has replaced most jobs. The protagonist is a job seeker.”

Fortunately, the character Bong Seong-hwa was to play was not particularly difficult to understand.

Age: 27. Name: Park Hyeong-won. He was a college senior preparing for job employment.

The core of the story revolved around a young man in his twenties who slowly sinks into despair, unable to find his own worth or purpose in a future era where most career paths have been blocked off by artificial intelligence.

It was a nihilistic, gloomy work carrying a sharp message about the era. Put differently, it was precisely the kind of piece designed to catch eyes at film festivals.

“Read through it first, then tell me which scene you want to try acting out. If you need a reading partner, I’ll act opposite you.”

After saying that, Park Sang-hyun went silent as Bong Seong-hwa began concentrating on the script.

It took him about twenty minutes to finish reading the script.

“It’s interesting. It seems like a well-written script.”

“Well, yes. Naturally.”

He wrote it himself, after all. There was no way it was poorly written.

“Scene 22. The street in front of the club. I think I can try starting from there.”

“Ah, in that case, I’ll read the stage directions for you.”

Park Sang-hyun thought Bong Seong-hwa had picked a rather good scene.

For a short film, Scene 22 fell right around the timeline where the drama reached its climax and conflict erupted. In fact, Park Sang-hyun had written Scene 22 specifically as the plot point of the work.

‘It’s going to be hard to channel the emotions. Can he really pull it off?’

Whether it was a beginner’s reckless bravery or a master’s calculated choice would reveal itself now.

“Scene 22. The street in front of the club. Hyeong-won staggers out of the club.”

Park Sang-hyun read the action directions. From here on, it was time for acting.

Park Sang-hyun took his eyes off the script and looked at Bong Seong-hwa.

At that moment—

“…!”

Park Sang-hyun held his breath without realizing it.

“Gagh—!”

Bong Seong-hwa pushed himself up from his seat and covered his mouth as if dry-heaving. Grabbing the wall, he turned his head and emptied the contents of his stomach.

It was just a simple action. It didn’t require any special technique. Yet the street in front of the club vividly materialized right before his eyes.

“Ha… Unreal. What a fucking idiot…”

Park Hyeong-won leaned against the wall, muttering to himself.

He chuckled self-deprecatingly, only to display a hollow, empty gaze the next moment.

“What am I doing… What on earth am I doing… What… What do I even want to do?”

Thump— Thump— Thump— Thump—

He banged his head against the wall at a steady rhythm.

In his eyes, there was no hope. No desire. No dreams.

Traces of alcohol he hadn’t fully shaken off remained, along with a shadow that couldn’t be pushed away no matter what. Anxiety, anger, resentment, and resignation swirled together in a tangled mess.

“What am I… No, what on earth…”

Most of the dialogue in this scene was actually meaningless. Park Hyeong-won’s agony and struggle had already built up sufficiently through the preceding scenes.

In this scene, Park Hyeong-won had to completely break down. He had to go mad. He had to empty everything out until only hollow void remained.

It was the moment where acting alone had to maximize the message of the work.

And right now…

“It’s… It’s all meaningless anyway. None of it matters, so why—! For what—?!”

Thud.

A short scream escaped as he collapsed to his knees.

That shout felt as though it pierced right through the center of the heart. It sounded like the final scream of a soul crushed under the weight of the era.

An era without pain, without happiness, and without tension—where people merely chased fleeting pleasures that vanished in an instant, unable to pursue anything else.

It was Park Hyeong-won’s final scream—a man who had tried to find meaning in an era where meaning had vanished, only to end up completely ruined.

Now, he was entirely hollow. He had collapsed without leaving anything behind.

The angst and struggle accumulated throughout the work resolved completely at this instant, entering the grand finale.

Park Sang-hyun closed the script he was holding.

The entire film seemed to draw itself inside his mind—what shape this work would take when completed, what message it would convey, and ultimately, what kind of future it would bring him.

This wasn’t mere acting. It was a shocking, vivid reality where the scenario in the script unfolded right before his eyes.

To recreate this after merely skimming the script for twenty minutes… He couldn’t even imagine what a performance born of deep deliberation would look like.

“That’s… You can stop right there, Seong-hwa.”

He tried his best to steady his trembling voice.

“This is… This really is…”

A blessing in disguise? A four-character idiom like that wasn’t enough to summarize the thrill running down his spine.

Park Sang-hyun was someone who believed that film was ultimately the director’s art. Yet this acting was powerful enough to crack even that deep-seated belief.

The actor had raised the work to a whole new level.

Standing right there was not Bong Seong-hwa, but Park Hyeong-won himself. He had even brought the atmosphere of that club street into this very department office.

Rather than a script reading, it felt as though he had just witnessed a completed scene from a finished movie.

“Could you… take on the lead role for this project? Since we’re bringing in an outside actor, I’ll need to get separate approval… but that’s routine, so there’s no chance of it falling through.”

He offered Bong Seong-hwa the role, trying to maintain his usual tone. In truth, he wanted to kidnap him on the spot and sit him down in front of the camera, but he was desperately suppressing that urge.

However, the response that came back was a single line that completely snapped Park Sang-hyun’s thread of reason…

“Ah, but after doing the reading, I know for sure now. I don’t think this project is what I’m looking for. It’s regrettable, but I hope you find a good actor.”

“…?”

“The overall quality of the work was great. It’s just that I don’t think I suit this project.”

He was rejected. By an unknown aspiring actor with no credentials whatsoever, whom he had met for the very first time.

When that spot had originally belonged to a famous actor whose name anyone would recognize.

“Ah, my friend said his exam is over. I’ll be taking my leave now.”

Before Park Sang-hyun could even gather his shattered composure, Bong Seong-hwa stood up from his seat.

Park Sang-hyun felt his heart collapse even harder than when he heard the news of Kang Woo-joo’s arrest for drug use.

Bong Seong-hwa left the film department office. He then pulled out his phone and called Lee Jin-sung.

—Where are you? I told you to walk around campus. Did you leave?

“I told you, I’m still inside the campus.”

—Then why can’t I see you?

“I’m inside a building.”

—You went inside a building?

“Well, it’s a building where the department offices are gathered.”

—Ah, you must have gone to the Student Union. Let’s meet at the clock tower in front of it. I’ll head there now.

Since Seong-hwa had seen something resembling a clock tower on his way in, he easily reached the meeting spot.

“If it weren’t for you, I would’ve been in serious trouble. I barely turned in my test paper.”

“A zero-point test paper?”

“Hey, surprisingly, there were two whole questions I actually knew. It’s not zero points.”

“Look at you brag.”

“I told you, it’s a general education course where you just need credit. It’s a pass or fail subject.”

“There are classes like that?”

“College has all sorts of weird classes.”

Having somehow managed to clean up a major disaster, Lee Jin-sung seemed to be in a pretty good mood.

“Let’s eat meat. Meat! I’ll buy.”

“This early in the morning?”

“Ah, is that a bit much?”

“Forget it. Just buy me a cup of coffee.”

Just as they were about to leave the school campus…

“Boooong Seoooong Hwaaaa!”

From far away, a man was sprinting toward them, his long padded coat fluttering in the wind.

“…? What’s that? He looks like someone from the film department. Why is he shouting your name while running?”

“Ah, I clearly turned down his casting offer, though.”

“…What are you talking about?”

Lee Jin-sung couldn’t comprehend what on earth had transpired during the forty minutes he was taking his exam.

Stopping right in front of Bong Seong-hwa, Park Sang-hyun abruptly grabbed both of his hands.

“Seong-hwa! No! Actor Bong!”

“Yes?”

“…Actor?”

Lee Jin-sung was puzzled by the title ‘Actor,’ while Bong Seong-hwa was puzzled by Park Sang-hyun’s frantic breathing.

“A reason! Can’t you at least give me a reason?!”

“…A reason for what?”

“The reason my project won’t work!”

“I didn’t say your project wouldn’t work, though? I just said it isn’t the project I’m looking for.”

“Whatever it is! Just tell me why you won’t participate in my project. Can’t you at least let me know that? If it’s something I can fix, I want to try fixing it!”

Park Sang-hyun was desperate right now.

Having witnessed Bong Seong-hwa’s acting, even if Kang Woo-joo were released from the detention cell and became available to film this afternoon, it wouldn’t satisfy him anymore.

So even if it meant rewriting the story, he wanted to hold onto Bong Seong-hwa.

This was an alarm bell blaring from his director’s intuition: If you lose this actor, you will be taking a long, painful detour.

“Don’t alter your work just because of me. Shoot what you originally planned to shoot. It was already a high-quality script.”

“No! I can’t do that! Please tell me! This is a rational decision I made as a director!”

Seong-hwa hadn’t wanted to mess with a director’s work, so he found himself in a bit of a tricky situation. However, seeing him plead so earnestly, Seong-hwa felt he should at least make a suggestion.