Chapter 87: ???????????

Busan.

At last, the short film festival had officially begun.

Though it wasn’t a public holiday marked in red on the calendar, in the film industry, it was treated as an incredibly significant event.

The flood of news articles was proof of that.

[‘Busan International Short Film Festival’ Finally Opens]

[‘Going All Out for Guest Actors? They Really Pulled Some Strings.’]

[‘Japanese Master Director Yusaku Visits Korea.’]

And at this moment—

“…This building is huge. What’s its name? ‘The Cinema Center’?”

Wonsung-ing mumbled absentmindedly.

Contrary to her nickname, she had a rather plain appearance.

Her hair was dyed orange, and freckles dotted her cheeks, but thanks to her harmonious features, these traits weren’t seen as flaws. Instead, they felt like part of her overall style.

But Wonsung-ing wasn’t the only one standing here.

Sangji and Heukgom were there as well. In other words, all the members of the ‘Sua Chatroom,’ except for Saseum and Sua, had arrived at the short film festival.

The current time was 9 AM. The location—Busan Cinema Center.

Heukgom, revealing his closely shaved head, spoke.

“It’s been a long time since I last watched a movie.”

His voice had a quiet intensity to it, making him seem taciturn. His large build made his nickname, ‘Heukgom’ (Black Bear), suit him all the more.

Soon, Wonsung-ing scratched her head.

“This is my first time in Busan.”

Perhaps because she was so immersed in online communities, even her real-life speech sounded like a chat message.

“Me too. I feel like I can already smell the sea.”

Sangji, who had been watching them, burst into laughter.

“So, what do you want to do after watching the movie?”

“Hmm, we should definitely visit Haeundae Beach. Then eat some sashimi. Oh, and Saseum mentioned some famous pizza place?”

As they discussed their post-movie plans, Wonsung-ing suddenly switched topics.

She had a look on her face like she had just remembered something important.

“When is Saseum arriving?”

“She said she’ll come after work. Probably in the evening.”

“I heard Sua will be arriving around that time too.”

“Sua…”

And that was the turning point.

Suddenly, the conversation shifted entirely toward Sua.

“Is it true that Sua is preparing to become an actress?”

At Heukgom’s question, Sangji slowly nodded.

“Well, according to her, that’s the plan.”

“…An actress? I know she’s tried all sorts of part-time jobs before, but acting? Did someone put the idea in her head?”

Wonsung-ing seemed particularly shocked. She quickly turned her bewildered gaze to Sangji, Kim Sun-il.

“Sangji unnie, you used to be an entertainment reporter, right? What do you think?”

“What do I think?”

“Is it easy to become an actress?”

“Yeah, it’s easy.”

Unexpectedly, Kim Sun-il nodded easily—but she wasn’t finished speaking.

“The problem isn’t becoming an actress. The problem is becoming an actress that even ordinary people like you would recognize.”

“Huh?”

“There are countless people who pour all their money and time into this industry, only to give up. Whether it’s talent or connections, only those who have everything fall perfectly into place can survive.”

“Hmm… sounds riskier than I thought.”

At that moment, Heukgom nodded in agreement.

“Now that I think about it, yeah. If you quit a part-time job, it’s like it never happened. But if you pursue acting, your efforts are recorded on camera forever. Someone could look it up years later.”

“Exactly. That’s why it’s such a brutal industry. The evidence of your hard work might end up being a stain on your life instead. Imagine being ridiculed for it.”

“Can Sua really survive in a field like that?”

No one answered Heukgom’s question.

Silence filled the air for a moment.

After a while, Wonsung-ing finally broke the silence.

“If she gets scammed or something, it’d be a disaster. You hear those stories in the news sometimes—people luring aspiring celebrities in and doing terrible things to them.”

“Yeah… There’s a lot to worry about with Sua. She’s at the age where she should be settling into a stable career, but acting… I don’t know.”

She felt like a child left alone by the water’s edge.

No matter how much they liked Sua, they couldn’t shake the feeling that she wouldn’t necessarily succeed in any particular field.

Rather than feeling hopeful, they were just filled with concern—what if something bad happened to her?

And so, all of them spoke in unison.

“Sua really worries me. She’s a good kid, but…”

Meanwhile—

Sua had also arrived at the Busan Cinema Center.

The Arctic Fox of South Korea has arrived!

Of course, she was wearing a hat, a mask, and sunglasses to disguise herself.

The reason? To avoid being spotted by her friends.

‘This should be enough to stay safe. They don’t even know I dyed my hair white.’

She let her mind wander for a moment, picturing how her friends would react when they finally saw her. Most of those thoughts revolved around them admiring how much she resembled an Arctic fox.

But that daydream didn’t last long.

“Huh?”

A massive shock hit her first.

‘…Why are there so many people here?’

It was currently 9 AM.

But despite the early morning hour, the sheer number of people was overwhelming.

What was that saying again? “Imsinanhe”?

—It’s ‘Insaninhae’ (인산인해, meaning “a sea of people”).

Oh, right. Thanks, Wi Ji-hye.

Ah, got it. “Insaninhae.”

Well, at least I got the consonants right.

But anyway—there were way too many people.

It was enough to make her think that if a child got lost here, it’d be nearly impossible to find them.

Thump, thump, thump…

Her heart started pounding.

‘This is insane. Are all the other venues this crowded too?’

Of course, the short film festival wasn’t only being held at the Cinema Center.

There were four additional venues hosting screenings simultaneously.

‘Ugh, I don’t have time to just stand here in awe…’

Sua soon checked the screening schedule.

At 9:30, her film “Sword” was set to begin.

At 10:00, Yang Ha-rin’s “Wind” would start.

“…What a strange coincidence.”

Looking back, after entering this industry, the only person she had truly built a bad relationship with was Yang Ha-rin. She wondered how things had turned out.

Of course, she was curious about “Sword”, the film she had acted in. But she was also interested in seeing the other films competing against it. Since she could simply watch them herself, Sua quickly purchased a ticket.

“Let’s see… The screening room is all the way inside…?”

She entered the theater.

Sua’s eyes widened.

“It’s huge!”

The theater had the same structure as the movie theaters she was familiar with, but the sheer scale was on another level. However, that wasn’t even the most surprising part.

“And it’s packed!”

Most of the seats were already filled.

People from all walks of life were scattered throughout the theater, but they paid no attention to Sua. They were either staring at their phones or chatting among themselves.

Thump, thump, thump.

But Sua couldn’t ignore them. Her heart was pounding.

The thought that they would soon be watching her short film made her heart race.

Thump, thump, thump.

And the thought that she could see their reactions in real-time…

“So many people are here, and my face is about to appear on this giant screen? This is surreal. I can’t believe it. No, more than that, I’m nervous. I’m so nervous. So, so nervous… Am I really this nervous…?”

She prayed that the audience’s reaction would be positive.

And then—

“I told you ten times to change it to onion-flavored popcorn! Not once, but ten times! Seriously…”

“Just eat it already.”

“Guys, keep it down… Don’t disturb others….”

A set of particularly familiar voices tickled her ears.

“…?”

Sua tilted her head slightly.

It wasn’t that their voices were especially loud. It was just that they were so familiar to her that her ears instinctively caught them.

And then she realized why.

“Huh?”

She knew these voices.

One by one—Won Soong-ing, Black Bear, and Saengji.

By some twist of fate, they were sitting in the row right in front of her.

Close enough for Sua to tap their seats with her foot.

Close enough that she could hear their conversation.

And close enough that she had a perfect view of Black Bear’s buzzed head, which was shaved for his upcoming military service.

Won Soong-ing grumbled.

“Ugh, plain popcorn is really bland. At least caramel would’ve been better…”

“…Just don’t eat it then.”

“Ugh, why are you like this? Just give it to me.”

Yup.

They were exactly the people Sua knew.

It was like hearing their usual group chat conversations play out in real life.

Then, at some point, they started talking about her.

“What kind of status do actors at short film festivals usually have?”

“Most of them are rookies, but they have a high chance of becoming rising stars after the festival. I mean, they get their names out in front of this many people.”

Saengji answered the question in a calm, detailed manner.

“…Wow, hearing that makes it even harder to imagine.”

“What does?”

“I just can’t picture Sua ever appearing on a screen like this. Should I call her right now? Tell her to look into something else instead?”

“…Just let her be. She wants to do this.”

“No, seriously. I’m only saying this because I’m worried.”

At that exact moment—

Click, click, click—

The theater’s lights started turning off, row by row.

Immediately, the audience fell silent, turning off their phones.

It was finally time for the official short film competition to begin.

And then—

The massive screen displayed an elegant title in sharp calligraphy.

—“Sword”—

With the title card, “Sword” had begun.

Saaaaaa—

The entire screen was filled with the image of a dense forest, swaying violently under the force of a chilling wind.

Sua, her friends, and the entire audience held their breath.

Saaaaaa—

It was impossible not to.

The eerie sound of the wind carried a sense of danger, like a string pulled so tight that it might snap at any moment.

And then—

For the first time, a character appeared on screen.

Wi Ji-hye slowly lifted her eyelids.

“How troublesome.”

Her piercing gaze was as clear as a gemstone, and her voice rang with an icy sharpness.

While the entire forest was thick with tension, Wi Ji-hye remained unfazed, standing her ground with absolute composure.

She slowly got up.

“The forest is a sensitive creature. Truly, it is.”

And she drew her sword.

As the blade cut through the air in a graceful arc—

“…?”

“…?”

“…?”

Saengji, Won Soong-ing, and Black Bear were all struck with shock.

Won Soong-ing froze, unable to lift her popcorn to her mouth.

Saengji covered her mouth with both hands.

Black Bear’s eyes darted frantically, as if he had just seen a ghost.

There was only one reason.

Lee Sua.

Without a doubt—Lee Sua.

“…?”

Lee Sua was on the screen.

As Wi Ji-hye, bearing the title of “The Greatest in the Land,” wielding a sword.

“…?”

“??????”

“?!?!?!”

The three of them were completely dumbfounded.

What?! What the hell?!

That’s definitely Lee Sua! How is she there?!

SMACK!

Won Soong-ing desperately grabbed Saengji’s wrist.

Saengji was no better.

Black Bear and Won Soong-ing reached out at the same time, their hands colliding like a couple of fools.

They exchanged frantic glances.

In that moment, their expressions mirrored each other perfectly—pure, unfiltered confusion.

It felt like they had just been whacked on the head with a hammer.

And then.

Slowly.

Ever so slowly.

Their six eyes turned back to the screen.

“I ask you.”

Right then, Wi Ji-hye smirked.

“Do you know who I am?”

There was no doubt about it.

Wi Ji-hye was truly “The Greatest in the Land.”

Because with just one sentence, she had sent three people into a complete mental breakdown.

“Lee Sua! That’s Lee Sua! Holy shit!”

“…Deepfake crime? Is that what this is?”

“Lee Sua? What the hell? What are you doing right now?”

This was the moment Lee Sua officially debuted.