Chapter 69: Happiness is not something pure. (7)

In the beginning, there was no concept of sound.

When Kim Sun-il finished shooting the road scene, everyone fell silent. From the PDs and writers to the entire crew and the actors watching curiously, no one could move their lips.

It was quiet.

Completely, utterly quiet.

Everyone instinctively realized that Kim Sun-il’s performance had delivered the perfect climax. There was no need for explanation or interpretation.

After a long stretch of silence.

When Kim Sun-il rejoined them after the scene was wrapped up, the first to break the stillness was PD Choi Heewon.

“Sun-il! That was absolutely incredible!”

Her booming voice acted as the signal flare. Writer Lee Geum-sook immediately chimed in as well. Actually, it wasn’t just her—everyone else joined in, too.

“Sun-il… That was phenomenal!”

“Were you hiding that interpretation all along?”

“To portray Lee Kang-cheol’s awakening like that?”

But Kim Sun-il simply shook his head.

“Wait a moment.”

It wasn’t arrogance, but rather as if he was still lost in the character, unable to fully come back to reality.

Indeed, Kim Sun-il immediately opened the script and hurried toward Writer Lee and PD Choi.

As if he couldn’t delay it any longer.

“Sun-il…?”

“PD, Writer, there’s still a little filming left, isn’t there? I’ve thought of a way to conclude the next scene perfectly.”

Kim Sun-il then calmly explained.

The situation after Lee Kang-cheol arrived at the warehouse, the dialogue he would exchange with Kim Yuhan—he laid it all out, sparing no detail.

Neither Writer Lee nor PD Choi interrupted. They simply stroked their chins thoughtfully, exchanging glances after a moment.

“…Sounds good. Let’s do it right away.”

They nodded at Kim Sun-il.

“Okay! Perfect!”

PD Choi Heewon’s voice practically shattered eardrums as the entire crew swarmed like sheep, full of excitement.

It was clear what this signified.

The climax scene had been successfully completed.

Not only that, but the result left everyone on set buzzing with excitement over the phenomenal outcome.

“No retakes! This is it! We’re using it as is, no matter what!”

“Sun-il’s interpretation was brilliant. And Sua’s seamless response to it—just incredible! This is exactly why I wrote the climax script like this! I knew it could work!”

PD Choi and Writer Lee Geum-sook were practically floating with joy.

“Sun-il was incredible…”

“Did you see Sua? Usually, people look like drowned rats after getting drenched, but she… she looked like a goddess, even after being blasted by water cannons.”

“Their chemistry is unreal. I can’t describe it any other way.”

The rest of the crew and cast echoed the sentiment.

Climax scenes.

In the industry, they’re often synonymous with “hell.”

And understandably so. Filming a scene at the peak of tension and emotion requires immense effort. It’s common to shoot hundreds, if not thousands, of takes.

But what they experienced today was no hell.

If anything, it was closer to heaven.

A single take, yet the results felt like salvation.

The crew had been saved from an enormous workload, and Writer Lee and PD Choi had been saved from an incomplete vision.

And another person had been saved.

Kim Sun-il.

He had saved himself, and in turn, been saved.

“Haah…”

Kim Sun-il let out a deep sigh of relief.

It was truly a sigh of relief.

He felt freed from all the pressure, and he was certain even his younger sister would be satisfied with this. Above all, though, he felt a sense of peace in his heart.

He took a few deep breaths, trying to sort through his emotions.

He hadn’t completely shaken off the character of Lee Kang-cheol yet. In many ways, the character bore similarities to himself.

Kim Sun-il glanced over at Lee Sua.

She had already shed the persona of Kim Yuhan and was quietly gazing at the sky. Kim Sun-il walked over to her and asked gently.

“Are you alright?”

The question seemed almost laughable, even to Kim Sun-il. Lee Sua had already let go of her character and didn’t appear troubled by the shoot at all. If anything, he was the one in need of concern.

As expected, Sua nodded lightly.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m fine.”

“You’re not hurt anywhere? I did throw you pretty hard earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it. You didn’t throw me that hard.”

“…If you’re sure, then that’s a relief.”

Although he had intended to check on her, the truth was Kim Sun-il had another reason for striking up a conversation. Deep down, there was something he wanted to say to Lee Sua.

It was difficult. He wasn’t used to saying such things.

But he resolved to do it.

After all, the gratitude he felt was far too immense to ignore.

“Lee Sua.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

A simple phrase, but one imbued with more sincerity than anything he’d ever said.

Of course, Sua was flustered by the sincerity in his voice.

“…Thank you? For what? Why?”

From Sua’s perspective, it was puzzling. Kim Sun-il had been the one to interpret the final scene of the climax, and all she had done was perform her role as usual. Kim Sun-il, however, spoke again, this time quietly.

“Do you remember the conversation we had before?”

“Hmm?”

“You told me not to fixate on things I had to do, but to focus on what I wanted to do. That really helped me.”

“Oh, of course. I remember that perfectly.”

Sua suddenly felt even more self-conscious.

When she had said those words to him, it hadn’t been anything special. It was just something that came to mind during their exchange of questions and answers.

But that’s often how realizations work.

To someone desperately seeking clarity, it’s not some grand revelation that guides them to the next stage—it’s often a small but resonant nudge. And for Kim Sun-il, that nudge had come from Sua’s words.

Their conversation, however, didn’t last long.

The people around them weren’t about to leave them alone.

“What are you two talking about so happily over there?”

“Let us in on it! Seriously, that was amazing!”

A barrage of voices erupted, too numerous to address individually. Neither Sua nor Kim Sun-il minded, though. The enthusiasm only showed how much everyone cared about the project.

Among the excited chatter, there were also a few concerned voices.

“Are you injured? Did something happen?”

“Why do you both look so serious?”

“That’s not good—you’re both incredibly valuable!”

It was understandable. After all, from the outside, both Kim Sun-il and Sua wore expressions that seemed unusually grave.

Then, as if he had realized something, Kim Sun-il spoke up.

“PD, could you get a blanket for Sua?”

“Understood! Wait, is it because of the cold?”

“No, it’s not that…”

Kim Sun-il didn’t elaborate.

Even so, PD Choi Heewon quickly understood, and so did everyone else nearby. The reason for the blanket became immediately clear. Among the women, there were even gasps of realization.

The reason was simple.

“S-Sua’s clothes are soaked, and… everything’s showing.”

“This is so awkward. Her proportions are… just… enormous.”

“How does someone even have a body like that? Is this genetic?”

“Are we even allowed to air this scene without getting flagged by censors?”

Initially, the excitement from wrapping up the climax scene had made everyone oblivious. But now, they could see. Sua’s drenched clothes clung to her, outlining every curve.

Seo Yeon-ju was among those who noticed.

“How does just getting wet lead to… that? Pretty face, large chest, wide hips… Is that all it takes? Oh, it is all it takes. Ugh, now I have a headache.”

Despite her reputation as a symbol of innocence, Seo Yeon-ju had never sought that title. It was simply a side effect of her body type leaning in that direction, though she found it mildly frustrating.

Regardless.

After briefly noticing the intense stares from those around her, Sua couldn’t quite understand the fuss. She simply raised her chin confidently. Sua, unbothered.

Night.

Having successfully wrapped up the climactic scene, the set had transformed into a makeshift party venue. Glasses clinked in every direction as lively chatter filled the air. Even barbecue had made its way into the celebration.

But Sua wasn’t among them.

She quietly occupied a resting area inside one of the tents.

It wasn’t because she disliked beef. Her attention was entirely absorbed by something else—her newly unlocked perk.

[Perk]

[Perk mastery has increased.]

[Your perk treats you like a friend.]

[‘Heavenly Reflection’ has been unlocked.]

“Heavenly Reflection? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Frustrated, Sua muttered to herself.

“If something called ‘Heavenly Reflection’ is unlocked, shouldn’t you also explain what it is? How am I supposed to figure this out? It’s my perk, and even I don’t know what it does! This is so annoying!”

Then, as if the perk had heard her complaint:

[Preparing a tailored explanation…]

[Assessing subject’s level…]

[……]

“Oh?”

[Explanation failed.]

[The subject is underdeveloped.]

[Forcing information transfer.]

“What?”

Suddenly, a burst of light.

“Agh!”

Information was forcibly implanted into Sua’s mind.

Heavenly Reflection (演天境): A state achieved when the desire to perform resonates deeply with the heavens themselves. Sua suddenly understood everything about Heavenly Reflection.

“So, it’s basically an ultimate skill?”

That seemed to be the case. A sort of Sua-exclusive finisher.

Still, she was irritated.

“…Really? If it’s an ultimate, just explain it like that! Why do you have to shove it into my head like this?!”

The perk didn’t bother engaging with Sua.

More accurately, Sua felt the distinct sense of being ignored by it.

Suddenly, a window appeared in front of her.

[Heavenly Reflection Codex]
[1. Kim Sun-il – Heavenly Reflection: Reconciliation]

“Huh? A codex?”

Looking at it, Sua realized it wasn’t complicated.

Her perk included a Heavenly Reflection Codex, and Kim Sun-il’s Heavenly Reflection had been the first entry. As she processed this, an immediate thought came to her.

“Wait, hold on.”

She raised her finger to tap her chin.

“Where’s my Heavenly Reflection? Why isn’t mine here?”

What do you mean it’s not there? Does this mean I’m not ready yet? Or will it unlock when I meet certain conditions?

But the perk didn’t answer her. It felt almost as if it was telling her to just live with it for now.

In fact, Sua could sense the perk shaking its metaphorical head, as if it were a playful Arctic fox, making her feel oddly wounded.

“If you’re going to act like that, don’t be a cute Arctic fox.”

As Sua continued her internal quarrel with the perk, someone spoke up.

“Sua.”

The flap of the tent was pulled open, and someone entered. Sua immediately straightened her posture, biting down on the words she had been muttering just moments before.

“Oh, Representative.”

With the perfect composure of someone who had been meditating just a moment ago, Sua greeted them calmly.

[Sua: Unbothered.]

Suddenly, a window popped up with those exact words.

“…It can do that? Wait, no—focus.”

Unaware of the situation, Kim Yi-seo spoke.

“You must be hungry. I brought you something.”

In her hands was a plate of perfectly grilled beef. Sua felt a wave of gratitude wash over her. As expected, the only one who truly cared for her was the representative.

But maintaining her image was important. Maintaining her composure.

“Thank you.”

She accepted the plate as though it didn’t really interest her, even though her heart was secretly moved.

Just as she took the plate, Kim Yi-seo spoke again.

“But Sua, it looks like you won’t be able to eat just yet.”

“Huh?”

What’s that supposed to mean? At that moment, Sua noticed something she had missed earlier. Kim Yi-seo hadn’t come alone.

There were two men standing with her—one with an unruly beard, and the other neatly dressed with glasses.

“This gentleman is from the energy drink brand Extreme’s CF team, and this one is the producer for Crescendo, starting tomorrow.”

“Oh?”

“Both of them seem very interested in working with you. Let’s discuss it.”

With that one statement from Kim Yi-seo, the tension visibly tightened around the two men.

Sua instinctively knew.

What stood before her now was the “big fish” Kim Yi-seo had mentioned before.

Meanwhile, back on set.

“Is that… them?”

“Oh my, it really is.”

“Unbelievable. That’s them….”