The dead zone wasn't officially a place.
It was the gap between set walls and storage—two temporary corridors that didn't belong to any department, which meant everyone used it when they didn't want to be seen. No cameras pointed there because it wasn't "clean." Wi-Fi flickered because the signal didn't like the metal racks and stacked props. The light was always a little wrong, like it had been forgotten.
Perfect.
Joon-ho walked past it twice without looking in.
Public protocol didn't end when the camera stopped rolling. It ended when the leaker stopped believing you were watching.
Su-bin had texted him one line earlier: Lee Min moving. Two minutes.
So he moved too—just not like a hunter.
He carried a garment bag from wardrobe to production like he actually had a job there. He stopped to thank a PA like he was polite. He paused to listen to the assistant director complain about the next setup like he was bored and helpful.
Then he drifted toward storage.
