Silence. Complete, absolute silence.
Kang Woo-jin couldn't hear a thing. Not a single sound, not even his own breathing.
And his senses—Dulled. Faint.
It felt as if his body were floating weightlessly, suspended in an abyss.
Everything was ambiguous.
He was conscious, yet his mind was hazy. Was he lying down or standing? Was it cold or warm? Were his eyes even open?
His surroundings lacked definition, and his perception wavered between clarity and distortion.
Yet, despite the uncertainty—'This is kind of Relaxing.'
A strange sense of peace settled over him.
Woo-jin felt oddly comfortable, as if he could remain like this forever.
Then—Something stirred.
An unseen force pulled at him, like an invisible hand dragging him back to awareness.
His body, or whatever he was right now, responded involuntarily.
'Ah—'
A sharp sensation coursed through him. He wasn't waking up by his own will. Something was waking him.
And then—"Urrgh..." Woo-jin groaned softly.
His eyelids fluttered open—had they been closed all along?
A few sluggish seconds passed. His mind was still catching up.
"Where... am I?" Darkness. Endless, suffocating darkness.
Woo-jin's eyes were open, but it made no difference. It was as if he had awakened in a void—a space untouched by light.
It was the kind of darkness that could drive someone insane.
The kind that made you question if you even existed.
A suffocating sense of isolation wrapped around him. The silence, the absence of anything—it was unbearable.
His heartbeat quickened. Woo-jin forced himself to stand, his voice cutting through the void.
"Hey!! Daeyoung Kim!!" Nothing.Not even an echo.
"Hey!! HEEEY!!!"
Still, silence. His voice was swallowed whole by the abyss.
No walls. No ceiling. No horizon.
Was this even a room? Or was he trapped in some kind of boundless subspace?
A creeping sense of unease settled in his gut.
Woo-jin clenched his fists. "What the hell... is this place?"
"Hey, hey! Daeyoung Kim! What the hell is going on?!"
An overwhelming sense of anxiety wrapped around Kang Woo-jin like a thick fog. His chest tightened. His breath hitched.
Then—'Wait...' A memory surfaced.
Before ending up in this bizarre void—"I touched that weird square."
That swirling black and gray square floating in the air next to the script.
His index finger had grazed it.
And then—"...What!? Did I just get sucked into a movie??"
His thoughts slammed to a halt.
No. This wasn't a dream. No dream had ever felt this real.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears. Whatever this place was, one thing was clear—he had to find a way out.
Woo-jin turned. "Huh?" Among the endless black void, something stood out.
A white square.
It hovered about three steps ahead of him, its faint glow barely cutting through the darkness.
"Was that always there...?"
His instincts screamed for him to check. Without hesitation, he stepped forward.
Up close, the square was roughly A4-sized, floating right at his chest level. But the strange part—
"Is that a ...Text?" White letters shimmered against the surface.
[1/Page Script (Title: Unknown), Grade: F (Unable to Judge)]
*[Completion level: Very Low. Script is damaged. 100% reading is impossible. (Approximately 10% Feasible)]
Woo-jin frowned.
"What the hell is this? What is a 'damaged script'?"
His mind raced. 'Wait... script...' A flash of memory.
That thin stack of paper he'd received from the female staff member before all of this happened.
'No way. Is this that script?'
His gut told him he was right. He reached out to grab the floating square—
But it wouldn't budge.
Jus then—New words appeared beneath the script.
[You have selected 1/Page Script (Title: Unknown)]
[List of available characters for Reading (Experience)]
[A: Scared Man]
[B: Stranger]
"What the hell is this now?"
The anxiety bubbling inside him nearly boiled over. But he had no time to hesitate.
"Oh, screw it." He tapped the first option.
[A: Scared Man]
At that moment—A woman's robotic voice echoed through the void.
["Preparing to read 'A: Scared Man'..."]
Woo-jin's eyes widened. A voice. A real, human voice—
"HEY! WHO ARE YOU?! Is someone here?!"
No response. Only the eerie monotone of the woman's voice.
["Ready. Damaged script or screenplay. Implementation level: 10%. Beginning script reading."]
And then—A massive gray mass swallowed him whole.
Cold. A biting chill stabbed into his skin. The temperature had changed.
Before, everything had been vague—neither hot nor cold. But now, he felt the cold.
'This is....Outside?'
Something was different. Woo-jin looked down.
His clothes had changed. The puffer jacket he'd been wearing? Gone.
Instead, he was dressed in a worn-out brown windbreaker. The strangeness sent a shiver down his spine. He looked up.
His vision had shifted.
It was still dark—but not empty.
Silhouettes. Faint outlines of trees. Twisting branches. Dead leaves blanketing the ground.
A forest? Woo-jin swallowed hard.
'I... I can feel everything.'
His hands clenched involuntarily. The rustling of leaves. The soft whisper of wind brushing against tree limbs.
Then—A sharp, visceral emotion gripped him.
Fear.
'Run.I have to run.'
Woo-jin's breath hitched. His feet moved on instinct.
He started running. No direction. No logic. Just pure desperation.
'Run. Run. Run.'
His pulse roared in his ears. His lungs burned.
Fallen leaves crunched underfoot as he sprinted through the darkness, the cold wind slashing against his face.
Something was chasing him. He didn't know what, but he knew—
'If I stop, I die.'
His pace quickened. His head snapped over his shoulder.
Nothing. Still, he kept running.
Until—"Hey."
A deep, menacing voice. Right beside him.
Woo-jin's eyes widened in horror.
"That's enough. Stop running."
Before Woo-jin could react— His leg was yanked from under him.
*CRASH!*
He hit the ground hard. Pain shot through his body, raw and real. His breath left him in a sharp gasp.
'It... hurts. Why does it hurt?!'
His cheek scraped against the dirt. Warm liquid trickled down his skin.
It was blood. This wasn't just an illusion.
This was real. And then— A shadow loomed over him.
The fear in his chest exploded into full-blown terror.
"I'm hungry because of you."
The voice came from behind. Deep and Gruff.
Woo-jin's entire body locked up. His breath hitched. His fingers clawed at the dirt. His mind screamed—Run. Move. Escape.
But his body refused. Something—no, someone—was pressing him down.
"Ugh—hck—!!"
Woo-jin thrashed, his hands scraping through fallen leaves and soil, his fingers splitting against unseen rocks. His nose filled with dirt. His lungs burned.
His vision blurred—water streamed from his eyes, and his nose ran uncontrollably.
'I don't want to die.'
Every inch of him fought. Every nerve in his body screamed in desperation.
Yet the pressure on his back remained Heavy and Unyielding.
Then—"Yeah, I've decided. I'm gonna go down and grab some pizza."
The voice muttered lazily.
Like this was nothing. Like Woo-jin was nothing. Terror surged through him.
His instincts flared—to look.
Woo-jin flipped onto his back, his body trembling uncontrollably, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His eyes shot upward—
And there it was. A man. But not really.
A figure loomed over him, its face a smooth, featureless black void.
A perfectly round, ink-black circle where a face should be.
But the silhouette of his body was there. Vague and Blurry at the edges. A shifting shadow in the shape of a man.
Then—A sharp, searing pain ripped through Woo-jin's side.
"AAAAAAaaaaaaGH!!!"
He arched, his body spasming violently. His mouth opened in a silent scream before his voice caught up.
Pain. It's not a dream, It is not fake either. It was REAL.
Like being torn apart from the inside. A scorching, jagged agony swallowed his entire existence. His limbs convulsed. His fingers twitched erratically. His vision blurred at the edges.
It was too much.
'Let me live!.' Woo-jin's hands clamped together.
A silent plea.
His trembling fingers reached toward the faceless man. He prayed.
Begged. He didn't care how.
He didn't care if he had to grovel.
'Just—please let me live!.'
The monster laughed. Its expressionless face remained void, yet Woo-jin felt the amusement dripping from it.
That sick, twisted joy. Somewhere deep inside, a whisper of hope flickered.
Woo-jin forced a smile.
Maybe—maybe if he—Another stab. His body jerked violently.
A choked scream tore from his throat.
"AAAAaaaaaaaaaGGHHH—!!"
.
["The reading of 'A: Scared Man' is ending."]
A mechanical voice. Flat and uncaring. Like a button had been pressed.
.
"...Yo. This! Hey!!" A different voice. It felt Distant and Muffled.
Woo-jin's body felt heavy. His mind drifted in and out of consciousness.
Slowly, his senses returned.
His ears picked up distant chatter.
His eyes adjusted—Three people. Seated at a straight desk in front of him.
A woman in her 30s, A man in his 50s, bearded, and A young woman.
Woo-jin's breath came shallow, his hands still faintly trembling.
His fingers curled slightly, as if still feeling the dirt.
I'm back. His dazed eyes flicked downward.
In his hand—A phone. Pressed against his ear.
Woo-jin's expression was slack, his mind slow to process. He glanced at the screen.
One minute. Only a single minute had passed. But back in that forest—back in that nightmare— It had been at least thirty.
His heartbeat pounded in his ears. Something was wrong.
"Hey." The woman in her 30s, seated at the desk, waved a script.
"Aren't you gonna do it? Still can't reach Daeyoung Kim?"
Woo-jin stared at the script. Then at the woman.
Then at his own hands. He had already experienced it.
He'd lived in that script. And now—They wanted him to read it?
He slowly got up from the chair.
The woman in her 30s, looked slightly surprised.
"Oh? Do you want to do it? Hey, you and your friend must have a strong bond, huh?"
Next, Kang Woo-jin stood in front of the three people sitting at the desk. The distance was roughly two steps.
Why? The reason was unclear.
Right now, Woo-jin just felt like he had to show something.
Everything that had happened in that unknown place just moments ago—
Even as he took his stance slowly—It was still vivid. Because he had experienced it firsthand.
.
About 10 minutes later–.
Kang Woo-jin, who had acted out everything written in the script, was now lying on the floor.
Both hands pointed toward the sky.
Why? Because just a moment ago, he had been begging.
Then—"Ahhh..."
His mind, which had been drifting in confusion, suddenly became clear.
No, actually, his consciousness had been clear all along.
But now that the scene before him had ended, did that mean his sluggish brain was finally catching up?
Anyway—The first thing Kang Woo-jin felt as he slowly lowered his raised arms was:
'Oh, shit. What did I just do?
A massive wave of shame.
'Ha—what the hell just happened? Do I have a mental problem?'
His brain scrambled to process everything. Something had definitely happened.
And yet, at the same time, it felt like it hadn't. His thoughts were a tangled mess.
His head spun. Whatever it was—whether he had been possessed or something else—there was one undeniable fact:
Everyone had just watched him.
Whether it was a real experience or not, one thing was clear—Woo-jin had been very passionate.
Soon, still lying on the floor, Kang Woo-jin cleared his throat and sat up.
At that moment, he reached a single conclusion.
'Pretend it didn't happen. First Act natural and then let's escape.'
His embarrassment and shame were suffocating, but he had to stay calm.
He began reciting a mental spell:
'I am confident. I am cool. Kang Woo-jin, you are not embarrassed at all right now.'
Yes. Act as strong as possible. Then—"······You know." A woman's voice cut through the air.
She was the prettiest among the three people sitting at the desk.
Wait a minute. Who was this woman?
'Oh my god? No way. Hong Hye-yeon?!' Long, straight hair. Clear, radiant skin.
Sitting just two steps in front of Woo-jin was Hong Hye-yeon, a top actress known throughout the industry.
How did he not recognize her earlier? Was it because the situation was too overwhelming?
She was an angel. If angels were real, they would look exactly like her.
Maybe that's why she didn't seem human. Thanks to Woo-jin's dazed state—
'Wow, I'm seriously amazed'. And—He stopped dusting off his pants, completely captivated by Hong Hye-yeon.
It was at this moment that she narrowed her brows and asked a question.
"Which university did you major in performance at? Mun Yeong? Handong?"
'What? What was she talking about?!'
Woo-jin wanted to shout right then and there that he was a huge fan.
But despite the lingering shame from earlier, he had to maintain a strong demeanor.
That was the only way to neutralize this insane humiliation.
So, keeping his composure, he casually resumed brushing off his pants.
Then, in the deepest, most confident voice he could muster—he answered.
A voice so unexpectedly low and smooth that even he was surprised.
"No. I just graduated from the design department at a university in Gyeonggi-do."
Woo-jin realized his mistake instantly. But his face only grew more determined.
"Design... department?"
"······?"
All three people sitting in front, including top actress Hong Hye-yeon, had their faces twisted in confusion. It wasn't clear why, but they were definitely surprised.
"Well, then, where did you learn acting?"
'Learning? I didn't even know what acting means'.
Acting was a field Woo-jin had never been interested in his entire life, but he just looked around instead of answering—because all he wanted to do was run away as quickly as possible.
"I taught myself. Just a little... on the weekends."
"······What?"
That response only fueled Woo-jin's bravado, even though he had no idea what he was talking about.
"Then."
The bearded man in his 50s, who sat in the center of the desk, widened his eyes and asked another question.
"What exactly did you just do? That must have been your first time acting. But after glancing at the script for just a moment, you pulled that off?"
'What did I just do? Shhh. Please, stop bringing up my shame.'
Woo-jin, who was slowly positioning himself to make a run for it, glanced behind him before responding. Of course, this time too, he had to sound firm and confident.
"It wasn't that difficult."
After giving his answer, Woo-jin gave a half-hearted nod to the three people in front of him.
"Well then."
Though anxious, he walked toward the back door as calmly as possible, mentally chanting, 'Don't call me. Don't call me'.
Before leaving, Woo-jin turned to the staff standing near the door and muttered a final warning.
"I'm sorry, but please don't broadcast what I just did. If you use it, I'll sue you."
Of course, that was just another bluff. He simply wanted to escape this nightmare as fast as possible.
Fortunately, Kang Woo-jin was able to leave the room without any trouble.
Outside, participants were still waiting for their turn.
Keeping his face blank, Woo-jin walked past them—then suddenly sped up.
He was practically jogging.
Once he was a good distance away, he covered his face with both hands and let out a deep, exhausted sigh.
"Hah—fuck. That was humiliating."
.
Meanwhile, back in the room Woo-jin had just left—
"······Producer. Did he just say it wasn't that difficult? After showing that level of acting??"
Hong Hye-yeon, the top actress, spoke in disbelief, her mouth hanging open.
Her shock was shared by the others. The bearded man in his 50s, sitting in the center, scoffed.
"A design department? What an absurd guy."
"Self-taught? Lies! There's no way he didn't learn acting properly somewhere!"
"Even if he did, even then—" The director, who had been directing for 20 years, shook his head in disbelief.
"He didn't even major in acting, and his main field is design. Do you really think someone can easily learn how to act and perform at that level? That's impossible."
"······That–."
"The composure and confidence in his answers... That was real. He meant it when he said it was easy. Even after looking at the script for just a minute, he managed to deliver decent acting. In all my years, I've never met someone whose past is this impossible to guess."
Then, the bearded man glanced toward the door Woo-jin had walked out of and smiled.
"A special kind of genius. Monsters like him appear once in a while."
And so—The snowball of misunderstanding had begun to roll.