“By any chance, have you ever accidentally killed someone?”
A single statement from writer Lee Geum-sook.
Her words carry a distinct weight—every manuscript she writes becomes a hit. The interview room fell silent for a brief moment, unable to escape the gravity of her question.
“Why?”
Sua responded reflexively.
It was a form of defense. Instinctively uneasy, knowing that whatever the other party might say next probably wouldn’t be pleasant.
“No, just…”
But all the unsettling thoughts Sua had conjured were proven wrong when Writer Lee Geum-sook responded with an unexpected reaction.
She calmly adjusted her glasses…
…even with the faintest hint of a smile.
“…I’m a little surprised.”
Surprised?
Ah, yes, that’s plausible.
She suddenly began choking on nothing, pretending her throat was being strangled by air, wildly slashing at an imaginary knife, engaging with an invisible customer while staring into nothingness, and finally collapsing into a squat, trembling violently…
…Of course they’d be surprised. She must have seemed otherworldly.
Just as Sua’s face was burning like it would explode from embarrassment…
“Haha!”
A man sitting beside Writer Lee Geum-sook burst into laughter.
His physique was so massive that he felt less like a human and more like a giant rock. Was he really from this industry?
“Miss Sua, we were just asking casually. There’s no need to be on the defensive like that.”
“…?”
Defensive? Me?
I’ve been trembling with fear, trying not to offend anyone.
“I don’t mean to, but… I was just answering honestly.”
“I know that. You seem so calm, without a hint of nervousness—it’s strange. We don’t usually get participants who are this unruffled. But just try to be a little less… intimidating.”
Not that kind of calm, though. I was just trying to approach the situation with respect. Why is it being interpreted like this?
“Alright.”
The muscular man smiled in what appeared to be a reassuring manner.
“Ever since I started working out, I’ve never felt afraid of anything. But Miss Sua, your mask… it’s pretty unique. There’s a presence about you that makes people stop in their tracks.”
“…Yes.”
At that moment…
“Is your name Sua, correct?”
Another woman joined the conversation.
Eh? Was there another woman among the judges?
Out of five judges: one was Writer Lee Geum-sook, three were unfamiliar men, and this woman was…?
‘…Wait, isn’t that Seo Yeon-joo?’
Sua couldn’t help but flinch her eyebrows. A post she had seen earlier came to mind all at once.
[Special judge Seo Yeon-joo]
Was that actually true?
But looking again—it was unmistakably Seo Yeon-joo.
How could she confuse someone who represented the pinnacle of acting in Korea? With her delicate features that seemed almost artistic, Sua couldn’t help but admire her.
Her skin was as white as paper, her face smaller than a fist, and her hair, which fell down to her waist, was neatly tied up with a hairband. The epitome of grace.
Sua’s feelings of inadequacy amplified.
‘In front of Seo Yeon-joo… What have I done…’
Sua thought. Receiving criticism from such a refined actress might break her heart.
It was then that Seo Yeon-joo raised a sheet of paper. A familiar one. It was the printed application form Sua had submitted.
“Your self-introduction section is completely blank. So, who exactly are you? Where have you been and what have you been doing all this time?”
Sua instinctively swallowed dryly.
Why was the self-introduction section empty? Because she had applied merely to test if acting suited her, so there was no need to write anything.
Besides, Sua had nothing particularly impressive to offer. You’d need something worth mentioning, right?
After some thought, she quickly came to a conclusion.
No lies. At the very least, honesty was crucial.
“Soccer, basketball, golf, swimming… I’ve tried a bunch of things. I think I’ve pretty much done everything except acting.”
Sua tried her best to explain. It sounded like she was confessing to a crime, but what could she do?
The audience was none other than Seo Yeon-joo—the face of South Korean entertainment. How could she give a casual answer?
However…
“Hm…?”
The judges’ faces were painted with a thick layer of bewilderment. Their eyes widening several times, their eyebrows twitching. Unmistakable.
Everyone was utterly perplexed.
“So… you honed all those skills… for acting?”
“…?”
Sua unconsciously furrowed her brows.
What nonsense. Are they crazy?
She barely managed to choke back the response on the tip of her tongue. If they misunderstood, it would suffocate her.
She once fumbled a basketball, her face colliding with the ball and bleeding from her nose. While playing soccer, she almost twisted her ankle. In martial arts, a single punch to the gut left her breathless and she immediately quit…
…but it was too embarrassing to explain everything.
“So… just a hobby?”
“Hobby…? And acting?”
Seo Yeon-joo stared at Sua, her eyes wide like she was watching a scene from a movie.
“Could it be… acting is also just a hobby?”
“Well, something like that.”
That was the best Sua could offer.
If she had declared her all-out effort in acting and received criticism for being mediocre, it would be far worse, making her feel even more disheartened.
That wouldn’t do. Sua planned to play it safe.
“Hobby… Hobby but with this level of skill… huh…?”
Seo Yeon-joo took a sip of water from her tumbler, her throat dry.
“Let me ask something.”
It was then another man interjected.
‘…Someone who works all day, right?’
A baseball cap pulled low over his head, his face adorned with scruffy stubble, and his clothes loose and rumpled—his appearance could easily be mistaken for a vagrant.
“All I want to know is one small thing, Miss Sua. Just one.”
Other questions? Hopefully something easy.
Sua’s head slightly tilted to the side at that moment.
“What were you thinking?”
“Excuse me?”
“When you got just one line of script, you must have visualized the setting, lines, characters, and so on. I want to hear all of it. Very, very detailed.”
“…Everything?”
This was awkward. Extremely so.
Sua subtly turned her head.
[“Deactivate Acting Time”]
…You should probably ask this person instead.
Sua had merely replicated what she had experienced, but she couldn’t possibly explain everything as is.
A convincing excuse didn’t immediately come to mind. It took a small moment to think of what to say.
But this scruffy man gave her no room to breathe. His eyes glimmered with intense curiosity, fully focused on Sua.
“Hahahaha… Did I ask something too difficult?”
“No, that’s not it.”
“It’s a question I’ve asked other participants, too. I don’t want you to think I’m picking on you, okay?”
“I’m not misunderstanding. I’m just thinking.”
“It’s strange, now that I think about it. Why am I asking you such elaborate details? It’s quite peculiar.”
“…”
After that, Sua maintained silence for quite some time. There simply wasn’t anything worth saying, no matter how much longer she contemplated.
How much time had passed?
The judges waited breathlessly for Sua’s answer…
“…Honestly, I didn’t think much.”
That was the honest answer.
Immediately after, she fled the interview room as if escaping.
■■■■■
After Sua left, the interview room was abuzz with excitement.
“What… did I just hear correctly?”
Seo Yeon-joo’s voice carried a trace of bewilderment. Even the hairband she had carefully placed was now off, showing her genuine surprise.
“She said it’s a hobby? Come on, we all know that’s a lie. I’ve tried acting too; with a hobby, this level of performance is impossible.”
The producer, Son Ji-woong, who had been listening silently, nodded in agreement. His enlarged eyeballs differed little from Seo Yeon-joo’s.
“She’s got such a strong presence—it would be nearly impossible for her to convincingly act scared. Yet, there she is, pulling it off effortlessly.”
“If that’s just her being honest, it implies she’s gifted with some sort of incredible innate talent… Insane.”
“…Where in the world has she been all this time?”
The man Sua had mistaken for a boulder, the muscular Choi Hee-won PD, glanced again at Sua’s self-introduction section. But all he saw there were blank spaces.
No self-introduction. No experience.
It was utterly baffling.
“There’s no way she’s a rookie… this is just…”
“She’s had a diverse life, that much I know. But it feels like she’s experienced all of life. Every aspect of it.”
The judges freely expressed their astonishment.
And so, after some time to calm their racing hearts, Seo Yeon-joo retied her hairband and spoke.
“Of course, she’s passing, right?”
“Of course. This meeting was just a temporary measure so we could marvel at her. The decision to pass her was already made.”
Ishua.
She was the first unanimous pass of the day.
