Chapter 390: Overwhelmed (19)

Translator: Santos

PD Song Man-woo’s face was pale, looking as though he might

collapse any moment, yet his voice held firm conviction as he spoke
into the phone.

"The editing is done."

Around him, editors silently clenched their fists or exhaled in relief,

some running their hands through their hair, the end of their long
ordeal finally in sight.

Song Man-woo's expression remained serious as the voice of Kim

So-hyang, the executive director, came through the phone,
sounding slightly surprised.

“…What? Really? Already?”

She asked, surprised that *Beneficial Evil*’s editing had finished so

quickly. Song Man-woo, rubbing his tired face with one hand,
replied.

“Yes, just now.”

“That’s much faster than expected,” she said.

“True.”

“I remember you mentioned it would take two more weeks for

editing and another week to wrap everything up.”

Earlier, at the start of January, PD Song had informed her that

editing for *Beneficial Evil* would require two more weeks, with an
additional week to finalize everything, targeting completion by late
January. By the schedule, he’d shaved almost an entire week off.

Slowly standing from his chair, Song Man-woo explained, “I didn’t

want the editing to cut so close to the February 3rd launch. Besides,
with the current buzz around Woo-jin, I had to push harder.”
“Ah…”

Though holed up in the editing room, Song Man-woo had stayed

aware of the whirlwind surrounding Kang Woo-jin, Miley Kara, and
other recent headlines. From the crossover releases of *The Leech*,
to *Pierrot*, and now *Beauty and the Beast*, he had been just as
stunned as everyone when he’d heard the news of Woo-jin being a
candidate for the role of “Beast.”

But he didn’t dwell on it.

“Missing this golden opportunity would’ve been…oh, sorry. Anyway,

we had to ride this wave, even if it meant doubling down on the time
and effort.”

“Are you alright?”

“Oh, fine enough. With Woo-jin’s publicity going beyond Korea and
Japan to reach global proportions, I wanted to make sure we could
time the promotion for *Beneficial Evil* alongside it.”

“That would create natural global promotion.”

“Exactly. I didn’t want to waste a single day of this moment.”

With Woo-jin’s Cannes recognition and Miley Kara’s involvement,

*Beneficial Evil* already had an international profile. But with Woo-
jin’s name circulating globally as a candidate for the “Beast” role,
his fame was skyrocketing. Whether in anticipation or controversy,
worldwide audiences were now captivated by Woo-jin.

Combined with his previous statements about pursuing an Academy

Award after his Cannes speech and his roles in *Pierrot* and *Beauty
and the Beast*, this buzz was unprecedented.

'If *Beneficial Evil* comes to light now, the global interest will be
inevitable.'

For many, the question was, “Who is this Kang Woo-jin, and why is
he shaking up Hollywood?” When *Beneficial Evil* appeared with
Miley Kara—candidate for the role of “Belle”—the publicity would
only amplify. To maximize this effect, every day counted.
Driven by this, PD Song had thrown every ounce of time and energy
he had into completing the project exactly on schedule.

Then, Kim So-hyang cautiously asked, “How is the quality…in your

opinion?”

Despite her trust in the renowned PD Song, she couldn’t help but
worry that a rushed job might overlook details. But PD Song, without
a hint of hesitation, replied confidently.

“I guarantee the quality. You can go ahead with all planned

promotional activities starting today.”

“Understood, PD.”

“I’ll also send over the teasers and trailers by the end of the day.”

As the conversation continued, Song Man-woo sank back into his

chair, changing the subject slightly.

“Rather than just preview snippets like last time, it’d be better to
organize a full pre-release test screening for the cast and key
production members, just the first one or two episodes.”

It was essentially a test screening, similar to film previews. Kim So-

hyang’s tone suggested agreement.

“Alright. Then, just Netflix staff, Choi Writer, and the actors?”

“We may have to proceed without those who can’t make it. But
personally, I’d love for Woo-jin to attend.”

“Ah, Woo-jin. Hm, he’s extremely busy right now.”

“I’ll reach out. From what I know, Woo-jin leaves for LA on the 20th,
so we’d need to arrange the test screening for tomorrow, the 19th, if
possible. I’ll check in with the other actors as well.”

“Can you manage on such short notice?”

PD Song chuckled at her question.

“If our global star agrees, I’d hold it an hour from now if I had to.”

---

Later that day, around 3 PM at a commercial shoot in Seoul, Woo-jin

sat off to the side during a break, casually scrolling through his
phone while in a branded leather jacket for the luxury shoot. Though
he wore his usual reserved expression, he was keeping up with the
flood of media coverage from Korea, Japan, and beyond.

‘This is getting louder, not quieter. I thought it’d die down in a few
days, but it’s the opposite.’

Just then, Choi Sung-geon, bundled in a thick padded coat,

approached him.

“Woo-jin.”

Woo-jin lowered his voice, answering in his usual deep tone.

“Yes, PD.”

“These are the costumes they asked you to prepare for the *Pierrot*
audition and screen test. Do they look alright?”

Choi held out a tablet with Woo-jin’s requested wardrobe items

displayed. Woo-jin scanned the list quickly and gave a slight nod.

“Yes, that should be sufficient.”

“Nothing else? What about makeup?”

“No makeup. I’ll go as I am.”

“Just the costume? Are you sure you don’t need makeup like you did
for *Pierrot*?”

“Yes, I’ll go with my natural look.”

Though they were discussing preparations for *Pierrot*, Woo-jin was

clear about not needing makeup. He had already mapped out his
approach for the audition and screen test.
‘Better to go as myself, rather than as the character.’

After Woo-jin’s confirmation, Choi Sung-geon took back the tablet.

“Got it. The costume will be ready tomorrow. The team is already
working on an exact match.”

“Yes, thank you, PD.”

Choi swallowed nervously.

“Only a week left now, huh? I’m beyond anxious, and here you are,
looking completely unbothered. Having you so calm is killing the
rest of us here.”

“Really?”

Not that Woo-jin was completely unphased.

‘Do you really think I’m fine? Just thinking about the audition spikes
my adrenaline.’

The tension was real, but it wasn’t fear—more like exhilaration.

Then,

-Buzz, buzz.

Woo-jin’s phone vibrated in his hand. It was a call from PD Song.

Woo-jin raised it to his ear and answered in a low voice.

“Yes, PD. Hello.”

Listening to PD Song, Woo-jin turned to Choi Sung-geon and asked,

“Can I free up about two hours in tomorrow’s schedule?”

“For what?”

“PD Song mentioned a test screening for *Beneficial Evil*. He said

it’s okay to skip if it’s too difficult.”
Choi Sung-geon’s eyes widened with surprise. “Already?” He quickly
checked his schedule and replied, “Two hours is tight, but we can
manage one.”

---

The next morning, January 19th, at DM Production’s editing room,

around 10 AM.

The editing room was bustling. Thankfully, the stale smell from
endless hours of work had dissipated. Up front, PD Song Man-woo
was joined by several key production staff, Netflix Korea executives,
including Kim So-hyang, and…

“Whoo… f-finally.”

“Are you alright, Writer Choi?”

“What? No? Yes?”

Writer Choi Na-na, wearing round glasses, was busy taking deep
breaths to calm her nerves. The cast of *Beneficial Evil* was there,
including most of the supporting and lead actors. Due to scheduling
conflicts, Hua-rin couldn’t make it, but Gang-su, the dinosaur-faced
supporting actor, was present.

The atmosphere buzzed with excitement.

Then,

-Swish.

The door opened, and the familiar figure of a black-haired actor

entered, causing everyone to turn.

“Oh! Woo-jin’s here!”

“Woo-jin’s arrived!”

“Wow—it’s like seeing a real superstar! Somehow, he looks even

different than on set!”
“Haha, welcome, Woo-jin.”

Woo-jin, in a long gray down jacket and cap, greeted everyone, then
nodded slightly at PD Song seated by the editing equipment.

“Thank you for all the hard work, PD.”

PD Song, sporting a scruffy beard, chuckled.

“Hardly. You’ve worked even harder. Thanks for making the time
despite your insane schedule.”

“I was curious to see it too.”

After about ten minutes of small talk, PD Song announced the start
of the screening.

“Let’s take our seats, everyone. Time for the test.”

The group, including Woo-jin, took seats or stood at the back. With a
few clicks on his console, PD Song started the playback on the main
monitor, and *Beneficial Evil* Part 1, Episode 1, began. The screen
opened without any introductory titles or OST, diving straight into
the action.

The setting was a dark forest.

Then Woo-jin, dressed in military gear and carrying a rifle, appeared

on screen as Jang Yeon-woo. The camera panned slowly from his
back, then shifted to his side. A female voice crackled

through his earpiece—it was Miley Kara’s, speaking in English.

The entire room fell silent.

“… …”

Everyone was transfixed, gazing at the screen as though spellbound.

Woo-jin, maintaining his composed facade, felt the same.

‘Holy—goosebumps! The quality is insane!’

From the opening cinematography to the directing, everything was
exceptional. It felt like a Hollywood movie right from the first line,
which was in English. But that was only the beginning.

‘Whoa! The action is incredible!’

From the gunfights to the tension, every second was gripping.

After the screening…

Unfortunately, Woo-jin could only watch Episode 1 of *Beneficial

Evil* before having to leave. Though he was dying to see it all, time
was short.

‘Ah—I wanted to see that long take in Episode 2.’

Episode 1 interwove Jang Yeon-woo’s past and present, laying out

clues as the current events unfolded. Even knowing the story,
seeing the finished version was a whole new experience.

In short,

‘This is epic.’

Even Woo-jin, who had acted in it, found it irresistibly captivating.

Once someone started Episode 1, they wouldn’t be able to stop until
all six episodes of Part 1 were finished.

Woo-jin headed back to the van, where the stylist team handed him
the requested costumes for the *Pierrot* audition.

Seeing the outfit, his heart began to race.

‘Whew—’

But he calmed himself quickly. The day flew by, and on Thursday,
the 20th, Woo-jin found himself at Incheon Airport.

“Woo-jin! Kang Woo-jin!”

“Can we get a statement on your feelings?”

“Are you confident for the audition?!”

“What kind of performance have you prepared?!”

“Here! Please, just a quick word, Woo-jin!”

“Have you contacted Director Ahn Ga-bok?!”

“Do you think you can compete against the Hollywood actors
confirmed as candidates?!”

Hundreds of reporters and even more fans had swarmed Incheon

Airport. Though the crowd was frenetic, Woo-jin calmly waved to
them as he passed through the gate.

Then,

-Swish.

He disappeared behind the departure doors, reappearing shortly

afterward inside a private jet. Choi Sung-geon and the team buzzed
around him, while Woo-jin’s phone continued to ping with messages
—mostly well-wishes. With his usual stoic demeanor, Woo-jin turned
his phone to airplane mode.

-Flap.

He opened the *Pierrot* script and raised a finger.

‘Time to get in character.’

In anticipation of the audition, he wanted to immerse himself in the

role as much as possible.

Hours later.

‘Ah, this damn jet lag.’

After a flight lasting over ten hours, Woo-jin arrived at LAX early in
the morning. Despite leaving Seoul in the morning, he found himself
landing in Los Angeles at an even earlier hour. Covered up to avoid
attention, Woo-jin moved through the packed arrival area without
issue.

Forty minutes later, Woo-jin’s team boarded waiting vans outside

the airport. Woo-jin rode in the lead vehicle, gazing out the window.

‘Still the same LA.’

Los Angeles stretched out before him, vast and familiar. But
something had shifted within Woo-jin. LA felt less foreign to him
now. The van pulled away, taking him to his residence in the city.

Then,

“Oppa.”

Woo-jin’s stylist manager, Han Ye-jeong—recently sporting a blue

bob haircut—murmured, looking down at her phone.

“The official teaser for *Beneficial Evil* just dropped.”

On her phone screen, the teaser had been up for barely ten
minutes.

-【Worldwide Release on February 3rd!】Official *Beneficial Evil*

Teaser ｜ Netflix Korea

In various languages, comments were already pouring in like

wildfire.

Chapter 391: Overwhelmed (20)

Translator: Santos

As soon as Kang Woo-jin arrived in LA, *Beneficial Evil*’s first official

teaser was released.
-【Worldwide Release on February 3rd!】Official Teaser for *Beneficial
Evil* ｜ Netflix Korea

Though Woo-jin maintained a calm expression as he glanced at the

teaser on stylist Han Ye-jeong’s phone, he couldn’t hide a bit of
surprise inside.

“Whoa… this is huge.”

The teaser had been live for just 10 minutes on Netflix Korea’s
official YouTube channel, yet already had over 110,000 views. Woo-
jin nodded slowly, keeping his cool as he spoke to Han.

“I’ll check it on mine, thanks.”

She retrieved her phone, and soon the entire van was filled with his
team, all watching the teaser. Woo-jin hit play on his own phone.

-Swish.

The 30-second clip started with a black screen, underscored by

dramatic music, before revealing Woo-jin in military gear, followed
by his voice-over. Miley Kara’s line soon joined his. Each shot was
short, flashing through scenes that conveyed the intensity of
*Beneficial Evil*’s themes—close-ups of the key characters, gunfire,
explosions, fierce action sequences. The teaser seemed to almost
assault the viewer with its urgency, with Woo-jin as the focal point.

As they entered the heart of LA, his team members began

expressing their amazement.

“Wow, look at those shots—stunning!”

“Chills! Right as he shows up, Miley Kara’s voice comes in!”

“The quality is insane! What do you think, Woo-jin?”

“Yeah, it’s good.”

“Really? You actually think so?”

The praise poured in, and in the front seat, Choi Sung-geon nodded
in satisfaction as the teaser ended with gritty gray text and release
information.

-*Beneficial Evil*
-Worldwide Release on February 3rd

Though Woo-jin’s face remained impassive, inside he was thrilled.

‘Yeah, it’s epic.’

Having already seen Episode 1, he shared his team’s enthusiasm

even more.

‘If it’s already hit 110,000 views in 10 minutes, this could easily
climb to millions.’

Woo-jin silently acknowledged that the scale of attention was no

surprise. His international popularity was skyrocketing, especially
after news of his involvement in projects like *Beauty and the Beast*
as a candidate for the “Beast” role. Audiences across various
countries were curious enough to search him up, and YouTube, in
turn, was offering the freshly dropped *Beneficial Evil* teaser,
drawing viewers from all over.

In reality…

‘The comments are wild.’

The comment section was already overwhelmed, with languages

ranging from Korean to Japanese, English, French, and more. A few
English comments caught Woo-jin’s attention.

-So this Korean actor is Kang Woo-jin, who’s in the running for the
role of Beast?

-You don’t suit the Beast role.

-Whoa, I searched for Kang Woo-jin and found his new project? A
Korean series? Guess I’ll watch it on Netflix and see.
-Looked him up, and it turns out he won Best Actor at Cannes last
year? I’m curious if he’s as good as they say.

-Miley Kara? Why is Miley Kara in a Korean project?

-Kang Woo-jin and Miley were great on her last album, but Disney
messed up by casting him for Beauty and the Beast.

-Why judge prematurely? He hasn’t even been confirmed yet.

The reactions ranged from supportive to skeptical to neutral,

without any clear consensus. Comments in Korean and Japanese
leaned more positive, expressing excitement for *Beneficial Evil*.
Many were Miley Kara fans eager to see her performance as well.
Still, over half the comments focused on Woo-jin’s possible casting
in *Beauty and the Beast*, with some expressing doubts and others
sheer curiosity.

The team members glanced at Woo-jin, who wore his usual poker
face, though he seemed unfazed.

‘They’re having a fit, and I haven’t even done the audition yet.’

Woo-jin was unbothered by the uproar, his confidence intact.

‘Well, it’s gonna be mine anyway.’

---

Settling into LA, Woo-jin began preparing in earnest for the *Pierrot*
audition and screen test. The days flew by amidst the Hollywood
buzz—everything from *Pierrot*’s upcoming audition to the
continued excitement around *Beauty and the Beast* casting and
the recent release of *Beneficial Evil* starring Woo-jin and Miley
Kara.

Meanwhile, Disney was carefully monitoring global reactions as they

proceeded with *Beauty and the Beast*.

“Hmm, the noise around Woo-jin isn’t dying down.”

“It was expected.”

“Yes, but it’s more intense than we anticipated.”

“It’s a bold decision, but we’re committed. Besides, there’s no final

decision yet, and even if Woo-jin is chosen, the end product will
speak for itself.”

Used to media frenzies, Disney remained unfazed. Columbia

Studios, however, was slightly taken aback, having been unaware of
Disney’s *Beauty and the Beast* announcement. The tables had
turned, now leaving Columbia surprised that Woo-jin was a
contender for both projects.

But with *Pierrot* on the horizon, they felt compelled to proceed.

This film was the launchpad for a massive “cinematic universe,”
making the stakes incredibly high. Some executives voiced
concerns.

“Did anyone know Woo-jin was in talks with Disney?”

“Even if we had, it wouldn’t change much. We’ve already announced

him, and the audition is days away.”

“There’s still time to reconsider. Sharing an actor with Disney is

unprecedented for us.”

“There won’t be an issue if our timelines are separate. Changing our

decision now would be the real blow to our pride.”

Some even brought up concerns about Woo-jin’s stamina.

“If he works on both films simultaneously, it could strain both

projects.”

But Director Ahn Ga-bok promptly shut down this worry.

“That won’t be an issue.”

“Pardon?”

“Woo-jin filmed multiple projects simultaneously during *The

Leech*, enduring a brutal schedule. I can vouch for him.”
Ultimately, they decided to proceed with the audition as planned.

---

January 25th, 10 AM, LA.

Within Columbia Studios, resembling a sprawling amusement park,

preparations were underway in a mid-sized hall where multiple tests
were to be conducted. The stage, equipped with a large screen,
lighting fixtures, and over a hundred seats, had a slightly intimate
theater feel.

The hall bustled with activity as at least 20 staff members worked

diligently.

“Move the table this way!”

“Is the camera setup ready?!”

“The table’s too small! We need a bigger one!”

“Check this spot; there’s a weird noise coming from the floor!”

Crew members were scattered across the stage, cleaning,

inspecting, setting up a long table with monitors, and positioning
various types of cameras. These were Columbia Studios’ people—
specifically, *Pierrot*’s production team.

Their energy was both nervous and passionate.

“Stay sharp, everyone! Remember, today’s *Pierrot* audition and

screen test is crucial!”

Today marked the beginning of *Pierrot*’s auditions and screen

tests, starting with the male lead candidates.

Roughly thirty minutes later, with the setup nearly complete, others
started to arrive. The first was a stern-looking woman with shoulder-
length hair—the executive producer of *Pierrot*. After inspecting the
hall, she nodded in approval.

“Looks good. Great work, everyone.”

Following her, *Pierrot*’s casting director, key staff, and Columbia
Studios’ executives began entering, with around eight executives in
total.

And then,

-Swish.

In came Director Ahn Ga-bok, the man tasked with launching

Columbia’s cinematic universe through *Pierrot*. Scanning the
expansive hall, he took a deep breath.

“Finally, we’re getting started.”

A fleeting thought of Woo-jin, who he’d soon meet, crossed his mind.

Once all the Columbia representatives were settled, the Hollywood

actors began to trickle in—the heavyweights competing for the lead
in *Pierrot*.

“Hello—”

The first actor, recognizable from his movies, entered with a team of
four staff members, greeting familiar faces among the crew before
taking a seat. Soon, other Hollywood actors arrived, exchanging
brief nods with one another and filling the seats. Most had come
with their teams.

The hall’s occupancy climbed over 50 as everyone awaited the

auditions and screen tests. The reason for this large gathering was
simple.

Today’s audition and screen test would be public, allowing everyone

present to witness the performances.

Then,

-Swish.

The fourth candidate entered the hall. A black-haired Korean actor,

his presence immediately drawing every *Pierrot* production
member’s and Columbia executive’s gaze. Hollywood actors turned
to look, each reacting internally.

‘So, that’s him—’

‘He seems taller than in photos…a striking presence.’

‘The only Korean actor. Guess we’ll see if he lives up to the hype
today.’

It was Kang Woo-jin. Unfazed by the attention, Woo-jin only had his
manager, Choi Sung-geon, with him. Despite his composed
expression, his inner thoughts were swirling.

‘Wow, this place is huge. And those actors… I’ve seen them all
somewhere. Incredible!’

Woo-jin then noticed something.

‘Ah, as expected.’

His attire matched that of the other actors sitting up front—he wore
a tattered red jacket and pants, a yellow vest, and worn brown
shoes, emulating “Henry Gordon” from *Pierrot*. His Hollywood
competitors had clearly chosen similar attire, some even styling
their hair like Henry’s later transformation into a longer-haired
villain.

The sight of these seasoned Hollywood stars accelerated Woo-jin’s

heartbeat. But he reminded himself of his mantra

—his steadfast persona and “beast mode” mindset.

As Woo-jin took in the scene, Sung-geon leaned in and whispered.

“Let’s go.”

Woo-jin nodded, only to hear a voice from behind.

“How have you been?”

He turned to see a tall, attractive man with striking hazel eyes—
Chris Hartnett, a top Hollywood actor who had a run-in with Woo-jin
in the past. Smiling, Chris extended his hand.

“Woo-jin, you’ll remember my name today, right?”

Woo-jin, stoic, took his hand.

“Hello, Chris.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing you act.”

“Same here.”

“Haha, this is going to be fun. Let’s go.”

Releasing his hand, Chris headed into the hall first, with Woo-jin
following suit. Soon, all five candidates for *Pierrot*’s lead role were
seated.

In the theater setup, the stage had a long table and monitor for the
executive producer, Director Ahn, and the casting director. The first
row held Columbia executives, while *Pierrot*’s key staff took seats
at the right end. Woo-jin and Sung-geon sat just behind, surrounded
by Hollywood actors and their teams.

The air was heavy with tension, yet calmly serious. The Columbia
executives gave the executive producer a nod, signaling the
beginning.

She cleared her throat and spoke in English.

“Shall we begin?”

Crew members manned the cameras onstage, and the monitors lit
up. Adjusting the lighting, Director Ahn and the judges opened
transparent files with the actors’ profiles. The producer addressed
the actors again.

“We’ll be doing things a bit differently today. You were informed

about performing both a prepared and an improvised scene, but
we’re focusing solely on the improvised performance.”
The Hollywood actors murmured quietly. Unperturbed, the producer
continued.

“So, feel free to perform any scene as ‘Henry Gordon,’ however you
interpret him.”

Chapter 392: Smashed (1)

Translator: Santos

The approach to the audition, as explained by *Pierrot*’s lead

producer, was straightforward yet impactful. Instead of performing a
designated scene, the actors were allowed to do a free
interpretation, but the character they had to embody was specified:
*Henry Gordon*, the male lead of *Pierrot*.

The gathered actors could portray *Henry Gordon* in any way they
saw fit. However, it was a strict requirement that the character’s
core essence be evident in their portrayal. This unexpected twist
hadn’t been disclosed by Columbia Studios in advance.

And so...

“This is rather sudden.”

The Hollywood actors, though they kept a composed appearance,

were clearly caught off guard.

“All the preparation we did went down the drain. How can they just
change things like this out of the blue?”

“Keep your voice down.”

“But you know I’m right.”

They had been told to prepare both a set piece and a free
performance, only for the rules to be abruptly changed at the last
minute, which gave them plenty of reason to grumble.
“I didn’t expect this. So what now? Should we try to mix what we
prepared together?”

“Focus. It looks like Columbia Studios wants to test our

improvisation skills.”

“Hmm.”

“It’s not really an issue, is it? Anyway, we’ve already prepared

*Henry Gordon* as a designated performance, so all you have to do
is layer *Henry Gordon* onto your free interpretation, right?”

“Like it’s that simple. Anyway, just be quiet for a second so I can
think.”

Chris Hartnett felt the same as the others, but compared to the
other actors, he seemed rather calm.

“Chris, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. There’s no need to be shaken. Sure, it’s a bit surprising,

but we’ve seen things like this happen in Hollywood plenty of
times.”

“That’s true.”

“In these situations, being bold can work to your advantage.”

“What are you planning to do?”

Without answering his manager’s question, Chris Hartnett turned his

head to the left. His gaze landed on Kang Woo-jin, who was sitting
some distance away. Chris’s eyes widened slightly as he took in
Woo-jin’s calm, almost indifferent expression as he rested his chin in
his hand.

‘…Is he not bothered by this? Or does he just not care? This guy is
impossible to read. What is he thinking? Well, considering the
circumstances, he’s probably feeling as serious as the rest of us but
just putting on a brave face.’
Wrong. At that moment, Kang Woo-jin was entirely unbothered. He
wasn’t even thinking that much.

‘So, when are they starting?’

To him, it didn’t matter whether it was a designated scene, a free

interpretation, or even a random mishmash of *Henry Gordon* as
the core of the free performance. Either way, he was prepared. After
all, both his designated and free performances had been crafted
with *Henry Gordon* in mind. Even if something went wrong—

*Swish.*

—he had the *Pierrot* script in his hand, encased in a sleek black
cover, so there was nothing to worry about.

Then, at that point—

“Since this was rather sudden,”

the lead producer on stage said, addressing the gathered actors.

“We’ll begin in ten minutes.”

This wasn’t so much giving them extra time as it was offering them
a brief moment to take a deep breath. Ten minutes wasn’t enough
to make any major adjustments, anyway.

And indeed, ten minutes passed in a flash.

Soon, the producer took her place again. After checking the
monitors directly in front of her, she called up one of the actors.

“The order has been decided randomly. Tom Brando, please come
forward.”

A man with a moderately built physique, more ruggedly handsome

than conventionally attractive, stood up. His name was Tom Brando,
a top actor in Hollywood known for his powerful performances. He,
too, was dressed in a suit reminiscent of *Henry Gordon*, though
the colors were subdued, a mix of gray, black, and brown, without
any makeup. Tom Brando was the first to step onto the stage
surrounded by cameras.

*Swish.*

The stage wasn’t just equipped with cameras. One corner was
stocked with various props, and there were single-seater sofas and
chairs available. It was up to the actors to decide how they would
use them. As Tom Brando reached the middle of the stage, Director
Ahn Ga-bok, seated at the judges’ table, glanced at the array of
monitors. They displayed full shots, front bust shots, side angles,
and back views of the actor. Director Ahn stroked his wrinkled cheek
thoughtfully.

‘As expected of a Hollywood top actor. The aura he gives off on

camera is exceptional.’

Alongside him, the other judges, including the female lead producer,
were all watching the monitors intently. While this was indeed an
audition, capturing the screen test footage on the monitors was just
as crucial. Then, the lead producer gave a nod to Tom Brando, who
was standing on stage.

“You may begin whenever you’re ready.”

Barely a second after she finished speaking, Tom Brando altered his
expression and posture. One hand slid into his pocket as he
straightened his back. His face tilted slightly, and a subtle smirk
appeared on his lips. He seemed to be channeling *Henry Gordon*
in the later, more awakened stage of his character arc in *Pierrot*.

Seeing Tom Brando switch characters so seamlessly, the judges’

expressions turned serious.

‘There’s no denying his talent. He’s immediately transforming into

the exact persona we envisioned.’

‘He shifted the atmosphere in an instant. Is he aiming for a Joker-

esque vibe?’

‘Yes, it matches the image of *Henry Gordon* in his later stages that
I had in mind.’
As Tom Brando glanced around at the cameras, he let out a short,
cynical laugh.

“All these damn eyes. Just trembling with fear, huh? Don’t shove
your pathetic kindness on me. Your so-called compassion is just a
defense because you don’t want to die. I’ll live as I please, got it?”

The words he spoke, filled with venom and disdain, carried no trace
of acting. He *was* *Henry Gordon*. The reason was simple.

“Psychiatric help? What are you going to fix? How about you start by
mending your own rotten brain?”

As the first actor on stage, Tom Brando had chosen a direct

approach, performing a scene directly from the *Pierrot* script as
his interpretation of free acting. And, given the context, it was
entirely permissible. In fact, it may have even been the more
effective choice.

‘…Excellent, just as expected.’

‘By performing a scripted scene, he’s creating a clear visual for us.’

Tom Brando’s choice to act out a specific scene from *Pierrot* gave
the judges, including Director Ahn Ga-bok, the feeling that they were
witnessing an actual shoot. His skilled acting only amplified the
effect, fully engaging their curiosity.

It was an unexpectedly bold choice.

By opting to perform a scripted scene as his free interpretation, Tom

Brando had already carved out a solid impression among the
contenders.

What’s more—

‘He chose a key moment.’

The scene Tom Brando picked was one of the most significant
moments in *Pierrot*. This ensured that his performance would be
all the more memorable. His acting continued for over ten minutes.
No one interrupted. The Columbia Studio executives in the audience
looked highly satisfied, while the Hollywood actors watched with
growing concern etched on their faces.

The judges were busy jotting down notes as they watched the
monitors.

And with that, Tom Brando’s performance concluded.

“That will be all for now.”

He shed *Henry Gordon’s* aura in an instant, almost at the same

speed as Woo-jin. After all, with over twenty years of experience, it
was natural for him to be this skilled. After exchanging brief, neutral
remarks with the judges, he left the stage. No evaluation was
exchanged, as this was less about rating the actors and more about
determining which actor fit *Henry Gordon* best.

After only the first performance, the standard of the audition had
significantly heightened.

“Next, Jack Gable.”

The second Hollywood top actor, Jack Gable, was called. With a
chiseled jawline but a somewhat fragile demeanor, Jack Gable,
another top name in Hollywood, took the stage.

Once on stage, he began his performance in a wild, unhinged

manner.

“Hee-hic! Hahaha! Aaah—ha!”

He slithered across the stage floor, occasionally shouting abruptly,

like a true madman. Watching him, one might think he was truly
deranged. His portrayal was intensely realistic. Additionally, within
his crazed demeanor—

“Let go! Let go of me!”

—*Henry Gordon’s* essence emerged. Jack Gable had expertly

mirrored the character’s habits. His hunched posture, specific
speech patterns, and subtle expressions perfectly captured the
intricate traits of *Henry Gordon* from the script.
His performance, though different in style from Tom Brando’s,
exuded a similarly powerful presence. Director Ahn Ga-bok observed
him through the monitor and then glanced at the live performance,
noting thoughtfully,

‘Ah, so he’s created his own interpretation of *Henry Gordon*’s

future.’

It was as if Jack Gable were showing a possible outcome for *Henry

Gordon* that wasn’t specified in the script, something he had
imagined for himself. In a way, both Tom Brando’s and Jack Gable’s
performances had exceeded expectations. Ahn Ga-bok was mildly
troubled.

‘I expected high standards, but all of them are this good. This is
going to be a challenge.’

Among these “monsters,” whom should they choose? Even during

Jack Gable’s turn, the eight Columbia Studio executives nodded in

satisfaction. The key staff from *Pierrot*’s team whispered praises.
Meanwhile, the expressions on the faces of the Hollywood actors
were mixed; none of them could celebrate their rivals’ exceptional
performances.

However, only one person—

“…”

Only one actor in the entire hall had an unchanging expression. That
actor was Kang Woo-jin. From the beginning of the audition until
now, his poker face had not wavered. He simply watched the other
actors’ performances with a steady gaze.

At that moment—

“Thank you for your hard work.”

Jack Gable’s performance concluded, and after a brief chat with the
judges, he stepped down from the stage with a satisfied smile on his
face.
Then—

“Next—”

The female producer holding the profile of the next actor glanced
toward the audience.

“Kang Woo-jin.”

Woo-jin’s name was called as the third actor. The Hollywood actors’
eyes sharpened at once. Chris Hartnett and a few others turned to
look at Woo-jin’s face. The Hollywood actors’ teams, the dozen-plus
key staff of *Pierrot*, the Columbia Studio executives in the front
row, and the judges on stage—all fifty-plus people in the hall
focused on Kang Woo-jin.

After all, he was both a rising star and the most unproven actor
among them. He also piqued the most curiosity.

Choi Sung-gon took a deep breath, his heart pounding.

“Phew, this is nerve-wracking. Woo-jin, go knock ‘em dead.”

With a dramatic gesture, he clutched his chest as if his heart would

burst, while Woo-jin remained calmly composed.

“I’ll be back.”

His tone was so calm that it came across as almost sardonic. Clad in
a red jacket, pants, a yellow vest, and worn-out brown shoes, Woo-
jin rose effortlessly.

*Swish.*

Though it was his first step in a lead audition for a Hollywood film,
Woo-jin showed not the slightest sign of tension. Walking with a
steady pace toward the stage, all fifty pairs of eyes in the hall
tracked his every movement. Each gaze held a different emotion—
skepticism, curiosity, hope, and scorn, among others.

Choi Sung-gon gulped nervously, his ponytail bouncing as he

tightened it.
‘Agh—Damn. My heart feels like it’s about to burst. I know Woo-jin
will do fine, but why am I so anxious?’

After all, Woo-jin hadn’t given him any hints about how he planned
to tackle the audition. Yet, as always, Choi Sung-gon placed his trust
entirely in Woo-jin.

With a neutral expression, Woo-jin ascended the stage surrounded

by several cameras.

Moments later, Woo-jin’s image appeared on the judges’ monitors,

and Ahn Ga-bok let out a quiet, tense breath.

‘Now, what will he show us?’

It wasn’t just him. The lead producer seated beside him had a
similar thought.

‘This Korean actor who’s stirred up Hollywood… let’s see what he’s
prepared.’

The casting directors, the two executives, the dozens of actors, and
the rest of the attendees all had the same question running through
their minds.

‘Alright, show us what you’ve got.’

But there was an underlying assumption that he might not match

the previous performances. The Hollywood actors before him had
delivered such outstanding portrayals. No sooner had Woo-jin
stepped onto the stage and appeared on the monitors than the lead
producer opened her mouth to give instructions.

However—

“Wait, what?”

Her words faltered. The reason was simple.

*Swish.*
Woo-jin had just done something unexpected. Unlike the previous
Hollywood actors, who had all stood center stage in the spotlight of
multiple cameras, Woo-jin brushed right past the center without a
care. He casually made his way to a single-seater sofa off to the side
and immediately plopped down.

Without any prior signal, he had gone “full-send.”

The foreign staff behind the cameras scrambled to adjust their focus
to his new position. Woo-jin lounged comfortably in the armchair as
the cameras aimed directly at him. The framing had changed
entirely; it now looked less like a performance and more like a solo
talk show.

For a brief moment, Director Ahn Ga-bok furrowed his brow slightly.

‘…Was this intentional?’

In contrast, the Hollywood actors, along with over fifty foreign

attendees, looked bewildered. Some blinked in confusion, uncertain
of what to make of it.

Then, breaking the silence—

“Ugh—”

Woo-jin crossed his legs and began to speak, commanding the

attention of everyone in the room.

“Living with a mask on… it’s a damn pain.”

His fluent English was immediately noticeable. Even more striking

was the fact that—

“Maybe I should start showing my real self from now on? Wow, when
was the last time I showed people who I truly am?”

—it didn’t feel like acting at all.

“Yeah, I’ve been living behind a mask. For years, even. I hid who I
was, but people still made all kinds of assumptions, thinking they
knew me. Right?”
Woo-jin’s words flowed without the usual crafted persona.

“Even you guys, right here, and the representative who came with
me in the back, too. All of you, actually. So here I am, finally
admitting it. My life’s taken some pretty unexpected turns, and
somehow, I’ve ended up here. And I gotta say, it feels… refreshing.
Huh? But what’s with your faces? Don’t believe me? I’m telling you,
everything you thought you knew was a mask. This right here? This
is the real deal.”

Every major figure in the hall was left speechless.

Chapter 393: Smashed (2)

Translator: Santos

**When was it again? Was it the time Hong Hye-yeon caught him
smirking to himself? Or maybe it was the first time he confessed to
CEO Choi Sung-gon about his "conceptual act"? In the beginning,
Woo-jin’s bravado and crafted persona had merely been a way to
cover up his insecurities, to ease his shame. But as
misunderstandings and misinterpretations piled up, this persona
grew larger, and over time, Woo-jin crossed the point of no return.**

Though he couldn't pinpoint exactly when, Woo-jin eventually came

to realize something about his performance as the arrogant,
monstrous actor.

‘Ah… if I keep going like this, nobody will ever believe me, even if I
confess my true self one day.’

This vague premonition gradually solidified into certainty.

‘If I yell, “No, I have a real self beneath this! It’s all just an act!” no
one will believe me anyway.’ Yet, he never tested it out, curious as
he was to see if it would actually turn out that way. He neither had
the time nor the reason to attempt such a test.

Despite this, Woo-jin’s persona as the “arrogant, monstrous actor”

continued to grow.
Gone were the days when he worried about being exposed. Now, he
brazenly enjoyed the risks, treating the precarious tightrope act of
his persona as a thrill in itself.

To the point where he could even say:

“Uh? Why are you all making those faces? You don’t believe me? I’m
telling you, all this time, it’s just been a mask, and this is the real
me.”

He chose to execute this revelation during a Hollywood lead role

audition for Columbia Studios, in a hall filled with Hollywood
superstars and industry giants, with countless cameras on stage and
a sea of gazes fixed on him.

‘Wow—this is insanely liberating.’

In this overwhelming environment, Woo-jin declared his crafted

persona boldly. It wasn’t that he wasn’t nervous—his heart had been
pounding since he stepped onto this stage for the audition and
screen test. The foreign actors radiated a unique aura, and the
performances from some of Hollywood’s finest actors were truly
impressive. It was a reminder of just how vast the world was.

Had he been his old self, he would’ve been desperately clinging to

survival, focusing all his energy solely on maintaining his crafted
persona and performance. His field of vision would’ve been narrow,
and his mental bandwidth strained.

But now, things were different.

He could see the entire hall at a glance—the serious expression on

Director Ahn Ga-bok’s face, the stunned Columbia Studios
executives and actors, the bewildered foreign crew members glued
to their cameras.

Even the furrowed brows of Choi Sung-gon.

Today, Woo-jin viewed these Hollywood titans as experimental

subjects, an audience for his first, real confession about the “true”
him.
‘This is hilarious.’

To everyone else, this place was a sacred, profound venue. To Woo-

jin, it was merely a playground full of thrills. The temperature
difference was stark.

And even now—

‘Look at the expressions on those Hollywood stars’ faces, hehe.

They’re probably wondering what the heck is going on, right?’

He felt fully confident that he could blow these superstars away.

When had he decided this? Probably around the time he was poring
over the script for *Pierrot*. Woo-jin had realized then that the
protagonist, *Henry Gordon*, was similar to him. *Henry Gordon*,
too, had a dual nature—an ordinary citizen’s facade, concealing a
“Joker” within.

Except, unlike Woo-jin, it was reversed.

“*Henry Gordon*’s real self was the ‘Joker,’ while he merely acted as
an ordinary citizen.”

Woo-jin’s real self was the ordinary citizen, while his crafted persona
was an act. Although there were slight differences, their opposite
situations were strangely resonant. Ultimately, they both wore
masks, living lives turned upside-down, becoming monsters. This
naturally brought storytelling to Woo-jin’s mind.

He didn’t need to rely on *Pierrot*’s *Henry Gordon*. Given their

similar circumstances, he could simply use his own life as the
backdrop, displaying his current “persona-heavy” situation. Of
course, he’d do so as *Henry Gordon*. That moment, Woo-jin chose
freedom over the “free performance” the *Pierrot* audition called
for. And, paradoxically, his mind cleared.

There was no need to prepare anything.

“Why are you all looking so dumbfounded? Shocked? Well, sure, I

guess it’s understandable. But this is the truth, what can I do? Ha—
feels like I’ve cleared out some mental trash. Anyway, by pure
chance, I ended up having to put on a mask, and that incident
changed my life to a massive extent. I’m living proof of it, proof.”

And so, he just laid it out as it was. Overthinking would be a waste.

It might have been reckless, but the current Woo-jin was in “no-
holds-barred” mode. Exposed? Caught? It didn’t matter. Right now,
he was enjoying the act of confession itself. All they had to do was
sit quietly and listen to the real story of him, his true self.

Dressed as *Henry Gordon*, Woo-jin sat in the single-seater sofa, his

movements becoming increasingly unrestrained.

“There were plenty of funny moments because of this mask. My

close friends were all completely shocked.”

As all eyes in the hall remained focused on him, Woo-jin crossed his
legs the other way and gestured toward the judges’ table.

“That gentleman over there—he’s praised as a living legend in the

Korean film industry, but he went ahead and made assumptions
about me, too. Right, sir?”

A faint smile played on Woo-jin’s lips. The foreign attendees,

including the lead producer, turned their gazes to Director Ahn Ga-
bok. Though Woo-jin had spoken sincerely, the wrinkles between
Ahn Ga-bok’s brows didn’t relax. Woo-jin continued speaking in the
meantime.

“To be honest, I was nothing more than an idiot. I’ve made some
progress since then, though.”

Woo-jin was openly confessing now, revealing himself with 100%

sincerity.

However, the audience’s reaction was peculiar. It started with Ahn

Ga-bok, whom Woo-jin had just singled out.

‘…I see. He’s overlaying *Henry Gordon* onto the current situation.
So, the setting is Kang Woo-jin, but the character is *Henry
Gordon.*’
Director Ahn Ga-bok, a perceptive man, began to misconstrue the
situation with remarkable speed. Despite Woo-jin’s blunt honesty, a
spiral of misunderstandings had begun.

‘It’s as though *Henry Gordon* himself is taking this audition.’

By now, not only Director Ahn Ga-bok but even Choi Sung-gon in the
audience should have been so shocked that he would spring to his
feet. It wouldn’t have been strange if the Hollywood elites had
grown indignant, wondering why someone like this had even shown
up for the audition. But the more Woo-jin spoke, the more honestly
he confessed—

“This is actually quite fun. The more I’m put in situations like this,
the more I end up enjoying them.”

—the more these bizarre misunderstandings grew.

Even Choi Sung-gon, witnessing the unfiltered truth, was not

immune.

‘So this is why he said he didn’t mind the change in audition format.
If he just performs as *Henry Gordon* under these circumstances,
then it doesn’t matter what unexpected twist the audition throws at
him. What a chilling guy. And I love him for it.’

No confession would work on them. And now, this epidemic of

“misunderstanding” spread to the minds of all the foreigners in the
hall. Starting with the lead producer, a woman with a stern
expression seated beside Director Ahn Ga-bok.

“Could it be… that he’s portraying Kang Woo-jin’s presence at this

audition as *Henry Gordon*?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Turning reality into performance, a true expression of free acting.”

Several Columbia Studio executives shared similar thoughts.

‘So he’s framing the current setting as *Henry Gordon* experiencing

this audition in real-time?’
‘Beginning with that unexpected move to the sofa, he’s drawing
everyone’s attention, making it seem as though *Henry Gordon* is
freely expressing himself. Unexpected, indeed.’

Even the dozen or so key staff members and Hollywood actors

murmured with interest.

‘The moment he stepped onto the stage, he was… a “Joker,” wasn’t

he? It’s certainly an unusual performance.’

‘The acting style—is it Method acting? I see why he won Best Actor
at Cannes.’

Watching from the stage, Chris Hartnett couldn’t help but smile as
he observed Woo-jin.

‘It feels like I’m watching a one-man talk show. The protagonist is
*Henry Gordon*, and the audience is everyone here. Haha, what a
fantastic idea. It doesn’t even seem like acting. It’s as if a real
“Joker” is sitting here, speaking excitedly. I can only imagine how
much time he’s invested to pull off this level of realism.’

Nobody in the hall recognized the truth of Woo-jin’s confession.

Truly, it was maddening. Woo-jin hadn’t acted once since he
stepped onto the stage, yet everyone believed he was delivering an
incredibly realistic performance. Not that Woo-jin particularly
minded.

‘Hmm—look at that. No one has a face that says they believe me. I
knew it.’

He had expected as much, so he didn’t care. This situation wasn’t

bad for him at all. In fact, it only

served to amplify his presence several times over. The reason was
simple: he had yet to actually *perform*. The true *Henry Gordon*
was about to begin.

Suddenly—

*Swish.*
With all the cameras fixed on him, Woo-jin uncrossed his legs and
stood up from the sofa. Casually adjusting his red jacket, he spoke
up with a playful smile.

“Since I mentioned it, should I show you what I was like before the
mask? Back when I was a naive civilian? It’ll be fun, like a little
event.”

In a brief moment, Woo-jin summoned the *Henry Gordon* from the

early scenes of *Pierrot*. But instead of sticking solely to *Henry
Gordon*, he added in Private Jin Sun-chul from *Island of the
Missing*, merging their personas. Both the meek and the rough
characters blended together.

There was no need to confine the dialogue to the *Pierrot* universe.

Woo-jin had unlocked “freedom of role,” allowing him to do and say

anything he pleased as the composite *Henry Gordon*.

“Uh… um…”

Suddenly, the confidence disappeared from Woo-jin’s face, replaced

by an entirely different expression. His posture turned slightly
grotesque as his shoulders slumped, his back hunched, and his
hands trembled slightly. His gaze reflected low self-esteem, his eyes
filled with anxiety, and a heavy air of melancholy surrounded him. In
the blink of an eye, the figure on stage transformed. The real
performance had just begun after Woo-jin’s “confession.”

However—

“Hm?”

“Ha—”

“Just like that?”

To Director Ahn Ga-bok and everyone in the hall, it looked like Woo-
jin was controlling the pacing of his emotions. As if playing with
them. Oblivious to this, Woo-jin lowered his gaze to the stage floor.
He briefly scanned the audience before quickly averting his eyes, his
posture oozing nervousness. Please, don’t look at me. His body
language practically screamed that he was uncomfortable and
distressed.

“I feel like throwing up. How long do I have to keep doing this?”

Their attention was overwhelming. His desperation was palpable.

Woo-jin wanted to flee. It was the first time he had stood on stage
like this, the center of attention. Why? Why did he have to compete
with these monsters for a role? Couldn’t he just live a quiet life?
Maybe he should give up. Yeah, maybe he should just lower his
head and quietly leave.

As Woo-jin made this decision, he began to back away with his

hunched posture, each step producing a faint scraping sound on the
floor.

Why is the sound so loud?

Then—

*Swish.*

Hunching his shoulders, Woo-jin’s gaze met the camera to his side.
To be precise, he locked eyes with the man behind the camera, who
had an intrigued look in his blue eyes. But to Woo-jin, channeling the
pre-awakened *Henry Gordon*, that gaze held a different meaning.

Scorn, contempt, disregard, discrimination, oppression.

Don’t look at me. Stop looking at me like that. I didn’t do anything

wrong. Why are you attacking me? People’s gazes may not be
physical blows, but over time, they become mental assault. A
sudden anger welled up within Woo-jin.

“Don’t… don’t look at me like that.”

The anger grew stronger.

“Damn it, I said don’t look at me!”

The rough persona of Private Jin Sun-chul contributed to his boiling

rage. His heart felt ready to burst. His blood pulsed with fury. With
fists clenched, Woo-jin’s gaze sharpened, a hint of murder in his
eyes. It wasn’t overwhelming, but it was there, building.

Should he hit him? Headbutt him? Or maybe use the metal chair
behind that jerk?

The pent-up anger felt like it would explode any moment. Though
his back remained hunched and his demeanor timid, a monster was
beginning to reveal itself from within.

At that moment, he forced himself to calm down.

Hold back. *Henry Gordon*’s societal restraint. Woo-jin unclenched

his fists, then broke eye contact with the man. He turned away,
taking a few steps. But the anger hadn’t dissipated. Avoidance had
only slightly contained his rage.

*Smack!*

Woo-jin slapped his own head.

*Smack, smack!*

Three times, each with considerable force. Then, he returned to the

single-seater sofa and struck his head a few more times before
taking a long, steadying breath.

“Hoo—”

For about five seconds, silence filled the room. Hunched over, Woo-
jin stared at the stage floor. At this point, everyone watching him
thought the same thing.

‘…Is that the end?’

They assumed his performance was over. The first to speak was—

“Kang Woo-jin.”

One of the Columbia Studios executives, a bald man seated at the

judges’ table, addressed him. He seemed ready to ask a question
when—
“Khehe, hahaha!”

Out of nowhere, Woo-jin laughed as he slowly stood up. His posture

changed again. His slumped shoulders straightened, and his chest
puffed out confidently. One hand slid into his pocket, effectively
silencing the bald executive as Woo-jin, grinning slyly, strode toward
him.

His stride was nothing like the timid walk from before.

*Swish.*

Woo-jin came to a halt directly in front of the judges’ table, looking

down at the bald executive. His right hand moved, reaching into his
jacket pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. Woo-jin placed a
cigarette in his mouth and lit it, a sinister grin spreading across his
face. After taking a deep drag, he exhaled a plume of smoke toward
the bald man.

“Hoo—”

The executive frowned deeply, his gaze locked onto Woo-jin.

‘What the hell is this guy doing? But those eyes… they’re…
something else.’

Woo-jin now gave off a wholly different vibe than when he had been
babbling on stage. This aura was far more intense, filled with
madness and menace.

What was this? This isn’t how he was at first. And how do I even
describe his actions right now?

Acting? Or reality?

As questions filled the bald executive’s mind, Woo-jin’s right hand

moved.

*Thump!*

His hand landed on the bald executive’s head. Like grasping a squid
head, Woo-jin gently shook his hand back and forth on the man’s
scalp before leaning his face in close, his smile widening almost
unnaturally.

“Call me *Joker*, you damn bald head.”

The moment Kang Woo-jin was called on stage by the bald-headed

executive, he began summoning a different persona.

‘Next.’

Woo-jin brought forth the fully awakened *Henry Gordon*, adding in

Jang Yeon-woo from *Beneficial Evil*. Combining the two heightened
the madness and violence to a staggering degree. Yet, the “freedom
of role” remained, and the vulnerable *Henry Gordon* had vanished
entirely.

This completed an untethered, truly “no-holds-barred” *Henry

Gordon*.

Would he care about the stares of others? Would he feel any fear or
worry? Could anyone here possibly stop him? Not even a hail of
gunfire would halt Woo-jin in his current state. Auditions?
Hollywood? Acting? The role? None of it mattered now.

All he needed was a cigarette.

Standing before the judges, Woo-jin took a drag with absolute

nonchalance, disregarding all etiquette or concern. Only his own will
and decisions mattered.

“Hoo—”

This monster beyond awakening stared down at the bald-headed

executive. He despised the look on his face. Did this squid-headed
bastard just call him “Kang Woo-jin”?

Maybe he should kill him.

No. Perhaps it would be more fun to toy with him a little longer. But
he should deliver a warning to this squid-headed fool.

*Thump!*
Exhaling smoke, Woo-jin shook the executive’s head as if it were a
toy.

“Call me ‘Joker,’ you damn bald head.”

Woo-jin looked as if he might rip the man’s head off. Taking another
long drag, he flicked the smoking butt into the executive’s coffee
cup, the soft hissing sound filling the room. The executive’s
thoughts froze.

“…”

He could barely comprehend what was happening. Was this even

real? His eyes had already widened in shock. Nothing in his life had
prepared him for a situation like this.

Above all—

‘What… what is this?’

He couldn’t even recognize the “Kang Woo-jin” before him. He was

confused. Where did the act begin, and where did it end? Wasn’t he
just playing the weak *Henry Gordon*? How did he suddenly
become *Joker*? Or had he been *Joker* the entire time? And was
this even acting?

Questions flooded his mind, and he wasn’t alone. Everyone who

witnessed Woo-jin’s hand on the bald executive’s head was equally
stunned.

“…”

“…”

“…”

Though none of them spoke, the shock was evident in their widened
eyes, starting with Director Ahn Ga-bok seated with the judges—

‘…Is he losing control? This is… excessive.’

The lead producer and several others around exchanged worried
glances.

‘What the hell is happening here?!’

‘Is he insane?! Should we stop this?!’

‘Hold on, this is dangerous!’

Even the Columbia Studio executives watching were horrified.

‘This guy’s a complete lunatic!’

The Hollywood stars were left dazed, with only Chris Hartnett
managing to keep his composure. Remembering when Woo-jin had
asked his name, he thought,

‘This… surpasses anything I imagined. A genuine eccentric. But… is

this *Joker* acting, or…? I can’t tell.’

Meanwhile, the dozen or so crew members exchanged whispers, and

Choi Sung-gon looked on, casting nervous glances.

‘Hey, Woo-jin… Is this okay? Aren’t you going too far?’

But Woo-jin had no intention of stopping. Releasing his grip on the

executive’s head, he spoke in a calm voice.

“I could quit this ridiculous audition without a problem. I just came

to see what you all are made of, but honestly, you’re boring me.”

With his twisted grin still in place, Woo-jin took another drag.

“Let’s all have some fun together. Ditch this dull audition. And hey,
you damn bald head.”

With a crazed look, Woo-jin locked eyes with the executive and
wrapped his hands around his own neck.

“Call me Kang Woo-jin one more time, and I’ll kill you.”

“…”
Then Woo-jin suddenly laughed, running a hand through his black
hair.

“Just kidding. Don’t get all scared, friend.”

He spun around and spread his arms toward the audience,

declaring,

“*Joker*. Isn’t it beautiful?”

His body language was filled with a strange sense of self-admiration,

his expression radiating freedom. The Hollywood actors watching
Woo-jin no longer saw him as a competitor.

They were merely his audience.

In truth, Woo-jin treated them as just that. The reason was simple:
this wasn’t an act. The awakened *Henry Gordon*, the *Joker*, had
completely taken over the stage, filling it with his presence. If this
was acting, it was too real to be mere performance.

In fact, it wasn’t acting at all.

From the moment Woo-jin had set foot on the stage, he hadn’t
“performed” a single line. Kang Woo-jin was *Joker*, and *Joker* was
Kang Woo-jin.

“Come on, join in. Isn’t that why you came here to imitate me?”

Nice try. Sure, I was a bit impressed with how similar you were. But
an imitation is only that—a mere shadow. No one can surpass the
real thing. Woo-jin exhaled a long stream of smoke, casting a
disdainful gaze toward the Hollywood actors in the audience.

“Have any of you ever killed someone?”

Of course not. But that was okay; you didn’t need to kill someone for
an audition. At that moment—

*Swish.*
Woo-jin raised both arms, summoning his “piano” ability. He began
moving his fingers in the air, his shoulders bouncing rhythmically. It
was silent, yet his mind was filled with intricate piano melodies.

“Some music would be nice.”

After a moment of imaginary piano playing, Woo-jin lowered his

hands and then began stomping his feet as if tap-dancing. With a
clap, he spun around and took another drag from his cigarette.

“Hoo—Well, I think I’ll be going now. I saw some interesting things.

Oh, and keep imitating me, spread it around.”

Kang Woo-jin—the *Joker* on stage—was breaking down every

conventional barrier of the audition, shattering everyone’s
perception of him. As Ahn Ga-bok watched Woo-jin’s retreating
figure, he chuckled to himself.

‘There hasn’t been any “acting” on that stage since he walked up

there.’

The lead producer next to him, glancing at Ahn Ga-bok, seemed to

have a similar thought.

‘Was *Joker* simply here to enjoy an audition meant for him? Calling
him a monster would be an understatement.’

No one saw the creature on stage as just an actor. To them, he was

simply Kang Woo-jin, *Henry Gordon*, *Joker*. The boundaries of
acting had blurred into oblivion.

“…”

“…”

Everyone could do nothing but stare at Woo-jin, completely

paralyzed.

‘How… how do we even compete with that?’

‘Acting? How could that possibly be considered acting?’

The Hollywood actors’ faces betrayed their utter disbelief. Ultra-tier
Hollywood star Chris Hartnett watched Woo-jin on stage with a
newfound sense of awe.

‘My own acting feels pathetic in comparison. This is the first time
I’ve ever felt pure wonder watching another actor. Haha, no, that’s
not even acting.’

At that moment—

“That was fun.”

With a smirk stretching ear to ear, Woo-jin waved to the audience

before suddenly—

*Swish.*

—he changed his expression, and the atmosphere shifted. It was

heavier, all in a flash. Instantly, he seemed to snap back into his
“crafted” persona, his face settling into an intense poker face.

“…”

He spoke to the judges with formal politeness.

“I’ll end it here.”

It was a declaration that everything they’d witnessed had been

“acting.” Only then did everyone in the hall begin to snap out of
their daze, one by one.

“Oh.”

“Uh…”

“Right, of course.”

They managed to regain their senses, but they were left utterly
confused.

‘…Was *Joker* pretending to be Kang Woo-jin?’

The chaos was understandable. After all, they couldn’t discern which
parts had been real and which had been acting.

Meanwhile, Woo-jin’s thoughts were light-hearted.

‘Yep, I think I showed them everything I wanted. Though maybe I

went a bit overboard with that bald guy? Whatever, it should be
fine.’

He felt perfectly at ease.

Shortly after, he’d shown every aspect of his storytelling—from the

confessional, unawakened *Henry Gordon*, to the completely
unhinged *Joker*. Whether he was Kang Woo-jin or *Joker*, it didn’t
matter; he had unleashed his full potential on that stage.

And now—

‘Back to the persona!’

Woo-jin resumed his composed, dignified demeanor, a necessary

part of him. With an indifferent expression, he walked down from the
stage, moving confidently toward where Choi Sung-gon was waiting.

Interestingly, the entire hall was silent at that moment.

“…”

“…”

Even as Woo-jin approached his seat, no one dared to speak. They

simply watched him slowly return to his place. When people are
faced with something utterly beyond their expectations, they tend
to freeze. The only exception was Director Ahn Ga-bok, who smiled
with a slightly wrinkled expression.

As Woo-jin took his seat next to Choi Sung-gon, he greeted him in a

composed, understated voice.

“I’m back.”
His tone was calm, almost subdued, as though he had just returned
from a casual outing. Choi Sung-gon, still in shock, blinked at him.

“…Oh—uh, yeah. Right. Good job. But, Woo-jin… isn’t it strange how
calm you seem?”

“Is it?” Woo-jin looked around at the silent room, noticing the many
stunned eyes still fixed on him. They all seemed frozen in place,
processing what they had just witnessed. He smirked a little,
muttering under his breath, “Looks like they’re really staring.”

“Nothing to worry about,” he replied, casually brushing off the

attention.

“Nothing to worry about… yeah, okay,” Sung-gon replied with a

sigh, clearly struggling to shake off the impact of Woo-jin’s
performance. Then, in a lower voice, he added, “You tore it up out
there. Those Hollywood stars? I can barely even remember their
performances. That first scene you did, where the character started
off confessing and then slipped back into his usual persona to
handle the current situation—that was just… incredible.”

But Woo-jin remained as unruffled as ever.

“Thank you.”

At that moment, the lead producer in the judges’ row finally

managed to regain her composure and broke the silence.

“...Alright, let’s continue.”

She turned to the remaining profiles, her fingers trembling slightly

as she flipped through the sheets, preparing to call the next actor.
Despite Woo-jin’s lingering presence, the show had to go on. Her
voice carried through the room, steady but strained.

“The next actor is…”

With this, she announced the name of the fourth Hollywood actor.
Slowly, the Hollywood veteran rose from his seat, and as he
ascended the stage, his face showed signs of deep apprehension.
Watching him, Director Ahn Ga-bok gave a quiet chuckle.
‘He's shaken, no doubt. After witnessing that violent display from
Woo-jin, his confidence is rattled. In fact, the two actors who went
before him had it much easier by comparison. Who wouldn’t feel
intimidated after seeing such an intense performance?’

The fourth actor was indeed a seasoned talent in Hollywood, yet his
performance suffered noticeably. He fumbled his lines several times,
visibly affected by the previous act, and though he made it through,
his expression was one of deep frustration as he left the stage.

Finally, the lead producer called the name of the last actor—Chris
Hartnett, the Hollywood star with whom Woo-jin had some history.
Chris rose to his feet, only to stay where he was, raising a hand in
the air to signal the judges.

“I’m withdrawing from the audition,” he announced calmly.

This was a first for Chris Hartnett—a true Hollywood A-lister—

walking away from an audition.

Several minutes later, the chaotic *Pierrot* audition and screen test
came to an end. In the sprawling parking lot outside, the door to a
large, black SUV opened. Chris Hartnett’s team filed in, all silent as
they took their seats. Once everyone was settled, Chris spoke up.

“Drive.”

The SUV sped out of the parking lot, the air inside tense. Chris’s
manager, breaking the silence, glanced at him in disbelief.

“…Chris. After all that preparation, why did you withdraw? I mean, I
get it—Woo-jin’s performance was… intense… but were you really
that impressed?”

Staring out the window, Chris let out a soft laugh.

“Didn’t you see? *Joker* himself showed up in that room.”

Thinking back to the chillingly authentic performance he had just

witnessed, Chris added with a wry smile:
“No matter what I would’ve done, I’d only be playing around in front
of the real thing.”

Chapter 395: Full Bloom (1)

Translator: Santos

Chris Hartnett was a Hollywood superstar on par with Miley Cara in

terms of fame, influence, and impact. Yet here he was, humbled by
the thought of a Korean actor, Kang Woo-jin.

"I did put in a lot of preparation, but... I don’t know, the idea of
performing like a clown in front of the 'real thing' just made my mind
go blank."

Referring to his own performance as a mere "act," Chris felt that it

wasn’t just him—every Hollywood actor who had been present at
the audition was in the same boat.

"Whether you went before or after Kang Woo-jin, the result would
have been the same. To him, we must have looked like kids playing
in a sandbox."

Chris imagined that Woo-jin, with his lofty persona, would have just
scoffed at them all. Though Chris had been eager to showcase the
work he’d put into his performance, witnessing Woo-jin’s *Joker*
made it impossible for him to move forward.

A matter of pride, perhaps.

He usually had high self-confidence and took any jealousy he felt as

fuel to push himself further. That was why he had been excited for a
showdown with Woo-jin. But with the *real deal,* there could be no
competition.

"There was no way I could go out there and perform like a clown."

They say that giving up requires courage, too. Chris decided to drop
out after witnessing Woo-jin's overwhelming performance, sparing
himself the hope of "maybe just a little more, and I’ll get there,"
which only serves to drain a person.
Chris stared out the window, letting out a long sigh.

"Honestly, it doesn’t feel too bad to back out."

A faint, bitter smile crossed his lips. His team members watched him
carefully, sensing his mood, and Chris, noticing their concern,
shrugged and gestured that he was okay.

"I'm really fine. Not feeling bad about this is the truth. Besides, this
might even work in my favor someday."

Encouraged by Chris’s positive mindset, his portly manager nodded.

"If you say so—got it. You did well. Now let’s move on and start
looking at other projects."

Chris turned back to the window, a glint of determination in his

eyes.

"But tell me, how did Woo-jin’s performance look to you?"

"…Honestly, I still can’t believe it. I mean, he won Best Actor at

Cannes, but I never imagined it would be like that. After seeing him
clash with you in the past, I feel embarrassed that I ever
underestimated him."

"Haha, then apologize to him next time."

"Hey! I never said it out loud! Anyway, let’s focus on what’s next. Go
over those other scripts we’ve received, and I’ll get ready for the
meetings we’ve lined up."

As his manager reached for his phone, Chris turned back to him.

"I may have given up the role of *Henry Gordon,* but I haven’t given
up on *Pierrot.*"

"What?"

"Wouldn’t you want to see it? A *Joker* that’s completely perfected?

I’m insanely curious."
"You’re not saying…"

Chris’s smile grew as he crossed his legs.

"Get in touch with the Columbia Studios people. Tell them I want a
different role in the film, just not *Henry Gordon.*"

"A different role? You do know that in *Pierrot,* if it’s not *Henry
Gordon,* the best you can get is a supporting role."

"I don’t care."

For someone like Chris, who had been a Hollywood A-lister for years,
it was a decision that left his manager speechless. But Chris
Hartnett looked refreshed, already picturing Woo-jin in his mind.

"I just want to be in *Pierrot,* whatever role it is. Even if it's just a
minor part."

Meanwhile, back at the *Pierrot* audition venue…

As the many vans slowly began leaving the vast Columbia Studios
lot, one of the last to pull out carried Woo-jin. He’d exchanged the
usual greetings with staff and had a short chat with Director Ahn Ga-
bok after the *Pierrot* audition and screen test had wrapped up.

Woo-jin checked his phone, which was full of missed messages.

Even though he was scrolling through them, his thoughts wandered
back to the audition he had just finished. It was such a wild
experience that his adrenaline still hadn’t completely subsided.

‘That was a hell of a lot of fun.’

He didn’t have any regrets. He’d put everything he had into the
performance.

‘Out of everyone there, I’m pretty sure I made the strongest

impression. Even Director Ahn and the CEO said so. Maybe I went a
little overboard, but—so what.’

Despite having shattered the audition, Woo-jin knew that his

acceptance wasn’t guaranteed. Hollywood was known for its
surprises, after all. And from what he’d heard, Hollywood didn’t base
casting decisions solely on acting skills—they looked at everything
from an actor’s public image to reputation. They’d dig deep into his
background and go over him with a fine-toothed comb.

‘Korean actors don’t exactly have much footing in Hollywood. Oh

well, if I don’t get it, there’s plenty else to do.’

He didn’t mind if he didn’t get *Pierrot*—even if it was an EX+ level

opportunity. Hollywood was vast, and there would be plenty of roles
down the line. Tossing away any lingering worries, Woo-jin looked
up at his team members, who were buzzing with questions.

"Oppa! How did it go??"

"Yeah! Seriously! You haven’t said a word! Was the audition okay?"

"Of course, it went great, right? Oppa, you totally crushed those
Hollywood stars, didn’t you?"

"Hey, what was Chris Hartnett like in person?"

"I saw Tom Brando earlier, and wow, he was incredible."

Besides Choi Sung-gon, no one from Woo-jin’s team had seen the
audition, so they were naturally curious. Choi Sung-gon, who had
been sitting in the front seat and watching Woo-jin’s expression in
the rearview mirror, turned around.

"Woo-jin."

The intensity of what he had witnessed was overwhelming. In his

mind, Woo-jin had completely outshone the Hollywood actors. Even
Chris Hartnett had withdrawn. It seemed likely that Woo-jin would
land the role, and Sung-gon’s heart pounded with the possibility.
After three years, Woo-jin’s entry into a leading role in Hollywood
seemed within reach.

Sung-gon asked him,

"What do you think?"

What am I supposed to know? Woo-jin didn’t know much either,
though he had prepared himself for the possibility of rejection. For
now, he threw on a smug attitude.

"You should probably start thinking about my new rate."

Sung-gon grinned at him.

"Kekeke, I thought you’d say that."

Sung-gon had already decided on Woo-jin’s new rate.

"Don’t worry. I’ve got it all figured out."

And it would be leagues beyond what they’d ever seen.

Meanwhile…

When it was late morning in LA, it was early morning in Korea,

where the upcoming release of *Beneficial Evil* was creating a
storm of excitement.

『As *Beneficial Evil* nears release, teaser and trailer views hit
millions… global audiences eagerly await premiere』

Woo-jin’s news was gradually spreading.

『[Star Talk] Kang Woo-jin heads to LA, wrapping up the *Pierrot*

audition and screen test—what’s the verdict?』

『*Pierrot* audition finishes… How did Kang Woo-jin fare against

Hollywood heavyweights like Chris Hartnett?』

News of *Pierrot’s* audition completion was quickly picked up by

Korean media, and soon, public interest followed. Speculation about
the audition details, how Woo-jin had measured up against
Hollywood’s elite, and when the results might be announced spread
quickly on social media and online forums.

As expected, rumors and gossip began swirling.

- "I heard from an insider that Woo-jin totally bombed the audition,
lol. FYI, I work at a production company in New York."

The buzz was electric, and the rumors spread like wildfire. What was
interesting was that similar rumors were also circulating in
Hollywood, and the ones from Hollywood carried a bit more weight.

"They say there was an actor who totally stunned the judges in the
*Pierrot* audition."

"Really? Well, it makes sense; there were some big names in the
lineup. But what about Kang Woo-jin?"

"Not sure. Haven’t heard anything about him. The fact that things
are so quiet probably means he didn’t stand out much."

The reason was simple: people like key staff members who had
been present at the *Pierrot* audition were the source of these
rumors. Although the details were confidential, word had spread
throughout LA about the general atmosphere at the audition.

"I heard there was even an actor who quit the audition."

"Quit? An audition? Were they sick or something? Who was it?"

"Not sure of the name, but my guess is it was Kang Woo-jin."

So, two days passed.

On Friday, the 28th…

As soon as morning arrived, the large conference room at Columbia

Studios, one of Hollywood’s “Big Five” studios, filled up. The U-
shaped tables could comfortably hold more than fifty people.
Familiar faces dotted the room.

And for good reason.

Everyone here was part of the *Pierrot* production team or

Columbia Studios executives. Even some of those who had observed
the audition were present, including Director Ahn Ga-bok and the
lead producer.
The atmosphere was a bit heavy.

Everyone was watching the footage of the *Pierrot* audition and

screen test that was

playing on the screen at the front of the room. This gathering was
meant to help them come to a decision after reviewing the audition.

Hollywood actors appeared on screen one by one.

They were clearly talented. Even on second viewing, their

performances held up well. Normally, this would have been the
moment when the decision-makers would start debating their
choices, discussing the actors in depth to settle on their selection.

But no one looked moved, and no one said a word.

“……”

“……”

“……”

They simply watched the audition footage in silence.

Then…

**[“Next—Kang Woo-jin.”]**

With the lead producer’s voice, the screen lit up with an image of
Woo-jin in his red jacket.

Immediately, the room's mood shifted.

There were small gasps and sighs of admiration, mixed with

muttered comments of surprise. Some people even held their hands
over their mouths, and a few let out a chuckle of disbelief. Soon,
footage of Woo-jin gripping the bald producer’s head filled the
screen. That producer rubbed his own head as the memory of Woo-
jin’s intense gaze and palpable violence resurfaced.

‘That mad look in his eyes, that fury… it’s still fresh in my mind.’
The tension in the room grew heavier, and as soon as Woo-jin’s
portion ended, the atmosphere fell completely silent. A few
murmurs broke out when Chris Hartnett’s statement of withdrawal
was replayed.

Five minutes passed…

The conference room, filled with Hollywood’s elite, remained quiet.

Columbia Studios, which had produced countless blockbusters, had
never seen anything like this before. Not a single person offered a
word on the audition footage.

It was as though they were wondering if anything they said would

even matter.

Everyone in the room was having similar thoughts.

‘Is there really any room for debate?’

‘I think… everyone’s reached the same conclusion.’

‘Have we ever reached a decision this quickly after an audition?’

‘Seeing it again, he still gives me chills. There’s nothing to discuss.’

‘Honestly… I can’t even remember the other actors anymore.’

Director Ahn Ga-bok surveyed the faces of the foreign decision-

makers in the room.

‘I’ve never been so shaken by the appearance of such a monster of

an actor. I understand why they’re stunned; I was, too.’

The speed at which they were finalizing the casting decision was
unprecedented. In Hollywood, it usually takes a long time to cast an
actor: pre-verification, several meetings, auditions, screen tests,
more meetings, and then finally, contracts. The process could take
anywhere from a few weeks to a month or more.

If they went forward with their choice at this pace, it would be a new
record.
Then…

"Hmm—"

The lead producer, a stern-looking woman who had her arms

crossed and had been staring at the screen, finally spoke.

"The audition footage felt more like a one-man show… as if we were

watching *Joker* himself come to life."

A few days later, on January 30th, at Woo-jin’s residence in LA…

Woo-jin, who was staying in LA for his work schedule, woke up in his
second-floor bedroom.

“Argh!”

He stretched as he woke up. He still wasn’t entirely used to the

large LA house, but he had slept well. With his hair tousled from
sleep, he yawned and spread his arms out over the bed, as if
stretching wings.

**Thud.**

Something hit his left hand. It was his phone. Yawning again, he
turned it on. The time read just past 9 a.m. A perk of being in LA
was that he hadn’t had to get up at dawn once.

Just then…

**Buzz, buzz.**

His phone screen changed; it was a call. The caller ID read “Director
Ahn Ga-bok.” What could this be about? Given that it was right after
the *Pierrot* audition, Woo-jin was fairly certain he knew what it was
regarding. Clearing his throat, Woo-jin deepened his voice and put
the phone to his ear.

“Yes, Director. Good morning.”

Director Ahn’s aged voice came through, sounding slightly excited.

“Sorry to call you so early, but I thought I should tell you right
away.”

“It’s no problem, sir. Please, go ahead.”

Director Ahn’s voice over the line was resolute as he made the
announcement:

“*Joker* in *Pierrot*… is yours.”

Chapter 396: Full Bloom (2)

Translator: Santos

“The Joker in *Pierrot* is mine?” With the phone pressed to his ear,
Kang Woo-jin felt momentarily puzzled by the words.

Then, it dawned on him.

“Oh.”

He grasped the meaning behind Director Ahn Ga-bok’s statement.

The “Joker” in *Pierrot* meant the role of Henry Gordon was his.

In other words:

“Mine? So, I got the part of Henry Gordon?”

This meant he had passed the final audition and screen test.
Otherwise, Director Ahn wouldn’t be calling so early in the morning
to share this news. Unless it was a joke—but Ahn Ga-bok was not
the type to joke about such things.

In that moment, Woo-jin’s thoughts raced.

“Holy shit! I did it!!”

He silently cheered, raising one hand in the air. Ideally, he would’ve

raised both hands in celebration, but one was still holding the
phone. Regardless, he began a silent victory dance, bouncing
without a sound. The excitement of claiming the “Joker” role had
him nearly bursting with joy.

At that moment:

“Hmm?”

Perhaps because he hadn’t responded, Director Ahn spoke again

through the phone.

“I said, the role of the Joker in *Pierrot* is yours. Did you hear me?”

Barely containing his excitement, Woo-jin forced himself to stay

composed. He wanted to yell, but it was time to play it cool. A wide
grin spread across his face as he lowered his voice as much as
possible.

“Yes, Director. I heard you.”

“…Do you understand what that means?”

Of course, Grandpa. Woo-jin’s smile grew even wider.

“It means I passed the final audition for Henry Gordon in *Pierrot*,
doesn’t it?”

“Exactly. It’s yours. Frankly, no one else could have done it. You
brought Henry Gordon to life in the audition.”

“…”

“But aren’t you happy? You’re so calm, it’s throwing me off.”

“I am happy.”

“For someone saying they’re happy, you’re awfully quiet. I know

your personality, but I thought this time you’d be a bit louder.”

Woo-jin upped the act.

“I was expecting it. Although, I must say, the call came sooner than I
thought.”
“Haha, you were expecting it? Well, I suppose that makes sense.
Your Henry Gordon left an unforgettable impression on everyone
here.”

Director Ahn’s voice was tinged with a soft laugh as he continued.

“They say it’s a first.”

“A first?”

“Casting a lead role, with so many top Hollywood actors as

contenders, decided in just a few days. ‘It’s never happened before,’
said the executives at Columbia Studio.”

It was fast, indeed. Woo-jin had expected it would take at least two
weeks. But fast or slow, what mattered was that he secured the role.
Woo-jin responded with a casual laugh.

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

Ahn Ga-bok’s voice shifted to a more serious tone.

“Today, Columbia Studio will contact your representative, President

Choi. But I wanted to tell you first.”

“Thank you, Director.”

“And another thing.”

There was a brief pause as Director Ahn exhaled softly and lowered
his voice.

“The news of you being cast as the lead in *Pierrot* will shock not
just Korea, but the world. But that’s not all. Something even bigger
is coming. I can’t say more now, but you’ll find out soon.”

This had to be about Columbia Studio’s high-stakes “Cinematic

Universe” project. Woo-jin, unaware of this, tilted his head slightly
but nodded anyway.
“Understood.”

“It’s set now. You and I—a Korean director and actor—are going to
make a real impact in Hollywood. I’m looking forward to everything
from shooting *Pierrot* to what comes after.”

Director Ahn concluded with an excited tone.

“See you soon, on set.”

“Yes, Director.”

The call ended, and Woo-jin tossed his phone onto the bed.

“Damn, this is insane!”

He broke into another celebratory dance, shoulders and hips

swaying with excitement. A broad smile lit up his face. This victory
felt even more exhilarating than any before, likely because it
marked a new milestone—Hollywood.

Just as Woo-jin was getting lost in the moment, a knock sounded at

the door.

“Knock, knock.”

Startled, Woo-jin quickly composed himself. When he opened the

door, Choi Sung-gon stood there in casual clothes, waving.

“Were you sleeping?”

“No.”

Choi entered the room, waving his phone.

“I sent you some amazing news, but you didn’t respond, so I came
to check.”

A message? Oh—right. Woo-jin hadn’t looked at any notifications

yet, preoccupied with Director Ahn’s call. He picked up his phone
from the bed and opened Choi’s message first.
-[President]: Check this when you wake up. Love ya.

-[President]: (Link)

Choi motioned for him to open the link. Woo-jin tapped the link, and
a list of movie titles with impressive numbers appeared.

[Korean All-Time Box Office]

[Overall Movie Rankings]

-1. *The Leech* / Total viewers: 20,483,558

-2. *The Missing Island* / Total viewers: 20,321,451

-3. *The Strange Sacrifice of a Stranger* / Total viewers: 16,833,712

-4. *Naval Battle* / Total viewers: 16,715,955

-5. *Irresistible Force* / Total viewers: 15,557,118

Woo-jin almost spread his arms again in celebration. It was an

exhilarating sight: he held the top three spots in Korea’s all-time box
office rankings. Choi, noticing Woo-jin’s reaction, gripped his
shoulder firmly.

“Amazing, right? I danced for minutes when I saw it.”

“…Yes, it’s thrilling.”

“Haha, it’s okay to show more excitement. What actor could pull this
off? Korea is already going wild—you’ve taken the top three spots.
Japan is just as amazed.”

“How did *The Leech* do in Japan?”

“Oh, it set records there too. Over 17 million viewers. The first
Korean film to achieve that.”
How many records were being broken today? Woo-jin struggled to
contain his excitement. Choi, on the other hand, felt no need to hold
back.

“Achievements like these will be remembered in history.”

“President.”

Woo-jin cut in at this point.

“I got a call from Director Ahn Ga-bok earlier. I’ve been confirmed
for the role of Henry Gordon in *Pierrot*.”

Choi Sung-gon’s expression changed from casual to serious in an

instant as he processed the news.

“What did you just say? Repeat that.”

“I’ve been confirmed for the role of Henry Gordon in *Pierrot*.”

“…”

Choi stared at Woo-jin, eyes wide and unblinking. He blinked a few

times as if trying to comprehend.

“You—you got it?”

“Yes.”

“And Director Ahn Ga-bok called to tell you this?”

“Yes.”

“So, you’re playing Henry Gordon in *Pierrot*, officially making your

Hollywood debut? Is that right?”

“That’s correct.”

It took exactly five seconds for Choi Sung-gon to process this. Then
he erupted into a yell.

“Whoa! No way!! This is insane!!!”

He staggered backward, shouting in sheer disbelief. It took him over
ten minutes to calm down, and even then, his face was still flushed
with excitement.

“You did it—really, you did it, Woo-jin. I’m honestly so proud I could
cry.”

But they couldn’t share the news just yet.

“If Director Ahn Ga-bok called you directly, it’s best to keep this
under wraps for now, right?”

“Probably. Columbia Studio will contact you soon.”

Two hours later, Columbia Studio reached out to Choi Sung-gon. The
conversation was long, but to sum it up, the studio confirmed that
Kang Woo-jin was cast as Henry Gordon in *Pierrot*, and they would
schedule the first meeting as soon as possible—likely the first week
of February. They also requested confidentiality until the official
announcement.

This initial meeting was intended as a negotiation for the formal

contract signing.

There was much to decide from this point forward. The most
pressing matter was Woo-jin’s pay, as well as his upcoming schedule
and key details to iron out. Woo-jin himself didn’t need to handle
these matters directly.

“Leave this to me. You’ve done your part perfectly. Now it’s my
turn.”

From here, Choi Sung-gon would manage everything.

The next day, with *Pierrot* now included in his projects, Woo-jin’s
stay in LA was extended. During this time, he received word from
one of the other major film studios—the legendary *World Disney
Pictures*. Although a date for the screen test hadn’t been set, they
sent materials for Woo-jin to prepare.

It included soundtracks and piano scores related to the role of the

Beast.
Unlike *Pierrot*, which focused on pure acting, *Beauty and the
Beast* required acting, singing, and piano skills. Woo-jin had to
practice a designated scene from the *Beauty and the Beast* script
for the audition.

Meanwhile, back in Korea, the media was buzzing with various

topics, most of them revolving around Kang Woo-jin.

**“Kang Woo-jin does it again! Claims the top three spots in Korea’s
all-time box office rankings!”**

**“[IssueTalk] ‘Stranger’s Sacrifice’ reaches No. 3 in Korea’s box

office, while ‘The Leech’ surpasses 17 million viewers in Japan!”**

Despite being in LA, it was as if Woo-jin’s presence was still felt in

Korea. The anticipation for the official launch of *Beneficial Evil* was
particularly high.

**“Final countdown to the global release of *Beneficial Evil*; third

trailer sparks a flurry of online comments from international fans”**

January ended, and February 1st arrived. On this day, the press
conference for *Beneficial Evil* was held. Though Woo-jin was
absent, it was a significant event. Hundreds of reporters bombarded
the panel with questions about Woo-jin, Miley Cara, the movie’s plot,
expectations for its success, and when part two would begin filming.

As expected, discussions about Woo-jin and Miley Cara dominated

the event.

**“Director Song Man-woo reveals at the *Beneficial Evil* press

conference: ‘Audiences will see a new side of Kang Woo-jin, and
Miley Cara’s role is substantial’”**

The excitement for *Beneficial Evil* was spreading beyond Korea to

international audiences. Although Miley Cara played a significant
role in this, Woo-jin’s presence, fueled by his success from Cannes
to *Pierrot* and now *Beauty and the Beast*, had captivated the
world’s attention. International audiences were especially curious
about him.
In Korea and Japan, expectations for *Beneficial Evil* were through
the roof.

**“Kang Woo-jin’s global breakthrough! International community

reacts!!” | IssueTalkerTV**

But reactions overseas were mixed, with some expressing

skepticism about how good the movie really was.

**“Reactions from overseas audiences to the trailer for *Beneficial

Evil*: ‘It looks like an action movie; we’ll wait and see’”**

Regardless of the mixed reactions, the *Beneficial Evil* team,

including director Song Man-woo and executive director Kim So-
hyang, went all out with their marketing efforts, both domestically
and internationally.

The official launch was just around the corner.

**“Only two days left until the highly anticipated global release of
*Beneficial Evil*! Premiering on February 3rd at noon KST!”**

**“On February 3rd at noon, *Beneficial Evil* will premiere on Netflix

in 80 countries worldwide”**

And now, only two days remained.

On February 3rd in LA, it was already past 7 p.m., while in Korea, the
clock was approaching noon. In a quieter residential area outside
the bustling city, one house was alive with energy.

This was Kang Woo-jin’s two-story house in LA.

The ground floor, sparsely furnished, felt vast and open.

Over 20 people gathered around the large TV in the living room,

including Choi Sung-gon with his hair tied back, the styling team,
other team members, and staff from BW Entertainment’s
international branch. They sat or stood with beers, pizza, and
chicken in hand, eyes glued to the TV.

Excitement was at its peak.

Everyone was chattering non-stop.

Among them, seated casually on the couch opposite Choi Sung-gon,

was a man watching the TV in silence.

It was Kang Woo-jin.

“Damn, why am I so nervous?”

At that moment:

“It’s live!!”

A staff member shouted and fiddled with the remote. The Netflix
interface appeared on the TV screen. A few more clicks, and the
newly released poster of a familiar movie popped up.

-♬♪

The iconic Netflix logo appeared on screen, accompanied by the

familiar sound effect that echoed through the room.

Then, against a black background, the title appeared:

-*Beneficial Evil* Part 1

-Episode 1

The EX-level project *Beneficial Evil* had officially been launched

worldwide.

Chapter 397: Full Bloom (3)

Translator: Santos

The official launch of *Beneficial Evil* was set for noon on February
3rd. However, from the morning of the 3rd, only a few hours before
the launch, the buzz around *Beneficial Evil* was already deafening
across Korea.
The excitement spread beyond just the media; public opinion was
ablaze as well.

On social media platforms, forums, YouTube, and more, discussions

about *Beneficial Evil* were reaching fever pitch.

**“Finally!! *Beneficial Evil* is launching!!!”**

**“Ugh... time is moving so slowly... I can’t wait to watch it...”**

**“LOL, but isn’t it true that when a project is this hyped before
release, it usually flops? LOL”**

**“↑True, LOL. The trailer was everything, and if the movie is boring,
*Beneficial Evil* is doomed, LOL.”**

**“Here come the haters again.”**

**“*Beneficial Evil* is going crazy overseas, so if it really sucks, it’s

not just going to flop; it’ll be a disaster.”**

**“If you take away Kang Woo-jin and Miley Cara, there might be
nothing left to see.”**

**“But the trailers looked amazing, though.”**

Positive and negative opinions clashed like swords and shields.

Offline discussions in broadcasting stations, movie studios, and
production companies mirrored this tension.

“Ah, so *Beneficial Evil* is launching soon.”

“What do you think? I feel like it’ll be hot for a few days thanks to
Kang Woo-jin and Miley Cara, but I’m not sure it’ll be a huge hit.”

“Hmm, I feel the same. But it should do well enough in Korea. Miley
Cara is in it, but Kang Woo-jin’s influence is just too strong. And the
trailer seemed pretty high-quality.”

“But won’t the interest in Korea die down quickly? Woo-jin’s

influence has raised public expectations sky-high.”
“True. If it’s not up to par, the backlash will come fast.”

People were making snap judgments about *Beneficial Evil*’s future.

“Wow, the trailer for *Beneficial Evil* was put together really well.”

“Hey, PD Kim. Slacking off again?”

“This is work too, isn’t it? If *Beneficial Evil* blows up, we’ll have to
reach out to the actors.”

“Haha, really? But in my opinion, it’s still too soon for a global
challenge like this. Even with the Korean Wave and K-pop, it’s just a
drop in the bucket overall. And even if Kang Woo-jin’s reputation
abroad has grown, it’s still not enough.”

“What if it ends up being a huge hit?”

“I think the trailers might be the only good part.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Deal.”

Japan, launching at the same time as Korea, was experiencing a

similar atmosphere. The interesting thing was that *Beneficial Evil*
was making waves not just in Korea and Japan but globally. In the
U.S. and other major countries, popular forums were buzzing as the
launch time drew near.

**“Waiting to watch this Korean piece, *Beneficial Evil*. Hope it’s

good.”**

**“Why is that Korean project so noisy lately?”**

**“It’s because of the Korean actor Kang Woo-jin, who’s hot in

Hollywood. The hype spiked even more when he was rumored for
the Beast role.”**

**“Kang Woo-jin won Best Actor at Cannes last year.”**

**“How good must he be to get cast in both *Pierrot* and *Beauty
and the Beast*?”**

**“We’ll get a hint by watching *Beneficial Evil*, but this looks like
an action film, right? The trailer was decent.”**

**“Trailers can always be made to look good. Let’s be real, no

Korean project could match Hollywood standards.”**

**“I subscribed to Netflix just for *Beneficial Evil*. I hope it’s at least
decent.”**

The commentary poured in.

The momentum kept building, with most comments echoing a

skeptical “Let’s see how good it really is” sentiment. Despite the
skepticism, the global interest was undeniable.

**“But for a Korean project, the global promotion has already

succeeded. When has a Korean release ever been this talked about
before launch?”**

**“True. I never paid attention to Korean projects before *Beneficial

Evil*.”**

It was unprecedented.

Whether good or bad, the international recognition was thanks to

Kang Woo-jin’s accumulated global presence. Miley Cara and
Netflix’s promotional prowess were added bonuses.

As people across the world dissected and anticipated *Beneficial

Evil*, an hour before launch, various figures in LA were also taking
notice. Many big names in Hollywood were watching.

It was 11 a.m. in Korea and 6 p.m. in Hollywood. Columbia Studio,

which had secretly cast Woo-jin as the male lead in *Pierrot*, was
abuzz.

“We should definitely check out *Beneficial Evil*.”

“Agreed. Call Director Ahn Ga-bok from the stage crew. It may be
starting in Korea, but since this marks Kang Woo-jin’s first major
international step, anyone available should watch it.”

“Isn’t it an action genre?”

“Action by Kang Woo-jin—that sounds promising.”

“If his action scenes hold up, it could really bolster his standing as
the ‘Joker’ in the Cinematic Universe. If not, it’s another story.”

At *World Disney Pictures*, preparing for Woo-jin’s audition and

screen test for the Beast role:

“What time does *Beneficial Evil* launch on Netflix?”

“Around 7 p.m. our time. Quite a few people are already gathering
at the studio.”

“Hmm, let’s head there too. *Beneficial Evil* could be a good gauge
for evaluating Kang Woo-jin.”

“This is his first action film, right?”

“As far as our research shows. And it’s also his first formal bid to
break into international markets.”

“Fortunately, it’s on Netflix, so we can check it out right away.”

“What do you expect from Kang Woo-jin’s action scenes?”

“Not sure. I’m intrigued, but he’s not an action specialist, so there
might be some rough edges.”

“True, but if he’s already a standout actor and excels at action too—
he’s beyond exceptional.”

Hollywood heavyweights, including *Universal Movies* and

renowned producers like Joseph Felton and Megan Stone, were
among those preparing to watch.

“The things we saw in person are finally being shown to the world.”
“It looked impressive live, but let’s see how the final product turned
out.”

“It all depends on the direction and editing. Still, Kang Woo-jin’s
action and close-quarters combat (CQC) will definitely surprise
audiences.”

Miley Cara, who had starred in *Beneficial Evil*, was also following
along via Netflix during her schedule.

“Miley, how do you feel?”

“Hmm—it was my first time working on a Korean project, and now

it’s going out to the world. It feels fresh. There’s a part of me that
wants to say, ‘Show them what you’ve got!’”

“Kang Woo-jin?”

“Yeah. There were so many wild rumors about him online. Just
watching made me mad.”

“If *Beneficial Evil* turns out well, those will vanish.”

“I hope it makes a huge splash.”

Prominent Hollywood directors like Danny Landis, actors who had

auditioned for *Pierrot*, Chris Hartnett, and others who had
encountered Woo-jin at Cannes were all waiting as well.

They were waiting for *Beneficial Evil* to launch.

Finally.

At noon KST, *Beneficial Evil* launched on Netflix, and the famous

Netflix logo sound resonated worldwide.

-♬♪

Countless viewers around the world hit play on *Beneficial Evil* Part
1.

-*Beneficial Evil* Part 1

-Episode 1

The opening scene showed Kang Woo-jin, or rather, his character

Jang Yeon-woo, appearing in a parking lot. As soon as Woo-jin’s
character slapped a petty villain, online communities in various
countries started buzzing.

**“What is this? Is this the action they’re showing off?”**

**“Did I just waste my time?”**

**“If this is it, there’s no reason to keep watching.”**

**“But Kang Woo-jin’s diction isn’t bad.”**

**“Actors who can do this are a dime a dozen.”**

**“This feels like trash already.”**

Criticism far outweighed praise—almost to the point of being an

insult fest. It was an expected reaction.

Many in Hollywood had similar initial reactions.

“Hmm? This is action?”

“It’s... a bit underwhelming.”

“Can this even be called action?”

But those opinions didn’t last long. On screen, the scene shifted to
Jang Yeon-woo’s past. Suddenly, Woo-jin was shown in a dimly lit
forest or mountain at night, where distant animal cries could be
heard.

His outfit had completely changed.

Military boots, a uniform, a bulletproof vest, an earpiece radio, and a

handgun at his side.

And an M4 Carbine slung over his shoulder.

From this point, reactions began to shift.

**“Wait, what? What’s going on?”**

**“This feels like a complete genre change.”**

**“An M4 Carbine? Is there going to be a shootout?”**

**“No way. They didn’t seem to spend that much money on this.”**

**“Whoa, I’m starting to get really excited!”**

Miley Cara’s voice was heard for the first time.

**[“Proceed.”]**

Woo-jin’s character smoothly infiltrated a mansion

. Cara’s voice rang out again.

**[“The interior is just as briefed. J, it’s up to you.”]**

*Beneficial Evil* was suddenly:

**[“Grenade! Grenade!!”]**

A match for Hollywood action films in terms of quality.

**[Boom!!]**

Explosions and gunfire erupted. The scenes were neither cheesy nor
weak. They were stylish and visually striking.

**[Ratatatat!]

**[Bang bang bang!]**

The astonishing part was Kang Woo-jin’s action performance. His

action sequences left audiences around the world with their jaws
dropped.

**“Wow, Kang Woo-jin is good!”**

**“This is awesome! Way beyond expectations!! And the action
scenes are so clean! What is this? A Korean project?”**

**“The quality of the production is impressive, but Kang Woo-jin’s

action skills are something else, aren’t they?”**

**“It’s not just decent; it’s amazing! He’d stand out even in a
Hollywood film.”**

**“It’s just starting, so we’ll need to see more, but honestly,

achieving this level takes serious skill.”**

And this was just the beginning.

**[“Where’s J?”]**

Episode 2 began with the introduction of Miley Cara’s mysterious

character, “L,” while J (Woo-jin) disappeared and reappeared. Both
past and present timelines intertwined, and the overall quality of
*Beneficial Evil* kept climbing.

Then, toward the end of Episode 2:

**[“Move quickly.”]**

Woo-jin, now wearing a torn black T-shirt and jeans, stood in a

rundown building. Specifically, he was in a room with six armed
thugs wielding AK-47s, pistols, and long knives.

Then:

**[“That guy!!”]**

**[“Watch out!!!”]**

The scene hit its climax.

**[Bang! Bang!]**

Blood splattered as one of the thugs’ heads burst open, marking the
start of an over-10-minute continuous take featuring Woo-jin’s
intense CQC (close-quarters combat), meticulously crafted by
director Song Man-woo.

It was impossible not to notice.

The camera work and directing had no visible edits. The only things
on display were Woo-jin’s fluid action and CQC, continuing
uninterrupted for over 10 minutes. The final line was:

**[“I need a car.”]**

Of course, the camera zoomed in on Woo-jin, now blood-soaked.

From this point on, the global audience’s reaction was clear:

**“A continuous take? Is that really what it is?”**

**“Yes! It’s incredibly long! Wow, the continuous take is amazing!”**

**“Kang Woo-jin’s movements are pure CQC?? And so elegant!!!”**

**“Wow, this is impressive. It’s on par with Hollywood.”**

**“The continuous action scene is phenomenal, and Kang Woo-jin’s

CQC is flawless.”**

**“Kang Woo-jin’s acting is great, and the action is so stylish!”**

Criticism was nowhere to be found. Only praise filled the air.

The next day, February 4th. Korea.

It was past 10 a.m., and Netflix Korea was buzzing with activity. The
largest meeting room was packed. General Director Kim So-hyang
and all the team leaders were present, talking non-stop. Each had a
laptop in front of them. Kim So-hyang was on a call, speaking in
English.

It was no wonder.
*Beneficial Evil* had launched in over 80 countries on the 3rd, and
now, on the 4th, they had to monitor reactions and ratings from
around the world.

After about 30 minutes:

“D-Director Kim!!”

One team leader called out, showing their laptop to Kim So-hyang.
She glanced at the screen, and her eyes widened.

“Is this for real?!”

It was a look of joy mixed with shock.

Meanwhile, in LA.

It was afternoon in LA, unlike the morning in Korea. Kang Woo-jin

was in a moving van.

“…”

Wearing a blazer and single-breasted coat, his expression was

serious, but inside, he thought:

“*Beneficial Evil* was a hit yesterday. Even I found it incredibly fun,

and it’s my own project. But—when do we get the results? I’m kind
of anxious.”

He was more nervous than he let on. The global release of

*Beneficial Evil* had him on edge. He’d received plenty of messages
the day before, from Miley Cara to countless colleagues. Maybe
that’s why he was even more anxious now. Regardless, he was on
his way to an interview with a major Hollywood media outlet. When
the van reached the towering building, he stepped out.

Thud!

As he walked confidently toward the entrance, someone called out

to him excitedly from behind.

“Woo-jin!”
Turning around, he saw Choi Sung-gon running up, holding his
phone. He showed Woo-jin the screen without a word. Displayed was
an international news article.

**“CNM: Korean drama *Beneficial Evil* takes America by storm!

Hits #1 on U.S. Netflix upon launch!”**

Out of 80 countries, *Beneficial Evil* had debuted at #1 in the U.S.

Chapter 398: Full Bloom (4)

Translator: Santos

*Beneficial Evil* hit number one on Netflix in the U.S.? As Kang Woo-
jin stared at the foreign news article displayed on Choi Sung-gon's
phone, he remained silent, his outward composure carefully
maintained. Inside, though, he felt a deep sense of confusion.

‘Number one, huh? That’s good, but... just how impressive is this,
really?’

It was an entirely new experience for him, making it hard to fully

grasp the weight of it. Choi Sung-gon, unable to contain his
excitement, spoke with enthusiasm.

“This is huge! *Beneficial Evil* is the first Korean project to top

Netflix’s U.S. chart as an original series!”

First? That sounded pretty incredible. This time, Woo-jin felt like
shouting for joy, albeit only internally. If Choi Sung-gon hadn’t been
present, he might have been jumping around in excitement. Instead,
he worked to suppress the rush of emotion.

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“Haha! Based on what I read, only the U.S. rankings have been
officially announced so far. But still, the U.S. is the main one out of
the 80 countries. This is an insane starting point! The influence and
word-of-mouth in the U.S. are absolutely massive!”

“Have the other country rankings been released yet?”

“Not yet, but they’ll come soon. But since we’ve topped the U.S.
chart, we can definitely have high expectations for the others too!”

Choi Sung-gon’s briefing continued with gusto, his grin unyielding.

Woo-jin responded in a low tone, maintaining his composed front.

“Reaching number one is significant, but it’s too soon to jump to

conclusions.”

“You’re right.”

Lowering his phone, Choi nodded in agreement.

“We might be number one today, but we could drop tomorrow. And
unlike box office numbers, these rankings are fluid and can change
rapidly. For *Beneficial Evil*’s number one spot on U.S. Netflix to be
groundbreaking, it needs to stay at the top and generate consistent
word-of-mouth. But still…”

Choi paused and raised his phone again, his smile growing wider.

“Even if we hold that spot for just one day, it’s already phenomenal.
This is the first time a Korean project has reached number one in the
U.S. on Netflix. We’ve knocked out those long-standing top shows
that dominate the upper ranks. We shattered that concrete barrier—
and with a Korean drama, no less!”

As Choi explained, breaking into the top spots on any country’s

Netflix chart was difficult, but the U.S. market was especially tough.
The sheer number of outstanding, often monumental series made it
nearly impossible. Sure, another American hit could manage it, but a
Korean drama breaking through the U.S. Netflix chart was almost
unheard of due to its limited recognition and interest.

Yet *Beneficial Evil* had done the impossible. Even if it lasted for
just one day, it had already made history, elevating the prestige of
Korean dramas and enhancing their image in the U.S. It was a
significant step, even if brief. But if this momentum lasted for days
or even weeks, it was clear that the entire world would be turned
upside down.

This level of sustained success was incredibly difficult to achieve.

Even so, Choi Sung-gon couldn’t help but picture a bright future for
*Beneficial Evil*.

“If we can hold this momentum for just a week... whoa, it’ll be a
complete game changer. Your recognition abroad, Woo-jin, will
skyrocket even more.”

Suddenly, he clapped his hands together.

“Oh! That’s right! Woo-jin, your Instagram and ‘Kang Woo-jin

Persona’ channel are probably blowing up already!”

Even though he hadn’t checked, it was obvious. Meanwhile, Woo-jin

kept his composed expression but allowed his mind to wander
briefly.

‘*Beneficial Evil*’s level is EX…’

Given the results of previous SSS-level projects like *Strange

Sacrifice* and *The Leech*, it was clear that an EX-level project like
*Beneficial Evil* was poised to drop a series of bombs on the global
stage.

Woo-jin managed to suppress the smile threatening to appear on his

lips.

‘Phew—close call.’

At that moment, Choi Sung-gon, who had been metaphorically

dancing with joy, spoke up again.

“Anyway, while being number one in the U.S. is incredible, the

rankings in other countries matter too. The combined global ranking
will be even more significant.”

Just then, Choi’s phone rang. It was Kim So-hyang, the general
director back in Korea.

“Yes, this is Choi!”

While Choi dove into the call, Woo-jin’s phone also buzzed with a
long vibration. Another call. This time, it was Miley Cara. Woo-jin
pressed the phone to his ear.

“Hello.”

Miley’s voice, tinged with laughter, came through the line.

“I’m watching *Beneficial Evil* right now, and it looks amazing. I’m
even impressed with my scenes.”

“Is that so?”

“Did you hear the news? Congratulations on topping the U.S. Netflix
chart.”

“Congratulations to you too.”

“Right, I should be congratulated too, shouldn’t I? I’ve been getting

so many messages. And this isn’t just for show.”

Miley added, sincerely:

“A lot of my colleagues are raving about how good *Beneficial Evil*

is.”

By “colleagues,” she undoubtedly meant top-tier Hollywood actors.

Meanwhile.

By noon on February 4th, a day after the official launch of

*Beneficial Evil*, Korea was saturated with its presence.

It was an explosive phenomenon.

**“[Hot Topic] Kang Woo-jin’s *Beneficial Evil* finally revealed, tops

Korea’s Netflix chart immediately after release!”**

**“Social media and various online communities are on fire with

*Beneficial Evil*... ‘It’s insanely good!’ dominate reactions.”**
**“‘Holds its own against Hollywood productions,’ critics shower
praise on *Beneficial Evil*.”**

Countless articles were circulating, but most of them focused on

international news.

**“*Beneficial Evil* makes waves! First Korean drama to top the U.S.
Netflix chart.”**

**“How good is *Beneficial Evil*? Tops charts in the U.S. as well as

Korea!”**

**“Kang Woo-jin’s action resonates globally, marking *Beneficial

Evil* as the first Korean show to hit number one in the U.S.”**

Number one in Korea, number one in the U.S. That made two top
spots already. But *Beneficial Evil* was streaming in 80 countries,
which meant there were still plenty of rankings to come.

Soon, new updates arrived.

**“*Beneficial Evil* also claims the top spot on Netflix in Japan after
Korea and the U.S.”**

**“Japan gives a thumbs-up to *Beneficial Evil*, following in the

footsteps of *Strange Sacrifice* and *The Leech*.”**

Japan joined the list of countries where the show had reached
number one. By this point, public opinion in Korea—and to be
honest, from the moment *Beneficial Evil* launched—was already in
a frenzy.

**“LOL, *Beneficial Evil* is amazing!”**

**“To be honest... I didn’t expect much, but *Beneficial Evil* turned

out incredible.”**

**“I thought it was boring.”**

**“Agreed, LOL. Kang Woo-jin’s action scenes were mind-

blowing!”**
**“Fact: Kang Woo-jin’s action in *Beneficial Evil* includes a
significant amount of CQC, which is considered highly challenging
even in Hollywood.”**

**“Oh my god; Kang Woo-jin is so cool…”**

**“I almost lost it during the long-take scene.”**

**“The chemistry between Kang Woo-jin and Miley Cara is off the
charts, LOL. She had more screen time than I expected, so I’ll have
to watch it again!”**

**“The long take plus Kang Woo-jin’s action gave me chills.”**

**“It was decent, don’t exaggerate. It’ll probably drop from number
one in the U.S. by tomorrow.”**

**“The quality of *Beneficial Evil* is insane... I’m watching it right

now, and it feels just like a Hollywood movie...”**

**“Action, directing, acting—there’s nothing that falls short. This is a

masterpiece.”**

**“Whoa... is it true that *Beneficial Evil* topped Netflix in the U.S.?

This is wild, LOL.”**

**“Watch *Beneficial Evil* ten times; it’s a visual feast.”**

Social media, blogs, forums, YouTube—no matter where you looked

online, all anyone could talk about was *Beneficial Evil*. The buzz
was more than just a surge; it was an inferno. What was especially
interesting:

**“Global hit potential? *Beneficial Evil* gains traction with overseas

netizens as well.”**

The frenzied reactions were spreading beyond Korea, with

international communities also lighting up with praise.

The momentum was strong.

Word-of-mouth was spreading like a storm, and as a result,
everyone involved with *Beneficial Evil*—from Netflix Korea to
Director Song Man-woo and writer Choi Na-na—was swamped with
work.

Meanwhile, the show’s influence continued to grow.

**“Top stars are sharing their *Beneficial Evil* viewing moments on

social media.”**

**“[Trending] The powerful wave of the *Beneficial Evil* syndrome

hits Korea and the world!”**

And this was just one day after its release. It was only the beginning.

By the morning of the 5th

**“OMG! *Beneficial Evil* is number one in Hong Kong too!!”**

And by the 6th, new first-place announcements kept coming.

**“*Beneficial Evil* tops Netflix charts in Mexico, France, Saudi

Arabia, and Hong Kong! Holds the second spot in the U.K. and
Switzerland.”**

*Beneficial Evil* was creating something massive.

**“[Feature] The shockwave of *Beneficial Evil*, on its third day,

maintains top spots in multiple countries including Korea and the
U.S.”**

It was becoming an unstoppable global sensation.

Meanwhile, in LA.

In the heart of LA’s bustling downtown stood the massive Columbia

Studio. Inside one of its medium-sized meeting rooms, Kang Woo-jin
sat.

“…”
He sat at the center of a rectangular table, gazing out the window.
His expression was serious, and his attire—a blazer—was formal. But
inside, he was as excited as ever.

‘Whoa—how many countries did *Beneficial Evil* hit number one in?
Was it 20?’

Even in LA, Woo-jin was staying updated on the worldwide storm

that *Beneficial Evil* was creating. With each passing day, he was
more amazed, yet he knew this was only the beginning.

Still, he needed to stay composed.

‘Nope, don’t smile, mouth.’

The excitement he held in was visible on the faces of Choi Sung-gon

and the BW Entertainment staff around him. They had been
monitoring the show’s progress since morning and were now
chatting excitedly about all the related news. Smiles were plastered
on their faces.

The creation of new records and legends every day made it

inevitable.

At that moment—

The glass door opened, and a group of foreign executives entered

the meeting room. Their faces were familiar. Among them were the
lead producer of *Pierrot* and top Columbia Studio officials. At the
end of the line was Director Ahn Ga-bok, with his lined face.

These were the key figures behind the film *Pierrot*.

Soon, the room was filled with more than a dozen people facing
each other. Woo-jin’s team had five members, and the opposing
side had seven. The reason for this gathering was straightforward.

The first official meeting following the audition.

Simply put—

‘Phew—it’s a little nerve-wracking.’

Woo-jin sat at his first Hollywood negotiation table, not as a
candidate but as the confirmed lead for the role of Henry Gordon in
*Pierrot*. A slight tension coursed through him. While he had been
in numerous meetings, this was his first experience in Hollywood, so
a touch of nerves was natural.

The meeting began with simple pleasantries.

Questions about how everyone had been, thoughts on the recent

audition, and, of course, the current sensation of *Beneficial Evil* in
the U.S. Woo-jin even exchanged words in Korean with Director Ahn.

“*Beneficial Evil* is a massive hit. I enjoyed it too.”

“Thank you.”

“People here seem to be watching it as well. It’s creating quite a

stir. My instinct tells me *Beneficial Evil* won’t just fade away.”

“I think so too.”

“It looks like it’s set to make a big impact.”

About ten minutes passed this way.

Then—

“Mr. Kang Woo-jin.”

One of the foreign producers, a woman with striking features,

adopted a serious expression.

“Today, we’re going to finalize several things regarding your role as

Henry Gordon. But before we move forward, there are two important
points to discuss. Both are related to *Pierrot* and quite significant.
Although we want you for the role, you have the right to decline
after hearing them.”

Decline? That was laughable. Watching her set a heavy tone, Woo-
jin remained silent, deciding to listen first. The producer glanced at
Director Ahn and the studio executives before speaking again.
“First, the announcement of your casting as Henry Gordon was
originally planned to coincide with the casting of the other main
roles. That’s the standard approach. Most studios, including ours,
follow this process. We estimated it would happen in about a
month.”

“…”

“But we feel it’s necessary to change the timeline. The global

attention on *Beneficial Evil* is immense, from Hollywood and
beyond.”

The producer locked eyes with Woo-jin, her voice firm.

“The announcement will be made solely about you, and the event
won’t be small. It will be held much sooner—in just three days. Are
you okay with that? If it feels rushed or burdensome—”

“No.”

Woo-jin shook his head and answered in a calm, low voice in English.

“I’m fine with it happening right now.”

At that very moment—

Columbia Studio’s official social media page posted a new update.

**“Hello. This is Columbia Studio. We have exciting news about the

movie *Pierrot*, which is currently in production. Columbia Studio
has been working on a major project for several years, and we’ve
recently solidified its direction.”**

The post felt meticulous and carefully crafted. Understandable.

It was the first official unveiling of Columbia Studio’s long-secret

grand project.

**“*Pierrot* is set to be the opening film for this massive project.”**

It was the moment they first revealed their *Cinematic Universe*.

Chapter 399: Full Bloom (5)

Translator: Santos

[“Pierrot” will be the movie that heralds the grand project we have
been preparing for years. We have reviewed countless stories and
characters and have ultimately decided to embark on this journey. It
will undoubtedly be a challenging path, but we are determined to
give it our all. “Pierrot” will serve as the starting point of our
planned “Cinematic Universe.”]

Columbia Studio officially announcing their “Cinematic Universe.”

[This isn’t a project we are taking lightly. It will be a hero series, with
various interconnected movies forming a massive world, featuring a
wide array of characters and countless stories. We are putting high
hopes on this monumental endeavor and promise to bring you
thrilling films in the future.]

They also mentioned the new title change.

[Additionally, the title of “Pierrot” will be changed to “Pierrot: Birth

of a Villain.” This is because the protagonist, Henry Gordon, will be
the first villain of our “Cinematic Universe.” We will share more
details as soon as we can arrange a formal briefing. Thank you.]

This marked the end of Columbia Studio’s explanation of their

ambitious “Cinematic Universe” project. Though the post wasn’t
long, it included all the key points. Being one of Hollywood’s “Big
Five,” the studio’s announcement quickly attracted an avalanche of
comments, many in English, but also in various other languages.

- Whoa! A Cinematic Universe? Is this for real?

- I’m curious to see how vast this universe will be, but it sounds
pretty exciting! A hero series!
- I get what they’re aiming for... but who’s going to play the lead in
“Pierrot”?
- When will they announce the main actor for “Pierrot,” the movie
that will kick off this massive project? It’s probably going to be Chris
Hartnett anyway.
- This is getting interesting! I’m feeling both excited and worried.
Many studios have tried a Cinematic Universe but failed.
- Henry Gordon is the main character’s name? I watched *Virtuous
Evil*, and Kang Woo-jin wouldn’t be a bad pick.
- The competition among the candidates was tough, and it’s unlikely
they’d pick Kang Woo-jin as the lead in such a significant project.
- A Cinematic Universe! Columbia really made a bold move!

The international response continued to grow more intense.

Comments speculating about the lead in *Pierrot: Birth of a Villain*
and mentioning Kang Woo-jin began to appear frequently.

Most responses conveyed a mix of curiosity and anticipation.

Meanwhile, inside Columbia Studio’s mid-sized meeting room, An

Gabok and the rest of the *Pierrot: Birth of a Villain* production
team were all watching Kang Woo-jin.

“I have no problem with that.”

The production team found themselves once again taken aback by

Woo-jin’s fearless attitude. Even amidst global attention, he showed
no signs of hesitation. The head producer, slightly surprised, spoke
up.

“Understood. We’ll proceed with the announcement in three days

and will send you the finalized schedule.”

“Yes.”

In truth, Columbia Studio’s decision to push forward with the

announcement of the actor playing Henry Gordon stemmed from the
massive buzz generated by *Virtuous Evil*. Kang Woo-jin had
already been the focus of considerable international interest, and
the success of *Virtuous Evil* had amplified this many times over.

Columbia Studio wouldn’t miss the opportunity for such powerful

publicity.

In other words, they were capitalizing on Kang Woojin’s momentum.

Even a powerhouse like Columbia Studio knew it was a chance not
to be wasted. If timed right, both Kang Woojin and *Pierrot* would
enjoy unprecedented promotional benefits.
The head producer exchanged a few words with An Gabok before
changing the topic.

“Now, the second matter. The title of ‘Pierrot’ will be changed to

*Pierrot: Birth of a Villain*.”

“······”

Kang Woojin’s stoic expression showed little reaction, even

internally.

*“Pierrot: Birth of a Villain”? Not bad.*

He found the new title quite to his liking. Yet, the producer wasn’t
finished.

“Additionally, *Pierrot: Birth of a Villain* will be the prologue to our

expansive Cinematic Universe.”

*Cinematic Universe?* Kang Woo-jin’s mind was filled with

questions, though he kept his expression neutral. Beside him, Choi
Sung-gun’s eyes suddenly widened in shock.

*“Holy crap! A Cinematic Universe? Is this really happening?”*

He had a hunch where the conversation was headed, and the

producer’s continued briefing confirmed his suspicions.

“The ‘Cinematic Universe’ mentioned earlier is a massive project

that Columbia Studio has been preparing for several years······”

As she laid out the same information that the executives had once
shared with An Gabok, and as detailed in the studio’s recent official
post, Choi Sung-gun’s eyes grew even wider.

*“Is this for real? Kang Woo-jin as the first villain of Columbia
Studio’s make-or-break project? This is more than just big news!”*

Choi Sung-gun imagined that once this was announced, everyone

would have a similar reaction. With An Gabok as the director and
Kang Woo-jin as the lead actor in such a monumental movie—the
first villain in this new Cinematic Universe—this hinted at Kang
Woojin’s involvement in future series.

No matter how the universe would expand, what stories or

characters would be introduced, Kang Woo-jin was now part of that
mix.

Choi Sung-gun’s heart was pounding like crazy, and it was no

wonder.

*“In just three years, we’ve come this far—it’s surreal.”*

He cast a quick glance at Woo-jin, whose face remained indifferent.

“You will be involved not only in *Pierrot* but also in future movies
within the Cinematic Universe. Are you okay with this, Mr. Woo-jin?”

The producer reiterated the point. As she had said before, Woojin
had the right to refuse. But his response came quickly.

“I have no issues with that.”

He understood that this was a massive project with a lot in motion,

but that didn’t scare him. Besides, *Pierrot* was graded as EX+. He
wasn’t about to miss out on such a role out of fear. That was his
mindset.

*“This should be fun.”*

With his decision confirmed, the producer, An Gabok, and the

Columbia Studio executives all brightened visibly. They must have
been somewhat anxious.

Finally,

“Shall we proceed with the contract?”

The time had come for negotiations, agreements, and discussions.

Columbia Studio brought out the prepared contract, projected
schedule, and various related documents.

An hour later,
*“Whoa—seriously?!”*

Kang Woo-jin’s eyes almost popped out of his head—internally, of

course.

*“How much is this?!”*

The numbers being discussed far surpassed his imagination.

Meanwhile,

As Kang Woo-jin was deep in negotiations with Columbia Studio,

international media were already abuzz with excitement over
*Pierrot: Birth of a Villain* and the newly revealed Cinematic
Universe.

While Kang Woo-jin was in the midst of finalizing his negotiations

with Columbia Studio, the news surrounding *Pierrot: Birth of a
Villain* and the announcement of the Cinematic Universe was
sending shockwaves through the international media.

『CNM/ Columbia Studio Unveils Major Project Without Warning:

“Cinematic Universe Has Been in the Works for Years”』

『BBX/ *Pierrot*, the First Step in the Cinematic Universe, Renamed

to *Pierrot: Birth of a Villain*』

『LA TIME/ Columbia Studio's Hero Series, the Cinematic Universe:

*Pierrot: Birth of a Villain* as the Starting Point』

The unexpected revelation from Columbia Studio was creating a

buzz not just because it was sudden, but because the nature of the
announcement was tantalizing and bold.

『ABY/ The Cinematic Universe Has Often Been a Risky Venture in

Hollywood; Can Columbia Studio Succeed?』

『NT/ Spotlight on the Lead Villain of *Pierrot: Birth of a Villain*: Who

Will Play Henry Gordon?』

Hollywood itself was shaking with anticipation. Reporters and fans

alike were abuzz with questions and speculations, particularly
regarding who would play the pivotal role of Henry Gordon in
*Pierrot: Birth of a Villain*. Names of major actors like Chris Hartnett
and other top candidates were frequently brought up alongside that
of Kang Woo-jin.

This excitement quickly spilled over to South Korea.

『[International Topic] Kang Woo-jin’s Audition for *Pierrot*: The

Beginning of Columbia Studio’s Ambitious Cinematic Universe』

『Could Kang Woo-jin Become the First Villain of Columbia Studio’s

Cinematic Universe?』

『What Is Columbia Studio’s “Cinematic Universe”? Explaining the

Massive Scope and Hero Series They Announced』

The news that the film Kang Woo-jin had auditioned and tested for
was the starting point of such an enormous project didn’t go
unnoticed by Korean media. The buzz reached new heights.

The public reaction was also intense.

*“Wait, what?! If Kang Woo-jin gets this, he’ll not only break into
Hollywood but also be the first villain in a Cinematic Universe??”*

*“↑ No way he’ll make it, right? The competition with those
Hollywood actors was too fierce. He probably didn’t get it.”*

*“Still, it’s already amazing that he even auditioned for a project of

this scale.”*

*“Right? Competing with those top-tier Hollywood actors? Even so,

An Gabok as the director is legendary now.”*

*“It’s insane that a Korean director is helming such a massive

project… I’m filled with national pride.”*

The speculation and excitement over *Pierrot: Birth of a Villain*

refused to die down.

Three days later, in Los Angeles.

It was late morning. One of the many five-star hotels in the city,
located near the bustling downtown area, was unusually crowded.
Over a hundred international journalists had gathered in a large hall.

The seating arrangements consisted of long tables lined up with

journalists seated and prepared with cameras and laptops. In front
of them stood a raised platform with a long table that could seat
about ten people.

There was a noticeable buzz in the air.

“Cinematic Universe? There wasn’t even a hint about this before.”

“That shows just how secretive Columbia Studio has been.”

“According to insiders, Columbia Studio is betting everything on this

project.”

“They’d have to. A Cinematic Universe requires a massive budget.

The stakes are high, so they’ll go all in with *Pierrot: Birth of a
Villain*.”

“The beginning is always crucial. They’re sure to pour their focus

into this, especially with a Korean director. You can practically smell
the ambition.”

Familiar terms were being tossed around frequently, for good

reason. This was a press conference organized by Columbia Studio.
Though officially termed a press conference, it was essentially an
extended briefing on the recently unveiled Cinematic Universe
project—a move to sustain the buzz.

“So, who is playing the role of Henry Gordon, the protagonist of

*Pierrot: Birth of a Villain*? The actor must have been chosen
already. Will we find out today?”

“Columbia Studio said that this character will be the first major
villain in the Cinematic Universe. It must have been hard to choose
the right actor.”

Names of potential leads echoed among the crowd.

“Who do you think it’ll be? Tom Brando? Jack Gable?”

“They’re good, but Chris Hartnett is the top contender, I’d say.”

“What about Kang Woo-jin?”

“······Honestly, I think his chances are the lowest.”

Mentions of Kang Woo-jin were interspersed among the chatter.

“Even if Kang Woojin has made waves internationally with *Virtuous

Evil*, would Columbia Studio really entrust such an important
project to him? He’s the least experienced among them.”

“Just being in the running for this role is an achievement for him.”

“True. Still, I’m putting my bet on Chris Hartnett. His acting,

reputation, and clean image make him a solid choice.”

At that moment:

-Swish.

More people entered the platform at the front of the hall. Among
them were the head producer of *Pierrot: Birth of a Villain*, several
key staff members, three executives from Columbia Studio, and—

“······”

An Gabok, with a solemn expression. The key members of the

*Pierrot: Birth of a Villain* production team were met with a barrage
of camera flashes from the over one hundred journalists present.

-Click-click-click-click!

The hall was soon awash with blinding flashes.

“Hello.”

The head producer greeted the gathered reporters before

continuing.
“Before we begin, we have an announcement to make.”

Murmurs spread throughout the room as the journalists’ eyes

widened slightly. The head producer pressed on, unaffected by the
commotion.

“Recently, the lead actor for the role of Henry Gordon in *Pierrot:
Birth of a Villain* has been confirmed. We’d like to introduce him
first.”

The reporters’ eyes lit up, as if they’d struck gold. This was an
unexpected revelation.

*“Who is it? Chris Hartnett?”*

*“Chris Hartnett seems the most likely, but it could be Tom Brando
or Jack Gable. Anyway, coming here was a great call.”*

*“Just reveal it already!”*

*“Who is it? Who’s going to be the first villain in the Cinematic

Universe?”*

The producer turned to the right and gestured.

“Please come up.”

The actor everyone had been waiting for was about to be

introduced.

And then—

-Swish.

A man with a composed expression stepped up to the platform. His

black hair and brown blazer stood out.

“······”

The sight of the man, whose aura exuded cynicism, made the eyes
of the journalists widen further.
“Huh?”

“What?”

“······?”

Their expressions turned blank with confusion. But the dark-haired

man—

No, Kang Woo-jin—

“Nice to meet you all.”

—sat next to An Gabok and introduced himself in fluent English, his

tone low and steady.

“I’m Kang Woo-jin, the actor playing Henry Gordon in *Pierrot: Birth
of a Villain*.”

Chapter 400: Full Bloom (6)

Translator: Santos

In reality, Kang Woo-jin was filled with tension while waiting in the
holding room of the hotel where Columbia Studio's press conference
was to take place. From the moment he arrived at the hotel until his
name was finally called.

“...”

His serious and intense expression masked the nerves underneath.

‘Damn—why am I so nervous? I've experienced this before.’

He had been to press conferences crowded with over a hundred

reporters, but this was his first in Hollywood. Moreover, today’s
event was meant to showcase his power and make his presence
known to the world, which only added to the pressure.

Kang Woo-jin pushed himself to elevate his persona more than ever.
He doused his racing heart with imaginary ice water multiple times.

He needed to project strength and couldn’t afford to seem weak.

The weight of his detached demeanor grew heavier. He took a silent
breath to steady himself, regaining composure. Meanwhile, those
around him—Choi Sung-geon, the stylist team, and others—buzzed
with a mix of excitement and nervous energy.

“What do we do! Why am I so nervous?!”

“Exactly! This is intense! Woo-jin looks so calm, so we should be too,

but it’s impossible!!”

“So, once he steps out there, the whole world will know, right?!”

“Of course! I peeked earlier and there were over 100 reporters!”

“This is going to be huge.”

But Kang Woo-jin wasn’t listening. He was focusing on maintaining

his demeanor. Since it was a press conference, there was no fixed
script. He had to handle any question thrown at him or any situation
that arose on his own.

At that moment—

*Knock, knock.*

An international staff member knocked on the door and signaled

that it was time. The team's energy spiked. Choi Sung-geon grabbed
Kang Woo-jin's shoulder and said:

“Go and do great.”

Woo-jin nodded calmly.

“Yes, sir.”

He slowly followed the staff member out of the room. The noise of
the press conference grew louder as he approached the hall,
followed by the serious voice of the *Piero: Birth of a Villain*
producer.
“Come on up.”

It was the cue. Kang Woo-jin checked his composed expression one
last time before stepping through the door into the hall. The scene
immediately unfolded before him: the expansive hall, the stage
where Director An Ga-bok and the production team were seated,
and the sea of international reporters.

The expressions on the reporters' faces were priceless when they

saw him.

‘Everyone looks shocked. Guess they didn’t expect me.’

Oddly, seeing the dumbfounded faces of the international reporters

put Kang Woo-jin at ease, and with each confident step, he imbued
his walk with arrogance. Just like always, he was going to do this
*his way*. Woo-jin took his seat. Facing the wide-eyed reporters, he
spoke his first words.

“Nice to meet you. I am Kang Woo-jin, playing the role of Henry

Gordon in *Piero: Birth of a Villain*.”

He announced it to the world. Not one of the celebrated Hollywood

A-listers, but himself—the star of *Piero: Birth of a Villain*.

Surprised?

It was a simple but assertive introduction. But the international

reporters in the hall didn’t react immediately.

“...”

“...”

“...”

They just stared. Eyes blinked in disbelief. An unexpected figure had

appeared, and for at least five seconds, the entire hall was silent.

Watching the reporters’ stunned faces, Woo-jin thought:

‘They’re completely floored.’

He leaned into the microphone and spoke again.

“Are you surprised?”

The question wasn’t one of concern—it was almost a taunt. Like,

*What? Surprised, aren’t you?* Regardless, after his question, the
reporters finally came back to life.

“Oh.”

“Huh.”

Soon, the international reporters started snapping out of their daze.

But they still couldn’t fully grasp what they were seeing. Even so,
instinct took over, and cameras were lifted. Within moments, a flurry
of flashes erupted.

*Click-click-click-click-click!*

*Click-click-click-click-click!*

The deluge of flashbulbs was blinding, and the reporters began

shouting with excitement.

“Kang Woo-jin?! Is it really Kang Woo-jin?!”

“This—this is unbelievable!”

“Who could have guessed this?!”

“Regardless, this is a scoop!”

They were thrown into a frenzy by the unexpected revelation. The

kind of surprise no one had seen coming.

“Is it true? Did Columbia Studios really cast Kang Woo-jin for the
role?”

“This means they’re kicking off their massive *Cinematic Universe*

project with him!”
“So, does this mean the project will be led by a Korean director and
actor?”

“Wait, if Kang Woo-jin got the part, that means he beat out Chris
Hartnett and all those other big names. What happened during the
audition?!”

The international reporters were now losing it. Kang Woo-jin,

however, remained composed. Director An Ga-bok, seated to Woo-
jin’s left, flashed a subtle smile.

‘This is quite the spectacle.’

It was the reaction he had hoped for and anticipated.

Including Kang Woo-jin at this press conference had been strategic.

A planned event with a twist. Hollywood had been buzzing about
Woo-jin since Cannes, *Piero*, *Beauty and the Beast*, and
*Benevolent Evil* among other projects. Columbia Studios had no
intention of making Woo-jin's debut a bland affair. Judging by the
reporters' reactions, the plan was a resounding success.

And the mastermind behind it? The female producer of *Piero*.

She now began the formal briefing.

“*Piero: Birth of a Villain*, the opening of the *Cinematic Universe*,

will be led by actor Kang Woo-jin.”

It was the start of the explanation outlining the project, including the
status of the movie’s production and future plans for the *Cinematic
Universe*.

But most reporters were only half listening.

*Taptaptap!*

*Taptaptaptap!*

They were too busy typing furiously on their laptops.

Meanwhile, at *World Disney Pictures*:

The meeting room was filled with the production team for *Beauty
and the Beast*.

“Good, then let’s proceed with the auditions and screen tests in five
days.”

They were finalizing details for the upcoming auditions after sending
out relevant materials to the candidate actors.

“Yes, let’s inform them right away.”

“By the way, which role do we test first, ‘Beast’ or ‘Bella’?”

“Shouldn’t we start with ‘Beast’? We can decide ‘Bella’ after.”

“I agree. Deciding on ‘Beast’ first and having him present during

‘Bella’s’ audition to check their chemistry sounds good.”

“Not only for acting but to test their vocal harmony too.”

“It would definitely help in choosing the actress for ‘Bella.’”

At that moment:

“Ah!”

One staff member, who had been idly checking his phone, suddenly
widened his eyes.

“This—this is big!”

Everyone’s attention snapped to him as he waved his phone,

displaying the headline of a newly released article.

“Kang Woo-jin has been confirmed as the lead for *Piero: Birth of a
Villain*! He’s going to play Henry Gordon!”

The room buzzed with commotion.

This reaction was mirrored all over LA.

In a van speeding down a road, Hollywood top actor Chris Hartnett
reacted to the news.

“Chris, look at this. The actor for Henry Gordon has been
announced. It’s Kang Woo-jin, and it was revealed at a press
conference.”

“Haha. No surprise there. I knew they wouldn’t just announce it in a

simple article. They went all out with a staged reveal. This will make
waves.”

“I’m still bummed. Columbia Studios should have disclosed the

*Cinematic Universe* plans earlier.”

“What’s the difference? I’ll be involved in another role. No problem,

right?”

“Yeah, true. But how are you feeling about tomorrow’s audition?”

“No holding back. I’ll give it my all. I need to be part of this.”

Meanwhile, Miley Cara, preparing for her *Bella* role:

“So, he got it, huh?”

“Huh? What?”

“Kang Woo-jin. He’s been cast as the lead for *Piero: Birth of a
Villain*.”

“Oh—yeah? Oh, really?!”

“Yes. The news is spreading fast. I should send him a congratulatory

message.”

“Wait, does that mean the *Cinematic Universe* starts with Kang
Woo-jin? That’s incredible!”

“Surprised? Not really. I didn’t see the auditions, but I’m sure Woo-
jin brought something no one else could. He’s an intriguing man. It’s
amazing how he keeps his momentum going. Things are going to be
noisy for a while.”
Cara’s eyes shone with excitement.

“This will give *Benevolent Evil* another boost too.”

Naturally, this news reached the ears of Joseph Felton, a renowned

Hollywood producer.

“Haha! This is brilliant! Just brilliant!”

In fact, the entirety of Hollywood witnessed the moment Kang Woo-

jin’s debut was cemented. Even while the press conference was
ongoing, articles were being published nonstop, sparking varied
reactions from actors all over Hollywood—amazement, curiosity,
disbelief, intrigue.

Kang Woo-jin was creating a storm.

What about the numerous film studios, distributors, and production

companies in LA?

“Kang Woo-jin’s confirmed?!”

“What are you talking about?”

“*Piero*! Columbia Studios has decided on Kang Woo-jin!”

“What?! Are you serious?!”

“If Kang Woo-jin gets the lead in *Beauty

and the Beast* too, wouldn’t this be unprecedented?!”

“No way.”

Most reactions were filled with shock and confusion. The situation
was rolling in an unexpected direction, something unprecedented
even in the history of Hollywood.

At this point, trying to predict what would happen next was almost
absurd.
Even though this was just the beginning—even though the only
news so far was that Kang Woo-jin had been cast as Henry Gordon—
Hollywood was already shaking like an earthquake.

The excitement quickly spread to audiences around the world.

It was going viral.

As articles appeared in real-time, the fingers of international

audiences raced across their keyboards and screens. Undoubtedly,
within hours, this news would be known globally.

And back in Korea, now approaching 4 a.m.:

『Breaking News: Kang Woo-jin confirmed as the lead in *Piero: Birth

of a Villain*, officially starting his Hollywood career as the lead
actor』

The speed of the news was staggering.

An hour later, back at the press conference hall:

Over an hour and a few minutes had passed since Kang Woo-jin’s
dramatic entry. The press conference, which included Columbia
Studios representatives, Director An Ga-bok, Kang Woo-jin, and over
a hundred reporters, was nearing its end. During that time, the main
producer had shared many details and explanations with the
journalists: the direction of the *Cinematic Universe*, the reasons
behind the project, the status of *Piero: Birth of a Villain*, and more.

Finally, she turned to the still-busy reporters and spoke:

“That concludes our explanation. We’ll now take questions.”

The journalists, who had been holding back their eagerness, all
raised their hands at once, their faces practically shouting *Pick me!
*. And, of course, their focus was on Kang Woo-jin. He was the prime
target.

“Over there, please.”

The first chosen was a red-haired female reporter, who directed her
question to Kang Woo-jin.

“First of all, congratulations on your successful debut in Hollywood. I

have so many questions it’s hard to choose just one. Hmm—do you
have anything to say to your growing international fanbase as your
recognition rises with *Benevolent Evil*, *Beauty and the Beast*,
and now *Piero: Birth of a Villain*?”

Normally, an actor would pause to think, but Kang Woo-jin spoke

immediately, still and steady.

“In my Best Actor acceptance speech at Cannes, I said, ‘I recently

got a home in LA, so I’m aiming for this side.’ I also mentioned that
people should keep an eye on me. I know that became a hot topic,
and some people weren’t happy about it, right?”

With no hesitation and seemingly indifferent to global scrutiny, he

continued:

“I don’t break my promises. As you can see, I’ve taken the first step
of that promise.”

It was pure *My Way*.

“See you at the Oscars.”