I Want to Live
"Entertainment World—! Hello, this is MC Jeong-i. Today we're meeting the godlike rookie actor who's shaking up Chungmuro and Yeouido—Ha Mu-yeong! Welcome!"
With the MC's lively voice, the camera angle shifted. He looked mid-twenties at most—a man with sculpted features smiled easily and greeted them.
"Hello. I'm rookie actor Ha Mu-yeong."
"Mu-yeong, you must be incredibly busy these days."
"I still made time to see you, Jeong-i."
"Oh my goodness. PD-nim! If Jeong-i's heart stops from excitement today, please process it as a workplace injury, okay?"
The interview began with light jokes.
"Now, Mu-yeong. You've earned the nickname 'godlike rookie actor.' Did you know that?"
"Yes, I've heard about it."
"And do you know why people call you that?"
At the MC's playful tone, Mu-yeong laughed awkwardly. His pleasant low voice and refined gestures mesmerized the staff watching him.
"I take it as praise for embodying my roles well."
"'Well' doesn't even begin to cover it."
I thought he was possessed by a god.
Acting so crazy it felt like real possession.
This is a rookie? No way. He must be a god.
Ha Mu-yeong summoned the character into reality. Unimaginable with any other actor. Irreplaceable. A blessing on Korea's entertainment world.
Don't be shocked, everyone. Just look at his face. Is that even human?
And apparently he's from Seoyeon University. He's really not human.
And so on.
When netizens' comments popped up on screen, Mu-yeong covered his face with his hands in embarrassment. The camera director capturing the moment smiled warmly.
"You're the one who created the box-office reversal legend purely through word of mouth. Your debut film Plague drew 4 million viewers, Sunlight on the Street drew 7 million, and your first drama lead You Are a Star, I Am a Star hit an incredible 32% viewership. All this happened just this year—can you believe it?"
The MC, excited, waved her cue cards. It was her signature move from her comedian days—something she did only when truly surprised or impressed.
"I've been fortunate to meet good projects and good people."
"And humble on top of that! Now let's get into our deep-dive segment. When did you first decide to become an actor?"
"It was around the time I graduated high school."
"Oh? Was there a particular reason?"
Mu-yeong nodded calmly.
"My family situation was bad. Worse than you could imagine. One day, when I thought I really couldn't go on like this, that I would die if I kept living this way… someone told me I could live another life through acting."
His pupils glittered under the studio lights. He was clearly recalling a not-so-distant past.
"So I started. To survive."
Smack!
"You f***ing unlucky brat!"
Smack!
"You devil-spawn!"
The blows reeked of alcohol. My lip split; my nose bled. But today I couldn't back down.
"Say that again!"
"…I'll leave when I graduate. Give me back the bank account Mom left in my name."
"You ungrateful bastard!"
Smack!
The man beating me senseless was my stepfather.
Ever since my mother died in an accident, we'd been together about five years.
He was, to me, a living hell.
"I spent it all feeding you, clothing you, housing you! What, you think I'm some pushover?"
He grabbed my collar threateningly. My head spun; I couldn't even stand properly.
"I took care of the brat who killed his parents and now you glare at me asking for money?"
"…It was an accident."
"It wouldn't have happened if not for you. You drag evil spirits with you. You should never have been born."
I could see things others couldn't.
Not just wandering spirits—there were especially vivid anomalies. When a black, smog-like shape appeared, something bad always happened. My mother's death was one of those cases.
"Why do you think I took in some kid with no blood ties?"
My stepfather grabbed my hair and shook it mercilessly. I felt sick; my ears rang.
"And what? You'll leave when you graduate? Stop yapping and get ready to receive a shamanic spirit!"
Since childhood, I'd been dragged to fortune-tellers. But every shaman only tilted their head.
– The child has divine energy but it's of a different kind.– The child has divine energy but no god to serve.
They all said, "Wait until adulthood; something will manifest." My stepfather pinned his hopes on my "powers" exploding.
"I don't want to."
"What the f***?"
"I said I don't want to receive the spirit."
I resisted, trying to pry off his hand. If I didn't break away now, he'd hold my throat forever. He'd chain me to a shrine and make me live like a dog for life.
"Stop it. Please."
"Ha! Look at this brat."
Thud!
He slammed my head against the wall, then grabbed a soju bottle and smashed it.
Crash!
Sharp glass glittered in the darkness.
I was so terrified I couldn't move.
"Like mother, like son. Both of you earn your beatings by disobeying. Mu-yeong. Maybe I spoiled you too much, huh?"
He approached with a creepy grin.
He was a devil. A devil in human skin.
"Want me to scratch that pretty face so you can't go out anymore? Would that make you behave?"
Instinctively I stepped back. My fingers brushed an ashtray. Trembling, I gripped it.
"Ah."
It appeared.
Black smog slowly rose and wrapped around my stepfather's body. Horrifying, yet strangely mesmerizing—like sulfurous smoke from hell pulling him in.
"What the hell?"
Sensing the change in my eyes, my stepfather patted his own body nervously.
"I-Is it here?"
His voice instantly sobered up.
Whenever it appeared, there were no exceptions.
From minor accidents to major death.
I never knew which.
"You f***ing brat! Is it here?!"
I gave the slightest nod. My stepfather turned pale, then lunged at me in a frenzy.
"E-Exorcise it! Drive it out!"
As if I could control it.
I could only see.
If I could have, I wouldn't have let it take my mom.
"You cursed brat—!"
I don't know which comes first.
Do they come because I can see them? Or do I simply see them when they come?
But my stepfather didn't care about that. Screaming, he charged at me, and I swung the ashtray.
Thud!
"Ughhh!"
Blood oozed thickly from his nose. I bolted up the semi-basement stairs barefoot.
"Stop right there, you f***ing brat!"
"Huff—huff—"
The street was silent. It felt like my stepfather was chasing me from behind, and I couldn't stop. The fear of death was stronger than the pain in my feet.
"Uwehhk—"
I stumbled into a nearby park.
Gripping a trash can, I vomited. Along with stomach acid came blood. Maybe I'd hit my head wrong earlier—everything was spinning.
"Damn it."
I couldn't hold myself up.
I needed to move, but I couldn't even lift a finger.
Through my blurry vision, the park clock came into focus.
It was almost midnight, the day of my eighteenth birthday, the day I was supposed to escape that house.
…I shouldn't be lying here like this.
"Kid."
Then someone placed a hand over my eyes.
It was warm.
"Why are you like this out here?"
A mysterious voice, its gender and age impossible to tell.
Tears began streaming down my face without me realizing.
"Oh my. You've suffered a lot, haven't you?"
Yes. I thought I was going to die.
And now I really am.
"Life's cruel. When it twists, it twists all the way."
Why me?
Everyone else lives normally. Why only me?
"Because there's a god inside you. A normal fate can't contain it."
What are you talking about?
What god?
"Do you want to live?"
Of course.
"Even if you survive like this, your life won't change. It'll still be hell."
No, that's too much. F***.
What did I do so wrong?
"There is a way, though."
A light laugh echoed.
"Live someone else's life instead of your own. 'Borrowing a life' is a better way to put it."
You've been talking in riddles. Explain it more simply.
"Mu-yeong. Enter someone's shadow and erase your own shadow."
That's not even the meaning of my name.
"Think of this as a birthday present. I believe you'll do well. Besides, you've got those special eyes."
Those eyes are the reason I'm like this.
But no answer came.
All I felt was someone's warm touch.
I let go of consciousness right then.
"Goodness!"
A janitor shook me violently, his expression beyond startled, almost disgusted.
"What on earth—dressed like this out here? We need an ambulance!"
My head felt like it would crack open, but otherwise I was okay.
It was the same park where I'd lost consciousness.
Blood-stained clothes, stinging wounds.
Everything as it was.
"Did someone beat you up? Should I call the police?"
"…What time is it?"
"A little after six. Here, at least put this on. And this too."
He took off his coat and even covered me with newspaper. Snow was piled all around. Surviving the night was a miracle.
"Hey! This is Hanbit Park!"
I looked down at the crinkling newspaper. My head was foggy, but then one line leapt out at me.
It was an interview article with a famous actor.
[The charm of acting? Borrowing another person's life—]
"No, no. Hanbit Park in Surang-dong! Huh? You're saying you already left? What are you talking about? I just called for the first time."
[A chance to live someone else's life. When reality gets unbearable, that's when I act. The moment I blend with a character, I hide in their life and erase myself.]
It was like an electric shock ripping through me.
The words were almost exactly what that mysterious voice had said.
I jumped up and handed the coat back to the janitor.
"Kid? Are you okay?"
"Thank you for waking me."
"W-Wait a sec!"
I was barefoot, but it didn't matter.
He'd been drunk last night; he was probably passed out by now. I had to pack my things and get out. Run anywhere. Run and live.
Act.
"Huff—huff—"
If I want to escape this miserable life—
Patter-patter!
Act—!
As I ran, my heart pounded wildly. At last I'd found a path. A way to save poor me, Ha Mu-yeong.
"I'll secure the area. Stay back."
The alley in front of my house came into view.
Police cars and residents were milling about in chaos.
People flinched at my appearance and stepped aside.
"What happened?"
"Obvious, isn't it? Drunk and collapsed."
"It was freezing last night. Even snowed."
"And to be found like that, tsk tsk."
"Maybe he fell forward? His nose is smashed."
"Called an ambulance for nothing."
Through the murmuring crowd, a familiar face appeared.
My stepfather's corpse, sprawled out stiff. A policeman covered it with a white sheet.
"Kid?"
I walked forward as if in a trance.
The shamans' words had been true—that something would change when I became an adult.
What's that now?
More than his death, a strange phenomenon around his body caught my eye. Shimmering golden pollen scattered around the corpse—the exact opposite energy of the smog.
Fortune.
I instinctively understood what it signified.My stepfather's death was the first stroke of luck in my life.