The set for Janie's Room stood inside Warehouse No. 8 of the filming site.
It was a tiny, dingy room cluttered with all sorts of trash. Janie's face was streaked with grime, her hair matted and sticky. She checked her reflection in the mirror, her black eyes gleaming.
"Janie, ready."
"Yes!"
The staff who had been checking props around the set stepped back. The space bounded only by walls now became the child's own little world. The time of Plague began to unfold in an instant.
"Ready—"
At the director's signal, the small dolly (camera cart) began to move. Pulling the trailer forward—closer and closer.
"Action!"
The camera's angle followed the point of view of an insect, skimming across the floor toward Janie. At the sound cue, a staff member hidden behind the wall began pounding furiously with his fists.
Bang! Bang!
Janie turned her head nervously, glancing front and back.
"When the dolly moves in, get your face as close to the lens as possible. We want it to feel like the bug's right on your eye."
"Fill the screen with it, right?"
Remembering the director's instructions, the girl fixed her gaze on the floor. The camera came rushing toward her at high speed, the cinematographer's grip tightening.
Whirrr.
Close—but not touching her face. That razor-thin tension made the operator's hands sweat. Yuna (the actress) delivered her line.
"…Why?"
Screech!
The camera stopped just short of her nose.
Yuna flinched but kept her wide eyes locked on the lens, waiting for the director's cue. In the hush, the whir of film rolling filled the space—then Jin Kyung-moon's voice rang out.
"Okay! Cut!"
"Phew! That scared me."
"Ah, sorry, Yuna. I went a bit too far."
The camera had gotten closer than planned. Another inch and it would've been an NG—or worse, a collision. The cinematographer apologized, but Yuna only smiled.
"It's okay. Really."
Anyway, they'd nailed the cut.
And how could she complain when it was the cinematographer himself? He looked around and called to the staff.
"Check this brake for me. It's supposed to catch tight, but it keeps slipping. Got any duct tape?"
As they moved efficiently, the girl headed for the corner of the set. Mooyoung was sitting on a folding chair, watching her.
"How was it?"
"The best. You were amazing."
Double thumbs up!
Yuna giggled as the makeup team retouched her grime. The dirty streaks on her face darkened again.
What an incredible kid.
Since the ritual ceremony, this was already Yuna's third straight day of solo filming. The schedule had been packed tight to save production costs, so they were shooting everything possible in the constructed set.
In short, wringing it all out in one go.
"Script supervisor, next is scene 17, right?"
"Yes. Then 3, 104, and 98 in that order. Rip the clothes. Oh, and switch the calendar only when moving from 104 to 98, okay?"
"Got it."
"Director! The fourth take we just did—is that the final okay? Should I log that one?"
"Yeah, but just in case, keep the third one too."
And to make it trickier, they were shooting completely out of sequence. It's normal not to film in story order—but no one expected it to be this chaotic from day one.
The script supervisor's got it rough.
Not just her—Yuna had to play both future Janie and past Janie several times over. And she was only nine!
"Incredible" didn't even begin to cover it.
"Oppa, ah—"
Whenever there was a break, Yuna came over to Mooyoung to get a piece of chocolate.
Just as Jin Kyung-moon had expected, his presence seemed to be a huge source of comfort for her. Her mother, the official guardian, was all but forgotten—Yuna stuck to Mooyoung like glue.
"Ah—"
Feeding her a piece, Mooyoung asked softly.
"Were you scared? When the camera came that close?"
"I'm fine. It stopped right in front of me anyway. But, oppa, what were you looking at?"
The girl was perceptive. Even while acting, she picked up perfectly on the atmosphere and subtle cues around her.
Especially when it came to Mooyoung—her sensitivity sharpened even more.
"You kept glancing upward."
"You noticed that?"
When Mooyoung tilted his head up, Yuna followed his gaze. The high, shadowy ceiling was crowded with lights—far more than there had been during the web drama days.
That thing.
Among them hung one dark, unlit fixture—with a familiar stray spirit clinging to it.
It looked just like the one from the ritual day—and yet, it refused to leave the filming site. First in the big warehouse, now here in Warehouse No. 8.
Annoying.
The thing, which had been wandering among the crew, now stuck there as if honey-coated—dangling in human form.
Impossible not to notice.
"Oppa?"
"Nothing. It's just… first time seeing a film shoot up close. Pretty amazing."
"Aw, come on. You'll be filming with me starting tomorrow, right?"
"Outside looks awesome though, huh?"
"Yeah! It felt like another world. I've never seen a set this big."
Beyond Warehouse No. 8, the entire filming lot was being transformed. Amid the excavators and construction equipment, pieces of Plague's world were taking shape—including Louis's little corner shop.
"Yuna, can you come here for a sec?"
"Yes!"
Once she was gone, Mooyoung openly stared up at the ceiling. It was hard to see in the shadows, but there was definitely a dark aura swirling around it.
"What's wrong? Something up?"
Passing crew members asked curiously. It wasn't uncommon for mice or birds to sneak in. Sharing their concern, they too looked up.
"That light up there."
"Which one?"
"Second from the left, fifth from the bottom."
"The one that's off?"
He nodded slightly, hesitating over how to explain.
He couldn't exactly say, There's a ghost hanging there.
"Let's see."
A staffer shaded his eyes with his hand and squinted.
"Huh?"
Then his expression twisted oddly, his tone uneasy.
"Why's that one shaking?"
"It's shaking?"
"That's why you were looking, right?"
"Ah, yes. Exactly."
So the ghost's movements looked like the light itself trembling. With its limbs wrapped around it, the fixture wasn't clearly visible.
"Director, can you look at that for a sec?"
At the staffer's call, everyone turned their attention upward. Indoors, there was no wind.
"What's wrong with that thing?"
"Should I climb up and check?"
"Nah, leave it. It's off anyway."
If it were a light in use, they'd fix it—but since it wasn't, no need to bother. At the lighting chief's word, the crew nodded, curiosity lingering.
"Oh, right. Director, the HMI 6K is set up and ready."
"Pass that over the window."
"Anyone got a spare power adapter?"
They were busier and more frantic than any other crew. Their curiosity faded quickly, and they returned to their work.
Only Mooyoung, who had nothing to do, kept staring—
"Mr. Mooyoung."
Someone tapped him on the shoulder while he was still locked in a silent staring contest with the stray spirit.
"Oh—hello."
It was a staffer from the still photography team, the one responsible for promotional stills. The DSLR hanging around his neck looked heavy.
"That thing's really bothering you too, huh?"
"Yes, kind of."
"Maybe I'll snap a picture. Who knows? Could be a couple of rats fighting up there. Ha ha."
"The ceiling? Are you sure it's safe?"
"I'll just need a ladder. The lighting team doesn't seem interested, so if anything happens, I'll just take one shot from a high angle and come down. Want to give me a hand?"
The man tilted his head—a gesture asking if Mooyoung could steady the ladder from below. Mooyoung readily agreed and followed him.
Creak—creak!
"Heave-ho!"
The staffer planted his foot on the ladder. People nearby glanced over but quickly lost interest—no one had time to spare.
"Be careful."
"No worries. As long as you hold it tight, we're good."
"Then I swear, I won't let go even if I die."
Mooyoung watched from below as the man climbed up. The stray spirit dangling upside down began to twitch.
Huh?
It swayed, at first playfully—then the motion grew wilder and clearer by the second. Nearing the ceiling, the staffer muttered nervously,
"It's shaking even more up close!"
Creak—
Click! Click!
Even as he spoke, he reached up with his camera and snapped shots toward the ceiling, twisting his arm this way and that.
"Huh?"
That's when it happened.
The spirit suddenly dropped straight down toward Mooyoung. Their eyes met for a brief instant—
—and the man shouted.
"Hey! There—look out!"
Creak—
The bolt barely holding the light fixture gave way.
The light—big as a man's head—snapped free and fell. The man barely managed to deflect it with his other hand.
Thud! Clang!
"What happened?"
"Everyone okay?"
"What the—what was that?!"
The shattered light lay behind Mooyoung. Had the staffer not hit it aside, it would've landed right on his head.
The spirit brushed past Mooyoung's shoulder, smiled faintly, and vanished.
"Mr. Mooyoung, are you alright?"
"Why'd you have to mess with that?"
"That was close!"
"Oppa! Are you okay?!"
Mooyoung touched his face, dazed. Then he smiled to calm everyone down.
"I'm fine. Not a scratch. What about you, sir?"
"Ah… I'm fine too, but…"
He'd done it now.
The still photographer looked mortified. The lighting director's face flushed bright red as he burst out in anger.
"Why the hell did you touch that?!"
"Sorry, it kept shaking—I couldn't just ignore it…"
"So why is that your concern? Hey! Get up there and check the others!"
"Yes, sir."
A lighting crew member climbed the ladder. Mooyoung, still uneasy, gave a sheepish smile.
Then—flash!
"Hm?"
From the broken light's socket drifted a fine shower of golden dust. Not dust, but light.
What…?
Puzzled, Mooyoung looked up. The lighting tech atop the ladder inspected the ceiling, then shouted:
"Chief! The whole rail up here's gone loose!"
"What?"
"Uh—someone grab it quick! The side brackets on Section 3 are all undone! Senior! Get up on the other side and hold it—hurry!"
He didn't fully understand, but it was clear something serious had happened. The lighting crew scattered in alarm.
"What's going on?"
Director Jin Kyung-moon came rushing over.
"They said the rail brackets were loose."
"The rail—as in…?"
The long beam running across the ceiling of the set. Usually, ten to twenty lights were mounted on it.
"How could that happen?"
"I don't know yet. Let's tighten it first, then talk. One moment."
Mooyoung stroked Yuna's hair as she clung to his waist and watched the scene unfold. That massive rail—
If that had fallen… the entire set might've been destroyed.
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