In the endlessly dark void, the robotic female voice rang out. What she said was, "Unlock the freedom of the role."
Unlock freedom?
Freedom?
Standing blankly in the empty space, Woojin blinked and quietly asked back,
"Freedom? Like in a game??"
Of course, he was not speaking to the robotic woman. If anything, it was closer to talking to himself. The moment he heard her line, the first thing that came to mind was a mobile game he used to play. Its popularity had faded by now, but back then, it had been a massive hit.
The greatest strength of that game, which all users praised in common, was freedom.
Not only could you move freely across its vast map, but there were no fixed rules either, and players could do whatever they wanted. That was the freedom the game offered. The freedom to run wild without being constrained by the system.
And now, that very word—freedom—had echoed through this empty space.
So?
What?
Is that the end of the message?
After the line about unlocking the freedom of the role, there was no great change in Woojin.
…
It had been the same during the last "role integration." But back then, it had felt as though some kind of change appeared inside him almost immediately.
Then it happened.
-Sss.
Without warning, something like a glass wall appeared in front of Kang Woojin.
'What is this?'
Frowning, Woojin reached out his hand, but he felt nothing.
Does it really exist?
He was confused.
Maybe it was something visible only from the inside.
Then the transparent object—
-Zzzz.
Slowly cracked.
It looked as though glass were breaking on its own. The lines kept deepening.
And in the end—
"Is it breaking?"
The transparent wall shattered into pieces.
There was no sound.
But the wall had definitely broken apart. The fragments did not scatter onto the ground of the void. Instead, they vanished into the air.
Kang Woojin could only watch the sight unfolding before his eyes.
How much time had passed?
Woojin stared blankly into the empty space, as if his soul had drained out of him. He felt as though he had lost all sense of time, as though he were being sucked into the void itself.
No.
Get a hold of yourself.
Woojin lightly shook his head and brushed back his black hair.
"Haah—"
The changes that had appeared were now completely gone. At present, it looked no different from the usual empty void.
But—
'Yeah… it does feel a little different.'
This time, the change was not visual. It was something internal.
It was a matter of Kang Woojin's inner world.
How should he describe it?
It felt as though the space inside him had expanded infinitely. It felt like the paths Woojin could act through had now opened endlessly before him.
Kang Woojin turned his head.
He looked at the white rectangles floating in the air.
"...No way."
The void's ability to read a script or screenplay, to experience it, and to absorb the life of that role and everything tied to it, had always fundamentally followed the world of the work itself, unless Woojin made some unavoidable mistake.
It had been a single frame.
The worldbuilding, the background, the lines, the actions, the conflicts, the emotions.
By repeatedly reading and experiencing all of it, and by constantly performing it, his understanding of the role became absurdly clear. Its outlines and vividness intensified.
But it never went beyond that.
The roles Kang Woojin took on had no choice but to follow the path set by the screenplay or script. Even though Woojin was the one embodying the role, he could not change the role's inherent core values. That was the base setting.
The role's lines.
The role's life.
The role's world.
The ability granted by the void could not provide anything beyond that.
It was like a one-way road with no side paths.
'Yes. I know that from experience.'
There had been a few times in the past when Woojin's real mistakes had been mistaken for ad-libs. Directors, assuming it was intentional, had praised him endlessly, but in the end, those moments had still not escaped the original values of the role.
The same was true of the capabilities he had displayed recently. The role's foundation remained intact, and only the character shifted. He could digest different characters, but the script or screenplay itself never changed.
That frame had been an unchanging law.
Until now, Kang Woojin had only moved within the boundaries of a fixed script or screenplay, but he had never found it especially uncomfortable or lacking. The degree of freedom had been low, but there was no real doubt about it.
At first, Woojin had lacked acting knowledge in the first place.
And besides—
'Even that was already insanely good.'
Woojin's current status proved it.
But—
"It's broken."
The freedom of the role that had now opened was no longer a one-way road. It had opened countless paths.
No—
that was the sensation he could clearly feel.
Kang Woojin looked even deeper into himself.
He even closed his eyes.
…
Subtly, the void's ability no longer felt as though it was forcing lines or actions upon him. The values embedded in the screenplay and script had vanished.
There was no frame.
Of course, the fundamental principles remained the same.
The void's ability itself had not changed. It had merely become more flexible, allowing irregular movement. Naturally, because every element of the role still remained intact, Kang Woojin could now move within it however he wished.
'Oh… is this really how it works? If that's true…'
In the world of Leech, he could borrow Park Haseong's face, emotions, and expressions, while openly using Assistant Manager Park's lines. He could discard fixed dialogue and change it however he wanted. That was the first thought that came to Woojin.
"Something like ad-lib?"
It was clearly one step more advanced.
While preserving everything about the original role, while blending in the individuality of other characters, Woojin could now create new things that had never existed in the script or screenplay.
Under the command of the owner, Kang Woojin.
A little later—
Having gained freedom within the role, Kang Woojin immediately began throwing himself into acting different roles.
The process itself was the same as before.
It was no different from the empty void.
But Kang Woojin—
"For now, this is enough."
He did not choose drastic change right away.
He chose gradual immersion instead.
This was different from role synthesis. Since he could now act freely beyond the frame of the script or screenplay, he needed to approach it with even more caution.
Once again, Kang Woojin immersed himself in the filming of Leech.
"Action."
He drew out everything that was Park Haseong and showed it to the world.
At the same time, Kang Woojin could feel it all with certainty.
'Ah… I think I get what this means now.'
Free use of the role.
The road that had once been singular had changed completely. The road itself was gone. Kang Woojin had become free.
He could move in any direction. While keeping everything that made Park Haseong who he was, he could easily alter the fixed route and even reshape various other facets.
Woojin was slowly learning how to adapt to the greatly transformed void—with his body, his mind, and even his thoughts.
He needed to become skilled at it.
Not only outwardly, but inwardly as well.
He had to keep reviewing it again and again.
Acting is not something done only in front of a camera.
Even when alone, even inside the void, Kang Woojin could summon up a role. He had more than enough time to practice and master it.
'That woman in the void said it was a "core ability that exceeds the basic specs." If that's true… then it means my acting ability itself has improved.'
That did not mean he had suddenly become such a master that he no longer needed the void at all.
But he had undoubtedly improved far beyond before.
Even so, Kang Woojin was still Kang Woojin.
And because of that, he instinctively understood.
Sharpen it more.
And then sharpen it again.
The key is to use the newly acquired ability comfortably and naturally. He needed to be able to move freely in any situation. The ideal method was to combine it with his existing abilities and maximize the synergy.
People around him might call him a terrifying actor.
But it would be better to become an even more insane monster instead.
Whether it was about his plans or about the future—
he had no intention of hiding his fangs.
Well, there's plenty of time, so there's no need to rush.
As always, Kang Woojin continued on with his calm daily routine.
About two days passed.
[Our Table special broadcast breaks its own record with 21% ratings… viewers cry out, "Give us season 2 already!"]
Monday the 22nd.
Another weekday had begun, but the internet was still overflowing with Kang Woojin's name.
[Special feature: The recent first large-scale audition for Beneficial Evil—what kind of actors were cast?]
The Baeksang Awards remained a blazing hot topic in both the media and public opinion, while the Kimjaban Makguksu cup noodles, which caused shortages and mass-buying phenomena, enjoyed enormous popularity.
On video platforms such as YouTube, memes using those cup noodles were pouring out one after another.
Around this time, an issue that had started in Hollywood began slowly drawing attention in Korea.
[Overseas: Miley Cara, who recently visited Korea… rumors spread through foreign media of a collaboration with a Korean actor on her next album]
It was news related to Miley Cara.
Because she had recently visited Korea, it drew even more interest. But it failed to become a major sensation, overshadowed by Kang Woojin's explosive popularity.
Even so, the media and online communities stirred up a fair amount of buzz.
Then, on the 23rd—
Kang Woojin woke up in a hotel room in Jeonju and met his team as he prepared to head to the Leech filming site. The moment he got into the elevator, Choi Seonggeon, with his ponytail, suddenly broke into a bright smile.
"The timing's perfect."
What he was looking at was a message from the company side—more specifically, from the PR team. As he read it, Choi Seonggeon's smile deepened.
"Woojin, it's out. Anyone who misses this flow is basically an idiot."
Choi Seonggeon showed him his phone.
[Exclusive: Kang Woojin to participate in Miley Cara's next album]
This had been intentionally leaked by BW Entertainment.
Late March.
March, which had caused wave after wave of uproar, finally ended, and April began.
Before they knew it, people's clothes had grown lighter. Spring had arrived.
The weather had softened, but the matters surrounding Kang Woojin were anything but peaceful.
As soon as spring began, Japan in particular grew noisy.
The news had reached Japan slightly later than Korea, so the reaction there came a bit more slowly—but the Kang Woojin fever still caught fire there as well.
Kimjaban Makguksu cup noodles had already entered the Japanese market.
And BW Entertainment, too, was busier than ever.
[Official: Ryu Jungmin joins BW Entertainment… now under the same agency as Kang Woojin and Hong Hyeyeon. The momentum of BW Entertainment is terrifying]
They had recruited Ryu Jungmin and a significant number of other actors, and with monster-level star Kang Woojin at the forefront, they even held a large-scale event to attract aspiring actors.
Naturally, an enormous crowd gathered.
BW Entertainment was no longer a small company.
It had grown into a mid-sized company with real influence.
Meanwhile, Kang Woojin threw himself into filming Leech.
Originally, because of Leech's tight filming schedule, Woojin was supposed to return to Japan by the end of April. Among his many commitments, the most important were the final filming for The Stranger's Grim Sacrifice and work related to the anime Boy Friend: Remake.
Filming, schedule, filming, schedule.
Time evaporated like steam.
The first week of April.
Then the second.
Before he knew it, it was already Wednesday, April 14th. The time was around 9 a.m.
Today, somewhat unusually, Kang Woojin had been seen not in Jeonju, where Leech was being filmed, but in Sangam-dong, at a major film production company called Harmony Film.
It was a mid-sized studio located inside a towering high-rise building.
The appointment was at 10, but Kang Woojin arrived nearly an hour early, his cap pulled low over his face.
-Swish.
After saying goodbye to the stylist and the others, Kang Woojin and Choi Seonggeon stepped into the studio.
The thing that immediately caught Woojin's eye was this.
'Oh? It's bigger than I expected.'
In front of the studio was a fairly large screen, and in front of that were temporary chairs. There looked to be more than thirty of them. No one was sitting there yet, but a few staff members could be seen finishing up preparations.
Among them were several familiar faces, including the assistant director.
"Ah! Woojin, you're early?! Wow, it's been a while!"
"Hello, Assistant Director."
"I've been watching how well things have been going for you lately! Hahaha."
He was the assistant director of Island of the Missing.
In other words, he was a direct junior of the renowned director Kwon Gitaek. The production crew around him were from the same team. Even the production manager who finished his call and came over to greet Woojin was from the Island of the Missing production team.
Naturally—
Harmony Film was the company handling the production of Island of the Missing.
The staff who had not seen Woojin in a long time enthusiastically talked about all the things he had caused lately, but Woojin kept a blank expression throughout.
"Yes, it was possible thanks to you all."
He responded appropriately.
'Wow, this guy's energy is still exploding.'
Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes.
Then exactly twenty minutes later—
"Ah, so you were here."
A gentle male voice echoed through the studio.
It was a familiar voice.
Director Kwon Gitaek.
When Woojin turned around, Director Kwon Gitaek was walking toward him with a warm smile. He extended his hand.
"I know you must be busy filming Leech, so thank you for coming."
Maintaining his calm manner, Kang Woojin answered modestly.
"No, it's nothing."
"It isn't 100% complete yet, but it'll still be worth seeing. We really poured in a lot of effort. After seeing how confident you were at the press conference, I couldn't let my guard down."
Outwardly calm, Woojin was thinking deeply inside.
'The great director really holds a grudge.'
He replied solemnly.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way."
"No, no. There's nothing to apologize for. Because of that declaration, I feel like I poured in all my passion and sincerity for the first time in a while."
Right at that moment—
"Hello—"
A lively, cheerful voice joined in.
The one who entered the studio was Jeon Woochang, one of the lead actors of Island of the Missing and a muscular top actor. But he wasn't alone.
Kim Iwon, the top actress, was with him.
"Director, it's been a while."
"Oh my, Woochang, Iwon, you're here."
After giving Director Kwon Gitaek a deep greeting, the two actors came straight over to Kang Woojin.
"No way! The star of the universe got here first?! That's actually surprising! Kangseong, how have you been?"
"Whew, Woochang, lower your voice. I've seen so many articles about Woojin that it doesn't even feel like much time has passed."
"Hello."
With Director Kwon Gitaek, Kang Woojin, and the two actors now gathered, the production team grew, and the studio with the screen gradually became more crowded.
And then the atmosphere rose even further.
"Hey, Woochang, do you realize your voice is echoing all the way through the hallway?"
It was Ha Yura, whose hair had grown a little longer from her short cut. She entered with a slightly cool tone, though her eyes were smiling.
Exactly three minutes later, Ryu Jungmin, his hair still short, came in behind her. He had recently transferred to BW Entertainment.
Before long, the main cast of Island of the Missing had all gathered.
Not every actor had arrived yet.
A few supporting actors still had to come, but Director Kwon Gitaek looked at Kang Woojin and the rest of the cast with satisfaction.
──────────
He sat down first in a chair before the screen and spoke warmly.
"Everyone, settle down and have a seat for a moment. A screening should be at least somewhat solemn."
And with that—
Island of the Missing was complete.