The camera shifted from Kiyoshi's blank profile to a direct frontal shot.
"..."
Kang Woojin, or rather Kiyoshi, quietly looked down at the corpse and pulled something from his pocket.
Recorders.
Not just one, but several.
Woojin stared at them for a moment.
There was no expression on his face, but his eyes trembled.
Something rippled through Kang Woojin, who had already sunk completely into 'Iiyota Kiyoshi.' What was it? He did not know. It was hard to put into words. Woojin slowly raised his head and looked up at the sky.
Stars glittered across the pitch-black night.
Normally, it would have been nothing more than an ordinary sight.
Tonight should have been the same.
So why did it look so bright?
Woojin forced himself to ignore the emotion rising inside his chest. He could hide it. It was only a very small feeling. He lowered his head again, and his indifferent lips moved slightly.
"It feels strange."
The light in his eyes slowly dried up.
He was deliberately erasing his emotions. The faint resonance that had filled him just moments ago gradually faded away, and the camera caught every bit of it with perfect clarity. How could something like that even be possible?
The staff around Director Kyotaro covered their mouths or widened their eyes, but not a single one of them spoke.
"..."
"..."
No, it was impossible not to react. They were completely captivated by the depth of his expression. Was it acting? Yes, it was acting. But there was something in this actor's performance that felt more intense and more delicate than anything else. He knew exactly how to use every part of his body.
—Clatter.
Kang Woojin scattered the recorders in his hand over the now-cold body of 'Tsuzuki Itsuma.'
No, over the corpse.
The recorders struck the corpse's head, hit its stomach, and bounced across its thighs.
Of course, Kiyoshi had not killed him directly this time either.
He had taken his own life.
Kiyoshi had only driven him there from just behind his back. He had moved Tsuzuki Itsuma, sent away Horinochi Amie, the karaoke bar owner, and Iiya Saki. During all of that, Kiyoshi had quietly gathered evidence. Photos from the murder scenes. Recorders. If he handed those over to the police, it would be enough to brand him a murderer.
That was how Kiyoshi cornered Itsuma Tsuzuki.
All those murders you thought were perfect are in my hands now. Unfortunately, I do not like you. Itsuma, I will give you time to collect yourself. Three days. After that, I will hand this evidence to the police. Finish it neatly.
Kiyoshi's voice had been colder than ice.
Itsuma Tsuzuki had been driven to the edge of the cliff.
Three days remained. With every passing moment, with every passing second, the pressure grew heavier.
It was not guilt over murder. It was not fear of punishment. It was the trap of greed. One of the 'task targets,' Itsuma came from the family of a mid-sized company president. If things continued like this, his future would shine brightly. But the more someone possessed, the greater the shock of losing it all.
The wealth, reputation, power, honor, and connections he had built up until now.
Everything that had once been brilliant would turn to ashes in an instant. Kiyoshi had advised Itsuma Tsuzuki to surrender. Surrender? Rather than lose everything, Itsuma believed it was better to throw away his life. Protecting the dazzling future he had always dreamed of felt like the right choice to him.
To him, that future was an ordinary life.
An ordinary daily life.
The dignity of the ordinary is only understood after it is lost. Driven by Kiyoshi's persistent urging, Itsuma eventually swallowed pills on the rooftop of the company that should have become his one day.
And those pills stole his life in an instant.
Kang Woojin.
No, Kiyoshi.
—Thud.
Still expressionless as he looked down at the corpse, he reached into his pocket again. The camera followed his hand. Kiyoshi pulled out a single sheet of old, folded paper. Several names were written there, starting with Kinjo.
Every one of them was a task.
And the last one—
'Itsuma Tsuzuki.'
The name of the corpse lying in front of him.
"I wonder if she's watching."
Woojin muttered softly as he crumpled the old paper. Then he put it straight into his mouth and swallowed it.
It was exactly the kind of act that suited Iiyota Kiyoshi.
Let us observe a moment of silence.
"Cut!"
At Director Kyotaro's signal, they changed the angle and filmed a few reaction shots. After about three retakes, the scene was finished, but there were still more scenes left to shoot.
Especially this one.
"Ah, is this that scene?"
"That's right. The scene where Iiyota Kiyoshi's first real emotional expression stands out."
"This one's difficult."
The next scene would not be easy to act. Maybe that was why the expectations of the dozens of staff members only kept rising. Director Kyotaro, standing in front of the monitor, felt the same way.
'This cut matters.'
There were many important scenes in The Stranger's Grim Sacrifice, but this one stood at the very top.
'This scene has to shine if we want to multiply the shock of the changed ending.'
But Director Kyotaro did not move.
"..."
He did not even approach Kang Woojin, who was having his makeup touched up on set. He had no intention of directing him. He was certain that the actor called Woojin would create a scene beyond anything he had imagined.
Meanwhile, Kang Woojin—
'Ugh.'
Outwardly, he stayed stiff and composed, but inside he could feel himself trembling a little.
'I've never done acting like this before, have I? No… I really haven't. Never once.'
He already possessed the entirety of Iiyota Kiyoshi's life, but performing something like this in reality was a first for him. Even so, he had to stay calm. The strange trembling would not go away, but he forced it down. Woojin felt slightly relieved that fewer eyes were on him now.
Then—
"Done!!"
The makeup touch-up was finished.
A little later, the staff stepped back. The camera turned toward Kang Woojin. Director Kyotaro raised the megaphone. The slate snapped.
"Ready—action."
At once, Kang Woojin called back the Kiyoshi he had briefly set aside. His vision changed in an instant. The cameras, the lights, the equipment that had filled his sight all disappeared. It was no longer a film set.
To Woojin, it was simply the terminal station.
Late at night, the world was still.
There was no one around.
A corpse lay at his feet, but it was already dead, so it was no longer a person.
"...This is a little boring."
He had already swallowed the paper labeled 'task.' Without any expression at all, Woojin touched his throat. It felt rough.
"Was swallowing up that crumpled paper a bit too much?"
He muttered to himself and scratched his head for no reason. Then he looked around for no reason at all, and his eyes returned to the corpse.
Someone had died.
But Kang Woojin, or Kiyoshi, was dry.
Emotion? Feeling? No, even the concept itself had dried up. His consciousness was like a piece of dead firewood.
Every small movement he made.
His gaze.
Even the sound of his breathing.
'He looks too pure. Too clear.'
That was what Director Kyotaro saw as he watched the monitor. To him, Woojin looked like a child. In fact, maybe he truly was a child. Something clumsy had begun to spread through Woojin's body.
The camera moved to face him directly.
Woojin turned his body. He hesitated for a moment, then looked back at the corpse. He stared at it for a long time.
'It's meaningless. Let's go.'
He tried to move forward, but his feet stopped again.
Suddenly, he could not take another step.
At that moment, something like a waterfall of heat burst out from inside Kang Woojin. It was neither cold nor hot, only lukewarm, but even so, it made his breathing falter. He began breathing through his nose instead of his mouth.
"Hh—"
His face still showed no expression.
But the eyes looking down at the corpse had softened. A faint emotion surfaced there. His feelings had become visible.
"This isn't good."
A quiet sorrow.
For the first time, Kiyoshi, who had never wavered no matter what happened, and Kang Woojin, who had completed every task, revealed emotion.
The camera captured it vividly.
Why?
Why was this happening?
Why could he not move his feet?
Kang Woojin suddenly raised a hand and wiped his face. The lukewarm emotions slowly began to turn hot. Yes, his feelings were surging. They were echoing somewhere deep inside him.
It's over. This is the end.
Yes, it was over. There were no more targets left to erase. And Iiyota Kiyoshi no longer existed either. With this, the 'task' had ended.
And Kiyoshi's existence had reached its end as well.
"Haa, heh!"
Kiyoshi, or Kang Woojin, had begun to shake violently through the shoulders. Something damp seeped through the fingers covering his face.
The tears of a child.
The reason he could not leave this place was not because the corpse kept catching his eye. He was afraid. Afraid that if he walked away from here, the meaning of his existence would be erased from the world, that his very being would disappear, and that in some unknown world where nothing remained, he would become invisible like a transparent man no one could see.
Emptiness?
No.
"Kh, heh! Khk—"
If anything, Kiyoshi's heart was overflowing.
He had lived. He had come this far and reached this moment. He was satisfied. Now, the only thing left was to finish it properly.
Then what came next?
For years, he had lived quietly in order to become a 'stranger.' And he had acted the part. But now tears began to spill out.
They were not tears of sorrow.
"Kuhup!"
It was pity.
Pity for himself.
Or pity for her.
It was anger.
Resentment toward a world that had been utterly useless until it had driven him this far.
It was regret.
Regret that the meaning of his existence had ended over something so trivial.
—Sss.
Kang Woojin, his shoulders still shaking, bent forward. His face was slightly flushed, and tears had pooled around his eyes. He released the buckle his hand had been gripping so tightly.
Something enormous pushed its way out of his heart.
"Kuhuk! Kuhuk! Huhuhub!"
In an instant, Woojin's face twisted apart. It looked as though he were wailing. Tears streamed from his eyes, his nose, and his mouth, but he forced himself to hold the sound back.
If there was such a thing as a dried-up cry, this would be it.
Kang Woojin's restrained, suppressed sobs seeped into the ears of the dozens of staff members. They filled their eyes. They brushed against their skin.
'A cry without sorrow… that's possible.'
"He's crying so quietly, and yet it moves people. I can't even tell what kind of emotion this is."
'It feels like a tribute to a forgotten life. He really is an incredible actor… who else could express emotion like that?'
Soon, hoarse sounds began leaking from Woojin's throat. Snot ran from his nose, and spit clung to his chin. If he had been crying out loudly, people might have wanted to comfort him. But this dry, soundless crying only made it harder for those watching to bear.
'There's nothing I can do. All I can do is watch.'
It had the power to leave people helpless.
Until now, life for Iiyota Kiyoshi had been like a coin fallen on the ground. Like dust that got in the eye. Like a sip of water taken only to ease thirst. Like the careless stretch of a body after waking.
It had been a life of almost no value.
And now, even that was coming to an end.
Kang Woojin's sobbing and tears were the scream that came from realizing the meaning of his own existence was worth less than a single grain of millet. It was a lament. It was pity for something whose meaning could not be left behind here. In the end, it was pity for his own empty shell, pity that kept him from stepping past the final stop.
"Kuhuhup— kuhuk!"
The strength left his legs.
Still gasping and sobbing, Woojin dropped to his knees. He buried his head against the ground. One hand touched the earth, trembling slightly. His choked crying continued. The camera caught both the shaking Kang Woojin and the corpse beside him.
It looked like a bow before death.
No.
This scene was an expression of respect and mourning for the meaning he was leaving behind, and it was also the first time Kiyoshi had outwardly revealed a matured emotion. The meaning of such a trivial existence might have been small, but it had given him the strength to keep living, and it had allowed him to return to the starting point.
There were two meanings in that image.
At the end of his revenge, the meaning of his existence was painfully small and insignificant, but that revenge had not been entirely futile or meaningless.
And here, Kiyoshi had achieved emotional growth.
It was like the first sprout of hope.
The beginning of a new life.
Preparation to return to an ordinary, everyday life.
Kang Woojin's soundless sobbing slowly subsided, but the heated attention of the dozens of staff members watching him never cooled.
What this actor was trying to express was far too vast.
"..."
"..."
"..."
All they could do was feel it.
Now it was Director Kyotaro's turn.
Five seconds.
Ten seconds.
Fifteen seconds.
The scene had reached its end.
He should have called it by now, but he could not bring himself to speak and break this astonishing sight.
'Just a little longer. Just a little longer.'
Director Kyotaro wanted to hold onto the intensity of that silence for a few seconds more. The scene Kang Woojin was performing now was breathing life into the changed ending of The Stranger's Grim Sacrifice. Before seeing the ending itself, the audience had to witness this scene first if they were to understand the last gaze of 'Iiyota Kiyoshi.'
The new beginning of a 'stranger' blending in among countless other people.
At last—
"Very good!!"
Director Kyotaro shot to his feet and even tore off his cap as he shouted. At once, the dozens of staff around him sucked in a breath. Half of them even started clapping.
Clap clap clap clap clap clap!
The applause was directed toward Kang Woojin, who was still collapsed on the ground. It was the highest praise they could offer for the astonishing performance he had just shown them. Words were not enough, so all they could do was clap.
But for some reason, Kang Woojin still did not move.
He remained on his knees, bent forward.
He had stopped in the middle of acting.
There was no sobbing now. Not even that rough, silent crying could be heard. Woojin simply lay there quietly. One of the Japanese actors who had risen first looked down at him and frowned.
"Well… he just gave everything in that performance. There's no way the emotional aftereffect would disappear right away. No matter how much of a monster actor Woojin is, it can't be easy to come out of that instantly. That acting just now was really… incredible."
The staff watching felt the same.
"He must be gathering himself."
"I completely understand. If he got up right away after acting like that… he'd practically be a god."
"That desperate crying will probably be talked about in Japanese acting history for a long time. It would be better to let him rest."
"Trying to pull him up right now would only get in the way. The only one who can sort out emotions that intense is himself."
Director Kyotaro, who had been watching Kang Woojin lying there without moving at all, also stopped where he was.
"…That's right. After pouring out that much emotion, an ordinary actor would have gone mad. He'll need some time to recover."
And Kang Woojin, still lying there, was thinking something else entirely.
'Damn, there's so much spit and snot. Wipe it, wipe it. I've got to keep the concept going.'
He was only wiping his runny nose.