I Was Mistaken as a Monstrous Genius Actor Chapter 464

Chapter 464: Prologue (7)

Translator:

"I ca to watch *Piero*, and the cinema is packed! They said the advanced screenings were sold out for over a week, and it looks like all those people are here!"

"Was that movie’s early release today? Why would anyone even bother watching it? You'll regret it."

"Movies with tons of hype and mystery usually disappoint once you watch them, so I’m planning to skip it."

"Why would anyone waste money on a movie like that?"

"I want to hate on Kang Woo-jin, but I'd rather see it myself and then criticize him."

"He stole Miley from . I’ll curse him forever."

"Even if the movie's good, the chances of Kang Woo-jin holding an Academy trophy are slim. His reputation is already ruined—do you think the judges will look at him favorably?"

"I respect Columbia's ambition, but the results? Unless this is truly groundbreaking, the Academy will hold its pride."

"Would global Academy mbers appreciate Kang Woo-jin's performance? He’ll probably just end up being a laughingstock."

An hour before *Piero*'s premiere, this was the scene on "Needit," the world’s largest online community. The forum was ablaze, not due to any intentional leak, but because of unfiltered chatter, with Kang Woo-jin and *Piero: Birth of a Villain* at the center of it. Just a week earlier, there had been pockets of support for both the movie and Woo-jin, but in recent days, negativity had dominated.

The rumors about Kang Woo-jin and Miley Cara dating only intensified the backlash.

"How focused could he be on acting when he’s busy dating Miley Cara?"

"Honestly, Chris Hartnett will probably outshine Kang Woo-jin."

Though so comnts were just mindless rants, others critiqued Woo-jin with a cold, seemingly objective view. Yet, no matter the angle, the consensus on forums, social dia, and YouTube remained the sa:

*Piero: Birth of a Villain* wasn’t getting anywhere near an Academy Award.

Whether it was Columbia Studio's ambition for their cinematic universe or Woo-jin's Oscar dreams, people were certain of one thing:

“If *Piero* doesn’t get an Oscar nomination, nothing will co of it.”

Unless the Academy granted *Piero* an official nod, everything so far would be aningless. Yet, the negativity was more than just public sentint.

Hollywood insiders shared the sa sentint.

Many directors, actors, and other figures across Hollywood’s sprawling landscape focused on *Piero*'s early release and zeroed in on Kang Woo-jin. While there were so who openly acknowledged his extraordinary achievents, others dismissed him outright.

Because he was unsettling in his unfamiliarity.

Because they feared change.

Because they needed to cling to their deep-rooted beliefs to avoid admitting their own insecurities.

Hollywood was as vast and aged as it was traditional. For all its outward individuality and free spirit, there were those parts deeply rooted in stubborn tradition. In such a place filled with countless established figures, Kang Woo-jin was a sort of anomaly.

An anomaly who, without precedent, achieved things effortlessly that no one else had dared.

It was only natural for people to hate him.

"So, today's the first day of *Piero*’s advanced screenings, huh? No wonder the headlines are all about it. How do you think it’ll go?"

"When expectations are this high, it’s tough to satisfy them. Most people here aren’t Woo-jin fans—they’re here to see if he’ll fail."

"Right? Harsh reviews are bound to outnumber the good ones. He made too much noise in too little ti."

"Maybe if he had taken a break after that Emmy miracle, things would’ve been smoother."

This unexpected “mutation” that landed in Hollywood didn’t give the established residents ti to adjust, and they weren’t fond of a “mutant” making miraculous waves.

No, they claid they hated this mutant, but, in reality, they feared him.

They feared that a deeply ingrained tradition, an entire system, might be disrupted, potentially threatening their own standing. So people, like Miley Cara, recognized this.

"Hollywood doesn’t seem too pleased about *Piero*."

"They’re scared. Kang Woo-jin is sothing they’ve never seen before. Honest criticism? Please. They’re trembling with fear. But it won’t matter to Woo-jin. No matter who points fingers or if the whole world criticizes him, he won’t stop. He’ll carry on without flinching."

No matter how much the dia or public rambled on, ti ticked on, and with just thirty minutes remaining until *Piero: Birth of a Villain*'s first screening, the scene outside a multiplex in downtown LA was sothing to behold.

“We’re standing here in front of the theater, where the only film showing today is *Piero: Birth of a Villain*. As you can see, the place is packed with moviegoers.”

Several vans with news logos crowded the street, each bustling with reporters eager to capture the scene. At least five news teams were filming the situation, and dozens of journalists snapped shots of the huge crowd and the towering posters of Kang Woo-jin in front of the cinema.

So of the foreign moviegoers couldn’t help but marvel at the scene.

“Wow, I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Right? It’s just an advanced screening, yet there are news teams here?”

“Maybe it’s because it’s not a normal situation? *Piero* has sparked a lot of attention.”

They were right. *Piero: Birth of a Villain* was a goldmine of buzz and headlines, but what intrigued the dia even more was—

“Kang Woo-jin’s influence is massive.”

“It’s impressive, whether positive or negative—he’s drawn in a crowd like this and attracted so much dia attention.”

“Even Hollywood’s top stars would struggle to pull this off.”

In the largest screening hall inside the theater, which could hold over 400 people, foreign audiences began filing in, carrying popcorn and drinks, chatting as they found their seats.

The crowd's reasons for coming varied widely.

"Finally, I get to watch this movie! I’ve been looking forward to it forever!"

"Is it really that good? I’m not a huge fan of Kang Woo-jin."

"What are you talking about? He’s a phenonal actor! I’ve seen most of his work—each one gave chills. *Beneficial Evil* was incredible."

There were real fans of Kang Woo-jin, but there were also those who ca just to see what the fuss was about.

"I saw that too, but it’s hard to imagine how he’ll pull off this character. The trailer was so intense that so say the movie itself might feel underwhelming."

"Don’t worry; it’ll be great! Did you keep your ticket? It’s a collector’s item—the early screening is a whole different experience from the regular release!"

And there were those who ca with skepticism or even to criticize him.

"Let’s see if this film lives up to the hype."

"Right, it can’t just be decent. For Kang Woo-jin to even get an Academy nomination, this movie has to be spectacular."

"Hah, impossible."

"Looking around, seems like there are plenty of people here with the sa thoughts."

"Kang Woo-jin really went overboard this ti."

In reality, over half of the 400-plus audience mbers were either openly critical or at least doubtful about Woo-jin. But the seats continued to fill.

Among them were several Koreans.

“Wow, this huge theater is completely packed? That’s insane.”

Hong Hye-yeon, Ryu Jung-min, and Director Kwon Ki-taek had already found their seats.

“Well, it’s been sold out for over a week, and today’s the very first advanced screening. Everyone must have shown up.”

“It’s beyond impressive, right, Oppa? I saw tons of reporters outside too. Woo-jin’s a total sensation here in Hollywood.”

“It’s only natural; he’s already an Emmy-winning actor. He’s a global star now.”

“I know, Director. It’s just surreal seeing it in person after only reading about it. Should we go greet Mr. Shim Han-ho over there?”

“After the movie. It’s too crowded now.”

Seated a little apart from them was Shim Han-ho, a veteran actor, along with the family of “The Leech.” Given that Director Ahn Ga-bok held *Piero*, many Korean faces dotted the hundreds of seats, including employees from BW Entertainnt and even regular viewers.

And, of course, Kang Woo-jin’s family was there too, with his father, Kang Woo-chul, his mother, Seo Hyun-mi, and his younger sister, Kang Hyun-ah, visibly excited.

“Even though I’m looking right at it, it’s hard to believe—all these people and seeing Woo-jin on that huge screen.”

“Hyun-mi, savor this mont. Pull yourself together.”

“You’re the one who needs to stop bouncing your leg.”

“How can I stop when I’m this nervous?”

“Dad, Mom! Did you see Ryu Jung-min and Hong Hye-yeon over there?”

“Yes, honey, and Mr. Shim Han-ho is here too.”

“No way!!”

It was their first ti in Hollywood to witness their son’s success firsthand. Words couldn’t capture their awe. Thankfully, they couldn’t understand the English criticisms around them.

Then, suddenly—

The once bright lights of the theater dimd, eventually plunging the room into darkness. The lively chatter hushed, leaving only the faint crunch of popcorn as everyone turned toward the giant screen.

The screen remained pitch black.

But then, an image flickered to life, and sound filled the room. The snap of a lighter,

the hiss as a cigarette was lit. Several logos flashed on the screen, the last being the globally recognized "Columbia Studios" logo.

And then—

*“Hooo—”*

The sound of soone exhaling cigarette smoke. And there he was—Chris Hartnett, playing Robert Franklin, a reporter, seated in a diner.

The cara lingered on a red-haired figure from behind, then switched to show Franklin’s face as he exhaled a plu of smoke. Suddenly, a loud, disturbing laugh echoed through the theater.

*“Hehehe! Hahaha, hahahaha!”*

As the laughter grew, classical music played softly in the background, and the scene switched to show the man fully.

A man with red hair, a pale face, and a wide, slashed grin smoking a cigarette.

*“Hihihi, hahaha…”*

It was the Joker. No, it was Kang Woo-jin.

“Whoa—”

“!!!”

“…”

The foreign audience mbers couldn’t help but let out gasps, but the film didn’t stop, and Woo-jin’s laugh grew more intense. The first line ca from the reporter, Robert Franklin.

*“Uh, why are you laughing all of a sudden?”*

The angle switched back to the Joker, who took a long drag from his cigarette before exhaling, running his fingers through his red hair. By now, the entire audience was captivated by the horrific expression on Woo-jin’s face, his gaze as haunting as it was srizing.

*“Heheh, oh, sorry, my friend. This song brings back mories. It just hit all of a sudden.”*

As Woo-jin’s line ended, the classical music swelled.

The screen zood in on the Joker’s face—colorful and vivid. But then, in an instant, the screen turned monochro, and the music reached a fever pitch. In black and white, Henry Gordon stared into a cracked mirror, his reflection gazing back at him.

For a mont, it seed as if Henry Gordon was staring directly at the audience.

The mirror acted as a lens, showing the Joker as he painted a grin onto his face. His lips twitched—a grimace, a sneer, an unplaceable emotion. The intensity of the scene washed over the audience, holding them in an unrelenting grip.

Then, a single tear slid down from the corner of one eye.

In that mont, not a single person in the audience dared to breathe.