Vrrrrr.
The cara starts rolling.
The world seen through the lens is completely severed from reality—an entirely different dinsion.
"Ready!"
Unreality begins.
"Action!"
The hero walks away from the scene of a brutal battle in a warehouse.
Ji Hyuntae dials the police from his phone before leaving the premises with a calm deanor.
By the ti the authorities arrive, it’s already too late.
"Damn it."
Choi Yongsoo, played by Han Taegun, surveys the cri scene, furrowing his brows.
"...How many people did he kill?"
The air reeks of iron—not just any tal, but the unmistakable scent of blood.
Squish, squelch.
With each step, blood sticks to his shoes, clinging like glue.
"He beat them all to death."
The low temperature of the warehouse has preserved the scene in chilling detail.
The perpetrator’s handiwork is imdiately apparent.
Blunt force trauma, like the aftermath of a sledgehamr.
Bodies twisted, bones crushed, limbs unnaturally bent—
as if a giant had clenched them in his fist and then let go.
"It’s him."
"Him? That violent psycho?"
"Yeah, just look at these knuckle marks."
The imprint is undeniable.
To deliver punches this devastating—to pulverize bodies like this—
this wasn’t the work of an ordinary man.
"There are at least twenty of them, and he took them down in under thirty minutes."
The more they analyze the scene, the clearer the perpetrator’s skills beco.
"He even took down guys with guns?"
"Guns?"
"Yeah, look closely. You see the bullet marks?"
Judging by the caliber, it was a handgun.
But—
"There are bullet holes, but no gun."
"He took it?"
"Yeah. One gun vanished from the scene... and we still don’t have the bastard."
Once again, they were left cleaning up the ss.
Catching a criminal is never straightforward.
Investigations take ti.
Every step must follow legal protocol to avoid future complications.
Naturally, this process slows things down.
Tch.
Choi Yongsoo scowled.
That’s why the bastard took matters into his own hands.
He had always been like that.
"Still, if you count up all the criminals he’s taken down, it’s over ten."
Hearing this nonsense from a junior officer was infuriating.
Choi Yongsoo couldn’t let it slide.
"So what?"
"Huh?"
"So what do you want to do? Give him a dal? Na him a model citizen?"
People were making a mistake.
Killing criminals didn’t an he wasn’t a murderer.
Judgnt wasn’t sothing an individual could just take upon themselves.
"He’s undermining the legal system. You think vigilantism is justified?"
And yet, this fool of a cop was practically defending him.
How could that not piss him off?
"I-I didn’t an it like that..."
"The hell you didn’t. You read the articles, didn’t you? ‘Justice faster than the sluggish police’—that kind of bullshit. And you just accepted that?"
"S-Sorry."
"Don’t just sit there nodding along to that crap. He’s a criminal who’s been slaughtering other criminals. You really think that makes him a hero?"
The dia had already labeled him a savior.
Twenty confird kills.
A body count that would go down in Korean history as one of the worst serial killers—
yet the press glorified him.
They called him the true executioner.
Victims’ families even thanked him.
"Just because people are clapping doesn’t an he’s so righteous hero."
In eight years on the force, this was the first ti Choi Yongsoo felt truly conflicted.
Screeech.
The forensics team finally arrived, parroting exactly what he had said monts earlier.
Bullet marks, a missing gun, bodies crushed beyond recognition, and so on.
And, as always, their conclusion was the sa.
"It’ll take ti to analyze the evidence."
"You said the sa thing last ti. When the hell is that going to be finished?"
"Well... he’s just really good at covering his tracks. All we’ve got is that—uh—his fists are heavily calloused—"
"I could’ve told you that."
"Other than that... there’s nothing."
Choi Yongsoo chuckled.
What a ridiculous bastard.
He tracks down criminals with inhuman precision.
He wipes them out.
And he leaves behind no evidence.
How? That’s what intrigued him.
"Even the most ticulous criminals leave so kind of trail."
"But he’s focused purely on killing them. That’s all he cares about—so there’s nothing else to find."
"...Yeah."
The forensics team looked down in defeat.
He wanted to see this bastard face justice, to remind him that the law wasn’t a joke.
But that wasn’t happening anyti soon.
Another dead end.
There was nothing more to do.
Soon, the press would show up.
He’d give the sa tired responses.
And then, by the ti it all settled, he’d probably be smoking a cigarette by the waste bins.
With that in mind—
"I’m leaving."
Dumping the grunt work on his junior, Choi Yongsoo walked away from the scene.
Stopping by a convenience store, he picked up a cup of coffee and a pack of instant noodles to settle his hunger.
"Hm?"
Just outside, at one of the plastic tables, soone was already sitting there.
A young man, casually eating two rice balls.
There was still plenty of room.
"Mind if I sit here?"
"Huh?"
The man looked up.
He was ridiculously handso.
The kind of face that could easily belong to a celebrity.
"There aren’t any other seats."
"Oh, sure. Go ahead."
Good-looking and easygoing.
Choi Yongsoo sat across from him, blowing on his steaming noodles.
At the sa ti—
Why the hell is he here?
Choi Yongsoo’s instincts told him the young man was suspicious.
Near the warehouse where human traffickers had been operating.
In this industrial complex, what reason would a man like him have to be at a convenience store?
It’s already the afternoon.
As far as he knew, there weren’t many part-ti job opportunities around here.
There were even fewer places to hang out.
A local? That didn’t seem likely either—his outfit was too casual.
So Choi Yongsoo decided to test him.
"Not much to do around here. You ca from pretty far away, huh?"
"Huh?"
"Nothing, just making conversation while I eat. Am I bothering you?"
"Yes."
"...."
Imdiate failure.
Kids these days.
Back in his day, when an adult spoke, you just nodded and listened.
This guy, on the other hand, was openly showing he had no interest in talking.
Still, Choi Yongsoo wasn’t about to give up.
"There was a major incident nearby. I’m a detective."
"Oh, okay."
Completely indifferent.
The young man responded with a relaxed expression, seemingly unbothered.
"Dozens of people died in a warehouse nearby."
"Ah... I see. That explains the commotion."
He knew there was commotion?
That ant he had been here for a while.
But why?
Am I just forcing a narrative because I think this guy is the culprit?
Detective’s intuition—was that just sothing from comics and movies?
With that thought lingering, he continued.
"They say the victims were human traffickers—"
"Not interested."
The young man didn’t even flinch.
He just popped the last of his rice balls into his mouth and stood up.
And then—
Thud.
"Hey. Who the hell are you?"
Choi Yongsoo instinctively grabbed his wrist.
This wasn’t the hand of an average person.
Calloused knuckles, thick skin hardened from years of impact.
Scarred from repeated abrasions—
the unmistakable marks of soone who had worn knuckles for a long ti.
In that mont, he knew.
He had to catch him.
But—
"What exactly do you think you’re doing?"
Flick.
His wrist slipped free effortlessly.
"...."
"Is that what detectives do? Grab random civilians and intimidate them?"
He wasn’t wrong.
"I-I didn’t an—"
His mind finally caught up to the situation.
"So if you just grab anyone and yell, ‘Hey, it’s you,’ that makes them a criminal?"
"S-Sorry. I just—"
"Always late, but you’re quick to pin things on the wrong people, huh?"
It was an angry retort, but it felt different sohow.
Their gazes locked.
There was no doubt.
This man was him.
But knowing it wasn’t enough.
Detectives had rules to follow.
At that mont—
when the hero and the detective’s eyes intertwined in a twisted standoff—
"Cut!"
The illusion of reality shattered as the cara stopped rolling.
"Wow, that was incredible! The imrsion—just wow!"
And as if on cue, Director Lee Seong-deok erupted into praise.
Even with the long-take filming technique, not a single awkward mont.
How could he describe it?
Korean noir?
A Korean John Wick?
That was the vibe the scene radiated.
"The editing’s practically done already! Just so slight color correction, and we could use this right away!"
"There you go again. You’re just gonna ask for a reshoot, aren’t you?"
"Ah... well, you know . Hard not to get greedy when it’s this good."
Han Taegun turned to glance at Kim Donghu.
He’s really good.
He had already praised him multiple tis, but it still didn’t feel like enough.
It felt like I was staring down an actual killer.
The scariest thing about Kim Donghu was how he dragged his co-stars into his performance.
It was like being devoured.
He turned the actors around him into set pieces—
re tools to highlight his performance.
And the only way to survive was—
Struggle like hell, act your heart out, and hold your ground.
Did he manage to survive this ti?
Han Taegun genuinely wanted to ask.
To gauge where he stood.
At the sa ti, he felt a bit envious of Seo Jinwoo.
He’s in the sa agency as Donghu... Donghu watches his performances, gives him acting tips.
The guy never shut up about it.
Honestly, it was kind of annoying.
Maybe I should just join Veritas too.
His contract was ending soon anyway.
As for his long-ti manager?
He could just bring him along.
"Donghu, Veritas has plenty of money for actor contracts, right?"
"Huh?"
"Just don’t treat like a nobody if I end up there."
With a joking remark laced with sincerity,
Han Taegun and Kim Donghu headed toward the monitors.
If they had to reshoot, they needed to discuss what to improve.
Late April – Nearing the End of True Hero’s Filming
"Donghu, when are we ever gonna get a real break?"
"Hyung, judging by your outfit, you already ca here to take a break."
Seokho, Mijoo, and I had arrived in Japan.
Three things were on the agenda:
1. Louis Vuitton lookbook photoshoot
2. Shooting for Shall We Get Married?
3. Figuring out what the hell Kan Rider is all about
It was going to be a busy schedule.
And as a bonus—
[Senior, you’re in Japan, right?!]
Chisako had already reached out.
Reviews
All reviews (0)