Chapter 40: The Owner of the Voice
Tuesday morning, December 29.
Seo Jiwan leaned back against the sofa in his agency's meeting room.
The Final Witness was in his hands.
After turning the final page, he closed the screenplay.
His manager, sitting across from him, immediately asked,
"How was it?"
Seo Jiwan didn't answer right away.
He looked down at the script once more.
The story itself wasn't especially new.
A missing witness had to be found.
During the attempt to bring the witness to court, the protagonist discovered betrayal within the prosecution.
A chase followed.
In the second half, the protagonist went against the entire organization he belonged to.
The story moved quickly.
There was a lot of action.
Most importantly, the protagonist never stopped moving.
"It's entertaining."
Seo Jiwan tapped the cover with one finger.
"Not unbelievably good or anything."
He smiled.
"But I like the character."
The manager had already read it.
"The prosecutor?"
"Yeah."
Almost every event from beginning to end was driven by the protagonist.
He chased the witness.
Rejected orders from his own organization.
Hunted down the traitor.
Even most of the action scenes in the second half belonged to him.
Seo Jiwan grinned.
"I think it'd suit me."
"I thought so too. You'd look really cool in the role."
"Right? That's why I like it."
The manager slid a sheet containing appearance conditions across the table.
"Then you'll probably like this too."
Seo Jiwan picked it up.
A moment later, his eyebrows rose.
"Huh?"
He checked the number again.
"Is this right?"
It was the highest fee he'd ever been offered for a film.
The manager said,
"Looks like Director Moon's side really wants to secure you."
Seo Jiwan smiled.
"Yeah."
"I like it even more now."
He liked the character.
The fee was excellent.
Being the comeback project of Moon Taeseok, one of Korea's master directors, wasn't bad either.
And compared with Low Ceiling, the shoot looked much easier.
He remembered spending all day running around mine sets covered in dust.
Inside the collapsed-tunnel set, he had repeated the same motions again and again.
Every time he returned to his accommodations after filming and blew his nose, black dust came out.
Compared with that, The Final Witness was mostly a modern-day film.
"Shooting looks easier too. That's another point in its favor."
The manager laughed.
"There's a lot of action."
"Still better than running through a mine."
Seo Jiwan placed the script on the table.
Beside it was the unopened screenplay for The Night the King Died.
The manager pointed at it.
"You should read that one too."
Seo Jiwan checked his watch.
"Later."
"I have plans."
"Drinking again today?"
"I might have a little if lunch is good."
"Be careful."
"Come on. I'll handle myself."
He picked up The Night the King Died and put it into his bag.
His phone rang.
A friend had messaged him.
"I'm heading out."
Seo Jiwan put on his coat and left the room.
That same afternoon.
Geonwoo sat at the desk in his small apartment, staring at his laptop.
Several phrases had been written down from old memories.
Moon Taeseok.
The Silent Verdict.
Actor test.
Reading.
Geonwoo stopped at the final word.
Some memories from his previous life were sharp.
Others were blurred.
He remembered why he'd gone to that place that day.
Moon Taeseok had told him to urgently bring over revised scenes.
Geonwoo had spent the entire night rewriting them.
Then he printed the script and went to the place where casting was being held.
He was told to wait outside the room.
Inside, actors repeatedly performed the same scene.
That was when he'd heard the unfamiliar man's voice.
At first, Geonwoo assumed it belonged to one of the applicants.
But when the next actor entered, the same voice came again.
Then again with the actor after that.
He was the person reading the opposite character's lines for every applicant.
The same lines sounded slightly different each time.
When the applicant pushed aggressively, his voice responded with equal force.
When the applicant suppressed their emotion, his own voice lowered as well.
If someone briefly forgot a line, he waited and naturally picked the scene up again.
That was all Geonwoo remembered.
He never saw the man's face.
He never learned his name.
The man's name wasn't on the audition-result sheet either.
Of course it wasn't.
He hadn't been auditioning.
Geonwoo leaned back in his chair.
"He was definitely a reading actor."
He muttered softly.
Another memory followed.
The company that had managed the casting that day.
Geonwoo had visited it several more times in his previous life.
Not only for Moon Taeseok's works but for other films too.
He pulled the laptop closer.
He typed the company name into the search bar.
Its website appeared.
It was still operating.
Geonwoo checked the main phone number and picked up his phone.
After several connections, an employee answered.
"Hello. My name is Baek Geonwoo."
"Are you Director Baek Geonwoo of Before the Light Reaches?"
"Yes."
The employee's voice changed slightly.
"Hello, Director. How can I help you?"
"I'm trying to find an actor."
"One moment. I'll connect you to the person in charge."
One hour later.
Geonwoo sat in a small meeting room at the casting company.
The casting manager across from him opened a laptop.
"You said this is for casting your next project?"
"Yes."
"What kind of actor are you looking for?"
"A male actor."
The manager prepared to type.
"Do you know his name?"
"No."
His hands stopped.
The manager looked up.
"Sorry, you don't know his name?"
"No."
"Do you have a photo?"
"No."
The manager remained silent for several seconds.
Geonwoo understood his reaction.
Park Dojin and the producer had worn similar expressions.
"Then... how are you planning to find him?"
"I know his voice."
The manager started leaning back, then straightened again.
"His voice?"
"Yes."
"He used to read opposite lines during actor tests here."
The manager's expression changed.
"A reading actor?"
"Yes."
"When?"
Geonwoo gave him the approximate period.
The manager nodded and began searching through records.
"Do you remember his age range?"
"It's hard to tell from voice alone."
"Probably in his thirties."
The manager opened several folders.
"There were a few male actors we regularly called for readings."
Profiles appeared one by one.
Geonwoo said,
"Could I hear their voices first?"
"Of course."
The first file played.
A low voice.
Not him.
Geonwoo shook his head.
The second.
Excellent projection.
Still wrong.
Third.
A little similar.
Geonwoo listened to the end.
No.
Fourth.
Fifth.
The manager closed the files.
"These are the people we still have records for."
Geonwoo looked at the names on-screen.
None were the man he wanted.
"Is that everyone?"
"Actually, there is one more."
"What kind of person?"
"He wasn't officially registered as a reading actor."
"He's a theater actor from Daehangno. We called him several times when we were short on people."
"Do you still call him?"
"Yes. I think he came last week too."
Geonwoo leaned forward slightly.
"Can I hear his voice?"
The manager shook his head.
"He wasn't formally registered with us, so we don't have an audio file."
"Can I have his name?"
"One moment."
The manager searched.
There weren't many results.
A few plays.
Several minor roles.
One film appeared too.
But there was no role name listed.
The manager said,
"He did a movie too."
He opened another page.
"He filmed it, but it looks like he wasn't in the released version."
Geonwoo looked at him.
"His scenes were cut?"
"Probably."
The manager checked more information.
"He was also cast in a drama once, but production collapsed."
He tilted his head.
"That's strange."
"Why?"
"He had good qualities."
Another profile picture opened.
It was several years old.
Tall.
Broad shoulders.
His face also stood out as he looked directly into the camera.
The manager continued,
"He was tall and good-looking."
"He had solid fundamentals because he'd done theater for a long time."
"He also trained at an action school for years."
"His falls and fight choreography were already good, and if I remember correctly, he'd even learned sword work."
Geonwoo stared at the photo for a long time.
He had come looking for a voice.
But every new detail sounded more suitable for the military officer.
"His qualifications sound excellent. Why didn't anything work out for him?"
"Being prepared doesn't guarantee that an actor gets their break."
More details followed.
A drama his first agency had secured was canceled before production.
He filmed a movie, only to have all his scenes removed during editing.
He once reached the final shortlist for an important supporting role, but investment was delayed, the production team changed, and casting restarted from the beginning.
Meanwhile, his agency went out of business.
"I heard he had family issues too."
"What kind?"
"His father passed away and left some debt."
The manager shrugged.
"I don't know the details."
"Does he still work as an actor?"
"From what I know, he barely auditions for films anymore."
"He performs in theater and works as an assistant instructor at an action school."
"Do you know where he's currently performing?"
"One moment."
The manager checked an address on-screen.
It was a small theater in Daehangno.
"You're lucky."
"He has a performance tomorrow."
The next evening.
Moon Taeseok waited for Seo Jiwan in a private room at a reserved restaurant.
The door opened.
Seo Jiwan entered with his manager.
Moon Taeseok stood.
"You're here."
"Did you wait long?"
"Not at all. I just arrived."
After greeting each other, they sat.
Before the food arrived, Moon Taeseok asked,
"How did you like the screenplay?"
Seo Jiwan picked up his water glass.
"I enjoyed it."
"I'm glad."
"I especially liked the character."
"I heard you personally recommended me."
Moon Taeseok smiled.
"I thought the role would suit you."
Seo Jiwan smiled too.
"When I hear something like that, it makes me want to do it."
Moon Taeseok immediately continued.
"This is a film carried by its protagonist."
"I think there's a strong image in having Seo Jiwan's face carry an entire movie."
Seo Jiwan put down the glass.
It was exactly what he wanted to hear.
The alcohol Moon Taeseok had prepared arrived.
Their glasses were filled.
The conversation naturally moved toward filming and conditions.
Seo Jiwan asked,
"The appearance fee is exactly what I received in the proposal?"
"Yes."
"It was quite high."
"You're the sole lead. You deserve that much."
Seo Jiwan smiled and lifted his glass.
"When you say it like that, I feel like my market value just went up."
"It was time."
Their second glasses were filled.
Seo Jiwan talked about how difficult filming Low Ceiling had been.
Moon Taeseok listened with a smile.
"You won't have to eat much dust this time."
"That alone makes me want to sign."
Halfway through dinner, the manager reviewed the prepared paperwork.
If final production was canceled, the contract would terminate.
However, if the actor voluntarily withdrew or participated in principal photography for another feature film during this film's principal shooting period, the penalty clause would apply from the moment he signed.
Seo Jiwan checked the key conditions again.
[No Concurrent Principal Photography for Another Feature Film During Principal Shooting Period]
He looked at Moon Taeseok.
"So this is why the fee is high?"
"The production company added it because the schedule may move."
Moon Taeseok explained,
"It's a sole-lead movie, so you'll be in almost every shoot."
Seo Jiwan thought briefly.
Then he picked up the pen.
"Sounds good. Let's sign."
The Night the King Died was still inside his bag.
Seo Jiwan signed the contract.
At the same time.
Geonwoo was walking through an alley in Daehangno.
He checked the saved address on his phone again.
A small sign pointed toward the basement of a building.
Geonwoo went down the stairs.
Several theater posters covered the wall.
It was a tiny theater with fewer than a hundred seats.
Geonwoo opened the door and entered.
There were still around twenty minutes before the performance.
Audience members who had arrived early were taking seats one by one.
Geonwoo sat near the back.
Only a few simple props and chairs were placed onstage.
He opened the program he'd been given.
The cast names were listed.
Among them was the name the casting company had found.
"I wonder what his actual acting is like."
Soon the house lights dimmed.
The audience gradually fell silent.
The stage lights turned on.
The actors entered one by one.
Geonwoo immediately recognized one of them.
He looked much better in person than in the old profile picture.
His tall body and broad shoulders were noticeable even onstage.
Standing beside the other actors made the difference even clearer.
But he didn't feel like someone who unnaturally dominated the stage.
Another actor began speaking.
The man listened silently.
Then his turn came.
The first line left his mouth.
Geonwoo's hand stopped on his knee.
That's the voice I was looking for.
He had only heard it once in his previous life.
Yet he recognized it instantly.
A firm voice.
A faint sadness lingering at its end.
Even in an angry scene, the man didn't raise his voice first.
He stared at the actor opposite him and answered a beat late.
As if holding the words back before finally letting them out.
Geonwoo leaned slightly forward.
The acting was good too.
When the other actor pushed harder, he accepted that energy.
He didn't simply interrupt the emotional flow because it was suddenly his turn to speak.
He absorbed the atmosphere created by the other actor and carried it into his next line.
Then came a short physical struggle.
His movement changed immediately.
He avoided the other man's arm.
Twisted his body.
Created distance.
His feet never tangled.
Despite his large frame, his movements weren't heavy.
Geonwoo immediately understood what the casting manager meant about years of action training.
His eyes followed the actor across the stage.
He'd look right in a military uniform.
Geonwoo could imagine a sword at the man's waist as he walked through the palace.
He could see him blocking the historian's path.
Holding his father's report.
Furious, yet refusing to shout.
Exactly like the military officer Geonwoo had written.
The stage went dark.
A little later, the lights came on again as the cast stepped forward.
Applause filled the theater.
Geonwoo clapped too.
The man bowed from one side of the stage.
After the performance.
Geonwoo left the theater and waited near the entrance.
Audience members gradually climbed the stairs.
About ten minutes later, actors began coming out too.
The man appeared near the end.
He wore a black padded jacket with a bag over one shoulder.
He had looked large onstage.
Up close, his build stood out even more.
Geonwoo pushed away from the wall.
At that moment, the man noticed him too.
He stopped.
"Are you... Director Baek Geonwoo?"
Geonwoo looked slightly surprised.
"You know me?"
"Yes."
The man smiled.
"I saw you at the Busan International Film Festival."
"I watched Before the Light Reaches."
"I attended the GV too."
Geonwoo nodded.
"I see."
"I really enjoyed the movie."
"Thank you."
The man tilted his head.
"But what brings you here, Director?"
Geonwoo answered immediately.
"I came looking for an actor."
"An actor?"
"Who are you looking for?"
Instead of answering, Geonwoo looked directly at him.
The man's expression slowly stiffened.
Then Geonwoo said,
"The person standing in front of me right now."
The man's eyes widened.
"...Me?"
"Yes."
"Would you be willing to audition for me here?"
