There was no sound, only a profound numbness. He felt as though his body were floating, suspended in a quiet void. That was Lee Min-jun’s reality at this moment. How could he describe it? Everything was indistinct, a haze at the edge of his senses. He was conscious, but his awareness was blurred. He couldn't tell if he was lying down or standing up. The temperature was just as ambiguous, neither warm nor cold. Were his eyes closed? Or were they open? What was happening? What was he even doing? Only one thing was certain. In this undefined state, Lee Min-jun was overcome by a deep, unwavering comfort. He wanted to feel this way for the rest of his life. And then— His senses snapped back into focus. It wasn’t a voluntary return; an external force had jolted him awake, tearing him from his peaceful oblivion. That was the only way he could describe the feeling. Lee Min-jun let out a faint groan as he slowly opened his eyes. So they had been closed. A few seconds passed. As clarity finally returned, he was stunned into silence. The reason was simple. He had no idea where he was. Could this even be called a place? He had opened his eyes, but it made no difference. It was pitch-black all around. He felt as if he were trapped in a windowless room, starved of even a single photon of light. The oppressive atmosphere was thick enough to trigger a sudden bout of claustrophobia. The feeling spurred him to his feet, and he shouted into the darkness. “Hey! Choi Si-woo!” No response. “Excuse me! Hello!” He yelled again, but only silence answered. There wasn’t even an echo. His voice was simply swallowed by the void. What the hell was this place? It was an endless black, its scale impossible to gauge. It felt like a space without limits. At that moment, his anxiety sharpened. “Hey, hey! Choi Si-woo! Where the hell are we?” Immense fear began to envelop him. His mind raced back, trying to recall what had happened right before he’d ended up here. “I definitely touched something strange.” A perfect square, a swirling vortex of black and gray, had been floating in the air next to the script. Min-jun had pressed it with his index finger. “…What is this? A movie? Did I get sucked into a movie?!” Lee Min-jun clutched his head, his thoughts grinding to a halt. No matter how he looked at it, this felt real. A dream could never be this vivid. What on earth was this space? But the nature of this place wasn't his immediate problem. Escape was. Min-jun turned, ready to move, but froze. A white square had appeared in the blackness, hanging about three steps away. Had it been there before? He wasn't sure. But he had to find out. He quickly closed the distance. Up close, he could see its stark white color. It was roughly the size of a sheet of A4 paper and floated at chest height. What was most interesting, however, was what was on its surface. White letters were printed on the white square. -[1/page script (Title: Unknown), F grade (Judgement not possible)] -[The completion is very low. It is a damaged script or scenario. 100% reading is not possible. (About 10% can be implemented)] Lee Min-jun’s brow furrowed. “What is this? A damaged script? A scenario?” The white letters were gibberish to him. But only for a moment. The word ‘script’ jogged his memory. “...Ah, that script.” The few pages he’d received from that female staff member. Come to think of it, he had been sucked into this mysterious space right after getting it. So… “Could it be? This square… is it that script?” The pieces seemed to fit. Slowly, Lee Min-jun raised his hand and tried to grab the white square. It wouldn’t budge. Just as he touched it, new letters materialized beneath the old ones. -[1/page script (Title: Unknown) selected.] -[Listing characters available for reading (experience).] -[A: Terrified Man, B: Strange Man] What now? By this point, Lee Min-jun was teetering on the edge of a breakdown. He had to do something, anything, to get out. “Ah, hell, I don’t know.” He randomly tapped one of the options. It was ‘A: Terrified Man’. Instantly, a woman’s voice echoed through the mysterious space. [“‘A: Terrified Man’ reading preparation in progress…”] The tone was steady and emotionless, almost robotic. He didn't care. It was the first human voice he’d heard in this place. Min-jun shouted desperately. “Hey! Who are you? There’s someone here!” But the voice continued, ignoring his plea. [“…Preparation complete. This is a damaged script or scenario. Implementation is approximately 10%. The reading will begin now.”] Immediately after, a large gray mass surged forward and swallowed Lee Min-jun whole. It was cold. So strange. Just a moment ago, the temperature had been neutral, but now a biting chill seeped into his bones. Was he outside? Min-jun glanced down at himself. Huh? His clothes had changed. The padded jacket he’d been wearing was gone, replaced by a thin, brown windbreaker. A sense of wrongness washed over him as he snapped his head up. His vision had changed, too. It was still dark, but not the absolute blackness from before. Now he could make out faint silhouettes. Trees? Were those all trees? And beneath his feet… was he stepping on fallen leaves? Was he in the middle of a forest? He tried to make a sound, but his throat wouldn't obey. His own body felt alien to him. At the same time, new sensations flooded his senses. An irritating wind howled, rattling the unseen branches. The chilling atmosphere alone was enough to make his whole body tremble. Run. I have to run. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, a wave of primal fear crashed over him. Move. Move your legs. Keep running. Escape. He broke into a frantic sprint, with no thought for direction. He just ran, scrambling uphill. His breathing came in ragged gasps, but he ignored it. He ignored the skeletal branches that clawed at his face, their touch like ghostly fingers. Why? Why was he running? He had no idea. But even without knowing, Min-jun couldn’t stop. It felt fundamentally wrong to stop. His heart hammered against his ribs, threatening to burst. Yes, I’m being chased. Right now, I’m being chased. Even as he churned through the dead leaves like a madman, he kept glancing over his shoulder. Fortunately, the dark forest behind him remained empty. Suddenly, a low male voice spoke from right beside him. “Stop running. It’s annoying.” Before Min-jun could process the words, his leg caught on something and he went down hard. Pain erupted through him. It was incredibly real. The sting of his cheek scraping against the ground, the warm trickle of blood—it was all real. “You’re making me hungry.” The man’s voice came from behind his sprawled form. This was real, too. This was the role of the ‘Strange Man’. The only thing Min-jun could do was struggle. He had no other choice. This entire experience was beyond anything he could have imagined. Who had ever been chased by a strange man in the dead of night? I’m going to die. For some reason, I feel like I’m going to die. Min-jun thrashed desperately, but it was no use. The strange man planted a foot on his back, pinning him to the ground. Still, Min-jun’s struggles didn't stop. He bucked and twisted again and again, getting nowhere, but unable to stop trying. Dirt and grit filled his nostrils. Tears and snot streamed down his face, mixing with the earth. I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I want to live. The desperate emotions, his hands clawing at the leaves and dirt, the crushing weight on his back, his ragged, sobbing breaths—it was a symphony of terror. “Hmm, I’ve decided. I should go down and get some pizza.” The muttering of the strange man was horrifyingly real. Just then, he was flipped over. The strange man had done it. Trembling, Min-jun looked up at him. He had no face. Or rather, he had a face, but it was a perfect, round, black void hanging above his neck. The silhouette of his body, however, was faintly visible in the gloom. Something stabbed into Min-jun’s side. There was no time to even see what it was. The pain was blinding, a white-hot agony that felt like it had severed all his organs at once. It was an indescribable torment. Min-jun’s entire body convulsed. His legs shook, his arms and face spasmed. What was this feeling? Damn it, it hurt too much. This was undeniably real. Beg. Yes, beg. Beg for your life. He clasped his trembling hands together and pleaded, his eyes fixed on that black, featureless face. He said he would do anything, just spare his life. Even if he couldn’t see an expression, the man was human, right? The strange man laughed. Even though it was just a black void, Min-jun was sure he saw it laugh. Maybe it was a delusion born of hope, but he clung to it. He forced a smile in return, and then something stabbed into his body again. [“The reading of ‘A: Terrified Man’ has ended.”] The robotic woman’s voice echoed once more. How much time had passed? Dazed, Lee Min-jun faintly heard someone’s voice in his ear. “...Hey! Excuse me!” Min-jun, who had been holding his cell phone to his ear, slowly raised his head. He saw three people sitting behind a long desk. A man in his thirties, a man in his fifties with a goatee, and a strikingly beautiful woman. It seemed the man in his thirties was the one who had just called to him. Ah, I’m back. I’m back in that room. Lee Min-jun slowly lowered his phone. His expression was vacant, as if he were slightly drunk. He glanced at his phone’s screen. About a minute had passed. That was strange. He was sure he’d been in that forest for at least half an hour. Still in a state of complete oblivion, Min-jun’s face was a mask of indifference. His brain felt sluggish, operating at a fraction of its normal speed. It was then that the man spoke again. “Excuse me, are you not going to do it? We can’t reach Mr. Choi Si-woo.” The man at the desk shook the script, gesturing to Min-jun. Min-jun watched him quietly. ...Script. Ah, right. I just experienced that. Do they want me to act it out? He slowly rose from his chair. The man in his thirties looked slightly surprised. “Oh? You’re going to do it for him? Wow, you must be a really good friend.” Lee Min-jun walked forward and stood before the three judges, about two steps away. Why? He wasn’t sure. At this moment, he just felt a strange compulsion to show them. To show them everything that had just happened to him in that unknown place. For Lee Min-jun, who was slowly getting into position, it was all still vivid. He hadn't just read it. He had lived it. About ten minutes later. Lee Min-jun, having shown them everything contained in the script, was lying on the floor, his hands stretched toward the ceiling. Why? Because until a moment ago, he had been begging for his life. The fog in his mind finally cleared. In truth, his consciousness had been sharp the whole time, but now that the performance was over, his brain felt like it was finally catching up. As he slowly lowered his raised arms, the first thought that hit Lee Min-jun was: Ah, shit. What did I just do? A massive wave of embarrassment washed over him. Huh? What on earth just happened? Am I losing my mind? He tried to piece it together. Something had definitely happened, but at the same time, it felt like it hadn't. His mind was a tangled mess. But whatever it was, he had just performed it for everyone to see. Experience or not, it had certainly been passionate. Slowly, Lee Min-jun pushed himself up, clearing his throat softly. Ahem. He came to a single, swift conclusion. Pretend it never happened. Act natural. Figure it out later. It was excruciatingly embarrassing, but he forced himself to keep a straight face. He repeated a mantra in his head. I’m confident. I’m cool. Lee Min-jun, you are not embarrassed at all right now. Act as cool as possible. A woman’s voice broke the silence. She was the incredibly beautiful one among the three. Wait a second. Who was she? Huh? No way. Is that Yoon Seo-ah?! Long hair, flawless skin—before him sat Yoon Seo-ah, a top actress everyone in the country recognized. Why hadn't he realized it before? Was she just that different in person? She was an angel. If angels existed, they would surely look like her. Maybe that was it; she looked so unreal he hadn’t processed it. He was completely spellbound. Wow… I’m speechless. Wow. He stopped dusting off his pants and just stared, captivated by the woman sitting two steps away. It was then that she asked her question, her eyes narrowed in scrutiny. “Which university’s acting department did you graduate from? Chung-Ang? Hanyang?” What was she talking about? All he wanted to do was shout that he was a huge fan. But given the monumental embarrassment of the last few minutes, he had to maintain his cool facade. Maybe then the humiliation would be neutralized, just a little. Min-jun resumed dusting off his pants with deliberate slowness and cleared his throat again, aiming for a deep, heavy sound. A little bit of a tough-guy act couldn't hurt. When he spoke, his tone was surprisingly low. “No, I graduated from a university’s design department in Gyeonggi-do. I’m good at it. Design.” Idiot. Why did you add ‘I’m good at it, design’ at the end? He instantly realized his mistake but kept his expression firm. The funny thing was… “Design… department?” The faces of all three, including the top actress Yoon Seo-ah, wrinkled in confusion. He wasn't sure why, but it was clear they were surprised. “Then where did you learn to act?” Act? He’d never been interested in it in his life. But he had to get out of here, so he dodged the question. “I’m self-taught. Just… here and there on the weekends.” The bravado was amplifying itself. He didn’t even realize it. The man in his fifties with the goatee, sitting in the middle, leaned forward with wide eyes. “How did you do that just now? That was your first time seeing the script, wasn’t it? But how… how did you do all that after just a glance?” Just now? Shh. Don’t remind me of my shame. Min-jun, already planning his escape, glanced at the door behind him before answering. Of course, he had to keep up the cool, serious act. “It wasn’t particularly difficult.” After his short reply, Min-jun gave the three an ambiguous nod, a gesture that was half-bow, half-goodbye. Though his heart was racing, he walked calmly toward the door. Don’t call me back, don’t call me back, he chanted internally. Reaching the staff member by the exit, he spat out a warning. “Sorry, but don’t ever use what I just did for the broadcast. If you do, I’ll sue.” It was an empty threat, a desperate ploy to escape this hell as quickly as possible. Fortunately, it worked. Min-jun left the room without any further trouble. There were still other participants waiting outside. Min-jun, who had been expressionless, picked up his pace as soon as he was past them, his walk breaking into something close to a jog. Once he was a safe distance away, he covered his face with both hands and let out a deep, mortified sigh. “Damn it. That was so embarrassing.” Meanwhile, back in the room Min-jun had just fled. “...PD-nim. Did he just say that wasn’t particularly difficult? After a performance like that?” Top actress Yoon Seo-ah was in a state of shock, though her excitement was palpable. The man in his fifties with the goatee, the director, responded to her question. “A design department? And he’s good at it? What a peculiar character.” “Self-taught? No way! He must have studied somewhere, that was…” “Even if he was entirely self-taught, think about it. He’s not from an acting school, his main job is design… do you really think someone could learn that on the side and pull it off so easily? I’ve been directing for twenty years, and I’d say it’s impossible.” “And his confidence when he answered. That was real. He genuinely found it easy. More than that, he delivered that performance after glancing at the script for one minute. I’ve never seen anyone whose background is so impossible to figure out.” The middle-aged director looked at the door Min-jun had left through and chuckled. “A rare genius. Every once in a while, a monster like that appears.” The snowball of misunderstanding had begun to roll.

Chapter 2: Torn from Oblivion