I Was Mistaken as a Monstrous Genius Actor

Chapter 393: Crushed (2)

Translator: Dreamscribe

When was it? When Hong Hye-yeon caught him laughing to himself? Or when I confessed his concept to CEO Choi Sung-gun for the first time? Initially, it was merely a way to evade situations, a front to neutralize the embarrassment he felt. However, as misconceptions and misunderstandings piled up and grew, Kang Woojin crossed a point of no return.

Though he couldn't remember the exact timing, at some point Woojin became aware.

About his concept as an arrogant monstrous actor.

‘Ah- if this keeps going, no one will believe me even if I confess my true self.’ A faint premonition of his future.

This gradually shifted from speculation to certainty.

Even if he were to scream, ‘I have a different personality! Everything so far has just been a concept act!’ no one would believe him. However, he had never tested this theory even once. Would it really turn out that way? He was curious, but there was no need to risk trying, nor the time or freedom to do so.

Yet, in the meantime, the concept act of the ordinary man Woojin continued to grow.

Gone were the days of nervously fearing exposure. Now, he enjoyed the danger and performed daring tightrope acts with a calm demeanor.

He even took it to the point of:

“Huh? But why do you all look like that? You don’t seem to believe me. I’m telling you, it’s been a mask all along, and this is the real me.”

This he tested at none other than the audition for the lead role of Hollywood’s massive 'Columbia Studios'. A hall filled with Hollywood superstars and big shots. A stage crowded with numerous cameras. Countless eyes focused on Kang Woojin.

'Wow- shit, this really feels liberating.'

In this overwhelming setting, he confidently revealed his concept act. It’s not that he wasn’t nervous. To be honest, this audition, this screen test, had his heart racing from the moment he joined. The hall was packed with foreigners exuding an unusual aura, and the acting of world-renowned Hollywood top actors was extraordinary. It made him realize yet again just how vast the world was.

If it had been his past self, he would have been desperately frantic.

He would have focused all his mental energy solely on maintaining the concept act and acting. Consequently, his field of view would have been narrow, and his brain’s processing sluggish.

But now, it was different.

He could see the entirety of the hall at a glance: the serious face of Director Ahn Ga-bok, the dumbfounded expressions of 'Columbia Studios' executives and actors, the foreign staff flustered and glued to their cameras.

Even the narrowed eyes of Choi Sung-gun.

The current Woojin considered those Hollywood monsters as test subjects for his experiment and the audience witnessing his first confession of his true self.

'This is fucking fun.'

To them, this was a solemn and profound place. Conversely, to Woojin, it was just a thrill-filled playground. The temperature difference was stark.

Even so,

‘Look at those faces on the Hollywood top actors, hehe, they’re probably wondering what the hell this is, right?’

He was brimming with confidence to shatter the superstars present. When had he decided this? Perhaps it was while he was immersed in reading the script for 'Pierrot'. Woojin realized something. The protagonist of this piece, 'Henry Gordon', resembled himself. He too had an ordinary persona, and within him hid a 'Joker'.

The only difference was that it was the opposite.

'Henry Gordon’s true self was the ‘Joker,’ and he lived by acting as an ordinary man.'

Kang Woojin, on the other hand, was genuinely an ordinary man and was acting out the concept. Though slightly different, their forms were opposites yet shared common ground. Ultimately, both wore masks, and their lives flipped because of it. They became monsters. From this, Woojin naturally arrived at a storytelling idea.

Why bother borrowing 'Henry Gordon' from 'Pierrot'?

Since the situation is similar, I’ll make the background about myself. I’ll showcase Kang Woojin’s own life, the current heavily concept-driven circumstances. Of course, while embodying 'Henry Gordon'.

At that moment, Kang Woojin opted for freedom instead of the 'free acting' requested for the 'Pierrot' audition.

And it cleared his head instead.

There was no need to prepare anything.

“Why is everyone making such dumbfounded faces? Surprised? Well, I suppose that’s fair. But what can you do when it’s the truth? Ha- it feels like I just got rid of a huge burden. Anyway, by some random chance, I ended up having to wear a mask, and that chance turned out to be something monumental enough to flip my life upside down. The proof is right here, me, as I am now.”

All he had to do was spit out the truth as it was. Overthinking or coming up with something elaborate was a luxury. It might have been a reckless action, but the current Kang Woojin was in no holding back mode. Get caught? Get exposed? Who cares. When that time comes, so be it. Right now, I’m going to enjoy this moment of confession. All you need to do is listen quietly to my story, my true core.

Sitting on a single-seater sofa, dressed as 'Henry Gordon', Kang Woojin grew bolder and bolder.

“There were plenty of funny things because of the mask too, like how surprised my close friends were.”

Even as Woojin, the focus of every gaze in the hall, switched the direction of his crossed legs, he gestured with his chin toward the panel of judges seated on the stage.

“That man over there, he’s hailed as a living legend in the Korean film industry. Even that kind of veteran judged me however he wanted. Isn’t that right, old man?”

A faint smile spread across Kang Woojin’s lips. Many foreigners, including the executive producer, turned their gazes toward Director Ahn Ga-bok. Despite Woojin speaking the truth, Ahn Ga-bok’s furrowed brow didn’t relax. Taking advantage of the silence, Woojin spoke again.

“I was nothing more than an ignorant fool, to be honest. I’ve improved a bit since then, though.”

At this moment, Kang Woojin was openly confessing himself. With 100% pure authenticity, he was speaking the truth.

But the reactions of those watching were strange. The starting point was Director Ahn Ga-bok, who was being openly called out.

‘…I see. He’s aligning ‘Henry Gordon’ with the current situation. The situation is Kang Woojin, but the persona is ‘Henry Gordon'.’

The sharp instincts of Director Ahn Ga-bok sparked a keen misunderstanding. Even as the confession was laid bare, misconceptions began to flourish, a maddening scene.

‘As if ‘Henry Gordon’ himself were the one auditioning.’

At this point, it would have made sense for Ahn Ga-bok, as well as Choi Sung-gun in the audience, to stand up in shock. The Hollywood monster-like foreigners could’ve also raged, questioning why such nonsense was happening at an audition. But the more Kang Woojin opened his mouth and spilled his truths,

“But it is fun, I’ll admit. Repeating situations like this makes it feel enjoyable.”

the misunderstandings grew larger and larger.

Choi Sung-gun, witnessing the truth unfold before his eyes, was no different.

‘This is why he said the audition method wouldn’t matter at all. If he performs the current situation itself as ‘Henry Gordon', then no matter how unexpected the audition process becomes, it won’t be a problem. What a terrifying guy. Also, I love you, Woojin.’

Confessions like this didn’t resonate with them. And gradually, the 'misunderstanding' began to infect the minds of all the foreigners in the hall. Starting with the stern-faced female producer sitting next to Ahn Ga-bok.

“Wait- could it be… he’s portraying the auditioning Kang Woojin as ‘Henry Gordon’?”

“That’s correct.”

“Transcending reality into acting, this is true free acting.”

The executives of 'Columbia Studios'.

“Is the interpretation that ‘Henry Gordon’ is experiencing this very scene himself?”

“By simply sitting on the sofa and performing unexpected actions, he’s captivated everyone’s attention, as if ‘Henry Gordon’ is freely chatting. This is unexpected.”

Even the dozens of key staff and Hollywood actors.

“The moment he stepped onto the stage, was he already… ‘The Joker’? Regardless, it’s a unique performance.”

“His acting style, is it method acting? Truly, he’s remarkable enough to have won Best Actor at Cannes.”

Particularly, Chris Hartnett’s smile deepened as he watched Kang Woojin seated on the stage sofa.

“It’s like… watching a one-man talk show. The protagonist is ‘Henry Gordon,’ and the audience is everyone here. Haha, what a brilliant idea. It doesn’t even feel like acting, does it? It’s as if the real ‘Joker’ is having a field day chatting. You can tell just how much time he must have spent mastering such realistic acting.”

No one in the hall understood Kang Woojin’s sincerity. Truly, it was enough to drive someone mad. Woojin hadn’t shown a single instance of acting since stepping onto the stage, yet everyone judged that he was delivering a performance so realistic it blurred the lines of reality. Not that Kang Woojin cared.

‘Hmm- look at that, not a single person looks like they believe me. I figured this would happen.’

He had roughly expected this. It didn’t matter. This situation wasn’t bad for Kang Woojin. In fact, it could amplify his presence severalfold. The reason was simple enough, wasn’t it? He hadn’t truly acted at all so far, and the real 'Henry Gordon' was only about to begin.

Soon.

-Swwik.

All the cameras focused on him as Kang Woojin, who had been lounging on the sofa with his legs crossed, suddenly stood up. Casually, he adjusted the fit of his red jacket.

“Since we’re on the subject, how about I show you what I was like before I wore the mask? Back when I was just a dumb commoner. It’ll be fun, like an event.”

In an instant, Kang Woojin drew upon the 'Henry Gordon' from 'Pierrot' that he held within. Specifically, 'Henry Gordon' from the beginning stages of the story. But bringing out only 'Henry Gordon' seemed dull. So he merged roles, pulling in Corporal Jin Sun-cheol from 'Island of the Missing'. Both the timid and rough aspects of the character were summoned. A synthesis of three roles began.

The dialogue didn’t have to be confined to the world of 'Pierrot'.

For Kang Woojin, the 'freedom of roles' had been unlocked. He could say or do whatever he pleased, freely wielding it as the composite 'Henry Gordon'.

“...Ah- th-that…”

Suddenly, the confidence vanished from Woojin’s face. His expression shifted 180 degrees. Even his posture became somewhat grotesque. His shoulders and back slumped, and his hands trembled faintly. His eyes reflected rock-bottom self-esteem, his gaze radiated anxiety, and a heavy atmosphere of despair enveloped him. In an instant, the figure on stage transformed. For Kang Woojin, this was where the real performance began after his confession.

But

“Hm?”

"Huh-"

"H-how did he switch so instantly?"

To everyone in the hall, including Director Ahn Ga-bok, it appeared to be a deliberate shift in tempo. It seemed as though Kang Woojin was taking them on a ride, lifting them up and dropping them at will. But regardless of what they thought, Woojin, who had been staring down at the stage floor, slowly raised his eyes with difficulty. He scanned the audience seats briefly before dropping his gaze again. The tension was palpable.

He looked scared, trembling, and pained, as though silently begging, ‘Please don’t look at me, I beg you.’

“I feel like I’m going to throw up. H-how long do I have to do this?”

The weight of their gazes crushed him. It was agonizing. Woojin wanted to run away. This was the first time he had stood on a stage like this, playing the protagonist. ‘Why? Why do I have to fight for a role against monsters like this? Wouldn’t it be fine to just live quietly? Should I just give up?’

Having made up his mind, Woojin, still hunched over, began to shuffle backward. The soft scraping sound from the floor seemed unnaturally loud.

‘Why is that sound so loud?’

At that moment.

-Sssk.

Woojin, his shoulders hunched, locked eyes with a camera positioned to his side. More accurately, he met the gaze of the man behind the camera. The man’s blue eyes held a spark of curiosity. However, to pre-transformation 'Henry Gordon', as embodied by Woojin, those eyes seemed entirely different.

Contempt, scorn, disregard, discrimination, persecution.

‘Don’t look at me. Don’t look at me like that.’

‘I didn’t do anything. Why are you attacking me?’

The gazes of people aren’t physical violence. But when they accumulate, they can become psychological assault. In that moment, anger welled up inside Woojin.

“D-don’t look at me like that.”

That anger abruptly amplified.

“Damn it, I said stop looking!”

This sudden outburst was thanks to the rough aspect of the synthesized Corporal Jin Sun-cheol. The anger he’d been holding back surged uncontrollably. His heart felt like it was about to burst. His blood boiled. Still hunched over, Woojin clenched his fists tightly. The low self-esteem in his eyes was now mixed with a faint but sharp murderous intent.

The intent wasn’t overwhelming, but it was steady and rising.

‘Should I punch him? Smash my head into him? Or grab that metal chair behind the bastard and use it?’

The rage, once solidified, seemed ready to erupt at any moment. His slumped shoulders, curved spine, and air of utter defeat were unchanged, but inside, the monster was slowly starting to reveal its true nature.

At that moment, a brake was applied.

Hold it, hold it in. It was the social reasoning of 'Henry Gordon'. He unclenched the fists he had tightly gripped. Then, he avoided the gaze of the man he had locked eyes with. He turned his body. Took a step. Yet, the anger didn’t dissipate. He had avoided it, but the fury still simmered, far from extinguished.

-Pak!

Woojin smacked his own head.

-Pak! Pak!

About three times, with significant force. And yet, Kang Woojin sat back down on the single-seater sofa. He then hit his head once more. After a moment, as if he had calmed down somewhat, he exhaled a long sigh.

“Hoo-”

Roughly five seconds of silence followed. Woojin, still hunched over, stared at the stage floor. At this point, everyone except Woojin thought:

‘...Is it over?’

They assumed the performance he had prepared was finished. The first person to break the silence was,

“Kang Woojin.”

Among the people seated at the judges' panel, it was the bald executive from 'Columbia Studios'. He seemed to want to ask something. However,

“Kukuk, hahahaha!”

Out of nowhere, Woojin, sitting on the sofa, burst into laughter. Slowly, he stood up as he laughed. As Woojin stood, his posture changed entirely. The slumped shoulders and bent back straightened, and his chest puffed out confidently. He shoved one hand into his pocket. The bald executive, who was about to speak, was left speechless, while Kang Woojin, with a smirking face, walked briskly toward him.

His stride was completely different from the pitiful gait just moments before.

-Swik.

Woojin stopped right in front of the judges' panel. He looked down at the bald executive. His right hand moved. Reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket, he pulled something out. A cigarette pack. Placing a cigarette in his mouth, Woojin lit it. The eerie grin on his face grew deeper. Kang Woojin took a long drag from the cigarette and exhaled smoke toward the bald man.

“Hoo-”

The bald executive furrowed his brow deeply. He looked up at Kang Woojin, who stood right in front of him.

‘This crazy bastard, what the hell is he doing?! But his eyes… there’s something.’

The atmosphere around Kang Woojin now was strangely different from the one he exuded earlier when he had first taken the stage and rambled. There was a suffocating intensity of madness and violence now, amplified several times over.

What is this? This wasn’t the same guy as before. And what are these actions supposed to mean?

Is this acting? Or is it real?

As questions filled the bald executive’s mind, Kang Woojin’s right hand moved.

-Thump!

His hand landed on the bald man’s head, firmly gripping it as if it were an octopus’s head. Woojin shook the man’s head slightly, and then, leaning in close, brought his face right up to the bald executive’s. His lips curled into a twisted, almost splitting grin.

“Call me ‘Joker,’ you damn baldie.”