Chapter 4 Part 1: Where the Water is Deep, the Fish Gather

After finishing the short film shoot and wrapping up the Thursday performance, Yejun returned home and collapsed flat onto his bed, his body utterly exhausted.

“Ah, I’m starving.”

Today, after eating lunch at the amusement park, all he’d had was a single roll of gimbap right before the stage performance, so his stomach rumbled like distant thunder.

He wanted to make something right away, but he was too tired, so he decided to rest just a little first.

Lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling, Yejun recalled Director Kim Minsu’s words.
‘Find your own unique charm.

Strip everything else away and act with simplicity, leaving only that.’

They were enlightening words, but while they were easy to say, actually finding that charm felt overwhelmingly daunting.

‘What even is my charm?’

After hearing Director Kim’s advice, he’d been thinking about it all day.

But no answer came.

No—was it even possible, in the first place, to clearly know one’s own charm?

Maybe if someone else told him.

Even if he thought he was confident about a certain aspect, others might not see it that way.

At times like this, the probability that others’ perspectives were more accurate than his own thoughts felt higher.
‘This feels like something that’ll take more time.’

Director Kim had said the same thing.

That even if you spent your entire life studying it, you might never find the answer.

That even the great actors of the present day were still endlessly searching for it.

“Yeah, right.

There’s no way something even top actors still haven’t figured out could be something a rookie like me could suddenly understand just from hearing one line.

Let’s just eat.”

Maybe because he’d eaten meat yesterday, his stomach felt a little heavy.

He usually lived on ramyeon, but today he wanted something different.

Yejun opened the fridge and the cupboards, then let out a dry laugh.
“Nothing.”

What was the point of wanting something different when all he had at home was ramyeon?

In the end, it was ramyeon again today.

Still, as an actor who had to go on stage again tomorrow, he couldn’t afford to eat ramyeon and mix in rice and wake up with a swollen face.

So he avoided the broth as much as possible and filled his hunger with just the noodles.

As he did, his eyes landed on the Pierrot mask sticking out of his bag.

The short film was over, and the play he was currently performing had reached the point where he could be nudged awake in his sleep and still recite his lines.

There was no need for any further training.

As he stared blankly at the mask, Yejun noticed the book he’d opened back when he first put on the Pierrot makeup.

It was a book he hadn’t opened even once since then, because vocal training was so boring that he’d avoided getting pulled into it as much as possible.

“If you want to improve, you have to study.”

After finishing the dishes, Yejun picked up the bread Ji-eun from the troupe had given him earlier.

Pacing around the bed, he began reading the book aloud.

“Working from negation begins by denying not only the qualities we assume a character possesses, but also the qualities they do not.

For example, if you are playing Stanley Kowalski in A Streetcar Named Desire by Tennessee Williams, you may accept as a given that Stanley is an insensitive brute.

However, the only way to know whether he is truly not sensitive is to test the possibility that he is sensitive.”

Reading books out loud had become a habit ingrained in him since college, thanks to his professor’s teachings.

Rather than simply reading silently, he read loudly while using as many facial muscles as possible.

It was an excellent training method that allowed him to practice vocalization and stretch facial muscles at the same time.

After reading for a while, Yejun scratched his head.
“This isn’t fun when I’m doing it alone.”

There was no one to tell him whether what he was doing was right or wrong, and that made it feel awkward.

It wasn’t fun, either.

The Pierrot doll suddenly came to mind, and Yejun let out a dry chuckle.

‘What am I even thinking?’

Training with the Pierrot doll was extremely basic, and not even remotely fun.

And no matter how much his success rate with vocalization had improved lately, the minimum physical time required to perform ten thousand vocalizations was still five days.

Of course, in reality, that translated to just five minutes.

After a moment of hesitation, Yejun clicked his tongue.
“They say hesitating between what you need to do and what’s annoying to do is the devil whispering to you.”

Yeah.

Let’s do it.

Even once a day would be fine.

Just do it, no matter what.

Of course, it required entering the Doll’s Room.

But what about going into the script instead?

If he put away the finished short film script and opened the play script together with this book, he might get lucky and enter the Doll’s Room.

And if not, well, it’d be Mount Sumi Lodge again.

The vengeful spirits he encountered inside scripts now felt familiar enough that it would probably be fine.

Yejun took out the mask and put it on his face, took a breath, and then opened the acting book and the play script at the same time.

A pitch-black room.

A Pierrot standing alone in the darkness.

Whether it was a living being or not, the Pierrot standing alone in this dark room looked terribly bored.

He didn’t know whether anyone else ever came here, but the Pierrot was always alone, and that somehow made him feel pitiful.

As Yejun quietly watched the Pierrot, he realized something was in his hand and lowered his gaze.
“Huh?”

In his right hand was the bread he’d been holding earlier.

Convenience-store bread, still unopened in its wrapper.

“What the hell, I can bring stuff in with me?”

Damn it.

If he’d known, he would’ve brought something to eat every time he came in here.

He wasn’t hungry right now, but after long vocal training sessions, his mouth tended to feel dry.

Eating something helped, so from now on, it would be good to bring snacks.

For now, since he’d just eaten ramyeon, it was fine.

As Yejun was about to put the bread into his pocket, he tilted his head and looked at the Pierrot standing stiffly.
“Come to think of it, there’s a lot I’m grateful for, but I’ve never given you anything.”

Convenience-store bread.

He didn’t know if the Pierrot would eat it, but maybe he could try giving it to him once.

If it at least conveyed how he felt, that would be enough.

Yejun walked up to the Pierrot—whom he was no longer afraid of—and held out the bread.
“Want some?”

“…..”

“I’m just giving it to you because I’m grateful.

I didn’t know I could bring things in with me.

It’s a pretty shabby gift, but just think of it as my way of saying thanks.”

“…..”

The Pierrot remained silent.

Since he hadn’t expected much from the start, Yejun smiled as if to say figures and was about to put the bread back into his pocket.

Then the Pierrot’s arm moved.

Assuming he was about to snap his fingers, Yejun hurriedly put the bread away and took a breath—but when he saw the Pierrot’s hand, his eyes widened.

“…..”

The Pierrot had raised his right hand to shoulder height to snap his index finger and thumb.

But now, his hand was facing Yejun.

Palm up.

“……What?”

Huh?

What is this—some kind of signal asking for something?

“Don’t tell me… you want the bread?”

“…..”

He didn’t nod.

He didn’t speak.

He simply held out his hand, palm facing upward.

Rustling, Yejun took out the bread and placed it in the Pierrot’s hand.

This time, the Pierrot’s left hand rose as well.

This little guy—he always only moved his right hand, so Yejun had thought the rest of his joints didn’t move, but apparently his left hand worked too.

When the left hand rose to shoulder height and snapped its fingers, a thin crack appeared behind the Pierrot, forming into a door.

The Pierrot still held out his right hand with the bread, while his left hand remained frozen in the snapping position.

Would the Pierrot actually eat the bread?

Yejun kind of wanted to see it happen.

But no matter how long he watched, the Pierrot didn’t move an inch.

In the end, Yejun let out a hollow laugh and lightly patted the Pierrot on the shoulder.

“You shy or something?

Then make sure you eat it after I leave, okay?

That’s a 3,300-won apple-jam mammoth bread—pretty expensive for convenience-store bread.

It tastes good.

It’s even better with milk, but I don’t have any.

Next time, I’ll bring banana milk too.”

“……”

Up close, this guy was kind of cute.

Yejun stood in front of the door the Pierrot had opened.
“Please, the Doll’s Room.

The Doll’s Room.

Mount Sumi Lodge wouldn’t be bad either, but today, please let it be the Doll’s Room.”

When Yejun opened the door wide, he saw the Pierrot doll sitting in the center of a dark room.
“Ohhh!

Was that worth the price of the bread, Pierrot?”

Turning around, he saw the Pierrot’s back.
“Thanks, buddy.

I’ll do my vocal training properly today too.”

After giving a casual farewell, Yejun stepped into the room.

The door closed, the crack disappeared, and the room became sealed once more.

Looking at the doll, Yejun said,
“First, I need some water.”

As if by magic, a flask filled with bottled water appeared on the floor.

Dropping down and drinking the water, Yejun looked at the Pierrot doll in the center and spoke again.
“Can you eat stuff too, by any chance?”

No—were the Pierrot outside and this doll even the same being?

He didn’t know.

And since it wouldn’t answer anyway, asking didn’t really matter.

All he could do was guess.

At that moment, golden letters floated above the Pierrot doll’s head.

Yejun, who had been standing up to begin vocal training, froze when he saw them.
“What the hell?”

[Pierrot’s Tutorial Level 2.

Do not blink while delivering the following line.]

For a moment, his thought process completely stopped.
“Level 2?”

Finally.

Finally, he’d reached Level 2?

“Ohhh!”

Joy surged up inside him.

He didn’t even know why he was so happy, but he was.

It felt like he’d accomplished something.

“Don’t tell me this is because I gave him bread?”

Not blinking was extremely important.

Especially in movies or dramas where an actor’s face was shown in close-up—actors barely blinked while delivering lines.

Blinking during dialogue distracted viewers and scattered their focus.

Rubbing his palms together in anticipation of the new training, Yejun spoke with confidence.
“Alright!

Give me the line!”

Golden text appeared above the Pierrot doll’s head.

[If this unworthy hand has defiled your sacred shrine, then as recompense for that sin, with lips flushed like two humble pilgrims, I would gently kiss you to wash away the foul mark.

If I cannot receive your love, then it is better to be discovered thus.

Rather than live a dull life without your love, I would die by their hatred.

Oh, my love, my wife.

Though death has stolen your sweet breath, it has not stolen your beauty.

Death itself could not conquer you.

Could it be that even that ghostly specter of death has fallen in love with you and wishes to imprison you in darkness as its bride?

Eyes, look upon her one last time!

Arms, this is our final embrace!

Lips, you doors of breath—seal with a righteous kiss, and proclaim to death, the usurper of all, that this is mine!]

It was Romeo’s line from Romeo and Juliet.

Seeing it, Yejun frowned deeply.

“Damn it!

That’s way too long!

How am I supposed to get through all that without blinking, you jerk?!”

It was absurdly long.

No matter how much he protested, the Pierrot doll remained silent.

But instead of answering, the small room changed for the first time.

“Huh?”

The Pierrot doll was seated in the center of the room.

And on the right wall, relative to where Yejun stood, an image appeared.

Inside a large red circle were three increasingly smaller circles.

It looked like an archery target.

“What’s this?

What am I supposed to do?”

“…..”

It seemed like he was supposed to deliver the line while looking at the target.

Well, let’s try it.

Not blinking was the key, so he’d do it quickly.

Recalling the vocal techniques he’d learned in Level 1, Yejun fired off the lines like a machine gun.

“If this unworthy hand has defiled your sacred shrine, then as recompense for that sin, with lips flushed like two humble pilgrims, I would gently kiss you to wash away the foul mark—uh…?”

He tried to finish as quickly as possible, but the attempt failed.

In the middle of his delivery, the target suddenly moved to another spot.

‘What did I do wrong?

Or am I supposed to move my gaze along with the target?’

What an unfriendly Pierrot doll.

Couldn’t it at least explain things properly?

Give me my bread back, you bastard.