Chapter 49: The Unveiled Truth

Leaning towards Choo Gi-hoon, Yeon-ho resembled someone drawn in by an intriguing conversation from a neighboring cafe table.

“The latter wouldn’t apply to you, would it? So, by process of elimination, you spent the money for the former. Case closed. Okay?”

“Why! There could have been someone they liked.”

“You weren’t even there yourself, Actor, so aren’t you jumping to conclusions a bit too quickly?”

The staff, who had been on Choo Gi-hoon’s side moments before, now voiced their complaints.

“Ah, come on, a man knows a man’s heart best. You, junior, keeping quiet over there, what do you think? The former, or the latter?”

Choo Gi-hoon turned to look at Yeon-ho. Suddenly singled out, Yeon-ho was flustered, his lips merely parting.

“I…”

“Don’t worry about him; just speak your mind freely.”

Choo Gi-hoon clapped Han Tae-young on the shoulder. Yeon-ho’s gaze met Tae-young’s in the mirror. Tae-young’s eyes were wide and intense.

It seemed he was warning Yeon-ho to answer carefully.

‘What should I say? He denied the former, and the latter would lead to a scandal. He should at least tell me the answer before giving me a look like that.’

Yeon-ho hadn’t deeply considered why Tae-young had treated the staff to a meal. He had simply gone along, drinking with strangers, with no time to gauge the atmosphere.

He did recall Tae-young acting suspiciously friendly with the staff, but beyond that…

“I apologize, but I cannot answer that. I am only a temporary manager who must consider my employer’s feelings.”

“Temporary manager?”

Choo Gi-hoon tilted his head, then furrowed his brows.

“How long have you been working with him?”

“I’m only working today.”

“Any prior experience elsewhere?”

Yeon-ho shook his head, his expression conveying his bewilderment at such persistent questioning.

“None.”

“Really? That’s strange. Why do you look so familiar? You don’t have a common face, so there’s no way I’m mistaking you for someone else.”

Choo Gi-hoon abruptly rose, his demeanor like that of an impatient gang boss. Though shorter than Yeon-ho, his commanding presence and senior status made Yeon-ho involuntarily tense.

“What’s your name?”

“Why are you harassing someone else’s manager?”

Tae-young extended his arm like a barrier, blocking Choo Gi-hoon from moving forward.

“Look at this guy’s mouth! When did I ever harass your manager?”

“Perhaps you should look in a mirror before saying such things.”

Choo Gi-hoon instinctively turned to check his reflection. A stage scar, created with makeup, slashed across his cheek.

“When someone already looks intimidating approaches you with a knife scar, isn’t that a threat? What else would it be?”

“You insolent brat. Your manager looks like they could pick a fight anywhere, too.”

Choo Gi-hoon grumbled in response, then sank back into his seat. While he had taken a jab at Yeon-ho, he seemed to agree with Tae-young’s point.

“They get into fights more often than you’d think.”

“Who? Them?”

Choo Gi-hoon looked back at Yeon-ho, a skeptical expression suggesting disbelief. At that moment, the very person who had often provoked Yeon-ho called out to him.

“Yeon-ho, my script, please.”

Yeon-ho unconsciously winced. Tae-young’s tone was so overly sweet it almost made him break out in hives. This was clearly a moment for Tae-young to be his usual difficult self, and the obvious artificiality of his voice made Yeon-ho inexplicably uneasy.

“Why the serious expression? Did you forget the script?”

“No. I brought it.”

Yeon-ho retrieved the script from his bag and handed it to Tae-young.

“Thank you.”

Tae-young smiled brightly as he expressed his gratitude. Yeon-ho, accustomed to Tae-young’s constant complaints, found this sudden politeness unsettling.

‘What if he keeps this up all day?’

Gritting his teeth, Yeon-ho whispered, convinced he couldn’t endure it any longer.

“Hey, just act normal.”

“What?”

Tae-young flipped through the script as he asked. Yeon-ho could feel the staff watching them with curious eyes.

“Your tone.”

“I am acting normal? This is how I usually speak to my manager.”

Just as Yeon-ho was about to tell him not to play games, a staff member chimed in, supporting Tae-young.

“That’s right. Tae-young-ssi, I saw you speaking very politely to your manager before. Is your manager a bit older?”

“Yes.”

Tae-young gave Yeon-ho a ‘See?’ look, then handed the open script back to him.

‘He didn’t even seem to read it. Why is he giving it back already? Wasn’t he asking for it to read?’

Yeon-ho looked at Tae-young with a puzzled expression before taking the script. He was about to close it and put it back in his bag when Tae-young grabbed his wrist.

“Who told you to put it away?”

Yeon-ho looked down at Tae-young, his eyes asking, ‘Then what did you give this to me for?’

‘Is he expecting me to hold the script for him?’

Thinking, ‘He acts like royalty,’ Yeon-ho reopened the script, but then Tae-young made an unexpected request.

“Read the section I’ve opened.”

Yeon-ho gazed at the script for a moment before speaking.

“Why?”

“It’s uncomfortable to read the script while getting makeup done.”

It was a perfectly reasonable explanation. If he intended to read several pages, not just a few lines, it would be difficult to concentrate, and the makeup artist would also be inconvenienced.

‘Reading it aloud isn’t difficult, but…’

Yeon-ho glanced at Choo Gi-hoon.

“You’re not the only one using the dressing room; Actor Choo is here too. Wouldn’t reading aloud be a bit much?”

Only then did Tae-young briefly look at Choo Gi-hoon before pulling out his phone. He seemed to be sending a message or searching for something, but the staff blocked Yeon-ho’s view.

*Ding.*

The notification sound came from Choo Gi-hoon’s side.

“Honestly, you want to check his skills with a cold reading? What a strange thing to do.”

Choo Gi-hoon looked at his phone, then waved his hand dismissively.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it. Read as much as you like. Oh, are you all okay with it?”

“No reason to object.”

“Yes, it’s fine.”

The staff members glanced at Yeon-ho with intrigued expressions.

Yeon-ho self-consciously scanned the script and asked Tae-young.

“Should I start from Scene 52, or from the first line?”

“From Scene 52.”

Yeon-ho nodded and began to read the stage directions.

“Scene 52. The house where Da-ro lived with his family. Night. Moon-gyu, using pre-prepared tools, easily picks the front door lock. Traces of the house being uninhabited for a long time are evident everywhere. Moon-gyu picks up a thickly dust-covered picture frame. Wiping away the dust on the glass, he reveals Da-ro, appearing to be a high school student, and his family, smiling brightly.”

Images of the drama videos Yeon-ho had seen in the future naturally came to mind. Cha Moon-gyu, after learning that his sworn brother Bae Da-ro was an undercover agent, began to trace his past.

Cha Moon-gyu meticulously uncovered the truth, revealing that everything he knew about Bae Da-ro’s past was a lie. Though tormented by the truths he wished to ignore, he delved into the circumstances that led Bae Da-ro to become an undercover agent.

While he pursued Bae Da-ro’s past with a self-destructive resolve, the unveiled truth was far harsher than Cha Moon-gyu had anticipated. Bae Da-ro was not like Jang Hee-jun, forced into undercover work by orders from police superiors.

He had voluntarily become an undercover agent, infiltrating the organization for revenge. The target of his vengeance was Cha Moon-gyu’s father, Cha Woong-jae.

Cha Moon-gyu, reeling from the shock, began to drink heavily. Coincidentally, the bar where he was drinking was attacked by a rival organization. Cha Moon-gyu was almost abducted by the rival gang members but was miraculously saved by a disguised Bae Da-ro.

‘Now that I think about it, from this scene onwards, it wasn’t Baek Hwi-kyung, but his stand-in actor who filmed it.’

Yeon-ho had intended to read the script mechanically, but he found himself immersed in Cha Moon-gyu’s character. This was partly because he had portrayed Cha Moon-gyu just yesterday, and the character’s emotions felt like an extension of the scene he had acted.

‘I didn’t understand why Cha Moon-gyu was portrayed as not recognizing Bae Da-ro here, but the script explicitly states he didn’t recognize him.’

In this sequence, Cha Moon-gyu failed to recognize Bae Da-ro because he was masked. However, in Yeon-ho’s view, Cha Moon-gyu should have at least harbored some doubt, wondering if the man who saved him was indeed Bae Da-ro.

This would have better explained why Cha Moon-gyu’s attitude towards Bae Da-ro would fluctuate in the future.

Moon-gyu, in a state of panic, gasps for breath. He shows no sign of recognizing the masked man as Da-ro.

Moon-gyu: “Who are you? (Shouting) Why did you save me?”

Da-ro: “…”

Moon-gyu: “Why aren’t you answering? Are you mute? You must have a reason for saving me. Tell me what you want. Or tell me who ordered you to save me.”

Da-ro: “…” (Turns away)

Da-ro leaves after confirming Moon-gyu is safe.

Just as a musician must not ignore the score, an actor has a duty to faithfully follow the script. However, Yeon-ho was not an actor appearing in the drama, so he delivered the lines in his own way.

“Who are you? …Why did you save me?”

Yeon-ho did not shout. His voice was suppressed, as if stifling a groan, but it trembled slightly at the end, conveying Cha Moon-gyu’s doubt and confusion. There was no concrete evidence that the masked man was Bae Da-ro.

Yet, a vague certainty—no, a fervent hope—that it *was* Bae Da-ro surged within Cha Moon-gyu like waves in a stormy sea. Cha Moon-gyu and Bae Da-ro had been inseparable for five years, like brothers. No matter how thoroughly Bae Da-ro might be disguised, there was no way he wouldn’t recognize him.

“Why aren’t you answering? You must have a reason for saving me!”

The previous lines expressed emotion with relatively restrained intonation. However, this time, he did not suppress Cha Moon-gyu’s agitated emotions but expressed them explosively.

To Cha Moon-gyu, this man was unmistakably Bae Da-ro. Yet, he was frustrated, unable to comprehend why he had saved him while concealing his identity.

Was it because he was the son of the enemy he hated? If so, why didn’t he just not help him in the first place? And hadn’t he said he’d lost his memory? If that were true, wouldn’t he have forgotten that his father was his enemy too?