Chapter 51: The Weight of Undercover

Why wasn’t Cha Woong-jae more enraged? It was impossible that his betrayal didn’t sting deeply, so why?

Tae-young—no, Bae Da-ro—glared at Cha Woong-jae, his mind racing furiously. Since his memories hadn’t fully returned, it was difficult to discern Cha Woong-jae’s true intentions. Bae Da-ro’s memories were halted at the age of twenty.

In truth, the one he understood even less than Cha Woong-jae was himself before he lost his memories.

As an undercover agent, Bae Da-ro had lived strictly as Cha Woong-jae’s hound. He had earned recognition for handling all the dirty work, eventually rising to become Cha Woong-jae’s right-hand man.

He could understand committing unsavory acts to gain Cha Woong-jae’s trust. Though his conscience pricked him, once he decided to become an avenger, dirtying his hands was unavoidable.

Yet, it was incredibly strange that he hadn’t sought revenge, even when holding information that could ruin Cha Woong-jae. Why hadn’t he avenged his father?

Had his father’s revenge been pushed aside because he was too busy clinging to Cha Woong-jae and enjoying a life of luxury? Or perhaps the higher-ups in the police force had prevented the revenge, deeming it not the right time.

Due to the incomplete return of his memories, the twenty-year-old Bae Da-ro found it hard to understand the mindset of the undercover Bae Da-ro—no, the gangster Bae Da-ro. Every time he encountered traces of the gangster Bae Da-ro’s life—the house he lived in, the objects he used, his phone password—Bae Da-ro felt a sense of alienation rather than familiarity.

Their tastes were different, and even their habits were completely disparate. Could the gangster Bae Da-ro and the twenty-year-old Bae Da-ro truly be the same person?

When he first regained consciousness, Bae Da-ro had attempted cold reading on the frightening man reflected in the mirror, not even realizing it was himself.

Cold reading. It was a technique for discerning the psychology and true thoughts of someone you’d just met.

He had first used the psychological skill, which he’d taught himself because he wanted to become a criminal psychologist, on himself.

The first impression Bae Da-ro had of the gangster Bae Da-ro was that of a cold-blooded man who felt no sympathy for anyone, a scoundrel who would do anything for money, a results-oriented individual who stopped at nothing to achieve his desires, a man plagued by migraines, obsessed with cleanliness, and constantly suffering from an unknown sense of dissatisfaction.

This impression didn’t differ much from the psychological analysis Bae Da-ro conducted later when he searched through the gangster Bae Da-ro’s house.

After realizing who he was, Bae Da-ro thoroughly investigated the gangster Bae Da-ro’s life. However, no matter how deeply he probed, it was difficult for an ordinary twenty-year-old to convincingly play the role of a gangster Bae Da-ro whose humanity had eroded.

The two were too different in personality, values, and even ways of thinking.

Bae Da-ro never had a single day of peace, constantly fearing that he would reveal his memory loss. The people Bae Da-ro had to deal with included corrupt high-ranking police officials, politicians, criminals specialized in swindling others, and seasoned residents of the underworld—all individuals with a knack for reading people’s true intentions.

Despite the immense pressure, Bae Da-ro consistently emerged victorious in the psychological battles against these cunning monsters. He not only successfully kept his secret but also turned the tables, catching them off guard and making them reveal crucial information.

“Chairman Cha, know your place. Who exactly is helping whom rise?”

Bae Da-ro scoffed with an arrogant expression. He was playing the role of the gangster Bae Da-ro, no longer a loyal dog but a wild one who had broken free of his leash.

In truth, he wanted to abandon this act entirely and lunge at his father’s enemy, strangling him. But now was not the time, so he desperately kept his head cool.

Killing Cha Woong-jae wouldn’t be true revenge. Such a meager retribution couldn’t wash away the resentment of losing his father. Death was too lenient a punishment for the crimes Cha Woong-jae had committed.

Upon regaining a portion of his memories, Bae Da-ro swore he would witness Cha Woong-jae’s downfall. He would not accept anything less than seeing Cha Woong-jae lose everything and miserably rot in prison, or hang himself in shame.

Cha Woong-jae roared.

“Chairman Cha? How insolent!”

Bae Da-ro cut Cha Woong-jae off.

“The Seo Gwang-pa was able to grow this large not because you were so capable, Chairman Cha, but because I helped you.”

Whether this was true or not didn’t matter. What Bae Da-ro wanted was to psychologically corner Cha Woong-jae. Moreover, considering that the Seo Gwang-pa, which had been on a smooth path, faltered shortly after Bae Da-ro’s disappearance, it wasn’t an absurd bluff.

“You scoundrel!”

Cha Woong-jae, furious, grabbed Bae Da-ro by the collar. Bae Da-ro looked down at Cha Woong-jae with eyes full of contempt and mockery, as if dealing with a persistent debtor.

“You still haven’t grasped reality. We’ll see you at the next bid, Chairman Cha. I’ll be taking the terminal site development rights anyway.”

Bae Da-ro roughly pulled Cha Woong-jae’s hand away and brushed off his suit. It was a small gesture, but enough to make Cha Woong-jae feel humiliated.

“Cut!”

As PD Go Woo-seung yelled “Cut!”, gasps of admiration echoed from all directions. Yeon-ho, who had retreated to a corner of the set to avoid disturbing the shoot, let out a small groan. If he hadn’t been holding Tae-young’s luggage, he might have covered his face.

‘How can he act so well?’

Yeon-ho had never doubted Tae-young’s acting skills. When he was immersed in cold reading, he considered Tae-young to be the top actor among his peers. He thought it might be an overestimation and never dared to say it aloud, but he believed Tae-young was fully deserving of a Best Actor award.

Yet, it turned out he hadn’t been overestimating Tae-young at all; he had been *underestimating* him.

Tae-young’s acting, witnessed directly on set, was so overwhelming that Yeon-ho could only think of it as insane talent. While the camera was rolling, no trace of Han Tae-young’s true self could be found. It was as if Bae Da-ro, existing in another world, had manifested.

Yeon-ho was utterly captivated by Bae Da-ro, as portrayed by Tae-young. Tae-young, dressed like a gangster, embodied Bae Da-ro—a mere twenty-year-old with youthful impudence at his core—with just a glance. Despite no drastic changes in expression or dialogue, the intensity of Bae Da-ro’s struggle to suppress his rage was profoundly palpable.

‘Was the impact this strong when I watched the broadcast?’

No. When Yeon-ho watched this scene on the hospital TV, he had focused more on the fact that Bae Da-ro had finally begun his revenge, rather than Bae Da-ro’s emotions. But now, his entire attention was drawn to the stormy emotions raging within Bae Da-ro’s inner world.

Clap, clap, clap, clap!

“Bravo! Perfect. Let’s just get a separate shot of Choo Sunbae grabbing the collar, then move on to the next scene.”

“Before we get the insert, let’s take a look at what we just shot.”

PD Go Woo-seung, who had been giving a standing ovation, cocked his head.

“You don’t like it? I told you it was perfect!”

“I think the emotion might be a bit excessive.”

“No, not at all! In my opinion, this is the best. See these goosebumps? When you pushed Choo Sunbae away and brushed off your suit, I was so thrilled my hair stood on end!”

As PD Go Woo-seung dramatically extended his arm towards Tae-young, Choo Gi-hoon stepped down from the set.

“He did put a lot more force into it than during rehearsal. He was so menacing, I thought he genuinely held a grudge against me, not that he was just acting!”

With Choo Gi-hoon adding his comments, PD Go Woo-seung sighed deeply.

“…Alright, fine. Let’s take a look.”

Tae-young peered at the monitor with a serious expression Yeon-ho had never seen before. It was a different kind of focus than Bae Da-ro’s intense gaze.

“See? Not excessive at all.”

“I think the rehearsal was better.”

PD Go Woo-seung and Choo Gi-hoon offered their opinions from beside him. However, Tae-young merely replayed the video, making no response, as if he hadn’t heard them.

After a long while, Tae-young finally tore his gaze from the monitor and looked towards Yeon-ho.

‘Was he looking at me?’

He was still unsure, but then Tae-young called out to him.

“Seo Yeon-ho, come over here.”

Yeon-ho nodded towards Tae-young.

‘He was looking at me after all. He found me in one go.’

As Yeon-ho walked, he pulled a handheld fan and tissues from his bag. He assumed Tae-young had called him because of sweat. The set was hot, lacking air conditioning, and the heat from the lights easily caused perspiration.

However, when Yeon-ho offered the handheld fan, Tae-young averted his head as if he didn’t need it.

“Forget the fan. What do you think?”

“My thoughts?”

“This scene we just shot. Do you think I should tone down the emotion?”

‘Did he call me over to ask for my opinion on his acting?’

Yeon-ho fidgeted with the fan, a troubled look on his face. He was flustered that he, neither an actor nor anything related, was being asked to comment on acting. But then he considered that perhaps Tae-young wasn’t genuinely seeking advice.

‘Since he hired me as his manager, maybe he wants me to be utterly subservient.’

No. Not ‘maybe’; that was definitely it. But even as Yeon-ho thought about fulfilling his duties as a manager, the words “You’re right” wouldn’t come out. The viewer persona within Yeon-ho refused to lie.

“Why aren’t you speaking? Are you actually trying to read my mood, which isn’t like you?”

Tae-young snatched the fan from Yeon-ho’s hand and turned it on. Yeon-ho winced as the strong gust of wind *whooshed* against his face.

He had just said he didn’t need the fan; he was so fickle.

“You’re holding it backward.”

Yeon-ho tried to correct the direction, but Tae-young avoided his hand.

“I’m not holding it backward, so just answer me quickly.”

*Whoosh, whoosh.*

The fan whirled around Yeon-ho’s head like a satellite. It was cool, but the fan was too close and annoying.

PD Go Woo-seung and Choo Gi-hoon looked over with interest, seemingly amused that Tae-young was playing around.

“Should I be honest?”

Yeon-ho grabbed Tae-young’s wrist so hard it made a *clack* sound. However, Tae-young’s wrist was much thicker than his, so the impact was somewhat diminished. He had almost never been physically outmatched in his life, but with Tae-young, that rare occurrence happened repeatedly.

‘How humiliating.’