Ghost-seeing actor

A bustling nightlife filled with dazzling lights.

Among them, a group of men in black suits entered a club.

Unlike the others, a young, inexperienced boy, Pal-gwang, was visibly trembling.

“You were told to bring back the payment. You must bring it back….”

The other attendees, watching the boy, exchanged knowing glances and chuckles.

“What are you lot even thinking? If you’re going to collect a debt, send someone higher up, or at least someone with a functioning brain! Huh!”

Suddenly—

Bang!

With a loud crash, Gwon Hyeok-du forcefully kicked the door open.

Everyone in the room instantly tensed up.

Everyone except for the boy, who stood frozen behind the man.

The men present quickly drew their knives.

“Who the hell walks into someone else’s establishment and starts causing a scene?”

“You’ve had too much to drink. This will be easy to handle.”

Whoosh—Crash!

Before anyone could react, Gwon Hyeok-du swiftly pulled a dagger from his coat and threw it at the opposite mirror.

No one even noticed his movement.

“What’s going on!”

Amid shattered glass flying everywhere, the fight began.

Gwon Hyeok-du drew another blade from his coat.

Easily parrying the oncoming knives from the surrounding thugs, he swiftly slashed their hands.

“Ahhh!”

The chilling screams echoed as they fell to the ground, bleeding profusely.

The entire floor was covered in blood.

As Gwon Hyeok-du began pulling the trembling boy away, a man grabbed his ankle and groaned in pain.

“Ghh… Who the hell are you? Who dares to do this….”

Gwon Hyeok-du viciously stepped on his head, growling.

“Tell your boss. The next time you mess with Seongmunpa, you’re done. So figure it out, got it?”

The man, trembling in fear, gasped and stammered.

“Surely… it can’t be… Gwon Hyeok-du?”

A sinister smirk formed on Hyeok-du’s face.

“Oh, now you recognize me, idiot.”

***

A foggy alley behind a building, filled with cigarette butts scattered at Gwon Hyeok-du’s feet.

A hesitant boy, Pal-gwang, approached him carefully.

“Hyung, you’ve made a name for yourself, but why do you still seem so troubled?”

“Should I be happy?”

“You single-handedly wiped out dozens with a dagger. There’s no one like you with a blade.”

Gwon Hyeok-du gave a bitter smile as he raised his face.

“Been holding a knife my whole life. Whether it’s a kitchen knife, a fish knife, or a dagger…”

Pal-gwang hesitated before speaking again.

“I heard you used to be a chef. How did you end up here?”

Hyeok-du’s expression twisted into a grimace.

“This isn’t my first time here. When I was just a kid, I was deeply involved. My father passed away early, and my mother struggled to make ends meet selling goods. We often went hungry. As a young child, I hated living in poverty. Maybe that’s why I wandered outside more.”

Lost in memories, Hyeok-du continued, his voice tinged with regret.

“I caused my mother endless pain by getting involved in thug life. But one day, seeing my mother’s tears, I truly woke up. I decided to leave this life behind and tried everything to live honestly. I succeeded for a while. But I returned here.”

Taking a long drag on his cigarette, Gwon Hyeok-du sighed deeply.

However, even the cigarette couldn’t ease the ache.

The longing for his mother and the guilt of never fulfilling his filial duties weighed heavily.

He hadn’t seen his mother in ages, but he desperately missed her.

All he wanted was to give his aging mother a warm meal after a life of working tirelessly.

***

“As a child, I caused my mother endless suffering through fights, and I vowed to repay her by becoming a great chef. I worked tirelessly, and eventually became the head chef at a famous restaurant.”

Taek-joo carefully expressed his curiosity.

“You quit cooking and became a thug. How did that happen?”

“Why did I return to this life?” Gwon Hyeok-du touched the scar on his forehead.

“I damn near lost my head, and I lost both my sense of taste and smell. Hell, even hospitals had never seen a case like mine.”

“Wasn’t there any treatment?”

“They couldn’t guarantee that my sense of taste and smell would ever come back. I struggled for a long time with the thought that I couldn’t cook anymore. With no income, my world was dark and uncertain.”

He looked at Taek-joo with a serious expression.

“Eventually, I came back to this life. A bar kitchen where they pay you well as long as you can handle a knife. I hesitated at first because it was a thug’s place, but when money was tight, I had no choice. My skills with the knife caught the attention of the boss, and that’s how I fell deeper into this path.”

As he spoke, his voice became choked with emotion.

“I earned money, but I never saw my mother again. And rightly so, to her, I was no longer her son but just another thug. Even promises to change and never go back on my word were broken. I can’t escape this. Whether living or dead, I’ll always be a shameful son.”

Hearing his story, a pang of sympathy rose in Taek-joo’s heart.

The regretful thug who had strayed from the right path, constantly seeking redemption.

“With nothing but my body, I’ve lived like this,” Hyeok-du said bitterly. “Damn it. Who would’ve thought I’d die like this, crippled by illness?”

He collapsed onto the ground, breaking into heavy sobs.

“My mother’s birthday is next Tuesday. She’s the one who endured all my struggles. Help me at least give her a warm meal as an unworthy son.”

A moment of silence fell.

At first, Taek-joo was taken aback by Hyeok-du’s thug background.

Concerned about how his bitterness might lead to harm or vengeance, Taek-joo was cautious.

But the story he heard deeply shook him.

Especially the life Gwon Hyeok-du lived for his mother, even after death.

The word “mother” held a deep, precious meaning for Taek-joo.

That’s why he could somewhat understand Gwon Hyeok-du.

His heartfelt desire to do everything for his mother.

Just as the words “I’ll help you” were about to escape his mouth…

A sudden thought flashed through his mind— a film script he once enjoyed, Declaration of Freedom.

He felt that Gwon Hyeok-du could be of great help.

Declaration of Freedom was about thugs, and Gwon Hyeok-du was a real thug.

Additionally, Deathjeong in the movie was a sushi chef, so Hyeok-du, who had once been a chef, could teach knife techniques.

“Mr. Gwon Hyeok-du, please get up.”

Hearing Taek-joo’s words, Gwon Hyeok-du slowly rose.

“I’ll help you get through this.”

“Really?”
Gwon Hyeok-du’s hopeful expression quickly shifted to skepticism.
“I don’t trust words. I trust blood. Write a blood oath right now.”
“Where would I get blood to write a blood oath for our precious Taek-joo? Do you want to see my blood first? Huh?”
Jung-hyup smacked Gwon Hyeok-du on the head.

Taek-joo calmed both of them down.

“In return, this is a contract. I’d appreciate it if both Mr. Gwon Hyeok-du and I could do something for each other.”

“What does a thug like me need to do?”
Taek-joo lifted a script from beside him.

“Let’s adjust the script.”

***

A few days later, at night.

Both Taek-joo and Gwon Hyeok-du had hollow eyes.

They sat in a park, rehearsing lines from the Declaration of Freedom.

Taek-joo enthusiastically delivered lines while Gwon Hyeok-du refined the tone and nuances.

“Boss. I can’t do this anymore. I’ll take my mother and leave.”

“The accent is too strong. Do you think this is the 1980s? These days, elite thugs are the trend.”
Taek-joo gave a sharp look, making Gwon Hyeok-du chuckle slightly.

“It’s much better now. Before, you used to speak like some country bumpkin, but now it’s improved.”
‘At least you’re being recognized for your practice. Let’s take a short break.’

Taek-joo put down the script.

“Damn, I always thought actors on TV made easy money, but I completely misunderstood. This is insanely hard!”
‘I’m struggling more, sir. Look at this.’

Taek-joo showed his scarred hands— injuries from daily knife practice.

“You seem to have some basic skill, though.”
‘It’s because you’re coaching weirdly.’

Gwon Hyeok-du shook his head.

“I just don’t get it. When I used to teach kids in the kitchen, they couldn’t understand either.
Run your knife like a galloping horse on a vast plain, feel the power in the back of the blade, and chop cleanly with a smooth motion using the energy from the blade’s sharpness. How am I supposed to understand that?”

“Ah, that’s frustrating. Why can’t you understand it? You just need to follow the knife’s message. Listen to where the knife leads you, and go with it—why can’t you do that?”
‘Is this the difference between a genius and an ordinary person?’

Taek-joo sighed deeply.

Gwon Hyeok-du was a natural genius when it came to the knife.

He knew exactly how to wield it, how to sharpen its edge.

While he could imitate the demeanor and behavior of a thug through practice, his knife skills did not yield results as quickly or as smoothly.

In Declaration of Freedom, Deathjeong was a sushi chef.

He had practiced diligently for the role, honing his skills, but he was still anxious.

“Don’t rush things. Results come with practice.”
‘I just wish I could digest even 30% of what you’re teaching, sir.’

“Ah, there’s a difference in our practice periods, of course. I’ve trained relentlessly to master my knife skills. If I had to count the sweat I’ve shed, I’ve filled probably three buckets.”
‘I know. Effort is the only answer, not dwelling on doubts.’

Taek-joo set aside his scattered thoughts and picked up the script again.

‘Let’s try this part one more time before heading home.’

“You’re quite persistent when it comes to acting. It feels like you’ve rehearsed this scene fifty times.”
‘Because practice is the only way forward.’

***

The awaited Tuesday arrived.

At 10 PM.

Taek-joo walked into a run-down eatery on a dim alley.

An elderly woman cleaning up leftovers glanced up and recognized the familiar face—the lines on her face deepened with age.

“Today’s business is over.”

“Hello, I’m Han Taek-joo. You must be Gwon Hyeok-du’s mother?”

“Yes?”

The woman’s expression shifted uneasily as she met Taek-joo’s gaze.

“Gwon Hyeok-du asked me to come today. He mentioned that it’s your birthday, and I’m here to prepare a birthday meal for you.”

“What are you talking about… Our son is dead. Who are you to know him? And a birthday meal? How did you even know it’s my birthday?”

The elderly woman’s voice grew louder and more distressed.

Taek-joo calmly repeated the practiced lines.

“I had the honor of being helped by Gwon Hyeok-du once. He wanted me to fulfill this wish for you—preparing a birthday meal on your behalf. Please, let me make a meal for you.”

Taek-joo gently held her hands.

“A meal, may I prepare it for you?”

***

At first, Gwon Hyeok-du’s mother was on edge.

But now, she silently watches Taek-joo cooking in the kitchen.

Gwon Hyeok-du gazes at her with a wistful expression, as if he never wants to let her out of his sight.

Soon, Taek-joo finishes cooking and walks out.

“Alright, it’s ready.”

A warm, bountiful spread of rice and dishes is set before them.

A bubbling pot of soybean paste stew, a generous helping of rice, crisply grilled beef skewers, and a bountiful assortment of vegetables.

Taek-joo sat next to the grandmother and handed her a spoon.

The elderly woman examined the food with astonishment.

“Goodness, how well you’ve cooked, young man.”

“I followed exactly what Uncle Hyeok-du told me. I hope it tastes alright.”

The grandmother began to take large spoonfuls, adding the stew, beef, and vegetables one after another without pause.

“It’s delicious.”

The busy hands moving the spoon slowed down gradually.

Eventually, her round eyes began to fill with tears.

“It tastes good. Just right for me. You said you made it just like Hyeok-du told you?”

“Yes.”

“My goodness… these are all my favorite things.”

A tear gently slid down her wrinkled face.

Gwon Hyeok-du quickly wiped away his tears and looked at Taek-joo.

From his pocket, Taek-joo pulled out a piece of paper.

“Oh, and there’s one thing Uncle asked me to pass along to you when I prepared the birthday meal.”

Taek-joo held her hand tightly.

It was a small hand with hardened calluses.

“I know I’ve caused you a lot of pain, Mother. But please, just once, forgive me. I picked up the knife intending to give you comfort, but I fear I’ve caused you suffering. It’s a poor excuse, but my foolish efforts were to try and live well with you.”

His voice cracked with emotion.

“This harsh world, I could endure it because you were with me. Thank you so much for raising me, despite the hardships.”

The grandmother’s eyes grew even more tearful as she listened.

“And… the money I gave you. I know you may not like it, but I’ve tried to gather it all out of love and care for you. So please, accept it. It may be inadequate, but my only wish is for you to live comfortably with it.”

Tears fell unconsciously onto their clasped hands.

Taek-joo glanced at the grandmother briefly.

She was already drowning in tears, wiping them repeatedly with her soaked sleeves.

“Why is money so important, Gwon Hyeok-du? What I wanted was for you to be by my side… you foolish boy.”

At that moment, Gwon Hyeok-du tightly embraced his sobbing mother.

His body trembled as he cried, and at that moment, a radiant light began to shine.

A blinding, burning light filled the restaurant.