I Don’t Want to Play Villains Anymore - Chapter 47
The end of the era always comes suddenly.
I took a breath.
Slowly.
Exactly six seconds.
The bl**d-stiffened collar of the shirt was tightening around my neck.
Everything in front of me was blurred, and the bandage wrapped around my arm was pressing roughly against my skin.
The smoky, dimly lit hallway.
With the lights shining somewhere cold, I slowly lowered my posture.
Pizza sauce on the floor. Flattened uniform buttons. A fallen backpack. And—
The camera was approaching Ral’s eyes.
“Haneul. We’re going for the closing shot now. No dialogue. Just your gaze.”
I heard Ji-woo’s Shin Sound, but now I didn’t need to answer.
I was an actor.
I slowly raised my head.
I felt time slowly turning in my mind.
At the end of the hallway, Jun-gi was leaning against the wall with trembling hands.
His toes pointed towards him.
My heart was racing. This was not the heartbeat of reality, but the heart of Baek Cheong-ha within ‘The Era of Fighting.’
“It wasn’t a trap, it was a matter of justice.”
I had to convey that feeling.
I took a step towards Ral.
Saet.
Dust from the hallway shattered at my toes.
The camera followed me. It slowly swept over my chin, lips, and eyes.
Breathing felt like acting.
A sound of something breaking echoed from behind.
It was part of the set, and no one was paying attention.
This scene was as if I was the only one in the entire world.
I stood in the middle of the hallway. A broken desk and a metal locker. And very slowly, I turned my body.
Slowly.
The end of this fight was not glamorous. It was serene.
The expression on the face of Ippa was not triumph but emptiness.
A boredom that only those who have reached the peak can feel.
I remembered that emptiness, that gaze, that face.
The camera approached very close.
The last sound.
I stopped.
And without opening my mouth, I smiled very small.
Light seeped over my bl**d-stained face.
There was no sound.
Instead, a quiet breath.
Ji-woo quietly inhaled, exhaled, and said.
“…Cut.”
It felt like I was going to choke.
Ral could breathe again because of those words.
Immediately followed by bursting applause, the exclamations of the staff, “That was amazing!”
Someone even showed tears, and Jae-hyeon silently stood and patted Ral on the shoulder.
It was then that I finally closed my eyes.
Baek Cheong-ha slowly drifted away from me.
Just like a puff of smoke.
“Goodbye. You worked hard.”
Unlike Suha and the other roles, Ral didn’t linger deeply in my memory.
We spent too short a time together, and it was more about the experience than deep acting.
But strangely, those words echoed in my head.
The character Baek Cheong-ha left me.
I remained.
And quietly exhaled a breath in the empty set.
The Era of Fighting thus came to an end.
.
.
.
After the last episode of The Era of Fighting aired, every corner of the internet was eerily quiet.
Of course, on the surface, it was noisy.
Posts poured in like a waterfall, and on the trending charts, keywords like ‘The Era of Fighting,’ ‘Baek Ha-neul comeback expectation,’ and ‘End interpretation’ shot up.
Community forums buzzed with speculation, theories about the ending, debates about the author’s intentions lined up in a row.
And yet strangely, it felt like an invisible silence was settling somewhere.
– Is this how it ends???
– No, why leave such breadcrumbs and not have an ending?
– The ending was so empty.
– It’s just a high school drama. The direction is good, but the script is immature.
– I liked it. This feeling is stronger.
‘The Era of Fighting’ didn’t give a definite answer.
Jae-hyun’s past, the sigh that Cheong-ha let out at the end,
Even that strange sense of closure that lingered until the uniforms were taken off after filming.
They all just slipped away.
There was no announcement that the story had ended.
Not even the common ‘Preview for Season 2.’
Only the final scene, Cheong-ha in front of the broken school gate. The fluttering flower petals. And the camera quietly stopped.
Ah, that’s where it ended.
First-time viewers were dumbfounded, second-time viewers finally tilted their heads, and third-time viewers fell silent.
That silence was not an outpour of emotions but the vacuum state after feelings.
– Ah, please interpret this… What is this?
– In the last cut, Jun-gi’s frozen expression… that was intentional, right?
– But what does that line mean? The world is results?
– It feels like Baek Cheong-ha has a plan.
Some spread theories,
Some shared the director’s S-qualities and began ‘breadcrumb interpretations.’
But the director himself was silent.
Neither the actors nor the production team spoke.
No one said anything.
That itself was the conclusion.
What’s interesting is what happened next.
Those who grasped the interpretations were the viewers.
From YouTube posts to Instagram reels, TikTok, and anonymous communities.
This video, this ending, was it meant to be this way?
‘I’m not sure if I hate this’ and ‘I’m not sure if I like this.’
They were fighting in different languages.
At the same time, they were watching the same video again.
That was the ‘Era of Fighting.’
The story had ended, but the battle had just begun.
Jae-hyun lost to Cheong-ha, but she never revealed what path she took afterward.
Jun-gi knelt but whether that was surrender or preparation for the next step, no one knew.
One thing was certain.
This drama had no answers, and the interpretations were up to the audience.
Thus, everyone, while cursing in unison,
Still rewatches that scene again and again.
Wondering what this is, they continue to search for the next episode.
Calling it disappointing, they look for the soundtrack link, reminisce about Cheong-ha’s gaze, and create edited videos.
So indeed, this was a success.
It left an impression.
It induced discussion.
It generated a lot of talk.
It became a story that continued even after it had ended.
Some said.
Was it aimed at a narrative masterpiece?
– Maybe the creators are true geniuses…
And that post had already surpassed five thousand likes.
Strangely, even while being scolded,
This drama was spreading.
In other words, The Era of Fighting was not a ‘highly completed drama.’
Rather, it was an experiment that threw away the feeling of incompletion itself.
And many viewers were pulled into that emotion without realizing it.
Now, no one passes by the name ‘Haneul’ casually.
Now, no one calls director ‘Ji-woo’ a high school student anymore.
Now, they just await the next story of the two.
The fight was over, but the next page had not yet unfolded.
So viewers are
Seeing that last scene.
That last line.
Watching it again.
“The world is results.”
Not knowing that those words were simply Haneul’s soliloquy.
“Something. It’s funny.”
“Is that so? Jae-hyun, junior?”
Haneul looked at Jae-hyun with a slightly perplexed smile.
Pretty, but it felt like he wanted to hit her hard – Jae-hyun was overtaken by that thought.
“…Ha. The fact that I couldn’t win a single fight is funny, but this situation right now, Haneul’s nonsense.”
Haneul slowly leaned back and sat against the window frame of the hallway.
The corners of her mouth are up, but that face is saying nothing.
“That’s the condition of a masterpiece, junior Jae-hyun.”
What is she talking about? This woman.
Jae-hyun silently looked at her.
For a moment, thinking that she seemed serious today.
“A masterpiece?”
“Yeah.”
“That meaningful tone is a bit annoying, you know?”
Jae-hyun chuckled and tossed the script on the floor.
The sound of the paper hitting the ground was lighter than the thought.
That meant it was unrealistically quiet at this moment.
Haneul still doesn’t drop her gaze.
“Junior Jae-hyun. Can you just, for once, tell me honestly?”
“Sure?”
“This work, what do you think?”
At those words, Jae-hyun was silent for a while.
His breath slowed. His eyes didn’t move.
Haneul probably knew that this question was the only sincere sentence she had uttered today.
And Jae-hyun knew that too.
“It’s a well-made work.”
More than any other work that has been released recently to boost recognition.
This drama was enjoyable to film while laughing with the juniors.
“But?”
“It’s emptily disappointing.”
The downside was that he couldn’t interpret the ending himself.
“Right.”
Haneul couldn’t hold back her laughter.
“Wow, it’s so disappointing. Hahaha.”
“Really. I thought I could win, but I lost again. And afterward, the ending was just lonely.”
“That’s life, junior.”
“Ha, that must have been frustrating…”
Jae-hyun slumped down, running his fingers through his hair.
Light spilled in from the corner of the hallway through the still-standing lighting equipment.
Dust swirled, and the camera was off, making it strangely… more cinematic.
“When did you stop trying to win…?”
“…Huh?”
“When you didn’t try to win.”
It wasn’t about the script.
It was probably about the domination of acting while filming.
Haneul tilted her head slightly.
The shadow obscured her eyes.
“If I’m being honest, that must be scary.”
“Anyway, it’s over now.”
A moment of silence.
And.
“It was from the beginning.”
“Really?”
“I’ve never acted to ‘win’ over someone. I’ve always let someone go.”
Villains exist to shine the protagonists.
Haneul was always the light for someone.
“But you kept winning.”
Simply because she shone too much, she received everyone’s hatred.
“That’s… the role of Ral.”
Saying that, Haneul stood up.
Her gaze still looked like someone else’s. The remnants of Cheong-ha lingered.
Jae-hyun quietly watched her and suddenly said.
“You’re scary, Haneul.”
“Why?”
“I’ve never seen you act sincerely.”
At that words, Haneul paused.
And again, she smiled. This time, it was a genuine smile.
Like she was looking at someone who could see her as she is.
“If so, you might not see it for the rest of your life.”
“That’s kind of unfair.”
“A good actor is someone who feels unfair.”
“What a profound saying. Where did you hear that from?”
“No. I just made it up now.”
“…Ha.”
Haneul walked away. To the end of the hallway,
She passed through the completely removed equipment, through the shadows that flickered and faded.
Jae-hyun watched her back.
“Haneul.”
Haneul stopped. She didn’t turn back.
“Really, you were amazing. During filming.”
At those words, Haneul slowly lifted her head and looked into the void.
There was no camera. No script.
Only herself remained.
Yet, she smiled with Cheong-ha’s gaze.
“Thank you, junior.”
After those words, from beyond the hallway,
Without someone shouting ‘Cut!’
‘The Era of Fighting’ thus came to an end.