Chapter 424

Translator: NovelBin

When did Kang Woo-jin become "Henry Gordon"? The expansive set was filled with hundreds of foreign crew members, Hollywood actors, executives, and staff from Columbia Studios.

*Clack!*

The first slate.

“Action.”

From the first command given by Director Ahn Ga-bok to mark the official start of filming, Kang Woo-jin became “Henry Gordon.” The opening scene of *Joker: Birth of a Villain* had begun. Hundreds of eyes and ears were focused on Woo-jin.

Everyone's thoughts varied.

“If he can show even half the intensity from his audition and screen test, there's nothing to worry about.”

“I wonder if the hype he built during the script reading was genuine or just a show?”

“He’s as calm as ever, even on the first day. All these people came to gauge his acting—how will he respond?”

Everyone had their reasons, but they all had one unified expectation.

“Show us your acting.”

Woo-jin stepped into the artificial rain, dressed in a black hoodie and jeans. He was fully transformed into “Henry Gordon,” releasing the character into reality. “Henry Gordon” mixed with the grittiness and fragility of a soldier.

At this moment, Woo-jin’s restraints were completely released. Without the gradual emotional buildup from the earlier parts of the script, he was channeling Henry Gordon’s dark sense of joy.

He was Henry Gordon, completely.

The crowd, cameras, boom mics, and lights above him vanished from Woo-jin's view. Even the artificial rain felt real. Everything around him merged with the reality of his character’s mind. And so, Woo-jin continued his performance as Henry Gordon.

With hunched shoulders and twisted posture, he stood on the edge.

*Bang! Bang! Bang!*

Woo-jin casually enacted his first kill, accompanied by a twisted grin. Several more shots rang out as the camera moved slowly alongside him, capturing him holding a gun in one hand.

*Phuu—*

Exhaling a peculiar breath, he lifted his head toward the ceiling, closing his eyes. Somewhere in the background, classical music began playing from an unmuted TV, fueling Woo-jin’s transformation further.

The Joker was awakening.

The more intense the music became, the more twisted Woo-jin’s expression grew. Lowering his head, he opened his eyes, his grin deepening.

With another rumble of thunder, lightning illuminated the dim pizza shop, and Woo-jin abruptly sneezed.

*Phew!*

The flour on his face caused it. He casually tossed the gun onto a nearby table, keeping an unaffected expression, perfectly immersed in the space.

As he took a step forward, he nearly slipped, barely regaining his balance by gripping the heavy “meat” sprawled on the floor. The camera zoomed in on his slightly widened eyes—a momentary “mistake” and nothing more.

This natural yet haunting presence was unmistakably Henry Gordon.

But none of this was scripted.

“...Wait, were those actions, like the sneeze or the slip, even part of the scene?”

“Damn, he’s seamlessly enhancing the details with such natural expression.”

Actors who had come to gauge Woo-jin found themselves captivated.

The Joker’s dark presence filled the air, becoming eerily real. A unique Hollywood actor among the crowd, Chris Hartnett, was especially struck, his brown eyes shifting between amusement and awe.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

“Just look at that... He had something even deeper than what he showed at the audition. Each movement he makes carries such tension. Damn, what kind of actor is he?”

Meanwhile, director Ahn Ga-bok, with a solemn expression and headphones on, watched the monitors intently, taking in Woo-jin’s performance with an unwavering gaze. He was the only one on set unaffected by Woo-jin’s presence, aware of the actor's true capability.

“Don’t see this as an audience. Look through a director’s eyes.”

Having experienced Woo-jin’s ability to completely embody a character in *Leech*, he knew that even a single glance away would risk being pulled into Woo-jin’s performance.

The performance was both thrilling and intimidating.

“This acting has expanded the scene’s depth tenfold.”

The executive producer, observing Woo-jin’s every move beside Director Ahn, broke into a smile.

“If the writer of *Joker: Birth of a Villain* saw this, he might have burst into tears. Was this improvisation, or did he plan it? Either way, making him the Joker was the right choice.”

Soon after:

“Cut.”

Director Ahn stood, signaling a change in setup. The scene was not an NG but a camera adjustment. Behind him, the crowd of hundreds of foreigners released their held breaths, breaking into murmurs of awe.

In the pizza shop set, Woo-jin held out a hand to the massive actor lying on the floor.

“Here, take my hand.”

The actor, covered in blood and flour, accepted his hand, still bewildered.

“Thank you.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

The actor seemed dazed, struck by how Woo-jin snapped out of character so quickly.

A team of foreign staff rushed into the pizza shop set, resetting it for the next shot. Soon enough:

“Action.”

Woo-jin entered the pizza shop under pouring rain again. They repeated the scene at least five times, with slight adjustments each time.

An hour passed before they finally completed the initial shot list.

Among the foreign actors observing, someone remarked, “The way he stayed ‘decent’ during the script reading... it was the real deal.”

“Yes, I didn’t expect such a huge difference—”

“Woo-jin’s acting... it doesn’t even feel like acting. It’s as if we’re watching the real Henry Gordon.”

Soon after, Woo-jin and the director discussed the next scene, with the massive Hollywood actor joining them.

“Woo-jin, feel free to act however you want. Anything you need?”

Looking down at the floor, Woo-jin responded, “Could we get a bit more flour on the floor?”

“Flour?”

“Yes.”

After the floor was sprinkled with more flour, everyone else cleared out, leaving Woo-jin, the actor, and the cameras in the pizza shop set. Moments later, Director Ahn’s signal sounded again.

“Action.”

The heavy-set actor, now playing the “meat” on the floor, lay sprawled out. Woo-jin, as Henry Gordon, stepped over him, the camera following as he approached the table with the TV.

*♬♪*

The classical music volume doubled, nearly drowning out the thunder. Woo-jin raised his hands, sweeping back his flour-caked hair. His face, painted white with patches of blood, faced the camera head-on as he took a deep breath.

“Phuuu—hahaha!”

Laughter spilled from him, his mouth stretched into a ghastly grin.

He began dancing, twisting his body to the classical music. His movements were a chaotic blend of smooth waves and abrupt pauses. At one point, he leaped over the “meat” on the floor, and he even kicked it lightly mid-dance.

Gradually, he took on the demeanor of a mad clown. Glancing down at the “meat” he had kicked, he offered a simple apology.

“Sorry.”

Embracing the music, Woo-jin let out an ecstatic laugh.

“This feeling—this freedom.”

The image of the monstrous clown dancing to classical music was both beautiful and horrifying, caught vividly by the camera. But then Woo-jin froze, spotting something underfoot.

“Oh.”

He noticed a shattered beer bottle and scattered cards, one of which was stained with blood. He picked it up and grinned at the “JOKER” card, which had a mischievous-looking clown drawn on it.

“JOKER? I like it.”

The scene, according to the script, was supposed to end here. The actors and Director Ahn were about to call “cut” when Woo-jin continued.

“Hm?”

Even though the scene had ended, Woo-jin didn’t stop. Chris Hartnett and the actors exchanged puzzled looks.

“What’s he doing?”

Curious, Director Ahn observed.

Woo-jin wiped the blood from the card, making the clown on it clearer. Then he turned, finding a cracked mirror on the wall. With the card in one hand, he inspected his own reflection.

They looked similar—the clown on the card and the reflection in the mirror. Yet, something was missing. Woo-jin took another handful of flour from a nearby table and smeared it over his face until he was completely white.

Turning back to the actor’s body on the floor, Woo-jin dipped his fingers in the blood and returned to the mirror. His fingers stained with blood, he slowly traced his eyebrows, the space around his eyes, and even added a large red dot at the tip of his nose.

He pressed his blood-slick fingers to his lips, creating a grotesque, exaggerated smile across his face.

Seeing the final result, Woo-jin chuckled.

“Perfect.”

Looking straight into the camera, he stashed the card in his hoodie pocket, placed both fingers at the corners of his blood-painted smile, and beamed.

“Magnificent.”

A single tear traced down his cheek.

Watching this, Chris Hartnett and the foreign crew members stared at the monitors, speechless, as one thought floated through Chris’s mind:

“That trophy is his.”

The image of the “Academy Award” shimmered in his mind.