Daesung finally managed to get a grip on the slippery whitebait, placing it carefully on the chopping board with both hands as if it were a rare treasure.
With a focused expression, he began cleaning it meticulously, the water from the basin dripping from his sleeves.
Nearby, Sooro watched with an approving nod—until the moment Daesung's back was turned.
Seizing the opportunity, he slowly began inching his way toward the door like a cartoon character sneaking off-stage.
His steps were exaggeratedly quiet, practically tiptoeing past the group.
Jihoon, still sprawled lazily on the large wooden bed with one leg hanging off the side, raised an eyebrow at the sneaky movement.
The moment his eyes locked onto Sooro's back, he knew exactly what was happening.
Sure enough, Sooro turned briefly to make eye contact and pressed his index finger to his lips in a desperate plea: Don't say a word.
Jihoon smiled devilishly. This was too easy.
"Sooro hyung!" he suddenly called out, his voice loud enough to make birds fly from trees, "Where are you going!?"
The room froze for a moment, then all heads turned toward the door.
Caught red-handed, Sooro quickly grabbed a random stack of newspapers from a nearby table and flapped them awkwardly. "Aigoo! Look at my forgetful brain—I just remembered we need something to start the fire! I'll go get it right now!"
Jaeseok raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. "What, your fish isn't flammable enough?" he said dryly.
"I'll be right back," Sooro insisted. "Just going to the bathroom first… and then I'll deal with it!"
But the way his footsteps sped up as he neared the door made it abundantly clear—Sooro was making a break for it.
"He's running!" Jihoon shouted gleefully, sitting up on the bed like a siren alerting the village.
Park Yejin, who had been casually sipping water, immediately stood up. "YA! KIM SOORO!" she yelled and sprinted after him.
Outside, what began as a slow chase quickly turned into a chaotic scramble.
Sooro clutched his stomach and cried out, "Aigoo! My digestion! You don't understand!" as he tried to lose her.
But Yejin wasn't buying it—she cornered him just past the front gate and dragged him back in triumph, his fake limp now completely gone.
Back inside, the group resumed their fish duties. Daesung sighed in relief after finishing his share, and the basin of cleaned whitebait was finally filling up.
"Jihoon!" Hyori called, pointing at the last slippery fish left squirming in the basin. "It's your turn! Come kill one!"
To everyone's surprise, Jihoon didn't argue or whine. He simply got up, dusted off his pants, and slipped on his shoes without protest.
The group exchanged curious looks.
"Wait... he's being cooperative?" Jongshin asked, blinking.
But Jihoon was already muttering to himself as he headed for the door, "It's getting dark... I need to call Taeyeon they all back for dinner."
"Oh-ho!" Jaeseok said knowingly.
Sooro, still panting from his failed escape, immediately grabbed an empty basin and followed. "I'll go too! I'm... worried about Chunhee! Yeah, he might have fallen into a chive hole or something! That guy's always zoning out."
As the two men walked out together, their motives hilariously transparent, the rest of the group stood in silence with matching blank stares.
"Unbelievable..." Hyori muttered.
"Should've just sent them to get the chives from the start," Jaeseok said, shaking his head.
And with that, Jihoon and Sooro vanished down the narrow dirt path—allegedly on a vegetable mission, but in truth, chasing anything but produce.
Their excuses were flimsy, their motives hilariously obvious, but none of that stopped them.
As they walked under the golden hue of the late afternoon sun, the tone shifted slightly.
Sooro, ever the talker, glanced at Jihoon. "You know, people forget sometimes, but I'm actually listed as a Chungmuro actor."
Jihoon gave a polite nod, offering a vague hum of acknowledgment. He'd heard this one before.
"Some people think Chungmuro's just a subway stop," Sooro continued, with a breathless chuckle.
"But in our world, it's like Korea's version of Hollywood. The real deal. The place where legends are made."
Jihoon smiled faintly, more out of amusement than agreement. He let Sooro talk.
"It's not just about fame," Sooro added, growing a little more animated.
"Being called a Chungmuro actor means something. Prestige. Skill. Recognition. You don't get there just by looking good or landing a hit drama. It's about real acting. Real work. Real weight."
That part, Jihoon respected. But he also knew the underbelly that came with it.
What most people didn't see—or didn't want to be see—was that beneath Chungmuro's polished surface lay an ugly mix of corruption, favoritism, and unchecked power.
To the public, they were gods of the screen.
But Jihoon, a man reborn with eyes twenty years ahead of his time and someone who had spent years observing the industry from both the inside and out, knew better.
To him, Chungmuro actors were like a gallery of pre-sentenced prisoners—glorified on screen, yet cloaked in scandals behind the scenes.
Some of the biggest names in the Chungmuro circle carried reputations far darker than their designer tuxedos.
Take Lee Jungjae, for instance.
Once celebrated as a box office titan, he was dogged by rumors of drunk driving and violent behavior.
Whispers claimed that, under the influence, he had once assaulted a female colleague—allegations that somehow never reached the front page.
Even when the media caught wind of it, the story fizzled out as if by design.
What was even more baffling was that none of it affected his career.
In fact, in the years that followed, he was cast in The Acolyte, a Star Wars series, expanding his global fame.
And by 2015, he had begun dating Im Se-ryeong—the ex-wife of none other than Lee Jaeyong, Jihoon's uncle and the real heir to the Samseong conglomerate.
Yet no matter how many transgressions piled up, Chungmuro's backing ensured that the roles and opportunities kept coming for Lee Jungjae, the spotlight never dimmed.
Then there was Yoo Ahin—the youngest actor in Korean history to win the prestigious Blue Dragon Award for Best Actor.
Talented, magnetic, and a critical darling.
But behind the acclaim was a long history of substance abuse. In 2023, he was caught and publicly disgraced.
Yet just two years later, in 2025, he returned to the screen in a major film release, The Match.
In any other industry, a fall from grace like that would've spelled the end.
But Chungmuro wasn't like any other industry.
It followed its own rules.
Its own shields.
Its own gods.
And those shields went beyond fame or skill—they were woven into the fabric of national strategy.
In South Korea, where media and entertainment had become vital pillars of both the national image and economy, actors were no longer seen as mere performers.
They were strategic assets—political instruments, cultural ambassadors, and the carefully crafted faces of national soft power.
The Chungmuro elite weren't merely stars—they were instruments of influence.
And as long as they served the nation's broader agenda, their moral failings were treated not as scandals, but as inconveniences to be "handled."
It was never just about talent. It was about utility. Who you were helping. What image you were preserving. And how replaceable—or irreplaceable—you were to the system.
Jihoon had seen enough to know: that kind of machine didn't elevate people. It consumed them.
To him, Chungmuro wasn't a ladder to climb—it was a trap. Gilded in awards and applause, but no less dangerous.
He wanted no part of it.
As an internationally recognized director, Jihoon didn't need that circle. If anything, the circle needed him.
And more importantly, he believed that fame without moral grounding was a threat—not just to the person, but to the public.
It didn't matter how talented someone was. If they had no accountability, their influence could poison a generation.
Jihoon wasn't about to become the director who enabled that kind of legacy.
He had his own voice. His own path. A vision forged outside of smoky backrooms and away from the whispered promises that sustained Chungmuro's inner circle.
So as Sooro walked beside him, rambling on with admiration in his voice—praising the prestige of Chungmuro like a proud graduate remembering his glory days—Jihoon simply nodded along.
But in his mind, it was already background noise.
Right then, at a bend in the trail, they spotted Taeyeon and Chunhee walking back from the field.
Each carried a basin of freshly picked chives—and curiously enough, both had a small wildflower tucked behind their ears.
Jihoon raised an eyebrow and broke into a grin. "Chunhee-hyung! How could you force Taeyeon to wear that?" he teased, jumping at the chance to cut Sooro off mid-monologue.
Chunhee, true to his absent-minded reputation, pointed at the flower on his ear instead and replied with a bright smile."This is the one Taeyeon gave me."
Before anyone could react, Sooro reached out to pluck the flower from Chunhee's ear.
But Chunhee reacted like a child guarding his favorite toy. He stepped back defensively, shielding his ear and giving Sooro a suspicious look.
"Just let me see it!" Sooro laughed.
"You can see it from there!" Chunhee said, twisting his neck like an owl so the flower was on full display. "Here—look! No touching!"
While they were locked in their little stand-off, Jihoon stepped behind Chunhee and casually plucked the flower off his ear in one smooth motion.
"Ya!" Chunhee yelped, spinning around too late.
Jihoon chuckled and examined the flower. It was just a wild bloom, nothing fancy.
He handed one to Sooro and kept one for himself.
And then—why not?—they both tucked the flowers behind their ears.
The group of four stood there for a beat, a pair of grown men with wildflowers perched awkwardly on their heads like confused springtime mascots.
The silence was deafening.
Jihoon looked over at Sooro and muttered under his breath. "This feels like putting a flower on a cow's horn."
Sooro smirked. "Yeah, except the cow's confused and the flower's wilting."
The four of them burst into laughter.
[Author's Note: Heartfelt thanks to Wandererlithe, Night_Adam, Dooist098135 and Daoistadj for bestowing the power stone!]