Chapter 8: A Star Reborn: The Idol’s Metamorphosis

[Thank goodness you didn’t chew me out. What are you up to right now?]

‘What the hell… Annoying. I’m busy enough reading the script.’

‘Would it kill you to ask everything in one message?’

—”I’m doing a script reading rehearsal.”

‘Look at me, replying sincerely to a junior. What a model senior.’

[Perfect timing! I’m also in the middle of a script reading.]

‘Perfect timing? What exactly is perfect about it?’

— “Okay, then. Good luck with your practice. Fighting.”

Even added an encouraging message for his junior.

Taehun was just about to put his phone down when—

[Don’t hang up. Can you run lines with me?]

[I don’t want to get steamrolled by you again.]

Two more messages came in right after the other.

—”You were doing just fine…”

He started typing, then deleted it all.

And hesitated.

‘I mean, I can’t lie.’

Besides, the role of Kyungjun was the secondary male lead.

That meant he had a lot of scenes with the female lead.

Even though he could do just fine without shadowing practice, It wouldn’t hurt to rehearse in advance with Park Gayun, the actress playing Yeonhee.

‘Should I give her some acting tips then?’

—”Sure. Let me know the time and place.”

[How about next Saturday at 3 PM, Gangnam First Cinema?]

—”Sounds good.”

‘Still, she’s a young actor, practicing hard—how admirable.’

As soon as he sent the last message—ding—a system window popped up.

[Reward available if you beat the senior again next time.]

“Beat me? What the hell is that supposed to mean? This is script practice for the sake of the project. And you were talking about some points or whatever earlier.”

[Would you like an explanation about points?]

“Nope, not interested.”

[Then I’ll guide you through the acting-related rewards.]

“I said I’m not interested.”

Taehun’s firm tone seemed to make the system even more desperate.

[You might change your mind once you hear them.]

Its patience had clearly run out, and it began pouring out explanations.

[Emotion Delivery: Enhances emotional expression.]

[Memorization: Increases speed of memorizing scripts.]

[Vocalization: Improves voice projection and clarity.]

[Facial Expression: Makes your expressions more vivid and nuanced.]

[Ad-libbing: Helps produce appropriate ad-libs in the moment.]

It looked like it would keep going forever if he didn’t stop it, so Taehun cut in.

“Yeah, no thanks. I already do all of that well.”

[Oh! Then this one might be perfect for you.]

[Humility: Increases your likability.]

“Is there a mute mode for you?”

In terms of actor ‘software’, Taehun was already fully loaded.

He was using the body of Lee Jaejun, a completed actor.

[No mute mode available. Oh, then how about these? Here you go—]

[High Alcohol Tolerance: Speeds up alcohol breakdown. Two bottles don’t count.]

[Slow Motion: Makes time feel slower. One hour feels like two.]

[Stamina: Boosts recovery and regeneration speed. Detox included.]

[Flashback: Brief memory recall with a touch. 1 minute limit.]

“There’s really all kinds of crap here. What’s with the little stars next to some of them?”

[Getting curious now, are we? The stars indicate default abilities granted at the time of skill acquisition. The higher the skill level, the stronger the effect.]

“Detox, huh? Then let’s go with stamina.”

[Stamina skill acquired. 100 points deducted. Current points: 201.]

[Stamina: F]

Before the system could even finish talking, thick impurities began oozing out of Taehun’s body.

“Ugh. What the hell is this?”

[Your body is being reset.]

The ringing in his ears vanished, and a strange smell stung his nose.

“What’s that smell?”

[Nicotine and alcohol are being broken down and flushed out of your system. You’ll feel noticeably lighter.]

“What?”

When he looked in the mirror, the dark circles under his eyes were completely gone.

His vision became sharper, like his eyes had finally refocused.

***

After wiping his face with a towel, his naturally clear skin was now positively glowing.

Apparently, nicotine and alcohol had been gunking up every cell in Taehun’s body.

‘Wow… now I actually look like an idol.’

[You are an idol.]

There was no time to admire his upgraded appearance.

‘That awful smell was back again. God, what was that?’

‘I need to take a shower, seriously.’

As he stripped off his clothes, a well-built body was revealed underneath.

“Was my body always like this? This is… weirdly—no, way more defined than before.”

His reflection in the mirror showed a vastly improved physique.

Taehun’s body had originally been on the small side.

Even Jaejun, a lifelong fitness freak, had once described it as a “bony little anchovy with wiry muscles.”

His shoulders used to look especially narrow, lacking that sculpted shoulder blade spread.

Now, though, he had a strong and healthy-looking body—not just skinny but toned.

“This is the kind of body you get after doing twenty pull-ups a day. It’s like I just roided up.”

Despite having fair skin, the low body fat percentage made his muscle definition pop.

The lighting really showed off his sharp contours.

‘I’m still not quite there, but I can bulk up more later.’

Even as he said that, he couldn’t deny that his clothes fit perfectly now.

[Do you like what you see?]

Next, Taehun’s hand went to his hair.

He had only chosen to enhance his stamina, but even his hair looked shinier now.

Now in his twenties again, with enhanced stamina—Taehun was…

“This is insane. This is exactly the kind of young body I wanted. Is this what they call total transformation?”

[I’m glad you like my gift.]

Whether he heard the system or not, Taehun couldn’t stop striking poses in front of the mirror.

***

[Here. Where are you?]

—”Come to the building with Burger Queen on the second floor.”

Gayun’s face was still flushed—probably from her competitive spirit.

‘This time, I will win.’

She opened her phone, which had the script loaded, ready to sneak in one last bit of rehearsal.

‘Oh, right. I already memorized everything.’

She opened the script anyway, but she had gone over it so many times trying not to lose to Taehun that she’d already memorized it all.

Every part of her preparation was aimed at facing Taehun.

Maybe someone would call her obsessive.

But Park Gayun was already recognized as a talented actress.

She refused to let rumors about being outshined by a rookie shake her status now.

He really needed to get here soon if they wanted to get out of this place.

‘Why is he taking so long?’

She was about to call him after waiting exactly five more seconds—when someone suddenly appeared through the crowd.

“Yes. I’m here.”

Gayun looked up and was startled.

“Ta… Taehun?”

Forgetting she was a celebrity herself, she removed her sunglasses and stared at him.

Wearing a plain white t-shirt, it was definitely Ki Taehun.

Except… his body looked even better than before.

And his skin too.

“Wow. Freaking amazing.”

The words slipped out of Gayun’s mouth before she realized it, and she quickly covered it with her hand.

It was understandable.

His looks were already idol-tier, and now he showed up not only with improved acting skills, but a completely transformed physique—what used to be his only weak point.

Even the subtle curves visible through his clothes screamed leading man energy.

‘If I lose out in visuals too, I’m really done for.’

It had only been a few days since the last script reading.

‘Was it even possible for someone to change their aura this much?’

Worried that Taehun might have found her reaction strange, Gayun quickly tried to cover it up.

But Taehun wasn’t paying enough attention to her to notice a small slip-up.

His mind was focused entirely on acting, practice, and the project.

Taehun glanced briefly at Gayun.

Under his gaze, she shrank back.

“Wh-What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

She forced herself to act casual, pretending nothing was wrong.

Maybe he had noticed how anxious she was? He’d looked at her the same way during the last reading too.

“You said we were going to practice the script. Why didn’t you bring it?”

“It’s on my phone. I’ve memorized it anyway.”

A cool, clean response—her trademark style.

But the reason Gayun had called Taehun today wasn’t purely for script practice.

Something about him sparked her competitive streak.

“Of course, I know all the lines. They’re in my head. You must’ve memorized them too, huh?”

‘Is he actually a hard worker?’

[As expected… This must be what a real actor’s world is like.]

She wasn’t sure why the status window was so emotional about this.

‘“Real actor,” my foot. Let’s just watch.’

[Observation mode: ON!!!]

***

“Are we practicing the script here?”

Taehun looked around as he asked.

Gayun was flustered.

‘What? Is he seriously trying to show me up with acting skills right here in public? Show off in front of others?’

Her pride was slightly bruised.

But this man… he was something else.

A regular rookie, no matter how good they were at acting, wouldn’t carry themselves with this kind of composure.

‘What kind of confidence did he have?’

She needed some time to think.

“How about we watch a movie together first? I’ll show you something.”

She needed time to figure out his intentions.

A movie’s runtime would give her just enough to come up with a plan.

But—

“Is watching a movie really necessary? We’re filming a drama, after all.”

Talk about shutting someone down.

Was he trying to crush her completely before she could even gather her thoughts?

Gayun searched for another way to stall but gave up.

“Well… watching how other actors perform can be helpful. For analysis, you know?”

It was a reasonable excuse.

But Taehun didn’t let it go.

“Analyzing while watching, huh? Gayun, you know this too—movies and dramas have different run times, so if we’re going to study roles, wouldn’t it be better to watch a similar youth drama—”

He’d been speaking in short sentences, but the moment it turned into a discussion about acting, he started rambling.

‘Did he genuinely not want to watch a movie?’ Gayun couldn’t tell what his intentions were and grumbled.

“Sure, but… this one has a senior actor in it…”

“There’s something to learn from him. Especially in White in My Mind—Jung Sungha really shines—”

“Jung Sungha? As in Jung Sungha, the CEO of JJ Entertainment?”

Taehun raised his voice in surprise.

Gayun blinked.

“You scared me. You can’t just say Jung Sungha like that. Add ‘senior’ or something! Even if you’ve seen him often in the film circuit.”

“White in My Mind… Is that a new release? Which screen are we going to?”

***

Gayun didn’t know why he suddenly changed his mind, but she smiled triumphantly.

“Just follow me.”

She pulled her hat low over her face and led the way, and Taehun followed closely behind.

During the movie, Taehun watched the screen with intense focus, like he was about to fall into it.

The film was a tearjerker romance where the female lead, Son Yujin, falls deeply in love with Jung Sungha’s character—only to be diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and slowly lose all her memories.

Gayun kept sneaking glances at Taehun, who nodded constantly throughout the film.

‘He’s really analyzing it…’

Even during scenes that had everyone sniffling, he tilted his head in thought.

Especially during the moment when Son Yujin briefly regained her memory and broke down crying—he kept muttering in admiration.

Thanks to that, they drew quite a few annoyed glares from nearby audience members.

Drinking flat cola and absentmindedly eating popcorn, Gayun looked completely drained.

Sure, people are supposed to stay quiet in theaters—but still.

Aside from the occasional unintentional disturbance, Taehun was fully immersed in analyzing the acting.

Even now, he was growing.

‘At this rate… this project is going to eat me alive. I thought my acting was decent… guess I got cocky.’

Gayun tried to think of a way to keep up with him but only ended up feeling defeated.

Meanwhile, Taehun continued deconstructing Jung Sungha’s performance as if he were dissecting it under a microscope.

And Gayun realized something.

Taehun, who seemed like a genius when he acted—was just a fool who lived for acting.

Eventually, the end credits rolled and the lights came on.

The audience slowly began to leave their seats.

Only then did Taehun finally look at Gayun.

“Jung Sungha… he’s really good. Actually, I think he’s even better than before.”

He should have less time to practice now, being more of a company CEO than a working actor.

And yet, his delivery remained polished, his mask as striking as ever, and he had the ability to make any role feel like it was made just for him.