Chapter 46.
Kwak Sang-hyuk's eyes twitched, and his Adam's apple bobbed visibly.
Jeong Jik-han continued speaking.
"If your life's meaning was movies, I think you held your ground well enough there."
"……"
"Anything beyond that result, anything beyond that meaning? I don’t think it’s my place to judge or even consider."
"……"
"But surely... it must have meant something to the Korean film industry."
Kwak Sang-hyuk's eyes grew moist.
He looked up at the ceiling, cleared his throat, and then laughed hollowly.
"I’ve often noticed this while watching you talk with other guests, but you truly are remarkable."
"Huh?"
"You speak so well. Comforting someone with words... I guess this is what it feels like."
"I’m just being honest about what I feel."
Kwak Sang-hyuk pressed his lips together and said nothing.
Jeong Jik-han spoke again.
"You once said it yourself, didn’t you? That living as a perfectionist obsessed with details is exhausting."
"Yes. I did."
"Even if their lives are exhausting, I don’t want to say they’re wrong."
"……"
"Isn’t it because of people like them that culture evolves, certain fields grow deeper, and history is made?"
Kwak Sang-hyuk closed his eyes and seemed lost in thought.
After a while, as if some of the lingering regrets in his heart had faded, he spoke with a slight smile.
"Then... perhaps my life had some meaning after all."
"Yes. Your significance is surely embedded in the film industry. Without a doubt."
"……"
"If there were more people like you, Mr. Kwak, perhaps all those meanings and intentions would one day accumulate into something greater."
"……"
"Perhaps one day, your significance will become the cornerstone of a monumental outcome."
Instead of answering, Kwak Sang-hyuk nodded repeatedly.
He then gulped down the remaining cold coffee in one go and said,
"I talked too much, and now my coffee's gone cold."
"Ah..."
"I probably can’t drink much more, but could I trouble you for an espresso?"
Refilling coffee was Jeong Jik-han’s prerogative, but he wasn’t sure if he should offer it to him.
If Kwak Sang-hyuk didn’t achieve enlightenment after drinking the coffee, he might become a target for evil spirits outside.
To prevent that, Jeong Jik-han would have to accompany him to his lodging...
But would Kwak Sang-hyuk agree?
Seeing Jeong Jik-han hesitate, Kwak Sang-hyuk spoke first.
"I mean no harm. I just want one more cup to prepare myself mentally."
In that case...
Instead of arguing, Jeong Jik-han walked over to the coffee machine and pulled an espresso shot.
The small cup of espresso was smaller than the palm of his hand.
As he handed the fragrant and rich liquid to Kwak Sang-hyuk, the latter gazed at it and said,
"I... really loved movies."
"Just hearing you speak makes me realize how much you loved them and how sincere you were."
Kwak Sang-hyuk smiled faintly as he sipped the espresso, then looked at Jeong Jik-han and spoke softly.
"Jeong Jik-han... I think you’ll become a great actor."
"Thank you for saying that."
Seeing Jeong Jik-han look awkward, Kwak Sang-hyuk smiled faintly and asked,
"What do you think are the essential qualities and virtues of an actor?"
"Hmm..."
Although he was active as an actor, Jeong Jik-han had never deeply considered what it meant to be one.
When he hesitated to answer, Kwak Sang-hyuk chuckled lightly and said,
"An actor who doesn’t know the qualities of an actor?"
"I’m sorry. That’s embarrassing."
Kwak Sang-hyuk waved his hand dismissively as if he wasn’t blaming him.
"Haha, I didn’t mean it like that. Don’t take it too seriously."
"When the director says something like that, it makes me feel guilty for no reason."
Kwak Sang-hyuk smiled contentedly as he propped his chin on one hand and looked at Jeong Jik-han.
"Others might think differently, but I believe it’s about cold analysis of characters and empathy—understanding them deeply."
Cold analysis and understanding...
Seeing Jeong Jik-han listening intently, Kwak Sang-hyuk took a deep breath and continued.
"After talking with you, I really think you have what it takes to be a great actor."
"...Thank you."
"Is acting... enjoyable for you?"
To be honest... it’s fun.
When acting in front of the camera, even briefly, it felt like escaping from my exhausting life and becoming someone else entirely.
That sense of liberation and deviation... exhilarated Jeong Jik-han.
When he shared these thoughts openly, Kwak Sang-hyuk flicked his finger as if pointing at him.
"That’s something you’re born with. So many people have camera anxiety."
"Really?"
"Plus, you have the face and proportions for it, don’t you? That’s a rare blessing."
Jeong Jik-han clenched his lips and found himself reconsidering the profession of acting.
His younger sibling, his mother—everyone had always said acting suited him.
The phrase "suits him."
He’d forgotten just how valuable and significant that was.
As Jeong Jik-han fell silent, lost in thought, Kwak Sang-hyuk gazed out the window and murmured to himself.
"Lastly... I’d like to see Titanic."
"……"
"If I go up there, will I be able to watch it?"
Kwak Sang-hyuk, steeped in melancholy.
Was he reflecting on his life and the meaning it held?
Though unsure of Kwak Sang-hyuk’s thoughts, Jeong Jik-han decided to wait until his heart found peace.
Ding—
[You have heard the story of the deceased Kwak Sang-hyuk. 10 auspicious tokens have been provided.]
[Tales of the Deceased – 11]
A message from the Arhat floated before his eyes.
Unknowingly, he’d now heard the stories of 11 lives.
Each pursued different goals, lived different lives.
Their lingering attachments varied; their resentments were equally diverse.
They say life is a comedy from afar and a tragedy up close.
Yet when given lives end and their final journeys begin, they are neither tragedies nor comedies.
As the saying goes, each life is a piece of literature—a story, a diary.
What place do tragedy and comedy have in a diary?
A record of days faced, of life as it was lived.
It was neither more nor less than that.
Soon after, a faint light began to swirl from Kwak Sang-hyuk’s heart.
Jeongjikhan recognized the time had come and spoke with a gentle smile.
“Director, up there, you’ll be able to watch all the movies you want to your heart’s content.”
“I’m not sure if I’ll be able to go to a good place.”
“This is the Café of the Departed. Any guest here will surely go to a good place.”
Perhaps comforted by Jeongjikhan’s small gesture, Kwak Sang-hyuk downed his espresso in one gulp and remarked,
“The aroma of espresso is splendid, but its taste is bitter. Is human life like this too?”
Kwak Sang-hyuk had compared his life to a single cup of espresso.
Hoping his final path would not be bitter but peaceful, he recommended a menu item.
“Shall I prepare a sweet barley tea for your last drink?”
“Yes. Let my final journey be sweet.”
Jeongjikhan entered the kitchen, steeped the barley tea, and handed it to Kwak Sang-hyuk when the flavor had fully infused.
“Your barley tea is ready.”
“The fragrance alone is wonderful.”
“I added a hint of honey. It’ll help you sleep and suit your taste.”
“Thank you, Jeongjikhan.”
Kwak Sang-hyuk gulped the warm barley tea and exhaled a faint breath.
The soft light that had begun in his heart now enveloped his entire body before vanishing in a bright flash.
The falling specks of faint light became his final ending credits.
Ding—!
[The Departed Kwak Sang-hyuk Has Achieved Enlightenment.]
[Kwak Sang-hyuk, whose life faded like evening twilight, deeply lamented the film industry he devoted himself to entering its own twilight years.]
[Jeongjikhan reminded him that the meaning of his pursued works was now heading in a new direction.]
[A reward is granted to Jeongjikhan of KarMa Entertainment for aiding his enlightenment.]
[1,000 Gil (Fortune) has been awarded.]
Whether famous or obscure, there would always be those who sought out Kwak Sang-hyuk’s works and remembered him.
As long as his works remained in someone’s memory…… their meaning would endure.
Jeongjikhan stretched and walked to the right-side machine.
Perhaps overwhelmed by too many stories, he brewed an Americano to clear his hazy mind.
Could even Jeongjikhan’s life hold some small meaning for someone in this moment?
Whoosh—
Black smoke suddenly materialized before Jeongjikhan’s eyes.
Startled, he nearly dropped the mug in his hand.
“So here you are, Jeongjikhan.”
“Deputy Cha?”
The figure emerging from the smoke was Deputy Cha Yewon of KarMa Entertainment Team 1—her speech now archaic from binge-watching historical dramas.
She radiated inexplicable urgency.
She hadn’t come to learn coffee brewing……
Cha Yewon scanned the café and abruptly barked at the patrons:
“All of you—move to the corners!”
At her sudden command, the departed exchanged bewildered glances but complied silently, as orders from underworld officials were absolute.
Cha Yewon addressed Jeongjikhan and the café guests:
“The Great Kings of the Underworld will arrive shortly. Turn your heads away.”
“The Great Kings of the Underworld?”
Seeing Jeongjikhan’s dazed expression, Cha Yewon raised her voice sharply:
“Anyone who locks eyes with them will be dragged to the underworld! Do not turn or look!”
The patrons trembled as they faced the walls.
‘What’s happening?’
As Jeongjikhan froze, Cha Yewon stared directly at him:
“You too, Jeongjikhan.”
“Me? But…… is their visit even permitted here?”
“Didn’t you pledge to help Team Leader Cha?”
“……I did.”
“The Great Kings wish to hear your counsel firsthand.”
Since Jeongjikhan couldn’t enter the underworld, its rulers were coming to him?
Even if this café straddled the boundary between life and death, how could such beings be allowed?
‘Will they destroy this place? What becomes of me?’
As anxiety gripped him—
Creak… creak…
A 4-meter-wide gate materialized before him, slowly creaking open.
Remembering the warning, he clenched his eyes shut.
Squelch… squelch…
The wet footsteps near his ears weren’t from a single pair—easily a dozen or more.
Had the Kings brought their entourage?
Scorching heat and paralyzing cold coexisted in the air.
Each King exuded a presence befitting their underworld dominion.
Jeongjikhan nervously licked parched lips and swallowed—
“Who here is called Jeongjikhan?”
The voice carved itself into his skull.
The speaker representing all Kings needed no introduction—this could only be Yeomra, King of the Dead.
Jeongjikhan cautiously raised his right hand.
“I am Jeongjikhan.”
A sulfurous stench tickled his nostrils—was this the underworld’s scent or the Kings’ aura?
No matter. He focused on answering truthfully.
“Did you instruct Chae Seung-pyo to violate our laws?”
Jeongjikhan tensed his body against trembling.
“I never told him to break the underworld’s rules.”
“Then you claim he defied our decrees of his own volition?”
“That’s not what I—”
“SILENCE!!!”
The repeated denials summoned an icy aura piercing his bones.
Instinct screamed that Yeomra’s patience had already snapped during earlier proceedings—hence this confrontation.
Yeomra’s voice dripped lethal intent.
“You dare play word games before me?”
“I’m not—”
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘NOT’?!”
The roar slammed into Jeongjikhan like a physical force.
Not fear, but crushing gravity compressed his lungs, brain, organs—
The world spun despite closed eyes.
So this is why Chae Seung-pyo panicked.
He recalled their conversation:
“Would you say this before Yeomra himself?”
Now he understood.
Yeomra wasn’t one for dialogue—only punishment.
A being who enforced laws, never negotiated them.
