Chapter 14
A cliff is a great escape route. An excellent means of survival.
Even as he faced Im So-han’s dumbfounded expression, Yeon-hwi was unapologetic.
In the past, he’d often used cliffs as primary escape routes, so the idea of cliffs equating to death had never occurred to him.
On the contrary—cliffs erased your trail and made it easier to slip from an enemy’s eyes. They were perfect exits.
But…
Guess I wasn’t thinking this through…
In stories, characters who fell off a cliff often came back alive—
but that was usually for the main leads or important supporting roles.
Yeon-hwi might be getting attention now as an assassin character, but he was still a bit part.
If he fell off a cliff, would he really get to live?
“R-right! It wouldn’t make sense for a character in a story to die from falling off a cliff!”
Im So-han quickly forced a smile.
There was no way this hyung didn’t know that.
Even in a situation like this, he’d shown up without complaint to rehearse.
Like a pro.
Could he have done the same if their roles were reversed?
If you’d never had something to begin with, you wouldn’t miss it. But once given and taken away, the sense of loss was worse.
Honestly, So-han wasn’t sure he could handle it.
When we shoot… are they actually gonna make me fall?
Whether Yeon-hwi realized how bright-eyed So-han was looking at him or not,
he himself was just wondering how they’d film the cliff scene.
Before long, their car pulled up at the action school.
As they stepped out, So-han walked slightly ahead, his face bright.
But…
“This isn’t usually a busy time.”
The moment he opened the action school’s practice room door, his expression clouded.
Bang! Thud!
The sound of people hitting mats.
Clang! Clang!
Weapons clashing, followed by bursts of focused shouts.
The action school’s training hall was split into several zones, all full of people sweating bullets.
“Should we come back later?”
“No, we should do it. We have a booking.”
So-han’s voice was firm, but the corners of his lips twitched ever so slightly.
He had reserved the earliest morning slot—when the place was supposed to be empty—to avoid distractions.
He’d even double-checked for any overlapping reservations.
“I thought it’d be fine…”
Yeon-hwi could guess what that mutter meant.
He’d booked the quietest possible time for a reason.
“Hyung, warm up. I’m gonna get ready in the locker room.”
Forcing a smile, So-han stepped away. Left alone, Yeon-hwi stood in the center of the hall.
Stretching his arms up and twisting his waist, he scanned the room.
“Don’t lock your arms, you’ll get hurt! Loosen up! Watch your opponent!”
“Yes! Going again!”
The thuds, the clashing, the shouts…
Number 16, why are you still on the ground? You want to die here?!
P-please… just let me go home…
This was his first time in an action school, but the heat in the air felt familiar.
It was like the heat he’d felt in training camps, living as Pilyeon…
No. It’s not the same.
He shook his head hard, chasing the thought away.
The heat here came from people chasing the dream of acting—
not from soldiers drilled to obey cold orders and carry out missions.
Even for just a moment, comparing the two made him feel ashamed.
“I’m ready to start.”
Hearing So-han’s voice behind him, Yeon-hwi snapped out of his thoughts.
A little ways off, So-han was stretching while wiping down with a wet tissue.
It’s fine. It’s fine.
He pretended to be unfazed, but this martial arts zone was an open space,
and every gaze felt like it was stabbing him in the back.
“Haa…”
After finishing his stretches, So-han carefully realigned the mat parallel to the wall.
Then he took a prop sword and meticulously wiped the blade before placing it in the rack—
all handles facing the same way, at exactly the same angle.
At first, he kept glancing at Yeon-hwi, but soon he was lost in his own little world.
By the time he was done…
“Again…?”
So-han let out a hollow laugh and shook his shoulders.
To display this kind of compulsive behavior in a shared training space…
what would all these people think?
Yeon-hwi might not care, but the others surely would.
He’d come today hoping for better action than last week…
“This isn’t good… Sorry, hyung. I’ll wrap up quick.”
Yeon-hwi looked at him with the same calm eyes as always.
“It’s your routine. No need to explain it.”
“Routine? What do you mean…?”
“Just do it the way you always do. I’ll do it my way too.”
To Yeon-hwi, So-han overlapped with an old colleague—
a guy who lived in a messy home but became obsessively tidy during missions.
That colleague overcame the constant shadow of death with compulsive cleaning,
sometimes even rearranging other people’s rooms and causing trouble.
As long as the result’s good, no one cares about the shadows.
He’d always completed missions flawlessly.
Compared to him, So-han’s quirks felt almost mild.
“So… just the way I always do it?”
“Routines are good. Wipe the swords, line the mats—do what you need. Just tell me when you’re ready.”
Meeting Yeon-hwi’s unwavering brown gaze, So-han felt as if he’d been smacked in the head.
Calling his compulsions a routine…
He was the lead, and Yeon-hwi was just a bit part, yet those words felt like a pillar of support.
“Just the way I always do.”
He closed his eyes, then opened them, settling into position.
Do things the way he always did, and hyung would handle the rest.
“Alright—just the way I always do!”
Peeling off his latex gloves, So-han grabbed the prop sword,
all his nerves focused on the hard sensation in his grip.
It was unpleasant—like a bug crawling up his arm—but he stayed in stance,
telling himself this was just part of the routine.
“Hyung! I’m ready. Go all out!”
Yeon-hwi slowly lifted his own blade.
“Here I come. Hold it tight.”
Whoosh!
Clang!
“Argh—!”
The blade cut through the air and slammed into his guard,
sending pain buzzing through his hands and the sword flying away.
“If you drop your sword in a fight, you die. Hold it properly.”
“Y-yes!”
He shook off the pain with a shout and picked the sword up again.
Whoosh!
Clang!
“Ghh—”
Again, the shock jarred his hands and the sword slipped away.
“Not much time. Just grip it well and we’ll run through it.”
What followed was pure agony for So-han.
Yeon-hwi’s sword wasn’t too fast or too slow,
but it hit with the weight of a truck.
All So-han could do was focus on not dropping his weapon.
“Not doubting you, hyung, but… it’s been a while and I still haven’t—”
“If you grip it right, using it’s easy. Here I come.”
Clang!
Pain shot through his arms again.
By now, the creepy bug-crawling sensation had vanished—
he didn’t even have time to wipe the hilt with tissues.
“Lower your stance when you grip.”
Clang!
“Keep your shoulders still when lifting your arms. Use your legs to lower your center.”
Claang!
He wasn’t just swinging mindlessly—
he was adjusting force and speed so So-han could learn the basics.
It was the same method Yeon-hwi had once used to train juniors in Pilyeon—
though back then, the strikes had been far harder.
Whoosh!
Clang! Clang!
Did I do something wrong to hyung? No… yeah, I probably did. Took up too much of his practice time…
Unwanted self-reflection crept in.
He’s picking this up quick. A lead’s still a lead. Let’s raise the tempo.
Gradually, Yeon-hwi added more force,
and So-han endured an ever more punishing round.
“Haah… haah…!”
At last, the basic drills ended.
So-han collapsed to the floor, steaming like a boiling pot.
“I’ll get the camera.”
When Yeon-hwi stepped away, So-han turned his head toward the opposite wall.
That guy’s a demon. A practice-crazed Satan. How many hours has he been swinging?
Meanwhile, Yeon-hwi looked fresh as laundry out of a dryer.
Envy bubbled up, but…
What worried him more wasn’t that.
I didn’t get to do much real action… but it’s fine. Hyung wanted me to nail the basics.
All morning, he’d sweated buckets just blocking and blocking again.
Whether that would actually improve his skills…
Well, he trusted Yeon-hwi, but he couldn’t help worrying.
“All rested? Let’s try it.”
When Yeon-hwi returned, camera set up, they began their choreographed routine in earnest.
Whoosh!
So-han swung, adding facial expressions to his acting.
Huh? Why does this feel light?
Until now, the prop sword had always felt awkward and heavy—
enough that stunt doubles were often brought in for his fight scenes.
But now, it felt strangely light and easy in his hand.
So this is what he meant—holding the sword properly is the foundation.
His grip was becoming more natural,
and with it, his confidence.
Clang!
Blocking the blade, Yeon-hwi drew close enough to meet his eyes.
Yep, a lead is still a lead. His blade work is still awkward,
but his expressions are dead-on.
Because of that, Yeon-hwi could immerse himself in the scene as their blades clashed.
“Haah… let’s review that.”
After a few exchanges, they checked the monitor.
Tighter blade work, solid expressions—
So-han smiled faintly at the sight.
Don’t get satisfied too soon. This is my chance.
Though his arms trembled, he shook them out and took his place again.
They resumed—block, swing, block—
Until…
“Hyung, look out!”
With a startled shout, So-han’s sword shot toward Yeon-hwi’s chest.
His arm had lost strength, and the thrust dipped lower than planned.
“Ah—!”
For a split second, the scene before him made So-han blink rapidly in shock.
