Prologue
I was ten years old when I learned how much time I had left to live.
[Current Date: January 9, 2019]
[Remaining Lifespan: 71 years, 11 months, 16 days]
[Confirmed Date of Death: December 25, 2090]
For a child who had lived only nine years and a little over two weeks, even seventy-one more years felt unbearably long.
That winter, I was filming deep in the mountains.
I was supposed to cry.
But no tears would come.
Back then, I was so desperate that I would have sold my soul to the devil if it meant I could shed even a single tear.
Anything was better than freezing to death.
[Hello. I’m the Devil.]
And then, completely out of nowhere…
A devil actually appeared.
[I have a proposal.]
[You may use 20 years of your lifespan to improve your acting ability.]
[Do you accept this transaction?]
“Improve your acting ability.”
It was a grand, frustratingly vague offer.
But at that moment, there was only one thing I needed.
“Will I be able to cry right now if I accept?”
I just wanted to go home.
The devil answered without hesitation.
[Of course!]
“Then you can have twenty years.”
After that, more messages appeared one after another.
[Transaction completed.]
[Remaining Lifespan: 51 years, 11 months, 16 days]
[Confirmed Date of Death: December 25, 2070]
From that day on…
Whenever I wanted to cry,
I could.
Chapter 1
[A-hyung~^^ It was f*ing awful meeting you. Let’s never meet again in our next life ♥]**
[Hey, Lee Hee-yoon, you sociopathic bastard. I seriously hope you get hit by a car.]
[↳ Hey, delete his name before you get sued lol.]
[↳↳ His company already exposed him. They’re not suing anyone.]
[Is Actor L Hee-yoon really that terrible? Every time the salon staff mention him, they all exchange looks…]**
[↳ Maybe because he became a celebrity too young.]
[↳↳ His agency should’ve disciplined him when he was a kid.]
[↳ Didn’t his parents die when he was young?]
[↳↳ He’s thirty-two now. Stop using that excuse. It’s insulting to people who actually lost their parents young.]
[Whenever that actor shows up, the atmosphere on set goes to hell. Someone save us.]
[↳ Then the assistant directors are the ones who have to clean up after everyone else’s bad mood lol.]
[Still… he’s insanely good at acting.]
[↳ So what? He wastes everyone’s time trying to immerse himself in the role.]
[↳ Because of that bastard, I once had to stay outside filming all night. It was absolute hell.]
[↳ Doesn’t he go around calling himself a “great actor”? lol]
[↳↳ Wait, he actually said that himself?]
[↳↳↳ Yeah. He literally calls himself a great actor on set lol.]
Lee Hee-yoon sat in the monitoring room, smoking a cigarette as he read the collection of anonymous comments his manager, Gong Sun-woo, had shown him.
Without looking up, he asked,
“So… even though my parents actually died in a car accident, wishing a car accident on me should still be grounds for a lawsuit, right?”
“…They’re people in the same industry.”
“So I can’t?”
Clicking his tongue, Hee-yoon looked over at his manager.
“What if I go beat them up myself?”
“Hee-yoon!”
“What? You just said you can’t sue people in the same business. Doesn’t that mean they can’t sue me either?”
The monitoring room had no windows that opened, and cigarette smoke filled every corner.
His manager had begged him countless times to switch to e-cigarettes like every other celebrity, but Hee-yoon stubbornly refused.
Then again, if smoking had been his only problem…
Today’s contract negotiations probably wouldn’t have gone this way.
Across from him sat Director Do Jae-yeon of Leader Actors.
Hee-yoon got straight to the point.
“So. How much’s my signing bonus, noona?”
“Hee-yoon.”
“Skip the lecture. Just give me the number. Match it, and I won’t leave.”
“I’m really sorry…”
Director Do let out a long sigh.
“The company decided not to renew your contract.”
Sun-woo squeezed his eyes shut.
People always joked that any company calling itself “one big family” was toxic.
Leader Actors was especially guilty.
These days, major entertainment agencies produced their own dramas and filled the casts with their own actors. The fact that an A-list actor like Lee Hee-yoon had remained with the relatively small Leader Actors for so many years was proof of how close they all were.
CEO Gam Seong-beom.
His cousin and vice president, Gam Su-han.
Director Do Jae-yeon, who had started as a part-time employee before rising through the ranks—and eventually marrying Su-han.
It had always been a family business in the truest sense.
And yet…
They were throwing out Lee Hee-yoon, who had stayed loyal to them from the age of seventeen, when he first entered high school, until now, at the beginning of his thirties.
Bearing the burden of delivering the news, Do Jae-yeon continued calmly.
“Go somewhere else. If another company wants you, take the offer.”
“…You’re not renewing me?”
He stared at her in disbelief.
“Do you even know who I am?”
Never in his life had Lee Hee-yoon imagined he’d utter such a cliché line.
But he was so stunned that it slipped out automatically.
He suddenly remembered mocking screenwriters for writing dialogue like this, saying even dogs or cows could write something better.
Maybe…
Maybe they weren’t that bad after all.
Do Jae-yeon folded her arms.
“I’ll be blunt.”
“There are plenty of rude actors besides you.”
“Sure, very few of them walk around calling themselves a great actor, but let’s call that arrogance instead.”
“If we’re only talking about personality, there are people far worse than you.”
“But at least they don’t pick fights with directors, writers, and fellow actors.”
“They know when to stop.”
“You don’t.”
“You’re a f***ing equal-opportunity asshole.”
“Directors refuse to work with you.”
“And believe it or not, writers do too.”
“Oh, right.”
“The actors don’t want to work with you either.”
“You know what? I almost want to applaud you.”
“You’re manly as hell.”
Her childhood temper had completely resurfaced as she unloaded everything in one breath.
Listening quietly with his angelically beautiful face…
Hee-yoon calmly lit another cigarette.
Then he flipped his phone over.
“I recorded all that.”
“I’m suing for emotional damages.”
“You?”
Do Jae-yeon snorted.
“You?”
“You’re going to sue?”
“You can’t even pour yourself a glass of water.”
“Once you’re out of this company, none of this is our legal department’s job anymore.”
“Your banking.”
“Your housekeeper.”
“Your manager, Sun-woo.”
“Everything.”
“You’re handling it yourself from now on.”
Hee-yoon listened silently.
Then he spoke.
“If Su-han hyung were still here…”
“…this never would’ve happened.”
For the first time, Do Jae-yeon’s annoyed expression froze into something frightening.
A second later, it softened back into irritation.
She remembered.
To Hee-yoon…
Gam Su-han had been family too.
As Hee-yoon left the monitoring room, Sun-woo stood to drive him home.
Do Jae-yeon gestured for him to stay.
After the door closed, she collapsed back into her chair.
The confrontation had gone much more smoothly than she’d expected, but she looked exhausted.
Sun-woo asked quietly,
“Will you be okay?”
“No.”
“But what choice did we have?”
“If we didn’t go this far…”
“…he never would’ve left.”
Grumbling under her breath, she finally gave up and pulled out a cigarette.
The meeting room was already thick with smoke anyway.
“Just get him a taxi.”
“I’m worried he’ll get himself into trouble with that temper.”
“I will.”
Sun-woo hurried after Hee-yoon.
Outside the building, he helped gather Hee-yoon’s belongings one last time.
“Your wallet’s here.”
“Here’s your ID.”
“And your passport.”
“You think I’m an idiot?”
“I know how to carry my own stuff.”
“…Why do you always have to say it like that?”
“I’m worried about you.”
Hee-yoon accepted the documents with an exasperated look.
Sun-woo flagged down a taxi.
Then he extended his hand.
“It was an honor working with you, Actor Lee.”
“Bullshit.”
Hee-yoon slapped the offered hand aside and climbed into the taxi.
Watching it disappear, Sun-woo rubbed both hands over his face.
Then he turned back toward the company.
With Lee Hee-yoon gone…
Leader Actors had just lost its final lifeline.
* * *
That’s how I returned home.
The moment I arrived, I almost called Vice President Gam Su-han to complain.
Then I stopped.
He had been dead for over six months.
And somehow…
I still hadn’t gotten used to the fact that he was gone.
I wondered if people ever really got used to something like that.
[Current Date: June 6, 2042]
[Remaining Lifespan: 28 years, 6 months, 19 days]
The devil—
Or rather, the system window that occasionally reminded me of my remaining lifespan over the past twenty-three years—
appeared again.
The child whose only wish had been to cry whenever he wanted…
had grown into a middle-aged man who couldn’t live without alcohol and cigarettes.
Still almost thirty years left.
I gave up twenty years for acting…
and I still had this much time.
Why the hell am I going to live so long?
Because I’m rich?
The last thirty years had already been exhausting.
What was I supposed to do with another thirty?
Although my contract wasn’t being renewed, there was still a month left before it officially ended.
Sun-woo occasionally visited, teaching me how to live without the company taking care of everything.
I never saw Director Do Jae-yeon again.
The woman who had protected me from my uncle’s family ever since Sun-woo was a rookie manager…
was gone from my life too.
I had less money than I’d expected.
About 4.7 billion won.
Considering how much my uncle had siphoned away…
I must have earned an incredible amount over the years.
If so…
His family must be filthy rich by now.
I wondered if they were living well.
Anyway…
That was the day my career as an actor ended.
Not because I wanted it to.
Scripts written specifically with me in mind still arrived.
Sometimes I even accepted them.
Only for the production companies to cancel the offer every single time.
The reason was always the same.
Other actors threatened to quit because of my reputation.
It felt unreal.
Like a mirage.
After enough repetitions…
I stopped answering casting offers altogether.
There’s… too much time.
Until then…
I had believed I hated acting.
As a child, I acted because I’d be beaten if I didn’t.
As an adult, because it was the only thing I knew how to do.
If I were born again…
I’d always thought…
I wouldn’t become an actor.
And then…
After I had finally begun living something close to a normal life.
After I finished moving into my new apartment.
I sat on my newly bought sofa, lit a cigarette…
and absentmindedly muttered something I couldn’t even understand myself.
“I want to act.”
The words left my mouth.
I frowned.
…Why did I say that?
Clicking my tongue, I lay back on the sofa.
No one ever visited my home.
The room filled with cigarette smoke…
and my thoughts.
…
After thinking for a long time…
I reached one conclusion.
I loved acting.
Far more…
than I had ever realized.
Not long afterward, I moved again.
I couldn’t bear to stay in the house Su-han had painstakingly helped me buy—the one he’d dragged me around to find while saying,
“Having your own home gives you security.”
I threw away my belongings.
People threw me away.
Still…
Living alone, I slowly learned all the ordinary things adults were supposed to know.
As for Leader Actors—
Maybe…
I really had been the company’s only source of bad luck.
Because the moment I left…
That bad luck split apart and came crashing down on the company from every direction.
[CEO Gam Seong-beom Still Missing After Fleeing Authorities]
[Leader Actors Reduced to an Empty Shell, Officially Shuts Down]
[“Prestigious Actor Agency” Leader Actors Acquired by Moby Dick Entertainment]
Then…
For the first time in a long while…
I had a reason to leave the house.
[Director Do Jae-yeon Found Dead at Home… Cause of Death Under Investigation]
[Friends Say She Had Long Blamed Herself for Leader Actors’ Collapse]
