I'm an Unknown Actress, But Everyone Knows Me

Screeeech—!

The tires scraped against the asphalt as the supercar spun wildly in place.

“If there’s an accident, that’s a fine of up to twenty million won under the Special Act on Traffic Accident Handling!”

What had slipped into the back seat unnoticed was none other than the captain of the Violent Crimes Unit.

“Distribution of Funny Balloon—up to three years in prison and a fine of fifty million won!”

He barked out fines as if shouting, snapping back at Kay’s claim that the world was easy if you had money. It was the pent-up bitterness of a working-class captain who had suffered plenty because of money over the years.

“Even if you insist you didn’t know—ten million won!”

After spinning several times, the supercar slammed into the guardrail. Boom—!

Even then, the captain still hadn’t let go of Kay’s neck.

“Narcotics—five years or more in prison, or life imprisonment! A life you can’t buy with money! Are you ready to put it all on the line—ngh...!”

But Kay pulled out a stun gun from inside his jacket. With a crackling zap, the captain’s body went rigid, and Kay spoke while looking down at him.

“What, you knockoff LouisXX wannabe.”

As Kay opened the car door, leaving the captain behind, the man’s tongue trembled as he tried to speak.

“Ree... real... it’s real....”

“What? What are you even saying. You’re a cop, so you only wear fakes?”

Kay picked up the black bag sitting in the passenger seat. Then, through the open door, he kicked the car disdainfully, as if mocking the captain, as if this kind of supercar meant nothing to him.

And just as he was about to leave—

“He said it was the real thing. The captain did.”

Detective Yoon appeared.

Detective Yoon, who had always brushed off Captain Gwak’s unit, was acting uncharacteristically polite. Maybe moved by his words, the captain, still trembling uncontrollably, opened his mouth again.

“It’s... this year’s... new... li-mi—”

“What.”

“He said it’s this year’s new limited edition. The captain did.”

As Detective Yoon kindly explained again, Kay shook his head in disbelief.

“I’m never buying it again. LouisXX....”

Once more, laughter filled the theater. Reporter Wi also smiled quietly.

‘Around now, by cliché, the villain is supposed to be told what justice is, and that what they did can’t be forgiven....’

It was the climax of the movie, yet there wasn’t a shred of seriousness. But instead, that actually eased the audience’s fatigue.

Yun Hyeonjo once again subdued Kay in a stylish way. He grabbed his wrist, twisted it, then kicked the back of his knee, throwing off his balance.

After exchanging punches in a brief back-and-forth struggle, the second Kay finally went down.

“Ah, fuck! Is it okay for cops to beat people like this? This is way past self-defense!”

“That’s not for you to decide.”

Despite not getting beaten nearly as loudly as the Kay Captain Gwak had caught, this Kay whined and complained nonstop.

“I’m gonna turn this into a proper article, you hear me? Excessive police violence, stuff like that!”

“Go ahead.”

“All detectives are broke assholes who can’t even afford a decent lawyer! Yeah! Let’s do this by the law, by the law!”

At Kay’s provocation, Detective Yoon—who had always kept his composure—smiled briefly.

“There’s something faster than the law. So why.”

Thud!

As Detective Yoon punched him in the face, he suddenly looked just like the hotheaded Violent Crimes Unit. Click. The sound of handcuffs snapping shut was crisp and cheerful.

* * *

Under the bright sunlight, someone was entering a brunch café on Cheongdam Avenue. The click-clack of her heels echoed cutely.

-Pretty girl....

Now, Yeoreum could make the audience laugh with music alone. Jingle—. With the soft sound of a bell, the door opened, and a slow-motion effect washed over Yeoreum’s face as she brushed her hair back leisurely.

“Unniii!”

The moment Yeoreum spotted someone, she waved frantically and hurried over. At that table sat women styled similarly to Yeoreum—the women she had saved during the last incident.

“Hey, you’re so pretty—.”

“Unni, you’re prettier.”

They started greeting each other with the kind of lines exchanged while fixing makeup in a club bathroom. The brunch café quickly grew noisy.

“So what happened to those bastards?”

“Well, you know. It blew up all over the news.”

They talked about the incident. Beside Yeoreum, CG appeared as if newspapers were stuck to her like Post-its.

[They told them to crack down on Funny Balloon—so why were the police distributing it themselves... signs of internal cover-up]

[‘Crackdown’ or ‘business’? The —who was really behind it?]

[Shock... who can we trust now? Public outrage erupts over the Funny Balloon scandal]

Everyone involved in supplying and distributing the was handcuffed and taken away, including higher-ups who had tried to obstruct the investigation.

“They should all just get the death penalty!”

“Exactly, exactly.”

Yeoreum was seriously angry when the unni who owned the scarf Yeoreum had casually borrowed suddenly grabbed her.

“Hey, you—wait....”

“Why?”

“Stay still.”

The unni stopped her from turning her head and raised her phone. Click—! A bright shutter sound rang out.

“That angle just now was insanely pretty. This is crazy.”

“Ah, really? Then film a video too! Hurry, hurry, hurry!”

And just like that, Influencer No. 1 returned to her daily life. Repair costs, medical bills, rental fees—she had paid it all off in one go.

* * *

“Twelve of them got wiped out, they say?”

“Serves them right. Jeez. Five years of investigation—if it weren’t for those bastards, we’d have caught everyone in a year.”

“Hey. That’s not true.”

Amid the murmurs of the police officers in attendance, the National Police Commissioner’s speech rang out thunderously.

“Taking this case as an opportunity! Internal police reform will not stop—it will continue!”

In the very front row, the Narcotics Task Force and the Anti-Corruption Division sat together, dressed sharply. Like a single team.

“We promise once again to become a police force trusted by the people.”

As the Commissioner’s speech ended, text appeared on the screen behind him. White letters on a blue background symbolizing integrity read:

[Special Promotion List]

[Gwak Cheolsik – promoted from Inspector to Senior Inspector]

[Yun Hyeonjo – promoted from Senior Inspector to Superintendent]

[All members of the Funny Balloon Cartel Investigation Team promoted]

Medals were hung around everyone’s necks as they stood side by side, then turned in unison and saluted the audience.

The applause didn’t stop.

It was when they were leaving the imposing building. They weren’t bickering like usual. At least at the moment of parting, they seemed determined to end things cleanly.

“Take care.”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“Seriously, that guy to the very end....”

Detective Yoon replied carelessly to Detective Gwak’s farewell. Just as they were about to turn their backs on each other—

Step. Step. Step.

From far away, the sound of dress shoes approached. It was the Vice Commissioner of the National Police Agency, dressed in a neat suit.

“Congratulations.”

“Oh, come on.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Smiling, the Commissioner handed them a velvet rectangular folder.

“But we already received our awards earlier?”

“....”

As Detectives Gwak and Yoon looked at him in confusion, the Commissioner smiled again and waved his hand as if urging them to open it.

Inside the folder they received was yet another letter of appointment.

[Special Investigation Headquarters Appointment]

Detective Yoon blinked in disbelief. Gwak Cheolsik’s mouth fell open. Only the captain smiled, as if he had known all along.

“What kind of law is this!”

Detective Gwak’s voice boomed across the police grounds. Beneath the clear blue sky, banners fluttered once again in front of the imposing National Police Agency building today.

[Justice Prevails]

The screen went dark.

Bang!

.

As the movie’s title appeared once more, upbeat siren sounds played and the ending credits rolled.

* * *

“Not bad.”

The senior reporter sitting next to Reporter Wi summed it up neatly. He was the one who had nailed the ratings prediction perfectly ever since the script reading for Do Gyeoul’s .

“Right. It doesn’t drone on. It’s cliché, but twisted in an odd way.”

As they left the theater, they quickly organized the headlines for their upcoming articles. No sooner had they exited than they saw several reporters already typing away at nearby tables.

Reporter Wi also opened her laptop. Adding new lines to the article she had drafted earlier after watching the trailer, she asked,

“What do you think the numbers will be, sunbae?”

Our Yeoreum is cute, right, our Yeoreum looked good, right, our Yeoreum did well, right....

Swallowing the countless questions she wanted to ask, Reporter Wi forced herself to pose the most professional one possible.

The senior reporter stared at the screen for a moment, then glanced around. The other reporters’ reactions were lukewarm.

“Ten million.”

“...Ten million?”

When Reporter Wi looked startled, the senior replied as if it were nothing.

“It’s an easy watch.”

“But still, ten million? I mean, just hit ten million not long ago. And now another one?”

“Yeah. Compared to that, this is lighter. That one leaned heavier into crime. , if you really categorize it, is an action comedy. Predicted rating, 3.5? Around there.”

He knew it well. Audiences went to see movies that made them laugh lightly without pause far more than deep, tedious stories.

“Probably... if you ask me.”

And this —

“Fastest to ten million.”

It was the perfect movie to pick without thinking too hard before booking a ticket.

– Average Rating ★★★☆ (3.5/5.0) Critics’ Reviews

-Predictable plot and clichés. But a refreshingly clever variation. (★★★)

-The cathartic rush of fast pacing and unrestrained action. Where should we soothe the regret of having no message? (★★☆)

-The pleasant familiarity of a known flavor. (★★★★)

Soon after, as if proving his prediction right, the critics’ average rating settled at 3.5.

* * *

In the empty theater, I was standing next to Director Gong. It was the time when industry people offered a few words of goodwill before leaving.

“Wow, I really enjoyed it! I’ve been watching these days too. Man, you’re scary good.”

“Thank you!”

“My daughter’s a huge fan, a huge fan! She said to tell you she really enjoyed that parfait thing.”

“Oh, really? Then maybe an autograph? Do you need one? How about a selfie with me? Or would you like a video message?”

A fan. That would make them my second fan—I couldn’t let that slip. I was seriously considering turning on a bunny-ears filter and taking a photo together on the elder’s phone when—

“Hello! There!”

A spirited voice rang out from somewhere. I turned my head—and froze on the spot.

‘Ja Sokhwan...?’

No, why is that man here? Did he come to see me? Of course, that’s unlikely. Gwak Cheolsik and Yun Hyeonjo are here. But then why....

‘Is he looking at me?’

Had he recognized Han Yeoreum, the greatest actress representing this era of Korea? For my autograph? A photo together? A video message? Or maybe—

“I watched yesterday!”

“Yes, Director. Thank you.”

“Oh? You recognized me as a director right away?”

“Of course. Aren’t you Director Ja Sokhwan, the greatest drama director of this era? Just like your name, you draw viewers to the screen like a magnet, the great master of our nation. I grew up watching your dramas, which always had exceptional depth, so in a way, my dream of becoming an actress started with you. You’re one of the people I respect the most.”

Was he going to recommend me for his next project? Discuss casting me in his work? Offer me the female lead?

Han Yeoreum’s vulgar internal calculator was about to explode. Greetings poured out of me without even passing through my brain.

“So you like me this much! Perfect! Take this.”

“Hyung... is it okay to steal actors at someone else’s premiere...? If it were your premiere, what would you think? I mean, this insane situation—tell me what you thought of my movie first....”

“See here, where I highlighted it? Yeon Huijae. It’s not confirmed yet, but I wanted to talk about it.”

“What does silence mean? What is it supposed to mean? Does that mean our movie was bad?”

Director Gong was gripping Director Ja’s arm, seeking empathy about , but Ja steadfastly said only what he wanted.

‘That must be the dignity of a master....’

Not caring about others’ feelings in the slightest. Kind of like Professor Geum Bitgang of light. Though that one is darkness.

Anyway, I accepted the shopping bag Director Ja handed me. Inside were a script and a character profile.

‘The Great Garland!’

I blinked. No way. I immediately remembered the name Yeon Huijae. The Yeon Huijae known as the nation’s first love.

“Right! Let the child actors say hello too. Since we’re all gathered like this, how about we talk more after filming later?”

“I wasn’t planning on sharing my schedule ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) with you....”

Against Director Gong’s deflated muttering, Director Ja gestured somewhere.

“The movie was fun, Yeoreum. Director. I really enjoyed it.”

At that, Myeong Jeha—who would become Gi Taeseok of The Great Garland—approached.