Hobbyist VTuber-Chapter 213

God and the Goblin’s past segment.

The scenes for Baek Jin and Baeksulhwa’s story closely resembled parts of the past segment of You Came from the Stars.

For example, the male lead appearing as the female lead’s protector, or the two protagonists, who once parted in the past, meeting again in the modern day.

Of course, the details differ, but the general storyline shared similarities. The highlight of God and the Goblin’s past segment, like in You Came from the Stars, was the female lead’s death scene.

‘Every time I wear a hanbok, it feels like I’m going to die...’

Having already performed a death scene in The Sunshine, Ha-eun felt a sense of déjà vu. Technically, she hadn’t worn a hanbok when she died in The Sunshine, but a suit instead.

A professional at death scenes.

Recalling a line from an article she had read long ago, Ha-eun felt slightly conflicted.

Though the article had praised her death performances, it was hard to ignore that Ha-eun’s image was becoming cemented as the actress who specialized in sad endings.

Of course, Ha-eun didn’t deny that there was no scene more powerful than the female lead’s death. It was an essential scene for the depth of the work.

However, whenever she acted the death of a character whose death was already confirmed, like Han Yoo-hwa or Kim Jung-hyun, Ha-eun would unknowingly recall memories of her past life, often getting trapped in the recollections of a life she had almost already lived.

‘...I have to overcome it. It’s time.’

Ironically, it was these frustrating memories that made Ha-eun’s death scenes so highly praised. She was more familiar with the feeling of approaching death than anyone else.

Squeak..."...Did you come?"

Ha-eun was able to act with ease, as though she had little time left, portraying the image of someone nearing the end of their life. A person dying of illness—no acting was needed, since it felt so real to her.

“How are you feeling?”

“Please, don’t worry. It’s just weakness. A little rest, and I’ll be fine.”

Her pale complexion.

Even her weak breath could hardly be controlled.

Each breath—inhale and exhale—was heavy, as if a giant rock was pressing down on her chest. Every shallow exhale was accompanied by a dry cough.

This was the acting depicting Baeksulhwa’s grave illness in the past segment. Though the exact disease wasn’t specified, the deteriorating health was clear, and it was evident that Baek Jin and the viewers watching from the TV were concerned.

“I’ve brought medicine. Even if it’s hard, please take it.”

Lying there under Kang Sun-woo’s heavy gaze as he portrayed Baek Jin, Ha-eun forced a smile, as if trying to reassure him not to worry about her.

Baeksulhwa knew her own condition better than anyone else. She was well aware that no medicine Baek Jin had brought so far had made any difference.

But still, Baeksulhwa couldn’t take away Baek Jin’s hope that one day her condition might improve.

“Tell me. Are you having trouble breathing? Is your stomach hurting?”

“Just... being by my side is enough.”

Instead of complaining of pain, Baeksulhwa gently held his hand.

It was the best she could do to repay the kindness she had received from Baek Jin.

The scene ended with Baeksulhwa’s body leaning into Baek Jin’s shoulder. The first scene on the thatched house set was complete.

“Great job, both of you.”

As the director Kwon Jae-hyeop gave the go-ahead, the staff moved quickly and seamlessly.

The lights around the set were adjusted for the next scene, and the camera angles were repositioned.

There was about a 20-minute break until the next shoot. So, Ha-eun had time to chat with Kang Sun-woo while preparations were made.

For example, Ha-eun mentioned how the simple, undecorated hanbok suited her well.

Or how she was looking forward to seeing Kang Sun-woo’s action scenes, which she hadn’t seen since Neighbor Uncle.

“Is it because you’ve added a beard? You really look like a general. I bet you’re amazing in fights.”

“You’re no different. I watched The Moonlight That Parts the Clouds yesterday, and you were pretty fierce.”

“...Only at the beginning, just the beginning.”

Feeling a hint of embarrassment, Ha-eun turned her head slightly without realizing it. Kang Sun-woo, seeing her, chuckled before saying, “I’ll be counting on you.”

“You’re Joseon’s best swordsman, and I’m the best swordsman of Goryeo. Let’s do well, as the best of the best.”

“I’m not doing any action scenes.”

“There are sword scenes, though, right?”

“Well... It’s not really an action scene. It’s just holding the sword.”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Time passed without either of them noticing as they chatted ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) about God and the Goblin.

Finally, when preparations for the next scene were ready, they both stood up.

“I’ll be back,” Kang Sun-woo said, walking toward the far side of the set.

Almost simultaneously, a fierce aura filled the room.

This was the intimidation coming from Baek Jin, who was portrayed as a general who had slaughtered countless Jurchens on the borders of Goryeo.

Kang Sun-woo’s words about still being far from Ha-eun’s level were clearly an understatement after seeing the heavy presence he carried.

‘As expected...’

Ha-eun stared intently at Kang Sun-woo from across the vast set. His armor, scratched in several places, gleamed in the sunlight, and his long sword sparkled.

Though he had been away from the camera for over ten years, he had not lost his touch. Particularly, the sharp, cutting gaze he wore was as sharp as ever.

The yaksha, the yaksha has appeared!Ugh, ugh... Aaaahhh!!The extras, frightened by Baek Jin, acted in tandem with his overwhelming charisma.

The sound of the enemies’ battle cries and the clash of swords filled the air.

Despite being outnumbered, Baek Jin charged toward the Jurchens, cutting them down mercilessly.

In that scene, the reasons behind Baek Jin’s nickname, ‘Yaksha,’ became clear.

The number of lives taken by his sword was countless.

As a general at the border of Goryeo, he fought battles every day, spreading his fearsome reputation far and wide.

“Hah... Hah...”

Only when the remaining Jurchens fled did Baek Jin exhale heavily.

The long sword, now dripping with red liquid, was a stark contrast to the warm image he had shown earlier when he offered medicine to Baeksulhwa.

As Baek Jin, the general, not the protector of Baeksulhwa, he was a brutal force.

“Cut! Great!”

Director Kwon Jae-hyeop’s satisfied voice echoed after the action scene ended.

The flawless performance sparked murmurs of admiration from the crew.

Afterward, scenes of daily life between Baek Jin and Baeksulhwa continued to be filmed.

Baeksulhwa, worried about Baek Jin going to battle every day, and Baek Jin telling Baeksulhwa to rest and not wait for him.

“Today, I might be a little late. Don’t wait and go to sleep first.”

“...Yes.”

Finally, after the sound of Baek Jin’s footsteps faded into the distance, Ha-eun coughed and exhaled heavily.

With trembling hands, she clutched the thin straw mat.

In the small room where even the midday sunlight only faintly filtered in, she continued to suffer alone.

She had nowhere else to go, and she didn’t want to part from Baek Jin, who had taken her in and even given her the name Baeksulhwa.

Though she had a faint sense that she wouldn’t survive much longer, she fought to stay alive, hoping to last at least one more day.

Despite the pain that welled up in her, she couldn’t close her eyes because of it.

‘It really feels like something’s wrong.’

‘So this is what it feels like when time seems to slow down.’

Most of the staff at the filming set couldn’t tear their eyes away from Ha-eun’s lifelike performance.

They had heard before that she was a good actress, but somehow, this performance felt different.

At just 19 years old, it didn’t seem like a performance that someone her age should be able to pull off.

‘Her expression...’

It went beyond just looking like she was in pain.

The way her frail body swayed in the silence, her small lips trembling subtly, and the occasional painful cough—it all looked excruciating.

With each change in the scene’s time period, her gaze gradually became more and more unfocused.

Her hands, too, moved with difficulty, resembling a tiny leaf fluttering in the wind.

Was this what it felt like to lose strength?

The sense of becoming less and less tangible, and the heaviness of the staff’s breaths, grew with her presence.

‘No wonder they say she’s amazing.’

Ha-eun’s unusually lifelike portrayal of pain continued to be captured on camera until the moment arrived for the highlight of the past segment.

“Find her! The Yaksha’s woman is in this village!”

“...Ah...”

With the scene where the Jurchens, seeking revenge on Baek Jin, raided the village, the atmosphere grew tense to the extreme.

Screams echoed from every direction.

Baek Jin, upon hearing that the village had been attacked, rushed to rescue Baeksulhwa with his soldiers. But...

Clink.

The only sound was the sound of Baek Jin’s own sword clattering uselessly to the ground.

His gradually unfocused gaze landed on the bloodstains splattered on the wall.

And there, in the corner of the room, was Baeksulhwa, hanging limply.

The sight of Baeksulhwa’s pure white hanbok soaked in red sent Baek Jin’s consciousness plummeting into an abyss.

With trembling hands, he carefully picked her up and, despite himself, called her name.

“...You’ve come...”

The only thing he could hear from the girl, weakly gasping for breath, was that single word.

Her voice was devoid of strength.

At the very last moment, Baeksulhwa’s limp hand weakly grasped at Baek Jin’s clothing, before falling helplessly.

Thud.

Her delicate arm dropped to the floor.

It touched the blood-soaked floor, and the small fingertips connected with it.

“...Sulhwa...”

Without even being able to breathe, he embraced her.

Staring at her cold face, Baek Jin felt the sensation of the world collapsing around him.

It felt as though his heart was freezing over.

Despite having killed countless barbarians, the fact that he couldn’t save this one girl left him with a sense of deep misery.

For Baek Jin, Baeksulhwa was the last trace of his humanity.

She was a symbol that despite all the lives he had taken, there was still something human left in him.

Perhaps that’s why.

The source of this c𝐨ntent is freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.

After that day, rumors began to spread among the children living in the northern lands.

Long ago, a Yaksha lived.

Every step he took, blood would spill.

Every time he swung his sword, screams would follow.

A Yaksha who, after losing a child, wandered with blood on his hands.

On nights when the red moon rose, he would seek out the descendants of those who took his child...

***

“Good job.”

Then a cup of coffee was handed over.

Kang Sun-woo, sitting right next to Ha-eun, hesitated for a moment.

After taking a sip of the coffee Ha-eun had handed him, he finally opened his mouth.

“Did you hear someone earlier saying your performance was like a bad ending from Neighbor Uncle?”

The conversation then shifted to the scenes Ha-eun had filmed alone.

It was mentioned that Ha-eun’s performance felt different today.

In the end, Kang Sun-woo, as an actor, was able to discern what kind of performance Ha-eun was giving.

He had been the first to see her act in the past.

“It felt just like it did back then.”

It was the same feeling from the time when her acting wasn’t fully refined yet.

A strange, bittersweet feeling he had first noticed in her as a young child actress.

It was as if she wasn’t just performing from a script but rather recreating past experiences—a peculiar sensation.

That’s why he asked if something was wrong with her.

Ha-eun’s condition seemed a bit off today.

But the response that came back was her usual, emotionless voice.

The sound of her chewing on something small, like a chocolate, followed.

“I think it’s because I was forcing myself to cough. My throat’s just a little sore, but there’s nothing else wrong.”

“Hm... well, if you say so, I guess it must be that way.”

Ha-eun was cold today, in more ways than one.

Kang Sun-woo didn’t ask any further questions because of it.

However, Ha-eun kept fidgeting with her throat, which caught his attention.

After briefly stepping away, he returned with a propolis spray he always carried with him.

Knock knock.

Squeak.

“If your throat hurts a lot, this is... wait—”

“I’m going to make sure those naughty Noeulis who tease Cream unnie don’t get away with it! I’m always watching, so be careful!”

“...?”

Ha-eun’s voice, one he had never heard before, made him automatically close his mouth, which had been about to explain the spray.

The sharp, cold atmosphere she had been giving off until just now had completely vanished.

“Fine, unnie☆ Huh? What’s this, why are you so grateful, I can always ask you for help... Ahhh!!”

Thud.

Her gaze was frantic.

Her trembling hands.

“Wait, when did you...?”

“I just came in a moment ago.”

Ha-eun, whose face had turned pale, tried to say something but kept stopping herself.

In the end, her face twisted, and she struggled to say anything, with tears forming in her eyes.

Kang Sun-woo was even more flustered seeing her like this.

“Ah, Uncle... Please just hit me once. You need to erase your memory—!”

“Ha-eun, pull yourself together!”