Kim Jeong-hyun is a girl who craves freedom.
Although the meaning and form of freedom evolve between the early and middle-late stages of the drama,
her relentless pursuit of it—by any means necessary—remains constant until the end.
“Did I empathize with her? Or was I envious…?”
The fact that Kim Jeong-hyun’s greatest desire was freedom mirrored parts of Ha-eun’s past life.
Just as Kim Jeong-hyun longed to break free from all restraints, Ha-eun in her previous life dreamed of escaping the confines of a stark white hospital room.
Both had lived in objectively privileged environments,
yet neither experienced a truly comfortable or peaceful life—another point of similarity.
However, Kim Jeong-hyun’s proactive resolve to achieve her goals by any means necessary stood in stark contrast to Ha-eun’s past.
Unlike Kim Jeong-hyun, who could take decisive action, Ha-eun had been denied any means or opportunities to act.
Confronted by abuse and restrictions, she could only crumble helplessly,
unable to even imagine escape.
“Ugh… I’m sorry, I’m sorry…!”
She had spent her life striving to meet the expectations of others,
only to ultimately fail to achieve what she truly wanted, her life ending in despair.
“Would things have been different if I had resisted, even forcibly?”
Though both began their lives in circumstances of “unfreedom,” their responses and outcomes diverged dramatically.
Perhaps this was why The Sunshine had left such a deep impression on her.
It was, in a word, regret.
Or perhaps lingering attachment.
Despite knowing that every moment from her past was long gone,
Ha-eun often found herself imagining “what if” scenarios.
“Hmm, you look like something’s on your mind. Not happy with your performance?”
“No, it’s just... I got lost in some old memories. I think the performance went well.”
It was simply bittersweet that she could only now perform so well.
The words she couldn’t bring herself to confide to Baek Tae-hoon still lingered heavily in her throat.
But she couldn’t let herself remain trapped by the past forever.
Ha-eun shifted her unfocused gaze away from old memories and fixed it on the script in front of her.
For the sake of someone who would one day watch her performance in The Sunshine, she resolved to give it her all.
What had already passed was beyond her control.
What she could do now was dedicate herself to the present, capturing on camera the kind of person her past self had once admired.
Unconsciously, Ha-eun hoped that her performance would convey something meaningful to her past self,
still trapped in that hospital room, and that perhaps this time, things would turn out differently.
Preparations for filming the scene of Kim Jeong-hyun acting for the freedom of her nation began soon after.
“Alright, everyone, filming starts at exactly 5 o’clock!”
The voice of Director Kwon Jae-hyeop filled the expansive The Sunshine set as Ha-eun’s assigned writer came to fetch her.
Following the writer, Ha-eun made her way to the dressing room.
This marked the start of a complete transformation: new makeup and a costume change.
Her elegant hanbok was removed, replaced with a black suit and a thick coat.
Her neatly tied ribboned hair was undone and restyled into a simpler look.
The back of her hair was pinned up and concealed beneath a black bowler hat.
Finally, a thin mask covered the lower half of her face, revealing a figure that looked every bit like an assassin.
The refined young lady adored by all had vanished entirely.
“Hmm… I guess this could be considered cross-dressing?”
In the mirror before her, Ha-eun saw a gender-neutral figure.
With most of her face concealed by the mask, her sharp eyes stood out even more prominently.
Transformed from head to toe into someone entirely different, Ha-eun returned to the set.
“From a distance, it’s hard to even tell who you are. Your entire vibe has changed,” Director Kwon remarked.
He then walked her through the upcoming action sequence, detailing her movements. Together, they reviewed her path through the sprawling set.
“Be careful not to run too fast—you might fall. For the final fall scene, we’ll cut briefly before continuing, so stop for a moment there.”
The upcoming scene featured Kim Jeong-hyun as a freedom fighter, escaping after her first assassination.
It was an intense chase sequence between Kim Jeong-hyun and the relentless Japanese soldiers.
Her escape route? Rooftops.
She would leap across clustered tiled rooftops, heading toward a safe house.
Of course, the actual scene wouldn’t involve running on real tiles.
With the final checks complete, it was time for action.
“Alright, everyone, ready? And... action!”
At Director Kwon’s signal, Ha-eun began running across the rooftop set.
Simultaneously, extras playing Japanese soldiers gave chase on the ground below.
The loud sound of prop guns echoed throughout the set, perfectly synchronized with Ha-eun’s performance.
Each gunshot prompted a convincing flinch from her.
“Her reactions are flawless.”
Her eyes darted back and forth, alternating between the safe house ahead and the soldiers below.
Her performance perfectly conveyed the life-or-death stakes of the scene.
The sequence continued with added parkour elements.
Ha-eun leaped from one roof to another, desperately evading her pursuers.
Combined with appropriate CG and background music, this would undoubtedly result in a stunning scene.
Director Kwon felt reassured, seeing Ha-eun transition seamlessly from portraying a refined lady to executing a daring escape as a freedom fighter.
When Ha-eun reached the end of the chase, the director called, “Cut!”
The crew adjusted the cameras, lights, and microphones, preparing for the next part of the sequence.
“Ha-eun, aren’t you out of breath?” someone asked, puzzled by how composed she seemed after such an intense scene.
Standing tall on the rooftop, Ha-eun waited for filming to resume with her usual calm demeanor.
“After you fall off the roof, you need to look tired—breathe heavily!”
Twenty seconds later, action resumed.
In this part, a sniper among the Japanese soldiers finally lands a hit on Kim Jeong-hyun.
Kim Jeong-hyun staggered as blood began to seep from her left shoulder.
Clutching the wound in agony, she fell from the roof into a narrow alley below.
The impact sent her colliding with a wooden cart, shattering it to pieces.
Kim Jeong-hyun lay limp amidst the wreckage, struggling to lift her head as the voices of Japanese soldiers echoed ominously nearby.
Knowing she would be captured if she remained there, she forced herself up, staggering deeper into the alley.
Before she could fully disappear into the shadows, however—
The sound of a gun being cocked came from dangerously close.
Kim Jeong-hyun turned her head slowly, her expression dark, as she realized everything was over.
“...What possessed you to do this? You used to flinch at the slightest scratch,” Park Joo-ho said, his face conflicted with mixed emotions.
Kim Jeong-hyun met his gaze and replied bitterly,
“If you’re going to shoot, shoot. If you’re going to let me go, do it. I’m in a hurry.”
The scene ended with Kim Jeong-hyun collapsing against Park Joo-ho’s chest, forcing him to confront the depth of her resolve.
The tension of their complex, intertwined relationship was perfectly captured on camera.
But as soon as Director Kwon called “Cut!”, Ha-eun’s eyes shot open.
“Whoa! That startled me,” Baek Tae-hoon, who played Park Joo-ho, exclaimed as Ha-eun quickly pulled away.
“You didn’t need to get up so fast—I nearly fell over.”
“Ah... I’ll be more careful,” Ha-eun said sheepishly.
The mid-stage filming of The Sunshine proceeded smoothly following Kim Jeong-hyun’s first action scene.
However, Ha-eun’s schedule wasn’t solely dedicated to the drama’s production.
[ Are you free around lunchtime on Saturday? I have something I need to discuss with you. ]
Messages , often summoning her to LUX’s headquarters, meant that even on non-filming days for The Sunshine, Ha-eun was kept busy with various engagements.
Still, everything on her schedule consisted of things she genuinely wanted to do.
With careful pace management, Ha-eun didn’t feel like she was overexerting herself.
Mentally, she was in a much better place than she had been in the past.
However, independent of her newfound mental balance—
“We’re planning to release Illusionary Land’s first merch line as soon as possible after the cover song is out.”
Ji Hye-min, speaking from her desk in LUX’s executive office, began outlining the details.
Specifically, she mentioned plans for merchandise that included a voice pack tied to Illusionary Land.
『 Heh, you fell for it again. Dummy~. 』
『 Ahaha! You’re really bad at this—! 』
『 Ew! You’re so ugly! 』
“W-wait, why are all the lines ?”
“There are other ones, too. I just picked out the ones that suit Diah’s personality the best.”
The dialogue was nothing short of shocking.
“H-how did this even happen?”
Ha-eun found herself utterly bewildered.
She was flustered, wondering when Diah’s image had taken such a sharp turn.
Even though she had much more to discuss with Ji Hye-min, her mind was already spinning.