NIS Agent Reincarnated as a Genius Actor

“Oh, Yeon-woo. Huh? What happened to your hand? Did you get into a fight?”

Writer Kim Jin-joo asked with a worried expression, noticing Yeon-woo’s hand still wrapped in bandages and plaster.

He had fought, indeed. A foolish practice addict had fought relentlessly with the violin.

“Oh, it’s almost healed. It’s nothing serious. Anyway, about the idea.”

“Yes, go on.”

Yeon-woo had felt that the background of the internal world, which was supposed to represent a long journey, was somewhat monotonous.

“The current world inside the body is similar to a medieval fantasy, right?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“The movie starts about six years after the protagonist gets trapped inside his sister’s body, and in terms of the human body, it’s around the thigh area, right?”

Kim Jin-joo nodded at Yeon-woo’s question.

“That’s right. The kingdom is named Femoral, after the thigh.”

“Then, where did the protagonist start when he first entered the body six years ago?”

Since this wasn’t covered in the screenplay, Kim Jin-joo looked at the original creator, director Hwang Min-kwon.

“Uh, probably the sole of the foot?”

Yeon-woo nodded and continued.

“Then, how about this, as the protagonist moves from the sole to the thigh, from the thigh to the heart, and finally to the head, the society becomes more advanced the higher they go?”

“More advanced?”

“If the thigh represents the medieval era, the upper body could represent the modern era, and the head could represent a futuristic society. This would make the story richer and more diverse.”

Director Hwang Min-kwon clapped his hands in agreement.

“That way, viewers can more intuitively understand where the protagonist and his companions are. The background would also become more varied. Director Yo-han, is this feasible?”

“The more futuristic it is, the easier it is to handle with CG. When creating something that doesn’t exist, we don’t have to worry about details and historical accuracy.”

Seeing Jung Yo-han’s positive reaction, Yeon-woo nodded and looked at Kim Jin-joo.

She seemed to be in a daze, her eyes unfocused, muttering to herself.

“As they go higher, it becomes more advanced… the thigh is medieval… the brain is futuristic…”

Then, with the speed of lightning, Kim Jin-joo pulled out her laptop from her bag.

“Huh? Writer Kim Jin-joo?”

As Director Hwang Min-kwon tried to speak to her, Yeon-woo shook his head.

“It seems she’s struck by inspiration right now. Let’s give her some space.”

Quietly, the two directors and Yeon-woo left the meeting room, leaving Kim Jin-joo alone with the relentless sound of typing echoing behind them. The meeting was postponed to a later date, with the hope that the screenplay could be improved in a better direction. There was no rush, especially with Yeon-woo’s re-enrollment issue.

‘If it results in a more polished story, there’s nothing more to ask for.’

The storyline was already good before it was inspired by Yeon-woo’s idea, so he was looking forward to seeing how it would evolve.

“Now, let’s get on with my tasks.”

Yeon-woo entered the College of Business Administration at Korea University and looked around.

“Hmm, not much has changed, has it?”

An elevator had been installed in the building, and several large multi-purpose rooms had been added. However, the structure of the building itself remained the same, which brought a sense of familiarity.

With a nostalgic look, Yeon-woo caressed the smooth wooden handrail of the central staircase.

‘I must have gone up and down these stairs countless times in my past life.’

Yeon-woo was visiting the university to submit his re-enrollment application and because he had been called by his academic advisor. It was his first time visiting since his enrollment, but having attended the same department in his past life, everything around him evoked nostalgia and felt familiar.

He naturally climbed the central staircase to the third floor and found the professor’s office.

Professor Kim Taekyung’s Research Office

‘Hmm, the name sounds familiar somehow.’

Well, it was a fairly common name.

When Yeon-woo knocked, a middle-aged man’s voice came from inside.

– Come in.

Creaking with age, the door opened, and as Yeon-woo turned the corner past the bookshelves, he saw a middle-aged gentleman busily writing amidst a mountain of paperwork.

“Hello, I’m Ryu Yeon-woo, returning to school this year.”

Upon hearing Yeon-woo’s voice, Professor Kim Taekyung looked up.

“Ah, I see.”

With that, the professor’s head dropped back down to his work.

The professor remained engrossed in his documents for quite a while, not even glancing at Yeon-woo. Yeon-woo stood there silently, waiting. After what felt like an inordinately long time, the professor finally looked up.

“Have a seat.”

Yeon-woo was taken aback when he saw the professor’s face as he stood up.

‘Ah… I see.’

A brief smile flickered across Yeon-woo’s lips before disappearing. Professor Kim Taekyung, now seated on the sofa, looked at Yeon-woo and began to speak.

“I’m not particularly interested in popular culture, so I don’t really know the names of celebrities, but I do know you.”

“Is that so?”

Kim Taekyung continued, staring intently at Yeon-woo.

“I’m a straightforward person, so I don’t usually beat around the bush. To be honest, I’m not particularly pleased that Ryu Yeon-woo has joined our department.”

Yeon-woo tilted his head at the professor’s blunt words.

“I haven’t even started my studies here yet. May I ask why you feel that way?”

“Because you won’t gain anything from being in our department. One could argue that you’ve taken the place of another student who could become an economist. After all, no matter what you learn here, you’ll continue your career as an actor.”

Yeon-woo smiled slightly.

“So, you’re uncomfortable with the idea that my enrollment is merely a trophy to be listed on my profile.”

Professor Kim Taekyung thought for a moment and then nodded.

“Well, that aligns with my thoughts. Not that my opinion will change anything.”

In fact, Professor Kim Taekyung had developed a negative impression of Yeon-woo without ever meeting him, due to the constant visits from journalists every time Yeon-woo achieved something, despite having taken a leave of absence immediately after enrolling.

Yeon-woo spoke up, looking at the professor.

“If my achievements as an actor diminish the effort I put into getting admitted through the same legitimate process as everyone else, that, I believe, is truly unfair.”

Professor Kim Taekyung seemed slightly intrigued by Yeon-woo’s confident assertion and adjusted his glasses with his index finger.

Yeon-woo continued, looking at the professor with calm eyes.

“If I had entered the theater and film department because I am an actor, then I would have taken the place of another aspiring actor. By that logic, there would be no department I could join. And do you believe that the knowledge gained from the economics curriculum is only applicable in the financial sector?”

“…Of course not.”

In truth, Yeon-woo had chosen the economics department because continuing his acting career required minimizing the time spent on academics, naturally leading him to select the major he had studied in his past life. However, as humans, we constantly make economic choices throughout our lives, so the knowledge gained from studying economics is not solely for chart analysis or economic forecasting.

“Pfft.”

Seeing Professor Kim Taekyung reluctantly nod, Yeon-woo couldn’t help but laugh. It was a rare moment when his usually stoic demeanor slipped.

“…Why are you laughing?” Professor Kim Taekyung glared at him with a rather displeased expression.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was just reminded of an old memory.”

– University Song Festival

A student with glasses stared intently at a large poster in the central corridor of the College of Business Administration. Another male student, passing by, noticed him and approached, putting an arm around his shoulder.

“Hey, Taekyung. What are you looking at so intently?”

“…Oh, Su-hwan.”

It was Yeon-woo in his past life.

“University Song Festival? Do you like singing?”

“…Not just any singing. I like heavy metal bands.”

“Heavy metal? Like those groups… Red Crumbling or something?”

Taekyung, usually not very outgoing and somewhat distant from his peers, suddenly lit up.

“You know Red Crumbling?”

“Not really, just heard the name.”

“Want to listen? I have a tape and cassette player in my locker!”

Though not particularly interested, Su-hwan nodded, taken aback by Taekyung’s sudden enthusiasm.

“…Sure, why not. Let’s listen.”

“I’m going to be the first heavy metal drummer from Korea University’s economics department. Isn’t that cool?”

“…Yeah, that’s cool.”

Reflecting on the past, Yeon-woo looked at his now-aged peer and quickly composed himself, suppressing the laughter that had slipped out.

‘It’s amusing. The guy who wanted to use his academic background as a trophy throughout college has now become such a traditional professor.’

Yeon-woo chuckled softly, looking at the still-irritated Professor Kim Taekyung. Pointing to the turntable and LP records in the corner of the office, Yeon-woo spoke up.

“Professor, this might seem out of the blue, but what kind of music do you listen to? Do you know bands like Red Crumbling?”

“…Why are you asking such a question out of nowhere, and how do you know that band? It’s not a band someone your age would typically know.”

Though his words were sharp, his expression betrayed him. Despite his age, it was the same look he had worn over 20 years ago in this very building.

“Great music transcends time. For instance, Red Crumbling’s ‘Fantasia.'”

“…You know ‘Fantasia’? You have quite an unusual taste for someone so young.”

Trying to hide it, Professor Kim Taekyung’s face momentarily lit up with genuine interest.

‘Some things never change.’

Whether 20 years ago or now, he might appear cold on the outside, but he was always easy to read.

“While ‘Fantasia’ is great, ‘Blue Star’ is also a classic.”

“…’Blue Star’? I think ‘Roar’ from the same album is even better.”

Their conversation continued, and soon enough, Professor Kim Taekyung was clapping and laughing heartily. The unexpected reunion had Yeon-woo feeling nostalgic, and before he knew it, time had flown by.

“I should get going now.”

“Already?”

Professor Kim Taekyung, who had been enthusiastically talking about the band, looked disappointed.

“It’s been about an hour.”

“Oh, has it been that long?”

Yeon-woo left the professor’s office, with Kim Taekyung seeing him off.

‘It’s fascinating how things turn out. Kim Taekyung, who was determined to become a band’s drummer, is now a professor at his alma mater.’

In his past life, Yeon-woo, known as Jeon Su-hwan, had been more likely to become a professor at Korea University’s economics department. He had been diligent throughout his school life and was known among professors for his dedication.

‘If Taekyung ever finds out about my past, he’d be surprised that I joined the NIS, and even more so about my reincarnation and re-enrollment.’

Yeon-woo chuckled at the thought as he descended the central staircase. On the first floor, students were putting up posters. Reminded of his conversation with Professor Kim Taekyung, Yeon-woo stopped to read the poster after the students left.

– University Theater Festival

‘Not the University Song Festival, but the University Theater Festival?’

Lost in thought, Yeon-woo felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeon-woo! There you are.”

For a moment, he thought it was another memory with Kim Taekyung, but it was Kim Joo-hyung, codenamed ‘Pension Part-timer,’ standing there.