From A Producer To A Global Superstar-Chapter 278: Min-ji Scene

The applause from the previous take hadn’t fully died down when Dayo clapped his hands once, sharp and decisive.

"Alright," he said. "Good work. Let’s reset. Next scene."

The energy on set shifted immediately.

Crew members moved with purpose. Cameras were repositioned. Lighting rigs were adjusted to mimic the harsh, flickering glow of an abandoned train station. Props were brought in—loose debris, shattered signage, bent metal railings. The artificial fog machine hummed softly, filling the space with a thin, oppressive haze.

This was one of those scenes.

The kind that didn’t rely on dialogue or spectacle, but on raw emotion.

Dayo’s eyes moved across the cast as they gathered near the tracks.

Five characters.

Park Sang-hwa.

Seong-kyeong, his pregnant wife.

Su-an, the child.

Seong-gyu.

And Jin-hee.

Jin-hee which was played by Min-Ji.

Min-Ji stood among them, already in costume. Her hair was slightly disheveled, clothes dirtied from earlier scenes, face bare except for subtle makeup meant to suggest exhaustion and fear. She wasn’t chatting. She wasn’t laughing.

She was focused.

Beside her stood Young-guk—the boy her character cared for. A quiet, awkward teenage presence, shoulders tense, eyes darting around as if zombies might appear at any second.

Dayo stepped forward.

"This scene," he said calmly, "is where things break."

Everyone went silent.

"You’re not heroes here. You’re not brave. You’re tired. You’re scared. You’re making decisions too fast because you don’t have time to think."

He looked directly at Min-Jae.

"Jin-hee, this is where your innocence ends."

Min-Ji swallowed and nodded.

Dayo continued. "You and Young-guk split off to find a way into the next station. You wave the others forward. Then the crash happens."

He gestured toward the set where a derailed train had been constructed at an angle, metal twisted, sparks ready to be added in post-production.

"That impact separates you."

He paused.

"From this point on, everything is reaction. Don’t act ahead. Don’t plan the emotion. Let it happen."

He stepped back and raised his hand.

"Positions."

Min-Ji and Young-guk moved toward the far side of the platform. The rest of the group stayed behind the imaginary wreckage line. Crew members confirmed camera angles.

Dayo watched Min-Jae carefully.

Her posture was right. Her breathing wasn’t controlled—it was uneven. Natural.

Good.

"Rolling," the assistant director called.

"Sound."

"Camera."

Dayo’s gaze sharpened.

"Action."

They ran.

Footsteps echoed against concrete. Jin-hee’s breath came in sharp bursts as she sprinted alongside Young-guk, both of them glancing back as if death itself was chasing them.

"There!" Young-guk shouted, pointing.

Jin-hee waved frantically toward the others, her arm cutting through the air.

"This way! Hurry!"

Then—

The sound.

A deafening metallic scream as another train barreled in.

The impact shook the entire set. The camera rattled slightly—intentional. Sparks flew. Debris scattered.

The world split in two.

Jin-hee and Young-guk stumbled backward as the wreckage cut them off from the others. Smoke filled the air.

"No—!" Jin-hee screamed, rushing forward instinctively, only to be dragged back.

The others were gone. Separated.

Silence followed. Thick. Heavy.

Jin-hee stood frozen, chest heaving, eyes wide as she stared at the wreckage.

Young-guk grabbed her wrist.

"We— we have to move," he said, voice shaking.

They found a train car door nearby.

Locked.

Young-guk climbed, pulling down a piece of metal from above, slamming it against the door.

Bang.

Bang.

Jin-hee stood guard, looking behind them.

That was when he appeared.

The man.

The selfish one the same one who refused to open the door for them when came into the train and let one of the get killed by the zombies.

He stepped out of the shadows, eyes wild, desperation etched into his face. Before either of them could react, he lunged.

"Hey—!"

He grabbed Jin-hee.

Time slowed.

Her gasp was sharp, genuine. Her body twisted as he shoved her forward—

Straight toward the oncoming zombies.

She hit the ground hard.

The impact knocked the breath from her lungs.

Hands grabbed her.

Teeth snapped inches from her face.

Her scream tore through the air.

Young-guk reacted instantly.

He charged, slamming into the zombie, dragging it away from her, throwing it out through the open gap. He slammed the door shut and locked it.

Jin-hee lay there, shaking.

The man who pushed her had escaped.

Young-guk turned to her, eyes red.

"Run," she whispered.

He hesitated.

"Run!" she shouted, panic bleeding into her voice.

But he didn’t move.

"I can’t," he said, voice breaking. "I’m sorry."

Jin-hee shook her head, tears spilling freely now.

"No— no, it’s not—"

She didn’t finish.

"Grahgjghh."

She saw it in his eyes.

Fear. Guilt. Acceptance.

Behind her, the zombies pressed closer.

She turned.

And charged.

The scream she let out wasn’t fear.

It was defiance.

She slammed into the zombie, biting, clawing, fighting with everything she had. The sound was raw. Ugly. Real.

Young-guk watched, frozen, tears streaming down his face.

Then—

Cut.

Dayo’s voice rang out across the set.

"CUT!"

Silence.

Then—

Applause.

Not loud at first. Then stronger. Crew members clapped openly. Some nodded to themselves. Others exchanged looks.

Min-Jae was still on the ground, chest rising and falling rapidly. It took a moment before she realized it was over.

Dayo walked toward her.

He didn’t speak immediately.

He crouched slightly, meeting her eye level.

"That," he said calmly, "was good."

Min-Jae blinked, still emotional.

"Really?"

He nodded. "Yes. But we’ll do another take."

She laughed weakly, wiping her face.

"Okay."

Of course she saw it coming.

Dayo stood and turned to the crew.

"Reset All of you we would be back in 20. Same energy. Same fear. Don’t polish it."

He glanced back at Min-Jae.

"Don’t protect yourself this time," he added quietly. "Let it hurt be feel the momwnt of disheartening when you are turning to bite someone that you love."

Min-Jae straightened, eyes steady now.

"I will."

As the crew moved back into position, Dayo stepped away, watching her take her place again.

Her movements were different now.

More grounded.

More real.

He smiled faintly.

This was why he chose her.

And as the cameras rolled once more, Dayo knew—

this scene would stay with the audience long after the movie ended.