Several weeks had passed since the first day of filming, the so-called ‘Violence Revolution.’

The filming site of the movie ‘Requiem of Iron and Blood’ had transformed into a kind of battlefield, ruled by madness and frenzy.

At first, the prevailing common sense of filmmaking in this world had been ‘beautiful and elegant.’

However, the potent drug called ‘brutalist realism’ that I brought in rapidly infected the entire set, rewriting the awareness of both staff and cast from the ground up.

That change manifested most clearly in the action scenes.

The stuntwomen who once prioritized ballet-like spins and finishing poses no longer hesitated to be caked in mud and dust.

“Lower! Drop your center of gravity! Grab the ground with your lower body!”

As my furious shouts rang out, they were slammed against the concrete ground again and again.

The sound of their breakfalls was dull and heavy.

Yet the instant cut was called, instead of crying out in pain, they ran to the monitors and shouted.

“That one looked insanely painful, didn’t it!?”

“Ahh, damn it! I could’ve gone flying even more spectacularly!”

They treated bruises as medals of honor, competing over who looked ‘the most realistically beaten.’

Rather than awakening to masochism, it was the pride of professional craftsmen being ignited.

The conventions of gun action were overturned as well.

Until now, guns in movies had been treated like ‘wands that shoot glowing beams.’

No recoil, fired gracefully with one hand, that was the theory.

I rejected that outright.

“Listen. A gun is a lump of iron. When you fire it, gunpowder explodes and the impact is enough to shatter your wrist. You suppress that with your entire body.”

I gave up my breaks and drilled every cast member relentlessly in ‘recoil control’ and ‘remaining ammunition management.’

Holding back blinking in sync with the timing of the muzzle flash at the moment of firing.

The lingering pause after shooting, as if inhaling the scent of gun smoke.

The procedure for magazine changes.

As a result, the gunfights on screen gained an entirely different order of tension.

The heroines gripping their guns with both hands, bodies stiffening with every shot, conveyed a far more desperate ‘exchange of lives’ than any fabricated elegance ever could.

And more than anything, what supported the set was ‘food.’

Day after day of filming that stretched deep into the night.

The sole salvation for the utterly exhausted staff was the ‘mass meals’ I cooked.

One day, it was a massive stockpot filled with pork miso soup.

Large-cut root vegetables, fat rendered from pork belly melting into the miso and forming a golden sheen on the surface.

That steaming bowl beneath the cold sky warmed their chilled bodies from the core.

Another day, it was bomb rice balls.

The fillings were salmon, kelp, spicy cod roe and fried chicken.

Wrapped crisply in seaweed, so large it took both hands just to hold, they bit into them.

“Akutsu Jō-san, this really hits the soul…”

“I could die for this pork miso soup…”

Before long, despite being the most terrifying villain, I had established a position like the set’s ‘mom.’

Stomachs bind tightly.

With a single command from me, the staff worked like death soldiers and the cast delivered performances beyond their limits.

* * *

And then came the final day of filming, the crucial day to shoot the story’s last scene.

The location was the rooftop of an abandoned building in the bay area.

The time was evening.

The sun was sinking toward the horizon, the sky dyed in a purple-and-orange gradient known as ‘magic hour,’ a magical window of only a few minutes said to be when the god of cinema descends.

Failure was not an option.

The one-shot tension made the rooftop air crackle.

“…Are you ready?”

Director Kujō Hibiki asked quietly.

There was none of her usual joking tone in that voice.

The cameraman, lighting crew and sound team all returned silent thumbs-ups.

Tennoji Karen, the lead actress and I faced each other at the center of the set.

Tennoji Karen looked nothing like the ‘refined young lady’ she’d been at the start of filming.

Her branded costume was torn to shreds, soot and fake blood clinging to her pale cheeks.

Her hair was disheveled, her breathing rough.

But her eyes alone burned with a wild, blazing light.

Over the past month, battered by the foreign element that was me, she had transformed.

From a mere idol actress into a true ‘actor.’

“…I’m going in, Akutsu Jō.”

“…Yeah. Come at me intending to kill.”

We nodded to each other with few words.

The clapperboard snapped.

“—Action!!”

With Kujō Hibiki’s shout, the world switched.

We started running.

The bullets were gone.

Both of us had lost our weapons, left to clash with nothing but our bodies in a muddy brawl.

Bang!!

Our bodies collided violently.

I grabbed her arm without mercy and tried to throw her.

Tennoji Karen resisted, clutching my collar and clinging on.

This wasn’t choreographed combat.

It was a beast-like grappling match driven by surging emotion.

My fist grazed past Tennoji Karen’s face.

Her knee drove into my side ‘over the protective gear, but the impact was real’.

Sweat sprayed, harsh breaths intermingled.

“Hah, hah! It’s over!!”

“…Not yet!!”

I shoved Tennoji Karen away.

She rolled awkwardly, but immediately took a breakfall and grabbed a handgun from the rubble.

It was the fated gun she had lost at the beginning of the story and that had been left here.

I, too, reached into my coat.

From here was the ‘altered final scene’ I had proposed in the meeting room that day.

I slowly raised both hands.

A pose of surrender.

The setting sun shone from behind me, casting a long shadow.

“…Heh. I lose.”

I twisted my mouth into a warped smile and stepped toward Tennoji Karen.

She kept the muzzle trained on me, her trembling finger on the trigger.

Conflict, love and hate and duty as a detective.

“…Don’t move.”

“Got it… Put the cuffs on me.”

I opened my coat defenselessly.

Her guard loosened for just an instant.

In that moment.

Crunch.

I stomped hard on the gravel at my feet.

My right hand moved faster than the eye could follow.

A concealed knife, its tip flashing toward Tennoji Karen’s heart.

Killing intent.

One hundred percent pure, untainted malice.

The sound of her breath catching.

Then, a thunderous roar.

Booooom!!

The muzzle flash bleached my vision white.

An impact tore through my chest.

My body jerked backward as if blown away.

The knife slipped from my hand and clattered dryly across the ground.

Staggering, I looked down at my chest.

Red fake blood instantly dyed my white shirt.

Hot, painful, strength draining away.

Was this acting? Or had I really been shot? The immersion was enough to cloud my consciousness.

I collapsed to my knees.

The cold of the ground seeped into them.

Ahead of me stood Tennoji Karen, frozen with the gun still raised.

A single tear slid down her cheek.

Watching it dimly, I twisted my lips into a grin.

I bit down on the fake blood capsule hidden in my mouth.

Fresh crimson spilled from the corner of my lips.

No apologies were needed.

No words of love were needed.

Leaving only a curse and obsession behind, I would go.

“…Heh.”

Gathering my last strength, I whispered hoarsely.

“…I’ll be waiting in hell.”

With those words, the light faded from my eyes.

Strength drained from my body and I fell onto my back.

The burning sunset filled my vision.

That was the final sight seen by the mafia boss, Akutsu Jō.

…

Several seconds after I stopped moving.

Or perhaps a span that felt like eternity.

Only the sound of wind echoed across the set.

No one moved.

No one spoke.

Through viewfinders and monitors, the staff witnessed the spectacular death of one man and were paralyzed by the afterimage.

Even director Kujō Hibiki had forgotten to call cut from sheer intensity.

At last.

She drew in a deep, trembling breath.

“…C-cu… Cutoooo!!”

A shout like a battle cry.

“Okaaay!! All scenes complete! It’s a wrap!!”

The tension exploded.

Cheers erupted.

Filming ended in a perfect grand finale.

…Though for me, it was merely the beginning of a very long ‘feast.’