Chapter 37.2

Chapter 37.2

Byungjin jabbed her chest with the rolled-up script, pushing her back slightly with each jab, leaving red marks on her delicate skin. Terrified, tears fell from Miran’s eyes.

“N-no, I didn’t mean…”

“F-ck! Still talking back? A nobody who can’t even f+ck!ng act…”

The director raised his script, and Miran instinctively raised her arms in defense. Just as he was about to hit her, his arm twisted backward with a sickening crack.

“AHH! Wh-who the hell…?!”

The director twisted in agony, clutching his shoulder.

“Ah! Aaargh! It hurts! Let go!”

The staff members were too shocked to react as a large foreigner suddenly appeared and twisted the director’s arm.

“Kang Miran, come here.”

Andre extended his hand. Miran lowered her arms slowly, tears of relief welling up as she alternated glances between the director writhing in pain and Andre’s outstretched hand.

Miran grasped his hand as if it were her lifeline, clinging to his dry warmth with her cold, sweaty palms. Pulling her to him, Andre positioned her behind him, shielding her from the director’s gaze.

“Holy sh=t! Call the cops! This crazy b1star3rd dislocated my shoulder!”

Byungjin wailed, calling for his assistant director. Seongho, a large man, approached hesitantly but stopped short of touching Andre, simply gesturing in an attempt to mediate.

“Y-you can’t do this here. Kang Miran, stop him!”

Andre’s ice-cold gaze shifted to Seongho, who flinched and took a step back. Without looking away from the men, Andre said to Miran over his shoulder.

“Do you want to stay here?”

He paused, surveying the scene around him.

The director was attacked by a bully who appeared out of nowhere and nobody dared approach Andre. The crew seemed glued to the spot, entranced by the raw spectacle as though they were watching a thrilling action scene, more exciting than any scripted scene.

Finally, Andre turned to Miran, catching her eye.

“Or do you want to leave?”

“I-I want to leave! Please, I want to go,” she pleaded, clinging to his hand, her voice choked with sobs.

At that, he released the director’s arm as if discarding something vile. The director’s shoulder slumped oddly, as if dislocated.

“Aaagh!”

With a guttural scream, the director clutched his shoulder, writhing on the floor. Seongho scrambled to his side, lifting the limp arm with exaggerated alarm.

“Oh sh=t! Director! His arm is dislocated! Hey, does anyone know how to pop a shoulder back in? Someone call 911! 911!”

Byungjin batted Seongho aside, glaring with bloodshot eyes as he screamed at Miran.

“F+ck, you b(tch! You wretched…filthy…! I’ll make sure you never set foot in Chungmuro again!”

Terror flashed in Miran’s eyes as she cowered in fear. Andre glanced at her, then brushed her hand away, turning to face the director.

“If I ever see you again, I’m going to strip you n@!ked and film you while all the boys here take turns f-!ck~ng your h0le—”

Andre didn’t give him a chance to finish. With one powerful, swift step, he kicked the director square in the solar plexus, sending him sprawling backward like a soccer ball.

“Ahh!”

With a strangled cry, Byungjin was shoved back a step, his eyes rolling back as he collapsed, convulsing.

Swiftly blocking Miran’s line of sight, Andre straightened his shoulders like a gentleman escorting a lady at a ball, lightly placing his hand on her back. Gesturing toward the exit, he spoke calmly, as though he couldn’t hear the chaos erupting behind him.

“Let’s go.”