The morning air was already heavy with tension, though the orchard glowed in golden light. Crew members were whispering into earpieces, cameras shifting on their mounts, while the chant of the protesters outside beat against the set like waves against a breakwater. Signs bobbed over the heads of the small crowd clustered near the gate—No Violence on TV! Boycott Until Do-jin Is Gone! A few hotheaded youths still threw words sharper than their placards, voices straining to be heard over the hum of the broadcast equipment inside.
The sound changed when the black sedan rolled slowly up the narrow road and stopped near the entrance. Even before the door opened, the energy outside shifted. Protesters craned their necks, security stiffened, and PD Kang Jin-ho's eyes sharpened. He didn't even need to speak—the moment the rear door clicked open, his hand slashed the air in a silent command to his camera team: Get this. All of it.
