Moonlit Divide was a drama structured around two distinct narrative arcs, each with a beginning, rise, climax, and conclusion.

    The filming for the conclusion of the first arc, “The Union of Lee Hyun and Yeong-wol,” had just wrapped up.

    With about a month left until its first broadcast,

    the early episodes of Moonlit Divide had already been edited and were ready for airing, so there were no major issues.

    “Hmm... the casting for Lovers of the Full Moon still bothers me.”

    “Honestly, we’re at a disadvantage. Over there, even the minor roles are filled with veteran actors.”

    The problem lay in the flood of new articles about Lovers of the Full Moon, a competing drama airing in the same time slot on MBS.

    The two leads of Moonlit Divide, Yoo Sung-jae and Ha-eun, were considered “fresh blood.”

    Both were undoubtedly talented actors, but neither had much experience as main leads.

    In contrast, most of the cast in Lovers of the Full Moon were “proven” actors.

    To exaggerate a little, one might even worry about the budget of MBS’s drama division.

    Just as KBC’s drama division had poured its heart into Moonlit Divide,

    MBS had also sharpened its blade for this showdown.

    Given KBC’s string of failures over the past three years, it was inevitable that they felt the pressure.

    However, when it came to desperation for success, KBC wasn’t about to lose.

    “MPN News asked for our promotional dance footage!”

    “MPN? Isn’t that a cable channel?”

    “So what if it’s cable? They came, interviewed citizens, and even filmed!”

    “Alright, alright, calm down, Writer Kim. You’re way too excited right now.”

    Efforts to aggressively promote the drama, such as the special dance video featuring the main and supporting male actors, were now in full swing.

    Moonlit Divide had to succeed, no matter what.

    This was the year KBC was determined to break its three-year slump.

    For the sake of Moonlit Divide’s success, they were willing to pull out all the stops.

    This is why, less than a week after the release of the special dance video,

    a large-scale production showcase was held.

    The goal was to use the buzz generated by the dance video and amplify it with articles about the showcase.

    “Alright, Sung-jae and Ha-eun, strike your signature poses!”

    “Perfect. Now, turn to the right~.”

    And so, Ha-eun found herself facing a crowd of reporters,

    enduring endless requests for poses,

    and relentless flashes from their cameras.

    ‘...Hope this doesn’t ruin my eyesight.’

    Nothing about this was easy or comfortable, though she kept her composure outwardly.

    The photo time stretched on for quite a while.

    Since it was part of the production showcase, she had no intention of phoning it in.

    ‘How long do I have to stay linked arm-in-arm like this?’

    Striking couple-like poses with Yoo Sung-jae, who played the Crown Prince Lee Hyun, was no easy feat.

    Perhaps it was because she maintained a calm demeanor outside of filming.

    Though her relationship with Sung-jae wasn’t awkward, it was hard to create the lovey-dovey atmosphere or sweet gazes that the reporters seemed to expect.

    If framed positively, it could be called a poker face.

    Negatively, it was plain dry.

    Standing right next to her, Sung-jae couldn’t help but notice Ha-eun’s demeanor.

    Five minutes later, he cautiously whispered to her.

    “...Ha-eun, are you not feeling well today?”

    “...No, I’m fine.”

    “...If anything’s bothering you, let me know right away.”

    “...What’s bothering me is you whispering to me like this.”

    “...Sorry.”

    After his failed attempt to check on her, Sung-jae fell silent again.

    Judging that continuing the couple shots wouldn’t be productive, the organizers shifted to solo shots.

    When it was Ha-eun’s turn to stand alone in front of the cameras, things became much easier.

    While couple shots required her to exude a romantic energy fitting Yeong-wol’s feelings for Lee Hyun,

    solo shots only needed her to showcase Yeong-wol’s weighty, commanding presence.

    ‘She really shines when she’s alone.’

    ‘Wow, she’s still in high school, but that charisma....’

    ‘She’s intense.’

    The burden on Ha-eun’s mind began to lift little by little.

    Though the camera flashes were still blinding, she managed to endure.

    Her solo photo time ended after about three minutes.

    Afterward, she stepped down from the stage, leaving Sung-jae to take his solo photos.

    Once Sung-jae’s session concluded, the Q&A with reporters began.

    -Ding.

    You are the "Murderer." Eliminate all the citizens without being suspected.

    Gasp!Dia’s the murderer?! What is happening?!A one-year-old murderer, LOL.Does she even know what murder means?It’s Dia. She’s gonna get caught instantly.If she gets 2–3 people, that’s already a lot.

    The content of this Phantasm collaboration was a game of “Hide and Seek with a Murderer” within Minecraft.

    The premise was a showdown between a murderer, who must eliminate all the other players,

    and the citizens, who must deduce the murderer’s identity and apprehend them.

    The collaboration featured a total of 9 participants:

    the 5 Phantasm members, joined by 4 members from the Daramji Crew, including Ji Hye-min.

    The key point? Ha-eun, or Dia, had been assigned the sole role of the murderer.

    In other words, from this moment on, Dia had to act and speak as “the murderer.”

    “Alright, everyone! Let’s split up and start looking for clues about the murderer!”

    As the content officially began, Dia abandoned her usual high-energy tone and cheerful voice.

    Even as she wandered around searching for her targets, she kept her voice soft and quiet.

    “Footsteps... I need to follow the footsteps...☆.”

    Her whispering makes her even cuter.Look at that immersion.Dia’s a pro. She’s a total pro.The first ASMR-style murderer, LOL.

    As a result, her energy consumption wasn’t too high.

    The strain on Ha-eun’s throat was also far less than usual.

    Perhaps that’s why—

    “Oh, it’s Dia!”

    “...Hello, unnie....”

    Even when Dia encountered Cream, one of the citizens she had to eliminate, she maintained her low-energy demeanor.

    When Cream asked why she was whispering so much—

    “...What if the murderer is listening somewhere nearby...?”

    “...When you put it that way, that makes sense.”

    Dia justified her quiet tone by attributing it to fear of being overheard by the murderer, making her low tension seem reasonable.

    After all, the citizens were supposed to be running from an unseen murderer at all times.

    As a result, Cream also started whispering, adopting a tone similar to Dia’s.

    Since they had run into each other, Cream decided to stick with Dia and look for clues about the murderer’s identity.

    “Hey, Dia. There’s a chest over there...!”

    But just as Cream discovered her first clue about the murderer—

    -Swish.

    Dia’s avatar, which had been holding nothing until now, suddenly equipped a small, sharp object.

    And just seconds later—

    “...Goodbye☆.”

    -Slash!

    “?!?!?!!?!”

    In a swift, clean move, Cream’s avatar was completely eliminated.

    AAAAHHHH!What the heck just happened?!What was that voice?!That was so chilling, OMG.Cream, I just lost it.Is that really Dia?!

    “Oh, um... hold on. I got so scared. Let me, um, go get some water.”

    Even as Cream got up from her streaming chair and headed to the living room, her hands were still trembling slightly.

    Her heart was still pounding.

    ‘Why does it have to be Ha-eun?’

    The chilling voice she had just heard refused to leave Cream’s mind.

    Was this what people meant by “a professional moment”?

    For someone like Cream, an ordinary person, seeing through Ha-eun’s acting was almost impossible.

    She had been completely fooled.

    Strictly speaking, there were still seven citizens left, but—

    for some reason, it felt like none of them would be able to uncover Dia’s identity as the murderer.