Life is Easier If You're Handsome novel Chapter 305

As if he were the real Batman, the long barrel of the gun precisely aimed at the enemies’ solar plexuses.

Non-lethal rounds.

So they wouldn’t die.

But the pain would be enough to make them wish they had.

Bang!

The muzzle flared—marking the start of the hunt.

“Gah!”

His target areas were limited.

The solar plexus.

Ribs.

Collarbones.

Pelvis.

Maybe even the knees.

Of course, he could just hit flesh at random, but in a multi-opponent fight like this, every bullet counted.

Normally, seeing someone with superior force would make them hesitate or cower...

But the freaks in clown makeup showed no such signs.

There was only one reason.

“A gun? So what if you’ve got a gun?!”

“Ahahahaha! It stings! It really stings! But you know what? That feeling—it’s kind of amazing! Huh?!”

They were high.

It was Smile, the same drug he had seen during the subway incident.

Upon investigation, they discovered two main components:

“Up,” which heightened mood—and “Psychedelic,” which induced hallucinations.

Combined, they instantly transformed a person—body and mind.

And apparently... it still worked even after getting shot.

Ratatatatatat!

They had no hesitation, even with bullets flying. Even with the risk of instant death if hit in the eyes, the clown-faced maniacs laughed giddily as they charged in.

“This is great! Great! Let’s keep going!”

“What should I call you? The bat costume guy... um, what was it again?”

“Right, they said he was called Batman! They called you Batman!”

They?

What did they mean?

He didn’t have time to ask.

He was already in the middle of the brawl with the laughing lunatics.

Crash!

He stumbled, tripping over a fallen enemy’s leg—a rookie mistake from his still-short experience as a vigilante.

But it was fine.

Ping!

Clang!

“This isn’t just some cosplay, huh?”

“Yeah. Definitely not.”

The suit was crafted solely for him. No compromise on cost or practicality.The pinnacle of Wayne Technology.

Woven from specialized fibers—

Not that I understood the explanation anyway.

Regardless, the suit covered his entire body, so the blows from drugged-out maniacs were largely negligible.

Whack!

Wham!

Thud!

Fists weren’t efficient in group combat.

They took too long to incapacitate an opponent.

And if the target was high, their pain receptors were dulled.

So the best tactic?

“Blunt-force trauma to the head.”

Causing unconsciousness through concussions—a blackout independent of pain.

Crack!

The superheated barrel drove cleanly into a clown’s temple.

It looked like wild brawling, but in truth, it was choreographed professional wrestling.

There was a script.

A planned sequence.

Ad-libs weren’t supposed to °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° happen.

But with so many bodies flying around, variables were inevitable.

“Ah—Aaaargh!”

A stunt actor, so off-balance he forgot to act like he was high, grabbed his cape on instinct.

Tight!

A reflex for survival, trying to keep from landing on his head.

But it threatened to pull him down too.

“You’re thrashing now, huh?”

He spat out the line that flashed through his mind, grabbed the guy by the collar—and slam!—drove him down onto the padded flooring with perfect technique.

Then chaos erupted again. A group brawl.

All he could do was flip his gun around, grip it like a tonfa, and—

Smash!

Thwack!

Crack!

Crush the heads of the clowns with precision.

He didn’t kill them. He couldn’t kill them. Because if they died—everything would end.

Because monsters like them might one day stand near his parents, and just thinking about that enraged him so much that his body stopped itself before it could kill.

“To stay alive... will be far more painful for you.”

He would grant them an eternal night.

The moment that line left his mouth—

“Cut!”

The director shouted the OK signal as if he’d been waiting for it.

Not a single person in clown makeup remained standing.

***

"With this scene, Batman’s filming is pretty much wrapped up."

"And since Joker’s parts are steadily moving along too... Looks like the whole shoot is nearing its end."

After filming finished, I took off the suit and had a conversation with Director Cristo about various things.

"We’re expecting the release date to be... probably October."

"Early October?"

"Yes. With editing and all... filming should wrap by early March."

It normally would’ve taken longer, but Warner Bros. had reportedly provided an absurd amount of support.

That’s how Cristo put it.

“There’s more riding on this than I thought, so I’m really fired up. Especially for the Murcielago series going forward...”

"Right. At this point, it’s time to deliver results."

There was still Joker filming left, plus stunt double issues to resolve, and the story to push forward.

Eventually, as time passed—

『Murcielago shoot: still no updates? What’s going on?』

Headlines like this would start to flood in again. And they’d drag us straight to the guillotine.

Since this was a commercial film, and since there’d been heavy investment aiming for maximum profit, it wasn’t surprising that critics and doubters were sharpening their knives.

Somewhere out there, people are probably performing rituals hoping we flop.

Honestly, if I didn’t know the grade of this project, the pressure alone would’ve been crushing. Acting as both Batman and Joker under this kind of investment without knowing it was rated S+?

‘It’s gonna be a hard night.’

‘Rrrrrr! I can’t take it anymore!’

The ideal plan would be to do both: one variety appearance, and one YouTube video.

Maybe I’ll do the YouTube video in the Batman suit.

I’d begged to keep the suit before, but of course, the first answer was a hard NO.

Too risky. Leaks, maintenance issues, too expensive to remake—blah blah blah.

So I gave up on it.

But then, out of nowhere—boom, I got it.

“He actually made the suit part of the contract terms...”

Seokho hyung’s brilliance had come through.

Now, the suit was mine.

I’ve got to do something fun with it...

But no killer idea had struck me yet.

For now... I’ll just enjoy the party.

Play hard when it’s time to play.

Eventually, as the party mellowed out, only Sujin, Yerim, and I were left sitting together.

“...So, did you and Chisako... do it?”

A very drunk Sujin asked the question mid-hiccup.

“...What?”

“Eh?!”

Yerim, also clearly drunk, widened her eyes in shock.

“I said—hic—did you do it?”

“...You did, didn’t you?”

“You did?!”

Yerim gasped even more dramatically, probably because she was tipsy.

And then, somehow, the conversation derailed even further.

“Two... two isn’t enough?”

“Need three of us to handle you? Hic!”

“Honestly... this right here! This is the problem!”

Tap tap.

Sujin slapped my thigh—or more accurately, that area—with her flushed face and drunken sincerity.

"You’re! Just too damn good! Hic!"

“...Honestly, I thought I’d built up stamina from modeling, but it’s too much.”

“Kim Dooonghuhuuuuu~ Hic! You have to take full responsibility for us!”

Thump.

Sujin collapsed onto the sofa after that bold declaration.

“...”

Yerim nodded silently—then promptly passed out too.

Now that I thought about it, yeah, we drank a lot.

“...Four bottles of whiskey?”

Everyone had clearly built up some drinking tolerance from acting and modeling.

***

After the party ended, I made my appearance on a Korean variety show.

And the first thing they asked me to do—

"Alright! Let’s start light! Donghu, how about a body shot?"

They wanted to punch me in the stomach.

“Wow, but seriously... Donghu hyung has insane endurance...”

“Can’t believe we’re seeing this on national TV.”

“Hit him hard, no holding back!”

...Are you serious?