I Acted Once, and Now They Call Me a Genius - Chapter 256

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 256
“Kim Seon-woo, having fun?”
Not long after the audition ended, Yu Ran grabbed a drink with Min-hee. Min-hee nodded.
“It’s an unusual character.”
“I heard he’s only been acting for two years. Anyway, there are too many monsters in this industry. I don’t know how much longer I can hold on here.”
“By the time you burn out, I’ll probably be gone too. Should we join hands and open something together? A flower shop sounds nice.”
“You don’t realize how brutal flower shop work is? Up at dawn hitting the market, hauling flowers, moving pots around. It’s absolutely grueling.”
“So you’re saying no?”
“No, I’m completely into it. I’m honestly built for physical labor.”
Yu Ran flashed a grin.
Min-hee let out a soft laugh watching her.
“The troupe was really fun when you were around.”
“Tell me about it. But now you’re gone.”
“……I didn’t want to leave, either.”
Officially, she was still a member of Cheongseong—though Min-hee didn’t bother with excuses like that.
The reality was simple: broadcasting had become her priority over the troupe.
“But I have to make a living somehow. It’s the only way I can keep acting longer.”
“I get it. No hard feelings. That’s just reality. Honestly, I couldn’t be doing this freely if my parents weren’t supporting me. But when I heard even Do-young was going into broadcasting, I was actually shocked. I thought he’d never touch it.”
“I guess reality works that way.”
“Right. So I’m actually excited about this. If people start appreciating theater more because of this opportunity…”
Yu Ran smiled.
It was a childlike smile.
“I’m already excited.”
“……That you are.”
Min-hee found herself smiling as she watched her.
Yu Ran was simple. She loved theater, she wanted theater to succeed—that was all.
Min-hee had always adored this person, untangled and luminous, always confident and bright.
“Anyway, back to the point.”
Yu Ran’s eyes sparkled.
“Everyone kept talking about Kim Seon-woo, so I was curious. His emotional line is seriously twisted. Now I see exactly why he blew up.”
“He’s obsessive about that kind of thing. More obsessed with his roles than even with acting itself, I’d say. He’s more unstable than you are.”
“I’m perfectly stable.”
“Sure, sure.”
Min-hee answered flatly.
How could someone who’d quit a stable corporate job to throw herself into theater be stable?
Yu Ran clicked her tongue at the sight of her.
“I don’t get why everyone thinks I’m abnormal. If you love acting, you focus on it—that’s natural, isn’t it?”
“It’s the intensity of that focus that makes the difference. You think about nothing but acting, night and day. But you probably won’t understand this anyway…… Do you know what mirror therapy is?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Watch Seon-woo.”
Min-hee smiled.
“Then it’ll become mirror therapy for you.”
It was cryptic.
What kind of mirror therapy was that supposed to be?
Fortunately—or not—Yu Ran would soon find out.
“……What is all this?”
“Academic papers.”
“Academic papers?”
“Yes. Everything from the Fourth Wall Acting Technique to modern theatrical techniques and methods. There’s a lot of research out there. Would you like to look through them together? I printed some extras just in case.”
“That’s…… not necessary.”
Yu Ran shook her head with a reluctant expression.
While she was serious enough about acting to attend acting schools across the world, what interested her was practical technique, not theory.
Not that she’d never studied theory—but she had no desire to leaf through academic papers like this.
‘……He’s not normal.’
Yu Ran looked at Seon-woo with reservation.
Most actors took their roles seriously, true—but someone burning with this much academic fervor was rare.
Still, Seon-woo couldn’t help it.
He’d already felt his own lack of experience on the stage. He’d stepped on stage briefly at Cheongseong once, but he’d moved to broadcasting before truly understanding the essence of theater.
And yet Seon-woo had landed the role of Jun-seo.
That meant he had to do his best to avoid letting down the production.
First, Seon-woo felt he needed to completely reassess his vocal technique. In theater acting, unlike broadcast acting, your voice had to carry all the way to the back row of the audience.
Vocal projection itself had to be fundamentally different.
Amplifying volume alone might not be terribly difficult, but sustaining emotion while maintaining that volume wasn’t simple at all.
What Seon-woo needed now was practice and study.
That’s why he’d been reading the papers…
Tap.
Yu Ran grabbed the papers from Seon-woo and set them on the table. When Seon-woo looked at her in confusion, she shook her head.
“Reading papers like this all day won’t help—well, it might, but it’s inefficient. You’d be better off just practicing directly.”
“……You’ll help?”
“Yes. Let’s start with your vocal projection. When I saw you last time, you seemed a little weak. Here, can you try this line?”
It felt awkward to deliver lines on the spot, but as an actor, this was something you had to get used to. This was their profession, after all.
Seon-woo opened his mouth without hesitation.
“If we only met because of excitement…… then yes, it’s right that we part.”
“Mm.”
And Yu Ran nodded.
Without giving him time to sink into emotion, the performance was three-dimensional—Jun-seo emerged from the script as if alive.
Truly, you could call him a famous actor. Honestly, in terms of emotional subtlety…… Yu Ran couldn’t even imagine competing with him.
‘He’s definitely different.’
A natural bearer of star energy and persona.
His innate emotional line was so three-dimensional and deep that even small feelings held a charm that completely absorbed you.
Right.
If that expression reached them, if that voice reached them, then certainly it would.
“That’s definitely not stage vocal technique.”
“……It’s actually quite difficult. The emotional line is subdued, but I need to project my voice.”
“Exactly—your vocal projection isn’t there yet. You haven’t done any dedicated stage vocal training, have you?”
“Unfortunately…… no.”
Seon-woo nodded.
His schedule was already packed just handling his current commitments.
Adding stage vocal training on top of that would have dropped way down the priority list.
Yu Ran held no blame for that.
Still, his current projection was definitely weak, and that was a problem.
“……To be honest, if we’re just doing broadcast work, it might not be a huge issue.”
Yu Ran shrugged.
“You’ll be wearing a separate mic during filming anyway. Your voice will record fine. The unique feeling of stage projection might be a bit dulled, but if we coordinate well with the sound team, it shouldn’t be hard to carry your voice to the audience.”
It was a reasonable approach, perhaps.
Mastering stage projection completely in such a short time would be impossible.
“But that’s not what I want to do.”
Seon-woo shook his head.
He wanted to do it properly. He didn’t come here to film a drama or a movie. He came to do theater.
If he couldn’t deliver a truly theatrical performance…… it would be a disgrace to the other members of Cheongseong.
Yu Ran studied his eyes quietly.
“Doing it properly will be extremely difficult, though?”
“It might sound cocky to say this.”
Seon-woo scratched his head, embarrassed.
He didn’t want it to come across as arrogant.
“But I’m someone who gets through difficult things no matter what.”
“Wow. That’s cool. I respect that.”
Yu Ran gave him a thumbs up.
And added quietly:
“Resonance.”
“……What?”
“Your voice isn’t projecting far because you don’t have enough resonance. Don’t think of raising your voice—think of creating resonance. Try the line like this. Ahhhhh—”
“Ahhhhh—”
“Yes, exactly like that.”
Yu Ran nodded.
Seon-woo’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“It’s definitely better than before, but I’m overcomplicating the resonance.”
“That makes sense. It’s similar to singing, in a way. If you focus on the sound, you lose the emotion; if you focus on the emotion, the sound falls apart. But didn’t you work a theater stage before?”
“……I thought I did okay at the time, but looking back now, I don’t think so.”
Seon-woo felt heat rise to his face.
It was embarrassing, in retrospect, to have stood before an audience with such clumsy projection.
He’d thought he’d mastered the basics with his “Uh, uh, uh, bah, bah, bah, dak, dak, dak” vocal drill…
‘I’d barely grasped the basics.’
But Seon-woo’s eyes brightened.
A concrete problem had appeared, so now all he had to do was focus on it.
Resonance.
He had to achieve true resonance.
Watching him, Yu Ran thought to herself:
‘This is going to be hard.’
Creating resonance and infusing emotion into that resonance wasn’t something you could do overnight. It took years and years of work to master properly.
Resonance was one of the most powerful tools that made theater-trained actors stand out with such distinct presence.
But Yu Ran didn’t say any of that.
When someone was earnestly trying to improve, there was no need to discourage them with harsh truths.
Her involvement ended here.
Yu Ran planted the seed of resonance in Seon-woo’s mind and returned her focus to preparing her own performance. She had high expectations for this production.
And it was that night.
“Ahhhhh—”
As rehearsal ended and it came time to leave, Yu Ran spotted Seon-woo still on stage, practicing resonance toward the audience seats.
It was already midnight…… and he seemed intent on more practice before heading home.
But Yu Ran’s attention ended there. She was too tired herself to offer any more guidance.
Yu Ran went home.
And the next morning she reported back to the theater company,
‘?’
And found Seon-woo.
There on stage again, practicing resonance. His clothes were different, so he must have gone home—
‘When did he go home?’
Yu Ran had only slept six hours herself before coming back.
Yet he’d arrived earlier despite getting home later than her?
Yu Ran clicked her tongue internally.
‘When passion ignites like that, it burns him out later.’
Enthusiasm was good.
But everything burned out fast if you rushed it, leaving only ash. It was worrying, but…… it wasn’t her place to intervene.
They were only loosely acquainted, even as senior and junior.
Anyway, he was a professional—he’d know how to pace himself.
It took another week to learn that assumption was wrong.
During that week, Seon-woo left the theater later than anyone and arrived earlier than anyone.
And he wasn’t just killing time when he was there.
Every moment was so densely packed that it was clear he was pouring everything into preparation for the play.
And,
“Ahhhhh—————”
“…….”
The resonance that had been clumsy at first was now strong enough to vibrate not just Yu Ran’s ears as she stood at the back of the audience, but her entire body…
—Watch Seon-woo.
In that moment, Yu Ran found herself recalling Min-hee’s words.
—Then it’ll become mirror therapy for you.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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