I Acted Once, and Now They Call Me a Genius - Chapter 39

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 39

 

Seo Jin-wook’s sudden outburst.

 

It would be better not to repeat the words that were exchanged between the two after that. The language was aggressive enough to make anyone feel bad just from hearing it.

 

What mattered was that emotions had escalated to the point where the production team had to intervene and break them up.

 

It seemed like both of them might end up being removed from the show at this rate.

 

Fortunately, they managed to mediate the situation before it went that far.

 

Ye-chan muttered.

 

“That’s interesting. I didn’t know Senior Jin-wook had this side to him.”

 

“The side that fights with people?”

 

“No, the side that stood up for Si-on.”

 

Hmm. That’s true.

 

Seon-woo nodded.

 

He clearly remembered that when they first came here, Jin-wook had said something like “Wouldn’t it be better for us if they fail, since it would increase our chances of survival?”… What could have changed him like this?

 

Could he really have acted that way just because he couldn’t control his temper?

 

Anyway, he was worried about Si-on.

 

He had been thoroughly humiliated in front of everyone.

 

But asking him directly if he was okay seemed awkward, so Seon-woo had to ask Ye-chan instead.

 

“Is Si-on okay?”

 

“Oh, you don’t need to worry. That guy Si-on is tougher than you’d think. He’s not a crybaby, he’s actually quite resilient. If anything, after getting beaten down like that, you could say his fighting spirit is fired up?”

 

“That’s a relief.”

 

It was somewhat unexpected.

 

The Si-on he had in mind was just a young and weak kid.

 

Maybe children need to be raised in the field rather than in a greenhouse to truly grow. He felt like he had learned another page about the mysteries of education.

 

Well, in any case, it was fortunate that he was okay.

 

Thanks to that, he could focus on the script again.

 

‘It really is well written.’

 

The storyline of [Those in the Sealed Room] goes as follows.

 

Five characters regain consciousness to find themselves suddenly confined in a sealed room, and they fall into panic.

 

As time passes, the characters gradually realize the way they can escape from the sealed room.

 

Overcoming the very problems they each possess.

 

Coward must find courage,

 

Braggart must face the truth.

 

Drunkard must break his dependence on alcohol,

 

Troublemaker must… abandon his hatred for the world.

 

Each time someone accomplishes this, the sealed room goes dark, and when the lights come back on, they have vanished from the sealed room.

 

One by one they leave the sealed room…

 

Until finally, only Mute remains alone.

 

And with Mute opening his mouth, the play comes to an end.

 

Whether Mute finally found his voice is unknown. It’s an open ending of sorts.

 

But what Seon-woo was curious about here was something slightly different.

 

What was the problem that Mute had to overcome?

 

Obviously, one would say it was his inability to speak.

 

But in the script, Mute doesn’t just fail to speak. He doesn’t act either. He makes no expressions at all.

 

Like someone completely cut off from this world…

 

Right.

 

Mute’s problem was precisely the absence of expression.

 

The reason is unknown. Perhaps he gave up, thinking that whatever he tried to say wouldn’t be properly conveyed since he couldn’t speak anyway, or maybe he had lived his entire life without ever imagining the concept of expression itself.

 

That’s why [Those in the Sealed Room] ended the story with Mute’s mouth opening.

 

When he shared this interpretation,

 

“…The character’s completeness does improve, I’ll give you that.”

 

Ye-chan nodded his head.

 

But his expression looked quite troubled, as if this interpretation wasn’t particularly welcome.

 

“But to express Mute that way, wouldn’t you have to eliminate not just dialogue but all actions too?”

 

“That’s right.”

 

“…That seems like it would have way too little stage presence.”

 

Seon-woo understood Ye-chan’s reaction.

 

The difficulty of the acting would increase, but what he’d gain in return was practically nothing.

 

The strategy of the actors currently playing the mute was more or less the same.

 

Since there were no lines, they would emphasize the behavioral aspects more in their acting.

 

For example, reacting more actively whenever someone delivered lines. It couldn’t be helped. Without doing at least that much, the mute would be a character that might as well not exist.

 

But if they acted according to Seon-woo’s interpretation, they would have to give up even those reactions they were planning to do.

 

“How are you planning to bring that to life, hyung?”

 

“…I’ll have to think about that now.”

 

And honestly, Seon-woo didn’t have a solution for this yet either.

 

A mute who says nothing, does nothing, and only watches other characters… How could he possibly make such a character appealing?

 

It was indeed a daunting task.

 

He often thought about just giving up on this pointless interpretation and emphasizing reactions like everyone else.

 

‘…No.’

 

But he couldn’t do that.

 

Seon-woo brought up the mute’s Color Orb.

 

A transparent Color Orb unlike any he had ever seen.

 

Seon-woo thought about why the mute’s color appeared transparent to him.

 

It was probably for that reason.

 

The mute was someone who couldn’t express anything.

 

A person with no expression was ultimately no different from a person with no heart.

 

Since his heart was empty, there could be no color either.

 

When the Color Orb burst, only an indescribable emptiness was conveyed.

 

It was a familiar emptiness.

 

Before he started acting, during those days when he lived in a colorless world… the feeling Seon-woo experienced every day.

 

The futility of feeling that everything in this world was meaningless.

 

Yes.

 

The mute resembled Seon-woo’s past self.

 

‘…Yes. Let me try to express it.’

 

He knew it was stubbornness.

 

But Seon-woo wanted to see this stubbornness through somehow.

 

How could he express this aspect of Mute in an appealing way?

 

How could he make this translucent image that didn’t even have its own distinct color stand out?

 

Seon-woo left the practice room and went outside.

 

He needed fresh air. And a bit of walking too.

 

Step.

 

Mute has no color.

 

Step.

 

Mute has no words.

 

Step.

 

Mute has no actions either.

 

He just watches others.

 

…Watches?

 

Step.

 

Come to think of it, the script contained many expressions of Mute watching someone.

 

At first, he thought it was just expressing the appearance of Mute who had neither words nor actions.

 

But perhaps in that gaze itself… the writer’s intention was contained?

 

Step.

 

Why did Mute watch them?

 

What did he think while watching them?

 

While watching them who were busy expressing their own colors, even if stained with flaws and deficiencies…

 

Thoughts led to more thoughts in an endless chain.

 

He didn’t know how many steps he had taken.

 

But at the end of those steps, what Seon-woo reached was ultimately the practice room again.

 

Seon-woo looked around at his team members and said.

 

“…Would you like to sync our breathing just once?”

 

After that, it would be difficult to say that the Mute that Seon-woo showed was perfect.

 

He had just grasped the feeling. He couldn’t show perfect acting right away.

 

However, the fact that none other than Seo Jin-wook said this would be meaningful.

 

“…Crazy bastard, really.”

 

It meant the direction had been found.

 

* * *

 

That night, when he entered the accommodation, Si-on was already asleep.

 

He must have been exhausted from the whole day, as he was sleeping while snoring, something he usually didn’t do.

 

If he had been awake, Seon-woo would have at least tried to cheer him up, but seeing that he wasn’t losing sleep over it was rather fortunate.

 

‘Let me focus on doing well first.’

 

He felt like he was starting to understand what kind of character Mute was.

 

And how he should express him.

 

But it was still too early to feel relieved.

 

He needed sufficient contemplation about Mute’s details.

 

There were ten days until the mission. Honestly, it was quite a generous amount of time, but that made it even more impossible to let his guard down.

 

Giving them a lot of time meant they wanted an even cleaner result.

 

‘Seven teams will be acting with the same script.’

 

That meant if they showed mediocre acting, they could end up completely edited out.

 

Of course, given their team composition, they probably wouldn’t show a stage worthy of being completely edited out… but still, to increase their screen time even a little, each of them had to show better acting.

 

Actually, the situation was very good.

 

First of all, they had Hye-seong.

 

Hye-seong, whom Lee Mu-beom had officially evaluated as having the highest acting proficiency.

 

Just Hye-seong’s presence made it feel like they had found their center. Whenever the direction of their acting seemed to go slightly off track, Hye-seong would notice it like a ghost and correct it.

 

Seon-woo’s Color Vision Ability was equally helpful to the team.

 

Even when watching other people’s acting, if their immersion seemed to waver even slightly, Seon-woo could immediately point it out.

 

Eyes that could catch even the smallest cracks that others would unconsciously overlook.

 

Moreover, Seon-woo’s eyes could also catch when someone’s acting emitted the most intense and beautiful colors.

 

It served as an absolute standard for judging good emotional lines.

 

“You’re surprisingly sharp.”

 

Even Hye-seong clicked his tongue while watching Seon-woo.

 

“How do you catch all those points that even the person themselves barely notices?”

 

“…Um, I just see it.”

 

“That’s amazing. It’s like you have different eyes from the rest of us.”

 

He probably wouldn’t believe me even if I said I have somewhat different eyes.

 

Anyway, Seon-woo’s feedback was sharp enough to earn Hye-seong’s admiration. Naturally, the team’s performance could only improve as a result.

 

Yeon-woo’s presence was also quite meaningful.

 

She would point out every single detail that could enhance the acting, and each time they accepted her advice, the overall quality of the stage itself seemed to rise.

 

Even more so,

 

“How about removing the smile in that scene just now?”

 

“…Why?”

 

“The Troublemaker isn’t someone who picks fights for enjoyment, but rather a character who can’t hold back because they’re genuinely irritated. When you smile like that, it feels like you’re deliberately picking a fight you don’t want to have. Or do you have some other idea?”

 

“…No. I’ll try it that way.”

 

Even Seo Jin-wook was obediently bowing his head to Yeon-woo.

 

She would smile brightly while pouring out all sorts of details without a second’s hesitation, and he probably realized that trying to argue back would only result in getting scolded.

 

And aside from that, Seo Jin-wook seemed somewhat deflated in front of Yeon-woo. Should I say he was subtly afraid of her, or that he felt uncomfortable around her?

 

Seon-woo inwardly chuckled as he watched Seo Jin-wook like that.

 

‘He has surprisingly good instincts.’

 

Because Yeon-woo really was a scary woman.

 

“Still, it’s good that they’re getting along well.”

 

At the sudden voice from beside him, Seon-woo turned his head.

 

It was Hyeong-bin.

 

“Who? Senior Jin-wook and Yeon-woo?”

 

“No, well, those two as well, but… you and Jin-wook.”

 

“…Well, yes. I’m also a bit surprised myself.”

 

“Jin-wook isn’t really that bad of a kid.”

 

Hmm. That seemed like something worth thinking about.

 

But saying this would give the impression that he had been thinking badly of Seo Jin-wook, wouldn’t it?

 

…He had been thinking that way, but anyway.

 

“He does seem to get along well with you, hyung.”

 

“Yeah. In my eyes, Jin-wook is… just an awkward and young friend. Someone who could get better with just a little understanding.”

 

“…To call him young when he’s even older than me?”

 

“Just being older doesn’t mean you can become an adult.”

 

That was true enough.

 

“I’m still a baby too.”

 

That wasn’t exactly true though.

 

Anyway, these past few days had been full of seeing new sides of Seo Jin-wook.

 

Sides I never expected, sides I didn’t particularly want to see.

 

I don’t want to say I was misunderstanding him. To call it a misunderstanding would ignore all the terrible things Seo Jin-wook had actually done up until now.

 

But giving him the benefit of the doubt… I had to acknowledge that humans aren’t entirely one-dimensional.

 

There’s no such thing as a perfectly evil person in this world.

 

That’s why.

 

“Thank you for protecting Si-on.”

 

During a brief break in practice, Seon-woo deliberately brought up those words.

 

Seo Jin-wook glanced back at Seon-woo and snorted.

 

“Don’t mention it. I just couldn’t stand looking at that bastard, so I went after him.”

 

“Yes. But I still wanted to thank you.”

 

“…But why are you thanking me? You’re not his mother.”

 

“We’re roommates.”

 

“Busybody.”

 

The conversation ended that simply.

 

There wasn’t much else to say anyway.

 

Either way, the fact that they were less awkward with each other compared to before was somewhat of an achievement.

 

When actors are uncomfortable with each other, it inevitably affects the stage performance.

 

That’s what I had worried about when I first teamed up with Seo Jin-wook too.

 

But their team had fewer problems than expected.

 

Rather, the problems were mostly with the other teams.

 

“Agh, I really can’t deal with this mute anymore!”

 

“Honestly, I’ve compromised a lot! What more do you want me to do!?”

 

Even before this, there had been subtle tensions between participants here and there.

 

But this time, there were far too many incidents that could truly be called ‘fights.’

 

And between team members, no less.

 

There were so many reasons it would be hard to list them all.

 

First of all, there was the existence of team scores.

 

Until now, even if the other person’s acting was a bit lacking, it never directly impacted him.

 

Especially during the initial room assignments, he had actually welcomed it. The worse the others performed, the higher his own chances of survival became.

 

But now the story was different.

 

If a team member performed poorly, it would lead to a drop in the score he would receive. So people watched each other much more sensitively than before, criticized, and clashed.

 

The second issue was the script.

 

The biggest problem was undoubtedly the mute character.

 

Nobody wanted to play the mute.

 

Most teams selected the mute role through the fairest methods possible like rock-paper-scissors, but even after that, complaints from those who got stuck with the mute kept popping up everywhere.

 

From their perspective, it was only natural to feel that way.

 

It was a role without a single line.

 

No matter how well the team performed, it was obvious that individual scores would likely hover at rock bottom.

 

“Seriously, what kind of script did the production team make?”

 

“Exactly. This makes luck more important than skill. It’s not dodging crap, it’s dodging the mute role.”

 

The participants who got the mute role always grumbled like that.

 

If it ended with just grumbling, that was fortunate, but it was also common for them to fight with team members after saying they absolutely couldn’t play the mute.

 

“We’re really going smoothly and quietly.”

 

Hyeong-bin said with a pleased voice.

 

Hye-seong chuckled and nodded.

 

“In a way, it’s thanks to Seon-woo. He took the mute role that everyone else said they hated.”

 

“…It’s really amazing.”

 

Hyeong-bin looked at Seon-woo.

 

“Did Seon-woo see it from the beginning? That the mute could be such an appealing character?”

 

An appealing character.

 

If people from other teams heard this, they would probably doubt their ears. No matter how hard you looked, the mute had no elements that could be called appealing.

 

Actually, Hyeong-bin had thought the same way at first.

 

But now it was different.

 

Because he had seen Seon-woo acting as the mute.

 

Because he had seen how intensely that character without a single line could radiate stage presence.

 

But Hye-seong shook his head.

 

“It probably wasn’t visible from the beginning. You somehow found it.”

 

“…Was that something you could find just by trying to look for it?”

 

“Usually it’s difficult. Unless you literally eat rice while thinking only about that role every single day.”

 

In other words, Seon-woo really did nothing but eat rice and think about the Mute.

 

And in fact, this was exactly the part where Hye-seong held Seon-woo in high regard.

 

“Everyone calls Seon-woo a genius… but I think what’s truly scary about Seon-woo isn’t his talent. It’s that tenacity.”

 

Whether it was a character or acting, when Seon-woo became fixated on something, he had to see it through to the end no matter what.

 

Should I say he’s really the type of person adults often describe as ‘someone who’ll succeed at whatever they do’?

 

Perhaps seeing that faith in Hye-seong’s eyes, Hyeong-bin wore a strange smile and nodded his head.

 

“That’s cool, Kim Seon-woo.”

 

“You’re cool too.”

 

“Stop it. No need to force a touching scene.”

 

“Oh, was it obvious?”

 

Hye-seong pretended to be startled and covered his mouth with his hand.

 

…Ever since finding out they were the same age, he seemed to tease him more often. Hyeong-bin swallowed a sigh outwardly while secretly smiling inside.

 

It was a strange feeling.

 

Until now, before going out for missions, it always felt like going to receive punishment. Like being dragged out to show his shortcomings to the judges.

 

But this time was different.

 

He wanted to show them quickly.

 

How well their chemistry worked.

 

How wonderful a stage they had prepared, how special their Mute was, and… what kind of actor he was.

 

‘I have a good feeling about this.’

 

His heart was racing.

 

It meant he was ready.

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