I Acted Once, and Now They Call Me a Genius - Chapter 62

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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 62

 

“They even installed LEDs here.”

 

Min-hee let out a hollow laugh as she looked at the sliding door of the private room.

 

It really felt like entering some kind of space station. The problem was that this wasn’t actually a space station, but a survival arena where people would kill or be killed.

 

“It feels so… real.”

 

At Ji-eun’s words, Min-hee nodded silently.

 

The set was so well-made that it really felt like participating in this game.

 

Her heart was pounding.

 

Just looking at the set made her feel it.

 

This drama seemed like it would be quite interesting…

 

‘Just how much budget did they put into this?’

 

The budget for 【I Am an Actor】 alone must be considerable, but to cover this drama’s budget as well…

 

“YBS really went all out…”

 

Min-hee muttered.

 

Watching Min-hee, Justin nodded his head.

 

“It’s totally legit, really.”

 

“There you go speaking English again.”

 

“Uhm, sorry. It’s just such a habit, you know.”

 

While Min-hee chuckled at Justin’s antics, Seon-woo slowly looked around the studio.

 

The structure was simple.

 

Five rooms lined up on each side along a long hallway, with a huge common area at the end of the corridor.

 

‘…Is this where we’ll play the game?’

 

Even as Kim Seon-woo’s gray emotions enveloped him, Seon-woo’s eyes sparkled for a moment.

 

A space created solely for them.

 

His heart couldn’t help but flutter with excitement.

 

“Everyone’s gathered.”

 

And that was the moment.

 

A familiar voice drew everyone’s attention.

 

It was Im Yeong-do.

 

Since filming for [One Room] had started, it had been hard to see his face, so just as some people’s faces began to show signs of welcome… Im Yeong-do got straight to the point as usual.

 

“Thank you all for your hard work. I came here today to give you some simple guidance.”

 

“…What kind of guidance?”

 

“About how the missions will proceed from now on! You’ve been so focused on the drama that we never properly explained the details of the missions, right?”

 

That was certainly true.

 

There had been no explanation about what would happen to existing scores, or how eliminations would be determined going forward.

 

“To cut to the chase, forget about your existing scores.”

 

And Im Yeong-do dropped a bombshell right from the start.

 

It was welcome news for those with low scores, but not so welcome for the top-ranked contestants including Seon-woo.

 

Thanks to this, the lower-ranked members reflexively checked their expressions…

 

‘Everyone seems like they don’t care at all.’

 

They all had expressions that said scores didn’t matter to them.

 

Whether it was overflowing confidence, or they didn’t want to be bothered by such numbers.

 

Maybe it was because of the excitement this studio had given them.

 

This was a place that made them realize they were filming a real, proper drama just by standing here.

 

Im Yeong-do continued his explanation.

 

“From TOP 10 onwards, the existing cumulative scoring system will no longer apply. You will be evaluated every episode, and your survival will be determined through those evaluations.”

 

Seon-woo silently looked at Im Yeong-do.

 

Actually, this was one of the things he had somewhat expected. The cumulative scoring system was designed to create increasingly larger gaps over time.

 

If they maintained the cumulative scoring system now that only ten people remained… it would become obvious who would be eliminated even before the next episode aired.

 

From the program’s perspective, it wasn’t an item to drag out for long.

 

While he wasn’t entirely unbothered by losing his accumulated points… Seon-woo wasn’t too concerned about this aspect.

 

Rather, what concerned him was,

 

“From now on, you need to earn two types of scores. One is the judges’ score, and the other is the audience score. But you don’t need to worry about this becoming a popularity contest. The audience score only accounts for 10% of the total.”

 

Of course, if the score differences weren’t large, that 10% could determine victory or defeat.

 

But it couldn’t be helped.

 

An actor’s value wasn’t determined by acting ability alone.

 

The charm that captivates audiences was also a kind of skill.

 

Rather, 10% could be considered quite a reduced proportion.

 

“From now on, every broadcast will be live. We’ll broadcast the drama in real-time, and your judging will begin immediately after the drama airs. Naturally, there will be a studio audience, so if you have any family or friends you’d like to invite, please let the production team know.”

 

Live.

 

This wasn’t really that surprising.

 

It wasn’t uncommon for programs of this type to switch to live broadcasts around TOP 10.

 

Well, in their case, calling the drama live was a stretch… it would be the judging scenes that would be live.

 

Everyone’s eyes began to sparkle with anticipation.

 

Meeting those eyes, Im Yeong-do delivered his final announcement.

 

“Finally, after the first episode of [One Room] airs, a total of two people will be eliminated.”

 

Two people.

 

At those words, the eyes of several people darkened.

 

One person might be manageable, but two people made some think that even they might not be safe.

 

Im Yeong-do quietly observed the tense faces of the cast, but when he looked at Seon-woo, his expression hardened.

 

‘…I heard about it, but.’

 

For the past ten days, Im Yeong-do hadn’t seen Seon-woo.

 

He had spent almost all his time on editing and external schedules.

 

So when other production staff said things like ‘Seon-woo seems unusual lately,’ he had brushed it off… but seeing him in person, he understood why they had said that.

 

Dark.

 

Even if the old Seon-woo wasn’t exactly cheerful, he wasn’t someone difficult to approach… but now it was hard to even make eye contact, let alone talk.

 

‘Even if it’s method acting, is it okay to leave him like that?’

 

He was worried.

 

What if he got consumed by the character and something happened?

 

Normally he would think it was needless worry, but according to Ryu, Seon-woo was basically a severe depression patient. The acting might trigger his illness again.

 

And when he expressed this concern, Ryu’s reaction was truly something to behold.

 

—That might happen.

 

—Excuse me?

 

—Something might happen, I mean. Reliving depressing situations or emotions through acting could itself become a kind of trigger.

 

—Then what should we do? Shouldn’t we assign a psychological counselor or something?

 

—Hmm, that’s possible, but… I don’t really like that idea.

 

—Why not?

 

—It would ruin the flavor of the acting.

 

Im Yeong-do still couldn’t forget the unpleasant smile Ryu had shown then.

 

—If Kim Seon-woo becomes even a little more depressed… I think we’ll get a more interesting picture.

 

‘Not an eccentric, but a crazy psycho.’

 

He knew.

 

He knew that people called geniuses in this industry usually didn’t have normal minds.

 

But even so, he couldn’t just stand by and watch someone’s mental state deteriorate for the sake of a work.

 

People were more important than works.

 

Im Yeong-do was still a PD who hadn’t abandoned such classical romanticism.

 

* * *

 

“Are you okay?”

 

It wasn’t only Im Yeong-do who was concerned about Seon-woo.

 

Seon-woo turned his head. A middle-aged man with deep crow’s feet and nasolabial folds was looking at him.

 

“Ah, Manager.”

 

Manager.

 

Of course, this was a nickname, and his real name was Park Moon-hyeon.

 

He was the oldest among the remaining participants.

 

Clean skin and a solid body that made it hard to believe he was fifty. Looking at him naturally made you think, ‘Ah, I want to age like that.’

 

Until making it to the TOP 10, Seon-woo hadn’t had much contact with him, but since then they occasionally exchanged words.

 

“Do I look bad? Everyone’s been worrying about me lately.”

 

“With good reason. Your dark circles are deep, your eyes lack focus… Have you checked your weight? You look like you’ve lost some too.”

 

“…Weight too? That’s serious. Once I start losing weight, I have trouble gaining it back no matter how much I eat.”

 

“You shouldn’t push yourself too hard.”

 

Park Moon-hyeon quietly looked at Seon-woo.

 

“Whatever you’re doing, if you don’t rest enough… you’ll end up hating it.”

 

Those were words he couldn’t ignore.

 

Park Moon-hyeon had said he was working at a company until he came on this program. Seon-woo nodded.

 

“Yes. I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

“Good. In the end, this is something we do because we enjoy it. It shouldn’t become suffering.”

 

Suffering.

 

He hadn’t really thought of it as suffering.

 

But if asked whether it was enjoyable… that was honestly a bit difficult to answer.

 

Seon-woo still loved acting.

 

But acting as ‘Kim Seon-woo’… well, it tended to be more arduous than enjoyable.

 

Seon-woo had started acting because he loved the colorful world.

 

But the world Seon-woo faced every day lately was gray, with no primary colors to be found. It was hard to say it was purely enjoyable.

 

Seon-woo looked down at the costume he was wearing.

 

Upon entering the game, all characters had to wear this pure white game uniform. A straitjacket-style outfit with buckles here and there.

 

Suffocating.

 

That feeling wasn’t just because of this outfit.

 

He needed color.

 

He craved color.

 

If it had been before, he probably wouldn’t have felt such thirst.

 

He had thought that a colorful life painted in primary colors was something someone like him couldn’t dream of.

 

He had thought it was a life only possible for chosen… special people.

 

But Seon-woo had endlessly enjoyed those colors through acting.

 

It was like withdrawal symptoms setting in.

 

Living constantly dyed in gray even in daily life… it’s bound to be difficult.

 

Then why not just put down Method Acting and everything else, why be so stubborn about it?

 

Well…

 

“Shoot starting in a moment!”

 

Seon-woo raised his hand.

 

Above his hand, which was now always dyed in gray, a Color Orb floated gently.

 

And as soon as he crushed that Color Orb… he, his breath, his gaze, and… everything surrounding him began to be dyed in gray.

 

Amid the overwhelming drowsiness, bone-chilling cold, and hazy floating sensation, Seon-woo slowly exhaled a gray breath.

 

Kim Seon-woo is such an uninteresting character.

 

Unpleasant to look at for long, lacking charm, not beautiful.

 

Not colorful at all.

 

But this much he had to acknowledge.

 

Acting as Kim Seon-woo was…

 

“Ready— Action!”

 

Easy.

 

Annoyingly so.

 

* * *

 

“…Insane.”

 

Beyond the screen, Park Myeong-jin brushed away the goosebumps that had risen on his arms and shook his head.

 

No matter how many times he watched, he couldn’t get used to it.

 

“I kept saying he was good, he was good… but just how good is he planning to get?”

 

“…”

 

“So where were we in our conversation?”

 

Park Myeong-jin turned to look at Im Yeong-do.

 

And inwardly chuckled. Im Yeong-do was staring blankly at Seon-woo on the screen with a dumbfounded expression.

 

An expression as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing even though he was watching it directly.

 

Park Myeong-jin asked with a mocking smile.

 

“Shouldn’t he stop the Method Acting?”

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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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