If I Don’t Earn 1 Trillion Won, My Regression Ends - Chapter 68

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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 68

Is he insane?

Bae Tae-ak, who was about to warn her not to accept such creepy things, hesitated.

“…Seosing-a? Hey. You don’t look well, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Tae-ak Oppa. Please throw that away. It’s making me nauseous.”

“Oh. Yeah. Okay.”

“Leave the door open when you go out. I get scared being alone in small spaces.”

Actually, Bae Tae-ak was about to tease her out of habit. What’s so small about this place, don’t tell me you’re scared because of some flowers.

But when he met her eyes that held no hint of joking, his mouth closed on its own. Bae Tae-ak even felt a bit guilty.

‘Stupid. I should have checked before accepting the flowers!’

Should I comfort her? Should I go give her a hug or something?

Bae Tae-ak experienced severe internal conflict.

As a prince in the midst of his eighth-grader syndrome, such cringeworthy behavior was absolutely disgusting, but Seosing-a’s current state seemed to warrant exactly that kind of action.

Simply put, she had triggered his limited protective instincts.

After extreme conflict, just as Bae Tae-ak finally made up his mind and took a step forward.

Bang!

“Tae-ak! Sing-a! Standby backstage!”

“Geez, you scared me! You startled me, teacher!!!”

“What are you saying. So noisy. Move it!”

The instructor who had thrown open the door waved around a rolled-up script and left first.

Seosing-a also swallowed a sigh and stood up. Then she stumbled, perhaps having stepped on her long skirt hem.

Bae Tae-ak flew over like the wind.

He reflexively supported her and held her hand, and Seosing-a’s palm that he grasped was damp and trembling slightly.

It wasn’t just because of the lilies from an unknown sender.

This was different from fear.

Bae Tae-ak finally realized. Why Seosing-a had been silent in the dressing room, just staring at her book the whole time.

‘She was nervous.’

He really had a bad personality.

Seeing his young junior partner trembling actually made his own nerves relax.

Bae Tae-ak’s stiff expression loosened.

“Look at your hands shaking. You’re not going to collapse on stage, are you?”

“…I think I’m going to throw up.”

Rolling her eyes, Seosing-a let out a long, long sigh.

Bae Tae-ak chuckled. The walk to backstage didn’t seem as long as before.

‘Right. I’m just a whetstone anyway, so there’s nothing to be nervous about.’

The role his uncle had given him was to be a whetstone to polish and make Seosing-a shine.

The murmuring voices grew closer.

The stuffy dust smell characteristic of old curtains washed over them.

Pulling her tightly held hand to lead her, Bae Tae-ak whispered to the young partner he had watched every day for half a year. Hey. Don’t be scared.

“Trust me, Seosing-a. You’re a genius.”

♧

The seats wrapped in deep purple velvet were worn and faded with age. The air quality was murky due to the packed audience.

Jeong Hyeon-gyo, who had come to a theater for the first time in his life, thought to himself.

This kind of space wasn’t really his taste.

He had only seen the elementary division’s stage and the first act of the middle school division, but even watching the actors perform passionately didn’t change his mind.

His seat was on the first floor close to the stage, close enough to hear the actors’ breathing if he concentrated.

Every element was vividly clear without filter.

The layers of makeup under hot lights, the artificially raised voices, the exaggerated gestures…

Jeong Hyeon-gyo, whose personality was worse than it appeared, seriously worried. What if Sing-a looks just as ridiculous?

“I can’t stand it.”

Jeong Hyeon-hye, sitting to his left, leaned over.

“Even a dimwit like Choi Chamsol would hate this kind of thing.”

Jeong Hyeon-hye cynically gestured for him to look.

Not far away, Choi Chamsol could be seen yawning widely.

Since their seats were in the VIP section, all of Seosing-a’s acquaintances were nearby.

“They’re amateurs. Professionals would be different, I suppose.”

“You told Seosing-a to try this?”

“…Yeah.”

“Go die. Jeong Hyeon-gyo.”

“…”

Jeong Hyeon-gyo felt a bit regretful too.

‘Did I unnecessarily encourage her to test herself on stage?’

Would it be wrong to go get Sing-a and bring her out now?

The ill-natured and precocious Jeong Hyeon-gyo even had some harsh thoughts. He understood why medieval nobles prevented their actor lovers from performing on stage anymore.

He also realized why the Bae family elders were so anxious to devour Bae Seo-nyeok, which gave him a headache.

“Wow. Namihee really is different. That gave me chills.”

“Right. She’s truly a crane among chickens. You can just tell she’s different at a glance. A genius that even laypeople can recognize must be like that, right?”

In the silence. It was the intermission to catch their breath after the first act ended.

The admiring whispers from people in the back seats reached his ears unintentionally. Layman Jeong Hyeon-gyo pondered.

‘I have no idea.’

Who was Namihee? Who was different?

Before his question could even finish, the two-minute intermission passed quickly, and just as the audience lighting dimmed and approached blackout again.

“Phew.”

Thud. Someone silently took the empty seat to his right.

The short, quick breaths were hot. He seemed to have come in a hurry. Jeong Hyeon-gyo glanced sideways.

A man wearing a baseball cap pulled low put his finger to his lips in a shushing gesture.

“Great-uncle. You’re late.”

“I have to leave soon.”

Bae Seo-nyeok whispered low and patted the back of Jeong Hyeon-gyo’s neck with his large hand like a cover, then sank back into his seat.

With that as the last sound, the audience noise completely subsided.

Act 2 begins.

‘Nina’ appeared.

A new person, a new actor.

♧

The backstage behind the thick curtain was dark.

The first act actors who had successfully finished their performance passed by them. Namihee glanced at Seosing-a mockingly, as if sneering.

Namihee’s and Seosing-a’s ‘Nina’ had completely different feels.

If Namihee was a brilliantly lovely Nina, then Seosing-a’s Nina had stronger introverted aspects.

The two girls’ usual acting styles were like that too.

Namihee, who had inherited the style of her mother who was an actress of an era, wielded raw acting power that burst from instinct.

On the other hand, Seosing-a, like the thorough practice addict she was, would break down and dissect scripts to reproduce characters without error through precisely calculated restraint and control, captivating viewers.

The teachers called them typical Raw Acting and Technical Acting.

Even within Yewon, opinions were divided.

Some said Seosing-a was better, others said Namihee was better.

But given their styles, many people ranked raw Namihee higher in terms of talent.

Bae Tae-ak thought differently.

How dare they evaluate her?

They had only started watching Seosing-a’s acting since practicing 《The Seagull》.

He was different from them. He had seen everything from beginning to end.

He was the only witness who had watched Seosing-a from when she first learned acting until this very moment.

After all, a rough stone becomes a jewel by being cut and cut and cut again.

Bae Tae-ak’s eyes examined Seosing-a observantly.

Due to her young age, her makeup was lighter than other students, and she didn’t wear a separate wig. So she looked much more pure.

‘As expected, my Nina is better.’

Satisfied, Bae Tae-ak sniffed and leaned his head closer.

“Did you spray perfume? What’s with perfume at your age. But it smells really good… What perfume is it?”

“Fairy Spring.”

“There’s perfume with that name too?”

Muttering, Bae Tae-ak twisted the long hair in front of him with his fingers. It was a habitual action.

Having taken classes together alone for nearly half a year, they had gotten along like siblings, and closer to brothers than siblings. They constantly played around, casually pushing, hitting, and bothering each other without a care.

The curtain was rising. The instructor gave them hand signals to get ready.

“Just do what you’ve been doing. Don’t be nervous. I told you. You’re-“

Bae Tae-ak’s casual whisper trailed off hesitantly.

Through her neatly combed hair, he could see her reddened earlobes. When he stopped talking, she tilted her head slightly and looked up at him.

Defenseless.

Without any wariness or distance, just with admiration mixed with shyness and excitement.

That gaze.

Like a countryside girl who had lived oppressed her whole life finally looking up at the fantasy idol she had met, the writer Trigorin…

Bae Tae-ak was overwhelmed and froze.

This person in front of his eyes right now.

It was ‘Nina’. Trigorin’s girl.

♧

Act 2 began.

“Me? How could I dare… But if you wish it, gladly. I’ll read it for you. Please forgive me if my voice trembles.”

The girl’s finely trembling voice resonated through the stage and audience.

Shy, yet with a slight competitiveness of not wanting to lose showing through, making her unripened vitality stand out even more.

She drew attention frighteningly well.

Her gestures were like a butterfly, her voice like a skylark. When she smiled, the mechanical lighting seemed to soften like sunlight.

A countryside girl more ideal than perfection was before their eyes.

No sound could be heard from the focused audience.

Bae Seo-nyeok, who had said he needed to leave soon, didn’t move.

“…”

Jeong Hyeon-gyo leaned forward toward the stage. His gaze didn’t waver.

He could feel Jeong Hyeon-hye holding her breath beside him.

The lighting he had thought was harsh on the eyes was no longer dazzling.

The dozens of black lighting equipment in the center, the side lights on both sides, the pin lights behind the audience… one person was greedily absorbing all the light. She was a black hole.

Soon Jeong Hyeon-gyo thought.

A genius that even an outsider could feel…

‘That’s exactly what it is.’

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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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