Debuting by Riding the Returnee’s Bus Chapter 142

Ambition practically overflowed from his face.

 

‘Why on earth is he looking so satisfied?’

 

He looked as though he’d accomplished exactly what he’d set out to do. The corners of his mouth weren’t just turned upward—they were practically reaching his ears. I wondered if his plan was to establish an acting division within <The World> with Lee Unha as the spearhead. Or perhaps he just wanted to use the title of ‘the idol who is good at acting’ as a major selling point.

 

Whatever was going through Director Oh’s head, there was no denying that his plans were unfolding exactly as he’d intended. Whatever the case, he had produced results.

 

Even I hadn’t been certain whether the things I’d brought back from the other world would actually work here. Sure, looking back at the death performance before, and remembering the PD who’d told me to quit being an idol and become an actor instead, I could say there had been signs… but still.

 

But I never imagined that even these actors with ten-million-ticket films under their belts would be this surprised. I had to conclude that Director Oh, by his own decision, had shoved me into this show believing I would be able to make it here. Of course, some of it was probably just fortunate coincidence, but…

 

‘Is that ahjussi… actually competent?’

 

The thought crossed my mind.

 

‘But please, worry about me, the one who might get trashed for this. People are going to start saying a rookie’s already gotten obsessed with acting…’

 

Completely unaware of my worries, the atmosphere on set was electric. It wasn’t just the four actors who were excited. I could feel everyone—the camera crew, the writers, and the PD—welcoming the current flow of the shoot. They didn’t seem to care about the original broadcast format or the direction the program was supposed to take.

 

Honestly, I had no idea where this shoot was headed anymore.

 

‘Why… why am I doing a script reading here?’

 

And why is it a psychopath role, of all things?

 

“Um….”

 

“Huh?”

 

“I mean… I came here as an idol from Idol Classism. Is it really okay if I don’t do anything except act?”

 

“Ah. This ‘actor’ came here to promote himself, I see?”

 

“No, I mean. I’m an idol, not an a… actor! And you can’t just openly call it promotion like that.”

 

‘I have to protest as much as possible for now. That’s the right move.’

 

“Come on, everyone who comes on this show is here to promote something. Let’s just do the acting first. Once the script reading’s over, we’ll give you all the time you want to promote yourself.”

 

Another actor chimed in as if it were no big deal.

 

“Let’s just pick a script you like first.”

 

“Ah, I’m getting nervous, hyungnim.”

 

“I wonder if our Yeonjin’s going to get outshined.”

 

“No way. Surely it won’t come to that.”

 

They’d already started chatting among themselves.

 

“PD, after our actor finishes his performance, let’s really give him plenty of promotion time.”

 

“Wait? Did you just agree to that?”

 

“Ah, we don’t need to peel onions today. Let’s just order delivery and….”

 

I couldn’t help but interject.

 

“Wait… how can you not cook on a cooking show! I was really looking forward to it.”

 

“Actually, delivery tastes better. All the guests here are just pretending the home-cooked food is good.”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“Don’t worry about those trivial things. Let’s just pick a script. Start with the script.”

 

‘What is with these people?’

 

To put it nicely, they had an incredible passion for their primary craft. Once their switch was flipped, I couldn’t find a way to stop them. They even carried a lot of scripts with them. I wondered if actors always kept scripts on hand wherever they went.

 

‘Is this really allowed?’

 

I’d shown them a bit earlier, but the atmosphere now demanded another performance. Naturally, my instincts told me I had to ride this momentum. I’d heard that good variety entertainers considered preserving the flow of the show their highest priority. Suddenly saying I couldn’t do it or hesitating wouldn’t fit Lee Unha’s character. If anything….

 

“In exchange, if I do well, you have to give me guaranteed promotion time.”

 

“Aha. Of course.”

 

“Everyone has to promise! Next time, I’ll bring the members and show you a full performance. You’ll let us do that, right?”

 

This was the right move. Sure enough, as if he had been waiting, the veteran actor opened his mouth.

 

“If our actor wants that, then of course we should.”

 

I was a little worried that I’d come across like an overly bold rookie idol trainee who didn’t know his place, but the reaction wasn’t bad. I didn’t know if the absence of a professional MC led to a better result, but the picture that emerged was one of four carefree veteran actors interacting with a rookie idol who was the only one desperately trying to keep his wits about him.

 

‘This flow is good. I just have to keep this up.’

 

First, I pretended to choose a script with a serious expression.

 

“Wow. This actor’s gaze completely changes when he looks at a script.”

 

Naturally, it was for show. There were plenty of scripts to choose from, but I’d already made up my mind.

 

‘The easiest one is obviously the right choice.’

 

Among the various scripts, the one I grabbed was Jung Hojun, the psychopath. Of course, I wasn’t going to act as Jung Hojun. I would simply act as the Master I was most familiar with… that mad dark mage.

 

I’d already shown a glimpse of him during the Dark Mage performance, and I’d done something resembling acting in the music video as well, so from a promotional standpoint, it seemed like the perfect choice. Some viewers might complain about seeing the same thing again, but Lee Unha wasn’t an actor anyway. Even if I got criticized or called a one-trick pony, it wouldn’t really hurt me.

 

‘They can think whatever they want.’

 

Since my memory wasn’t bad, I took the lines in and slowly opened my mouth.

 

‘I have to look magnetic, right?’

 

This time, I activated the Succubus’ Eye. I even covered my weakness—vocal projection—with the Siren’s Voice.

 

What I was imaging was the mad dark mage. Yes, that lunatic who was an object of fear to everyone. When I turned my head to look at the actors, I saw their faces flinch.

 

The atmosphere grew heavy. I saw the face of Actor Jung Yeonjin, who was visibly tensing up.

 

“Don’t be surprised.”

 

“…….”

 

“I simply want to understand you.”

 

“…….”

 

“There is no other reason. Literally… I just want to fully understand the person that is you.”

 

Silence fell once more.

 

‘What? Actor Jung, it’s your turn.’

 

His eyes were fixed on me, completely entranced. I wasn’t sure… no, I was….

 

‘He… he’s scared?’

 

He looked terrified of the Master standing behind Lee Unha. My interpretation was a bit different from the character in the script. Unlike the script’s Jung Hojun, who was portrayed somewhat one-dimensionally, the person I was acting as was a real, existing person.

 

The Master—no, that mad dark mage—was that kind of person. He was the literal definition of fear. He was the type of human who made your knees knock just by making eye contact. He had the knack for freezing the air and gave off the vibe of an alien monster or a shard of the void. He was the type of human who triggered a physiological sense of rejection.

 

And yet….

 

‘You felt yourself being drawn in…’

 

That expression fit perfectly. Without the slightest exaggeration, he was the kind of person who possessed an irresistible pull. The actor in front of me looked quite confused. It seemed he….

 

‘He forgot.’

 

Since he had completely forgotten it was his turn to speak, I had no choice but to speak first.

 

“It looks like… you have something you want to say.”

 

And then,

 

“Don’t… don’t be ridiculous!!!”

 

A booming voice rang through the set.

 

‘Wow. What a projection.’

 

“Untie me right now! You bastard!”

 

‘He really is good. So this is what a real actor looks like.’

 

But it was a familiar situation. I had no reason to be intimidated. I had seen countless people screaming like that in front of that mad dark mage.

 

“That’s an interesting thing to say. As if you have a choice in the matter.”

 

“You… you….”

 

I hadn’t said many lines, but…. It felt like there was no point in going further…

 

‘Maybe it’s about time to wrap this up and get back to variety mode?’

 

Using the Siren’s Voice for the first time in a while had drained a huge chunk of my mana, so I felt it was best to wrap it up here.

 

‘Right. Let’s end it.’

 

With an even more serious expression and a deeper voice, I looked at him and flashed the smile the Master always wore. And then….

 

“He smiles while circling the victim.”

 

The moment I spoke that stage direction aloud, the tension snapped, and the frozen air dissipated.

 

“Pft… hahahahahaha! No! You aren’t supposed to read that part! Actor Lee! That’s a stage direction!”

 

“Pardon? Huh? Ah….”

 

“You do such an amazing job, and then right at the end… pfft… Hahaha… So it’s true—you’ve never actually learned acting?”

 

“How is he this adorable?”

 

“Adorable? I… I genuinely got chills, hyung.”

 

“No, same here. The ending was hilarious, but before that… my whole body was covered in goosebumps…”

 

“I was really startled when his switch flipped… This kid is scary….”

 

“Shall we try another one? Hmm?”

 

‘These ahjussis are so greedy.’

 

The veteran actor, in particular, looked like a grandfather wanting to see his grandson’s talent show, and was urging me to try another scene.

 

“Let’s do something gentler this time. Not something so intense.”

 

‘What? Again?’

 

“U-Um… wouldn’t that be difficult? This one was easier to interpret because it had such a distinct character. A more ordinary role without obvious traits would probably be much harder…”

 

“No, no. This actor can do it. I guarantee it. Of course, of course….”

 

‘Please get a grip. This isn’t a talent show.’

 

“Wait, wait a minute… you said you’d give me promotion time before that!”

 

“Ah… did we?”

 

“Yes! You have to give me promotion time! Business is business, so let me promote first!”

 

“Oh?”

 

After that, I suddenly stood up and approached the camera.

 

Then came the choreography.

 

Then the singing.

 

One of the actors with a good sense for variety made everyone laugh by saying, ‘Hey, let’s just go peel onions’. Naturally, I shouted back:

 

“No! you have to watch this until the end! PD-nim, you absolutely cannot edit this out!”

 

The momentum was great.

 

‘This will probably get a really good reaction.’

 

By negotiating with the veteran actors—releasing bits of acting, promoting the other songs besides the title track, and finally ending with a meal—the rest of the shoot proceeded smoothly. I believed it would generate at least some buzz. It’s a common rule that if the atmosphere on set is good, the results are usually good.

 

‘That wasn’t bad. I don’t know when this episode will air… but I think it’ll turn out pretty well.’

 

  ***

 

That was what I thought half a day ago.

 

I never imagined that a single pre-released scene… would draw such massive attention.

 

‘Why this scene? Why did they prerelease it? Do they normally just put these things out whenever they feel like it?’

 

Furthermore…. The veteran actor had suddenly given an interview.

 

‘Lee Unha isn’t an acting idol… but an acting genius? Grandpa, why are you doing this, seriously?’