A Careerless Professional
“Hmm~”
A stocky male dwarf, proudly showing off his short stature, hummed a tune as he stepped out of the café. Steam rose gently from the coffee in his hand, and his well-tailored suit hung perfectly on his frame. A leisurely smile always played at the corners of his mouth. And there was the vivid scar stretching across his face.
Sandra Gurs. Who would've thought I'd run into a big shot like him here.
At the end of every instance, there was a system called part-time jobs. You could send characters to gigs matching their abilities and talents to earn all sorts of resources and materials. Among them, the one that raked in the most cash was, without a doubt, starring in a holographic musical. And Sandra Gurs was the famous director in charge of holographic musical part-time jobs—a veritable oasis for users perpetually strapped for cash.
Hope's in sight.
To me, who needed to scrape together funds using Actor Consciousness, he looked like a lifeline. What should I say to him? If I just bluntly asked him to cast me, he'd probably shoot me down, right? But if I beat around the bush and he ignores me anyway? In a situation where I couldn't afford a single mistake, a whirlwind of thoughts swirled in my head.
That's when it happened.
“Hm? Who's this?”
Sandra Gurs stopped in his tracks, pulled out his smartphone from his pocket, and started the call.
The distance between us was about ten meters. I couldn't hear the voice coming from the phone, but from his words, tone, and expression, I could guess what kind of mess he was dealing with.
“...What? Pierre?! Damn it... No major injuries, right?”
Someone named Pierre had apparently gotten into some kind of accident.
“...He needs at least three months of treatment to keep performing? And we've only got one week left until the big show?! Ha... If it were just an extra, fine, but the lead actor...”
Sandra Gurs's face hardened. He rubbed his forehead with the hand holding the phone and continued.
“...Too late to find a stand-in now. No choice. We'll have to postpone. Pay the penalties... What? Are you nuts? It wasn't your fault, so quit crying. It was just an accident. Don't sweat it.”
A few more exchanges, and he hung up.
From what I gathered, Pierre was the lead in the upcoming holographic musical, but his accident had put the whole show at risk of cancellation. Smiling at news of someone getting hurt pricked at my conscience a bit, but it was hard to suppress the growing excitement.
I'd already figured out how to approach Sandra Gurs.
“Alright. Let's do this.”
Worst case, I'd break even. I strode toward him with confident steps.
Sandra Gurs was clutching his forehead, grimacing and muttering to himself.
“Damn it... Things just had to go sideways like this.”
“You look like you're in a bind.”
“Hm? And who might you be?”
I jumped right in, and he smoothed out his hardened expression, flashing a professional smile in response. Smiling at every passerby like that—talk about work ethic. Was this the baseline for a holographic musical titan?
“I'm someone who confidently believes no one can match my acting skills. I'd love to build it up nice and slow, but everyone's short on time these days, so I'll cut to the chase.”
I channeled confidence, letting the words flow. Using Actor Consciousness really changed things—the power in my voice, the accent, it all felt different from my usual speech. Convincing, even to my own ears. My tone had shifted a bit too, now that I noticed.
“How about giving me that lead role that just fell through?”
“...I won't ask how you knew about Pierre's accident. I got a little loud in my excitement, so you must've overheard.”
He eyed me up and down, took a sip of his coffee, and spoke.
“Any experience?”
“No excuses. None.”
He wrinkled his philtrum for a moment, then maintained his smile and spoke measuredly.
“You certainly seem to have the qualities of an actor, but unfortunately, I'm not one for gambles. If you really want to perform on my stage, check the casting notices later.”
Sandra Gurs shot down my pitch flat. But I didn't back off.
Normally, I'd politely say “Sorry for the intrusion” and leave, but I had my own non-negotiables this time.
“With the show on the brink of collapse, can you afford to be picky? You don't know—maybe this rude aspiring actor you met on the street will save it.”
“...Ha. Look, I'm telling you this because you don't seem like the type to back down easily. Do you know how long it took rising star Pierre to memorize this script? Two whole months. Two months.”
The smile faded from Sandra Gurs's face.
“And now? Barely a week left. Not even enough time to memorize the lines. So, let me ask you: Can you memorize the entire script in that week, sync up with the cast, and pull off the full performance?”
His words hit like a challenge, but I nodded calmly.
“That'll be plenty.”
No bluff—this was genuine. With the veteran savvy and experience from Actor Consciousness fully synced, my instincts screamed it was a piece of cake.
Sandra Gurs let out a small sigh at my response. He stared at me intently for a moment, then pulled out his smartphone, fiddled with it, and handed it over.
* * *
Sandra Gurs tapped his smartphone, bringing up the script for a minor role from his last holographic musical. He handed it to the nameless human towering over him.
Script: Fram's Lines (Minor Role)
“See that? It's the script for Fram from my last show. Not knocking his skills, but it's no lead role. In other words, a supporting part.”
The human took the phone without a change in expression, just staring at the script.
“Even a supporting script is that thick. Think you can really memorize the entire lead script?”
“.......”
No answer came. Sandra Gurs didn't smirk with a “Knew it”—he just swallowed a bitter sigh. Hot-blooded youths like this, blowing things out of proportion, were a dime a dozen.
And geniuses? They often hid among them. The ones who crushed overwhelming problems with sheer talent in a single blow.
If only this kid were one of those geniuses.
If he was, all of Sandra Gurs's woes would vanish.
This show had VIPs lined up, even Yonghui herself. What a headache.
It was a massive production with celebrities and the new generation's hope, Yonghui, set to attend. And now this disaster. Apologizing to them was bad enough, but renegotiating with the broadcaster for the live stream contract? That drained him.
He let out an unguarded sigh and looked up at the boy again.
Human's a bit iffy, but the looks are solid.
Androgynous beauty anyone would love. If he weren't human, Sandra might've cast him in another role later. He didn't discriminate personally, but he knew the world didn't bend to his whims.
Always pick what audiences craved. That principle made him a holographic master.
Sure, some viewers liked humans, but non-humans dominated the crowd.
Even if the kid somehow memorized the script—a slim chance—he'd only have amateur-level acting. No reason to cast him.
Time's up.
Three minutes since handing over the phone. Plenty for the naive boy to face reality.
“...That's enough. You've done plenty. With that passion, your day in the spotlight will come.”
Comforting the dejected kid, he reached for the phone.
“Have a good day, nameless boy.”
He gave a slight bow, moistened his dry throat with coffee, and turned to leave.
That's when it happened.
“...HQ, respond! This is Alpha Seven! Isolated in erosion zone! Suppression device almost depleted! Requesting support—repeat, requesting support!”
A soldier's voice rang in Sandra Gurs's ears as he walked. He hadn't even identified the speaker, but the voice alone conjured a battle-hardened vet in his mind.
Mesmerized, Sandra turned around. There stood the boy from before, staring into space with a grim expression, mouth moving.
His eyes had changed—almost didn't recognize him. And those lines... they sounded familiar?
“...Damn, signal's out. Of all times. This sucks.”
A few more lines, and Sandra realized: they were from the script he'd just shown.
Did he memorize it all in that short time?
Impossible.
Sandra, decades in musicals even before holographics, shook his head. Probably just a few lines.
But for some reason, he couldn't look away.
“No way out... Hey! Corporal Caliph! Snap out of it! Marcel, got a pressure bandage...? Here. I'll do it. Corporal Caliph! Hang in there—that's an order! You're going home alive!”
The boy was clearly acting to thin air. Some might call him crazy and move on, but Sandra couldn't.
He wouldn't.
Because in the space the boy stared at, a bleeding soldier now lay collapsed. Sandra's brain, captivated by the performance, was conjuring illusions.
.....
Sandra let the illusion linger. His heart raced.
A scene he'd only imagined was unfolding before him. Suddenly, he was in a dusty outpost amid chaos.
“...Attention, everyone! We have to choose now. HQ might've given up on us. But we can't leave our comrades as erosion entity chow. Scared? Run. But I'm not leaving them. Go if you want!”
The boy fixed Sandra with a resolute gaze. Overwhelmed, Sandra looked around. Soldiers everywhere stared back alongside him.
No one answered. No one moved.
“...Ha, you bastards. Posing till you drop. Fine! No retreats now—get ready! We're going home alive!”
With those words, the scene shifted. From the outpost rallying resolve to a live battlefield, explosions everywhere, lives snuffed out in real time.
“Five o'clock, 5th-grade erosion entity! Eroded ogre suspected! Hold the line! If we break, our comrades die!”
Sandra's heart pounded wildly. Was this acting, or was he truly in the fray for some reason? He couldn't tell.
Then!
“Marcel! Get back now!”
The boy lunged toward a soldier, shouting—then his body reeled as if struck.
Climax. Like a spotlight on the lead, light bathed the boy.
He crumpled to his knees, gasping, then coughed blood.
“...Ma... rcel. Not... your fault. Stay sharp. F... rom now on, you're... squad leader. You have to... get everyone... home alive.”
The soldier shook him, tears streaming. The boy gave a hollow smile.
“...You idiot. Crying... till the end.”
His hand hit the dirt limply.
“...Live.”
The boy's breath stopped.
The soldier gently laid the body down, held back sobs, and saluted.
“.....”
Sandra snapped to—saluting the boy himself.
Then, the corpse's eyes flashed open.
“So, still planning to leave it for another day?”
Back to his calm expression, the boy met Sandra's gaze and asked.
“.....!”
Only then did Sandra's mind return to reality.
“Whoa, who's that guy?”
“Couldn't even breathe till now.”
“Hey, isn't that dwarf over there Sandra Gurs?”
Blue sky, cars on the road, passersby applauding the boy.
“...Huh.”
Cold coffee in Sandra's trembling hand. He took a sip and spoke in a quivering voice.
“...Shall we stamp the contract right now?”
He'd found a genius. A spec-breaking one.