The Birth of a Twenty-Million Child Actor

"Sure. Let's grab a meal sometime, unnie."

"Uuuugh…! You mean it? This isn't one of those empty Korean 'let's eat sometime' things where you never actually meet… right…?"

"Pfft. Of course not."

She was already funny when she did her YouTube reviews, but she was just as funny in ordinary conversation.

Safe to say this unnie's personality ran a little different from most people's.

"I want to eat with Yena too…"

"I want to sit her on my lap and stroke her hair…!"

Every last one of those lines had come from the unnies.

Hmm…? Not bad, actually?

I'd become a girl, but my sexual identity was still closer to a man's.

Dating a guy is absolutely off the table.

So if I ever dated in this life, it would be with a girl. And if I got caught dating a girl, the social fallout would be… considerable. That part worried me a little.

An article like that would hit the presses for sure.

Maybe just… not dating is the answer…

Having a face like this and never dating was a little tragic, but anyone who dated me would get buried under media and public attention. Not dating really did seem like the right call.

Aah… stuck with a gorgeous face and still unable to date…!

It was genuinely sad. I'd finally gotten the looks I'd always wanted, and I was still going to die a lifelong single.

Still, I had family. I had friends. I could survive without romance.

"A-rin, want to go on a date tomorrow…?"

"I'd love to…!"

Ah, for fuck's sake.

Why are you two the ones dating.

I stared at Seo A-rin and Park Ha-jun with hollow eyes.

They're serious about this.

Both of them had that slightly unhinged look in their eyes that said they genuinely liked each other.

"Wait, A-rin—did you actually get over your stutter…?"

"Ah, n-no…! I only stop stuttering in front of Ha-jun…!"

Was this the power of love…?

"So how did you two even start going out…?"

"H-Ha-jun was cooking, and I confessed…!"

"?"

I'd assumed Park Ha-jun had been the one to confess. Seo A-rin did it?

Does love really change people that much?

Not like I'd know. Never tried it.

"Yena, you should try dating too. With a face ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠like yours, not dating is such a waste."

"I appreciate the advice, but I'm not planning on it for a while."

Not 'for a while.' Forever. But whatever.

If I said forever, Park Ha-jun would go tattling to Mom and Dad, so I went with "for a while."

If I were the parent, I'd worry too if my ten-year-old daughter announced she was never dating for the rest of her life.

Ah. So even in this life, I was the only one without a partner?

After its second week, Daegu-haeng's momentum finally started to taper off.

Which was only natural. The Admiral hitting twenty-three million had been the real anomaly. Most films lost steam once they crossed the ten-million mark.

Even so, Daegu-haeng had pulled in sixteen million viewers in just two weeks, and on the day it left theaters, it broke twenty million.

"Wow…! The second twenty-million film in history—and it's ours!"

"Heh heh… Nice. Very nice."

Director Hong Jun-seok smiled. Honestly, he hadn't even expected to clear ten million. Blowing past that prediction and landing in the twenty-million club had his dopamine firing on all cylinders.

Looks really were the plot armor…!

Casting Lee Yena and Park Ha-jun had been the right call.

Both of them had face cards strong enough to rule the human world, so countless people got hypnotized by those looks and showed up at the theater. Result: the second twenty-million film in Korean history.

Of course, that wasn't the only reason. There was the story that hooked people from the jump. The lead actors' absurdly good performances. And last but not least, the review YouTubers had done heavy lifting.

That Japanese reviewer, Hiroko Yui. We owe her a lot.

And when you owed someone, you paid up.

Director Hong Jun-seok invited Hiroko Yui to the cast dinner.

Which was how a director, crew, actors, and a review YouTuber ended up at the same table—an odd combination if there ever was one.

"Tonight's on me!"

They'd come for Korean beef. Before the movie blew up, an expense like this would've been unthinkable. Now that it had, things were different.

Gotta flex at least this much. My wife even told me to spend freely tonight.

More than anything, how hard had everyone worked to get here? People had cut sleep to the bone grinding through the edit. This level of reward was the least they deserved.

It's a reward for me too.

And while Hong Jun-seok was busy patting himself on the back for a job well done—

Lee Yena was face-to-face with Hiroko Yui.

"I never thought this promise would actually come true…!"

"I know, right? But please, talk comfortably. You're the unnie here."

"Is that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠really okay…?!"

"Yes."

"Then I'll drop the formal speech…?"

"Please. Make yourself at home."

"There's something I've been curious about—can I ask…?"

"Of course."

"When you cry on camera, how many takes does it take?"

"? That's what you want to know?"

"Yeah! Last time I was live, the chat and I had a whole debate about how many takes it took you!"

They held a debate over that…?

"I cry on the first take."

"That's possible…?"

"Want me to show you?"

"Yeah!"

I started thinking sad thoughts, and less than ten seconds later, tears were already sliding down my cheeks. The fruit of all that training.

"Eh…?"

"Uuu…"

"A Japanese person just made a Korean cry…!"

"Wait, for real…?"

"Ehh?! No—I'm not that kind of person…!"

Actors and staff swarmed in at once, fixed Hiroko Yui with terrifying stares for a solid ten seconds, then burst out laughing.

"Haha! Just kidding!"

"You fall for it so easy!"

"….?"

Once the actors and crew filtered back to their seats, I asked the thing I'd been wondering about.

"Your Korean is really good, though…? It doesn't sound like that in your review ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠videos."

"Ah… Honestly, yeah—I really couldn't speak Korean well at first, just like in the videos…!"

"Meaning…?"

"Well. Two years of reviewing in Korean and it just… leveled up on its own…!"

"So now it's become a bit?"

"Exactly…! I do feel a little bad for the subscribers, like I'm tricking them, but my whole concept is 'Japanese girl who can't speak Korean'!"

"Oh."

Mmm. I could already feel my energy draining.

I do not pair well with people this high-tension.

I burned through more social battery than most people just existing in a conversation, so lasting long with someone this over-the-top was rough.

Well. She does like me, so.

I could probably manage a little longer.

I had miscalculated.

I did not expect her to hold this tension for five straight hours…

"My mom is a winner…! Normally the childhood-friend route is a guaranteed defeat heroine, but she clawed her way past the clubmate, the homeroom teacher, the upperclassman, and the underclassman and locked down my dad…!"

"That's impressive."

It genuinely was.

The childhood-friend slot was usually a death sentence, and she'd still won. Hiroko Yui's mother had to be something else.

"Could I meet her someday?"

I was curious now. What kind of personality produced a victory like that.

"Of course…! Next time I'll invite you to our place, and you can meet her then…!"

"Sounds good."

The tension was excessive, but I could see how much she liked me, so four hours felt manageable.

Five hours, the way we were going now—that was another story.

"I should head home…"

"Ah… okay…! See you next time, Yena…!"

"Yes."

It was already ten.

If I wanted a height advantage over my past life, proper sleep was non-negotiable, so I left the dinner with Mom.

"Yui really likes you a lot."

"She does."

"What do you think of Yui unnie?"

"I think she's a good person. Good enough that I'd be fine making her my first unnie."

"That's high praise."

"Yes."

Hiroko Yui.

Owner of a slightly overwhelming tension level, sure—but she liked me, so keeping her around felt fine.

About once a month, though…?

This much tension was a once-a-month kind of load.

On its final day, Daegu-haeng closed out with twenty million viewers.

And just like that, Korea had another twenty-million film.

Naturally, every actor in the cast saw their name recognition skyrocket—but the ones who blew up the hardest were, surprisingly, the child actors: Lee Yena and Park Ha-jun.

Lee Yena's looks sat at S+, the peak of the human ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠world, and Park Ha-jun's at S−, a face that could hold its own on the global stage.

Most people who saw the movie walked away with both of them burned into their memory.

Considering that new adult actors or veteran performers usually got more airtime than child actors, it was a pretty unusual situation.

People were already looking forward to whatever path the two child actors would take next.

And while the public was busy pinning their hopes on Lee Yena, what was Lee Yena actually doing?

Learning taekwondo.

"Hiyah!"

Crack!

"Nice! This time, two boards!"

"Haya!"

Pretty fun, actually.

I'd never learned taekwondo before, and it was surprisingly enjoyable.

The rush when a break landed clean was no joke either.

I'd probably keep at it for a while.

I should be able to protect this body myself.

We were moving somewhere with better security soon anyway. Becoming a twenty-million child actor had sent my fame through the roof.

Fame had its upsides, sure—but the downsides would show up too.

I'll just push taekwondo all the way to EX.

I pulled up the system window and dumped the points I'd gotten from the Reincarnation of the Delphic Priestess title straight into taekwondo.

The system window updated like this:

Next time some weirdo comes near me, I can just serve them a spinning back kick.

I had become a taekwondo master.