Chapter 5
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: Emergency Iron 777
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What a weird name.
I grabbed one of Uncle's hands and peered at the troupe's signboard with narrowed eyes.
Even so, after all this time, the design wasn't half bad.
"Siu, you're usually pretty well-behaved, but this place is where Uncle's put everything on the line, okay? You gotta be really good. Got it?"
"Yeah."
"Really? For real?"
"Okay."
He only started walking after my listless reply.
For some reason, his handthe one gripping minewas trembling.
He really must have everything riding on this.
"Whew, I don't even know if this is the right thing to do."
Uncle kept muttering nonstop as he headed down... stairs to the basement...?!
"Unca, Unca!"
"Huh?"
"Where goin'?"
"Where? To work, Siu. Like I said."
"No! Actin' stuff's not here. Big wide place."
Theater was supposed to be outdoors, under the open sky.
Why were we heading into this dark basement?
He said we were going to the theater was this all just a big fat lie?
I eyed him suspiciously, wondering if I should even trust this guy.
In his rush, Uncle suddenly scooped me up.
"Siu, I'm in a real hurry right now. This is the chance I've been waiting for. Uncle's gotta get down there quick. Let's go, yeah?"
"Eek, nooo! Not this! Nooo!"
In the end, he hoisted my flailing body onto his back and hurried down the stairs.
I kicked and squirmed the whole way, but the wide space at the bottom left me no choice but to settle down.
He plopped me in a chair, and I sat there blinking, looking around in a daze.
What an enormous living room.
To think there was a space this huge underground incredible.
But he said we were going to the theater. So where the heck was this?
No stage in sight.
Hang on... huh? Is that a prop over there?
As I squinted into the corner, a man strode up quickly.
"Your nephew?"
"Yeah. Sorry about this. My sister dumped the kid on me today and bailed... He's super well-behaved, I swear. I just said he'd watch quietly, so could you maybe"
"Hmm. Kids watch when others rehearse anyway. Let's just get started."
"Thanks, Director!"
Was that guy in charge here?
While Uncle chatted with him, I hopped down from the chair.
Curious, I wandered around, taking it all in.
Big black boxes were stacked in the corner.
Wondering what they were for, I went over and touched one.
Some kind of box covered in mesh.
I passed more large equipment that looked like camera rigs, then spotted what had to be props for plays.
Worn-looking chairs and tables, a shabby tablecloth.
I strolled along, hands clasped behind my back, when something bonked my forehead.
"Ow!"
"Baby, that's a wall! Didn't realize 'cause it's a mirror?"
"Auntie, where's this?"
I'd learned from all those daily guests at Mother's tea parties.
You call older ladies 'Auntie.'
"Huh? This is our troupe's rehearsal room. Wow... kid, you"
"What's that? What's that?"
A mirror?
All of it was mirrors?
"Whoa, what a pretty baby."
"So cute! What's your name, sweetie?"
Strangers crowded around me, chattering away, but that wasn't the point right now.
This whole huge place was mirrors?
I'd thought it stretched on forever because the walls were open.
"But why's there a kid here?"
"Dongwook brought him. Nephew, apparently."
"Dongwook? Oh, right, he's subbing starting today. Man, what kinda idiot gets in a car crash like that, Minseok?"
"He's fine, though. Lucky break for Dongwook. Not a huge role, but it stands out."
I reached out and touched the mirrors surrounding me.
My handsome reflection stared back yeah, real deal.
Truly impressive craftsmanship.
So many clean, massive mirrors.
These had to cost a fortune.
Blanketing the walls with stuff this pricey? Must be a big-deal troupe.
Oscar would flip if he saw this.
I fiddled with the mirror, lost in thought.
It was back when I, Noah Battenberg, was nine.
An invitation arrived for Mother, the Duchess.
From the famed Globe Theatre, London's finest.
Mother, who always hosted actors at the castle, unusually accepted.
She took me and my second brother into the city.
After an hour's carriage ride, we arrived.
The theater glittered under brilliant lights, a world apart.
An outdoor stage more lavish than any Battenberg ballroom.
Fresh flowers adorned the platform.
Torches blazed huge on stage, candles flickered everywhere.
Twilight had fallen, yet it shone like another realm.
And there, I discovered my destiny.
The Globe's play that night: Shakespeare's Richard III.
Its premiere, no less.
Nothing like the dull history books.
A tale no page could capture unfolded before me.
Living, breathing characters within.
Every word they spoke gripped me.
Each breath, each move choked my throat.
At scene's end, I gasped for air.
Even as a clueless kid, I synced my breaths to theirs.
I later learned they were actors, but then? I swore they were the story's people.
I'm gonna be an actor, Oliver.
After that, I'd tell my sole friend my servant Oliver whenever I could.
Of course, he'd clap a hand over my mouth every time.
Say that one more time, and I'll call the guards, Young Master.
Mmph! Pfft! Touch a Battenberg with those filthy hands, Oliver?
Shall I dump your wash water then? Come down to breakfast unwashed, in your nightshirt.
Eek.
Noah Battenberg was a quiet boy.
Outwardly, at least.
With true friend Oliver, I was just a normal prankster kid.
I simply lived quietly, no stain on the Battenberg name.
But after the Globe, my chest burst open.
This is my path. The one where I can breathe.
Chances to see plays? Rare.
Just sneaking peeks at actors Mother hosted in her salon.
Otherwise, I scribbled scripts amid boring lessons.
Never meant to show anyone.
Just... if I didn't, I'd suffocate.
Talk was cheap; castle-bound, acting was impossible.
Until I turned sixteen.
When Oliver swiped my script and showed it to Oscar Pitt.
Young Master! Big trouble!
What now? Did Head Maid Mary's skirt catch fire?
Mocking my apathy, Oliver yelled even louder.
The Oscar Troupe leader called!
...What?
The Oscar Troupe! The one challenging the rising Chamberlain's Men. Their leader read your script and wants to meet you.
No way...
That night, I snuck out, entranced.
Straight to the Oscar Troupe in London.
Ah, so you're the genius behind that script?
Welcomed warmly by Oscar Pitt himself.
"All right, let's rehearse! Everyone knows Minseok's out with that car crash, right? Dongwook's taking over Minor Role 1. One month to opening let's sync up. Applause, everyone!"
A loud voice snapped me from my reverie.
Must be the director.
The guy Uncle talked to earlier bellowed it.
"Whoa, Dongwook's debut!"
"Let's nail it!"
I stood by the mirrors, watching the actors take positions.
Thump-thump.
This tiny body's heart pounded wildly.
Finally. Finally, I get to see it.
Never dreamed I'd witness live acting so vivid after reincarnating.
What would Eastern theater be like?
Four centuries later techniques must've evolved.
I knew this culture's stories intrigued me plenty, so expectations soared.
"Lights up."
Rehearsal began. I watched intently.
Oh ho, handling it like that, huh.
-...!
West side's the audience, got it.
-...!
That actor's projection is solid.
-...!
Even the actresses are this good.
Wish I could show these performers to all those chatty critics back home.
Fascinated by the live show, one actor stepped center.
"You're hilarious. Like a comedian."
Uncle's infamous line from the little room leaked out.
I leaned forward.
"A compliment?"
Uncle sounded stiff, rigid.
Even a puppet would do better.
I tsked, crossing my arms.
At least it was short.
A longer one would've exposed his awful acting flat-out.
"Or an insult?"
Impressive focus.
Staying calm opposite that wooden doll.
I admired his co-star.
Thanks to him, Uncle's getting carried.
I'd crept close to the rehearsal center, drawn in step by step.
Ahem. Better not distract them.
Hands behind back, I feigned disinterest, circling the room to back off.
I'd been glued to the thrilling practice for a while when
I couldn't help but scowl.
"Daddy! Don't go! Daddyyy!"
A new actor crouched, lisping childishly.
Kid role, obviously.
Easy to guess from the act.
Playing younger than your age happened often.
Problem: the overacting made me cringe.
So one-note.
I tsked inwardly.
Even shook my head, hands behind back.
His kid act was comical.
Might sound like praise.
Kids are goofy, hyper things.
But this? Way too exaggerated.
Not every kid line or move needs cartoonish flair.
Hiding the adult-kid mismatch with nonstop mugging?
He kept it up consistently till the end.
Even in sad scenes I was stunned.
Thought actors would've improved in 400 years.
The geniuses I knew would've fainted.
"Take five."
Uncle, sweat-drenched despite doing squat, approached.
Tch tch.
"Siu. Wanna see the stage?"
"The stage?"
Not a total jerk, after all.
Finally saying something I liked.
I toddled after him eagerly, leaving the rehearsal room.
Past a dim hallway, heavy doors swung open musty smell hit first.
"Ew."
"Haha, it's the basement. Bear with it?"
"Nuh."
Pinched nose garbled my words.
Compared to this, the little room's dust was nothing.
Nose plugged, I followed him inside.
Oh. Oscar... that old man would claw out of his grave at this.
Perfect indoor theater for the guy who griped about rain ruining outdoor shows.
Tall stage, neat rows of small sofas upfront fit for a noble salon.
But pretty small-scale.
Maybe 'cause I was used to massive outdoor ones like at home.
This felt downright modest.
Meanwhile, Uncle climbed onstage, beaming at the seats.
"Haha, in a month, I'll be up here."
"Eek, eek. Ngh!"
"Whoa! Siu, I gotcha."
He lifted me as I tried clambering up on short legs.
Coulda grabbed me sooner.
Clap clap.
Vast seats stretched before me.
I clenched my fists, hiding the thrilled swell in my chest.
Standing on the stage I'd craved, I whipped around to Uncle.
Couldn't hold back.
Like... this?
I grabbed his pant leg and bellowed.
"Daddy! Don't go! Daddy!"
My voice boomed through the theater.
Grr, yeah.
This is acting.
Finally, that line satisfied.
I'd bottled up the urge to belt it properly since earlier.
Smug grin at my solid delivery.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Until a sharp voice sliced from behind.