The next day, I was ready for the final audition. Haruto said they would give me a new script. Honestly, I didn't have high expectations. Normally, I could glance through a script, get into the role, and be done. But this time? Something felt different.
Haruto was waiting for me in front of the studio, looking excited. "Kaito! Here's your script!" he said, handing me a stack of papers. "It's about a dark detective with a secret past. The character is deep and full of inner conflict. You'll definitely nail it."
As I opened the script, a notification appeared before me like a game screen.
Dark Detective Script
Rating: C
Comment: The plot twist is predictable. The main character lacks depth and emotion.
I let out a quiet snort. But there was something intriguing about this script it felt heavier than I expected. As I began reading, the world around me slowly started to change. The warm, comfortable air of the studio suddenly turned cold, carrying the smell of dampness and rusty metal, as if I were in an underground tunnel.
In an instant, I was pulled into the story's world. A dark corridor stretched ahead, with flickering lights on the ceiling casting faint shadows on the grimy walls. My right hand felt cold not from the studio's AC, but from holding a lit match. Its crackling sound echoed in the silence.
I was a detective trapped in an unsolved serial murder case. Every breath felt heavy, and the air around me was thick with dust. The feeling was too real.
I started walking down the narrow corridor, my feet hitting the rough concrete floor. Each step echoed, amplifying the loneliness and danger lingering around me. Ahead, a man stood in the shadows. His eyes were vacant, but a clear sense of menace lingered in his expression. Suspicion surged within me a genuine, palpable suspicion.
A faint noise echoed, and suddenly the man pulled something from his coat a gun. Before I could react, the sound of gunfire filled the air. A sharp heat pierced my left shoulder.
"Argh!"
My scream echoed down the narrow corridor. I collapsed, clutching my shoulder that now felt like it was on fire. The pain was excruciating, spreading quickly from my shoulder through my entire body. Blood flowed freely, its warmth soaking through my clothes.
"Damn it," I groaned, barely able to hold back another scream.
My breathing was ragged, and my heartbeat pounded loudly in my ears. I tried to reach for my shoulder, but every movement only made the pain sharper.
"Why... does this feel... so real?"
I forced myself to stand, but my legs were trembling. With every attempt to get up, the throbbing pain intensified like thousands of needles stabbing from within. I couldn't stop the pained gasps escaping my mouth.
The man approached, his heavy footsteps matching the erratic rhythm of my heartbeat. His cold gaze met mine, and before I could react, he pulled the trigger again. This time, the bullet struck my chest. I collapsed instantly, the sound of my bones hitting the concrete floor reverberating painfully. My breath hitched, and I felt the blood flow faster.
Every second was a fight to stay conscious. The pain in my chest grew overwhelming, as if my lungs couldn't hold any more air.
"It... hurts..." I whispered.
I struggled to stay awake, but my vision blurred, and my body felt heavier.
Just as I was about to surrender to the pain, the world around me began to fade, like a screen dimming at the end of a game. The pain lingered, but slowly diminished, leaving behind a dull ache.
I opened my eyes, and I was back in the studio. My body still felt weak, my breath heavy, and the pain in my shoulder and chest lingered like the remnants of a vivid nightmare. Haruto and the judges stood frozen, their eyes wide in shock.
"Perfect..."
One of the judges spoke in awe, his voice hoarse with disbelief. "Kaito, that performance was... incredibly real."
I exhaled, trying to calm my still-pounding heart. They didn't know what I experienced wasn't just acting. It hurt.
After a brief rest, I was asked to try another script that the manager had just handed me. Without hesitation, I opened the first page.
Wandering Samurai Script
Rating: A
Comment: Strong character and deep plot, though some action scenes lack drama.
I frowned as I read the evaluation. It seemed more serious than the previous script. Holding the script tightly, the world around me started to shift once again. This time, a cool breeze blew from all directions. The once warm and calm air was now filled with the scent of wet soil and fallen leaves.
I looked around. Old wooden houses lined the gravel road. A long sword hung at my side. My hand instinctively gripped its hilt, as if the weapon was an extension of my body. I stood straighter, like a seasoned warrior accustomed to battle. But what struck me most was the people around me dressed in attire from feudal Japan. I had become a wandering samurai.
"All right, let's begin," I whispered, trying to steady myself even as my heart raced.
Suddenly, a man armed with a sword emerged from behind the trees. His face was twisted with hatred, and his gaze never left the sword at my side.
"I've been waiting for you," he said, his voice hoarse with vengeance.
I couldn't stop myself from swallowing nervously. This scene felt like a real battle. I lifted my sword with a movement so natural it felt second nature, as if I had trained with it for years. When the man attacked, I felt every muscle in my body respond instinctively. Our swords clashed, the sound of metal ringing through the air.
"What is this?" I wondered silently. My movements were smooth and precise. I swung the sword with strength I didn't know I had. As my body moved on its own, my mind kept asking, "How am I doing this? Is this the effect of the script?"
The fight continued, and in an instant, my opponent's sword slashed toward my arm. I tried to dodge, but not entirely in time. The sharp edge grazed my skin, leaving a deep cut.
"Aargh!" A scream escaped my mouth, louder than I expected. The pain was sharp and piercing, as if I had truly been wounded. My hand trembled as I tried to stop the blood flowing heavily from the cut.
"Damn it! This is too real!" I growled, struggling to keep myself from collapsing. Sweat dripped down my forehead, and the stinging sensation spread throughout my arm. I could barely maintain my balance.
The man came at me again with another strike, and this time, his sword hit my shoulder. The pain was overwhelming, as if my body had been torn apart. I nearly lost control, a scream almost breaking free from my lips. But I couldn't afford to lose here.
"I have to... hold on!" I shouted, blocking his final attack with all my strength. My sword struck him cleanly, sending him crashing to the ground. Blood seeped from his body, and a deep hissing sound echoed through his labored breaths.
Then, just as suddenly, the world began to fade. The pain slowly subsided, though it lingered enough to make me tremble. I found myself standing back in the studio, my body still weak and my breath heavy, but there were no visible wounds. It was as if everything had been nothing more than a vivid nightmare.
The director and staff stared at me with wide eyes. One of them even dropped his notepad.
"Kaito... That was... incredible. We could feel every emotion and... every bit of the pain," the director said, his voice filled with awe.
I gave a faint smile, trying to catch my breath. They might be amazed, but I still didn't understand what had just happened. The shifting world, the vivid sensations of wounds and blood what was all this?
I stood in the middle of the room, holding the arm that should have been injured. Sweat continued to trickle down my forehead, and my breathing was uneven, but there was no blood. No wound. I looked at my empty hand, which had been gripping the sword moments ago, and an unsettling feeling crept through me. How could I have felt something so real?
"Damn..." I muttered, trying to steady my breath. My knees wobbled, nearly giving way beneath me.
The pain I felt, like a sword cutting into my flesh, had been so vivid. But I knew it was just acting right? I glanced around. The studio looked ordinary, unchanged, yet in my mind, the memory of the injury remained as real as ever.
"No way... How could it feel that real?" I thought.
I stood still for a few seconds, trying to calm myself, but my mind kept racing. This was more than acting far deeper than anything I had ever experienced before. It felt as if my body had truly been there, in the midst of battle, feeling every detail, even the pain.
I took a step back, my back hitting the studio wall. The crew was still busy praising my performance, but their words barely registered. All I could think about was how? Why did my body still feel as if it had just fought for real? It seemed impossible.
"This acting... is it really just acting?"
I kept asking myself, trying to make sense of what had just happened. My eyes drifted to the director, who was now approaching me, his face glowing with admiration.
"Kaito, I don't know how you did that, but it was extraordinary. I could feel every emotion, and my God, you made us believe you were truly in pain. How did you do it?" the director asked, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
I just looked at him, unable to answer. I wanted to tell him how real it all felt, but saying it aloud seemed strange. They wouldn't understand. Even I didn't understand.
"Uh... I just followed the script," I replied briefly, forcing a smile despite the confusion swirling inside me.
After the director gave further instructions to the crew, I stepped out of the studio and took a deep breath. Outside, I touched the arm that had felt wounded. Though there was no injury now, the faint sensation of pain lingered, like a memory that hadn't fully faded.
"Is this what's going to happen every time I act?" I wondered, trying to calm myself. I was still shaken, but I had to keep moving forward.