episode_0003

“Hmm-hm~.”

A stout male dwarf, proudly flaunting his diminutive stature, hums a tune as he steps out of the café.

Clutching a steaming cup of coffee, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, his lips always curl with an air of leisure.

And then—the vivid scar etched diagonally across his face.

‘Sandra Guss. Never thought I’d run into someone like him here.’

In Infinite’s End, there exists a system known as part-time jobs.

By assigning characters to part-time gigs suited to their abilities and talents, players could earn various currencies and materials.

Among them, the most lucrative part-time job was, without a doubt, appearing in hological performances.

And Sandra Guss was the renowned director in charge of hological part-time gigs—an oasis for players perpetually starved for resources.

‘There’s hope.’

For someone like me, who needs to secure funds by leveraging my Actor persona, he’s nothing short of a lifeline.

But… what should I even say to him?

If I just blurt out, “Pick me!”, I’ll obviously get shot down, right?

But if I beat around the bush and he just ignores me, what then?

With no room for even a single mistake, my mind floods with endless possibilities.

Then—

-Ring-ring!

“Huh? Who’s this?”

Sandra Guss halts mid-step, fishing out his smartphone from his pocket before answering the call.

The distance between us is roughly 10 meters.

Though I can’t hear the voice on the other end, Sandra’s words, tone, and expression make it easy to guess the situation he’s facing.

“…What? Pierre?! Damn it… Is he hurt anywhere?”

Seems like someone named Pierre got into an accident for some reason.

“…He needs at least three months of treatment to resume activities? And the crucial performance is barely a week away?! Ugh… If it were just an extra, fine, but the lead actor of all people…”

Sandra’s expression hardens before he presses a hand to his forehead and continues.

“…It’s too late to find a replacement now. No choice. We’ll have to postpone. We’ll have to pay the penalty too, but… Huh? Are you insane? It’s not even your fault, so why are you crying? It was just an accident. Don’t worry about it.”

After a few more exchanges, Sandra ends the call.

From what I gathered, Pierre was supposed to be the lead in an upcoming hological performance, but with him caught up in an accident, the entire show is now at risk of being postponed.

Feeling a little guilty for smiling at someone else’s misfortune, but… I can’t help the excitement bubbling up inside me.

I’ve already figured out exactly how to approach Sandra.

“Hah, let’s do this.”

Worst-case scenario, I lose nothing.

I stride toward him with confidence.

Sandra, still clutching his forehead and muttering under his breath:

“Damn it… Why’d things have to go south like this?”

“You seem troubled.”

“Hm? And you are…?”

As I suddenly step forward and speak, Sandra quickly smooths out his stiffened expression and responds with a smile.

Even to a random passerby, he flashes a professional smile—talk about work ethic.

Is this the bare minimum required to be a master of the hological industry?

“I’m someone who prides himself on acting skills second to none. I’d love to butter you up with some roundabout flattery, but since I know your time is precious, I’ll cut to the chase.”

I put on a confident act and let the words flow.

Honestly, speaking through my Actor persona, the weight and inflection in my voice feel different from usual.

It’s… a voice that even I find convincing.

Come to think of it, my speech patterns have shifted slightly too.

“How about entrusting that suddenly vacant lead role to me?”

“…I won’t ask how you knew Pierre got into an accident. I was worked up and spoke too loudly—you must’ve heard everything.”

After listening to me, he rolls his eyes briefly, takes a sip of his coffee, and speaks.

“Do you have any experience?”

“I won’t make excuses. No, I don’t.”

His lips twitch slightly before he maintains his smile and continues calmly.

“You certainly seem to have the qualities an actor should possess, but unfortunately, I’m not one to gamble. If you’re serious about performing on my stage, I suggest keeping an eye out for future casting notices.”

Sandra Guss rejects my proposal outright.

But I don’t back down.

Normally, I’d bow out with a polite “My apologies,” but this time, I have no room to retreat.

“With the entire performance on the verge of collapse, do you really have the luxury to be picky? You never know—maybe some rude, aspiring actor you bumped into on the street could be the one to save your show.”

“…Hah. Listen, I’m only saying this because you don’t seem like the type to back down easily. Do you know how long it took Pierre—a rising star—to memorize the script for this performance? A full two months. Two. Months.”

The smile on Sandra’s face gradually fades.

“And now, with barely a week left? That’s not even enough time to memorize the script, let alone sync up with the rest of the cast. So, let me ask you this: Do you honestly believe you can memorize the entire script in a week, rehearse with the others, and pull off a flawless performance?”

His sharp retort feels like a challenge, but I nod nonchalantly.

“That’s more than enough time.”

This isn’t bravado—I mean it.

Right now, I’ve fully inherited the experience and finesse of my Actor persona.

My instincts are screaming at me.

This? It’s child’s play.

Sandra exhales softly at my response.

After staring me down for a moment, he pulls out his phone, taps a few times, and hands it to me.

What Sandra pulls up on the screen is the script for a minor role from his last hological performance.

He passes the phone to the nameless human towering over him.

“See this? This is the script for Mr. Fram, who appeared in my last show. Not to undermine his acting skills, but the role he played was far from a lead. In short—this is a minor role’s script.”

The human holding the phone stares at the script without a change in expression.

“Even a minor role’s script is this lengthy. Do you truly believe you can memorize the entire lead’s script?”

“…….”

No answer comes.

Instead of scoffing, Sandra swallows a bitter sigh.

Youngsters biting off more than they can chew are a dime a dozen.

And yet, geniuses often emerge from among such reckless souls.

Those who, with overwhelming talent, crush problems that have grown beyond their control.

‘If only this boy were one of those geniuses.’

If he were, Sandra’s crisis would be resolved in an instant.

‘This performance was supposed to host not only numerous dignitaries but even Yonghee… This is frustrating.’

A large-scale show, attended by various celebrities and Yonghee—the hope of the new generation—now faces sudden disaster.

Apologizing to all of them will be a headache, but what drains Sandra’s energy even more is the thought of renegotiating with the broadcasting company contracted for the live stream.

Unable to hold back another sigh, Sandra looks up at the boy again.

‘His being human is a slight drawback, but his looks are undeniably good.’

A handsome face with androgynous beauty that anyone would admire.

Had another race possessed those features, Sandra might’ve considered casting him in a future role, even if not for this production.

Personally, Sandra doesn’t discriminate against humans, but he knows better than anyone that the world doesn’t bend to his will.

Always cater to what the audience prefers.

That principle is what made him a hological maestro.

Sure, some viewers might favor humans, but the ones who don’t far outnumber them.

Even if, by some miracle, this boy memorized the entire script, there’d be no reason to cast him if his acting skills were merely at an amateur level.

‘It’s about time.’

Three minutes have passed since he handed over the phone.

Plenty of time for a naive boy to face reality.

“…That’s enough. You’ve tried your best. With that passion, your time will surely come.”

Offering comforting words to what he assumes is a disheartened boy, he reaches out to take back the phone.

“Well then, have a good day… nameless boy.”

With a slight bow, he takes a sip of his coffee and turns to leave.

Then—

“…Headquarters, respond! This is Alpha Seven! Currently isolated in the Corrosion Zone! The Corrosion Suppressor is on the verge of discharge! Requesting backup, I repeat! We need reinforcements!”

A soldier’s voice rings in Sandra’s ears.

Without even seeing the speaker, Sandra’s mind conjures the image of a battle-hardened veteran who’s spent half his life on the battlefield.

As if entranced, Sandra turns around.

There stands the boy from before, staring into empty space with a hardened expression, lips parting.

His eyes alone have transformed so drastically that Sandra nearly fails to recognize him.

And wait—why do the boy’s words sound so familiar?

“…Damn it, signal’s lost. Of all times… This is bullshit.”

After a few more lines, Sandra realizes—the boy is reciting parts of the script he’d just shown him.

Did he… memorize all those lines in such a short time?

‘Impossible.’

Sandra, with decades of experience in the musical industry even before hologicals, shakes his head.

He must’ve only memorized a few lines.

And yet, for some reason, Sandra can’t look away.

“No way out… Hey! Private Gregor! Snap out of it! Marcel, got any pressure bandages…? Leave it here. I’ll handle it myself. Private Gregor! Hold on—that’s an order! You’re making it back alive!”

The boy is clearly performing to empty air.

Some might dismiss him as a lunatic, but Sandra doesn’t.

No—he can’t.

Because in the void the boy stares at, the image of a bloodied soldier collapsing begins to take shape.

Sandra’s mind, captivated by the boy’s acting, conjures illusions of its own.

‘…..’

Sandra doesn’t dismiss the illusion.

His heart is pounding too hard.

The scenes he’d only ever imagined are now unfolding before his eyes.

Before he knows it, Sandra stands in the middle of a dust-choked battlefield.

“…Listen up! We’ve got a choice to make. HQ might’ve already written us off. But we can’t just leave our comrades to be devoured by Corrosion Beasts. If you’re scared, run. But I—I can’t leave them behind. Those who’re with me, stay!”

The boy locks eyes with Sandra, his gaze fierce.

Overwhelmed, Sandra glances around.

Countless soldiers stand beside him, all staring at the boy.

No answer comes.

No one moves.

“…Hah, you bastards. Still putting on a tough act till the end. Fine! No more running—prepare yourselves! We’re making it back alive!”

With those words, the backdrop shifts.

From the outpost where resolve was forged—

To a battlefield where explosions roar and lives flicker out in real time.

“Seven o’clock—Grade 5 Corrosion Beast spotted! Suspected corrupted ogre! Hold the line! If we fall, our comrades die!”

Sandra’s heart hammers violently.

He can’t tell if this is acting or if, by some twist of fate, he’s truly been transported to the heart of a warzone.

Then—

“Marcel! Fall back now!”

The boy lunges toward a soldier, shouting—only to stagger as if struck by an invisible force.

The climax.

Like a spotlight shining on a stage’s lead, the space around the boy brightens.

Kneeling weakly, he gasps for breath before coughing up blood.

“…M-Mar…cel. Not… your fault… Pull yourself… together. From now… you’re… squad leader. You’ve… gotta get… everyone… home.”

As the soldier shakes him, tears streaming, the boy lets out a weak chuckle.

“…Damn… crybaby. Still… bawling… at the end.”

His hand falls limply to the ground.

“…Live.”

His breath stills.

The soldier silently lays the boy’s body down before saluting, holding back sobs.

“…..”

When Sandra regains his senses, he finds himself saluting the boy as well.

Then—the boy’s corpse suddenly opens its eyes.

“So, still thinking of postponing?”

Back to his usual composed expression, the boy looks at Sandra and asks.

“…..!”

Only then does Sandra snap back to reality.

“Whoa, who is that guy?”

“I couldn’t even breathe watching that.”

“Wait, isn’t that dwarf Sandra Guss?”

The sky is blue, cars pass by, and the surrounding crowd erupts in applause for the boy.

“…Hah.”

In Sandra’s hand is a now-cold cup of coffee.

He takes a sip, then speaks in a trembling voice.

“…Shall we sign the contract right away?”

He’s found a genius.

A genius beyond all standards.