“3 presence?”
It was unexpected.
Yoomyeong had assumed it would be an extremely difficult task and that Miho would demand something far greater, but all it asked was for him to obtain an additional 3 presence.
He had even gained 2 presence from something as simple as acting coaching.
Only 3 for such an important deal... Would that really be enough?
{Yeah. It’s quite a concession.}
Miho stuck out its small tongue and licked its lips.
‘That really is a concession...’
Transferring ownership of presence was a significant loss.
Even considering the matter of the ‘boundary,’ Miho could have demanded as much as 5.
But the reason Miho only asked for 3 was...
“Yes. It was originally 57, so even after adding it, it’ll only be 60. That should be fine. Let’s make the deal.”
Yoomyeong accepted the deal, and soon a notification appeared.
Your contract with Spirit Fox has been established.
According to the contract, control over presence will be transferred.
The silver thread connecting him to Miho snapped with a pop.
At that moment, Miho wrinkled its nose slightly.
And then...
Your contract with Spirit Fox has been established.
According to the contract, you must accept the Spirit Fox’s presence.
〈 Presence 〉
59(32+27)/100
‘Hmm...?’
You have received the Spirit Fox’s presence.
〈 Presence 〉
62(32+30)/100
A warm cluster of light flowed into him...
And nothing happened.
{Wh... What the hell?}
‘Why... don’t I feel anything?!’
The Spirit Fox was visibly flustered.
There was only one possible explanation.
‘Did his innate presence increase by more than 1 in the meantime...?’
It was normal for presence to increase through acting and public attention. Even a hardworking actor could gain up to 1 presence in a year.
Yoomyeong had been acting diligently and attracting a great deal of attention since his return, so Miho had estimated that his presence would have risen by around that amount.
That was why the Spirit Fox had suggested the ambiguous number ‘3.’
If his presence hadn’t increased at all during that time, receiving 3 would have caused the balance of presence to reverse.
If it had increased by 1, receiving 3 would make them equal.
And when the balance was equal, the one who obtained the right to use the body depended on ‘willpower.’
In a sense, Miho had intended to give Yoomyeong one more opportunity.
But... why...?
Had his presence really increased by more than 1 in a single year? Was that even possible through human effort...?
The Spirit Fox’s voice sharpened.
{...What was ‘your’ presence number in the notification just now?}
“Huh? Well... I don’t remember... Can’t you check it?”
Seeing Miho’s sudden change in demeanor, Yoomyeong chose his words carefully.
For some reason, Miho was unable to directly check the amount of his presence.
And somehow...
A vague instinct brushed against Yoomyeong’s subconscious, telling him that protecting that information might be important.
Seeing the caution in his expression, Miho let out another sigh.
{Fine. Grr. The deal is done, so go practice your acting.}
The Spirit Fox quickly left the room to hide its emotions.
Wowwwww—
Director Ki’s face overflowed with surprise and admiration.
After two weeks of struggle, the actor had brought back results that far exceeded his expectations.
“Should we reshoot this entire scene using shots above the waist only, Director?”
“I think we should.”
The director and cinematographer discussed it together while holding the script.
Originally, the scene had been planned as a combination of full shots, waist shots, and close ups.
However, this atmosphere wouldn’t survive if they used a stand in.
It would be better to focus entirely on Yoomyeong’s upper body, even if it meant reducing the amount of technical ballet shown.
“We should also remove the shot filmed over Hwaran’s shoulder.”
“Right. The focus shifts to the female lead otherwise.”
It was the scene where Phantom danced the ‘Ghost Giselle,’ his presence seeming to fade away.
To express Hwaran’s perspective of Phantom, they had originally planned a shot filmed over her shoulder. Now, that shot was being removed.
Because the viewer’s focus could unintentionally drift toward Hwaran’s shoulder more than Phantom himself dancing at the center.
His performance truly felt ‘ghostlike,’ because the viewer’s focal point unconsciously blurred.
And yet, because of that, it became beautifully ethereal, as though he might disappear at any moment.
“34 takes 7 and 2—”
“Ready— Action!”
With nothing interrupting the focus on Phantom dancing at the center, only the faint image of him dancing enchantingly floated across the screen.
As the dance ended...
“In this part, you need to express the profound desolation of Giselle in the second act, so empty that even the sound of her movement disappears.”
While instructing Hwaran, Phantom’s presence filled the space once more, as though he had returned from the dead.
The gap between human and nonhuman wavered so precariously that no one could tear their eyes away from the monitor, as though their gazes had been nailed to the screen.
“Director Ki, this really... feels like we might create something extraordinary?”
Cinematographer Choi spoke in a dazed voice.
“That’s... right.”
Director Ki’s voice trembled as well.
And Seryeon seemed to have taken a serious blow from the ‘Giselle of a nonexpert.’
‘That kind of... Giselle...’
She changed out of her flashy clothes into a plain leotard.
She gathered her long hair into a bun, tightly securing it at the crown of her head with a net.
‘In the end...’
The face reflected in the mirror was a familiar, plain one.
When she did ballet, she never wore miniskirts on cold days. Her muscles always had to remain warm and supple to avoid injury during practice.
Back then, the glamorous makeup, stylish clothes, and pedicures that were impossible while wearing pointe shoes had seemed so beautiful.
— I can do things like this now that I’m not dancing ballet anymore.
Trying to comfort herself with thoughts like that, Seryeon had dressed as glamorously as possible whenever she went out. Her father, seeing that, had believed she was recovering and felt relieved.
But it hadn’t really been enjoyable.
Dressed in practice clothes, Seryeon began stretching.
Her legs extended effortlessly, unlike someone who had retired two years ago. Every segment of her spine stretched to its limit until her body reached the floor.
— I couldn’t stop practicing.
Even while trying to accept retirement, she had never managed to skip a single day of practice.
Throughout those long nights when she couldn’t sleep because of the emptiness inside her, she tormented her own body.
She didn’t want the physique she had built through endless effort to waste away.
— No, that’s just an excuse.
If she ever decided to return, what if her body was no longer capable?
Even on the day she first met him,
On that sleepless night filled with determination, she had punished her body again.
Seryeon relaxed her body and sat down on the floor, recalling the Giselle she had seen earlier that day.
Giselle, so light that not even the sound of the air brushing past her during a turn could be heard, had seemed airy like the atmosphere itself.
No matter how much they called it ‘acting,’ it frustrated her.
Giselle belonged to ballerinas.
As someone who had practiced Giselle hundreds, perhaps thousands of times, she couldn’t help but think—
‘I can express it better...!’
Seryeon cautiously lifted her right foot, flexing and pointing her toes.
She stretched and curled the sole of her foot.
Slowly. Agonizingly slowly.
The ligament, already worn and torn, had been declared beyond repair. The only option was to strengthen the surrounding muscles and ligaments to compensate.
It was a slow and exhausting marathon with no guarantee of success no matter how faithfully she endured it.
Seryeon took the first step of that journey.
Shaaa—
The night breeze carried the scent of apples.
Chamomile.
Often used in calming tea, the flowers of the herb carried the scent of apples. Despite its delicate appearance, it grew vigorously like a weed and endured the cold well.
That was why the flower’s meaning was...
‘Strength through adversity.’
Chamomile looked endlessly delicate and pure white, but in truth, it was strong.
It began struggling to bloom.
Director Ki burst into the room.
“Why?”
“Director, what happened?”
Catching his breath, he spoke.
“Hye... Hye...”
“Hye?”
“We got approved for Hyejeondang!”
“What?”
“We submitted our storyboard to the Young Artist Support Project organized by Hyejeondang, and they agreed to lend us a location there to film the ballet theater scenes!”
“Wow!”
Cheers erupted immediately.
What remained were the theater performance scenes to be filmed together with the Aurora Ballet Company.
In the film, the theater was portrayed as the ‘National Opera House,’ though no such place actually existed.
Securing a location had been difficult, so they had initially settled for filming at the Aurora Ballet Theater despite its limited size. But now, unexpected good news had arrived.
“Hyejeondang is not only strict about evaluating performances, it’s also famous for rarely allowing film shoots. They only approve one or two productions a year, and only when they believe the project has artistic value of its own. It seems they liked the script.”
Ki Do-han looked toward Seryeon, who smiled shyly but couldn’t hide her happiness.
“Is it Sujeondang by any chance?”
At Yoomyeong’s question, Ki Do-han shook his head regretfully.
“Sujeondang is Hyejeondang’s signature hall, so they never allow filming there. But ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) still, we got Woocheondang, the second largest hall!”
“Wow...!”
“They can’t lend it to us in the evenings because of scheduled performances, but they said we can film there several days before 3 PM, before Woocheondang’s standby period begins.”
The staff couldn’t contain their excitement.
That day, the director and cinematographer spent their time spreading out aerial views of Woocheondang and discussing which shots to capture.
Only one person continued practicing silently, tightening the ribbons of her ballet shoes again and again.
At last, the day of filming at Hyejeondang arrived.
The actors and staff were already busy setting up inside Hyejeondang.
Rustle—
The Aurora Ballet Company finally arrived. Thirty two ballet dancers poured into the performance hall one after another.
“Wow. Standing on the stage at Hyejeondang really makes you nervous, doesn’t it?”
“It’s not even an official performance, so what’s the big deal?”
“Still, it’s amazing. It feels like standing on the stage of the Paris Opera House.”
“The Paris Opera? What nonsense are you talking about?”
The owner of the slightly husky voice was an extremely thin ballerina with a nervous appearance.
While scolding the colleague beside her as she entered, she suddenly spotted a familiar face.
“Yoon... Seryeon?”
“Ah... Dohee.”
“What are you doing here?”
“...I wrote the screenplay for this film.”
“Oh... a writer? So you changed careers?”
“Not exactly. It just happened that way. I’m acting in it too.”
As Dohee’s eyes narrowed slightly, trying to probe further into the details, the ballerinas entering behind her also recognized Seryeon.
“Oh my, isn’t that Seryeon?”
“Seryeon—”
Former seniors and colleagues surrounded Seryeon with surprised expressions.
“How did this happen? You never contacted us.”
“Is your body... okay?”
“Hehe... yes, well... I’m sorry for not reaching out. Emotionally, I just...”
“What are you talking about?! Ah, our Seryeon must have suffered so much.”
A circle quickly formed around her.
It had always been this way.
There had been genuine rumors that Yoon Seryeon came from a wealthy family because all her shoes and leotards were luxury brands, and with her beautiful face, attention from male dancers never stopped.
On top of that, her straightforward personality had earned her unusual affection even from the senior dancers.
Park Dohee hadn’t envied her from the beginning.
Back at Jinhua Arts High School, Yoon Seryeon had been so famous that her name appeared in every competition, and Dohee herself had wanted to become close friends with someone so pretty and popular.
That was before they became colleagues in the ballet company and were compared constantly.
— Look at the height and precision of Seryeon’s jeté. It’s textbook perfect.
— You’re Yoon Seryeon’s colleague? Does she have a boyfriend?
— Yoon Seryeon was promoted to soloist this time.
And that was without even mentioning the pride of people devoted to the arts.
When pride was directed positively, it could become motivation for self improvement.
But what happened when someone clearly born to stand at the center, someone who also worked harder than anyone else, was right beside you, making victory feel impossible from the start?
‘It’s infuriating.’
When Dohee first heard about Seryeon’s injury, that thought had risen instinctively.
At this point, feelings like that no longer surprised her. The darkness inside her had already grown too large.
‘Why is she...’
Dohee’s gaze briefly dropped toward Seryeon’s foot.
They had said the ligaments were damaged beyond rehabilitation. There was no way she could return...
“Wow~ Seryeon’s the lead? So you’re playing Giselle today?”
“Yes. Since my foot is like this, I can’t dance en pointe, and I need a stand in for the full body shots.”
“I see... but even so, it’s amazing that you’re doing something like this.”
Inside, Dohee sneered.
If you couldn’t dance en pointe, then what kind of classical ballet was that supposed to be?
Right now, she herself was a soloist. Even if Yoon Seryeon never danced ballet again, she would still live comfortably and successfully... but at least in ballet, Dohee had won.
Feeling victorious for the first time, a smile spread across her face.
And then...
The stage for was set, and after the splendid corps de ballet performance, the protagonist Giselle appeared.
Seryeon, tightly securing the ribbons of her ballet shoes, stood waiting in the wings.
