Aura of a Genius Actor

Standing on the balcony of their lodging and looking down at the River Avon, Miho spoke firmly.

{Equivalent exchange.}

Unfortunately, firmness didn't come across very well when delivered in the voice of a baby fox.

Whether she realized it or not, Miho lifted her chin even higher.

{It is the strict law of the Spirit Realm.}

"I thought your position was that the Spirit Realm could go to hell."

{The problem is that corrupt leaders twist the rules to suit their own tastes. The laws governed by nature itself are properly strict.}

Miho agreed to accept his proposal.

However, she stubbornly insisted on an equivalent exchange.

Even when Yu Myeong said she had already given him more than enough, she refused to back down.

What kind of compensation could possibly balance possession?

A script capable of captivating an entire era, like Shakespeare's?

{Your English isn't very good, is it?}

"...I can read fairly well. I've read quite a few scripts and acting theory books in the original language. But speaking and listening? About what you'd expect from someone who faithfully completed a normal Korean education."

{So, not very good.}

"...Yeah."

The English he had used throughout the day—from Heathrow Airport to Stratford upon Avon—must have sounded painfully clumsy to someone like Miho, who had lived here for years.

But why bring that up now?

Wasn't it enough to communicate well enough to travel?

{The ability to read English scripts.}

"Hm?"

{The ability to act in English.}

"......"

{The ability to understand every English language work without subtitles.}

"...!"

{Tempting, isn't it?}

"Something like that... is possible?"

It was an astonishing ability.

He hadn't offered possession in exchange for a reward, but now that he heard it, he wanted it.

Even while wondering whether he'd have a chance to enter overseas markets within seven years, Yu Myeong had studied English steadily. During this trip, he had planned to interact with foreigners as much as possible and practice free conversation.

But that ability...

{Of course, since I'm a performance spirit, it's limited to acting-related situations.}

"What does that mean?"

{It doesn't mean you'll suddenly become good at foreign languages in everyday life.}

"That's amazing. The fact that those can be separated..."

During their European trip, Miho would be allowed to possess him and exercise her "right to act" in any outdoor location she desired.

In exchange, he would receive foreign language abilities restricted to acting.

Was that truly the equivalent exchange Miho spoke of?

"Is that really enough compensation?"

{...Yes.}

"Okay. Then I agree to the contract."

And just like that, the contract was concluded.

The song he had heard the moment he turned on the radio the day before remained vivid in his memory, so he inserted Amy Winehouse's debut album—purchased in Stratford the previous day—into the cassette deck.

Shhhh—

The cassette began to play through a layer of static.

The hiss suited England's weather perfectly, where heavy clouds once again covered the sky.

"When I left my things in your kitchen,

When I said goodbye in your bedroom, I could still smell you."

With soulful jazz serving as background music, Miho resumed the story she had left unfinished the day before.

{Yesterday I was talking about Shakespeare's final work.}

"You mean The Tempest?"

{That's right.}

The Tempest.

The final work written after Miho ended her contract with Shakespeare and parted ways with him.

A work he had written himself.

{I lived as his shadow for twenty five years. But perhaps he felt that he was living as mine. It took him more than twenty years to finally admit it. Hesitantly, awkwardly. He said he wanted to write a work of his own without my help.}

Brilliant talent.

Fame spread across England as thickly as the dark clouds that never seemed to clear from its skies.

Even while enjoying all the wealth and privileges that came with it, yes—

He must have suffered from an inferiority complex.

As he copied down the fascinating stories Miho told him, how could he not have dreamed of writing such plays with his own hands?

"So... what did you say?"

{I told him to do it, of course.}

"You weren't bothered by the idea of another work being added to the name of Shakespeare, the great playwright you helped build?"

Kyahahaha—

Miho burst into loud laughter.

{Only humans obsess over fame. I told the stories I wanted to tell through his hands. If he wrote the stories he wanted to tell and the world gained more good works because of it, how could that be anything but a good thing?}

How generous.

She wasn't attached to worldly values.

Because she belonged to a different world.

If Miho hadn't opposed his writing, then why had they fought?

{The problem was that he transformed his inferiority complex into pride and stopped listening to any of my advice.}

"Advice...?"

{What's The Tempest about?}

The protagonist was Prospero.

Once the Duke of Milan, he was imprisoned in a wooden chest and cast adrift by his power-hungry brother Antonio. He eventually arrived on an island, subdued the creature Caliban who ruled it, and made him his servant.

Later, Alonso, King of Naples, along with his family and Antonio, were shipwrecked on that same island through Prospero's magic. Prospero subjected them to trials until they recognized their mistakes, then inexplicably forgave everyone at the end, abandoned his magic, and arranged a marriage between his daughter and Alonso's son to reconcile the two nations.

{You remember it well. In my opinion, the problem with the work was hypocrisy.}

"Hypocrisy...?"

The modern, worldly term sounded bizarre coming from a baby fox's mouth.

Yu Myeong felt momentarily dizzy.

{He portrays his brother as a villain worthy of death for stealing Naples from him. Yet when he subjugates the creature living on the island, that's treated as perfectly justified.}

"True."

{Britain was beginning its colonial expansion at the time.}

Her eyes narrowed.

{Caliban was a monster to Prospero. But from Caliban's perspective, wasn't Prospero the monster who completely destroyed the life he'd been living peacefully?}

"...I suppose he was."

Miho let out a small sigh.

{When I saw the first work he wrote himself, I was astonished. After twenty five years of watching stories beside me, he'd learned so much. The characters felt alive. The concepts were fascinating. For a moment, I even felt guilty. I wondered if his talent had been buried because he'd spent all those years contracted to me.}

Her expression darkened.

{But then it was hypocrisy. And the ending was terribly complacent. Why forgive everyone for no reason and force a happy ending? It revealed his cowardice. His desire to avoid facing uncomfortable truths and simply smooth everything over.}

Her tone sharpened.

{It could have been a masterpiece. A work that would allow him to stand not as a contractor of a performance spirit, but as William Shakespeare himself. That's why I wanted to help him. No matter how beautiful the prose or vivid the characters, a work loses value if it turns away from the truth of life. I told him we should revise it together.}

Gulp.

Yu Myeong swallowed.

The rest of the story felt destined to be painful.

"What did he... say?"

{He asked if occupying so much of his life wasn't enough. He begged me to stop interfering. He accused me of fearing that he'd tarnish the name of the great Shakespeare.}

"......"

{To him, I was the monster that had occupied his colony.}

His chest ached.

Yu Myeong knew Miho better than anyone.

She was greedy for acting, certainly.

But she was equally softhearted and affectionate.

He imagined how empty she must have felt when she realized that a friend of twenty five years viewed her as a monster.

If only Shakespeare had desired to create his own works sooner.

Miho would have helped him.

She would have taken him as a disciple and found as much joy in nurturing him as she did in writing her own stories.

No.

Perhaps not.

Perhaps it was the same feeling Yu Myeong carried.

The same reason he couldn't bear the thought of taking turns acting with Miho.

{When I informed him that I was ending the contract, he cried and begged me to stay. He said he'd lost his mind for a moment. That I was his only friend. That he hadn't meant it. He was always a timid and affectionate fellow.}

No.

The affectionate one was you.

{Still, how could I continue alongside someone who saw me as a monster? So I left. And after that work, he never wrote another play.}

Miho paused briefly before fixing Yu Myeong with an intense stare.

{So don't misunderstand either. Even if you conquer a barren land, feed the people warm meals, and teach them how to make clothes...}

A warning from a creature whose greatest flaw was her kindness.

{An occupying army is not a friend.}

Miho smiled weakly.

Yu Myeong parked at the hotel he had reserved and left his luggage there.

Then he took the Tube.

The moment he stepped out at Piccadilly Circus Station, it finally began to feel as though he had truly arrived on vacation.

{Sunlight.}

For the first time since arriving in England, the sun was shining.

Morning light filtered through rows of deep green trees, illuminating one exciting sign after another.

The sacred ground of musicals.

The West End.

West End.

The theater district of western London.

A collective name for more than fifty theaters belonging to the Society of London Theatre.

Broadway in New York and the West End in London stood as the twin pillars of the global musical industry.

What made it especially meaningful to Yu Myeong was simple:

This was the birthplace of The Phantom of the Opera.

He had always planned to watch musicals while in London, but more than anything, he wanted to see Phantom first.

That was the reason he had driven to London before dawn.

TKTS.

Enjoying the atmosphere he had previously seen only in photographs, taking in the small musical posters scattered throughout the streets, he made his way through the narrow alleys.

At last he reached Leicester Square.

There stood the TKTS booth selling discounted same day tickets.

Opening time: 10:00 a.m.

Current time: 9:10 a.m.

Already three people were waiting in line.

By now, paying full price for excellent seats was no burden at all.

But Yu Myeong wanted his first viewing to happen this way.

Buying a carefully chosen bargain ticket.

Watching the performance he most wanted to see from a seat that was just a little disappointing.

Holding it in his heart as a poor theater actor would.

"You're lucky. During peak season, same day tickets for Phantom are almost impossible to get."

"Thank you."

He gripped the ticket tightly.

He ate a McDonald's breakfast.

Had a cup of coffee.

Visited the National Gallery.

Walked along the Thames.

And then...

Five in the afternoon.

Trafalgar Square.

Street artists of every kind had claimed their own corners of the plaza.

Standing among them, Yu Myeong took a deep breath.

"Let's begin."

It was Miho's first street performance.