Chapter 4 : Club

As can be seen from the performance club, it’s not just about watching dance.

It includes not only ballet but also martial arts.

However, martial arts here doesn’t mean fighting with others.

It means performing on stage alone, casting a spell with controlled movements, and putting on a performance.

From the start, sparring has been classified as a separate sport.

What matters is standing alone on stage, overwhelming the surroundings with a magical performance – that’s all.

There’s no particular form or structure to it. What they seek is simply beauty.

Below the stage where the interview is taking place, three senior members were sitting.

In the center was Park Nayul.

She was quiet, observing Yoon Jihoo with a sharp gaze.

Her presence was undeniably strong.

Even though she was still, there was an aura that made it difficult to approach her.

“Next, Kim Dohyun, Yoon Jihoo, Lee Jian.”

The interview was conducted in groups rather than individually.

Two or three people made up a group.

That didn’t mean that all members of the group would pass, though.

They judged based on a combination of various aspects and selected those who would pass.

It was entirely possible that two might pass while I, alone, failed.

Because of this, the senior in charge of filming and the senior in charge of stage direction were both seated at the judges’ table.

A man with a bulging stomach, wearing a shabby shirt, sipped his coffee.

This was Kwon Hyuktae, in charge of filming.

He muttered as he looked at the documents. “Let’s see…

Filming is assigned to Kim Dohyun…

No experience, huh?”

Kwon Hyuktae raised his head, looked around, and seemed a bit flustered.

“Kim Dohyun?

I don’t think they’re here.

Hey, where’s your group member?”

Yoon Jihoo awkwardly smiled and said, “They’re right next to me.”

Lee Jian, holding back laughter, turned around.

It was clear that her shoulders were shaking.

“Oh!

Good.

Plus one point.

Filming is best when it’s subtle.

A faint presence, like it’s there but not really.”

Even though nothing had been done, his favorability increased.

After all, not many had applied for filming.

It might just be that they were happy there was someone who applied at all.

“What are they talking about?”

A senior with light blue hair, in charge of directing, spoke.

This was Seo Yeonhee.

She had a short bob and a stylish appearance.

She was holding a tablet and writing something down.

“Is Lee Jian in charge of directing?”

“Yes, yes!”

Lee Jian responded with a lot of tension.

It was hard to believe this was the same person who had been holding back laughter earlier.

“How can a person change so quickly?”

“What do you think the role of a director is?”

“The performance…

I mean, a director should make the performer shine.”

“Be clear.

Performance or performer?

Which is more important?”

“It depends on the situation, the person!”

She stumbled at the end, making a squeaky sound.

Lee Jian’s face turned red.

Seo Yeonhee quietly stared at her and then muttered.

“Nice.

You know it well.”

Lee Jian, hearing that, immediately smiled widely.

It was the kind of smile that made all her face muscles relax.

Honestly, I had never seen anyone smile like that before.

Clap!

Park Nayul clapped her hands and focused everyone’s attention.

She smiled slightly and said,

“Yoon Jihoo?

I’m not going to ask you anything.

Performance is an art that should be explained through the body, not words.”

“Yes, understood.”

Yoon Jihoo said this, steeling himself.

“Alright, then let’s begin!”

A quiet stillness flowed in the auditorium.

Yoon Jihoo took a deep breath, his face tense, and began his performance.

The first step.

His foot lightly brushed the floor.

The movement was awkward.

The flow wasn’t smooth, and there were subtle breaks between his movements.

Even when he reached out his hand or turned, there was something unstable about it.

Seo Yeonhee crossed her arms and muttered softly.

“Hmm…

Technically lacking.”

Kwon Hyuktae tilted his head and said,

“The impact is lacking.

My heart isn’t racing with that dance.”

But then—

Bang!

Yoon Jihoo took a strong step forward.

He swung his arm and twisted his upper body.

At that moment, the air changed.

Shadows began to rise behind him and began dancing along with him.

Seo Yeonhee quietly smiled.

“Good sense.

Minimize mistakes and maximize the highlights.”

Her gaze wasn’t on Yoon Jihoo but on Lee Jian, who was behind him, frantically adjusting the stage while flapping her arms.

Yoon Jihoo’s performance continued to unfold.

I calmly took it all in with my eyes.

I followed his movements with the filming camera.

What I filmed was being projected onto the massive screen above the stage.

Framing and changing perspectives were also key roles in filming.

The dancer creates the performance.

They capture the audience’s attention with their charm.

The director supports the dancer, making sure their mistakes are as invisible as possible and the highlights are emphasized.

The cameraman provides viewpoints the audience cannot see, offering them a new experience.

The editing role is also performed in real-time.

For example, this.

[Observer’s viewpoint in progress. Searching for the optimal moment.]

I adjusted the camera’s perspective to match my viewpoint.

Looking up from below, I added a bit of slow motion to emphasize the strength in Yoon Jihoo’s steps.

With the help of the system, it became much easier.

I had threatened that if I didn’t make it into the club, I wouldn’t be able to observe the main episodes, so they helped me.

It seems like the system also has some emotional responses.

The performance ended.

A quiet stillness settled in the auditorium.

The three seniors gathered and were discussing intensely.

“I think Lee Jian can pass.

She has a great sense for directing.”

“Using shadow backup dancers requires a certain understanding of dance.

At that level, she could have applied for a dance role.

It’s a shame.”

“Don’t compete with her.”

“Are you already trying to undermine her?

Does that mean she’s passing?”

Park Nayul said, laughing playfully.

“Yeah, she’s passing.”

Seo Yeonhee replied.

“Kim Dohyun is also good.

The way you transitioned perspectives and framed the shots was perfect.

Especially that angle during the highlight—something about it really stirs the heart…”

Kwon Hyuktae, lost in his own world.

The two seniors naturally ignored him and continued the conversation.

“Then, the only one left is Yoon Jihoo.”

[Observer’s viewpoint ended.]

“He’s passing.”

I spoke as I observed the seniors.

From what I overheard through the observer’s viewpoint, I understood.

In the end, it was only a matter of me passing.

Yoon Jihoo was the main character; it would be strange if he failed.

Soon after, the seniors began to explain their decisions about who passed and why.

“Lee Jian?

It was clear she understood dance.

The way she used lighting to conceal mistakes was impressive.

It’s often the little things, like that, that are harder than the highlights.”

Seo Yeonhee’s praise caused Lee Jian to squirm in her seat, flustered.

“Kim Dohyun, you framed shots well.

That one angle, from below to above, was particularly good.”

Kwon Hyuktae suddenly brightened up and put his hand on his chin.

“Hey, this reminds me of an old 90s anime—”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I referenced.

‘Procuti.’ “

“Wow, look at this one?

This one’s something special.”

Lee Jian looked at me like I was strange.

The title might have sounded odd, but it was a masterpiece in its own right.

It was one of the anime that helped me get through tough times.

Finally, Seo Yeonhee turned to look at Yoon Jihoo and said,

“I was going to fail you.”

“So was I.”

Kwon Hyuktae briefly agreed.

Yoon Jihoo’s face darkened instantly.

[Main episode detected. Observer’s viewpoint initiated.]

The system window appeared, and my viewpoint locked into place.

The seniors were talking about what Yoon Jihoo needed to improve.

He bit his lip in frustration, lowering his head.

Looking at him, Park Nayul spoke.

“I was in favor.

I saw potential in you.”

She continued in a calm voice,

“Of course, you’re lacking right now.

But when you danced, you didn’t just think of the movements—you surrendered your body to the moment.”

Their eyes met.

His brown eyes, shaking, and her red ones, shining with conviction.

The two gazes crossed in the middle.

It had power.

The movements were large enough to capture attention on stage.

Especially when he took that step, the flow of air changed.

“Right?”

Yoon Jihoo quietly nodded.

“You should go for a performance in martial arts, not dance.”

“Martial arts?”

His voice trembled slightly.

It seemed like he thought he was going to be eliminated.

“What’s with the expression?

You’re passing.

Let’s figure out the right performance for you.

Then you can grow even more.”

Park Nayul said brightly, smiling.

“Isn’t it great?

You’ll get better!”

For a moment, Yoon Jihoo’s face went blank.

‘I’m in love with you.’

I could feel it clearly.

It was satisfying to see this scene unfold in front of my eyes, just like in the original.

But it didn’t end there.

Cruelly, my gaze turned to Lee Jian.

A gaze I didn’t want to make, but one I was forced to move.

Yoon Jihoo, eyes shining under the bright lights, stared at Park Nayul.

Park Nayul smiled confidently as she looked at Yoon Jihoo.

And there was Lee Jian, watching them.

Her face was hard to make out since she was in a shadowed, unlit spot.

What expression was she making?

The satisfaction of witnessing a scene from the original come to life.

In that brief moment,

I felt a pang of sympathy for Lee Jian.

I already knew how her emotions would change.

Still, in that fleeting moment, the subtle expression she showed stuck with me.

But I was merely an observer.

What would she face, and what would she witness going forward?

Her emotions would become clearer as time went on, and she would come to realize them herself.

And I also knew that it wouldn’t all be sweet.

I knew.