When I bought the item, a heavy scroll thumped into my hand.
Following the system’s guidance, I tore the scroll in half.
It emitted a faint light, then disappeared as if seeping into my hand.
[Skill function unlocked.]
[Congratulations on unlocking the skill function! The CEO, deeply pleased by your progress, has granted you a bonus of 1,000 karma points!]
A slightly unsettling message followed, but I decided to take it positively.
Still, if they were going to give me something, wouldn’t Ochun be better?
It felt like a thoroughly company-centered payback system.
“That is… until I checked the skill’s full description.”
[XP remaining to reach Rare grade: 0/3
Skill scrolls needed for promotion: 0/20]
That’s when I learned I’d need 20 of the same scroll to upgrade the skill.
You gain experience separately, but you also need an item to promote it.
Maybe I should just be glad it requires the same scroll instead of a whole new one.
When I saw that “Unlock Seal!” had been added to the official item list, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
If this were truly a company, then earning income through quests only to spend it in their own company store… it’d be exactly like that.
“Is this company actually a pyramid scheme?”
In pyramid schemes, you don’t get paid by the company — you buy the company’s products with your own money.
But the way this place operates feels pretty… no, very similar.
Forced employment.
Resignation is impossible until you buy a resignation ticket.
And now, pyramid scheme suspicions?
What an incredible company.
“Still… the effect is real.”
The moment I used the skill, it felt like something had truly been unsealed.
Like I’d shrugged off a pressure I hadn’t even known I was carrying — my body suddenly felt lighter.
Since possessing this body, not once had I been able to act the way I wanted.
But now, my performance unfolded exactly the way I imagined.
The irritation I hadn’t even realized had built up melted away like snow.
“Though the casting time was way too short.”
I was so nervous that the effect might wear off before the scene ended.
“And the penalty… was just as real.”
I hadn’t expected to cough up real blood.
On top of that, it felt like someone was ripping out my heart — a sharp, lingering pain still clung to me.
It felt like I’d burned through my actual life force.
Honestly, I hadn’t planned to use it today.
I was saving it for an actual shoot.
[Get cast as the male lead, Yoon Jihwa.
Deadline: Until casting is finalized for the drama Protect My Beloved Second Lead!
Reward: 500 karma points, 20 job points.
Failure: -1,500 karma points or straight to hell]
If that quest hadn’t popped up, I probably wouldn’t have used the skill yet.
“This is insane.”
Even now, I couldn’t believe it.
Is it normal for a quest’s difficulty to suddenly spike like this?
Was it triggered just because I bought a skill?
It was hard not to think so — otherwise, why would such a quest appear out of nowhere?
From my position, the only option was to gamble everything.
The production team probably saw me more as a fit for Yoon Jihwa than Lee Hyuk — but cast me as Lee Hyuk because of my acting limitations.
It made sense. But it wasn’t confirmed.
I had to place my hopes in an unverified guess.
“If this isn’t gambling, then what is?”
So… I used the skill and showed them what I was capable of.
Enough to prove that if I practiced and worked hard, I could pull it off.
“Though whether it was enough to make them reconsider their casting choice… I really don’t know.”
“Haa…”
All I could do now was leave it to fate.
I rinsed my mouth for a while before heading back to the meeting room.
***
The meeting room was eerily quiet.
I figured the manager might try to strike up some chatter with the director and writer while I was gone, but strangely, he was nowhere to be seen.
I didn’t bother asking about his whereabouts — I just quietly took my seat.
When I returned, the two of them gave me polite nods and then spent a long time scribbling notes to each other.
As I watched their hands move busily across the table, I nervously swallowed.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been this anxious about casting…”
Lately, I’ve been re-experiencing a lot of long-forgotten feelings.
“Ahem, Yoo Chaemin-ssi?”
“Y-Yes?”
I jumped at the writer’s voice.
She pushed a copy of her script, already open, toward me.
“Could you try reading scene 45 now?”
[Jihwa: ]
The name hit me the moment my eyes landed on it.
“It’s a scene with Jihwa and Yeoreum… We’d like you to play Jihwa.”
That confirmed it.
“I’m screwed.”
I couldn’t use the skill again.
It was still on cooldown.
To reduce the cooldown, I’d have to upgrade the skill — which, right now, was impossible.
There was a reason I despaired after checking how to level it up.
And to make things worse…
[Please get some rest.]
[Time left until forced unconsciousness: 1:55:12]
The penalty didn’t end with blood.
I didn’t even have the luxury of time to hesitate.
I made a quick decision.
“S-Sorry. I… haven’t practiced Jihwa’s part at all. If I performed it right now… I’d only end up disappointing you greatly. I’m really sorry.”
“Yes, I figured as much…”
She sounded like she’d expected that — but still, her words trailed off in a strange, unfinished way.
As if she had more to say.
“Then, even if you don’t act, could you try reading the lines as naturally as possible?”
“Ah…!”
There was no avoiding this.
Nor should I avoid it.
Otherwise, it might look like I had no will to try at all.
“Yes!”
I answered as confidently as I could and fixed my eyes on the script.
At the same time, I recalled the image of Yoon Jihwa that I had pieced together by reading both the webtoon and the script.
If I were to play Yoon Jihwa, what kind of person would he be? How would he breathe, blink, speak…?
“I have to show them that I’ve done some work.”
After a small breath, I began speaking.
Just as the writer said, I focused on making it sound as natural and unacted as possible—like a real person just talking.
“Ah, Yeoreum. Were you crying again?”
Kind-hearted second male lead, Yoon Jihwa.
The boy who watched Han Yeoreum as she chased after Lee Hyuk.
And so, when she was heartbroken and sad, he was always there quietly by her side.
“Here. Stop crying, okay? Should we go get some tteokbokki?”
He didn’t even like spicy food, but because Han Yeoreum liked it, he ate it with her—so much so that she thought he actually liked spicy food.
“Oh? You smiled. Hey, if you cry and then smile, then, um, you… you know, that thing happens.”
But he was too kind. He didn’t know how to be greedy.
He thought letting her go was the truest form of love.
The boy who wanted to hold onto her, who wanted to confess his feelings, but didn’t even realize his own heart.
“Huh? What thing happens? Uh, it’s just… Yeoreum, let’s go eat tteokbokki, okay?”
And in the end, I made it to the final line of the scene.
‘Weird… I feel like I spoke better than when I actually act.’
My pronunciation and vocal delivery were both better than when I try to act.
It’s not like my skills changed, so…
‘Hmm…’
Could it be that just thinking of something as acting affects my job level cap?
It was still just a theory, but either way, it was a stroke of luck.
This likely helped convince the production team more than a poor performance would have.
The director and writer exchanged glances with serious expressions after listening intently.
Then the director turned to me and said:
“Thank you for your time today. We need to have a discussion and make a decision… We’ll be in touch once that’s done.”
“Ah, yes. Thank you so much for today!”
I shot up automatically and bowed deeply.
When I lifted my head, both the director and the writer were still looking at me with pleasant expressions.
‘Was that a look of… endearment? Must be my imagination.’
I hoped it was more than that.
***
Two days after the meeting.
I received a phone call.
I hesitated for a moment at the unfamiliar number, then tapped the screen.
“Yes, this is Yoo Chaemin…”
As soon as I said the name that still felt unfamiliar to me, a voice I didn’t expect came through.
[Chaemin! Ah, I’m so glad we finally got to talk directly.]
It was Shin Woori, the screenwriter of <Protect My Sub Male Lead!>.
“Writer Shin Woori?”
[Yes, that’s me! You recognized me right away. You have a good memory.]
“No, not at all. But… to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”
Even as I said that, my heart was already pounding with anticipation.
[Well… Chaemin, if there was a chance to play Jihwa instead of Hyuk, would you be interested?]
It was a very polite offer.
Even though it sounded like an internal decision had already been made, she phrased it in a way that gave me full agency.
It was somewhat unexpected, and I was struck by how much had changed since I was younger.
“…Yes.”
[…]
“I know it’s more than I deserve, but… if you’d give me the chance, I’d like to take a shot at it.”
And my answer had already been decided.
***
Not long after, an article announced the casting for <Protect My Sub Male Lead!>.
As everyone expected, the role of Yoon Jihwa had gone to Yoo Chaemin.
But online communities and social media were flooded with mostly negative reactions.
[Title: Anyone read the webtoon for <Protect My Sub Male Lead>? The drama casting is a disaster.]
Guys, it’s over.
Yoon Jihwa is being played by Yoo Chaemin.
Wtf.
LOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL.
I’m seriously speechless.
Jihwa is my favorite male character of all time and they’re letting a terrible actor touch the role???
I’m so mad.
Seriously.
Anonymous: ???? Yoo Chaemin is playing Jihwa? Is this for real?
Anonymous: This post breaks the rumor policy. Please delete.
└ Anonymous: It’s not a rumor. The article is out. It’s official.
└ Anonymous: Please delete. Pls delete. Pls delete. Pls delete. Pls delete. Pls delete. Pls delete. Pls delete. Pls delete. Pls delete.
Anonymous: They’re actually going through with this drama??
I thought it got canned since there was no news for over a year… They should’ve just let it die if they were gonna cast Yoo Chaemin.
Anonymous: This was the best they could do…?
Honestly, the image fits, but the acting ability…….
Anonymous: Sigh This is why I hated seeing people use Yoo Chaemin’s photos for fan casting as Jihwa.
The production team clearly has no idea.
Like… seriously?
Did they cast this with their feet??