“Wait just a moment, Ragnar. I’ll mobilize all my connections in the art world and bring you the perfect talent to match the nymph’s voice!”
“Uh, Serika, there’s really no need to go through all this trouble…”
“Nope. I’m doing this because I want to, so don’t worry about it. And don’t concern yourself with costs either – I’ve got that covered!”
With that, Serika disappeared from the Baronage Terison along with her younger sister.
“…”
Honestly, everything felt absurd.
‘Why is she suddenly rushing into things?’
Could my animation have been so entertaining to her?
Or was it that she had nothing better to do and seized this as an opportunity when she was bored?
I couldn’t tell what Serika was thinking, but one thing was certain:
“At least there’s no harm coming to me.”
That was true.
Since Serika insisted on covering all expenses herself, there was no financial risk for me.
And once she returned home, she might cool off and change her mind.
So, I lightly dismissed it as a temporary escapade on Serika’s part and tried to erase it from my memory.
However, about a week later, Serika revisited the Baronage Terison—this time accompanied by a crowd of unfamiliar people.
“Ragnar! Sorry I’m late. Even though we hurried, the schedule slipped a bit because we came together.”
“…Who exactly are these people?”
“Who else? They’re the candidates who’ll be voicing your work, ‘Nymph and Goblin.'”
“Are you seriously saying that…”
I stared dumbfounded, but Serika gleamed excitedly and began introducing them.
“This is Lady Eris of the Royal Opera troupe. That one over there is Museetta from the currently famous Russell Theater Group, and this one here is—”
Each person introduced by Serika seemed like a heavyweight in their respective fields.
To give you an idea, even I, someone completely uninterested in theater or opera, had heard their names somewhere before.
‘This girl has completely lost it.’
Even though Serika is the daughter of a duke, gathering such artistic giants in one place is no small feat.
While I stood there stunned, they were quietly whispering among themselves.
“…Even if it’s a request from Lady Grinevalt, does a piece worthy of bringing us all the way out here to this backwater village even exist?”
“It’s an animation. From what I’ve heard, it’s just moving pictures—something kids would like. In that sense, I’ll pass this role onto you guys.”
“I’ll decline too. You see, my schedule next week is packed. Even if I wanted to take on this kind of role, I’m too busy.”
‘Holy crap, they’re ridiculous.’
As I listened to their murmurs, I couldn’t help but snicker.
Well, I understood why they reacted this way.
Even in 21st-century Korea, weren’t there plenty of people who looked down on and trashed anything labeled as “animation”?
‘Ah… everywhere, it’s all washed-up humans…’
Let me clarify: this isn’t because I brought up anime in some internet community and got roasted with comments like “cost-effective entertainment.”
Anyway, I guided them to the screening room with a sense of irritation.
Judging by their attitude, they’d find some excuse after watching the animation and leave the manor on their own.
‘So, watch the anime, then get out of here quickly.’
Exactly 40 minutes later…
“…”
“…”
“…”
The audience of “Nymph and Goblin” had turned to ice.
More accurately, they reacted like people who’d witnessed something far beyond their comprehension.
After a heavy silence,
“…Excuse me, Master Ragnar and Lady Serika.”
Suddenly, a woman sitting in the front row cautiously raised her hand and spoke.
“That… It may be presumptuous, but could we have a moment to discuss our thoughts on the piece?”
“…Huh? Sure, whatever.”
Once Serika and I stepped out, they immediately lowered their voices and began whispering.
“…Amazing. I never knew this kind of art existed in this world. Truly impressive.”
“They said this was a new art form created by Lord Terison. Though it doesn’t seem like much at first glance, he truly was an extraordinary individual. How foolish I was to underestimate animated children’s stories.”
“Although moving images aren’t realistic, precisely because they aren’t real, they can contain boundless imagination within the screen. This art called animation will undoubtedly grow significantly in the future.”
“So, we’re witnessing the birth of a new genre of art, a historic moment?”
“In that case, the role of that little fairy, the nymph, is quite tempting. My voice would suit it perfectly; could you consider giving me that role?”
“Hold on, where are you getting off demanding that? Didn’t you say earlier your schedule was full next week?”
“Well, that was before I knew it’d be like this! If necessary, I’ll pay the penalty fee and cancel all my next week’s schedule!”
“Opera singers stepping aside. This is my chance to shine!”
“Hmph, you opera diva wannabes who can’t act. Just shut up already.”
“What? Did this newbie just talk back to me? Do you know who my senior is? We’ve eaten together, bathed together, done everything together! What?”
“…”
Standing outside the door, I couldn’t help but feel baffled hearing their bickering.
Seriously, why did these folks who were just dissing anime moments ago suddenly change their tune?
Meanwhile, Serika shrugged confidently as if she’d expected this all along.
“Hmm… Seems like everyone’s enthusiasm is recharged, so let’s start with a quick audition?”
“…Sure.”
With that, Serika muttered incomprehensible things like “Looks like I’ve gained more comrades” or “We should host a viewing party after the audition ends.”
What’s with that ecstatic expression on Serika’s face anyway?
I couldn’t understand her inner thoughts at all.
***
Thus, I conducted auditions for two hours to determine who best suited the voice of the nymph.
Afterward, I reached one conclusion.
“None of them fit.”
“…What?”
“I mean, none of the people you brought here are suitable.”
My verdict left Serika blinking in confusion.
“Why? Is it because those people offended you earlier?”
“No, not exactly.”
I shrugged and explained.
“These people are top-notch as theater actors or opera singers. But precisely because of that, they don’t fit as voice actors for animations. Their vocal techniques differ greatly from what’s needed for anime. If they voiced the characters, the audience would likely feel awkward.”
Indeed.
In the past, whenever celebrities or famous actors dubbed anime in Korea, people criticized them endlessly, claiming their acting was “awkward.”
This wasn’t because those individuals were bad actors but rather because they approached anime dubbing the same way they performed in other roles.
It’s no wonder Japan has specialized training schools and agencies for raising voice actors.
“Actually, in cases like this, complete amateurs with no acting experience might be better. Serika, why don’t you try reading this script?”
“Huh? Me? Seriously?”
“Yeah. Judging by how they’re performing, I think you’d do a better job as a voice actor.”
“R-really? If you insist… Ahem, I’ll give it a shot.”
Serika responded with a bright red face to my suggestion.
She obviously felt pressured about reading the script in front of me.
‘Not like it’s a real audition, so there’s no need to feel so stressed.’
Anyway, I only suggested this to show her that there’s not much difference between professional actors’ performances and total beginners’.
“Hmm, hmm. Let’s begin.”
With that, Serika started reading the script shyly.
“…Hmm?”
Simultaneously, my expression began to change as I listened attentively to her performance.
By the time Serika finished reading the entire script with a trembling voice,
I was looking at her with a surprisingly serious expression.
“Hey, Serika.”
“Yeah?”
“Have you ever considered becoming a professional voice actress?”
“W-what? Me, voicing the nymph?”
No matter how I thought about it, her voice was too precious to waste.
Maybe it’s time to debut her as a proper voice actress?