Chapter 5

To be honest, the thought of suggesting that Serika try her hand at voice acting never even crossed my mind.

Yeah, well.

If we compare it to modern times, Serika is practically the only daughter of a mega-wealthy tycoon, whereas I’m no better than the second son of some low-key small business family.

In terms of caste levels, the difference between us is like that between Brahmins and Shudras.

Asking someone as incredible as her to do something like anime dubbing would be insane.

Honestly, the fact that Serika’s even talking to me about voice-related stuff right now already feels overwhelming enough to drive me crazy.

But…

“Still, her voice is just too good, you know.”

That was true.

Even if I exaggerated a little, describing Serika’s voice as sounding like jade beads rolling smoothly wouldn’t be an overstatement at all.

Of course, since she hasn’t had any professional training, there was still a noticeable amateurish awkwardness in her tone.

Even so, her voice was undeniably captivating.

If she had been born on modern Earth, whether she became a voice actress, VTuber, or even whispered ASMR videos on YouTube, her voice alone could’ve made her successful.

As an animation producer myself, I didn’t want to let such a talent go to waste.

So, disregarding the consequences, I played the fool and suggested it to her anyway.

“Me doing the voice of a nymph…? You’re joking, right?”

Serika asked back with a bewildered tone, but I was dead serious.

“Do you really think I’d joke around when it comes to my work?”

Of course, if our tycoon’s eldest daughter showed even a hint of disinterest, I fully intended to pivot and call it a joke.

“…”

Meanwhile, after hearing my words, Serika wore a somewhat dazed expression before nodding her head as if making a decision.

“…Alright, fine. Since this started because of me, I’ll help you out. But first, I need to get permission.”

“Permission? What kind of permission?”

The moment I heard the word “permission,” an instinctive sense of foreboding washed over me.

It was like staring into an abyss I shouldn’t look into—chilling.

“Don’t worry. It won’t take long, I’m sure.”

With those words, Serika left the Terison Baronage and later sent me a letter.

Thankfully, there were no mysterious USB drives or video tapes inside, but it still contained a truly shocking message for me.

The letter was lengthy, but summarized in one sentence, it was pretty straightforward:

[Father wants to talk to you about something related to animation. Can you come by the Dukehouse?]

“…Damn.”

Had I known this would happen, I would’ve never brought it up.

Why does every ominous premonition always turn out to be accurate?

***

The Grinevalt Dukehouse, one of the four great Dukehouses of the Empire and renowned for its noble lineage, wasn’t too far from the Terison Baronage.

Roughly two days’ journey by carriage, give or take.

And that was terrible news for me because it meant I couldn’t use the excuse, “I can’t make it because it’s too far away.”

“Shit.”

Thus, with the heart of a cow being led to slaughter, I arrived at the Grinevalt Dukehouse.

“Ah, we’ve been waiting for you, Ragnar Terison.”

Upon arrival, much to my surprise, the Duke himself was seated in the parlor, patiently awaiting my presence.

“…Sorry to have called you here.”

Adding insult to injury, sitting beside the Duke were Serika, her younger sister Isabelle, and…

“…”

Her older brother Deneb El Grinevalt, whose face practically screamed “annoyance” at my very existence.

‘Ah.’

At a glance, both the Duke and Deneb clearly adored Serika more than life itself.

After all, they’d been glaring at me with thinly veiled suspicion ever since I walked in.

“Let’s start with some tea. We have important matters to discuss.”

“Yes.”

For some reason, it felt less like I was visiting the Dukehouse as a guest and more like I’d been summoned to an intelligence agency. Was this feeling merely paranoia?

As soon as I took a sip of tea, seated across from the Duke, a rapid-fire interrogation began.

“So, I hear you were childhood friends with our Serika?”

“Yes, that’s correct. We met and became friends while I was at the Mage Tower.”

“Hmm. The Mage Tower, huh? That’s where the problem lies.”

“…Excuse me?”

From there, the Duke bombarded me with various questions.

“Why did you leave the Mage Tower, despite being considered a promising talent?”

“Are you considering returning to study magic? Or perhaps becoming a disciple of the Mage Tower Master?”

“If you’re not interested in magic, what are your future aspirations?”

Like a father-in-law interrogating a potential son-in-law, the Duke relentlessly grilled me. Just as I began to question why I was subjected to such scrutiny,

“…Father, please don’t push him too hard. Ragnar is my childhood friend.”

“That’s right, Dad! Don’t be too hard on Ragnar-nii! He’s Serika-neesan’s friend!”

“…Ahem. Understood, Serika. And Isabelle.”

Thanks to Serika’s intervention, the impromptu inquisition abruptly ended.

Do you know the power hierarchy within the Grinevalt Dukehouse? Apparently, Serika ranks #1, Isabelle #2, and the Duke barely makes it to #3.

“Sorry about that, Ragnar. There have been so many strange pests trying to cozy up to our Serika lately that I felt compelled to vet you.”

“…Yes, I understand.”

Clearly, the Duke was a deranged daughter-loving maniac who exercised surprising restraint under these circumstances.

“In that case, let’s move on to the main topic. According to Serika, you’ve created a new art form called ‘animation,’ which involves living, moving pictures, am I correct?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“And you wish for our Serika to lend her voice to this project?”

“Yes.”

“What’s your reasoning?”

Though the Duke posed his question with a sharp gaze, I responded calmly.

Back in the day, working as the lowest of subcontractors in the animation industry, I knew exactly how to answer such questions.

“Because among all the voices I’ve ever heard, Serika’s is the most beautiful.”

Instantly, the Duke’s expression shifted subtly, and Serika’s face turned bright red.

“As an artist, I believe that incorporating Serika’s voice into my work would elevate it to a masterpiece destined for the history books. Surely, you weren’t aware of this fact, Your Grace?”

“…Ahem. Was that so?”

“I can assure you. Fact is, Serika’s voice surpasses even that of acclaimed actors and singers. If you, as a parent, weren’t aware of this, it raises doubts about your discernment, doesn’t it?”

While this statement could be interpreted as a gross insult to the Duke’s judgment, I noticed a subtle twitch at the corner of his mouth.

So… Our daughter’s voice is better than any actor or singer in the Empire?

To the point where it guarantees a masterpiece?

Yeah, obviously! How could it be otherwise?

Kid, you’ve got quite the eye.

“…Ahem, hmm.”

Even Deneb, who had been glaring daggers at me from afar, seemed to be suppressing a smirk. Looks like I hit their sweet spot.

“I see merit in your argument. And… since Serika herself is an artist in her own right, I see no reason to oppose this endeavor.”

“Is that so? Then—”

“But there is one condition.”

Suddenly, the Duke transitioned from his previous enthusiastic demeanor to a cold, calculating nobleman.

“The animations you’ve made thus far have been shown free of charge to the children of noble families, correct?”

“Yes.”

Naturally, since I created these animations to attract kids’ attention in this world.

“However, I cannot condone that.”

“…Pardon?”

“I cannot allow works imbued with Serika’s effort to be shown for free to others. It would demean the value of someone who carries the bloodline of Grinevalt.”

The Duke spoke with finality, indicating this was a non-negotiable stance.

“In light of this, I propose a deal.”

“What might that be?”

“How about instead of showing them for free, you charge people to watch them?”

“You mean… charging the public to watch my animations?”

“Exactly. Not just the children of nobles, but commoners as well. Rent out large theaters or opera houses and screen them there. I believe there’s significant commercial potential.”

The Duke gave a faint smile.

“If you refuse this condition, I will not permit Serika to assist you. Take it or leave it. I have nothing to lose.”

“Father! Honestly, that’s an unreasonable condition! Who would pay to watch an animation?”

Hearing this, Serika jumped to her feet, clearly thinking her father’s demands were absurd.

But…

“I accept.”

“…What?”

“I accept the Duke’s proposal. Might as well give it a shot.”

Listening to the Duke’s offer, I genuinely thought it was worth trying.

The reason was simple.

‘Just think of it as making a theatrical release animation.’

And I knew exactly how to ensure the success of a theatrical release animation.

‘Disney and Pixar are gods. And I’m invincible.’

On Earth, anyone familiar with animation would recognize the legendary status of those two companies.

So basically, benchmarking—or rather, drawing inspiration—from their works would make this ridiculously easy, wouldn’t it?