A burly man approached with a nonchalant expression, then raised his eyebrows.
"Oh."
"How about that? I told you so," Jonas exclaimed enthusiastically to the man.
The newcomer gave me a scrutinizing look before smirking and turning back to Jonas.
"This one's the real deal."
"That's what I'm saying! At first, I thought he came from another troupe."
"Easy mistake. There's a… resemblance."
He circled me, inspecting from every angle.
"Red hair aside, there's a bit of an Adrian Askanian vibe."
"..."
Good thing I cast a light perception distortion spell on myself too.
Still, he's sharp.
I maintained a faint smile, keeping my expression neutral.
Jonas, however, seemed to disagree with the assessment, his eyes wide in surprise.
"Really? You think so?"
"Don't you see it? It's subtle, but it's there."
"I don't know… I don't see it."
The man shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, it's a bit of a blurry resemblance. In any case, using that name in promotions would be risky, so it's better not to."
"It'd draw attention, though! We could have a star actor rise from our troupe!"
"Ha, let's not get ahead of ourselves…."
He whispered something to Jonas, then approached me with a cheerful expression, patting my shoulder.
"Dietrich Granach, was it? You said you wanted to become an actor here?"
"..."
Why am I the exception here? Everyone else seems to start with menial tasks.
I couldn't bring myself to respond, already exasperated by what this implied.
He didn't wait for my answer, nodding to himself as if I'd agreed.
"Alright. Let's give it a shot."
"Wow~"
"So, you managed to join the troupe, huh?"
As I warped back to our lodgings with a conflicted expression, my friends turned to greet me, having been listening in via artifact.
"Did you become an actor already?"
"..."
"If you were going to go with that story, you should've let me test it first! You didn't think it'd work, did you?" Narce teased.
"When was it that you were asking, 'can we really do this?'"
I flopped down on the sofa, and Narce chuckled.
"Guess we didn't notice with Pleroma, but first impressions really are everything."
"Yeah, who knew things would progress this quickly?" Leo added, nodding seriously, his usual playfulness absent.
Honestly, I was surprised too.
Despite claiming they had plenty of apprentices, they still decided to fast-track me as an actor without even testing my skills.
It was clear they'd judged me solely on appearances, which rapidly eroded any faith I had in the troupe's professionalism.
"Last time, you nailed it after just forty minutes of practice. I remember when I watched your Faust, something about it just clicked. You get what I mean?"
"No. The issue isn't the acting—it's that the outcome was unexpected."
I wasn't unfamiliar with this field.
While I had more experience with on-screen work than live theater, it didn't matter since I wasn't here to pursue acting seriously.
I'd merely planned to start with menial work. This turn of events was just… disorienting.
Leo asked, his tone tinged with concern, "I've heard this guy has a deep love for his work. People who meet him casually speak highly of him, but those who've known him for a while all seem to sigh. Are you sure you'll manage?"
Marianne Baum wasn't just the troupe's manager; he was also one of its directors.
Which meant that if my acting fell short, I'd never get into his good graces.
Judging by his reputation, being overlooked might actually be the best-case scenario.
I kept my response simple.
"I'll do my best. Thanks for the info."
"Just focus on building a good relationship with Marianne Baum. You won't need to stay long."
Narce grinned, clearly enjoying the situation, and tried to reassure me.
I returned his smile.
All things considered, this was a good outcome.
Being cast as an actor was a far better opportunity than trying to approach him through menial tasks.
If I caught his attention, I'd have more time to talk with him properly.
***
The following evening, I avoided eye contact as I sat in the practice room, trying to ignore the numerous stares aimed at me.
They weren't friendly.
It was obvious what they were thinking.
If I'd spent time doing menial work and familiarizing myself with the troupe, it might've been different. But instead, I was directly placed into acting lessons after catching the director's eye.
'Sorry, but it couldn't be helped.'
Whatever my plans, I couldn't afford to take my new position lightly.
Especially not if I wanted to gain Marianne Baum's favor.
While I endured the hostility in silence, the door opened.
A middle-aged man with a gentle demeanor entered the room, scanning the group as he walked in.
"Good evening, everyone."
A murmur of surprise rippled through the room. Someone hesitantly asked,
"Uh… Teacher, what brings you here?"
"I heard we have a new student, so I came to see for myself."
He walked over to me without hesitation.
"You must be the newcomer. Your name?"
"Dietrich Granach."
"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Granach. I'm Marianne Baum."
We've met.
I shook his hand briefly.
He examined me closely as we shook hands, then remarked,
"Chris was talking about you all day… and now I see why. I'm looking forward to seeing what you can do."
He must've meant the director I met yesterday.
Hearing someone say they had high expectations for me, even before I'd attended a single lesson, was slightly unsettling.
'He's probably here to see if I'm worth all the fuss.'
Not that there'd be much teaching involved.
This industry rarely invested heavily in training, given the constant influx of talent.
Soon, the acting instructor arrived and greeted Marianne warmly.
"Teacher, you're already here! This must be our new student, Mr. Granach?"
"Yes," I replied.
"I'm Brigitte Huber. Looking forward to working with you."
"Likewise."
"Well then, let's begin. Since we have a newcomer today, we'll start lightly with some lines."
She handed out single-page scripts to the group, the pages typed out on an old typewriter.
'…It's Faust again.'
The man who walked over with an indifferent demeanor raised his eyebrows upon seeing me.
"Oh."
"How about that? I told you so," Jonas exclaimed energetically.
The man examined me intently before glancing back at Jonas with a smirk.
"This time, it's the real deal."
"That's what I'm saying! At first, I thought he came from another troupe."
"Easy to mistake. There's a certain… resemblance."
He began to circle me, observing from different angles.
"Red hair aside, there's a hint of Adrian Askanian about him."
"..."
Good thing I used a subtle perception distortion spell on myself.
Still, his observation was spot-on. I maintained a faint smile, hiding any reaction.
Jonas, however, seemed confused and blinked in surprise.
"Really? You think so?"
"Don't you see it? It's faint, but it's there."
"I don't think so."
The man shrugged. "Fair enough. Either way, it's not worth using that name for promotion. Too risky."
"But imagine the buzz! We could have a star actor rise from our troupe!"
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves…."
The man whispered something to Jonas, then approached me with a friendly smile and patted my shoulder.
"Dietrich Granach, was it? You said you wanted to act?"
"..."
Why does it feel like this is spiraling out of control?
Though I didn't respond, he nodded as if I'd agreed.
"Alright, let's give it a try."
Faust, being a national treasure of a play, was the perfect piece to hand to newcomers.
The script, with its familiar lines, eased my nerves slightly. Quiet chuckles rippled through the room, likely in response to the heavy tension.
"You have ten minutes to analyze. Afterward, we'll start one by one," the acting instructor announced.
Unlike the condensed scripts I'd been given in school, this one contained the full dialogue without omissions.
'At least I know which part this is.'
I took a moment to scan the room, noting the nervous atmosphere as I set my script down.
The two others with scripts were mouthing their lines fervently, while the rest of the group watched us closely.
Following the most intense gaze, I turned and met Marianne Baum's eyes.
To think I'd ever find myself attending acting lessons in a place like this….
"Time's up. Let's begin."
Well, for the chance to infiltrate the Catacombs, this is a bargain.
I broke eye contact with Marianne and closed my script.
***
Marianne Baum sat beside the stage, resting his chin in his hand as he observed the apprentices.
'Certainly a promising presence.'
The new recruit stood out.
He claimed to work for a baronial household, yet he carried himself with an air that suggested he could be the baron himself.
'Not that it matters—such traits are valuable.'
In an era where even commoners could accumulate wealth, nobility had become an aspirational image, a charm that money couldn't buy.
This man had it. He'd be marketable.
'The problem is his acting ability.'
No matter how much appearances mattered, poor acting could empty theaters.
The decision to put him here, bypassing standard procedures, must have been made with the intent of fast-tracking him onto the stage.
If his skill didn't measure up, no amount of backstage maneuvering would convince Marianne to allow it.
"Time's up," the instructor said, tapping the desk.
"Bürfel, you're first."
At the instructor's cue, Bürfel stepped onto the stage, script in hand.
When the instructor signaled to begin, his demeanor shifted instantly.
"Why does hope never leave that man? Forever digging for gold and settling for worms, yet finding joy!"
His strong voice echoed through the room.
Marianne mulled it over.
Bürfel's delivery was solid, his emotions decent. He might make a good youthful Faust.
But that was as far as it went.
The section, Night, comes from Act I of Faust.
It portrays Faust's anguish over his inability to grasp the essence of life, despite mastering countless disciplines. At his lowest point, he contemplates ending his life by drinking poisoned wine.
Though Bürfel conveyed anguish, his performance lacked the resolve that leads to Faust's decision.
"Dare I have strived to emulate you? I had the strength to draw you in but lacked the power to hold you fast."
'Wasting effort in the wrong places.'
Marianne sighed inwardly as Bürfel's lines concluded.
The instructor offered polite applause and a moderate evaluation.
Marianne kept his smile as the next apprentice performed, but his mind wandered. Apprentices were apprentices for a reason.
What truly piqued his curiosity was the newcomer.
Lost in thought, Marianne only noticed the time had passed when the instructor clapped his hands.
"Now, we have only our newest member left."
Granach rose from his seat and stepped onto the stage.
The instructor looked curious.
"Where's your script?"
"If it's not required, I'd prefer to go without it."
"Hmm?"
Marianne removed his hand from his chin and spoke.
"There are over forty lines, Mr. Granach."
"I'm aware."
"If you stop midway, that won't suffice."
"I understand. Unless it's mandatory, I'd rather perform without the script—it's distracting."
Granach's calm smile accompanied his explanation.
'Does he mean he memorized it?'
Unlikely.
This must mean he'd practiced this script many times before.
"Very well. Go ahead."
Marianne gestured for him to begin, intrigued.
Granach nodded and turned his gaze toward a corner of the stage.
"Why does hope never leave that man?"
His voice wasn't forceful but clear and steady.
Marianne followed his line of sight.
Is he directing his performance toward an imagined student?
As soon as the thought occurred, Granach's focus shifted back to the audience.
"Forever digging for gold and settling for worms, yet finding joy! How can such a pure voice echo here, where spirits entwine around me?"
'Hmm.'
He deviated from the script slightly, eliminating the pauses dictated by the lines.
Normally, excessively long sentences risk losing the audience's attention, signaling a lack of stage familiarity.
However, Granach's emotions flowed naturally, unhindered by the potential discord of prolonged despair.
"Yet this once, I must be grateful. My gratitude extends to the most wretched soul on earth—for lifting me from despair that drowned all my senses!"
His voice grew louder, cold and emotionless, yet accompanied by a faint smile.
Marianne narrowed his eyes.
'Is he interpreting Faust as slowly losing his mind?'
It wasn't a bad choice for this pivotal moment when Faust resolves to end his life in pursuit of truth.
'He has an oddly high level of understanding.'
Though it didn't feel like he'd spent much time on stage.
Marianne glanced around.
The instructor, who hadn't seemed particularly expectant, was now grinning ear to ear.
"Dare I have strived to emulate you? I had the strength to draw you in but lacked the power to hold you fast."
Unlike earlier performances, Granach's voice carried a faint trace of self-deprecating laughter, though his expressions remained restrained.
'Not bad.'
His interpretation maintained a consistent intensity, avoiding any jarring shifts in tone.
It aligned closely with Marianne's vision of Faust.
However…
'I'm sensing magic here.'
There wasn't supposed to be a single noble in this room, yet faint traces of mana hung in the air.
Expressionless, Marianne's gaze locked onto Granach.