I Want to Be a VTuber
Chapter 327: Striking the Heart (4)

"You..."

Hong Seha’s voice trembled violently.

Like a candle flame, as if it might go out at any moment.

"It really was you. Yeah, that’s right. The face I saw back then—it’s exactly the same."

A scene from Hong Seha’s past, briefly shown a few times in the drama, appeared.

Seha holding her breath, hiding in a wardrobe.

And the face visible through the crack in the wardrobe door.

The face of the murderer who killed her father looked exactly like Adam’s now.

"The first test subject."

Adam chuckled and spoke.

"I received Yeonseo’s serum and gained psychic powers. But to adapt to the power, I needed a small experiment."

The one chosen for that experiment was none other than Hong Seha’s father.

Originally an investor in the research—and the man who was about to blow the whistle on it.

"This was something the Korean research lab agreed on. America still didn’t want the world to know about psychics either."

Considering the origin of this research, it was understandable.

Immortality.

They didn’t want the fact that they’d found a clue to that to be revealed to the world.

"That’s why I volunteered. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d have a reason to use this power for a long time anyway."

"For something... something that trivial?!"

"It’s not trivial, Hong Seha. The shackles that have long held back human potential are finally about to be broken. Your father tried to stop that possibility."

Just as Adam said that, he suddenly seemed to realize something.

"Oh right, you don’t know what this research is about, do you? Did you think it was just psychic research?"

"You—!"

"Then you should’ve just stayed a bystander. Why stick your nose where it doesn’t belong? That’s why it came to this."

At Adam’s words, Hong Seha’s eyes twisted in pain.

Her lips parted as if to speak.

Her breathing turned rough, and she looked like she might collapse at any moment.

The heavy background music underscored the overwhelming tension, ready to explode.

Everyone was watching Sehee.

The students of the drama club gathered in the auditorium.

Even their advisor, Teacher Song Dayeon.

And Lee Jiyeon and Seoyeon, too.

“That doesn’t feel like me.”

Watching all those people, Jo Sehee clasped her hands together.

Her hands were trembling, subtly.

She couldn’t bring herself to face the performance on screen.

It felt like watching the moment she was first cracking out of an egg.

“Showing emotion... it’s this embarrassing.”

She thought this while watching Seoyeon’s acting.

Seoyeon always said that her acting was just borrowing from something else and layering it on.

Imitation.

Sehee didn’t necessarily try to copy that style.

It’s just... even if Seoyeon’s acting was imitation, even if it was merely layered on top, it felt endlessly real.

No—it was real.

Human emotion isn’t something inherently special.

It’s the accumulation of countless experiences.

And with time, everyone develops their own way of expressing it.

That was what Seoyeon’s acting was, in the end.

She called it imitation, but what was ultimately expressed was something new.

She painted over her own emotions with the situation to create new ones.

But that acting was so powerful.

For a moment, it made Sehee forget her mother’s acting—something that had haunted her for so long like a curse.

And once she forgot her mother’s acting, she couldn’t quite remember how she herself used to act.

How did I act, at the very beginning?

Surely, at first, I wasn’t just chasing after my mother’s shadow.

When did it start?

When did I begin trying to reclaim my mother’s acting?

Starlight.

Chasing the North Star.

“Maybe... maybe I really don’t have talent.”

That thought suddenly popped into her head, and she let out a small scoff.

Come to think of it, her dream wasn’t even to become an actress in the first place.

That dream of becoming an actress—

Yes, it was something she decided on the day her mother passed away.

"Mom, when I grow up, I’m going to be a teacher."

Opening a picture book in her hands, young Sehee said that to her mother.

To her mother, who always came home late from work.

"A teacher? That sounds nice~. My daughter’s so sharp, I’m sure you’d be great at it."

"Yeah! My kindergarten teacher said so too. She said I’m sharp and would be really good at it."

"But wouldn’t it be kind of hard? You’d feel sad if your students didn’t listen to you."

"Sehee’s strong-hearted, so I’ll be fine!"

"...You’re right. My daughter is strong-hearted. You didn’t cry much, even as a baby. Did you get that from your dad?"

Her mom said that and smiled.

It was just another ordinary day.

"I already want to see what Sehee will be like when she grows up. I’m curious how sharp she’ll be by then."

That day, after having that conversation, writing in her diary, and falling asleep—

That was the day her mother fell into eternal sleep.

"It was suicide, wasn’t it?"

"Shhh, someone might hear."

"Poor thing... the kid’s still so young."

"Maybe it was the pressure from her work. She took a lot of heat from her last role."

As always, early in the morning—

Trying to live a proper life, Sehee woke up earlier than anyone.

She wanted to be praised for waking up early.

The only time she could talk with her mom was in that short window before she left for work.

Her dad was always so busy, he barely came home.

But that was fine.

Sehee liked her busy mom and dad.

She believed she was born into a very happy home—too happy to have complaints.

That’s what she thought.

At least, until the morning she saw her mom collapsed with a pill bottle in hand.

"Dad... Dad... Mom..."

She was the one who called the ambulance.

The one who told her dad.

It was still early in the morning, before the housekeeper came to work.

“It wasn’t suicide.”

People said her mother’s death was suicide.

Her mother, Baek Seran, had indeed struggled with depression.

She wasn’t a strong-willed person, honestly.

Yes, she had been using medication to get through it.

But it wasn’t suicide.

It was just... an accident.

In the early dawn hours, overwhelmed by a sudden panic attack, she took her meds and passed out.

The problem was that she collapsed head-first onto the ground.

"Dad."

Sehee spoke to her father, who had placed a hand on her shoulder.

Wearing a black suit, staring at her mother’s portrait, he didn’t answer.

Of course, she hadn’t expected a reply.

"I want to be an actress."

"...What?"

Maybe because it came out so suddenly—

Jo Seokhwan quickly stepped in front of her and knelt down.

"Why are you saying something like that all of a sudden? I absolutely can’t allow it."

Jo Seokhwan was opposed to Sehee becoming an actress.

Even though he ran Newlike Group, a company deeply involved in the entertainment industry, he couldn’t allow his daughter to be part of it.

A genius actress, a shining star.

That’s how Baek Seran had been praised. But the shadows were just as deep.

The more fans she had, the more haters there were too.

On the internet, even small things would spark controversy.

That’s why Baek Seran died.

If she hadn’t been an actress, maybe she wouldn’t have even developed depression.

It was an accident, yes, but it was practically murder.

That’s how Jo Seokhwan saw it.

And so, he would never let his daughter become an actress.

"People say..."

But Jo Sehee spoke in a trembling voice.

"They say Mom became a star in the sky."

That made Jo Seokhwan fall silent for a moment.

"They say she’s a star, brighter than anyone, and that she’ll be watching over me."

He figured it was something people said just to comfort a child.

Maybe Sehee was too young to accept her mother’s “death,” and this was her way of coping.

"But..."

Sehee’s lips quivered.

Her big eyes welled up and blinked several times.

A tearful, trembling voice—

As if she was trying desperately not to cry.

"Because she was such a bright star, she might not be able to see me."

Too dazzling.

She might not be able to find someone as small as Sehee.

"That’s why..."

That’s why Sehee wanted to shine.

Just like her mom, who sparkled so brightly.

"I’ll go find her."

So her mom wouldn’t have to search for her.

If she could become a star too—maybe she could meet her.

That’s what young Sehee believed.

"Yeah. I’ll become an actress."

Like her mom.

No—an even greater actress than her mom.

She wanted to achieve the things her mom couldn’t.

She wanted to fulfill them for her.

"Absolutely not."

Surely, Mom may have struggled with this job.

But still, there were so many things she wanted to do.

Every morning, when they talked, Baek Seran would share so much.

What kind of actress she wanted to become.

What kind of movies she wanted to make.

A genius actress.

Having been praised as such, there were definitely things she could’ve achieved, if only time had allowed.

That’s why Sehee decided to become an actress.

It wasn’t all that difficult.

Fortunately, Sehee had grown up watching her mom’s dramas, her performances, always following in her footsteps.

Sometimes, her mom even taught her.

Maybe—maybe her mother had secretly hoped she would become an actress, too.

Of course, Sehee didn’t choose acting because of that.

She just wanted to become a star.

To shine brighter than anyone.

She didn’t want to rely on her father’s power.

Because people would talk—she was sure of it.

That she had a conglomerate backing her.

Or that she was riding on the connections of the genius actress Baek Seran.

She didn’t want the spotlight to focus on her background rather than her skill.

Only her own talent.

Only her own effort—she wanted to rise with that alone.

Because if not, Sehee would be forced to doubt herself.

It would be the same as admitting she didn’t have the talent to become a star.

So—

"A parachute?"

She didn’t like people who got in through someone else’s recommendation.

Not when she thought about all the effort it took for her to land a role in a daily drama.

Sure, it was only a year.

Sehee hadn’t spent all that long on it either.

But still, she didn’t like it.

Riding on someone else's power and trampling over someone else’s effort—

She just didn’t expect that girl to deliver a performance like that.

Sehee glanced sideways, watching Seoyeon watch her performance.

Outwardly, she looked like a cold and distant girl—but Sehee knew better.

Seoyeon was a truly warm person.

A little mischievous, kind of childish at times.

But fundamentally, someone who always thought of others first.

A rare kind of person in this industry.

That’s why—just like her acting, Sehee liked Seoyeon.

“So? What did you think?”

Sehee wanted to ask.

To Seoyeon, who was completely absorbed in the drama right now.

“My performance.”

"I never forgot. Not for a single day."

‘Hong Seha’s’ voice trembled.

A voice wet with tears, merging with the heavy background music—it sent shivers through the body.

"The moment you killed my father... and the look in his eyes ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) as he lay dying, staring at me."

Seha’s hand moved, pointing the gun at Adam.

Her voice trembled, but her eyes burned with fire.

Hatred. Resentment.

All those complex emotions swirled in those eyes.

To overwhelm someone, you don’t need a lot of lines.

"That memory played on loop inside my head, endlessly. Left behind a scar that will never fade. But actually... I think I’m lucky. Because I could hold on to the hatred I felt that day—exactly as it was."

Her voice cracked, the words spilling out in fragmented bursts.

It was almost raw acting.

But the technique and vocal training she’d built up until now kept it from feeling awkward.

“When you become too fixed in your style as an actor, it becomes hard to break out of it.”

Sehee knew that.

That’s why she’d been mimicking her mother’s acting—to break free of it. But in the end, it had become a poison instead.

Her mother’s dazzling, star-like performance—it didn’t suit her.

Her own acting was darker.

More fierce. That’s what fit her best.

Maybe, in some ways, she was closer to Seoyeon.

It wasn’t method acting or anything like that, but Sehee shone the brightest when she expressed real emotions without embellishment.

"I’ll take revenge, Adam Lowell."

In that hate-filled voice, even the mocking smile on Adam’s face vanished.

And then—Hong Seha’s finger moved on the trigger.

"Even if I die here today. I’ll never forgive you."

The bullet fired from the gun flew straight at Adam.

Of course, Adam easily dodged the bullet, and before anyone could blink, he grabbed Seha by the neck and slammed her against the wall.

A scream—and the gun clattered to the ground.

"There are no such things as miracles in this world. You’re going to die here like a bug. Meaninglessly. Just like your father."

Adam whispered.

And in response, Hong Seha’s gaze, filled with hatred, locked onto him.

Her eyes were bloodshot, so red it looked like the veins had burst.

Adam swallowed hard as he saw that.

Even though she was a girl he could easily kill with a squeeze of his hand—he was overwhelmed.

In that fleeting moment.

Just a few seconds.

Adam hesitated, caught in Hong Seha’s intensity.

"You’ve gotten pretty cocky, Adam."

"!!"

A familiar voice rang out.

And then—someone grabbed Adam’s wrist, the one holding Seha’s neck—

Crunch.

And snapped it, just like that.

"Urgh!!"

Even with regenerative powers, that didn’t mean pain disappeared.

Yanking his limp right arm back, Adam hurriedly leapt away, staring at the girl who had grabbed his wrist.

"Jin Yeonseo."

"Yeah. Nice to see you—well, not really. We’ve already met so many times under different faces, haven’t we?"

With a lively voice, Jin Yeonseo smiled brightly at Adam.

"Don’t treat my precious assistant so roughly, okay?"

One step—slowly, she stepped toward Adam.

"That really pisses me off."

And so, with Adam and Jin Yeonseo facing off—Episode 8 came to an end.

Effectively, the second half of Mine had begun.

As the episode ended, sighs finally escaped from those around them.

As if they had forgotten to breathe this whole time.

"Wow, I seriously thought my eyes were gonna fall out."

"That was her, right? ...That performance just now?"

Whispers floated around as the drama club members recalled the scene they’d just watched—and turned to look at Sehee sitting behind them.

And also at Seoyeon, sitting beside her.

Among them were Kim Hyeri and Min Ara as well.

They had thought they had some talent, but that performance had utterly overwhelmed them.

Just like Adam had been, in the drama.

"...What did you think?"

It was, she believed, one of her best scenes.

Though she would appear again later, for Hong Seha, this moment was the climax.

Because after this, Hong Seha ends up hospitalized.

So Sehee gave it her all.

Just like Seoyeon had.

She desperately hoped her acting had reached people’s hearts.

To that careful question from Jo Sehee—

Seoyeon, perhaps burdened by the stares of others, leaned in close to Sehee’s ear and covered her mouth with her palm so no one else could hear.

"You were dazzling."

For Sehee, who always described acting as starlight—there was no higher compliment.

It made her happy—

And then—

“Huh?”

It was only a second later that Sehee fully processed what Seoyeon had said, and she blinked at her blankly.

For some reason, it felt shorter than usual—like Seoyeon had used fewer words.

Maybe Seoyeon noticed her look.

Because she smiled brightly and said:

"Congratulations, Sehee."

For overcoming her slump.

At those words—

"...H-hmph."

Sehee quickly turned her head and covered her mouth with the back of her hand.

For some reason—

She felt really embarrassed.