Chapter 40: Dumbbell Wall Slam 2.0

The cicadas shrieked through the surging heatwaves, and the convenience store’s glass door chimed every five minutes. Kang Jae-hoon sat curled in the dappled shade cast by a sun umbrella, his fingertips scratching the chin of a calico cat.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

"I’ve landed you two new jobs," Kim Dae-won’s voice crackled, muffled by the roar of traffic.

Kang Jae-hoon stopped petting the cat. "What?"

"Voiceover for the Jeju Island Tourism Bureau promotional video. Eight million won after taxes."

"And the other?"

"Voice for a new League of Legends hero. The pay isn't huge, but the exposure is massive."

"No acting gigs?"

The calico cat suddenly grabbed his wrist and started gnawing. He instinctively tugged its tail, then hurriedly stroked it in apology.

"Your prefix is 'vocal monster' now, not 'rookie actor.' Be there for the audition tomorrow afternoon. I’ve sent the lines to your email."

The convenience store freezer hummed. Kang Jae-hoon let out a belated, "Ah."

After hanging up, he lifted the cat by its armpits to eye level. "Being a voice actor is at least better than being an extra, right?"

The cat flicked its tail against his forehead, emitting a purr like a motorcycle engine. He leaned over and rubbed his cheek against its ears. "I'll buy you Royal Canin once I get paid."

"Meow."

The next day, 7:00 AM.

When Kang Jae-hoon woke up, the outline of Lucian’s backstory was still spread across his pillow. Kim Dae-won’s nanny van honked, the sound piercing the thin mist and startling a flock of sparrows beneath the convenience store eaves.

The glass curtain wall of Riot Games reflected the blinding sunlight, and the hero standee at the reception desk had faded from the heat. The revolving door sensors beeped, and the receptionist gave him an extra glance while verifying his identity.

The guide scanned the security gate. "Mr. Kang, please head to Studio B, Recording Room 3."

"Understood."

Two other voice actors were already in the booth. The man in the bucket hat was practicing with a gravelly vocal fry: "Shadows shall eventually bow before the light..."

The broadcast assistant opened the soundproof door to Studio 3, where the bilingual script lay neatly on the music stand.

"Let’s start with the basic lines."

"Understood."

Kang Jae-hoon stood before the pop filter and scanned the first line on the stand:

"Everyone dies one day—"

He deliberately lowered his Adam's apple, striking a subtle balance between magnetism and raspiness:

"And some people... just need a little help."

The producer pressed the talk-back button. "The breath control at the end of the phrase is spot on. Now, try the monologue from the background story."

Kang Jae-hoon flipped the page, his gaze lingering for a moment before he spoke slowly:

"The first shot is for the years we’ve lost—"

He slowed his cadence, letting the word "lost" grind between his teeth, his Adam's apple vibrating slightly with the tail of the sentence.

"The second shot... is for the love we can never reclaim."

"Please express the ultimate ability line in three different emotions."

"Understood."

The granular texture of Kang Jae-hoon’s voice caused the studio monitors to rattle with dust. The first take was cold as a death sentence; the second carried the frenzy of a gambler placing a bet; the third ended in a sudden, choked sob—when he loosened his tie and finished the roar of "For Senna," the man in the bucket hat silently put away his script.

"Now try the interactive easter egg with Senna."

"..."

Kim Dae-won crushed his third cigarette in the waiting area, watching the man in the bucket hat walk toward the elevator with his bag. Before the automatic doors closed, he heard the man mutter in a Busan dialect: "Shit, a monster."

The audition process went unexpectedly smoothly.

The recording was completed by 5:30 PM. When he signed the non-disclosure agreement, the setting sun had already dyed the floor-to-ceiling windows amber.

Kim Dae-won was still rambling as he backed out of the parking spot: "Flight to Jeju tomorrow morning. The script is in your inbox; you have to memorize it tonight."

"Got it."

...

When Lee Sung-kyung came home carrying her gym bag, Kang Jae-hoon was stuffing toiletries into the lining of his suitcase.

"Running away?"

"Ah—Sung-kyung, you're back."

Kang Jae-hoon looked up and met her gaze as she scanned his luggage.

"I have to go to Jeju Island for a two-day business trip. A promotional voiceover."

Lee Sung-kyung kicked aside a shirt folded into a messy lump. "Where did you put the sunscreen?"

"This one is recorded indoors."

"You said the same thing when you filmed 'Ode to My Father,' that it would be in a studio."

Lee Sung-kyung suddenly scoffed. "The result was you getting so tanned that the neighbor downstairs asked if your ancestors were from Africa."

"..."

Kang Jae-hoon stared at her perfectly rounded toes for a long moment, then blurted out, "Sung-kyung-ah—"

"Speak."

"If you lick your own lips..." He tilted his head and pointed to the corner of his mouth, "...would you get poisoned?"

Lee Sung-kyung’s pupils contracted into cat-like slits, and the gym bag straps left red marks on her palms. Kang Jae-hoon belatedly remembered the dumbbell threat from that night; his survival instinct kicked in, but as he tried to chase after her, he tripped over his suitcase.

"W-wait!"

Her only response was the sound of the master bedroom door slamming against the wall.

When Lee Sung-kyung reappeared, she was holding a purple dumbbell in each hand—the very ones he had given her for her birthday.

"S-Sung-kyung-ah, these are 2.5 kilograms—"

"Shut up."

The taut lines of her legs in her yoga pants were filled with oppressive force as she approached.

"Thud!"

The dumbbell grazed Kang Jae-hoon’s earlobe and smashed into the wall, shaking the clock on the wall—he was experiencing his second "dumbbell wall-pin" in his life.

"A-actually, the color of the dumbbells really complements your yoga pants..."

"Kang. Jae. Hoon."

His gaze was glued to the muscles in her forearm, tightened by exertion.

"I mean... Sung-kyung, you look super pretty even when you're angry..."

"..."

Lee Sung-kyung’s breathing hitched for a beat when the word "pretty" landed.

She bit down on the soft flesh inside her mouth hard enough to leave a crescent-shaped mark, only realizing she had broken the skin when she tasted the metallic tang of blood. This realization made a faint red flush creep behind her ears, though it was hard to see under the warm lighting.

"Slick-tongued."

Lee Sung-kyung shoved the dumbbells into Kang Jae-hoon’s arms and turned with such force that she stirred up a breeze smelling of lavender.

His gaze followed the arc of her hair as she turned. The way she violently yanked open the bathroom cabinet sounded like a husky tearing apart a house, with the plastic drawer rollers giving a dying squeak.

Kang Jae-hoon shrank his neck instinctively as he listened to the commotion.

"What time is the flight?"

Her question came out mixed with the sound of rummaging, like she was interrogating a criminal suspect.

"Eight-ten, Gimpo Airport, Terminal 2—"

A whistling sound cut him off, and Kang Jae-hoon scrambled to catch the sunscreen tossed his way.

"It's expired."

The bathroom door slammed shut, and her blurry silhouette was cast against the frosted glass.

Kang Jae-hoon unscrewed the cap of the sunscreen; the foil seal was perfectly intact.

He checked the barcode on the bottle to see the production date—it had come off the line just two weeks ago.

The roar of the shower started, and steaming vapor began to coat the frosted glass.

As he knelt there packing his suitcase, he froze, then belatedly called out toward the bathroom:

"Actually, Sung-kyung, you—"

The roar of the high-pressure showerhead completely swallowed the second half of his sentence.

Lee Sung-kyung’s shadow on the glass blurred into swaying spots of light; it was impossible to tell if it was the steam or if she was shaking her head.