Chapter 75 Act [2]
His stoic expression showed cracks and his lips gently pulled up.
At that moment, the atmosphere in the room changed. It was as if an entirely different person had appeared.
Julien's once cold and serious demeanor had vanished, replaced by a deranged and mad persona.
"W-what are you doing....!?"
A random line was thrown by one of the judges. It was to signify the start of the scenario.
"...."
Julien lowered his head and gazed beneath.
The image of a woman appeared in his mind. One that lay on the floor panicking. He soon replaced her image with that of the man in the past.
His first kill.
".....The foundation of all masterpieces is a great start."
The words came smoothly out of his mouth. They came out evenly, and calmly. However, mixed with the calmness was a certain hint of madness. It was subtly hidden, only discernable by the subtle trembling of his voice towards certain words.
It was such subtlety that brought Olga out of her indifference. She felt the hairs on her hand bristle upright as goosebumps ran down her body.
'The subtle textures of his expressions and tone...'
For the first time in her long career, Olga felt uncomfortable. The more she looked, the more she found herself feeling like she was standing before Azarias.
A psychopath who thirsted for the death of his victims.
'Just... Why am I feeling this way?'
Olga wasn't the only one who felt like this. It was the same for the other judges who shifted and adjusted their postures continuously.
They too were uncomfortable by the man that stood at the center of the stage.
And yet...
None of them could take their eyes away from him.
"All artists crave to create their own masterpieces. I'm no different."
Julien scanned the room, his gaze lingering on the judges, his shifting expression revealing the growing madness in his eyes.
His chest heaved up unevenly, and the sound of his breathing took over the air that was swallowed up by the silence that ensued.
"I want to make a masterpiece. A piece that will be synonymous with my name."
He continued to address the judges.
His tone started to change, slowly becoming tenser and more hoarse. Gradually, his smile became more intense.
"....And so, the first brushstroke of this masterpiece shall be none other than your life itself."
Tak—
The wood creaked under his steps as he moved forward.
He appeared to head for the judges, his eyes never leaving them. Under his intense gaze, a cold chill went past their bodies.
Their instincts told them to run.
That they were currently dealing with a psychopath.
However, their bodies refused to listen. They continued to stare as he took another step.
Olga sat on her seat frozen. The theater had long disappeared from her vision. An environment had already started to form in her mind.
A medium-sized room that belonged to a well-off-noble and was decorated neatly with all the right furniture.
A figure lay sprawled on the ground. Her expression was one filled with horror. She seemed to want to run, but her body refused to listen.
All she could do was stare up towards the man who slowly bent over to grip her throat.
The madness in his gaze intensified as his expressions underwent several changes.
A fleeting smile of excitement would flicker, only to be swallowed by the engulfing madness that danced in his eyes. Rationality struggled to hold its ground amidst the tumultuous storm within him, as subtle hints of guilt seeped through the wincing of his features.
Olga swallowed her saliva.
"He..."
Had flawlessly captured the essence of the Azarias character she had penned.
A low scream echoed. One that was quickly suppressed by a hand. The furniture scattered, and legs and arms flayed in the air.
But it was all futile.
Under the madness. His madness. All she could do was watch with horrified eyes as her life slowly came to an end.
A heart-wrenching scene.
One that inevitably ended with death.
"Haa... Haaa..."
Azarias's heavy breaths echoed as he stared at his hand, feeling the mix of guilt, madness, and excitement after his first kill. It was perfectly embodied in that moment.
The scene deeply carved itself into the minds of the four judges who remained silent the entire time.
"....I'm done."
A low and cool voice broke them out of their daze. The madness that lingered in his eyes, the sense of joy from the kill, and the guilt had all vanished.
Once again, his expression returned to that of a blank piece of paper.
The performance ended there.
Olga and the other judges remained seated in their seats at a loss for words. The performance had left them all stunned.
From the wide range of emotions he displayed to the expressions he made to mirror them...
It was a flawless performance. There was no denying it, and Olga found herself licking her parched lips.
"What is your name?"
She found herself asking for the name of the cadet.
Tilting his head, the cadet turned his head to meet her gaze. Just as he entered, his expression hardly showed any changes. Taking her in for a brief moment, he eventually answered.
"Julien."
"Julien..."
The name rolled well on her tongue.
Standing up from her seat, she carefully made her way toward him, stopping only when she was a few feet away from him. Getting a closer look at him and liking what she was seeing, she eventually nodded her head.
The more she looked at him, the more she felt like she was looking at Azarias.
'It's as if he's standing right before me... How can someone portray the essence of what I wanted so well? It's gone beyond just copying the character. It's as if he became the character itself...'
If there was one problem that she had with the performance, it was that...
'It's too short.'
It almost felt like a pity for such a great character to only have a few scenes.
The problem was that the script was already perfect as it was in her mind. There was no way she could extend his role, right...?
"Hmm "
Her brows furrowed as she once again turned to look at Julien.
Slowly, she extended her hand towards him and said.
"Congratulations on making the cut. I'll sign your name up for the play. For now, I will take some time to make some adjustments to the script. I will send you the finalized version by tomorrow."
***
"Please come this way. There are a lot of things that need moving."
Aoife, Leon, Evelyn, and several other cadets were brought into the Leoni Hall where they were immediately put to work.
Because their applications had been rejected, they had
"Make sure you line the lights properly."
"Cadet please be careful with that. It's very expensive. You will be held liable for the damage."
The situation was chaotic, but Aoife didn't bother and followed the instructions diligently.
'....I didn't get the role.'
Her mind was still thinking about the role she failed to get.
"How?"
Realistically speaking, she was the most deserving of the role. Not only was she an extremely well-known figure given her family name, but she was also well-acquainted with most of the members attending.
She knew their likes and dislikes.
There was no one more perfect than her to tend to their needs.
So why...?
Why didn't she get selected?
However, Aoife wasn't left discouraged for long. Looking around, she realized that this was another opportunity for her.
'If I can get into the play then I can get extra credits...'
Her acting was quite good. Having participated in several plays in the past, she was somewhat confident in her skills.
Furthermore, she was quite familiar with the members of the collective.
If all went well, then there was a chance of her getting selected.
Aoife was so immersed in her thoughts that she didn't realize someone was standing in front of her.
"Ah, careful!"
A voice warned her in the distance, sounded like Evelyn's, and before she knew it, she bumped into something hard.
Bang—!
Despite her fast reflexes, Aoife was unable to completely avoid hitting whatever was in front of her and fell on her butt.
"Uh..!"
Thankfully, she was able to keep the items on her from hitting the ground.
But that came at the expense of herself.
'....That hurt.'
Feeling the pain on her butt, Aoife tried her best to not show it on her face. She prepared to raise her head to apologize, but when she did, her expression froze.
A figure stood before her.
Sporting the same unchanging expression of his, he looked down on her.
Aoife half-expected him to say something along the lines of, 'What were you doing?' or something like 'Whatch where you're going', but contrary to her expectations he, extended her hand towards her.
"Uh...?"
The sight was a shocking one for her.
'He's trying to help me?'
She almost couldn't believe it.
And yet, staring at the hand, the unbelievable sight was unfolding before her eyes.
Still...
"I can help myself up."
Aoife rejected the offer and helped herself up. It wasn't as though she didn't appreciate the gesture, but she felt uncomfortable with the idea of touching another man's hand.
"...I appreciate the—"
"No. You're misunderstanding my intentions."
Her words were cut by his cool voice.
Turning around, she saw him reach down for a piece of paper that had fallen down on the ground.
Picking it up, he briefly glanced at her.
".....I just wanted this."
"Ah, uh..."
Weird sounds came out of her mouth all of a sudden as her eyes lingered over the paper in his hand.
"...Eh?"
For the first time in her life, Aoife felt her face burn.
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