NO SINGING! BECOME AN ACTOR OR DIE

Chapter 3: The MV Star's Talent 2

The audition venue was a small studio filled with ten boys of similar height, hair, and energy. Nine of them carried real potato chips (their own props), enthusiastic and cheerful, exactly as the script described.

Dirga sat quietly. Dina wasn't accompanying him. She was outside, taking a call, arranging another small deal. Only his Mother sat beside him, feeling guilty for bringing her son into this world.

A boy, having finished his silly and endearing performance, exited the audition room with a joyful shout. Dirga observed the commotion with a cold, internal silence.

Ridiculous, Dirga thought.

"I'll give them an anomaly. Sadness amidst all this cheerfulness," he murmured softly.

Queue number fifteen. His name was called. Dirga glanced at his Mother before entering the audition room.

His Mother's gaze trembled nervously, but the smile Dirga offered made her anxiety dissipate.

He stepped into the audition room. The aroma of damp carpet mixed with perfume. Facing him was a table where three adults sat—the Commercial Director, the Producer, and the Assistant—their eyes tired and vacant from the relentless stream of forced cheerfulness from the children. A cheap video camera sat on a tripod, its harsh light striking Dirga's face.

Dirga stepped forward, smiling politely. He shook hands with everyone, his touch smooth and firm, like an adult's.

"My name is Dirga, age 7. I am ready."

The Producer turned, his eyebrow slightly raised at the boy’s level of formality. "Oh, excellent, lad. Have you read the script? We just need the scene where you wheedle Dad for the last chip, alright? And be cheerful when you ask for it."

Dirga nodded. He closed his eyes briefly, activating his trained talent.

Instead of following the Director's instructions, Dirga had another option.

An emotional filter—that of a man who had lost everything he loved. When he opened his eyes, a chasm of darkness and regret was etched into that small pair of eyes.

"Ready. Roll Camera. Action!"

Dirga walked to the position marked on the floor. In Dirga's new world, this script was merely a piece of paper demanding an emotional exchange with the camera. He ignored the director's request for a cheerful tone and used his own husky voice.

He wasn't pretending to ask for a chip. He was pretending to beg for the return of his future. He missed the stage. He missed the old life he had fought tooth and nail to achieve. And the chip currently before him was merely a tool to reclaim his glory.

"Dad," he said, his voice small yet piercing. His chubby face attempted a teasing smile, but his eyes were wet with supplication.

"Dad, can Dirga have just one more, please?"

It was only one sentence. Dirga delivered the intensity of a life-or-death plea. That desire burned in his gaze, even as he stuck out his tongue in a cute, childish manner. The expression was complex: sadness attempting to appear cheerful.

The three people behind the table were speechless. The tired face of the Commercial Director shifted into shock.

"Why is this child's expression so sad when asking for a chip?" the Assistant Producer whispered to the Director.

Dirga finished the final scene, his smile dissolving into a blank expression. He had perfectly channelled the emptiness of his old soul.

"Cut," the Director said, his voice sounding tight. "Right, Dirga. That was... intriguing. But we asked for the scene to be a bit more cheerful. Why were you so sad when asking for the chip, as if you'd lost a cherished toy?"

Dirga allowed the silence to fill the room, staring at the Director.

"Dirga just really... really likes the chips," Dirga replied innocently, his voice remaining formal. "Because of that, if he doesn't get the chip, he will definitely be very sad."

Dirga felt an internal surge from his system.

[Acting Skill Analysis: B+.]

[Persona Development: High Maturity Level/Heartbreak Acting Style (Emotional Centre) – Level 1.]

[Tip: Use the Heartbreak Eyes expression for appeal.]

He knew the Director had seen something special: the contrast between a seven-year-old body and his complex soul. That was the key he needed.

The System had verified this as his main weapon. The Heartbreak Eyes were his visual cheat.

"Right then, thank you, Dirga. You can leave now," the Producer said. His face showed serious calculation.

Dirga left. His Mother approached him anxiously.

"How did it go, dear?"

"I think I'll get the part, Mum. I put everything I had into it," Dirga replied confidently.

If he failed, that Producer clearly lacked the talent to judge who was worthy of becoming a commercial star.

"That's great, little one. If that's the case, I want you to audition for a bigger role," a new voice interrupted. Dina, who had just finished her call, stood behind Dirga. "A mate of mine, who's crew on a production, just offered you a role in a feature film."

[Side Quest: Accept This Role. High Award Potential.]

Dirga's heart pounded. This was too fast. Only two hours since the first commercial audition. Real acting. Could his past luck have followed him here?

"Me... a film? Seriously, Dina?" Dirga asked. He felt dizzy from the sudden pressure.

"The title is *Silent Harbour*. It's a supporting role you'll be auditioning for. The Director is Mr. Ical. I know, Dirga. You're special." Dina gripped Dirga's shoulder tightly; there was sharp ambition in the woman's eyes. "Take it, won't you?"

Director Ical, Dirga thought.

That was the film Director who would elevate Indonesian acting to an Asian level two years from now. Dirga remembered reading the man's biography previously.

And the supporting role offered was a quicker route than a lead role to securing a Prestigious Award, allowing him to complete the mission swiftly. After that, becoming a Singer would no longer be a mere fantasy.

This was the best news he had heard so far.

"Yes, I'll take the script," Dirga answered firmly.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his lower back. A blue window flashed angrily, which Dirga recognised as a sudden punishment.

[VIOLATION DETECTED.]

What? I haven't even sung today.

The text window replied.

[System Urges Focus: Professional Status. Once You Have Found Your Main Path, Do Not Get Stuck on Your Obsession.]

[PUNISHMENT: Your entire savings from the commercial salary will be forfeited. TOTAL Penalty: 5,000,000 Rupiah.]

Dirga's heart plummeted upon reading the system's text. The cursed system already forbade him from singing. And now, he wasn't even allowed to think about or imagine music?

"Bastard," Dirga choked out, barely audible.

"What is it, Dirga? Why are you so startled?" Dina asked, concerned.

Dirga regulated his breathing, his body chilled by the sudden panic and anxiety over the money lost to the petty system. He had to pretend to be fine, no matter what, to save his family's savings, for Anya's safety, for his new life.

Dirga shook his head quickly to conceal his distress.

"No, I think there's an ant here. Ugh, my leg was bitten and it feels itchy." Dirga replied, making an excuse to avoid detection. He even pretended to scratch his leg, which wasn't itchy at all.

Dirga realised the freedom he had hoped for after completing the system was an illusion. He had better just focus on this mission. Film. Focus on film. Don't touch music.

[IMPORTANT. WARNING. PUNISHMENT IN PROGRESS. FOCUS FAILED. Accumulation Penalty 1: Your PERSONAL money is forfeited, Not Your Family's Wealth (For this time).]

Pain slammed into his body, forcing his head down, as if he had just been hit by a spiritual punch from a mystic entity.

You BASTARD system!!

Dirga dug his fingernails into the folds of his clothing. He raised his gaze to Dina, his determination now cold as steel.

"Where's the script? Let's start now," he said in a very quiet and serious voice, preparing to fight again.