Chapter 6: A Voice That Tightens the Noose

The buyer, who had received all four versions, replied only after quite some time had passed.

[ SavorySeaweed123: LOL; the last one’s a bit much; I’ll just use the first one. That was the best. Thanks^^ ]

“Hah.”

The hours he’d poured into recording suddenly felt hollow, but at least it was finally over.
With a noticeably lighter expression, Seon-yul asked the buyer about the additional fee for any further revisions beyond the one free edit.

[ SavorySeaweed123: What?? An extra fee??;; If you’d told me beforehand, I wouldn’t have orderedㅡㅡ
Anyway, I already decided to use the first recording lol The rest are all separate thing lol And you want extra money?? ]

[ SavorySeaweed123: lol you’re seriously inflexible. Don’t do business like that. Anyway, good luck. ]

Apparently offended by the mention of an additional charge, the buyer lumped together and insulted all the recordings Seon-yul had spent hours on before disappearing.

Flustered, Seon-yul sent several follow-up messages, but no reply ever came.

Even though the additional fees were clearly written on the sales page, perhaps the buyer had assumed they were free since Seon-yul hadn’t mentioned them before recording.

Seon-yul admitted it was his own mistake.

“Wow… so that’s finally one job done.”

Nothing in this world was easy after all.

He hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to communicate directly with ordinary clients without a producer acting as a buffer.

Still, if he could get even one request per day starting from this first job, things might ease up for a while.

Seon-yul checked his sales history.

[ SavorySeaweed123’s purchase has been confirmed. ]

“Huh? It’s confirmed already.”

On FrMon, once the buyer pressed the purchase confirmation button, payment could be settled immediately—and even if they didn’t, it would be automatically confirmed after three days.

Since the last exchange had ended on such a sour note, Seon-yul had expected the confirmation to be delayed.

The quick confirmation was unexpected.

After withdrawing the amount minus the 30% platform fee into his bank account, Seon-yul stretched and flopped down onto the bed to wait for the next request.

His right ankle, wrapped in a half-cast, throbbed painfully.

Because he’d worked with damaged ligaments, he needed to rest for two full weeks.

After that, he’d either return to the logistics center or look for another part-time job.

After all, nothing good would come from people finding out that a voice actor from the association was working on FrMon……

[ SavorySeaweed123 has left a review. ]

At that moment, a FrMon app notification popped up on his phone.
Thinking it might be another recording request, Seon-yul checked it—only for his expression to slowly harden.

[ ★☆☆☆☆ (1 star)

Failed to properly understand the direction the client wanted and recorded however he pleased.

The result itself wasn’t bad, but asking for more money at the end left a bad taste.

It already feels more expensive than other sellers anyway…ㅋ
No intention of repurchasing. ]

“…Son of a—.”

He had to be cursed.
There was no other explanation for how thoroughly his life had gotten tangled.

**********

‘S-Seung-ju… I’ll do whatever you say. Please, please spare me…!’

That dream again.
In the dream, Seung-ju looked down at the other person without a shred of emotion.

The one clinging to the railing was a classmate he’d known long ago, someone once on equal footing with him.

Seung-ju knew the man’s grip was weakening, yet he took no action.

Suddenly, he remembered catching dragonflies with his mother when he was young.

As he plucked off their wings one by one, she had spoken.

Seung-ju, you pulled off all its wings, so now the dragonfly can’t fly.
Her eyes back then had looked unbearably sad.

‘f*ck, I said I’m sorry! I—I’m really going to fall! Ugh—Mom! Dad!’

What happens if a dragonfly can’t fly?
When Seung-ju asked, his mother answered bitterly.

It won’t be able to return to the one it loves… and it will die.

Seung-ju had asked back innocently.

Like you, Mom?

In the end, his mother broke down crying.
Seung-ju, I wish… I wish you wouldn’t grow up to resemble him.

Her plea stabbed painfully into his chest.

The young Seung-ju had thrown his arms around her and sobbed.

Mom, I hate Dad.

I’ll never become like him. Never.

‘Aaaah!’

His eyes met those of the person who’d lost his grip on the railing.

Seung-ju thought he looked like a dragonfly stripped of its wings.

How it would end was already foretold.
Soon after, a heavy thud echoed—and everything went black.

‘You saw it too, didn’t you? He’s different from the other kids. He’s not normal!’

‘Sis, calm down. He’s still a child. How he turns out depends on how he’s raised!’

‘Useless bastard. How long are you going to cling to that woman’s ghost?’

‘Still… he’s your son. I’ll take care of him. Honey.’

Seung-ju clamped his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut.
I’m sorry. I was wrong. Please forgive me just once.

I’ll never do it again.
So please… please let me wake up from this nightmare.

Terrified that he’d be trapped here forever, he begged, and begged, and begged again.

“Gasp—!”

Seung-ju jolted awake with a strangled sound, drenched in cold sweat.

His heart pounded as if it might burst from his chest, and sharp voices rang in his ears.

I don’t want to hear them.

With trembling hands, Seung-ju groped around by his bedside and grabbed his headphones.

The moment he put them on and pressed play, a low, gentle male voice flowed out, sweeping away the lingering echoes in his ears.

[ …‘It is not pain that is holding onto you. It is you who are holding onto the pain.’
An obsession with negative emotions destroys the self.

Once you collapse, it becomes difficult to recover.
Everyone struggles in their own way to stand back up, but some people remain frozen in their fallen state.

Like being stuck in tidal flats, the more they struggle, the deeper they sink.
When even the breath they barely manage to draw is choked off, every second becomes agony.
Eventually, they grow numb—no longer even aware of the pain. ]

His pounding heart slowly settled.

[ One day, a friend asked me if I’d eaten.
It was a phrase Koreans casually use, but I suddenly realized I hadn’t eaten properly in days.
The next day, my friend asked again if I’d eaten—this time even asking what I’d had.
I didn’t want to worry them by telling the truth, but I didn’t want to lie either, so from that day on, I made sure to eat at least something simple.
It was just a single sentence anyone could say, yet rarely does—but it was enough for my head to peek out of the heavy mud that had been suffocating me. ]

Seung-ju’s face twisted as he clutched the thick blanket tightly.
No one had ever reached out a hand to him for so long that he couldn’t truly relate.

[ It doesn’t have to be grand.
Even something this small can make us flinch.
And once we flinch, that movement—like the flap of a butterfly’s wings—can grow into a storm.
Even on days when negative emotions try to drag you down again, someone who has stood up once has the strength to stand up a second time… and a third.
I hope you remember the power of this smallness. ]

Seung-ju wanted to ask his mother, who had long since left this world.
How much longer do I have to endure?
I can’t hold on anymore.
I’m lonely.
I’m so lonely……

[ …Did you eat? ]

“No…….”

Seung-ju murmured as if speaking directly to the voice.

[ This has been <One Line from Today’s Book>, narrated by Kang Seon-yul. ]

As always, the program ended with the voice actor introducing himself.
Kang Seon-yul.
This was Kang Seon-yul…….

Seung-ju blankly repeated the name with all the strength drained from his face, then rewound the audio and pressed play again.

The warm, gentle voice made him feel held—for just a moment, less alone—but he knew it was an illusion.

After all, the voice actor was merely reading words from a book.

‘Still…….’

Seung-ju had bought the original book and read it himself, and he never missed the ten-minute radio segment <One Line from Today’s Book>.

It seemed there had been a regular host before, because Kang Seon-yul didn’t appear again after that.

Unable to let go, Seung-ju stitched together that mere ten-minute file again and again until it became five hours long.

Only when he sealed his ears with Seon-yul’s voice and wrapped himself tightly in his blanket from head to toe did the tension finally drain from his body.

‘Just let me hear Kang Seon-yul’s voice….’

The only way to escape the worsening auditory hallucinations was to listen to that voice.

If only he could hear it for longer…….

What kind of person was he?

Kang Seon-yul.
Kang Seon-yul.
Kang Seon-yul……

Seung-ju grew curious about who Kang Seon-yul really was.

But no matter how much he searched online, all he could find was that Seon-yul was a voice actor from YBS’s 14th class, specializing in monster roles.

In search of more recordings, Seung-ju even watched children’s animations aired on YBS.

He recognized the voice instantly—but the only lines Seon-yul ever had were screams like, “Kraaagh!”, “Kwoooong!”, and “Kyaaah!”.