Chapter 5: The Price of a Voice

‘This part repeats a similar pitch and duration, so it sounds dull—better tweak it a bit.
And here, if I layer in a faint sense of looking down on the other person, it’ll highlight the inferiority that comes later….’

Seon-yul recorded the same lines over and over, listening back and critiquing himself.

Most people, when they repeat the same performance too many times, fail to notice its flaws and end up reinforcing the same verbal habits.

But even after countless repetitions, he managed to produce subtly different takes each time.

He even calculated how many variations might arise if his scene partner responded with a different nuance.

Despite calculating everything so thoroughly, he never fell behind emotionally.

When he acted, he gave off the aura of becoming an entirely different person.
Immersion was one of Seon-yul’s innate talents.

The peers who had spent their days with him during their time as contracted voice actors used to say that standing next to Seon-yul made them painfully aware of how ordinary they themselves were.

At the same time, determined not to lose to him, they practiced with fire in their eyes—so much so that YBS’s 14th class earned the nickname “the golden generation.”

But it had been a long time since he’d drifted apart from those once-close peers.

After he’d been firmly blacklisted by those higher up, they had all put distance between themselves and him.

At present, the only people from the industry Seon-yul stayed in contact with were PD Jeong, who had taught him during his trainee days, and voice actor Seo Tae-gyeong.

“Let’s stop here for this scene first… and next is…”

Acting really was fun.
Narration was nice too, but what Seon-yul loved most was dramatic acting.

He felt exhilaration in the process of analyzing and creating a character from the ground up.
With a brightened expression, he scrolled rapidly through the script and moved on to the next scene featuring “Cain.”

Bzzz.

At that moment, his phone vibrated.
It was a call from the main number of CoriAudio, the audio drama production company.
Seon-yul removed the earphones connected to the microphone and answered.

“Hello, this is Kang Seon-yul.”

– Um, Voice Actor Kang Seon-yul…
– I’m really sorry to suddenly say this, but… there’s been an issue with the casting…

The apologetic voice on the other end sounded like a junior staff member.
After stumbling through the explanation and finishing with difficulty, the caller ended the call while gauging Seon-yul’s silent reaction.
Even after the brief call ended, Seon-yul stood frozen with the phone still pressed to his ear.
A hollow laugh escaped his lips.

“Ha.”

Pale-faced, Seon-yul bit down hard on his lower lip and dragged the script—now filled with messy scribbles on the tablet screen—into the trash folder.

It was a futile farewell to “Cain,” a character who never even got the chance to step out into the world.

********

A week passed.

Perhaps because the job market had frozen over, finding part-time work was like plucking a star from the sky.
After being cut from the audio drama, not a single voice acting job came his way.

His mother called twice more, her voice tinged with subtle expectations for money.

In desperation, Seon-yul took a day labor job at a logistics warehouse, but while carrying heavy boxes, he twisted his ankle and strained the ligament.

He endured the pain and went back to the warehouse the next day, only to overdo it—his ankle swelling badly as a result.

Cornered at last, the choice Seon-yul made was…

“What, ten thousand won per page?
Are they insane?”

Freelancer Monster.
FrMon.

[I clearly stated 100,000 won for 600 characters including spaces, at 12pt font size.]

Seon-yul sent the message with his irritation barely concealed.
Not long after, a reply came back.

[HappyTurtle991: I read it, and it didn’t even take ten minutes per page?
Sitting down doing nothing, how much are you even trying to earn lol]

This bastard…!
Is you reading it the same as me reading it?
What, sitting around earning money?
Seon-yul swallowed the curse rising to his throat and blocked the seller who was aggressively haggling the price down.

He’d already lost count of how many troublesome clients he’d dealt with.
After registering as a seller on FrMon, he’d received several inquiries over two days—but not a single person agreed to the listed price.
When he clarified that the price included spaces, one buyer even sent a script “withoutevenspacesatalllikethis.”
When Seon-yul manually spaced everything out, the character count increased by a whopping 1,250 characters.
When he recalculated the price accordingly, the buyer vanished without a word.

“…Are my samples really that bad?”

To earn money on FrMon, Seon-yul had to hide the title of being a YBS publicly recruited voice actor.
He created recording samples that were far below his usual standard, yet far better than an amateur’s.
Even though no one would recognize him as a popular voice actor, deliberately lowering his own skill made his face burn with shame.
When he hid his real name and pressed the button to register under the nickname “Mike,” his nose stung.
Despite all the misfortune that had piled up, he hadn’t shed a single tear—yet degrading his own worth made him feel like crying.
Seon-yul endured the humiliation while looking at the family photo on his phone’s lock screen.

“No… this should be fine.”

He listened to the uploaded samples again.
Though he’d intentionally recorded them in a plain tone, his fundamental skill still shone through.
The price was also set similarly to others producing comparable quality.
So why was he only getting messages from problem clients?
For someone so confident in his abilities, Seon-yul’s shoulders drooped heavily.

[★New Seller Benefit: 50% OFF★
Daily Premium Ad Slot 39,800 won → 19,900 won!

– Exclusive benefit for sellers within 7 days of registration
– Your profile will be displayed on the main page for 24 hours
– Top exposure guaranteed up to 3 times]

As he sat there discouraged, a popup ad caught his eye.
New seller benefit…
As if possessed, he clicked the ad.
Reading through the fine print carefully, Seon-yul realized the reason he wasn’t getting work wasn’t his skill—it was his lack of exposure.
To rank higher, you either had to buy ads or accumulate reviews.

New sellers like him, buried on the very last pages, set their prices at passion-pay levels far below their actual value.

Trying to charge the same as sellers with hundreds of reviews when he had none was the real problem.

From a buyer’s perspective, of course they’d try to haggle with someone unverified.

On top of that, buyers who scrolled all the way to the back pages were there specifically to hire voice actors as cheaply as possible.

‘I don’t want to cut the price any more than this.’

No matter how desperate he was, passion pay was something his pride wouldn’t allow.
Groaning as he thought of his nearly empty bank account, Seon-yul finally paid for the new seller promotion.
19,900 won.
It wasn’t a small amount, but it was something he could make back if even one job came in.
Since he couldn’t lower the price, he had to push his profile to the top.

Ding.

[SavorySeaweed123: Could you do it in a normal-person tone like sample #3?]

[SavorySeaweed123: Script.pdf]

[SavorySeaweed123: It’s urgent—need it by today.]

Less than an hour after activating the ad, an inquiry came in.
Seon-yul opened the script with a flushed face.
It explained how to use a massage machine and was about 1,400 characters long.
When Seon-yul quoted a price of 230,000 won, the buyer paid without hesitation.
So top exposure really did mean fewer problem clients.
Even after the platform took its 30% cut, he’d be left with 160,000 won.
Seon-yul immediately turned on the microphone and began recording—exactly like sample #3, as requested.

[SavorySeaweed123: Uh… this sounds too much like a regular person;;]

[SavorySeaweed123: Can you make it sound a bit more like a voice actor?]

[SavorySeaweed123: Right now it feels no different from me recording it myself lol
Please make it more engaging.]

After sending the completed file, the buyer expressed dissatisfaction.
Since one round of revisions was free, Seon-yul readily accepted the feedback and rerecorded it.

[SavorySeaweed123: Now it feels too forced. It’s clear and catchy, but too voice-actor-ish;; Make it more natural.]

[SavorySeaweed123: Can you do something between sample #3 and sample #1?]

[SavorySeaweed123: Actually, sample #2 seems okay too. Mix 1, 2, and 3 appropriately.]

[SavorySeaweed123: Or like this ad (video link).]

Seon-yul was left speechless by the absurd feedback.
Samples #1, #2, and #3 all had completely different moods.
And the voice in the ad the buyer sent was deep and imposing, like a general in a historical drama—far from “natural.”
The four tones the buyer requested sat at opposite extremes, impossible to blend together.
Unable to figure out what the buyer actually wanted, Seon-yul grew increasingly confused.

“Is this… what feedback from regular people is like?”

Because Seon-yul’s trainee period had been short, he’d never worked as an amateur voice actor.
In other words, he’d only ever received professional feedback.
Even when clients sat in on recordings, the PD would always organize their comments into something clear and actionable.
Faced with a situation like this, it was only natural that he felt lost.
With no clear answer, Seon-yul recorded four additional versions exactly as requested and sent them over.

[Mix of Sample 3 & 1.mp3]

[Like Sample 2.mp3]

[Mix of Samples 1, 2, and 3.mp3]

[Like the You×Tube Ad.mp3]