*Dark Reincarnation Fantasy*—an anime adaptation of a well-received light novel. The original had a solid reputation and a decent fanbase. With veteran investor Soni on the production committee, it was clear from the start this wasn't going to be some low-budget filler show.
Word was, the novel's author used to be a pro dungeon master for tabletop games. Wild imagination, top-tier storytelling—the series was considered a prime example of stat-heavy alternate-world fiction.
As a dedicated voice actor, you *should* buy the book, read it overnight, and study every line until you breathe the character.
As a *pragmatic* voice actor, Yin Ze opted for the more efficient (and cost-effective) route: freeloading.
The first five volumes were available digitally online. His character, "Knight Bro," didn't even survive past Chapter 2 of Volume 1—gloriously dying off before reaching any paywalled content. He was the first named character to bite the dust.
Still, he took the role seriously. To avoid mic rustle, he wore soft cotton thermals. He'd already memorized all of Episode 1's lines so he could set up a teleprompter using Life Recital and follow the cues perfectly.
Around 8:27 a.m., Yin Ze found himself squished against the train window, his cheek pressed to the icy glass as he tried to enjoy the chilly, gray Tokyo skyline of March.
He didn't mind the crowd—what bothered him was how closely *all-male* the crowd was. His hand was stuck between two large gentlemen's behinds, unable to move, trapped in a triangle of awkward, sweaty silence.
Damn it! he thought. *If only I were in the women-only car, getting shoved around and crushed in a sea of floral-scented bliss…* The three men exchanged silently desperate glances.
When he finally broke free of the tide of commuters, he wiped the sweat off his brow and gulped in a breath of fresh air.
Seriously, how could Tokyo—tiny as it was—be so packed? It was like everyone had declared a Warring States campaign to storm the capital. *If you're all here, who's left to develop the countryside?*
Sighing over the modern worker's obsession with status and success, Yin Ze walked to the recording studio.
After getting accepted into Tokyo U, the principal had showered him with praise and a hefty reward, as though Yin Ze had personally cured his baldness. That money let him finally afford his own apartment and proper meals—no more instant noodles.
Now it was just about keeping a steady income and saving up.
*Wait a minute... I don't have to get married, no one's pressuring me to settle down, I don't need a mortgage or a car loan, and I'm not paying off a house for the next twenty years?!*
The epiphany hit him like a spotlight. As the elevator lit his face with heavenly brilliance, Yin Ze ascended—spiritually. He walked out of the lift brimming with optimism, glowing with newfound hope.
By the fire exit, he spotted a familiar face—his old sound director, Nagasaki Yukikusa, enjoying a smoke. The man looked like he'd gained a few pounds over the holidays.
"Well, if it isn't Nagasaki-san! Happy New Year!"
"Yo, newbie. You're early. Recording doesn't start until ten," the director said, surprised.
"Figured I'd get a feel for the set," Yin Ze replied.
"Fair enough. You had breakfast?"
"Two rice balls."
"There's heating in the lounge and some snacks too. Go chill in there. One of the other voice actors got here early, so you two can warm up together. Man, I miss being young… waking up early just makes me want to go back to bed."
*Someone's here even earlier than me?* Yin Ze thought. Probably someone like Matsuoka—those all-in, no-breaks, high-voltage grind types.
He imagined a fellow rookie, fighting fate and believing hard work always paid off.
He grabbed three canned coffees from a vending machine—one for the director, one for himself, and one as a peace offering for his fellow early bird.
The lounge door was ajar. He could hear the morning news playing on a small TV inside.
He stepped in. Past the rising steam of fresh tea and a bowl of rice crackers on a brown square table, his eyes landed on a girl seated on the sofa, quietly reading her script. She wore a fluffy white shawl, her head slightly bowed, long black hair cascading over the pages. Her lashes trembled as her eyes moved along the text.
It was a warm, tranquil scene—like hot milk on a winter night, or the moon in a Natsume Sōseki novel, or the breeze sweeping over golden wheatfields at dusk.
*Didn't expect a girl,* Yin Ze blinked.
The sound of footsteps broke her focus. She lifted her head, revealing a pair of clear, youthful eyes.
"Morning. I'm here for the recording too," Yin Ze said with a smile, holding out a can of coffee. "Hope you don't mind something bitter this early?"
"Oh… good morning. I'm Hidaka Rina from Ōsawa Office." She stood and accepted the coffee.
"I'm Takizawa Satoru, from IM. Nice to meet you."
They exchanged polite handshakes.
"Looking forward to working with you today," Hidaka said formally.
"Haha, it's just one episode for me—I'll be dead before the credits roll," Yin Ze chuckled. "Please, have a seat."
She hadn't expected such a cheerful reply and seemed briefly thrown off, then quietly sat back down and picked up her script again.
"When did you get here?" Yin Ze asked, eyeing the snacks. "Mind if I have a cookie?"
"Around eight." She pushed the cookie bag toward him. "I made those myself. If you don't mind homemade…"
"They're delicious—rich and buttery. You've got real talent," he said, flashing a thumbs-up.
"…Thank you." Hidaka was surprised by his openness. "You seem really happy. Did something good happen?"
"Not really. I just realized I won't need to buy a house or car anymore," he replied softly.
It was a confusing comment, but Hidaka kept her polite smile and nodded. "I see."
"I thought I'd be the first one here, honestly. You beat me by half an hour."
"Today's recording is really important. I didn't want to disappoint my manager or slow anyone down. I was nervous, so getting here early helped calm me down."
"Totally get that. We're in the same boat—rookies worried about messing up, afraid of the veterans. But hey, newbies deserve a little patience too. We only have a few lines anyway—no need to be terrified." Yin Ze gave her a pep talk.
"Thanks for the encouragement," Hidaka replied, her expression slightly odd.
"But you're right, being prepared helps build confidence," Yin Ze said, flipping open his script.
Hidaka snuck a glance at his pristine, factory-fresh script, then looked down at her own—covered in colorful notes and carefully folded tabs.
"Takizawa-kun, you seem very dedicated too," she said politely.
"Oh, you know, doing my best," he replied modestly.
Hidaka smiled weakly and returned her focus to the script, deciding not to engage further with this slightly frivolous-seeming guy.
Yin Ze, meanwhile, looked serious as he opened the script—only to quietly boot up Life Recital and start watching reruns of *My Own Swordsman*.
The lounge returned to its peaceful state, with only the voice of the morning news anchor murmuring in the background, just as it had been before he arrived.