The Heroines Are After My Fortune

33 – Grind the Engineers, They Taste Best

The more you grind the underlings, the better the results.

This was the life philosophy Aiden Loen had learned while serving as squad leader in the military. With this conviction, he was ruthlessly pushing the subordinates under his thumb.

And David Blackwell, one of this world’s male leads, was no exception.

“David, lift me up. I’ll get the shot from an aerial view.”

“For that last scene, switching to a fire spirit will be better. Take a quick break then we’ll go in.”

“For the final chase, the earth spirit splitting the ground with a bone-chilling effect is the key. Step it up a little.”

It was David who was truly dying on the filming set.

Unlike the others, who only strained their bodies, he had to work while draining his magic. There were tasks a mage could manage to a degree, but Aiden figured he could do them better than any middling mage on his own, and so avoided any extra expense.

‘…I’m going insane.’

He was here for the sake of his connection with Elena, but he hadn’t known it would be this grueling.

The reason he endured was because of the carrots that were conveniently offered whenever his urge to quit rose.

“You look tired, want to eat something I brought?”

Director Starfield didn’t mix with the actors or crew, instead unpacking his lunch to eat alone, he offered David a sandwich, but David, ever the noble heir, politely refused, his palate accustomed to finer fare.

“Ah, I appreciate the thought.”

“Is that so, what a shame. My sister’s cooking is rather good.”

“…Suddenly I’m starving. I’ll take one.”

Learning Elena had made it, David snatched it up immediately.

From then on, he always ate a little whenever Director Starfield had his lunch. Since Elena had made it, he found even commoner food tastier than any fine cuisine.

‘…That’s our head chef’s cooking.’

But it wasn’t because Elena had made it, it was because it was ‘genuinely delicious’ food made by the Roen family’s chef. From the moment Aiden had taken over from his father, he had absolutely forbade his sister from entering the kitchen, so ‘Elena’s food’ as such couldn’t possibly exist in the Empire.

“You look worn out these days, If it’s too hard I’ll find a replacement, you can drop out.”

“What are you saying? Did you think I, who lived on the rough southern coast, would get tired already?”

Anyway, invigorated by the ‘Elena’s food’ that was no different than saltwater, David diligently cooperated with the filming again. He’d endured this far, the thought of quitting now, would just be unfair. He cooperated with Aiden, who was acting like a fool in a mask while enduring hardship himself, yet he also had great respect for Aiden’s abilities.

‘From commanding the filming set to every instruction, nothing is done haphazardly.’

Even the way he treated a noble heir, himself, with such firmness had a profound influence over how he held the filming site together. David didn’t enjoy movies that much, but he thought that with a set like this, something great was bound to come out of it.

But the final product was the final product, and the hardship was the hardship.

“…Damn it, I’ll get you good later.”

David, plotting a petty revenge where he’d say ‘I knew all along’ later, barely endured the day, waiting for the sweet reward that would come in the future.

###

When it came to being worked to the bone in real time, Luke was no slouch either.

No sooner had he finished developing the items used for the ‘Aiden Enhancement Project’ than he was ordered to invent something else.

“It’s for a movie prop, but could you make a device that shows a visual effect similar to a Sword Master’s aura?”

“Uh, well…, I am busy, but I’ll give it a shot…!”

Just as he’s in the thick of developing something, they’d suddenly pop up and ask for something else.

“I thought of this the other day, but can you make a sword that shoots flames?”

“I’m sorry, but why would you be making such a thing…?”

Aiden, wondering if they could recreate a technique he’d seen in some comic book, threw out the question. But for Luke, who was already toiling 18+ hours every day, agreeing to just try was out of the question.

“Isn’t it cool, a sword with flames?”

“Haha, I suppose it would be…”

But he was bound to the Roen family for over thirty years.

If the employer said jump, he jumped.

“Waaah, this is too hard…!”

While developing a bunch of other small things, there was a more important project.

That was to upgrade the existing ‘black and white projector.’

The goal was to improve the magic projectors currently used in movie theaters, allowing them to display ‘color.’

“Please, please, work this timeee———!!”

Luke, already on his 37th prototype, testing.

To demand he, a cog in the machine, accomplish in a month what many other magitech engineers failed, might be seen as too much. But Aiden held unshakable faith in Luke, the most talented of gears and cogs the world over. And the result, as expected, was true.

“Waaah………!! It’s done—!”

Finally, Luke had managed to produce ‘colored video’.

The last key to the project Aiden had conceived could now be put to use, just barely done.

####

“I don’t even know if I’m doing it well.”

“………Huh?”

Meeting Renée maskless for the first time in ages, I found myself on the receiving end of such a ridiculous statement. The film shoot nearing its end, she was overwhelmingly good in her performance. If she didn’t know she was doing well, then who could possibly do it right?

“Is there a reason you think that? I’ve heard on the grapevine you’re doing excellent.”

“The director…”

“The director?”

I swallowed.

Did I do something terribly wrong?

“…He’s never given me a compliment, not once. I know he did for the other actors.”

“………….”

Now what kind of bizarre reasoning is this?

No need to search for any other reason for not giving praise. She was flawless now. It was just a ‘hm, good job’ type of thing. It’s that the others didn’t meet the bar I set for her. So, if they were just decent I would praise them.

“Maybe that’s just his style. Some leaders don’t feel the need to give praise when one is too talented.”

“Even so, not once is too much, don’t you think? I wanted to hear it at least once, so I worked even harder….”

Having experienced Renée firsthand, I realized her need for validation was rather intense. So that’s why she was so obsessed with her standing in high society, even in the original story, I guess. It’s not something you could just let slide, either; if you gave her a push, she’d bounce back with even more energy. So, it felt like I should say something…

‘Honestly, there’s nothing left I can teach her about acting anymore.’

Renée, who’d been a mere undergraduate, had gone through a harsh, real-world baptism in a short amount of time, racking up experience points like crazy. She was now a better actor than I ever was. Her natural talent, plus that raw experience, gave her a frightening rate of growth. What kind of advice could I even give her?

“…Perhaps you could refine your facial expressions a bit more?”

“My expressions?”

“Actors coming from theater often struggle with their voice and delivery, but one basic thing they tend to overlook is their ‘expressions.’ Your expressive power during the ‘Salome’ performance was, in my opinion, at a very high level. But if you want to push yourself to grow even more, it might be wise to explore that area.”

Of course, her facial expressions were already flawless, so it was more like picking nits.

I’d just said something at random because I really couldn’t think of anything else to say, but she seemed to take it to heart, pondering deeply.

“…Thanks, I think I know what to do now.”

‘Really…?’

If she said so, then there was nothing more to be said. It seemed a genius actor had a different way of seeing things.

“Could I perhaps watch some films for reference?”

“Absolutely. I’ll contact Loewen Theater to clear out a screen just for you. Watch anything you’d like.”

“Thank you, I’ll be sure to show you results…!”

With that, Renée rushed straight to the theater, eager to get it all on film and immediately start practicing.

But, the final scene was scheduled to be shot the day after tomorrow.

I wondered how much she could really improve in that time…

“Daniel, I hate you with all my heart.”

As soon as the filming for the final scene began, Renée’s performance exploded, captivating everyone.

A single tear traced a line down her cheek.

“So, just disappear from my sight.”

The bleakness of speaking words that weren’t true,

the affection held even amidst cruel pronouncements,

the rage at a reality that forced this—

her face alone possessed the power to convey all of it.

Even the crew and other actors, knowing what came next, watched, hardly daring to breathe.

Now, truly, the final scene.

Beneath the moonlight, the lead pair danced together.

“…I won’t forget you, thank you, Daniel.”

Their final embrace, a farewell exchanged.

In the breathless hush, Director Starfield’s voice, low, rippled through the set,

“Okay, cut.”

His words sent the crew and cast leaping with joy; the month-long push had been a considerable weight for them all.

Even as the others celebrated, Renée stood rooted, as if the ending hadn’t quite sunk in.

Then, an unexpected figure approached her.

Director Starfield, who rarely shared anything personal, uttered just one quiet word.

“Magnificent.”

“…………!!”

And then, with a flick, he turned and walked away.

Renée, having grown to admire him over the past month, was overcome by the director’s recognition.

“…Thank you, Director Starfield.”

Though he’d already gone, she quietly murmured the words.

But a strange feeling settled in.

‘That tone… it strangely reminded me of someone…?’

That someone was, without a doubt, someone she knew very well.

####

From a month ago when preparations for this film began, right up until today, the official premiere,

she’d almost never seen Elena awake when she got home.

And now, today, on the eve of the full-scale premiere.

The wind and a desolate patter of rain beat against the cinema window.

The calm before the storm.

She hadn’t even bothered to argue with the self-proclaimed critics who’d sneered about making a fuss over a movie shot in just a month.

Whether my movie is trash or not, the results will speak for themselves.

‘…Let’s give it a go, you fuckers.’

The moment of dropping a nuke on the goddamn Imperial cultural scene, and on Marquis Raphael, had finally arrived.

The die had already been cast.

Tomorrow, everything would change.

For better or for worse.