The Red Dragon Lord is OP, but Insists on a Pop Culture Invasion!

Huan packed his bag and said goodbye to his father.

Lately, besides performing on the streets with the Shepherd’s Theater Troupe, he had also been attending the Mixed Giant Beast Corps’ Magic Shadow Drama training class twice a week.

The days of performing on the street were exhausting, but his spirits were much lighter. Back when they were in the theater, the audience was either nobles who spoke in circles or professional critics who could find fault in any detail.

Those critics were just gang thugs in suits. Any troupe that didn’t pay their "protection fees" on time would be relentlessly attacked under high-sounding pretexts—one day it was discrimination against an actor, the next it was disrespect for some race’s traditions...

Bullshit! It was all bullshit!

At least making a living on the streets was all about skill. If you performed poorly, no one watched. If you performed well, the money would come.

Then again, it certainly wasn’t an easy way to make a living. For the first few weeks, almost no one stopped to watch them except for idle children.

That was when he realized how ridiculous his own script was—a delivery guy living in a river-view apartment.

But things had been looking up recently. They were gradually figuring out the kind of performances the public liked.

On top of that, to get familiar with Magic Shadow filming, several of the younger members of the troupe had signed up for an acting class taught by the cast of *Holy Mountain Journey*.

In the class, not only could they learn new acting methods, but they could also get hands-on with some of the special equipment used on a Magic Shadow film set.

Everything else was fine, but that thing called a "camera" was just bizarre. You couldn’t tell if it was a person or a machine, and it gave off a creepy feeling when you got close.

The Shepherd’s Theater wasn’t far from the classroom, so they arrived very early.

But they weren’t the first.

The first to arrive were always a few lavishly made-up noble ladies who had too much free time and an incredible amount of drive.

They called themselves Marin’s "mom fans." Every class, they would bring lots of gifts for Marin. Raul would refuse them every time, but they would just leave the gifts behind, forcing Raul to distribute them to the neighborhood kids.

It was obvious they weren’t there for the class. Their main activity during the lesson was to preen and pose for Raul. Mr. Raul had made it clear that he would remain faithful to Marin’s mother, which only made them like him more.

But he couldn’t stop them from coming. No matter where Mr. Raul moved the classroom, they would just buy the place and become his landlord.

’So, these ladies probably aren’t Marin’s "mom fans" so much as they genuinely want to *be* Marin’s mom.’

While writing comedy skits, Huan hadn’t forgotten his dream of writing a Magic Shadow Drama script. He just kept writing and rewriting, unable to find the right feel.

About half an hour later, the students had all trickled in, and Raul prepared to start the class.

Today’s topic was about drawing from everyday life scenarios and using physical performance to create a strong comedic effect.

This was Huan’s family’s specialty, though they had grown rusty after moving into the theater and had only recently started picking it up again.

As a demonstration, Raul and the troupe’s Shapeshifter performed a simple scene. A director needed an extra for a noodle-eating scene. The actor who came to audition happened to be starving. The first few times, he just inhaled the noodles. The director told him to slow down. Later, when he couldn’t eat anymore, the director urged him to speed up.

’What an interesting role reversal. How did they come up with such a funny little script?’

’Was it written by that shadowy boss of the Zog Group everyone’s been buzzing about? I heard *Holy Mountain Journey* was his work too.’

The performance in class was brilliant. They had only spoken a few lines since coming on stage, but the entire background was crystal clear.

The movements during the performance were actually exaggerated and not realistic, but they just felt so real.

There weren’t even any noodles in that bucket!

Yet when Mr. Raul finally collapsed into his chair, clutching his stomach, unable to speak through his hiccups and gesturing feebly with his hands, anyone watching would have thought he was genuinely stuffed to his limit.

’This kind of perfectly measured exaggeration must be what Mr. Raul always calls "proportion" in class.’

’It’s really hard to master.’

The scenes performed in class were all filmed and recorded onto Magic Crystal Stones. The only problem was that the price of a Magic Crystal Stone was directly proportional to the length of the content it could record.

The Magic Crystal Stones used for *Holy Mountain Journey* were astronomically expensive, and even one that held ten-odd minutes wasn’t cheap. As a result, they couldn’t record much, so the copies had to be passed around among the students.

The performance ended, and the two actors took a bow.

Several minutes of applause and breathless laughter filled the classroom.

If you had to point out a flaw, it was that Mr. Raul was just too handsome. Sometimes, you’d get distracted from his performance by looking at his face.

’Okay, I kind of get those noble ladies now. If I were a woman, I’d be just as crazy.’

"You demon who preys on children!" A sudden shout from outside the door shattered the harmonious atmosphere in the classroom.

Immediately after, accompanied by the noble ladies’ screams, a masked man burst in. He threw a cloth bundle that hit Raul on the head. A murky, dark-yellow liquid matted his hair and dripped down his cheeks as a suffocating, pungent smell filled the room.

It was rotten eggs. Huan had been hit with them before for telling a particularly offensive joke. He’d deserved it, and it had taught him a lesson: a joke is only a good joke when the other person thinks it’s appropriate.

Just as the masked man was about to flee, he was blocked by a body like a solid wall.

"War Axe thinks you can’t leave!" It was a tough-looking Beastman Warrior.

"It seems Lady Elsa was right to send you for protection," Raul said, struggling to wipe the slime from his face. "Thank you for your help."

"No need to thank me. This is what War Axe must do. Big Sis Elsa said those theater troupes would definitely retaliate."

’Great, he calls her Big Sis Elsa,’ Raul thought. ’Didn’t I hear that girl Elsa is only nineteen?’

"You could have stopped that bag of rotten eggs, couldn’t you."

"Of course. But the boss told us to obey the law. It’s only self-defense after harm has occurred, so when he threw it, I wasn’t sure if I should act."

’It’s pretty strange hearing a Beastman carrying a two-meter-long great axe talk about obeying the law.’

Raul walked over to the egg-thrower and pulled off his mask. He was just a young kid.

Although Raul looked refined and gentle, he was, after all, someone who had toured all over performing. Intimidating a young punk was second nature to him.

"So, start talking. Which troupe hired you? I suggest you tell the truth. Otherwise, there’s no telling what our Beastman friend here might do."

"N-nobody hired me! I’m serving justice! You’re a Demon who harms children! She’s so young, how could you lay a hand on her?!"

The kid’s legs were trembling, but he still spoke with a tough attitude. He must have believed some rumor. Raul actually had a soft spot for this kind of stubborn, reckless youth, even though they were prone to causing trouble.

"Wow, you really laid a hand on a child? Marin, come with War Axe, quickly. I’ll take you to Big Sis Elsa. It’s not safe here."

"No, brother," Raul said, feeling his bodyguard was a little *too* straightforward. "You can’t just believe everything he says."

Just then, the leader of the Mixed Giant Beast Corps came running in a hurry.

"This is bad, Raul! The Guard Corps is here to arrest you! They said you assaulted a six-year-old girl! Run!"

As expected of a man who’d been around, Raul made an instant judgment. He didn’t run. Instead, he dropped to his knees, put his hands on his head in a position of surrender, and instructed the Beastman, who had already unshouldered his war axe.

"Don’t fight back. Go find Elsa."