Debut or Die-Chapter 272

We did a brief promotion with the new remix song we revealed at the concert.

The response was so good that we agreed to strike while the iron was hot.

“An insane track droppedㅠㅠ”

“How did Testar even hold back until the concert reveal? Was the challenge just waiting?”

“Please give us more, they can’t end it here”

Since it was a concert reveal, I thought it would just be hailed as a fan-favorite, but other reactions poured in too.

“Wow, did they really plan this from the start?”

└ “Even if they rushed it, it’s astonishing—sense off the charts z”

“Idol agencies these days have top-notch quality, raising the nation’s prestige”

Because we’d already laid groundwork with the last album and even beat Youngrin during that promotion, both songs had strong recognition.

Kim Rae-bin seemed over the moon.

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“I’m Kim Rae-bin. Even though this remix was just for the concert and not a title track, I’m truly grateful for the overwhelming interest. The process began by connecting the bass...”

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He posted nine short composition notes like that on Testar’s official SNS.

By the eighth post, shares and hearts on the first had dwindled to a fifth—an unspoken sign of “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Rae-bin, that post you just made...”

“I thought everyone had lots of questions, so I summarized the arrangement process—but what do you think??”

“Mhm, it’s really nice.”

He looked so happy that no one added another word. Embarrassing history remains his alone.

Anyway, the fact that this guy made a remix while touring was impressive.

“How on earth do you make something like this? When?”

“During downtime on tour, I tidied up the arrangement we used for our challenge as a hobby.”

“You call that... a hobby?”

“Yes!”

I recalled that brief conversation between Bae Se-jin and Kim Rae-bin—and it struck me again.

‘Getting multiple opinions... really helps.’

Without Cha Yoo-jin’s challenge ideas, this wouldn’t have come about. I admitted that this brainstorming, though not time-efficient, yielded solid results.

For that reason, we’re technically still in our activity period.

“We should get moving soon.”

“Yeah~”

This unplanned, short promotion wasn’t at full album-cycle intensity. It mostly consisted of appearances on the WeTube stage video channel or uploading our own footage, plus ad spots for revenue. It was essentially fan-service content.

With the Yoo-jin controversy behind us, we planned to scale back public promotions and focus on fan activities until our image stabilized.

‘We’re planning to include this remix as a sub-track on the next comeback anyway.’

Still, after a few months, the activity had been fun. It wasn’t as insanely busy as during official promotions.

“What’s tomorrow again... a WeTube channel interview?”

“Right. It’s the channel where kids meet us and listen to our songs.”

“Oh, that’s cool! I’ve wanted to try something like that~”

Since it wasn’t a large-scale or badge-proving activity, it was a relaxed, enjoyable promotion. The fans seemed to think so too.

“Cheong-woo looking at us with puppy eyes is criminal...”

“Our hamster doing his best to hold back a laugh when someone said he’s the handsomest (video) You can laugh, Se-jin... (laughing-crying emoji)”

“Studio cut version of the stage is out, I love the outfits, racing suits are topㅠ”

└ “Lee Se-jin will wear that forever, mark my words”

Thanks to this promotion, the concert’s afterglow extended nicely. Conflicts among solo fans didn’t drive the fandom’s mood to the surface; they stayed buried.

Around that time, news of Re-Listing! Idol Corporation Season 3 started to creep out. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

We were moving between buildings at Tnet when we saw the giant screen in the lobby playing an ad.

[Shareholders! Do you remember your Idol Corporation stocks?]

[This April, we’ll relist for you!]

The colors were dazzling.

“Oh... they’re doing it again.”

“For real.”

Surely the “even if you don’t want it” was implied before that line. The video showed last season’s highlights, ending with the AJUSA logo emblazoned with a huge Roman numeral Ⅲ.

“Isn’t it Season 5? Why 3?”

“Since the season we appeared in was a reboot, that’s counted as the first—so it’s the third. Otherwise it’d be the fifth~”

“Oh! Got it!”

Right. Until last ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ season, the media had to list every season, but now they measured by the Testar-producing season.

‘Tnet, desperate to keep the relisting title... probably scared by our momentum too.’

Testar was so big it became symbolic. The fact they could continue this grueling audition for profit was a bitter pill.

Plus, they leveraged our name for media play:

[“Is a 2nd-gen Testar about to emerge on Re-Listing! Idol Corporation?”]

[“A new global boy group to follow Testar is coming...”]

We gave up trying to stop Tnet—there was no point.

‘It’s funny watching this less than three years after debut.’

People might think we’re a veteran group in contract renewal season like VTIC.

Online reactions were predictable:

“Enough of relisting”

“Why AJUSA again instead of a Netflix spicy camp?”

“They milked this so much there’s nothing left, stop plsㅠ”

But fans got sharper, especially Testar’s.

“ㅋㅋㅋ Why? Testar is thriving, they’re flailing”

“How many times do they mention Testar in that article? Trying to siphon us off”

“If they bundle Testar when pushing their relisting, I swear I’ll kill them. Protect the real #1 group, you jerks”

Since Testar—male idols—was soaring last season, these juniors were a real threat. Unlike the previous female-idol season, the target demographics overlapped exactly. And we weren’t even at contract-end for sentiment shift. Fans had every right to be pissed.

Testar had another discomfort: the similarity in positioning.

Some viewers might be drawn to fresh audition narratives and feel tired of the old. That made Re-Listing! Season 3 more threatening than other groups’ appearances.

But there was nothing to worry about.

“No, no. Our team is solid! I’m not worried at all. Fans can watch this—it’s fine! They’ll like us even more. We’ve done so much great stuff!”

“Young-woo’s saying something right for once. I agree.”

The two youngest said it best.

‘Testar’s been established for years now.’

To claim “the audition program image overlaps” was laughable—Testar’s world and album image were rock-solid.

Aware of that, the members shrugged or smiled sheepishly.

“Yeah, that’s true. Let’s work hard.”

“Hehe.”

“Of course!”

Incidentally, I thought the opposite.

This wasn’t something to overcome but...

‘It’s an advantage.’

Overlap in narrative actually benefits fandom atmosphere enough to offset some leak damage. People compare openly when there’s a clear contrast, weighing pros and cons more rationally. They’ll feel satisfied seeing our superior quality.

Fandom too. Given the program’s nature, the new season’s fandom will... we all know.

‘It was always a mess.’

During airing and the six months after debut for Mirinae, there were endless incidents and drama. They can’t possibly outdo that; we’ll always have the edge.

‘Good.’

I’d figured this much, and I was actually pleased that Re-Listing! Season 3 launched at such perfect timing.

‘I can lock this mood in.’

We’d eased fatigue at the concert, so fans wouldn’t be sick of activities—they’d enjoy and redirect anger externally.

‘Anger outwards. Satisfaction inwards.’

Also, no matter what this season did, it stood almost zero chance of topping our relisting-season legacy. Not arrogance—just fact.

‘It was fluky timing and lineup that carried our season.’

That luck won’t last twice in a row.

“Everyone, let’s move on....”

“Oops, yep!”

“Sorry, Manager~”

We tore our eyes away from the screen and started moving again.

A little later, we confirmed news of the new season once more. Testar was filming a relay-dance content for Tnet.

“Excuse me, if you have a moment, could we film you? Just a short bit!”

“Ah, sure.”

By chance, they were shooting sports cheering footage, and we ran into some familiar faces.

“Oh! Hello, seniors!”

“Yes, hello~”

It was Mirinae, fresh back from their US tour.

‘Maybe they’re filming a variety show bit.’

No need for long talk—we greeted and each began our own cheering shots.

“I’ll shoot each of you quickly!”

“Yep.”

I finished mine first and sat on a bench in the corridor, fiddling with Logic on my phone. Then it happened—the Mirinae member who ranked first bowed and spoke.

Seeing his face... Ah, he was the Season 1 winner.

“Hello, Senior Mundae!”

“Yes. Hi...”

And the #1 sat down next to me with a thud.

“......?”

Why so deliberate?

He didn’t sit that close, and seemed unfazed, so I didn’t react. Instead, I looked at a poster on the wall.

It was the Re-Listing! Season 3 poster.

‘They’ve plastered it everywhere.’

I thought Tnet was really pushing it when the #1 spoke again.

“Seniors, are you watching this season?”

“Huh? No, just happened to glance.”

“Really? We just finished filming over there!”

I nodded—since we were drafted for Mirinae’s season too, it wasn’t weird. Probably they were offering encouragement.

He nodded back, but his expression was... displeased?

“I think this season is way too harsh! I wouldn’t be surprised if contestants ran off crying.”

“.......”

“And they showed mean contestants, so the nice ones are really struggling. Ugh, they didn’t do that in our time!”

Were we really having this conversation?

‘It’s the first time we’ve talked one-on-one.’

But it was under a minute, so I just nodded.

“Right.”

“Yes! Oh, they had platinum-rank choose who didn’t deserve the first stage—totally insane. And they actually kicked them out!”

“Oh.”

That was shocking. Must’ve been a total mess.

‘Definitely generated buzz.’

Their skill at torturing kids for ratings hadn’t gone away. I was impressed. #1 nodded vigorously.

“I thought you’d think it’s too much too!”

“......Yes. Hmm.”

He was a standout in multiple ways.

‘Poor staff who have to manage him.’

Sure enough, after a moment, the #2 finished filming, saw the scene, and rushed over, quickly covering #1’s mouth.

He then tried his best to smooth things over, taking over for the manager who’d run off to care for #1.

“Senior! Actually my heart... no, it’s not a personal motive—Um! Yul-gi unnie is friendly with everyone... yes...”

I answered calmly.

“I understand. Don’t worry, and good job filming.”

“...Yes!! Thank you!”

#2 met my eye and realized I was sincere; he brightened and led #1 away. #1, flustered, politely bowed and shuffled to the end of the corridor.

“Wow~ even their personalities stand out.”

“Yeah.”

Maybe just an audition-group trait.

That day, riding in the car, I reviewed the new season of Idol Corporation again.

I’d planned to monitor it anyway, but meant to watch up through episode 4 before checking.

‘First team battle usually seals a show’s fate.’

But since I heard tidbits, I decided to check it now.

I skipped through episode 1 quickly.

[“I was so shocked....”]

[“The contestant I have to eliminate is (beep) contestant.”]

[“Uoooof!”]

Yep—the same predictable edits, drama, and character beats, just more brutal.

‘They sap your energy.’

But it was entertaining, and sparked buzz online. Though harsh reviews flew, that’s AJUSA for you.

Despite the cliché, it didn’t look like this show would flop. With some fearless contestants, buzz might even beat Mirinae’s season.

“...Hmm.”

Too much success isn’t good either. Should I check more?

I looked at the final ranking at the end of episode 1 and searched the names. I shortlisted a few likely debut candidates.

‘Gold 2 again.’

A contestant with extreme pre-recognition, a handsome guy, main vocal, stage presence... and one who fit two or three of these.

[1st Place Chae Seodam]

‘He’s getting the biggest reaction.’

He’s 24—same age as Park Mundae, so older in idol terms. But his youthful looks cover that, and he was center on the first stage, meaning platinum rank.

“Found Chae Seodam ballet video, angelicㅠㅠ” (video)

And a ballet major... huh.

‘Interesting.’

Seon Ah-hyun, sitting next to me, leaned over. I was watching the blurry ballet performance.

“M-Mundae. What are you....”

“.......”

I heard him inhale sharply.

What?

I turned to look at Seon Ah-hyun.

“...!”

He was frozen stiff, eyes fixed on the screen.

“Seon Ah-hyun?”

All I heard was a faint “Ugh....”

I instantly looked back at the screen.

The auto-play video was showing a close-up of the Season 3 center smiling brightly.

Seon Ah-hyun, seeing this, right now....

‘Wait a minute.’

This guy is the same age as Park Mundae, which means... the same age as Seon Ah-hyun too.

“.......”

‘Shit, no way.’

That’s how I realized.

This season isn’t just going to be big—it’s a completely different kind of crisis.