Debut or Die-Chapter 323
A few days later, Park Mundae, together with Ryu Cheong-woo, was on their way to meet Ryu Geon-woo... or rather, to meet “Ryu Geon-woo.”
“Mundae, were you surprised? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
How did things spiral to this so quickly? I pressed on my eyelids to keep them from twitching.
So... Ryu Cheong-woo only now traced Geon-woo’s whereabouts. Right, let’s start there.
“I was a bit surprised. I’m curious how you suddenly got in touch.”
“Right? Me too.”
Well, his reason and mine were different, but in any case, Ryu Cheong-woo grinned and continued his explanation.
“One of the grandchildren at the grand household happened to meet him at the Seoul City civil servant training center and got in touch.”
“So a lot of people in the clan remembered him.”
That’s... not just “a lot of people” remembering him. We’re talking about a former national team gold medalist, current Grand Prize idol—elders in that family must’ve all but fainted at the news, then pressured everyone until they found him.
‘No wonder.’
With a title like Grand Prize alone, it’s enough to induce nationalistic pride; a double title would send them over the edge.
So as soon as Geon-woo’s body reentered society, they tracked him down.
Logically, this made sense, regardless of the circumstances. I nodded silently.
‘But how do I turn this car around?’
If he ever catches on to the weird vibes between me and the Park Mundae in Ryu Geon-woo’s body, I’ll be off to the psych ward. I racked my brains furiously.
At the very least, Ryu Cheong-woo should drop me off somewhere before meeting “Geon-woo,” then turn the car around and leave...
“Sorry. I guess I got carried away and wanted to surprise you. You probably needed some time to prepare for this.”
He even made the excuse for me. I forced myself not to look too pleased and answered seriously.
“Well, I appreciate it, but I’m nervous and a bit out of sorts. I’m worried I won’t be able to talk properly. How about we head back today and reschedule?”
After all that fuss about “find him or else,” immediately saying “I changed my mind, I don’t want to meet” would be idiotic.
‘I’ll buy time and handle this gently.’
But Ryu Cheong-woo opened his mouth with a worried expression.
“Really? If not today, it’ll be hard to find another chance... the tour starts after the awards.”
Damn.
“Well... I guess I’ll just have to make time.”
He smiled broadly.
“Don’t worry. I have a license. I can sneak you out of the company and bring you back without anyone noticing.”
“......”
“Mundae, you don’t have a license.”
“...That’s true. Thank you.”
This is driving me crazy.
‘Sigh...’
Since he already knows, it’ll be impossible to meet Geon-woo separately. And refusing now—after all the trouble he went through finding him—could come off as emotional immaturity.
‘He’ll think I turned tail after he turned the clan upside-down for me.’
Maybe it’s best to just ride it out. I weighed the options and reached a conclusion.
“If you’re really worried, let’s head back today, and I’ll ask the company to set aside another time...”
“No. I’ll try to calm down on the way.”
“Mm, okay.”
Let’s not make this bigger. If I mention the company, word could leak to staff or reporters, and then it’d be a total disaster.
‘Especially since there are so many people interested in Park Mundae’s past.’
Though Ryu Geon-woo is a private citizen, he’s Cheong-woo’s cousin. I can’t guarantee no one will dig into his finances or background.
“......”
Alright, fuck it. I’m going.
Since things had come to this, I forced a smile. Any darker expression would look suspicious.
“Anyway... thank you so much. I’m really surprised—and my heart’s racing.”
In more ways than one.
“Ha ha. Got it. We’ve got time, so let’s take it slow.”
I even tried one last ploy—hinting that he could drop me off early and head back on his own.
“Hmm, so what about the ride back?”
He shut me down.
If I didn’t tell the company, I couldn’t call my manager. A taxi would only leave more witnesses.
‘Either way, having Cheong-woo drive is better for security...’
Giving up felt oddly freeing. Let’s just get this over with.
I deleted the two or three candidate numbers I’d drafted for “Keun-dal” from the message field—just in case Cheong-woo noticed them.
‘I’ll pretend to swap numbers, then split quickly.’
I ran through a few scenarios, but a nagging feeling grew stronger.
Then a practical question struck me.
“But... did you actually arrange to meet him?”
“Hm?”
Cheong-woo shrugged.
“I got a message too. A cousin from the training center said, ‘There’s someone who wants to see you. Could you spare a moment?’ and he said okay.”
What?
A short while later, at the training center on the outskirts of Seoul.
People who’d just finished today’s training streamed out of the building.
Because of transfer issues, only Seoul’s schedule was urgent; there was no dormitory stay, just commuting... but that’s none of my concern.
The important thing was: “Ryu Geon-woo” was actually in the restaurant room next door.
‘This bastard.’
Amazing. There was no need to doubt that he’d fall for such a flimsy “someone wants to see you” line.
He was well and truly hooked.
“Um, hello.”
At that reaction, I knew “Keun-dal” was in there. I watched the poor guy, who looked like he might break into a cold sweat any second.
Anger mixed with relief. In the mental realm, I’d thought meeting him in person would feel weirdly off—but it didn’t.
Rather, seeing him move Geon-woo’s body in reality ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) for the first time was oddly poignant.
Having a younger sibling must feel like this.
“You came to see me...?”
Yeah, you little shit. You keep your limbs intact and then you’re unreachable—yet you jump at a sketchy invite. What’s that about?
...But I couldn’t say that. Instead, I calmly bowed.
“Hello, hyung.”
“Uh, yes?”
“You remember me, right? I’m Park Mundae, the one you helped.”
Work on your script, please.
“Ah, ah~ Mundae... it’s you!”
“...Yes.”
Damn. He has zero acting skills.
Ryu Cheong-woo looked puzzled but assumed he was flustered and jumped in.
“I was surprised to hear you have a cousin, Mundae, who’s helped you so much. Thank you for meeting us.”
Given our line of work, they probably thought awkwardness could arise and figured it was safer to stay seated.
Actually, since he’s Geon-woo’s relative and a former dormmate of Park Mundae, he had no grounds to eject us.
‘He might get offended if I show him the door.’
Once he feels the atmosphere lighten enough, he’ll take his leave—there’s nothing else to do until then. I watched in mixed emotions.
“Thank you...! I haven’t done anything. It’s Geon-woo who... um, uh.”
And sure enough, I saw it coming. I swiftly changed the subject.
“Let’s start with a meal.”
“Ah, yes. Geon-woo hyung, what would you like... Oh, is it okay if I call you that?”
“...Yes.”
Damn. I just wanted tea and an excuse to leave, but now we’re ordering full-course dinner.
Watching Cheong-woo order the courses turned my stomach. I was already far behind in my cover story.
‘Shit.’
...And an hour later.
By the time I bit into the Peking duck main course, I’d had to correct “Keun-dal’s” slip-ups five times.
“......”
A personal record.
‘I suspected as much.’
At this point, it’s practically inertia. It wasn’t that he was careless—Cheong-woo kept steering the conversation and once or twice he’d slip up.
For example, explaining how Park Mundae and Ryu Geon-woo first met:
“At that time, really, even though you were a stranger, you gave me advice while buying me a meal...”
“Hyung, you did that. I still remember it well.”
That was a close call.
He tried to speak with our switched identities in mind, but four years of studying alone don’t prepare you for small talk over dinner.
By the way, the worst slip-up was during the red-braised pork course right before it.
“At that time—Geon-woo hyung... uh!”
He botched the honorific.
I won’t lie: I broke into a cold sweat then too.
“...Yes. I said, ‘Geon-woo hyung really helped me, thank you.’”
“......”
Honestly, I thought we were doomed.
But Ryu Cheong-woo merely replied gently.
“Ah, I see.”
Then, moments later, he leaned in and whispered—
‘You’ve studied so long, it must be tiring to talk so much. I’ll keep things short.’
‘.......’
Once again, Cheong-woo made an excuse for us. A truly conscientious, understanding person.
‘Right. Let’s wrap this up quickly.’
I seized upon that and held on by a thread.
And now, just before the next course arrived—
“I’m going to take a quick call.”
“Yes!”
Cheong-woo left the table.
Click.
The door closed, and I saw the guy opposite exhale in relief.
“Phew....”
He’d earned it.
I crossed my arms and stared at him. He kept his gaze down, aware of his mistakes.
“......”
“......”
Good. No one nearby.
I unclasped my arms and finally came to the real point.
“Why didn’t you contact me?”
Your limbs seem perfectly fine. If another issue had come up, the calculations get complicated.
But the guy opposite looked genuinely shocked.
“I did...! I did contact you!”
“What?”
“I thought this was that contact...! I mean, I....”
He looked profoundly wronged.
“Right after I saw you win, I texted you....”
“......”
Wait. I ran a quick check.
“You texted me right after the live broadcast?”
“Yes... I didn’t get a reply, so I thought you were busy and waited.”
Damn.
“I told you to text me after the awards.”
“Huh??”
He looked dazed. I pressed my temples.
“My blocked-list blocks any number not in my contacts, and I couldn’t change settings while working at the ceremony.”
“...! Urgh.”
His message got filtered along with the countless others sent at the same moment. He banged his head.
“I’m sorry...!”
“It’s fine.”
It was my fault for not explaining in detail. I sighed.
“And if it’s someone you don’t know, ask for details before agreeing to such a meetup.”
I have no idea what nerve he had to accept such a suspicious invite.
The guy opposite muttered, deflated.
“I thought it was a sign from you.”
“A sign?”
“Like 007. Since we share the ‘Ryu’ surname, I thought you contacted me for that... and there’s also Ryu Cheong-woo in the group.”
“......”
He really has an overactive imagination—yet he hit the nail on the head enough to be funny.
I cracked a small smile.
“Right. You got it this time. It means be careful from now on.”
“Yes!”
Seeing that proud expression on Ryu Geon-woo’s face felt strangely... satisfying. It didn’t feel like me more than I expected.
‘Does who’s inside change the impressions that much?’
I grudgingly accepted that, then moved on to the pressing topic.
“And what you need to focus on most is speaking carefully so you’re not discovered.”
“Uh-huh. Yes....”
He nodded, probably frustrated with himself.
“Actually, it’s partly my fault. I asked Ryu Cheong-woo to find out where my body went. So don’t worry too much. I’ll keep covering for you.”
I added that he should keep answers short, saying only that he was tired from training.
He nodded earnestly. Good, he seemed to understand.
I gave myself one more task.
“I’ll make sure we don’t bring up past issues—only current topics.”
His eyes lit up.
“Oh, then shall we talk about TeSTAR?”
“That’d be fine.”
“Hmm, then I can start from the debut and go all the way through.”
Honestly.
Perhaps relieved the tension eased, he slumped his shoulders. I offered him the remaining Peking duck on my plate.
“Take your time answering while you eat.”
“Yes!”
But despite the calmer atmosphere, hearing about our debut reminded me of the mental realm vision: the Magical Boy teaser scene reflected in the balcony window—and the remark of his that had bothered me.
“......”
I spoke slowly.
“You know...”
“Yes!”
“...you said last time you’d look after this body for a while. Are you planning to exit it soon?”
“......”
“Not necessary.”
His face, which had displayed shock and joy, stiffened. Then a strange, slightly inhuman expression flickered over it.
The same look I’d seen in the mental realm. I fell silent.
His answer came without hesitation.
“It’s necessary.”
What?
“But hyung, it’s not my choice.”
“...Then.”
“My last day being human is set.”
The day he fell from the railing and made a wish to the system.
“That’s next summer.”
“......”
“So, the deadline for me to use this body is... until next summer.”
Fuck.
