Debut or Die-Chapter 356

“Don’t they... even eat?”

“I’m hungry. We need to eat chicken.”

Park Mundae and Seon Ah-hyun had been holed up in the room for over an hour and a half.

Bae Sejin, who’d gladly given up his desk to Kim Rae-bin and was now sitting on the bed, grew anxious.

Why haven’t they made a sound... Are they drinking or something?

He even checked the fridge—no alcohol. He knew it was unlikely anyone had bought any in the first place.

I didn’t think mediation was necessary.

Ah-hyun had looked a bit dazed when he came in this morning, but the mood had seemed much less dire.

Bae Sejin tentatively ventured, “They’re having a good talk, right?”

A sharp response came back:

“They are. I have no idea why he borrowed my laptop, but I hope it’s helping your deep conversation!”

“...Hmm, right.”

Embarrassed that he was the only one pacing worrying, Bae Sejin let it go. I still wish someone would check on them, though.

He considered texting to remind them to eat, but before he could, Ryu Cheong-woo and Lee Sejin peeked into the doorway, summoned by Mundae.

Same age as my roommate, huh? He guessed why they’d been called.

Relieved it wasn’t him being summoned, he watched as they entered. Two hours later, they emerged looking pale.

Lee Sejin didn’t say a word—just waved his hand and went to get a drink from the kitchen.

...?

Bae Sejin was taken aback. “What’s wrong?”

Ryu Cheong-woo forced a wry smile. “Mundae really isn’t ordinary.”

“...Huh?”

“He persuaded me with pure logic.”

Debating wasn’t the context—why mention that now? Bae Sejin asked, “Persuaded you about what?”

“Well, why I should reconcile with him.”

“...??”

Persuaded by logic to reconcile? Was that even possible? But Ryu Cheong-woo added with a deflated grin, “He did it well.”

“...??”

Could that actually work? Bae Sejin was more confused than ever—but clearly something similar had happened inside that room.

“All right.”

I nodded. The two who came in had been invaluable for the variety of proofs—guessing what Ah-hyun and I discussed in writing, answering random questions in any order, drawing pictures and describing whatever ended up in Ah-hyun’s «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» hand...

With more people involved, the process grew astronomically complex, and any loopholes for trickery dwindled. The final test—getting Ah-hyun to suggest his own method—was the clincher.

This is like a gallery of eccentrics.

Every demonstration went smoothly. Because Geon-woo even took leave to come, there were no hiccups.

Ryu Cheong-woo shot me a knowingly meaningful look, like twins with telepathy. Maybe I should’ve only called Big Sejin.

In any case, both had done their tasks diligently. Sejin especially hit every contradiction I’d noticed in Ah-hyun as soon as his defenses dropped.

“Mundae was educated differently than us. Didn’t you hear him talk about humanities and foreign languages instead of national language, math, and English? I thought I misheard.”

“He can even drive. Last time he accidentally gave advice to the manager. Ah-hyun, you’ve never seen Mundae study for a driver’s license class, right?”

I’d been tempted to shut them up, but the improvements were undeniable. Over time, Ah-hyun actively suggested new tests himself. He must have grown tired of being on edge.

“Then... I’ll just ask anything, and that person will answer, right?”

“Sure.”

After countless resets and repetitions, we arrived at the present.

“.......”

“.......”

Ah-hyun stared vacantly into space, having completely relinquished his obsession with the notebook. He’s finally let it go.

Questions and keywords lay scrawled and crossed out across its pages:

Magic

Without electronic devices...

Another person

He’d meticulously examined and demolished every doubt he’d had. Now he had no choice but to admit I wasn’t just a madman—there was something real behind all this.

“Any other questions?”

“.......”

The two guests had left, and the room was silent. I tidied up Kim Rae-bin’s computer and sat opposite Ah-hyun. I could hear him swallow, then look up.

“...Ah, no.”

His eyes shone with conviction as he answered, “No.”

So firm, as if he’d emptied himself of every last concern. That’s right. Four hours of squeezing every doubt out had paid off. I almost pumped my fist but held back.

“...Good.”

It wasn’t over yet. If I barked, “Then you believe me, huh?” it would all fall apart again. There’s bound to be something that still nags at him later.

I spoke first.

“Of course, just because I’ve done all this—something impossible doesn’t prove that everything I say is true.”

“...! Th-that's...”

Having the ability and speaking truth aren’t the same. Just because I can perform magic-like feats doesn’t mean everything I say is reality. That’d be a con.

I needed to block that at the source.

“But there’s no gain for me in lying about this.”

“.......”

“As you know, from our standpoint, there’s little earthly benefit left to pursue.”

Money, fame, status—at the peak of an idol’s career, with a short shelf life, why chase more? I already had them all.

Objectively, Park Mundae, the idol, was fully satisfied both materially and in recognition.

“There’s no reason for me to spout nonsense with this power.”

To my surprise, Ah-hyun answered immediately:

“I-I never thought that.”

“...!”

“I never thought... you’d lie about something like this.”

“...I see.”

I hadn’t expected that. But I didn’t feel bad.

Right. He knows I’m not the kind to lie about this.

Was I sincere before? A brief memory passed. Thanks to that, we could move on without delay.

I paused, then said,

“Then let’s consider the hypothesis that I simply mistook myself for someone else.”

Why is that hypothesis invalid? Why is it awkward to think that “Park Mundae” mistakenly believed he was “Ryu Geon-woo”?

To disprove it...

I gave a wry smile.

“‘Ryu Geon-woo’—as you now know—didn’t live a life Mundae would envy.”

“...!”

Both were orphans struggling to get by. They might empathize, but to think ‘I’d rather be him,’ there’d have to be something enviable or better about him.

“If Mundae were deluded enough to mistake himself for another, it wouldn’t be Geon-woo.”

Maybe Cheong-woo, but definitely not Geon-woo—he’s not qualified.

“So that hypothesis contradicts itself.” And contrary to that theory, I spent hours proving my own.

Ah-hyun met my gaze with trembling eyes. I cracked my fingers.

“This is all I’ve prepared.”

“.......”

“I’ve done everything I can. Honestly, at this point I have no more proofs.”

I spoke frankly. After talking nonstop for so long without leaving a single loophole, I deserved to say it.

“I’ve gathered everyone I could and said everything I could.”

Ah-hyun nodded slowly. The atmosphere felt as if any moment he’d say, You’re right, Mundae. I believe you. I smirked.

“So... I won’t ask you what you think.”

“Huh?”

That wouldn’t be surprising for his personality—after berating him to go to a counselor, if I forced him to admit I was fine, he’d beat himself up over it again. No need to watch that happen. Better to soften it.

“You won’t get it in one go. Take your time, doubt me as much as you like—keep going.”

“Ke-keep... doubting?”

“Yes. If doubts arise, ask anything, and I’ll keep answering.”

“......”

Ah-hyun opened his mouth. He wasn’t malicious—this boundary was reasonable. Honestly, at this point, it’d be strange if he didn’t believe me.

But let’s lay down a buffer. This is when I’ll get my ‘OK.’ I stared at him, almost certain.

“Th-thank you... Mundae.”

But Ah-hyun only nodded reluctantly.

“But you d-didn’t have to do that. I-it’s f-fine.”

“...!”

“I, I showed a lot of unreliable sides.”

He clenched both hands.

“But... after you talked so long and hard, it’s not like I can’t admit it. A-and if doubts ever come up....”

He took a breath.

“Only then—after thinking it through, organizing it, checking, and it still doesn’t fade—only then will I ask.”

“.......”

“I truly... believe you, Mundae.”

Good grief.

“Right.”

I held out my hand. Ah-hyun took it—this time, it wasn’t nearly as cold.

“Let’s keep working well together.”

“Mm.”

A handshake for the first time in days.

At last, Park Mundae and Seon Ah-hyun emerged into the living room. The rest of TeSTAR, sensing the change in atmosphere, realized the conflict had been resolved.

“Well done! The winners get chicken!”

“Cha Yoo-jin, watch your language...”

“Fine—then you’ll buy it.”

“...If Mundae hyung says so...”

“No, not you.”

A few familiar playful jabs passed between them. As the leader smiled and called the company about their schedule that night...

“Ah-hyun~”

“Mm.”

Standing on the balcony, Ah-hyun turned as Lee Sejin appeared with a grin.

“Why are you alone here? Not eating chicken?”

“I’m f-fine.”

He offered a faint smile.

“You seem to have a lot on your mind.”

Lee Sejin bumped shoulders with him and chuckled. The mood softened, but Ah-hyun brushed it off, refusing to spill his feelings.

“...Mm. A bit.”

Just a simple reply. But Sejin hit the mark.

“Hm... are you worried you could’ve done better?”

“......!”

Yes. With the conflict resolved and no obstacles left, Ah-hyun could finally reflect objectively.

I wasn’t thinking rationally.

From the moment he first heard Mundae’s story, fear had consumed him and buried him in it. Instead of asking Cheong-woo or Sejin directly, he’d let anxiety rage inside. This conflict was the product of his own weakness.

He wanted to confess that. Ah-hyun spoke up.

“Mm, a bit. I guess... Next time I’ll do better.”

But what came out was simply an easy admission.

“Okay, Sejin will do the same~”

“Fighting.”

Ah-hyun decided not to dwell or repeatedly apologize and reassure those around him. That’s only to ease my own mind.

At worst, it’d only burden Mundae and trouble the team. Through all this, Ah-hyun learned one thing keenly:

If you want someone to share your burden, you must carry your own first. Being worthy of help isn’t about showing credentials—it’s about actually becoming someone worthy.

I must handle my own load. But Ah-hyun would keep his mistrust of Mundae as personal remorse and self-improvement. He resolved to rely on no one’s judgment but his own.

Then, in an astonishingly light tone, he finished,

“Um, shall we go get chicken?”

“O~ sure.”

The two left the balcony and returned to the living room in a surprisingly graceful manner. Inside, though, Ah-hyun’s resolve was anything but delicate.

The next morning.

“Ah, good morning, Mundae.”

“Hey....”

Stepping outside his door, Park Mundae noticed something unexpected.

[Trait: Grit]

[!Status Ailment: Self-Esteem Deficiency (Inactive)]

“......?”

Ah-hyun’s status ailment had deactivated on its own—without any help.

What the—

Mundae had planned to reactivate traits today based on the trust rebuilt by yesterday’s five-hour proof marathon.

Did I missee?

He squinted, ready to question Ah-hyun, but noticed something else first.

[Grit (S): One creates one’s own mindset, and thus can fully handle it.

– When activated, cancels mental status ailments. (Can stack)]

“Se-Seon Ah-hyun...?”

Mundae read the line again: One creates one’s own mindset. Whatever change had occurred overnight, Ah-hyun had broken through his slump and reactivated his trait on his own.

Perhaps Mundae would only ever guess at how the mechanism worked...

But that’s okay.

He’d overcome it himself—Ah-hyun would know best. Once skeptical of this “cheat trait,” Mundae now regarded him with genuine pride—though, if any problem arose, he’d still dissect cause and effect to find a solution. Just not today.

“Let’s eat.”

“Mm...!” 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

The next day, TeSTAR resumed activities as planned with a statement that they’d recovered their condition. As they got back on track, their first Billboard ranking was announced—a beginning of a major uproar.