Debut or Die-Chapter 360
One hour after it was revealed that every single Carrot Coin had been stolen.
“Arrrgh.”
The cozy lodging had become a mental wreck.
Kim Rae-bin—the very one who’d drawn that note—was ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) cowering in a corner as though he’d been doused in cold sweat.
“Carrots... my carrots,”
he muttered, clearly in shock.
“So....”
Ryu Cheong-woo spoke up calmly.
“We’re completely broke now.”
Thunk!
If this were edited, an exclamation mark would’ve popped above his head. These guys were genuinely reeling.
I folded my arms and said nothing but, “Basically, we’re beggars.”
“Beg-... beggars....”
“How could this happen overnight?”
All we had left was that one puppy.
The fluffball bounced around as if cheering us on.
Woof! Yip!
The members’ expressions lightened a bit.
“Thank goodness they didn’t take Mungge. Right?”
“Uh, yeah!”
“He’s still a puppy and could’ve been at risk, but he’s okay. That’s what matters.”
Was he really comforting us?
I mean, seriously, all because some variety-show money vanished? But after two days of total relaxation, it wasn’t exactly unexpected...
No, that wasn’t a side effect.
“...!”
We’ve been had.
They’d planned this all along, pampering us so we’d be completely disarmed when the shock hit.
Brilliant setup.
“Uh—what do we do? Of all the notes, you pull that one... the other note couldn’t have said this.”
“Let us see it—let us check!”
“No, you can’t! We need it for next time!”
“Arrgh! Seriously!”
They must’ve prepared both notes to say the coins would be stolen.
I remembered the PD’s brazen face and forced myself not to curse.
Healing my ass, you bastard!
No—calm down. Programmatically, this was peak entertainment. Healing... yeah, we’d done plenty of that in two days.
I forced myself to think that way. No rage. If I lost my temper, they’d win.
At that moment, Seon Ah-hyun, who’d been silent, raised her hand decisively.
“Go ahead, Ah-hyun.”
“I-I have a skill... should I try making something? Maybe we can sell it...”
“Wow.”
“Hmm, someone with crafty hands could make dolls or something—it’d be desperate but funny to see top-tier idols hand-crafting doll eyes.”
It was a decent idea. But this was exactly what the producers wanted.
“...You’re amazing, but catching the culprit should be our priority, right? That’s what the PD said.”
Right—that would be the show’s preferred direction.
“Who on earth? Who stole them?”
“Yes! This mysterious night guest is someone living right here in the village!”
Park Jun-kyung swallowed nervously.
“They’re telling us to catch them outright.”
“Mm.”
The members fell into thought. A moment later, Kim Rae-bin, pale with dread, muttered seriously.
“If this turns violent....”
“Oh, that can’t happen.”
“Yes, yes. It could be dangerous....”
No, they were overinvested. This wasn’t a thriller variety show; the PDs wouldn’t actually endanger us.
Big Sejin nodded solemnly.
“True. It could be dangerous.”
He was too excited—finally some hardship to generate footage!
Ryu Cheong-woo offered a compromise.
“But we’re short on food right now... so let’s help out with chores and earn coins first.”
“Yes!”
“And while we do, we can watch for who the thief might be. There must be clues.”
“Wise... and sensible.”
That was better. It felt immersive, and the contrast with yesterday’s cheerful volunteer scenes would be hilarious.
“.......”
Seriously, don’t get mad.
And so we set out, cameras rolling, to find some work from the locals.
“Sir~ may we continue cleaning your yard from yesterday? If you give us a few coins, we’ll really do a great job!”
“Oh? Sure thing.”
But astonishingly, nobody offered us any chores.
“...?”
“How many houses have refused us now?”
“Five.”
An unmistakably awkward situation.
Even the sixth house’s grandmother clicked her tongue and said,
“Oh dear... those coins? I haven’t got any left. Can’t you just take a bowl of rice instead?”
The PD chirped in on her behalf.
“That’s not allowed~”
“Why are you speaking for her?!”
“It’s the rule, the rule! You know all about the compensation system—why are you acting like this?”
These bastards, truly.
The rural warmth the producers had boasted about must have died overnight.
At this point even the most saintly person would snap. Ryu Cheong-woo laughed nervously and asked,
“Then... what do we do?”
“So! We’ve prepared something for emergencies~”
Of course they had.
They’re surely about to send us on insane labor....
“Carrot farm work!”
“...!”
Not at all the scale I’d imagined.
We boarded the bus for a short ride and arrived at the edge of a vast green field.
“Wow...”
“It’s huge.”
How on earth did they secure this, not to mention the lodging and the coin gimmick?
The PD grinned widely.
“I told you each real carrot trades one-for-one for Carrot Coins, remember?”
“Ah~ yes!”
“Right.”
While the members marveled, Kim Rae-bin brightened with relief.
Great.
“So does that mean we can just dig up the carrots and exchange them directly for coins...?”
“Oh ho~ you know, those carrots were grown by someone else for ages. Just harvesting them doesn’t entitle you to them~”
“.......”
I expected that.
Then the PD made a brazen offer.
“If you dig all the way from here to over there today, you’ll earn 5 coins each as a day’s wage!”
“Eek!”
“No way I’m doing that!!”
“I’m out.”
The PDs barely contained their laughter watching our panic.
Funny, huh?
“Everyone needs to eat, though~”
“.......”
Having grown accustomed to the show’s absurdity, the guys’ stunned expressions gave way to action.
“Shall we start over there?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t like those carrots.”
Despite the grumbling, they did their best.
I grabbed a hoe and dug, yanking up scarlet root veggies one after another.
This footage will look great.
We’d come off as earnest, hard-working youths who never lost spirit.
Or gullible fools again.
Damn.
Either way, it was beneficial, though my head throbbed from being duped so thoroughly.
This is like a deep-sea trawler, but on land.
“Put them here!”
“Okay.”
The back-breaking toil of filling huge baskets continued.
The PD grabbed a megaphone.
“One, two, three, four, five! No straightening your backs until you’ve drawn five!”
“Aaah! If my back snaps, will you take responsibility?”
“Oh? That’s too many coins for a day’s pay?”
“Sorry!”
Honestly, it wasn’t injurious—just tiring compared to practicing performances.
“Keep working!”
“.......”
Yet the atmosphere was perfect. This medieval serf vibe was infuriating—but after editing, it would be hilarious.
I get it.
I glared at the producers occasionally while I dug carrots. So far, tolerable.
But the trouble began afterward.
“Here’s your day’s wage!”
“Waaah!”
“We’re not eating carrots for a while. No carrot cake either.”
“Right, Mundae.”
Laughing at our plight, we went to the market to buy dinner with our hard-earned coins—and encountered astronomical prices.
“Just... give me ten!”
“...!?”
Suddenly the price of dalgona skyrocketed tenfold.
“Twenty coins per pound?”
“We’re dead!”
Meat prices exploded too.
Naturally, the guys ran to the production staff, shouting,
“You said there’d be no manipulation!”
“We absolutely! did not arbitrarily set prices, everyone~ we swear!”
Kim Rae-bin, almost in tears, asked,
“Then what on earth is going on...?”
“How am I supposed to know what people put on their price tags~? They sell at whatever prices they want.”
“.......”
I clenched my fist. Whoever suggested this—they deserved a punch.
In the end, we returned with baskets pitifully smaller than two days ago.
I declared flatly,
“Let’s make sujebi instead.”
“Ahhh....”
“Sujebi... is tasty.”
I still made a reaction out of politeness.
“I’m sorry... the root cause of all this... is my negligence....”
“What are you talking about! Obviously the PD’s the one pulling strings!”
Kim Rae-bin, who’d drawn the note, was nearly catatonic, comforted by Park Jun-kyung and the puppy.
“.......”
This won’t do.
I tapped Big Sejin, who was setting down groceries in the kitchen.
“There’s flour and butter left, right?”
“Uh? Uh-huh. But why?”
“Just a moment.”
I grabbed the butter I’d overbought on day one and headed to the kitchen.
They’d given us “free time” to curse the producers—how I used it was up to me.
Park Mundae set to work on something.
Hmmm.
Ryu Cheong-woo smelled something savory as soon as he washed up. He saw Park Mundae moving deftly in the kitchen.
...Western food? I thought we were making sujebi.
True to form, he positioned the camera angles meticulously so the cooking process would be well captured.
So calm.
Despite the infuriating situation, he silently crafted a practical solution. That felt brotherly.
Ryu Cheong-woo stepped into the kitchen hesitantly.
“Need anything?”
“Almost done. I’m fine. The others helped.”
Park Mundae opened the air fryer.
A golden cookie emerged, releasing a toasty aroma.
“Care to try a piece?”
“Oh.”
So it was cookies.
At that moment, Cha Yoo-jin popped out.
“I want one!”
“Careful, it’s hot.”
“Hehe!”
Ryu Cheong-woo bit into the cookie, saw Cha Yoo-jin’s eyes light up with a thumbs-up, and realized:
He plans to sell these.
It was a clever idea. Members reluctant to return to the carrot fields would love this.
“...! Delicious.”
“Glad you think so.”
Ryu Cheong-woo admired both the flavor and the concept.
I’ll help with mass production later.
But that thought was shattered instantly. As soon as the cookies cooled, Park Mundae scooped over half the batch into a container and announced,
“The others will make sujebi... you, hyung, come with me.”
“...Me?”
To where?
Then Park Mundae led him on foot to the village hall, where villagers had just finished dinner.
...??
What on earth was happening?
“Hello, elders.”
“Oh! You there—the star who brought a camera from Seoul, right?”
“The camera’s here again today. And I made something—soft and perfect for you to enjoy now.”
“Oh my, what now!”
Buoyed by the elders’ enthusiastic support, Park Mundae showered them with cookies.
Ryu Cheong-woo, caught up in the moment, joined in handing them out.
Park Mundae went further—he even “sold” Ryu Cheong-woo himself.
“This hyung won a gold medal in archery at the Olympics. Do you remember?”
“Oh my goodness!”
“Yes—ring any bells?”
“Hahaha.”
Ryu Cheong-woo laughed, shook hands, and offered massages, but he still didn’t know why Park Mundae was doing this.
“Shall I sing a song?”
“By all means, by all means~”
Park Mundae even sang trot and performed the ‘POP★CON’ dance, showing off every trick.
“......??”
Ryu Cheong-woo felt even more conflicted, but he went along, sang a line, and answered the elders’ questions earnestly.
He must have a plan.
When the mood was fully warmed and the elders’ defenses were down,
Park Mundae got to the point.
“As for these bottle-cap coins—did anyone from Seoul mention them today?”
The camera director looked flustered as Park Mundae finally heard the truth.
“It was like this....”
I spoke up.
“So, I hear you promised the ten villagers holding the most Carrot Coins brand-new massage chairs.”
Now the entire cast was gathered on the porch, confronting the production staff. The PD avoided eye contact, then muttered brazenly,
“You heard that?”
“Arrgh!”
“It’s true!”
“How could you do this to us, really!”
The torrent of criticism poured in.
Even Seon Ah-hyun’s face had flushed.
“You told us to heal, or even to sue us...!”
“Oh?”
The PD offered casually,
“Go ahead—sue us!”
“...!!”
“If Carrot Coins are a real currency—just bottle caps—who knows if they even count!”
“Argh!”
Trembling.
Park Jun-kyung clenched his teeth, muttering,
“I won’t forget this....”
“PD-nim, someday this will all come back on you as karma!”
The PD, perhaps stung, defended himself urgently.
“Everyone... don’t blame me. The real culprit! He’s definitely out there!”
“...!”
“If you find that culprit, we’ll have all the coins returned... and we’ll give you a prize of 100 coins ourselves!”
“...! Really?”
“Really~ Have you been fooled all this time?”
You scammed us.
“.......”
I took a deep breath.
Right. This is how it’s funny and entertaining.
TeSTAR had plenty of scam experience now, so we knew these producers well.
Thus, to create a more sensational and amusing scene, this was perfect.
Forcing the members to hunt the culprit, performing for the elders and PDs—this is peak content.
“.......”
But... why do I feel so pissed off? Being outplayed by someone else’s scheme? It isn’t funny to me.
“M-Mundae? You okay?”
“.......”
I made up my mind.
The PD’s voice rang out.
“Go catch the culprit~”
That night, past midnight—when only unmanned cameras remained and the staff had all left—
Creak.
I quietly opened the gate and stepped out.
Of course I wasn’t alone.
“Uh... Mundae hyung.”
Kim Rae-bin, in his tracksuit, trailed behind, looking bewildered.
“May I ask why you’re bringing me along?”
“Grab a shovel and follow me.”
“...??”
“We’re going carrot-digging now.”
I’m not letting this go.
