Debut or Die-Chapter 372
“Survival shows, like you said, have too many variables. There’s no need for that.”
“Is that so? I thought, since you debuted via a survival show, you’d prefer it.”
Cheongryeo glanced between me and Cha Yujin, then said gently,
“Don’t worry too much. The right people will make it through, won’t they? Haha!”
“......”
It’s creepy. He’s already decided the outcome.
This won’t do.
“Wait a minute.”
I grabbed Cha Yujin’s arm and stood.
“I know you’re pissed, but let’s cool down and talk again.”
“Huh, I’m not really angry. He’s right, isn’t he?”
Don’t pretend you’re not furious when you clearly are.
“They’re giving everyone equal opportunity—why the overreaction?”
“I like that... ugh!”
Stay put—
“Alright, we’ll meet tomorrow and talk again.”
I hurriedly got Cha Yujin up and turned to Cheongryeo.
To hell with it—say whatever.
“...Thanks for coming to the airport today. Take care going home.”
“......”
Cheongryeo seemed unsettled for a moment, but right now I needed to rein in this wild kid.
“You’d better watch your mouth.”
“Ouch! Mundae hyung, that hurts!”
As soon as we stepped out of the PC café, I spanked Cha Yujin’s back.
“When the situation’s a mess, even truths need to mind the mood.”
“You didn’t watch either! No reason to pick on just me!”
“......”
He only ever speaks truths.
Cheongryeo was more overtly aggressive than expected.
I’d thought he’d cajole me into staying at the agency’s dorm, removing the competition. Instead, he went straight to hierarchy sorting.
I clicked my tongue. Bitter taste.
He must be mentally unhinged.
I just got used to having a dog and a single reality, and now we’re restarting? It’s a miracle I’m not insane.
I let go of Cha Yujin and sighed.
“...Alright. You’re not at fault. But he’s got his reasons, too.”
Cha Yujin shrugged.
[We all have our own circumstances, but that doesn’t give one the right to act like a jerk.]
“......”
He always says the right thing, leaving me no retort.
“Anyway, you need to adjust to the time difference. Go to sleep. Where are you staying?”
“I don’t have anywhere!”
“......”
“My plane ticket was expensive. Can I go to that motel?”
He asks so innocently.
“Just... come with me.”
I didn’t know how to explain this to Ryu Cheongwoo yet, but I couldn’t leave him on the street.
If only he weren’t seventeen...
I dragged Cha Yujin back to the officetel where I stayed a few nights.
Ding-dong.
I rang the doorbell out of courtesy.
“Hyung?”
Ryu Cheongwoo appeared, and Cha Yujin lit up.
“Cheongwoo hyung’s here? You came first?”
“He’s my cousin, remember? We live together.”
“OK....”
Cha Yujin’s face fell a little as he turned to Cheongryeo.
“You don’t know me?”
“Huh?”
Cheongryeo looked puzzled for a moment, then burst out laughing.
Since he looked much younger, he didn’t suspect anything.
“Did hyung introduce you?”
“Yeah. This is Cha Yujin.”
I explained that they were doing an international penpal program through school and he suddenly came to Korea.
Ryu Cheongwoo admired him.
“You’re brave.”
“Brave? If I were really in that situation, I’d deserve a beating with a broom and a dragged home.”
It turned out his family was so laid-back they allowed the runaway before permission.
I pressed my eyes.
At least someone’s covering living expenses.
“Can you let him stay a few days until he finds a place?”
“Of course. My friend stayed over too.”
“Thanks! I appreciate this!”
Cha Yujin claimed the guest room, and I returned to my room to seriously think.
How to handle this mess?
I glared at the status window—don’t even get me started.
[Teammates]
[Shin Jaehyun: Thinking about the dog (//~^)]
[Cha Yujin: Adjusting to the new room (〉ㅅ〈=☆)]
Great, Shin Jaehyun’s probably working the dog half to death. And what’s that shadow emoji? A rage indicator?
Sigh.
Just then, Kundal’s popup slipped in.
[You okay?]
“Yeah.”
It wasn’t as if they were out to kill me—this mess was within expected chaos, or at least I’d have to deal with it.
[If you could debut with only one of the two of them, who would you choose?]
I thought a moment, but the answer was obvious.
“Whichever one will get famous faster in the short term.”
[That simple?]
“Simple.”
I perched on the bed.
“If getting back is the goal, efficiency is top priority.”
The faster we’re done, the sooner I return to TeSTAR’s reality. Getting mired in a fight here will only trap us.
The system seems to be counting on that.
And right now, Cheongryeo is the obvious choice.
Though timelines and circumstances mismatch, his knowledge and experience over these years is inhuman.
“......”
Still, having both would cover a wider fanbase.
Maybe there’s some crumb I can offer Cheongryeo to sway him—something that appeals and loosens him up.
I frowned.
At that moment, a polite knock sounded, and the door flew open.
Of course—it was Cha Yujin.
“Hyung! I planned tomorrow.”
“What?”
He was... planning already?
“Let’s go find Kim Raebin.”
“...!”
“You don’t have to know Raebin from TeSTAR! We can make him an idol.”
Jesus.
Well, maybe Raebin could work. I smiled.
“Alright.”
“Heehee!”
Cha Yujin, in his going-out clothes, sat on the bed—I let it slide. He’d made a productive suggestion.
And if we go find Raebin—since we trained together before, predicting his whereabouts is easier.
“Any idea where he might be?”
“Yes! Kim Raebin’s house in Gangwon-do!”
“......”
First I have to book the KTX tickets.
And one more thing.
“What are you doing, hyung?”
“Finding Kim Raebin.”
I powered up the internet, opened Woutube and SoundMist.
If this place truly is a “good life for everyone,” it’s obvious what Raebin’s doing.
Composing.
Seventeen-year-old Kim Raebin, about to enter high school this year, was intensively preparing for the future over winter break.
I passed...!
He’d launched his career as a composer.
He’d just started his first gig, exchanging emails with an agency in Seoul. Given his age and zero connections, it was astonishing—yet he and his guardian lacked expertise.
So next week, he was even getting a custom high-school uniform.
He devoted himself entirely to applying that incredible talent, while life remained peaceful.
“Raebin, come inside before night falls~”
“Is it that late already? I’ll get going.”
That afternoon’s sunset, he was helping at his grandparents’ strawberry greenhouse before heading home.
As he locked the greenhouse door, someone called.
“Kim Raebin!”
“Yes!”
Everyone around was older. He replied naturally to the demeaning tone and turned.
But there stood... strangers.
“......??”
Who were these people?
“You’re Kim Raebin, right?”
“Yes.”
The one in a randomly draped jacket excitedly shouted, and the one in a long parka responded calmly.
Neither looked younger than him.
Then!
Could this be the rumored harassment of incoming high schoolers?
He’d heard about senior bullying that even followed students home before admissions.
He’d never been bullied before—would this happen now?
Kim Raebin, whose intimidating presence silenced peers, braced himself.
“Wait.”
But the approaching pair merely wore welcoming expressions.
And they were striking.
“...!”
One had the fiercest gleam Raebin had ever seen—eyes almost yellow—pointing at him with a finger.
“I found you, Raebin!”
“......?”
What... did they have business? And pointing at someone’s face is rude!
Before Raebin could ask, the other spoke.
“So, I did find you.”
He turned to Raebin.
“Nice to meet you, Raebin.”
His voice was clear and firm. Though his look was cool and delicate, his eyes seemed warm—and somehow moved.
Raebin felt a pang. Somehow... they looked familiar.
...?
Why?
He thought deeply, then a lightning answer struck. A highly probable guess.
Raebin apologized profusely.
“I’m sorry! I don’t recall details, but I’m sure I know you two!”
“...!”
He barely noticed surprise—and an inexplicable emotion—pass across their faces.
So he asked innocently.
“Are you relatives on my mother’s side?”
Relatives he met as a preschooler and forgot?
“.......”
“......”
Silence.
“No.”
“Then...?”
“We came with a proposition.”
The delicate-looking one smiled faintly.
“A scouting offer.”
“Sc-scouting??”
The fierce one shouted like a cheerleader.
“Be my idol partner!”
“Um...?”
Raebin was stunned. The delicate one pulled out a phone and without hesitation showed its screen—it was Raebin’s account.
“This is yours, right?”
“...!”
With no time to think, the delicate one resumed calmly,
“I’m sure you’ve thought about performing this composition live on stage.”
Spellbound, Raebin opened his mouth instead of shaking his head...
And five hours later, as if deceived, he agreed to head to Seoul.
...??
Kim Raebin’s small dream of being a producer was kidnapped into an idol career.
[Cha Yujin: In victory celebration (〉ㅅ〈/)]
After exchanging contacts with Kim Raebin and returning to Seoul, Cha Yujin intermittently triggered that status again.
That worked out, didn’t it.
I shook my head in wry amusement.
With that talent and personality, it wasn’t surprising he got conned—but his fierce look balanced it out.
His persuasion style was unique too.
I’ll remember that later.
First... what to do with him. I shifted my gaze to Cha Yujin’s status explanation.
[Shin Jaehyun: Thinking of the dog (//~^)]
“......”
I can’t take this anymore.
I shook my head and stood. Looks like I’m heading out tonight.
As expected, he was in the agency practice room. Alone.
I entered. He didn’t move.
“It’s past midnight—why are you still here?”
“...Not sure.”
Cheongryeo stared at the mirrored wall expressionlessly.
“No particular reason.”
He had so many thoughts he wasn’t even practicing?
Instead of saying that, ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) I sat beside him.
“There’s something I meant to say before.”
I chose my words and spoke slowly.
“Thanks for sending me those photos of the dog.”
“......”
“I can’t keep one myself, but I liked seeing the pictures.”
He looked into space silently, then asked softly,
“Is it doing well?”
The dog.
“I trust the kind of proof I can see with my own eyes.”
“Hmm.”
Cheongryeo neither flinched nor got angry—just murmured slowly.
“Faith isn’t a matter of probability, is it?”
“That’s right.”
Whatever you believe, don’t expect it to actually happen.
But I had a conviction from these days of thought.
“But I’ve got an inkling.”
“What?”
I folded my arms and took a deep breath.
“The system is too benevolent.”
Cheongryeo turned his eyes to meet mine.
“Would you be so friendly to the one who tried to kill you? You’d just wipe them out.”
If the system were truly omnipotent and could recreate the entire world, it’d just treat this problem as an accident and end it.
“But... instead it’s only given good conditions: age, environment, ability, finances...”
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
“Even parents.”
“......”
Cheongryeo flinched slightly.
“No kindness to an enemy is without reason. There must be something they want in return—something to placate them.”
“Choice.”
“...!”
Cheongryeo covered his chin with his hand and continued.
“They want you to choose this side.”
“Yes.”
I continued calmly.
“If there’s no way out, people’s choices aren’t important. Because you can leave, they tempt you to stay.”
“......”
“And structurally, the most probable outcome... is the last one.”
“The last one.”
“Yeah. Game clear. If you succeed as an idol again, something probably happens.”
At the point after all quests, before seeing the ending credits.
A choice appears: exit to reality, or stay in the post-ending world.
I lay back against the practice-room floor.
It felt exactly like lying in my original company practice room.
“Of course this is just speculation, but the inkling feels convincing. What do you think?”
“......”
Cheongryeo lowered his hand from his chin.
“I have a question.”
“What?”
“Why must we stay here if we don’t want to?”
“To go back to reality.”
I answered without hesitation.
“And you actually want that too, don’t you?”
“......”
“That’s why I didn’t mention the dog until now.”
Not wanting unnecessary psychological damage, my unconscious wanted to reset and erase everything.
“......”
Cheongryeo leaned against the wall.
Similar posture as when he first woke in this body.
Then he spoke slowly.
“I’m not sure.”
His damn defense mechanism.
But he closed his mouth instead of snapping back. He’d probably hoped to return many times—and been frustrated. Fuck it, I can accept this much.
And it was worth it.
“But... the dog isn’t born yet.”
“...!”
“We have to meet before then.”
“That’s how we’ll do it.”
I rose to my feet.
“So, we’ll form that group.”
Not VTIC or TeSTAR, but a group built for the shortest-term, highest-efficiency output.
A risk-taking group that prioritizes gain over stability, ignoring future variables.
“A group that wins both Rookie of the Year and the Daesang in its debut year.”
I declared.
“And then we see the ending and go back.”
A short-term project group proposal.
