Debut or Die-Chapter 373
This is a short-term project group aimed solely at achieving the highest possible efficiency for escaping this place in the shortest time.
For this to be accepted, you ultimately have to acknowledge that reality exists separately and that you can return to it.
‘The question is whether this bastard can even make it that far.’
I shut my mouth. Cheongryeo slowly opened his.
“Fine.”
He’d bought it.
‘Good.’
I clenched my fist, stifling a sigh. No need to show relief.
“Then the survival show is...—”
I was about to tell him to cancel it. If only he hadn’t finished his sentence.
“Hm? That’s already scheduled.”
“...!!”
Where the hell has he been hiding his ears until now...
“Cancel it.”
“Hm? I’m not the head of the network... It’d be tough now. Haha.”
I wanted to punch him.
As if sensing it, he finally gave a decent reason.
“What’s better for early buzz than a survival show?”
“.........”
I stroked my chin.
“That’s true.”
If you appeal properly to your target audience, there’s no better way to concentrate short-term firepower than a survival show.
The problem is that he’s the one holding the knife.
“So long as you don’t screw things up.”
“Screw things up?”
Provided I don’t wreck Cha Yoo-jin on camera or anything. You bastard.
He seemed to pick up the nuance without being told outright, and Cheongryeo shrugged.
“Hm, I think there’s a misunderstanding.”
Then he split hairs again.
The condescending puppy-dog look irritated me further.
“You really think, as long as there’s no foul play, your junior’s group will debut?”
“Yeah.”
Even though he must have seen that insane AJUSA program, he says the obvious.
If someone can debut through that insane gauntlet, there’s no way they can’t handle a 2010s agency survival.
‘With proper coaching, tossing out the chaff isn’t hard at all.’
“Hmm.......”
Cheongryeo stroked his chin.
“Shall we make it a bet?”
“What?”
“Who, between VTIC and TeSTAR, will debut more from here.”
Bullshit.
“Is that something to bet on? And I’ve only gathered two members so far.”
“I only have two right now, too.”
“.......”
VTIC’s roster is half the size of TeSTAR’s, to begin with.
“Hmm, lost your confidence?”
This guy really.
I nodded.
“Then let’s judge by ratio. Fairly.”
“Fine. You’re full of confidence.”
He laughed.
“All right, junior. Then... let’s make our plan.”
He raised his hand.
“.......”
I shook his outstretched hand. A temporary alliance.
But then, his grip tightened.
“However, if we reach the end and there’s nothing—”
His expression vanished.
“If your deductions are wrong.”
“...!”
Cheongryeo narrowed his eyes as he split hairs again.
“After that, you’ll do exactly as I plan.”
“......”
He’s always digging a pit.
‘That won’t happen.’
I nodded without a word. Then I tightened my grip.
“Haha, if this were reality, it would’ve been chaotic.”
“A nightmare, really.”
And so, in reality, the mix-and-match survival show that would make any fandom faint into a frenzy was set in motion.
After a few days of prep work, articles started reporting from late February, and teaser trailers began appearing on WeTube.
The teaser follows the typical format of a major agency survival show.
First, LeTi’s new headquarters are filmed like a grand palace with sleek camera work.
[The cradle of Korea’s representative global idols, LeTi]
[Producer: Never seen anything like this before.]
[Head of Artist Relations: It’s unprecedented. Even we’re amazed we gathered them.]
[Mallang Dalkom So-hyun: But can they truly win the public’s hearts?]
[Mallang Dalkom So-hyun: That’s another question.]
People toss out portentous lines.
Then a massive title appears.
[Who is Superior?]
The initials form “WiS” in sleek 3D graphics.
[LeTi’s next-generation survival show]
[〈Wise〉]
Pronounced “Wise.” Mixing the meaning “Who is” and “Why” to ask both “Why must they debut?” and “Who are these members?”
—Ultimately, everyone calls it the LeTi survival.
I had guessed as much. I recalled Cheongryeo’s words and warmed up.
Cameras were already set up in the green room below the stage.
“Face!”
“Yes.”
Since none had debuted yet, the makeup artists’ tone lacked any service-job politeness. Strangely, it felt less mechanical than AJUSA.
‘Maybe because there are fewer people.’
I scanned the remaining line-up.
There were 14 sitting on the floor of this building.
Seven debut-team members plus seven other trainees.
‘Many faces I saw back then are here.’
On my first day, I realized many of the trainees Director summoned were among these fourteen.
Perhaps I was meant to gauge them.
‘Shin-oh, Joo-dan are here, too.’
Whether they’re original VTIC members or ones Cheongryeo slipped in, they’re all in this room.
I folded my arms.
‘Cha Yoo-jin and Kim Rae-bin should show up on time, too.’
The problem is the other TeSTAR members.
Where they scattered before the show began—I checked everyone I could find online, but....
“.......”
For various reasons, only the two youngest can make it on time. We start with them.
‘There will be another chance.’
I ran through the survival structure Cheongryeo explained once more.
—To outsiders, it’ll look like everything revolves around the president’s taste.
The main camera turned on, lights and people climbed onto the stage.
Fourteen entered in line.
The suave-faced president sitting front-row at the judges’ table began briefing them.
He’d been the face of a popular ’90s singer-songwriter group.
“You’re no longer trainees. You’ll address me respectfully as my fellow artists. Understood?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Then let me explain the rules of this program to you, who will become the new deities of LeTi.”
He paused for effect, then continued.
“This is a survival.”
“......!”
“Excuse me?”
Though they’d heard all the rumors, their acting was decent. With fourteen people, it was natural to expect eliminations.
I just held my expression still.
“Who will be eliminated, how many, who will debut, how many—it’s all unknown.”
Isn’t that the same thing said twice?
Anyway, everyone swallowed hard, faces stiff.
“You’re chasing your dream, but to reach it, you must overcome countless competitors.”
“.......”
“Therefore, from now on, the winners of these competitions survive.”
—Honor class, lower class. That’s how we’ll split you at first.
Just as said.
They announced the first mission everyone had been informed of.
[Show a solo performance.]
Main content of Episode 1.
“You must perform well, but equally important is star quality. I’ll measure that with an in-calculable charm index.”
Even if my judging criteria suck, you’d better own it: you’re the ones lacking charm.
“Yes!”
One by one, they came out and showed dance, song, or talent.
‘They’ve broadened the meaning of “performance.”’
Just in case, I managed my expression while watching the stage to avoid any catch.
Quality was... decent for trainees. However.
‘There’s a gap between them and the debut team.’
I smirked inwardly.
‘They deliberately announced the debut team late.’
They used the other seven as fodder to hype the debut team in Episode 1.
Beginners who’d practiced one week versus those who’d practiced one month show a huge difference.
They probably didn’t do it blatantly—just let rumors spread quietly among the debut members.
Like:
—“Heard about the solo performance? No? Well, practice, guys!”
‘I, being only three months in, wouldn’t have overheard any rumors.’
In this way,
—“You heard about the performance assignment? Practice, guys!”
So the classes split almost identically.
Debut team in honor class; the rest in lower class. I watched Shin-oh and Joo-dan go to the lower class. Cheongryeo’s expression didn’t change.
‘Hmm.’
Are they building a “climbing” image?
Then:
“Next performance... Ryu Geonwoo.”
“Yes.”
It was my turn. I stood and moved.
Ninth up—an awkward position.
My first stage.
‘Honestly... it isn’t that important.’
In a massive, half-drop survival like AJUSA, a first impression matters, but this runs longer.
All performances would air.
‘Here, you secure your image steadily.’
I gripped the headset mic and waited quietly.
Music began.
The LeTi president sitting before the stage, in truth, had little interest in individual trainees.
His interest lay in the company’s growth and greater success.
From that comes fame and fortune!
‘That’s business.’
As a former singer and current entrepreneur who hadn’t released an album in over ten years, he snapped his fingers.
Still, he had an eye. He’d carefully selected these good seeds.
He skipped rehearsal and practice videos, skimming the dossiers.
[Candidate Roster]
Expert-refined text rarely misaligned. He had no time to waste on details.
Especially this one on stage.
—21-year-old Ryu Geonwoo.
Beyond his personal details, the dossier’s first line read:
—“Visual pillar of the project.”
‘Quite atmospheric and handsome.’
Even among this fine selection, he stood out.
His features were sharp, exuding an elegant, intellectual vibe.
If he showed any displeasure, the public would froth at the mouth to pick him.
‘Okay.’
He braced himself—tough love would make it fun.
He crossed his arms.
“Begin.”
The outer stage lights dimmed, and a spotlight shone on Ryu Geonwoo like divine light.
Elegant, weighty music played.
“Hmm.”
Jazz-pop.
Under the moody lights, a pale face leaned into the standing mic.
[In a sweet life
There are things we need—
Music, dance, wine, maybe roses]
Pop songs are a common choice for idol hopefuls’ performances.
More about tone than high notes. Many songs suit a showcase lead vocal.
They chose the best to show every ounce of their skill, though I made an exception this time.
[In a life among clouds
Under sparkling stars]
No nervousness, no awkward tone, no clumsy technique.
The mic resonated with a perfection akin to the original, flawless sound.
“...!”
Not a hint of amateurishness—his timbre flowed like deep wine.
[When the piano echoes
Amid the white smoke
Jazz blooms...]
The president reflexively scanned his notes for the next rating.
—“Vocal skills: advanced.”
Calling that “advanced” almost undersells him.
—“End-of-month ranking: 3rd.”
And he dances decently too?
And...
—“Weaknesses: /”
Blank. A thrill ran through him.
[ Hmm umumm, Lalala-la... ]
An unblemished gem, unused image—it shone on stage. His voice filled the space until the end of Verse 1.
[Under sparkling stars]
He hit the unaccompanied high note, and the rich sound vanished instantly.
All that remained was the handsome face stepping away from the mic.
“.......”
For a moment, the silence felt hauntingly empty...
The president truly lost his words.
‘Where on earth did this guy come from at age twenty?’
Then:
A low voice resonated.
“Thank you.”
“...!”
“Ah.”
Clap, clap-clap...!!
Ryu Geonwoo’s thank-you prompted delayed applause here and there.
The atmosphere felt overwhelmed.
‘...Now!’
The president grabbed his mic.
He could add detailed commentary later in edits or interviews. Right now, he had to say this.
The instinct of a broadcaster and businessman struck!
“You’ve only been a trainee for three months, right? You were originally a university student.”
“Yes.”
“What university?”
The young man before him answered calmly, expression unchanged.
“I attend Yeonhui University.”
Exactly where ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ a cutscene would go. The president inwardly smiled.
‘Say thank you.’
He’d earned this airtime.
“Then why do you want to become a singer?”
Deliberately omitting “idol,” to avoid inviting talk of dance.
‘With vocals this good and decent auto-tune, it’ll make a killer segment.’
Everyone would want him to be a singer, but...
“You know, even if I graduate and enter another field, I could challenge good things elsewhere.”
That’s the part that explodes.
‘Come on, give it!’
Without much expression change, Ryu Geonwoo stared.
Seemingly unselfconscious of the camera, he spoke naturally.
“I’ve never enjoyed anything this much in my life.”
A faint smile appeared.
“So, I think this is the right answer. And I can’t choose anything else over the right answer. This is it.”
“.......”
No variety-show act, just a simple student’s sincerity.
A rare commodity in a trainee survival.
This is... done!
Electrified, the president raised his mic.
“Do you see, everyone? It’s not about time served. It’s about that mindset.”
He pointed to the trainee onstage.
“That clear will to debut—that’s priority number one.”
Then, grandly:
“Congratulations, Ryu Geonwoo. No more discussion. Honor class.”
Here was the highlight.
“...Thank you.”
Ryu Geonwoo answered belatedly, voice catching, then bowed.
‘He’s useful.’
The president smiled covertly.
But his opponent felt the same.
‘Why do all the big shots think the same way?’
About effort and mindset.
Ryu Geonwoo, who tailored his response to let the president spout a motto, nodded inwardly.
[Bro, congrats! The first shoot was amazing!]
“Yeah.”
After filming, the agency sent him home instead of to the survival dorm, saying they’d gotten enough footage.
‘Gives me time to think.’
Meanwhile, Ryu Cheong-woo went on an MT. From the mountain photos he sent, his hobby remains the same.
I sat in my room, lost in thought.
...Yet just then, that big statement came up.
[Looks like you’ll debut smoothly?? Bro!]
I stifled my sigh and rested my chin on my hand.
“We have to.”
[...?]
We must do well.
Otherwise, I’ll end up humiliated beyond belief.
I recalled my pre-talk with Cheongryeo.
—In the end, your junior’s group will debut with someone.
—That’s true.
Because the system’s ghost will attach again, and I need to rack up experience.
Then he propped his chin, feigned seriousness, and said:
—Shall I make sure you debut no matter what?
—What?
—Hm, no. That’s not right. This isn’t a suggestion. Of course you should.
—......
—Haha, you’re really worried about your pride here?
And I realized, damn—it’d mean I lack sense if I stopped him over a hurt ego.
—As if I would.
That’s how we got here.
[Are you... manipulating it??]
“...In the worst case, yes.”
If it looks like I’ll be eliminated, he’ll pull strings to sneak me in through the back door.
I suppressed my grimace.
‘That can’t happen.’
One has pride—not to end up drafted in after everyone else.
“Don’t worry. I’ll plan it well and target it properly.”
[...Okay! I trust you, bro!]
Right.
Just like AJUSA, I had to plan precisely in the moment. I predicted my image and sketched the upcoming dynamics.
‘I’ll focus on the elite-student angle. He asked a question in that vein.’
I’ll show a mature side, cooperate silently in group tasks.
A guilelessly earnest look might work too. With the president holding sway, I need to appeal that way.
“Hmm.”
[It’ll go well!]
“Yeah.”
After drafting fallback plans, I fell asleep that night.
Then, that week.
Unlike AJUSA, Wise producers had participant profiles and personalities already, so the agency forwarded all materials to the production team.
They got enough observation time, no need for storyline setup—the filmed footage was edited swiftly, and a second teaser dropped immediately.
And when all fourteen profiles released....
—mimi | friendly-glasses guy spotted
—ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅇㅁㅊ대존잘!!
“...??”
I realized... data-driven hype carried all the way through AJUSA.
In idol survival, first impressions depend entirely on looks.
