Debut or Die-Chapter 379
“I want to join the team of contestant Shin Jaehyun.”
I chose Cheongryeo’s team.
Even the trainer’s eyes went wide—as if expecting me to pick Ryu Chaeyul’s team.
[Uh... hyung?]
Even this guy, who’d stayed quiet saying he wouldn’t disrupt filming, piped up.
“Why?”
[Well, Chaeyul was your competitor just a moment ago, but the vibe was good... I thought teaming up this time would hit it big as a team...]
So you planned this, too.
I let out a silent chuckle.
“No.”
[What?! Why not?]
“It’s a good idea, but it has too many traps.”
My position would become ambiguous.
If I end up with Chaeyul, my opinion automatically carries more weight than his. He’s older, I have track record, and I’m stronger in skill. If I lose and then say, “Okay, I’ll be quiet now,” it looks weird—and if there’s no one better than me on his team, I’d have to take point again.
“No.”
Then problems start with song choice. If we repeat the light, refreshing concept like last time, the boss’s evaluation will go south.
“They’ll say you can’t learn and just keep repeating yourself.”
Or they’ll think it’s a power play. And if we suddenly switch to a gloomy concept to suit the boss’s taste?
“Hmm, not sure I expected them to go this dark.”
“I understand why—but feels like they gave up trying to be considerate and just reverted to type.”
Sure, once episode three airs, there’ll be viewers who defend me against the boss’s harsh critique, but I’d be disappointing those same fans by pretending to be upset.
No matter what, I lose some advantage I’d shown in the team round—be it consideration or stubborn determination.
[I— I never imagined that... answer...]
But no reason to be upset.
“I just thought it’d be best if there was a leader other than me who’s clearly fit for it this time.”
And wouldn’t you know it, a decades- or centuries-old proven leader-type showed up.
I made a polite “thank you” face.
“...Thanks.”
“No, thank you. Hyung, I look forward to working with you.”
That was Cheongryeo.
“This round I’ll position myself as Team Member Number One, who works hard.”
That’s best.
I shook hands with Cheongryeo. He gave a faint smile.
“Saw that coming, huh.”
He’d done the same calculations.
I clicked my tongue inwardly but kept up my grateful expression.
Of course there’s cleanup to do afterwards.
“So... don’t you have anything to say to the other team that came for me?”
Right. I expected a bit of posturing here.
Before the trainer even finished speaking, I immediately went to Ryu Chaeyul. He nodded, as if understanding.
“Really appreciate you coming.”
“No... it’s—”
I shifted the point to why I was rejecting Chaeyul.
“But you don’t need to feel guilty or responsible just because you beat me. Really.”
“...!”
Chaeyul looked up.
“You earned your spot by doing well. I’ll do well this time too. Let’s perform together in the next stage.”
I was being considerate, in case guilt led him to make a reckless choice.
‘Honestly, makes sense.’
He’s from the supplementary class, so he probably didn’t know many people on any team and must’ve struggled persuading others to take him.
‘And if he joins me, there’ll be talk about parts again.’
Better for him to go separately. His stats are good enough.
“We had fun together, right?”
“! Yes!”
He sniffled, but then smiled and nodded. I patted his back to keep the mood high.
...I really was grateful, and he meant no ill will.
‘If he’s not complaining, it means he’ll get picked easily too.’
No need for further arrangements.
The other contestants who’d faced Kim Raebin were soon picked up by other teams, finishing the spare-player distribution.
But the camera still followed me.
Hmm, better to ask one question.
Walking down the corridor, I asked Cheongryeo, “Why did you pick me?”
“When we practiced, our synergy was the best. I wanted to show it.”
Not a drop of spit on his lips—and what a lie... he clearly planned this out to the last detail.
“And hyung is so good anyway...”
Typical of a seasoned pro to talk big. I returned his words like a vow.
“You better be better. Won’t be a burden to the team.”
“I have no doubt. Oh, and there’s one more reason.”
“...?”
Cheongryeo grinned.
“I thought you’d like our team too.”
“...Mm. I guess so.”
A bad feeling, but I smiled.
A moment later, I saw the members Cheongryeo had gathered.
Click.
“Ta-da—Geonwoo hyung’s here!”
“Thanks. I look forward to working with you.”
As expected... the first face I see when the door opens is Kim Raebin.
“It’s an honor to be on a team together! I look forward to working with you!”
Producer, rapper, ultra-polite. He’s completely different from me, yet useful—no wonder he was chosen.
‘So far, so good.’
I’d been planning to mentor him this round anyway.
Then, as I turned to the next, I saw a VTIC member.
“Hello.”
“Y-yes.”
Hmm, Joodan. I think his real name is something else, but I just nodded.
The surprise was the last guy who shot out like a bullet—I knew him too.
“Hyung! Welcome~ Sit down!”
...he’d even brought Cha Yoojin.
“Our team’s awesome! We’re ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) good!”
“Oh, uh, right.”
I didn’t see that coming. I expected him to drop someone overlapping in position, but this was a bold choice.
I sat down to survey our final lineup.
Two main dancers, a main rapper, a lead vocalist...
‘And me as main vocal to complete it.’
Half VTIC, half TeSTAR.
From skill to positioning, it’s flawless. If no problems, we’ll smoothly win this round without major obstacles.
Just don’t fight... I have no intention of leading, so I’ll play coordinator.
‘Good.’
Roles neatly sorted. I nodded.
“First, I’ll give a quick rundown of how we’ll structure the performance, hyung.”
This round’s simple: two teams with the same concept keyword compete. The team either wins or loses.
But I’m excluded.
I’ll get a separate “elimination or survival” evaluation.
And our keyword is...
“Umm... ‘sexy.’”
“.......”
Very avant-garde choice.
Cheongryeo smiled apologetically.
“It’s a bit awkward, right? Sorry, I’m not good at this game.”
Sure, I bet.
“No way! You did great—just the environment wasn’t good at the end. The concept is... interesting!”
“Yeah. It’s fine.”
“See? Thanks for saying that.”
Putting aside this annoying show-off performance, the concept itself isn’t bad.
It’s bold, and doesn’t overlap with our previous stages.
‘Good.’
During the arrangement discussion, I naturally supported Cheongryeo, the appointed leader, and didn’t push my own agenda.
I only smoothed in Cha Yoojin’s or Kim Raebin’s ideas occasionally.
So the arrangement took shape quickly as Cheongryeo had envisioned. He even said this line sooner than expected:
“Alright, now let’s talk parts.”
Here’s the real point.
“For that bridge high note, anyone want it?”
I immediately raised my hand.
“I’ll do it.”
“Ah.”
From then on, I volunteered for every difficult high-note part.
Since I’m the only main vocalist, being greedy won’t hurt me.
‘Showing off a fighting spirit is the right move.’
The strategy: tackle only the parts others might dodge for difficulty. If I gobble up all the time, it looks bad—so just project the image of wanting to conquer every challenge.
“Geonwoo hyung, won’t that be too hard?”
“I’ll manage.”
And I wouldn’t deny it. Cheongryeo called on me exactly when needed to showcase that image.
“Okay, should we wrap up part distribution here?”
“Yes!”
He even gave Cha Yoojin a decent part. He sacrificed a lot of his own time.
‘Hmm.’
When the crew was checking equipment, I quietly asked Cheongryeo without a mic in the corridor.
“Question.”
Adding Cha Yoojin and giving him that much time—it’s suspicious.
Without asking what was suspicious, he answered right away.
“It looks good. Two competitors who showed a strong stage now become one team. Right?”
“.......”
Once their death-match airs, Yoojin will get votes.
He intends to block viewers’ resentments toward him before they start.
‘Calculating bastard.’
Great choice.
“Seems my junior thought it was a good choice too. Want me to share these details now?”
“No need.”
I stifled a sigh.
Of course I’d heard Cheongryeo’s briefing on how this survival works.
But I hadn’t planned any further joint schemes. I recalled our earlier talk.
“No need for more detail.”
“Hm?”
“Even if we plan everything in advance, variables can pop up. Different time slots, different contestants.”
“True.”
He caught on and grinned before saying:
“And if at that moment we each push our own idea... hm, no intention to concede?”
Obvious. You’d think your plan works better.
“So we’ll adapt. Follow the situation if we end up together.”
“Okay. Do well. Your junior will debut anyway, so don’t feel burdened.”
He thinks everything’s in his control—annoying as hell.
‘Alright.’
Perfect timing. Let him face this natural disaster.
After parting with him, I called the next player into the corridor.
“Cha Yoojin.” 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮
“Umm?”
“Wait.”
I pulled him over for a quick note exchange:
On the main stage this time...
A small operation.
Yoojin glanced at the note, then shrugged.
And wrote back:
Can’t say I’m incapable.
But only for the team.
Team.
‘Must mean TeSTAR.’
I smirked.
Got it, you bastard.
“Good. Copy this exactly.”
“Why?”
So when the crew watches the corridor cam and asks later, we have falsified proof.
Two days later was mid-evaluation day.
Preparation was already done. My plan was to make an impression here, set up edit points, shape the story.
‘That was the plan...’
But a curveball came.
For the mid-check, active idols served as special judges.
“We’ve invited today’s most active K-POP stars.”
“Whoa.”
So much hype the trainees freaked out. They were a solid lineup.
And among them was...
“Hello, this is Lee Sejin from Zyro.”
“...!”
A familiar face.
To be precise, the face was familiar, but the styling was new.
Big Sejin.
“....”
Right. I’d known he’d debuted after checking online beforehand. And expected to meet him once he started activities.
Just didn’t expect to see him so soon...
Cha Yoojin nudged me.
‘Be careful.’
“....”
Right. We’re filming.
I focused on the performance. My livelihood’s depended on this long enough that one surprise won’t shake me.
“Hooook.”
“That’s it!”
The first verse went well.
And Lee Sejin from Zyro left this comment:
“Wow, you did even better than me~ Very impressive.”
“Thank you!”
“But Geonwoo-ssi.”
Why.
“You seem a bit tense. Both before and after the stage. You don’t need to be that tense!”
“...Yes. Thank you.”
Damn it.
I dashed out to the corridor during break.
Too awkward to do around people.
[You okay??]
Of course I’m okay. So...
‘Recruit ally, recruit ally.’
Use that damned fame EXP from episodes one and two—50,000 points.
[Recruit Ally]
[Episode 1 / 10]
I hit 10 without hesitation.
A list scrolled by in a flash.
One star, two stars, one star, two stars, two stars...
No names I recognize. Just unfamiliar names filling the ally window...
‘Damn.’
I grit my teeth and spun again.
[★]
[★]
[★★★]
[★★]
Endless stars poured, but no one I wanted. Useless gold wasted again.
“.......”
I bit my tongue.
Time to think sensibly. Even if I pick someone now, there’s nothing I can do.
‘He’s already debuted on another team.’
The least likely to join.
‘...Maybe that makes me more reluctant.’
Lee Sejin, who debuted elsewhere? There’s no reality-check badge here.
“Sigh.”
I sighed. With a clear head, I saw my own behavior’s logic.
“Hah.”
I snorted.
Yeah.
Efficiency or not, having more in-the-know guys would be nice.
‘...But probably won’t show up.’
Still, I smirked and hit 10 again. It was ridiculous.
Then it happened.
[~♪♬♪~]
“...!”
From the night-sky popup, aurora lights burst, swirling beyond the popup...
‘This is...’
A visual effect I’d seen before.
...When I pulled a five-star Cha Yoojin.
“Ah.”
But the screen showed four stars at first.
[★★★★]
For a moment.
Then a differently-colored star flew in and attached. Five in total.
And finally... the image and description appeared:
[Ah!]
[★★★★☆ Lee Sejin / Sub-Vocal]
“....”
[※Allies with a differently-colored star have special skills!]
Special skill.
In the 〈127 Section〉 game, that meant non-combat skills like exploration or production. That is, abilities outside main stats.
So here...
I moved my hand.
A small popup when hovering over “Lee Sejin.”
[Special Skill: Performer]
This is... Bae Sejin before his name change.
