Debut or Die-Chapter 431
Ttok.
I took a deep breath.
...Let’s sort this out.
On the announcement, Bae Sejin was holding the mic, and on the drone feed, VTIC’s Joo Dan appeared.
‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’
Twelve minutes remained until collapse, but there was one guy underground and another somewhere doing the broadcast.
The manager and staff aren’t idiots—why did only the artists get out safely?
[DING-DING-]
“The announcement has ended...”
Bae Sejin’s voice cut off.
‘Then—’
First things first: lure whoever’s still traceable out, fast. If we dawdle here, we’ll all die.
I clenched my teeth and stared at the laptop feed.
But Joo Dan—where did he disappear to?
“Where did he go this time?”
“...! H-he probably went back into that room...?”
Luckily, he reappeared on screen, holding up a fresh A4 sheet of paper.
“—Are you a survivor inside the building??”
He was trying to communicate.
“Gah!”
“I—I don’t think this drone can send voice... what do we do...?”
“Move it up and down.”
“Oh.”
At Kim Rae bin’s prompt, the drone’s view bobbed. Joo Dan scribbled another line and held it up.
“—Are you looking for an escape route?”
Rae bin nodded.
“Technically, we’re searching for people, so we should answer ‘no’—”
“Wait.”
No, that won’t work.
“It’d be weirder if trapped people weren’t looking for a way out. Let’s say ‘yes.’”
“Brilliant!”
We had to start there and steer the conversation fast.
‘He’ll ask if we’ve had any luck or guess who we are next.’
I ran through likely replies in my head as Joo Dan once again bobbed the drone and wrote quickly.
Then he held up a sentence I hadn’t expected:
“—There is an escape door in the underground staff area.”
“...?!”
“Uh—”
The message continued:
“—It leads outside and is powered by emergency electricity.”
“Th-then...”
“While preventing collapse is important, with time so short, securing an exit is critical!”
“Right, exactly!”
He was right. If we had to, we’d get whoever remained out first.
But the problem was...
‘I need to ask how long it’s been powered.’
Even emergency backup probably wouldn’t last more than an hour. How much time remained? And...
‘Why hasn’t he used the door himself?’
One more catch:
...Doors usually don’t need power to open.
Joo Dan watched the wobbling drone and added another line:
“—But you need a staff access card.”
‘Of course.’
He’d found the staff-only door that opens with a security badge.
“—Please find a staff badge and come to the underground area.”
The stairwell was blocked. Damn him.
Who knows why he’d ended up alone underground, but the mission had just been updated.
‘...Find the staff badge and get underground.’
And do it...
[00:10:34]
...within ten minutes.
“......”
“There wasn’t a badge in the edit room... but I’ll look again and come back!”
“If so, I’ll find another way to reach the basement... Mundae?”
I set the laptop on the floor.
“Ten minutes left. That’s impossible for both of you.”
“......”
“I need to try something else.”
“Yes?”
We had no choice. I stood and grabbed the curtain-rope.
Joo Dan lifted his head as a beam of light cut through the dark corridor.
[Wheee—]
A drone—the now-familiar modern disaster-apocalypse tool.
‘Huh.’
He propped his chin on his hand and nodded. Survivors trapped in a building were finding exits in all kinds of ways.
He’d better respond traditionally.
He ducked into the room behind him.
“Could I borrow your phone—”
“......”
No answer.
What did he expect?
He switched tactics, grabbing a fresh A4 sheet.
“—Are you a survivor inside the building?”
The drone bobbed up and down. He was fairly responsive. Joo Dan seemed interested and obliged with earnest info.
‘Going myself... that’s a stretch.’
Better to act within reason. He shrugged, then staggered as the drone suddenly fell.
‘He must be scrambling for that staff badge.’
He’d done his human duty now.
“Hyung, the drone just flew in and we had a short exchange. It’s not rescue—it’s another survivor trapped here.”
“I see.”
Meanwhile, someone with him wasn’t paying attention.
At the underground facilities office, Cheong-ryeo was expressionlessly toggling devices.
He’d expected no power for CCTV, but she’d used a portable wireless-charged security device to pull up the last minutes of footage in tiny windows.
An idol would never instinctively know that trick.
‘Experience from all those loops, I guess.’
Perhaps she’d once lived under such pressure that she became a killer—but Joo Dan resolved to treat her politely from now on.
Disregarding him, she flipped through CCTV screens mechanically.
Dark, flickering monitors and then another.
“......”
Then:
“Oh.”
There he was.
Cheong-ryeo spotted Mundae beyond the broken wall at the second-floor emergency stairs, lit by a faint glowstick.
She watched without flinching as the entire equipment room collapsed where Park Mundae had been.
“......”
Her deduction based on experience was eerily accurate.
She felt no special joy—just confirmation of what she already knew.
There was no CCTV over the collapsed stage wreckage, so she couldn’t verify it here.
Though she’d seen no blood earlier, he could be buried under the rubble.
“......”
She lowered her hand.
She knew the remaining battery could still scan the audience seats.
Yet she hesitated.
Because...
‘It’s too quiet.’
If Park Mundae were alive, the disaster’s chaos would still be raging.
But quiet meant it was over.
“......”
‘Why did I need to confirm this deduction?’
Without expression, she stared at her device.
Joo Dan watched her blankly, as if expecting flashbacks.
Then, high above... somewhere on the upper floors, a massive crash and tremor ripped through down to the basement.
“...!!”
Objects fell, the world shook.
Joo Dan dove under a desk, covering his head.
‘A setup?’
Giving the drone flyers good intel, only to have the basement collapse on them.
‘That’d be bad.’
He readied himself, lifting his head to look at his team—and froze.
“...!”
Cheong-ryeo... was faintly smiling.
Standing still amid shaking devices and flickering lights, her smile felt unreal.
‘Is she sensing the thrill of surviving danger?’
That was absurd. Then, above the chaos, he heard her murmur:
“Shall we go find him?”
Eight minutes to collapse.
“M-Mundae?”
“Hold on.”
I returned to the collapsed stage and carefully climbed back up.
‘The spot we came down earlier.’
I reevaluated the structure around me.
The second floor formed a U shape around the central stage, splitting the right and left halves.
‘We descended using the right side’s waiting room area.’
On the right, the wall gaped open.
The left second floor was the office area for staff and executives.
Upstairs access—but inaccessible.
‘Hah.’
I caught my breath and turned to the two.
“I have a request.”
“W-what is it?”
“I need to go back up there. Could you support me?”
“...!”
They looked startled at my plan to return to the waiting-room corridor.
“Are you going to look for a staff badge?”
“Something like that. No time to explain.”
I spoke quickly.
“If I go up....”
“There’s no time to explain. Hurry!”
Seon Ah hyun bit his lip, looked ready to refuse, but then nodded with a determined face.
“Okay... I trust you.”
“......Right.”
Damn it.
To stave off unnecessary guilt, I turned away and tied the curtain ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ rope around my waist.
If I slipped, I wouldn’t die, and once up there I could anchor one end so they could climb after me.
“Rely on me...!”
“Stand firmly, please!”
“Got it.”
I braced their thighs and shoulders, reached into the void, and leapt.
‘Got it...!’
I gripped a rebar, pulled myself up, and swung my other hand onto the second-floor ledge.
My stomach slammed roughly against broken concrete.
Thud.
‘Fuck.’
It hurt like hell. But the important thing was...
‘I made it...!’
“Hah.”
I rolled onto the second-floor floor and loosened the rope. From below, voices cried:
“You okay?!”
“Yeah! The stage is too dangerous—move to the central pillars and wait. We’ll call you!”
“Understood! How much time’s left?”
[00:04:31]
“...Eight minutes!”
Even if panic hit, I wouldn’t lose it before four minutes remained.
Satisfied they heard me, I moved on.
Flashing my flashlight, I searched several rooms for the staff card—but found none.
Of course not—this area was for outsiders.
[00:01:57]
‘No badge backstage either.’
I’d need to go to the office area on the opposite second-floor side.
But there was no path.
‘Then I’ll make one.’
Judging distances, I headed around the stage toward the corridor’s end.
“...Huff.”
Here.
Beyond this small waiting-room wall lay the office area—probably.
“......”
I had no way to smash through. Clearing the emergency stairs might be more realistic, but there was no time.
‘Then...’
Consider this:
We knew the building would collapse again, but that wouldn’t clear the already-fallen debris.
‘However, a sturdy wall could still be brought down...!’
[00:01:03]
I began moving heavy furniture in front of the wall.
‘That wall targeted me precisely once before.’
If Grand Halldal (presumed) noticed the contradiction and downgrading to “mission failed,” the disaster probably shrank in scope.
They even kindly warned us of the collapse.
‘We’ll turn it back against them.’
Having survived twice already, I’d do better this time.
I steadied myself and prepared mentally.
The countdown hit:
[00:00:03]
[00:00:02]
[00:00:01]
Click.
Silence.
I pressed against the wall.
[00:00:00]
Then swung to the side.
“...!”
At the same moment, a thunderous blast rocked the room, and the heavy furniture and metal props I’d piled crashed down on the spot where I’d been.
Screeeeeech—crash!
Even the massive ceiling lamp plummeted.
‘Fuck.’
For a moment, regret stabbed at me... no, shut up—this is right!
Move!
I rolled aside.
“Hah,”
I slid under a vanity.
Sharp debris spat sparks against my cheek.
Ziiiiii—
Then the final collapse’s roar. As it subsided...
An unexpected sound rose above everything.
“Screaaaam!”
“Mommmmy!”
Screams and cries.
“......”
I staggered out from under the vanity.
Rubble littered the floor, and through the half-collapsed wall, light and sound streamed in. I walked forward, stepping over debris.
Beyond that wall lay...
“Th-there’s people here... M-Mundae??”
Over ten people sat before the elevators.
And it didn’t end there.
Flickering emergency lights revealed sounds coming from corridors beyond.
“Who are you?”
“What’s happening now?”
“......”
The people missing from the audience seats were all here.
‘What the hell.’
I blinked—and, a beat late from shock, saw it:
[Facilities Office]
A nameplate on the open door and an announcement mic inside.
Then someone burst out, stumbling—
“...Park Mundae?”
It was Keun Sejin in his stage outfit.
He stared at me in disbelief, then ran up and grabbed my head with both hands.
And that wasn’t all.
“Mundae??”
More people emerged from the room.
“Mundae hyung!!”
“Y-you... you...!!”
Cha Yoo-jin, harness torn; Ryu Cheong-woo, sleeves rolled up.
And even Bae Sejin, who’d been broadcasting earlier.
‘...No.’
This was the worst. That they’d all stayed here was a nightmare.
Yet.
I was damn glad to see them.
I managed to speak.
“...I’m sorry.”
“You crazy, crazy bastard...!”
“......”
Hearing Keun Sejin curse like that—for the first time, in front of fans—didn’t anger me. Even the ribs I’d bruised from the hug were bearable.
‘So heavy, you jerk.’
I paused all questions and accepted the reunion.
But the popup updated again.
[Sudden!]
Mission Failed: Building Collapse
– Disaster of the collapsing building (complete) : Time until final disaster 00:29:59
