Debut or Die-Chapter 432
A few hours earlier.
After Park Mundae had dashed onto the stage, and as if on cue, the rigging collapsed in a heap above him.
“Kyaaah!”
“Ugh—haah!”
Backstage erupted in screams, stumbling bodies, and utter chaos. Lee Sejin stood frozen, his thoughts racing.
‘Is this a nightmare?’
No reasonable explanation could account for a healthy member collapsing, sprinting onto the stage, and then the whole rig toppling down. Even after everything supernatural he’d experienced, this was beyond absurd... impossible.
‘This can’t be happening...’
Snap.
Pain.
“Wake up!”
He turned to see Bae Sejin, pale as a ghost, slapping him on the back.
“He could still be alive—he has to be alive! We have to check!”
“...!!”
Lee Sejin inhaled sharply. The cacophony of panic poured in around him.
He looked back at the wreckage covering the stage—a dense tangle of steel and concrete with no clear gap to slip through. Yet... there might be some hidden space.
“We have to check inside.”
Ryu Cheong-woo’s voice—rarely so emotional—spoke up behind him.
“The opposite side of backstage!”
“...!”
“Let’s go that way!”
Cha Yoo-jin darted off like a spring, and the other members, caught in the confusion, followed staff through an open corridor around to the far side. But at the far end, they found only a monstrous pile of twisted girders blocking their path.
“...Huh.”
Crackle.
Sparks leapt from a smashed lighting rig. A few streaks of blood stained the metal.
Lee Sejin shuddered at the thought of anyone buried under that. They couldn’t leave him there.
‘He has to be alive...’
Then:
Boom.
Creeeak-crash-CRACK-BOOM!
As if to mock their efforts, another section of concrete ceiling buckled and fell.
“...!!”
“Over here! Hurry!”
The wall shuddered.
“Go inside!”
The members vaulted up the emergency stairs Cha Yoo-jin yanked open, and amid the screams and pounding footsteps all around, they followed staff instructions and escaped—no question.
Even without seeing them leave.
“...There’s blood here!”
Bae Sejin’s flashlight found Park Mundae’s blood trail leading upward.
“So that’s what happened.”
“......”
Ryu Cheong-woo summarized rapidly: they gathered survivors on the second floor after the first collapse, but another collapse sealed both the first- and third-floor exits, trapping them all on level two.
Then Lee Sejin realized something.
The metal door on the second floor they’d seen from the drone didn’t lead to the backstage door he’d used to escape. In his panic he’d confused the two.
‘The backstage exit must have been next to where we launched the drone.’
The locked iron door on level two actually opened into the office wing.
Ryu Cheong-woo finished: “That’s why Sejin hyung improvised the broadcast. The walkie-talkies are rechargeable, so fortunately he could use them.”
“......”
Lee Sejin understood: because he’d allowed himself to hope he might still be there, they lost the chance to escape together. Bloody hell.
“Thanks. But next time...”
“Next time?”
He’d meant to scold himself for that reckless hope, but realized he’d no right. If he hadn’t looked like he was dying, none of them would have stayed behind.
“...I’ll explain when there’s time but right now it’s urgent.”
“......”
Ryu Cheong-woo looked as if he had a hundred things to say but held them back. Lee Sejin had already explained enough.
“...It’s still not enough time—let’s get up.”
“All right.”
Whether it was the system or not, the status window had just displayed the collapse countdown.
[00:26:03]
“So we need to find this Grand Halldal first.”
“Yes. But getting everyone else out is the priority.”
Lee Sejin pushed open the facilities office door—and someone burst out.
“Here I am!”
Cha Yoo-jin was holding three staff badges—found in mere minutes. Thus, manpower mattered. With enough people, you could rescue both the audience and the idols.
“Great job, you fans! Let’s all get out of here quickly!”
“Ugh!!”
Lee Sejin turned at a sudden scream from a fan.
“P-Park Mundae...!”
“Hyung! You’re safe!”
Through the broken wall he saw the two they’d rescued earlier. They must’ve climbed up using the rope and were covered in even more dust now.
“......”
Both looked as if they’d burst into tears. From their perspective, the building collapsed early, someone they knew vanished, and then reappeared—no wonder they were shaken.
Damn.
“I....”
He racked his brain.
“I miscalculated the time.”
“Oh, come on.”
That was bad.
“Park Mundae, you...”
“I really messed up.”
Lee Sejin accepted Bae Sejin’s suspicious glare and, flanked by Seon Ah-hyun and Kim Rae-bin, moved on. Rae-bin even carried the laptop and drone joystick—impressive.
“Rae-bin, is everything okay? Drop whatever we don’t need!”
“You can’t judge value by appearance....”
Rae-bin eyed the crowd briefly, then declared:
“This is something we might need to escape with!”
The problem: dozens of fans were watching them now, whispering:
“Did the others stay behind?”
“Oh... what do we do?”
If they vanished to talk privately—especially if Lee Sejin tried to show his status window—the crowd would panic further. They were celebrities; even their fans worried more about them than themselves. And that was why he’d pulled Ryu Cheong-woo aside earlier for a quiet word.
He needed to direct the panic outward, to avoid rumors. But time was even tighter now.
[00:24:01]
Unsurprisingly, some people were still unsettled.
“Um... is something wrong?”
“It’s okay. I got separated earlier by mistake—that’s what spooked everyone.”
“Ah....”
He forced a mild smile, hoping for a vibe like a fan meet. One fan eyed his change of clothes—everyone else was in stage costumes, so he stood out.
‘They probably haven’t noticed the bruises.’
“Still, I’m so glad to see you all safe! Let’s focus on getting out of here together!”
Keun Sejin tried to lighten the mood, patting his shoulder. He ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) must have struggled after his own outburst earlier.
“Thanks....”
“Let’s go outside and talk more.”
“......”
He’d have explained had there been time. Now, he shifted to the urgent task:
“Is there any man in the audience left here?”
Among the scattered office dwellers might be Grand Halldal. He could have been so fixated on the status window he hadn’t noticed the chaos.
“Why don’t we all help with this?”
“No—it’s about finding one person.”
“Oh....”
He looked genuinely desperate, so they all started searching for that one man. But there were only women—fans and female staff.
“Huh.”
Wasting any more time was stupidity.
“What now...?”
“It’s okay. Let’s begin evacuation.”
He signaled Ryu Cheong-woo, who calmly began gathering people to head to the basement.
“You see what Rae-bin’s holding? It’s a controller—they confirmed a door underground with it. Let’s form a line...”
Hearing hope, the crowd rose eagerly. Even someone squatting in a corner peeked out.
“M-Mundae?”
“...!!”
He’d heard similar cries all day, but this was different. He recognized that glowstick and that voice.
‘Ah.’
It was the grad-student fan from the prop room. He’d escaped safely.
“Hey....”
“Hello. You remember us from earlier.”
Meeting eyes, the fan blinked back tears—he’d internalized his terror.
‘I won’t amplify this fear.’
He spoke as gently as he could. No time, but—hell, this was necessary.
“A-Ah-hyun caught me and helped me out. Thanks for worrying.”
“No....”
He remained calm—either because he was a grad student used to stress or because he had an iron nerve.
Either way, this wasn’t the moment to dwell. Lee Sejin followed suit.
He needed eyewitness accounts now that men were scarce.
“Did you see a tall guy with glasses, late-twenties maybe?”
“He was handsome, they say.”
“....”
Keun Sejin chimed in even in his shock—helpful or not, who knew. The fan looked blankly confused. Of course—
“Wait—I remember!”
“...!!”
“When I ran out of the front row, I tripped and couldn’t use the exit. Someone helped me up!”
What?
The grad student pantomimed.
“With a cap and glasses... tall, fair-skinned, yeah, definitely handsome!”
That fit perfectly.
“Did he make it out?”
“No—the exit was already blocked. The members called me to the stairs but....”
He looked around as if believing the man was somewhere nearby. But he wasn’t there.
“Huh? Where did he go...?”
Damn!
“When was this?”
“When the second chaos hit! Right after the stage fell...!”
“He went up the emergency stairs.”
“Yeah!”
Lee Sejin breathed deeply and mapped it in his head.
The fan had been in the front left audience row.
‘He must’ve run back to the exit, tripped, and Mundae hyung helped him up—then the stairwell got blocked.’
But there was no sign of him at that stairwell. The third floor above was destroyed.
Then:
“......”
Bloody hell.
He turned and sprinted down the corridor.
“Hey!”
“Someone’s still here! Everyone else go down to the basement via the emergency stairs!”
He yelled, then vaulted the wall.
Seon Ah-hyun and Keun Sejin flanked him in an instant.
“You’re....”
“I think we found him!”
He didn’t stop for the waiting room but headed back onto the collapsed stage where the rope still hung.
He saw them.
The audience seats beyond the stage.
“Wh-why are you back here...?”
Panting, he gripped the rope.
“He must be here.”
“...!!”
Grand Halldal was indeed in the seats.
‘And we couldn’t find him earlier because—’
He was incapacitated.
“He must be lying down.”
“...!”
Why else would he vanish from the route? He simply couldn’t move.
‘Maybe he drowned in the status window again...’
He couldn’t follow them up, so he was still here.
“I’m sure he’s in the audience seats.”
His mind cleared.
He wrapped the rope around his waist. He intended to descend and search thoroughly—but then:
‘There’s a problem.’
Now that he was lucid, he saw the vast, dark audience area.
“...Hah.”
This hall held a thousand people. How long to find and wake one man—and then have time to discuss anything?
[00:19:35]
Before this time could pass—and then climb back up to the basement exit?
“......”
He was screwed.
He knew he had to act, but instinctively his strength drained. The rope slipped from his grasp.
From beside him, a low voice:
“Park Mundae, you’re hurt.”
“Not much.”
“No—I’ll go down quickly. Give it here.”
Keun Sejin, face set, held out his hand. Seon Ah-hyun also stepped forward without hesitation.
“No...! I’ve used the rope; I know the way down. I’ll go!”
Damn it.
He’d tied the rope securely—and maybe luck would be on his side—he considered just diving down. Then:
Tududuk.
“...!”
In the vast darkness of stage and seats, at the far corner of the hall, he heard a faint sound—the emergency-exit light.
“That’s...”
The gap where they’d flown the drone. Half-blocked.
Yet, impossibly, a polished men’s dress shoe emerged.
Dusty but still fine. A long leg followed, and at last, under the emergency light, a face emerged.
“...!!”
Cheong-ryeo.
Without glancing around, she fixed her gaze on him—on the collapsed stage, on him and his flashlight.
“......”
What on earth was happening? Under that flickering exit sign, she gave a faint smile and spoke:
“What are you looking for?”
In her hand was a portable surveillance device marked for facility staff.
...CCTV.
