Final (3)

I’m translating the chapter and preserving the in-universe screen/comment formatting in HTML. The main work here is separating narration from every spoken line and comment block so the output stays publishable.CHAPTER_TITLE: Final Showdown (3)

C Team was the youngest on average of the three teams. The high school contestants Woo Cheong and Daiki, along with Son Ji-hu, and the middle school contestants Son Ji-seong and Ko Un-gu. For the record, Son Ji-seong and Son Ji-hu only happened to share the surname Son; they had no connection beyond that.

The youngest contestant, Ko Un-gu, recommended Daiki, who was the oldest among them, as leader. But Daiki’s Korean was poor, so communication with the others did not go smoothly, and in the end Son Ji-hu took the role.

Woo Cheong had long since yielded the position anyway, since he had to handle the choreography creation himself.

The song assigned to them happened to be fast-paced, hot, and full of passion.

Woo Cheong took Son Ji-hu’s opinion to heart and broke the beat down to the nanosecond, creating a choreography that was flashy and spectacular.

But that choreography looked incredible when Woo Cheong performed it; in the hands of the rest of the team, it only seemed baffling and frantic.

On top of that, because the choreography was so difficult and complex, they were too busy worrying about the dance to sing properly.

Daiki kept forgetting the lyrics, Son Ji-seong’s voice wobbled like a goat’s, and Ko Un-gu cracked on the high notes.

Woo Cheong, meanwhile, handled both dance and live vocals without so much as a wobble.

It seemed the experience of preparing a stage with older brothers whose vocals were strong and whose determination was fierce during the previous round had helped him a great deal.

Even Woo Cheong himself was so startled by how much he had improved that he bounced around the practice room in delight.

In the end, C Team was criticized for exactly that during the midterm evaluation.

It was a merciless rebuke.

After that, Woo Cheong had to struggle with scaling the difficulty down so that the others could keep up.

He had to revise the choreography so that it kept its lightness while preserving the fiery energy as much as possible.

They needed to hit hard enough in performance to stand up against a strong vocal team, but if it became too difficult, the others wouldn’t be able to follow. It was an awkward, maddening task.

Woo Cheong took the choreography he had chopped into tiny pieces and pieced it back together at a more reasonable level. Thanks to that, at least, the goat-like wobble and the pitch slips disappeared.

Daiki practiced dancing during the day and memorized the lyrics at night until he finally knew them perfectly.

The others suggested that, since Woo Cheong seemed so disappointed by the revised choreography, he could show a solo dance break to make up for it.

C Team’s video ended on Woo Cheong’s face lighting up.

C Team - Fire

The lift rose, and C Team appeared dressed like car racers. The red-and-black combination was intense.

C Team delivered a stage packed with heat and energy. They had faced a crisis during preparation, but they overcame it and pulled off a striking reversal on stage.

Among them, Woo Cheong stood out without question, with his dazzling solo dance and steady live vocals.

The final slot went to B Team.

If C Team had used the strategy of youthful energy and drive, B Team went in the opposite direction and emphasized a mature, relaxed feel.

They decided to match the languid, sexy atmosphere of the song with refined, restrained masculinity.

B Team’s lineup was as follows: Ha On-ha, Logan, Wang Huiying, Choi Liam, and Kim Ji-rok. Two foreigners, one overseas Korean.

Choi Liam in the video wore a gloomy expression. He hesitated as though he did not know how to answer, then spoke.

The question had been about communication because there were several foreign contestants, but Choi Liam’s answer was completely off the mark.

The screen then showed B Team’s practice scenes. Kim Ji-rok was supposed to stand in the center for the killing part, but during rehearsal Choi Liam raised an objection.

Kim Ji-rok raised a hand as if to sweep back his bangs. At that moment, Choi Liam reflexively shrank back, raising both arms to shield his head and taking a defensive posture.

It was the kind of reaction a person had when they were afraid of getting hit.

Choi Liam retreated with a thoroughly frightened expression. Kim Ji-rok frowned in disbelief and stared at him, looking like he was thinking, What the hell is wrong with that bastard? Did he eat something bad?

Ha On-ha, who had witnessed the situation, was just as flustered.

The strange atmosphere quickly melted away under Ha On-ha’s confident grin and Logan’s noisy enthusiasm.

But Choi Liam’s odd behavior continued after that. He had suggested a pair dance with Kim Ji-rok, only to clamp his eyes shut or hunch his shoulders and tremble during rehearsal, then hand it off to Logan because he simply couldn’t do it.

Whenever Kim Ji-rok’s voice rose even a little, or even when he merely passed nearby, Choi Liam jumped in alarm and overreacted as though he were about to have a seizure.

Kim Ji-rok swallowed his irritation and spoke with the most benevolent smile he could manage.

But even words meant to lift the team’s morale, when paired with Choi Liam’s exaggerated reactions and the subtitles, sounded more like a threat: Don’t mess up or I won’t let it slide. Kim Ji-rok’s smiling face looked frightening too.

Choi Liam was shown crying in the interview room. Then the broadcast emphasized the members watching the mood between Kim Ji-rok and Choi Liam shift uncomfortably during practice.

It even aired the moment Kim Ji-rok tried to act close with Ha On-ha and sling an arm around his shoulder, only for Ha On-ha to pretend not to notice and quietly slip away.

Wang Huiying, whose mouth had no filter, asked Choi Liam bluntly.

In truth, apart from Choi Liam’s strange behavior, there had been no major difficulties during the preparation process. Thanks to Ha On-ha and Logan acting as mood-makers, rehearsals had ended on a largely cheerful and smooth note.

But by the end of the video, the relationship between the B Team members and Kim Ji-rok still looked strangely bad.

In particular, the moment when Kim Ji-rok had frowned because his foot hurt during practice was emphasized as though he were glaring fiercely at the others and trying to intimidate them.

Only at the very end was it edited to look as though they had clumsily come together in harmony.

B Team - Choose Me

When the video ended and the song title appeared, the audience still couldn’t cheer. Murmurs spread through the seats.

The chat window was no different.

The murmuring stopped when B Team rode the lift up onto the stage.

As the lift neared the top, Ha On-ha, standing in the center, sprang high into the air and landed onstage with impressive ease.

The moment he straightened from the landing and looked forward, cheers exploded both in the auditorium and in the chat window at once.

Screams filled the venue.

He wore only a black sleeveless top on the upper body, leaving the muscles of his arms and shoulders fully exposed. Black leather pants, with belt and work boots matched in black as well, gave the whole look extra weight.

Wearing a lazy smile, Ha On-ha walked forward with unhurried grace.

With just a few lines, Ha On-ha immediately seized the audience’s attention, dancing with one hand covering his eyes in time to the languid beat.

Through the slits between the fingers of his black half-glove, his blue irises stared straight toward the camera that had just switched on.

Ha On-ha proved his own words perfectly. Whatever part he took, he said, became the killing part.

If anyone else had said it, it would have been nothing but arrogance, but coming from Ha On-ha’s mouth, it became confidence backed by proof.

Kim Ji-rok had been given the killing part of the most impactful chorus, yet even as he stood center and sang with all his effort, the audience’s gaze remained fixed on Ha On-ha.

Ha On-ha’s eyes, expressions, dance lines, even his breathing seemed to pull everyone’s attention toward him as though he were sucking it in by force.

Where is everyone looking?

Kim Ji-rok glanced involuntarily toward where everyone’s eyes had gone, then cursed inwardly.

Damn it. That fox-faced bastard.

Because he had let his mind wander during the stage, he missed the beat and stumbled over the lyrics. The eyes of the team members who noticed his mistake wavered back and forth.

While the camera was turned toward another member, Ha On-ha was dancing and meeting the fans’ eyes; he then widened his own, only to break into a sly smile a moment ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠later.