First Team Selection

The blind vote tally was complete. All the participants gathered to hear the results.

“Based on the blind vote results, the participants will be ranked. Their classes will also be adjusted according to their ranking, and they will go on to perform the stage for the first-round mission song. After the interim evaluation here, we’ll return to Seoul, where the rest of the filming will take place at the FLu broadcast station.”

Without wasting time, the vocal vote results were revealed first.

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The participants searched for their own names, rolling their eyes over the screen before breaking into cheers or groans.

The dance vote results were revealed immediately after.

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Neoul found the three characters of his own name, the only letters he could read, and felt oddly pleased. It was the same name he had learned from his forged resident registration card.

It’s almost at the very top, and almost at the very end!

The producer explained that the overall ranking had been determined by combining the votes from the vocal and dance categories.

“Huh! Joint first place!”

“No way!”

“Whoa!”

“What, that’s possible?”

People shouted from all directions, reacting in a frenzy, so Neoul asked the quiet young human next to him who had come in first place.

The person seated beside him was Lee Gal-chae, a child actor from the same Business Class signal-song practice group. He was so quiet that Neoul had never spoken with him before.

He had been watching Neoul carefully and trailing after him from the moment he entered the auditorium, and at some point he simply ended up sitting beside him.

“Ha On-ha hyung and Baek Yuri hyung.”

His voice was especially clear, his pronunciation crisp and precise. Neoul thanked him for telling him and looked for his own name.

29th: Gal Neoul

Somewhere above the middle, he found the only three characters he knew. Neoul scanned the list of names and numbers stretched out before him, the positions he had to push past in order to debut.

He could not read them, but he could feel their weight. The weight of twenty-eight names pressed down on his shoulders.

Can I do it?

Could he defeat them, push them aside, and climb even higher…?

Unlike humans, who were used to lining everything up in ranks no matter the field, everything here was new to Neoul, clumsy, complicated, and difficult. So it was only natural that he doubted whether he could manage it. But…

I should try.

He had come all this way. There was no way he could return to the Dragon Palace empty-handed.

This was something he simply had to accomplish, no matter what, and so Neoul steeled himself.

* * *

The ranking tally brought about class changes. The number of people in each class remained the same.

The production staff handed out badges to replace the stickers, which had become ragged from being peeled off and reapplied every time the costumes were washed.

Neoul, who remained in Business Class, received a blue second-class badge.

When he turned his head, he saw Baek Yuri and Ha On-ha in practice clothes, each wearing a purple first-class badge.

Woo Cheong had also succeeded in moving up from Business Class to First Class, just as he had wanted.

By contrast, Baek Gi-yeom had been moved down one step to Business Class. His biggest weapon was rap, but in the signal-song blind vote he had received a slightly disappointing evaluation for his singing.

I need to wear purple too.

Only then could he succeed in debuting and obtain the rabbit teacher’s liver to bring it back to Father.

Neoul solemnly fiddled with his badge, but he did not know how to pin it to his clothes.

I should ask right away whenever I don’t know something.

Neoul was not the sort to be ashamed of ignorance. He knew questions always brought the easiest answers. So he immediately asked the young human beside him, Lee Gal-chae, for help.

But as Lee Gal-chae attached the badge for him, he asked in a voice that was genuinely puzzled, “Hyung. Don’t you know who I am…?”

“……?”

“No, I just thought… maybe you didn’t know because you weren’t looking at me like the others do. The other participants here all know me. Even if they didn’t know me before, they usually look up which people are appearing on the show and read the articles and stuff before they come….”

“I know your name.”

Neoul remembered Lee Gal-chae’s name from the class evaluation. Seeing the badge secured neatly in place, he smiled with satisfaction and added, “And I know very few humans.”

“You don’t really watch TV or MTube…?”

Neoul nodded. Smartphones, tablet PCs, MTube, and the like had all been new to him just these past few days.

The smartphone the Sea Witch had put in his suitcase had been taken away by the production staff last time, and they still had not returned it, saying phones were forbidden during filming.

Instead, they had provided tablet PCs so each person could use one for signal-song practice.

Once, Baek Gi-yeom had used one to go into MTube and find an old debut-stage video of Baek Yuri to show him.

“Look at this, this was when he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was nineteen. At Clear’s debut.”

“Why are there black smudges around his eyes?”

At Neoul’s question, Baek Gi-yeom had doubled over laughing before explaining that it was stage makeup. Baek Yuri had rushed over like a rabbit, snatched the tablet from Baek Gi-yeom, and turned the video off.

“It’s my dark past. Don’t look at it.”

Then he had wilted away, drained and listless, before diving right back into practice.

“Oh…. So you really don’t know….”

In any case, Lee Gal-chae did not speak to him again. He sat with perfect posture, quietly staring at the floor, saying nothing.

But his expression had eased up compared to before. He even seemed to be tapping his foot, looking faintly pleased in a way Neoul could not quite place.

Lee Gal-chae had been moved down from Business to Economy. Perhaps because he was upset, he had been biting his lip and looking depressed just moments earlier, but he seemed to have gathered himself quickly.

After all the participants had put on their badges, the producer played a video to announce how the teams for the first round would be chosen. A neatly dressed man with a clean, polished appearance appeared on the screen.

“Oh! Oh! Actor Jeong Ondo! Clear sunbae!”

Woo Cheong shouted excitedly and looked at Baek Yuri. The leader of Clear, the group Baek Yuri had belonged to before it disbanded after six months, was none other than actor Jeong Ondo.

Baek Yuri’s eyes widened. A moment later, a slightly moved, pleasantly surprised expression appeared on his face.

Jeong Ondo’s face disappeared, and a massive screen filling the wall displayed 138 cards marked with question marks.

The game was essentially a card-flipping match.

If you flipped over a card with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the same picture, you got to keep it. The key was to remember where each image had been every time a card was turned over.

Here, the rule was that if you matched the same face photograph, you could bring that person onto your team.

That meant a leader with excellent memory could sweep up team members on every turn, while a leader who was not very good at the game might fail to get even one.

The more team members there were, the less attention each individual received, and the fewer parts they would get. On the other hand, a larger group could create a dazzling, overwhelming effect through group choreography.

Conversely, if the team was too small, the stage might feel empty, but each person’s charm could be shown more clearly.

Because the advantages and drawbacks were so clear, it was important to adjust the numbers carefully so they were neither too many nor too few. They had to think smart.

Baek Yuri, Ha On-ha, Yeo Do-bin, Woo Cheong, and the others stepped forward and stood in a line.

The order of play followed rank, highest first. Since Baek Yuri and Ha On-ha were tied for first, they decided their order by rock-paper-scissors.

Baek Yuri, who won the game, stood tensely in front of the screen. He had played a few card-matching games before, but never with this many cards.

Because it was a touch screen, the cards flipped automatically when you selected them with your hand.

This was the first round, so there was no way to know which participant’s face was where. Without hesitation, Baek Yuri flipped over four cards in a row from the very front.

“……!”

Every face was different, and one of them was Gal Neoul.

Baek Yuri did not want to stand on stage with the mer-prince who would soon return to the sea the moment his ordered rabbit liver arrived.

Moreover, as someone aiming for the main vocal position, Neoul was exactly the kind of person he most needed to avoid, since their roles overlapped.

I absolutely must not touch that side.

On the next turn, Ha On-ha flipped four other cards, excluding the four Baek Yuri had already turned. Once again, all of them were different from the previous cards.

Doesn’t going earlier actually put you at a disadvantage?

Ha On-ha tilted his head and stepped back.

But because there were so many cards, the game only really became exciting once all twelve leaders had taken one turn.

It was a game split evenly between luck and memory.

On top of that, since this was a game to choose the team members who would stand on stage together, it also required the shrewdness to weed out the people you didn’t want and pick out the team members who would be useful.

When his turn came around again, Baek Yuri carefully chose one person and let the others slip away as if by mistake. He had no reason to feel regret, but he still put on a face that suggested he was sincerely sorry.

If it looked like he had deliberately let them go, the picture would not be good.

Ha On-ha was just as good at thinking things through.

By contrast, Yeo Do-bin, who was third, became too absorbed in the game. He was far too earnest, and as a result he swept up four cards that Baek Yuri and Ha On-ha had discarded.

Yeo Do-bin grinned brightly, clearly pleased that he had grabbed four in a row. His sharp, delinquent-looking face changed a little when he smiled.

After a few more members were selected in the earlier turns, it became Woo Cheong’s turn at eleventh place.

“Oh! Raccoon Hyung!”

Woo Cheong found the remaining cards for Neoul. Having memorized the position of Neoul’s card that Baek Yuri had flipped first, Woo Cheong turned it over with gleeful excitement.

“Yes! Got the main vocal!”

Woo Cheong ran around, jumping up and down in a victory celebration.

“Ack! I was going to pick him!”

“No!”

Several other leaders who had been aiming for Neoul cried out in disappointment or dropped to their knees.

Neoul looked at the groaning humans with a bewildered expression. Then Woo Cheong came running over, both hands raised, and Neoul met his palms with a clap.

Humans seemed to love high-fives so much that now Neoul’s hand moved there almost by reflex.

The camera captured Woo Cheong’s celebration and Neoul’s bewildered face in full. It also made a point of zooming in on the reactions of the participants who regretted not being able to take Neoul.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Then Woo Cheong, having earned two more bonus flips, boldly turned over two cards that nobody had chosen yet.

“Wah! Whoa?! Amazing!”

Both cards were Baek ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Gi-yeom’s.

“Nice! Cutie hyung! Rapper acquired!”

Woo Cheong, who had just chosen two hyungs he had grown close to while rooming together, broke into breakdancing on the spot. It was even better since their positions did not overlap at all.

Baek Yuri, who had been aiming for Baek Gi-yeom, lightly bit his tongue in frustration when his plan was thrown off. He would have to revise the picture he had already drawn in his mind.

The camera director, spotting Baek Yuri’s troubled expression as he sank into thought, brightened as if he had found delicious prey and filmed the moment carefully.

As the people doing the choosing and the people still waiting to be chosen grew more and more anxious, the card-flipping team selection game only became hotter and hotter.

The leaders who missed every participant they wanted, and the participants who failed to be chosen by the leader they wanted and ended up on an unwanted team, all had dark expressions flicker across their faces.

Some hurriedly managed their expressions and forced themselves to shout, “Our team is great! It’s fine!” while others gave awkward smiles.

But there were always a few who could not hide the corners of their mouths sinking in dissatisfaction.

The more that happened, the more the production crew watching them grinned like little schemers enjoying a private joke.

* * *

The teams were all decided.

Baek Yuri and Ha On-ha each brought in four members without any trouble.

Woo Cheong also secured four members, including Gal Neoul and Baek Gi-yeom, while Yeo Do-bin chose as many as fourteen on his own.

The others each brought in roughly six or seven.

The production team asked Neoul whether he wanted to use the Team Member Change Ticket he had obtained in the Folk Village.

Neoul shook his head. There was no one on his current team whose soul smelled rotten.

Since the Team Member Change Ticket could only be used once, he had to be careful with it. Neoul decided to save it well, thinking he would surely need it at some point later.

12 songs were revealed all at once in a cascade.