Devil’s Cut

While waiting for the next filming day, Neoul diligently studied Korean and music scores at the same time, all while investigating celebrities with a “rabbit face.”

He could not determine their medical histories, but through his searches he did learn that several rabbit-faced entertainers had once collapsed on stage from illness or been hurt in accidents.

Neoul excluded from the rabbit candidates anyone who had been injured by outside causes, and anyone who had fallen ill from internal causes and ended up in the hospital.

What should I do about those with aching hearts?

After reading an article about one candidate’s depression, Neoul set that case aside and marked it separately. That was how the priorities were arranged, and by the time he had finished the first round of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠targets to approach, the day of Episode 3’s broadcast had arrived.

In the living room, Neoul sat side by side with Won Hasin and Dong-dong to watch the episode.

The rankings, combining the voice and dance votes, appeared on the screen. A notice followed, explaining that the results of each vote could also be checked separately on the website.

“Oh, what place is Fish at?”

“Twenty-ninth.”

For now.

Neoul added the words silently and kept his eyes fixed on the screen. Won Hasin noisily praised Fish for ranking surprisingly high despite being a fish. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠At that, Dong-dong bristled, bit Won Hasin’s arm, and protested that a land fish had no right to judge their prince.

“Aagh! Fish! That rude little Dong-dong is trying to kill me! It was going to spit poison! Did you see that? Huh? It just tried to spit poison at me! Aaah!”

Neoul ignored the familiar shrieking and the bickering that followed. Even when he tried to stop them, they only stayed quiet for a moment. Soon enough, Won Hasin would provoke Dong-dong again, and Dong-dong would charge at him all over again.

Still, one fortunate thing was that, although Dong-dong threatened Won Hasin, he never actually used poison. Neoul had warned him about that before, but in any case, he was someone who knew how to keep at least a minimum line.

The episode moved through the rank changes, with participants receiving their badges and pinning them to their clothes.

Then, at last, this program’s MC appeared on screen.

The camera focused tightly on Baek Yuri’s expression. A short interview followed.

To ask whether he didn’t ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠want to return to a group that had failed and vanished in six months. The intent behind the question was vicious indeed.

If Baek Yuri said yes, people would write things like:

Thanks to all the searching he had done in the name of “studying,” Neoul had by now grown able to predict netizens’ reactions to some extent. It was only an assumption, but still.

Even if he said he wanted to go back, there’s no way to return anyway. How petty.

And yet if Baek Yuri said he didn’t want to go back, he would probably be attacked for that, too.

Fortunately, Baek Yuri cut off any room for controversy and answered neatly.

After Jung Ondo explained the rules of the card-flip game for selecting team members, the tense team selection began.

For the first round through the twelve leaders, everything went smoothly enough as they flipped cards and moved on.

The people crowding together and waiting to be chosen were making more noise than the people actually drawing cards. Among the fussing contestants, Neoul’s calm face was briefly shown on screen.

Then, after Baek Yuri and Ha On-ha had their turns, Yeo Do-bin succeeded in a streak of card flips and swept up four people in a row. The camera highlighted each of the four who ended up on Yeo Do-bin’s team.

Two of them looked increasingly sick, then quickly forced their expressions back under control. One bit his lip, while another moved his eyes around uneasily.

The contestant being interviewed was one of the participants who had made a rotten face. Yet when the answer did not continue and the screen simply moved on, Neoul tilted his head.

Something’s strange.

He had been asked how he felt, so there was no way that was all he had said. It looked as if the rest of the interview had been cut away entirely.

The interview with the contestant who had been biting his lip continued as well.

The card flipping continued.

After that, Woo Cheong, who had dragged Baek Gi-yeom onto his team, burst into a happy breakdance, and Baek Yuri was caught biting his tongue.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. What kind of questions are these? They’re going to all kinds of lengths just to make people uncomfortable....”

Honestly, those broadcast people.

Won Hasin muttered with a dissatisfied look.

Neoul asked, “Why is it uncomfortable?”

“Because the intent is rotten. Do you really think Baek Yuri would say, ‘Yes, that’s right. He’s an ordinary contestant, so I can’t work with him’?”

“....”

“He’d just wave it off and say no, of course. They’d probably excuse it by saying the vocal positions overlap. The production team wanted that. Since you two are both vocal positions, they’re trying to build a rival structure between you.”

“A rival?”

“Yeah. They were originally trying to set you and Kim Ji-rok up as rivals and get you fighting, but then Gye Tae-seok’s drug mess dragged Kim Ji-rok’s public image down too. Fans would all peel away.”

“I see.”

“Right, so they’re dropping Kim Ji-rok and pushing you and Baek Yuri as the hotter rivalry instead. Conveniently, you’re both vocal powerhouses.”

After hearing Won Hasin’s explanation, Neoul looked back at the screen.

So that’s how it works. They set people up against each other like that.

But Neoul no longer thought of Baek Yuri as a rival. They had agreed to debut together. And besides, Baek Yuri was the first member of the rabbit alliance.

“Oh. He handled that nicely without coming straight out and saying it.”

Won Hasin nodded.

The team selection returned to the main flow.

Baek Yuri and Ha On-ha, both skilled at acting, never got caught having deliberately let undesirable contestants slip away. But several others were exposed in obvious ways.

Some participants looked flustered in the interview, while others spoke with confidence.

Then the broadcast focused heavily on the way Yeo Do-bin swept up the remaining contestants.

As Yeo Do-bin, absorbed in the game, kept scooping up team members, their faces grew steadily worse. In the end, the team was still a proper mix of vocal, dance, and rap positions ... but there were simply too many people.

That meant fewer parts for each individual and, inevitably, less visibility. Episode 3’s meal seemed to be Yeo Do-bin’s team, and the show kept highlighting the members’ faces turning ashen.

By contrast with the other teams, who were moving along with cheerful greetings and easy “let’s work hard together” energy, Yeo Do-bin’s team looked even more stiff and awkward standing there in silence.

It wasn’t really this bad in person....

As Neoul had seen it, they had at least smiled at each other and exchanged words about doing well together.

Yeo Do-bin was shy around strangers, and his team members seemed a little afraid of him, so at first they had been visibly cautious. But once Yeo Do-bin opened his mouth and they realized he wasn’t someone to fear, everyone had relaxed and their expressions had softened.

But none of that made it into the broadcast; the screen showed only the team members’ hard, frozen faces.

“Ugh. Disgusting broadcast people.”

Won Hasin jabbed a finger at the screen and clicked his tongue again and again.

“I knew it. I knew it. Fair survival show, my ass. If there’s no devil’s edit, it’s not a survival show.”

“A devil’s edit?”

“Twisting the facts. Making it look like there was some huge problem when there wasn’t even one. I don’t know what they think they’re doing with kids.”

Neoul nodded as enlightenment dawned on him.

So that’s what the devil did! He twisted the facts!

Neoul had never met the devil, but he had heard of him from the Sea Witch. In the deep sea, you would almost never come across the devil, but if you ever did, you were to leave immediately and not exchange a single word with him.

When Neoul had asked how one was supposed to recognize him without knowing what he looked like, she had said that you would know at a glance.

Who would’ve thought the devil would work for a broadcast station.

Neoul decided that, when he went to the station, he would have to be careful not to run into him.

Won Hasin said, “Do-bin? When I saw him last time, he looked a little cold on the surface, but from the way he talked he seemed polite and nice. They cut out every line on purpose. They didn’t even include the interviews.”

It was true.

Although Yeo Do-bin was timid and deeply shy around strangers, he was not the type to stay silent. For the entire episode, his voice had barely been heard at all.

He had clearly spoken quite a lot in that quiet, careful voice of his.

Remembering Baek Yuri checking real-time reactions on an internet portal site before, Neoul followed the same route into a search page and immediately found people’s reactions.

The chat flew upward in a heated stream. The chat window split between people cursing Yeo Do-bin and people cursing Yeo Do-bin’s team members.

Watching the comments of people who all rushed in to add their own say, Neoul thought,

So this is what it is.

Broadcasting.

Some scenes were aired exactly as they happened, but others were erased as though they had never occurred at all, and still others were exaggerated or minimized.

As a result, Yeo Do-bin and his team members were already being attacked before any real conflict had even emerged.

People mostly believed what they saw.

Very occasionally, someone would infer the circumstances beyond the screen or write to criticize the production team, but those opinions never carried much weight and soon disappeared.

Neoul realized that even his own behavior on set could be twisted in ways that were never intended.

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