Chapter 239: Our Neighborhood Study King (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 239: Our Neighborhood Study King (5)
As expected, Song Min-il had reached his limit. That was the only reason such a blatant instruction would be given.
The plan was obvious: they would pose a question of extreme difficulty, and when all three failed to answer, they’d stop the recording. Then, during the break, the writers would sneakily feed Song Min-il the final answer. After all, they could just edit out the part where everyone got it wrong.
What a farce. I understood that large agencies used their capital to push their agendas—that was just the way of the business ecosystem—but shouldn't there be a modicum of professional ethics?
“Now, here is Question 54.”
The MC’s voice echoed from the ceiling.
I secretly hoped the production team, unaware of Lee Cheong-hyeon’s vast knowledge of marine biology, would throw out a question about sea creatures.
But they probably wouldn't give us any more questions that Cheong-hyeon or I could answer—things like classical music, math, or four-character idioms.
Just as I was genuinely wondering what would come next, the question was read.
“...What is the English word for ‘a position that requires little or no work but provides a good salary’?”
Hm?
In short, a sinecure. Obtaining honor or income for free without labor.
The moment I first saw that word, I thought it was my dream job. While preparing for the TOEIC Speaking test, the only things that stuck in my head were useless words like this. What a waste of my exam fees.
Grumbling to myself, I scribbled the letters onto my whiteboard. I guess I was overthinking it when I thought this question was meant to be an edit point.
“Please... lift your boards!”
A cheesy sound effect played in sync with the MC’s cue.
Including the initial board-flashing intro, this was the fifty-fifth time I’d lifted this thing. By now, I could flip the board without even thinking about where to grip it so I wouldn't smudge the writing.
I skillfully raised the board to chest level and checked the people to my left and right...
The expressions on their faces were strange. It was enough to make me wonder if I’d written something wrong.
Why? Did I mess up the spelling? Did I get one letter wrong and accidentally write something so bizarre it couldn't be aired?
Is this how the articles start? ‘[☆] Spark’s I-wol, what does he usually look at... Controversy over vocabulary choice.’
As I trembled with anxiety, Lee Cheong-hyeon whispered to me.
“You knew this?”
“Huh?”
The center of Lee Cheong-hyeon’s board was a blank white space. It was the same for Song Min-il.
So, the current situation was...
Regardless of my desire to deny reality, the final verdict fell from the MC’s lips.
“‘Sinecure.’ That is correct!”
Wait a minute.
I don’t want to be the final winner!
Edit... Please edit this out! You guys were planning to use this as an edit point anyway!
I screamed internally. Naturally, my silent cry reached no one.
Thanks to the exploits of the clueless TOEIC Speaking master, Kim I-wol, the production team was thrown into a dilemma.
However, no one could stop the recording. This was because the tens of thousands of idols who had been waiting endlessly for a winner to emerge burst out from all directions—half out of a desire to congratulate me, and half out of the sheer joy of finally being able to go home—creating a grand ending scene.
If the staff had tried to say something like, “This was just a practice question!” at this point, they would have had to face the fierce glares of every idol there.
Consequently, I ended up wearing the Royal Examiner's Flower Crown while receiving congratulations from all the idols, including Berion.
That wasn't all. Lee Cheong-hyeon took the board where I had written ‘Sorry guys’ and added the word ‘Not’ in the middle before shoving it back into my hands.
I gave a short acceptance speech, torn between whether I should be happy about winning or amazed that Lee Cheong-hyeon had actually come in—albeit tied—for second place, just as he’d predicted.
In the car on the way back, Lee Cheong-hyeon was bouncing off the walls with excitement.
“It’s a crying shame I can’t tell the members the result. When did they say the broadcast was?”
“There’s still some time left, I think.”
“We definitely have to watch it together. You’re watching too, right, Hyung?”
“What are you talking about? We have to prepare for the album. And that includes you.”
“Yeah, no. There’s plenty of time to watch this one thing.”
Lee Cheong-hyeon didn't back down for a second. Whenever I tried to get another word in, he’d hold up Manager Chan-yeong’s phone and block my mouth by telling me to look his way so he could take a photo. Unless I learned how to curse through ventriloquism, it was a battle I was destined to lose.
“How’s the work progressing? Is it going well?”
I chose to change the subject instead.
“The sketches are done. But Hyung, are you really not going to play the bass for me?”
And I was back in a predicament. Lee Cheong-hyeon poked his face between the passenger and driver’s seats.
It had been quite a while since Lee Cheong-hyeon first asked me to play bass for his song. His reason was that he wanted to layer in a real session instead of virtual instruments.
‘You can just hire a session player.’
‘I want to credit it as “Bass by Yiwol” on our album. Don’t you know what a huge selling point that is, Hyung?’
Despite being rejected every time, Lee Cheong-hyeon was persistent.
‘I even showed the A&R Team your self-produced content videos. They all said this is more than enough to record!’
‘Who on earth did you learn those kinds of behind-the-scenes tactics from?’
‘Consulting experts from you, and covertly bribing people from Ju-woo Hyung.’
These kids were only learning the weirdest things from each other. It was getting hard to tell anyone not to go to anyone else’s room. They were all strange; who was I supposed to warn whom about?
“I’ll think about it once I buy my own instrument.”
“That means you’re not going to do it.”
“I said I’d think about it.”
“As if. I’ve never seen you spend money on yourself.”
Lee Cheong-hyeon sneered. Well, he had a point. Even back in the day, I played the bass my sister bought me.
‘You’re in college now. Don’t be so pathetic, just going from home to school and back. Join a club or something. Isn't there anything you want to do?’
‘No.’
‘Don’t make my blood boil. Just say one thing.’
I had truly meant it when I said there was nothing. And then my sister hit me on the shoulder. My sister never hit me on the back, where others would casually swat. She’d always felt sorry for my back, ever since we were young.
Feeling my heart soften in turn, I had blurted out, ‘...I guess I’d like to try being in a band.’
The next thing I knew, we were at an instrument district. Before I could even say a word, I was holding a white bass that had caught my eye even before we entered the shop.
‘If you can’t even take your eyes off it, don’t lie to me. If I see this posted on Hongdangmu Market, you’re dead.’
With those words, my sister left, saying her morning half-day off was almost over.
How could I not play a bass like that with everything I had? It was even my very first hobby.
“No. I really might buy one.”
“When?”
“Once I save up some money.”
At my words, Manager Chan-yeong, who was driving next to me, chimed in.
“Can’t you easily afford a bass? You’ll get another settlement next quarter anyway.”
“Ahaha, I have to save up an emergency fund too.”
I don’t have to spend money on food or housing right now, but you never know what might happen in life.
Until the day I reclaim my small, precious studio officetel, I will remain frugal.
Chuseok, the great national holiday, dawned. Baek Hae-won’s house had been bustling since the start of the long weekend.
It was great not having to go to school.
But she hated having to tour the entire country to meet all sorts of relatives!
At least it was a relief that her grandmother’s house had two TVs. One would be occupied by the adults watching dramas or holiday song festivals, but the TV in the inner room was usually for the kids.
And kids these days didn't watch TV. She had never been so glad that her younger cousins were part of the smartphone generation.
After making small talk with the adult relatives in the living room for a while, Baek Hae-won slipped into the room when she saw the early drinks being served. It was almost time for ‘A.Dan.Un’ to start.
She’d already seen all the crumbs, spoilers, and commute photos, but she couldn't miss seeing her boys exercising through the high-definition cameras the broadcasting station bragged about.
Baek Hae-won herded her younger siblings into a corner of the room like a flock of sheep. The siblings, focused on their phone screens, were pushed aside without resistance.
Just as everything was ready, including a plate of persimmons her mom had peeled, Baek Hae-in walked into the room.
“Hey, let me watch some soccer.”
“Get lost.”
Baek Hae-won didn't even blink. Her aura was like that of a commanding general.
“Today’s match is f— I mean, it’s really important.”
Her mother’s son, who was about to spit out a curse word, caught the eyes of the younger ones and softened his language.
“Do I look like I care? Finders keepers on the remote.”
Baek Hae-won waved the remote.
“If you’re that desperate, go ask the uncles to watch soccer. I’m sure one of them wants to.”
“The living room is currently in the middle of a Trot festival.”
“My condolences.”
Baek Hae-in scratched his head. Ugh, gross. Whenever he did that, Baek Hae-won wanted to deny the reality that such a primitive human was her family.
“How about futsal instead of soccer? They’re doing futsal on ‘A.Dan.Un’ this time.”
“What’s the point of watching idols play futsal?”
“Well, I have to watch my younger brother’s idols play basketball, so I can’t give you the remote. Too bad.”
“Aw, man.”
Baek Hae-in groaned, confirming her unwavering resolve.
After a moment of disappointment, Baek Hae-in asked.
“Then Kim Han... right, he said he changed his name. Kim I-wol will be on it too, right?”
“Of course. Want to watch?”
Baek Hae-won offered without much expectation. To her surprise, Baek Hae-in actually sat down.
As an idol fan, it was only natural to want to show off your idol’s cool side to others.
The kind of photos that make even non-fans save them, or the six-second clips that keep you trapped for an hour.
Spark’s entrance scene more than lived up to Baek Hae-won’s expectations.
“Ah, Spark is insane!”
When her boys, standing at the end of the Group D line and looking two heads taller than everyone else, were caught on screen, Baek Hae-won finally understood what deep abdominal breathing was.
Choi Je-ho’s nose bridge, which looked sharp even when he was the size of a matchstick, and Lee Cheong-hyeon’s features, which immediately drew the eye whenever they graced the screen, gripped Baek Hae-won’s heart and shook it.
“Look how cute Gi-yeon is.”
“Where’s the cute kid?”
“Shut up if you can’t recognize it.”
This clueless guy was always raining on her parade. Anyone could see their Gi-yeon was the cutest thing in the world.
However, I-wol, Baek Hae-won’s one-pick, looked a bit unfamiliar.
Usually, when I-wol was among the others, his face was so pale it was almost transparent, making him look non-human. But today, he looked like a fairy who had been issued a tourist visa to the human world and had come to play officially alongside Park Ju-woo.
Why? Is the lighting bad?
Just as Baek Hae-won was thinking that, Baek Hae-in said something similar from beside her.
“Didn't his face get a bit tanned?”