The Conditions for Becoming a Gentle Idol Leader - Episode 53

"Holy shit, it’s starting!"

One of Zero One’s fans, who had been waiting for this day ever since the lineup was announced, locked her gaze on the TV and gripped her phone and tablet in both hands.

She had debated whether she should even bother with a program that people wouldn’t shut up about across idol communities and social media, but in the end there was no helping it. This was her first survival show since getting into idol culture, and curiosity made it impossible to simply look away.

'Besides, things like this are way more fun when you’re watching with everyone online instead of by yourself.'

She tapped the ON AIR category she usually used for live watch threads, then turned her attention back to the TV. Posts from other viewers were already rolling in.

The opening was light enough. After a few groups’ pre-interviews and the usual shots of each company’s office building to show off their headquarters, the program moved on to the contestants entering the studio with tense faces.

But somehow, the groups that had already appeared seemed to flash by with no proper subtitles or sound at all. Was it just her imagination?

Just as she was starting to wonder, Zero One finally appeared. Unlike the three groups before them, they were the first to get something that looked like a proper subtitle.

Wait. Were they going to give the groups that came later even fancier subtitles?

Zero One’s members passed by one by one. In keeping with the “visual feast” subtitle, the camera zoomed in on each face as they came on screen.

She had been watching with almost reverent seriousness when the giant monitor behind them displayed the rankings and the seats assigned differently by group, and then, out of nowhere, a thunderbolt hit.

Of course the board was practically on fire, but when the familiar faces showed up again, the complaints died down for a moment.

First came Go Young-in, speaking with a slight smile as he chatted with someone from another group. Then Kyeon In-woo appeared, talking easily and without stiffness.

At a glance, they looked friendly enough to suggest they had real ties with the other group.

She had just been annoyed by the unexpectedly short screen time when Zero One showed up again, and somehow she felt herself calming down. Ah...

‘I did hear they were going to divide the screen time according to ranking...’

But it didn’t seem to be as simple as that. A lower-ranked group kept appearing over and over again, and she wondered if she had heard wrong after all.

She couldn’t exactly criticize another group, but just then one of the problem group’s members moved closer to Zero One and the screen caught him greeting them.

"What the hell...?"

Something felt off. He was saying he was happy to see old friends again, but the whole thing left a strangely sour aftertaste.

That was all the broadcast showed, but the pre-released NewTube video had been different.

Because there had also been the answer that continued, “We haven’t really been in touch for a while, so I guess this counts as a reunion after a long time,” and because of what Jeong Hae had once said on a live broadcast before debut—that he had deliberately cut contact afterward—there had already been a small controversy in Zero One’s fandom.

As a result, the people who had watched the pre-release video and the people who hadn’t were naturally reacting a little differently.

Back on screen, the studio view changed again.

After Jeong Hae’s line, Kyeon In-woo appeared on screen looking at him with an unreadable expression. It felt like the program had deliberately stretched the silence, because the shot of him not speaking went on for an unusually long time.

Normally it would have been something she could brush off as “Huh, weirdly close, huh.” But because of the earlier interview, it somehow felt even more unsettling.

Worse, right after Jeong Hae’s joke about why Kyeon In-woo wouldn’t answer his calls, the screen cut to the flat-faced Pyo Jae-ho and Lim Se-bin, who looked as though they had no interest whatsoever. The atmosphere only got stranger.

'No. He called out to Young-in, so why aren’t they showing Young-in’s reaction?'

[Awkward~]

[The lower and lower corners of their mouths during a painfully awkward reunion between the two groups]

'That subtitle is insane.'

When she checked social media for live reactions, Zero One’s fandom was, unsurprisingly, not reacting all that well either. Then again, there probably wasn’t a fandom among the groups appearing today that wasn’t upset.

It was even more infuriating because the stitching in the edit was so blatant you could see it from a mile away.

Then came the group-by-group ranking, the openly lopsided screen time, and the MC practically serving up content that might as well have been malicious comments.

Especially when the conversation turned to Zero One, he found himself opening social media without thinking and typing out curses.

For a fan encountering a survival program for the very first time, all of this made her head spin for a moment. So this was what everyone had been complaining about.

Go Young-in adjusted his posture once and forced his attention back to the screen. Screen time mattered, yes, but what mattered most was how Zero One would come across, and somehow things had ended up in this absurd state.

The beginning had been similar to the raw footage. The problem was that once Triple Shot—more precisely, once Jeong Hae—became involved, the editing direction of the broadcast started going strange too.

He had suspected it, but seeing the finished broadcast made it even more ridiculous. Everything from the direction to the dialogue made it obvious they were trying to throw shade.

They had cut out his own brief reciprocal greeting entirely, and they had also snipped away any ambiguous words from Jeong Hae’s lines.

Even Lim Se-bin’s and Pyo Jae-ho’s expressions had been spliced together from a fleeting look they had made much earlier.

On top of that, every nasty bit of provocation Yoo In-hyeok had spewed during the later self-introduction segment had been completely cut, leaving only the image of Triple Shot struggling to do something—anything—during those final few seconds.

'So that’s why he was talking so big. This was the ace up his sleeve?'

Given the off-camera expressions and remarks Triple Shot had shown all through filming, that sort of thing was possible—but Knet had actually bothered editing out the dirt for them? The same Knet that worked so hard to amplify every scrap of attention-grabbing garbage?

Thanks to that, from the broadcast alone, Triple Shot had somehow ended up looking like a group that couldn’t even introduce themselves properly because of a cruel countdown, and yet still refused to lose their smiles... some kind of concept like a poor boy-turned-head-of-household Jeong Hae and his friends.

One look was enough to tell that they were trying to push a pitiful image. Were they going after sympathy votes?

Come to think of it, Triple Shot had kept showing up on screen over and over again, even though the other groups were getting their screen time cut according to rank.

'Though most of it was just that bastard Jeong Hae in full shots.'

It felt like either something had been worked out with the PD, or the PD had simply picked them as a favored group. Either way, it wasn’t good news for Zero One.

Fuck. So that damned clause from last time’s shoot wasn’t just thrown in for nothing. I wondered what on earth they were going to tie us to, and this was it. They told me no event could be avoided and made a fool out of me.

'So it really was a notice. You insane status window bastard.'

Still, the one saving grace was that Zero One’s members had their mouths shut down every time they tried to speak, so the broadcast ended up stopping at the level of their expressions. If any of them had run their mouths like Yoo In-hyeok from Triple Shot, it would’ve gone out untouched. He could swear to that.

Take The Road, which had been interviewed before Zero One, for example: the broadcast had magnified the parts where they spoke with unhappy expressions, while the portions where they cheerfully said it was fine were cut completely.

Even without editing, they had already filmed it in a way that could easily make people feel bad, so to go out of their way to tweak it further and make it like this... insane.

Whether anyone liked it or not, Kyeon In-woo, who had spent the entire time watching the broadcast with a bored expression as if it had nothing to do with him, glanced at the awkwardly smiling Jeong Hae on the TV and then seemed to remember something. He opened his mouth.

"Go Young."

"Yeah?"

"Come to think of it, does Son Jeong-hoon ever contact you?"

"Son Jeong-hoon?"

That came out of nowhere. He wondered where he’d heard the name before, and then realized it was the name of another friend from the past, not the Kyeon In-woo from the memory he’d just ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠recalled a little while ago.

It wasn’t in his contacts... and he didn’t even know what the guy was doing with his life. Go Young-in shook his head and asked in confusion.

"He hasn’t contacted me separately."

At the very least, there had never been a message from anyone under the name Son Jeong-hoon.

They had once been close, but as the resets repeated, things grew more and more awkward, so even now he wasn’t sure whether he could still call them friends. He didn’t remember any private contact from him, so shouldn’t it mean they weren’t close anymore?

"And he’s doing that shit?"

Kyeon In-woo crossed his arms and gave a faint snort. What was this? It felt like he was missing something.

"What did he even say to you?"

"What are you talking about? He already said it a minute ago."

Kyeon In-woo said that while gesturing toward someone on the screen. Uh... the thing that was playing right now was...

Fuck. Jeong Hae?