Chapter 10
Chapter 10
Throughout the first shoot, not a single word had been uttered about the previous season, so I never dreamed they would drop it like this.
The comment section was already being flooded with things like "??!?" and "WTF." Young-rin continued speaking with a perfectly composed expression.
[To prevent a similar disaster, the production team has decided to grant all decision-making power entirely to the shareholders!]
As Young-rin spoke, the stage lights flickered on one by one with intense brilliance.
[The members? You, the shareholders, will choose them!]
[The number of members? You, the shareholders, will decide!]
[Want them to be in a specific team? You, the shareholders, will group them!]
[Or...]
The lights began to strobe like a dramatic stage effect.
[Do you absolutely hate seeing a certain member? Then kick them out!]
One particularly fitting comment caught my eye.
Amidst the chaos, Young-rin delivered her closing remarks with gravity under the flashing lights.
[The life and death of our company rests in the hands of the shareholders!]
[<Idol Inc.> is now officially re-listed!]
The camera panned upward.
On the massive star-shaped stage, lights shimmered like waves in the Milky Way.
And there, standing in the very center of the stage under the spotlight, were the backs of ten people. They were the Platinum grade participants.
The camera circled them from top to bottom, zooming in. Because the stage was so enormous, the zoom only managed to capture the ten of them in a full-body shot.
As soon as the camera stopped, the intro music began to play.
The participants turned around one by one as the camera captured their movements.
It was the solo part—a benefit of being Platinum grade—but honestly, the arrangement was so tight that each person barely got a second of screen time. It felt a bit underwhelming.
‘They should’ve just picked a center like the original show did.’
Watching my own cut flash by, a strange sensation washed over me.
It was definitely me performing the movements, but seeing Park Moon-dae’s face made it feel foreign.
‘Hmm, maybe that actually makes it feel less cringey.’
As the intro ended and the song kicked in, the Gold grade participants appeared around the Platinum group. Thanks to the power of editing, the transition looked seamless.
By the time the pre-chorus hit, the lighting shifted, and the Silver grade appeared from both sides. At the start of the chorus, the Bronze grade emerged from the back.
Then came the group chorus.
“Oh.”
It looked pretty good. They had masterfully edited out the moments where the choreography was out of sync, making the movements look perfectly disciplined.
Even the comment section showed occasional positive reactions, though most seemed bewildered by their own positivity.
Of course, they didn't forget to critique the participants whenever there was a close-up.
Naturally, there were moments of admiration as well.
These were mostly the reactions to close-ups of participants with an Appearance stat of B or higher.
Oh, Seon A-hyun’s close-up just passed. As expected, the camera naturally gravitates toward the good-looking ones.
...Wait.
I compared the participants getting close-ups with the reactions in the comment section.
“...Did I make a mistake?”
It would be a problem if the gap in initial buzz was too large.
‘Should I have made my Appearance an A first, regardless of singing or dancing?’
If my looks were top-tier, just one close-up during the theme song performance would have made me a hot topic.
If I had even a few "wait-and-see" fansite masters following me, they would have taken photos at events like the production presentation, and those would have circulated on social media.
If I had solidified a fan base there, the chances of avoiding early elimination would have been much higher.
As for skills, I have the status window, so couldn't I have just shown growth over time?
I had set that strategy aside because I remembered this season was initially mocked before skyrocketing after it started airing... but I had overlooked the fact that even mockery is a form of interest.
Feeling a chill in my chest, I turned my attention back to the screen.
Before I knew it, the performance was ending.
A few more close-ups flashed by during the ending.
The most prominent one was the child actor, Lee Se-jin. The camera lingered on him for several seconds, making the producers' intention to build pre-broadcast hype crystal clear.
Thinking back, more than half of the people I knew would eventually debut had Appearance stats of B- or higher when I matched their faces at the filming site.
It would be troublesome for me if the editing focused solely on participants with high Appearance stats.
Park Moon-dae had a decent look, but he wasn't a striking beauty.
Just as I was losing confidence and about to re-evaluate my strategy, the screen suddenly changed. It was a commercial break.
But then, a familiar voice rang out.
[<Idol Inc.>, Re-listing!]
The first teaser was coming out now?
Well, it had been over a week since the shoot ended, so they’d had plenty of time to edit this much.
I focused on the teaser, hoping to find a hint about the editing direction.
[I hope many talented kids show up.]
[I have high expectations.]
[Wait, even (Bleep) is coming out? The other participants should be nervous.]
It was a cut of the judges chatting and laughing. They seemed to be hitting all the cliché lines you’d find in a trailer.
Then, short clips of participants receiving praise appeared.
[That was... I can only describe it as an incredible performance.]
[This is pure natural talent.]
[Wow!]
[Where have you been hiding all this time?]
Oh, my rank evaluation clip flashed by. That eased my worries about being completely edited out. Only then did my shoulders relax.
I suppose I was overreacting because it was my first time being exposed to mass media.
Even if the initial battle for recognition is fierce, the field usually levels out by episode 4. I shouldn't be anxious; I should calmly refine my strategy.
Unlike me, who had regained peace of mind, the screen immediately shifted to the judges delivering harsh critiques with grim expressions.
[This... can't even be called a performance.]
[You know that’s just an excuse, right?]
[I think you were just unprepared.]
[Aren't you ashamed?]
Then, shots of participants with stiff expressions and biting their lips were layered over one another.
...Looking at the background, it seemed they even used shots of people just looking tired from practice.
Finally, they even showed a cut edited to look like an unexpected incident.
[Mr. (Bleep)? Mr. (Bleep), wait a second, just a...!]
[(A participant suddenly leaving their seat.)]
A close-up of the child actor Lee Se-jin crying appeared.
[(What is the full story?)]
The screen went dark, and the Idol Inc. logo appeared grandly.
At the climax of the distorted theme song, the logo vanished, and the MC’s voice was heard.
[The re-listing of the all-new Idol Inc.! The first hurdle is... the (Bleep) evaluation!!]
[Gasp!]
The teaser ended with the participants looking shocked, covering their mouths.
“...”
I looked down to see the comment section scrolling at an incredible speed.
And for good reason.
That evening, the comment sections of internet entertainment news sites exploded.
After finishing my workout, I logged onto a portal site while heating up dinner.
First, the headlines on the main page looked like this:
[<Idol Inc.> Prostrates Itself Before ‘Shareholders,’ The New Stock? ‘Boy Idols’]
[<Re-listing! Idol Inc.> Unveiled, ‘Just Me (Shining Star)’ First Reveal!]
[‘Please Invest, Shareholders!’ The Stage of 77 Participants in the New Season of <Idol Inc.>]
The titles were fairly neutral, but clicking on the articles revealed the true public sentiment.
Comments on entertainment news had been disabled for a while, but looking at the reaction emojis...
‘Absurd’ had over 12,000 hits. Since there was no ‘Angry’ button, people clearly pressed this instead, meaning public opinion was going wild.
Columns were also pouring out.
[Idol Inc., Vulgarity Masquerading as Freedom.]
[‘Please Buy Me!’, Children Turned into Stocks.]
I clicked on one.
[It’s no longer even ‘Please pick me.’ In a program that screams for you to buy idol stocks, the participants are no longer treated as human beings. This sadistic practice of handing over the power of life and death to the public...]
Yeah, I don't need to see more of that.
The majority of posts on internet communities and social media were also bashing the program.
However, the producers were likely cheering. It wasn't the participants being bashed, after all.
The failure of Season 2 was that the content—the popular participants—flopped.
But this season, that image was being overshadowed by the "sadistic" nature of the program that the producers had used as bait.
Whether the program's structure was overtly cruel or tried to act sophisticated, a survival program was going to be grueling either way.
From a participant's perspective, it might actually be better to at least grab people's attention.
Thanks to the program's buzz, posts like this were appearing.
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[Summary of the Platinum Grade in Aju-sa 3.]
: I took some screenshots from the MusicBOMB stage. I did this because I felt bad for the talented kids who ended up on a show like this, so please refrain from hate comments.
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The comments were mostly about participants who were handsome or had good expressions, but I felt a strange sensation when I saw Park Moon-dae mentioned a few times.
They mostly said he was cute or had the kind of face that’s popular these days.
“...”
It was a weird feeling. It was the first time in my life I’d seen people expressing such blatant interest in me.
I’d felt it back when I was selling data in college, but it was always fascinating how people could invest time and money into someone they didn't even know, simply because they liked them.
Maybe it was because I’d lived a life with neither time nor money to spare.
But now that I was the subject of it, it felt even stranger.
It wasn't a bad feeling, though.
‘...What should I do next?’
I suddenly felt an urge to move.
After scanning the overall reactions to the participants, I began to organize the priority of my future stat distribution.
That was when it happened.
[The Start of Fame!]
1,000 people have remembered your existence!
: Draw General Trait ☜ Click!
So I get notifications for this too.
I read the pop-up content with renewed interest. The ‘Draw’ at the bottom felt similar to the one from the previous performance-related pop-up.
I clicked it immediately, and a slot machine appeared.
This time, too, there were bronze-colored slots scattered among the gray ones.
I hoped for a trait that could quickly boost my Appearance or Star Quality. I waited for the slots to stop with more anticipation than last time.
And just as the slots were about to stop, another pop-up suddenly appeared.
[Slot Machine Great Success!]
: Drawing a Heroic Trait!