Chapter 333
Chapter 333
Keun Se-jin had also come up with his own theories regarding Park Moon-dae’s "secret."
Among them were a few that, while unrealistic, seemed to make a fair amount of sense.
‘Is he Park Moon-dae’s older cousin?’
He had speculated that the Park Moon-dae he knew was actually an older person who, for some reason, was using his younger brother’s identity.
Of course, whenever he tried to figure out the why, his reasoning would spiral into the absurd, and he would quickly abandon the thought.
‘He said he’d tell me.’
And in the middle of that conversation, hadn't he accurately pinpointed Moon-dae’s oddities and received confirmation from the man himself?
Still, because he had spent so much time entertaining all sorts of wild guesses, his theories had once even jumped to the conclusion that Moon-dae was a spy from North Korea.
The memory loss, the desperate drive for results, and even the way he manipulated public opinion—it all fit perfectly.
Of course, he had laughed it off immediately.
‘What is this, a drama? A spy? Really?’
But now, Park Moon-dae was saying something even more unrealistic than that.
—I am not Park Moon-dae, and I came back from the past.
It was the kind of thing a cult leader would say.
A cold sweat broke out on Se-jin's back.
‘What?’
Dreams… aren't dreams usually like this?
Without realizing it, Keun Se-jin reached behind him and pinched his thigh.
‘Ah, damn it.’
…It hurt.
Meanwhile, Park Moon-dae continued speaking.
“…My original name was Ryu Gun-woo. I was a student preparing for the civil service exam.”
“…….”
“The video call you saw yesterday was with that body. The original Park Moon-dae is in there right now.”
Keun Se-jin struggled to respond calmly.
“Ah… really?”
Really? What kind of "really" was that?
He needed to think properly before reacting, but his mouth was just running on autopilot.
Keun Se-jin stood still, trying to grasp Park Moon-dae’s intention…
“Yeah. If you want, I can even set up another video call right now. Want to check?”
This was driving him crazy.
“…Um.”
Keun Se-jin felt faint. He was at a total loss for words.
At that moment, Park Moon-dae, who had been watching his stunned expression, gave a bitter smile.
“You can’t believe it.”
“…!”
“Well… I figured as much.”
Moon-dae spoke as if it were no big deal.
“That’s why I kept putting off telling you. I don’t have any visible evidence. It’s all just my word.”
However, his body language said otherwise.
His friend was breaking out in a cold sweat.
‘Ah….’
Keun Se-jin felt dizzy. Yet, paradoxically, his mind snapped into sharp focus, as if he’d been struck by lightning or pressed against ice.
Was the Park Moon-dae he knew the type of person to spout nonsense in a situation like this?
‘No.’
Absolutely not.
This was the guy who had performed at a concert with a cracked rib as if nothing were wrong, the guy who had diligently handled his schedule even when he couldn't sleep due to unsettling dreams.
He had never seen anyone live as intensely as Park Moon-dae.
And unless he was completely misreading the situation, his friend was being sincere right now.
“I knew you’d suspect I was mentally ill. So…”
“No.”
“…….”
Keun Se-jin moved his legs and walked over.
He sat down across from Park Moon-dae, with the table between them.
“I’m listening. Tell me everything, slowly.”
“…!”
A flicker of emotion passed over Moon-dae’s face, following a brief moment of surprise.
A smile.
It was a short-lived sense of relief.
“Shall I?”
Moon-dae’s voice became a bit more natural.
“Then… to start from the beginning, I woke up as Park Moon-dae a few months before Aju-sa.”
The story that began then unfolded a narrative Keun Se-jin knew well, but from a completely unexpected perspective.
The circumstances behind Park Moon-dae’s participation in Re-listing! Idol Inc. and his subsequent rise to success.
Of course, there were parts that were incredibly hard to swallow.
“I was told I’d die if I didn't become an idol.”
“Mmm.”
When Moon-dae mentioned instructions appearing in mid-air, Keun Se-jin clamped his mouth shut, the thought of mental illness resurfacing.
‘Was that… schizophrenia?’
Se-jin wasn't particularly knowledgeable in that field and had never looked into it, so he couldn't be sure, but fortunately, he was able to suppress that impression quickly.
Because no matter how he looked at him, Park Moon-dae didn't seem to be suffering from delusions of persecution or losing his grip on reality.
More than anything, he didn't want to harbor such suspicions about Moon-dae right now. It felt wrong.
So, he simply listened intently.
Offering light acknowledgments along the way.
“Right.”
“Mm, I see.”
He even threw in a joke.
“So, is that why you got close to me and A-hyun? Because we were successful in the future?”
There was a bit of a sting to the question, though.
Moon-dae looked at him with a slightly more relaxed expression and chuckled.
“I didn't even plan on getting close, but you were the one who kept lumping us together.”
Moon-dae explained that back when he was a civil service student, he had heard of some of the debutants, but Keun Se-jin and Seon A-hyun weren't among them.
“Ah.”
It wasn't the right time for such thoughts, but he felt a bit of joy.
In the end, whatever the truth was, it meant that Moon-dae resolving the incident with his edited smoking photos had been an act of pure, genuine goodwill.
‘That’s actually funny.’
Even while listening to such an unrealistic story, he was still immersed enough to care about things like that.
In the meantime, Moon-dae’s story moved past their debut and into TeSTAR’s promotional period.
And among the details, there was something so unrealistic that it actually felt like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place.
“There’s another guy who came back to the past before me.”
“…!”
VTIC’s Cheong-ryeo.
“……Cheong-ryeo did?”
“I guess you’ve decided to stop calling him ‘Sunbae-nim.’”
“What ‘Sunbae’ in this industry? Seriously….”
So that guy really was a lunatic.
Moon-dae briefly explained that Cheong-ryeo had returned to the past and glossed over how he had threatened Moon-dae to get information about the future, but Keun Se-jin read between the lines.
He saw Cheong-ryeo’s lack of common sense.
‘…Is he a psychopath?’
He wondered if Cheong-ryeo had actually intended to kill Moon-dae in a fit of rage if he didn't provide the future knowledge.
A chill ran down his spine.
But Moon-dae’s attitude was strangely lenient.
“He’s mostly come to his senses now, so don't worry.”
It wasn't just a "reporting him would hurt us too, so let's let it go" kind of tone.
It was that specific brand of tolerance Moon-dae showed toward those in his inner circle.
‘…So they share the same experience.’
Keun Se-jin suppressed a brief surge of resentment.
In truth, his sense of reality had long since exceeded its limit; this was a moment to move on rather than argue.
Besides, the next bombshell was waiting.
“And about Cheong-woo Hyung… he’s my relative.”
“…!”
“We’re from the same Pungsan Ryu clan. It turns out we’re more closely related than I thought.”
As if another puzzle piece had been fitted, the situation became even clearer.
Why Moon-dae had been wary of Ryu Cheong-woo, and why they had become close so rapidly after becoming roommates recently.
And that time the two of them went out.
“…You went out to meet Ryu Gun-woo.”
“…….”
Moon-dae didn't explicitly mention his parents or Ryu Cheong-woo’s accident, but the structure was complete enough with just that.
‘So that’s why Cheong-woo Hyung….’
Was that why his attitude toward Moon-dae had changed so noticeably lately?
All the circumstances aligned. Ultimately, Keun Se-jin emotionally accepted Moon-dae’s excuse of having been "caught."
Furthermore, Moon-dae made sure to explain the next person.
“I only found out about Bae Se-jin Hyung because it was Chuseok. I was at his house, remember? I don't know the details of his situation at all.”
“…….”
By that point, Keun Se-jin began to feel a slight sense of shame.
‘It was nothing, and I was just….’
The explanation he had heard from Moon-dae was unrealistically hard to believe, yet it possessed a clarity born from deep anguish.
Keun Se-jin could easily imagine how anxious Moon-dae must have been to tell him this impossible story.
‘I shouldn't have done that.’
He murmured honestly.
“…I’m sorry. For pressuring you.”
Moon-dae chuckled.
“You had every right to. It’s been forever since I said I’d tell you.”
After that, Moon-dae’s experiences continued to be laid out.
In reality, Moon-dae omitted things he didn't necessarily need to mention, like the daydream in the coma or certain truth verifications, but the content was still vast.
Throughout it all, Moon-dae remained serious, and it was clear he was trying to answer Keun Se-jin’s questions sincerely without dodging anything.
He didn't show the typical signs of someone exaggerating or lying… like obsessing over useless details or repeating the same words.
“…….”
Thanks to that, Keun Se-jin found himself completely absorbed in this unrealistic tale.
And before he knew it, the story had flowed to the most recent events.
Moon-dae briefly returning to Ryu Gun-woo’s body.
“…And so, I returned to the moment we were winning the Grand Prize and had to give the acceptance speech. That’s why I suddenly forgot the choreography.”
Having summarized the end, Moon-dae finished speaking with a look of relief.
“That’s… my ‘situation.’”
“…….”
Keun Se-jin looked at Moon-dae.
Then he stood up and brought some water. Moon-dae didn't refuse, taking the plastic bottle and bringing it to his lips.
Keun Se-jin silently organized his thoughts until Moon-dae had emptied nearly half the bottle.
‘What do you think?’
What did he think? He was confused as hell. It was a situation he couldn't possibly understand… a story so unrealistic he wondered if it could even be true.
‘Even dramas aren't this extreme.’
He had been immersed because of the speaker’s attitude, but his brain was telling him something else.
As Moon-dae said, there wasn't a single shred of visible evidence.
But….
“I get it now. You put it off because you thought I wouldn't believe a word of this, right?”
“…….”
“Moon-dae really does know me well. But… you should have known this, too.”
Keun Se-jin grinned.
“I’m also really good at believing what Moon-dae says~”
“……!”
Was it realistic that Keun Se-jin had successfully debuted as a top-tier idol, performing in front of tens of thousands of people on tour?
If he had known the future six months before Aju-sa, he probably would have inwardly mocked whoever told him and brooded over a reality that seemed to have no hope.
But he had done it.
‘I did it with him.’
To Keun Se-jin, that was perhaps even more unrealistic.
So, he stopped smiling and answered seriously.
“It’s always been like that. So I’ll do the same this time. I believe you, Park Moon-dae.”
“…….”
Keun Se-jin added jokingly.
“Besides, whenever I believe you, the results are always good. All the members say the same thing, you know? You should have been less competent if you wanted me to doubt you.”
At that moment, Moon-dae laughed.
“…Thanks.”
Moon-dae finished the remaining half of the water.
Keun Se-jin pretended not to notice that the hand holding the plastic bottle was trembling slightly.
Instead, he realized once again just how absurd the story he was accepting really was.
‘Well, there goes my sleep.’
He felt like he’d be plagued by all sorts of thoughts and deductions all night, but Keun Se-jin didn't let it show.
Then, Moon-dae started sharing his own thoughts.
“As you probably realized while listening.”
His friend, who was now crushing the plastic bottle, hesitated before muttering.
“I didn't originally intend to be an idol. You might be disappointed.”
What on earth was this guy talking about?
“Are you an idiot, Park Moon-dae?”
“What?”
“You love being an idol so much, yet you’re saying stuff like ‘I didn't originally intend to~’?”
“…!”
“Who here said they were going to be an idol from the very start? If you did it to survive, that’s perfectly fine. More than fine.”
Moon-dae wore a uncharacteristically blank expression.
“More importantly, what about your name? Should I call you Gun-woo? Gun-woo-Gun-woo?”
As if he had said it specifically to gross him out, Moon-dae actually shuddered.
The atmosphere lightened.
“Forget it. I’ve lived like this for years.”
“Right. It’s only because we’re from a survival show, but these days everyone uses stage names anyway. Park Moon-dae is your name, too.”
“…….”
“Right, Moon-dae-Moon-dae?”
“…Sure.”
Keun Se-jin just grinned.
Actually, he felt a sudden impulse to ask if Moon-dae had heard absolutely nothing about him before coming back to the past, but he held it in.
‘It probably wasn't good.’
Without Moon-dae, he definitely would have voluntarily left the show due to the school violence controversy… and even if Moon-dae had known about him, it likely wouldn't have been pleasant news.
So instead, he said this:
“Thanks. It must have been hard to talk about, but thanks for telling me.”
“…….”
“Honestly, when you were about to say, ‘There are words in the air that only I can see~,’ you felt dizzy, didn't you? I could see how embarrassed you were… Whoa!”
“Shut up.”
“Haha!”
Dodging Moon-dae’s hand, Keun Se-jin laughed heartily.
That day, Park Moon-dae and Keun Se-jin shared a long conversation before heading to bed to stay in condition for the concert.
“So how old were you originally?”
“…I was 29 right before I came back.”
“Oh~ Should I call you Hyung? Hyung-nim?”
“Forget it.”
“Wow… right. As expected of a pro idol, being young is better than being treated like an elder… Whoa! Dodged it this time!”
“Tch.”
Most of it was trivial chatter. But there was a strange feeling in hearing personal stories that had never been shared before.
“…Moon-dae-Moon-dae, you’re from a top-tier university! Isn't it a waste?”
“It’s not a waste. It’s not like it’s money.”
Moon-dae looked comfortable.
Because of that, Keun Se-jin didn't have to regret getting angry at his friend over nothing anymore.
Though there wasn't a drop of alcohol, the conversation flowed well, concluding with the creation of a deep foundation.
It was a newly built layer of trust.
*
And the next day.
Performing on a stage without the lingering awkwardness of the previous day, Keun Se-jin recovered his original flair.
‘Nice, nice!’
After showcasing a brilliant ad-lib flanked by Cha Yu-jin and Seon A-hyun, he finished a spectacular encore and came down humming.
And just as he was about to look for Park Moon-dae.
“I see you two made up well.”
“…!”
Keun Se-jin turned to look at the group’s leader, who had briefly tapped his shoulder.
Ryu Cheong-woo was wearing a small smile.
‘It was obvious.’
Keun Se-jin immediately bowed his head.
“Hyung, I’m so sorry! I was a bit much these past few days, wasn't I?”
“No. You were fine. I just saw it for myself… I was just being nosy, worrying if things were hard for you two.”
“…….”
Nosy?
Come to think of it, the call time for today had suddenly been pushed back by three hours last night.
He had thought it was due to a schedule adjustment.
“Don't tell me, pushing back the call time was….”
“Yeah, well… everyone agreed we should recover our strength.”
They had been considerate enough to give the two of them time to talk comfortably.
“…Thank you.”
“We’re in the same group. We have to adjust for each other like this if we want to last long. Everyone agreed to it immediately.”
Ryu Cheong-woo smiled. Keun Se-jin was momentarily speechless.
It was because he had thought no one was as sincere as he was about putting in the effort to ensure this group lasted as long as possible.
‘…I was worried that once we got more years under our belts, everyone would just drift away into individual activities.’
Keun Se-jin admitted that might have been a bit of an arrogant thought.
Ryu Cheong-woo continued.
“Se-jin, Bae Se-jin was the one who suggested it first. He was really worried about you two.”
“I’m glad to hear it’s been resolved. Ah, there he is.”
Following Ryu Cheong-woo’s nod, he saw Bae Se-jin talking to Park Moon-dae, who was holding a towel, next to the steel structure.