Chapter 397
Chapter 397
The filming set of Wise was in the middle of practice.
The trainees seemed deathly serious, focused solely on the finals, but that didn't mean there wasn't plenty of talk going on beneath the surface.
Specifically, about which of the lower-ranked participants would survive.
—Who are you going to vote for?
—I don't know. I'll decide when the time comes.
Even though it was a secret ballot, the producers would subtly probe them during interviews.
—Have you made up your mind yet?
One participant from the Lower Class gave a standard answer like, "I'm thinking hard about it," but in reality, he felt the decision was already made.
They’re telling us to pick two people, so what’s there to think about?
Usually, it was only difficult if you had to pick one person to fail and one to pass. But since they could vote for both their first and second choices, it wasn't hard at all.
You just have to exclude the guys you don't want to vote for.
First off, one guy had already been tacitly disqualified.
—What, you son of a bitch!
Ugh.
Who would want to be in a group with a bastard who snaps and tries to hit people while they're eating?
The participant nodded to himself, completely unaware that Shin Jae-hyun—knowing a physical assault scandal would break three years later—had meticulously orchestrated everything from the guy's behavior to the spread of the news.
So, after naturally excluding that one person, three remained.
And excluding one more from that group was even simpler.
The person he was least close to. Someone he didn't know well. Someone with zero experience as a trainee.
The one who had been added most recently to the Supplementary Class.
Ryu Cheong-woo.
He’ll probably be fine on his own anyway.
The participant wasn't friends with the former national athlete who received a pension, nor did he feel any sense of kinship with him.
Then I just vote for the remaining two, and I'm done.
The existing trainees had already made up their minds to pick the two unremarkable ones they were already acquainted with from practice—the ones they’d feel slightly guilty about dropping.
Since the candidates themselves could also vote, and those two were already close, they had already set the mood between them.
That’s how it’ll go, I guess.
Just as the participant reached that conclusion and was enjoying a sweet, lazy moment of slacking off...
Click.
The practice room door opened, and voices drifted in.
“…That’s why it’s so hard to decide who to vote for.”
“That’s true.”
They were familiar voices.
Oh.
In that instant, the participant lying down behind the practice room's sound equipment realized he was hidden from view.
The voices of Ryu Gun-woo and Jung Woo-dan continued their conversation.
“Do you have someone in mind?”
“Well… are you going to vote for Ryu Cheong-woo, hyung?”
“For now, yeah. You?”
They spoke casually, seemingly unaware that anyone else was there. The Lower Class participant found himself eavesdropping.
“I’m thinking of Da-hwan hyung.”
“Ah.”
Kim Da-hwan was one of the two people the participant had intended to vote for.
Since they were discussing the very topic he’d just been thinking about, the participant held his breath and focused intensely on the conversation.
“I like him. But it feels like the dance positions are a bit oversaturated.”
Ryu Gun-woo paused for a moment, then spoke more freely, as if remembering there were no cameras around.
“It doesn’t matter to us. We’re vocals.”
…!
Positions?
“Yeah. If someone talented joins and the average skill level goes up, it’s a win for us.”
“Right. But the CEO is the one who has to worry about that kind of stuff.”
Ah.
The two then agreed to vote for each other’s choices and left the seemingly empty practice room.
“Everyone’s not here yet.”
“It was too early. Then, for a moment, let's go to the other…”
Thud.
The door closed. However, the participant was left in a state of agitation.
The dance positions were oversaturated?
“…That’s right.”
It was true. Among the remaining participants, there were only four in the vocal position, including those two.
Considering the only one left in the rap position was that scary-looking guy from the Supplementary Class, the dance position was indeed overcrowded with seven people.
And at the very top, there was the monster Shin Jae-hyun and that Cha Yu-jin from the Supplementary Class who had appeared out of nowhere…
…There’s no room.
The ratio was nearly double. The participant, who was also in the dance position, swallowed hard. Moreover, the other comment weighed on his mind.
—The CEO is the one who has to worry about that kind of stuff.
The members weren't being chosen solely by viewer votes; the CEO was picking them.
Given the CEO’s personality, he would obviously consider position balance when making his selection. If that was the case… it was truly dangerous.
“…….”
Biting his lip at the sudden sense of crisis, the participant felt the pressure.
When given a choice, people inevitably rationalize the option that benefits them most.
Especially when the massive prize of a debut is dangling right in front of them.
The conclusion came quickly.
…It’s only right to get rid of as many competitors as possible. I’m not an idiot.
—The elimination candidates in the dance position have to go.
He hesitated for a moment, then made up his mind, quietly slipped out of the practice room, and ran down the hallway.
Ryu Gun-woo and Jung Woo-dan, who were sitting in the vocal practice room across the way, watched him go.
“He really came out.”
“Yeah.”
“Were you certain this would work?”
“Yeah.”
Ryu Gun-woo smirked. There was one thing he was certain of.
His own standing.
Among the participants, he had the highest public recognition, buzz, and skill—plus the CEO’s high appraisal.
It’s hard for a fellow contestant to ignore that.
It wasn't the power of friendship, but the power of hierarchy and authority.
Because it was different from personal likability, direct persuasion might have triggered a defensive reaction, but a detour worked perfectly.
People believe it more when they think they’ve analyzed someone else’s words and figured something out on their own.
In reality, "position saturation" was something that could be ignored if a group decided to focus heavily on one area, but the participant wouldn't be able to think that way once he was rattled.
Of course, Ryu Gun-woo had no intention of explaining that much, so he simply said:
“I’d bet money the atmosphere will have changed by tomorrow.”
“I don’t usually fall for such uncertain gambles, but I’ll respect it as a courtesy to the key player.”
“…….”
Ryu Gun-woo fell silent. Ju-dan admired him briefly before resting his chin on his hand.
“How many more times do we have to do this?”
“Just once more, with a slightly different script.”
“Will that be enough?”
“Rumors will spread anyway. The remaining trainees are all in similar positions, so they’ll try to band together. You saw him run off.”
Since TeSTAR and VTIC had already claimed the vocal positions, the remaining dance-position trainees were in the same boat.
They would share this strategy among themselves. They needed meaningful numbers, and since they were all in similar situations, they would communicate well.
Then, even if those votes are split, Ryu Cheong-woo only needs about a third of them to be in the safe zone for passing.
There were already six of them—the members of VTIC and TeSTAR who had regained their memories.
Since they had already secured half of the final lineup, this would be enough.
Ryu Gun-woo shrugged, and Ju-dan nodded quite seriously… in agreement.
“You seem to think a lot about human psychology. I do that sometimes, too. It’s quite an interesting habit.”
“…….”
Ryu Gun-woo didn't bother responding and decided to move on to explaining the next target.
Meanwhile, beyond the hallway where they had looked away, something Ryu Gun-woo hadn't predicted was happening.
“Whoa!”
“Ack!”
“Are you okay?”
And he moved immediately.
“Wait. Don’t move.”
Ryu Cheong-woo reflexively handled the situation as he had been trained during his athlete days.
“Does it hurt here?”
After checking the pain in each area:
“It looks like the muscle is just shocked. You don't need to worry about a serious injury.”
He reassured the trainee based on his own experience. He even went to the nearby lounge, found a spray-type pain reliever, and handed it over.
“Use this.”
“Ah… yes. Thank you.”
And then he left without trying to strike up a conversation or offer unsolicited advice.
It was a small kindness that could have been treated as a mundane occurrence. The kind of thing Ryu Cheong-woo would always do.
However, the situation was a bit special.
“…Hmm.”
The participant, who stood up after spraying the pain reliever, thought about it evaluatively.
He was calm, seemed broad-minded, and was quick to act. He wasn't a former national athlete for nothing.
If we’re in a team, he’s someone I could rely on.
And… he was a vocal. There was no need to compete over positions.
Come to think of it, if he wasn't going to vote for Kim Da-hwan, who was a dancer, the remaining candidates were Ryu Cheong-woo and that loser who couldn't control his temper.
A very sensible emotion began to rise.
…Rather than voting for that anger-management-impaired loser, wouldn't it be better to pick someone who knows how to play on a team?
The participant slightly modified the sentences he was going to use to probe others about the vote. Then, he walked slowly down the hallway toward the dormitory.
*
A few days later, the long-awaited final broadcast.
—Wow, finally.
—Ah, I want to watch it, but I also don't want to ㅠㅠ Will the kids be okay?
—They said it’s going to be super fun, is it true?
While viewers were glued to the live broadcast, unable to overcome their curiosity, the CEO himself announced the survivors from the lower ranks.
In order of the most votes received.
[With a total of 11 votes, this is the survivor who will join the final stage.]
—Wow, that’s overwhelming.
—With that many votes, it’s probably one of the original trainees?
—Da-hwan?
Amidst the light speculation, the voting screen flashed on the VCR, and the person was finally confirmed.
[It is Ryu Cheong-woo.]
[…!!]
Ryu Cheong-woo became the first to pass, sweeping 11 out of 12 votes.
Excluding the one vote from the person at the bottom who was essentially facing elimination, it was practically a clean sweep.
—????
—11 votes for Ryu Cheong-woo?
—Is this even possible?
The viewers were baffled, but they accepted it after seeing the other participants clapping with smiles, showing no signs of agitation.
—Ryu Cheong-woo must have a great personality.
—I guess being a social butterfly really makes a difference.
—Did they not get along at the agency? ㅋㅋㅋ Amazing.
However, Park Moon-dae was actually a bit taken aback.
What the?
He hadn't expected Ryu Cheong-woo to sweep the votes like this.
I expected maybe 8 or 9 votes.
Then he realized.
That guy doesn't make empty promises.
—I’ll take care of getting the votes myself.
Ryu Cheong-woo had truly been confident in his own reputation.
It proved that his confidence wasn't baseless; he would have easily taken second place even if Moon-dae hadn't intervened.
…He’s a guy with good instincts.
After all, hadn't he been a leader as naturally as breathing back in Idol Inc.?
It must have been similar this time.
Park Moon-dae happily accepted his miscalculation.
Ryu Cheong-woo gave a serious acceptance speech, his face slightly flushed, before stepping back.
[As much as my colleagues have trusted me, I will show a performance worthy of the team on today’s final stage.]
Park Moon-dae, in the form of Ryu Gun-woo, willingly applauded his leader.
Then, as another vocal-position trainee was called, the two eliminated participants were confirmed.
It was a cold reality, but since they were already at the bottom of the rankings, it didn't cause a massive stir.
—Oh no ㅠㅠ
—They should have let them perform, this is cruel.
—They’re all still young, so I hope they debut somewhere else!
After a brief pause to let the viewers grieve appropriately...
[Yes I am!]
The final stage began.
Thanks to the four lower-ranked members practicing two different formations for the same parts, the 10-man performance flowed seamlessly.
Naturally, the viewers poured out the kind of emotional reactions typical of a survival show's finale.
—ㅠㅠㅠㅠ
—Please let them all debut.
—Tae-in, it’s not too late. No, CEO-nim, the leader of K-pop, the Hand of God, please.
—Tae-in, please make a sensible decision, please.
Ten people aren't even that many; people cried, saying that groups with over 11 members debut all the time these days.
It was because there didn't seem to be anyone worth cutting.
However, the face of CEO Kim Tae-in, sitting in the judges' seat, was unreadable.
Just as the viewers were pouring out curses, resentment, and jokes...
Suddenly, the camera panned to the back. And there was a face… familiar despite the mask.
—???
—Hey, just now.
—Lee Se-j;n
—Isn't that Lee Se-jin?
A handsome man stood with his arms crossed in the front row of the standing area, not even in the VIP seating.
—Crazy.
—Hey, why is Lee Se-jin there?
—Heol heol heol, it really is him.
—?? Is Lee Se-jin under LeTi?
└ As if ㅋㅋㅋㅋ
Lee Se-jin.
In this world, he was the actor Bae Se-jin, who had not yet changed his name.
An actor famous for having very little media exposure and working like an ox only on movies had suddenly appeared in the audience of a male idol survival show's finale.
Naturally, a frantic wave of reactions exploded instantly.
From the moment the camera director and PD recognized Lee Se-jin, he began to appear on screen quite frequently.
[Who can be a STAR?]
Every time he was caught for a second or two between stage shots, comments about Lee Se-jin alternated with passionate cheers for the trainees.
It was because his reactions were so visible.
[The Talent that crosses the stage, that’s mine]
Whenever someone was caught on screen, his eyes would widen as if he were nervous, or he would swallow hard.
—He’s cheering for Ryu Gun-woo.
—He is.
—He seems to like Cha Yu-jin too.
—Lee Se-jin likes talented people. Me too.
—With that lineup, isn't he just a fan of visuals? ㅋㅋㅋㅋ
Even the viewers who usually hated shots of the audience found the appearance of the mysterious actor quite entertaining.
—It’s so transparent who he’s cheering for.
—Shit, why is his acting so bad in real life? ㅋㅋㅋㅋ
—That’s why he’s so good at playing psychopaths. He gets so hyper-focused on one thing that he can't see anything else.
└ ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ
That small bit of fun soon subsided, but it had the effect of drawing considerable attention as it spread across social media in real time.
—Is this the male idol survival show that even Lee Se-jin watches?
—Who should I cheer for? Tell me quickly.
—What is this? A survival show without text voting? What’s the fun in that?
With the influx of viewers for the final episode, the finale finished its two performances and prepared to enter the climax.
And there was one more element that could never be missing from a climax.
Empathy and tears.
The method to elicit this element was already standardized.
[Surprise letters for the trainees]
A warm, middle-aged voice echoed from the electronic display on the quiet stage.
[??: Our Yoon-shin, are you doing well?]
It was their families.
“…!”
Bae Se-jin, in the standing audience, almost grit his teeth.
…No way.
Short, edited video calls and affectionate recordings passed by, though not for every single trainee.
No way.
Bae Se-jin didn't know the 'real' family history of Park Moon-dae—currently Ryu Gun-woo—in great detail.
However, seeing his honest reaction whenever the topic of parents came up, it was impossible not to know. That Ryu Gun-woo’s situation wasn't much different from Park Moon-dae’s.
…How is it here?
Since they had never talked about that topic, Bae Se-jin broke into a cold sweat, looking back and forth between the screen and Ryu Gun-woo on stage.
And when he saw Ryu Gun-woo standing still without any expression...
[Gun-woo. Are you doing well?]
The screen turned black, and Ryu Gun-woo’s name finally appeared.
[These people sent an email all the way here to have a call.]
[A letter from the Antarctic Base]
Comments flooded in.
—Whoa, are both of Ryu Gun-woo’s parents researchers?
—Antarctic Base? That’s so cool;;
—I knew he was smart for a reason. He’s from a legit elite family ㅠ
—So jealous, he’s a silver spoon.
Ryu Gun-woo had his head slightly bowed.
At a glance, he looked like he was listening intently, moved by his parents' voices, but to Bae Se-jin’s eyes—having lived and worked with him for years—the emotion in his gestures was clear.
He’s holding it in.
Bae Se-jin clenched his fists.