Chapter 398
Chapter 398
Ryu Gun-woo did not look back at the electronic display. However, words continued to flow from it.
[Our Gun-woo, you said you wanted to be an idol, but Mom and Dad had no idea you were appearing on a program like this and showing such a cool side of yourself.]
Seriously…!
Why did broadcasting stations across every generation never change, always preferring such primitive, low-level stimulation?
Bae Se-jin gritted his teeth under his mask. Regardless of his frustration, baseless speculations like "Ryu Gun-woo must be moved" spread rapidly through the comments.
[Make sure to debut so we can see your face. Fighting, our son!]
Ryu Gun-woo kept his head down, his hands clenched into tight fists. To Bae Se-jin, the display seemed to transition with cruel slowness.
Sigh…
After a short message left by Shin Jae-hyun’s mother passed, a touching BGM softly washed over the set, and the CEO began his commentary.
[Please tell us how it feels to see these messages from your families while standing here on stage.]
The camera zoomed in on several participants as they took the microphone one by one.
Kim Rae-bin, sniffling with teary eyes, looked quite pitiful yet cute, but the real issue was the moment the microphone finally reached Ryu Gun-woo.
Ryu Gun-woo held the mic with both hands and remained silent for a duration that was barely permissible for a live broadcast.
Only then did he open his mouth.
[…Thank you.]
He bowed deeply, then lifted his head with a fairly resolute expression.
However, his voice betrayed his agitation.
[I will… make sure to debut and show you… a good side of myself.]
Whether the greeting was for his parents or the public was unclear, but because he seemed to be trembling with emotion, the reaction was positive.
Aww~!
Exclamations of pity and adoration filled the air.
But Bae Se-jin, who knew the truth, felt conflicted.
He looks like he’s struggling.
It might look like he was biting his lip out of overwhelming emotion, but in reality, he was likely suppressing sadness or shock…
…Wait.
Hold on.
Bae Se-jin snapped out of his sentimentality and looked at that expression again objectively.
Park Moon-dae was biting the inside of his lip.
That was just pure, unadulterated teeth-gritting.
To put it bluntly, it was an expression of being absolutely livid.
“…??”
I think… he’s pissed off to the high heavens…?
On stage, Ryu Gun-woo stood straight, his eyes burning.
For reasons unknown, his eyes were seething with motivation.
Thanks to that, regardless of Bae Se-jin’s confusion, the final proceeded smoothly.
The CEO announced the list of successful candidates—a list he believed he had decided after careful deliberation with officials, but which had actually been steered by the influence of someone who knew the future.
One by one, the names were announced with appropriate suspense.
[Shin Jae-hyun.]
Every time a name was called and a trainee gave their speech, the crowd cheered.
Ryu Gun-woo, Jin Chae-yul, Jung Woo-dan, Cha Yu-jin, Oh Yoon-shin…
[I worried a lot about this friend, but I placed great value on how much trust he earned from his colleagues in such a short time.]
Even Ryu Cheong-woo.
When the count reached seven—a perfect odd number—people began to worry if this was the end, and the light of hope died in the participants' eyes.
It was a truly priceless experience!
Or rather, that was the case for everyone except Kim Rae-bin, who was already swept up in the lingering emotions of the journey.
The CEO lingered on the silence, pretending it was dramatic, before announcing the final additional member.
He had intended to keep this one for the next group, but after the "Orchestra Collaboration," he couldn't suppress his greed for the group's level of perfection.
[Kim Rae-bin.]
[…!?]
[He is the final member of the group.]
Kim Rae-bin, who almost jumped out of his seat, nearly grabbed the microphone upside down. He was the only one caught completely off guard, like a bolt from the blue.
[I-I-I-I am? ………Yes!]
The sight of Kim Rae-bin’s fierce features turning soft like a steamed bun brought a big laugh, and the announcement concluded on a touching note.
Half VTIC, half TeSTAR.
It’s a tie.
The leader of VTIC, who was called first, felt a brief sense of amusement as he recalled his bet with Park Moon-dae.
So, to conclude, the Wise final was a success.
The two additional eliminations brought regret and pity, but the prevailing opinion was that the CEO had made a fairly good selection.
In fact, to be cold about it, people were even saying he had trimmed the fat well.
It was only natural. It was a combination of idol members who had already been proven once before.
[The idol survival show being called a legendary lineup]
[The final list of winners for the LeTi survival show that just ended]
[The new group name for Wise has been released]
However, on the stage where flower petals fluttered and firecrackers exploded, Park Moon-dae of TeSTAR, who had finally made a decent start…
His mind was still boiling with cold fury.
That son of a bitch.
It was because he had reached a certain conviction.
I checked the chicken gifticon the guy had attached. Just as I was about to send a reply saying I would do so…
A pop-up slid into view.
[Hyung… are you okay?]
I answered calmly.
“I’m not okay.”
[ ]
The pop-up froze as if unable to type a single word. I knew what he was speculating, but the reason I wasn't okay wasn't because of that.
It was because of the rage of being hooked by a bullshit stunt.
“It’s a lie.”
[…Pardon?]
“The part about my parents being alive is a lie.”
To think I fell for such a mockery.
I continued to mutter, ignoring the pop-up that was vibrating crazily and spitting out typos.
“It doesn’t add up.”
There were too many logical flaws.
“In the first place, if calls aren't possible but emails can be received, it means the internet is working.”
If so.
“There’s no need to insist on a voice call. A recorded video or a request for a video call would be better.”
No matter how slow the internet is, is it really possible they couldn't even send a single photo?
After a pause, a very cautious response came.
[Couldn't it be that your parents refused to reveal their faces…?]
“That’s the excuse they’ll use. But that’s not the only thing I’m suspicious of.”
I turned off my smartphone.
At first, I couldn't deduce anything because of the shock, but the moment I saw the display mention 'A letter from the Antarctic Base' earlier, a thought occurred to me.
“Were my parents actually researchers?”
[!??]
“In my head, I naturally accepted it as true, but for that to be the case, I have no memories related to my parents' workplace at all.”
It’s not like they would suddenly stop being researchers the moment they stepped into the house.
“At the very least, there should be some impression of their workplace left, but it’s just that they went to work and came home.”
Like a setting tacked on at the very end.
“It’s not normal. Not at all.”
The pop-up was silent for a while, but soon poured out small text.
[Actually… I had a similar question. Being a researcher is a stable job. But it didn't seem like you had inherited much money, hyung…….]
“Exactly.”
I suspected that too. Being a researcher is a high-income profession, and I have no memory of them blowing it on gambling or stocks, yet I inherited almost no assets.
And the fact that I never even questioned that until now.
“So… there’s a high probability that the parents being researchers at an Antarctic Base here is a lie.”
[….]
“It was fabricated.”
I don’t know what the System did while it was running wild, but it seems it planted the 'researcher' premise in me to make me accept it naturally.
Since it even wiped my memory of when I met the real Park Moon-dae, it could probably manage that level of suggestion.
“But it doesn't seem natural enough to be without discrepancies.”
[…Because you noticed it voluntarily just now, hyung?]
“Yeah. If I met them in person, the discrepancy would be obvious, so they purposely sent them to Antarctica so I couldn't see them.”
And they probably blocked all visual information entirely, fearing I’d feel an even greater sense of wrongness if I saw photos of my parents as researchers.
The pop-up distorted.
[That is so despicably mean.]
It’s not like the System hasn't pulled bullshit before; there’s no point in being surprised now. It just feels like shit to have been baited like this.
And it pisses me off even more that it messed with someone else’s memories.
Especially… these memories, of which so few remain.
No, let’s not get sentimental. There’s no time for that.
I continued my deduction, and Keun-dal busily shared his own thoughts.
[Then… then this place definitely isn't the past, right? Is it like a dream? Like that daydream I made.]
“I’m not sure about the latter, but the former is certain.”
I muttered quietly.
“Seeing as people who are already gone in reality can't appear, it’s not a complete return to the past.”
All the settings were a mess from the start anyway.
[…….]
“It might be a good thing.”
The motivation will certainly be there.
[Hyung.]
I made a decision.
I didn't bother hiding these facts from Cheong-ryeo and shared them with him.
About the incompleteness of this place.
The guy, who was sitting in the waiting room of the filming set that would soon be demolished, listened intently to my words and then commented without much agitation.
“In the end, our goal hasn't changed. Right?”
“…That’s true, but we need to be more cautious when making choices.”
I frowned.
“If there are errors in memory, we might make the wrong choice at a critical moment.”
No matter how small it might be.
A trivial point that seems like nothing could change and cause a butterfly effect.
I need to check periodically to see if anything feels off.
However, Cheong-ryeo had an indifferent face.
“Junior. It’s fine as long as you remember the information necessary for progress correctly. Memories are bound to be distorted the more they pile up anyway.”
“…….”
“What you should be wary of… are the side effects caused by memories.”
What?
“Emotions.”
“…!”
“As long as you have information, logic, and judgment, you won't make mistakes. There’s nothing particularly wrong to choose. In the end, you just have to pick one.”
He declared.
“The goal.”
“…….”
“Right?”
“Yeah.”
I didn't think I’d ever say this, but talking to this guy seemed to clear my head a bit.
I declared through gritted teeth.
“We win the Grand Prize as fast as possible and get out of here. That’s the goal.”
“Junior, you seem to have a habit of stating the obvious twice.”
Shut up.
I straightened my posture and sat down.
Let’s get straight to the point.
“First… about our debut concept.”
The smirk on his face faded slightly. I crossed my arms.
“VTIC’s 1st album concept was for world-building, right?”
“TeSTAR won't be much different.”
“I don’t know. Our digital chart rankings are high.”
“Haha, spoken like someone from a survival program that hit double-digit peak viewership.”
He’s basically saying we wouldn't have dreamed of those rankings without the survival show.
“…Anyway, yours was for the mid-to-long term, so wouldn't it be too niche for a short-term goal?”
“I don’t know. The reaction overseas was definitely good.”
…Was it? I might have taken photos of male idols, but I never felt the need to watch their debut music videos or analyze their outfits.
“What exactly is the concept?”
“The afterlife.”
“Cough.”
I almost choked.
I managed to respond.
“That’s too much.”
“Haha, saying that to TeSTAR?”
“…….”
“Nothing is too much if the investment is sufficient. What matters is the quality.”
“…….”
[That’s exactly what you used to say, hyung….]
Yeah, I know, so be quiet.
“Besides, aiming for public appeal at this time isn't a very good strategy anyway.”
Cheong-ryeo continued, tapping his chin.
“LeTi has traditionally had good support from the overseas K-pop fandom, so we should target that side.”
“Overseas?”
“Yes. The English-subtitled version of Wise uploaded to WeTube has quite good view counts. It’s the best report card I’ve ever received from a survival show.”
He smiled.
“Let’s stick with this, capture the overseas market, and base it on album sales.”
“Wait.”
Who said you could decide that on your own?
“If we just pick a good song, we can sufficiently get results domestically too. Isn't this still a time when male idols have decent public appeal?”
A few years later, it would be hard to expect success on digital charts unless you were a solid top-tier group, but isn't this a time when quite a few guys are still getting results?
“That’s exactly why it won't work.”
What?
The smile vanished from Cheong-ryeo’s face, replaced again by indifference.
“The efficiency is the worst.”
“…….”
“There’s already a group that’s enjoying all the public appeal there is to have.”
And I realized who he was talking about.
“…T-Holic.”
In reality, they were just veteran idols maintaining their group through variety shows.
We had even appeared on their variety shows before. An old group that filled their buzzword quota with variety sense rather than expecting much from music results.
But not now.
Here… it was the time when T-Holic was at their peak.
“Yes.”
Cheong-ryeo nodded.
“Our opponent is T-Holic in their prime.”