Overseas Reality Filming Trip (2)
'Good call spending those coins to boost my language skills.'
I didn't even need to dip into the coins I'd earned from Jua noona's pregnancy. I figured I didn't need to be fluent like a local, so I splurged a generous 50 coins on the gacha and hit some solid jackpots, jacking up my abilities pretty nicely.
'Not quite smooth-talking level, but my ears are definitely wide open now.'
Before heading overseas, I'd racked my brain about what I needed to prep. Bottom line: language. Nail that, and you'd win major brownie points with the locals. Made activities a breeze, too.
So that's what I went for. No interpreter needed—I could hear everything crystal clear. The first foreign language I unlocked wasn't what I expected, which threw me for a loop, but the thrill of understanding it outweighed the surprise.
'Of course, that doesn't mean I can just brush off everything the women say.'
I'd always found it burdensome when women stared as they passed by on the street. Gotta stop thinking that way from now on. Compared to this, that was nothing.
Marenchino women didn't just stare—they went full aggressive.
'Fucking gross.'
That woman who'd straight-up asked how much we cost? Straight prostitute-buyer mentality. The kicker? We didn't look like the type who'd do that kinda work at all.
'Is this what racial + sexual discrimination feels like in a gender-reversed world?'
First time facing real discrimination, and my head was spinning. But it wasn't just them. Even folks who didn't peg us as hookers weren't exactly friendly.
"What country you from? What's your name?"
"Where you live?"
"Here for fun? Wanna hang with us?"
"We'll make it fun! Got good stuff too."
"Wanna step over there and chat real quick?"
They hit us up in every way imaginable. Hell, some even pretended to ask directions from us foreigners just to force a convo.
The production crew panicked at first, then scrambled to get things under control.
"We can't shoot like this. Should we call the cops?"
"How the hell did pre-scouting miss this?! No word about thugs like these roaming around."
"B-but it wasn't like this during scouting..."
"No guys with the scouting team, right?"
"Nope. Our team's all women."
"Damn, no wonder."
The crew hadn't anticipated this because no men tagged along for scouting.
"Are all the women here in heat or something? Cameras are right there, and they're still going wild!"
"What if a crime happens?"
"Ugh, don't jinx it!"
As the crew's worries piled up, the members' faces filled with anxiety and fear. Tattooed, pierced delinquents swarming them constantly? Totally understandable. Even I, with my low fear of women, found these ones intimidating.
'Still, their looks are killer. Hard to get used to thugs with faces like that.'
I'd done my homework on Marenchino—famous for its beauties—and it wasn't hype. Every one was a stunner.
'Gorgeous women spewing trash talk... Pissed off or flattered? No clue.'
Back on Earth, I'd have yelled "challenge accepted" and dived in. But my teammates, true to this world, huddled like rabbits among predators, eyes darting warily.
Obviously, no footage like this.
"Famous spots shouldn't be this bad..."
Pavelo, the city born from a landslide. A massive river cuts through it to the sea—that's the big draw. Where river meets ocean: Pello Falls. Stunning scenery, but that emerald water hooks you instantly.
The crew had dreamed of filming rookie male idols frolicking there, laughing giddily. Now, facing roadblocks from the jump, they sighed.
"This budget—we can't stop here."
"Just push through?"
"Can't without more security from HQ."
"Kids are freaking out. What now?"
"Get 'em to the hotel, calm 'em down. Can't shoot with those faces."
Decision made: Pello Falls was a must. Reality cams had to capture it.
"Lunch at the hotel, then Pello till sunset. Crowded tourist spot—safer. Back before dark. Extra guards during lunch. Don't freak."
"Okayyy."
"Yep!"
"...This'll be fine, right? Scary..."
"No worries. We'll handle it."
Male idols scared of female attention? End times.
I'd chickened out like the others at first, but as things calmed, I toughened up for the kids.
"What're you scared of? Stick with the crew—they got you."
"Exactly. We'll protect you. Just follow us—no issues."
Crew jumped on my cue, soothing the members. After tons of coddling, they relaxed and piled into the van to the hotel. I led, they followed.
Still, women's stares—blatant, sticky—lingered.
"Shit."
"What's up, noona?"
"Car tailing us."
Relief in the van shattered. Just a glimpse, and they're chasing to the hotel??
'This is... legit creepy.'
Beyond gender—pure stalker shit. Even I, with endless love for women, drew the line here.
No drivers among us, so road manager Lee Youngju gripped the wheel, eyes huge, scanning as members peered out.
"Post-debut, shrug this off."
"...Sasaengs, right?"
"Yeah, this is tame. They block roads, raid dorms like clockwork, send dolls with cams, baked goods with spit or period blood."
"......"
"......"
What the fu—?
She kept dropping bombs casually, ignoring our shock.
"Later, even chatting with friends gets dicey. Info brokers sell deets."
"Eek, scary."
"How do people live with that?"
"Company handles it, no?"
"They try. But sasaengs are smart. And not just fans—colleagues too. Real danger. Build trust, then tank you."
"How?"
"Drugs."
"Gasp!"
Drugs. Chaos overseas, spreading here too—especially showbiz. Rumor had it, debut and temptations hit quick.
"Male idols especially—tons of bad apples. More success, more sabotage from jealousy."
"Cameras rolling—okay to say that?"
"Crew's ours. But stay sharp—fans spot everything. One slip, meltdown."
"Got it!"
"Yessir!"
"Obviously."
Vroooom!
"Eek!"
"Belts on?"
"Even then, rollover kills us!!! Too risky!!"
"Haha! Trust me. Hold on tight, kids!!"
VROOOOOOM!!!
Gyaaaah!
Shaking the tail got wilder. Screech—skid! Vroom!
"Whoa!"
"Sliding—ack!"
"I'm a driving specialist!! See? Lost 'em! You noobs are all the same. Heh heh heh!"
Lee Youngju shook 'em off.
'Stomach churning.'
Veteran road manager—landed at Honey Enter on driving chops alone.
"Ditching papps and sasaengs? Daily grind. Rookies ain't shit."
She ditched the shady car clean, drove normal to the hotel. We recovered from motion sickness quick, cheering as we spilled out.
"Ugh! Fresh air! Feels great. C'mon out—nausea's gone."
Stretching, gulping air—murmurs rose. Women's stares again.
But hotel front—no aggressive approaches.
"Phew, breathing now."
"No pushy ones here."
Hours flying, no sightseeing, straight van. Hotel: first real Marenchino views.
Crew beat us, cams rolling.
"Straight in? No look-around?"
Jeki, leader mode, asked. Members bummed.
"Most of us first time abroad—wanna see everything."
"Not now—risky. After lunch, maybe. Hang tight."
Members whined cutely. I stepped back.
'Male aegyo? Kill me now.'
Didn't wanna group with those cuties—pure guy instinct.
A single photo dropped in a Marenchino online cafe. It blew up the place.
Flawless visuals on every guy—no weak links. Starved women's radars locked on.
But no info payoff. Foreign pre-debut male idols? No way for locals to dig it up.
The photo teasing Marenchino folks. Thought it'd fizzle—then new upload reignited the fire.