Chapter 31
Chapter 31
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: Genius Idol's Entertainment Conquest Strategy
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After completing the Sudden Quest, a linked quest popped up just as expected. It instructed me to memorize the song within the time limit, and the reward was the same as before.
'This quest... how far will it keep showering me with rewards?'
The end of this honey-reward chain quest. And what my Charm stat would be by the time I reached it. My heart was racing just thinking about it.
This quest had a pretty generous time limit. About a full day.
'Maybe because I don't need to solve it as quickly as last time?'
Still, with vocal practice scheduled for tonight, I didn't slack off. Instead, I used the old-school MP3 player—borrowed from Han Da-hoon—that only played music, looping TOXIC during every spare moment.
After a intense practice session, I was eating in the cafeteria while listening to TOXIC when a familiar-faced trainee struck up a conversation on his way to return his tray.
"Whoa, On Raon, the center?"
"Yeah, that's me."
"You're moving up in the world!"
The guy had an earbud in one ear, just like me.
Come to think of it, compared to the last camp, way more trainees had brought these MP3s this time.
"Hey, don't leave food behind. Eat up."
"Even my parents don't nag me like that."
Kim Jun-woo was passing by, meddling unnecessarily, with a small MP3 in his hand.
It wasn't just "more"—every trainee walking by had one.
'No way... was I the only one without?'
That explained why Han Da-hoon had looked at me weird when I borrowed it. Like, you don't even have one of these?
Even if I'd known we could bring personal ones, I wouldn't have been able to afford it anyway... but it still felt like a loss.
Anyway, with the song fully memorized, lacking an old music player wasn't a big deal.
I had all the song info in my head already. Who needs an MP3?
'This time, around 50 plays?'
Every time I succeeded after that many loops, I thought the same thing: shouldn't anyone memorize it by now without even trying?
It felt like a possession buff sometimes... and not others.
Not a loss, but not a huge gain either... nice to have, but not essential...
"What're you mumbling about?"
Ban Yo-han asked.
Oh right—this guy's been next to me. I'd forgotten, half-asleep from exhaustion.
I mumbled back vaguely.
"Deep thoughts on things that leave you feeling empty without them."
"Like me, for example?"
"Hyung, you're crazy?"
My 100% genuine retort to his ridiculous, nose-pinching nonsense made even my drowsiness flee momentarily—and bam, the filter kicked in, right on cue.
Damn. I'd been holding back from saying it out loud all this time!
You sly fox making me curse, Ban Yo-han.
'Whoa, that just rhymed hard.'
A bit further along, the shock wore off, and sleepiness crept back with every step.
"I feel like I'm gonna pass out..."
"Fall asleep here, and I'll leave you behind."
"Hyung, if you were even half as cool as your vibe suggests."
Ban Yo-han, walking beside me, ignored me like he'd heard something unworthy.
I was used to him only reacting when it suited him by now. Damn guy.
Just before, we'd crammed into the cramped vocal room—too small for seven—and sung until our throats were raw.
Someone who saw me sing first said my pitch, rhythm, and timing were perfect, but the emotional control felt like a broken android.
No denying the truth.
Thanks to memorization, my technical skills were near-perfect, but my emotions—still developing depth—couldn't keep up, creating that disconnect.
Still, by the end, no one said it anymore. I'd improved that much. Was this... talent?
"You thinking something weird right now?"
Sharp guy.
Anyway, now we were heading back to the dorm after finishing the day's schedule.
Teams generally shared rooms.
But with 7-8 per team, not everyone fit in one room, so some shared with other teams.
No choice for us trainees, of course.
Just go where production assigned us.
And our team? Me and Ban Yo-han got paired. Of all people.
"You unhappy rooming with me?"
"I hate guys as perceptive as you, hyung."
I said it in a meaningful tone, like that mad scientist from some manga.
Ban Yo-han, of course, wouldn't get the reference.
Hell, I knew over a hundred lines no one in this world would understand—not just him, everyone.
Ban Yo-han stopped in front of our door, paper with our names taped on it. He turned, about to drop a soft-voiced sharp jab, and I thought the unequal banter was over.
"Well... when it comes to sharp instincts, you're no slouch either."
"..."
"Sometimes feels like you read my mind."
"Hahaha."
"Haha."
This guy's scary for real.
"Raon, Yo-han, hi."
We opened the door, and Nagase Ritsu—who'd roomed with me last time—greeted us warmly in Japanese, mid-chat with same-agency Noma Haruto and Azumi Ren.
"Ritsu, Ren, Haru—welcome back."
In Japan, you usually call people by their family name like 'Nagase' for Nagase Ritsu unless super close, but the kids didn't mind, so we used first names. Anything longer got shortened, like Haruto to Haru.
"'Welcome back'? Guys, it's 2017."
Ban Yo-han, who'd said that, ended up sleeping on the floor with a mat for nitpicking during this camp.
"That's karma, justice served, good triumphs over evil."
The three Japanese trainees didn't catch my Korean but got the vibe—good for us, bad for Yo-han—and clapped in agreement.
After chatting a while, we showered one by one and prepped for bed.
Ban Yo-han, floor-bound rep, waited by the door for roll call.
As staff knocked on the next room, he asked me,
"Where's your hometown?"
Seemed random at first.
"Uh, Busan?"
I barely knew myself.
"Didn't book a dorm when you came up?"
Probably about last time.
Persistent guy.
My school and agency were in Seoul, so I must have some place there.
Problem was, I didn't know where.
"..."
Instead of a irresponsible answer fitting some brainless punk from Busan with no dorm plans,
I laid my head on the pillow and let the system-forced sleep take me.
Day two flew by in a blur.
Chaining linked quests leveled me up, but I skimmed even the notification. Rumors of a big fight in another team? Whatever. I was that drained.
Day three's practice was in a big room.
Not just our team—with the rival team competing on the same song. Their only standout was Kim Jun-woo as leader.
Like yesterday in the auditorium, but packed together like this, you could clearly feel them eyeing us.
"First-formed team's Team 1, later one's Team 2, I guess."
"Then we're Team 1."
"Shouldn't we name our team?"
"We'll decide later."
No special instructions from production, but gathering both teams... and the timing...
Felt like a surprise lesson today...
"Hello."
Sure enough, Muk Hye-seong—living in his own world in so many ways—pushed open the door.
But he wasn't alone.
"Hello!"
"Whoa. Hello!"
Following him was a man in his late 30s with [Joo Yeon-ho] floating above his head.
In my memory, Chronicle's main vocal and leader? Yeah?
"Hello. I'm Joo Yeon-ho, leader and main vocal of Chronicle. Nice to meet you."
Yup.
Joo Yeon-ho's first impression was the total opposite of Muk Hye-seong.
Soft, approachable, with decent humor. At least on the surface.
Staff set up a simple desk and chairs. As Muk Hye-seong and Joo Yeon-ho sat with a polite "Thank you," the pressure hit.
"Greetings done. Team 1 first. Dance and vocals together."
"No nerves—just show what you've practiced."
This sudden?
I'd guessed, but our Muk teacher skips intros entirely. Doesn't he know they ease tension?
Team 2 hugged the wall; we took center and formed up.
Han Da-hoon beside me inhaled a shaky breath.
Staff started the music.
Our team, first formed of all, had no major weak links or slackers.
Still couldn't figure why they picked me, since they didn't seem to like me much.
That was our weakness.
We weren't close enough for synced breathing.
Probably never would be.
Except Ban Yo-han, who'd endured Muk with me, and Han Da-hoon, who opened up fast—the others weren't thrilled with me and wouldn't be.
Yo-han was my closest here. This team's doomed.
Still, we faked teamwork, hiding the solo vibes.
Organic sync aside, nailing this in a day was solid.
Nothing to get roasted over, I thought.
Opponent's Muk Hye-seong. No room for complacency.
Gotta stay sharp before verbal hits...
"Hah... huff..."
"Young kid like you... drink some water."
Joo Yeon-ho pitied my dazed self and handed over the desk bottle.
No refusing—barely thanked him and chugged.
I wanted to collapse. Dumping stat points into Charm left my low-20s Stamina wrecked after one full live like this.
Heart Attack was tougher—lower stats, solo intense choreo and vocals from start to finish.
But immediate pain hits hardest.
I was dying right now.
As I caught my breath, Muk Hye-seong's feedback began.
"As center, shouldn't you have more of your own flair?"
Detailed facts flew logically at me too.
I was used to his style and my understanding rose easily, so it didn't faze me. Even squeezed in questions for extra insight.
But trainees like Ji Yeon-woo, who'd only faced him in mentor evals, looked outright gloomy.
Kids, lighten up. Teacher only drops blood-and-flesh advice. Sure, we'll shed some bones and meat in the process, but think of it as rebirth—you can endure.
Joo Yeon-ho, who'd stayed quiet, finally spoke after even low-part Ban Yo-han got critiqued.