Chapter 4
Chapter 4
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: How a Prodigy Idol Conquers the Entertainment World
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To cut a long story short, the damn system shat all over me.
If I'd known Intelligence and Wisdom were used like this, I never would've dumped everything into Strength, Agility, and Stamina.
They must have some use somewhere since they exist, but I'm the idiot for not thinking and just smashing stats into physical ones.
I pulled up the Character Info window and gazed wistfully for a moment at the stats I'd poured into body attributes.
Thankfully, even this trash game had a shred of mercy—the attempt itself was possible every time I listened to a song from start to finish.
But the success rate was so abysmally low that it wasn't until dawn, when the pale morning sun tinged the dark sky, that it finally worked.
"Holy shit, finally!"
And then I got hit with another three-hour cooldown.
Damn it. This is why you don't set Intelligence and Wisdom to 10. This isn't me being dumb—it's the character who's dumb. Yeah, that's right.
Sure enough, I could vividly recall the overall melody and lyrics of the song I'd just heard.
This possession buff is pretty sweet.
Honestly, after looping it that many times, not memorizing it would be weirder... but whatever.
There's an Achievement system too, huh.
The reward gave me some EXP and cash, bumping my level to 3.
I figured I should be more careful with stat allocation, so I put it off and checked the Song List instead.
• Hello, World!:23.17%
Just that one measly entry. Pathetic.
But something even more pathetic came up next.
My HP, that's what.
With Fatigue clearly about to hit 100 soon and HP already down by nearly half, I freaked out and dumped all my stats into Stamina.
When I was raiding as a healer, I'd coolly ignore our DPS shivering and begging to be saved, letting them die even at half HP. But when it's me? Half HP is terrifying.
Then another alert popped up.
Willpower? Nice, Willpower.
I'm definitely grabbing the agency president by the collar when I get out of here.
According to the calendar app schedule, it was about time to head to the first filming location, but I looked pretty wrecked.
Showing up like this among the flower-like trainees, I'd stick out like a weed.
In several ways, I'd definitely catch eyes.
After leaving the unmanned cafe, I headed to the public restroom I'd scoped out on the way and scrubbed my face with icy water that stung like hell.
For the first time, I properly checked my face in a mirror—not the phone camera—and my feelings were complicated.
Not the shock from realizing my face had gotten ugly, but something else.
No matter how real it felt, this was a game, and this was my character's face.
Like most players, I cared most about my character being handsome or pretty. Whether it was a female or male char, if it wasn't hot, there was no fun in playing.
So in games with detailed customization, I'd spend all day tweaking, and in ones with limited avatars, I'd whale from head to toe until my wallet cried uncle.
Someday, this character would get handsome too, right?
Steel that resolve, I hopped on a bus to near the filming site.
Even on the rattling bus, I kept listening through the beat-up earbuds in my pocket.
Memorizing wasn't the end.
'Memorization' only grasped objective stuff like lyrics and notes, so singing at low proficiency percentage sounded like a robot, not a human.
Typical trash game move.
Still, listening bumped the proficiency bit by bit.
It rose faster when I hummed along instead of just passively listening.
• Hello, World!:55.27%
I got off the bus and walked to the studio—no choice.
Early morning, tons of black mid-size vans clustered around: bingo.
I trudged over to where cameras were filming the early arrivals.
Everyone had big luggage like they were going on vacation; I was the only one empty-handed.
And game-like, names floated above characters' heads for easy ID.
[Jing Xiao] [Ok Do-yoon]
The left guy's foreign, probably Chinese region. Idol game quality—3D models or not, both handsome.
I was getting bitter thinking of my original, way handsomer face when a staffer spotted me and beckoned like they'd been waiting.
Humming Hello, World! super softly so only I could hear, I waited a bit. The trainees ahead vanished inside, then staff called me.
I walked over, and the camera started rolling on me.
Idol thing: greetings. I snapped off a folder bow.
"Hello!"
"Hi there. Your voice sounds peppy, but you look exhausted. Sleep okay last night?"
Sweet noona vibes. Almost swooned.
But everything in this world was 2D pixels under 3D skin, so no heart flutters.
This was all happening inside a monitor.
People, scenery—all data of 0s and 1s. No plans to get too immersed.
"Yeah. I walked from way back, so I look a tiny bit tired."
Staff chuckled like they were buying it.
Laughing at this ugly kid's lame aegyo... Player privilege.
"No luggage?"
That jogged my memory of the quest reward list having a carry-on.
"Ran into an issue on the way, but an acquaintance is dropping it off before filming ends."
The system handles that much, right? Right?
Staff nodded with an "Ah, got it" face at my quick improv.
"How're you feeling right now?"
"Super nervous."
From rage at this trash game.
They took my curt reply as real nerves and nodded understandingly.
"One last word before you go in."
"I came alone, so I feel kinda lonely... I wanna get along with the other guys."
NPCs always love player chars. Some rebel, but usually they die, get purged, or reformed.
Staff burst out laughing like it was hilarious and nodded okay.
"It's cold—hurry inside. No luggage, so head straight that way."
"Thank you!"
"Why so happy?"
"'Cause I'm happy!"
Ah, finally entering the heated indoors!
The moment I stepped into the massive studio, grinning ear to ear, a system window appeared.
I pulled the suddenly appeared Student ID from my pocket and approached the staff desk checking entries.
"Hello. Independent trainee On Raon."
"Show ID or Student ID... Yep, matches. Face looks a bit different from the photo?"
'Cause my Charm stat reset to 10.
"C'mon, who looks exactly like their ID pic?"
"Usually ID pics look worse than real life, right? This one's way better looking than the photo."
Ouch, facts hurt. I know I'm ugly.
I cyber-laughed with soulless spirit, and staff laughed along, saying it was a joke.
Doesn't matter—your Favorability with me's already in the negatives. I noted the name. Choi Eun-jong, you.
"On Raon... Here you are. Confirmed. Hand over your phone—we'll return it after filming."
Powered it off and submitted as ordered, then got a full metal detector pat-down.
Already could tell the road ahead would be brutal.
"Wait in the lounge inside, follow staff instructions. Oh, hang your coat on that rack before entering. You watched last season, so you know the drill... Any questions?"
"Yes. One."
My serious yes drew a surprised look from the half-hearted staffer.
"Do we get food midway?"
He burst out laughing at my earnest question.
Funny? You think my sincerity's funny?
Me, nearly freezing to death right after possessing; surviving on one chocolate latte till dawn, stomach practically glued to my spine; yet up early for endless filming without end in sight—that's funny?
I tamped down the surging rage at his warm reply.
"No meals, but snacks come out midway."
"Thank you so much."
This show's my lifesaver. For real. Though it might be the culprit too—man up and don't dwell.
"Why so thrilled over this?"
"I'm at prime eating age."
"Aigoo."
With his send-off wishing me well like I reminded him of his son, I entered the lounge. Stashed the Student ID back in my coat pocket so I wouldn't lose it.
About forty or fifty trainees were already there.
Polygons have tiers? Not as many stunners as the handsome ones I'd seen outside.
Lots looked like average Joes—enough to wonder why they joined an idol show.
Not shocking, recalling trainees from my old agency.
Fill the gut at least—I mixed hot and cold water 1:1 in paper cups from the dispenser, chugged five, and felt full.
"Ahh."
Sweet. Like honey.
Makes me crave booze, but glancing at the Student ID, I'm 18 here—so two years minimum no drinking.
Just pray I escape this place before then.
Rubbing my water-bloated belly, I sat in an empty spot. Heater blasting warm—sleep tugged at me.
Fatigue dropped a smidge, notification said, as I nodded off...
Staff came around clipping mics one by one.
"Entry in 10 minutes."