Chapter 5
Chapter 5
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: Securing the Top Seat
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I eyed the microphone clipped to my clothes with newfound caution. From now on, I'd have to watch my mouth.
Fortunately, the filter would lift in about two hours.
...Was that really fortunate?
I couldn't pinpoint exactly where this possession had gone wrong.
Ten minutes later, the staff started calling trainees' names—sometimes one or two at a time, sometimes up to five.
The called trainees left the waiting room with tense expressions.
My turn was much further back than expected.
It felt suspicious. Why would they give a penniless indie trainee like me a late slot, one that drew more attention from the others, without any reason?
Still, even a little sleep had improved my condition somewhat.
With some rest under my belt, I dove into a new worry.
The song was sorted, but what about the dance? How the hell was I supposed to handle that?
I figured it might work like the song—if I watched a choreography video from start to finish, I could memorize it.
The problem was, my phone—the only way to access such videos—had been confiscated.
'Can't just stand there doing nothing, though.'
In a spot like that, doing something and bombing was way more embarrassing than doing nothing at all.
Truth be told, I didn't remember enough dances to perform one right away, so the decision was quick.
About thirty minutes later, when only a few trainees besides me were left, my turn finally came.
"Trainee On Raon. Get ready."
The eyes of the scattered trainees turned to me as I stood. I flashed a slight smile and exited the waiting room.
Following the staff's guidance, I received a large sticker name tag reading "Indie Trainee On Raon" and stuck it on my clothes.
Instead of heading straight in, I had to wait in a hallway lined floor-to-ceiling with mirrors until the previous trainee finished picking a seat.
Mirrors everywhere—perfect chance to practice some dance moves.
I glanced at the camera overhead, then tried the dance I'd been visualizing in my head while sitting in the waiting room.
"Pfft!"
A staff member off-camera burst into stifled laughter at my dancing. I didn't let it faze me.
It had been ages since I'd danced, so it started off clumsy, but soon my elbows snapped into proper angles.
I couldn't fathom why the proficiency started so high. I'd only just practiced it with my body for the first time.
How unusually helpful.
Putting it together: Intelligence boosts memorization probability, while Wisdom rapidly improves proficiency for dances or songs once memorized.
Of course, each stat might have other undiscovered bonuses.
And if Intelligence and Wisdom are too low, memorization might be impossible altogether?
Gave me chills, but thanks.
But no Charm boost?
Loyal as ever.
A bit later, while I was diligently practicing, the staff—who'd nearly died laughing earlier—signaled me to enter.
I bowed once to the enthusiastic audience and stepped inside.
Something must have gone down in there for it to take this long.
'Like a battle for the #1 seat, maybe.'
Stepping into the set bathed in intense, flashy red lighting, the tense atmosphere was palpable, just as I'd guessed.
As I climbed onto the stage, over 90 trainees rose in unison, greeting me sporadically with "Hello!"
"Hello."
I bowed in return. As they sat back down, I caught them whispering and glancing my way.
The set was structured like a pyramid, with higher-ranked seats elevated above.
A throne-like #1 chair in red velvet sat at the pinnacle, while the bottom row held chairs for 90th to 100th place.
Everything else aside, the heart-shaped backrests on every chair were a bit overwhelming—especially the #1 one.
Then, the screen announcing me as an indie trainee changed.
The new display showed my profile photo, name, and...
It seemed to show self-predicted ranks.
100th out of 100? Not 10th, but 100th?
This went beyond humble— it questioned my very will to participate.
Everyone shot me baffled looks, clearly thinking the same.
'Stare all you want; I didn't set it.'
I crossed the pyramid set with a calm face, pretending I hadn't seen it.
Seats 1st through 91st were taken, so I aimed for 92nd. No need to stand out by taking #1...
"......"
You've got to be kidding. Filming would take half a day at least—sitting here would have me carried out by the end.
I checked a few others, just in case. The 90s-range chairs were all the same. A quick peek at an 80s chair showed +8 Fatigue.
This was the system nudging me toward #1, plain and simple.
Bowing to the system's threats, I passed the trainee in 91st and headed back to the stairs.
As I strode up the central staircase without stopping, the trainees murmured "Ooh."
Some double-checked the still-displayed "Predicted: 100th" on the screen.
"He's going for it."
"No way. #1 incoming."
A few even stood to watch from a distance, fully committed to spectating.
Oh Hyun-jin from True Entertainment, lounging in #1, flashed a subtle smile and stood as I approached decisively.
Sitting in #1 didn't make you #1, but this guy's Polygon-level looks were no joke. Sleek and handsome.
"Hello."
"Hello."
Our faces filled the screens on either side in massive close-ups.
Staff had explained during the endless wait: First-come for other seats, but #1 allowed changes by mutual agreement—method free-form.
Quick question: With all my stats under 20, could I win anything against him?
Didn't seem likely.
No, there had to be something. Come on, mediocre Intelligence, do your job.
"How about an arm wrestle, man to man?"
But before I could think of a winnable contest, Oh Hyun-jin struck first.
With a faint smile, he thrust his fist toward my face.
Huh? What? Huuuh?
A second later, laughter erupted from the watching trainees.
"What's with that hurt look?"
"He looks utterly abandoned by the world."
"Bet they slap on some super sad BGM."
"Da-ra-ra-ra... da-ra... da-ra......"
A glance at the screen confirmed: Facing mortal peril, my expression was profoundly tragic.
And then.
My first trait is this? They even bothered with hanja?
"Oh no... I'm tearing up."
For real?
"It's funny but sad."
"Totally. Heartbreaking yet hilarious."
Are you all enjoying my misery?
Fine, then. Whatever.
Rootless trait or not, didn't matter.
Checking the #1 chair's info snapped my eyes into focus.
Fatigue as a minus. The item to recover my all-nighter fatigue. That's mine!
Blinking away my greedy glare, I calmly rolled up my sleeve and revealed my Strength 12-powered arm—pure mush.
"What're you doing?"
"Showing off his guns?"
"No guns? Not even a hint of biceps?"
Exactly. Proving why my Stamina, Strength, and Agility were 10s: scrawny arm with soft, jiggly padding—no hint of firm muscle, like freshly pulled rice cake.
"Let's do it—arm wrestle."
My on-screen expression grew even more woebegone.
Even trying not to look pitiful, thinking of my broke, homeless, low-stamina state made my eyes well up automatically.
The watching trainees roared with laughter. I was the only one serious here. Damn it.
"Ah... what do we do..."
"Why does watching him hurt my heart so much..."
"So sad. Just so sad."
In this pity-party atmosphere siding with me, Oh Hyun-jin's face soured briefly.
Even if he pushed an arm wrestle and won against this pathetic arm, could he sit here proudly?
Forcing it would edit him as a heartless jerk.
I'd embrace my foreseeable honorable death gladly, but would Trainee Oh Hyun-jin?
Why's my death honorable and his win not? No clue. Once spoken, it's law.
(Okay, just thought it, but still.)
"I'm ready. Step on me lightly and go."
I extended my hand with softer eyes, but he recoiled like he'd seen a ghost.
As trainees rolled on the floor laughing and crying, unable to grasp my desperate survival show vibe...
"Take a seat."
"Pardon? No need."
I feigned polite surprise with an awkward smile.
"No, really. Sit."
Not some dating sim where I conquer everyone—no need to obsess over Favorability. But it's called "Favor," so why's his like this?
-5 should've made it -5, not -36. Crappy games suck.
"Then, I'll humbly take it."
Hiding my thoughts, I sat in the #1 chair amid enthusiastic applause from the trainees.
Notifications pinged: random Favorability ups and downs from the crowd.
As I thought they were endless and annoying, they vanished. Convenient.
Why are you ashamed?
I was utterly dumbfounded.