Chapter 47: Daylight (3)
47. Daylight (3)
The moment I heard Park Jae-young had collapsed, only one thought crossed my mind.
'Did this bastard do it?'
That mysterious red system window. Was it calling Jae-young's sudden illness an opportunity? Or had it made a perfectly healthy kid sick just to test me?
[Is now really the time for this?]
[Probably not.]
"Hyung, hurry! The PD is looking for you!"
Before I could process the situation further, other trainees were already dragging me away. We arrived in front of a practice room on the fifth floor.
"Ah, Hajin-ssi."
"Hajin's here?"
"Yes. What happened to Jae-young? What's going?"
Seeing Ji Soo-ho standing there with a grave expression, I immediately asked. He raised a hand to calm me down, but how could I possibly stay calm?
"It's just seasonal flu. Nothing serious, but he's running a high fever... He's getting an IV in the emergency room right now."
"Ah..."
"The bigger issue is the mentor evaluation. We'll have to proceed without Jae-young."
I noticed a camera rolling nearby. My mind started racing—I could already see the edited preview in my head:
<Miro Maze's underdog Team B! Against all odds, they impressed during mid-term evaluations. But on mentor evaluation day, an unexpected crisis strikes!? Redistribute all parts within 3 hours! Can Team B overcome this challenge!?>
[Ooh, nice script.]
I'd done some subtitle work between assistant directing gigs. But that wasn't important now.
"We need to quickly reorganize including Jae-young's parts. The performance video will use his version, but for today..."
"...Understood. Let me gather the team to discuss and we'll get back to you."
"Yes, yes. Of course. We've prepared this practice room, so feel free to rehearse any changes. Just inform the writers about the new part distributions."
"Got it."
My face betrayed my turmoil. Where were Jae-young's parts again? What about his choreography and stage movements? Dozens of our practice videos automatically replayed in my mind as I tried to recall.
"Hyung, what do we do? We have less than three hours..."
"When are we supposed to rework all the movements?"
"Hey. Quiet down."
But there was no time to stand around dumbfounded.
"Gather everyone. Now."
The one saving grace was that Jae-young was Sub-Vocal 3, so his parts weren't extensive.
'Thank god he wasn't a main member like Gong Seok.'
As I kept cross-referencing lyric sheets and movement guides, another wave of frustration hit. Sure, survival shows need drama, but this kind of sudden twist was unnecessary and unwanted.
Plus.
'There's no one suitable to take over.'
If we prioritized stage movements, some members would get too many lines to handle their breathing. If we focused on vocal ability, the choreography would need massive changes.
"We need... to make a choice."
"......"
"Between major movement changes or redistributing parts. I think adjusting the formations would be better."
I could see Team B members reacting visibly to my words. But my judgment had reasoning behind it.
"We have to rework the formations anyway. We're going from odd to even numbers."
Changing from 9 to 8 members is harder than 9 to 7—the entire structure needs to shift. And now we're supposed to give them extra parts on top of that? Ridiculous.
'I'm not even sure they can memorize all the new lyrics.'
"If we rearrange it without disrupting the dance flow too much—"
"Hey, Hajin."
"Yeah? What is it, Seok-i hyung? Spit it out."
"Why don't... you just do it?"
Just as I was about to explain the formation I'd painstakingly worked out, Gong Seok's interruption made me forget my next words. Silence filled the practice room. Seizing the moment, he added:
"You... already know all the lyrics. You're always singing along during practice. And you currently have the fewest parts. You taking all of Jae-young's parts... seems like the fastest solution. What do you think?"
I couldn't think of a response. And as if to pressure me further, that damn system window appeared again.
[Sudden Quest!]
: I gave you an opportunity. Take it.
Failure penalty: Mental Care System destroyed -1000000000000000000000000000000%
This bastard.
"Yeah, Hajin hyung should just do it."
"Hyung, you should take it. Honestly, who else could right now?"
I couldn't tell if my teammates trusted me or were just trying to avoid responsibility. I stared at the system window and then at the guys in front of me.
"Hajin. Please."
"Hyung, we seriously don't have time to rework the formations."
"Hajin, have you finalized parts yet? Time's running out!"
The urging came from all directions. My head throbbed.
"...We've decided."
"Yes? Then please submit the revised—"
"No."
"Huh?"
"I'm taking them all. Every one of Jae-young's parts."
I'm going to destroy that system when this is over. For real.
Mentors for Miro Maze's evaluation began arriving. Along with Miro's trainers, MC Seo Tae-il and the celebrity judges he'd recruited through connections gathered for script readings.
"Hey, Tae-il~ You're practically a great-grandfather now."
"Great-grandfather? The kids call me hyung."
"Have you no shame, 13-year veteran?"
"Says the 'Godmother of Girl Groups'? Kids these days don't even know you're from Themis."
"Yeah. Someone posted recently—'Did you know Ria was in a girl group?'"
Ria, main vocalist of Rene's girl group Themis, was among the judges. Though junior to Tae-il's group Uphia in career length, they were same-age peers who'd built a long friendship in the industry.
"Anyway, thanks for agreeing on short notice."
"Between us? I was bored anyway. Though it stings a bit realizing I'm now at the age to mentor on these shows."
"The kids are good. Not just because they're ours—they're genuinely decent. Today'll be fun."
As Tae-il spoke confidently, Ria nodded. Oh, I read the evaluation notes on my way here.
"By the way, there's a trainee who auditioned at our company? Seo-yun noona recruited him?"
"Ah, Hajin."
"He's performing today, and Seo-yun noona kept emphasizing how good he is. Is he really that great?"
Tae-il hesitated slightly at Ria's question.
"He's good but... how do I put this..."
"What? Now I'm curious."
"You'll see. I told him off last time for taking the fewest parts—wonder if he changed that."
Remembering the mid-term evaluation, Tae-il shrugged. Though Ria didn't know details, she could tell Tae-il cared about this junior—which surprised her. She flipped through the evaluation sheets on her desk to spot this mysterious trainee.
"Really? Hope he does well. He sang my song at auditions."
"Your song?"
"Yeah. Seo-yun noona kept saying 'your one fan in the trainee department is performing today, watch carefully.' Got me curious... Huh?"
Ria suddenly stopped chattering excitedly at Tae-il's words. Reading the revised lyric sheets and evaluation forms, she tilted her head.
"Did you say his name was Hajin?"
"Yeah, Kang Hajin."
"He's got the most parts now?"
"...What?"
Confused by Ria's abrupt comment, Tae-il checked his own papers. Sure enough—Hajin's name was scattered throughout the lyric sheets.
"Huh?"
"Right? Oh... someone dropped out. Wow, taking all those parts alone means he must be really good."
"Guess so. Jae-young's out..."
Understanding the situation, Tae-il frowned. If handled poorly, this could easily make Hajin look like a power-abusing leader who ruined a team mission by being greedy.
'Doing well is expected, failing means disaster. This is a ticking time bomb.'
Tae-il (though he'd never admit it openly) secretly hoped for Hajin's debut. Sighing worriedly, he watched the trainees enter the set. Their gaunt faces showed how grueling practice had been—clearly they'd skipped meals under stress.
'Though the weight loss does make his clothes hang better.'
Unaware that Hajin's physique came from tearful military drills during his third life's enlistment, Tae-il nodded approvingly while observing him.
'Does the pushed-back hair suit him better? Today he looks...'
More handsome somehow. With zero puffiness, his sharp eyes stood out strikingly. Despite minimal makeup, he clearly stood out among other trainees.
"Who's that? Kang Hajin?"
"Yeah. Third from the left."
"Visuals aren't bad. Now I see why our company didn't take him."
"And why we fought so hard to get him?"
"Yeah, you guys really... love that face."
"Tae-il-ssi, we're starting recording... please take your MC position."
"Ah, right."
Tae-il picked up his cue cards and moved to center stage. As the set quieted and lights adjusted, he delivered his opening line following the teleprompter:
"Those who seek the sun, soar high. The journey to become Miro's Icarus! The first mentor evaluation begins now. Trainees, are you ready to show us your first daylight?"
"Yes!"
"That sounded weak. Are you ready?"
"YES—!"
Satisfied by the booming response, Tae-il continued. His next question targeted Hajin:
"Team B leader Kang Hajin. You narrowly missed Wings tier by placing 10th in the first monthly evaluation. As leader, how was preparing this time?"
"......"
Seeing Hajin hesitate, Tae-il sighed inwardly. The producers were evil—even as a seasoned MC, these questions always felt awkward.
Normally, trainees would say they made good friends in Feather tier and would show improvement, but—
"Uhk."
Huh? Uhk?