Chapter 5
Chapter 5
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: Even as a Villain, I Want to Debut
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The program logo lit up on the screen, and lights poured down onto the stage.
“Eh, wait. Who’s coming up?”
“Who’s gonna show?”
The trainees exchanged curious glances, but I alone stayed perfectly calm. I already knew who it was going to be.
The one who soon appeared was Baek Do-ha, the final debut member from last season.
“Hello, everyone. I’m Baek Do-ha, your MC for Dream Stage Season 2. Nice to meet you.”
The trainees shot to their feet all at once, cheering wildly at Baek Do-ha’s entrance.
“It’s him—Baek Do-ha!”
“Whoa, I can’t quite believe this.”
“First time seeing him in person…”
Baek Do-ha, standing on stage, waved toward the contestants’ seats.
Baek Do-ha was the contestant who’d debuted in first place last season and was now an idol riding a massive wave of popularity.
The trainees gazed at him with envy. It was easy to see why he’d claimed the top spot.
“Now, let me introduce the masters who’ll be your steadfast supporters from here on out.”
Before the excitement from Baek Do-ha’s appearance could die down, the lights hit the stage again, and the masters made their entrance.
“First up, Vocal Master Shin Su-yeol!”
Every time a master entered, the trainees erupted in enthusiastic reactions.
“Next, Dance Master Raise! And Rap Master Kim I-rae!”
Vocal Master, Dance Master, Rap Master. They were top names in their fields, each a force to be reckoned with.
“Whoa, hold up. I have to dance in front of Raise?”
“Seeing Kim I-rae in the flesh… My brain’s about to freeze.”
I put on my best reaction amid the cheering trainees.
It still felt surreal seeing novel characters in the real world, but if I wanted even one more second of camera time, I had to play it up.
“Wooow…”
So, I had to dance and sing in front of these people?
My soul nearly left my body, but I gathered it back and kept reacting.
“Alright, now we’ll begin the level evaluations.”
At the host’s words, the rowdy atmosphere went dead silent in an instant.
Here we go.
Level evaluation. Trainees perform a free song, showing off their dance and vocals, then get graded accordingly.
Your grade determines the training class you’ll join.
In the story, Do Won-woo bombed this and got F-grade. Lee Hae-won got a higher C-grade.
So my goal was clear: land a C-grade and end up in the protagonist’s class.
…But where are the main characters?
The first five teams had all been extras—characters with barely any lines in the novel.
Since this world synced the novel with reality, it was including even the skipped-over extras’ evaluations.
“Trainee Kang In-hyeok, C-grade.”
The trainee hearing his results on stage was the extra, Kang In-hyeok.
Like Do Won-woo, he existed solely to make the protagonist shine.
He teams up with the protagonist in the position evaluation arc but flubs it and gets eliminated—a tragic figure.
He’d never appeared in any illustrations, so this was basically my first time seeing his face.
…He looks like that?
Kang In-hyeok’s vaguely remembered features came into sharp focus.
First impressions? Intimidating. The kind of face that screams “scary” without even trying. Kang In-hyeok fit the bill perfectly.
You know the type—someone whose natural look makes them seem tough, no effort required.
“…Thank you.”
Kang In-hyeok returned to his seat with a slightly bitter expression after his C-grade.
“You did great, but C-grade? Too bad.”
“Yeah…”
Watching these extras perform, one thought kept surfacing: they worked just as hard as the leads.
They were just buried because the author hadn’t made them stars.
Do they even know they were set up from the start as extras to prop up someone else?
Probably not.
Neither them nor I had been born with fates that let us shine.
Sympathy among the downtrodden, huh…
Then a familiar name rang out.
“MLC Entertainment trainee Han I-jae.”
Finally, a main character.
“Hello, I’m Han I-jae.”
Han I-jae. The member who debuted in second place after a fierce battle with the protagonist—a fan favorite.
He excelled in every mission purely on skill alone.
“Let’s see your prepared performance.”
The stage began, and the intro alone shifted the vibe dramatically.
…He’s good.
A prodigy was a prodigy.
True to his elite trainee setting, Han I-jae delivered pro-idol level skill that could’ve landed him a debut tomorrow.
Most people lack in at least one area—vocals, dance, or visuals.
He’s got all three. Total cheater.
You might wonder why someone like this even joined a survival show.
A lot of trainees were thinking the same.
Even from a big agency, why survival? He never said in interviews, but I knew from the novel.
She was set to debut from a major label, but got subtly ostracized by her debut groupmates and left on her own.
Not outright bullying, just clever exclusion. Must’ve been unbearable for Han I-jae.
Blameless, yet shut out by the group for being “unlucky.”
And the ringleader was the agency head’s parachuted nephew. No wonder she snapped.
“…Thank you.”
Han I-jae finished his stage stone-faced, wiping sweat as applause poured in like it was nothing special.
The masters could hardly believe it.
“Why hasn’t he debuted yet?”
“Right?”
“No flaws in his dance or vocals.”
All straight from the novel.
“He deserves the top seat.”
Aside from the new lines born from my fate-altering, that is.
“He’s seriously good.”
“Isn’t he?”
“Yeah, A-grade for sure.”
Lee Hae-won next to me sparkled with excitement, flashing a thumbs-up at the stage.
“Trainee Han I-jae, A-grade.”
As expected, Han I-jae swept the highest grade amid rave reviews.
“…Thank you.”
Han I-jae bowed indifferently at the result.
You’d expect some joy, but he stayed expressionless from start to finish.
In the novel, that cynical aura drew tons of fans. He was the second-most fleshed-out character after the protagonist.
Do Won-woo slaved away in a basement and still had bottom stats, but this guy has it all. Kinda bitter.
That’s when my eyes met Han I-jae’s as he returned to the seats.
She glanced my way, then fixed ahead and climbed the stairs.
No words needed—the situation screamed it. We lived in different worlds.
Rank 1 and rank 100. Han I-jae and I were polar opposites.
Yeah, it feels off. Used to acing everything, now stuck at the bottom.
Either way, I couldn’t just sit and wait for fate to shift.
Time to climb.
My goal never changed.
Escape this miserable rock bottom.
“Trainee Do Won-woo.”
My name was finally called.
“Please come to the stage.”
I let out a short breath.
As the first unaffiliated trainee up, all eyes turned with curiosity.
Standing center stage, I took in the masters’ table and contestants’ seats at a glance.
“Whoa, he’s seriously handsome.”
“Right? Visual guaranteed.”
“Honestly, this is the only one I’d pass based on face alone.”
The masters flipped between my profile and my face, chatting.
“Hello. I’m unaffiliated trainee Do Won-woo. Please take care of me!”
As I lifted my head after bowing, I spotted Lee Hae-won in the distance pulling a funny face to ease my nerves.
I couldn’t help a grin, and the clueless masters tilted their heads.
“Trainee Do Won-woo.”
“Yes.”
“What do you think your position is?”
To Dance Master Raise’s question, I answered without hesitation.
“Visual…”
I shouldn’t laugh, but it was hilarious saying it myself.
“Oops, he’s cracking up even saying it.”
“Aw, so cute.”
He’d later get flak for his looks turning “problematic,” but his universal likability on first meetings was undeniable.
“Trainee Do Won-woo, you ranked yourself 100th and took the dead-last seat. Do you really think your skills are the worst here?”
The warm vibe shattered with Dance Master Raise’s sharp question.
I had to answer carefully. Be objective about your skills, but avoid seeming lacking in confidence.
“There’s one thing I’ve always held dear: love yourself.”
I met the masters’ eyes straight on and continued.
I’d prepped every possible question and answer long ago, so it flowed easily.
“That’s why I don’t want to call myself the worst here. But I know I’ve got shortcomings and room to grow, so I ranked myself 100th as motivation to work harder.”
The masters exchanged satisfied looks.
“Trainee Do Won-woo, you speak so eloquently.”
“Thank you.”
“As an unaffiliated, prepping alone must’ve been tough. Curious what song you chose.”
I flashed my brightest smile and revealed a song choice diverging from the original.
“I’ve prepared ‘Classroom Escape’ by A-Star sunbaenim.”
“Oohs” rippled around.
“A first-gen idol track? Any reason for this one?”
“Well, the reason is…”
I gave some reasons, but the real one was simple.
First-gen idols didn’t have today’s grueling training systems. Unthinkable now, but most debuted without trainee periods.
Their stages strayed from perfect sync. Less rigid formations, more freewheeling energy bursts across the stage.
With my current stats, sync dances plus live vocals? My mediocrity would show fast.
So, first-gen’s big-energy, simple moves were perfect to play to my strengths.
Hide weaknesses, max out strengths—that’s the rule.
“Then show us your performance.”
I nodded, took position center stage.
The moment I took my first step to change Do Won-woo’s fate.