Chapter 9
Chapter 9
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: Even as a Villain, I Want to Debut
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'Me first... Well, I figured as much.'
It was the development I'd expected.
In the original story, Do Won-woo kicked things off first, followed by Lee Hae-won singing and getting compared to him.
Thinking back now, he must've been put through that comparison so many times.
No wonder Do Won-woo was in an environment where he couldn't help but lose his mind.
'Still, it changed to C-grade, so I thought the story might veer off a bit, but he's still the first one to sing.'
"Why don't you give it a try?"
I glanced down at the lyrics sheet.
The killing part that gradually climbed in pitch might favor participants with high vocal ranges, but not me.
My range wasn't high enough to handle the killing part properly.
'If I crack here, it'll be total humiliation.'
I cleared my throat and, with the most confident expression I could muster, let out the sound.
― I fly up, up, up
As I finished the high note, I caught the masters exchanging glances.
In the tense atmosphere, Shin Su-yeol spoke up.
"Hm, not bad?"
Phew, what a relief.
I let out a sigh of relief and bowed my head.
'That came out better than my actual skill.'
There was a reason for my good luck.
Thanks to equipping the 'Fate Changer' title, my Luck had gone up.
"Eh, it's okay. But 'not bad' doesn't mean it's great."
Shin Su-yeol spoke as if to crush any relief I felt.
"You have to polish it more here for it to sound good. The kind of high note that sticks in your ears and heart."
He was right.
The Luck boost had barely gotten the pitch right, but the tone wasn't there yet.
If I hadn't equipped the title, I probably wouldn't have pulled this off at all.
Considering that, it was definitely something I needed to work harder on. It was a part I couldn't rely on the system for.
"Next, trainee Lee Hae-won!"
"Yes!"
Lee Hae-won responded confidently.
Well, of course he'd do well. The masters had asked with that certainty in mind.
Lee Hae-won was only lacking in dance; his vocals were solid from the start, per the setting.
Amid expectant gazes, Lee Hae-won signaled he was ready and opened his mouth. He tilted his head to the side and belted out the high note.
― I fly up, up, up!
Instead of the expected gasps of awe, silence fell.
'He cracked...'
Lee Hae-won, who had veered off-pitch, stood frozen with his head still tilted.
He looked shocked.
"Trainee Lee Hae-won?"
"......"
"Um, trainee Lee Hae-won?"
Finally, unable to stand it, I grabbed his head and forced him to face forward.
"Hm, is your throat not feeling great?"
"...Yeah, seems like it."
"You did fine earlier—why now? Anyway, next trainee."
As the turn passed to the next, Lee Hae-won hung his head low.
I didn't know what to say to comfort him, so I just silently patted his back.
Only after filming wrapped could we head back to the dorms.
Drained to the bone, I was thinking of showering first when I entered the room and saw Lee Hae-won already lying in bed.
"Already asleep?"
Lee Hae-won was bundled up tight in his blanket, silent. The lyric flub was one thing, but the crack had broken his spirit.
It was understandable. He'd just suffered back-to-back misfortunes he'd never experienced in his life.
'I feel kinda bad.'
It wasn't my fault per se, but my changing fate had shifted the misfortune onto him, that much was true.
Then, a sniffle leaked from under the blanket.
'No way he's crying?'
Lee Hae-won was under the covers, sobbing. Kwon Hak-jin approached his bedside.
Kwon Hak-jin whispered to me quietly.
"Why's Hae-won crying? Oh, because of that crack earlier?"
"Yeah. Seems like it."
The protagonist, who never cried in the story except at debut and his first concert, was weeping pitifully.
"It's okay, Hae-won. That wasn't even the real evaluation—just a test run they threw you into first. It happens."
Kwon Hak-jin comforted him, patting what poked out from under the blanket.
He probably thought it was his back or shoulder...
"Whoa, you scared me!"
The blanket slid off, revealing half of Lee Hae-won's face.
From his expression, Kwon Hak-jin had patted somewhere bad.
"Sorry. Didn't think your face was there."
"It's fine, hyung."
Lee Hae-won, eyes puffy, headed to the bathroom muttering about washing up.
The door shut, and silence fell for a moment. We both glanced at the bathroom, then resumed talking.
"Hae-won looks really down."
"Yeah. Probably..."
"He's so good, it hurts my heart seeing him like this."
Then I heard footsteps nearby.
Turning, I saw Na Jae-hyun, changed from training wear into casual clothes—that fish-shaped bread T-shirt from earlier.
'Still can't believe he bought that for 39,000 won.'
"Cool, right?"
"Yeah."
"Thanks."
As Na Jae-hyun greeted us and moved to climb into bed...
Thud, crash!
"Uh."
He accidentally bumped the bed, knocking the stone off the frame.
Na Jae-hyun, spotting it, hopped down hastily instead of getting on.
"My little Green."
It was a scene from the original. Na Jae-hyun drops his pet rock under the bed, and the protagonist helps him out, earning favor.
But the protagonist who should help was crying in the bathroom.
"What do I do?"
Na Jae-hyun stuck to the floor, reaching under the bed, but no luck.
"Can't reach?"
"No."
"Here, let me try."
Kwon Hak-jin tried too, but it was too deep.
"The bed's heavy, and they're so close together—can't shift it much."
Na Jae-hyun stomped anxiously in front of the bed.
"My little Green..."
Watching him in that ridiculous fish bread T-shirt peering around the bed, my mind went blank for some reason.
'What kind of messed-up novel is this?'
Originally, the protagonist fetches a mop from the hall to fish it out and gains Na Jae-hyun's favor.
But he wasn't coming out of the bathroom. Reluctantly, I stepped up.
"I'll grab the mop."
Returning from the hall with it, I saw Na Jae-hyun standing dazed in front of the bed.
Kwon Hak-jin leaned against the wall, face screaming 'what is this?'
I shot him a look saying I felt the same, then crouched down. Sliding the mop under, I pulled—the stone inched forward.
Finally close enough, I grabbed it.
"Thanks, hyung!"
Na Jae-hyun clutched the stone and bowed.
"Sure."
I wanted to say it was nothing, but I was too wiped to mean it.
At that moment, a system window popped up before my eyes.
I blinked.
'Just for pulling out a rock... and I get friend status?'
Turning, I saw Na Jae-hyun beaming at me.
"Hyung, let's be close from now on!"
'Uh, sure...'
I didn't know what to say, so I nodded and returned to my spot.
Hard to believe that I, with zero friends in school, had already made two.
We assembled in the practice room at dawn, no time even to warm up our throats.
Waiting for us was Vocal Master Shin Su-yeol. We lined up single file and sang one by one.
"What is this? Why so little confidence?"
Shin Su-yeol scolded the trainees with clear displeasure.
Each time my turn neared, my shoulders grew heavier.
"Won-woo, your turn."
I snapped to—it was my go.
My skill was lacking compared to others, but I'd heard attitude mattered in survival shows, so I sang full voice, no holding back.
"Hm, not bad."
"Thank you."
With the 'Fate Changer' title boosting my Luck.
It came out similar to yesterday's test run.
"But like I said, Won-woo needs more work. You look like you need the practice. You know that, right?"
I nodded.
The title kept me from sounding bad, but not good either.
Average. Mediocre skill, nothing more.
'That's why C-grade is so ambiguous. Neither here nor there.'
For the first time, the guy who'd only gotten A's knew C-grade woes.
Still, comfort in not getting trashed like in the original's hopeless vocal level.
"Starting dance training."
Vocal training ended, and Dance Master Raise entered.
Especially displeased with me, Raise eyed me coldly from the start.
"Show me."
Music started; only stomping steps echoed in the room.
We'd barely begun practicing, so the moves were clumsy.
But I'd memorized the whole choreo. My brain remembered, body lagged—that was the pity.
I tried to hit every move regardless.
"...Ha."
No matter how hard, I'd already been marked by Raise.
"Our trainee Do Won-woo..."
Raise smirked.
A sneer, plain as day.
"Tough, huh?"
Trainees glanced my way.
"You might've scraped by on tricks for grading, but tricks fail eventually. Like right now."
Normally, protagonist Lee Hae-won would've gotten this treatment, but Raise targeted only me.
In the story, it was Raise's tough love for the protagonist—but for me? Who knows.
"Everything shows in the end. Your real level."
The scolding continued.
"Compared to other C-grades, yours is the clumsiest. You know that?"
"...Yes. I know. It's something I need to work on."
Me, never scolded by teachers in school—this felt alien.
Scrape.
Suddenly, Raise stood from his chair and approached.
As everyone puzzled, he pulled something from his pocket.
A red demotion candidate badge.
Click.
Raise pinned it to my chest himself, then returned to his seat.
'Wasn't this just for the protagonist?'
In the story, no other C-grade got one except him. Meaning I was extra.
'...Guess I'll pull an all-nighter.'
Marked by Raise, if I didn't improve by eval, demotion was inevitable.
Nothing for it but to grind.
"Five, six, seven, eight!"
Training over, trainees got free practice time.
Comparing in the mirror, yeah, I looked the clumsiest in C-grade.
'Lack of internal energy, can't be helped.'
Possessing Do Won-woo's body let me use his stats, but internal energy reset to 0. System showed it.
Even same stats, internal energy affects quality.
Someone hitting B in four months on talent vs. a year-practiced B—experience gap shows.
'Basically experience difference.'
So even same grade, my newbie dance looked worse.
'Comparing me, a total beginner, to seasoned trainees from the jump...'
No time for grudges. World's unfair anyway.
Some start at 0, some at 10—competition's the same. Lose, it's on you.
'No complaining.'
* * *
After endless practice left me sweat-soaked, we took a short break in the corner.
Lee Hae-won sidled over and sat beside me.
"Tiring."
"Tell me about it."
Lee Hae-won started weak in dance too. Got C on vocals alone.
Thus, he wore a demotion badge like me.
'We're both a mess.'
Odd kinship with this total opposite.
"Sorry about yesterday."
Out of nowhere, Lee Hae-won apologized. Puzzled stare—he hesitated.
"Yesterday, I cried for no reason and made the room awkward."
That's it?
This guy apologizes for that?
"Nah. Honestly, warranted. If it were me, back-to-back lyric mess-up and crack? I'd wanna cry."
Though I wouldn't actually.
"Won-woo."
"Yeah?"
"...I don't wanna drop grades."
Lee Hae-won curled up, face on knees, looking at me.
"...Me neither."
Demotion meant less screen time in signal song video.
Fewer chances to shine.
"No clue on final grades, but hope we both get good results."
I nodded.
Somehow, we'd started leaning on each other.
Had to.
Only two in C with demotion badges: us.
"You can rise."
I looked at him.
'In the novel, he grinds to B-grade.'
"...Why think that?"
Endless bad luck had shaken his self-belief.
Normally, he'd upgrade to B-team center, outshining A-team's Han I-jae, skyrocketing.
'But the protagonist's like this.'
Demotivated. Upgrade shaky, even maintaining tough.
Not my problem. No reason to babysit the protag.
"...Why?"
Yet, I couldn't leave him slumped.
"Because I know I can do it."
"...Huh?"
"If I can pull it off, and others can, no reason you can't. Right?"
I met his eyes straight.
"So let's rise together."
At my words, light returned to his darkened eyes.