Catching the Fall

"Ah! What is this~! Contestant Lee Han-hee!"

People who took up rope climbing purely as physical training usually relied on their upper bodies to build arm strength, but the real trick to climbing a rope easily was the feet. Wrap the rope around your feet, lock your body in place, and both your speed and stamina improved at once.

As long as you know the technique, even with weaker arms a height like this is nothing.

What I had lost in arm strength, I had gained in reduced weight—another advantage. The moment the signal went off I shot upward, reached out lightly, and struck the bell tied to the top of the apparatus. The cheerful jingle rang out bright and clear. It had been even easier than I expected.

My body feels so light.

Nineteen years old. It was the age when I had still been racking up perfect scores on every gym assessment at school, but I had not remembered the balance being quite this good. Maybe I had undervalued this body after the shock of how thoroughly exam life had wrecked my stamina; the real nineteen-year-old frame was feather-light.

I glanced around. I seemed to be the only one who had made it up. Below me, a forest of heads dangled from the other ropes. A few contestants had already dropped and sat slumped on the mats. Still, they were trying to look like they were making an effort, so they kept starting over. Min Ho-su was clinging to his rope as if he meant to hug it to death.

"Lee Han-hee! ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Lee Han-hee! Lee Han-hee!"

"Hyung, you're so cool!"

I kept the rope tightly wrapped around my feet and stayed put, looking down. With a proper foot brake, simply hanging there took almost no strength at all. From that position I stretched out fully, freed one hand, and waved down at the teammates clapping for me below—a little performance to show how relaxed I was.

Somehow Song A-seong and Woo Cheong-hee had already gathered there, waving back with both hands in high spirits. The view from up high was surprisingly nice. Contestants, staff, and the distant equipment all lay spread out at a glance.

It isn't a round trip—they're just scoring on pure speed. No need to rush the descent.

I checked the daily mission. The yellow bar had climbed high.

Up to forty it had been green; past that, it glittered yellow. So there was still room to climb higher.

First place was already locked in anyway. I smiled once at the camera mounted on the solidly fixed apparatus above me, then looked to the rope on my left.

Lee Won-yeong was fighting his way up.

"Lee Han-hee, please come down carefully!"

"Yes~ Don't worry!"

I spent a little longer sightseeing over the people and the set, until Han Sang-jin called up, clearly fretting that I still hadn't come down. Watching the yellow bar, which had by then reached ninety, I locked the rope under my feet and descended at a leisurely pace.

Even counting the time I had spent sightseeing, not even two minutes had passed.

I'll have to wait a bit longer.

I landed lightly and was looking around the unfinished match when my eyes met those of Lee Won-yeong, still climbing. For a second there was real venom in his gaze. Even when he made a fierce face, he somehow still gave the impression of a small animal.

He looks like he's struggling.

With every grip, the distance Lee Won-yeong managed to climb was shrinking. His center of gravity was sagging downward. Everyone else had long since given up and started faking effort; he alone refused to quit.

So that's the character he's playing. Effort, passion? And the fragile look is just to create contrast?

On the surface Lee Won-yeong was climbing with a desperation that looked almost too earnest. I was not trying to put the others down, but he seemed more desperate than anyone else—as if he had made some private resolution. Like a person who would do anything to reach the ranking zone.

He was not particularly tall, and his arms looked thin, which made the climb look especially precarious.

But in rope climbing, while everyone else was hauling sixty or seventy kilograms of their own weight, carrying only something in the fifty-kilogram range was an advantage. Lee Won-yeong did not seem to know how to lock the rope with his feet and was climbing on pure arm strength, and the truth was that climbing that way at all was no small feat. For someone who looked so slight, he must have more muscle than he appeared to.

He was not as fragile as he looked. Judging by his dance stats, he had not been born with a gift for moving his body, so he must have trained seriously at some point.

"Ah, Contestant Lee Won-yeong. He's climbing hard, but he looks exhausted."

"Ugh—."

Just as MC Cheon Tae-rim said, Lee Won-yeong was dangling from the rope with about a meter left. Rope climbing was the kind of exercise where, once you hit the wall, even reaching out a single hand became nearly impossible. You also had to save enough strength to get back down, so pushing too hard was dangerous.

Still, I suspected this was partly staged. He still had strength left; he was manufacturing a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dramatic moment on purpose. He was clever enough for that.

"Ah, he's climbing again—Contestant Lee Won-yeong! Is he all right? You don't have to push yourself that hard! That alone already earns you a silver badge!"

Whether he rang the bell or not, Cheon Tae-rim was already calling it a silver badge and trying to talk him down, but Lee Won-yeong kept climbing with stubborn persistence. At last he reached the top and stretched his hand as far as it would go.

"Contestant Lee Won-yeong! What incredible tenacity! Just a little farther—ah, he hit it!"

The instant Lee Won-yeong's fingertips touched the bell, cheers erupted from the people watching. It was a hard-earned second place, won by refusing to give up. In some ways, Lee Won-yeong's silver badge might even look better than my gold. His performance had genuine emotion in it.

So this was the picture he was painting.

But before the clear jingle of the bell could fully spread, Lee Won-yeong's body began to slide.

"Careful…!"

"Ah…!"

His small, curled frame rang the bell, slipped a little, then caught on the rope again. He seemed to be trying to lock it with his feet and kept missing. The moment he started to slide, the yellow bar of the daily mission suddenly began to thrash.

"Hey—if you can't wrap it with your feet, just brace it between them for now. And narrow the gap between your hands—yes, like that. Come down slowly. Be careful not to scrape yourself."

I moved over to the neighboring rope and firmly gripped the wildly swinging line Lee Won-yeong was hanging from. Wrapping a thrashing rope with your feet was hard, but once it was steadied it became much easier to hold. If I just kept the rope stable, he should be able to get down safely.

There was something awkward about having climbed up and down at my leisure, then simply standing there watching the contestant next to me struggle—but more than that, the mission window looked wrong. The yellow bar that had been almost full was slowly, steadily draining. Wait—why all of a sudden?

Don't tell me this is going to get cut in editing? Because of what? Because it looked too dangerous?

Lee Won-yeong had managed a partial foot brace by then, but he was still slipping little by little.

Please just come down already.

I had planned to let go and step back once he was low enough to jump safely, but for some reason the arms of the slowly descending Lee Won-yeong began to shake violently. Was he about to fall like this? Was he serious?

I hoped not—but Lee Won-yeong dropped almost at once. And the yellow bar dropped with him. No!

"Kyaa!"

"Whoa—!"

In the less than a second it took for Lee Won-yeong to fall, my mind spun at full speed.

I already knew this. A falling person, considered in isolation, was not as dangerous as it looked. Thick mats covered the floor; as long as the landing went well, serious injury was unlikely even if it looked terrifying.

The real problem was when a falling person collided with something. In this case, that something was me, standing below holding the rope. If Lee Won-yeong hit me on the way down, the risk of injury for both of us would skyrocket.

So if pure safety were the only concern, the correct move was to throw myself clear. But against that rational conclusion, my body reflexively planted the foot I had already drawn back.

If I leave it like this, the mission fails.

I glared at the yellow mission bar shrinking by the second.

And the damage to my image would be fatal.

How many people were gathered here? Word would absolutely get around. The contestant who, the moment he saw someone falling, threw himself out of the way? Both of us would have been safer that way—true—but that was a separate matter from how easily the story would turn ugly.

Ah, damn it.

I could not become the person who bolted and left someone in danger. That image was genuinely bad.

I locked the foot I had stepped back, and calculated the angle. It might be a little risky, but at this range I thought I could catch him. Imagine someone falling from roughly the height of a villa's second floor. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad?

I had never actually caught a person falling from a second floor, but I decided to think of it that way. The fact that Lee Won-yeong had felt relatively light earlier was a small comfort.

If I do this right…!

Running or catching—either choice would probably earn me some criticism. But being called selfish was worse than being called a poor judge of the situation. And I snuck another look at the mission bar, which had already fallen to half. If I wanted to protect my dance stat, I had to do something.

"Ugh!"

"…!"

I caught the straight-falling body by the legs first, braced his back, bent my knees, and used the rebound to twist us sideways. Adding rotation should at least reduce the up-and-down impact. Then I set the body I had more or less stably caught down onto the mat with a soft thump.

My eyes met Lee Won-yeong's dazed ones. Even I had no idea what ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I thought I was doing.

Damn daily mission. What kind of rule is this.

It was nothing short of holding my dance stat hostage. Willingly catching the falling Lee Won-yeong had been the only way out among the options slamming into me at high speed.

Even counting his full body length, the hang time could not have been long, yet everything ached. I thought I had done a decent job of minimizing the shock, but my arms, lower back, and shoulders still hurt. Compared with before, I was paper-thin myself now.

I guess it really was too much.

Still, I did not regret it. To keep the dance stat and give no one unnecessary ammunition, this had been the only way.

Even now, the chill down my spine was stronger than the pain. What would have happened if I had followed common sense and survival instinct and gotten clear? I had the sharp premonition that things would have gone spectacularly wrong.

"Good heavens! Are you all right?"

"Wait, what? Is this staged? Did you plan this?"

"What was that? Why did it look so easy? Is that even possible?"

"People aren't feathers—how did he do that? Here, try lifting me."

Unlike the MC, PD, and writers who rushed over at once, the other contestants below were joking around, lifting one another up and down. That was reassuring. Their reactions meant the situation did not look all that serious.

Fortunately, it seemed to have looked convincing from the outside. I had pushed myself a little precisely so that the catch would look light. Had the bluff worked?

"Lee Han-hee, are you okay? Does anything hurt?"

"I heard there's a medical room on site. Why don't both of you head there first?"

The PD and MC took turns asking worriedly. There were places that throbbed, but I did not show it. Admit I was hurt and it would get edited out.

I kept my face as calm as possible and looked at the yellow status bar floating in front of the PD's face. The bar had filled all the way, but the mission window still had not flashed a completion mark. That made things clear enough.

Just get through this for now.

"I'm fine. Really. We'll go to the medical room after filming."

"Uh, me too… I'm okay…."

Still looking dazed, Lee Won-yeong answered with me. We finished our turn, and with the gold badge in hand I moved toward the edge of the platform. On the way I heard what sounded like a sigh from the production side and let it pass.

"Ugh, Lee Won-yeong—why did he have to be so stubborn…."

"I nearly had a heart attack."

"We almost had a real disaster, seriously."

"…."

Some of it was irritating, but I ignored that too. The truth was that they had built the set and still failed to anticipate this, but as a cast member—and one being evaluated—I was in no position to call them out one by one.

If they'd just put safety lines on from the start for a fall like this, none of this would have happened.

I silently cursed the complacent set crew while walking down the stairs as if I had heard nothing. Beside me, Lee Won-yeong must have caught the staff's complaints as well; his expression grew complicated.

But I wanted no further entanglement, so I hoped he would handle it himself and picked up my pace. I could see that he was smart and ambitious, but he was far too exhausting a person to keep nearby.

Whether he had fallen on purpose or lost his grip while painting some other picture, I did not care to know. I only hoped we would not get tangled up again.

Time to go show off the badge.

That made it gold, silver, gold, gold. I smoothed my expression and headed back, smiling, toward where the team was waiting—only to lock eyes with Kwon Do-ha, whose face looked oddly troubled.

I hesitated and stopped, and the other members' gazes followed. They wore expressions similar to Kwon Do-ha's, but Song A-seong's and Woo Cheong-hee's were the real masterpieces. There was even a strange note of reproach in them; a dog whose tail had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠just been stepped on would have looked happier.

Why are you looking at me like that…?

And from farther off, my eyes met Lee Jae-jin's. His narrowed gaze held clear disapproval.

No, seriously, what is with all of you….

It might have looked a little dangerous—and yes, it had actually been an emergency—but it was not as if I had done it because I wanted to.

I felt a little wronged.