Angel Versus Devil
Settlement complete.
Broadcast Screen Time Secured (100/100) — Claim Reward
Acquired title: ‘Rival Match 1st Place Team’
When equipped: Contest victory probability +5%
While I ate and let the food settle, I closed out the daily mission and checked the title I’d just earned. Contest victory probability +5%. It wasn’t an enormous boost, but it wasn’t a number you could ignore either. Later, if I picked up the trait Competitive Spirit (S)—contest victory probability +10%—and ran both together, I could push the total all the way to 15%.
In a game where competitive fire only became more essential the deeper you went, the reward on this title was actually pretty solid.
Every single percentage point is precious.
Having to swap them in and out one by one was a hassle, but the upside the titles gave you was unmistakable. I’d just change them before every performance. I pulled a red ginseng pack from my carrier as if I’d simply taken it out of the bag and sucked it down—the daily mission reward. There was still filming left; I needed the stamina back.
Once the ranking announcement and team assignments were finished and everyone had regrouped, filming started again. We still had to pick a song and a concept, so I assumed we’d be staying indoors. Instead the staff told us to assemble outside the lodging complex, and the contestants who filed out all stood there with their mouths hanging open.
“What the hell is this….”
Seo Woo-ri, who’d barely managed to recover enough strength to climb out of bed, let out a groan of pure despair. Beside him I stared blankly across the wide, grass-covered field. A circular track had been laid out, and all sorts of obstacles jumped out at the eye. So it was that kind of thing.
“Obstacle race?”
“Looks like a relay, too.”
Lee Jae-jin pointed at the batons neatly stacked in one place and added his two cents. An obstacle relay—so that was why they’d been hammering team spirit so hard.
I swept my eyes along the course. A vaulting box first, then hurdles. And some kind of net, too.
“What’s that?”
“Looks like flippers.”
Woo Cheong-hee murmured as he watched a staff member carefully lining up a row of flippers at the starting section.
“What? This is gonna be fun.”
Nam Hye-seong nodded at Woo Cheong-hee’s cheerful take. The kid still hadn’t come down from his high.
While the contestants took in the track, MC Cheon Tae-rim appeared in a tracksuit. He wasn’t actually going to run, of course, but he was matching the concept.
“My little seedlings, you’ve all rested enough, right? Time to run! Ta-da! Obstacle relay! A little present prepared for your teamwork!”
Sweating together would help them bond with their new teammates, he added, then launched into the course explanation.
“First section: flipper run! Slip these flippers on and sprint to your heart’s content!”
He dangled a long flipper in one hand and pointed it toward the vaulting box.
“Second section: vaulting box! Fail the vault and you have to try again, so better clear it in one clean jump, yeah?”
The box looked higher than I’d expected. The next bit of explanation threw me a little. Fail and try again? Wasn’t this supposed to be a comedy bit?
“Third section: hurdles! Can’t have an obstacle race without hurdles. Five of them! Don’t knock them over!”
The hurdles weren’t that tall, but they weren’t a height you could ignore either—about a meter.
Looking at the flippers alone, it felt like pure variety entertainment…
But the vault and the hurdles had a strangely serious edge to them. Then the last section swung right back into comedy territory.
“Final fourth section is the flower of teamwork—three-legged race! Tie one leg together, match your breathing, crawl through the net, then run a full lap!”
One leg tied, through a net. I could already see the flailing future. Were we supposed to go under on our stomachs?
Flippers, vault, hurdles, net, and a three-legged race on top of it. Honestly, none of it was doing much for my appetite. A relay, of all things—did we really have to do this? Just how dead-set was this production team on building teamwork through sports? The sense of déjà vu made me sigh.
Looks like they had a good time with the athletic festival on Idol Survival Plus…
You could see it was content aimed at OTT subscribers. The free trial period would be ending soon; they probably needed something like this to keep the existing ones from canceling.
Still, I wasn’t thrilled. Every time they ran one of these segments, the stamina we already didn’t have enough of for practice got drained dry. One way or another, the contestants were the ones getting ground up by a production team that loved to film. We were the underdogs, so there was nothing we could do about it.
“Ah, I almost forgot to say this!”
After finishing the course rundown, the MC opened his mouth again. The noisy field went quiet; Cheon Tae-rim looked around and continued.
“Depending on the relay results, the winning teams will receive an advantage when choosing the concept for the second team mission. Please give it everything you’ve got for your team mission!”
“What kind of advantage exactly?”
“Priority concept selection rights!”
At almost the same telepathic moment, my eyes met Lee Jae-jin’s. The faint lack of motivation in both our gazes lit up like we’d looked into a mirror.
Priority concept selection—that meant we couldn’t half-ass this.
“I’ll take first! Flippers!”
Woo Cheong-hee, who’d been interested in the flippers from the start, called them out. Right after him Nam Hye-seong shouted too.
“I want third! Hurdles! I’m confident!”
I ruffled both of their heads as they radiated pure interest and confidence. Whatever it was, better to do what you actually wanted. That was how you did well.
First: flippers—Woo Cheong-hee. Third: hurdles—Nam Hye-seong. That left second—the vault—and fourth—the three-legged race.
“What about you, hyung? Are you good at the vault?”
I figured it would be better if Lee Jae-jin and I went last and Seo Woo-ri took the vault, so I asked him. He nodded.
“I’ll do the vault.”
“Then Jae-jin hyung and I will run last.”
“Okay.”
We locked in the order in seconds, and Lee Jae-jin and I jumped straight into practice. We tied his right foot to my left, stood side by side, and tried matching pace. It was smoother than expected. We could probably push the speed higher.
“Hyung, we should practice the net too—”
“Alright! We’re starting now. First up, Group 1! Group 1, Team 2, please come forward!”
“Looks like we’re going first?”
We hadn’t practiced the net yet, but it was fine. The other side would be in the same boat. We’d prepared enough.
“First runners from each team, step forward!”
Before I knew it Woo Cheong-hee had the flippers on and was heading up; from the other side Choi An-seong came forward. Kwon Do-ha must have been their third runner.
“When this flag drops, you start. Ready—and go!”
The flag snapped down with a flutter and the two of them in flippers exploded into a full-power sprint.
“Ah, what is that!”
People watching the two of them bouncing along burst out laughing for a moment—then gasps of admiration poured out at the unbelievable speed they were somehow managing even with flippers on.
“They’re insanely fast!”
From the fourth section, Lee Jae-jin and I cheered Woo Cheong-hee on at the top of our lungs.
“Cheong-hee, you’re killing it!”
“Woo Cheong-hee, looking good!”
The truth was, right before we started I’d swapped Woo Cheong-hee’s title from Silver Badge to Sports Festival 2nd Place Team, so right now he was running with 30% better athletic sense than usual.
Is this doping?
I felt a tiny bit guilty, but concept selection rights were on the line. You used what you had.
Hearing us cheer, Min Seong-ho and Park Beom-gyu—already tied at the ankle beside us—joined in.
“An-seong, don’t lose!”
“Choi An-seong, fighting!”
Choi An-seong gave it everything he had. But Woo Cheong-hee, already in enjoy-the-moment mode and now doped on top of it, was terrifying. Looking almost like a clear-eyed madman, he opened the gap and hit the finish first. He snatched up the balloon and charged straight at Seo Woo-ri. The balloon popped between them with a bang, and Seo Woo-ri took off. Somehow his back looked a little drained of strength.
The way he cleared the vault, though, was perfect.
“Wow.”
Lee Jae-jin and I let out the same soft exclamation at the same time. He jogged out casually, then exploded into a sudden, powerful jump and sailed cleanly over. It looked cool as hell.
“Pass!”
The second the pass call rang out, Nam Hye-seong blasted forward and hit the hurdles section in one breath.
“Let’s get ready.”
Watching him, Lee Jae-jin and I started preparing to run. The other side had been a little late; Kwon Do-ha was only just starting his run and was closing hard.
“Hye-seong, you’ve got this!”
But clear-eyed madman number two was grinning ear to ear, flying over the obstacles like a man possessed. On our side it was pure personal voltage.
“His rhythm sense is insane.”
There wasn’t a shred of hesitation in the way he bounced over them. Kwon Do-ha chased hard, but the gap didn’t shrink as easily as expected. The baton reached us; we gripped it and took off. Final leg—three-legged race.
“One-two one-two one-two one-two.”
We matched stride at a speed that didn’t even leave room to count to one properly. The moment we saw the net we spun 180 degrees.
“Jae-jin hyung, lie down! Bound foot first!”
I pushed off the ground with my free foot. Jae-jin stumbled a little at first, then locked into the tempo almost immediately. I’d swapped his title to Sports Festival 2nd Place Team as well, so he was also running 30% doped.
I couldn’t see the team next to us, but I didn’t care. We shot out from under the net in no time and stood up together. Then we spun another 180 so we were facing forward again and ran. Not a single beat of tempo lost—completely in sync.
I’d already swapped my own Golden Badge for Sports Festival 1st Place Team ages ago. Athletic performance +50%. Every movement felt easy. Under normal circumstances we probably would have messed up at least once, but somehow even in a three-legged race we were flying faster than usual.
“And just like that, Group 1 goes to Team 1—!”
The whistle and the MC’s voice told us we’d hit the end.
“Waaaaaah! Hyungs, that was so cool!”
“Kyaaaaaaah!”
The second we crossed the finish line Nam Hye-seong and Woo Cheong-hee launched themselves at us and nearly knocked us over. Seo Woo-ri caught us just in time; once we had our balance, Jae-jin and I each hoisted one of them up while Seo Woo-ri quickly untied the rope.
“Thanks.”
Still holding Nam Hye-seong like a koala, I thanked Seo Woo-ri. I’d almost gone over backward and cracked my skull. I gave a little bow to the guy shaking his head, then grabbed Nam Hye-seong’s flailing legs and bounced him once.
“Aaaah, I’m sorry! You guys were just too cool!”
“What? I’m giving you exactly what you wanted.”
I kept a firm grip on his legs. Woo Cheong-hee was wriggling just as hard on Jae-jin’s side.
“Who told you to charge us like that? Dangerous.”
“Ack, I’m sorry! Put us down now!”
They needed to calm their excitement a little, so Jae-jin and I didn’t set them down. We were basically holding them aloft; the two of them, stuck up in the air, started yelling. Having every eye on them must have been embarrassing.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
“I won’t do it again!”
I considered keeping them up longer, but they’d already reflected, and they’d also opened up the gap for us at the start, so we finally put them down. We were still filming, after all.
While Group 2’s match was still going, we loosely tied the rope back onto the baton and walked over to a staff member who was wearing a strangely pleased expression.
“Nice ceremony. Twin towers?”
I made the dumb joke, laughed awkwardly, and returned the baton. Then I went back to my seat and watched the other groups race. Group 2 had Song A-seong and Kim Yo-han; Song A-seong cleared the vault in one try, but Kim Yo-han had the misfortune of being paired with a teammate who was a little shorter, so their three-legged section turned into pure physical comedy the whole way.
“Yeah, that part’s hard.”
I muttered it without thinking and Nam Hye-seong answered.
“But you hyungs did it really well.”
“That was just luck.”
Actually it was the doping. I brushed it off sheepishly and looked ahead.
In any case, Kim Yo-han wasn’t the only one struggling. The opposing team was thrashing around under the net just as badly. Still, Kim Yo-han was the first to shake free of the mesh; he grabbed his teammate’s shoulder and ran hard.
“A-seong’s team won!”
Woo Cheong-hee, who’d been cheering for Song A-seong’s side, shouted happily. I nodded; I’d been rooting for Song A-seong and Kim Yo-han’s team myself, if I had to pick. After that I cheered for Han Sang-jin and Lee Won-yeong’s team in Group 3, then Han Min-hyeok and Yu Sang-hyeon’s team in Group 4, and before I knew it Groups 5, 6, and 7 had finished as well.
When all seven matches were over, the contestants dragged their somewhat wrecked bodies back inside. Finally it was time to choose concepts.
Back in the familiar studio, the MC—now changed into a clean outfit and looking sharp—spoke.
“The advantage for the teams that won the obstacle relay! Priority concept selection rights! And the theme of that concept is…!”
“Is…!”
Cheon Tae-rim called out “is” and looked around; a completely drained, lifeless echo of “is…” rolled back at him, and at last the concept was revealed.
“Angel versus Devil!”
At the MC’s declaration, a white angel wing and a black devil wing filled the studio’s giant screen.
“The winning teams pick either angel or devil, and the losing teams automatically take whatever’s left!”
His words cut through the murmuring contestants.
“The second team mission is a battle of good and evil. Winning teams, choose carefully!”
I slowly shook my head. The choice was already decided.