Chapter 32
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: First Trainee Auditions
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'He's handsome. Is he a trainee too?'
The man was taller than the end of the guitar slung over his shoulder.
"Here for the interview, right? Follow me."
Jin-seong smiled and guided him along.
"It's a last-minute spot, so it's a bit rundown, but it has everything you need. Come on in with your shoes on. We're gonna scrub the whole place top to bottom in a few days anyway."
Passing through the entryway into the living room, mirrors lined every wall.
'Practice room, huh?'
Jin-seong dragged over a chair.
"Have a seat and wait. The president'll be here soon."
A quick glance showed the three rooms were still under construction.
Jin-seong pulled out a fatigue-recovery drink and handed it to the trainee, then sat down himself and started humming a tune through his nose.
"......What song is that?"
The trainee prided himself on recognizing any song from the first few bars, but this hum was something entirely new.
"Diet or Diamond or something. Haha! No clue. I don't really listen to music much."
Raising a guy who didn't read novels or listen to music—truly a mad world. But what could you do? His looks alone were the selling point.
'Great melody. Who sings it? Doesn't sound like a Korean track.'
Ignoring the trainee's intense stare, Jin-seong kept swinging his crossed legs and humming away.
It was a sample melody that had arrived at dawn. He'd listened to it over breakfast. Everyone had been floored watching the Memento Mori author slap lyrics onto it effortlessly.
A moment later, Jin-guk sauntered in.
'Another handsome one.'
With these two, the team wouldn't lose on visuals anywhere.
'Not bad at all?'
One downside: both looked a tad old for idols.
Jin-guk headed straight to a room and started tinkering away. The ongoing workshop renovations were being handled by Jin-seong, Jin-guk, and old man Hwang.
'What the—were they just laborers?'
His increasingly tangled thoughts cleared up the moment Ye-jin appeared.
"Hello?"
Trailing behind her was a kid who looked obviously young.
"You got here early."
"Oh, yeah. You called me back then."
"That's right."
Jin-seong fetched a few more chairs.
"The president's tied up, so he'll be here in about an hour. Want to do a quick meeting in the meantime?"
"Sure."
The kid, still awkward and quiet, sat in the chair Jin-seong offered. If Jin-seong was the sculpted pretty boy type, this kid was the fresh-faced cutie.
The rundown living room already felt like a flower lounge just with the members there.
Maybe that's why the trainee felt both relieved and a bit intimidated. He was the weakest on looks.
"We're planning a five-member boy group. Se-chan here will handle sub-vocals, Jin-seong and Jin-guk are on rap and choreography, so we've got one spot open."
The kid's name must be Se-chan.
"Vocals, huh."
"Exactly. We're looking for more than just a standard vocalist—someone who can double as a singer-songwriter. We saw your video, but could you play something for us right here?"
The trainee nodded and picked up his guitar.
"Anything in particular?"
"Go wild."
"Got it."
Sararang—
No need to tune; his guitar was always battle-ready. It kicked off the intro, and soon his voice filled the living room. Everyone naturally tuned in.
"I don’t drink coffee, I take tea, my dear……."
Sting's Englishman in New York. True to the legendary singer's popular hit, Ye-jin and Se-chan swayed to the rhythm, while Jin-seong and Jin-guk just registered it as "sings well." Their appreciation was on a lower level.
That lukewarm reaction stung the trainee.
'I'm belting it like this, and that's all they got?'
He'd expected gasps of awe, but the half-hearted response ramped up his nerves.
"You nailed it."
Ye-jin beamed as the song ended.
"Nineteen, right?"
"Y-yeah......"
"You handle lyrics, composing, arranging—all of it."
"Pretty much any instrument."
"Perfect! Absolutely perfect!"
Her smile restored a bit of his pride, so the trainee finally asked what had been bugging him.
"You said five members......"
"Oh, one more's joining in a few days. He's from out of town, so he needs time to relocate."
"Ah......"
On the surface, they looked like a ragtag bunch, but each one held up well individually. Solid lineup.
The trainee, who'd always written and sung solo, felt his heart waver at the thought of teammates. Loneliness had weighed on him.
"Min Team Leader, who'll train you all for the next year, starts next week too."
Ye-jin pulled a contract from her bag and offered it to the trainee.
"Conditions are top-tier industry standard—read it carefully."
As he took it, the trainee asked,
"Do I have to make the songs?"
"Title track's already in the works. For the album fillers, feel free to do your own. Up to a year max, but debut could come sooner."
"Right. A year......"
His heart pounded. He never imagined hearing "debut" so suddenly. Dream come true for any trainee.
"If you need housing, we've got it covered. Meals anytime, no restrictions. Practice room's open 24/7, but I'd like the team to sync routines."
Ye-jin's rock-solid confidence made you nod along: "Makes sense."
"Request any gear you need—we'll stock it."
Conditions like these were impossible to refuse. His mind was made up, but he still scanned the contract when Jin-seong said to Ye-jin,
"Can I head out now?"
Jin-guk fidgeted beside him, eager to get back to work.
"Yeah."
In this team, Jin-guk was seen as "just backup," so work trumped team time anyway.
'These kids doing idols?'
Ye-jin sighed and shook her head, but if they were idols rather than straight singers, it might work. She'd seen the broadcast buzz recently.
If the president wanted to chase every whim, fine by her—whatever eased his writing stress, she'd back it fully, results be damned.
'Quality over quantity.'
Clutch only the surefire cards and push forward.
Jin-seong and Jin-guk might not get it yet, but I'd seen firsthand the global impact of one well-raised group.
'And now Min Team Leader's on board.'
Leave it to the pros. Just because I wrote novels well didn't mean I could bake fish-shaped buns perfectly. A writer's foundation is insight, born from understanding the world.
In my 10 years captive, the data I'd received covered all sorts—plenty of "idol genre" authors, so I knew the industry's explosive growth.
'Knowing the future's great, but without effort, it's worthless.'
I could HODL coins, but dual-tracking was healthier for my sanity. All experience fodder for my novels anyway.
'Time to prep the next one.'
Serialization runs to November, but I'll wrap it myself next month. Then, unleash a genre only I can nail.
"Time to crack open the gates for real?"
Best to jot ideas down fresh.
New doc, light mood, rough outline only. Brains forget when scattered—notes are key.
【Prologue
An S-rank gate opened at Gwanghwamun. Every hunter mobilized, but the gate spawned nothing but S-rank monsters.
The deployed army and hunters were wiped out. Monsters scattered, massacring everything.
Fail to stop it, and humanity ends.
"......"
"......"
Only two S-rankers in Korea: one the White Tiger Guild raid leader, the other the solo king.
"First time seeing it for real, Sword Demon."
"It's Sword God."
The gate flickered before them. Another monster wave, and humanity's done.
These two were Korea's last hope.
"Searched everywhere, and we meet like this. Life's a bitch."
"Told you not to look."
"Thought we'd be unstoppable together."
"Wouldn't have changed a thing."
S-rank gate was beyond them.
"Younger than I figured. Over thirty?"
"I age well."
Facing death, they bickered like old pals—or empty shells with regrets they couldn't hide.
"If I'd tried harder...?"
Deep regret surged.
He'd led thousands of hunters, yet now he was effectively alone. Ironically, most skills needed teammates.
"Never slacked a moment."
"Figures. Solo to the top."
Shared White Tiger's Valor. All abilities +33%.
Shared White Tiger's Courage. Mental strength and focus +33%.
"Thanks."
"Guy hands aren't so bad, eh?"
"A. Ni. Gi. O."
Kwaaaaaa!
No time for jokes. Raid leader and Sword God back-to-back against encroaching monsters.
"Ugh."
"Kuh......"
The fight was brutal, tear-jerking. They battled to the end, but it was hopeless from the start.
Kill one, two pile on. Clear two, ten appear.
"Damn...... How the hell do you stop this......"
Korea's last hunter fell.
】
Standard opener. In 10 years, clichés like this churn out dozens daily, but now, just making readers grasp "gate" and "S-rank" is a win.
Hunters especially—blend it naturally, goal one.
'No lengthy exposition—melt it into the story.'
Keep intro short, slot unfamiliar elements into familiar turf.
Treatment stage anyway—details later.
Let's add more.
【Ugh......
'Why's my body so heavy?'
He shook his throbbing head and barely opened his eyes.
"What the......?"
A ceiling appeared. Crudely joined thick wooden beams. No memory of this style in Korea.
But strangest: his body.
"My body...... why......"
Raised his arm—callused, slender fingers entered view.
Restarting system.
Restarting status window.
"Ugh......"
Always calm and laid-back, now utter chaos.
Then he noticed the figure on the other bed.
'Blue hair? Foreigner?'
A boy, mid-teens, lay motionless like the dead.
"Nng......"
He sat up.
Whose skinny thighs were these?
Status window access granted.
Skills reset.
Quests reset.
Job reset.
"Ha......"
First gate opened 10 years ago. Countless near-deaths, reached S-rank—now back to zero.
"Open status."
White Tiger Guild raid leader—Korea's first S-rank—lost everything.
"Ugh......"
But this disorienting mess wasn't his alone.
The boy on the other bed opened his eyes and looked over.
"......What?"
Exotic face, total stranger—but those eyes, familiar. Shocking.
He said to the kid,
"......Sword Demon?"
The kid shot back incredulously,
"Sword God, I said."】