Chapter 27

Chapter 27

I summoned the achievement pop-up window.

[The Call of Fame!]

50,000 people have taken notice of you!

Pick a rare trait ☜ Click!

This is the notification that appeared after the first episode had aired, although several weeks had already passed since then. I guess I unintentionally saved it for later.

I’d gotten the 100,000 people achievement not long after episode three had aired and that had earned me a skill point as a reward.

This was how my status window looked right now.

[Name: Park Moondae (Ryu Gunwoo)]

Level: 12

Title: None

Singing: A

Dancing: C+

Physical attractiveness: B+

Charm: C

Trait: Infinite Potential, Words of Persuasion (C), Look at Me! (D)

Status abnormality: Debut or Die

Points Remaining: 1

I’d already used the points I’d earned from practicing for the team battle, putting one point each into singing and dancing. You might ask why I didn’t put any into the physical attractiveness stat, since I only needed one more point to boost myself up to an A-. I even had one extra point to do so. I’d wanted to, of course.

But unlike the other stats, if my looks change too quickly, people will think I had the help of a surgeon. This was especially the case if the change was big enough to push my grade up. The initial boost from C+ to B- could be dismissed as a result of starting a better skincare routine in preparation for the show, but there would be no such convenient excuse for rising from B- to A-.

I’d only barely managed to justify going from B- to B+ since a month had passed between filming days and I’d changed my hairstyle so drastically. I also wanted to double down on the puppy theme, so that was kind of killing two birds with one stone.

I’d seen in the trending search words that golden retrievers were pretty popular these days. I wanted people to positively associate me with that trend. But I digress. I decided to try my luck with the trait slot machine again. I hope I can get something useful.

In the new pop-up window, the now-familiar slot machine spun and slowed to a stop on a bronze tile. I hadn’t gotten a silver one, which I assumed had the better rewards, this time either. Stamping down my disappointment, I took note of the special trait’s name.

[Trait: “Look at Me (D)” obtained!]

People will pay a little more attention to your actions.

What? This again? But that wasn’t all there was, as another message quickly appeared.

[Duplicate trait found!]

Merge both “Look at Me (D)” traits?

This was the same system used in stupid mobile games where you could combine duplicate items. I had no idea why it was being put into play here. I’ll have to look into it if I manage to debut and avoid dying. I had no other options anyhow, so I just went with it.

[Merge succeeded!]

“I Want to be Center (C)” obtained!

People will pay quite a lot of attention to your actions.

“Charm” trait boosted by one grade when skill is active.

The special trait’s name was terrible, but its effects were impressive. I welcomed anything that would boost my stats. The previously useless trait had just been transformed into something a little more impressive.

But the charm stat? It was an odd stat to receive a boost. Simply put, it prevented you from running out of things to say in front of the camera—upping your star potential. As it so happened, the contestant with the highest charm stat was currently standing right next to me.

“So there we are! The teams have been selected!” the emcee announced.

The contestants cheered. I clapped along, glancing at Eugene’s status window.

[Name: Cha Eugene]

Singing: C+ (B+)

(Rap: B)

Dancing: A+ (S+)

Physical attractiveness: A (S)

Charm: A+ (EX)

Trait: Black Hole (A)

His window never failed to impress me. Eugene’s triple-A stats made me reconsider what it really took to be an idol. Especially with regards to his charm stat, he had the highest grade and the greatest potential of all the contestants.

His charm stat was even better than Youngrin’s, and Youngrin was a judge, meaning he had more potential than most idols currently already in the business. This also happened to be one of my weakest areas, though that stat had been upgraded just now. It occurred to me that it would be nice if I could determine throughout this team battle whether I should focus on dancing or charm first.

“Now then, please get acquainted with your new team for now! When you’re finished doing that, I’ll tell you more about the second team battle!”

The biggest issue at hand was that I was very doubtful that this team battle would end well for me. I looked around at my new team members, who’d all sat down as a group per the emcee’s instructions.

Whatever sh*t goes down, I’m staying out of it.

***

“Hey, nice to meet you,” said Ryu Chungwoo, who’d been named leader after an intense staring contest between him and another contestant.

Everyone clapped, but I could sense the obvious tension in the air. This will be obvious on camera, they won’t even have to edit it to look bad. The production team members were genius at catching wind of these particular tensions.

“Are you done introducing yourselves to each other?” the emcee’s voice suddenly rang out.

“Yes!”

“Ah, I can see some fantastic teamwork forming already! Good!” the emcee said. “Shall we move onto the mission for this team battle, then?”

The contestants hollered and cheered, but my team as a whole attempted to look more dignified.

This feels exactly like when you end up stuck in the same group with guys from different majors in a general elective class. In any case, I couldn’t do anything to change things, so I decided to just focus on the emcee.

“Here at ‘Idol Incorporated’ we have a reoccurring tradition during the second team battle. Do you know what it is? Yes, that’s right! It’s our ‘Revisiting Hidden Masterpieces’ project!”

So they’re doing that again this season.

“It’s where they put fifty songs up on the website for viewers to vote on, right?”

“Yeah.”

The guys around me murmured among themselves. All the other contestants only gave the standard reactions for the camera’s benefit, apparently already aware of what was about to go down.

“There are many masterpieces, songs which didn’t quite get the attention they deserve from the general public, for one reason or another. Through this project, you’ll be able to put a new spin on them. Our shareholders have already selected many masterpiece idol songs this year!”

In other words, though they hadn’t been hits, the songs themselves were decent enough and the production staff was going to take advantage of that. They won’t have to pay anyone to compose new songs, which saves them a ton of money, no doubt.

While I marveled at the production team’s stinginess, someone suddenly addressed me. Surprisingly, it was Lee Sejin.

“Is there a song you want to do?”

“Huh?” I asked. He looked like he was regretting asking already, but I answered anyway. “I think it would be good if we could get a song with an addictive tune.”

The songs we were going to have to choose from would not have been popular, so I didn’t want a song that lacked in general appeal.

“What about you?” I asked.

“I think ‘Base’ would be good.”

That wasn’t a bad choice. Just like the Marshmallow debut song my previous team had covered, it was a title song from a popular idol, released in their early days of obscurity. I’d actually seen the song performed live and recalled that it had a strong theme and an addictive melody.

“That’s a good song. I think it would make for a great performance.”

“Right,” Sejin said with a nod. I was beginning to wonder if he was finally starting to open up a little when Eugene butted into the conversation.

“I like that song, too. Bass! Uh, the horn rings out!” he sang.

“Oh… Yes,” Sejin immediately clammed up with an uncomfortable look on his face.

Why is he always like this? I wanted to ask him why he’d even auditioned for the show at all if he was just going to be so antisocial. In any case, lulls in the conversation were a bad idea with the cameras recording. I decided to cover for him.

“It’d be nice if we could have that song.”

“Yeah!”

Eugene agreed cheerfully, though he seemed fairly ‘no thoughts, head empty’ if I was honest.

He’s tactless but optimistic, I guess. As I revised my own mental appraisal of him to be slightly more favorable, the emcee finally explained how the songs would be selected.

“Do you see all the way over there? There are seven objects on that table!”

It really was positioned a fair distance from the contestants.

“Each of those items belonged to one of the original performers of our hidden gem songs,” the emcee said. “Using your instincts and powers of deduction you will choose one per team.”

“Oh!”

“Ugh! I’m no good at this sort of thing.”

“As for the who will choose first… Ah, it’s the old-fashioned way,” the emcee explained. “A race! Team leaders, please get ready!”

“A race?” someone asked.

Chungwoo was athletic, which gave us the advantage, though that would only mean something if he could choose well based on the props on the table. But we could offer suggestions to the leaders, at least.

“That pouch! I think that belongs to a woman!”

“The baseball... Maybe the singer’s a baseball fan?”

“The pencil has a skull on it. That’s pretty unique.”

People were talking all around me as they tried to guess the identity of the owners. As for my team, we came to an agreement quickly.

“Please bring back the most expensive-looking item you can find once you get close,” Raebin said.

“Uh, okay!”

The logic behind the decision was that anyone who handed over an expensive object to be used for a game like this was likely to be a successful celebrity now. It was pretty sound reasoning, at least based on what we knew so far.

They were considering not only the choice of song but what impact the original artist’s fame would have on our screen time as well.

Chungwoo nodded his agreement. Soon, the emcee was calling the leaders together.

“Now then, leaders. Are you ready?”

“Yes!”

“All right, then… Ready, get set, go!”

The leaders took off as fast as they could, grabbing at the props on the table. I don’t think any of them will actually have time to even look before they pick. Which essentially meant the choice of song would be a matter of luck again.

“All right! Nice!”

Chungwoo snatched something up and came back to us with a grin. He held out the object he’d brought back with a confident grin plastered on his face. It was a baseball.

“This ball has Ryu Wanbeom’s signature on it!” he exclaimed.

“Wow.”

Everyone looked impressed. Ryu Wanbeom was a famous batter who’d played Major League baseball.

Eugene asked instantly, “How do you know that?”

“I watch a bit of baseball. That’s how I recognized it right away,” Chungwoo said with a grin, throwing it in the air and catching it again. The team relaxed a little since it seemed as though things were working out well. The laid-back atmosphere didn’t last long, though.

“The owner of the baseball is… the vocalist of the idol band ‘Sun Island,’ Lee Chanwoo!”

Nobody actually recognized the older man who had stepped forward when introduced by the emcee.

“Lee who?” Eugene repeated stupidly, but nobody had an answer for him.

“Yeah!”

Right next to us, Choi Wongil’s team was cheering happily.

“Hey guys, I’m Actress Jung Hayim,” a woman said.

“Whoa, wait a second…”

Big Sejin, the leader of the team, had picked a pouch that belonged to a famous actress. I felt an odd sense of deja vu, perhaps because of how reminiscent this was to the events of the first team battle.

I shrugged. Well, what does it matter? What counted most was the song itself. Of course, it would be better for our screen time if we could perform a famous celebrity’s song. It would also preclude any possibility that people might accuse us of stealing songs from some poor obscure idol.

But in the end, a good song trumped everything else. The performance was what mattered most on an audition show, after all. So let’s find out what the song is...

“The song you’ve been assigned is… ‘Blazing Like the Sun!’”

Uh oh... That is not good.

“Oh!”

“I know that song!”

My team members seemed pleased.

“Good thing it’s a song we know…”

“Mr. Lee, I love your song!”

My team members were clearly deeply relieved that the song was pretty well-known, and a good one at that. Lee Chanwoo seemed elated at their newly enthusiastic response and introduced the song passionately.

“‘Blazing Like the Sun’ was released seven years ago, but it’s still a beloved cheer song. I’m sure those of you who like baseball have heard the chorus at least once.”

“Ah, of course. It’s an amazing song,” Chungwoo said genially.

The man smiled proudly.

Cha Eugene asked with wide eyes, “How does the chorus go? I don’t really know much about baseball!”

Lee Chanwoo cleared his throat as if he’d been waiting for this very moment. “Ahem. It goes like this. Get up now! Blazing like the sun!”

“Aha! Blazing, okay,” said Cha Eugene repeated, coming off slightly dumb.

“Haha!”

My team members burst out laughing at his reaction. The mood seemed to really be looking up as the original performer and our team laughed and played around together. The problem was, things were not actually looking good for us.

In fact, I had a feeling that the teaser would include an ominous caption over this scene, foreshadowing the team’s fate two days from now.

This song wasn’t well suited to an idol survival show at all.