Became The Leader of a Girl Group Destined To Fail - Chapter 12
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 12.
All the trainees were ushered into the adjacent Practice Room.
Practically shoved out, really.
Once they’d all left, the key staff members and judges launched into an emergency meeting.
“What the hell was that?”
Director Kim was the first to speak.
“Won-ho. Was she always that good?”
Director Kim asked the dance trainer, Jo Won-ho, with a distinctly displeased expression.
“Her dancing was seriously rough before, I’m telling you.”
“I was genuinely shocked.”
Do Hee-young looked equally astonished.
“She was better than me?”
“…She might actually be better than the president….”
Kang Soon-hwa, the vocal trainer, spoke hesitantly.
Everyone in the room was reeling from the shock.
“Come on, it’s not quite that extreme. She just looked so much better because she was so bad before.”
When expectations are low, sometimes things just appear better than they actually are.
Everyone nodded at Jo Won-ho’s words.
But even accounting for that, the improvement was staggering.
“Right…. She wasn’t even supposed to be in the debut lineup originally.”
“She was in the debut lineup. We were going to slot her in as the judges’ final pick since we didn’t have a main vocalist.”
“No, that was our decision. Originally, we were just going to throw her in as a scapegoat to bury the controversies around the other trainees.”
Director Kim spoke without hesitation about something that would shock Yun Chung if she heard it.
“At this rate, she’ll definitely be picked for debut without any issues.”
The public’s eye is sharper than anyone’s.
When someone’s skills are overwhelmingly superior like that—naturally—
“…She might even be ranked first, don’t you think?”
She had no choice but to debut.
Yun Chung’s performance just now was, quite literally, a crane standing among chickens.
It was only natural when you’d placed a top idol with ten years of experience among trainees.
And Baek Nok-ha was particularly famous for her skills even among those ten-year veterans.
But there was no way these people could know that fact.
“I seriously thought she’d taken some kind of drug. She wasn’t nervous at all.”
“…Did she drink some soju before coming out?”
Do Hee-young muttered from beside me.
It was a method I’d occasionally used back in my debut days.
Director Kim shot Do Hee-young a look. It meant to stop saying unnecessary things.
“This is going to be a problem if it continues like this.”
Director Kim was deeply displeased.
He had no choice but to be.
Director Kim’s plan was simple: put Yun Chung, who was obviously the least popular, into the debut lineup.
What did the public love to tear apart most?
Choosing someone they hadn’t selected.
Sometimes they tore into that more viciously than they did character controversies or other scandals.
Director Kim was certain that Kim Ryeo-yu would debut.
With favorable editing from the PD’s picks and a narrative carefully constructed in her favor, she’d naturally have a massive advantage.
Besides, Kim Ryeo-yu wasn’t particularly lacking in talent—she was actually quite exceptional among the trainees.
But Kim Ryeo-yu had one critical flaw.
Her past.
She had been a perpetrator of school violence.
No matter how hard he tried to bury it, Director Kim knew the truth.
Some things simply couldn’t be buried through ordinary means.
So Director Kim decided to bury Kim Ryeo-yu’s past by putting a scapegoat front and center instead.
And he had chosen Yun Chung as that scapegoat.
A fragile trainee who trembled on stage, who had been selected for the debut lineup several times only to fail each time.
Desperate and earnest, but lacking just enough to fall short.
A trainee perfectly suited for exploitation.
But then.
“You admitted it right away?”
“Yes, because it’s the truth.”
That bold way she’d answered back then.
Her near-perfect stage presence.
There was nothing about her that wasn’t remarkable.
She seemed far more like an ace than Seo Baek-young, the actual ace.
It made him wonder—how had they all overlooked her?
“…What should we do?”
Oh PD asked cautiously.
“The debut lineup stays as is. Kim Ryeo-yu, Seo Baek-young, Kim Geum, Jo Hee-on, and Yun Chung.”
Director Kim spoke with finality.
“Let’s reduce Yun Chung’s screen time. Please cut that stage entirely.”
“Pardon?”
Oh PD’s eyebrows shot up sharply.
Even for someone who had directed music broadcasts for three years, that stage was legendary.
It was a level that seemed impossible for a mere trainee to pull off with just four days of preparation.
It was the kind of stage that would absolutely become a hot topic if it aired.
Hot topic? Oh PD was confident he could make Yun Chung rank first if he put his mind to it.
With talent like that, viewership would skyrocket.
Broadcasting has always worked this way—one brilliant star grabs the reins and pulls everything up.
Especially with audition programs like this.
But cutting an entire stage like that?
“That’s simply impossible. Even if we cut the mid-evaluation stage, we can’t cut the main evaluation stage. All main performances will be uploaded to OTube.”
Everything uploaded to OTube goes up raw and unedited.
There’s no hiding it then.
If anything, people would just criticize us for cutting such a stage, saying the broadcasting station people are clearly insane.
In the worst case, we’d face accusations of manipulation.
How many people have lost their careers trying to manipulate things?
Oh PD didn’t mind minor editing, but he had no intention of doing something so obviously suspicious.
Especially not at someone else’s behest.
“Do we really need to upload evaluation stages to OTube when it’s not even a live broadcast yet?”
But Director Kim was equally stubborn.
“It’s already been approved in the planning meeting. These days, without OTube, it’s hard to generate buzz.”
Who watches live broadcasts anymore? Everyone watches through OTT services and OTube these days.
Oh PD clicked his tongue inwardly. For an entertainment executive, this guy had no sense whatsoever.
Oh PD was actually quite frustrated. He didn’t know what Director Kim had fed to the higher-ups, but it was clearly something substantial.
The department head had explicitly told him to listen to Director Kim whenever possible.
But that was supposed to be within limits.
This clearly crossed the line—and then some. Oh PD had no intention of ruining his career because of some out-of-touch fossil.
“Still—”
“Director Kim.”
Oh PD raised his hand, cutting off Director Kim mid-sentence.
“If the ratings don’t come through or some manipulation scandal breaks, are you going to take responsibility instead of me?”
“….”
“Are you going to claim that Director Kim ordered everything? No, you won’t, will you?”
Oh PD stood up as if there was nothing more to say.
“However you decide to evaluate them—that’s entirely up to the judges’ discretion.”
“!”
“If Director Kim wants to suppress Yun Chung’s trainee performance, go ahead and try it in your evaluation. Say she wasn’t impressive, whatever. You can even tear her apart if you want. I’ll make sure to include all of that in the broadcast.”
It’s actually a win for me.
The comments section will be flooded with insults toward Director Kim.
Even hate is engagement in this world.
Oh PD smirked.
“But I’m going to give Yun Chung’s stage the longest screen time. I’m putting it in the preview too.”
Anyone with eyes could see that she’d obviously stand out.
And while Oh PD might lack integrity, he certainly didn’t lack vision.
***
Filming resumed, and the trainees returned to the Practice Room.
Tension hung thick in the air—not just among the judges, but among the trainees themselves.
Most of them were either exhausted or visibly deflated.
Few had received positive evaluations.
And yet,
“….”
Yun Chung had simply performed far too overwhelmingly well.
From their perspective, it would have been far better if everyone struggled equally.
Being the only one to fail was worse than everyone failing together—at least shared struggle offered some comfort.
Of course, that was impossible.
So it was better when naturally talented people excelled.
Kim Ryeo-yu, Kim Geum, and Ryu Bora had all been strong debut candidates from the start.
Kim Geum was the only rapper, Kim Ryeo-yu was Director Kim’s relative, and Ryu Bora had exceptional recognition from the beginning.
But.
Yun Chung was not.
Everyone wore expressions of bewilderment.
Her handling of the intro choreography before could be dismissed as possible.
It was surprising, sure, but we could chalk it up to luck—she’d obsessed over that one thing and fortune favored her.
But that stage just now? That wasn’t luck.
The trainees who’d directly clashed with her in practice knew it best.
Everyone was completely overwhelmed by Yun Chung.
In an instant, she’d climbed from last-place candidate to first-place candidate.
That carried tremendous significance.
“…We’ll now begin evaluating trainee Yun Chung.”
First, people rarely accept that someone they believed was inferior to them is actually superior.
When naturally talented people excel, that’s fine. It’s unavoidable.
But when someone you thought was beneath you outperforms you?
It’s unbearable. Infuriating.
“Trainee Yun Chung, please come forward.”
“Yes.”
Second, this represented another opportunity.
The trainees had actually sensed it to some degree.
That the Entertainment Company would debut Yun Chung as the judges’ pick.
Since she probably wouldn’t gain much popularity anyway, they’d slot her in as the judges’ choice and debut her as the main vocalist.
“…It was excellent. Honestly, there was nothing to criticize. She could debut immediately without it being strange.”
But if that Yun Chung performed better than anyone else?
Then the judges’ pick slot would become vacant.
“Thank you. I’ll work even harder.”
“I hope you’ll display this same level of skill during the official evaluation.”
After a few more words of praise, the midterm evaluation concluded.
Director Kim, as expected, said nothing.
Only the trainers and Do Hee-young offered compliments.
That meant it was now time to meet with the mentors.
But then,
“We were originally scheduled to meet with mentors today.”
Director Kim picked up the microphone again.
“However, our schedule has encountered a slight delay, so we’ll postpone it to next time. Thank you all for your understanding.”
The trainees exchanged glances with one another.
Everyone anticipated that the “delay” Director Kim mentioned was Yun Chung.
Even Yun Chung herself suspected as much.
“I’ll announce only the midterm evaluation rankings.”
Do Hee-young announced each trainee’s ranking one by one.
“First, I’ll announce 12th and 1st place last. 11th place is trainee Park Ha-eun.”
As Do Hee-young proceeded, the trainees’ rankings appeared on the screen one by one.
Each trainee stepped forward when their name was called.
11th place: Park Ha-eun
10th place: Lee Ju-seon
“And… 9th place, trainee Yeon Ju-hong.”
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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