Debut or Die - Chapter 119

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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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A Fatal Illness if I Don’t Debut – Episode 119
I couldn’t fathom what was going through Chung-ryeo’s head. That lunatic was completely unhinged.
He’d posted on SNS telling me to become an X, and now, just days later, here he was pulling this nonsense again.
‘He’s calling the Company directly?’
And of all times, it had to be now—at the Salon. We were in the middle of preparing for the evening schedule.
I caught Kim Rae-bin’s eyes widening from where he was getting his hair dried. He’d definitely read the Manager’s lips.
The place was crawling with staff and related personnel, which made it all the more uncomfortable.
‘What does he think he’s going to say?’
In the midst of this, the hairdresser working on my hair cheerfully rushed me along.
“Go ahead, go ahead~ it’s fine. We’re almost done.”
They probably thought I was hesitating because I was worried about disrupting the styling.
‘But I really don’t want to take this call…’
I held back a sigh and spoke to the Manager first.
“Could you tell him I’ll call him back later?”
“He says you don’t have his number? He changed it and called through the Company. You never answer unknown numbers anyway.”
“….”
He could’ve just texted, but instead he went through the trouble of calling the Company. It was obvious.
‘He knows I blocked him.’
If he was going this far, there was no way around it. It would look bad to keep asking the Manager to relay messages.
Better to get this over with quickly.
“Fine. Then.”
I took the smartphone from the Manager and brought it to my ear.
“I’ve changed my number. This is Park Moon-dae.”
-Ah, finally.
His voice came through dripping with amusement. Did I really have to listen to him grinning like an idiot?
“I heard you changed your number. I’ll save this one.”
-Yes, please do. And congratulations on the rookie award.
My grip tightened on the armrest of the chair.
“…The awards ceremony hasn’t even finished yet, and nothing’s certain. So then—”
The moment I tried to end the conversation, Chung-ryeo cut in without hesitation.
-It’s pretty much confirmed. So, aren’t you curious what happens next?
Not curious at all, you bastard.
Anything I’d get from continuing to interact with this guy would be worthless information anyway.
He stabs you in the back and then tries to reel you in with sweet talk.
“Not particularly. In any case, I’ll keep the number saved. I hope your year-end activities wrap up well. Senior.”
That was my way of ending the call.
-…Ah, so it’s like this.
Then, suddenly his tone shifted, becoming somewhat awkward.
-I think there’s been a misunderstanding… I’m not the type to do something that would harm my junior out of the blue. I have my principles.
Principles, my ass.
“I understand.”
-We’ll keep running into each other during year-end activities anyway… hmm, I should explain then. It’s a bit awkward over the phone.
“It would be nice to meet when the opportunity comes. Well, I’m sorry, but I have a schedule, so I’ll hang up.”
Chung-ryeo answered as if joking.
-Right. And don’t block me by accident this time.
“Yes. Then.”
I hung up quickly. If I’d been at the Dormitory, I probably wouldn’t have held back and said something, but since I was at the Salon, I kept quiet.
Then I handed the phone back to my Manager.
“Here you go, hyung. Thank you.”
“Sure~ Oh, I’ll text you his number.”
“….”
I couldn’t curse the Manager’s kindness when he didn’t know the full story. I held back a sigh, leaned back in the chair, and closed my eyes.
‘What a hassle.’
At first, I wondered if there was any benefit to be gained, but this guy was nothing but a pure troll.
Plus, the sudden shift in attitude made him so unpredictable that I couldn’t read him at all.
‘The answer really is to cut ties.’
End it quietly without stirring up trouble.
After all, in two years, the future I know will be over. Then he’ll have no use for me either, so he’ll naturally drift away.
Until then, I just need to avoid the situation carefully and stay uninvolved.
Testa will probably at least touch the top tier by the next album, and if he cares about his position, he can’t be more blatant than this.
Aside from being out of his mind, he seemed quite obsessed with his status as an idol.
‘So as long as we don’t build up mutual animosity, we’re fine.’
Well, originally I was so angry I was thinking of getting rid of him somehow, but now that things are settled and I’m thinking rationally, my risk is too high.
‘There’s no need to risk my life catching a troll.’
I’ll just keep this as a backup plan just in case. I organized my thoughts and opened my eyes.
And Kim Rae-bin, whose eyes were gleaming beside me, spoke up.
“…Is the arrangement program, by any chance,”
“Classified information, apparently.”
“I understand….”
Sorry, but I don’t think the day will come when I ask you about that.
I tossed a glucose candy to the dejected Kim Rae-bin.

* * *
After skipping a few year-end events, it wasn’t long before another new year-end stage arrived.
This time, it was the KBC Music Festival.
Since they only invited singers who had performed well that year, we received relatively more stage time compared to other public broadcasters—but that wasn’t where the problem lay.
The real issue was elsewhere.
“We’re in it!”
“No way, that’s the ad from back then! That AI!”
“Oh my god.”
During the commercial break between parts one and two, we finally saw the real product of that three-month, 350-million-won advertisement deal.
On screen, Testa members sat in what looked unmistakably like a white living room set, each holding different props.
As for me… I was holding a light stick. A glittering magical wand-style one, no less.
I just want to note for the record that I had no choice in the matter.
Anyway, the AI assistant we’d contracted for this ad apparently had the advantage of being compact and detachable in various places.
[Connect to the item that shows my sensibility.]
[Your personal secretary who understands you—play exactly the song you’re thinking of.]
Then the screen suddenly cut to a character-style AI speaker with ambiguously detailed eyes.
Cha Yu-jin smiled and tapped the speaker playfully.
[I want to hear “Airplane”~]
Whereupon the speaker suddenly blasted out a low-quality rendition of “Here Comes an Airplane” with full force.
[…?]
After a shot of Cha Yu-jin’s surprised expression, Park Moon-dae appeared with a composed face.
Park Moon-dae laughed while waving the light stick.
[Curious, play “Airplane”]
Then the audio filled with Testa’s song “Airplane.”
Over the clean-quality BGM, shots of Testa members making gestures flashed by.
[The magical boys of Testa’s]
[Magical AI secretary!]
And then, out of nowhere, Park Moon-dae with dog ear drawings attached made dog noises while shouting “Curious,” and the ad ended in an instant.
[Curious! Woof woof!]
The waiting room erupted in laughter.
“Ahahahahaha!!”
“Hehe.”
That laughter came from the relief of having escaped it myself, no matter how I thought about it.
“….”
I held back a sigh. Ryu Chung-woo, the first to stop laughing, finally began offering comfort with a cough.
“Ahem, I think it’s because you’re in first place, Moon-dae. How great is it to get that much screen time in an ad?”
“Y-yes, sir…!”
“Right, right~ Chung-woo hyung said something good.”
Ah, is that so?
I nodded in agreement.
“That’s right. You make a good point.”
“Right?”
“Yes. I’m really curious to see the other members’ versions too.”
“…??”
“Other members…?!”
Bae Sae-jin quietly revealed the truth to the alarmed members.
“…The storyboard says there are seven different versions of this.”
“…!”
Every time we watched TV from then on, we’d be treated to a thrilling game of Russian roulette.
The members’ faces tensed as each recalled their own storyboard version.
Well, there wasn’t much time to worry anyway. Our stage was near the end of Part 2.
And this performance mattered. It was our first year-end stage since the SBC special.
‘I need to drive a wedge into the shifting public opinion.’
If you look clumsy at anything, you may be thinking, ‘I don’t know your tester skills…’ It was inevitable that comments like, ‘I guess they only did that special performance with their teeth clenched.’
We had to perform flawlessly here.
Thanks to that pressure, the guys quickly shifted into a different kind of tension.
And right before we took the stage, we gathered for a chant.
“Testa’s showing something special today!”
“Let’s go!”
I questioned whether we really needed that particular phrase… but well, the atmosphere was energized, so it worked.
Testa rode the lift platform up onto the stage.
Waaaaaaa!
A sea of light rippled across the audience.
I still couldn’t quite believe that each light represented a person.
But there were some glow sticks that stood out distinctly. As expected, they were Testa’s.
…Their luminosity was incomparable.
‘It’s like putting a flashlight among fireflies.’
Either way, it was good that they were instantly recognizable. Since it was a live broadcast, I couldn’t do anything elaborate, but I could at least wave in their direction as we entered.
Meanwhile, the entrance intro was ending.
I walked to center stage and took my position.
Then the prelude to “Magic Boy,” arranged for the year-end stage, began to play.
It was an orchestral live version.
Matching the live violin melody resonating from below the stage, I started the opening verse.
“I think of you all day long, the one I met tomorrow, dreaming dreams as blue as daylight-.”
The ensemble of strings and woodwinds filled the hall brilliantly.
It was completely live music happening in real time.
What that meant was we’d boldly decided not to use any AR at all, to preserve the live band feel.
‘Lucky that I got the opening.’
If I’d missed the pitch or timing on entry, it would’ve been a complete disaster. It made sense that the one with the lowest failure rate took this part.
And after that, everyone delivered their live vocals smoothly, keeping things stable.
“Cast a spell—”
“Make a wish come true, true, true~”
I wove contemporary dance movements into the choreography to match the ornate instrumental arrangement. Rather than dreamlike, it had taken on the atmosphere of a grand fantasy epic, but it possessed its own distinct charm.
The costume was a bit too flowing and made me self-conscious, but the audience seemed to love it.
‘Sun Ah-hyun is flying out there.’
He was the one who embodied this concept best, so he seemed even more energized than usual. During the dance break section with only the violin solo and percussion, there was an undeniable artistry to it.
And then the song naturally transitioned into the “Airplane” chorus.
-Airplane
Screeeech—!
‘The in-ear monitor, seriously.’
A sound like fingernails scraping a chalkboard erupted in my ear.
The device meant to prevent us from losing the beat due to crowd noise and reverb was instead destroying my concentration.
Screee screee screeeech!
…I’d experienced high volumes or missing audio before, but never this kind of chaos.
‘I’m losing it.’
Unable to bear it any longer, I yanked out the in-ear monitor on the backing track side roughly. Seeing several members do the same thing beside me confirmed it was a broadcast error.
‘Year-end public broadcasting really runs smoothly.’
But the real disaster came next.
Bae Sae-jin’s in-ear monitor, which he’d pulled out, slipped down his body during the lying-down choreography and fell onto the stage.
It was clear the person responsible for securing it had made a mistake.
‘…I’ll kick it off stage during the next section.’
But at that exact moment, Sun Ah-hyun, who was changing his movement path and coming toward the center, stepped on the cord wrong and slipped.
Head-first toward the floor, no less!
“…!”
I reflexively grabbed Sun Ah-hyun’s back.
And from the opposite side, Ryu Chung-woo, who was doing the exact same thing, caught my eye.
‘Get him up and get back into position immediately.’
There was no avoiding situations like this.
Everything happened in an instant, and the decision was made in a heartbeat.
But just as I was about to apply force with my hands, Sun Ah-hyun instead pushed off with his feet while still slipping, creating momentum against his own body.
“…!”
Using his momentum, Sun Ah-hyun placed both hands on the arms of Ryu Chung-woo and me, who were supporting his back, extended both legs fully, and executed an elegant backflip.
Then, landing as if painted onto the stage, he continued with his part.
“…Far away, fly high, my heart soaring— I wish to become a shining star beyond the Milky Way.”
“…!”
Despite my shock, my body instinctively executed the modified choreography we’d practiced. I was truly grateful for that.
As the final verse was about to begin, the members naturally returned to their original positions.
Bae Sae-jin pressed his head microphone and sang. His face and voice were fine, but his fingers trembled faintly.
“…I wish for two hands to meet—”
The seven of us, standing in a circle, brought one hand together toward the sky and spread it open, bringing the song to its conclusion.
“….”
Aaaahhh!
The camera lights and on-air indicators flickered off amid the roaring cheers.
Only after the stage lights dimmed did the members’ faces begin to show expressions drenched in cold sweat.
‘…Did we manage to pull through?’
First, I needed to check if the stage went smoothly…no, wait—I should check Sun Ah-hyun’s condition first.
‘What kind of madman does a backflip after falling without any practice?’
It was a situation where his head could have easily cracked open if something had gone wrong.
But there was no time to dwell on it with the broadcast still running. We quickly waved at the fan section and descended from the stage.
Without even a moment to exchange words, we were immediately confronted with the monitoring screens.
“…!”

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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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