Debut or Die - Chapter 22

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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 22
Until the day Episode 3 aired, I devoted myself to building stamina through a combination of exercise and practice.
Fortunately, Park Moon-dae’s foundation wasn’t completely lacking—he followed along well with whatever I taught him.
The unfortunate part was that I’d already maxed out most of my practice Achievements at 500 completions.
‘It seems like it’ll be difficult to fill my stats quickly through leveling up anymore.’
At least I was grateful that stat rewards occasionally popped up from fame or stage success events.
In any case, after spending a reasonably fulfilling week, Friday finally arrived.
Around five in the afternoon, I headed toward the meeting place.
It was an Officetel located quite far from Seoul Outskirts Station—it seemed to be someone’s personal residence from our former team.
And during the process of exiting the subway station, I experienced something surprising.
“Excuse me!”
“Yes?”
“Are you… from Idol Corporation?”
Someone had asked me this.
In truth, it was only a question in form—their eyes were already gleaming with certainty.
I hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
I’d come out without even wearing a mask. If someone took a photo, there’d be no way to deny it or escape the situation with a lie.
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Ah, I knew it!”
The woman who’d spoken to me looked noticeably delighted.
“I really enjoy watching you. Your singing is so good… um, would you mind taking a photo with me?”
What should I do?
I’d come out reasonably well-dressed with the thought that Big Sae-jin might leave a verification shot. But unlike during filming, my face was bare.
I knew from my own experience. Most idols needed retouching even for bare-faced photos.
‘…That’s why I’d sometimes add some overall correction before selling when I filmed rehearsals, for conscience’s sake.’
But in this situation, avoiding any noise was more important.
“Sure. Should I look here?”
“Ah! Yes yes, just a moment…!”
The woman quickly opened a camera correction app and took a selfie with me together.
I was grateful she was someone who understood the unwritten rules of the industry.
“Oh, thank you so much. I’ll definitely vote—I mean, I’ll definitely buy stock!”
“Ah, thank you.”
Judging by the fact that she probably didn’t even remember Park Moon-dae’s name, there was a high chance she wouldn’t follow through. But still, I should thank her for the sentiment.
Because of this person’s reaction, attention was subtly beginning to gather. Passersby started glancing at me, and it was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.
I quickly bowed and wrapped up the conversation.
“I have somewhere to be…”
“Ah, yes! Thank you for the photo…”
The atmosphere suggested a question like ‘But what are you doing?’ was about to come, so I quickly left the spot.
And the moment I stepped outside the station, I bought a mask from a convenience store.
I can’t deny being overly self-conscious, but since this incident had already happened, I planned to be careful on the way back.
People were already recognizing me on the street. I’d known Season 3 was doing well, but it still caught me off guard.
‘By the second half of the broadcast, things are going to get intense.’
The place I was staying in was just a cheap room with terrible security. If Park Moon-dae kept avoiding full editing like this, I might need to figure out a solution later.
Lost in these thoughts, I soon arrived at the meeting spot. It was an Officetel, and whether it was newly built or not, it looked clean and well-secured.
I didn’t know whose place it was, but they seemed to be doing well. I was a bit envious.
“Oh~ Moon-dae, you’re early! Come on in!”
“Hey, thanks.”
When I rang the doorbell, Big Sae-jin and Sun Ah-hyun burst out.
“The living room’s this way~”
As Big Sae-jin led the way, Sun Ah-hyun followed along behind. This seemed to be Big Sae-jin’s place.
Well, it made sense for the organizer to invite everyone to their own home.
I looked around the fairly stylish Officetel interior and expressed my genuine admiration.
“Nice place.”
“Right? I wish it was our place!”
“…?”
So it was a rental, not owned?
My brief confusion was cleared up by Sun Ah-hyun’s words.
“Th-thank you.”
“….”
So this was Sun Ah-hyun’s place.
Meanwhile, Big Sae-jin was sprawled across the living room sofa, while Sun Ah-hyun sat rigidly in the corner of it.
I observed this strange reversal of roles for a moment, then stopped thinking about it.
Whatever. Let’s just watch Episode 3 and get out of here.

* * *
In the editing room tucked away on the ninth floor of the Tnet Building, the Production Team of Idol Corporation was burning the midnight oil once again.
“The editing schedule is completely backed up because of the PR video live broadcast preparations.”
“This is driving me insane.”
The final cut had barely been completed just hours before air time—a precarious situation.
Writer Ryu Seo-rin found herself thoroughly irritated.
‘If only they’d outsourced the PR work instead.’
But with advertisements crammed in and the production budget increased by mere pennies, outsourcing was simply impossible.
As a result, her schedule—barely escaped from being the most junior writer—consisted of nothing but all-nighters.
Moreover, the edited version she’d confirmed while working on subtitles was… utterly unexpected.
‘Why did they kill off these people and push those ones instead?’
Her own suggestions hadn’t been properly reflected at all!
She wanted to gnash her teeth over it, but she lacked even the energy for that. After two sleepless nights, her vision had turned yellow with exhaustion.
‘Not that I have any real influence anyway.’
Still, she’d made those suggestions for the sake of the program’s entertainment value, and it was disappointing.
‘After seeing the editing direction for episodes one and two, I had some hopes.’
She sighed and left the editing room.
With one hour until broadcast, she planned to catch a few minutes of sleep in the Duty Room.

* * *
“It’s starting!”
“Huff, huff! Please, please let our team do well this episode!”
All the team members gathered at Sun Ah-hyun’s place killed time by ordering delivery food and chatting about what everyone had been up to.
Mostly they excitedly chattered about how people had reacted after episodes one and two aired, though none of it was particularly substantive.
-Moon-dae, should we order some chicken feet?
…That was the one thing I remembered most vividly—the way he’d grinned while asking.
In any case, I’d been half-listening when the broadcast time arrived.
‘Watching on a big screen is nice.’
I thought absently while gazing at the massive wall-mounted TV that occupied a quarter of the living room wall.
“Ah, it’s starting.”
Seeing the guys who’d been sprawled across the sofa and floor suddenly sit up straight meant I wouldn’t be disturbed during monitoring—which was actually quite convenient.
But that was a miscalculation.
[Since this is the first team match, I’m sure you all have a participant you’d like to work with, yes?]
The moment the MC’s words went on air, interviews were immediately inserted.
[Cha Yu-jin: I’d want to do it with Rabin!]
[Lee Sae-jin (B): Me? (edited) Ah, Moon-dae is good too!]
[Park Moon-dae: (nods head down)]
“Kyaaaah, the hyungs are on!”
“Wow, Big Sae-jin’s interview cut looks really good.”
“Hey, I said that too! But mine didn’t make the cut.”
Every time one of my teammates appeared on screen, everyone reacted with exaggerated comments.
It was so distracting I thought I’d lose my mind.
In the midst of it all, Big Sae-jin burst out laughing. He seemed pleased that having a namesake meant he was listed as Lee Sae-jin (B).
“Park Moon-dae, were you really like that? Kahahaha!”
“…No.”
How could I have been?
Big Sae-jin rattled off more than seven names as if hoping at least one would make it on air, but it was clear only mine had been broadcast.
Anyway, I should at least try to focus on the screen.
The broadcast continued even as they chattered away.
[Wow!!]
[Our team looks good?]
At least the moment our team was formed came across warmly.
They showed us embracing and spinning around, making it look like we were genuinely enjoying ourselves alongside participants who truly wanted to debut.
What was unexpected was the editing direction for the opposing team, which included former national archery representative Ryu Chung-woo.
[Lee Do-jun: Ah, a bit….]
[Park Jung-seop: Of all things, it had to happen like this.]
[Choi Sang-jin: Incredibly fun? (editing) That wasn’t really the feeling.]
[Ryu Chung-woo: Oh dear. (hollow laugh)]
The atmosphere had sagged somewhat, but it was quickly recovered under Ryu Chung-woo’s leadership—yet the broadcast made it look like the mood had completely collapsed.
“Uh….”
“Mm.”
Unable to comment properly, ambiguous exclamations escaped from beside me.
It was an awkward situation—difficult to praise, difficult to criticize.
After cycling through the formation process of the other teams, the next segment was song selection.
Gold 1 appeared in a solo cut, pressing buttons on the panel without even looking properly, letting out a shriek.
“Ahhh….”
Gold 1 writhed in pain watching his own dark history. On screen, he was spouting nonsense.
[Oh, the Olympic rings?]
And the editing that followed… wasn’t serious.
Accompanied by goofy comedy BGM, interviews with the team members played.
For reference, Ha Il-jun is Gold 1 and Kwon Hee-seung is Gold 2.
[Lee Sae-jin (B): You saw our faces, right?? Like this!]
[Kwon Hee-seung: We… what do we do? Ehehehe….]
[Sun Ah-hyun: (laughs and shrugs shoulders)]
[Ha Il-jun: …I’m sorry. Khekhekh.]
[♡A New World / Malang Dalcom♡]
The panel flashed playfully in the background.
…And then, for some reason, my interview appeared.
[Park Moon-dae: I thought it was good. (thumbs up)]
A caption appeared.
[Fan support conquers all…!☆]
The living room became a cauldron of raucous laughter.
“Ahahahaha!!”
“Hahaha, huh, I’m laughing so hard my stomach hurts…!”
Even Lee Sae-jin’s face had turned crimson as she fought to suppress her laughter.
“Huff, did that really happen? Did you really do that?”
“…I said the team was good.”
“Hmm, well, ah~ is that so? Thanks.”
Big Sae-jin giggled before collapsing into the sofa.
I just… shoved some chicken into my mouth.
‘Don’t get caught up in this.’
After that, the choreography practice and trainer feedback montage were edited to feel surprisingly lighthearted.
[Let’s do it this way!]
[Hmm, got it.]
The early practice sessions, which had actually been somewhat gloomy, were edited to look like earnest, innocent effort.
The first time tense background music appeared was when the Choreographer Judge unleashed his criticism.
[Nobody catches my eye. …What are you trying to do?]
The barrage of personal attacks that followed aired as-is, with words emphasized by massive subtitles.
“Even hearing it again, it’s really harsh.”
“I’m only saying this now, but it was genuinely terrifying.”
“Yeah. You could tell.”
“Mm. You too.”
As the screen showed my teammates’ stiffened expressions, sincerity masked as jest filled the living room.
Fortunately, the scene where the Choreographer Judge criticized Sun Ah-hyun focused mainly on his shocked reaction rather than on me.
And at an unexpected moment, an unexpected scene appeared.
[Are you tired?]
[Ah, no….]
It was the scene where I spoke to Sun Ah-hyun, who was being edited as “participant Sun Ah-hyun unable to focus during practice.”
It was that conversation where I used my “That makes sense when you think about it” trait.
The timing was even off. That conversation happened after we decided on the arrangement.
“Huh, what?”
“What?”
Sun Ah-hyun, startled, dropped the chicken he was eating.
I was a bit puzzled too.
‘That was said when all the main cameras were off and only the corner-mounted camera was rolling.’
I hadn’t thought it would make it into the broadcast.
But rather, because the camera was fixed in place, it gave off an off-the-record feeling.
As a result, the conversation sounded more genuine.
[Do you… do you really think I can… do well?]
[Why would I lie to you?]
[…!!]
With emotionally compelling editing layered on top, it looked like a shonen manga recruitment scene.
I felt confused.
‘I mean, I’m grateful for the good editing, but….’
Considering the character the Production Team had been building up since Episode 1, this was an unexpected choice.
Did they decide to scrap the original edit because it wasn’t working out?
In the meantime, Park Moon-dae on screen delivered ‘that line’ with a cool BGM backing him.
[Just think, ‘I’ll pull this off.’]
And the living room erupted with reactions.
“Ohhh~”
“I’ll pull this off?”
“Park Moon-dae, you think like that normally? Wow~ what wisdom!”
Just… ignore it.
Amid a barrage of teasing—whether mockery or admiration, I couldn’t tell—the broadcast cut to a brief interview with Sun Ah-hyun.
[Sun Ah-hyun: I, I, I was really grateful….]
[Sun Ah-hyun: I’ll work hard… (I should.) I, I thought like that. I’ll pull through.]
Sun Ah-hyun might be timid, but he definitely has integrity. I thanked him immediately.
“Thanks.”
“Uh, uh… oh, no, I should be thanking….”
“Ah, how heartwarming.”
“Indeed.”
While Sun Ah-hyun, robbed of his chance to respond, grew even more flustered, the TV screen finally showed the arrangement being reworked under Moody’s guidance.
[Alright, kids. First, we need to nail down the direction.]
Yes, this was the crucial part.

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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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