Debut or Die - Chapter 309

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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 309
The comment from T1 Plays, the company that had acquired the production team of ‘127 Section’, was attached to the theme song that Kim Rae-bin had arranged solo.
And that comment, posted less than a day ago, was flooded with replies from people brimming with pilgrimage and anticipation.
-Let’s goooooo
-Lolol you’re good at this lolol
-We’ve been waiting
-Please release it!
The atmosphere suggested this arrangement could be officially adopted for a cinematic trailer at any moment.
Foreign commenters were even flooding in with emoticon-laden international memes.
“Uh… uh…”
Kim Rae-bin was speechless. His brain seemed to have overloaded from a situation he hadn’t anticipated.
It was amusing, but I shared his sentiment.
‘When did things get to this point?’
I’d expected the response to be decent, but virality was a different matter entirely.
How does a game parody video from a brand-new account blow up this much in just a week?
Since it was an anonymous account anyway, I’d left it alone, but this wouldn’t do.
I turned on my smartphone to find the source of this chaos.
‘Is it another algorithm pick?’
No, it was something more deliberate.
‘127 Section’ had indeed passed its peak domestically, leaving only a niche fanbase while mainstream appeal and sales declined.
But perhaps because the sensibility resonated, it had established itself as a steady seller with a strong international fanbase.
As a result, many overseas gaming YouTubers were obsessed with this game series, and one of them apparently saw this video during a live stream.
That person’s subscriber count was….
[25.92 Million Subscribers]
Yeah, that’s why it blew up.
Thanks to that, it caught the eye of a diligent manager, and this situation unfolded.
So what’s the conclusion?
“What do we do?”
“That’s what I’m wondering.”
The frequency of “that’s what I’m wondering” as a response had increased noticeably since earlier.
It was that ridiculous of a situation.
After all, I was about to build a second career as a professional composer—not as an alt account.
And my current business partner had bitten the bait all on his own.
At that moment, Cha Yu-jin raised his hand enthusiastically.
“Let’s do it! It sounds fun!”
I saw that coming.
“Hold on, hold on!”
“Let’s think about this, Yu-jin!”
Watching Ryu Chung-woo and Lee Sae-jin try to stop Cha Yu-jin from rushing into a majority vote, I opened my mouth.
“First of all… if we actually accept this proposal, we’ll need to put our real names and bank accounts on the contract.”
“Ah, then our involvement would be exposed right away?”
“Exactly.”
In that instant, I could vividly picture how Testa would be weaponized as a promotional narrative for this game. Being a subsidiary company, Headquarters would push it through without a second thought.
They’d convince themselves it was a heartwarming story—beneficial for Testa, beneficial for the game.
‘And manipulation accusations would run rampant everywhere….’
Naturally, such conveniently mutual coincidences inevitably reeked of transparent marketing deception.
-Testa promotion is disgusting
-Look at them dragging in fanboys again to salvage their failed game
I’m going crazy, T1 marketing team, why are you like this ugh
Creating this kind of noise right before the awards ceremony was foolish. Consider the public sentiment formed during the rookie awards—’Testa doesn’t deserve it.’
Actually receiving the award mattered, but whether the public acknowledged it as deserved would definitely influence mission success.
‘Even if we try to block it, the moment someone at Headquarters decides differently, it’s over.’
I couldn’t bear to see that happen.
Then, unexpectedly, someone spoke up with a serious expression.
“W-what if we did it under a family member’s name…?”
It was Sun Ah-hyun. He seemed to be suggesting this because he couldn’t bear to see Kim Rae-bin’s achievement abandoned.
“Oh, that’s not bad?”
“I like it!”
I answered with difficulty.
“No. The moment it’s discovered, tax evasion charges come first.”
“….”
Absolutely not. We had to be careful—this was already a sensitive area these days.
Bae Sae-jin, who had experienced chaos once from filing comprehensive income tax in his debut year, swallowed hard.
“Then… should we just ignore it?”
“That’s also problematic.”
Now that the account had already attracted attention, continuing to upload arrangements would inevitably keep contact offers coming.
‘With Kim Rae-bin’s talent, it’s only natural.’
Besides, look at how people are already enjoying it and leaving comments. If there were no response at all, that uniqueness might actually draw negative attention instead.
And then opportunists might try to exploit it as viral content.
‘…Maybe I should just delete the account.’
Hmm, this account seemed to hold symbolic meaning for Kim Rae-bin in overcoming his slump, so I’d wanted to preserve it if possible.
To avoid that… it had to be an official statement.
“If you’re planning to decline, I think it would be good to express it with appropriate wording first.”
“That’s true.”
It would be perfect if there was a reasonable excuse everyone could accept and move on from.
If we just continued with arrangement activities normally, interest would fade with time anyway.
“S-so come up with something convincing, you’re good at this kind of thing!”
“Huh? Me?”
Big Sae-jin laughed incredulously, and Bae Sae-jin flinched. They’d been formal with each other for about a year, so the effect was finally wearing off.
‘Still, saying it outright helped.’
In any case, Big Sae-jin had voiced his opinion instead of getting into a pointless argument with Bae Sae-jin.
“This is definitely a situation where the primary contributor’s opinion matters~ What do you think, Rae-bin?”
“Huh?”
Kim Rae-bin, who had been staring blankly ahead lost in thought, snapped back to attention at Big Sae-jin’s call.
And he answered carefully.
“I’m… fine with declining!”
“Won’t you regret it?”
“Yes! Since I created it at the composition camp as a hobby rather than for achievements, I’m already more than satisfied and delighted with the current response!”
“Hmm, if that’s what Rae-bin thinks.”
“Okay~”
And so the conversation wrapped up with an appropriately polite refusal.
“The academics part should be fine, right?”
“Yeah. Just polish the wording a bit.”
So this was the comment they left on the video.
-I really appreciate the formal contract proposal, but I don’t have time because I’m studying. I’m satisfied with being able to upload it to WeTube and share it like this.
It was mild enough to give no one any grounds for complaint, and common enough a reason to avoid suspicion.
‘That should wrap it up.’
Everyone probably thought the same, but circumstances didn’t play out that way.

* * *
“Wow, this person’s persistent.”
A few days later.
We discovered a reply from the manager beneath our pinned comment.
-That satisfaction… wouldn’t it grow even bigger if money was included? (winking emoticon)
We can contract based on the arrangement you’ve already done, so please feel free to reach out! Fighting with your studies! (smiling emoticon)
And as if people were somehow moved by this bland joke, they swarmed the comments section with even more enthusiasm.
‘…It’s starting to spread to the Online Community too.’
[Ruin Factory Courting Three Times]
[Is that arrangement really that good? I found it hard to follow]
[Major Company Working Hard Update]
Someone found it amusing enough to screenshot and spread it around.
Hahahahaha
-Update your games instead of wasting time like this
-Just accept it! Accept it!
The atmosphere was such that declining here would make me seem like a spoilsport and an ungrateful brat.
Of course, there would be people cursing the manager out, saying “Why are you bothering them when they said no?”
‘If that happens, it really becomes a mess…’
There’s no topic that spreads as easily as one that sparks controversy.
If it were revealed in that chaos that the arranger was actually Testa, a truly unwelcome situation would erupt.
‘If I’m not careful, this becomes a scandal.’
Moreover, as elements beyond arrangement became the topic of discussion, people with deliberate intent began flooding the comments with criticism and praise alike.
The original purpose behind creating the account was already becoming muddled.
‘Damn it.’
This was really annoying.
I was already swamped just focusing on the concert, and now this commotion had erupted.
Kim Rae-bin’s spirits had even dampened because of it.
“I’m truly sorry for causing you concern during such an important period….”
I let out a short laugh.
“What, are you apologizing for having talent?”
“N-no, that’s certainly not what I meant…!”
Kim Rae-bin was taken aback but couldn’t find a proper rebuttal, so I steered the conversation and confirmed once more.
“You agreed to refuse this not because it felt burdensome, but because it was the cleaner option given the circumstances—that’s right, isn’t it?”
“Yes? Yes. That’s true, but….”
“Then that’s settled. You can ignore all of this. The concert comes first.”
“…Yes. Understood!”
Kim Rae-bin seemed relieved upon hearing the definitive answer. Big Sae-jin then entered with a grin, slinging an arm around his shoulder.
“That’s right~ we need to show off something amazing at this concert~ after all the hard work we’re putting in!”
That was also a fair point.
In truth, there weren’t many who had the mental bandwidth to invest serious attention in this game company’s nonsense.
The more one focused on the setlist he’d rearranged, the more details demanded attention.
‘He’s a capable one.’
I regarded Big Sae-jin anew.
Whenever there was profit to be gained, he was quite adept at designing realistic pathways to achieve it.
‘Which is precisely why he played the largest role in the plan I’d devised.’
That’s right. The curriculum I’d established when planning the mountain lodge trip remained incomplete.
One final stage remained.
-Composition Camp Stage Three.
Having recovered confidence through stages one and two, this stage would teach how to prevent mental collapse even during slumps.
‘Specifically….’
Granting authority to touch on producing while severed from it—making them feel achievement and fulfillment in that paradox.
And that was precisely what this concert represented.

* * *
“My heart feels like it’s about to burst.”
“Mine too, completely.”
The Graduate Student made a fuss with her friend sitting diagonally in front of her, Park Moon-dae’s Fan.
And unlike those two in their excitement, a third party with a reluctant expression sat nearby.
‘Why am I even here…’
She was their friend, after all.
She’d participated in the ticketing as a mercenary, but surprisingly, all her friends had succeeded in getting tickets, leaving her with a spare.
And through her friends’ coaxing and curiosity, she’d ended up in this seat… but she was already regretting it.
‘I could’ve sold it on the black market.’
She hadn’t done so out of fear it might cause employment problems if she got caught, but sitting in this uncomfortable chair now, she couldn’t help but feel the loss.
‘I could’ve done a hundred pulls in that gacha game with that money!’
That’s right. She was a modern mobile gamer who didn’t hesitate to spend money on probability-based games.
‘They said it was such a famous idol group… sigh.’
She watched her friends chattering excitedly and shook her head.
‘This is kind of embarrassing too.’
The light stick was so dazzlingly brilliant that she wanted to hide it away…
But in a concert hall where everyone was excited and thrilled, sharing the same emotional energy, she had no choice but to hold up her light stick helplessly.
‘Ugh, seriously.’
Just as she was beginning to resent her friends.
-Ding
A soft-voiced announcement began to play.
-Hello.
Ahhhhhhh!!
“Oh my.”
Was the start really that exciting? She was startled by the screams erupting around her.
-We’d like to inform all our guests who’ve come to watch Testa’s ‘Wave for me’ today.
The male voice explaining viewing etiquette was pleasant to listen to, but something felt slightly off about it.
It was the kind of word choice you’d expect in a concert hall with more theatrical formality than a typical concert, but she didn’t notice the specifics.
-…We hope you have an enjoyable viewing experience.
At that moment, the Graduate Student mouthed something to her with a beaming smile.
‘That’s Moon-dae!’
What?
In that instant, the lights went dark.
-Now, we enter into the waves…
The performer’s final announcement rang out in perfect timing.
And in the concert hall that had suddenly grown quiet, sound slowly began to emerge.
It was the sound of waves.
And within it, the orchestra and electronic sounds slowly melded together, then began to come forward.
A rustling, crystalline sound.
She recognized this song as well.
‘Testa’s debut track, isn’t it?’
But in the very next moment, a different intense melody weaves in.
She knew this one too. Yet within seconds, another accompaniment emerges….
‘What is this?’
It was an overture.
The prelude played at the opening of an opera or musical.
The difference was that this wasn’t meant to introduce the songs.
Everyone in the venue already knew them.
This was for immersion.
‘…It has atmosphere.’
And the lights returned to the concert hall.
An intense blue illumination that covered every seat. But it wasn’t static.
“…!”
Countless shades of light and deep blue rippled across the indoor venue.
The air moved.
Hisssss.
And dry ice billowed beneath their feet. The mist undulated gently.
“Wow.”
The lighting and undulation, the crisp scent, and the slightly muffled accompaniment….
All five senses collaborated in metaphor.
The concert hall had become an underwater realm!

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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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