Debut or Die - Chapter 422

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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 422
Strike while the iron is hot.
There’s no field where money flows that this formula doesn’t apply, but the entertainment industry especially lives by it.
Even with identical content, whether it catches fire or flops depends entirely on the zeitgeist.
So why is the company insisting on delaying an album that the subsidiary label has already fully planned and is ready to release, when variety show content is flooding the market right now?
“The zeitgeist? Of course it matters. But Testa has already transcended the level where momentary buzz is desperately needed. They’re a top-tier idol group in every sense.”
“….”
“Well, now that I think about it, I heard the previous director forced Testa to self-produce their debut album in just one month, which caused quite a bit of trouble.”
“Yes.”
And that turned out to be a massive hit, you bastard.
I stared at the executive speaking with that slick expression.
With the label’s independence, a different guy suddenly called people in to replace the Director we’d already dealt with, and now he’s spouting off—quite interesting, really.
“Back then, it was crucial to debut quickly and capture the broadcasting impact at the right moment, but now Testa is a brand unto itself.”
Yeah.
“So wouldn’t it be more fitting for Testa’s level to focus on each detail of the album quality and elevate those details? That’s the thinking here.”
The executive made his logical recommendation, and Kim Rae-bin immediately raised his hand in agreement.
“However, the current schedule isn’t excessively tight compared to before.”
At the workaholic’s remark—someone who’d even produced a film OST draft in a week—the executive gave a slight shrug.
He’d already anticipated this, it seemed.
“But with sufficient time, you could discover new areas for improvement and additional elements to develop, couldn’t you?”
“Well… yes, that’s true!”
Kim Rae-bin immediately accepted the reasonable argument. Cha Yu-jin nearly shot him a rare look of disbelief.
In any case, having cleared one hurdle, the executive continued in an even more composed and courteous tone.
“Of course, if Testa insists on releasing the album now, the company will do everything in its power to support you.”
Really?
“This is simply our opinion that the other approach might be more suitable.”
“Is that the executive’s personal judgment?”
“Well, actually it’s something that came out of discussions in the company’s executive meeting. The CEO himself approved it as well.”
Oh, passing the buck.
Since the Director had experienced getting hit when Testa gained label independence, this guy doesn’t treat us with the kind of tongue-lashing he’d use on subordinates either.
He comes across as purely formal and courteous—like a business partner, the way you’d persuade investors.
“After all, Testa is the most iconic and highest-revenue artist at this company. We’ve given this considerable thought before offering this suggestion.”
“I see.”
“Thank you.”
“There’s no need for thanks. That’s simply what an agency should do.”
He even threw in some pleasantries before presenting the new plan so earnestly.
“Of course, we’re not saying to abandon the variety show momentum. We’ve received a proposal to broadcast Testa’s concert tour live on public broadcasting, and we’re considering moving forward with that.”
The executive, still bearing his roots in entertainment, explained the plan quite convincingly.
The members listened intently.
The atmosphere wasn’t bad at all.
“First of all, I truly appreciate your kind words. Would it be alright if we discussed this a bit more among the members?”
“Of course.”
At Ryu Chung-woo’s words, the Director readily dismissed us. As if telling us to decide at our leisure.
So when we returned to the Dormitory, the atmosphere became like this.
“…It doesn’t seem like the kind of conversation that warranted such an urgent summons.”
“We’re grateful that you’re seriously considering the completeness of the newly released album, but I believe we’ve received sufficient support for our work recently!”
One muttering suspiciously, the other accepting it in good faith. And both were equally puzzled about why someone of such standing had called us in.
But the one who grasped the situation was wearing a bitter smile beside us.
“Ah~ So they’re starting to want to cut back now.”
“What?”
“The album. Releasing it is all an investment, after all.”
Yes, this was the core of what the Agency was really saying.
-They won’t release an album.
At Big Sae-jin’s blunt words, Bae Sae-jin raised his eyebrows.
“…This company has plenty of money.”
“Well, even if it’s not just about money… good personnel and promotional ideas are limited, right? That’s what it is~”
Just as Bae Sae-jin’s face was about to change from a question mark to an exclamation point.
I drew the conclusion.
“For the company, it’s more profitable for us to just do tours and invest in building up the weight class of groups with longer contract periods remaining.”
“…!!”
Their eyes were about to pop out.
Actually, looking again, it wasn’t just Bae Sae-jin—Kim Rae-bin and Sun Ah-hyun had similar expressions too.
“So if things continue like this….”
“Yes.”
This is the reality for a top-tier idol group with little contract time remaining.
“From now on, we’ll be focusing on extracting maximum consumer spending from the fans we’ve accumulated, rather than new albums.”
“…!”
“As for the album… we might release one early next year depending on how the contract renewal negotiations look.”
It’s actually fortunate there’s no album contract with Japan. Otherwise, they’d have worked us only there.
Bae Sae-jin’s face paled.
“…I don’t understand. We even established a Label… and if we renew the contract, we’ll stay anyway, so why would they do this? Or, what if we agreed to renew immediately?”
That won’t work. It would create problems with the contract terms.
Because typically, whoever bows first and comes in loses out.
And if the conditions are good, that’s a problem in itself. Big Sae-jin shook his head and opened his mouth.
“Nah, when you renew, they usually adjust the ratio to give artists better settlements~ From the company’s perspective, that means… the return on investment decreases!”
“…!!”
Right. The better the artist’s settlement, the worse it is for the company.
And there’s an even more practical issue too.
“Even excluding that, album investment still seems like it would be a losing proposition.”
“Why??”
I acknowledged it.
The painful reality.
“We have to go to the military too, you know.”
“….”
VTIC wasn’t even that far off in the future.
We debuted later because we’re older than them, so we can still compete for a few more years.
I waited for the person who would have to leave first to digest the shock before continuing.
“And from a company-building perspective, investing in rising groups is more attractive than groups already established.”
“…Really?”
“Yes. The executives need promising new ventures to keep shareholders happy. And the higher-ups enjoy feeling their own competence.”
Especially the board of directors that the Director had filled with ambitious people during this business fever.
Even with Testa, they signed a contract saying they’d stop interfering as long as money kept flowing in. The moment the junior group takes off, Testa becomes a cash cow.
In conclusion.
-From an achievement standpoint, they want to use the money Testa makes to nurture a new group!
“Huu….”
“Come on, hyung, take a deep breath.”
Bae Sae-jin’s face flushed red and blue before finally calming down.
I should share some good news too.
“But hyung, you’ll finally be able to do proper acting work now.”
I’ll gradually distribute it through solo activities instead of albums.
I raised both fists in encouragement.
“Fighting.”
“I’ve already done plenty…!”
Bae Sae-jin muttered about four consecutive psychopath roles and buried himself glumly in the sofa. The acting experience from the System’s fake world clearly wasn’t going anywhere.
Ryu Chung-woo laughed with a slightly awkward expression and made a suggestion.
“Still, they said they wouldn’t stop us from releasing an album, so should we prepare one?”
“They won’t stop us, and it’ll seem like we’re about to release, but the company’s sudden circumstances will keep pushing back the schedule.”
“….”
The subsidiary label can plan independently, but the release schedule is ultimately controlled by the company.
‘There are plenty of excuses.’
Conflicts with other artists, bad timing….
If we’re lucky, we barely squeeze out one before renegotiation, and even then the promotion would be sparse… you know, that typical route.
“Well, I actually expected this much.”
When I heard these bastards were pushing back the album, I predicted this development from that moment on.
But there’s one more thing.
“They haven’t told us everything.”
I laughed quietly. Kim Rae-bin, who had his mouth open in disbelief like he was denying the world, asked incredulously.
“Is there… more?”
“Yeah.”
I brought my laptop out from my room. A few people trailed after me, but there was no real need for that—why were they doing this?
In any case, I pulled up the file on the screen and opened it.
“This is T1 Stars’ fourth quarter plan for this year.”
“Wait, Park Moon-dae, where are you even getting this stuff?”
“They announced it at the shareholders’ meeting.”
All you really need is the contact information of an employee with access to the company’s document folder.
Anyway.
“If you look at the monthly plan there… Yes. October.”
Right in the window where we were originally planning to release our album.
“…!!”
“This,”
I nodded.
“is Spacer.”
[Mid-October – Spacer Regular 1st Album Release / Objective: Increase Overseas Sales Scale]
That’s right. They blocked Testa from eating up the existing Spacer album release schedule.
But this isn’t the end of it.
“So here’s how the picture connects….”
I brushed my hand off the mouse and continued.
“Remember how we secured a broadcast performance on public television instead of a comeback album?”
“Yeah.”
“Once that materializes, they’ll be singing a different tune.”
Well, broadcasting the entire concert would be problematic considering copyright and VOD sales, so let’s just do some stages.
…And we’ll fill the gaps with other groups instead.
For instance, this agency’s rookie boy group.
Spacer.
“We’ll expand our concert broadcast into a second agency special and slot them in, then make our comeback riding that buzz.”
“…!!”
In other words, it’s a bundled sale—a generational transition kickoff betting on fans switching to Spacer during our downtime.
At that moment, Bae Sae-jin snapped back to reality and burst out.
“Wait, hold on. Park Moon-dae, didn’t you say last time the company wouldn’t do anything like generational transition…! That we’d be re-contracting!”
“Yes. I thought they wouldn’t, but they are.”
“….”
…I figured they wouldn’t attempt something like this since we’d built such good relations—the company wouldn’t want to lose the goose that lays golden eggs.
But now that we’ve been spun off as an independent label, their leverage is weakening and resentment is building up.
‘These bastards are actually trying to pull a switcheroo on us.’
And this blatantly too.
“Ugh!”
“…Isn’t this violating the principle of good faith? It seems like we could push back or pressure them somehow….”
“Hmm, that seems difficult.”
Bae Sae-jin had even made an actor’s agency president do public penance before, so his options seemed pretty broad now.
But it’s hard to start a dispute with the company over something like this.
“It’s not that we’re fighting with the Agency in the first place.”
“…Then?”
“They’re just delaying the album release. It got pushed down the priority list.”
In truth, this was a natural flow anywhere—any Entertainment Agency nurturing rookies would do the same. It didn’t mean this particular Agency was especially ruthless.
“….”
Bae Sae-jin sank back onto the sofa with a darkened expression. The others around him offered bitter smiles and chimed in with their own comments.
“This is tough.”
“Tell me about it.”
“…I never thought we’d be worrying about things like this after going through such a supernatural experience.”
“Even heroes who save the world have their own issues. We just need to win again!”
Cha Yu-jin shrugged his shoulders.
It was understandable to feel disillusioned—after grinding through hell to succeed, all you see are vultures trying to exploit you. But wasn’t that just how capitalism worked?
The atmosphere improved slightly at Cha Yu-jin’s clean, pragmatic statement—the kind you’d expect from someone hailing from the very epicenter of capitalism.
“Right, there’ll be… another way.”
“Yeah, we have Park Moon-dae.”
“…?”
Anyone listening would think I was some kind of magic wand.
Of course, I didn’t want to just sit back and wait until next year to release a new album.
Improving the album quality wasn’t a bad thing in itself… but that wasn’t what these bastards were after.
They were slowly squeezing the existing fanbase dry, extracting every last drop of profit.
‘These idiots just threw money at us and now they think they made us.’
I was on the verge of clicking my tongue in frustration.
“Hey.”
“Hmm?”
Sun Ah-hyun raised his hand. And he spoke with considerable resolve.
“What if we just… performed better than Spacer?”
“…!”
“Ooh.”
“If we perform better in the live concert and show them an amazing stage, maybe the company people will change their minds too. Since they’re not listening…!”
For something Sun Ah-hyun said, it was quite an aggressive statement—but it was orthodox. It was the method we’d been relying on all this time.
A direct confrontation: strip away the rank, clash head-on, and crush them.
But this case was different.
“Even so, Spacer would benefit from it.”
The reason was simple.
‘We’re not even in the same weight class to begin with.’
Competing against them?
Us performing better was inevitable. This was a situation where we’d need to overwhelmingly outshine them just to break even.
Conversely, since we’re under the same Agency, they’d get the halo effect of being ‘direct juniors of such a talented group’ and could potentially capture different market demand.
“Hmm….”
“Oh, I see. I’m sorry….”
“Whoa, nah~ but that was still cool and satisfying.”
“Right! It was awesome!”
“Yeah.”
As Sun Ah-hyun received encouragement, Ryu Chung-woo asked the members directly.
“So you want to refuse the live concert broadcast entirely?”
“Hmm.”
Frustrated enough to consider such drastic options, quite a few of them were actually agonizing over it.
But not everyone was.
“Wait! We’re getting too one-sided in our thinking right now. Why don’t we each think about it more and discuss it later? We can keep preparing the album anyway~”
“Ah, right.”
He knew when to cut things off well.
When Big Sae-jin’s eyes met mine, he shook his head slightly as if to say there was no answer, but regardless, his words worked.
The meeting wrapped up there for now.
“Let’s take a break.”
“Yes.”
The members left their seats with expressions of deep contemplation….
“Hmm.”
I remained seated, resting my chin in my hand, then made a call.
There actually is a cleanest method here without any additional conflict.
‘Eliminate the substitute.’
Send Spacer away.
A way to erase options so we have no choice but to invest only in Testa.
-….
“….”
-Um, hyung. Should I use my wish token now? Do I need to!?
“No. Save it.”
Through the speaker, I heard Spacer Kwon Hee-seung’s long sigh of relief.
I called to ask if he knew about the concert live appearance, but he’s quick to catch on.
‘…I owe this guy too.’
Thinking about it, a longer-term perspective would be better.
From now on, this agency will snatch up every group that comes out of Tnet’s survival shows, so there are plenty of investment options besides Spacer.
‘I need to approach this differently.’
That’s the conclusion I reached.
And in the meantime, the agency began showing schedules that unfolded exactly as expected.
“Looks like they’re going to add tour dates?”
This was the first step.

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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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