Debut or Die - Chapter 6

—————

This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com

—————

A Fatal Illness if I Don’t Debut – Episode 6
I was exhausted.
My eyes felt gritty and strained.
These incompetent fools had kept all seventy-seven participants confined to the Set while they evaluated each one.
Even during the break, they’d divided us into groups and only let us use the restroom in shifts.
I suppose managing dozens of hot-blooded young trainees was inconvenient for them, but my patience was wearing dangerously thin as a result.
When I could see through the Status Window and grasp everything at a glance, every performance felt tediously identical.
I’d grown sick of watching active idols perform at events, so there was no way trainee performances could impress me.
Of course, there had been a few standout moments—two or three at most.
I glanced up at the two figures seated on that excessively ornate sofa above.
They were currently ranked first and second. Both came from the same Major Entertainment Company, and they’d performed exceptionally well. Their Status Windows were equally impressive.
Both would debut, and one of them would take first place.
Attaching myself to them would certainly increase my debut odds… but the thought of engaging in adolescent hierarchy games at my age—something that should’ve belonged a decade in the past—made me feel dizzy.
I’d reconsider once the team assignments were announced.
And mercifully, the evaluations were finally winding down.
“Participant Ryu Chung-woo ranks… ninth!”
He’d pushed through. The final participant had squeezed into the already-packed upper ranks. Which meant… my ranking had dropped to twenty-second.
Still, I’d performed remarkably well.
In fact, I seemed to have surpassed about seven participants who were numerically superior in skill.
I’d need to manage my image carefully going forward so the overrating didn’t become obvious.
“Thank you!”
The former national archery representative with his characteristically melancholic expression grinned and left the Stage.
I’d heard he’d won a gold medal in the Olympic team event, but I couldn’t recall the details. All I remembered was that he’d made the debut group.
Either way, he wouldn’t have to serve in the military, making him talent the Entertainment Agency would love.
Wait.
Now that I thought about it… would I have to serve in the military?
With my previous body, I’d received a Grade 4 classification and been exempted through public service.
Just before this terrifying topic could fully occupy my mind, filming ended.
“Cut! Thank you all for your hard work! Participants, please proceed to the next location~”
“Got it~”
Scattered applause and responses came from various directions.
As I moved along with the staff’s guidance, my head felt light.
The moment this shoot wrapped, I’d need to check Park Moon-dae’s military service status first thing.
“Please collect your ranking certificate and board~!”
The Dormitory was a ten-minute walk from the Set. It had been newly built on the Broadcast Station Back Mountain after Season 1’s massive success.
But we’d used transportation anyway, and the reason was obvious.
They were filming content for broadcast.
The transportation method varied depending on ranking.
“Participants! Top ten, please come this way~”
“Whoa, a limousine!”
“Wow~ This is amazing!”
“Incredible.”
Behind the top-ranked participants boarding the sleek black limousine with thumbs up to the camera, I could see those ranked at the bottom tiers.
Participants ranked 51st through 77th had to walk.
Throughout the crowd, I spotted forced smiles and attempts at humor masking the tears threatening to spill.
The cameras pursuing them relentlessly captured every moment.
They had perfected the art of exploiting misfortune for spectacle.
Honestly, it was rather distasteful.
“Oh, not bad?”
Participants ranked 11th through 25th were waiting for premium coach buses.
Lee Sae-jin boarded the bus first with a grin.
I waited a moment to avoid the misfortune of sitting together, then boarded at an appropriate interval.
Someone then rushed aboard behind me with a clatter.
Hesitantly, they slipped into the seat beside me.
It was Sun Ah-hyun.
“…?”
Why are you…?
Well, whatever. At least he was quiet, which was fine by me.

* * *
We arrived at the Dormitory in no time. Like last season, different floors were assigned by ranking.
This pseudo-caste system would continue until team missions appeared.
Participants ranked 11th through 25th were assigned spacious five-person rooms. Since five people per rank shared one room, I ended up separated from Lee Sae-jin, who was ranked 20th. Lucky.
“Wow~ I’m calling this bed!”
The moment we entered the bedroom with two bunk beds and one single bed, someone dramatically dove onto the single bed.
He wanted to appear playful and cheerful for the cameras.
I casually claimed the lower bunk of one of the bunk beds.
Sun Ah-hyun then quickly threw his belongings onto the upper bunk above me.
“….”
When I looked up, he lowered his head. It felt like I was dragging around a henchman….
When we changed into the training clothes we were given and gathered, he followed along dutifully.
Looking at it objectively, he seemed intimidated by the assertive aspiring celebrities. A relatively quiet ordinary person was probably more comfortable for him.
Since he didn’t seem like someone who would cause immediate problems, I let it be.
However, I needed to be careful not to get too close—any argument could be used against my character, so I shouldn’t choose him as a teammate.
“From now on, you will begin intensive training! Introducing~ Customized Mobile Classes!”
The MC introduced the system everyone already knew with exaggerated flair.
“Your vocal and dance grades have been determined based on the evaluations you received from the judges!”
“Yes!”
“Each class is divided into three levels—upper, middle, and lower—and you will pursue skill improvement through customized training suited to your level.”
Up to this point, it resembled other auditions. The problem came next.
“And all of you can shift classes in real-time at any moment!”
“…!”
“Everything depends on your effort and dedication!”
For instance, if you were in ‘Intermediate Vocals’ and absorbed the instruction like a sponge during training, suddenly excelling, then from the next session you’d train in ‘Advanced Vocals’.
Of course, this also meant your class would drop immediately if you underperformed.
After ten days of this, your final ranking would be determined through individual theme song evaluations.
It was a system designed to mercilessly burn through the mental fortitude of young contestants to extract compelling content.
“This badge goes to… Park Moon-dae!”
“Yes.”
As expected, I received ‘Advanced Vocals’ and ‘Beginner Dance’.
Pinning the gleaming gold vocal badge and the dull bronze dance badge to my shoulder felt somewhat embarrassing.
The badges were so ostentatiously designed they screamed cheap.
Notably, some participants received no badge at all.
On the internet, this was referred to as being ‘unranked’.
“Those without badges are… unclassified. You’ll attend the beginner classes with the others, but you’ll also receive special training sessions at night.”
Honestly, if you gritted your teeth and pushed through, it was actually a better position for camera time than the beginner class. Better for crafting a narrative too.
But once you were actually in that position, your perspective would shift.
That former child actor over there, trembling hands and all, was a perfect example.
He’d rambled on about appearing in some thriller film that ten million people saw a decade ago, and how unfortunate circumstances had kept him from working since.
This participant was rated unclassified in dance and beginner in vocals—F-rank and D-rank by my status window.
He’d probably come hoping for a comeback through broadcasting rather than an idol career itself.
What was surprising, though, was that this person’s name was also Lee Sae-jin.
I hadn’t expected there to be someone with the same name. Obviously, the one who debuted would be the other one.
Why didn’t I think the other one was the debuted Lee Sae-jin? Because at a glance, they looked like a disposable piece meant for early buzz and nothing more.
Unable to contain their wounded feelings, they let it show openly.
‘The PD will love that.’
Soon, once all the badges had been distributed, a massive screen illuminated.
“Now, the song you’ll be practicing is being revealed. For the next ten days! You’ll do your absolute best to master this song and present it to the shareholders of Idol Corporation!”
It was a song that would blare from every conceivable venue until next year. Even I, someone who’d cut off media as a test-prep student, remembered the chorus choreography.
It wasn’t quite on the level of POP☆CON, but it was still choreography worth learning.
“This season’s relaunch song is… ‘Shining Star’!”
An earworm beat accompanied adequately ambitious yet bearably juvenile lyrics that began to flow.
-Standing on this stage
You won’t know yet
The star light surging within me
I’ll reach you like a flash of light
A dancer appeared on screen, executing the choreography. Gasps and subtle groans erupted from various corners.
And I realized it too.
That chorus difficulty was a feint.
They’d made only that part easy to follow for mass appeal, while the intro was constructed with infuriatingly complex movements.
I didn’t even attempt to memorize it—the first verse simply slipped past. Then the chorus exploded forth.
-What shines on stage today
is me!
Yes, the Shining Star you’ll create
is me!
Finally awakening, radiating light
Watch closely, this moment~
I’m the one who shines brightest!
Even the choreography in that chorus looked like I’d stumble through it when I watched it again.
I made my decision immediately.
“Status window.”
I simply wouldn’t sleep.
“…’Sleep is for the dead’ activation.”

* * *
Calories. I had to calculate calories carefully.
What I mean is, I should have realized earlier that staying awake and active would burn calories intensely. On the first night I pulled an all-nighter, I nearly got irritable from hunger.
‘W-would you like to have this?’
Then Sun Ah-hyun gave me a chocolate bar. As I thanked him and chatted for a bit, I dropped the formal speech.
He was the same age as Park Moon-dae. Dropping formality with that bright-eyed kid made me feel genuinely rejuvenated.
From the second day onward, I crammed three meals and beverages into my mouth as much as possible. The rice tasted like cafeteria slop, but the unlimited quantity was a blessing.
By the ninth day.
I’d memorized the entire choreography. From beginning to end.
Being able to use all the nighttime hours without fatigue was definitely effective.
Plus, I’d leveled up several times.
[Name: Park Moon-dae (Ryu Gun-woo)]
Level: 7
Title: None
Vocal: A-
Dance: D
Appearance: C+
Charm: C
Trait: Infinite Potential, Sleep is for the Dead (D)
!Abnormal Status: Debut or Death
Remaining Points: 3
Up to 500, the hundred-unit Achievements were fairly plentiful, which was fortunate.
But I deliberately didn’t allocate the points.
There’d be no major impact if I did it now anyway.
‘By today… five people.’
Already five had been promoted from beginner to intermediate in dance.
It’s rare for someone to show dramatic improvement after just a few days of training. Most of them probably bombed the first evaluation and are only now finding their footing.
If I ended up grouped with them, there was a high chance I’d just blend in and be forgotten.
That would defeat the purpose of advancing. I needed to demonstrate my improvement more dramatically.
Fortunately, I had plenty of material to work with.
The Choreographer Judge had torn into me from day one.
-Again!
-Your foot, bend your left foot!
-Why are you flailing your arms? Lift them up!
From the moment the class started on the first day, the Choreographer Judge unleashed a relentless barrage of criticism on all the participants.
The atmosphere grew heavier and heavier, like a funeral parlor.
And as the class was ending, the Choreographer Judge singled me out.
-Moon-dae.
-Yes.
-If you keep dancing like that, you’re finished at the next evaluation.
-….
I wasn’t particularly bad in this class.
It was a beginner class after all. If anything, I was around the middle—the level of a non-dancer putting in genuine effort.
But I’d ranked highest in the previous season. So this was a matter of expectations.
Sure enough, the same kind of dialogue from last season came out.
-Actually, I’ve been thinking about it. I think I gave you the wrong ranking. You didn’t have the skill for that ranking in the first place.
Exactly as predicted. He probably knew it himself but was doing this for the sake of entertainment.
-Let’s do this properly, okay? Get your head in the game.
-Yes.
Unless someone is genuinely talented, a few days of training won’t suddenly create fundamentals that didn’t exist before.
But since I could make it happen, I’d just nod as if I’d made up my mind.
Empty criticism and advice didn’t move me. But what mattered was that it looked like something that would hurt anyone watching.
I couldn’t waste such dramatic material.
So I had to wait.
“Thank you for your hard work!”
“Right, don’t give up.”
The Choreographer Judge nodded at the participants’ greeting, their bodies drenched in sweat and breathing heavily.
After confirming that the staff had finished packing up the cameras, he checked his phone and left the class.
The morning dance class was over.
Now it was vocal class after lunch.
Lunch was bulgogi and seaweed soup.
I ate as much as I could. After a quick shower, I headed alone to the advanced vocal class.
Oh, but I should confess something.
“Then Moon-dae should give it a try~”
I’m coasting through vocals.

—————

This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com

—————