I’m Debuting With The Bias I Killed - Chapter 4

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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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Episode 4
The Staff Member lowered the camera a beat too late, her expression startled.
I shut the door reflexively. At least from Kang Yi-yul—there was no one I wanted to see me like this.
“……Are you okay?”
Instead of answering, I wiped my eyes roughly with the back of my hand. I didn’t need a mirror to know what I looked like.
‘Puffy. Definitely puffy.’
Only an awkward silence lingered in the Hallway.
“Seong-woo.”
The Staff Member spoke carefully.
“Why were you crying?”
My mind raced.
I couldn’t tell her the truth.
‘Kang Yi-yul died because of me.’
Who would believe something like that?
“Did something happen?”
The Staff Member stepped closer.
I took a short breath.
“……Just something.”
“Just something?”
“The practice…… it’s not going well.”
The Staff Member’s eyes widened slightly.
Heat flooded my face the moment the words left my mouth.
“I want to do well, but—”
I paused to choose my words, then forced them out.
“My body…… just won’t cooperate.”
The Staff Member’s expression shifted.
She glanced toward the back of the Practice Studio, then turned her gaze back to me.
“So you stayed and practiced even after everyone else clocked out?”
I nodded carefully. I had practiced, so that stinging little voice of conscience was easy enough to ignore.
“……I wanted to keep watching someone who’s good.”
At least this part was completely true.
“You’re a rare one.”
The Staff Member smiled softly.
“These days it’s hard to find someone desperate enough to cry when practice doesn’t work out.”
She added:
“You really do want to be an Idol.”
I broke into a cold sweat inside.
‘No, actually I just want to save that person’s life.’
But my lips wouldn’t move.
[SP 1 (+1)]
‘What is that?’
A new entry had appeared in my Status—not Danger Level, but something else.
A number that didn’t disappear even when I blinked.
“Yeah. Practice isn’t easy.”
I was staring blankly into space when the Staff Member tapped my shoulder lightly.
“But you’ll be fine.”
Her voice was full of certainty.
“People as desperate as you always manage to survive in the end.”
I didn’t know it then.
That single number would become the measure of everything I did from that moment forward.
* * *
The next morning.
The moment I opened the Practice Studio door, every eye fixed on me.
“Hey, that’s her.”
“Who?”
“The one who cried.”
I started stretching as if nothing had happened, but my ears—trained by years as a producer—picked up everything.
“The one who cried because practice wasn’t going well.”
“Wow—”
“That’s tough, seriously.”
“You’re not sneaking off somewhere to cry, are you?”
“Damn it.”
Every time I moved, I felt eyes tracking my every gesture.
‘God…… this is so embarrassing.’
I hadn’t expected yesterday’s incident to spread this far.
Just one crying episode, and already the image had cemented itself.
The trainee who cries during practice. The one desperate to make it.
……And the obsessed girl who wants to become an Idol.
“That’s unexpected, honestly.”
“Right?”
I took a sip of water and avoided their gaze.
‘This is…… happening too fast.’
It was exactly the narrative I’d planned. ‘Short training period, but no one more sincere about becoming an Idol than her.’
Street casting and a brief training window—keywords that screamed lack of skill on the surface—flipped into a portrait of raw hunger and ambition. I’d been banking on becoming a Growth Character, someone who improved with each round.
It was the only weapon someone like me, a latecomer, could wield.
But the blueprint had already been laid before the Survival Show even began.
Rumors spread fast not just among the other trainees, but among staff too.
“She keeps the Practice Studio door locked every day.”
“Wow, so there’s another one like Kang Yi-yul.”
“Though I don’t think Yi-yul cried during practice—”
Every time they whispered, that mysterious number ticked upward.
[SP 15 (+1)]
[SP 17 (+2)]
Whenever people murmured.
[SP 29 (+4)]
“She would’ve been perfect if she’d come just a little earlier.”
“I know. The Survival Show is practically on us.”
“Such a waste.”
Every time their eyes lingered.
[SP 30 (+1)]
At some point, I couldn’t help but understand: the more people paid attention to me, the more something was accumulating.
Whether good or bad, whenever someone showed ‘interest’ in me, the number climbed.
I stood before the mirror.
Braces that gleamed when I smiled, revealing who I was. Natural black hair, untouched by dye. A face pale and exhausted from sleepless nights of practice, contrasted sharply by slightly darkened shadows under my eyes.
Exactly what a ‘never-been-polished trainee’ looked like.
‘Perfect.’
The corners of my mouth rose slowly.
Embarrassed or not, I’d use what I had to use.
I set down my Water Bottle. Then I deliberately moved with more care, more effort—as if I were pouring everything I had into this.
[SP 31 (+1)]
‘Interest.’
That’s my weapon.
* * *
“Go Jae-sung, straight to the convenience store after practice?”
“Didn’t you say you were on a diet?”
Loud voices came from outside the door. I didn’t even need to look to know exactly who.
‘Go Jae-sung and his cronies.’
I kept stretching. No point in getting tangled up with them.
But then.
“You’re Seong-woo, right?”
There was no avoiding it.
‘Damn—’
I quickly composed my expression and greeted him.
“Yes. I recently joined.”
“Speak comfortably. We’re the same age, right?”
“Oh…… yeah.”
Friendly tone, eyes warm and curved. I’d felt it even before the return—this guy looked completely fine on the surface.
He was like that throughout the Survival Show too. Pleasant, personable image.
‘Which made what came after even more shocking.’
His fans had even come up with remarkable logic: “It was all the agency’s fault and the other members’ fault.”
“You’re really something, aren’t you?”
The sudden remark left me bewildered.
“Everyone’s already talking about you. They say your star quality is no joke.”
Laughter rippled through the studio.
“Star quality? Come on, I just got lucky.”
“I should probably work on getting more screen time too.”
Go Jae-sung waved a hand dismissively, still grinning.
“Hey, don’t be like that. Crying in front of everyone isn’t easy, you know?”
“Isn’t it?”
He tapped my shoulder lightly.
“Sorry—you know how we are. Us guys love to joke around.”
He smoothed over the moment with a laugh, deftly steering the mood.
“Let’s all get along going forward. And you lot, treat Seong-woo well, all right?”
His smile never wavered.
‘There it is.’
This was Go Jae-sung.
He’s the one who brought it up in the first place, yet somehow he’s also the one who wraps it all up to look like the good guy.
Only the person responding ends up looking odd.
But to me, none of it mattered.
‘I have no intention of debuting with you anyway, you bastard.’
My goal was singular: eliminate Go Jae-sung from the Survival Show.
I had no energy to spare on petty distractions.
At that moment, the sound of footsteps echoed from the Hallway.
Click, click.
A steady, measured pace.
As the sound drew closer, some of us straightened hurriedly; others smoothed their hair.
Moments later, the Practice Studio door swung open.
A face I’d never seen before.
‘Who is this?’
But there was no need to wonder.
“Everyone, focus.”
‘Insane.’
That single command was enough to give him away.
That voice—a cavernous, bone-deep bass that sounded like it came from the depths of the earth—belonged to the “Tiger Manager” that Impacter members spoke of with such dread. He’d appeared frequently in the Survival Show and in Impacter’s self-produced content, making him familiar even to fans.
‘So that’s what he looks like.’
Though his face was always blurred in the footage, of course.
“There are no classes this afternoon.”
He continued, Tablet in hand.
“Instead, we’re doing a Makeover for everyone.”
“A… Makeover?”
The studio stirred with sudden energy.
“Oh, finally? We can actually cut our hair?”
“Is perming allowed too?”
“I’m bleaching mine first, no question.”
We’d all been in the same boat—growing our hair out because no one knew what style would suit us, afraid to touch it without permission. This day felt like liberation.
“However—”
The Manager’s gaze swept across the trainees. Each of us instinctively straightened as his eyes passed.
“How you transform is entirely up to you.”
A few eyes gleamed at that.
“Today is when you decide what kind of Idol you want to look like.”
My grip tightened on the Water Bottle I was holding.
‘A Makeover—’
The first impression for the Survival Show. The face the camera would capture.
The moment we transformed from “Trainee A” into an Idol.
“You’ll move in two groups.”
The instant the door closed behind him, the studio erupted in noise again.
I took a breath, collecting my thoughts.
‘This is where it really begins.’
The camera captures your face, but what viewers remember is your Character.
I pictured the image of myself that would appear before that lens.
* * *
After moving to the salon, I quietly surveyed my surroundings amid the excited trainees.
Several of them already had their minds made up, their faces betraying it plainly—bold colors, striking styles, an undisguised hunger to be noticed by the camera before anyone else.
That was when it happened.
“What are you going with?”
I didn’t even remember his name, which meant he’d be eliminated in the early rounds.
“Black hair.”
“But it’s already black.”
“Yes. I’m keeping it as is.”
A snicker rippled through his group.
“Ho-jun, why even bother asking?”
“So tacky, right?”
“Yeah, she’ll probably keep those braces on too.”
“Seriously, you need to know something before you can style yourself.”
“Whatever. We’re just cutting one person loose and starting—”
I didn’t bother responding. Instead, I looked in the mirror and tidied my hair.
‘Right. Someone gets cut. That’s true.’
They’d find out soon enough who that was.
The moment I sat down, the Designer asked me a question.
“What would you like me to do?”
“Just trim the bangs a little. Just enough so they don’t cover my face when I’m dancing.”
The Designer tilted her head.
“No coloring at all?”
“No. But if you could do a deep treatment, I’d really appreciate it. I want my hair to look glossy on camera.”
She smiled and said softly,
“You know what you’re doing.”
Of course, someone nearby scoffed immediately.
“Thinks she’s winning on hair quality.”
To me, he was just another nameless face in the crowd.
“Might as well be aiming for a shampoo commercial instead of debut.”
“Seriously clueless.”
Nameless One, Two, and Three were giggling together, pleased with themselves.
‘And who’s actually clueless here?’
The public doesn’t crave perfectly polished looks from the start. Especially not in survival shows with male contestants.
—Blonde with piercings, what is this;;—
—ugh so tryhard
—looks like some 10-year veteran idol guy
—way too much for real;;—
Once styling becomes too obvious, people recoil before they admire.
As a fan, I’d seen that backlash play out too many times.
What a survival show truly needed wasn’t artificial glamour—it was natural appeal.
“Done the fastest. You sure you don’t need anything else?”
The face in the mirror had barely changed.
Neat bangs, glossy black hair.
“Perfect. Thank you so much!”
And honestly, I was very pleased with the result.
Then he arrived.
“Hah…….”
A familiar voice reached my ears.
Kang Yi-yul, who’d come with the second wave, was looking in the mirror.
His expression wasn’t good.
‘What’s wrong?’
I found myself paying attention despite myself.
“Should I…… dye my hair?”
‘What?’
In that instant, a fluorescent maltese bolted through my mind at full speed.
“No!”
The entire salon went silent.
Every eye snapped to me at once.
Kang Yi-yul turned to stare at me with surprise written across his face.
“……What?”
I’d ruined it.
I’d shouted far louder than I’d intended.
I rushed to continue.
“It can’t happen. Absolutely not.”
“……Why not?”
His bewildered expression said it all.
Who do you think you are?
I Killed My Bias and Now We’re Debuting (Serialized)
Author │ Yu Sseu
Publisher │ Kim Ju-hyung
Published by │ J-Plus Media Co., Ltd.
Marketing │ Han Jae-hyuk
Address │ 401, Ace Techno Tower 8-cha, 11 Digital-ro 33-gil, Guro-gu, Seoul (Guro-dong)
Email │ [email protected]
Website │ www.jayplemedia.com
ⓒ Yu Sseu 2026
※This work is published by J-Plus Media Co., Ltd. in accordance with a contract with the copyright holder. The content may not be reproduced or distributed in any form or by any means without the express permission of the publisher and author.
Violation of this restriction may result in criminal and civil legal liability.

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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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