The Trashy PD Has To Survive as an Idol - Chapter 301

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

301

“Maknae~.”
“Where’d the maknae go?”
“Maknae!!! We’re busy—why haven’t you finished this yet!!”

The Junior Staff Member of Dead after Hope’s Art Department was being pestered relentlessly, half-delirious from exhaustion.
Especially today, with outdoor filming, everything moved at a frantic pace.

“I’m losing it.”

There was so much work that even three bodies wouldn’t be enough. I’d heard endless warnings that working in the Art Department on set meant surrendering any semblance of work-life balance, but I never truly grasped what that meant until now.
After barely finishing the inventory and standing there in a daze, shoulders sagging with fatigue, the senior staff members who’d drifted over nearby sipped their coffees and spoke.

“Hey, this is actually pretty tame. You don’t even want to know about other filming sets—places that don’t give you time to rest or eat, just work you to the bone.”
“Really??”
“Yeah. And the mental stress just piles up on top of it all? You wouldn’t know yet, but… the actors on our set are absolute angels.”

The senior staff member lowered their voice, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening.

“You know that chaebol romance drama that was trending last year? The lead actor there actually said something like that. ‘What’s with a staff member carrying such an expensive bag? Don’t you have any sense of propriety?'”
“Wow… that’s insane.”
“Right? Star arrogance is absolutely rampant. They’re constantly rude to their own managers too. ‘Are your ears plugged? You want to work like this and get paid for it? Wouldn’t it be better for both our mental health if you just quit on your own?’ That kind of stuff is just everyday occurrence.”

The Junior Staff Member was taken aback by the examples the seniors were laying out.

“And they’re still okay after that? Celebrities make their living off their image!”
“Look, this is actually considered mild. Most of them look fine in front of the camera, but the moment they step outside the lens, you wouldn’t believe how many of them go absolutely crazy.”

My gaze dropped downward.
I had celebrities I’d loved since childhood. But once I started working in broadcasting, I’d been horrified more than once hearing rumors about them.
After that, it became difficult to appreciate celebrities with the same pure admiration as before.

“That’s why this filming set is heaven. How common do you think people like Min Ji-heon and Seo Ho-yoon are in this industry? There’s a reason they’re called Min the Kind and Seo the Kind.”
“True, both of them are incredibly kind. Especially to the staff.”

The beverages they were drinking now were also courtesy of Seo Ho-yoon, who had personally arranged for a coffee truck.

“I thought Seo Ho-yoon was prickly at first, but the more I see him, the more I realize he’s genuinely a great person, you know? He’s got such a good personality, and he’s always asking if there’s anything he can help with or anything we need.”

The Junior Staff Member’s mind drifted to a memory from a few days ago—Seo Ho-yoon helping a senior colleague carry heavy equipment.
I understood why they spoke so highly of him. I would have felt the same way if I’d experienced it myself.

Recently, the person garnering the most attention on Dead after Hope wasn’t Min Ji-heon—it was Seo Ho-yoon.
After the entertainment news program featuring him alongside Min Ji-heon aired, interview requests and offers came pouring in from all directions.

“We heard that all the smoking scenes weren’t actually real. Was all that white smoke coming out just CGI?”
“Ha ha, I’m sorry to say I received a lot of help from the production crew.”

People loved it, saying “So Seo Ho-yoon doesn’t even smoke!”

“There are so many jokes online about wanting to marry Seo Ho-yoon and then divorce him. Could you tell us your ideal type for those hoping to marry you—or divorce you?”
“I have no intention of getting married.”
“Pardon? Oh, no, but even a little….”
“I don’t.”
“If we hypothetically assume you did….”
“I don’t.”

His thorough avoidance of anything romantic—even ideal types—delighted people, who found it completely idol-like.

A talented actor who could act well, dance well, and cared deeply about his fans—a rising star.
That had been the reputation of actor Seo Ho-yoon until recently.
The Junior Staff Member glanced around cautiously before broaching the subject quietly.

“…But there’s been talk lately, you know? About Seo Ho-yoon….”
“Talk?”
“Yeah, it’s been huge since last week. You didn’t hear about it?”
“Oh, that.”

The seniors, who had been gazing at their coffee cups with the same warm affection they’d shown Seo Ho-yoon, suddenly turned sharp.

“That’s ridiculous.”

To summarize roughly: a famous actor A and a rookie actor B had clashed on the filming set.
More precisely, rumors circulated that rookie actor B had stolen A’s role by a hair’s breadth during auditions and gotten cast in the drama, yet whenever their eyes met on set, B hurled abuse at A.
People who encountered this gossip began investigating who the parties involved were, and soon discovered a magazine article stating that Lee Kang-seok had auditioned for the Kim Woo-ho role and made it nearly to the final selection.
So most people were convinced the protagonists of this rumor were Lee Kang-seok and Seo Ho-yoon.

“But isn’t that a bit strange? Ho-yoon has never been one to speak carelessly like that….”
“And doesn’t it feel like a scenario rigged too favorably for Lee Kang-seok? It was clear back then that Lee Kang-seok was plainly in the wrong. When the Assistant Director said no entry except for authorized personnel, he twisted things so much. If it weren’t for Seo Ho-yoon, he definitely would’ve said something outright.”
“Exactly. That rumor—didn’t Lee Kang-seok’s side spread it? The whole thing about losing the role and all.”

Publicly, Lee Kang-seok was handsome and well-mannered, earning him the reputation of being the perfect son-in-law, but in this industry, there were plenty of stories circulating about his conduct.

“Ahem.”

While everyone was grumbling about how blind people’s eyes were, a throat-clearing sound came from behind.
Shoulders jolting, I spun around to see Director Jung and,

“Hello.”

Seo Ho-yoon standing there.

“Oh, hello!”
“Haha, ah, you’re here.”

It wasn’t scandalous, but it was a sensitive topic, so the Junior Staff Member couldn’t quite look Seo Ho-yoon in the eye, embarrassed.

“…Seo Ho-yoon, did you enjoy the coffee!”
“Oh, no. Was there not enough?”
“Not at all. Even if everyone here drank a whole batch, it wouldn’t be lacking. Did you have some, Seo Ho-yoon?”
“Ah, caffeine doesn’t really affect me.”

Seo Ho-yoon smiled gently and responded naturally, and the seniors’ expressions softened slightly. Director Jung, watching him, let out a long sigh.

“Listen, everyone watch your words. Understood? You must be busy, so let’s each get back to what we need to do.”
“Yes~.”

Yet the seniors skillfully maintained a comfortable distance, hovering around their vicinity. They seemed eager to hear what conversation would unfold. The Junior Staff Member also kept a certain distance while pretending to work.

“You’re getting a rough deal, Seo Ho-yoon. For something like this to blow up right at the end of filming. You know you don’t need to worry about any of that nonsense, right?”

As Seo Ho-yoon drew a subtle smile across his lips and nodded slightly, Director Jung let out an awkward cough.

“Ahem, so, if Seo Ho-yoon knows the person, then it’s just a baseless rumor, so don’t keep it bottled up inside.”
“Haha.”

Then Seo Ho-yoon burst into laughter.

“Thank you, Director Jung.”
“….”
“It seems Director Jung has taken a liking to me too? You’re even worrying about me.”
“…Ugh, look at that nerve.”

As Director Jung wore an expression of exasperation, Seo Ho-yoon chuckled and steered the conversation back to work matters.
The gazes of three staff members who had been eavesdropping while organizing equipment and moving props collided. They quietly slipped away and gathered in a corner.

“Wow, his mental fortitude is seriously vibranium….”
“Seriously! How does he do that?”

As Seo Ho-yoon’s popularity had skyrocketed just as quickly, he was plummeting along with the label of ‘a rookie actor who got his role through nepotism and acts disrespectfully toward his seniors.’
Yet Seo Ho-yoon’s face was bright. In fact, his complexion seemed more radiant than usual…,

“Just as the Director said, he must have good nerve.”

He seemed almost excited.

‘No way. That’s too much of a stretch.’

“We’re starting filming!”
“Yes!”

At the Assistant Director’s words, the three scattered quickly.
Soon the sound of a clapper board snapping echoed.

[Kim Woo-ho finally received proper news of his younger brother—that Kim Woo-hyung might be dead. Min Han-jun couldn’t offer any consolation. He couldn’t possibly fathom his grief. Yet Kim Woo-ho himself, as if unbothered, suggests they move to the Gangwon Province Shelter.]

Originally, Kim Woo-ho’s appearance was only scheduled through Episode 5.
But after the Main Writer saw Episode 3, they sent word that they would urgently revise the script, and the scenes were substantially rewritten.

Min Han-jun had assumed Kim Woo-ho’s mental state would be unstable, but it wasn’t.
That night, in the late hours.
Waking from sleep, Min Han-jun realized Kim Woo-ho wasn’t in his bed. Then, a faint smell of cigarette smoke drifted from somewhere.
Following it, he found Kim Woo-ho gazing up at the sky.]

“…Kim Woo-ho.”

Seo Ho-yoon removes the cigarette from his lips, exhaling smoke in a colorless stream.

“…Why are you so composed?”

His eyebrows rise as if questioning why Ho-yoon came out instead of sleeping. Min Ji-heon, who had kept his mouth firmly shut, finally lowers his gaze and utters the words he’d implicitly forbidden himself to speak.

“Don’t you think your younger brother, Kim Woo-hyung, might be dead? Based on what we heard today….”

Like a tender leaf before the wind, Min Ji-heon’s eyelids trembled relentlessly.

“…No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up.”

Just as he turned to return to bed,

“…Han-jun.”

A quiet voice calls Min Ji-heon to a halt.

“Have you ever done archery?”

At the unexpected question, Min Ji-heon’s gaze slowly turns toward Seo Ho-yoon. He continues drawing on his cigarette, still looking at the sky.
The sky where the world has stopped, where stars now glitter like flecks of light scattered across black paint even above Seoul.

“In archery, the body can’t shake even slightly due to the nature of the sport. Did you know that?”
“…What?”
“Whether the wind blows or your hands tremble.”

Seo Ho-yoon looks down at his own hands.

“Even the slightest tremor at the starting point can drastically change the outcome.”
“…I’ve seen archery athletes measure their heart rates. Kim Woo-ho was genuinely calm during his active years.”
“Yeah, well.”

I clenched my fist, staring at Min Ji-heon while bringing the cigarette filter back to my lips with my other hand.

“In any case, mental peace is incredibly important for archers. Once it shatters, everything crumbles without limit. Just as it did for me.”

Kim Woo-ho had undergone rehabilitation after a traffic accident but failed to return as a national team archer. It wasn’t a physical problem.
Even the slightest psychological disturbance made his hands tremble.

“But conversely speaking, you see.”

After swallowing the last drag deep into my throat, I flicked the cigarette away with my fingertips.

“It just means I don’t have to be anxious.”
“….”
“For that single moment when I grip the bow, I decided to believe that I’m controlling all of this.”

Seo Ho-yoon gripped the bow he never separated from his body once more, firmly.

[In that moment, Kim Woo-ho’s fingertips don’t tremble in the slightest.]

“People believe whatever they want to believe anyway, and they spout all sorts of things about me—screw it.”

Kim Woo-ho’s words seemed to pierce through Seo Ho-yoon’s current situation as well. The camera captures the sharp, keen glint in his eyes.

“That kid shares my blood, so he’ll survive just as tenaciously as I do, no matter where he is.”
“…You believe that much?”
“I believe that much.”

And I’m going to do whatever it takes to make that belief become truth.
So the arrow’s tip never wavers.

“Simple, right?”

Kim Woo-ho pulled up the corners of his mouth.

.
.
.

After finishing today’s shoot and saying goodbye to the staff, everyone I encountered pressed snacks or drinks into my hands.

“What’s gotten into everyone today?”
“Come on, you know how much we all adore Seo Ho-yoon.”

I let out a soft chuckle and expressed my gratitude.
My Manager seemed preoccupied with a call some distance away from me, clearly harried by rumors spreading rapidly across the internet.

“Yes, it’s fine. The atmosphere on set is great too. Ah… Someone came looking for Seo Ho-yoon? No, I’m not sure who. We’ve been getting calls from so many places… Yes, I’ll handle it on my end for now. Yes. Yes.”

I tapped my Manager’s shoulder and gestured that I’d head to the van first, then moved away.

“Seo Ho-yoon, you’re leaving already?”

Just then, Min Ji-heon approached, cradling an armful of bread.

“Yes. Don’t come over here—just enjoy the bread over there.”

Min Ji-heon, whose eyebrows had twitched slightly, paid no mind and asked me a question.

“Aren’t you upset?”
“About what?”
“Just… given your personality, you seem awfully composed about it.”

So the story had reached his ears too.
Come to think of it, I’d known Lee Kang-seok was abusing his power even before it was exposed during Obscure Idol Tycoon.
Yet I’d let it slide anyway. I simply wanted to see how I would respond.
I clicked my tongue softly and spoke.

“Why would I be upset?”

Whenever I recalled those infuriating, despicable moments, my solution was always singular.

“I prove myself right.”
“Huh?”
“It’s a simple matter of demonstrating it.”

Min Ji-heon’s eyes narrowed slightly.
It was an expression this Min Ji-heon wore often—one of unmistakable wariness.
I twisted one corner of my mouth upward.

“Min Ji-heon, I’m curious about something.”
“…What strange thing are you about to say now?”
“Heh.”

I flicked his arm once, and Min Ji-heon flinched, stumbling backward. I stepped forward in kind, brushing my bangs back from my forehead.

“…What exactly are you curious about, senior? You’re old and full of outdated thinking.”
“Do I look like a rumor?”
“A rumor?”
“Like a junior who can cause trouble without holding back against his senior.”

Min Ji-heon’s body trembled, and the bread he’d been holding tumbled to the ground with a soft patter. He soon exhaled sharply, responding as if exasperated.

“…Doesn’t it look that way? Yeah, poor living witness right here.”
“I thought so.”

Not that I particularly cared.
I wanted this image of insubordination to burn even brighter.

“Anyway, forget it. Don’t get distracted by strange things.”

I picked up a piece of bread rolling across the floor and pressed it into Min Ji-heon’s hand, then smirked.
By the time today’s footage aired,

“You just worry about the ratings.”

People would be captivated by me anyway.

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