The Trashy PD Has To Survive as an Idol - 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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04

“Let’s scrap the plan.”
“What?!”

The Manager jumped at my words upon returning. His reactive nature seemed useful enough to plant in the audience later for broadcast purposes.
I tried to recall the Manager’s name, then abandoned the effort. My mind was already drifting toward broadcast considerations, so I turned away from him.

“We need to start over. I can’t do this song.”
“Hey, are you insane? What are you pulling right now? Do you not realize you just got here?”
“Manager, think about it again. Can we really succeed with this?”
“That’s… that’s… of course we can!”

He sounded remarkably unconvincing.

“Pop pop pop! Crunch crunch crunch like an apple!”

I regarded the hesitant Manager with pity. I rescind my earlier thought about the audience. If he were subordinate to me, I would have fired him on the spot.
His inability to grasp reality and his insistence on pushing forward anyway—that was incompetence.

“Whether you’re confident or not, I’m not. So we’re scrapping it.”
“Are you joking right now?”

Kim Sung-hyun, who had been listening quietly, suddenly stood and grabbed my shoulder. It happened often enough, but that didn’t mean I enjoyed it.

“What is this nonsense you’re pulling, showing up out of nowhere? Are you trying to curse us into ruin?”
“Why?”
“What do you mean why? Without you, we’re already finished—the deal’s done. If you’re suddenly back, stay quiet. Don’t wreck everything.”

Kim Sung-hyun had a temper.
Being threatened wasn’t pleasant, but at least someone with the will to act was preferable. I met Kim Sung-hyun’s gaze.

“Have you listened to the top 40 songs on the music charts?”
“What?”
“Never mind, let’s just stick with idol songs that chart. That’s incredibly difficult. Have you listened to them?”
“What nonsense is this?”

I observed Kim Sung-hyun, who still hadn’t grasped the situation. His youthful face continued to bristle with indignation, unable to contain his frustration.

“Trends shift and flood in every single day. We can’t just rely on songs that sell within South Korea anymore—we need to expand to overseas markets. To do that, major entertainment agencies spend enormous sums importing songs from the United States or the United Kingdom.”
“….”
“Or, alternatively, they get tracks from domestic genius composers.”
“So what’s your point?”

No patience whatsoever. I clicked my tongue.

“Do you really think our song would make it into that list? Do you honestly believe that ridiculous pineapple track could ever chart?”

Kim Sung-hyun was left speechless.

“This is a waste of money. A waste of time.”

I brushed Kim Sung-hyun’s hand away.
Everyone stared down at the floor with gloomy expressions. They had to accept reality, of course.
As the CEO had said, idol activities cost far more than people realize. A single music broadcast requires makeup, hair, styling, and labor costs that are astronomical. Even for an obscure idol group like The Dun, it was the same.
But promoting with a song like this? That’s just throwing money away.
Realizing the harsh truth, Kim Sung-hyun couldn’t counter and simply clenched his fists.

“So do we even have a better option? No, we don’t. That’s why we’re doing this.”
“Just doing it isn’t enough.”

I spoke bluntly.

“We have to be damn good.”

That’s right. For an idol, merely maintaining mediocre results wasn’t sufficient. If I was going to become a first-tier idol, I needed to make a spectacular debut from the very start.
Jung Da-jun, the youngest member who had been hesitating in the back, finally spoke up uncertainly.

“Seo Ho-yoon, but… you don’t have a solution either, do you?”
“Me?”
“If we follow what you’re saying, you’re suggesting we scrap this plan and bring in a different song, right? But how are we supposed to do that? The CEO has already given up on us….”

There has to be a way.
Before answering directly, I pulled up a chair and sat down. Unintentionally, everyone else remained seated on the practice room floor, which meant I was looking down at them from above. I quite liked that arrangement.

“Doesn’t it bother you, all of you?”
“What?”
“The time you spend in this practice room. The days you spend clinging to an uncertain future.”

Their eyes wavered. I had never been an idol, nor had I truly understood them, but through years of participating in competition programs, I could pretend to know their psychology better than anyone else. I deliberately spoke harshly.

“Other kids go to university and study, or they work at companies or pick up part-time jobs to earn money. But you’re just burning through your family’s money and the company’s funds.”
“Seo Ho-yoon.”

Surprisingly, Sung Ji-won, who had seemed the most docile, gave me a subtle warning. I looked at him.

“I understand you’re anxious, but don’t talk like that so carelessly. Speaking that way now doesn’t benefit any of us.”

I filed away Sung Ji-won’s peculiarities in my mind. Seeing the usually composed one get angry suggested he had family issues. Rather than reflect, the anxiety Sung Ji-won mentioned welled up even more intensely, so I raised my hand to show it.

“Listen.”
“…?”
“Let’s not live like that.”
“What?”
“Think back. When you all first entered this practice room, when you joined this entertainment agency—what were you thinking?”
“….”
“I wanted to earn tens of billions of won and buy my parents an apartment, or become an idol so famous that fans would go wild at the slightest gesture, whose name would appear in articles at the drop of a hat. That’s what you all wanted, wasn’t it?”

I had struck a nerve. Everyone fell silent. I understood their hesitation well enough. It was natural human desire, after all.

“But now, what are we doing? Just wasting away here, singing songs for the CEO’s orchard?”
“That’s….”
“You hate it, don’t you? You can’t do it, can you?”

Good. They were all confused now.
I saw my moment and lowered my brows, then sighed and let sweet words flow out.
Of course, I didn’t forget to pause for effect.

“…I’m just frustrated. Earlier, I spoke harshly about wasted money and wasted time without thinking, but it’s because I see your talent being wasted.”

Ah, I should have said “we” instead of “you guys.”
Well, it doesn’t matter.

“Trust me. Let’s scrap the plan. We can start over. I’ll make all the sweat you’ve shed in the practice room shine on stage.”

Everyone wavered. The Manager seemed to be wondering when Seo Ho-yoon had become such a silver-tongued orator.
And I decided to drive the final nail in here.

“And, Jung Da-jun.”
“Yes, yes?”
“When did I ever say there was no way?”

I’m not the kind of person who talks nonsense without substance.

[You’re awfully confident, aren’t you?]

‘Of course I am.’

The system window chimed into view. I glanced at it sideways.

‘Overturning all of this—that’s not breaking the rules, right?’

[Do as you please! Obscure Idol Tycoon respects the player’s freedom.]

Respect, my foot. It was just trying to trap me with dialogue boxes a moment ago.

“What method is that?”
“Obviously, there’s only one.”

Everyone’s eyes widened as they stared at me. It was only natural that attention would be drawn to this newcomer who had nearly turned everything into chaos, yet spoke with such unwavering confidence.

“A comeback with a good song.”

I adjusted my tone so that I sounded confident without appearing too arrogant.
The foundation of success is a good track.

“I’ll get a song from Blue Tiger.”
“From Blue Tiger?!”

Everyone jumped to their feet.
Blue Tiger. It wasn’t an exaggeration to call him one of South Korea’s finest composers. From ballads to idol tracks, he commanded every genre, and he was notorious for his arrogance to match his talent.
That’s why even major entertainment companies threw money at him, and singers or idols had to come begging just to receive a single song—because Blue Tiger’s work was a guaranteed commercial success.

“If it’s Blue Tiger, didn’t Black Call get a track from him before? The one with Joo Woo-sung? And it was a massive hit.”
“Plus, with Hyun-sung, the ballad king himself… Yeah, Blue Tiger would be huge.”

Jung Da-jun, our youngest member, and the Manager leaped at the prospect, but the rest of us frowned. As I’d said before, I preferred the realistic perspective.

“What… I thought it was nonsense, but it turns out it really is nonsense?”
“Yeah, I get what you’re thinking. But Blue Tiger only gives songs to major entertainment companies. And only to people who are already huge… How are we supposed to get our hands on one?”

Yeah, I knew this reaction was coming.
Even considering reality, it made sense—how could a half-baked idol group that hadn’t even properly debuted get a track from Blue Tiger? That was the logic.
But I, once again, am Seo Ho-yoon.

“I can get it.”
“Where does this confidence even come from?”
“Are you still hurt or something?”

The atmosphere in the practice room grew increasingly tense, as if they thought I was joking.
But I wasn’t joking. I spoke again, slowly and deliberately, each syllable crisp and clear.

“I will definitely get it. I promise.”
“…”

Silence filled the practice room. Everyone looked exhausted, caught between wondering if I was the world’s greatest liar or if I actually had the ability to pull this off, overwhelmed by my conviction.
I didn’t let that silence slip away.

“I’m going to make us succeed. The Dun. All of us.”

I have a method.
The air in the practice room shifted subtly. Everyone’s faces, which had been slack and resigned, now flickered with quiet anticipation, hope, and unmistakable wariness.
Good. This competitive tension was far better than the wilted, defeated expressions from before.
I let my lips curl into a smile.

“Believe me, even if it feels like a gamble.”

I’ll get you a meal.
Naturally, the rest of their reactions were cold. More precisely, they looked skeptical.
But honestly, it didn’t matter to me. I was going to make it happen anyway. I held up three fingers.

“Just wait four days.”
“You’re seriously going to get a song from Blue Tiger?”

Kim Sung-hyun doubted me. I deliberately ignored him.

“I’d recommend you guys just practice the basics. If you don’t want to trust me, go practice Pineapple instead. I won’t.”

And with that, I dropped a comment that deflated their confidence. Honestly, even if I felt bad, I didn’t want to waste time.
Fortunately, the comment seemed to work—they all started treading carefully.

“I’ll… trust you, Hyung.”
“Kang Yi-chae!”
“I mean, well… since things are already like this, it might not be bad to see how far we can go, right?”

Kang Yi-chae laughed and sided with me. Looking at him, it seemed like I was just an excuse—he probably didn’t want to do Pineapple in the first place. I just lit the fuse for him.
I nodded and glanced around before locking eyes with the Manager.

“Manager.”
“H-Ho-yoon.”
“Prepare the contract. We’ll discuss it again.”

I held the upper hand here. An idol being recycled into a comeback was normally supposed to grovel and read the room carefully, so the Manager looked confused.
That wasn’t my concern.

“See you in four days.”

I gave them a casual farewell and left. As I walked down the hallway, a system window chimed into view.

[Sudden Quest Arrived:
‘Obtain a comeback song!’
You’ve spouted some ridiculous nonsense!
Let’s see if it’s bluster or the real deal.
Success: Charm +10.
Failure: Fame decreases, must perform as center in Pineapple outfit.]

“…You really do enjoy this.”

I muttered the words with a bitter taste in my mouth as I left.
I had no intention of wearing a pineapple costume as a failure penalty, so I quickened my pace.

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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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