“Switch each other’s parts by surprise after performing the stage as planned?”
At judge Gong Jumi’s idea, PD Woo Han-seok crossed his arms and let out a hum.
“Hmm—”
Woo Han-seok normally wouldn’t change a system he had established, yet this time, he seemed to be deep in thought for some reason.
*It’s not bad.*
Setting everything else aside, the idea was good. There were a few sticking points here and there—the complaints of participants or the disgruntled viewers watching the broadcast. But he had to endure that much to get a worthwhile picture.
PD Woo Han-seok, with over a decade of experience, knew this better than anyone.
*Above all, “The 100%” is a survival show. These kinds of sudden twists popping up now and then add flavor.*
They guaranteed the participants’ convenience and freedom as much as possible, but were merciless during evaluations. Having made up his mind, PD Woo Han-seok nodded to the judges.
“Sounds fun? I think you can try it as you wish. Do it comfortably, and I’ll take care of the editing later.”
“Okay— Ah, but as you know, the participants—”
“Of course, no one will know.”
Perhaps because their interest was piqued, the judges began talking more. Amidst this, veteran singer Yun Seung-won asked,
“Half get eliminated again in this second round, right?”
“Yes. I’m waiting to see how many we’ll save in the revival round and what format it’ll take.”
“Well, since there’ll be audience votes from the second round, there will be many variables.”
At the mention of audience voting, the judges felt anew how fast time was passing.
“Is the first broadcast already next week?”
“It’s flying by, flying by. What do you think the ratings will be? The public response was no joke.”
“Who knows. Still, we’re editing as nicely as possible, so I have high hopes.”
“Ah, stop being modest. Since it’s PD Woo’s work, it’ll be another hit! I hope it blows up so much that Neotube and everywhere else gets flooded with ‘The 100%.’”
If an audition variety show flops, it disappears without a trace, but if it even becomes a moderate hit, its impact is tremendous. Songs from audition programs dominate the upper ranks of music platforms, and edited clips conquer numerous video platforms including Neotube.
Countless benefits arise from this.
The most certain among them is the participants’ recognition skyrocketing exponentially.
Among the judges who knew this, Lee Da-mi muttered expectantly.
“The ratings are one thing, but I’m curious how fast that Number One guy’s views will rack up—”
Composer Song Min-geun retorted.
“If you plaster just his face on the thumbnail, it’s guaranteed a million views.”
Meanwhile.
The filming of ‘The 100%’ training camp, where participants began training in earnest, proceeded without major issues. The participants’ days before the second evaluation were quite simple. Eat, train, individual practice, brief interviews with staff.
Kang Ro-jun, however, was a bit different.
*I feel like I just closed and opened my eyes, and it’s already morning. Ugh, my whole body is screaming with muscle pain. Sigh— running is a hassle… but I have to do it.*
He started his morning workout alone, ate, and headed to the practice room when others went to training. Though he had already perfectly learned the choreography for “brake,” he didn’t rest.
\-♬♪
Because he knew that the more he repeated practice, the more skillfully his body moved. How should he put it—perhaps the faint resistance or unfamiliarity was disappearing? It might have been Ro-jun’s imagination, but it was unconditionally good to practice more. At least, that’s what Kang Ro-jun thought.
*Since it’s a male-female duet, who knows how it’ll be with a partner in front of me. I can’t exactly just fool around either. If I do more of what I’m good at, I’ll get better, I suppose.*
When practice ended, he wrote in the lounge. Not writing with determination, but tapping away at the keyboard moderately, lightly—like before.
And so several days passed in a flash.
Before he knew it, it was July 19th.
It was the first weekend since the training camp began, and ‘The 100%’ operated until Saturday. Sunday was a rest day for both participants and production crew. Dozens of participants mostly stayed in their lodgings to relieve a week’s worth of fatigue. However, Kang Ro-jun did not rest.
Because his trainer, the “AI Simulation,” had no mercy.
However, an interesting phenomenon unfolded here.
“Uhh?? Contestant Number One, you’re going out to exercise even though it’s Sunday?!”
“Oh my— Wow, I can’t just watch! Number One! Can I come with you too??”
“Ah, then should I go too??”
“I don’t mind, but I run for a long time.”
“I have pretty good stamina too! Shall all of Room 105 just go?”
The point was that colleagues were beginning to form around Kang Ro-jun, who exercised in the mornings. The high-tension Number 19 and Number 37 took the lead, and Number 88, who had good reactions, followed. Number 58, who was timid, seemed like he would drop out, but…
“…Then I’ll go too.”
In the end, a five-person party was formed. Kang Ro-jun, who always ran alone, was a bit awkward despite playing it cool.
*What the hell, it’s not even a running crew. They’re going to drop dead if they suddenly run for an hour.*
At any rate, the unusual scene caught the attention of participants resting in the lodgings.
“Look over there, Number One always went out to exercise alone, but now a few more people joined him??”
“Ah—you’re right. They’re from the same room.”
“Huh? A camera’s going over! Didn’t they say staff have today off? Are they filming because it’s unusual?”
“Damn, should I start running from tomorrow?”
They monopolized the attention of some staff members.
Well, of course, everyone except Kang Ro-jun.
“Huff—ugh—I can’t! I can’t run anymore!”
“…K-keuk! I almost threw up.”
After running for about 20 minutes, they were all panting. Especially Number 58 with the baby perm, who was quietly going—urk, urk. Soon, the members of Room 105 collapsed on the floor and gawked at Ro-jun, who was running energetically.
“No, why is Contestant Number One so energetic? Is he an ironman?”
“H-how can he do this for an hour…”
“He said he does strength training right after running too.”
“Save us.”
While running without a hitch, Kang Ro-jun praised himself.
*My stamina has definitely improved; it wasn’t like this before. My exercise volume has increased, but there must be an AI Simulation boost too.*
Ro-jun felt his overall stats growing, and at that moment, he felt a short vibration from the smartwatch on his wrist.
\-Vrrr.
\-[Hidden Mission ‘Building Bonds with Your First Comrade!’ has been achieved! 15 coins have been rewarded as a gift.]
It was an overpowered bonus.
Morning of the 20th.
Kang Ro-jun, having finished his daily mission, checked his current coins while going to get food.
\-[Title: Side Hustle Rich]
\-[User: Kang Ro-jun / Age: 24 / Height: 182.8 / Desired Job: Idol / Side Hustle: [1] Screenwriter+1 / Coins Held: 316]
He had recovered what he spent. Just then, a call rang. The caller was PD Jeong Su-ryeong. Ro-jun tilted his head.
*What is it?*
Kang Ro-jun stopped walking and put his phone to his ear.
“Yes, PD-nim. Hello.”
PD Jeong Su-ryeong’s voice came through the phone. Her tone was slightly excited.
“Writer-nim—you’ve been well?? I called to share some good news.”
“Good news?”
“Yes. The one-act ‘Rental Lover,’ it looks like it’ll go into production right away. Isn’t that great??”
Huh? This quickly? Didn’t you say it would take a while?
“That was fast. Last time you said—”
“Yeah, I know. I said if it gets delayed by half a year, it could go to next year. But circumstances on this side pushed it way up. And one more thing! I’m going to direct ‘Rental Lover.’”
“You, PD-nim?”
“Yes—due to various circumstances, I ended up doing it. Isn’t that great?”
Why does she keep asking if it’s great. As Kang Ro-jun scratched his chin, she spoke again from the other end.
“Ah—anyway, ‘Rental Lover’ production is confirmed, but it’s hard to go over details over the phone. We need to have a first production-slash-script meeting, director to writer. What do you think? I can come to where you are.”
If Jeong Su-ryeong came here, it would be more comfortable, but for Ro-jun, it was a bit difficult.
“No. I’ll go there. But could I let you know the date after I check?”
“Of course. For today, I just wanted to greet you as the director. Still, let me know quickly.”
“Understood.”
“Please take care of me, writer-nim—”
\-Click.
The call ended. Kang Ro-jun roughly ate his meal and told a nearby staff member to get word to PD Woo Han-seok. He was in the production crew’s quarters, and fortunately, Ro-jun received permission to come.
Several tens of minutes later, Ro-jun entered the indicated room.
It was a room the production crew had converted into a meeting room, and there sat PD Woo Han-seok alone, sipping coffee.
“PD-nim.”
“Oh, oh, oh—you’re here? Sit. Coffee?”
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah, so what did you want to say?”
“Actually, a script I wrote won a broadcasting station contest, with highest honors.”
“…What?”
PD Woo Han-seok’s eyes widened. Regardless, Ro-jun calmly explained the matter. Only the key parts regarding ‘Rental Lover.’ It was a fairly short explanation, but PD Woo Han-seok’s mouth fell open.
“S-so—Ro-jun-sshi wrote the script, and it won the contest? It’s going into production at SBC soon, you mean??”
“Yes. I haven’t heard the details yet.”
“…So the writer you used as an example last time was actually you?? Wow—this is another novel twist.”
PD Woo Han-seok looked at Ro-jun and thought, what kind of cheat character was this. He was god-tier just standing still, had outstanding vocals, and to top it off, writing chops. Though he was in the variety department, he had worked at the broadcasting station for over a decade, so…
*It’s not easy. A public broadcasting station writer’s contest isn’t just anyone’s game. How can he talk so calmly about winning a contest??*
He did so because he knew how tough contests were.
*No wonder—the kids said he was writing something like crazy in the lounge. Was he writing a script??*
It was slightly absurd. Doing a side hustle during this survival shoot where a bloody battle was unfolding. At the same time, PD Woo Han-seok detected Kang Ro-jun’s future ripple effect.
*…If it’s a one-act, if filming starts right away, it’ll air around September? October? By then, ‘The 100%’ will be over schedule-wise. When his recognition soars from the broadcast… if this writer project hits—it’s a proper investment piece.*
He didn’t know the script’s contents, and Kang Ro-jun could be eliminated from ‘The 100%.’ Still, this project would definitely be profitable.
*It could even become a hot topic depending on how much this guy blows up.*
At that moment, Ro-jun asked PD Woo Han-seok.
“Would it be possible for me to go out?”
“If you’re a writer, you have to attend production meetings—if you tell me in advance like this, that much is possible. Keep in mind the points I mentioned last time.”
“Thank you.”
“Well, nothing to thank me for. Anyway, let’s keep this between you and me for now.”
PD Woo Han-seok, who had been watching Kang Ro-jun nod carefully.
*Why is a guy overflowing with star quality only moving now? The more I look, the more talent and ability overflow from him.*
He scratched his head briefly and changed the subject.
“And about Ha-yeong? The one assigned the female part for ‘brake.’”
“Yes.”
“It was originally split between the 22nd and 23rd for you and Number Ten to match timing, right? But Ha-yeong seems to have a sudden schedule on the 22nd. The 23rd is fine, but she’s asking if we could move just the 22nd to tomorrow. What do you think, Ro-jun? Of course, I’ll ask Number Ten too.”
“I don’t mind. Then I’ll match up with her first tomorrow.”
“Oh, you’ll do that?”
Whether a day earlier or later, it wasn’t a big problem for the current Kang Ro-jun.
“Then you’ll meet Ha-yeong after breakfast tomorrow.”
The next day.
A van stopped at ‘The 100%’ campus. Getting off was a woman with hair down to her waist, an overall vulpine beauty. That is, Ha-yeong, who had taken the female part in “brake.”
Wearing a short-sleeved shirt and loose training pants for practice, she met PD Woo Han-seok right away.
She bowed deeply at the waist.
“Sorry! My schedule suddenly got tangled up! I’m truly sorry!”
“It’s fine, that kind of thing is common when you’re new. There’s no problem with today’s schedule to match timing, right?”
“Yes! I can stay all day!”
“Haha, you’ve got good fighting spirit. Ah—the contestant matching with Ha-yeong today is Number One, and that friend is… his face is one thing, but overall he’s somewhat peculiar.”
“Is he?”
“Yeah. Ah, and his choreography skills might be somewhat lacking. Especially since he hasn’t been receiving training, so match up with him, and if you see something lacking, you can give him light advice. Nothing too serious.”
“I’m quite lacking myself…”
“But you have real-world experience, don’t you? Anyway, you can head over right away.”
Ha-yeong bowed politely, tied her long hair up tightly, and followed the staff’s guidance. At the same time, her heart was slightly racing.
*If it’s Number One, it’s that person from back then? Insanely handsome.*
Because of Number One who had turned girl groups upside down. Still, Ha-yeong somehow steadied her mind. She came here to work, not to play.
*Hoo—calm down. You’ll get used to it if you keep seeing him.*
Soon, Ha-yeong entered the spacious practice room.
Inside, Ro-jun was in the middle of doing push-ups. He turned his head at the presence, sprang up, and approached Ha-yeong.
\-Swish.
Sweating, he swept his black hair back and greeted her briefly.
“Hello.”
The moment Ha-yeong saw Kang Ro-jun standing right in front of her, she took a step back. She had stepped back unconsciously.
*Wow—he’s so handsome it’s scary.*
Ha-yeong, who had been staring blankly up at Kang Ro-jun for a moment, barely came to her senses.
“Ah, sorry—no. Hello.”
“What shall we do first?”
“Huh?? Ah! Then shall we try the choreography first? We’ll talk about what needs to be discussed after we try.”
“Alright. I’m the second verse.”
“Yes, yes. I got it from the staff.”
Ha-yeong skillfully set up the laptop. Soon, “brake” played in the practice room.
\-♬♪
Kang Ro-jun and Ha-yeong stood in the center of the practice room. Ha-yeong stood in front, striking the floor with one foot to catch the rhythm.
“I’ll count. Come in with the choreography at the end.”
“Yes.”
Ha-yeong’s count ended on timing. Immediately, the two launched into the “brake” duet choreography. The practice room filled with the resounding song, the sound of shoes dragging across the floor, and their heavy breathing.
And so, a few minutes later.
“Hoo—”
As the song ended, Ro-jun caught his breath for a moment and asked Ha-yeong.
“How was it?”
Ha-yeong, who was similarly breathing heavily, stared at Kang Ro-jun as if she had short-circuited. At the same time, what PD Woo Han-seok had said to her earlier came to mind.
*Give him advice? There’s nothing to give??!*
She thought it was absurd.
*Isn’t this something I should be receiving instead??*