Producer Woo Hanseok of “Geubaekpeu” hadn’t sent the email to just one or two places. From the agencies known as the domestic Top 5 to large and mid-to-large companies, and so on and so forth. He had fired off dispatches to at least twenty places. He hadn’t staggered them, either.
On the same day, at the same hour, several entertainment agencies received Producer Woo Hanseok’s email.
“C-CEO! We got an email from ‘Geubaekpeu’!”
“‘Geubaekpeu’?! It was from Woo Hanseok, right? What does it say?!”
“To summarize, they’re going to gather everyone soon. It feels like they’re asking us to come if we have the time!”
“He’s finally called the meeting.”
However, agencies that were too small were excluded. It wasn’t out of disregard, but because if the giant entertainment companies entered the fray, then no matter what form it took, it wouldn’t be a game they could play. Besides, while that was true of the entertainment industry as a whole, the idol market in particular was one where the larger an agency was, the more properly it could exert its power.
Capital, experience, connections, systems—the larger the company, the wider the gaps became.
Every now and then, there were boy groups or girl groups that succeeded and were called miracles from small or medium-sized agencies, but they were the tiniest minority among minorities. Maybe one team every few years, if that. It was safe to say they practically didn’t exist. Of course, even idols who succeeded like that vanished after shining for a single year if their company’s push was weak.
The idol market was merciless beyond measure.
The small agencies knew perfectly well that they couldn’t handle it anyway, so they didn’t feel slighted.
“...I checked, and it looks like they sent emails to pretty much every agency of note—but we didn’t get one.”
“Well, even if we got caught up in a fight between dinosaurs, we’d only get our backs split open. On top of that, ‘Geubaekpeu’ has already surpassed 25% in viewership. And what about that monstrous fandom that’s already formed? One wrong move and before the dinosaurs crack our backs, the public might trample us to death.”
“Scary.”
“For tiny companies like ours, the perfect position is just to chew popcorn and watch.”
Small agencies had their own methods of survival.
“Don’t waste your energy on the big game. Start by searching among the kids eliminated from ‘Geubaekpeu’ and see if there’s anyone usable.”
That was why Producer Woo Hanseok had excluded small agencies from the start. In any case, the entertainment companies that received emails from the “Geubaekpeu” side grew excited and entered meetings almost simultaneously. They lacked enough information to devise a strategy, but they still needed to grasp the situation.
“JTVM can’t keep taking care of those kids forever, so I figured they’d start passing them around soon. What do you all think?”
“Once the broadcast ends, I suspect they’ll operate under ‘Geubaekpeu’ for a short period—two months if it’s brief, half a year if it’s long—then become independent.”
“That’s what I think too. If that’s the plan, then this is about the right time to settle things. So what do you think Woo Hanseok will say after gathering the agencies?”
“It’s obvious he’ll put forward conditions—but it’s hard to judge whether he’ll turn that into broadcast material or handle it outside the show.”
“Woo Hanseok is a bit of an eccentric.”
The information the various agencies had was limited to the “Geubaekpeu” broadcasts and contestants they’d been monitoring so far, as well as the filmography and tendencies of Producer Woo Hanseok, a major figure in the variety show world.
“If he sent a summons email to the agencies all at once, there’s a high possibility that when they gather, he’ll proceed with everyone together rather than separately.”
“Mm. In any case, no matter what, no matter how much it costs, we have to take them.”
“Yes. I think so too.”
Each agency threw itself into its meeting, burning with motivation and fighting spirit, and began assessing the contestants who were currently still alive. No. 58 and others were mentioned in order of popularity, and naturally, “No. 1” came up the most.
“Damn, I want the other kids too, but No. 1... I seriously want him so badly it’s driving me crazy. Even if you searched the entire current idol scene, there’s no one who beats No. 1’s visuals, and on ‘Geubaekpeu’ he’s shown top-tier vocals, choreography, and performance on top of that. His star quality is a given, and right now he’s even writing, isn’t he?”
“That’s right. Producer Woo Hanseok has kept everything thoroughly confidential, so it’s hard to dig up information, but even just looking at what’s surfaced, No. 1 is a monster-level catch.”
“An idol who’s also a writer—if he has that much tension to him, doesn’t it feel like he’s hiding other abilities too?”
The longer the meetings went on, the thicker each agency’s greed grew.
“Anyway, if we get those kids, it’s the lottery. No, it’s Powerball.”
At the same time.
The location was an outdoor park somewhere in Seoul. Filming setups such as cameras and lights were in full swing. Familiar faces could be seen. It was the filming crew of “Rental Lover.” Until now, most of the filming had been done on sets, and today, Tuesday, the “Rental Lover” team was attempting outdoor filming for the first time.
The “Rental Lover” team had settled near an area with wooden benches and exercise equipment.
A crowd of onlookers quickly gathered around them.
“We’re sorry!! Please step back just a little!”
“Please refrain from filming with your phones!!”
“We apologize for the inconvenience to foot traffic!! We’ll proceed with filming as quickly as possible!!”
“Rental Lover” was already a hot drama, and since famous actors like Choi Rina could be seen in the filming zone, the crowd that gathered screamed as they watched.
“Wow! Choi Rina!! Ah! Don’t push me!!!”
“Unni!! You’re so pretty!!”
“Whoa—Choi Rina is crazy pretty, isn’t she?”
It was a scene commonly seen whenever a drama or movie filmed outdoors. Because of that, Choi Rina and the actors were quite composed. Looking around, Kang Rojun was nowhere to be seen. Meanwhile, Producer Jeong Suryeong, her rough hair tied back, sat in front of the monitor.
“Hmm—”
She was checking what they would shoot today while looking over the filming storyboard. Just then, a man with acne on his face ran over. He was an assistant director. What was interesting was that he had several bundles of paper in his hands.
“Senior.”
“Yeah.”
“Here, what you asked for. I printed out only the first episodes!”
Producer Jeong Suryeong turned her head toward the assistant director and smiled crookedly.
“Okay, hand them over.”
As if she had been waiting for the bundles of paper, she received them immediately, skimmed through a few pages, then stood up. Her destination was the nearby parking lot. Producer Jeong Suryeong opened the passenger-side door of her own car among the filming vans.
“There are three works in total?”
Perhaps her mood had lifted, because her smile deepened. Naturally so.
“I wonder what kind of flavor Writer Kang Cheolsu’s full-length works will have?”
The scripts she had received were other works by Writer Kang Cheolsu. She wanted desperately to read them right away, but she held herself back. For now, filming “Rental Lover” came first. That was why she intended to read them bit by bit whenever she had time.
After placing the scripts on the passenger seat, Producer Jeong Suryeong murmured in a tone full of anticipation.
“They’re treasures. Treasures.”
Several hours later, late afternoon. The “Geubaekpeu” campus.
The contestants, having finished their day’s schedule, were wrapping up the day. Some were in the practice rooms, some in their rooms, some in the showers. The same was true for Kang Rojun. Having spent a busier day than anyone else, he could be found in the lounge where a few contestants were present.
“Shall we stop around here?”
“Yes, No. 1.”
He was with No. 58, who had a baby perm. They had just finished everything from Japanese conversation to studying composition. The composition lesson this time had also focused on the basics. However, Rojun was steadily understanding it. Not only composition, but while he was in “Geubaekpeu,” his perspective on music was broadening through vocals, choreography, lyric writing, and many other things.
‘I can definitely compose even if I don’t know how to read notes—but that’d only be half complete. If I know music and can handle instruments, it’ll probably be a hundred times easier.’
At best, he was still only learning the basics, and the time spent learning was short, so no notification had appeared saying that “Composition” had been unlocked among his stats. Still, there was no reason to rush.
Just then.
“No. 1.”
No. 58 whispered.
“Please wait just a little longer.”
Wait for what? Did he have something to say? I’m hungry, though. Around the time Kang Rojun thought of dinner, No. 58 continued.
“I’m almost done.”
Ah—that side? No. 58 was talking about composing the commissioned “Geubaekpeu” theme song. Rojun smiled faintly and answered as if it was fine.
“You don’t have to rush. I have a lot to do.”
“Right? Since you’re also a writer and a lyricist. But how do you write lyrics?”
“I just—listen to the song and write whatever comes to mind.”
“...Ah.”
No. 58, who had forced a smile, looked around the lounge.
“The contestants don’t look so good.”
“I suppose they wouldn’t. Voting for Groups 2 and 3 wraps up today. You seem the same as usual, No. 58.”
No. 58, who was in Group 2, scratched his head.
“I’m just pretending. I feel like I’m dying right now. I’m so nervous.”
“...”
A few hours later, voting for Groups 2 and 3 ended.
Wednesday morning.
When Kang Rojun had finished his daily mission, stat enhancement, and even his shower, Producer Woo Hanseok’s voice rang out from the dormitory speakers.
“Contestants from Groups 2 and 3, please gather in the hall now. Additionally, Group 1, please wait in your respective rooms.”
Since the voting was over, it meant they would film the announcement of the results. The members of Groups 2 and 3 began gathering in the center of the hallway. Their faces were extremely stiff. Among them were No. 19, No. 37, and No. 58 from Room 105.
The cameras filmed the contestants for a moment, and the staff moved ahead.
Groups 2 and 3 arrived in the hall, where the filming setup had been completed and an oppressive silence hung. For several minutes, the members of Groups 2 and 3 were arranged on stage, and once preparations were finished, Producer Woo Hanseok, playing the role of the grim reaper, stood before the contestants. In one hand was a tablet.
“...”
Producer Woo Hanseok quietly looked at the contestants.
“The voting for Groups 2 and 3 has ended. In my hand are the results that determine your survival.”
He spoke calmly.
“Contestants who have been eliminated, please leave ‘Geubaekpeu’ as you are.”
All of Groups 2 and 3, more than twenty people in total, swallowed dryly. Some contestants could be seen trembling faintly. Even No. 19 and No. 37, who were usually high-tension, were serious now, and No. 58 had his eyes closed. Whether they did or not, Producer Woo Hanseok continued his briefing.
“I will announce Group 2 first.”
The scrawny No. 19 and the eye-closed No. 58 flinched. They were in Group 2.
“...No. 19, you are eliminated.”
No. 19 from Room 105 was called from the very start. Unfortunately, he had been eliminated. No. 19’s eyes widened briefly, but then, as if accepting it, he looked up at the ceiling and let out a long sigh.
“Hoo—”
Then he met No. 58’s eyes and smiled faintly.
“It was fun.”
“...”
After greeting the staff as well, No. 19 left the hall. Producer Woo Hanseok’s death sentence continued. Contestants with grief, sorrow, and regret on their faces disappeared one by one.
Before long.
“Congratulations on your survival.”
The announcement for Group 2 ended. As with Group 1, there were eight survivors in Group 2. Among them were No. 58 and No. 46, who had received an A+ from Lee Hanna for the choreography evaluation. Producer Woo Hanseok spoke to those Group 2 survivors.
“Group 2 survivors, please step slightly toward the back.”
Next was Group 3’s turn. No. 37 from Room 105, whose skin tone was coppery, clenched both fists tightly. Once again, the death sentences fell quietly. Like Group 2, the contestants left the hall one by one.
And so the announcement for Group 3 ended as well.
In the end, both Groups 2 and 3 had eight survivors each, and fortunately, No. 37 survived. After congratulating all sixteen of them, Producer Woo Hanseok signaled to the staff, and soon the doors of the hall opened as eight more contestants entered. Seeing Kang Rojun mixed among them, it seemed to be Group 1. Before long, twenty-four people—eight each from Groups 1, 2, and 3—had gathered on stage.
The final survivors of the third evaluation.
What had been thirty-eight was now twenty-four. Roughly thirty percent had vanished. Since nearly eighty out of the original hundred had disappeared, the volume of contestants standing on stage had noticeably shrunk. Rojun looked around. He found No. 37 and No. 58, but No. 19 was nowhere to be seen. Guessing the reason, Kang Rojun let out a small sigh.
‘...I didn’t get to say goodbye.’
Even during his hideous days, he had preferred being alone, but after entering the campus, whether he liked it or not, they had been comrades he’d been thrown together with. It was only natural for complicated feelings to arise. In any case, Room 105 now had three people. Meanwhile, as if intending to change the mood, Producer Woo Hanseok put strength into his voice.
“Once again, congratulations on your survival. From now on, there are many things to decide! First, we’ll reorganize the groups!”
As soon as his shout ended, the familiar black square box was set up in front of Producer Woo Hanseok. The contestants, including Kang Rojun, grasped the intention at once, and Producer Woo Hanseok looked at Rojun and nodded.
“No. 1, please draw first, then we’ll proceed in order.”
First up again? Well, Rojun was used to it by now, and he drew a ball from the square box. The words “Group 2” were immediately visible.
“No. 1 is in Group 2.”
After that, all the contestants drew balls, then lined up again according to the newly assigned Groups 1 and 2.
Group 1, twelve people. Group 2, twelve people.
No. 37, his roommate who stood beside Kang Rojun in Group 2, whispered.
“Only No. 58 is in Group 1. That’s a shame.”
From Room 105, Kang Rojun and No. 37 were in Group 2, and only No. 58 was in Group 1. No. 15 with yellow hair could also be seen on the Group 2 side. That was when Producer Woo Hanseok cut in.
“Now I’ll brief you on the fourth evaluation.”
At the same time, another black square box was added in front of him, making two, and beside Woo Hanseok, a large roulette wheel was set up.
“In the fourth evaluation, Group 1 and Group 2 will compete against each other, not within the same group.”
According to the explanation, the same group didn’t matter; they would be waging war against the opposing group.
On top of that.
“Additionally, this time, unlike the second and third evaluations, it will not be one-on-one or a group battle. It will proceed two-on-two.”
A two-on-two team battle, being carried out for the first time.
“In Groups 1 and 2, six teams each will be formed, from Team A to Team F.”
It would be a two-on-two team battle, and the six fixed teams—A, B, C, D, E, and F—would clash against the six teams on the other side. Soon, Producer Woo Hanseok pointed to the roulette wheel standing beside him.
“Then let’s decide the assignment for the fourth evaluation.”
On the roulette wheel, at equal intervals, the words Vocal, Choreography, and Rap were written repeatedly, and Woo Hanseok spun it with force. All the cameras filmed the roulette wheel, and the eyes of all twenty-four contestants, including Kang Rojun, were fixed on the same place.
The rapidly spinning roulette began to slow.
At last.
—Swish.
The arrow at the twelve o’clock position on the wheel pointed to the result. Rojun reacted briefly in his mind.
‘Ah.’
Producer Woo Hanseok announced powerfully to everyone.
“The assignment for the fourth evaluation, the two-on-two team battle, is ‘Rap.’”