In the middle of choosing a song, No. 26 suggested an original rap. Thanks to that, Gang Rojun was reminded of No. 58’s “Witch,” which he had written lyrics for not long ago.
‘So he knows how to compose too.’
Thinking there were a lot of hidden masters around, Rojun asked No. 26,
“You make your own raps?”
No. 26 nodded calmly and answered,
“I think I make them every day. When you’re here, a lot of things come to mind. I write lyrics every day too. I just jot them down first and combine them later.”
“Ah—”
“I just thought of some rap lyrics a moment ago and wrote them down.”
Apparently, he had been looking at his phone because he was writing lyrics.
“Since the core of ‘Geubaekpeu’ is survival, there are a lot of ideas to use. My own emotions, of course, and if you look through the contestants, there are plenty of interesting stories. The thrill when you survive, the pain after being eliminated, the tension during survival judging, the jealousy that rises when you see a talented contestant, the frustration you feel when you practice like hell, the despair that spreads when your skills stagnate. Anyway, since coming here, I’ve written five rap songs.”
Rojun felt there was a lot he could relate to. As a writer and lyricist, he wrote in a similar way to No. 26. When Gang Rojun slowly nodded, No. 26, who had been reciting it all in a plain tone, scratched his head.
“I’m not bragging. I’m just saying.”
He looked toward No. 58 again and continued.
“I saw No. 58 taking notes often too, so I asked, and it turns out he knows how to compose. But over there, he does any genre, while I can only do rap.”
“Mm—when you saw No. 58 rap, who do you think is better?”
“I always do it thinking I’m better, no matter what.”
Gang Rojun smiled faintly. He had roughly figured out No. 26’s personality. Just then, No. 26 met Rojun’s eyes.
“But isn’t speaking formally kind of uncomfortable?”
Gang Rojun agreed simply.
“Should we talk casually?”
“Yeah. We’re on the same team, so for now, let’s drop it.”
“Sure. That’s more comfortable for me too. Better for communicating.”
“We’re not allowed to talk about personal info anyway. We can sort out ages later.”
No. 26 was the first person Gang Rojun had spoken casually with since coming to “Geubaekpeu.” It wasn’t like he couldn’t have done it with Room 105 either, but as things had passed by, it felt like he had missed the timing. In any case, Rojun sensed something familiar from No. 26.
‘Straightforward. Not bad.’
No. 26 had a similar feel to the tsundere-like older men from back when he worked construction. Rough in actions and speech, but when it came to work, he did it properly and looked after you in his own brusque way. At first glance, people might say No. 26 was rude, but Gang Rojun, who had spent quite a long time with construction workers, found No. 26 all right.
“Okay, then for the assignment song, we’ll use the original rap you wrote.”
“Yeah. You sure it’s okay? You’ll have more to adjust to than me. You’ll have to listen to rap and lyrics nonstop starting now.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Gang Rojun answered without hesitation, and No. 26 nodded expressionlessly. In truth, Rojun had previously experimented to see if things like original songs could be handled through “AI Automation.” Of course, the test song had been “Witch.” The result?
‘As always, totally possible.’
As if “AI Automation” had no limits, the result had come out quickly. As long as there were coins, “AI Automation” was invincible. No. 26, who had no way of knowing that, tossed out his words casually.
“Among rappers, there are people who are uniquely handsome, but there’s no one who’s insanely, ridiculously, crazy-level gorgeous like you, No. 1. That’s why you’ll draw attention. There won’t be a problem. If you ride the groove a bit and split the beat decently, your face included, your whole existence will come off as hip.”
“You mean my color?”
“Yeah. Your own color, atmosphere, swag. Stuff like that. Surprisingly, the rap market has a strong bias. There are plenty of cases where someone looks like a bookish nerd, but then their tone is so insane that it flips the room.”
“So I can think of it as a reversal.”
“That works too. Stage performance is important as well. But for you, your visuals alone already complete the performance, so I’ll work my ass off to heat up the atmosphere.”
For this fourth evaluation, not only were they free to choose the rap song for the competition, but they were also free to design the stage itself. Outfits, concept, direction, and so on. No. 26 was deciding those things now, and Gang Rojun offered his opinion.
“If the visuals are crazy and the performance is good too, wouldn’t it explode even more?”
“You said it’s your first time rapping.”
“It is, but since we’re a team, I’m saying we should heat up the atmosphere together.”
“Fine. Then we’ll finalize the stage direction gradually. I’ll narrow down a few of my original raps and play them for you.”
“Yeah.”
No. 26 took wireless earbuds out of the pocket of his tracksuit pants and handed one over. Gang Rojun took the left earbud, No. 26 the right. As soon as they each put one in, No. 26 operated his phone, and soon rap rang through the earbuds.
-♬♪
The moment he heard it, Rojun was inwardly startled.
‘Whoa—shit, he’s damn good at rapping too.’
It felt different from No. 58, but his skill was on par? The rap, matched to No. 26’s deep voice, also had a heavy tone. And yet he played with the beat freely. If Gang Rojun had a low voice, No. 26’s was closer to thick. Most of all.
‘The rap’s good too.’
The first rap song he heard struck his ears hard. Then No. 26 moved his thumb again.
“That was the first rap. Next is this one.”
The second original rap played. If the first consisted only of rap, the second was a rap that seemed like it would appeal to the public. An addictive vocal part was inserted in the hook or chorus. Like that, No. 26 played a total of four songs, and after finishing the original raps, he asked dryly,
“Which one’s better?”
Rojun, without thinking long, answered right away.
“They were all good, but I like the first and second. If we’re going to tear it up with rap alone, the first one. If we’re going for public appeal, the second.”
“You know if we go only with rap, the votes might get split when people vote, right? Instead, if we go with the second, it can appeal more broadly and pull in more votes.”
“So it’s whether we go with the second while considering votes, or just look at pure rap and go with the first?”
“Right.”
The two fell into quite an in-depth conversation. Rojun suddenly thought to himself, ‘I can’t believe I’m having a conversation like this.’ Around then, a camera came over, but Gang Rojun and No. 26 continued their conversation as if they didn’t care. No. 26 began.
“I’m leaning toward the second one. You can take the vocals.”
Gang Rojun, who had been stroking his chin, shook his head.
“It’s better to go with pure rap and tear it up. Clean, without anything unnecessary.”
“······”
“Are you maybe thinking of the second one because of me?”
“No, well, a little.”
Since Gang Rojun was new to rap, No. 26 had suggested an original rap that included vocals. That way, Rojun’s burden would be reduced to some extent. But Gang Rojun smiled as if it were no big deal.
“Forget it. There won’t be a problem. Let’s go with the first one.”
No. 26 changed his mind within a few seconds too.
“Okay. Then with ‘Small Fry.’ Ah, the rap’s title is ‘Small Fry.’”
Afterward.
Gang Rojun and No. 26, having gathered their opinions, continued exchanging other small bits of conversation until No. 26 requested something from Rojun.
“Give me your Talk ID. I’ll send you ‘Small Fry.’”
Gang Rojun and No. 26 exchanged contact information, and No. 26 added that he would send the original rap along with the lyrics and sheet music. Rojun looked down at the rap “Small Fry” that arrived on his phone and decided,
‘First, let’s run AI Automation.’
No. 26 put his phone into his pocket and said,
“And since it’s my original rap, I’ll take care of dividing the parts.”
“Yeah, that’s easier.”
“I’ll divide it equally. Of course, we’ll discuss it before practice too. If you don’t like something, you can cut it.”
“Then that’s it for today. I’ll keep listening to ‘Small Fry.’”
“I’ll start with the part distribution—and you and I can think about stage direction, concept, outfits, and stuff whenever we have time.”
“Agreed.”
As soon as the conversation ended, Gang Rojun and No. 26 stood up and left the hall. Among both Group 1 and Group 2, Rojun’s team disbanded the fastest. The remaining teams were still gathered in the hall, racking their brains. Then, as No. 26 strode ahead with quick steps, someone called Gang Rojun from behind.
“No. 1—”
When he turned around, PD U Hanseok, with dark circles under his eyes, was lifting the corners of his mouth. No. 26 glanced back briefly, then hurried on his way again, and PD U Hanseok approached Rojun, who had stopped.
“You’re already done talking with No. 26?”
“Yes.”
“Haha, No. 26, huh—you’ve been paired with another interesting character.”
PD U Hanseok, watching No. 26’s back as he grew distant, crossed his arms.
“No. 26 is stiff, isn’t he? But he’s fairly popular among the viewers.”
“I didn’t find him bad. I’ve dealt with personalities like that before.”
“Really? That’s a relief. I’m looking forward to seeing what kind of picture No. 1 and No. 26 will make together.”
With his smile deepening, PD U Hanseok started walking as if suggesting they walk a little.
“I talked with PD Jeong Suryeong. During this fourth evaluation, there won’t be any filming for ‘Rental Lover.’”
“Yes. I heard. There are only about two days’ worth of filming left anyway, so even if we start after the fourth evaluation ends, I think it’ll be finished quickly.”
“And was there, by any chance, any entertainment company you’d always wanted?”
Entertainment company? Did he mean an agency? There was no way he had one. Gang Rojun only knew of the famous entertainment companies; he had never been particularly interested.
“No.”
“None at all?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm—then when you have some time, at least search them up.”
“Understood.”
After patting him on the shoulder a couple of times, PD U Hanseok turned back toward the hall, and Gang Rojun arrived not at Room 105, but at the bathroom he often used. In the quiet atmosphere, Rojun lifted his phone. What he opened was the “AI Simulation” app. When he pressed the “AI Automation” button, a familiar phrase appeared.
-[Through “AI Automation” analysis, your desired result can be derived. What would you like to derive? (Only things related to the desired occupation of idol are possible)]
Gang Rojun typed what he had already thought of.
-[AI Automation: I want to perfectly learn the original rap “Small Fry.” I want to play with the beat, control dynamics, and deliver the lyrics clearly.]
When he pressed confirm, the loading circle spun for a while. The answer came next.
-[AI analyzing······ Analysis complete!]
-[To derive your desired result, 25 coins are required.]
Rojun immediately felt that it had gotten cheaper.
‘Is it thanks to my stat enhancement? Now it’s around 20 coins without an adjustment period.’
Of course, there was likely a fixed lower limit.
There was a chance it could get one or two coins cheaper, but since 25 coins was an amount Gang Rojun could earn in a day or two, he didn’t worry much. He touched the permission to use coins just like that. At the same time.
-[Using 25 coins.]
-[Applying······ Application complete!]
The familiar tingling sensation spread through him.
The next day, Thursday the 10th, Tokyo, Japan.
Around 9 in the morning. A tall building close to Tokyo Station. On the glass door at the entrance of the office occupying two of its floors was a familiar red logo.
It was the headquarters of Netflix Japan, which had recently launched Korea’s “Geubaekpeu.”
Even now, “Geubaekpeu” was fixed at No. 1 on Netflix Japan, and its viewing hours were rapidly increasing. Because of that, Netflix Japan was busy. They had to row while the tide was in, pushing out everything from videos for the official YouTube to promotions and more.
Meanwhile, several people were gathered in one meeting room.
Around eight people sat at a square table.
Most of them looked Japanese, but what was unusual was the man seated at the head of the table as if he were the representative. At a glance, he was different. A foreigner with blue eyes and curly blond hair. He was in his late forties.
He was Tom Cavill, the executive director who served as the head of Netflix Japan.
He spoke to the team-leader-level personnel seated on either side of him. His Japanese was quite fluent.
“Have you looked into ‘Rental Lover’ in detail?”
For some reason, “Rental Lover” came out of Executive Director Tom Cavill’s mouth. Soon, the female team leader on his right nodded.
“Yes. As you know, the ‘Rental Lover’ that No. 1 of ‘Geubaekpeu’ mentioned is a Korean one-act drama, and it was a work No. 1 wrote as the writer.”
The female team leader smoothly explained the “Rental Lover” she had investigated.
“Filming has already begun, and we confirmed that it’s currently a hot topic in Korea because of this matter. ‘Rental Lover’ had already become quite an issue because Korea’s top actress, Choe Rina, took the female lead.”
“It’s a one-act drama, but if someone at Choe Rina’s level is attached, it would be noisy.”
“The rest of the cast has also been set at B-grade or higher.”
“And then No. 1 suddenly declared that he was the one who wrote ‘Rental Lover.’”
“Yes. The media and public opinion exploded just like that.”
For reference, in Japan, both “Geubaekpeu” and “Rental Lover” were still boiling hot. Of course, thanks to Koreans living in Japan, they also had a reasonable understanding of the circumstances surrounding “Rental Lover.”
“Hmm—”
Executive Director Tom Cavill exhaled with his arms crossed. His face was serious. After that as well, the meeting room overflowed with investigated matters related to “Geubaekpeu” and “Rental Lover.” Korea’s situation, Japan’s situation, fan reactions, firepower on social media and communities, and so on and so forth.
Then, when ten minutes had passed.
—Swish.
Executive Director Tom Cavill, legs crossed, reached a quiet conclusion.
“It seems we’ll have to launch ‘Rental Lover’ as well.”