Ban Yohan, Oh Hyeonjin, Ji Yeonwu, Park Suhyeon, and Ma Taewon.
Five contestants remained.
Jena seemed to have anticipated such a situation, as she skillfully proceeded with the event.
“All ranks have been announced, yet there are still five trainees who haven’t been assigned any rank. What could this mean?”
The trainees, having never experienced such a situation in previous seasons, looked at Jena with wide eyes.
“Now, the remaining trainees, please open your cards and reveal your ranks!”
Following the staff’s cue, the remaining trainees spread their cards wide open.
[?]
“What?”
“A question mark?”
Instead of ranks from A to F, the remaining trainees’ cards were marked with question marks.
They blinked, clueless about what it meant.
After smiling ambiguously for a while, Jena said,
“Among them, four trainees will be chosen as centers for ranks A, B, C, and D, based on the judgment of our mentor panel.”
There were five people left. Four centers.
That left one person…
“And the other one is considered the most lacking trainee out of the hundred, deserving of rank F.”
The shocking announcement sparked murmurs of cruelty among the trainees.
I thought the same.
Whoever ended up with the F-rank must have made an enemy of the PD.
Park Suhyeon, who had already debuted once in a group called “Whistler,” and Ma Taewon, who had appeared in another audition survival show, turned particularly pale.
Wondering if this had always been the case, I asked the person next to me.
“Did they decide the centers like this last season too?”
“No. If I remember correctly, they had a separate competition for A rank to choose the center.”
Maybe the program was trying to stir up interest since it was already the third season?
Jena quickly regained her professional demeanor after showing a moment of sympathy and asked Oh Hyeonjin,
“Do you think you can be the center, Hyeonjin?”
“I always thought I wanted to get A rank during practice. As for being the center… there are many people in A rank who are better than me, so I’m not sure, but among the trainees here now, I think I may be the best.”
Wow, talk about confidence.
Well, considering what was left were trainees who did not stand out to the mentors, those who have only trained for two months, and those who looked like they bombed their performance, it made sense to be that confident.
“Let’s also hear Yohan’s thoughts.”
“I believe that the process is as important as the result, so above anything else, I want to thank Raon for helping me practice day and night during our stay.”
Following the adage, “There’s no age limit to dreaming,” here came another, “The process is as important as the result.”
Such humility and touching remarks could come straight out of a self-help book.
But!
[Ban Yohan disapproves of your persistence.
Favorability +0
Current Favorability +19]
The system’s revelation about his true feelings wasn’t a lie.
To think he would thank me with a smile while internally disliking it.
Look at him avoiding trouble by bringing up my name.
That despicable guy.
I resolved to grab him by the collar—no, by the hand—and head to the practice room together.
Then, the remaining three finished their interviews.
My legs were starting to hurt.
“If you look closely at the card you received, you’ll see that you can peel off a sticker on the bottom right corner.”
Prompted by Jena’s words, the trainees examined their cards.
“Peel it off the moment I finish saying to reveal it. All at once, nicely.”
The production team gave the order.
Jena took a deep breath and forcefully announced,
“Now, we will reveal the centers for each rank and the trainee who ranked lowest in the signal song evaluation.”
With the sound of adhesive peeling, the trainees’ ranks were revealed.
Some had their eyes tightly shut, unable to check the content even after peeling it off themselves.
To cut to the chase, the D-rank center was Ma Taewon, the C-rank center was Ji Yeonwu, the B-rank was Ban Yohan, Oh Hyeonjin was the A-rank center, and the F-rank was Park Suhyeon.
“Trainee Park Suhyeon, we had high expectations since you already debuted once, but the lack of practice was too apparent in the evaluation video. This program is a second chance, a chance that won’t come again, so we thought you should have worked harder.”
Park Suhyeon, looking disappointed, apologized and said he would work harder, eventually breaking into tears.
The PD must be thrilled.
While interviewing Ban Yohan, a camera blatantly focused on me.
It seemed they were aiming for a negative edit, expecting my expression to sour at the success of Yohan, whom I helped.
Well.
He was an NPC, and I, a player.
I wouldn’t get jealous of game characters, you know.
Lastly, I listened as the mentors spoke one by one to the trainees lined up from A to D grades.
The centers for each rank stood at the very front.
The F-ranks stood by themselves.
Did the PD enjoy being hated? Was he planning to achieve immortality with the curses from running this program?
As these thoughts crossed my mind, Mook Hyeseong, who had been the most critical of his trainees’ performace after Ju An, began to speak,
“Initially, our trainee group was the most lacking in basics. The situation was serious. However, after diligent practice, most have achieved the minimum skills required to perform on stage, and as a mentor, I am very proud of this fact. This is just the beginning, so don’t be satisfied here; I hope you continue to improve, and I will do my best to support you.”
It was the first time I saw him speak so positively at length.
My fellow trainees looked at Mook Hyeseong with moved expressions.
Mook Hyeseong seemed burdened by it as he deliberately avoided our gazes.
“With that, we conclude the evaluation of the signal songs. Once again, great work to all the trainees.”
As Jena finished her closing remarks, the system window popped up.
[Sudden Quest Occurrence! “Listen to the Group leader, and Your Rank Will Go Up Even While Sleeping” Failed!]
[Trainees Passed 31/32]
Seeing this made me feel incredibly regretful.
Seriously, such a waste.
Damn you, Lee Yujin.
[Upon failure: Wisdom –10]
Farewell, my precious 10 points of Wisdom.
[However, as a reward for failure, you will also receive +20 Wisdom, +10 Favorability from half the trainees and mentors, and a modest amount of experience.]
Huh?
[Level Up!]
[You have stat points to allocate.]
Uh?
[Tip! There’s a reason people say you learn more from failure.]
It was then I fully grasped the situation.
The first thought that came to mind was that I had been toyed with by the system.
Rewards for success that weren’t quite special, uncertain penalties marked with question marks, and a difficulty level that was wickedly high.
It was a quest that, by all logic, was set up for failure.
In other words, a quest so bizarre, it was odd to even accept it.
Initially, when I read the unexpected quest description, I was slightly concerned that instead of mentioning a “Penalty upon failure” like in main quests, it simply stated “in case of failure.”
I thought it wasn’t a significant difference and moved on.
Had I rejected the quest from the start, I would have missed out on these rewards without even knowing they existed.
Feeling half annoyed that the system seemed to be testing me like a toy and half indifferent because the rewards were good, I couldn’t care less about my mood.
Actually, the latter feeling was stronger.
Ahaha, spineless bastard.
* * *
“Wow, it’s already time to leave.”
“Yohan, congratulations on the B grade center.”
“Thanks. So, when are you buying us meat, Junwu?”
Kim Junwu had a ‘I shouldn’t have said that’ look on his face as he replied,
“…You didn’t forget?”
“I haven’t forgotten anything since I was eight.”
“You could at least make a believable lie.”
“Coming from you, that sounds quite believable.”
“Agreed.”
“Oh, look.”
“Catch. That’s a Korean.”
We chatted and dragged our suitcases down to the first floor.
As all the trainees gathered, a staff member outlined the schedule moving forward.
Over the next three days, we were to shoot our individual PR videos, followed by a rehearsal for the “Heart Attack” performance on a music show four days later, then the music show’s pre-recording the next day, and a mini fan meeting in Sangam wearing group outfits the day after that.
I asked the staff about things I was curious about as we got our phones back, which had been taken away on the first day.
“Um… My phone broke right before filming, so I lost all my contacts and the notices I received.”
“Oh, really? Just a moment. You’re Trainee On Raon, right? Is your number still the same?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll resend everything to you by today.”
“Thank you.”
I also inquired about my schedule for filming the PR video.
“Checking now, it seems you and a few other trainees already filmed it a month ago.”
An unexpected answer came back.
Although I was relieved to have less work, I was terrified of what “On Raon” might have done in my PR video, especially since I boldly wrote “100th” as my expected rank.
But right now, there was something more urgent.
“Um, would it be… impossible for me to stay here in the dormitory until the next filming? Haha, of course, it’s not possible, but I don’t feel like leaving as if I’ve grown attached.”
The staff looked at me strangely.
He remarked how I seemed to really like this place but told me that I had wait for the second round of dormitory living before walking away.
But that wasn’t it!
I had nowhere to stay tonight.
Until just a week ago, I was a gaming addict, with 95% of my daily activities involving my fingers and wrists.
How did it come to this?
“I bet no one would believe me, but this is inside a game.”
…is what I wanted to shout.
But murmuring very quietly was the best I can do.
I wondered if the barber who couldn’t say the king’s ears were like those of a donkey felt just like this.[1]
The trainees left one after another in the cars that came to pick them up.
“Raon, see you at the rehearsal.”
“Yeah. Take care.”
After a while, I suddenly realized I was the only one left as the production team had all withdrawn.
A cleaning person came across me and asked,
“Aren’t you leaving, young man?”
“Ah, I should. It’s just too cold to go out.”
“Make sure you don’t catch a cold on your way.”
I mechanically turned on the map app and started walking toward the nearest bus stop.
“…”
This was bad.
Where was I going to sleep tonight?
[1] Here’s a summary of the story: https://returntobusan.com/2022/08/17/korean-idiom-the-kings-ear-the-donkeys-ear/
