Trapped in the Idol Universe

So, to sum it up, it means the Awakening drug, the Salvation Church, and Gwak Hyeol’s Awakening are all connected.

How Gwak Hyeol is still alive is a mystery, but it’s highly likely he was the first victim of the Awakening drug.

“An experimental subject or beta-tester used during the development stage of the Awakening drug.”

Since he was from an orphanage with no family and claimed to have made his own way in life, it’s very possible the cult knew this and approached him. Besides, didn’t he run a small neighborhood pharmacy all by himself? He probably had no employees.

“He was an orphan who no one would question if he suddenly died.”

I’d already sensed it before, but those bastards pick their targets with uncanny precision. Of course, approaching me this time was a huge mistake. Hojin and Gwak Hyeol may have gone along quietly, but I was different.

“I’ll find irrefutable evidence and bury them with it.”

My goal was to nip the first villain in the bud before he could run rampant. And if possible, to discover an antidote that could cure Gwak Hyeol’s abnormal condition. To do that, I needed to finish filming and get back as soon as possible. Gwak Hyeol might not have much time left.

“Firecracker, is your friend gone?”

“Yeah. His condition worsened again, so Guild Master Earth took him away.”

The contestants were gathered on set again before the third evaluation. Everyone stood next to their partner, but there was an empty spot beside me. Gwak Hyeol, who’d seemed a bit better, began coughing up blood again ten minutes before filming resumed. He insisted he was fine and was eager to film, but Eunseong, who saw right through his condition, objected.

“This is not filming—he needs to be hospitalized immediately.”

Thus Gwak Hyeol was forcibly withdrawn.

“He said he went to the Awakeners’ hospital, so he should be okay.”

Even if I went after him now, there was no way to remove his status ailment. I, too, would need Gwak Hyeol’s help to infiltrate the Salvation Church, and I still had goals here. Since Eunseong returned to set, I had to believe Gwak Hyeol’s condition wasn’t too dire.

“Then what happens to that last spot?”

With one person suddenly withdrawn, production had to hold an emergency meeting. They needed to change the evaluation format because the number of participants had changed. Shortly after, filming resumed. Hangyeol stood center stage, holding a microphone.

“Heroes who survived the first survival—99 of you—congratulations.”

Hangyeol said he’d prepared a small segment before starting the second survival.

“Random Play Dance~!”

At the sudden announcement, the set buzzed.

“Random Play Dance?”

“Suddenly we have to dance?”

The contestants reacted in confusion. So did I.

‘They’re just not filling Gwak Hyeol’s spot and going straight on? But why a dance?’

I understood that even a survival program couldn’t be serious all the time—variation was important. But this was absurd. A skill demonstration or real combat would’ve made more sense. Unable to comprehend the decision, I glanced toward Junseo. His barely concealed grin said he found it hilarious.

‘He planned this on purpose.’

Junseo knew none of these contestants could dance, so he devised this segment to capture their floundering for laughs. But who was I? A former top-tier idol. A perfect hexagon! For a K-pop veteran, this was nothing.

“You must be wondering why we’re doing this. The reason will be revealed shortly.”

Hangyeol continued explaining the game.

“Soon, music will play. Step forward and perform choreography that matches the song.”

But if you don’t dance, you’re eliminated. If you dance moves unrelated to the song, you’re eliminated. If you don’t step forward, you’re eliminated.

“However, we’re not professionals, so we’ll pass you as long as it feels close enough. Don’t be too nervous.”

Feeling the tension ease, Hangyeol looked toward production.

“Is the music ready?”

A staff member drew a circle overhead.

“Yes. It’s ready. Shall we begin?”

With a mischievous smile at the contestants, Hangyeol signaled to start. Why did he look so obnoxious? I simply found him irritating—probably because I struggled the most to get to know him. I glared at Hangyeol and stretched my neck side to side.

‘They wouldn’t do this for no reason. There must be a benefit for that last spot.’

Survival shows always have a reason for making contestants dance. Whatever it is, I needed to rank high. As I began to warm up, Yeonwoo beside me widened his eyes.

“You’re going out there?”

“Yeah. Gotta get first place.”

“Are you even good at this? I’m too embarrassed to dance.”

“Then cheer me on.”

I grinned confidently. I could never be beaten.

✧

The first track began. After a three-second cue beep, a song from an idol group filled the set.

Pull the trigger

Ddu-du-du Hit the target

I had worried they might play a song I didn’t know, but they played one I knew all too well: BoomBoom’s “Target.” It was the debut track of last year’s rookie boy group from a major label. From the beat alone you could smell the money. The choreography, crafted by a top overseas choreographer, was so demanding that even BoomBoom’s members ranked it as their hardest dance. And yet they started with this.

‘They’ll knock out those who can’t dance right away.’

It was notorious, but I was about to show them what “notorious” really meant.

“Contestant Roi F, wow.”

As Hangyeol called out my name, I charged forward without hesitation and took center stage. “Target” is known for its fast steps, expansive arm movements, and constantly shifting formations. Even BoomBoom themselves would name this choreography as their toughest. Starting with a song like this—

“Are there really no others coming forward?”

Hangyeol stuttered in surprise. The other contestants who’d hoped to show off stood frozen, leaving Hangyeol to urge them on. One by one, they stepped up and flailed in pitiable fashion. Half were eliminated, leaving just over fifty survivors.

“Next, the second song—Music~ Cue!”

At the cue, a second track began. I walked center stage again before even hearing the title, confident I could master anything.

Soda you’re so sweet

Can you hear my heart? mm mm

This was 21st Century Girls’ “Soda,” a bubbly first-love anthem that became the first girl-group album to top the annual charts—a mega-hit that launched the third-generation girl-group era. Its choreography wasn’t hard, just embarrassingly cutesy for a guy. But I didn’t care.

“Ha! Contestant Roi F is amazing!”

I shook my hips with supple grace, hitting every point in the choreography, making eye contact with the camera and smiling. As latecomers stumbled through awkward moves, my performance looked crisp and sophisticated, like a fish in water.

“Who the heck is he?”

“He’s an ex-trainee, right?”

“I thought they said he wasn’t?”

“The PD found him. Didn’t you know?”

Even Junseo, mouth agape, couldn’t look away. The staff buzzed louder and louder.

“More than half have been eliminated again. Now for the third song.”

About twenty remained. I still felt relaxed. The two previous performances had shattered their confidence long ago.

“Music~ Cue!”

At the cue, the third track played. It wasn’t a K-pop song but a Latin pop track by a female soloist that sparked the global “Ohnana” craze last winter—always used for sexy dance routines. With its slow tempo and seductive vocals, there was no strict choreography. Gye Bokji B dashed out to wave his body in a sexy dance, inspiring a rash of imitators whose buff frames looked grotesque. I chuckled softly at the spectacle, then strode out last. As if parting the Red Sea, the path to center cleared for me. Standing there by chance, I couldn’t help but grin. The moment I, an F-rank, was ignored and treated like invisible, now everyone avoided my gaze.

‘Idols are in my blood after all.’

In front of the camera, I danced just the right amount—popping my hips slightly and lowering my eyes. The third routine began. The perfect victory of the F-rank leader.