Free Web Novel“Sion, it feels like it’s been a long time since we last talked!”
“It does. We barely saw each other after A class.”
Maybe because there were only fifty contestants left now, a lot of the members of the Girlish Pop team were faces I recognized.
Starting with Kurosawa Yuri, who was talking to me like she was genuinely happy to see me, there were also contestants I’d practiced with briefly back when we were in A class.
“I wanted to be on a team with Sion at least once too.”
“Right. What’s your secret, Lee Sion, goddess of victory?”
“Come to think of it, Lee Sion really wins every single time, huh? You’ll carry us this time too, right?”
Up until the previous missions, whenever we gathered, we’d usually start by introducing ourselves, then move on to picking a leader or assigning parts. But this time, since they hadn’t even told us which song we’d be performing yet, the Girlish Pop team members were just freely chatting together. freeweɓnøvel.com
– Please wait in the practice rooms assigned to each concept.
We’d only been told to move to the practice rooms, with no further instructions on what to do after that, so the contestants were just talking and making noise among themselves.
“I watched your Lucid Dive stage with Suyeon so many times during this break, Sion!”
“You did?”
“Yeah! The concept was so cool! Did you decide on the prince concept, Sion?”
“That was something Shinyu, who was on our team at the time, decided.”
“Shinyu? I haven’t talked to Shinyu yet!”
It seemed Kurosawa Yuri had a lot she was curious about when it came to me and Suyeon, because she kept asking this and that.
“Your Korean is really good.”
“I trained as a trainee in Korea for three years!”
I admired Yuri’s answer, hearing that she’d studied Korean even before coming to Korea and kept studying after she arrived.
‘If you count my past life too, haven’t I been studying English for twenty years?’
I felt a slight wave of self-loathing, but it wasn’t important, so I decided to let it go.
Besides that—
“Lee Sion, be honest! You were hiding your skills, weren’t you?”
“Are you trying to slander me?”
“No, how does your skill grow that fast?”
“That’s probably because I’m a genius.”
“Lee Sion, you’re really annoying, you know? Hurry up and spill the secret.”
From one teammate playfully tickling my side,
to the other team members striking up conversations with me here and there as well, the atmosphere in the practice room grew lively with noise.
In my previous team, there’d always been nothing but villains like Kim Nayeon, or Ryu Ayeon, or Lee Gahyeon who constantly picked on me.
Meeting teammates who cheered and welcomed me instead made me feel inexplicably good.
“I’m feeling it!”
Maybe that was why. I headed straight to the center of the practice room, started loosening up my body a bit, and drew everyone’s attention.
And then—
“Oh! That’s insane, Lee Sion!”
When I showed them isolation—now officially my secret technique No. 298, something even Ryu Ayeon had finally been forced to acknowledge—the watching team members responded with explosive reactions.
“Whoa... with isolation at that level, aren’t you basically a pro dancer?”
“I got chills watching that.”
“But why are you only moving your neck and not other body parts?”
“That’s because Sion unni only practiced that part.”
Unlike those traitors who barely reacted anymore even when they saw my isolation lately, these fiery reactions made spinning my neck actually fun.
“Sion! I’m moved!”
“Anyone who recognizes the true value of this dance is my domodachi, Yuri.”
“Then I’ll show you a special skill too!”
“You too?”
“Yeah!”
And just then, Kurosawa Yuri—who’d been watching my isolation with particularly impressed eyes—stepped out toward the center of the practice room, saying she’d show her own special skill.
As I naturally slipped back to sit among the other trainees like we were baton-touching,
“There are six bullets lodged in my body from Japanese bastards!”
With a grim expression, Yuri scratched her neck and began delivering a famous line from last year’s blockbuster movie in a phlegmy, gravelly voice.
“What the hell?!”
“Wait—hold on!”
“Why is that coming out of your mouth?!”
Shock and terror.
It reminded me of a meme that used to circulate on old communities—
– Dokdo is Korean territory! Long live the Republic of Korea!
A U.S. serviceman stationed in Korea, wearing a Taegeukgi around his head, giving a passionate speech.
That was exactly what the situation felt like right now.
“There are two holes!”
The most bewildering part was that while the rest of us were plunged into total confusion, all collectively stunned,
Yuri, the one doing the impersonation, maintained a deadly serious expression and carried her special skill through to the end.
“She even sounds similar...!”
“How can a Japanese person imitate that that well?!”
I wasn’t the only one amazed.
When Kurosawa Yuri—no, Kurosawa Yeom Seokjin—finished the performance, the teammates watching couldn’t help but applaud at the sheer quality.
“Go! Suyeon-mon!!”
“...What?!”
“The mood’s this heated, we can’t just let it slide! Show us something!”
“Me?”
“Then who else would?”
I shoved the back of a dazed-looking Suyeon toward the center of the room.
And this time, Yuri came and sat next to me as Suyeon baton-touched her way in.
“So? Was it okay?”
“Good! Where did you even practice something like that?”
“I was watching movies to study Korean, and it looked fun so I copied it. The trainees at my company loved it!”
“They’ve got a good eye.”
A Japanese person doing that kind of pro-Korea impersonation was more than enough to qualify as a cheat key.
Even if I’d done the same impersonation myself, it would’ve been hard to create the same impact Yuri just had.
That was simply the difference of something you’re born with.
‘Being funny because of nationality... isn’t that cheating?’
It looked like I’d need to work pretty hard to clear Yuri as a potential rival in personal talents during this third mission.
“I—I can imitate a fish!”
“A fish?”
“You can do voice imitation for a fish?”
“What is that even supposed to be?”
While I was still thinking about the need for a new special skill, Suyeon—who’d gone out to show hers—bowed her head deeply in embarrassment and began.
‘A fish imitation?’
Even though I’d shared a dorm with Suyeon and practiced together all this time, she’d never shown anything like a special skill before, so my anticipation spiked.
And then—
Flap!
“S... Suyeon!”
The moment Suyeon began her fish imitation, I couldn’t help but cry out her name in desperation.
As soon as her special skill started, Suyeon lay face-down flat on the practice room floor.
Then, still in that position, she began undulating from head to toe and flapping.
It looked exactly like a fish that’d been yanked up by a fishing rod, fallen onto dry land, and was flopping around.
“Pff...!”
“Kh—seriously, why are you doing this to us?!”
“Kim Suyeon! What are you even supposed to do after this?!”
At first, all the contestants tried to stifle their laughter at Suyeon’s fish imitation, but in the end they gave up completely, and the practice room erupted with laughter loud enough to wash away everything.
“I’m sorry, team leader! I swore I’d never do that again, but...”
Kim Fish, having completed her mission, returned to her spot, and next up came a contestant named Yoon Jisu.
Yoon Jisu hesitated briefly, as if unsure what to do, then squeezed her eyes shut like she’d made up her mind and shouted,
“Pumpkin sweet potato! Pump-kin sweet po-ta-to! Pumpkin sweet potato!”
It was the start of a festival.
***
“You can move now.”
“Thank you.”
Following a staff member’s guidance, Park Taesu {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} walked through the lodging area, glancing around.
‘It looked bleak even on broadcast, but it’s even worse in person.’
The place he was in now was none other than the filming site of Idol Ground 100.
[Honestly doesn’t this look like a military boot camp?]
[It is one. Someone posted proof on the community saying they did their service there]
[Damn, no wonder watching it felt weird]
Among viewers, the Idol Ground 100 filming set was already being called a boot camp.
And since Park Taesu also knew this fact, he’d been feeling its bleakness as he looked around.
‘Well, the atmosphere isn’t what matters.’
Aside from the gloomy aura that inevitably oozed out because it used to be a military training facility, the place was surprisingly well equipped for trainees, which impressed Park Taesu.
There was enough space in the buildings and grounds that the dorms and cafeteria were separated, a large auditorium spacious enough to gather all contestants and staff,
and beyond that, plenty of practice rooms that could be divided by team, as well as workspaces for arranging and recording. Functionally, it was perfect.
“It’s truly an honor to have the CEO personally participate in the program.”
“Not at all. I was interested myself.”
“The contestants who picked your song are really lucky.”
At the staff member’s words, Park Taesu shook his head inwardly.
‘Lucky? I don’t think so.’
He knew it sounded strange to say it himself, but he was often praised by company staff and the public alike as being an upright person.
Whenever he heard that, he felt embarrassed, but not exactly displeased either.
What people didn’t know, however, was that this praise only applied to his usual self.
– Again!
From the moment he took charge of producing, he turned into a devil.
With his perfectionist directing over every single lyric and melody, the singers under him had to re-record dozens, or even hundreds, of times.
Because of that, there were even artists under his company who were afraid of receiving a song from Park Taesu, as if it were some kind of punishment.
And Park Taesu had no intention of lowering that standard just because these were trainees.
If anything, he planned to raise the intensity, with no thought of compromise, believing that the trainee stage was precisely when bad habits needed to be harshly corrected and skills built.
‘The new main PD wasn’t someone to take lightly either.’
Park Taesu recalled being surprised by the response he’d received when he’d shared these thoughts with the new main PD after deciding to join the program.
– That sounds good. We wouldn’t have brought in CEO Park Taesu otherwise.
The image of the new main PD eagerly asking him to direct harshly, saying they’d fully support him with anything he needed, was deeply impressive.
To be honest, Park Taesu had been worried that the program might falter after former main PD Kim Miyoung stepped down, given her influence.
But after meeting the new PD, he’d long since shed those worries.
Now, all that remained was anticipation.
“This is the practice room where the trainees who chose the girlish concept are gathered.”
“Thank you for guiding me.”
Lost in those memories of meetings with the former PD, Park Taesu realized he’d arrived at his destination.
‘They’re probably going to be shocked.’
He’d thought it would be fun when he heard that the production team had deliberately revealed only the concepts, hiding details like song titles and composers from the contestants.
After confirming his surprise participation as a producer for the third mission of Idol Ground 100, the song he’d submitted for the mission was none other than girlish pop.
Though Park Taesu had created songs across many genres before, he’d almost never made girlish pop, so there were hardly any contestants who’d suspect the girlish pop composer was him.
Imagining the looks on the contestants’ faces when he suddenly appeared in front of them in this situation already felt amusing.
Especially when he’d heard from production that Lee Sion—whom he’d been watching with interest—had chosen girlish pop, just how happy he’d been.
It was a slight shame that Ryu Ayeon, who was under his company, had chosen a different concept, but still, being able to personally teach Lee Sion and see whether his instincts were right was something to be grateful for.
Of course, having interest didn’t mean he planned to jump straight into aggressive training from the start.
‘They won’t know which producer is coming or what song they’ll get yet, so they’ll be tense. I should loosen the mood a little at first.’
As a company CEO who had personally trained many trainees over the years, Park Taesu knew well what state of mind the contestants would be in while waiting in the practice room, so he planned to relax them first.
Opening the practice room door with excitement, what came into Park Taesu’s view was—
“Pumpkin sweet potato! Pump-kin sweet po-ta-to! Pumpkin sweet potato!”
a trainee shouting pumpkin sweet potato, and—
“It’s a festival!”
Lee Sion and the other contestants, surrounding that trainee, cheering and dancing wildly.
***
– Lean fully into survival.
Park Hyungsoo still wasn’t sure whether his judgment had been right.
The final advice Kim Miyoung had given him before leaving the program, to Hyungsoo, who was taking over after her—
that if he was worried about the program’s direction, he should stop worrying and bring out the ruthless charm of pure survival—had made Park Hyungsoo wonder if she was secretly trying to kill him.
After all, one of Idol Ground 100’s biggest appeals was that survival and variety were properly mixed, creating tension while still being fun to watch.
If they suddenly emphasized survival now, viewers might feel fatigue or betrayal.
But—
– Variety will come out anyway.
Hyungsoo had ultimately been forced to accept Miyoung’s words that variety would be plentiful even without planning it separately.
If Kim Miyoung, Sion’s aunt, was the demon of ratings, then Lee Sion was the demon of variety. Surely she’d secure variety screentime no matter what.
That thought had crossed Park Hyungsoo’s mind as well.
“PD, all the producers have finished moving to their assigned practice rooms.”
“Yeah, I’m checking now.”
And at this very moment, Park Hyungsoo was watching in real time as that hunch proved correct.
– We need to be able to monitor the contestants’ practice rooms in real time.
After the Bang! Bang! Love! team attempted a mass escape, Kim Miyoung had felt the need for real-time monitoring and pulled budget approval from above to set up systems to watch the teams’ practice rooms live.
Thanks to that, Park Hyungsoo was now watching the situation in the girlish concept practice room—the one Lee Sion belonged to—and a broad smile spread across his face.
‘From now on, it’s not Lee Sion. It’s God Sion.’
While other practice rooms were still tense, with team members awkwardly sitting around talking and trying to maintain composure—
– There are two holes!
—the personal talent Sion had started had already spread through the other contestants, turning the girlish pop practice room into an all-out talent show.
Once he realized that just this alone would be enough variety footage for broadcast, Hyungsoo suddenly felt like sending an expensive holiday gift set to Kim Miyoung’s house this Lunar New Year.
There was a weapon called the Emperor’s Executioner Sword in an RPG game he’d once played.
It was absurdly expensive both in in-game currency and real money, and at one point, just carrying it was enough to make someone the supreme ruler of a server.
‘God Sion is the executioner sword.’
To a PD, Lee Sion was beyond an executioner sword.
Having drastically altered the originally planned third mission to strongly emphasize survival, Hyungsoo had secretly been nervous.
But now, he had no worries at all.
‘Everyone said it was crazy, but Senior Miyoung was right.’
Originally, there had been ten producers and ten songs prepared for the concept stages.
With five contestants assigned to each concept so all fifty could perform, that had been the plan.
– Cut it in half.
Kim Miyoung had advised Hyungsoo to halve the number of concepts, boost song quality, and instill a sense of urgency in the contestants.
At the time, he’d thought it might be too cruel, but now he believed there hadn’t been a better way to create tension.
Thanks to that, this mission would be nothing short of agonizing for the contestants, but regardless of that, it was perfect for injecting tension into Idol Ground 100 as it barreled toward its conclusion.
“Hyuksu, let’s release that escape video from last time on YouTube.”
“What? Oh! Right. It’d be awkward to air it on broadcast, and it would be a waste to scrap it—YouTube is perfect.”
With the groundwork perfectly prepared, it was time for Hyungsoo to get ready to do what he needed to do as main PD.
Hyungsoo instructed Lee Hyuksu, the junior in charge of YouTube, to release the Bang! Bang! Love! team’s great escape incident.
The escape footage, aside from its entertainment value, featured certain contestants far too heavily and ran over twenty minutes, making it hard to fit into the main broadcast.
If they released it on YouTube before episode 5 aired, interest in the main broadcast would rise, and viewers would find it much easier to understand how the contestants had grown closer—making it the optimal solution.
‘I should meet the department head and negotiate with the convenience store side.’
Of course, there was no intention of releasing it for free.
In principle, the convenience store brand logos and food items should be blurred, but if they negotiated well in exchange for exposure, it might even turn into advertising.
They could show the brand logos without blur, or sell sets of the convenience store food the contestants ate under the Idol Ground 100 name. There were countless ways to monetize it.
‘This could make some money.’
Park Hyungsoo.
At this point, Kim Miyoung MK 2 had already taken root in his mind.
