Free Web Novel“Bi-joo stood at the shooting line and found her stance. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, her delicate fingers plucked the bowstring like a dancer. Eight points. Seven points. Eight points. A high score matching her steady form.
“Well done.”
I and Ji-ho gave her high-fives as she returned with a soft smile.
Then TNT’s maknae Seok Ji-hoon shot seven, seven, six in succession. A decline from last special. Not just him—the TNT trio overall scored lower than last year. Tae-hyun’s expression was especially blank.
“.......”
The TNT trio stared at my face as if I were a ghost. Slightly embarrassing. At first I thought their reactions were excessive, but on reflection it made sense. Replacing me with Ri-hyuk clarified it. Imagining Ri-hyuk suddenly becoming an archery god made their feelings clear.
At that moment Ji-ho shot seven, eight, seven and returned.
“Good job.”
“Praise me.”
“Wo. Wa. O. Su. Me.”
I praised her as if bowing to receive a blessing, and laughed at how pleased she was to accept it.
Finally Han Tae-hyun shot his arrows, and it was my turn. Under the TNT trio’s scrutinizing gaze, Ji-ho and Bi-joo’s eyes shone.
“Do well.”
“Hyung, finish with a cool shot.”
Their supportive tone, as if addressing the team ace, made me smile. It felt strange. It was the first time in my life I’d been treated this way for athletic skill. I’d always been the weak link on teams—back in elementary school I’d sat out of soccer matches and joined the cheer squad. Even as a trainee, whenever anything physical came up my chest would sink with dread. I never imagined a day when I could exercise so comfortably and confidently. I felt proud and excited. This must be how people with athletic ability feel when using their bodies. I felt energized and confident. It was the first time recording a show felt so happy and proud.
I settled my stance and drew the bowstring. A taut sensation ran through my fingertips, and my body automatically executed the needed motions. My eyes drilled into the target, breaths optimized for shooting. Softly releasing the string, the arrow struck dead center. Ten points. A thrilling thrill ran through me.
“Waaaah!”
Feeling my heart soar, I couldn’t help but laugh. That day we easily beat TNT, last year’s runner-up, and advanced to the semifinals.
Archery finals. Divided into girl group and boy group divisions, semifinals and finals proceeded.
“Waaaah!”
Whenever an idol member produced a highlight moment, enthusiastic reactions erupted.
“Wow! They completely missed the target. Hit the set instead.”
“Is that a gift set?”
“Jun Yubin’s mistake is being cutely forgiven.”
After shooting outside the target, Jun Yubin of La Vie en Rose tapped her head playfully. DNS Media CEO Im Hyun-sik massaged his neck behind her.
“Wow! Ten points. A perfect ten.”
“Second camera lens smash after NewBlack!”
Hanjo of Street Boys celebrated ten points, then Hanseok of Daydream also hit ten. Yet the biggest attention fell on one person.
“Now, NewBlack’s Woo-joo has come up.”
“The atmosphere has changed completely. Daydream looks nervous too.”
“He’s the dark horse who beat TNT, last year’s runner-up.”
On the big screen, Daydream wore a farmer’s expression as if witnessing the demon king’s arrival.
Following their gaze, someone strode forward. Once again the audience stirred at the unfamiliar visuals, and NewBlack’s Woo-joo calmly lifted his bow.
‘Wow.......’
Watching, one could only marvel at his motions. Everything flowed naturally, without hesitation. I couldn’t define the correct form, but something told me this rookie idol’s form was nearest to textbook. And fitting such form, his scores astonished.
“Ten points!”
Three arrows densely embroidered the center of the target.
“......This is insane.”
“Consecutive tens—they’ve never happened in an idol sports festival. A record that won’t be broken unless an archery-club idol appears!”
“His innate talent shows.”
A former national team archer on commentary declared talent evident. Each time Woo-joo hit a ten, the opposing team’s faces drained. In the stands, Park Gyu-ho’s face brightened.
“Ha ha ha! Director Im, you see that? That’s our kid.”
“.......”
“You don’t have anyone like that at your company, right? Ha ha!”
“.......”
As DNS Media’s Im Hyun-sik silently repeated patience, seated idols whispered behind their hands.
“He’s gone crazy.”
“What is he?”
“He just keeps hitting tens—how is that possible? Even instructors miss eights sometimes.”
They looked stunned. At first they’d thought him a handsome rookie idol, but he was an ecosystem disruptor—like a pretty boy bullfrog.
“Poor Daydream seniors.”
“I agree. If I’d faced him I’d be mentally crushed.”
“......Others are doing well too?”
Although Woo-joo overwhelmed, his teammates also scored well. NewBlack, debuting this Idollympics, had risen as the archery world’s dark horse.
‘They’ll win.’
‘How can he never miss a ten.......’
‘He’s a machine, not a human.’
Those initially aghast soon watched comfortably. Normally they might feel envy, but not this time.
‘I have to respect that level.’
Such skill required half a year of practice for a single Olympics.
Each time a ten struck, the Souffle’s chests puffed with pride. Shoulders lifted, cheeks twitched.
“It’s so good......”
“It feels strange. I was just hoping our kids stayed safe, but seeing them do well is oddly heartwarming......”
“It’s touching.”
Each time NewBlack appeared on screen, Souffle beamed as they confirmed the beauty through binoculars. Having queued since dawn, waited hours, endured security’s rude remarks—their fatigue and irritation melted away.
‘It’s really wonderful.......’
Recognition in music was great, but this new field success felt even better. I wanted to plaster posters everywhere saying “They’re our kids!”
Someone asked,
“But I’m curious......”
“What is it?”
“Why does Woo-joo look so surprised and happy each time he shoots?”
“......Right?”
He looked like a pro while shooting, then let out a joyful scream when done. Wide-eyed, cheeks pressed by hands—various guesses arose but the conversation didn’t last.
“His expressions are so beautiful.”
“That’s true.”
As a long-time fan, I could see his enormous happiness even without knowing exact reasons.
“We’re not here to just admire.”
“Right. Let’s cheer.”
They, too, waved placards and slogans with bright smiles. And each time the five golden Gung-ye on the banners rolled, nearby rival fans looked stunned.
“Waaaah!”
The three of us hugged and jumped around.
“Guys!”
“We’re”
“Gold medalists!”
It was an emotional moment. Wearing the gold medals from production, we went up to the third-floor fan seats for commemorative photos. We savored that moment for a long time.
“Great work!”
Even after morning filming ended with men’s and women’s archery, we wanted to stay in the arena. Reluctantly we left, greeted by congratulations from everyone we passed.
“Congratulations!”
“You shot so well earlier—where did you learn?”
“Woo, reveal your bow maker, Sun Woo-joo!”
Shaking off those pestering for secrets, we deepened bonds with faces we’d only known from music shows. Friends from our circle approached.
“Wow. NewBlack took gold.”
“As a Mincho-dan member, we believed our captain would succeed.”
Street Boys in white uniforms smiled warmly. We shook ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) our heads.
“No.”
“Huh?”
“We’re no longer NewBlack.”
Bi-joo, Ji-ho, and I raised our gold medals.
“We’re now NewGold!”
Next to grinning Joong-hyun, Ri-hyuk glanced at me with disdain. LB’s betrayed expression read, “What about us Mincho-dan?”
“Namoo-ssi.”
I replied,
“Sadly, Mincho-dan’s era is over.”
“......Wow.”
Then Hanjo interjected with mock sorrow.
“Woo-joo, were we only this close?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like mint and chocolate.”
“An impossible combo from the start—like pizza and pineapple.”
Street Boys protested.
“You really have no taste, captain.”
“Insulting Hawaiians—shouldn’t that be a crime?”
“What power do we have?”
“True. Beware or you’ll get hit by an arrow.”
As I swallowed laughter, LB, echoing “Such refined taste,” got roasted by Mincho followers. Namoo-ssi kept flaming on.
Our maknae cleared her throat and held up the gold medal.
“From today, NewGold will become the Almond Bonbon Dan.”
“Whoa, I want to join too.”
“Win a gold first.”
At Ji-ho’s half-baked line, both sides burst into laughter. While the no-fun family exchanged cheerful farewells, Hanjo and I walked side by side down the corridor. He asked admiringly,
“How much did you practice archery?”
“About two days.”
“......Two days?”
“Yes.”
“So was archery a hobby?”
“No. First time ever—just lucky in many ways......”
He looked at me oddly, then nodded with forced acceptance.
“Well, you dance well too. You must be good at sports.”
“No, I’m not......”
Wait a moment. Now I am?
“I’ve improved since before.”
“Oh, right—you’re in basketball later, right?”
“That’s right. We’re on the same team.”
A basketball team of ten idols included Hanjo and me as rookies. He asked curiously,
“Will you be great at basketball too?”
“I don’t know. Unlike archery, teamwork matters. We’ll see......”
Joong-hyun and I had practiced one-on-one late at night, but I wasn’t sure how it’d play out in a real game. Unlike archery, this was a team event. I wasn’t sure. But Joong-hyun had said “It’s like Slam Dunk,” so it couldn’t be bad. Right. Time for confidence. Nodding, I chatted with Hanjo about the morning gymnastics in the opening ceremony and archery finals. Soon our topic shifted to the sprints after lunch.
“By the way.”
Hanjo asked,
“Who from NewBlack is running?”
“Oh.”
I answered,
“The meanest one.”
“Ah, Ri-hyuk.”
His recognition made me swallow a laugh.
After lunch. While equipment was set, we sat in a circle around one person.
“Phew......” freewёbnoνel.com
The pale one pressed a hand to his chest, taking deep breaths.
“Phew.”
We crouched beside him and followed suit.
“Phew...”
“Phew......”
“Phew...”
“Phew......”
“Phew...”
“Don’t actually do that. You’re flaunting before a race.”
At his grumpy remark we looked at each other, then imitated him with excited faces.
“Trehrh’z me~”
“.......”
At his sulky expression we high-fived, giggling. He sighed.
“You’re no help. Other teams comfort and pat each other... Don’t touch me.”
“You asked for pats.”
“I said that—but who actually told you to?”
Perhaps pre-race nerves, he was ten times more prickly than usual.
“I’ll handle my own nerves; mind your own business. I need mind training.”
“Okay.”
We nodded and turned away. Ri-hyuk closed his eyes for thirty seconds, then snapped them open.
“Does that make you really lose interest?”
“......”
We endured his nagging like a daughter-in-law in a drama. So when staff called him, we happily saw him off.
“What’s that look?”
“It’s a smile to wish you luck.”
“That’s great.”
He clicked his tongue and said,
“I’ll go then.”
As we hesitated on words of encouragement, we waved warmly.
“If you don’t win, don’t come back.”
“Do your best, Ri-hyuk.”
“If you lose after all that ribbing, I won’t forgive you. You know that?”
“......Ugh. Don’t know don’t know.”
He covered his ears and ran off.
“Go get ‘em, Ri-hyuk!”
Watching him off like a recruit leaving for training, Bi-joo waved a handkerchief and we all held back laughter.
With my brothers huddled together, the men’s 60-meter prelim began. The format picked each heat’s winner for the final. In heat one, Street Boys’ LB sprinted to first place at incredible speed.
I marveled,
“Namoo-ssi is fast.”
“I heard he’s the fastest on that team.”
“But everyone’s really fast...?”
The level was higher than I thought. Some were track-and-field alumni, which worried me.
“......Will it be okay?”
Ji-ho, kneeling with her head on my knee, asked,
“What about Ri-hyuk? He’s so frail—can he run properly?”
“Don’t worry. Ri-hyuk hyung is fast.”
“......Really?”
“I haven’t seen him yet.”
Ji-ho mimed running emphatically.
“He’s really fast.”
“......?”
“In games there are characters weak in strength but maxed in agility—moving so fast yet weak that each hit shows 1, 1, 1. That’s Ri-hyuk hyung.”
“So he’s that slippery... I mean, fast?”
Bi-joo and Joong-hyun nodded.
“Running is the only sport Ri-hyuk’s good at.”
“He practices hard to be able to run away alone if something happens.”
But it didn’t match my image. Fast? Considering his usual clumsiness I tilted my head. Was this what Tae-hyun felt watching me?
“Oh, he’s at the starting line.”
Our kid stood in lane three. Slim as a paper doll compared to others, wearing a tracksuit zipped to his neck and a cocky look. Production moved ENG cameras along, capturing runners’ faces. Each posed, and when it was his turn, our kid shyly showed a V sign, making us roll laughing. Souffle reacted the same. Noticing this, Ri-hyuk’s ears flamed and he hid his small face in his tracksuit. But laughter faded as we joined hands to cheer him on. As runners crouched and inhaled, the whistle blew—off they went.
“Waaaah!”
Contrary to my expectations, Ri-hyuk wasn’t the frontrunner. The first out was Soul Six’s Caleb, debuting around our time. Over 185 cm tall, running like an ostrich. I thought Ri-hyuk was out of his league when suddenly a white face in black tracksuit emerged in lane three. So fast he looked like a paper doll with a motor.
“......What.”
Ri-hyuk pumped his arms wildly, rocketing forward. ......He’s really fast?
“Waaaah!”
We jumped to our feet, cheering.
“Run, Ri-hyuk!”
“Ri-hyuk! Don’t die!”
“More, more! I’ll buy you a vacuum if you finish first!”
Perhaps our fervent wishes helped. Ri-hyuk, who’d been flying, crossed the finish line first. As we cheered and jumped,
“......Huh?”
Ri-hyuk lost control at full speed, hit the cushion wall, and collapsed.
Well. What happened?
I wore a serious expression.
“......What What’s wrong with him?”
“Ah, it’s nothing.”
Unlike my wide-eyed shock, my brothers acted nonchalant. Ji-ho explained,
“He’s so low stamina he runs out quickly.”
“Ah.”
“I heard his school seniors called him that during fitness tests.”
“What was the name?”
As someone used the wall to rise trembling, Ji-ho’s voice sounded,
“Mayfly.”
I burst out laughing without meaning to.
