Free Web Novel“Still, I ended up watching episode 2 of Shini.
“You guys get all excited whenever a broadcast airs, but you won’t watch mine.”
“Because it’s scary.”
“It’s about interest in me. Think about it. Wooju hyung, if grandma says let’s go see a horror movie, you’d go.”
“Well, yeah.”
“See? I’m right!”
We couldn’t help the youngest sulking that her hyungs wouldn’t talk to her. So we all closed our eyes tightly to watch—under one condition.
“Next time, you won’t appear in anything scary, okay?”
“You’ll watch mine?”
“Yeah!”
“I won’t appear! I’ll never do anything scary again! Even if someone pays me, I won’t do it...!”
While the excited youngest laughed, we sat before the TV with somewhat sullen faces. A shadow fell across Biju’s eyes.
“I really hate scary things.”
“Me too.”
We all trembled as we watched episode 2 of Shini. It wasn’t as scary as the first time—thanks entirely to the comment section warning us in advance.
[People who shiver at scary scenes]
00:37 shiver...
01:47 shiver!!!
02:59 oh shit
04:11 shiver...
...more freeweɓnøvel.com
Whenever something popped out or a creepy scene appeared, these comments let us avoid any mishaps.
Ri Hyuk warned, “It’s almost 2:59!”
“Everyone close your eyes!”
We set the volume to one and looked away. Then, peeking with squinted eyes, we checked the screen and sighed in relief.
“......”
I met Jiho’s contemptuous gaze. Embarrassed, I muttered, “It’s fine if someone can’t handle scary stuff.”
“Right.”
“I tried to watch it in good faith, but you looked at me like that, and we’re really this terrified....”
“Look over there.”
Jiho pointed. We turned back to the TV.
“Waaaah!”
We saw something we shouldn’t have. I wiped back a tear as I stared at the screen. Having such a troublesome youngest is quite the ordeal. I kept checking the remaining runtime as we watched.
Then:
“Junhyun.”
“Yes, hyung?”
“What’s that...”
Junhyun’s face was buried in his T-shirt collar like a blissful No-Face, yet he gave a thumbs-up and said, “It’s less scary this way.”
“Really?”
While Biju and I tried the same trick, Ri Hyuk—complaining about the lack of dignity—wrapped himself in a cashmere blanket.
“Oh.”
It truly helped. Like being held in a family embrace, the T-shirt collar made me feel safe. I trembled less as the web drama continued.
And I thought, “He’s really good...”
“Really? Do I look that good?”
It was Jiho’s performance skill I couldn’t deny. On screen, Shinihan—the high school student who is also a divine being—spoke with two distinct tones: the bright, composed class president and the ancient, emotionless deity. Seeing multiple faces in one person was fascinating.
“Someone who’s lived a thousand years could be like that.”
“Exactly. I studied old pine trees and such—viewers need to feel the character’s age. Even the breathing is slower.”
Indeed, the character looked as deep and impassive as an ancient tree. If he had a scent, it would be the rustling pages of a centuries-old library book.
Our once-jovial youngest drooped after seeing himself on TV.
“But it’s awkward at times—so many mistakes...”
“No. It’s perfect to me.”
“......”
“You’re really good, our youngest.”
I tapped his arm; he smiled. After the scary part passed and we reached the back half, Biju said,
“Jiho is really good...”
“I agree.”
“It’s worth watching.”
The youngest laughed and so did we. My heart fluttered: this wasn’t just a web drama, but a glimpse of potential—an exceptional actor capable of any role.
On screen, the hero emerged after exorcism, walking against the peaceful glow of apartment lights.
“Is it over?”
Our faces brightened—then:
DUN DUN!
[NEXT EPISODE]
A scary scene ran before we could avert our eyes. Forgetting to breathe, we stared until I asked Jiho,
“Jiho.”
“Yes?”
“How many episodes total?”
“Ten.”
Our delight vanished. ‘We’re doomed...,’ we thought, facing eight more episodes.
Jiho’s web drama was thriving:
Thanks to overseas fans, it was pulling views like an idol music video. Domestic and international OTT platforms were already calling for a season 2.
Amid that came news for our album:
“Hello!”
“They’re here again.”
Choreographer Han Ahyun arrived at our practice room with her dance crew to present the finished choreography for our next title track, Empire.
Biju whispered, “Hyung, I’m so happy.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Receiving choreography from Han Ahyun...”
I laughed at his joyful cheeks. But once the choreography began, our smiles faded.
“NewBlack is known for intense performances, so this time it’s even more demanding.”
“Wow...!”
While Biju beamed, we stared blankly. Ri Hyuk raised his hand.
“Choreographer.”
“Yes?”
“Of the dancers just now, the one with the name tag ‘Ri Hyuk’ is doing my part, right?”
“Yes. The name tag actually says so...”
“I wanted to deny reality for a moment....”
We all laughed, though uneasily.
“Are we...?”
“Learning the hardest-ever choreography, yet again!” It felt like a video game—clear one stage, only to face an even fiercer stage next.
Learning moves by copying wasn’t the hard part; it was the simultaneous muscle control. Quoting the “boy next door” pretties, this choreography was designed to demolish every muscle in your body.
“I removed moves that strain the joints.”
“...!”
“Instead, I added healthy moves. After this, you won’t need separate strength training! Ha ha ha!”
Han Ahyun laughed heartily, her large earrings swinging. She explained further:
“Since the theme is conflict, I included two aspects. One, a noble, court-dance feel.”
“Oh.”
“And two, a wild, king-of-beasts feel—like a lion or tiger.”
Ri Hyuk whispered that the true king of beasts is the African elephant.
“I tried to mix it in a trendy way. Some requests from Wooju and Biju were a bit abstract.”
“They were a bit...”
“But I think it blended well.”
We’d simply asked that point moves from our previous title tracks be woven in naturally. The result exceeded our expectations.
“It’s possible!”
The concept: five princes vying for the throne, each moment weaving in our signature moves. When she asked, “How is it?” we answered,
“It’s perfect.”
This was another high-quality choreography—different from Clay’s. Despite the difficulty, we picked it up quickly.
“You all learn so fast!”
“Thank you!” freewebnσvel.cøm
“But Wooju, I’m not sure what to say...”
The choreographer paused, noticing me mimicking her expressions. Nearby dancers said,
“Your expression is so similar to Ahyun sunbaenim’s!”
“Right, right.”
“I was shocked—‘Choreographer?’ I thought for a moment.”
I apparently imitated her unconsciously. It always happens. When Clay taught Masquerade choreography, he said something similar—asking if I’d only lived in Korea, sensing a familiar vibe in a foreigner.
“Ha ha!”
“That hyung did it again!”
My friends and the dancers burst out laughing. I explained,
“This happens without me realizing.”
“You even match her expression?”
“Yes, somehow....”
Unlearning the expression takes longer than learning the moves—I have to deconstruct and reassemble them for my own body.
Anyway, we and the other juniors mastered it fast.
“You learn so quickly. Should we remove the clocks in our practice room too?”
“Truly the original Apple Team....”
We laughed.
“How did you know about the Apple Team?”
“It’s hot among dancers these days. IMOVE.”
“Oh...”
“Everyone I meet talks about it.”
Being a dance-variety show, it stirred huge industry interest—especially around Biju.
“When they showed rehearsal, he danced amazingly. Hard to look that good.”
“Uh...”
“I was surprised.”
“Thank you.”
The dancers laughed at Biju’s shy reaction and teased him more.
“Your competition stage is tonight, right? I’m so excited.”
“No, no!”
“After seeing you, we reflected on ourselves.”
“No, it wasn’t that good...!”
Their compliments only reddened Biju further. Seeing that, the dancers laughed and even Han Ahyun joined in praising,
“Biju hyung, you’re so cute right now. But am I cuter?”
“No.”
“Oh, damn, I was almost there.”
Ri Hyuk tried to perk up his ears in determination, but they didn’t respond. The dancers laughed at Biju’s reaction.
“Your reaction is so cute...!”
“No, I’m not cute. Wooju hyung is the cutest.”
I raised my hand in agreement, but no one replied. Jiho recalled a meme about “and then no one paid attention.” After three ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) seconds of silence, the chatter resumed.
“Wooju can be cute too.”
My murmur drew playful protests:
“Use third person again and I’ll block you.”
“No, hyung, please don’t.”
“You used one of my fifty yellow cards.”
Ignoring them, I looked at Biju. The once-distant youngest now chatted easily with the dancers. Then:
“Can I exchange numbers?”
“No way...! That’s amazing!”
At Biju’s shy question, the dancers smiled warmly, whispering “NewBlack contacts...!” We felt joy by proxy. When Han Ahyun’s dancers and Biju exchanged contact info and parted:
“Ha ha.”
We saw Biju glance at the phone’s new contacts with a mischievous, villain-in-training smile. He looked at me.
“Hyung.”
“Yes.”
“Just like you said, lowering their guard got me contacts...!”
“You did it...!”
We high-fived, delighted at Biju’s successful gathering of potential “subjects.”
That night, while mastering Empire’s new choreography, we gathered around a laptop to watch episode 2 of IMOVE.
“Tonight’s episode has the competition, right?”
“Yes.”
“Perfect timing. I really wanted to see it.”
We’d been too nervous live—gulping water and missing other stages—so we had to watch properly now. While the TBC channel ads played, we checked the IMOVE live chat:
-shi... why am I trembling
-this is going to be so fun +_+
-do they do monologues?
-no monologues
-so many adsㅠㅠ hurry up I’m dizzy
Everyone seemed excited for the competition. The youngest chuckled,
“Once Biju hyung dances, the comments will go wild, right?”
“Of course~”
“I’m really curious what people will say.”
Unless you’re industry insiders, Biju’s typical variety nicknames—chef, directionally challenged—dominate. After tonight’s episode, people will be stunned.
While watching the chat:
“Oh!”
Biju smiled at his phone.
“I got a text from Minjun. He’s watching with family.”
The photo showed Minjun with Biju’s sister and parents, all smiling with peace signs. Junhyun raised his phone.
“My family’s watching too.”
“Oh? Why?”
“They said the neighborhood’s having a gathering because I’m on TV.”
Not sure if older folks would enjoy it, but Junhyun’s father and villagers were drinking together. I nodded, smiling. I’d also gotten a message from Mrs. Kim Deoksun saying she was watching—so I shared that.
Biju beamed,
“I love it. Knowing everyone’s watching.”
Wherever they were, it felt like we were all watching together via texts.
Then, at last, episode 2 of IMOVE began. DUN DUN!
At the first shot of Biju’s face, we squealed and clapped. After a preview proclaiming “Tonight’s dream stage unfolds!”:
“Okay! Final practice! Final!”
Scenes of idols practicing like in a youth manga. All focused seriously. Then each team’s rehearsal:
“Biju, aren’t you going home...? Ah... this is your new home now, isn’t it...”
“Sunbaenim, can I rest? I’m out of breath... You want me to practice lying down?”
While Biju looked embarrassed, so did we. Then the on-screen captions and chat flew:
-[Breaking] Idol Mr. Kim’s character controversy... ‘Dance lying down during break’
-ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ Don’t be so cruel behind that gentle smile
-Fans’ most wanted distant-view idol: NewBlack
-Look, no clocksㅋㅋㅋㅋ
-Ha ru’s face aged overnight
Normally we’d protest, but Ran and Ha ru’s exhausted faces on screen spoke volumes.
“Ahem...”
After the Apple Team’s rehearsal clip, [Competition Day] caption appeared over an establishing shot of TBC Ilsan Studio. The heat, the dancers arriving, real rehearsals—tension rose. Then:
“Biju, wait a moment...”
“Ah, yes!”
When Biju was called to the interview location, we remembered something. We grabbed our phones to message our families to switch channels briefly. On screen, as Biju delivered a heartwarming interview about wanting to help his members, we felt uneasy.
“That... that...”
As the tablecloth swayed hinting at something beneath, the screen split—and there we were, hiding under the table, waving “Hello!” An audience-effect “Oooo~” played as flashy captions appeared:
[National idol has arrived!]
[NewBlack members who came to support Biju!]
“No one would subtitle that scene....”
Our patience snapped—and the comment section exploded simultaneously.
