Free Web NovelRoy’s hand froze like stone as he scrolled down.
Could this Park Junseo really be the Park Junseo I know?
No way.
Roy hurriedly tapped the director’s name on the Star Hero page—and the familiar face reappeared.
The moment the page refreshed, the face that came up was someone he knew all too well.
“Damn it...!”
Roy sprang to his feet, furious.
“Ha—shit, you scared me.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“Hey, don’t make eye contact. He’ll try to recruit you again.”
He couldn’t hear his friends’ whispers; his head was full of betrayal toward Junseo.
He said it’d be a reality show of ordinary daily life! How is this ordinary?
A survival program could never be ordinary—that much he, an experienced contestant, knew best.
Back before Shooting Star’s debut, just after Roy had left the company, he’d joined a survival audition program at Junseo’s urging. Since he appeared as a private, unaffiliated contestant, he barely drew attention at first. But effort never betrays: by mid-season his ranking skyrocketed, and he landed in the coveted “Jungbyeong Zone.” Then came the devilish editing push in the latter half, the narrative boost given to a trainee from a major agency on the verge of elimination, and the rank manipulation. In the end, in a competition selecting nine final members, Roy placed tenth and was heartbreakingly eliminated. Of course the outcome was rigged.
Falling out allowed him to meet the Shooting Star members, so in hindsight it turned out well—but no amount of good outcome erases the bad memories.
I suffered so much during that filming.
Roy firmly believed that his bad temper dated from that audition. Contestants ranged from five months’ experience to seven years. The producers were naïve if they thought young people would all get along—youth doesn’t guarantee purity or kindness. It was a silent battlefield, a den of venomous snakes. Jealousy, intrigue, every underhanded tactic ran rampant; surviving without scandal was never easy. And when he later learned he’d been eliminated by rank manipulation...the emptiness was indescribable. His hyungs barely restrained him when he threatened to burn down the broadcast station.
And now they want me to join another survival show?
Blinded by his initial excitement, Roy hadn’t spotted Junseo’s duplicity. He should have noticed when Junseo emphasized Awakeners’ “daily lives.” Compared to peers, Roy was quick-witted—but in front of a jaded industry veteran, he was still a naïf. Twenty-one or not, he was just a kid.
First, I need to meet the representative.
He had to meet Junseo’s boss and either burn the contract or negotiate with him. There was no chance he’d go on the show—if he’d known it was a survival program he wouldn’t have agreed. Now that his skills were locked as penalty, if he appeared on TV and word got out that he was the Awakener II-gong-yi...
[(Breaking) The real S-rank II-gong-yi is Seoul Awakened High’s Lee Roi! But his skill level is F-rank?]
[Star Hero Participant Lee Roi: S-rank but can’t use skills—idiot exists]
[Element-type S-rank Lee Roi Sparks Debate after “Early Elimination”]
Who does that?
Park Junseo. I won’t let this go...
His body shaking with rage, Roy tried to leave the classroom—but another student burst in through the back door, shouting.
“Hey, hey, awesome! The final archery national team list just dropped and Jo Mong didn’t make it!”
“What? Jo Mong was a triple gold medalist at Tokyo, wasn’t he?”
“So who did make it?”
“Park Yeon—”
“Move, dammit!” ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com
Roy pushed past everyone. Forget Jo Mong—he needed to call Junseo right away. As he reached the hallway, the bell for first period rang.
“Dammit...!”
Despite everything, Roy was a conscientious student. He stopped at the doorway, then turned back—he refused to skip class. He returned to his seat and spent the entire lesson trembling, his leg shaking the desk.
✧
Finally, break time. The bell rang and Roy bolted from the classroom toward a quiet spot. He dialed Junseo’s name.
But no answer.
Is he ghosting me on purpose?
He called three times; all he got was a robotic “Please try again later.”
“Aaargh!”
This jerk! Break time was over already—the bell for second period rang. Forced back in class, Roy spent another fifty minutes trembling before he dashed out into the hall again. After repeating this three times, it was already lunchtime. He’d called Junseo over twenty times with no reply.
He knows I can only come on weekends—he’s avoiding me.
So Roy decided to escape school.
If he won’t pick up, I’ll go find him.
That evening, as soon as classes ended, he ran to the dorm, changed into civilian clothes, and scaled the wall. With a tight black hood exposing only his eyes, the anger in his catlike glare gleamed in moonlight. Though he couldn’t use skills, as an S-rank his physical abilities were unmatched. Even in his idol days, he’d never felt such power in his legs as when he vaulted over the wall.
“Taxi!”
Roy, now with only money to his name, hailed a taxi without hesitation—something his 16-year-old self couldn’t dream of.
Back then I didn’t even have bus fare, so I walked two hours round trip every day.
What a youth. He watched neon lights flash by through the window as the taxi sped toward Sangam-dong, the broadcasting hub crowded with major networks. It was a place he’d frequented as a Shooting Star idol; returning now felt oddly nostalgic.
How do I drag that bastard out of there?
Among the towering buildings, Company M’s headquarters loomed largest. Gazing up at the glowing windows, Roy remembered a secret crawlspace only insiders knew—a parking area for broadcast trucks. He’d stumbled on it helping crew once.
Where was it...
Avoiding the CCTV, he pushed through a flowerbed. Vertical yellow cat’s eyes flashed in the dark.
“Kyaaak!”
“Holy—”
A long-tailed stray bristled and hissed, warning him to stay back.
“I’m not here to hurt you, calm down.”
“Kyaaak!”
The tiny creature looked ready to claw him to pieces.
“If you’re scared, just run away.”
Roy needed to pass this spot to reach the station. Steeling himself, he stepped forward, dismissing the cat as no match.
“Kyaaak!”
“Argh!”
He underestimated it—the moment he took a step, the cat flew at his face. Roy landed on his butt in a spectacular fall.
“Hey!”
He was S-rank, for crying out loud! Rolling on the ground before a palm-sized cat was humiliating. He dusted off his ruined clothes and rose—only to sense someone behind him. Reflexively, he spun around to see a man standing there, backlit by a streetlamp so his face was hidden.
Shit, you scared me.
Maybe a station staffer? He hadn’t expected to meet anyone here and felt a flush of panic. As he opened his mouth to explain, a smooth baritone cut in.
“What are you doing?”
“I was... retrieving the ball. I’ll leave as soon as I find it.”
“Don’t lie. I saw you torment it.”
“Excuse me?”
He blinked in confusion. Not understanding, he frowned—then the man grabbed his wrist and began to pull.
“Come out. We’ll go to the police station and talk.”
“What? Wait—what’s happening?”
“You were bullying that cat. I saw the whole thing.”
“That cat attacked me! It’s not my fault!”
Accused of animal cruelty, Roy protested—but didn’t notice himself being dragged. At last he braced his legs to resist.
“Seriously, I didn’t do it!”
“Even if you claim innocence, no one will believe you.”
Roy suddenly realized his appearance.
“No, there’s a perfectly good reason—”
“This place is unknown to almost everyone except me.”
“What? Why would you think that? I’m here on business for the station, not the cat.”
Roy insisted on his innocence—then made a critical slip.
“There’s a crawlspace into the station over here. I was heading there.”
“A crawlspace?”
“Yes! A crawlspace!”
The man stared and tightened his grip.
“If that’s true, we definitely need to go to the police—you’d be trespassing the station.”
“Jesus, I’m losing it.”
Roy yanked his arm free. He had to escape. No point explaining—Junseo would still be here later. Roy decided and lunged at the man.
“Hiyah!”
“Ugh!”
Thunk—
Something fell from Roy’s hood pocket as they collided, but he didn’t notice. He vaulted over the man, a smirk curling on his lips.
“Pfft.”
He dashed off—but then froze at an unexpected word.
“License?”
Chills ran through him. He turned, and under the streetlamp saw a small card in the man’s hand—the Awakener license gleaming gold.
“Lee Roi.”
“Wh-why—”
“...S-rank?”
