Genius Idol’s Strategy to Conquer the Entertainment Industry

The trainees, who looked just as tired as their equally exhausted mentors, began their practice.

“Are you tired? Just pull through this, and today’s filming will be over. So, hang in there a bit more.”

While some mentors encouraged the trainees with warmth and affection, others did not hold back their criticisms.

“We saw earlier that you crumble easily when things get tough. With that level, you’ll never make it to grade A. Work harder!”

Our mentor, Mook Hyeseong, was undoubtedly the latter type.

He maintained a polite attitude towards the seemingly worthless trainees who looked like black trash bags fluttering aimlessly on the streets yet struck our bones with his refined words.

“I saw what you guys did. My scores for you would be ten out of ten for passion and, rounding up, zero for skill. A total of ten points. Are you satisfied?”

The foreign trainees were relieved by the gentle tone of his voice but widened their eyes in confusion after hearing Mook Hyeseong’s final words.

They glanced at the frozen Korean trainees.

Behind me was Nagase Ritsu. He tapped me and gestured for me to explain.

Sometimes, it was good not to know everything, so I responded with a pure white smile.

However, Mook Hyeseong caught my gaze, cracked a faint, pixel-wide smile, and opened his mouth.

“You guys are working hard, but it’s just not good enough.”

“You can’t be an idol in Korea with that level of skill.”

“What did you think when you saw the other group’s performance? It’s not enough just to enjoy it amongst yourselves.”

How should we deal with this strangely kind and weird teacher who spoke in English, Japanese, and Chinese for those who didn’t understand?

Mook Hyeseong, who appeared to be in his early to mid-30s, was, fortunately or unfortunately, a highly competent mentor.

I didn’t know where he came from or what he had been doing, but he spoke four languages fluently, danced incredibly well, and even had a great singing voice.

What kind of overpowered character was this?

In fact, all the mentors here were great at singing, dancing, and even had good-looking faces, making them close to all-rounders.

There were many people in the world who were well-balanced and good at everything.

Munchkin idol Mook Hyeseong first classified us 30 trainees according to our skill level and began teaching those who were particularly bad among the less-skilled ones.

He was able to classify us so accurately after watching us 30 dance just once; it was as if he had radar in his eyes.

“How many years has it been since Mentor Mook debuted?”

I quietly asked Ban Yohan, who was catching his breath beside me, since I had a feeling that Mook Hyeseong was an idol from the first generation.

Yohan returned a light jab, saying,

“You don’t know? He’s a 20-year veteran.”

“Wow…”

Oh, my trick to avoid the profanity filter worked.[1]

There’s no foolproof system under the sky.

…However, I felt a bit guilty for resorting to such methods just to use profanity.

Was he really a 20-year veteran with that face?

One of those three possibilities: he took great care of himself, debuted at a very young age, or was a vampire.

“What’s new? Chronicle is a living legend now.”

“I know, I know, the King God General Chronicle.”

While pretending to be familiar with it, Yohan suddenly widened his eyes and curled his lips, laughing awkwardly.

“…Is Mentor Mook behind me?”

“Yes.”

Why would he come up behind someone so quietly and just stand there without saying a word?

It was not like we were discussing something we shouldn’t have been.

So, what’s the problem?

I turned around with a smile on my face and bowed politely.

“Respected Mentor Mook Hyeseong, have you arrived?”

“Do you have so much free time to chat during the practice time I gave you?”

[Mook Hyeseong, who despises laziness, will be watching you closely from now on.

Mook Hyeseong’s favorability -2

Current favorability 0]

Darn! This was insane.

While his favorability barely budged when it increased, it plummeted so sharply when decreasing.

How unfair!

Before I could even make an excuse, Mook Hyeseong made his move.

“Give it a try. You guys are the last ones.”

We were the ones who were considered relatively better among those who were not good at it.

To be more specific, we were at a level where we had learned the choreography well enough to practice without any major problems.

“Yes!”

Yohan especially had an incredible memory.

Unlike me, who relied on the system to memorize the choreography, he had purely memorized the entire choreography from beginning to end through his own efforts.

He didn’t say it, but I think he memorized it even before I had a chance to learn it through my fortune-telling luck.

I was curious about his Intelligence.

“Ta-da-da-dah dah dah Ta-dah.”

“Ta-da-da clap clap clap! Ta-da-da clap!”

“Boom boom thump swoosh!”

We enthusiastically imitated the beat with our mouths, trying to learn the choreography for the first verse of Heart Attack.

That crazy… Yohan memorized all the lyrics too.

When our eyes met after the dance, he pretended nothing had happened, but I saw his lips mouthing the lyrics.

You brat.

Even though I was busy dancing, there was no way Hyeseong wouldn’t catch that.

He glanced at Yohan for a moment and then looked at me.

It seemed like he was going to start with me.

“You’ve memorized the choreography well.”

Now, we all knew that was not a compliment.

It means I only memorized the moves.

As expected, Hyeseong continued in a monotonous tone that didn’t really convey any emotion.

“You’re not putting enough power here, and you’re not taking it out either. If you’re going to differentiate the strength, do it properly. And in this move, you should shift your center of gravity to your wrist at this timing. If you don’t do it right, you’ll just get hurt.”

That’s because my strength was only 12…

“When you turn like that, won’t the song finish before you complete the move? Do the move accurately. The key to this dance is to be light on your feet… but you look like a heavy, un-oiled robot right now.”

That’s because my agility was only 11…

“Even if you’re not ready to focus on your facial expressions, don’t forget you’re an idol. People won’t watch you if you look like you’re dying after just one verse.”

That’s because my stamina was only 17…

“…”

Then Hyeseong turned his attention to another trainee with a somewhat awkward expression.

I wondered if my natural pitiful charm triggered some effect, but no notification said that a special effect had been activated.

I caught Yohan avoiding my gaze with an uncomfortable expression and asked him,

“Why is Hyeseong like that?”

“He’s like that because… you were laughing while being scolded.”

“?”

“Perhaps… No, never mind. Some people might prefer scolding over compliments. I’ll think of you as a younger sibling who enjoys being scolded more.”

After saying that, Yohan distanced himself from me as if he was hesitant to talk more.

Gosh, I finally understood the situation.

I must have unknowingly grinned while seeing my dance understanding improve with each painful piece of feedback from Hyeseong.

It was a misunderstanding.

A huge misunderstanding!

I was not that kind of pervert!

“Hyeseong, please listen to me. I’m not that kind of weirdo!”

“Uh, okay.”

Although he said he understood, Hyeseong coldly ignored me.

Only after insisting that it wasn’t true and persistently clarifying the misunderstanding did I finally recover 1 point in his favorability rating.

Sigh.

I was not as super handsome and cool as Jena, nor as graceful and sophisticated ballerina like Jihui, or even a refreshing cat-like beauty like Suyeong. However, did I really need to feel this guilty and tormented over Hyeseong’s favorability rating…?

Feeling engulfed by a sense of guilt, I lay sprawled out in the corner of the practice room when a few trainees taking a break approached me.

“You’re amazing.”

“Right. Are you not scared of Hyeseong? I feel like I’d get nervous just hearing him cough.”

Do you really get scared of NPCs while playing games?

I didn’t, at least.

Ah, to them, it must have looked like an ordinary trainee was fearlessly confronting a legendary senior idol.

I’ve been in the game world since last night, and after just having a chocolate latte and a donut, I’ve been busy shooting and practicing.

Not to mention, I hadn’t been able to sit in the first chair since, so my fatigue level was over 60.

I couldn’t think of anything to say to comfort them.

“Is that so?”

Smiling and brushing it off, they didn’t seem to expect a serious response as they shrugged and resumed practicing.

They were quite diligent despite the buff wearing off.

In reality, this place didn’t feel like a crudely designed game world.

People felt real. The hunger and cold also felt genuine, as did the joy I felt listening to the music.

Yet, the feeling that I was playing a game lingered in the back of my mind, like the names floating above the NPCs’ heads.

Was it because the only thing I’ve been doing for years was playing games?

Or perhaps because unbelievable events kept happening?

It was just a game, after all.

If I were doing something that’s not allowed, wouldn’t the developer, God, or some transcendent being have jumped in and banned me by now?

***

The shoot that started early in the morning finally ended around 10 p.m.

There wasn’t a trainee who didn’t doze off, and every three seconds, you could hear someone’s stomach rumbling loudly.

Since it was the first day, most of the trainees put in a lot of effort.

As a result, we were left with only enough strength to walk like zombies.

I wasn’t any different from the rest.

The production staff and mentors seemed to have snuck in meals, but we trainees only had a donut provided during the shoot.

Whenever I tried to catch a quick nap during delays, a staff member would yell at me not to sleep.

The player dislikes this kind of passion pay.

Were they even going to pay us for this?

The production staff said they would provide a late dinner once we moved to the lodging.

I hoped there would be enough food for all 100 of us to eat to our heart’s content.

As we left the studio with our half-dead steps, a quest completion window appeared as if it had been waiting.

[Main Quest “From a shut-in gamer to an idol in another world?!” Completed!]

As a quest reward, you’ll receive attention from trainees and mentors, a small amount of experience points, money, lodging for three days, and a place to get some clothes and necessities.]

[Level up!

You have available stat points to distribute.]

The experience points I gained from practicing, and the quest reward added up, and I leveled up.

I wanted to invest all my points into my Charm stat, but I restrained myself with patience and tried to think rationally.

First, I needed to increase my Intelligence.

It was a big problem if I couldn’t memorize things because of the lack of Intelligence.

Even though I initially increased my Strength, Agility, and Health stats, it was still far from enough.

I guessed that if these stats were insufficient, it would be impossible to reach a 100% understanding of the choreography.

How could I understand a dance 100% if my ability to dance was lacking?

And Charm…

Sigh…

Charm…

Let’s not talk about it.

Wisdom was the only stat that had been increasing smoothly.

I hoped it would continue to do so.

Realistically, I couldn’t raise all these stats to a high level during the three days I had to practice for Heart Attack.

I needed to improve my skills and grow during the program.

But then I thought…

“Even if I think rationally, shouldn’t I go for Charm?”

[1] Raon avoided the profanity filter by slightly altering the spelling of “미친다” to “미텼다,” thereby fooling the system into not recognizing it as a bad word.