The last filming for “Exclusive Report” ended at once without any retakes. As soon as the cut signal rang out, Manager Chanyoung ran over with a blanket, which surprised me.

After wiping off the paint, I received a huge bouquet and a cake. The message reading “From all Exclusive Report staff” was touching.

“I brought something too......”

Manager Chanyoung and I hurried around handing out individually wrapped non-alcoholic red wine. I’d prepared it after reading the last scene of the script, but everyone joked that they were too grateful and too scared to drink it for a while.

“What will we do if our set becomes desolate without Mr. Iwol?”

“Now only really big sunbaenims are left......”

The expressions of the two protagonists, facing confrontation with Cheonju Group Chairman, group executives, and other prominent middle-aged figures, darkened rapidly.

“I’m sorry, I’ll go first.”

“So you’re off to be a youth idol while we stay here. I won’t forget this grudge.”

“If you add a flashback scene, please call me. I’ll come anytime!”

“Really?!”

The PD must have been listening the whole time, because he suddenly jumped in. I had to reassure him several times before I was finally allowed to leave the set.

“Going straight to NB, right?”

“Yeah, if we go now, the timing will be perfect.”

With the drama filming over, the manager and I hurried for a quick return to our main job.

The 3rd competition was held in a subtly tense atmosphere. The sunbaenims were busy keeping an eye on the fresh rookies Parte and Spark.

Just the fact that no one was being openly dismissive made us feel more at ease, but maybe not Parte. Their greetings weren’t as loud as in the early days of the broadcast.

Doing well once might be easy, but maintaining the initial attitude for a long time was difficult. I hope you guys take time to reflect on yourselves instead of adding fuel to your fans cursing Spark as hypocrites.

Returning to the waiting room, I cheered for Jeong Seongbin and Kang Giyeon with all my might.

“Captain and Teacher, I believe in you.”

“The titles are too burdensome.”

Kang Giyeon replied reluctantly. Despite complaining, the guy confidently left the waiting room alone.

“Wow, why am I so nervous?”

After sending his friend off, Lee Cheonghyeon couldn’t sit still. He stood up from the sofa, leaned on the armrest with both hands, circled the waiting room, and sat back on the sofa repeatedly.

“You weren’t nervous when it was your turn, why now?”

“I really felt nothing during my turn, you know? But since a ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ member is going out, I’m nervous.”

Park Juu covered Lee Cheonghyeon’s trembling legs with a blanket. As always, he handed him a handmade slogan he’d brought from the dorm. Lee Cheonghyeon mechanically waved it back and forth.

“What kind of genre do you think it’ll be? Jeho, did you hear anything?”

“He didn’t say.”

“Security was airtight. We even share a room, but I couldn’t hear the intro at all.”

Park Juu, who was quietly listening to the conversation, sneaked up next to us from where he was sitting. It seemed just the mention of a new challenge sparked his interest.

Personally, I just hoped it wouldn’t be hard on Kang Giyeon’s legs. These guys didn’t say it outright, but ever since I came back after the Hong Unseop incident, they had been going out of their way to make their own routes longer and more complicated just to shorten mine.

At first, I didn’t notice because I was focused on dancing and learning the latest challenge choreographies every day. Later, when I checked the footage, I realized Kang Giyeon was practically teleporting.

“Blinder’s choreography was pretty intense too...”

Kang Giyeon wasn’t the type to suppress his own stubbornness. I wasn’t worried he’d force himself onto a stage he didn’t want.

I just hoped he wouldn’t overdo it, and that he’d be satisfied with what he did. I knew I was asking for a lot, but I couldn’t help it. They say the more you raise kids, the more you worry.

However, surprisingly and fortunately, Kang Giyeon refreshingly shattered my concerns.

He kept his movements restrained but chose an outfit that showed off his muscles, creating a striking silhouette. Dancing to a slow-tempo song, he carefully controlled the dynamics of his performance, creating a fresh scene rarely seen in competition stages.

What made this possible was definitely the high perfection. Every breath, every finger angle—it was perfectly synchronized, creating a cathartic sense of unity.

“I’m back.”

“What was that? That was insanely cool!”

Even his same-age friend, Lee Cheonghyeon, had no hesitation using the word “cool”—it was that good.

“Kiyeon, I’ll issue a press release today. ‘Kang Giyeon position battle successful... Choi Jeho applauds’, something like that”

“Jeho hyung? And hyung, stop issuing press releases.”

Kang Giyeon chided me shyly.

But it was true. Choi Jeho clapped three times. If I could, I wanted to connect my eyes to a beam projector and show it.

“Since Kiyeon did so well, I’ll work hard too!”

Inspired, Jeong Seongbin shouted his aspiration energetically. When I pushed an open tumbler to his mouth telling him not to use his throat before the stage, he quickly became quiet.

As declared, Jeong Seongbin did his best. Although receiving motivation from Kang Giyeon played a part, even if his dongsaeng had performed a regrettable stage, Jeong Seongbin would have strived for the best stage just the same.

“Look at that terrifying volume. There’s no way he loses in on-site voting.”

The years Jeong Seongbin spent learning singing were probably longer than the years he lived without knowing singing. Having carefully managed his voice through his vulnerable growth years, his well-trained vocal cords were no longer a shackle.

Unless Han Gawoon’s side threw off the balance, there was nothing about the stage that deserved a poor score. The Captain’s dignity stood out.

Park Juu stared at Jeong Seongbin on the screen without taking his eyes off once. Every time the camera angle and lighting color changed, Park Juu’s eyes flashed.

The old Park Juu, performing live alone in a room with only one indirect light on, with eyes lacking sparkle, overlapped.

“Seongbin...... really loves singing. For me, it’s more enjoyable when I sing songs I like. But not Seongbin. Seongbin is happy whatever song he sings.”

When Jeong Seongbin was placed at the crossroads of suspending activities again due to worsening vocal cord nodules after barely returning from discharge.

In the quiet, newly rented house he moved into after leaving the dorm, Park Juu had said that with a smile so faint you could barely tell.

“That must be love.”

Others might think Park Juu was jealous, endlessly watching Jeong Seongbin on the monitor.

But I knew. Park Juu was a guy who valued his friend’s happiness as much as his own dream, willing to yield precious opportunities for his friend’s happiness, and a pure guy who just knew how great happiness it was to sing beloved songs to one’s heart’s content.

The result of the 3rd competition was decided to be announced at the recording after the next, combining the views of the video to be posted after the broadcast and overseas votes.

I wondered why they spaced out the schedule so much when there was already a big gap between recording and broadcast......

“Do you remember what we said during the proclamation ceremony, everyone? We said ‘Idol Annals of the Dynasty’ Season 2 would select the one to become king through a total of six stages.”

“Now we reveal a hidden mission you didn’t see in Season 1!”

...A project that required preparation time suddenly appeared. Along with Polo’s cheerful comment, the word “Madangnori” appeared on the electronic display board.

(Tl note: Madangnori is a Korean traditional outdoor performance)

So you’re just telling us to busk, right? Do you think the contestants are a vending machine that spits out a stage when you press a button? Do you know how much prep an outdoor event needs? You can’t just hang up a banner and call it an event.

“New places give new stimulation. It will be an opportunity to demonstrate your skills in an unfamiliar environment.”

“That’s right. The places where participants will present their stages were directly selected by carefully chosen K-pop officials.”

The most ominous phrase in the world appeared. “Carefully selected”. Doesn’t that usually mean, “We picked something without a transparent process, but it looks legit and lets the organizers pull some strings”?

I, Kim Iwol, who could pride myself as an expert in skimming communities, predicted that after this part aired, the first post title to come up would be “So who are the carefully chosen K-pop officials”. And no one would know the identity of those officials until “Idol Annals of the Dynasty” ended.

“The base you need to visit is right...... here!”

The text on the electronic display board changed into an image. I quickly looked for Spark’s name. Along with the location written next to it.

[Spark – Department Store]

“What’s with the location candidates?”

Thinking it might be a planning failure, I scanned the locations above and below, but they were generally ordinary. University districts or parks were classic places for busking.

The riverside, optimized to receive location buffs......

“Riverside?!”

“Wow, it’s my first time singing by the river......!”

......Parte took it.

F***, bring the official over here.

“Hyung, I think laser beams are about to shoot out of your eyes.”

“They haven’t yet? I thought they already were.”

“Give it ten more minutes and they probably will.”

At Lee Cheonghyeon’s words, I decided to close my eyes for a moment. It had been about 30 minutes since I had been glaring with bloodshot eyes due to rising anger. My eyes were starting to feel stiff.

“Is a department store that bad? Open fan meetings are often held on the 1st floor of department stores.”

“Right. Lee Cheonghyeon’s ad is probably hanging there, too.”

“That probably can’t be aired on broadcast? It’ll look like paid advertising.”

Lee Cheonghyeon and Kang Giyeon remarked naively.

Yeah, department stores were good for events. It was clean, had plenty of staff to control crowds, and at least it was indoors.

But that was about it. No other advantages could be found.

Reason for doing mini fan meetings at department stores? Simple. There wasn’t enough space to do anything else. Put down a few chairs and a table, and you got the stage.

Sound was an even bigger headache. If you played the music too loud, the closed structure made it echo and disturb the shoppers.

It was not a good environment for professional equipment, and even installing gear came with restrictions. The mic was going to be full of noise. If Park Juu didn’t blow out the speakers while singing, it’d be a miracle.

While groaning and looking for countermeasures, I heard an “Uh?” from behind.

I still hadn’t announced the basic manner of prohibiting “Uh?” for trivial matters. My mistake.

I turned around to ask Kang Giyeon to refrain from frequent use of “Uh?” for everyone’s mental stability.

However, Kang Giyeon’s expression was quite serious. A complicated face looking puzzled and surprised.

“What’s wrong?”

At my words, Kang Giyeon looked alternately at me and the manager. The manager’s phone started ringing.

“There’s a dating rumor about Jeho hyung.”