Debut or Die-Chapter 429

Direct one-on-one conversations with a fan are actually rare. Most communication is indirect—lightsticks waving on stage, or online posts. Fan signs are brief chats with many people in line. So a one-on-one moment like this is extremely rare.

“.......”

Even though I’m trapped here in a barely hanging, tilted room above the collapsed stage, and could die at any moment.

“Why are you here? Why are you here?!”

A shout came from beyond the wall, panic in her voice. Not terror—just shock at the stage collapse.

...She doesn’t know.

I slowly gathered my wits and assessed. Her lightstick shone brightly, but it projected forward, not illuminating beyond my field of view—only making her visible to me. She could barely make out my costume or outline; she couldn’t see my condition.

I swallowed and spoke.

“...I came to get something, got trapped. I’m okay.”

Am I okay? The wall blocked her anyway. In this unstable situation, nothing so bizarre would drag her in...

Idiot.

I should send her away. No need to add more variables.

“What do we do... wait. I’ll go get people—”

“No. It’ll be too chaotic if you call anyone.”

Even if ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) I let her go, she’d summon help—and that would be trouble.

Oddly, that gave me relief.

“Oh, right... sorry! Then... should I go around and try the door on the other side?”

“That could be dangerous. Better to wait like this until rescue arrives.”

“Okay....”

I couldn’t believe I had to stall for time by chatting. My eyes burned.

I never thought I’d feel this, and it made me laugh bitterly.

Stupid bastard.

I stepped back, leaning as if against the wall, and grasped the metal shelf again. With more distance, I felt calmer. I wouldn’t get drawn in.

Then I spoke, almost carelessly.

“Are the others okay?”

“I don’t know, but the members all left. After the announcement, everyone evacuated with the audience...”

That was a relief. I bit my tongue to avoid any false comfort and asked,

“...What about you, unnie?”

“Me? I’m fine! No injuries, and the shaking seems to have mostly stopped.”

She said she’d been searching for the storage of phones confiscated to prevent spoilers. Carefully climbing the emergency stairs, she spotted me through the collapsed wall.

“I was late getting out—I was in the front row.”

I forced a weak laugh, bitter at having involved her.

“You saw me.”

“...You saw me?!”

“Yes. You were sitting at the front on the left—so from your perspective, on the right.”

“Huh—ugh.”

I’d seen her occasionally since debut, but I’d never spoken about it—I intended not to.

I just kept talking.

“How did you get here? Were you free on the weekend?”

“Ah, yes. I’m not working right now—I’m a grad student.”

She studied biotech and had a dog...

She seemed anxious, so she shared personal details she normally wouldn’t with a stranger. She told me why she liked me—what stage performances and broadcast moments drew her in. In that warm, unfamiliar conversation, I almost forgot the situation.

“...I see.”

Listening quietly didn’t feel bad.

As she relaxed, she realized her own predicament and asked,

“Um... did they stop the stage because you felt something was wrong?”

“Something like that.”

She hadn’t seen me collapse. And since I didn’t surprise her by staying alive, she must not have realized I was the one who dashed out. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

They’d likely just assumed someone had died under the rigging.

“...Thank you for worrying.”

“...!! What are you saying! Of course... ah. This is downtown Seoul—rescues are on the way. Don’t worry... let’s just wait a bit longer!”

Her voice rang out, pitched up bravely.

I smiled.

“Yes.”

I made up my mind. Then—

Creak.

A sound from the door behind me. A premonition.

Cold sweat, renewed anxiety, that razor-sharp sense of looming failure all crashed back.

...It’s over.

My quick judgment returned. Should I leap forward now, past the fan and through that hole in the wall—just like I did into this storage room?

If I time it right....

“.......”

“Mundae? Are you hurt anywhere?”

But then I’d almost certainly pull her in, too.

“No.”

Right.

I released the metal shelf.

At the same moment, a foreboding crack rang out behind me.

The door shattered.

“...!”

“Ah.”

Screech—

Concrete ground together and tore apart.

The tiny storage room, with its eerie noise, detached and began to fall.

At the same instant, I lunged through the broken doorway.

Thud.

But the corridor beyond had collapsed too—so far that only my hands could reach the broken edge.

Below was black void.

“Hah!”

Thump.

I barely caught the fractured corridor edge and hung on.

...This can’t be.

My grip was failing. My arms, used already to extremes, could no longer hold my body.

I’m going to fall.

Over the roar, I thought I heard cries and someone calling me.

“.......”

But it was okay. This was the right choice, not the other side.

If you can’t avoid it, at least choose how you die.

I clutched a protruding concrete fragment and prepared for what would likely be my last moment.

—“Hyung!”

“.......”

Even now, there was one final attempt left.

Status screen.

Open it, contact Geundal...

[Calculating...]

At that moment, my blood-slashed hand slipped as if by magic.

“...!!”

I fell into the void.

A fleeting vertigo.

Then the cruel impact and pain that should have enveloped me—

...

[??’s search request! (101)]

[??’s search request! (102)]

[??’s search request! (103)]

[Confirm]

The world froze.

Time slowed infinitely; consciousness accelerated like flash images.

And the status screen that appeared before me, suddenly opaque yet crystal clear—hundreds of pop-ups overlapped, glowing.

A fresh pop-up appeared:

[Search Complete!]

[Result: Title Unlocked]

What?

[Title: The One Who Succeeds (Idol)]

—You have succeeded.

: Permanent removal of status ailments

“Oh.”

I remembered. After I’d last cleared a status ailment and confirmed the truth at Bae Sejin’s house, I received this perk—Geundal’s rule, translated by the system into language.

...A guarantee in the status screen that I’d never suffer a status ailment again.

Then,

This fucked situation... conflicts with the title.

At that moment.

Whish.

Pain.

I stopped mid-air, clutching my wrist as an immense crushing force threatened to snap me.

Time resumed.

A voice called.

“Mundae...!”

I looked up.

On the concrete above me, a pale face and a hand gripping my arm appeared.

It was Ah-hyun.

“...!”

I had no idea how she got here or what was happening, but the pain confirmed reality.

“Wait.”

Ah-hyun used astonishing strength to pull me up. Then, over her desperate face, words flashed beyond the status screen:

[Error!]

[Error Detected: Status Ailment Triggered]

[Attempting Recovery]

I gasped.

[Correcting]

[‘Status Ailment Failure’ → ‘Mission Failure’]

[Restoring Penalty...]

The status screen changed—became steadier:

[Sudden Event!]

Mission Failure: Building Collapse

—Disaster in collapsing building

: Next disaster in 00:59:59

One hour.

“Ugh.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay...”

My breath steadied as the tension and irrational pressure ebbed like a tide, leaving exhaustion, pain, and reasonable fear.

“You’re okay...”

I leaned heavily on Ah-hyun, slowly accepting—

“.......”

That I was still alive.

“Here—water.”

“...Thanks.”

I took the bottle Ah-hyun handed me. My teeth clipped it, but I drank and wiped my mouth; the label came into focus.

This...

They hadn’t prepared for cameras.

...You don’t have coins for a vending machine.

We were all in stage costumes, nothing in our pockets. It was ridiculous. The answer came soon.

“...!! Mundae hyung! Are you okay??”

As Ah-hyun supported me, Kim Rae-bin approached, clutching an emergency flashlight and water.

Apparently, when they judged I was cold, they’d dashed for blankets from the waiting room, then got separated by the collapse.

They don’t know the stage rig fell on me.

No need to mention it.

“...Your injuries are bad. There’s a first-aid kit in the waiting room—let’s disinfect first...”

“Got it.”

I calmed Rae-bin, on the verge of tears, then asked as steadily as I could,

“So this is the second floor, where the waiting room is?”

“Exact...”

That water had come from the waiting room. The route down to the first floor backstages was blocked by the fallen ceiling.

Then,

“Where is the rest of the staff?”

“They evacuated, got separated... we’re not sure where they went.”

“.......”

I narrowed my eyes at them. They, too, looked like dust-covered wrecks.

Surely they didn’t hang back to hear some weird rumor and then find me here.

But there’d be time to ask after we escaped.

Right.

Escape.

I checked the status-screen pop-up again—honestly, I hadn’t closed it for fear it might disappear.

[Mission Failure: Building Collapse]

—Deadly disaster of collapsing structure

: Next collapse in 00:55:37

Switched from status-ailment failure to mission failure—more focused, slightly more helpful.

Maybe because I have the ‘Mission-oriented’ trait and it linked to that.

They’d shoehorned it somehow.

Still, if I’d seen that pop-up before this started, I’d have gone insane.

Now it oddly reassured me—an hour is something.

At least I can try.

If an idol I loved died mid-conversation, that’d be real trauma. I wanted to leave some sign that I’d survived.

I headed to the waiting room for the emergency care Rae-bin insisted on.

“My back...”

“Get proper treatment when we get out.”

Her hand shook as she treated my back.

“Wh-what were you doing upstairs before this...?”

“.......”

I hesitated, then changed the subject to what needed doing next.

“I was actually looking for Geundal.”

“Geundal...?”

“You saw her in the Gold chat before.”

“Ah!”

She must have been the one making endless search requests on the status screen—it’s the only one who can access it.

And she tried to link it to my title and mission trait to find a loophole.

She’d done something akin to what I’d often had her do.

...In other words, she’d tried to save me.

If so—

I need to find out what more she knows, and whether she can handle this similarly.

But right now we couldn’t communicate.

[Mission Failure Penalty: Status-screen extra features restricted.]

Now every time I tried a pop-up chat with Geundal, that appeared.

No choice but to meet in person.

To get her cooperation, I had to be honest so far.

“The status screen warned me about this collapse like a preview.”

After explaining briefly, I swallowed and said,

“So I need to find Geundal and see what she knows...”

“No, you can’t.”

“...?!”

“Mundae, you’re too injured. Until rescue arrives, I’ll look after you.”

“I want to, but...”

I admitted, even if reluctantly.

Anyway—

“If we stay here... in 49 minutes 31 seconds, the building collapses again.”

“...!!”

“She might find a way to stop it—so we have to try something.”

I got to my feet. I felt some strength returning.

Time to move.

Geundal, knowing her, would stay in the building even now.

“.......”

Cheongryeo pressed the call button on his phone.

“The number you have dialed is turned off. Please leave a message after the tone...”

Beep.

The same message.

No answer.

But the signs before him didn’t lie.

He opened the emergency door and looked down the collapsed third-floor corridor.

He must have run this way—and...

He’s alive.

At least this far.

He shone his phone’s light down. Concrete and metal shards lay jumbled.

No bloodstains.

“Maybe we should find the PA speaker...”

“Quiet.”

Judan fell silent.

Did I come for nothing?

He had followed the leader out of the waiting room on a hunch, only to be trapped by the collapse.

There was a game like this...

Judan frowned and followed Cheongryeo down the emergency stairs.