Debuting by Riding the Returnee’s Bus – Chapter 9

Author: LyraDhani

“Resistance?”

“Yes. Resistance.”

“Resistance against what exactly?”

“Resistance against our current situation, of course. It could mean resisting to escape the <Slave> class, or resisting this very auction. I didn’t really think about any deeper hidden meaning. It just came to me all of a sudden.”

It was true that the idea had come to me out of the blue, but the more I dwelled on it, the more I understood why I had settled on such an absurd theme.

‘It must be because of that.’

It was undoubtedly rooted in my memories of the other world—specifically, the memory I regretted most every time I looked back.

Right.

‘What would have happened if I had escaped that slave auction?’

It was a thought that crossed my mind every single day while I lived as that mad dark mage’s slave.

Of course, I knew it was a delusional fantasy. I wasn’t naïve enough to believe that a group of slaves about to be sold could simply work together and escape right before the auction.

However, after spending so much time in that other world, I realized it wasn’t a completely impossible or nonsensical story. The market where I’d been held had been a cheap slave market, one of the cheapest there was; the traders had been so stingy that they hadn’t even bothered branding every slave with slave marks.

What was even more ridiculous was that the security itself was incredibly lax. The guards had been mercenaries too drunk to stand properly.

After I had revisited the auction house later with my master, I became even more convinced. It was an environment where, just maybe, an escape really could have worked. Among the slaves waiting with me back then, there were combat slaves. There were demi-human slaves whose fighting prowess far exceeded that of humans.

Naturally, some would have died or been injured in the attempt, but with a bit of luck, we might have made it. At the very least, I might not have suffered through seven years of being a human experiment, deprived of freedom and even the choice to die.

This situation felt strangely similar to that moment, which was why the word slipped out. But…

‘Even so…’

Is it… a bit too much?

‘Should I reconsider?’

A theme like ‘Resistance’ in a mission like this was hard for the public to swallow, and if things went poorly, it could spark unnecessary controversy. Sure enough, I could see uncertain expressions spreading across the trainees’ faces. The opinions they voiced were all negative.

“Isn’t that a bit difficult? It feels too abstract.”

“I think it’s too conceptual too. I think it’d be better to do something eye-catching instead. What about going with an Eastern-style concept? Usually, when you do a traditional concept on a survival show… it’s a huge hit.”

“That’s even less realistic. We don’t have costumes, and we’re not rearranging the music. How would we even do that?”

“Shouldn’t we just stick to the basics instead of overthinking it? All the other teams will be doing that anyway….”

One thing that looked promising was that these guys were actually exchanging decent opinions.

‘I did a good job filtering out the guys who looked like troublemakers.’

They weren’t overly conscious of the cameras and didn’t hesitate to express disagreement with each other. Usually, once cameras started rolling, people hesitated to voice opinions because they wanted to protect their image, and they hesitated even more to vote against someone else’s idea. These guys didn’t seem to have that problem.

Perhaps it was because there were fewer cameras than usual, but I felt relieved seeing them approach the stage with such sincerity and passion. The problem was…

‘Too many cooks spoil the broth.’

Their voices were getting louder and louder as time went on. Just as I was about to open my mouth to settle things…

“I—I think we should do what Unha said!”

No. 123 suddenly shouted. He seemed to realize his voice had come out much louder than intended, because he immediately became visibly shy.

“I mean, well…”

“We’re already short on time for practice… if our opinions keep clashing like this… we’ll end up with nothing. Thirty minutes have already passed. We need to unify our vision… and be decisive. W—We’re just running in place. No one has a real plan, we’re just throwing out vague ideas… Unha is the one who gathered the team, and he seems to have the clearest vision. I think it’s right to follow his lead.”

The room suddenly fell silent.

‘Now that I think about it, maybe using Resistance as the concept really is pushing it…’

But the situation made it impossible to back out. Though No. 123 had been a bit impulsive, every trainee in the room seemed to realize he was right. While gathering everyone’s individual desires to find a compromise might help create an ideal product in a perfect world, it was useless when time was limited.

They realized anew that the most rational way forward was to let the person with the clear vision lead.

Right on cue, No. 141 raised a hand and chimed in.

“I think that’s the best approach too. Sitting here talking in circles isn’t going to change anything.”

Meanwhile, No. 123 was looking at me again with an expression that practically begged for a compliment.

‘What is with this guy? Seriously.’

Furthermore…

“For the Center… naturally, Unha should…”

‘Now that I look at him, maybe he actually hates me.’

I was starting to worry if he was trying to set me up for social suicide.

“No, I’m fine. I think someone else should be the Center! Preferably someone with good physical proportions… I’ll go ahead and organize the positions then. I don’t remember everything from the self-introductions, but I’ll try to match the parts as best as I can. Even if there’s something you don’t like, please bear with it. And I’ll choose the song as well!”

“Okay.”

“Yeah.”

“But Unha hyung, can I ask one question?”

“Sure.”

“I’m curious how you plan to express the concept.”

“The only way is through song choice and choreography.”

“……”

“Before I explain the details, I should tell you the song choice. I think our team would fit best with the seniors ‘Eleven’ and their song, [Punch].”

“Ah!”

“Ohhh….”

“It would definitely be good, but isn’t the choreography too difficult?”

“It’s okay. I told you before: I’m going to cut all the difficult parts.”

“Is that allowed?”

“Isn’t it much better than looking like a middle school talent show? And I’ll replace the deleted sections with other performances. Don’t worry too much.”

“For example?”

“Performances that are faithful to our concept. Like creating a human chain and breaking out… or the feeling of escaping from a prison. You know?”

“Ah!”

“Oh! That sounds great!”

‘Yeah. Starting to get the picture now?’

“Let’s get started right away. I’ll set the formation first. Everyone, gather in front of me.”

“Yeah. Let’s do that.”

“I think doing what Unha says is the best decision.”

‘You, please, just stop.’

While No. 123 was still trying to push the Unha Center agenda, the practice slowly began.

‘If I stand at the center, what do you think will happen to the stage? Are you kidding me?’

It wasn’t that I lacked skill. Compared to Joo Wooyoung, I was obviously behind, but among the Slave class, everyone was more or less on the same level. If I used the time properly, I might be able to leverage my tiny bit of recognition and the Succubus Eyes to make it work, but I was currently overwhelmed just leading—how could I handle being Center?

Strictly speaking, this wasn’t even full-scale producing, but it was work nonetheless. From formations to performance details to mediation, there was a mountain of things to do. I barely had enough time to memorize the choreo myself; there was no way I could shoulder the burden of being Center.

Whether he understood that or not, No. 123 kept trying to push me into the pit of disaster….

‘Please… just go over there. Seriously. What is wrong with this guy…?’

How could I not be frustrated?

“One, two, three! Four!”

“……”

“Good! Great! One, two, three! Four! Hyung, pop out here. Yes! Right here! You guys on the sides, grab him. Yes, yes. Shake once! Sing! Imagine the camera is right there and give a wink! You’re handsome! Good! Half step! Half step! One step! Back!”

“Th—Thanks….”

“One, two, three! Four! Hyung, this part isn’t working for you. I’m cutting it.”

“S—Sorry… My bad. Because of me….”

“No! No! Instead, you’re a great singer. We’re a team. There’s no need to apologize!”

“Hah… I’m really sorry.”

“I told you it’s fine. Move, move! One, two, three, four! Turn here! Turn here! One, two, three, four! Good! Good! Good!”

‘Even so… we’ve been ridiculously lucky.’

Maybe the luck I was supposed to use in the other world had somehow followed me here. I had picked the team with the mindset of avoiding traps, but they turned out even better than I expected. Of course, cutting most of the difficult choreo helped, but even so…

‘Being a trainee… isn’t so bad.’

There were definitely guys who made me feel that way. Even though they were still just aspiring pros, there were parts of them that already felt professional. If I said a few words, they understood immediately, or they would find ways to create eye-catching points themselves during gaps in the choreography.

“Let’s do a punch here. A punch!”

“How about the feeling of breaking out of a cage? Or maybe a kick?”

“That sounds good.”

“Let’s do what Unha says!”

‘I said, stop it, you.’

Even the teammates seemed to feel it. Constructive opinions were finally starting to emerge. Little by little, a sense of confidence—the feeling that we might actually pull this off—began to appear on their faces. And with good reason….

‘They probably know it themselves.’

How could they not? Some had never been official trainees, and some had only been trainees for a short time like me, but they were still guys who had dreamed of this industry since they were kids and had received specialized training. There were differences in talent and skill, of course, but their eyes were the same.

They were the ones who felt it most—the difference between our team and the others nearby who were just starting, or the beasts who were already raising their voices in arguments.

It felt a little harsh to say, but most teams were putting on a performance that was painful to watch. Some teams hadn’t even found their direction yet.

“This… is actually working?”

“Of course!”

‘Actually, I didn’t think it would work this well either.’

“Unha, I think… I’ve got the choreo down for the most part… Sorry, but can I go practice my vocals separately for a bit?”

“Yes, hyung. Go ahead. Just come back an hour before the deadline so we can sync up again!”

“Yeah. I’ll do that. Thanks.”

“No, I’m the one who should be thanking you.”

And so,

“One, two, three, four!”

<03:00:00>

“Let’s try one more time! Just one more!”

<01:29:00>