“What? Don’t be ridiculous.”
I shot Shin Tae-boem a glare, but instead of backing off, he quickly handed me a tissue.
“Seriously—look in the mirror. You’re actually crying.”
Instead of checking the mirror, I wiped under my eyes.
…Wet.
“…Huh?”
Why am I crying?
It’s just a compliment. It’s not that big a deal…
That’s what I told myself, and yet… the silent tears wouldn’t stop.
“What the hell is this?”
Flustered, I hurriedly dabbed at the tears with the tissue, only to find everyone staring at me with this pitying look.
The CEO gently patted my shoulder.
“There, there, our precious boy. You must’ve been starving for praise.”
“…That’s not it.”
“Of course it is. Don’t be embarrassed. If you keep up those vocals, you’ll be hearing it nonstop from now on.”
“No, seriously. I’m fine.”
And yet, the tears wouldn’t stop. I was going insane.
What the hell?
Not a single tear when I was dying with holes through my body, and now they won’t stop.
Even I didn’t get it.
Once I finally wiped away all the tears, everyone from the company shifted back to talking about my upcoming re-evaluation.
“But what if Yu-jin gets a much higher rank than before?”
“He just now decided to start participating again…”
“A D-rank Guide like him isn’t easy to find, you know.”
Their faces, so bright from the buzz about my singing, suddenly darkened again.
They were such easy people to read.
Hmm…
My true Guide rank is SSS. If I go along with the re-evaluation, I’ll probably be reclassified correctly with no problem.
That’d make it easier to gain access to classified information through government or guild affiliation—especially regarding that bastard.
But…
For some reason, I didn’t feel like leaving this place anymore.
Maybe that’s why before I even realized it, I found myself saying this in front of the worried-looking staff:
“…Then, isn’t it fine if the results come back the same as before?”
The CEO blinked dumbly.
“Huh?”
“Right?”
“W-Well… yes, technically.”
“Then that’s all that matters.”
No matter how many tests they run, Yeon Yu-jin’s ability rank isn’t going to magically increase.
I was clueless when I first Awakened, so I couldn’t hide it—but now? I’m a seasoned frontline Guide with a head full of combat memories. Faking a test result would be a piece of cake.
“Let’s just focus on practicing for <K-101> instead.”
***
The next day.
The Secreti members and I headed to the cable network Ktbc for the filming of <K-101>.
Thanks to the CEO and the members insisting I needed to get glammed up first thing in the morning, I got dragged to a beauty salon. I dozed off during the process, and by the time I woke up, poof—magic makeover complete.
During makeup, the stylist kept complimenting my skin, saying how well the products went on. I was too sleepy to respond with anything more than a drowsy “Mm-hmm, okay.”
So this is a broadcasting station…
I’d been warned repeatedly by the CEO and the manager not to act like I’d lost my memory, but I couldn’t help glancing around as we entered the building.
Staff buzzed around in all directions. People who looked like current celebrities, maybe guests for other programs, walked by.
No matter how much attention Secreti had gotten lately, we were still basically nobodies in the industry—no one paid us much mind.
As I craned my neck curiously, Ra Ho-yeon, the leader, warned me.
“Quit looking around like a damn meerkat. I told you not to act like it’s your first time at a station.”
“…I got it, okay?”
I wasn’t scared of Ra Ho-yeon. I just didn’t want to give the manager another headache on my account.
So I kept my head down and followed quietly, until a staff member led us into the <K-101> recording studio and waiting room.
So this is where we’re performing today.
Behind the stage, staff were checking the dreamy background visuals. Bright lights. Sleek outfits tailored for performance.
Everything felt surreal.
Like I was staring at a soap bubble that might burst with the slightest touch.
We took our seats with the scripts we’d been given in advance.
MC Seol Yurang arrived shortly after.
He was a popular ballad singer with years of experience. According to the manager, he used to be the main vocalist of a top idol group, but after they disbanded, he launched a successful solo career.
I appreciated the manager going out of his way to explain things, knowing this was my first broadcast since the memory loss.
Even though I’d already looked him up and knew all this, I just nodded like it was news to me.
While I was spacing out, the MC greeted us with a kind, practiced smile.
“Hello, Secreti. I’m looking forward to today’s show.”
“Thank you for having us. It’s an honor to be here, sunbaenim.”
As team leader, Ra Ho-yeon stood and gave a flawless 90-degree idol bow.
So it’s just like the military.
I straightened up instinctively. No way was I going to be the one to mess this up.
Maybe he noticed my tension—Cha Si-yoon, the youngest, leaned in to whisper.
“Just take it easy, hyung. Ra Ho-yeon’s handling most of the talking. You’ll probably just get a line or two. Sing our group’s song, and that’s it.”
“…I know.”
I’d heard that about a hundred times yesterday.
Still… why’s he being nice to me?
Wasn’t Cha Si-yoon one of the ones who usually ignored Yeon Yu-jin completely?
I looked into his golden eyes, and he quickly looked away.
“If you know, then good.”
…What the hell?
The red On Air sign lit up, and the broadcast began in earnest.
“Welcome to the music university, <K-101>. Hello, I’m your host, Seol Yurang. Today, we’re meeting a special guest who turned crisis into opportunity—a rising star and ability user. You’ve probably heard of them by now. The five gallant idol knights—Secreti.”
As the MC’s lively introduction played, we stepped onto the stage and faced the camera.
…Of course, we had to do the idol-style group intro.
“Two, three! Save your Security! Hello, we’re Secreti!”
God, kill me now.
I know this is standard for idol groups, but actually saying it aloud made my skin crawl.
Even if that life is behind me now, I’m thirty, for God’s sake…
No matter how much I practiced, it just never felt natural.
Especially the double-finger-gun pose timed to Ra Ho-yeon’s cue. Not to mention the wink.
Still, thanks to all the rehearsals, my movements flowed smoothly.
Potato smacked the top of my head.
[Focus! It’s a recorded broadcast, but look—there’s still an audience!]
Okay, okay.
I locked in and focused, just in time to hear the MC’s clear, resonant voice.
We started with a bit of light “update talk” before the performance.
“You’ve recently been hailed as heroes for stopping a dungeon break. I know you’ve probably been asked this to death, but what were your thoughts at the time?”
If you know it’s repetitive, maybe stop asking.
Sure, I hadn’t gotten the question before—I’d been in the hospital. But the other members must be sick of it by now.
Seo Yoon-chae’s mouth twitched in irritation, but thankfully he kept smiling.
Ra Ho-yeon responded calmly, sticking to the script we’d prepared.
“We consider ourselves lucky. We’re not professional Hunters trained to close dungeons, so we’re just grateful it worked out. As ability users, it’s something we were obliged to do—but the fact that the public saw it positively makes us happy.”
His lines flowed smoothly, no missteps.
…Well, until this next part.
“But none of it would’ve been possible without Yu-jin—our team’s only Guide.”
Wait, what?
Before I could react, Cha Si-yoon chimed in softly.
“Yeah. If Yu-jin hyung hadn’t responded as fast as he did, we might’ve been among the victims of that Gate rampage.”
What the hell is going on?
None of that was in the script.
They were suddenly redirecting the credit toward me.
The MC perked up, intrigued.
“Oh? But isn’t it widely known that only Espers can fight directly? All the reports said it was the four members, minus Guide Yeon Yu-jin, who fought during the incident.”
Ra Ho-yeon calmly replied.
“That’s true, but none of us—myself included—are formally trained professional Hunters. We needed someone to lead us.”
Then Shin Tae-boem added his voice.
“And Yu-jin, our Guide, played that role perfectly. He amped us up through guiding, gave us instructions, and helped us coordinate. We couldn’t have done it without him.”
When did these guys get so good at talking…?
