Chapter 37: Someone Has to Get Off

“Bus Prevention Law?”

I stared at the screen with a dumb look before finally managing to open my mouth.

Not only was the naming sense terrible, but the content itself was just…

“What the heck are they even saying.”

Yeah. That was exactly my reaction. Abandon a team member…?

‘What kind of nonsense is that?’

The murmuring among our team and all teams ranked below sixth place showed no signs of dying down.

“Alright—!”

As Choi Hansol spoke again, all the contestants instantly fell silent, like mice in the presence of a cat.

“Oh?”

Choi Hansol, who seemed about to say more, smiled approvingly.

“You’re all getting better at reading the mood. Knowing when to be quiet on your own.”

Enough with the useless compliments. Just hurry up and explain those damn rules.

“—That’s the look in your eyes, right? All of you?”

Hmph. For a split second, my eyes met Choi Hansol’s, and I shuddered involuntarily. Pathetic. To think I’d be intimidated by someone like him.

Choi Hansol let out a short laugh and continued.

“It’s exactly as it sounds. Teams ranked 6th to 10th must drop one member.”

Choi Hansol shot his index finger up, and with a flash, a logo appeared on the screen above.

“Right here, in .”

Damn it. I’m not here to listen to these obvious explanations.

Anyone with half a brain could figure that much out.

“Why do we have to do this?”

Unable to hold back, I raised my voice.

Fine. If they’re going to kick us out of the program like this, I needed a reason I could accept.

“‘Why?’ you ask?”

Choi Hansol fixed his gaze on me, looking like he was having the time of his life.

His eyes were completely different from before, as if he was staring at a foolish creature.

“To think such a question would come from the 10th place team. How pitiful. The reason is, of course…”

He stretched his arms wide and hugged his team as if to gather them all up.

“Because you didn’t do well. On stage.”

That’s their reason?

“Then if we do well on the final stage…!”

“Ten people!!”

Choi Hansol cut me off, shouting at the top of his lungs.

“Ten people is honestly way too many. Especially for a ragtag group like you all.”

Between Choi Hansol’s hands appeared a paper chain of connected people.

Exactly ten figures.

“For the five lowest-ranked teams, especially, we’re giving you another chance.”

Raising his left hand high, Choi Hansol let the paper chain dangle down, then grabbed the figure at the very bottom with his other hand, crumpling it up.

“One out of ten.”

His hand moved up, grabbing the second-from-bottom figure as well.

“Or maybe two, or even three. Who knows.”

The crumpled figures made a pitiful rustling sound.

“There’s bound to be someone holding the team back. The reasons may vary.”

Choi Hansol opened his tightly clenched fist, pulling out one figure.

“One of those.”

With a flick, the figure that hadn’t escaped his fist dropped away.

“We’re giving you the chance to exclude them—legally.”

The torn paper figure lingered in his hand for a moment, then, with a dramatic flourish, he sent it fluttering down to the floor.

“If you don’t call this a benefit, what else could you call it?”

The room fell silent once again.

A tense atmosphere spread among the lower-ranked teams as they began to eye each other warily.

“Uh… um…”

And our team was no different.

“What… what are you looking at!!”

“I wasn’t looking…”

Yoo Taewoo’s gaze swept over the team without much meaning, but Min Gan-jil flinched and snapped back.

Now’s not the time for you to be so sensitive. I’m the one who needs to figure out how to get us through this.

“Looks like everyone’s on board.”

Says who.

I still hadn’t accepted any of this. If that’s how it is, why not just start with nine people from the beginning?

But that was just my opinion.

“How will the selection work?”

The leader of the 9th place team asked Choi Hansol.

So they’re just accepting this? This system? How are we supposed to know if the one getting dropped did badly on purpose or just couldn’t help it?

Choi Hansol beamed as if he was delighted.

“Of course, after my perfect explanation, I knew you’d all understand. The selection method is simple!”

He snapped his fingers, and the image on the screen began to change.

“There are two ways!”

[Team Member Vote]

[Leader’s Authority]

Neither option was easy.

“Each team leader will choose one of the two methods. That’s how it’ll proceed!”

Choi Hansol’s voice grew even more animated.

“For the team member vote, just as it sounds, all team members will vote for one person. …Let’s call that person the ‘departing member’ from now on!”

Choi Hansol grinned, clearly pleased with his own naming sense.

“Each team member gets one vote, and the team leader gets two votes. The person with the most votes becomes the ‘departing member’ and leaves Be the IDOL!”

With a flourish, he pointed his finger again.

“At this time, the team leader can nominate one person to save from being chosen as the departing member.”

Choi Hansol suddenly lowered his voice and shrugged.

“But, if you do, you lose your voting rights, and the person with the next highest votes becomes the departing member. You still end up with only nine left.”

He grinned again, as if daring us to try thinking outside the box.

“And the leader’s authority. This method is very simple.”

Choi Hansol spun in place, tapped his foot on the floor, and pointed straight at me.

“In this case, the team leader selects the one member to be the departing member.”

Yeah, that was definitely simple.

‘So I have to decide—do we all share the blame, or does one person take the fall and everyone else is spared?’

Every single leader would obviously choose the first option. That was the sensible thing to do.

Plus, with the [Team Member Vote] option, there was even a chance for someone to play the savior and gain sympathy… There was nothing to lose…

‘But is that really right…?’

I couldn’t quite convince myself it was the right answer.

How could I be sure of anything in a situation like this…

“Now then!”

Choi Hansol’s voice crashed through my wall of thoughts.

“Team leaders from 6th to 10th place, please come to the front!”

Unhappy as I was, I stepped forward.

The staff hurried over and handed each of the leaders a console.

“Buttons…”

There were two glaringly obvious buttons—one red, one blue—demanding a binary choice.

“Alright! I won’t give you much time. There’s no reason to drag this out!”

He spoke as if the answer was already decided.

“If you want [Team Member Vote], press the red button! If you want [Leader’s Authority], press the blue button! And now, five!!”

Four, three, two, one.

The numbers quickly counted down.

“Let’s reveal the leaders’ choices!”

I had to make my decision.

*****

After the filming ended, we returned to our team’s practice room.

“Ugh, I’m exhausted…! Here, everyone, drink this! I don’t know what it is, but people from the other teams said it tastes good.”

I had just come back, my arms full of some unfamiliar coconut drink that was obviously a PPL.

“Ah… yeah. Thanks.”

Everyone was silent, but Jo Seha replied in an unusually calm voice.

It was only natural, given the interim evaluation results—even the ever-upbeat Jo Seha couldn’t keep their spirits up.

Red button, blue button. The choice had been over in a flash.

‘Ho… There’s someone who made an unusual choice. How interesting.’

Choi Hansol made a remark like that and carried on smoothly.

‘Since it’s such an important decision, wouldn’t the judges’ feedback be helpful? We’ll proceed with the departing member selection after the judges’ evaluation!’

Quick and ruthless. That was how things were moving.

Our turn came, and the judges began to speak.

‘First… about the highlight section in the middle? Focusing the team’s energy there was a good call. It had impact.’

Of course. That was my idea. With our lacking skills, the best way to show our charm was to focus everything on that section.

The problem was what came next.

‘But unfortunately… everything except those thirty seconds was disappointing.’

The criticism was relentless.

‘Park Minkwon, contestant?’

‘Yes.’

Park Minkwon, whose name was called for the first time, answered in a dejected voice.

‘I think you know you’re the biggest problem right now.’

A blunt, heavy blow.

‘Yes…’

‘You need to work harder so you don’t drag the team down.’

The other members got a bit of criticism too, but nothing compared to that.

The other judges’ opinions were much the same.

‘For the  team, overall, you still need more practice… I’m most worried about Park Minkwon. You got confused in the middle of the choreography, right?’

Park Minkwon’s face turned bright red, unable to answer.

Only the judge who’d worn a gentle expression all along had a slightly different take.

“With contestants of similar ability, I think you put together a decent stage. But what concerns me is… Kim Haram, contestant?”

Yes!

My name being called was unexpected, and the team’s eyes all turned to me.

“I don’t think being good alone is the answer. Right now, Kim Haram stands out too much in this team. You’re too prominent, and I think you’re actually overshadowing the other contestants… That’s something you should consider.”

I couldn’t exactly say, ‘What’s wrong with being good at what I do?’

“I hope you pay more attention and show us an even better performance in three days.”

That was the best way to wrap things up.

Still, after hearing the overall feedback, I felt relieved that my choice hadn’t been too far off.

‘Then, teams ranked 6th through 10th, please proceed with the departing member selection according to your chosen method!’

Most teams hurried over to the special voting booth set up behind the stage.

Our group’s steps felt especially light. And for good reason.

‘I’ll be back.’

Having pressed the blue button, I had to head backstage alone.

‘Yeah…! Good luck!’

Jo Seha saw me off with a worried look.

When I glanced at Park Minkwon’s face as I passed, all the redness from before had drained away, leaving only a pale expression.

When Park Minkwon saw me heading backstage, his head dropped even lower.

What, already…?

“Uh… Haram…”

Jo Seha’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts again. I really do seem to be lost in thought a lot lately.

“Yeah?”

“What… what should we do from now on…?”

“Uh… well, I guess we’ll have to think about that now?”

Right then.

Crash—!

A chair clattered to the floor, and everyone’s eyes snapped to Park Minkwon, who had suddenly shot to his feet.

“…What are you doing, Minkwon? Are you still sulking over the judges’ comments?”

Honestly—so timid. I tried to lighten the mood on purpose.

But Park Minkwon, looking like he’d made up his mind, strode straight toward me.

“Hey, if you’ve got something to say, could you say it over th—”

“You crazy bastard!!”

Thud—!

Park Minkwon grabbed me by the collar and slammed me against the wall.

“Urgh…!”

I didn’t even have time to say it hurt.

Smack—!

His fist crashed into my face, and I crumpled to the floor.

“Haram!!”

Jo Seha and Yoo Taewoo rushed over, grabbing onto Park Minkwon as he tried to climb on top of me.

“You crazy bastard… You insane bastard!!!”

Park Minkwon was sobbing, struggling to break free from Jo Seha’s grip.

Why are you the one crying? I’m the one who got hit.

“Sigh—”

A small sigh filled the room.

Did I make the right choice?

‘The departing member from here is me. Kim Haram.’

No regrets.