The notice went up at 7:12 a.m.
Not on the big bulletin board where elimination results were posted. Not announced out loud. Just a single printed sheet taped beside the practice room door, edges still curling from the heat of the printer.
Most people walked past it.
The ones who stopped were the ones who already suspected.
I saw it because the system nudged my attention—subtle, almost respectful.
[MINOR FUTURE DIVERGENCE DETECTED]
I stepped closer.
The paper was simple. Black text. No logos.
NOTICE
Selected trainees are to report to Conference Room B at 10:00 a.m.
Attendance is mandatory.
Regarding external schedule alignment.
Below it was a list of names.
I scanned once.
Didn't see mine.
Exhaled—then scanned again, slower.
There it was.
Min-joon
Third from the bottom.
Not highlighted. Not circled.
But unmistakably there.
My fingers curled slightly.
External schedule.
That phrase carried weight. Companies didn't waste it on nothing.
Behind me, someone sucked in a sharp breath.
"…No way."
I didn't turn around, but I knew that voice. A trainee who'd been cut once before and brought back as a last gamble. His name wasn't on the list.
None of the loud ones were.
Conference Room B was too clean.
Long table. Bottled water placed with deliberate symmetry. A faint smell of coffee and perfume—adult, professional, far removed from the sweat-soaked practice rooms we lived in.
Eight trainees sat spaced apart.
Eight names on the list.
Kang Jae-hyun sat two seats to my left, posture relaxed, leg crossed casually over the other. He didn't look surprised. That told me something.
The beige-coated woman from the evaluation entered last.
"This won't take long," she said, placing her tablet down. "I'm Director Seo. I oversee external programming partnerships."
She let that sink in.
Then—
"You've been selected as provisional participants for the idol survival program Rising Stars."
The room didn't explode.
It froze.
Rising Stars.
Everyone knew that name.
A looping idol show—seasonal, brutal, wildly popular. Trainees rotated in and out across episodes, rankings updated weekly, public votes layered over producer evaluations.
Debuts weren't guaranteed.
But exposure was.
Careers had been made there.
And ended.
"This is not a reward," Director Seo continued calmly. "It's an opportunity. One that reflects current evaluations, growth potential, and… adaptability."
Her gaze flicked toward me for half a second longer than necessary.
Adaptability.
I felt the system stir.
[MAJOR EVENT UNLOCKED: LOOP IDOL SHOW — RISING STARS]
STATUS: PROVISIONAL PARTICIPANT
My chest tightened—not with fear, but with something sharper.
Awareness.
"Participation is optional," she said. "Declining will not result in immediate penalties. However—" she paused "—future consideration may be affected."
Optional.
In the same way gravity was optional.
"I'll participate," Kang Jae-hyun said immediately.
No hesitation. No bravado. Just certainty.
One by one, the others followed.
When it was my turn, I heard my own voice clearly.
"Yes."
Director Seo nodded. "Filming begins in five days. Until then, your daily schedules will remain unchanged. You will receive additional guidelines."
She stood. "Don't embarrass the company."
Meeting adjourned.
Just like that, the ground shifted beneath us.
The system appeared only after I left the room.
[EVENT-LINKED DAILY QUEST UPDATED]
• Maintain Daily Training Requirements
• Public Image Awareness (Passive)
• Assist an Elderly Person (1)
BONUS CONDITION:
Demonstrate Authenticity During Rising Stars
REWARD: UNKNOWN
Unknown rewards were the most dangerous kind.
I walked down the stairwell slowly, letting the noise of the building settle around me. Five days. Cameras. Viewers who would decide my worth based on edited fragments of who I was.
In my old life, I hated being seen.
Now—
I was stepping onto a stage designed to strip people bare.
"Min-joon."
I turned.
Kang Jae-hyun stood a few steps up, hands in his pockets. Not smiling.
"So," he said, "Rising Stars."
"Looks like it."
He studied me openly now. No pretense. "You weren't supposed to be here."
I didn't take offense.
"I know."
A corner of his mouth lifted. "Then don't waste it."
He walked past me, footsteps unhurried.
That evening, I helped an elderly woman find the correct bus near the station. She told me about her grandson, how he liked music, how she worried about him too much.
I listened.
When I returned to the dorm, the system acknowledged the quest—but lingered.
[AUTHENTICITY METRIC: STABLE]
[EMPATHY TRAIT — SYNERGY DETECTED]
I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, the word Rising echoing in my mind.
This wasn't a shortcut.
It was a loop.
A place where idols were tested again and again, until something broke—or hardened.
Five days.
Then the cameras would start rolling.
And this time, the world would be watching me learn how to become real.