There’s this old terrestrial TV show. It already passed its peak and was just limping along before ending in utter ignominy. “But thanks to its heyday, its name is still famous.” In other words, most of the nation knows the show’s name, but nobody wants to watch it anymore.
A variety show that sucked all the buzz and fun dry before going under. If that show somehow finagled a comeback season through connections... would anyone really have high expectations? Could they even book guests worthy of its former reputation? The answer’s obvious. “It’s not going to work.”
Agencies and stars aren’t fools—anyone hot right now is appearing on shows that are actually doing well. They’ll get invitations there anyway. “Why risk picking something so doomed?” It gets cut when better options exist. “And... given the show’s format, it’s impossible.” Because this variety is actually a ranked competition: .
Some people might remember the name. On the very first episode, even after reading all the paperwork, Kim Rae bin raised his hand and shouted, “It’s that show we went on when we debuted as Wises!” “Exactly.” In the system’s simulated world, it was the show that featured TeSTAR and VTIC’s joint group after debuting from LeTi.
“Oh, I remember that. That show was big. But why’d it fail now?” “Well, it was years ago.” “Oh....” Back then it thrived up through Season 7, but enough time passed that here reality looked very different. By Seasons 15 and 16, its buzz had died off, the original PD left again, and the show collapsed.
I stated the sober fact without emotion. “And industry consensus is that this reboot will probably tank too.” “.......” ‘Can’t be helped.’ Word’s spread so low that it’s impossible to book any big names. With only the title left, if they can’t land star guests there’s no comeback, no nothing. It’ll sink without anyone caring.
Even Keun Sejin—who was leafing through the documents—clicked his tongue. “Wow, they even added survival rules.” “Hm, recruiting must be a nightmare.” They’d tried to spice it up by going beyond a simple contest into survival format—and that makes booking known acts even harder. “Why would established stars risk coming when they’d likely lose face?”
That’s why existing survival shows stick to amateurs pre-debut or idols who aren’t well known. The potential gain must outweigh the risk of elimination and ridicule. “The PD must have a headache.” Given the reality, there was only one way to turn this around: secure at least one star with massive name value. That could break the deadlock. Build around that, and even if you lose, you’ll earn public respect for “putting up a fight.” Then other big names might join.
But even up to scheduling, they hadn’t found such a star... “...and yet, we’re volunteering to go on it.” “Yes.” Bae Sejin narrowed his eyes as if he had a lot to say; Ryu Geon woo gave an awkward smile. “The production team seemed fine with it.” “Obviously!” Sure enough, when TeSTAR dangled themselves as bait, the show’s team bit instantly.
– I don’t recall another network acting so eager... your side is extremely proactive.
An agency staffer said the public-broadcaster producers had never requested a meeting so politely or so desperately. Right—they desperately needed a hot idol to anchor their show. What if TeSTAR could be that anchor?
“With us on board, they’ll edit us favorably. And...”
“And?”
“With this show, we can leave a good impression on MBS.”
“...!”
We’d become the reboot’s founding heroes. Just like during <Re-Listing! Idol Incorporated>. Though terrestrial has ceded buzz to OTT now, year-end song festivals, music shows, weekend variety—there are still holes to exploit. “And they can’t exploit us like they owe us—‘You debuted because of us, so work for free.’” We’d stand as equals in partnership.
“Also, the PD’s high rank should make it more effective.”
“Oh... that makes sense.” A senior, well-connected PD holds more sway than a rookie. But Keun Sejin swiftly hit the core. “Is rank really more important than real influence? From what I’ve seen, this PD chose personal style over climbing corporate ladders.” Meaning he’d been sidelined politically and given this sinking project.
I smirked. “There’s another reason he took this.” “Oh?” “Apparently he began his PD career here on Season 3.” “I see.” His nostalgia likely drove him to reboot it—but his rank still couldn’t secure budget, showing the network had no faith in the show. Even though his track record shows he can make hits.
“If it succeeds now... wow, the network will be surprised, and the PD will get recognition.” “Mhm, great for everyone...!” Keun Sejin meant that synergy would benefit us too, and Seon Ah hyun looked pleased at how we’d help the team. ‘Both points are valid.’
But for any of this to happen, one thing was non-negotiable. “We have to win.” An overwhelming victory acknowledged by the vast majority of viewers. No stage, no point—this whole gamble would crater TeSTAR’s hard-earned reputation at the first slip. But... “If we win, this is ideal.” Breaking into terrestrial makes negotiations with other platforms easier. The hurdle drops. Maybe then T1 could snag us for an affiliated variety show... ‘If only.’
Domestic promotion worries would vanish. “Hm... as long as we keep domestic buzz, people abroad will stream our music too.” “Yes.” “Wait.” Bae Sejin interjected. “Isn’t this reckless? There’s no guarantee the producers will do right by us. Even if we perform well, other factors could—this business can fail anyway.” “......” “...I’m not trying to ruin the mood. ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) Just... had to say it once.” I understand. “Yes. You’re right.” “...!” “And honestly, even if we skipped this, we wouldn’t suddenly collapse.”
If TeSTAR were satisfied coasting, they could skip this entirely. They’ve won Daesang, toured the world, and for at least two years their name holds weight. But— “To climb further with more seniority, we have to secure platforms.” Like VTIC does now. This is a pivotal moment. “......” Bae Sejin nodded heavily. Determination flickered across the others’ faces.
“OK, I’m totally ready for that! Let’s get on it!” Except that one. Everyone but him ignored Cha Yoo jin’s shout and nodded in unison. “Let’s vote by majority.” “Agreed.” They kicked off the vote. Kim Rae bin fetched his laptop and ran an anonymous poll. The result was... “Unanimous.” Every vote in favor. “Well, that makes anonymity pointless.” “Told you.” They chuckled among themselves.
So we decided to shoulder the risk and leap into what looked reckless on the surface. Not long after, MBS took the lead and lifted the embargo.
[“The Legend Returns” , National Idol TeSTAR to Compete?]
Fans exploded in response.
At first, no one believed it.
The chance of a top-tier idol entering a failed reboot survival show was basically nil. They’d lose more than gain; better to spend that time touring.
But the article went live, and reporters even phoned TeSTAR’s agency to confirm.
[TeSTAR Confirms MBS Appearance... “We’ll Deliver an Electrifying Stage”]
In that moment, fan reaction... here’s a sampling from the ruthless corner of fandom:
└ LOL
└ Sorry, Big Sejin, won’t stop mingling with has-beens, pls help
...After the feature with Cheongryeo, they triggered headaches again.
“I’ll repay you by winning.”
If we scored big gains on that show, the payoff would be euphoric—no one expected it. And lose on stage as members of this group? “I don’t think that’ll happen.”
No matter how high expectations run, if it’s just about putting on a performance, I don’t see us faltering. Honestly, if we handle intel right, there’s no weakness against us...
[Survey Available!]
[Help: Customize features via survey feedback.]
No, I won’t use that. Does this look like an urgent intel situation? How many pop-ups is this now?
“What a persistent jerk.”
Never give up, huh. Fine by me.
I smiled inwardly at the popup.
“Our comeback was a hit, and soon Bae Sejin’s drama releases too.”
If we shine on this show then make our comeback? Company rank will climb inevitably. And after the Kwon Heeseung case, raising rank means more ■■■ fragments to absorb.
“Which means we could absorb what Cheongryeo has.”
Keun Sejin is dissecting this System’s internal algorithm diligently. Maybe we’ll finish before Cheongryeo enters military service.
So—
“I don’t need you.”
I dismissed the popup without a second thought, ready to refocus on stage concepts. Then suddenly—
“...?”
A translucent blue veil covered my vision, like sunglasses.
“What?”
I couldn’t tell what it was until I focused, then I recognized it: a massive popup, right in front of my nose.
[Owner Dissatisfaction Detected!]
“...!”
Like a protest. And then...
[“CompanySystem” Auto Re-Update Starting]
Wait a sec.