WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 89: Please Fill In for Me
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* * *
Perhaps because the performance had come so out of nowhere.
Or perhaps because the music they had just heard had been too shocking.
Even after the song ended, the customers, staff, and bluebird in the restaurant stared blankly and blinked for quite some time.
“How was that, partner?”
There were only two exceptions.
Eugene, who grinned after finishing the song.
And Rimon, who set down his guitar and rubbed his temples as though he had a headache.
“...Aren’t you making me do something way too reckless out of the blue?”
“But you did it, didn’t you?”
“More than half of that was luck.”
“Either way, you solved your problem, right?”
Rimon fell silent.
He watched Eugene beam with a troubled expression, then let out a sigh.
“Yeah. I think I gained a small insight thanks to you.”
“OK! Then you owe me one, right? So next time I want a performance, you can pay me back by doing one?”
“That’s not how it works.”
“Hm?”
Still beaming as though nothing could make Eugene happier, Eugene looked on as Rimon indifferently pointed at the empty plates on the table.
“Before we discuss the priority of debts, shouldn’t you pay for this meal first?”
“Huh? I thought my partner was buying?”
“I never said it was free.”
Rimon snorted softly.
He could buy a friend a meal, but he was not about to become a sucker.
Eugene had indeed given him a clue for catching the killers, but that did not mean he intended to let Eugene fleece him.
[Wow, petty.]
‘Want me to put your meal on the ledger too and make you repay it with compound interest?’
[...]
[Friends should be clear about money! This is different from a boss buying lunch for a subordinate, obviously.]
Perhaps Eugene had never expected the meal they had eagerly devoured to become a debt.
After glancing at the mountain of empty plates piled across the table, Eugene smiled brightly.
“Partner, I’m having trouble getting money together because creditors are after me. So...”
Rimon smiled just as brightly.
“You’ll pay me back when you have some breathing room?”
“How did you know???”
“People trying to borrow money and skip out on it always say that.”
“Partner, I’m hurt that you don’t trust me.”
“Shouldn’t I be the hurt one? I bought a meal for a friend who can’t repay it.”
That was how their argument began.
Eugene made no effort to hide the intention of putting Rimon in debt and turning him into a personal on-demand performer.
Rimon stubbornly insisted that one matter was one matter and another was another, so Eugene should settle the meal bill first.
Caught between the two as they made the restaurant noisy for an entirely different reason than before, Yoo Na-gyeong covered her face with her wings.
[Why am I the one who has to be embarrassed?]
While the two were in the middle of their heated argument, an unexpected voice cut in.
“Excuse me for interrupting, but could I speak with you for a moment?”
“I’m busy, so get lost.”
“I’m talking to my partner.”
Rimon and Eugene dismissed him without hesitation.
Yet the man who had spoken did not look offended in the slightest.
As if he had met a savior in hell, he simply wore a smile that rated 120 out of 100 and added one more sentence.
“If you could spare me some time, I’ll pay for the meal.”
“OK! Sit here!”
As though Eugene had never ignored him at all, Eugene happily made room.
‘...Damn it.’
Unlike Eugene, Rimon had suddenly lost the useful leverage of the meal bill. He looked thoroughly displeased.
He eyed the man disapprovingly and asked bluntly,
“Who are you? You don’t look like you came to complain about us being loud.”
“Ah, I suppose I haven’t introduced myself.”
Though Rimon, who clearly looked younger, had spoken to him informally from the start, the man did not so much as twitch an eyebrow.
Instead, as though grateful for being reminded of something he had nearly forgotten, he handed them two business cards.
The moment they checked them, Rimon and Eugene’s expressions reversed completely once more.
The man smiled at them and introduced himself.
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Kim Seung-jun, a producer at KTB.”
* * *
“Where did you say? KTV?”
“...It’s B, not V. KTB.”
“Ah, right. Sorry. I don’t really watch cable television.”
“That’s understandable. It feels odd to say it myself, but our cable network certainly isn’t very popular.”
Kim Seung-jun gave a bitter smile.
These days, some cable networks had ratings that rivaled terrestrial broadcasters, but that was only true for the successful ones.
Some cable networks had average ratings lower than even a national anthem broadcast, and unfortunately, KTB was one of them.
Perpetual deficits.
Insufficient funding and staff.
Outdated equipment and poor name recognition.
It had gone beyond being strange that the station had not already collapsed. One could say it was already rolling around in its grave.
“So what was the failed broadcaster preparing? Music...?”
“[Music Challenge].
It’s a program where singers and musicians take on difficult challenges, with rewards for those who succeed.”
“What is this, a game quest? You give them missions and rewards?”
“Actually, a game company sponsors the program. If it succeeds, they plan to make an app game with the same name.”
“...Aren’t you counting your chickens a little early?”
“As I said, our station’s situation is what it is.”
For other stations, it would have been a routine investment.
But for KTB, this program was a large-scale project that could decide the station’s fate.
There were even open rumors that if this attempt failed too, the station would be sold or merged.
“And our secret weapon for making this project a success was securing Claire for the show.”
“Claire... You mean that kid who shows up on TV now and then?”
“Yes. Just having Claire appear and sing would bring in at least ten million viewers.”
At least ten million in Korea alone.
Including overseas fans, Claire boasted a fanbase numbering in the thousands.
A singer at the height of her popularity, and also a renowned duke-class Player, Claire was practically a guarantee of success in the Korean entertainment industry.
“The game company only made such a large investment in the program because WIM, Claire’s guild, assured us that she would appear. But...”
“So that promise fell through.”
“...It’s my fault. No matter what that son of a bitch Manager Moon said, I should have gotten the contract!”
Kim Seung-jun gritted his teeth.
He should have realized it when Manager Moon kept arranging meetings and accepting hospitality, yet pretended every time that they had forgotten to bring the company seal.
Manager Moon was such a notorious bastard that Kim Seung-jun had assumed they were simply trying to squeeze every last benefit out of the hospitality. That had been his mistake.
“Well, high-level Players having terrible personalities is nothing new.”
“Claire is a good person. The problem is that WIM, her guild, and Manager Moon are scumbags who often abuse their power like this.”
“I wonder if that’s really true.”
“Pardon?”
“Guild or manager, the important thing is the person involved’s wishes in the end, isn’t it?”
Rimon continued in an unconvinced tone.
“I don’t know much about entertainment, but if she didn’t want it, could a guild really change the schedule of a duke-class Player above Level 80 on its own?”
In this Iron Age, even a Player above Level 60 was considered a high-level Player capable of operating as a one-person corporation.
A duke-class Player above Level 80 possessed income, influence, and martial strength comparable to a major corporation, each standing near the peak of their field.
For a guild to ignore such a person’s wishes and alter a contract as it pleased?
It was absurd.
“...If it’s WIM, it may be possible.”
That was why Rimon looked puzzled at Kim Seung-jun’s hesitant reply.
“They aren’t even one of the Ten Great Guilds. Is that possible?”
“You don’t need to be one of the Ten Great Guilds to have that level of influence.”
“Hm?”
Rimon rubbed his chin.
Then he asked in his mind.
‘Hey, Na-gyeong. Is WIM’s Guild Master some Monarch’s brother-in-law or something?’
[How would I know? The entertainment industry was handled by an entirely different team.]
‘Still, you must have heard something.’
[Well, I’ve heard that WIM is doing well in that industry, but as for any other rumors, I don’t really...]
Rimon and Yoo Na-gyeong tilted their heads.
Both had been PAB agents, so they knew the major guilds in Korea well.
That was why they found it difficult to understand how WIM, which was ultimately only an entertainment agency despite being Korea’s top entertainment guild, could possess such power.
“So?”
A gruff voice pulled the two out of their thoughts.
“Why are you telling us this?”
Eugene had welcomed Kim Seung-jun with a broad smile upon hearing that he would pay for the meal.
But for some reason, Eugene now looked openly displeased.
Kim Seung-jun answered Eugene’s blunt question without hesitation.
“To be direct, I would like to recruit both of you.”
“Hm. So Claire dropped out, and you want to use us to plug the gap?”
“That’s correct.”
Rimon wore an odd expression for a moment at the thoroughly predictable answer, then scratched his cheek.
“I have a lot of questions, but let me ask just one first.”
“What would that be?”
“What are you after?”
“Pardon?”
“You said that Claire is an incredibly famous singer. Isn’t it strange to ask us to fill in for her?”
It was a cold observation.
And an entirely reasonable one.
Claire was a singer at the height of her popularity, with over ten million fans. Even a famous top-tier musician would struggle to fill her absence.
Yet Kim Seung-jun wanted to recruit Rimon and Eugene, whom he had met for the first time today and who were complete unknowns, as replacements.
Even Rimon, who knew little about the entertainment industry, could not help but tilt his head at that.
Kim Seung-jun’s answer was clear.
“Yes, it’s strange.”
“...Aren’t you agreeing a little too readily?”
“Because it’s true. If someone had asked me an hour ago whether I should use the two of you as replacements for Claire, my first response would have been to ask if they had lost their mind.”
It was an entirely natural thing to say.
If not for the fact that this assessment came from the very person who had made that insane suggestion.
“What changed between you an hour ago and you now?”
“The difference between before and after hearing you sing and play.”
Kim Seung-jun answered Rimon, who looked half dumbfounded and half intrigued, without the slightest hesitation.
“I’m still a green producer, but I have enough of an ear to distinguish good music from ordinary music.”
“So our music is good music?”
“No.”
Kim Seung-jun denied it firmly.
Then, looking directly at Rimon and Eugene, he spoke with absolute seriousness.
“It’s music that will definitely succeed.”
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