Chapter 153

At that moment, Roy.

Roy stood backstage, dazed, staring at the screen.

“Hey, straighten your shoulders. Your reaction’s dragging,” Yeon-woo teased.

Shut up. I’m not happy at all.

Roy shot Yeon-woo a fierce glare instead of answering.

“Puhat! Looks like beams of laser are shooting from your eyes.”

Whether Roy glared or not, Yeon-woo just kept snickering.

“Stop it, Yeon-woo,” Taeeon intervened, unable to bear it any longer.

All the contestants were waiting together in the area below the stage. The waiting room had only a few chairs and a large monitor showing the live broadcast feed and comments in real time. As soon as the VCR was revealed, the comment window was flooded with Roy’s name, prompting everyone to laugh for a moment. Then, the hint flashed on the screen, and the waiting room buzzed.

“‘Face your deepest fear’? Are there like a hundred blood fiends in there?”

“Wow... that’s kind of horrific.”

“I can’t even imagine what might come out.”

Although the scenes in the VCR were acted by the contestants themselves, the blue door and the letters that appeared above it were added in post-production, so there was no way to know beforehand. The contestants hadn’t been told anything about the challenge either.

Roy also wore a stern expression from the moment he saw the phrase on the screen.

‘Face your deepest fear?’

Locked in a deep ocean and forced to escape? Or underground? If it were the latter, that field would favor Taeeon. Whoever drew the last entry order would be most advantageous, since they could watch the earlier contestants and roughly plan a strategy.

‘Just avoid being first.’

The contestants, who hadn’t even been informed of the survival order yet, were gripped by an inexplicable tension. A moment later, Seo Han Gyeol reappeared on stage, stopped before the blue door, and picked up a microphone. With majestic background music playing, he stared at the camera for a beat before unveiling the final challenge.

“[Han Gyeol: Final Survival. The last challenge is ‘fear.’]”

Then he explained the rule: the eighteen contestants would enter that door one by one.

“[Han Gyeol: Beyond this door, each contestant will face the situation they fear most.]”

He added that only the one who emerged from the door fastest would claim the glory of “Star Hero.” The waiting room buzzed again when he spoke next.

“[Han Gyeol: Of course, you may withdraw at any time.]”

“Withdrawing? Ah—he’s really poking at our Awakener pride.”

“Withdraw? Like, you get something to eat?” Puhaha!

“There’s no way anyone will quit.”

Everyone scoffed at the idea of withdrawing, mocking the producers’ “consideration.” But Roy’s thoughts were different. During the previous three survival rounds, the producers had never offered the option to withdraw. That didn’t mean the earlier challenges were easy; in fact, the difficulty had only increased, and in the third round they’d shoved contestants into a den of blood fiends.

‘There’s definitely something up.’

If it boosted ratings, those TV bastards wouldn’t hesitate to do anything. There was bound to be a challenge so brutal that someone might choose to quit. Roy quietly warned Yeon-woo and Taeeon.

“Be careful. I don’t think this will be an easy task.”

He meant: forget about pride, and if necessary, choose to withdraw. After all, winning was already his by right. Unlike Taeeon, who listened gravely, Yeon-woo just laughed with a mischievous grin.

“Hey, don’t underestimate me. Just watch closely. I’ll really show you something.”

Sighing at this fool, Roy turned his gaze back to Han Gyeol on the screen. Having finished explaining withdrawal, Han Gyeol continued with the entry order.

“[Han Gyeol: The order will be decided at random, and the first contestant will choose the next one to go in.]”

“[Han Gyeol: I will personally draw the first contestant for the final survival.]”

As soon as he finished, a box containing capsules rose slowly from beneath the stage. Han Gyeol plunged his hand in, stirred vigorously, and finally drew out a small ball. The name written on it was—

“[Han Gyeol: Final Survival. The first contestant to begin is—]”

Tension filled both the auditorium and the waiting room. Then Han Gyeol announced the name.

“[Han Gyeol: Contestant Park Yeon-woo.]”

“Gulp. Me? Me?” Yeon-woo’s voice cracked.

This is insane. Why did Yeon-woo’s name have to be called first? If only it had been Taeeon, I wouldn’t feel this uneasy. Taeeon was serious and composed, someone I trusted to make the best choice in any situation. Yeon-woo was different: talented, but impulsive. Ever since their rank went up, they’d been even more reckless.

‘I wish they’d at least peek inside before going in.’

Roy glared at Han Gyeol on the screen. Whether it was rigged or just random, this fool wouldn’t help things.

“Contestant Park Yeon-woo, please move to the door.”

“There—it’s calling me. Roy, Ham, I’m off! Stay sharp. I might come out first! Kyakyakya!”

Oblivious to Roy’s worry, Yeon-woo bounced after the staff. Taeeon patted Roy’s shoulder sympathetically.

“Don’t worry too much. They’ll be fine.”

I still can’t help worrying... but now that it’s happened, all we can do is wait for Yeon-woo to return safely. Roy watched the blue door undulate on screen. Before long, Yeon-woo reappeared on stage. Waving to the roaring cheers, they stopped before the door. At the start signal, they stepped forward with determination.

✧

The moment Yeon-woo entered the blue door, the stage lights dimmed and the screen lit up with their back. Beyond was a corridor that stretched into darkness.

“What the...? There’s nothing here.”

They looked around, puzzled. Then the surroundings gradually brightened, revealing a scene. It was an archery range.

“Yeon-woo? What are you doing there?”

“...Coach?”

“Come on, let’s practice.”

“Practice?”

Startled, Yeon-woo backed up and looked at their hands, which were now holding a bow.

“Why is this...?”

“If you’re one second late, I’ll add a hundred more arrows to your count.”

“What? There’s no way!”

Faced with a threat more terrifying than any, Yeon-woo dashed forward. Standing at the shooting line, they stared at the target, then at the coach.

“But am I really going to shoot now? I’m not even a player.”

“What are you talking about? Did you dream this? Why wouldn’t you be a player? Talking back? Hundred more arrows.”

“Wait—no—”

“And since you argued back again, another hundred.”

Only after loading five hundred arrows did Yeon-woo assume the correct posture.

“The wind’s picking up, and it looks like rain’s about to pour. Perfect practice weather. Get into position.”

“Yes.”

Taking aim, Yeon-woo drew the string back as far as they could.

Whoooooosh—

The wind grew stronger, spinning the wind gauge. Still, Yeon-woo focused intently on the target. At the precise moment they released—

Squaek—

The arrow flew and pierced the bull’s-eye.

“Ten! Right? Haha! Even without practice, I can shoot this well~!”

Yeon-woo laughed triumphantly and looked around—but the coach had vanished. The teammates in the adjacent lane and the coaches sitting in chairs watching practice were gone too.

“Huh? Where did everyone go?”

Maybe they went inside because of the rain? Then why leave me out here? They’re so mean, I wanted to complain—when suddenly—

“Aaah!”

A faint scream echoed from afar.

“Hmm? ...A crow?”

Turning toward the scream, Yeon-woo cocked their head, then straightened it. Shortly after, another sound came.

“Ki-eeek!”

And that sound was all too familiar.

A blood fiend.

Yeon-woo’s body froze. They knew exactly what scene would unfold if they looked back.

“Wait... this is...”

Their hand began trembling visibly. Gasping for breath, Yeon-woo unbuttoned the top button of their shirt and yanked at it, but the stifled air wouldn’t calm.

“Hoo...”

They took several deep breaths, trying to steady themselves, but it didn’t work. Growing anxious, they slammed their head against something, trying to force their mind back.

Thunk! Thunk!

Trauma from a past experience surged back.

“It’s okay, it’s fine. It’s all fake, fake...”

Rubbing their head, Yeon-woo looked up with reddened eyes and took a deep breath. When they turned around—

“Ki-eeeek!”

They saw a [N O V E L I G H T] blood fiend chasing a fleeing teammate. Though the setting was different, it mirrored the day they awakened.

‘When they said deepest fear, I wondered what they’d show... so this is it.’

With a bitter laugh, as if defeated or insane, Yeon-woo slowly looked down at the bow in their hands. The same bow they’d first held at that career-experience theme park with their parents, the one they’d never let go of—until a few months ago.

‘Those TV bastards...’

Roy now understood why Roy hated the producers. This was too cruel.

“Ki-eeeek!”

“Kee-ik!”

Behind the first blood fiend chasing the teammate, two more fiends descended from the mountains. As the fiends multiplied, Yeon-woo realized they could no longer stand idly by. But—

‘Can I... do it?’

They had failed to save the seniors that day. No matter personal feelings, they believed no one deserved to die and wanted to save them. But they had failed, and after that, their memory...

Then a scene they’d never seen flashed through their mind: Roy leaping high, kicking down with the heel toward their head, shouting to snap them out of it.

Boom!

At that moment, as if struck, their consciousness cleared in a flash.