IMHTR 06

Chapter: 06

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Woo Hyuk-gyeom, who was wearing a flower crown given for winning the round, checked Yechan’s condition.

Yechan, who was also wearing a flower crown, smiled lifelessly.

The moment the quest window appeared, he had thought he absolutely couldn’t fail, and for a brief moment, superhuman strength had surged through him. But as soon as he put Woo Hyuk-gyeom down, all his strength drained away.

The worse news was that the next round wouldn’t form new teams—instead, multiple existing teams would be merged and play together.

So there’s no chance to show up in the behind-the-scenes footage.

Unlike Yechan, the hologram window looked extremely motivated—almost absurdly so.

<Chain Quest Triggered!>

Win first place in the “Body Language” game with Woo Hyuk-gyeom!

Win first place in the “Thigh Wrestling” game with Woo Hyuk-gyeom!

Win first place in the “Taste Master: Snack Guessing” game with Woo Hyuk-gyeom!

Win first place in the “Elephant Spin Dart Throwing” game with Woo Hyuk-gyeom!

“…Cut it out.”

* * *

“Good work, everyone. Now give a round of applause to trainee Ki Taerang, who worked as today’s MC!”

Clap clap clap.

The sound of applause filled the auditorium.

Ki Taerang politely bowed left and right with a friendly smile.

“Next, applause for today’s MVPs!”

Applause poured down on Yechan and Woo Hyuk-gyeom, who both wore five flower crowns each.

Yechan looked at Woo Hyuk-gyeom, who was waving solemnly, and thought:

Woo Hyuk-gyeom as MVP… this footage is definitely going straight to the trash.

Because of the quest system’s interference, Yechan and Woo Hyuk-gyeom had ended up sweeping every event, making them prime candidates for heavy editing in the final broadcast.

Mentally and physically exhausted, Yechan simply waved his hand diligently.

When they left the auditorium, the sun had already set long ago.

The filming had gone on way too long, even including meals in between.

“Yechan, Hyuk-gyeom! We’re using our meal voucher now, want to come?”

Nam Jiyu, wearing one flower crown, approached them with light, almost floating steps.

Since they ended up on the same team midway, she had started speaking casually even to Woo Hyuk-gyeom. Cameras behind her were focused on them.

Yechan smiled faintly.

“I’ll eat next time.”

He had no intention of appearing too close to Woo Hyuk-gyeom privately.

“What about Hyuk-gyeom?”

“I’m okay too.”

“Alright then! Rest well~”

It seemed like she had only casually asked. Nam Jiyu headed toward the cafeteria with a few trainees wearing flower crowns.

Several cameras followed them.

“…Should we go too?”

Woo Hyuk-gyeom nodded.

The long first day of the training camp had finally ended.

Or rather, Yechan thought it had ended.

[Attention trainees! Starting tomorrow, the official “Choose My Prince 99” theme song practice begins! We’ll show you the video just once, so watch carefully and get a good night’s sleep!]

Just as the trainees were about to fall asleep around midnight—

Small TVs in each room turned on by themselves, and immediately after the PD’s announcement, the theme song of CMP 99—“Choose your prince”—began playing.

“Choose your prince. I hope I’m at the end of the world you choose.”

Yechan, half-lying on his bed, glanced at the camera in the corner of the room.

The red light was on, but this scene wouldn’t be broadcast.

Sneaky.

In Yechan’s memory, theme song practice started in assigned practice rooms the next day after moving in, where trainees would watch choreography videos on tablets.

They watched once and immediately started practicing. Trainees with strong memory or talent quickly gained attention as “genius-type contestants” early on.

But that was actually taught months in advance.

It was a minor manipulation.

Some trainees had received the song beforehand from their agencies, allowing them to perfectly recreate it after just one viewing. This could easily spark controversy among others.

So they set up a safety net like this.

By airing the video the night before and allowing practice overnight, no one could complain.

If someone said a “genius” was actually just someone who practiced all night, it would just sound like jealousy toward hard work.

In fact, this issue had never surfaced in cycles where Yechan did not interfere.

While CMP 99 didn’t manipulate vote counts, it gave subtle advantages to companies that lobbied in other small ways.

Yechan, who had uncovered this through multiple resets, had eventually exposed it widely, contributing to CMP 99’s downfall.

Naturally, Jung Chanyang would also use the same knowledge Yechan had. He would need to prepare.

Then Yechan noticed three round backs.

His three roommates were sitting straight, watching the video seriously.

Now I’m more curious how those guys will practice.

In past cycles, all three had perfectly mastered the theme song from the beginning, so Yechan had assumed it was manipulation and investigated their agencies thoroughly—but found no proof.

For now, since they were on the same team, it was actually convenient.

Yechan got down from the bunk bed and looked at Ban Sehyuk’s profile, who was still sitting in front of the TV even after it ended.

Ban Sehyuk noticed his gaze and looked up.

When their eyes met, Yechan smiled gently.

“Should we go to the practice room?”

It was against Yechan’s pride for Ban Sehyuk—who would become part of his “fated team”—to perform worse than in previous cycles.

He knew the guy would do well on his own, but thought he’d do even better with guidance.

Ban Sehyuk, unaware of Yechan’s excitement about pushing him hard, smiled brightly.

“Sure.”

Naturally, Shin Sangrok and Woo Hyuk-gyeom followed them out.

At the practice room, already-arrived trainees greeted them.

“Wow, it’s Sangrok hyung!”

“Hello hyung!”

“Yeah, hi.”

The room was divided by grade, and all were S-rank trainees—but two of them immediately clung to Shin Sangrok.

Yechan clicked his tongue internally.

Even among S-ranks, Shin Sangrok was top-tier SSS-class, so admiration was understandable—but their obvious clinging was ugly.

“Hyung, want to practice with us? We already split the parts and memorized most of the song and choreography.”

“We can even let you join specially.”

They lowered their voices while glancing at Yechan—but it was still obvious.

You already memorized it after being given the materials in advance, you manipulated trainees.

Yechan almost laughed.

He didn’t think Shin Sangrok would join them.

As expected—

“No, I’ll practice with my roommates.”

He politely refused.

The two manipulative trainees returned to the others, disappointed.

“Should we stretch first?”

“Why didn’t you go?”

Yechan was curious despite knowing the future.

It wasn’t like they had any loyalty after just one day.

Shin Sangrok blinked.

“Is there a reason I should go?”

“They said they already memorized everything.”

“You guys did too, didn’t you?”

“Not everything.”

Ban Sehyuk smiled and joined in.

Woo Hyuk-gyeom remained expressionless.

“Even if they memorized it after one look, I just thought they were confident.”

That made sense if you didn’t know it was rigged.

Shin Sangrok lowered his voice after checking cameras were still being installed.

“Even if they had memorized it, I would’ve stayed with you guys anyway.”

He looked at Woo Hyuk-gyeom, Ban Sehyuk, and Yechan one by one.

“I’ve wanted to practice with you since the evaluation stage.”

Yechan revised his impression of him.

Weird guy.

Practice continued deep into the night.

Yechan finally understood how the roommates had perfectly mastered the theme song in previous cycles.

He didn’t even need to push them.

Ban Sehyuk and the others were rolling forward on their own.

Even then, they must have stayed up all night practicing like this.

Other S-rank trainees eventually left one by one, except one who refused to join others.

Shin Sangrok even suggested practicing together, but was firmly rejected.

“I work better alone.”

“Should we sleep soon?”

There were less than two hours until wake-up time.

Yechan nodded and spoke to the remaining trainee.

“Hyung Haesol, you should go to sleep.”

Trainee Kang Haesol turned around.

His youthful face looked unfamiliar.

“You guys go. I’ll sleep later.”

“You’ll still have filming tomorrow. You should rest a bit.”

Cameras were still rolling in the corner.

Yechan smiled kindly.

When he insisted again, Haesol frowned.

“I’ll sleep after practicing more.”

“You won’t be able to. You don’t have a door key.”

“….”

The others probably weren’t considerate enough to leave the key.

And Haesol didn’t seem like the type to bang on the door and wake everyone up at this hour.

“Sleep in our room tonight.”

Haesol reluctantly nodded.

Satisfied, Yechan turned back to his roommates.

“Is that okay?”

He already knew the answer.

“Of course. Haesol, I’ll lend you clothes.”

As expected, Shin Sangrok answered first. The others nodded too.

* * *

“Alright, I’ll give you the tablets with yesterday’s video! Practice freely, and when you feel ready, record in the booth on the second floor.”

A writer explained in the practice room the next morning.

“That recording will determine your position for the theme song center and stage. Deadline is 9 PM tonight! Good luck!”

The second day of the camp had begun.

Shin Sangrok, holding the tablet, looked awkwardly at the S-rank trainees.

He seemed shocked at the PD’s trick.

“Should we watch the video first?”

They all sat in a circle, rewatching the theme song they had practiced overnight, then spaced out again to rehearse.

As always, this S-rank group was filled with both manufactured geniuses and real geniuses.

Of course, there would be no room for mediocre talents this time.

I’ll show them there are levels even among geniuses.

Yechan, the “manufactured genius” who had heard this song more than its own composer in this world, smiled faintly.