Jaemin quickly gathered an assortment of snacks—sandwiches, cookies, pudding—everything was well-prepared.
“I brought a bit of everything, so just eat whatever you feel like. I’ll go get more if it’s not enough.”
Roy also picked up a sandwich and took a bite.
The crunch of fresh lettuce, the savory ham, and the creamy cheese spread across his mouth in perfect harmony.
The taste provided a bit of comfort to his tired body and mind.
“Roy hyung, have some juice too.”
“Thanks.”
By the time they were nearly done eating the snacks they had brought, the staff began dividing the participants into groups.
“Participants who passed, please return to your accommodations!”
Those who were placed on hold gathered beneath the stage in a line, their expressions dark and heavy.
‘…Thinking about sleeping in a sleeping bag again is so depressing.’
“Want me to bring a blanket from the room? If you lay it on top of the sleeping bag, it might feel a bit better.”
Hearing Jaemin’s gloomy voice, Chan threw his arm around his shoulder and recalled the extra blanket in their room.
“No, it’s okay. My back aches a bit, but… at least it’s warm. They made sure to give each tent a heating artifact.”
It was a thoughtful arrangement by the production team to prevent participants from catching colds.
As Chan looked at Jaemin with a sympathetic expression, Roy wondered whether he would be able to sleep peacefully tonight.
Roy opened his eyes and let out a deep sigh.
When he checked the time, it was 3 a.m.
A thunderous snore rattled his ears, and eventually, he gave up on trying to sleep and got out of bed.
[Hero! Are you going outside?]
‘Yeah.’
Until now, he’d been too exhausted to even notice the snoring.
But tonight, maybe because he wasn’t as tired, he just couldn’t fall asleep.
When Roy quietly slipped out of bed and went downstairs, he saw Ji Hyunwoo and Yoo Juwon sleeping with frowns on their faces.
Thankfully, Sunwoo and Ji Hyunwoo hadn’t gotten into a fight today.
‘Well, we have to be up by 6 anyway. Might as well warm up my voice.’
Today was finally the day—the theme song mission would be performed live for the public.
They had rehearsed it hundreds of times leading up to this.
Even utilizing Earth’s virtual training programs.
‘Status window.’
[Hwang Roy (22) | Singing: A- | Dance: B+ | Acting: D- | Lyric Writing: F+ | Composition: F+]
‘…I could cry.’
The production team must have thought the live stage needed to be perfect, because they gave the participants more practice time than expected.
Despite the strict nature of the theme song mission, they’d been unusually generous with rehearsals.
The trainers, too, had been intense—like they were out for blood.
As a result, the participants, including Roy, had their mental endurance tested hard, but the performance quality improved rapidly.
At last, one of his abilities had reached an A grade.
It was the result of prioritizing singing over dancing.
‘At least I won’t be the worst up there now.’
The top-tier contestants all had abilities that were at least A+ to S-grade.
From what Roy had observed, the best singer among them was likely Chan, and he was probably at S+.
Raising a stat from B to A required a lot of points.
Climbing from A to S? That was on another level.
***
“Ber, are you feeling okay?”
While staring at his status window, lost in thought, Roy glanced down at the egg in his hands.
Something was poking out of it.
He looked around, then walked over to a chair in the hallway and sat down.
As he gently stroked the egg in his palm, the poking intensified.
Crack—
[Looks like Ber is trying to come out again!]
The excited voice of Earth rang in his head.
Roy couldn’t even blink—he was frozen, staring at the egg.
His heart pounded harder than it had when he first met Ber in this world.
“Piiii-!” (Ugh, I thought I was gonna suffocate in there!)
“Ber!”
Unlike a newborn chick, Ber let out a loud cry.
Hearing his voice in Roy’s head, Roy hugged him tightly.
His eyes started to tear up, and he quickly blinked to hold them back.
He brushed away the cracked eggshell pieces, and Ber shook himself off.
“Pii.” (Contractor, your eyes are red.)
“…Just pretend you didn’t see.”
[I missed you too, Lord Ber!]
As Earth and Ber chatted in Roy’s head, he gently stroked Ber’s head.
“Come to think of it, you look a little bigger now.”
“Pii.” (I can use more magic now.)
Maybe it was because he had returned from a near-death slumber, but Ber had grown larger and his abilities had improved.
[It’s due to the phoenix trait!]
“Care to explain that in detail?”
[…No. I can’t tell you yet.]
He had expected that answer.
Nothing that had happened to Roy so far was normal.
If you get stabbed in the heart with a sword, you’re supposed to die.
But instead, he woke up on this planet called Earth, and met a being named Earth.
Rather than demanding more answers, Roy chose to focus on his training.
He needed to regain his old powers as quickly as possible, restore his master’s keepsake, and return to the continent of As.
“Live broadcast? I still can’t believe it…”
Kim Chan kept glancing around nervously.
There were people rushing about with staff badges, and even celebrities they had seen on TV.
“Wait, are those guys… Highcycle?”
Lee Hajun’s eyes widened.
Highcycle was a hunter idol group under Sinaré Entertainment, operated by the number one hunter guild in South Korea, Sinaré.
Since their debut, they had swept that year’s rookie awards and grand prizes.
Among all male hunter idol groups, they enjoyed overwhelming popularity.
Even amidst the hustle and bustle, Highcycle stood out with a noticeably relaxed aura.
Each of them was holding a cup, chatting casually—some even doubled over in laughter, as if the conversation was particularly entertaining.
“We’re going to be on the same stage with them today… But aren’t they walking this way?”
Han Jihoo had been watching them with curiosity when he suddenly realized that two members of Highcycle were getting closer and closer.
“It’s the broom guy!”
The one who spoke first had a massive build that contrasted his cute features.
He looked more like a boy than a young man, and his blonde hair fluttered lightly as he moved.
“No way… That’s Yoojairi…”
Kim Chan’s jaw dropped as he recognized him.
He had watched Yoojairi’s videos hundreds of times.
For any aspiring hunter idol trainee, Yoojairi was a celebrity they dreamed of meeting at least once.
Yoojairi, the main dancer of Highcycle, also had a booming voice.
His powerful voice echoed through the space, drawing everyone’s attention toward Roy.
Roy was still trying to figure out how to respond to someone so openly rude on their first meeting when Lee Doha stepped in front of him, bowing politely.
“Hello. I’m a big fan.”
His expression didn’t quite match his words.
Just moments ago, his eyes had still been heavy with sleep, but now they were wide open—though not with excitement or admiration.
“It’s nice to meet you. I’ve been enjoying your program.”
“Senior Kim Taejin, it’s an honor.”
The awkward situation was defused by the approach of Kim Taejin, Highcycle’s leader and a handsome man with black hair.
He stood beside Yoojairi and offered Lee Doha a warm smile and a handshake.
Lee Doha respectfully shook his hand.
“As you know, we also debuted through a survival program. So I naturally have a lot of interest in them, and ‘Dear Hunter’ has been getting great reviews lately.”
“Oh, really?”
In truth, the participants hadn’t fully grasped how popular the show had become.
Ever since their return to the island after their vacation, they’d been busy with nonstop missions and filming.
Since personal phones weren’t allowed on the island, they had no way of feeling how heated things were getting in the industry outside.
“Yes. Everyone I meet these days says they’ve been enjoying ‘Dear Hunter.’ Of course, that includes us. Jaeri is a big fan of Hwang Roy, so he may have said something inappropriate. Please allow me to apologize on his behalf.”
Before anyone could react, Kim Taejin bowed his head toward Roy, who was standing behind Lee Doha.
It was a move that could easily become a hot topic if caught on camera.
Roy quickly stepped out from behind Lee Doha and bowed to Kim Taejin in return.
Partly because of the cameras, but also because Taejin had apologized first, it naturally dispelled Roy’s earlier irritation.
“You’re going up for your first live performance today, right? I’ll be cheering you on.”
“Thank you.”
Kim Taejin was almost suspiciously kind.
For someone who hadn’t even debuted yet, his treatment was borderline overly respectful.
“I got carried away after watching your video. I’ll greet you properly with a smile next time.”
Yoojairi followed Taejin’s lead and offered what was more or less an apology to Roy before walking off.
The group’s main rapper, Han Honghyun, had come to fetch them.
***
As Highcycle quickly disappeared into the crowd, those who remained behind looked on with admiration in their eyes.
“To get to that level… you probably need to be kind and humble too, huh.”
“Yeah, no kidding. Kim Taejin has a reputation for being incredibly nice, even online. Now I see why.”
As Lee Hajun and Kim Chan whispered in amazement, Roy couldn’t take his eyes off the group that was walking away.
‘Goosebumps…’
Other than Kim Hanbom, they were the strongest people Roy had met since coming here.
Yoojairi and Han Honghyun also gave off an extraordinary vibe, but in Roy’s eyes, Kim Taejin was clearly the strongest of the three.
Even though Taejin seemed to have reined in his presence, it still subtly leaked out—and for a brief moment, Roy felt like he couldn’t breathe.
He discreetly clenched his trembling fingertips into his fist.
He was the type to get fired up by strong opponents.
“Those guys… they’re insanely strong.”
When Roy muttered under his breath, Kim Chan’s eyes went wide again.
His heart was still pounding like he’d just run a marathon after meeting Highcycle.
“Of course they’re strong! Highcycle isn’t just top-tier among hunter idols—they’re world-class hunters, period!”
“Seriously?”
“Gasp—Hyung, don’t go around saying stuff like that! Even regular civilians are fans of Highcycle for a reason. All the members are already averaging level 300! And it’s only been two years since they debuted!”
Roy paused, thinking about his own level for a moment.
Three hundred was a number that felt impossibly far away.
No wonder he’d been overwhelmed for a moment.