[Hero! Right now, your position is that of a Hunter Idol trainee. A proper greeting is essential! At this rate, you’re going to need another etiquette lesson tonight…]
Roy let out a sigh and brushed his hand behind his neck.
“Hello. I’m Hwang Roy.”
“Oh? You have the same last name as the CEO!”
“Right? I thought that was interesting too when I first heard it.”
Last night, Roy had crammed a crash course on Korean etiquette from Earth before going to sleep.
He had no idea why Earth gave him the surname “Hwang,” but it ended up being the same as Hwang Guman’s.
Roy had no surname back on the continent of As.
It still felt strange having an unfamiliar family name attached to his own in this unfamiliar world.
He was supposed to receive a surname from Kairus at the victory ceremony.
If Kairus hadn’t betrayed him, Roy would’ve received a middle name and a last name like any noble.
“For now, let’s see what you’ve got. I heard Roy needs to record an audition video right away.”
“That’s right. Please take good care of him.”
Jung Hojun organized the situation.
He sat with Kim Jungah on either side of Hwang Guman, who took the center seat.
“Chan, you want to go first? Just pick the songs you’re most confident in, both for singing and dancing. Tell me what you want to perform and I’ll play the MR. If we don’t have it, I’ll play the accompaniment myself.”
At Kim Jungah’s words, Kim Chan nodded firmly.
He’d participated in more auditions than he could count on two hands.
This wasn’t even an audition to get into an agency—it was just a skills test. Still, it was nerve-wracking all the same.
Even Hwang Guman, who always wore a kind expression, now had a sharp look in his eyes as he watched Kim Chan closely.
“I’ll sing ‘Love You’ by Test and dance to ‘Running’ by Five.”
“Oh, those are both pretty challenging songs. Are you sure?”
“Yes!”
He’d sung and danced to them hundreds of times.
If there was one thing he was confident in, it was those two.
Kim Jungah played the MR. Soon, a clear and steady voice echoed through the practice room.
Roy, who had moved to the wall so as not to get in the way, raised an eyebrow slightly.
Roy didn’t know much about singing, but even he could tell there was nothing to criticize in Kim Chan’s performance.
In fact, the higher the notes climbed, the more powerful the emotion in Kim Chan’s voice became.
Even Roy, who didn’t fully understand the lyrics, felt a pang in his chest.
“There’s a reason he’s famous among the trainees.”
“Right?”
“His face looks good on camera too. He’s even better in person.”
Jung Hojun had taken out a camera and began filming Kim Chan’s performance.
Noticing the camera, Kim Chan’s face turned slightly red.
“His pitch is stable, and his emotional delivery is excellent. With this level of skill, he could be a main vocalist in a group.”
At Kim Jungah’s praise, Kim Chan’s face turned even redder.
“His singing is more than good enough. President, shall we see his dancing now?”
“Of course. Chan, are you ready?”
“Yes!”
Jung Hojun played the intro of the dance track Kim Chan had requested.
A fast beat filled the practice room, loud enough to make the floor vibrate.
Squeak. Squeak.
The rubber soles of Kim Chan’s shoes squeaked against the practice room floor.
That’s how powerful his movements were.
‘How can a person move like that?’
Roy’s eyes followed Kim Chan’s every move.
It was different from swordsmanship.
At a glance, swordsmanship could look like dancing, but every motion in it was designed to strike the opponent effectively.
In contrast, the dance Kim Chan performed seemed carefully crafted to make the dancer look cool through specific movements of the arms, legs, and body.
It reminded Roy of the dances his mother used to perform, though this one was much more intense and full of energy.
“Haah, haah…”
“His dancing’s not bad either. It’s a pretty tough routine, but he didn’t miss a single beat. He’s probably not ready to dance live while singing just yet, though.”
“Chan, good job.”
Even Jung Hojun, who had been spinning a pen between his fingers with a sharp gaze, gave him praise.
With trembling lips, Kim Chan bowed deeply toward the three of them.
“Thank you!”
At his previous company, every evaluation felt like walking on a frozen lake.
Even when he did well, no one ever said so.
But if he slipped up even once, he’d be hit with sharp, cutting remarks.
Now that the tension was gone, Kim Chan’s legs began to shake as he approached Roy.
“Hyung, good luck.”
Kim Chan raised both hands toward Roy in encouragement.
Roy could clearly feel his sincerity and gave him a nod in return.
“Yeah.”
Roy stepped past Kim Chan and walked to the exact spot he’d just performed in.
He didn’t shrink back, even with three pairs of eyes fixed on him.
“I heard this is your first time as a trainee, but you don’t seem nervous at all.”
“At the very least, he’s got nerves of steel.”
“Hahaha. Roy, just sing whatever you’re comfortable with.”
Kim Jungah and Jung Hojun looked toward Hwang Guman, who laughed heartily.
He had worried Roy might be nervous, but thankfully, he wasn’t.
“I do have one song and one dance I know.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes.”
“What’s the title?”
“It doesn’t have one.”
“Then… acapella?”
“Yes.”
He had fallen into this world just yesterday.
If it hadn’t been for the message window, Roy would’ve hesitated before deciding to become a Hunter Idol.
After skimming through Earth’s guidebook, he had a rough idea of what a Hunter Idol was supposed to be.
But that alone didn’t mean Roy could perform dazzling songs and dances like Kim Chan.
A pitch-black camera zoomed in on Roy’s face.
“He looks good on screen. It’s a shame the vibe he gives off isn’t fully captured.”
“Yeah, his visuals definitely give off center material, boss.”
Hwang Guman nodded as he watched Roy’s face appear on the monitor.
His eye for talent wasn’t wrong, after all.
“Shall we start the song?”
“Oh, sure.”
Roy now had all three of their full attention.
He had once delivered speeches to thousands, even tens of thousands, to rally their spirits.
He wasn’t nervous.
But it was still unfamiliar—singing in front of others like this.
“A hum?”
A soft melody flowed from Roy’s lips.
It was a tune without lyrics.
Roy closed his eyes and drew out a fragment of memory.
The song he was humming now was one his mother used to sing while holding him as a child.
His master once told him, after hearing Roy sing that tune, that perhaps Roy’s mother had belonged to one of the northern minority tribes.
A people known as Art, famous for their love of dance and song.
“His voice is… really…”
Kim Jungah couldn’t finish her sentence, her gaze fixed on Roy.
The melody he was humming was unlike anything she’d ever heard.
It felt like the sea breeze at a coastal cliff or the snow resting on a mountaintop.
The melody, like a slice of nature itself, blended with Roy’s clear and pure voice, creating a mysterious atmosphere.
“I can’t even tell if it’s on key or beat… but the voice is incredible.”
It sounded like the voice of a young boy who hadn’t gone through puberty yet.
Roy’s singing evoked the image of untouched, pristine snowfields—white, silent, and breathtaking.
***
When the song ended, Roy opened his eyes and looked at the three of them.
He assumed it hadn’t gone too badly, judging by the faint smile spreading across Hwang Guman’s face.
Guman was even more satisfied by how Roy had adjusted his manner of speaking in just one day.
While it didn’t bother him personally when Roy spoke informally, doing so with others would surely spark controversy about Roy’s character.
“Do you have any dances prepared?”
“I’ll need something like a long stick.”
In response to Jung Hojun’s question, Roy made a gesture, as if describing a longsword.
“A stick? Would this work?”
“Yes.”
Kim Jungah stretched out what looked like a pen.
It extended into a sleek black staff, slightly shorter than Roy’s upper body.
Roy took the staff and gave it a few swings.
The slicing sound of air was louder than expected, causing all three of them to flinch.
Even though the stick had a blunt end, it suddenly felt like Roy was wielding a sharp blade.
‘Seriously, Roy. I told you to learn proper swordsmanship, didn’t I?’
A voice echoed clearly in his ears—Heis’s voice.
Roy lifted the corners of his mouth in a faint smile.
‘You really never know where life will take you, huh?’
Instead of a dance, Roy had decided to show them the Heis Sword Style.
This was a sword technique created by Heis, known for its graceful, flowing movements—like petals caught in the wind.
Despite its seemingly gentle appearance, whenever Heis wielded it, the blade would end up soaked with the blood of countless foes.
Roy still remembered the dances he used to perform with his mother.
But they were designed to highlight the curves of a woman’s body—an elegance he couldn’t hope to replicate faithfully.
“I’ll begin.”
As soon as Hwang Guman nodded, Roy brought the stick in his right hand to rest by his left hip.
Whiiish—!
“Gah…!”
“Sir…?”
“I-it just startled me, that’s all…”
When Roy swung the staff, Guman felt as if it was about to pierce straight through his eye.
He actually flinched in shock.
Kim Jungah quickly grabbed his arm to calm him.
‘That wasn’t normal… There was killing intent.’
Kim Jungah and Jung Hojun weren’t Awakened Hunters.
They only sensed a sharpness in Roy’s movements.
But Guman felt a chill run down his neck.
‘Why would a Spirit Summoner exude that kind of bloodlust?’
Even more baffling was the fact that Roy’s level was still zero.
Yet his sword movements were as smooth and precise as those of a seasoned warrior.
“That was… really unique.”
Jung Hojun’s expression mirrored Kim Jungah’s earlier one during Roy’s song—a mix of awe and confusion.
It wasn’t a typical dance.
At first, they couldn’t even tell what Roy was doing.
But as they watched longer, it became clear that Roy was wielding the stick like a sword—showcasing swordsmanship.
He leapt lightly into the air and spun half a turn, his movements flowing seamlessly.
Whoosh. Whiiish. Swish.
“So cool…”
Unlike the others, who were still trying to process what they were seeing, Kim Chan’s eyes glazed over in a daze.