Chapter 96

Chapter 96

Raise Three Idols Well And They’ll Launch a Confession Attack.

Episode 96: Self-proclaimed Egoist.

Oh Yoori called herself an egoist, and she had lived a life that suited that title.

Rather than getting involved in other people’s affairs, she focused on her own matters, and if she had the energy to spare for others, she invested it in her own growth.

This was a very simple calculation.

It was far more efficient to invest in her own development than to build relationships to improve her standing, so she invested in herself.

This was the way she lived her life, her formula.

Of course, improving her standing wasn’t the only reason.

Oh Yoori learned very early in her short life that living this way allowed her to lead a less exhausting life.

…In fact, this was the main reason, even more than improving her standing.

Whatever the reason, she followed this one formula meticulously, even at a young age.

As a result, she excelled in many areas, such as math, reasoning, language, memorization, and the arts.

In some areas, she showed not just excellence but superiority.

Oh Yoori had talent. And she had the mental fortitude to fully blossom that talent.

Knowing better than anyone about the two weapons she possessed, she had the will to use them. And after a certain event, she judged that the field of idols was worth challenging, so she began to invest in effort.

She entered Flower Entertainment, which was actively recruiting trainees to expand its roster, and she proved her excellence there, successfully placing herself among the top ranks.

So much so that she received an invitation to participate in Girl 100, of which Flower Entertainment only had one ticket.

Despite achieving significant results in a short time after starting her investment, Oh Yoori didn’t act rashly.

She knew she could develop further, so she calmly and naturally made the maximum effort she could each day, as if it was as routine as eating and sleeping.

Just because someone can do something doesn’t mean everyone will.

But Oh Yoori was someone who could act just because she could.

For someone like her, success was perhaps inevitable.

“Seriously, if only the other girls could follow your example, Yoori. You’re the only one who’s mature. And you’re the youngest, too.”

“No, the older girls are all working hard too.”

“Ha, working hard? Everyone except you just pretends to try… Well, I’ll admit that Eun-byeol is actually putting in effort, but the entertainment industry isn’t a place where effort alone gets you anywhere. Who knows when the boss will finally kick her out? Honestly, she’s a waste of resources.”

“…”

But there was someone who caught her attention.

A girl named Seo Eun-byeol, who, despite being 20 years old, hadn’t debuted or even made it into a debut team.

At that age, she was practically considered a dead-end trainee.

She was certainly pretty enough to be called beautiful, giving her the basic competitiveness to challenge the entertainment industry. But despite being a trainee aspiring to be an idol, she couldn’t dance. And she couldn’t sing. Even lowering the difficulty of post-production and choreography wasn’t enough to hide her lack of skill.

It was a fatal flaw for someone dreaming of a career as an idol.

Seo Eun-byeol was very well-known within Flower Entertainment.

Of course, in a negative way.

“Long-term trainee,” “dunce,” “nuisance,” “deadweight”—these were the names associated with Seo Eun-byeol among Flower Entertainment’s trainees and staff.

Oh Yoori found it hard to understand why she stayed at Flower Entertainment despite enduring such insults.

If those insults were simply untrue, and she was actually building her skills through her time at the agency, then Yoori could understand her enduring them.

But the others’ assessments weren’t false. Seo Eun-byeol truly had no talent.

After all, the only person who kept up with Yoori’s grueling training schedule, which others saw as excessively harsh, was Eun-byeol.

Despite her effort, the lack of progress could only be explained by a lack of talent.

There was no way Eun-byeol herself didn’t realize this.

That was why Yoori found her even harder to understand.

Eun-byeol must have known she lacked talent, so why did she stay and waste her time? Yoori just couldn’t figure her out.

“Yoori-Yoori! Where are you going?”

“…”

“Are you staying to practice dance basics again? I’ll join you!”

Seo Eun-byeol continued to approach her.

Her intentions were obvious. Yoori had seen it too many times before.

Oh Yoori knew that type of person very well.

The type that hovered around successful people, hoping to catch some crumbs, like a hyena.

The type of person Yoori considered inefficient—those who invested in others instead of themselves.

She disliked that type of person.

She didn’t mind if someone made inefficient choices and wasted their time on their own. But those people didn’t stop there.

They would offer unwanted favors, assign excessive value to them, and then demand the same in return from Yoori.

If Yoori didn’t reciprocate, they would be disappointed and slander or resent her. She had no say in the matter.

It was almost like coercion.

However, if Seo Eun-byeol had any authority or backing that could positively influence Yoori, she might have considered showing minimal sociability.

But she was nothing more than a halfwit, lacking even that.

So Yoori ignored her when Eun-byeol suggested they train together, asked about her hobbies, or offered snacks. She didn’t want to waste her time or mental energy on her.

“Yoori-Yoori! Let’s go together!”

“…”

Yet, Eun-byeol kept clinging to her, whether she was oblivious or just pretending to be. Yoori thought she’d eventually give up if she kept ignoring her, but it seemed she was wrong.

Yoori half gave up and just let Eun-byeol tag along.

Then, one day…

“Isn’t that Yoori girl just so stuck-up?”

As she was about to leave the dressing room after changing, she overheard a conversation about her from the dressing room outside.

“She acts like she’s working so hard, sucking up to the managers and team leaders, pretending like all her achievements are due to her talent.”

“…She does seem to draw a line with the other trainees.”

“That’s because she has a superiority complex. But from what I see, all those accolades she’s bragging about, she got them by other means.”

“Other means?”

“You know, I can’t say it because it’s too dirty, but…”

It was a low, nasty thing to say, but she was used to it. Every time she proved her abilities, similar words would follow, even if the form was slightly different.

It was a defensive mechanism of losers who couldn’t admit their shortcomings and instead shifted the blame to others.

It was something she had no need to pay attention to.

But there was someone who didn’t see it that way.

“If you have something to say, say it to her face. Don’t talk behind her back so sneakily.”

It was Seo Eun-byeol, who had been stretching in the corner.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit pathetic?”

Kim Hanbi, the trainee who was called out, didn’t hide her displeasure and raised her voice.

“Ha, so Yoori’s little lackey is here? Aren’t you ashamed to be clinging to a kid at your age?”

“At least I’m living less shamefully than you, making up lies behind her back.”

“Wow, the long-term trainee has some pride, huh? Haha, isn’t that funny, girls?”

Seo Eun-byeol looked at Kim Hanbi, who was seeking approval from the other trainees, with disdain and said,

“Hanbi, do you think the girls agreeing with you really share your thoughts? No, they’re just pretending to agree because they don’t want you to bother them.”

Seo Eun-byeol gave her a smirk that reeked of disdain and said,

“And then behind your back, they’ll say, ‘Hanbi is really jealous,’ and ‘Yeah, dealing with her is such a pain.’”

“…You bitch.”

When they started pulling each other’s hair, the manager, who heard the commotion, quickly stepped in to break it up.

It was just one of those annual events that happened when you put a bunch of prideful trainees together.

There weren’t any major changes after that incident.

But it did bring a small change to Oh Yoori.

Oh Yoori saw Seo Eun-byeol’s actions as a formality to get on her good side.

It seemed that Seo Eun-byeol wanted to invest more value in Yoori than she had anticipated.

Even though Yoori had shown no reaction to Eun-byeol’s kind words.

To Yoori, it was a very foolish investment.

Because she had no intention of reciprocating.

“Yoori-Yoori, good morning again today!”

“…Good morning.”

“…?”

But she thought, ‘Maybe I should at least respond to her greetings from now on.’

That was the reason behind her slight change of heart.

“Yoori accepted my greeting? Kyaa!”

Seeing her overreact made Yoori regret it a little.

“Thank you! Let’s do our best today, Yoori!”

“…”

But soon, she thought that this kind of whim wasn’t so bad once in a while.

And, as time passed, just when Seo Eun-byeol’s presence by her side started to feel natural, Oh Yoori learned that Eun-byeol was being asked to provide entertainment services.