Chapter 15: The Fortuneteller’s Warning

“Don’t worry.

I’m not close with Lee Kwon.”

To be precise, none of the Juke members are on good terms with him.

According to Park Kang-hoon, all attention has to be on Lee Kwon, and if things don’t go his way, he gets arrogant and lashes out—exactly like what I’d experienced these past few days.

I found myself nodding instinctively as he talked.

“Everyone in the other classes has heard the rumors too.

Never thought he’d act like that even here.”

Letting out a deep sigh, Park Kang-hoon shook his head vigorously, then said we should drop the topic of Lee Kwon.

He began introducing me to the B-class trainees around him.

While I was greeting them one by one, Son Chae-i stepped onto the stage, and filming soon resumed.

“Everyone, are you satisfied with your new grades?”

There were quite a few who had moved up in rank like me, but many had dropped as well, and the atmosphere instantly dipped.

“Although today marks the end of the grade evaluations, there are still plenty of votes left from our viewers, so don’t be too discouraged.

We need to show them even better performances, right?”

Only then did the contestants respond in unison with a loud “Yes!” Son Chae-i flashed a satisfied grin and lifted the microphone again.

“Then I’ll tell you the reason you’ve all gathered here today.

Next week, all of you will be performing ‘Me and Me’ on the world-renowned music chart show Music Up & Down.”

The moment she finished speaking, the trainees erupted into thunderous cheers.

The program she mentioned, Music Up & Down, was a major music show aired by KMBS—the music-focused cable network producing Please Look After My Idol.

It was considered one of the major music broadcasts, and its international viewership was huge.

For anyone dreaming of becoming an idol, appearing on it was a coveted opportunity. “At this point, your position on stage will differ depending on your grade.

A-rank will be in the center, B-rank and C-rank will stand on the sides, D-rank will perform toward the back, and trainees with an F-rank, unfortunately, will only participate as backup dancers below the stage.”

D- and F-class contestants wore somber expressions.

They already knew this arrangement—Season 1 had used the same staging method—but now that it was confirmed their positions would fall where cameras could barely capture them, the disappointment seemed to hit much harder.

“And there’s still one very important thing left, right?”

As if trying to brighten the mood, Son Chae-i raised her tone.

“We still need to decide the centers.

After observing your practice today, the trainers and I will discuss and select the center trainee for each grade.

And of course, the A-rank center will become the overall center.”

The moment the word center came up, the trainees grew visibly excited, whispering to one another.

Son Chae-i laughed lightly and raised the mic once more.

“Then shall we begin practice right away?”

***

After returning home from the training camp, I collapsed flat on the floor the moment I walked in.

Thanks to my high stamina stat, I did get tired less easily than others, but that didn’t mean I was immune to pain.

My whole body throbbed and tingled from muscle aches brought on by movements I had never done in my life.

I debated just staying there, but my body—which had grown accustomed to fixed meal times—complained loudly of hunger, so I forced myself upright.

I put a pot of water on the stove, took a packet of ramen from the cupboard, and while it boiled, I opened My Idol Manager on my phone.

These last few days, I had devoted everything to practice; even when I did log in, all I managed to do was set my schedule or check my stat points.

It felt like time to finally look through the rest again.

Dding—

I had just finished cooking the ramen and was carrying the pot over to my desk when a notification chimed from the phone in my pocket.

I set the ramen down and checked the screen.

A picture of a person in a black cloak appeared, along with a message.

[A Wandering Fortuneteller has arrived at your home.]
[“…I shall divine the fate hidden beyond the moonlight.

Are you not curious about your future?”]
[A divination requires a fee of 30,000 won.]
[Receive the reading / Turn them away]

The Wandering Fortuneteller was an NPC similar to the Traveling Merchant—one that appeared randomly at your house in My Idol Manager.

They predicted your ending based on your stats, making them pretty useful in the late game.

But at this early stage, they were basically useless.

Considering my current bank balance, I definitely didn’t have money to spare for a fortune reading.

I was just about to tap “Turn them away” when—

“A fortune reading can reveal things about the ending…”

A thought flashed through my mind, and my finger froze.

I knew nothing about My Idol Manager right now—wouldn’t it be better to get even a small hint about the possible endings?

If I was lucky, I might even figure out a specific ending route and its conditions.

After thinking it over, I hesitated for a moment, then tapped “Receive the reading.”

The screen filled with intricate, tarot-like symbols swirling wildly before fading away.

The fortuneteller character spread both arms wide.

[“In your future… I see a single book.

A black-covered book, with its title engraved in silver foil.”]

Wait.

A black book with a silver-engraved title?

That sounded… awfully familiar…

A shiver ran down my whole body.

A few years ago, while researching for a class assignment, I had come across a master’s thesis—and it looked exactly like that.

A black cover with the title embossed in silver.

My current occupation?

A soon-to-be college freshman—one with high Intelligence and high Stamina stats, no less.

The perfect setup for a “Graduate Student Ending,” wasn’t it?

I shook my head violently at the thought, remembering the zombie-like grad students I’d seen during my seven years on campus.

No way.

I had to work even harder at My Idol Manager.

I renewed my determination on the spot.

[“…”]

[“…”]

[“…”]

As I scooped noodles onto the pot lid and slurped them down, the game kept showing the same message windows—just repeated lines of ellipses, like the NPC was silently hesitating.

What, a glitch?

I set down the lid and chopsticks and picked up my phone.

Almost as if the game had been waiting for that, a new message appeared.

[“There is a small star down below, but that one will take at least three more years….”]

[“…”]

[“For now, though, I see two big stars shining brightly on either side.”]

[“…”]

[“Both of them are excellent from top to bottom—you’ll be very satisfied, hee-hee-hee.”]

…What kind of nonsense was this?

[The Wandering Fortune teller has vanished like smoke.]

The fortune teller NPC had disappeared, leaving the game back on its normal screen.

They gave me only one line about the ending—some mysterious book I didn’t even recognize—and then wasted three whole lines talking about stars, big or small or whatever, in a way that I couldn’t decipher at all.

And they even left behind that weirdly suspicious, uncomfortable laugh.

Sigh… my precious thirty thousand won….

The weekend passed, and Monday morning arrived.

When I opened the game as usual and checked the schedule settings, I noticed a new category had appeared.

[University Classes]

I tapped it, and the list of lectures I had registered for during the course registration period a month ago popped up.

Since I would be stuck in My Idol Manager’s training camp until at least April of the first semester, I had crammed only the minimum required liberal arts courses onto Mondays and Fridays.

This whole world was built for becoming an idol anyway—college was just something I planned to keep up for appearances.

Periods 1–2: Understanding Language and Literature
Periods 3–4: Basic English Conversation
Period 5: Lunch
Periods 6–7: Ethics and Thought
Periods 8–9: Global Leadership

From 9 a.m. to 6 p.m., my schedule was jam-packed without a single gap.

As soon as classes ended, I headed straight to my part-time job.

After working until 9 p.m., the end of the in-game schedule, I visited the neighborhood karaoke that I used to frequent before training started.

The owner, whose face had grown familiar and strangely comforting, welcomed me warmly.

“Oh my, my handsome student is here!

I thought you weren’t coming anymore.”

“Something came up last week.

I’ll start coming often again.”

“Oh, good!

I should give you lots of extra service today.

Go to Room 8—the big one.”

She must have assumed I was practicing something, since I always came in to sing the same song over and over again, even dancing while doing it.

Before I knew it, she had begun assigning me the largest room and adding several times the amount of singing time I paid for.

I thanked her and picked up a new microphone cover before heading into Room 8.

Apparently she really meant it when she said she’d load me up with service—the session already had two hours on the timer from the start.

Just in case, I bowed toward the room’s CCTV, and in response, ten more minutes were added.

…Guess she was really watching.

Well, it must’ve been quite the spectacle—someone alone in a neighborhood karaoke room, singing a single song over and over again, even dancing to it.

I felt embarrassed for a moment, but whatever.

In just a few days, that same image of me would be broadcast on TV anyway.

If I thought of it as a preview for a future viewer, I could compose myself.

I picked up the remote.

“You’re heading out early today?

Get home safe.

You’ll come again?”

“Yes, thank you for today as well.

I’ll be back tomorrow.”

After wrapping up a thorough practice of “Me and Me,” the song that hadn’t yet been added to the karaoke system, I left the place.

I got home, washed up, lay in bed, closed my eyes—and when I opened them again, it was already the next morning.

Since I had intentionally kept this day free with no classes, I browsed through my in-game schedule and chose acting lessons for the first time.

Watching I-gwon during the last training camp had made me deeply, deeply aware of how important the Acting stat really was.

Following the directions sent by message, I arrived at the acting academy, where they handed me a script to perform as a kind of test.

And as soon as I read it aloud—

“…You definitely came to the right place.”