Chapter 9: …Potions?

When I tried to remember whether “Take Care of My Son” had something like this, I recalled that it did have a “closeness” system.

Depending on the player’s choices, the level of closeness between the main character—the son—and the young man next door who looked after him would change.

If the closeness became too low, events like the son running away from home could happen.

However, it was something the player managed knowingly; it wasn’t displayed openly like the current “affection gauge”.

But if it’s important enough to be shown numerically and capable of affecting in-game events like “closeness”…

“No way?”

Could this affection gauge actually influence whether a participant debuts in the game?

For example, what if eight of the final nine debut members were already predetermined, and a higher affection score increased the likelihood of debut?

It was my own speculation, but it sounded surprisingly plausible.

It also explained why the compendium only listed participants and not Son Chae-yi or the trainers.

Ding—

At that moment, another alert popped up.

[A Wandering Peddler has come to your home.]

[“Come take a look~!

A once-in-a-lifetime chance!

Only rare and unusual items you won’t find anywhere else!

Come choose, choose~!”]

[View items / Kick out]

A wandering peddler—an NPC who also appeared in Take Care of My Son.

They sold expensive but essential items needed for specific endings.

And since players could never track them down deliberately, you had to seize the opportunity whenever they appeared.

So this time as well, I quickly selected “View items.”

[Silver Nightingale’s Potion]
[Black Swan’s Potion]
[Golden Woodpecker’s Potion]
[Aquamarine Parrot’s Potion]
[Rainbow Peacock Feather]
[Ash-grey Flamingo Feather]
[???]

None of these existed in “Take Care of My Son.” They were all items I’d never seen before.

They were probably related to idol-related stats.

But what the hell was with the triple question marks?

Curious, I tapped on the one labeled “???” first.

[???]
[Effect: Chest circumference +1 inch | Price: 300,000 won]
[Buy / Don’t buy]

…What the hell.

It was marked with question marks, so I got my hopes up thinking it would be some incredible item, but increasing chest circumference?

That was so absurd that I actually felt drained.

I’m raising a son so he can debut as an idol—what am I supposed to do with a bigger chest size?

If you’re going to increase something, raise his height or muscle mass instead… And on top of that, it was ridiculously expensive.

“Who would buy that?” I muttered as I chose “Don’t buy.” The list of items reappeared, and I started checking them one by one from the first item, Silver Nightingale’s Potion.

[Silver Nightingale’s Potion]
[Effect: Vocal Points +50 | Price: 100,000 won]

[Black Swan’s Potion]
[Effect: Dance Points +50 | Price: 100,000 won]

[Golden Woodpecker’s Potion]
[Effect: Rap Points +50 | Price: 100,000 won]

[Aquamarine Parrot’s Potion]
[Effect: Acting Points +50 | Price: 100,000 won]

[Rainbow Peacock Feather]
[Effect: Charm Points +50 | Price: 100,000 won]

[Ash-grey Flamingo Feather]
[Effect: Random Hidden Stat Points +25 | Price: 100,000 won]

Wait—items that raise stats by 25 to 50 points cost 100,000 won, but the one that increases chest circumference by one inch costs 300,000 won?

Was it secretly some incredibly important item?

After checking through all the items, I found myself hesitating.

Was there some future event where having a bigger chest would give an advantage?

I seriously mulled it over for a while before shaking my head.

Gambling on a vague possibility wasn’t worth 300,000 won.

Instead of buying “???,” it made far more sense to buy three items that actually increased stats.

I currently had 830,950 won.

Just in case something unexpected happened later, I decided to keep half of it and boldly invest 400,000 won.

First of all, rap was out.

Just remembering the harsh criticism from a few hours ago—and the way the rap trainers’ faces had crumpled like they’d heard something unforgivable—made me want to sink into the ground.

There would be no rap in my future.

No, there must not be.

Since I’d abandoned the Golden Woodpecker’s Potion, that left five items.

Vocals and dance were absolute necessities, so I tapped the Nightingale-something and Swan-something items and purchased them.

It seemed each item could only be bought once; the two I’d purchased disappeared from the list immediately.

Now I had to drop one among Acting, Charm, and Random Hidden Stats…

“Hey, Han-ul.”

“Yes?”

“What do you think is more important for an idol—charm or acting?”

It was a stupid question, considering charm and acting weren’t exactly comparable categories, but Cha Han-ul took it surprisingly seriously.

He thought for a moment, then said, “Probably charm?” before lowering his voice.

“I mean, this might sound a bit rude, but there are seniors who aren’t particularly strong in visuals or skills, but their popularity is huge, right?

Isn’t that because they’re charming?”

I figured as much and nodded in agreement.

But Han-ul tilted his head with a troubled look.

“But then again… I feel like good acting is part of being charming too.”

“Oh, like being cast in a charming role?”

“Not exactly.

More like… facial expressions on stage.

You know, ending fairies, close-up fancams that go viral—those things.”

Winking every three seconds, biting your lower lip, licking your lips with your tongue…
So all of that counted as “acting.” As someone who didn’t know the first thing about idols, it wasn’t something I would’ve ever considered.

“Thanks, man.”

“Aww, no.

I’m just glad it helped you, hyung.”

Cha Han-ul’s opinion helped a lot.

The problem was, it didn’t give me a clear answer about which stat I should actually invest in.

If anything, it made the decision harder.

A stat I’d barely thought about—acting—had suddenly become one of the important ones.

And the hidden stat… I didn’t know what type of stat it even was, much less how to increase it, which only made everything more confusing.

I agonized over the choices the entire ride to the dorms, and only when the bus was about to stop did I finally go, “Ah, screw it,” and bought Rainbow Peacock Feather and Ashen Flamingo Feather.

Acting could be improved through training like vocals or dance, but charm and the hidden stat had no clear way to grind them, so that’s how I justified my decision.

Even so, as I stared at my phone, I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of regret over the Water-Blue Parrot Potion I hadn’t bought.

While I was still staring at the screen, Han-ul tapped my shoulder.

“Hyung, aren’t you getting off?”

“Oh—yeah… I’m getting off.”

I finally closed the game and stood up, but the blue-colored potion kept lingering in my mind’s eye.

Maybe I should’ve just bought it even if it meant overspending… A wave of belated regret washed over me.

The dorm was made up of two buildings.

One was the residential building, with the participants’ rooms, communal showers, and cafeteria.

The other housed a large auditorium and training rooms.

When we reached the dorm building, five colors of training outfits were laid out in the first-floor lobby, sorted by size.

Everyone picked the color that matched the grade they’d received from the agency evaluation, then headed to their assigned rooms.

Each room was shared by six trainees of the same grade.

This time, I was separated from Cha Han-ul and assigned to a different room.

Han-ul made a devastated face, whining “Hyeoong…” but after listening to his nonstop chatter all day, I simply patted his shoulder lightly and went into my own room.

I greeted the trainees who’d arrived before me, then hurried to change out of my clothes into the yellow training uniform.

The next schedule was dinner, so there was no time to waste.

I changed as fast as I could and stepped out of the room, and the other trainees sharing the room invited me to go down together.

As we headed toward the cafeteria, the warm smell of food hit us even from outside the doorway.

“Could I get a little more stuffed cucumber kimchi?”

At every stop—rice, soup, each side dish—I asked if I could get more, so the staff member serving food eventually gave up and just piled twice as much on my tray as everyone else’s.

When I set the tray, overflowing with food, onto the table with a satisfied expression, the trainee who arrived right after me eyed my tray with concern.

“We have to dance after this… Is it okay to eat that much?”

I nodded and scooped up a full spoon of rice.

The warmth of that single bite felt like it melted away all the exhaustion built up in my body throughout the day.

Freshly cooked rice, hot soup, three different side dishes.

I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve such luxury.

“There’s no protein at all, it’s all vegetables, but you’re really enjoying it.”

Of course I was.

Vegetables this fresh, seasoned with this much care—how could I not?

Food like this was precious.

I kept nodding along to the noisy chatter at the table while focusing on eating, and before I knew it, the tray that had been piled high was completely empty.

I glanced over at the serving counter, wondering if I should go for seconds, but gave up cleanly and turned my head away.

Like one of the other trainees had said earlier, we’d have to learn and dance the program’s signal-song choreography in less than an hour.

Better not overdo it, I thought, picking up my tray and getting to my feet.