Madojin’s Room.
Knock knock.
As Madojin was resting, someone knocked on his door.
“Who is it?”
Standing at the entrance, Madojin asked.
“Ah, Dojin-ssi! It’s staff member Son Minju!”
A familiar name.
Madojin opened the door.
There stood a female staff member, catching her breath.
‘I can’t see her clearly…’
But the name was familiar.
“What brings you here?”
Madojin asked, and Son Minju answered with a sheepish smile.
“Ah, well… there’s someone who wants to see you.”
“…Someone wants to see me?”
Madojin tilted his head.
“Yes… she said she’s your mother. But here’s the strange part—she didn’t call in advance, and she said she doesn’t even have your phone number. Things are dangerous these days, so I came to check with you.”
She had come without contacting him beforehand and didn’t even know his number.
It all seemed very suspicious.
That was Son Minju’s judgment, but Madojin himself simply stared blankly for a moment and then said,
“She is my mother.”
As he spoke, he put on his coat.
“I should go meet her. Where is she now?”
“Uh… she’s in the lounge on the 7th floor…”
Son Minju replied, looking flustered.
She’d assumed it was some obsessive fan—maybe she’d been wrong?
“Understood. Thank you.”
Madojin bowed slightly and headed to the 7th floor.
‘Why…’
He thought.
‘Why would she come here? She shouldn’t even know I’m participating in CYB…’
7th Floor Lounge.
The lounge was nearly empty, most contestants having left.
Only a graceful middle-aged woman sat near the window.
Madojin walked toward her table.
“…How did you…”
He addressed the woman.
“…How did you get here?”
The woman didn’t answer. She was staring out the window with a vacant expression.
Beside her sat a mug of chamomile tea.
After a sip, she finally spoke.
“You really don’t look like my son at all.”
Then she looked at Madojin.
“Sit down. Would you talk with me for a bit?”
Madojin sat across from her.
They sat in silence, staring out the fogged-up window. It looked like snow could fall at any moment.
“…You found out.”
Breaking the silence, Madojin asked.
“Who knows.”
She gave a soft laugh.
“Maybe I found out everything, maybe just a little. I’m not sure. But one thing is certain…”
Her gaze turned toward him.
“…You’re not really my Dojin, are you?”
“That’s correct.”
Madojin replied faintly.
“My real son died in an accident years ago. I don’t know why I forgot, or why I thought you were him for months… But now…”
“…I’m sorry.”
Madojin exhaled shakily.
“I’m sorry. Truly… I…”
He needed to say something.
To tell her who he was.
But what could he say?
Who am I, really…?
That question filled his mind.
“No, it’s okay. Calm down.”
She reached across the table and held his hand.
“I’m not here to blame you. So can you calm yourself?”
Madojin sat quietly, head bowed, and listened to her voice.
“Whatever the situation… I can tell from how you’re reacting now.”
She whispered.
“You weren’t pretending to be my son on a whim. So, would you mind answering a few questions?”
Madojin nodded weakly.
“…What’s your real name?”
“I don’t have one.”
“…Parents?”
“None.”
“…Ah.”
Her expression shifted rapidly—first anger, then confusion, then resignation. She sighed deeply.
“…Is that really true?”
Madojin looked up.
He looked as if he might burst into tears any second.
“It’s true…”
And from that look, she instinctively knew he was telling the truth.
“I see… I don’t know your circumstances, but…”
She gave a weary smile.
“…You’ve had a hard life, haven’t you.”
Madojin couldn’t say anything.
He couldn’t even tell what had been hard.
“You’re busy now, right? Isn’t the finals coming up soon? I don’t follow CYB, so I’m not sure…”
She stood up from her seat.
“When things settle down, would you come see me? We can talk more then. Chin up—I don’t resent you.”
Madojin remained seated, listening in silence.
“Will you promise? That we’ll meet again?”
Madojin nodded faintly.
“Good.”
She patted his head.
“Do well out there, my fake son.”
With those soft words, she turned and walked away.
Madojin remained frozen in his seat.
‘…The spell is unraveling.’
She was never supposed to realize he wasn’t her real son.
‘But that spell…’
Should’ve been unbreakable…
Ding! Ding!—!
As if to mock him, cheerful sounds rang in his head.
[Tutorial Quest has been updated.]
[Tutorial Quest has been updated.]
[Tutorial Quest has been updated.]
[Tutorial Quest has been updated.]
Madojin’s vision was now filled with popup windows.
So many that he could barely see.
[Objective: Kill Ryu Eunyul]
[Objective: Kill Ryu Eunyul]
[Objective: Kill Ryu Eunyul]
[Objective: Kill Ryu Eunyul]
[Objective: Kill Ryu Eunyul]
[Objective: Kill Ryu Eunyul]
[Objective: Kill Ryu Eunyul]
Madojin’s vision was filled with a goal he never wanted to see.
13th Floor Practice Room.
“Arranging the band sound around the violin…”
Min Heejae nodded.
“That’s a good idea. There are rock songs that combine guitar and violin. Even some metal tracks.”
“…Really?”
If Heejae was saying that, then my strategy had worked.
But there was still one hurdle left.
“That aside… the arrangement.”
Heejae squinted.
“Don’t you think it’s kind of shameless to ask me to arrange it?”
“Ahaha…”
I laughed awkwardly.
I had no talent for arrangement. I didn’t even know the ‘P’ in “producing.”
But I couldn’t trust the CYB production team with something this personal.
So I intended to strike a deal with Heejae.
“If you do my arrangement, I’ll record chorus for your track…”
“Sure, why not.”
Surprisingly, Heejae agreed right away.
“I needed your voice anyway. But I’ll work you hard.”
“Of course…”
I laughed weakly.
“Deal’s sealed, Instrument. We’re in a secret relationship now.”
“Could you call it a secret alliance instead?”
Heejae would probably squeeze everything out of me.
That was fine. If it meant a fair trade, so be it.
“By the way, Heejae-hyung…”
I looked around.
Various objects were floating in midair.
“…What’s with all this?”
“Poltergeist phenomenon.”
He said it like he was commenting on the weather.
“My constellation will relinquish their divine title and pass on after the final stage. That might be why things are acting up.”
“W-Wait, are the ‘Ten Kings of the Underworld’ throwing a tantrum and tossing stuff around?”
Considering what I saw when we met the Ten Kings of the Underworld with Jeong Noeul, it seemed very likely.
“Who knows…”
Heejae placed his hands on the keyboard.
A beautiful melody flowed out.
Gentle, tinged with melancholy.
“It’s ‘Farewell,’ one of Chopin’s études.”
As the piano played, the floating objects quietly settled back into place.
“Instrument, my goal is to make the debut team—not necessarily to be first.”
Heejae spoke quietly.
“Wouldn’t it be weird if I got first place? I do want to be an idol, but I love music itself more…”
Dooong—
The music stopped.
“…So, Instrument.”
He gave me a sly smile.
“If someone has to get first place… I hope it’s you.”
I listened quietly.
I couldn’t just be happy that he supported me.
After all, Heejae had made it to the final stage through enormous effort as well.
Everyone here had worked incredibly hard to get this far.
So no matter who took first, it wouldn’t be strange.
‘But still…’
Wishing I could stand in that spot myself wasn’t strange either.
“You’ve come this far, so why not aim for the win too?”
I shrugged.
“You say you weren’t that into idols, but you made it to the final stage. You can’t pretend you don’t know anything about idols anymore.”
“Yeah?”
Heejae chuckled.
“Maybe you’re right. Then maybe I should stop rooting for you.”
“Good. That’s much cooler.”
I smiled.
Thwack—!
A roll of toilet paper flew in from somewhere and smacked Heejae in the back of the head.
…The Ten Kings of the Underworld seemed to agree with me.
To think he came this far just to fulfill his childhood friend’s dream—Min Heejae really was something else.
“Anyway, Instrument.”
Heejae rubbed the back of his head.
“Let me rephrase it then. I’m going for first place, but if I debut in the project group, I really hope we’re in the same team.”
“You read my mind. I also think I’ll get first place, but I hope we debut in the same group.”
I held out my hand.
“Shall we shake on it?”
“Sure.”
We shook hands.
Thanks to CYB, I’d met so many great people.
Han Iro, Jeong Noeul, Min Heejae—each one had become incredibly important to me.
‘I really hope we all debut together…’
That thought crossed my mind.
‘But if we all made the debut team, there would be five members…’
So while I was daydreaming anyway, I let myself think more specifically.
‘Me, Han Iro, Jeong Noeul, Min Heejae, and…’
The last member would of course be—
‘…Madojin.’
That thought struck me suddenly.
Time flew by in a blur.
Practice, practice, and more practice…
And today—
The Final Stage has begun.
Little Pink Starfish 
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