Chapter 9: Wind White

“Hm, hum hum.”

In the CEO’s office, Ryu Cheon-seong was humming.

He was thinking about the walking nuclear bomb who visited today.

Too suspicious.

And that’s what made her so intriguing.

She claimed she’d never been a trainee anywhere, yet her dance and singing skills were technically flawless.

When they recorded her voice for a composer, the staff were stunned.

How could someone have such a voice and sing like that?

Even 10-year veteran singers would nod and calmly admit she outdid them.

But bizarrely, while her technique was perfect, her emotional delivery was utterly infantile.

It’s absurd. To reach that level of technical mastery without a shred of emotion?

It was like an android, a mechanical doll built to sing.

‘There was that project in Japan.’

Voice actors recorded individual syllables, stitched together to create a mechanical vocal, functioning as an instrument.

Composers without singing talent went wild for it—no need to find a compatible partner when a machine could sing for you.

Once, a cyber singer made with that tech even appeared on a Korean music show. That’s how innovative it was.

It never surpassed human quality, so it didn’t become a global hit, but Ryu Cheon-seong respected its pioneering spirit.

‘I thought robot tech had finally reached sci-fi levels.’

Today’s visitor made him think that.

Perfect technical singing and dancing, but no emotion.

Add to that a face so stunning, no actor in the world could compare.

Rather than a hidden gem, it was more believable she escaped a research lab.

This girl seemed built entirely to captivate people.

In truth, as Ryu suspected, she wasn’t human, but even he couldn’t guess that far.

‘So many secrets, but that’s part of the charm.’

She’d debut within three months, but the contract would only be signed in two.

She said she’d never been a trainee and wouldn’t reveal who taught her to dance or sing.

Most would think: Is she a problem trainee with multiple contracts? A scammer?

Ryu Cheon-seong dismissed those concerns easily.

As a top entertainment industry mogul, he could confidently say she was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.

No idol or actress came close. It was more believable she was an angel or goddess fallen from the sky.

No corporate chairman could resist her charm; no male could escape her allure. The idea of her scheming for money was unimaginable.

And her declaration to pursue being an idol with sincerity didn’t feel like an ordinary, petty human’s.

A shining star.

He was certain she’d become a massive star.

‘Han, Seo, Hyeon. A name I’ll never forget.’

He didn’t know her legal name was still Han Seok-hyeon, pending a name change at family court.

‘I can’t wait to see her on stage.’

All day, a smile lingered on his lips.

It was a whirlwind. The day after declaring at a family dinner that I’d become an idol, I marched to a major agency’s CEO and demanded a debut within three months.

And it worked. I got a firm promise from Ryu Cheon-seong to debut in that time.

In a novel, a long audition arc spanning 25 chapters or a whole volume got cut to one chapter!

But it makes sense. Current idols, even legendary ones, can’t match me.

In looks, singing, and dancing, I’m a 100 out of 10, an invasive species, a predator wolf among sheep.

Ryu Cheon-seong said my choreography lacked soul, that it had no emotion.

But that’s something I can fix quickly, right?

Put heart into singing and dancing. Just be “sincere”!

Or so I thought, but back home, reflecting, it wasn’t that easy.

“Hmm…”

How do I act like a sincerely seductive idol?

It’s so embarrassing my face might explode.

Naturally, my mind drifted to the person—no, monster—I know who’s best at this.

Not a person, but a Gumiho.

Pungbaek.

White hair, sky-blue eyes, Cheonyang’s wildest playboy and perverse Gumiho.

My mentor who helped me survive that world, but honestly, a vile trash Gumiho who deserved to be stabbed.

Want an anecdote?

With my hair cut short, posing as his boy servant, I followed him and saw his antics up close.

I mentioned before a nearly thousand-year-old Gumiho who enchanted people for fun—that was Pungbaek.

He targeted untouchable women: rich daughters, noble princesses, innocent highborn ladies.

Using his stunning looks, mysterious aura, and worldly charm, he seduced them, spent nights with them, and drained their vitality.

When they were utterly weakened, he’d reveal:

“I’m the one who made you sick. I drained your vitality. What do you think?”

And they’d all say:

“For Pungbaek-nim, I’d give my life. I love you.”

Know how many women fell for that creep?

Watching it made my blood boil.

If he were a weak monster who needed it to survive, I might’ve understood.

But as I said, he was a near-Cheonho-level great monster.

He seduced those women purely for amusement, and I trailed him, praying he’d get stabbed soon.

Not that a few stabs would kill a monster like him.

“Ugh…”

Men and women are different but also the same “human.”

Pungbaek’s seduction techniques are etched in my mind.

Could I use them to perfect my “seductiveness”?

I practiced a slight smile in the mirror.

Narrowing my eyes, a subtle smirk, projecting confidence.

To enchant someone, you have to make them restless.

My mentor’s—no, that bastard’s—advice echoed in my head.

Foxes are canines, so calling him a bastard fits.

In the mirror, I was stunning. I felt like I could enchant myself.

‘I’m not a narcissist, but I’m too pretty.’

Cheonyang lacked mirrors this clear, so I never saw my face properly.

Now, facing a perfect mirror, just staring is fun.

Being pretty is the best.

“But if your skills don’t match that face, you’ll be seen as all flash, no substance.”

Blackie hit the nail on the head.

How does a demon lord from another world have such sharp insight?

‘I’ve existed long enough to gain insight in many fields. Didn’t I say that before?’

“There’s nothing like idols in your world. How do you know?”

That’s why it’s so surprising.

Anyway, I’ve got two weeks of free time.

Ryu Cheon-seong said it’d take that long to prepare to slot me into a debut group.

In that time, I should find a way to put sincerity into my dancing and singing.

‘Tough.’

My head hurts. Maybe I’ll take a break and play some games.

Fifteen years ago, as a typical high school boy, I loved gaming, but since returning, I’ve been busy reuniting with family and figuring out survival.

Now that things are on track, I want a day to relax.

Father got me a computer, so a little playtime should be fine.