The goal is the Ending Fairy

Chapter 6

It’s bad enough that things aren’t working out, but now it’s draining my life force too?

“......”

I forced myself to ignore the mocking message window and focus on my surroundings instead.

‘Great. I made it too obvious.’

The tiny hope that maybe she hadn’t heard was quickly shattered.

Of course she heard. Why else would her eyes be as wide as a startled rabbit’s?

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

The problem was that nothing had happened.

This damn system... Thanks to it, I was about to be misunderstood for no reason.

‘Thanks a lot, you son of a...’

“Ah, I just suddenly remembered something I’d forgotten...” I mumbled.

As Yoon Hee-jo approached, I waved her off, and she paused mid-step.

Unaware of my inner turmoil, she tilted her head.

“Oh... really? Is something bothering you?”

“N-no. It’s nothing.”

Yoon Hee-jo raised an eyebrow at my unconvincing response.

“Hm... okay.”

She added that I should talk to her if something was wrong, then turned back to her work.

Only when I saw the back of her round head did I finally feel a bit of relief.

But still...

‘How do I get this “View Target Profile” thing...’

I fixed my eyes on the screen window that was still invisible to Yoon Hee-jo.

>>You haven’t acquired the related passive skill yet...

The same message, reminding me I didn’t have the necessary permission.

Having this would make it much easier to handle the key characters. It felt essential.

If this were just a typical idol game, all you’d need to do is grind for stats, so why bother knowing about the other characters?

-If you’re wondering that, it’s better to drop the idea now. At least for this game.

Idol Training Simulation: Happy Idol Raised by My Hands!, the game’s whole premise was simulation, after all.

Even when playing it in reality, key character interactions came up constantly. And with an overwhelming number of choice windows, no less.

How much a character or their situation could shift based on a single choice... only those who’ve played the game know the struggle.

The “View Target Profile” passive was a lifeline for players trapped in this hell.

It lets you make better choices by giving insight into the other person’s information.

Now that I think about it, I remember struggling with those choice windows too...

“Dan-ah.”

I was lost in thought about the missing skill when I heard my name.

I looked up to see Yoon Hee-jo standing over me, though I wasn’t sure how long she’d been there.

“-!”

The problem was, she was leaning in so close her face was cast in shadow.

“Oh, sorry! Did I scare you?”

Uh... my heart just dropped.

“W-why?”

While trying to calm my racing heart, I saw Yoon Hee-jo awkwardly scratching her cheek with her finger.

“Ah, it’s nothing really...”

Oh no.

It seems avoiding suspicion won’t be easy, given how many strange symptoms I’ve been showing in front of her.

...But contrary to my worries, her face wasn’t filled with suspicion.

It was lit up with a bright smile.

“Want to practice that dance you were working on, together?”

“The one I was doing?”

With that gentle expression, she didn’t seem to be thinking about what just happened.

‘That’s a relief.’

More than that, her constant smiling was nice to see... wait, focus.

“...Yeah, that sounds good.”

At my agreement, Yoon Hee-jo’s face bloomed like a flower.

“What were you practicing?”

I handed her the video I’d been working on as she plopped down beside me.

“This one.”

“Ah...! It’s the choreography for the pop song Go Away. I sang this for last month’s evaluation, didn’t I? I did the dance too.”

“Mm, right. You did.”

What do you mean “You did”?

Even though I couldn’t have known since it was before my possession, I found myself nodding naturally.

“You must really like this singer, unnie.”

At my casually thrown question, Yoon Hee-jo’s eyes lit up.

It was like a cheat code; preventing any misses, even if I pressed the arrows randomly.

In other words, for at least an hour, I wouldn’t forget or make mistakes in the choreography.

And if this passive activated during a stage performance, I could at least avoid being the weak link in the dance...

Its very existence was a blessing.

>>Additional experience 4.5/5.0 → 5.0/5.0 achieved!

>>Dance stat grows by one level!

>Dance: 10/100 → 15/100

The string of positive notifications made me feel a bit relieved.

‘So I’m making progress before the first mission....’

At this rate, I should be able to catch up with my vocal stat.

There are about seven days left until the first official mission.

I need to boost my stats as much as possible in the remaining time. That’ll make the upcoming stages easier to prepare for.

But since progress is slow when I practice alone, having Yoon Hee-jo here is the perfect setup for leveling up.

Let’s keep pushing while the numbers are climbing.

“Dan-ah, you...”

When I glanced over, I saw Yoon Hee-jo looking at me intently.

“Your dancing’s really improved!”

“Oh... really?”

“Yeah, totally!”

She beamed, her expression showing a hint of amazement.

It made sense from her perspective.

When Yoon Hee-jo first saw me, my dance stat was barely at 5 experience points.

But now it’s different. I’ve raised it to at least 10, and it showed.

“I still have a lot of areas to work on, though.”

“Even so, your choreography memorization has sped up! And you’re not making any mistakes either...!”

She gave me an enthusiastic thumbs-up, genuinely impressed.

“Now let’s try it at 0.5 speed, then 0.75, and finally full tempo.”

“......”

But her next words were pushing it.

‘Doesn’t she ever get tired?’

We had been practicing for quite a while, yet Yoon Hee-jo’s concentration never wavered. Not once.

Even while learning from someone like me, whose dance skills were far below hers. If anything, it seemed to sharpen her focus even more as she followed the moves.

Then she’d refine the details and kindly teach them back to me.

No doubt, she was worthy of being a trainee from the agency that was once my rival.

But hey, it worked in my favor. Debuting with someone like her meant I’d have fewer chances to mess up my life.

‘I just want to reach the ending and get back to my original world.’

With that thought in mind, I should probably put more effort into practicing too...

“...Dan-ah, want some water?”

“...Thanks.”

But before I could muster any effort, my stamina was already gone. What could I do?

In the end, I was the one gasping for breath, forced to take a break.

Meanwhile, Yoon Hee-jo showed no signs of fatigue, just wiping off her sweat casually.

She could’ve easily kept going, but she seemed to be considerate of my exhausted state.

Forget “View Target Profile,” I needed “Steel Stamina.” That damn “Steel Stamina” passive was even more critical right now.

Collapsing onto the practice room floor, I untied and retied my loose hair.

Yoon Hee-jo, who brought me the water, sat cross-legged beside me.

Our disheveled hair sticking out in all directions was proof of how hard we’d practiced.

Yet despite pouring in all that effort, I didn’t feel any sense of satisfaction or accomplishment.

First of all, my entire body ached like I was dying.

If this were happening with my real body, it’d be one thing. But to feel this way even in a character’s body as a trainee?

I couldn’t tell if my stamina reflected my original self or if this character’s stamina was just that pathetic.

Either way, this wasn’t something I wanted to be doing.

Dancing this hard didn’t feel fulfilling; it felt more like ticking off a tedious assignment.

“I hope I can debut with you, Dan-ah.”

Yoon Hee-jo’s quiet murmur cut through my exhausted thoughts.

I paused, catching my breath at her words, before leaning back on my arms. Tilting my head up in that position, I was met with the harsh glare of the bright white ceiling light.

I quickly turned my head away.

“...Me too.”

As I shifted, my gaze landed on Yoon Hee-jo, who was calmly drinking water.

Unlike my goal, born out of sheer survival instinct, her drive came from a pure desire to achieve her dreams. There was a kind of desperation in her that was entirely different from mine.

Even though she’s just a game character, that difference unsettled me.

A strange, uneasy feeling.

It was as if there was an invisible boundary between Yoon Hee-jo and me.