“Excuse me, but what’s your real rank...?”

“Roy, you’re good—why are you labeled F?”

“Shh. Where do you think you’re going?”

Surrounded by my teammates, I felt like I was on trial. I’d threatened Seohyunwoo to keep my secret, but my carelessness almost exposed me.

“I’m a harmless F. I think the dummy must be defective—”

“Are you kidding me?”

Yeonwoo cut me off in a low, furious voice—100% pissed. He glared at me as if he wanted to kill me. Of course, I felt hurt too.

But I told him I’m S-rank!

When I came here for the first shoot, I’d clearly said I’m really “God Gong.” He was the one who didn’t believe me then! But I’d never seen Yeonwoo get this serious, so I didn’t dare argue. Rolling my eyes and smacking my lips for a moment, I noticed training time was up—the next team had arrived.

“Hello~ your time’s up.”

“Oh, right! We’ll head out now. Come on, let’s go.”

I nudged my teammates forward, deliberately changing the subject. If I had to explain, it’d be better to do it outside where there were no cameras. I led the still-skeptical teammates to the far side of the hall.

“How far are we going?”

I kept my lips sealed and walked in silence. After a few minutes, I’d successfully brought them to a secluded spot—no participants passing by, no cameras, no staff watching: a perfect blind spot. I glanced around several times to ensure safety, then faced them. 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

“Now will you tell us?”

I forced an awkward smile. I still had no intention of revealing my rank. Why not? Obviously for a huge plot twist and bigger dopamine rush. Do you know the one rule for successful survival contestants? They need a “narrative.” And I, who’d dominated the spotlight since the rank evaluation, already had my narrative planned. Normally, producers choose your narrative—but that comes with a deadly flaw: editing can make you an angel or a demon.

Thankfully I’m still within my big-picture plan.

The narrative I aimed for was:

“The trash-tier loner from Seokak High... turns out to be S-rank God Gong!?”

It’s a cliché webnovel trope, but clichés always work. This narrative needed the development of “Is he really F? Or not?”—dropping subtle breadcrumbs to maintain interest: that’s the kick of a power-hidden narrative.

I need to extend this buzz at least until mid-season.

So I can’t reveal my rank now. Instead, I’d deploy none other than “God’s Lighting.”

“You guys must’ve misseen. The dummy was defective and exploded on its own. I didn’t even use a skill, right?”

I babbled, hoping they’d believe me—and in my mind, the status window appeared:

【Casting skill ‘God’s Lighting.’】

Got it! The answer was middle abbreviation. With this epiphany, I knew how to handle “God’s Lighting.”

“You know, now that I think about it, you’re right—maybe the dummy did just explode on its own.”

“That was nearly disastrous!”

“How do they even make this equipment? Roy, are you okay?”

“No more solo practice for you from now on. Got it?”

My teammates demanding an explanation now nodded along, convinced. Sorry I duped Taeeon and Yeonwoo, but that was on them—I’ll clean it up later.

So now the only issue is the training room footage.

I had three options:

Tell Junseo the truth and ask for help—most honest, but too much hassle. I’d have to explain why I hid my rank and recount the Bureau stuff—who has time for that?

Destroy every camera—natural, but I can’t wreck the staff’s or other teams’ equipment.

Swipe only the memory cards from the cameras that filmed me. There were fifteen cameras; by their angles, about five recorded me.

It hurts, but I’ll steal only my footage.

If so, on Day 1’s team training, I’d appear edited out—but I saw no other way. Resigned, I clasped my hands and prayed silently:

“Lord, grant me the grace to become a righteous thief tonight.”

✧

One week later, it was broadcast day for once more. A lot happened to everyone over the past week. First, the rookie PD of suffered the worst backlash—because I’d stolen the SD cards from five training-room cameras, he took a fierce scolding from his seniors.

The second victim was the main PD, Park Junseo. He couldn’t bring himself to berate the crestfallen rookie who’d even skipped meals—so he covered for him with generous understanding:

“It’s okay. Everyone makes mistakes when they’re new and learns.”

You can’t rewind time. Yelling would only hurt feelings, so he let it slide—until one of the staff asked:

“What? Say that again.”

“I think Lee Roi trained in front of the empty cameras.”

By chance, the mistaken training room belonged to our team—and by chance, I’d trained in front of it alone.

“Why?”

“I—how would I know...?”

Junseo echoed helplessly. Rumor had it that the sight of me, struggling alone, was so endearing. But he’d missed filming it. He hadn’t even captured my favorite skill during the intro shoot due to my shaky condition. Faced with this second blow, his world collapsed.

Next was Kim Hojin. Elevated to Butler status by my more powerful “God’s Lighting,” Hojin couldn’t have been happier:

Lee Roi’s “official” butler!

1.5 million InHeart followers in a second!

Everyone asked me how I was doing, and each time I did, I felt special to him.

I’m not useless anymore.

Though we were far apart, he indulged in daily calls. He said even Roze didn’t get that, because I considered him extra special... Recalling my kind words, Hojin’s cheeks blushed. This had to be the most meaningful moment of my life—so far.

But with great joy came an awkward side effect: a single misposted selfie for the audience event. On InHeart, it sparked:

Real-time trend “Butler face” 😳

“With that face, no wonder he got chosen” (Hojin_authpic.jpg)

“I went to the same cram school as Namchin-nam, but he barely spoke and was shy for 9 years—how’d Lee Roi do it? Face?”

“Forbes’ best verification photo ever” (Hojin_authpic.jpg)

“Face merge GOAT”

“Hey, this is just cat flexing ㅜㅜ without a cat, life is suffering” (Hojin_authpic.jpg)

└ High-level cat flex

“I’m the only one without a cat...”

To me, Hojin was always my little cute brother I wanted to protect and look after. He knew his human-cat was truly S-rank—and that was all. He insisted on casual clothes outside; Awakener celebrities drew constant attention, and high-rank Awakeners rivaled pop stars in fame. °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° A-ranks were treated like celebrities, S-ranks were on another level.

And our Roy wasn’t just any S-rank—he was Korea’s first elemental S-rank. People still wondered just how amazing an elemental S-rank was and wanted to see it in action.

Maybe that’s why he hides it so desperately.

He’d guarded his license the first time we met. I guess he feared people’s attention. But if someone like him enters a survival show, it must mean he’s ready to reveal himself.

At least I’ll always treat him like a normal person.

Not that I wasn’t curious about Awakener-Roy, but I pretended not to be, worried he’d feel burdened. Yet now was the perfect opportunity: a live audience for ! I could legally see Awakener-Roy in person—I had to go. And it was a perfect excuse.

If they ask why I’m here, I’ll pretend I came to cheer him on.

With that excited thought, I submitted my application—only to realize:

You only have to film the broadcast screen...!

A verification photo should show the entrant’s face, right? So I casually took a selfie, never suspecting it would blow up. Hojin only learned two days later that my photo had trended third on a social network. On Monday, walking into cram school as usual, he received everyone’s full attention—especially Deoksun.

“Hey, Kim Hojin!”

He froze. Stepping into the classroom, he backed away without thinking.

Did I do something wrong?

His pupils trembled. Deoksun only used his full name when I messed up. But the ones calling his name weren’t just Deoksun:

“Hojin-ah!”

“Butler!”

“Namchin-nam!”

When he came to, he was surrounded by girls, jostled back and forth.