Chapter 36: Transformation into an Idol 7

Since they had only stayed behind out of sheer boredom, everyone was busy chatting and complaining to one another, paying zero attention to the stage until the very first note rang out.

Performances at the Idol Academy required live vocals, and the sound system was top-notch, perfectly capturing and projecting the singer's voice. The opening lines were sung a cappella by Luo Qing. Although she was terribly uncoordinated in her limbs, her voice was legendary throughout the academy; had idols not been required to excel in both singing and dancing, she could have already made her official debut.

As the two began their choreography, Mu Yin's vocals seamlessly blended in. Luo Qing's voice possessed an ethereal, elusive quality, whereas Mu Yin's was deeper, carrying the intimate resonance of a whispered secret. Surprisingly, their contrasting voices harmonized exceptionally well.

The audience, previously lost in whispers, instantly fell silent, staring in astonishment at the stage. The two performers were now weaving through a dynamic routine, hands locked in a push-and-pull dynamic that felt less like a romantic serenade and more like a fierce duel. Yet, they remained inextricably bound, locked in a struggle against one another.

The lyrics echoed this inner turmoil: "Leave us be, we cannot be together." While the words spoke of absolute rejection, the melodies were steeped in profound sorrow. In contrast to Luo Qing's lyrics of escapism, Mu Yin's lines—tailored to match her dominant aura—were far more resolute, dripping with defiance and an indifferent dismissal of external opinions and judgments.

Even in flight, one cannot deceive their own heart. Ultimately, Luo Qing surrendered to the struggle. If this was the fate, they would defy the entire world just to remain together. At this juncture, the adversarial choreography softened into something more intimate. Naturally, Mu Yin took the lead, guiding Luo Qing. In that exact fraction of a second, their outfits shifted into a striking crimson ensemble, the two garments cleverly bound together.

As the music and dance reached their grand finale, the two stood back-to-back, hands linked, heads bowed slightly—resembling twin lotus blossoms blooming from a single stalk. After a brief beat of absolute stillness, thunderous applause erupted, accompanied by loud cheers from various corners of the room. Luo Qing raised her head, looking out at the applauding crowd with a radiant, joyful smile.

"We did it! We actually pulled it off!" Luo Qing leaped into the air with delight, her eyes curving into bright crescents, making her look like a delicate porcelain doll. The transformation duration had now expired, and their attire reverted back to standard school uniforms.

Tch, such a trashy ability that could only sustain a transformation for the length of a single song. Honestly, what was the point? Ah, well, never mind—the transformation ability had no cooldown, allowing for a secondary shift at any moment.

Naturally, such limitations only applied to pathetic abilities like theirs. Combat-type abilities had strict cooldown periods; while she wasn't certain of the exact duration, her understanding was that the stronger the combat power, the longer the cooldown.

The instructors, who had dutifully served as judges from start to finish, offered glowing evaluations of the performance. One dance instructor remarked, "Both of you still have distinct flaws in your dancing, but you managed to leverage those very weaknesses to alter the choreography, and even adapted the song to match. That was exceptionally well done."

"The song arrangement was brilliant as well. Most importantly, your vocals truly conveyed the hidden emotions embedded within the track. I hope you will keep up the good work and continue to improve," commented the music instructor.

"The costume design was fantastic, and the overall visual aesthetic fit the theme of the song seamlessly," added the instructor in charge of stage styling and presentation.

With the teachers handing out high scores, as long as the like-to-dislike ratio on the academy's official web portal wasn't too disastrous, they were guaranteed to pass this assessment with flying colors. In reality, the students rarely went out of their way to maliciously downvote someone unless there was deep-seated animosity. Moreover, students caught maliciously sabotaging others' videos by the faculty would face official warnings and grade demotions.

Consequently, Mu Yin and Luo Qing would smoothly advance to Level 6 next month. While rankings below Level 5 relied heavily on the approval ratio, Level 5 and above factored in an additional, crucial element: fandom. That was correct—the dividing line between Level 5 and Level 6 was the accumulation of a dedicated fan base.

Upon reaching Level 6, students were permitted to apply for official personal accounts on the top trending network and begin cultivating their online presence. Once their follower count hit one million, they were eligible to officially debut. During this period, they could upload videos and host live streams to attract followers. The moment they secured their one-thousandth fan, they would automatically graduate to Level 5.

Relying on her memories, Mu Yin powered up the computer, logged into the trending network, and began the registration process. Naturally, real-name verification was required. She meticulously entered her details, including her student ID. Instantly, her handle updated to "Idol Trainee Muxi," accompanied by her academy rank of Level 6, alongside her age, birthday, and various other verified credentials.

After browsing how other students in the academy managed their profiles, she uploaded her performance video with Luo Qing onto her personal homepage, adding the title: *Stage Performance: Twin Lotuses*. Everyone in this idol academy world was familiar with the concept, and while there were others like it, the general workflow remained identical. End-of-month evaluations always followed the same routine.

Because of this, many people searched for evaluation performances at the beginning of each month, browsed through whatever caught their interest, and clicked the follow button if they liked what they saw. Come to think of it, although transformation-type abilities were utterly useless, at least they looked visually appealing.

There were far more transformation abilities that were not only useless but downright hideous—such as transforming into a beggar. Consequently, the Idol Academy only had a total of ten branches globally, with each year's incoming freshman class capped at five hundred, despite the world boasting a population of ten billion.

In truth, when one tallied it up, this world was flooded with garbage transformation abilities, some of which were actively hazardous. If it only harmed the user, that was one thing, but certain transformations posed threats to others around them. In any society, narrow-minded prejudice was inevitable, leading to these specific abilities facing severe discrimination. Some people even treated those affected like walking plagues, which inevitably drove a number of them down a dark path.

Compounded by the already significant number of villains in the world, this birthed an anti-social organization that seemingly sought to pull the strings behind the scenes—the primary reason why society remained so unstable today. Ah, once people gained extraordinary powers, absolute control became an impossible dream. Compared to weapon regulations, controlling powers of this nature clearly yielded zero effective results.

This gave Mu Yin a lingering thought: if one could track down the very source of these transformations and neutralize it, perhaps this world would finally achieve stability—or at least become a far better place than it was now. Furthermore, it might even resolve the overarching plot issues. Well, she was probably overthinking things; reaching the pinnacle of the entertainment industry had nothing to do with solving the mysteries of supernatural transformations.

Therefore, she might as well push Luo Qing forward to take the spotlight. Why didn't she go up herself? Because she was a transmigrator as well, equipped with her own golden finger. If the fundamental plot of this world revolved around transmigrators, stepping into the limelight herself would likely thrust her directly into the epicenter of the script.

Mu Yin understood this logic quite clearly. Actually, there was another alternative—preventing anyone from ever reaching the absolute peak. However, the scope of such a restriction was far too broad, and she couldn't guarantee she could keep everything under control. Besides, the third-generation female protagonist had yet to surface, which was why she wanted to prop someone else up to take the brunt of the burden.

Sigh, as the plot and the world continued to merge over time, the storyline grew increasingly elusive—especially since she had no prior knowledge of how the narrative was supposed to unfold. She could only rely on her own comprehension of standard tropes to track down the nth-generation female protagonist.

At this thought, Mu Yin felt a headache coming on. It seemed she needed to raise her supernatural power levels as quickly as possible and invent a tool capable of detecting the plot progression and the female protagonist.