Title: I Was Isekai'd With My Wife and Now She's the Final Boss of the Fandom Author: H. Behevras Genre: Comedy, Isekai, Music, Married Protagonist, Parody Tags: #FinalBossWife #MetalheadMC #BoybandHell #TrashIsekaiButActuallyGenius
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Chapter 18: Idol of Destruction
The audition hall was bursting with pastel banners, shimmering lights, and boys prettier than reality should allow. Raiko stood out like a bloodstain on a wedding cake—black leather jacket, scuffed boots, his fingers twitching around the neck of his electric guitar like it was a lifeline, and the permanent aura of someone who slept in an alley and headbanged in his dreams.
He adjusted his new side-swept bangs awkwardly.
Noona whispered, "If you scream like a demon again, I swear by every skincare routine I own—you are not getting anything under the sheets for a full year."
Raiko recoiled. "You're using my weakness to control my art."
"I'm using survival to control your dumbass."
"I'm metal."
"You're broke."
He sulked. "What do you want me to do? Sing like a Disney prince?"
"No. I want something like M. Shadows. Not a demon vomiting in Latin."
The line moved. Contestants in pastel uniforms, perfectly synchronized smiles, and glittering hair clips stepped up one by one. They sang, danced, posed, and bowed.
Then it was Raiko's turn.
He stepped onto the stage with his electric guitar slung over his shoulder. The instrument hummed with faint magical resonance, a mystery even in this fantasy realm. The judges—a panel of flamboyant nobles and retired pop stars—eyed him with suspicion.
"Stage name?" one judge asked.
"Raiko."
"Just Raiko?"
"...Prince Raiko of Lightning."
Noona buried her face in her hands.
Raiko plugged in his guitar—he insisted on singing while playing—and the music began. Not a thrash riff. Not guttural screams. Raiko took a deep breath—and sang.
It wasn't metal. Not quite. But it had that smoky power, the kind that grabs your chest and shakes loose the ghosts hiding in your ribs. His voice had grit, soul, and a raw clarity—like M. Shadows crooning during a thunderstorm.
Powerful. Melancholy. Explosive. Controlled chaos.
The judges' jaws dropped.
The other contestants peeked from backstage, some clinging to each other. Even the lighting technician lowered his sandwich.
Raiko's voice crashed through the air like divine rage dressed in velvet.
When he finished, the stage was dead silent.
Then applause. Reluctant. Confused. But real.
"He's..." one judge whispered. "He's got a powerful voice with a bad boy vibe."
"Like if a warrior got lost in a boyband," another added.
"He's unpolished," the lead judge said, stroking his chin. "But he's... sellable."
The ghouls—five idol trainees lounging in the back row—perked up.
Hyun-bin, the main dancer and self-declared center, gasped. "He's not even pretty-pretty. He's dangerous-pretty."
Minjun, the sweet vocal, clasped his hands. "Is this... what passion sounds like?"
Taeyang stood up and shouted, "YO THIS GUITAR SOLO IS POSSESSING ME—AAAAHHHH!"
Jinwoo narrowed his eyes. "Merch sales potential: 400% spike."
Eun, the baby-faced maknae, clutched his bunny hoodie. "He's scary... but kinda cool."
When Raiko finished, the crowd was silent. Then—thunderous applause.
The head judge scribbled notes. "Rough edges... needs styling... but marketable. Keep him."
Raiko returned backstage and held up devil horns.
"I didn't scream once," he whispered proudly.
Noona patted his shoulder. "Good boy."
Moments later, the ghouls approached him like curious cats.
Hyun-bin flipped his hair. "So you're the wildcard, huh?"
Raiko shrugged. "Metalhead in exile."
Taeyang immediately hugged him. "BRO YOU GOT DEMON ENERGY I LOVE IT."
Jinwoo smirked. "Welcome to the circus."
Minjun offered a bottle of honey tea. Eun hid behind him, peeking.
And just like that, Raiko had joined the most beautiful disaster in the realm.
The idol arc had begun.
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TO BE CONTINUED
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Author Notes:
Fun fact: this chapter was written with M. Shadows playing in the background and the spirit of every cursed boyband contract whispering in my ear.
Raiko wasn't supposed to scream. He screamed anyway. And somehow… it worked.
Noona's migraine? Legendary.
---H. Behevras
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© 2025 H. Behevras | First published on Royal Road
Do not repost without permission.
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