Grab the Regressor by the Collar and Debut!

Chapter 46. Daylight (2)

Before the three kernels could even be knocked out by the unrelenting first punch, Lee Doha followed up with a rapid-fire barrage.

And it was delivered with a speed that I had never seen before.

“Hajin, your vocal range is wide, and you’re good at belting out notes. Whether it’s because of your vocal technique or something else, your voice becomes much more attractive when you switch dynamically between chest voice and falsetto, rather than constantly hitting high notes. Otherwise, since you have good rhythm, you could also make a mid-to-low range melody stand out by fully emphasizing the groove with a looser beat.”

“Hey, hold on.”

“The chorus A part of this Daylight starts with high notes and continues with them. It’s better suited for someone who can easily hit those notes with a light voice or who can consistently sustain high notes. In our team, that would be Haru or Siwoo hyung. I think you’d be better suited for the B part that follows. It fits your singing style better.”

…This guy’s better than the system.

[System Alert: What?]

Ah, I wish it would stop reading my mind. However, Lee Doha’s rapid-fire critique wasn’t over yet.

“You said you got the ad-lib for the third verse, right? If I had been in charge of the part distribution, I would have given the ad-lib to someone else and given you the main part of the third verse. Or I would have had you harmonize with the chorus. Given the nature of the song, the third verse needs to be strong and confident, and you have the vocal power and technique to pull that off. But if you do the ad-lib, the member singing the chorus needs to be just as strong as you. As far as I know, there’s no one in the Feather class who can match your vocal power. Your ad-lib might end up overshadowing them. Also—”

“Alright! Alright, I get it, so stop hitting me, man.”

“…? I haven’t hit you, though.”

My mental state was getting battered by your words. How could he be so good with his pronunciation and delivery? As if he was a rapper.

If this continued, I felt like I might lose the last thread of sanity I was holding onto. I raised one hand in a gesture to calm him down while pressing my throbbing temple with the other.

“Telling me I can’t handle my own part is the same as hitting me.”

“No? It’s completely different from that.”

Lee Doha scratched the back of his neck. That gesture usually came before he dropped a bombshell. I instinctively put up my guard.

“Hajin.”

“Yeah, say it. I’m ready to get hit.”

“You divided the parts among the others first, right? Based on what they could do best.”

“…….”

The sky had fallen. Because he was right.

“I’ve noticed since the last monthly evaluation that you always take the leftover parts. You give the parts the others can do best, and take what’s left. The parts they can’t do, or can’t do well.”

“…….”

“I don’t know if that’s what Senior Seo Taeil meant when he said you didn’t have ambition… But from my perspective, you don’t seem to have any. Why don’t you go for what you do best? It’s not like you don’t know your own strengths.”

“…Hey, I could not know. It seems like you know me better than I do right now.”

“No. From what I see, you know the members just as well as the staff in the trainee development team. You were confident I could handle the dance break, but you don’t know your own abilities? That doesn’t make sense.”

Lee Doha looked at me with a confident expression. But why was this guy getting so worked up? I wanted to run away. It was uncomfortable how he kept digging into something inside me that I wasn’t ready to face.

“…I’m just curious.”

“…….”

“Do you have confidence in yourself, or not? Do you have ambition, or not?”

I was at a loss for words when Lee Doha’s final question struck.

“Do you really want to debut?”

But I couldn’t answer that question until the end.

* * *

When in life does a person first experience frustration?

-Hajin came in first again, right? How do you manage that without even sending him to a cram school?

-He’s good at sports too. I heard he turned the tables during the relay race at the sports day event.

It might sound like a brag, but I was someone who, from a young age, rarely experienced anything like frustration.

A child who could do most things above average, despite the poor family circumstances. Whether it was physical activities, studies, or even small things like flipping jeon during holidays or playing card games with adults.

I was better at most things than my peers, did them well, and achieved good results.

-Mom, I passed the audition.

When I received the call that I had passed as a trainee at my first company, it wasn’t all that surprising because, deep down, I had known I would pass. I was happy, but I wasn’t shocked. It didn’t feel like a big deal. I had succeeded in most things I had set out to do.

When you succeed in many things at a very young age.

And when a smart child realizes they’re good at things, do you know what happens?

-Hajin, aren’t you going to practice?

-I will… Ah, I really don’t want to.

-Hey, leave him alone. He doesn’t practice unless he’s sure he’ll do well.

Laziness brought on by easy tasks.

-Seriously, why can’t you guys do this? I might as well do it alone.

-…Do you have to say it like that?

-…Well, then just do it better. What’s the point if you can’t even do better than me with just a day’s practice? Should we just give up?

A lack of consideration for others who couldn’t match my skills.

-Hey, Kang Hajin. Do you think you’re the only one that matters? You only care about yourself, don’t you?

-And why wouldn’t I? Honestly, what I’m saying is right. Maybe you should focus on doing your job better.

Arrogance and pride in myself.

-Third place in the monthly evaluation? You could’ve been first if you’d tried a bit harder. What a shame.

-Mom, I was busy studying for exams and couldn’t practice much, but I still did pretty well, didn’t I? Can’t you just say I did a good job?

A strong desire for recognition when I felt undervalued.

And self-justification for all of it.

To be clear, it’s not that I wasn’t trying my best at every moment. It’s just that…

-Hajin, you could… do even better, so why do you always stop at just good enough?

I always stopped at what I was “able to do.” It was to leave myself an excuse in case things didn’t turn out well.

-Kang Hajin got pushed out of the debut group again.

-He seems talented enough, so why does he keep getting pushed out?

-How many people here have more drive than him?

So when I reached a point where “just good enough” wasn’t enough, I ran away.

I was too scared to face being shattered after giving my all. I didn’t want to experience failure after pouring everything into it.

-Mom, sometimes I’m…

-…….

-I’m scared of my worthless future. I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed in me.

Despite our poor circumstances, my parents gave everything to support their children’s lives, and I didn’t want to disappoint them.

-Mom believes in me so much that if I don’t achieve something, it’ll be entirely my fault.

-…….

-So I’ll just do something else. Something I’m good at, not something that might be possible.

Even after I gave up being a trainee and took another path, I often thought about those days.

-If I hadn’t given up and had seen it through to the end, would things have turned out differently?

-If I could go back to that time, could I give everything I have and face it head-on?

It was only after I lost all motivation and kept second-guessing myself that I finally understood why I couldn’t forget that moment. Why I kept thinking about that time whenever I faced failure.

That day was my first retreat.

And my first experience with frustration, one that I hadn’t even realized I had.

‘So what about now?’

As I floated through my past memories, I asked myself.

Was I running away again?

* * *

The day of the mentor evaluation dawned.

“Kang Ha hyung. What are you thinking about?”

“Huh?”

“What’s up with you today? You keep zoning out.”

At Kim Wonho’s words, as he patted me on the back, I shook my head and said it was nothing.

“It’s way more than nothing; you look like a deposed prince who lost his country.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at the specific comparison.

“Thanks for making me a prince.”

“Honestly, considering your face, Eunchan suits the role better.”

“Isn’t he more like the Duke of the North? There are rumors that he’s a tyrant, but actually, he’s warm to his woman.”

“…I didn’t understand anything you just said except for the warm to his woman part.”

Ah, right. What was I saying to a muggle?

“Never mind. I probably lost my mind because I didn’t get enough sleep.”

It was true that I hadn’t slept well, so I patted Kim Wonho on the shoulder, making a lame excuse.

“Are you ready?”

“Me? I just worked

hard. You told me to work hard.”

“Do you think you can beat Lee Yugeon?”

“Well. But neither he nor I have many parts this time.”

“Why?”

“I’m doing rap, but we have Doha hyung in our team. And it seems like Lee Yugeon’s live performance isn’t as strong as expected. Siwoo hyung didn’t give him many parts. He doesn’t mind, though. As for dancing, Seo Taehyun and Joo Eunchan are the centers.”

Ah, right. I nodded in understanding as I recalled the Wings class members. Lee Yugeon was indeed weaker in vocals compared to his dancing.

“What about Han Sungwoo hyung?”

“That hyung? Well… Now that I think about it, he took all the killing parts. He’s doing the ‘Hello, it’s me’ part.”

“That’s unexpected. I thought they’d give it to Seo Taehyun.”

I wanted to ask if they really gave that part to Han Sungwoo even though they had the terrifyingly honest Lee Doha, but Kim Wonho shrugged as if he read my mind.

“Well… It’s a battle, after all. Hyung is the leader and has many parts, so he wanted at least one guaranteed winning part.”

“And Seo Taehyun agreed? Without insisting on taking it himself?”

“Well… Originally, Doha hyung suggested giving that part to Seo Taehyun.”

Kim Wonho rolled his eyes upward as if recalling the moment.

“But Seo Taehyun said that no matter what part he took, it would be a killing part, so he didn’t care.”

“It’s infuriating how I can’t disagree with that.”

“Yeah. Doha hyung and Siwoo hyung both agreed after hearing that. So they gave the part to Sungwoo hyung.”

Unlike me, Seo Taehyun, who had genuine confidence in his abilities, left me unable to laugh. Ever since that walk with Lee Doha, I had been in this state.

‘Get it together, Kang Hajin. Today’s the mentor evaluation.’

The complex that Lee Doha pointed out was irrelevant to this mission. Even if the part didn’t suit me, with only two days left until the evaluation, it was impossible to change it just for my own ambition.

‘I’ll think about that in the next mission, step by step.’

That was when—

[Really?]

“…What?”

“Huh? What?”

The system window, usually a blue color, glitched and turned red. Then it asked me in a different tone than usual.

“Hyung! Hajin hyung!”

“Hyung, something’s wrong!”

Before I could fully process what appeared on the system window, my team members came rushing toward me, calling my name. I could tell from their expressions that something was seriously wrong.

“Jaeyoung, Jaeyoung’s been taken to the emergency room!”

“What?”

“His fever’s at 39 degrees! What do we do? The PD and the managers are all looking for you!”

“What about our mentor evaluation?”

The system window vibrated again.

[If you have a chance, will you not run away this time?]

I was at a loss for words at the question posed by the system window.