Grab the Regressor by the Collar and Debut!

Chapter 47. Daylight (3)

As soon as I heard that Park Jaeyoung had collapsed, only one thought crossed my mind.

‘Is this that bastard’s doing?’

The mysterious red system window. Was it calling this—Park Jaeyoung collapsing because he was sick—a “chance”? Did it make a perfectly healthy guy fall ill just to test me?

[Is this really the time to be worrying about that?]

[It shouldn’t be.]

“Hyung, hurry up! The PD is looking for you!”

Before I could fully grasp the sudden situation, I was dragged away by the trainees who grabbed me. We arrived at the entrance of a practice room on the fifth floor.

“Ah, Hajin-ssi.”

“Hajin’s here?”

“Yes. What happened to Jaeyoung? What’s going on?”

As soon as I saw Ji Suho standing next to the PD, I asked, and he extended his hand as if to calm me down. But there was no way I could be calm.

“It’s just the flu from the change of seasons. It’s not a big deal, but he had a high fever… He’s resting in the emergency room with an IV drip.”

“Ah…”

“More importantly, it’s about the mentor evaluation. It seems we’ll have to go without Jaeyoung.”

Somehow, a camera was already rolling. At that moment, my mind started racing. In my head, I could already see a preview of how our current situation would be edited.

[Wow, that’s well written.]

I once quit as an assistant director and did some freelance subtitle writing. No, that’s not the point right now.

“We think it would be best if you quickly reorganize everything, including Jaeyoung’s parts, and report back. Even if we use the version with Jaeyoung for the performance video, for today…”

“…Yes, I understand. I’ll gather the kids, hold a meeting, and then report back to you.”

“Yes, yes. Of course. We’ve set up this practice room, so you can rehearse more if needed, and update the scriptwriter with any changes in the parts.”

“Got it.”

My complicated thoughts made it hard to control my expression. Where was Park Jaeyoung’s part again? And his choreography and stage positioning? Who could possibly replace him? The practice videos of our team, which I’d reviewed dozens of times, automatically replayed in my mind.

“Hyung, what do we do? We have less than three hours left…”

“How are we going to change all the stage positions?”

“Hey. Quiet.”

But there was no time to stand around like an idiot.

“Call everyone. Gather them all. Quickly.”

* * *

The only saving grace was that Park Jaeyoung was the sub-vocal 3, so there weren’t many parts to cover.

‘Should I be relieved that he’s not one of the main members like Gong Seok-hyung?’

I kept cross-referencing the lyrics and stage positioning guide repeatedly, feeling more frustrated each time. No matter how crucial storylines are in survival shows, this kind of unexpected twist wasn’t needed, nor was it welcome.

Moreover…

‘There’s no one suitable to take over.’

If we focused on changing the stage positions, the parts would be too numerous, making it difficult for anyone to manage their breathing. If we focused on skills, the stage positions would be a major overhaul.

“We need to make a choice.”

“……”

“Which will be faster—revising the stage positions significantly or handling the parts? But I think the stage positions will be easier.”

The guys from B-Team, who had gathered around me, visibly wavered at my words. But there was a reason for my decision.

“We’ll have to revise the stage positions anyway. The formation is changing from an odd number to an even number.”

Changing the group from a nine-member formation to an eight-member one is harder than changing it from nine to seven. The entire structure has to change. Expecting these guys, who are already overwhelmed, to take on additional parts is out of the question.

‘Not to mention they may not even be able to memorize the lyrics in time.’

“Let’s try to rework it in a way that doesn’t interfere with the choreography direction—”

“Hey, Hajin.”

“Yes, what is it, Seok-hyung? Hurry up and tell me.”

“Why don’t you just take over?”

I was about to explain the new arrangement I’d painstakingly come up with when Gong Seok interrupted, and for a moment, I lost my train of thought. Silence settled in the practice room. Seizing the moment, Seok added a few more words.

“You… You already know all the lyrics, don’t you? You were the one singing along while we practiced. And right now, you have the fewest parts. If you take all of Jaeyoung’s parts… it seems like the fastest solution. What do you think?”

I couldn’t think of anything to say in response. And as if to prompt me further, the damn system window popped up in front of me again.

[Sudㄴen Queㅅt!]

: You’ve been given a chance. Take it.

Failure Penalty: Mental Care System Shattered -1000000000000000000000000000000%

This bastard.

“Yeah, it’s better if Hajin-hyung takes it.”

“Hajin-hyung, you do it. Honestly, if not you, then who else can handle it?”

I couldn’t tell if my team members were trusting me or just trying to shove the responsibility onto me. Their voices echoed around me. I looked at the system window hovering in front of me and then at the guys sitting in front of me.

“Hajin-ah, please.”

“Hyung, please. We really don’t have time to change the stage positions.”

“Hajin, have the parts been finalized yet? We’re running out of time!”

Urgency pressed in from all sides. My head throbbed.

“…I’ve finalized everything.”

“Okay, then please send us the revised parts—”

“No.”

“What?”

“I’m going to do it. All of Park Jaeyoung’s parts.”

After this, I’m going to tear everything apart. For real.

* * *

For the mentor evaluation, Miro Maze’s mentors arrived one by one. Miro’s trainer team, along with MC Seo Taeil and his network of connections who were recruited as the first mission’s key figures, gathered at the filming site for the script reading.

“Hey, Seo Taeil~ You’re about to become a great-great-grandfather.”

“Great-great-grandfather? My kids call me hyung.”

“Aren’t you being shameless, Mr. 13-years-since-debut?”

“Aren’t you the one who shouldn’t be talking, oh revered mother of girl groups? Don’t today’s kids not even know you’re from Themis?”

“Yeah. A post went up recently. Did you know Ria was in a girl group?”

Ria, the main vocalist of Renes’ girl group “Themis,” was also one of the key figures for this mission. She was Seo Taeil’s junior in terms of career but had maintained a long-standing friendship as one of the few remaining peers in the music industry.

“Anyway, thanks. I appreciate the quick yes.”

“What’s there to thank? It worked out since I was bored. Although it’s a bit bittersweet to think I’m now the type to appear on a program like this as a mentor.”

“The kids are good. Not just because they’re our kids, but they’re really good. Today’s going to be fun.”

Taeil spoke confidently, and Ria nodded. Oh, I read the evaluation notes on my way here.

“By the way, there was a kid who auditioned for our company, right? Seoyun-unni brought him in?”

“Ah, Hajin.”

“She’s been emphasizing how well he does today, so I’m curious. Is he really good?”

Ria’s question made Taeil hesitate for a moment, as if he was thinking deeply.

“He’s good, but… how should I put it…”

“What? What do you mean, don’t leave me hanging.”

“You’ll see for yourself. I saw he took the fewest parts again this time. I wonder if he adjusted them after I said something.”

Recalling the recent midterm evaluation, Taeil shrugged his shoulders. Ria, who wasn’t fully informed but could see that Taeil cared about this junior, was somewhat surprised. She then flipped through the evaluation notes on her desk to find the trainee in question.

“Really? I hope he does well. I heard he sang my song during the audition.”

“My song?”

“Yeah. Seoyun-unni emphasized so much to keep an eye on him today because there’s even a fan of his in the rookie development team. So I was curious… Huh?”

Ria, who had been chatting excitedly while flipping through the revised parts and evaluation notes, suddenly stopped talking. She tilted her head and looked at Taeil.

“Did you say his name was Hajin?”

“Yeah, Kang Hajin.”

“He has the most parts.”

“……? What are you talking about?”

Taeil, puzzled by Ria’s sudden remark, flipped through the papers in front of him again. And there he confirmed it—the name Hajin scattered throughout the entire lyrics sheet.

“What?”

“Right? Ah… someone must have fallen out. Wow, if he took all those parts, he must be really good.”

“Yeah. Jaeyoung must have dropped out…”

Taeil furrowed his brow as he realized what had happened.

This situation had the potential to make Hajin look like a power-abusing leader who overreached and ruined the team mission, a perfect target for criticism from viewers.

‘Even if he does well, he’ll only break even. If he fails, it’s all over. This is a total landmine.’

Taeil, who was secretly (no, actually quite openly) rooting for Hajin’s debut, sighed with concern as he watched the trainees entering the filming site. From their appearance, it was clear they had been under intense stress; their faces had thinned out, and there wasn’t a hint of puffiness, as if they hadn’t even had proper meals.

‘But since they’ve lost weight, the clothes fit them better.’

Taeil, unaware that this figure and physique were the result of Kang Hajin’s third life’s tear-filled military drills following his frustration at being re-drafted, nodded as he observed Hajin.

‘Does he look better with his hair down? He seems oddly…’

Even more handsome today. With his puffiness completely gone, the sharpness of his single-lidded eyes was maximized. It didn’t seem like he had heavy makeup on, but he stood out compared to the other trainees around him.

“Is that him? Kang Hajin?”

“Yeah. The third one.”

“His visuals are good too. But now I get why our company didn’t bring him in.”

“And you see why our company was so eager to bring him in, right?”

“Yeah, you guys really… like that kind of face.”

“Taeil-ssi, we’re about to start recording… Could you please take your position?”

“Ah, yes.”

At the staff member’s words, Taeil grabbed the cue cards and stood up, moving to the MC position, though it was still the center of the mentor seat. Soon, the surroundings quieted, and the lights were set up. Following the prompt from the teleprompter, Taeil delivered the lead-in.

“To reach the sun, soar high. The journey to become Miro’s Icarus begins now! The first mentor evaluation has begun. Trainees, are you ready to show your first daylight?”

“Yes!”

“Your voices are too soft. Are you ready?”

“Yes―!”

Satisfied with the loud response, Taeil nodded and continued with the next line. The next question was directed at Hajin.

“Kang Hajin from B-Team. You finished your first monthly evaluation in 10th place, just missing out on entering the Wings rank. How was your practice as the leader of B-Team?”

“……”

Hajin hesitated to answer, and Taeil sighed inwardly. The production team is really cruel. I’ve done plenty of broadcasts myself, but asking these kinds of questions always made me feel awkward.

In this situation, the trainee usually had nothing to say other than they barely missed the Wings rank but met good friends in the Feather rank and practiced well, and that they’d show something…

“Sniff.”

Huh? Sniff?