A Blank Slate Regression for the Idol That Lost His Original Mindset - Chapter 204

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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A Regression Guide for Idols Who Lost Their Initial Intentions Episode 204

After finishing the call with Gyeon Hajun, I tried to squeeze out my memories, but the last scene in my head was just Gyeon Hajun supporting Ryu Jaehee while saying something to me. That was all.

I realized why my friends clicked their tongues calling me a tough bastard when I had blacked out.

If even Gyeon Hajun couldn’t stop me and had to send me to my family home, just how persistent was my homing instinct?

I looked around my room, which I was seeing for the first time in a long while, both before and after my regression.

The room wasn’t much different from when I lived here during my school days.

Even though I hadn’t come to my family home for quite a long time, and the room had spent long years as an empty room without an owner, it maintained its cleanliness without a speck of dust, even if it lacked the warmth of someone living there.

The headsets I used to collect as a hobby, which had now become outdated models, and the shoe boxes containing limited edition sneakers from various makers that I had eagerly collected were still there.

I had once taken these shoe boxes with me when moving my stuff to the dormitory, but they became nothing but a burden taking up space in the cramped semi-basement dorm, so I brought them back to my family home.

Now that our dormitory has gotten quite a bit bigger, it seems like I could bring them back, but should I take them or not?

I thought I had forgotten everything, but seeing the objects filled with memories brought back recollections that came alive, making me chuckle as I looked around again to see if there was anything that might revive more memories.

Past the photo of Baduki preciously placed in a frame, I noticed the foreign and Korean hip-hop CDs and LPs collected in abundance in one corner of the bookshelf. These were things I had bought steadily while saving my allowance.

Most of the foreign hip-hop was West Coast hip-hop.

For me, who valued beats, East Coast hip-hop with its strong smooth feel wasn’t really my style.

I still vividly remember the shock and thrill I felt when I first encountered authentic American West Coast hip-hop through Tupac’s on a friend’s mp3 player in my first year of middle school, after only listening to the trendy cattle-herding vocal style R&B-influenced domestic music of that time.

Starting with that, I expanded my range to include foreign hip-hop and listened casually, then got seriously into hip-hop with Dr. Dre’s .

The adolescent vanity of thinking it was cool not to follow the mainstream probably played a part, but for me at that time, hip-hop was the first thing I had ever encountered that I could ‘immerse myself in’ and it was my dream.

Then I naturally turned my attention to domestic hip-hop, covering everything from overground to underground. That’s how I nurtured my dream of becoming a rapper.

I found an old notebook wedged between the CDs and LPs and pulled it out to open it.

It was a lyrics notebook I had scribbled in during middle and high school classes.

It was good because when I was writing lyrics, it looked like I was studying, so the teachers didn’t really bother me.

But I did get caught and hit on the head with the notebook a few times.

Wondering if there were any decent lyrics, I flipped through the notebook and clicked my tongue at traces of the past when system restrictions didn’t exist.

“This verse is plastered with profanity. I even matched punch lines and rhymes with swear words. Seriously.”

If I sang according to these lyrics even once, my initial intentions level would become 0 and it seemed like I could regress again.

Maybe it’s because I’ve aged, but while I thought these lyrics were cool when I wrote them back then, now the profanity-filled lyrics didn’t seem particularly cool.

No, I stopped writing verses with vulgar language from when I was fifteen, a bit older.

Instead, memories of that time came back vividly. The spirit and recklessness that were only possible in those days.

In my second year of middle school, uploading a mixtape I had worked on all night to Music Cloud with a pounding heart.

Yongcheol Hyung contacted me after listening to it and scouted me for his crew.

For the first time belonging to something called a crew, working on a crew compilation mixtape, and even standing on a cypher stage once following the hyungs.

Since I had followed the standard underground rapper route like that, honestly, it didn’t really hit me when people dismissed me as just an idol rapper.

While I was lost in memories, I heard a knock-knock sound by my ear, then Mom opened the door and said to me.

“If there’s anything you want to take from home, pack it all up. Dad says he’ll drive you to the dormitory.”

“Ah, no thanks. I’ll just take a taxi.”

The only thing I needed to pack was this one songwriting notebook.

As for the limited edition shoe boxes, I can bring them later when we move to a dormitory where we each have our own room and stack them in my room then.

If I bring them now when we’re constantly changing rooms, they’ll just become a burden.

I packed the notebook and went out to the living room, picking up Podo who was circling around my feet.

“Podo, I’ll come again, so don’t forget hyung’s face.”

Actually, I still don’t know if Podo is a genius dog who didn’t forget my face after not seeing me for 3 years, or if he just likes all people like this.

I just believe it’s the former because that seems better for my mental health.

After saying goodbye to Podo, it was time to return to the dormitory. I wanted to stay at least one more day, but I had no choice because I had a mountain of things to do.

I strongly expressed my opinion that I would take a taxi to the dormitory, but in the end I couldn’t beat Mom and obediently got into Dad’s car.

“How are things these days? Is it livable?”

“It’s busy but better than when we debuted. Back then it was really…”

“Yeah, I had a hard time too because I didn’t know what to say to your grandfather back then.”

Light conversation at the level of ordinary father and son went back and forth.

If you ask whether I didn’t receive any help from my parents until debut, that’s not the case at all.

When I kicked away my debut group position at New Born and left, the contract and financial issues that could have led to messy legal battles were cleanly resolved with Dad’s help.

The meal allowance LnL gave during trainee days was barely enough to go to a home-cooking restaurant near the dormitory, so I added the allowance I received from home to vary my meal menu and survive.

When I announced that I would become an idol, unlike Grandfather who was furious saying I was doing entertainer stuff, my parents readily gave me permission.

I sometimes think it’s probably because the memory of me lying down in the living room throwing a fit in my first year of high school saying I was going to drop out to become a rapper was so strong.

They judged that a high school graduate idol was better than a middle school graduate rapper.

And that was a painful memory for me too.

I threw a fit saying what business was it of theirs in my life when Mom and Dad weren’t going to live my life for me, then got beaten by Dad with a golf club grip on a rainy day to the point where dust would fly, so literally all my bones hurt.

And that beating incident was also well-packaged as hardships and adversity I had to overcome for hip-hop in one of my underground-era mixtapes.

“Be considerate of each other among team members too. How can you expect to only deal with people who get along well with you in social life? Everyone lives by yielding to each other and being careful.”

“I’m doing that.”

I replied in a grumpy voice. Even if Dad didn’t say such things, the system cuts my initial intentions level harshly whenever I say anything, claiming I’m inciting discord, so I’m forced to live like that.

Dad sighed deeply and lamented.

“I’m really worried. Your mom and I raised you too preciously, always saying ‘oh my, oh my.’ We should have let you experience failure and taught you how to kill your personality a bit.”

“Beating me with a golf club grip, beating me with a back scratcher, making me do push-ups – that’s not ‘oh my, oh my, preciously’ at all.”

Anyone listening would think I was an only child who never got hit once and was raised with ‘oh what a good boy.’ The loving discipline is still vivid in my memory.

“Anyway, I wonder who you didn’t take after your mom, you won’t lose in words.”

“But Mom always says I take after Dad?”

I shrugged and leaned back comfortably in the passenger seat. I don’t know about personality, but it was certain that my appearance didn’t take after just one side.

Dad had a heavy impression and Mom had a haughty impression, but I, their child, had a fierce thug-like appearance.

If you look at each feature, there are parts of Mom’s face and Dad’s face, but it’s an impression born from a strange combination of them.

Before I knew it, the car arrived in front of the dormitory. Just before opening the car door and getting out, Dad said to me.

“Make sure to come for New Year’s. The grandson should at least show his face once.”

“Huh, wasn’t showing my face at the 80th birthday party enough?”

When I stuck my tongue out, Dad got angry telling me to delete that damn filial piety diss rap or whatever right now.

“I didn’t upload it! Why would I upload it if I was crazy!”

I left behind a desperate explanation and hurried up to the dormitory.

“Oh, did Eden Hyung with homing instincts come?”

As soon as I opened the dormitory door, Ryu Jaehee, who was watching TV in the living room, greeted me with giggles. I put on a crooked smile and shot back.

“Yeah, youngest member who’s a crying faucet when drunk. You cried so much but your eyes didn’t swell up?”

“Still, I didn’t go outside the house, so I think I have better drinking habits than you, hyung.”

“This guy is teasing his hyung.”

I gave Ryu Jaehee a light headlock, no, neck massage. It was regrettable that it wasn’t as easy as before now that he had gotten taller.

While someone had so much to do that he couldn’t stay long at his family home after a long time and came right back, I looked around swiveling my head to find the members who weren’t showing their faces except for Ryu Jaehee and asked.

“By the way, except for you, are the others still not up? It’s almost 11 AM now?”

Hajun hyung is up. Hajun hyung made hangover soup so we two ate it, and Doby hyung and Yehyeon hyung are still sleeping. Doby hyung just didn’t get up, but Yehyeon hyung woke up this morning and threw up right away, then rolled on the floor groaning from his hangover, took hangover medicine and barely fell asleep again.”

“Wow, that guy should absolutely never drink until he blacks out.”

Gyeon Hajun, who came out of his room after hearing my voice, scolded me with a face that looked annoyed for some reason.

“Why are you talking like it’s someone else’s story? You’re the same, Eden. Never drink until you’re drunk.”

“I felt it very keenly this morning when I opened my eyes next to the doghouse.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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