A Blank Slate Regression for the Idol That Lost His Original Mindset - Chapter 248

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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 248

In an instant, a long line formed in front of the gymnasium. Getting caught up in it and standing in line, there were an incredible number of people ahead of me. It couldn’t even be compared to amusement park waiting lines.

Looking at the line stretching endlessly behind me with no end in sight, I shook my head with a disgusted expression. When would those people at the very end get their turn to audition?

[Yongcheol Hyung- Yo this is crazy] 7:30 AM

[Yongcheol Hyung- Today’s DTB Season 4 first preliminary, over 7,000 applicants]

[Yongcheol Hyung- When will they finish judging everyone? When I did Season 3 last year, even 3,000 people made the wait fucking long] 7:31 AM

[Yongcheol Hyung- At this rate, won’t they be judging until tomorrow morning?] 7:32 AM

Even after waiting 30 minutes, I alternated between looking at the still long line and Yongcheol Hyung’s messages.

That line has about 7,000 people in it…? DTB Season 3 must have really been a hit.

[You’re right, Hyung]

[The line isn’t moving] 7:33 AM

[Isn’t there like a judge privilege super pass or something?] 7:34 AM

At my reply showing I was already exhausted before even getting a number ticket, Yongcheol Hyung showed plenty of the reaction I wanted even through text.

[Yongcheol Hyung- What? You applied????]

[Yongcheol Hyung- G1 and I definitely can’t judge your section] 7:35 AM

[Yongcheol Hyung- And I’m the lowest among the producers right now]

[Yongcheol Hyung- How could someone like me give you a super pass?] 7:37 AM

Waiting indefinitely under the May sun, doubts flooded in about whether this was right. Was this telling me to overcome my slump with frustration?

So I could become a successful producer and be inside the gymnasium as a judge instead of outside?

A camera that had been interviewing someone in pajamas in the distance approached me. After seeing military uniform and now pajamas, my outfit felt like nothing.

“You appeared as a featuring artist in Season 3 and now you’re participating as a contestant in Season 4. Is there any particular reason or motivation?”

“It’s escapism. A brief escapism.”

I answered with a grin into the microphone in front of me. When asked to say something about my determination for future challenges, I slightly lifted my lowered beret and said.

“I’m just going to leave some graffiti behind.”

Recycling featuring lyrics is fucking sweet.

The production crew member acting as interviewer walked away with a satisfied expression. I gritted my teeth looking at the still endlessly long line ahead.

Just let anyone mock me for getting broadcast privileges in a diss battle. I’ll make them go home crying.

“You’re Group F. Please wait around the gymnasium until your number range is called.”

After waiting for a long time, I finally received a number ticket and glanced down at it.

‘Number 1501.’

They probably divided them into groups of 300 each. Would it be possible to audition today?

After another long and tedious wait, the 1000s finally entered the gymnasium waiting area.

Seeing Group C, the 800s, getting judged, it seemed quite possible we’d be judging until tomorrow morning as Yongcheol Hyung worried.

The first preliminary format was simple. You just had to perform the a cappella rap you prepared in front of the producer in charge of judging.

Taking a breath and leaning back in my chair, I watched the judging taking place. Standing in multiple lines, producers would move around their assigned sections, listen to raps, and decide on pass or fail.

Of course there were differences between producers, but perhaps because there were so many participants, they usually cut people off after an average of about 10 seconds.

Though 300 people gathered in one group, only a very few received passing necklaces.

“Fuck! Not even giving a beat and cutting me off after just 5 seconds, damn it! Ah, let me try again!”

Like the interview pajama guy, what excellent trolling. My complete edit-out would be quite possible. They need to show people like that on broadcast. Yes yes, of course.

Watching the participant who grabbed Moltic’s arm roughly and got furious after receiving a failure result, I felt much more at ease.

I could almost see the PD grinning widely.

Of course, after Moltic shook off his hand, that participant was dragged to the exit by security guards who had been waiting nearby.

Since I’d heard through the grapevine that quite a few people from my underground days had come out, I looked around at the people waiting in seats, hoping to find familiar faces.

Of course, finding acquaintances among the crowd of about 1,000 people wasn’t easy.

One person who made eye contact with me suddenly jumped up from his seat and strode toward me.

“Senior, hello!”

The person greeting me politely was a face vaguely in my memory. Was he the main rapper of an idol group one year junior to Rev?

And this junior had a history of hearing me say “Ah, that’s not how you rap. That’s not rap.” from me. Of course, not face-to-face but through the monitor in a music show waiting room.

Anyway, that means he’s an idol rapper like me. Glancing at the number tag on his shirt, it was 1375. So he’s Group E, the group right before mine.

Though we’re both idol rappers, the clothes he wore were the perfect standard of hip hop fashion. The thick chain around his neck and the snapback worn backwards at an angle added points to his overflowing hip hop spirit.

I was ready to get serious if he showed even the slightest hint of mockery at my outfit, but his tense face showed not a trace of ridicule.

When I gestured for him to be comfortable, he sat down awkwardly next to me, then glanced at the beret I was spinning with my finger and carefully spoke up.

“Um… Senior. Your hair looks a bit pressed down right now, so I think it would be better if you wore the beret.”

“Ah, really?”

Tch, I was going to try going without the beret at least. Clicking my tongue, I put the beret I’d taken off back on my head.

“So you came out too, Senior. I heard quite a few idol rappers are participating this time. So I wondered if you might come out too, and to meet you here like this.”

Seeming slightly less nervous, the junior chattered endlessly beside me while I nodded appropriately and occasionally responded just enough not to seem too indifferent.

“Senior, did you prepare your first preliminary lyrics well? Our group members all stuck together and somehow completed a 15-second piece.”

“I’m just going to freestyle, so I didn’t prepare anything separately.”

His overly sparkling eyes were a bit burdensome. Before I knew it, judging had finished up to the 1200s, and at the call for his group, he jumped up.

“Then I’ll go pass and come back! I hope you get good results too, Senior! I’ll be cheering for you!”

“Yes, go do well.”

I waved goodbye as both encouragement and farewell to his polite greeting until the end.

Despite going out so confidently, he stumbled over his lyrics and failed in 3 seconds, walking out dejectedly without receiving a passing necklace, and I silently sent him words of consolation.

Finally, it was time for Group F, which I belonged to.

Following the staff’s guidance, I left my seat and lined up to enter the gymnasium, where numerous cameras were visible ahead.

I was confident that among the Group F participants, I was by far the most eye-catching. Everyone else dressed hip or ordinary, but only I was clearly shouting “I’m an idol!”

Moreover, with the idol junior who came dressed hip hop style in the group right before, even I thought my screen time getting completely edited out was a lost cause.

“Please keep your blue jacket properly buttoned so your left arm tattoo doesn’t show. Or should I give you a cover sticker?”

The staff member handing me a microphone looked at the azalea tattoo on my left shoulder and reminded me. I shook my head sheepishly and pulled up the clothes that had slipped down to my shoulders neatly again.

While wearing the distributed microphone and having a brief waiting time, a man standing next to me approached hesitantly and shyly requested a photo, saying he became my fan during Slander Battle.

Starting with him, with mentions of my diss song and solo track and incidents from Slander Battle, I spent the short waiting time taking selfies with a string of photo requests, making it not boring.

mentioning [something], and in response to the continuous stream of photo requests that followed, they took selfies together and spent the short waiting time in an enjoyable way.

This is better than being completely disrespected or held back for being an idol rapper. Of course, from the second preliminaries onward, where the numbers would drop to around 100, it would be hard to expect this kind of admiration and goodwill.

BQ9, who was assigned to judge my section, was fucking strict as hell.

After listening to just 3 seconds of rap and cutting it off, he coldly brushed past the participant with only a brief “Yes, thank you for your effort,” striking even more fear into the hearts of the waiting contestants.

In the distance, I could see Yongchul hyung judging other contestants. Yongchul hyung, I’ll do so well that no one will even think to mention things like “connections” or “special treatment” – couldn’t you be the one to judge me?

I desperately called out to Yongchul hyung in my mind, but no miracle occurred, and BQ9 was getting closer to me as it finished its average 3.5-second examinations.

BQ9, who had just given a brief elimination comment to the person standing directly to my left, finally stood in front of me. After scanning my outfit, which clearly wasn’t hip-hop by anyone’s standards, BQ9 asked me.

“Did you dress like this because you think being an idol gives you some kind of advantage?”

I responded leisurely to BQ9’s matter-of-fact question, making sure not to sound too sharp, since I couldn’t tell just from hearing it whether he was being sarcastic or asking out of pure curiosity.

“It’s not a merit, but it’s not a demerit either.”

Even though it was somewhat forced, whether I dress like an idol or go all out with hip-hop vibes, my rap skills remain the same and unchanged, so what does my outfit have to do with anything?

I mean, it’s not like DTB gives bonus points for being an idol or anything.

He nodded and naturally moved on, as if he hadn’t brought it up to start a fight either.

“Let me see the rap.”

When the starting signal dropped, I began my freestyle rap with bold gestures without hesitation. The crowd that had gathered around me and the gazes directed at me from the audience couldn’t burden me.

Had it been 10 seconds since I started spitting freestyle verses? Instead of handing me the pass necklace, BQ9, who had been staring at me with an unreadable expression after I wrapped up my rap at just the right moment before cutting myself off, opened his mouth to speak.

It was unexpected.

I clenched my fists tightly with nervousness, feeling like “Yes, thank you for your hard work” was about to burst out of my mouth at any moment.

“I’m curious whether you’ll approach this as ED, the rapper from the underground scene, or as Yoon Eden, the idol rapper.”

I swallowed nervously at the gaze that stared at me as if demanding an answer.

What’s this? Don’t tell me whether I get the Pass Necklace in my hand depends on how I answer?

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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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