Debut or Die - Chapter 305

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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A Fatal Illness if I Don’t Debut – Episode 305
Even in the conference room that day, Kim Rae-bin’s tension was evident.
-It’s okay, Rae-bin. You’ve done well so far.
-Of course~ Even if it doesn’t work out, it’s not our ears that are broken! But there’s no way it won’t work, right?
-That’s right, Kim Rae-bin’s song is great!
-…Thank you.
Only after hearing the others’ encouragement did his complexion improve somewhat.
But when the results were finally revealed….
-So we’re going with 2, 4, and 5 then? Okay. So our Rae-bin’s number is….
-…3rd place, it was.
-…!
His arrangement didn’t even make the final rankings.
In other words, he was eliminated.
It’s almost laughable to explain it so casually, but no one had anticipated this.
‘Kim Rae-bin’s arrangement was eliminated in the final round….’
Until now, his arrangements had consistently made the final cut—you could practically call it a guarantee.
Of course, there were times when his work wasn’t fully adopted. But at least critical portions of his drafts were always reflected, and he participated steadily in the final production.
So naturally, the members had fallen into the habit of discussing the next project.
-Now our Rae-bin will handle the concert track arrangement beautifully too~
But this time, for the first time since our debut, he had failed.
‘And it was something he’d poured himself into for days without sleep.’
“….”
I scrolled through the “Concert Arrangement Blind Vote Results” document that had arrived via email, then turned off the screen.
Then I leaned back with my arms crossed.
‘There could be various reasons.’
Different direction, the AR Team had submitted better drafts that suited the taste, their work schedule was more generous.
But why now, of all times.
‘For Kim Rae-bin, this is basically a slump hitting him in the back right at the most critical moment.’
That said, immediately overturning the voting results would be foolish.
Given his personality, he wouldn’t be happy about it, and I couldn’t compromise quality by being considerate.
‘It would only worsen the situation without any benefit.’
But leaving things as they were was equally foolish.
“….”
I stood up from my seat.
After the morning concert meeting, I needed to find him, who had shut himself away quietly in his room.
But I didn’t need to go far. Kim Rae-bin was sitting on the living room sofa.
Beside him were Cha Yu-jin with a resolute expression, Sun Ah-hyun with a worried face, and Big Sae-jin looking troubled.
Cha Yu-jin held something out to Kim Rae-bin.
“Kim Rae-bin, eat this.”
Kim Rae-bin was still wearing his coat and socks. Clearly, they were holding back someone trying to leave.
“I’m not eating. I need to go to the Studio for a bit….”
“Why the Studio?”
“…!”
The guys I’d been talking with turned to look at me. Kim Rae-bin swallowed hard, then muttered in a low voice.
“If I don’t work on fixing the flaws, I won’t be able to produce results that satisfy people in the next attempt either….”
“Kim Rae-bin, you’ll do great next time! It’s okay if it doesn’t work once. No problem, it’s fine!”
But Kim Rae-bin neither bristled at nor agreed with Cha Yu-jin’s words.
“Whether it’s fine or not hasn’t been determined yet.”
He simply murmured quietly.
“But since I failed this time, the probability that it won’t be fine has increased. So to decrease that probability, I need to prepare more….”
“….”
“….”
A brief silence fell.
“Rae-bin, how about taking a break?”
“Y-yeah, that’s right. There’s still plenty of time before the Concert… we need to conserve our stamina…!”
Words tumbled out in rapid succession.
They must have thought that if they let him go to the Studio like this, something bad might happen.
‘I think so too.’
If he were just angry or frustrated, that would be one thing, but this looked like an obsessive compulsion.
Big Sae-jin sat right beside him and patted his shoulder.
“Even monkeys fall from trees sometimes, right? Let’s just think about our Stage and rest a bit~ Rest is important, you know?”
“….”
I needed to back them up here.
I opened my mouth.
“You’ve been running nonstop until now, so give your mind a rest. Muscles grow during rest too, and you haven’t rested nearly enough.”
“….”
“Rest.”
Eventually, Kim Rae-bin reluctantly nodded. I suppressed a sigh.
The timing wasn’t good.

* * *
Days passed.
Kim Rae-bin hadn’t gone to the Studio as promised, but his complexion remained poor. The shock of that first failure still hadn’t faded.
After spending busy days filming promotional videos for the tour and such, it was around the time things had finally settled down again due to several Stages still awaiting designs.
‘It’s quiet.’
Whether I hadn’t properly adjusted to the changed schedule or not, my body woke at dawn.
‘Maybe I’ll have some water.’
I quietly left the Room so as not to wake my roommate.
And I discovered something unexpected. Light leaking from outside the Living Room Balcony.
“…!”
The light source was too close to have come from beyond the window. It looked like the glow of electronic equipment….
‘An intruder?’
Could there really be some lunatic rappelling down from the Rooftop? Well, I suppose it’s possible.
I approached carefully without limiting the scope of my suspicions, ready to pull up emergency contacts if needed.
But what was outside was… a person, yes, but not a stranger.
“Kim Rae-bin.”
“…!”
Kim Rae-bin, who had been sitting on the tiles, spun around in startled surprise.
“Ah, hyung.”
The headphones on his head and the program displayed on the screen… anyone could tell he was working.
This bastard had snuck out to the Balcony at dawn and was crouching there working.
“What are you doing.”
“That is….”
“You’re working on a song.”
So that’s why he looked exhausted during the day.
No wonder his complexion wasn’t recovering. This stupid bastard….
I closed the Balcony door and strode inside, standing in front of him.
“I was….”
Kim Rae-bin hurriedly tried to put things away, but ended up frantically mashing the keyboard.
And the notebook window changed.
“…!!”
Kim Rae-bin was… monitoring while working simultaneously.
[Concert Arrangement Proposal Blind Vote Results]
A group email with the same subject line as the one I’d seen a few days ago.
‘This is….’
Given Kim Rae-bin’s recent state, it wasn’t as if he’d looked at that again to get stimulated and regain motivation—a productive thought.
He’d already been shocked enough as it was.
And… that email didn’t contain just the voting results.
To establish a rational combination direction, each number included anonymous explanations of why it was chosen and why it wasn’t.
But from the tone of voice, you could roughly guess anyway.
-Number 4 is the most fun
-2 and 5 are smooth and pleasant to listen to~ Fighting!!^^
-All were good, but 5 feels the most natural. I didn’t choose 1 and 3 because they seem like they’d be a matter of taste.
“….”
That’s why I couldn’t even make some pretentious excuse about how our four songs were actually the best but just got unlucky.
The members all voted together on that evaluation.
…And I had added one comment per number. Including one under Kim Rae-bin’s candidate song.
-The sound is excessive
“….”
Kim Rae-bin had been quietly reading that peer evaluation over and over these past few days, keeping it displayed beside him.
And among all those comments, not a single person said Kim Rae-bin’s song was good.
‘Damn it… seriously.’
Could he really be working on revisions based on this feedback at this ungodly hour?
“Listen.”
I sat down in front of him and met his eyes.
“Majority vote isn’t always right. The public might actually prefer your arrangement more.”
“….”
“Don’t worry so much about this result. It’s just one concert arrangement, after all.”
Kim Rae-bin suddenly replied.
“But you also judged that my arrangement was inferior in quality.”
“….”
“You gave the feedback that it was excessive, didn’t you, Park Moon-dae?”
“I’m not a composer, and you don’t need to blindly trust my opinion. Trust your own instincts over anyone else’s….”
“No!”
Kim Rae-bin lowered his head deeply.
“Your judgment about songs has always been objective and excellent. You’ve never been wrong, so I must have failed to arrange it properly….”
“….”
It felt like I’d been hit over the head.
So that’s what hit him even harder.
‘He’s noticed that my judgment about songs is unusually good.’
It was thanks to my trait, ‘Discerning Ear (A)’.
He probably hadn’t realized it was something abnormal like a skill, but as someone with good musical instincts, he’d picked up on it right away.
-Park Moon-dae’s choices are always excellent.
He thought he’d received harsh criticism from the evaluator whose objectivity he trusted most.
‘Sigh….’
My mouth tasted bitter.
I won’t lie. Even now, I don’t actually think Kim Rae-bin’s arrangement this time is that good.
‘For Kim Rae-bin, it was too generic.’
I would’ve thought it came from the AR Team.
And since this trait is something I obtained through my status window, it’s definitely guaranteed….
‘Wait, a status window?’
In that moment, a few cases I’d experienced flashed through my mind.
‘….’
I immediately pulled up Kim Rae-bin’s status window.
I’d hoped it wouldn’t be there, but a word I’d never seen before had been added at the very end.
!Abnormal Status: Stuck in Place
Damn it.
[Stuck in Place]
: Lost steps treading in the same spot
Backlash from ‘Trait: Maestro (S)’. Sensory degradation.
“I, I see… when you say excessive, do you mean the composition has too many elements? If I reduce it here a bit… could you perhaps tell me how this sounds? Is it better than before? Has it improved?”
“….”
This… this won’t do.
This guy’s mental state had clearly collapsed.
Now I understood. The reason Kim Rae-bin had seemed so resilient to criticism all this time was because he could immediately come up with alternatives and present them.
But now that entire system appeared to have crumbled. He’d become dependent.
‘Damn it….’
I took the headphones he offered but didn’t put them on. Instead, I asked back.
“…How does it sound to you?”
I heard Kim Rae-bin’s voice crack softly.
“I’m not sure…. I tried to reflect as much as possible the points people said they liked, hoping to deliver something worthy of their expectations… but I don’t know if I did it right.”
“Do what you want to do.”
“I… can’t even concretely figure out what I want to do anymore….”
I understood what he meant by that too.
‘The balance broke.’
I knew this guy had a humble side—he genuinely tried to accept others’ opinions.
But at the same time, he had faith in his own abilities.
An instinctive level of certainty: if he liked it, it was good; if he didn’t, it wasn’t.
So whether he filtered feedback on his own or interpreted it himself, he’d always absorbed it based on his own judgment.
A style of just running forward as he understood it, as inspiration struck him.
‘It’s his fundamental nature.’
Look at how he’d interpreted T-Holic’s words as family on his own.
But this time, things were different.
When praise beyond imagination came pouring in like mad from countless strangers, he’d been overwhelmed by that direct barrage.
‘He’d actually lost his conviction.’
The thought of not disappointing anyone, the pressure to deliver perfect results—it had crushed his joy.
And losing that my-pace personality meant the song lost its individuality.
Then when he received criticism, he panicked completely and became overly fixated on that evaluation. This was the first time in his life he’d experienced ‘failure of ability.’
‘A vicious cycle.’
I held back a curse.
After calming down the guy who looked ready to burst into tears at any moment, I confiscated his laptop.
“Stop this for now. There’s plenty of other work to do, and you’re capable enough. Just let it go.”
“….”
“I’m not saying this because I think you can’t do it, but if you keep this up and develop insomnia, things will get worse.”
“If I just finish one more….”
“No.”
I confiscated the laptop. After hesitating, I spoke.
“…If you’re doing this because it’s fun, then it’s not my place to interfere, but right now it’s destroying your condition. You’re not even sleeping.”
“….”
Kim Rae-bin hung his head low.
I patted his shoulder, only to realize I had absolutely no talent for this sort of thing.
‘Damn it.’
I needed a solution.

* * *
After that dawn, Kim Rae-bin did faithfully participate in the schedule.
But the vibrant energy from before was completely shattered.
And one of the guys who noticed came to my room and found the reason.
“Park Moon-dae, that’s his laptop, right?”
Big Sae-jin spoke seriously.
“Just let him do it. You’re going to break the kid like this.”
“….”
I ran my hand roughly through my hair, then answered a beat late.
With the solution I’d refined over several days.
“Then try to arrange a mountain lodge.”
“…? What?”
It wasn’t a joke.
I recalled the contents of Kim Rae-bin’s ‘abnormal condition’.
The backlash from the maestro trait that accelerated song production speed—something you could almost call industrial-grade.
The deterioration of Kim Rae-bin’s exceptional sensibilities.
‘In the end, the backlash came from obsessing over results and efficiency.’
Then it was simple.
Just have him do some unproductive creative work that had nothing to do with Testa’s achievements.
So I began planning a healing course of utterly useless utility—something I’d never even considered in my entire life.
A self-development retreat, to be precise.
“Let’s just… go to the mountains for a bit.”
Not as a destination.

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