Grab the Regressor by the Collar and Debut - Chapter 137

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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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137
. A Small Catalyst (9)
When I slowly turned my head, it was fortunately(?) Si-woo looking at me with eyes that seemed to ask, ‘What on earth is this guy?’
“Ha, damn it…. Thank you….”
“I really find it difficult every time you’re like this.”
I’d tapped him awake from his sleep, and he’d startled loudly as if he’d seen a ghost. Then he’d grabbed my hands and thanked me profusely without hesitation.
Si-woo let out a soft laugh at Ha-jin’s unpredictable behavior and withdrew his hands from the grip.
He glanced at his watch for a moment, checked on Ha-ru and Gong Seok, who still showed no signs of waking, then tilted his head toward the door and asked Ha-jin.
“I’m going to the Convenience Store to grab some coffee. Want to come with me?”
“The Convenience Store? Uh, well….”
At the sudden suggestion to go out, I rubbed my stiff neck muscles and paused to think.
‘Ah, the Convenience Store at this hour…. It’s dangerous.’
Not physically dangerous—psychologically dangerous.
The pleasantly cool night breeze, the quiet nighttime streets, the leisurely pace of walking through them.
With these three elements falling perfectly into place, the mouth of an F-type person like me (even 51% F is still F) becomes dangerously loose.
‘I’m the kind of person who, finding silence awkward, will blurt out any conversation topic that comes to mind, and end up revealing even the number of chopsticks in my house.’
Once I start talking like that, I inevitably end up sharing secrets the other person would regret hearing, interesting romantic histories of people around us, and embarrassing stories about myself…
‘Wait? Isn’t that a good thing?’
If I play my cards right, I might even get to hear the hidden true feelings of this fortress-like hyung, right?
Though Dan Ha-ru had emerged as a strong candidate for the position of leader, there was still a need to learn more about Si-woo.
I wanted to reduce variables like what happened with Yoo Gun, and I couldn’t keep struggling with Si-woo indefinitely when his debut was almost certain at this high probability.
And….
‘While we’re talking, maybe I can ask about Seok-i hyung too.’
Even without Thirteen saying anything, I was sufficiently concerned about the issues between these two.
In fact, I was essentially the one who had caused this endless competitive survival broadcast to happen in the first place.
While their stress wasn’t solely because of the Miro Maze, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d made them experience burdens and pressure they didn’t need to bear.
[System Alert: Sudden Quest!]
Content: The foundation of an Idol Group is teamwork!
Clear away uncomfortable feelings between team members,
and take time to hear each other’s true hearts.
Perhaps it might become an opportunity to reflect on my own heart?
Rewards for Success:
– Beautiful harmony♬ from fantastic teamwork between members
– Unexpected fortune ^♡^
– One-time negation of side effects upon entering the Unconscious Space
Penalty for Failure:
– Decreased morale due to disharmony among team members.
Detecting my conflicted heart, Thirteen, who had been lying low, promptly appeared with the carrot dangling before me.
So I think about it every time, but no matter how I look at it, this bastard seems to be running an idol development simulation with me.
Still, with rewards like this, I judged there was nothing to lose, so I promptly accepted Si-woo’s proposal.
“Sounds good. Let’s go.”
“…Why are you being so determined about this?”
Jeong Si-u’s expression turned reluctant, but Kang Ha-jin paid no mind, his eyes gleaming with ambition.
Today, using this early morning mood as an excuse, I’m going to thoroughly grill that hyung for information!
* * *
But as always, it was I who ended up being interrogated instead.
‘This damn charm of his is the real problem.’
Sitting on a white plastic chair in front of the Convenience Store, I clutched my head, consumed by self-reproach.
During the walk from the Dormitory to the Convenience Store, I had spilled everything to Si-woo—from elementary school anecdotes to the most recent movie I’d enjoyed.
Completely and utterly exposed!
And I’d done it willingly!
“Here you go.”
“Oh, thanks.”
Si-woo emerged from the Convenience Store carrying two cups of instant noodles, each topped with a hot bar. I accepted one, snapped the wooden chopsticks apart, and immediately cracked open the lid to loosen the noodles.
“…You just poured the water.”
“Ah, I can’t stand soggy noodles.”
“That’s quite an extreme palate.”
I slurped down the loosened noodles in the scalding broth.
Si-woo watched me eat the ramen—which looked more crispy than undercooked—with apparent relish, and laughed once more as if he still couldn’t comprehend my tastes.
Then he pulled out his phone and showed me a photograph.
This was the real reason he’d dragged me out under the pretense of getting coffee, and why we were eating instant noodles at this ungodly hour under the excuse of being hungry.
I took another bite of ramen while checking the phone screen.
On the display was a scanned image of an old sheet of music.
“What is this?”
“A song I’m considering for our mashup candidate, but I’m uncertain about it.”
“Oh. But this looks like handwritten sheet music? Don’t tell me it’s your own composition, hyung?”
“No. It’s a song my father wrote.”
“Pfft—! Cough, cough!”
“You always manage to be surprised at the most unexpected moments.”
You’re always catching me off guard at the most unexpected points.
Unaware of what the future held, I gulped down the ion drink I’d bought along with the noodles and immediately spat it back out, accepting the handkerchief Si-woo offered me.
And I was surprised once more.
“…You carry a handkerchief with you?”
“Ah, it’s a habit.”
Si-woo replied casually, then tapped his phone once more where it sat on the Convenience Store’s outdoor table.
“My father was an obscure singer. This is one of the songs he wrote back then, and it seems to fit well with this piece.”
“Ah…. I see, I see.”
And knowing that his father had passed away from illness four years ago, I found myself unable to lift my head. I simply fixed my gaze on the phone on the table, burying my face.
“Actually, I thought of this song from the moment you first brought up the mashup idea…. But I’ve been hesitant about it.”
“About what?”
“…I don’t want to reveal that it’s a song my father wrote. I’d rather not talk about him on broadcast anyway.”
“I see.”
Ha-jin nodded slightly in understanding, his gaze still fixed on the worn sheet music on his phone screen.
Though I hadn’t actually played it through, when I’d hummed the lyrics while roughly imagining the melody from the notation in my head, it did seem to fit this week’s theme quite well.
“The lyrics are beautiful. …They’re so tender.”
“I love these lyrics too. It’s a letter he wrote to me. He told me to unfold it whenever life became difficult. That’s why I thought it might match our theme even better, so I wanted to ask what you thought.”
“Well, I think it’s good. But aren’t you uncomfortable with it, hyung?”
“Since you like it too, I’m a bit conflicted now.”
Si-woo, still wearing a faint smile, gazed into the distance with an expression tinged with melancholy. His sorrowful eyes and the strands of hair swaying gently in the early summer breeze made one forget the season entirely.
Ha-jin set down the wooden chopsticks he’d been holding and carefully asked, observing Si-woo’s emotions.
“…May I ask? Why don’t you want to reveal that it’s your father’s song?”
Si-woo fell silent for a moment, as if savoring the cool breeze.
Then he removed the baseball cap he’d pulled down low in case anyone might see, placed it on the table, and spoke.
“Well, you can probably guess, but it’s not a pleasant story.”
“If it’s difficult to talk about, you don’t have to.”
“No, it’s not that secretive or complicated, so it’s fine. …I’m just borrowing this kind of atmosphere to talk about it for once, you know.”
Maybe I’ve been wanting to talk about it if I could just borrow an atmosphere like this.
Ha-jin pretended not to quite hear Si-woo’s quiet murmur and waited for what came next.
In any case, along with the sentimental thought that all of this was the problem with this rumbling sound.
“You know my mother is a pianist, right?”
“How could I not?”
“It’s a clichéd story. A famous pianist wife and an obscure singer husband. The wife was too remarkable, and the husband was exhausted for too long. My father hated how small he became in front of my mother, and my mother suffered seeing the husband she loved shrink because of her.”
“….”
“In the end, a marriage blessed by all ended in divorce after twelve years. The son left behind followed his mother for financial stability, but…ultimately chose his father’s acoustic guitar instead of his mother’s piano.”
Si-woo spoke of his own story very calmly, as if recounting someone else’s tale.
Though much was omitted from the account, Ha-jin could understand from that alone why Si-woo didn’t want to talk about his father on broadcast.
‘Journalists would have a field day writing fiction with this.’
With just the single fact that his father had been an “obscure singer,” there was far too much material for people to gossip and speculate about.
Ha-jin fully understood Si-woo’s dilemma.
And he also understood why Si-woo had brought up his father’s story to him now.
Anticipating his intent, Ha-jin tapped his fingers on the table and chose his words carefully.
Si-woo brushed the baseball cap with his fingertips and shrugged.
“So, I’m a bit conflicted.”
“…What if you just said your older brother wrote it? It looks like an unreleased track anyway.”
“I’ve thought about that too, but that has its own uncomfortable feeling. This is the only unreleased song my father ever had. His other songs didn’t really become hits either, but…”
Maybe this could be the only chance for my father’s song to air on broadcast and be heard by people for the first time.
At the added remark, Ha-jin also exhaled deeply.
I could suggest finding a different song instead, but Si-woo already seemed to have leaned toward wanting to use this one.
“Then, how about waking up the other team members in the morning and asking them before filming starts?”
“The other members?”
“I actually like this song, but Haruna and Seok-i might have chosen something different anyway. I’ll think it over tonight too—how we can use it well without bringing any shame to Father’s name.”
At my words about wanting to think it through together, Si-woo’s expression softened slightly as he nodded in agreement.
“Brother, but could you sing the chorus a bit? Just looking at the sheet music, the song seems really nice.”
“I’ll sing it properly with the guitar tomorrow. It’s been so long since I’ve sung it, my memory’s a little fuzzy.”
“So you learned guitar from Father?”
“Yeah. How did you end up learning piano?”
“Well, when you’re part of a church worship team, you basically pick up most instruments to some degree.”
The conversation continued in an atmosphere that had grown considerably more comfortable.
After we shared more stories about each other for a while longer, Si-woo too was thoroughly immersed in that early morning sentiment, leaning back in his chair.
That’s when I carefully broached the subject.
“…Brother. Can I ask you something?”
“Sure. Go ahead.”
“Is Seok-i… having a hard time?”
It was a question that would extend this early morning a little longer.

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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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