Grab the Regressor by the Collar and Debut - Chapter 462

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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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462. Boy’s Supremacy (4)
Tae-hyun had grown so accustomed to Ha-jin’s habit of occasionally losing a screw mid-stride that it now felt inevitable rather than surprising.
After exhaling a long sigh, Tae-hyun naturally attempted to translate Ha-jin’s abrupt question for Yoo Hyun, who stood bewildered.
“He’s asking if your stamina is a bit lacking.”
“Ah, I see. That’s how I should phrase it.”
Ha-jin nodded repeatedly as if he’d achieved some great revelation. Watching him, Seo Tae-hyun made a firm mental note that once they returned to the Dormitory, Ha-jin would need a strict media detox for a while.
“Um, well, that is….”
Only through Tae-hyun’s translation did Yoo Hyun grasp the intent behind the question, and he hesitated with a startled expression.
Yet it seemed Ha-jin hadn’t asked the question expecting an answer, for he continued speaking cynically, brushing his bothersome bangs back with his fingers despite Yoo Hyun’s reaction.
“Looking at this, you haven’t been a trainee for very long. I’ve been watching since the group song practice earlier, and it seems like your stamina is fundamentally lacking—or rather, on the weaker side. You’re the type whose energy drains quickly around crowds, unlike our Tae-hyun here.”
“….”
“But you don’t have his resourcefulness either, so it looks like you decided to ‘conserve as much stamina as possible during practice.’ Am I right?”
At this question posed as if he already knew the answer, everyone’s gaze turned toward Yoo Hyun.
Was Yoo Hyun really the weak-stamina type?
As they searched their memories, most wore puzzled expressions. The Survival Program training camp had always been grueling, and exhaustion was a universal affliction everyone experienced.
All eyes fixed on Yoo Hyun.
He bit his lip, which wouldn’t easily release, then quietly nodded.
“…Yes.”
Yoo Hyun answered in a voice that barely registered, then carefully lifted his gaze to meet Ha-jin’s as he continued.
“Honestly, my stamina seems to fall quite short compared to the other members.”
“But why didn’t you tell the coaches? If you’re the type who needs stamina recovery, getting a solid hour of sleep would be better than running through a hundred more practice rounds.”
“Everyone else was working so hard, and I didn’t want to be the only one….”
Yoo Hyun couldn’t bring himself to finish.
Watching Yoo Hyun lower his head like someone burdened by guilt, Ha-jin opened his mouth with a bittersweet smile, as if he understood the rest without needing to hear it.
“Hmm…. The Survival Program is really tough, isn’t it? It’s hard to know where to be honest and where to hold back when you’re in the thick of it.”
“….”
“No matter how steel-strong your stamina is, you can’t give 100% to every practice. Even Kairos intentionally holds back during the initial marking phase. Unless you’re an energizer, no one can dance at full power for 24 hours straight.”
“…Ugh.”
“Still, in an extreme situation like this, you’ll need more careful balance adjustments. Rather than cutting back on solo self-practice, during evaluations like this in front of the coaches, try to build up your stamina so you can operate at 80% capacity.”
“…Okay, yes.”
“After all, an idol group is a team, so it’s important to see how things harmonize with other members when I’m moving at full power or close to it. You understand what I’m saying, right?”
For the first time, someone had acknowledged Yoo Hyun’s struggles, and as Ha-jin spoke, Yoo Hyun burst into tears right there while earnestly nodding along.
The participant was known for having minimal emotional fluctuations and an expressionless face, so even the production staff were taken aback by this display.
“No, I didn’t mean to make you cry…. Someone grab tissues, please. Um, should we take a break? Let’s rest for 30 minutes and reconvene! Everyone, take five! Take five!”
As Yoo Hyun showed no sign of stopping his tears, Ha-jin frantically waved his arms in an attempt to shift the mood.
The members quickly gathered around Yoo Hyun with tissues in hand, and the camera directors’ movements grew busy, determined not to miss this moment.
Toward Ha-jin, who stood with crossed arms looking awkward for having made a stern kid cry, Tae-hyun threw a joke with playful intent.
“Why? Seeing a kid cry doesn’t feel like someone else’s problem?”
“…Didn’t I at least not cry that miserably?”
“Want me to find the clip of you crying and show it to you?”
“Ahem….”
Tae-hyun looked ready to pull up some clip titled “Crybaby Kang Ha-di’s Ugly Collection” at any moment, so Ha-jin hastily let out a fake cough to stop him.
The charisma from moments before had vanished entirely, replaced by Ha-jin’s usual slouched demeanor. Tae-hyun reached over and tapped his forearm.
“How did you know Yoo Hyun was struggling with stamina? Now that you mention it, I guess that could be it. He’s the type who never really shows what he’s feeling normally.”
Speaking in hushed tones so the other participants wouldn’t overhear, Ha-jin drained the iced tea the Staff Member had brought in one go, refilling his energy reserves before answering with the straw still between his teeth.
“He’s doing exactly the same things you do. Every break, he sits alone in a corner with his eyes closed. When the others try to talk to him, he barely manages a response. As time goes on, you can literally see his soul getting sucked out of him.”
“You figured out he was stamina-deficient just from that? He could just be the type who finds everything annoying.”
“If that were the case, he wouldn’t have the best grasp of the lyrics among the team members. He got good evaluations in the previous competition too. There’s no way someone who half-asses practice suddenly shows their potential only on stage. Something’s definitely going on.”
What Tae-hyun found most terrifying about Kang Ha-jin was precisely this—his observational ability.
That frighteningly sharp sense for reading people went beyond simply understanding someone’s personality and tendencies. It was accurate enough to catch not just the parts people wanted to hide, but even aspects they themselves hadn’t yet become aware of.
‘I just don’t understand why that observation skill never activates when it comes to himself….’
Despite being only a year apart in age, sometimes Ha-jin seemed like someone who’d lived ten years longer than him.
Even though Tae-hyun had more experience in society, Ha-jin appeared to have far more experience meeting people and dealing with them.
Tae-hyun often couldn’t understand Ha-jin, but there was one thing.
Just one thing he could be certain of.
“So?”
“…? What?”
“Feeling a bit better?”
That unstoppable workaholic hyung seemed happiest when his eyes sparkled like that and his mind was spinning at full speed.
At Tae-hyun’s question, accompanied by a shrug, Ha-jin’s blank expression gave way to a hollow laugh as he turned his head away.
“Well….”
“….”
“It’s nice not having to think about pointless things.”
Unused to having everything seen through by his younger brother, Ha-jin covered his mouth with an awkward smile, and his mood appeared noticeably more at ease than when he’d first arrived here.
* * *
I love this work.
“…I can’t help but admit it.”
The mid-point evaluation that started in the morning finally ended after 10 PM.
If it weren’t for the writers clutching their heads worried that Ha-jin might get sick at this rate, and Seo Tae-hyun insisting that the kids need time to breathe too, I would’ve pushed through until midnight.
He’d shoved me into that practice room without asking my opinion, but the moment the clock struck 10 PM, Seo Tae-hyun grabbed the back of my neck and dragged me out, insisting we call it a day. So I ended up returning to my room earlier than expected.
“Wow, I can see the stars.”
This room, which Seo Tae-hyun apparently uses during every training camp shoot, had a structure where the outside view was completely visible from the terrace. Even though it was in Gyeonggi Province, it was in the outskirts, and since the Training Center was built halfway up a mountain, all the stars were visible.
I tried to take a photo of those stars with my phone to send to Ha-won, but I realized my old smartphone—which I’d been using flawlessly for four years now—didn’t have the camera quality for that, so I quietly put it away.
Or at least, I tried to.
【Miro_Kairos_De-on ‖ Have you thought about it?】
If only a message from someone hadn’t popped up on my phone screen.
“….”
Lee Do-ha seemed to have made a real decision this time.
I knew those athletic types had good tenacity, but I honestly hadn’t expected him to push this hard with such endurance, so I was genuinely a bit nervous right now.
If I’d known this would happen, I should’ve eased up a bit when I was pressing Lee Yu-gun before.
Anyway, it was always that blasted moderation that caused problems.
【I don’t know, man】
My reply was short and concise.
Within these four letters lay a complex and intricate emotional landscape, but it didn’t matter—Lee Do-ha, who would read this response, wasn’t the type to obsess over hidden meanings anyway.
For him, only YES and NO mattered.
Everything before making a decision was merely process to him.
【Miro_Kairos_De-on ‖ Got it】
See? Concise.
Leaving that simple reply behind, I turned to wash up.
They’d said there would be pretty much everything in the room, and true to their word, the bed was stocked with clothes for me to change into, toiletries, and skincare products—everything.
Seo Tae-hyun wouldn’t have bothered bringing clothes that were far too large and didn’t match his image, so this had to be a gift the Stylist left before she and Kwon Wook departed this morning.
“….”
So….
So if I’m being completely honest while I’m alone like this.
I still didn’t have confidence in myself, and that seemed to be the truth.
-What are you afraid of? That the results won’t be good?
On the way to the Dormitory, Seo Tae-hyun asked with genuine curiosity.
-If you’re really burdened by the performance, you could always release it unofficially like a mixtape and test the waters. I’m curious what a song made entirely from your own sensibilities would sound like.
Well, this was a different kind of issue than worrying about performance.
It wasn’t so much that I was uncertain whether I could do well, but rather….
“…ugh, I have no idea.”
It was more that I had no idea what kind of song I should even make.
Putting a roof and paint on a foundation that Do Ha-na or others had built so it looked better was completely different from starting from design and diving into composition myself.
And I was someone who, at least in composition, hadn’t drawn out the image inside me for a very long time.
“Performance and direction would be easier….”
I had confidence in stage direction.
It was something I’d done and observed for quite a while, even after giving up being an idol.
Singing, dancing, rapping—I’d always done those things anyway, whether professionally or just belting out songs at a Coin Karaoke for a mood boost.
But composing was different.
In the previous timeline, there was only one song I’d composed entirely of my own volition.
Through all that time, just one song.
‘…and even that never saw the light of day.’
That first song from back then, whose melody I could barely remember now, circled awkwardly in my mouth.
Thinking I wouldn’t even manage to wash up properly if I kept this up until Seo Tae-hyun returned from his meeting, I stopped thinking and stood up. Then I grabbed clothes to change into, entered the bathroom attached to the room, and forcefully turned on the faucet to at least wash my face.
“Ack!”
…and water came pouring out forcefully from the showerhead mounted above my head.
And it was freezing cold!
“Is this seriously real!?”
The water pressure was so strong that even though I’d only turned it on briefly before shutting it off, my hair and clothes were already soaked through. This wasn’t like a cold water shock to clear your head—this was more like cold water ablution for spiritual discipline.
In any case, the fact that my mind snapped to attention meant it was working.
Since I was already soaked through, I was about to undress and wash up right away when it happened.
Knock, knock—
“…?”
Someone was clearly knocking on the door.
Seo Tae-hyun, who held the room key, wouldn’t be knocking, and if it were the Production Team, they wouldn’t knock and then stand quietly for so long.
Wondering if they’d knocked on the wrong door, I approached the entrance, and heard the knock again. Judging by how much deliberation this seemed to require, there were also footsteps from outside the room—the sound of someone pacing anxiously.
“Who is it?”
“…Oh.”
After some hesitation, I opened the door to find a participant who’d apparently just finished showering, standing there with a startled expression.
It was Park Young-ha, the eldest among the contestants and someone vying for the leader position—the very person I’d pointed out for his mistakes during today’s first practice.
“Senior, hello. I’m sorry for interrupting your rest.”
“Oh, no. I was just about to shower anyway…. What brings you here?”
Having served in the Military early, he showed no hesitation in using formal speech toward me, despite being younger than him.
Though his sudden visit caught me off guard, I was curious why Park Young-ha, who should have been doing self-directed practice by now, had come to our room at this hour.
When I asked his purpose, Park Young-ha rolled his eyes as if pondering for a moment, then carefully broached the subject.
“Um, by any chance….”
“…?”
“Do you offer counseling consultations?”
“…Pardon?”
Thinking I’d misheard such an unexpected request, I asked again, and Park Young-ha, maintaining a respectful demeanor, carefully continued while gauging my reaction.
“Tae-hyun senior told me that anyone with concerns about practice should come find you, and he gave me your room number…. It felt like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, so I gathered my courage and came here.”
That insufferable juice-squeezing machine, Seo Tae-hyun, had clearly decided to wring every last drop out of me around the clock without mercy.
Honestly, I wanted to turn him away and say I wasn’t in the mood for this right now, but Park Young-ha standing before me looked far too earnest and desperate—like someone who’d summoned tremendous courage just to get here.
‘How could I possibly refuse that….’
Watching Park Young-ha, whose hands were even trembling, I sighed and glanced around the room.
It seemed like a genuinely serious concern, but there was nowhere suitable in the room to have such a conversation, and I suddenly remembered that the Training Center’s Snack Bar operated autonomously until 2 AM.
I roughly draped a towel over my still-dripping wet hair, grabbed my wallet from the nightstand, and stepped outside.
Then, toward Park Young-ha, who was looking up at me with a bewildered expression, I smiled as warmly as I could manage.
“Do you like hot bars?”
“Y-yes?”
“I’ll buy you one. Let’s grab a late-night snack.”
“…Oh, th-thank you so much!”
Kang Ha-jin’s first mobile consultation booth.
…Forcibly opened for business.

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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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