Grab the Regressor by the Collar and Debut - Chapter 494

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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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494. Mission: Impossible! (3)
The NMA had begun.
This NMA was scheduled to run over two days, and as it happened, Kairos was booked to perform on both days.
Tember
@tember04
Got the kids’ NMA schedule sorted!
-Day 1: Kairos Main Stage
-Day 2: 2 Special Stages + Tae-hyun’s collaboration stage with the Socheon2 Group
The special stages might be pre-recorded?
For those planning to attend both days, take note~
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Tember
@tember04
Probably because the Sbn stages are on day 2
That’s why it ended up this way
If that’s the case, why didn’t they match the kids’ main stage to day 2 as well
Ntv, you sneaky ones…^^
When are you going to stop using our kids as bait for viewer ratings?? Haha
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In reality, staying overseas for an awards ceremony cost money, so from the company’s perspective, it was far better for their artists to finish their stages on the same day and return together. No matter how stellar the Ntv lineup was this time, Kairos had enough clout to easily secure an early slot on day 2.
Miro couldn’t possibly be unaware that the reason Kairos’s performance was deliberately split across two days was to bolster the relatively weaker day 1 lineup compared to day 2.
“But why did the Executive Director approve it? Doesn’t that hurt us?”
Before stepping onto the red carpet, Kang Ha-jin, who was doing a final appearance check, asked Kwon Wook sitting beside him.
He even grumbled that if Kairos’s main stage had been on day 2, Lee Do-ha would have had a whole extra day to practice.
“Ah, well… that’s… it’s kind of an adult matter, you know…”
“…?”
“The broadcasting station said they’d cover all your expenses for the first day. Everything from plane tickets to accommodation, including the staff.”
“…Seriously?”
“You can’t mention this anywhere else, got it? This is confidential.”
Watching Kwon Wook whisper like he was sharing a secret, Ha-jin nodded half-heartedly as if he understood roughly what was going on.
In other words, they’d paid to bring them in.
But it didn’t seem like the deal would have been struck for just that much.
“And what else?”
“Huh? What else?”
“They wouldn’t have had you perform both days just to cover some expenses and damage our reputation. What else did you negotiate?”
The way Ha-jin spoke, he sounded like someone who already knew exactly what had happened.
Kwon Wook found Ha-jin frightening at moments like this. Here was a guy barely in his early twenties, yet he felt like someone who’d seen every underbelly of the industry and climbed his way up from there.
Kwon Wook blinked in confusion and continued speaking. Ha-jin was still adjusting his tie while looking in the mirror.
“Ah, well… this is really confidential, but…”
“Is there anything we do that isn’t confidential?”
“We’re receiving an award. What was it… the New Generation Award of the Year? The name was pretty unique. Anyway, that’s why we’re here today.”
So they’re going to fill in the gap in our reputation themselves?
Ha-jin let out a dry chuckle as he finished tying his necktie.
I’d known for a while that this award ceremony was basically a game of blind man’s bluff, but…
“Is that okay though? It’s still an award.”
“No, don’t misunderstand. It’s an award given based 100% on judging criteria—literally including this year’s album and digital release performance—to groups in their third year or less who’ve made a mark. You’re not the only ones receiving it; I think about three teams are getting it. Honestly, based on your performance, it would be stranger if you didn’t get it. You’re just receiving an award you were going to get anyway, today.”
“…I see. Ntv played this pretty smartly.”
If only groups in their third year or less could receive the award, it made perfect sense to present it on Day 1 rather than Day 2, which would be crowded with more senior artists.
At Kwon Wook’s suggestion to think through an acceptance speech beforehand, I nodded half-heartedly while adjusting the fit of my suit jacket. No matter how I thought about it, the suit’s tailoring was too nice to wear just once on the red carpet.
“Oh, Ha-jin. And…”
“…?”
Kwon Wook, who had stood up to throw away the paper cup he was holding, suddenly walked toward me with long strides, lowering his voice. His manner was more cautious than when he’d been sharing all those confidential details earlier, and for the first time, I turned my gaze from the mirror toward him.
Kwon Wook’s large frame, standing close beside me, half-obscured my reflection.
“That’s… okay, right? Do-ha…?”
At Kwon Wook’s careful question, his hands clasped together, I opened my mouth slightly with an “ah.”
My gaze drifted across the members scattered throughout the waiting room.
Lee Do-ha, sitting alone on the sofa lost in thought with his hands clasped and eyes closed, and Lee Yu-gun, who was urgently consulting with the choreography director across from him, both came into view simultaneously.
“…I’m not really sure myself.”
I let out a laugh like a sigh, trying to hide my turbulent emotions, and shrugged my shoulders.
The buttons on my suit jacket, which I normally never fastened, were buttoned tightly today—a silent testament to my state of mind.
* * *
As mentioned earlier, Day 1’s stage consisted mostly of newly debuted rookies and junior-level teams.
Similarly, most of the awards presented were popularity votes received by rookies, but among them, the most prestigious award was still the Rookie Award, which could only be received once after debut.
-Thank you, thank you…!
-No, we really didn’t think we’d get it. I mean, I really can’t think of anything right now, um…
And currently, on stage, the members of the team that had just won the Rookie Award stood unable to hide their tears, clutching the microphone.
Do-ha, watching the scene on the monitor in the backstage area, quietly raised his hand and applauded alone. On the screen, Phase’s leader, Kim Won-ho, was captured with his head bowed, unable to speak as he wept openly.
Once this Rookie Award presentation ended, it would soon be Kairos’s turn on stage.
“What, Kim Won-ho’s group got it?”
“Yeah.”
“Haha, look at him crying. I should tell him to buy us all a meal later.”
Yu-gun, who had an earpiece on at one side, hurried over upon seeing this and pulled out his phone from his pocket.
Even as Yu-gun repeatedly snapped photos of Kim Won-ho’s tearful face filling the screen, Do-ha simply stared at the monitor without moving.
“Kairos, standing by!”
At the FD’s announcement that the stage was imminent, Yu-gun turned away with a reluctant expression. Do-ha, who had been lost in thought, had to move a moment later.
“The passage is dark ahead. Please be careful.”
As I followed the staff member’s guidance through the long, dark corridor, I found myself sinking into memory.
It was yesterday evening—something that made my chest tighten every time I recalled it.
-Is hyung really pushing my solo right now out of instinct as a planner? Or…?
Or is it your greed, hyung—wanting to find a breakthrough even at the cost of all this?
I hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on their conversation.
Do-ha simply wanted to talk with Ha-jin, and when I went looking for him belatedly, their discussion hadn’t quite finished yet.
When I saw Ha-jin unable to deny it to Ha-ru, I quietly turned back toward the tent. I could sense from a distance that both Ha-jin and I needed time to organize our thoughts and settle our hearts.
“Please note the lift position, and we’ll send you the cue five seconds before.”
“One minute left on the VCR. Production team, confirm the stage is properly cleared!”
“Kairos members, standby complete including opening solo entrance positions.”
Ha-jin returned to the tent exactly ten minutes after he’d promised.
Everyone who had been waiting for his return quickly gathered around him. I, too, having finished organizing my own thoughts in the meantime, did the same.
-Thank you for waiting. I’ve thought about this for a long time….
-Ha-jin.
-…?
-Can I speak first?
My intention to voice my choice before Ha-jin wasn’t out of stubbornness.
When I heard that Ha-jin wanted to push forward with his solo because it would resolve his own inner anxiety, I felt relief and clarity wash over me before any sense of betrayal or disappointment.
-Let’s go with what Yu Gun does.
-….
-I know my own limits. I won’t live up to your expectations.
If what Ha-jin needed was the sensation of a thrilling, dramatic success to overcome this frustrating reality, that wasn’t something I could deliver right now.
I still struggled with that particular section, and mastering such choreography overnight would require a miracle.
-So if my position is part of what you’re agonizing over, don’t worry about it. I don’t mind.
The performance I’d first learned while genuinely enjoying it.
Like learning taekwondo forms step by step, each time I completed another piece of choreography, I felt that sense of accomplishment.
It wasn’t that I didn’t regret losing all of that, but I wasn’t someone who coveted more than I deserved. Besides, I didn’t believe it would all come to nothing.
Just because I couldn’t cross the finish line didn’t mean the hours I’d run wouldn’t remain in my muscles.
-It’s enough that you saw my potential.
So I was truly satisfied—more than satisfied—that Ha-jin had wanted me this much.
“VCR countdown, five, four, three, two, one…!”
“Solo lift ascending!”
Bang―.
A massive gunshot sound echoes across the stage.
Across the sprawling stage, unidentifiable containers and black tarps lay scattered irregularly, like ruins.
Hide, hide well
A child’s voice reverberates like an echo.
Eerie wind sounds and thick smog fill the stage, making the atmosphere even more dreamlike.
-No.
I opened my closed eyes and slowly lifted my head.
-I’m not enough.
The image of Ha-jin shaking his head firmly flashed before my eyes like slow-motion video.
-I’ve thought about it. Whether I’m being stubborn like Ha-ru said.
-Maybe you’re right. Maybe Dan Ha-ru has a point. Perhaps what I really want right now is to gamble.
Lights swathed the entire stage in azure, sweeping back and forth as if searching for someone hidden within. Dancers in black masks moved through the containers, alternately revealing and concealing their bodies.
Through it all, a lift capable of carrying a single person rose slowly onto the stage.
-Lee Do-ha.
-…Yes.
-Tomorrow, if you think you might mess up the choreography at that same part.
-….
-Just don’t do it. Standing still is fine.
The deep green eyes of the figure, whose blue-black hair was swept back, gleamed with intensity.
Backlit as he was, only the silhouette of his body was faintly visible, yet the powerful physique extending from his broad shoulders emanated an inexplicable sense of pressure.
-It’s fine.
-…I think it’ll still be fine.
Ha-jin’s expression, having made his decision, still lacked his usual certainty.
Lee Do-ha knew well what expression people wore at such moments.
Hide yourself well
Don’t let your hair show
It made no sense, there was no guarantee it would work, and the odds of failure were overwhelmingly high.
Yet despite it all, the desire to challenge oneself, trusting only in one’s instinct.
The urge to hurl one’s entire being toward an uncertain outcome.
During his soccer days, the Director’s face when selecting him as the final penalty taker in the match that determined advancement to the semifinals—it had worn precisely this expression.
Hide yourself well, what’s this?
Your hesitation is showing
The black sleeveless shirt rising to his neck and the sleeves wrapped around his arms made Do-ha’s musculature all the more defined. The leather belt across his chest was snug, but not so tight as to impede movement.
Feeling the texture of the leather pants clinging to his legs, Lee Do-ha slowly raised his right thumb and drew it beneath his left eye as if wiping away tears.
The blue-black paint clinging to his thumb left a vivid line, like stage makeup.
‘Did I score back then?’
The hazy memories of childhood were buried once more in the depths of recollection.
Now, before Lee Do-ha’s eyes remained only brilliant lights and the gaze of the audience—no grand goalpost.
Let’s begin
You and I… (Shhhhhh―)
As the song ended, Lee Do-ha stepped powerfully onto the stage for the first time.
Lee Do-ha’s solo performance had begun.

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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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