Grab the Regressor by the Collar and Debut - Chapter 96

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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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96. Bomb? (7)
“Huh?”
Ha-ru was pointing at his phone—specifically, at the messenger conversation with Lee Yu-gun displayed on the screen.
“Get him to do it. His voice won’t overlap with Do-ha’s, and when I watched him during workouts, his lung capacity looked solid.”
“But Lee Yu-gun has never rapped before….”
Ha-ru shot Won-ho a meaningful glance. Won-ho, who had been recording everything with his selfie camera, made eye contact with Ha-ru on the monitor and flinched, stopping the recording. Confirming it was off the record, Ha-ru crossed his arms and leaned back.
“So what? It’s not like he’s some incredible singer anyway.”
[Lee Yu-gun (Affiliation: Miro)]
-Debuff: All stats decline due to unique trait effects
Vocal: D (C+)
Dance: B+ (S)
Expression: C- (A-)
Charm: D+ (B+)
Special: Copy & Paste (B)
-At a certain probability, completely assimilates the subject of focus
Appeal Points:
‘Still, twelve ships remain’
-Sense of responsibility, perseverance, intense focus
From the last time I checked Lee Yu-gun’s absolute stats, there was no rap. His confirmed vocal stat was barely C+ even without the debuff—the kind of level where you’d think, “Oh, he’s pretty decent for a regular person.”
And even that was now reduced to nursery-rhyme level accuracy with pitch and rhythm, courtesy of the debuff.
But Ha-ru’s attention was drawn to a different stat.
“If I construct the entire tone and rhythm for him and have him memorize it, he should be able to handle a sub-rapper part.”
Special: Copy & Paste (B)
-At a certain probability, completely assimilates the subject of focus
Lee Yu-gun had an abnormally fast ability to copy choreography. Despite his careless approach to practice, he always managed to fulfill his role on stage. During breaks, Ha-ru had reviewed Lee Yu-gun’s practice videos and shared his analysis with the team.
“He’s incredible at memorizing, if nothing else. I saw the blue stage last time, and he mimicked Han Sung-woo’s pronunciation habits exactly. He probably learned it by listening to Han Sung-woo sing it.”
“But during Team A, nobody taught him his part separately….”
“He must have learned it by listening to the guide vocal. It was identical to Chung Han-sol’s ending technique.”
Of course, since the absolute level of skill differed, the quality of the ending notes produced by Han-sol and Lee Yu-gun were worlds apart.
Ha-ru looked at Do-ha, who had been listening quietly, and spoke.
“That said, this will be harder on you, Do-ha. You won’t just be doing your own part—you’ll have to build his part too. So I’m leaving this decision to you.”
“….”
Lee Do-ha’s rap stat was S.
If Lee Yu-gun could mimic even 30% of Lee Do-ha’s skill, he could probably pull off something in the C or B range. Ha-ru was confident in that assessment.
After hearing Ha-ru’s explanation, Lee Do-ha answered without the slightest hesitation.
“That’s not difficult.”
“Do-ha, are you really sure? You’d be doing the work of two people on your own….”
“Besides, when it comes to dance, I’m indebted to you and Lee Yu-gun. If I can contribute to the team with what I do well, then that’s what I should do.”
Lee Do-ha’s cold assessment of ability applied to himself as well. Won-ho, still busy keeping up with his own responsibilities, looked surprised at Do-ha’s decision. But Ha-ru, who had already anticipated this response, quickly nodded and wrapped things up.
“Perfect. So we’ll submit: Main vocal Si-woo, lead vocal me, sub vocals Won-ho and Eun-chan, main rapper Lee Do-ha, and sub rapper Lee Yu-gun.”
“But do you think Lee Yu-gun will actually do it? I’m a bit worried about that.”
Jeong Si-u, who had been listening quietly, asked cynically, and Ha-jin put the phone he’d set on the table into his pocket before answering decisively.
“Even if he refuses, we need to make him do it. He’s the one who said he’d take on whatever’s left.”
“….”
“And if someone has to do it anyway, isn’t it only fair that Lee Yu-gun—who skipped practice without a word—takes responsibility rather than Ju Eun-chan, who diligently does his part?”
At that, everyone’s gaze turned to Eun-chan, who had been quiet the whole time. Startled by their attention, Eun-chan clenched and unclenched his fists, unable to find words. Then he bowed his head slightly.
“Thank you, everyone.”
Watching Eun-chan like that, Si-woo took a short breath and stood up from his seat.
“That’s fair. So we’re done with the meeting, right? Should we all head to our rooms and get some rest? Starting tomorrow, I don’t think we’ll be able to sleep properly again.”
“Let’s do that. I’ll talk to Lee Yu-gun. Oh, Won-ho, stay for a moment.”
“Huh? Me? Why me?”
Won-ho, who had been preparing to leave as the atmosphere wound down, looked flustered and sat back down.
“What, why. Do you have something to say?”
“…? What are you talking about? We need to work out the choreography. Don’t even think about slacking off today.”
“Me? I’m doing the choreography?”
“What, were you planning to coast by, our Won-ho?”
“…Oh, no. No, I wasn’t. Yeah. Okay. I’ll do it.”
Won-ho sat down next to Ha-jin with a bewildered expression. Ha-jin gave him a quick look that said ‘what’s wrong with him today?’ before rapidly launching into the choreography composition he’d been thinking about. There was still a long way to go, even if they started right now.
* * *
After finishing the first round of choreography work with Won-ho, it was already dawn. Since there was filming tomorrow, the two of them decided they couldn’t afford to stay up all night and left the Practice Room. After parting ways with Won-ho in the middle of the Hallway, Ha-jin headed not to his and Eun-chan’s room, but to the Lounge, which they used like a Living Room.
Rather than risk waking the light-sleeping Eun-chan by going into the room now, he planned to just throw a blanket over himself on the Lounge sofa and sleep.
“….”
Just as they say one thought leads to another, countless thoughts swirled through Ha-jin’s mind.
‘Could it really be Lee Yu-gun?’
No, he still couldn’t be certain.
‘Parents not attending doesn’t necessarily mean they don’t exist.’
Ha-jin was startled by his own thought—what kind of ridiculous logic was that? But the suspicion still wouldn’t go away.
‘But what if I’m right? What would I even say? That I know what you did in your past life? And if I’m wrong? Won’t people think I’m some kind of cult member?’
Now that he thought about it, he’d only been told to find the Seon Gwi-ja, but there were no instructions on what to do after that. It seemed like he’d only be able to do something once Thirteen returned….
“Ha-jin hyung!”
“…? What is it.”
“Are you done with practice now?”
At the sudden voice, Ha-jin turned to see Dan Ha-ru and Seo Tae-hyun sitting on one of the Lounge sofas in their pajamas. Surprised, Ha-jin approached them.
“It’s almost 3 AM. What are you two doing?”
“I couldn’t sleep for a bit, so I came out, and Ha-ru suddenly woke up too. We were just talking about our Stage.”
It seems Dan Ha-ru doesn’t know that Ha-jin ate his ice cream. Or maybe he’d already refilled it.
“Oh, there’s ice cream in the fridge that I bought. Why don’t you have just a bite and then go to sleep?”
“…!”
“…Don’t eat at night. Resist.”
Seeing Dan Ha-ru behind Seo Tae-hyun with eyes as wide as the full moon, trembling with anticipation, it was clear he had no idea.
I hadn’t even bought it yet.
After finishing my brief contemplation, I moved obediently to sit beside Tae-hyun. As I leaned deeply into the plush sofa—courtesy of Judy’s Furniture—drowsiness began to creep in, my eyes growing heavy and unfocused.
“What’s wrong? If you’re sleepy, go to your room and rest. I thought you came out because you couldn’t sleep either.”
“I was working on choreography with Won-ho. Eun-chan’s sleeping in the room anyway, so I can’t go in. I was just planning to find a blanket and sleep here.”
“Is Won-ho working on the choreography this time too?”
“Yeah. How are things going for you guys?”
My teammates Tae-hyun and Ha-ru exchanged a glance before giggling and nodding. I rested my chin on the edge of the sofa, curious about what they seemed so secretive about.
“What is it? What are you two planning that you look so ominous about?”
“Honestly, we’re already set just with our team members.”
“You, Ha-ru, Lee Pa-rang, and who else?”
“Me, Ha-ru, Pa-rang, Jae-young, and Yuki.”
“…Wow. Flower and confetti combined? I feel like I’ve already seen the whole performance.”
They’d picked exactly the composition that should have been the Yellow Team from the last sports day. Except for Tae-hyun and Ha-ru, they were all Feather Class trainees, so it was surprising that this combination was purely a matter of luck.
“As soon as Pa-rang joined, we closed the room immediately. I literally screamed ‘Eureka.'”
“…So that’s why.”
“Huh? Why what?”
“Nothing. Just know that your choice determined a lot of things….”
The three of us chatted quite cozily, caught up in the early morning atmosphere. Though Ha-ru struggled to keep his eyes open midway through, even when I told him to go to bed, he stubbornly held his ground. He seemed to be genuinely enjoying talking with his close seniors in the early hours. (Or perhaps he was anxious that I might bring up the ice cream incident….)
As the conversation gradually shifted from everyday topics to something more serious, I asked Tae-hyun in a hushed voice.
“How did you end up getting close with Lee Yu-gun anyway?”
“…Hyung, you’ve been really concerned about him since last time?”
“We ended up on the same team, and no matter how I think about it, it’s strange that you two are close.”
Tae-hyun had been someone who, since childhood, chased only one dream: becoming an idol. He had talent and worked hard, but opportunities always slipped through his fingers. Tae-hyun didn’t know it, but in the timeline I was aware of, he’d been tormented by false hope countless times with that dream.
Yet even so, Tae-hyun was desperate enough never to abandon that dream. Even now, living through his fifth iteration.
I couldn’t understand why Tae-hyun was being so lenient toward Yu-gun, who held opportunity in his hands yet didn’t even glance at it.
“His attitude is pretty bad, isn’t it?”
“He doesn’t seem to have any intention of debuting.”
“Hmm….”
“Honestly, I’m tolerating it because he’s close with you. If I mess up this mission, I’m in serious trouble. You know that.”
“…Don’t read the internet reactions too much. They just need someone to criticize for a while anyway.”
Tae-hyun, who was just as skilled at reading public opinion as I was, offered his advice with a pitying expression. He understood well my situation as a target for malicious commenters. Tae-hyun draped a blanket over Ha-ru, who was lying with his legs bent, and spoke in a careful voice.
“Actually, it’s true. Lee Yu-gun didn’t join the company to debut.”
At this unexpected revelation, I lifted my drooping head sharply. Sleep vanished in an instant.
“What do you know? Then why isn’t he dropping out and why is he participating in the Survival Program like this?”
“That’s his personal business, so it’s hard for me to just say it. I don’t even know the exact details. I just happened to find out.”
….
“Anyway, he’s not the type who wants to be an idol. He’ll probably leave the company after the Survival Program ends…. But he’s doing his part well enough, so cut him some slack, hyung. Of course, it’ll be frustrating.”
Tae-hyun looked at me with an apologetic smile, as if he understood everything. But his words only made my thoughts more complicated. As fatigue and exhaustion weighed on me, my brow furrowed miserably.
That was when it happened.
Beeeeeep―
“Ugh!”
“Hyung?”
A sudden ringing in my ears sent my vision reeling. Struck by an unexpected headache, I clutched my head and stumbled forward. Tae-hyun, startled, reached out to steady me.
Beeeep—
“Hyung, Ha-jin hyung!”
An overwhelming headache and dizziness crashed over me, so severe I could barely form words. It felt similar to the aftereffects of just emerging from the Unconscious Space.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Around the time I noticed my heartbeat sounding unusually loud, I realized it wasn’t my heart at all.
Something was actually knocking on my ‘world’.
My vision twisted and fractured, colors separating like a broken RGB display. I squeezed my eyes shut.
“Hyung, are you okay? What’s wrong! Should I call the Team Leader?”
“…No, I’m fine.”
Minutes seemed to pass. The pain that felt endless vanished in an instant, and my condition returned as if nothing had happened.
Haa, haa….
In that brief moment, my breathing had quickened, cold sweat drenched me, and a chill ran through my entire body.
‘What was that?’
Before I could properly comprehend anything, a familiar blue window materialized before my eyes.
I cannot provide a translation for this text as it does not appear to be valid Korean or any recognizable language. It contains random characters, symbols, and formatting that don’t form coherent words or sentences.
I cannot provide a reliable translation for this text as it appears to contain corrupted characters, random symbols, and garbled Korean text that doesn’t form coherent words or sentences.
I cannot provide a reliable translation for this text. It appears to be corrupted, contains random characters, spacing errors, and incomplete Korean syllables that don’t form coherent words or sentences.
I apologize, but the text you provided appears to be corrupted or contains invalid Korean characters that don’t form coherent words. I cannot provide an accurate translation of this text.
I’ll be quickly restored @?1 as scheduled
Failure:
I cannot provide a meaningful translation for this text as it appears to be corrupted, contains random characters, symbols, and keyboard noise rather than coherent Korean language.

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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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