I’m Debuting With The Bias I Killed - Chapter 11

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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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Episode 11
“Code 4 trainee, please come forward.”
A brief silence. Go Jae-sung didn’t move. His face showed no sign he’d heard his name called.
“Code 4 trainee?”
Only at the second call did his shoulders twitch.
“……Ah, yes!”
He forced a smile and stepped forward. He’d tried to look composed, but it was already too late.
The camera couldn’t have missed the rigidity that had frozen his expression.
“That concludes the announcement for Code B Group.”
The air in the Practice Room turned heavy.
“……That’s it?”
Someone murmured.
My number hadn’t been called through Code B, which meant…….
‘Am I Code A?’
Murmurs spread in an instant.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“How long has he even been here?”
“I was sure Go Jae-sung would be A, obviously……?”
“What on earth are the criteria?”
Open skepticism and resentment poured in from behind me.
Though it was still too early to reveal names, Go Jae-sung’s name was thrown around everywhere.
Five trainees remained, but attention naturally focused on only two people.
Go Jae-sung and me.
Go Jae-sung himself was trying to calm the other trainees.
“Stop it. There must be a reason for all this.”
Even as he played the peacemaker, he made no effort to hide his indignation.
‘Cunning bastard.’
He said nothing himself while letting those around him voice the complaints instead. That had been Go Jae-sung’s method throughout the entire survival show.
“Congratulations, Code 2 trainee.”
Even amid the considerable commotion, Kang Se-jun continued the announcement.
“You are the only Code S and have become the first center of Boys Code.”
“Thank you so much!”
Ju Han stepped forward and bowed deeply.
“I’ll work hard!”
As expected, the center was Ju Han again. Privately I’d hoped it would be Kang I-yul, but seeing his performance firsthand, there was no denying his skill.
However, there was a meaningful change.
Kang I-yul had moved up from Code 6 to Code 3.
Unlike the past when he’d barely missed the upper ranks, this time he’d made it solidly into the Debut Group.
His injury and fighting spirit seemed to have moved the judges considerably.
And there was something else.
[Danger Level: 85% (▼5%)]
‘Thank you, King of Hell!!’
A 5% drop in one go. It had happened as I made the Debut Group and Kang I-yul’s ranking improved.
‘If this pace continues……’
If I hold the Debut Group until the end and debut together with them…….
I really might be able to get it down to 0%.
“Code 20, Code 3, Code 10, and Code 1 trainees have been automatically assigned to Code A Group.”
“Congratulations, Sung-woo!”
Han Sang-yun tapped my shoulder.
“Ah, ah. Yes, Sang-yun……”
“There you go again.”
Han Sang-yun laughed, but the atmosphere around us didn’t ease at all.
Who the center was had already fallen from their interest.
Everyone was fixated on one thing.
‘Why am I Code A.’
“It seems some trainees aren’t satisfied with the results.”
‘Ooh, he’s landing those direct hits.’
Kang Se-jun’s comment, tinged with amusement, silenced the commotion instantly.
“Let me explain the criteria for this Signal Song evaluation again.”
Kang Se-jun flipped over a cue card.
“Today’s evaluation wasn’t simply about choosing whoever dances best.”
Several trainees’ expressions stiffened.
“You all received the Signal Song two days ago. Everyone was given the same song, the same choreography, the same amount of time.”
Kang Se-jun’s gaze swept toward Code C.
“The judges evaluated who saw the choreography most accurately and executed it perfectly in that short timeframe.”
“……Accurately?”
Someone asked carefully.
“Yes. Accurately.”
This time, Katin picked up the microphone.
“Dancing well and executing given choreography precisely are two different matters.”
He demonstrated a brief movement with his hands.
“The direction of your fingertips, the angle of your fingers. Seems trivial, doesn’t it?”
The trainees watched him in silence.
“But these details aren’t thrown in by the choreographer on a whim. They’re movements designed to create the song’s atmosphere and highlight points.”
Katin lowered his hands.
“So missing those details isn’t a simple mistake.”
His voice hardened.
“It means you weren’t focused on the assigned task, or you sloppily reverted to your own familiar style.”
The murmuring died away completely.
‘That was it.’
In the broadcast before my regression, this explanation had been edited down and passed over quickly.
But hearing it directly here, the criteria became crystal clear.
How faithfully you completed the task given to you, within the allotted time.
That was the standard for this Signal Song evaluation.
“The trainees called Code A and S—”
Katin looked toward us.
“Were selected for the top ranks because they accomplished all of this.”
“Ah…….”
A short exclamation burst out as if they were only now understanding.
“Actually…… we deliberated quite a long time over the final spot.”
At Kang Se-jun’s words, everyone’s eyes fixed on me again.
‘I know it too, you bastards.’
The judges probably hadn’t found it easy to promote me to Group A either.
But what came next defied everyone’s expectations.
“Code 10, who forgot the lyrics but carried the stage through freestyle—and Code 4, who missed two choreography details.”
And I couldn’t help but be even more shocked than when Go Jae-sung had been called Code B.
“What? The newcomer’s spot was confirmed?”
“You were actually deliberating between Choi Un-jo and Go Jae-sung?”
The direction of the murmuring completely reversed.
“Both of them made clear mistakes, so it was truly difficult to decide.”
Kang Se-jun took a breath and gauged the trainees’ reactions.
“The deciding factor was the completeness of the stage performance. That’s why the final spot went to Code 10.”
He smiled and looked toward Choi Un-jo, and Choi Un-jo…….
Tapped his chest with his fist twice. His satisfied expression and the corners of his mouth curling up—the very picture of someone accustomed to praise.
“From now on, you’ll perform in various stages. After debut, you’ll face tighter timelines and more difficult performances.”
He slowly surveyed the trainees.
“I hope you’ll do your very best to bring each stage to completion.”
Coming from Kang Se-jun, the advice carried extra weight.
“Now, please take your positions according to your Code groups.”
The screen revealed the Debut Group’s codes.
[Code 2 ▶ Code 1
Code 1 ▶ Code 2
Code 3 ▶ Code 3
Code 20 ▶ Code 4
Code 10 ▶ Code 5]
Ju Han, Code S and first place, took the front position.
Behind him stood Han Sang-yun, Kang I-yul, myself, and Choi Un-jo, in order of Code A rankings.
‘I’m ranked above Choi Un-jo.’
More thrilling than the fourth-place ranking was standing alongside Kang I-yul. And Go Jae-sung, taking his place one step behind us.
“The top five, please select your additional items.”
Kang Se-jun covered the cue card.
“See you tomorrow at the Signal Song filming location!”
And so the midterm evaluation ended, leaving nothing but shock in its wake.
“……Cut! That’s all for today’s filming.”
“Thank you for your hard work!”
“Thank you—”
* * *
Even after filming wrapped, it felt unreal.
‘Me…… in the top tier?’
Code A. The words kept bouncing around in my head.
My goal had been clear from the start: avoid the C group that would face penalties at the Signal Song filming. Just make it through without ending up there.
So I’d practiced desperately, but I’d assumed I’d land somewhere in the middle at best. Even if I’d nailed every detail, dancing wasn’t my strength.
“Sung-woo, congratulations.”
“Th—thank you so much!”
A staff member who’d witnessed me crying earlier offered a sincere word of congratulation.
“I didn’t expect it, but your singing is really good.”
“Right? No wonder she cried. To have that much ability and be held back by her body—that must’ve been so frustrating.”
‘Singing…….’
The moment I heard those words, the puzzle pieces clicked into place.
First, it was singing.
All this time, I’d been setting my standards far too high.
It made sense. Before the regression, I was in the recording studio every day listening to fully polished vocals.
Singers who could sound like a finished recording from the very first take.
The bone-chilling live performances I’d heard through my headphones—that had been my benchmark.
‘This level is just basic.’
So I’d never actually thought I sang well.
Hitting the right notes, memorizing lyrics, singing all the way through while dancing—I’d taken all of it for granted as simply what was expected.
But after watching the other trainees perform today, I finally understood.
‘Oh, they’re still just trainees, right?’
People gasping for breath and unable to sing even one phrase properly. People so focused on the choreography they forgot the lyrics. People whose voices physically couldn’t reach the high notes.
By trainee standards, I was higher than I’d thought. Just the fact that I could sing all the way through while dancing already put me in the middle tier or above.
‘Of course, this is only possible because Nyx isn’t a major agency.’
It was a company that had to scrape together trainees right up until the survival show aired. Before the regression, they’d ended up with only nineteen trainees instead of the full twenty they needed, so quite a lot of the pool was padding anyway.
And second, the details.
The judging criteria I’d heard earlier came back to me.
How accurately you could complete the choreography in the given time.
Before the regression, the judging criteria were the same. But only Ju Han had actually met that standard properly.
The other trainees had missed details in similar ways, so Code A had ultimately been divided by stage completion alone.
Even Go Jae-sung, who’d missed only two details, had missed five or more before the regression.
But this time was different.
Not just me—Kang I-yul and Han Sang-yun, who trained with me, hadn’t missed a single detail either.
The moment more trainees executed the choreography properly, the judging criteria actually wielded its power.
The criteria hadn’t changed. The people meeting them had.
“……This is insane.”
The plan I’d set up just to survive had ended up shaking the entire evaluation.
My heart pounded hard. Getting a strong position at the Signal Song filming was the chance to take the lead from the start.
But joy faded fast, replaced by dread.
‘If my dancing skills show cracks later—’
I laughed at myself bitterly.
‘I’ll be completely buried.’
The brighter the spotlight, the deeper the shadow it casts behind it.
I knew that truth better than anyone.
In the end, there was only one answer.
Practice. And more practice.
I found myself standing in front of the mirror again, like habit.
Tomorrow’s filming wouldn’t have live singing. The advantage of vocals disappears, leaving only the dancing. If anything, that made it even more disadvantageous for me.
Foot position, the angle of my arms, the exact moment to turn my head. I traced through each movement slowly, one by one.
Now that I was Code A, I had to look like someone worthy of that position.
But—
My body shook on the very first movement.
“What?”
My center of gravity lurched forward.
I planted my feet quickly to catch my balance, but something felt off.
My body responded a beat slower than my mind commanded.
‘Must be the tension wearing off.’
I brushed it aside and started again.
This time it was fine. The movements flowed naturally.
Then came the highlight.
One, two, three—the moment I thumped my chest three times.
Thump.
My heart dropped hard.
My breath caught in my throat.
‘Wait.’
I froze mid-movement, clutching my chest.
I forced myself to breathe slowly, but my heart wouldn’t calm down.
‘What’s wrong with me?’
I’d pushed myself hard before the midterm evaluation, but not enough to be this exhausted.
I walked slowly to the wall. The moment my palm touched it, the cool surface registered a fraction of a second late.
That’s when it happened. The edge of my vision warped slightly. The focus blurred and returned, blurred and returned again.
I blinked hard.
Once, then again. Finally, my sight cleared.
“…Wow.”
A hollow laugh escaped me unbidden.
This wasn’t simple fatigue.
‘The Hourglass that Reverses Time.’
For every moment of time I’d rewound, my body had to endure the full weight of that time anyway. It wasn’t just the memory of practice that accumulated—the exhaustion from practicing was doubling up alongside it.
I leaned my back against the wall and lowered my head slightly. I was dizzy, but not so much that I couldn’t continue practicing right now.
But my body was already warning me. If I kept going like this, I would definitely cross a line I shouldn’t.
‘It’s dangerous.’
I felt it instinctively, even without the status window appearing.
I thought I’d been buying myself time ahead of everyone else, but really I’d been racking up a debt. Predatory debt at that, with interest rates that were astronomical.
I looked at the mirror again.
The shadows under my eyes had definitely darkened.
“…I need to be more careful.”
Items weren’t something I could use recklessly. I could only generate them when truly necessary, but using them also required genuine need.
And making that judgment call was ultimately my responsibility.
I reset my posture. This time I just went through the motions gently, running through only the points I’d need to focus on during tomorrow’s shoot. My reflection in the mirror moved very slowly.
I’m still all right for now.
But next time, I might not be.
That undeniable fact was quietly pushing me forward.
I Kill My Favorite and Debut Together (Serialized)
Author │ Yusu
Publisher │ Kim Ju-hyung
Published by │ J Plus Media, Inc.
Marketing │ Han Jae-hyeok
Address │ 401, Acetech Tower 8, 11 Digital-ro 33-gil, Guro-gu, Seoul (Guro-dong)
Email │ [email protected]
Website │ www.jayplemedia.com
ⓒ Yusu 2026
※This work is published by J Plus Media, Inc. under a contract with the copyright holder and may not be reproduced in any form or by any means without permission from the publisher and author.
Violations may result in criminal and civil liability.

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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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