I’m Debuting With The Bias I Killed - Chapter 14

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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 14
The Practice Studio was a chaotic whirlwind. Next to someone hitting high notes, another was rapping at breakneck speed. Mismatched drum patterns layered over each other from every corner.
A finger swiped across the tablet screen.
‘So this is how hard keeping a surprise really is.’
Understanding dawned suddenly. Now he grasped why idols about to make a comeback were so desperate to spoil their own release.
Hiding a trump card was no small feat. Especially whenever he caught Kang Iyul shooting glances his way with that suspicious, scrutinizing look—he’d feel the urge to just plug in his earbuds and play the track right then and there.
The work progressed faster than expected.
‘I used to eat for a living doing this.’
The beat and melody he’d crafted with a basic app were flowing into his ears now.
“That’s done.”
Clean chord progressions, pleasant melody. The catchy hook was already lodged in his head.
He hit play again.
Intro, development, buildup and climax, chorus—it was flawlessly structured from start to finish.
His head nodded slowly.
“Not bad.”
Since he hadn’t used his usual production software, the rough sound quality actually suited his current position well.
Showing professional-level skill from the beginning would feel out of place.
Even while highlighting his Producing as a strength, he couldn’t afford to abandon a growth narrative.
But then a question surfaced in his mind.
‘Whose song is this? Or rather, who is this song for?’
His hands stilled. That lingering sense of wrongness—this was its source.
This wasn’t a song for ‘me.’
Commercially viable chord progressions, safe development, secure structure. The formula he’d recycled countless times before.
He pulled out his earbuds.
“…Huh.”
A short breath escaped.
There was a spotlight, but the protagonist was missing.
‘If I stepped on stage with this track?’
The reaction would be predictable.
-Nice song, though.
-So he knows how to produce?
-Oh, he’s pretty good.
But that would be it.
“…Right.”
Then the words from the screen came back to him.
[Who Are You?]
Right.
This Mission was a stage to answer the question: “Who are you?”
It was the only individual stage in the Survival where you controlled everything. An opportunity to show people who you truly were.
What was needed wasn’t technique—it was proof.
Yet here he was, someone who’d spent a lifetime writing other people’s stories, and he couldn’t write a single line of his own.
“…This is driving me crazy.”
He had no choice. He was starting over from scratch.
He tore the crowded notebook page clean in half.
Then opened a fresh page.
For a long moment he just rolled his pen across it, then wrote down a single word.
[Me]
He’d produced so many songs. Some artists had debuted with his tracks, others had hit number one or won awards.
But he himself had never once sung his own song.
“…Heh.”
A hollow laugh spilled out. This was the first time he’d had a client like this.
First, he needed to understand this client better. He drew a circle around the word [Me], then let words branch out as they came to mind.
[Music]
[Producer]
He paused briefly.
Then.
[Kang Iyul]
“…I should delete this.”
He moved to cross out Iyul’s name, but instead carefully erased it with his eraser.
‘Drawing a line through someone’s name feels wrong.’
Using some ridiculous superstition as an excuse.
“This is driving me crazy.”
It had been a long time since I’d felt this kind of helplessness while working on a composition. But it was a good kind of frustration.
The Practice Studio was still loud as ever.
And there in the middle of all that noise, I began writing about myself for the first time.
* * *
Mid-term Evaluation, two days before the Round 1 stage.
The air in the Practice Studio was heavy before things even started. The judges took their seats in turn, and when MC Kang Sejun finally appeared, every trainee’s spine snapped to attention in perfect unison.
“Hello, everyone!”
“Good, you’ve all been practicing hard, right?”
“Yes!”
They answered Song Inhyuk’s question at full volume, but tension threaded through their voices. This was where the real competition truly began.
After a brief camera check, filming started.
“Then, we’ll begin the Round 1 Mid-term Evaluation.”
This time, MC Kang Sejun sat among the judges themselves, watching the stage. With a senior as accomplished as him added to the panel, the trainees had no choice but to feel even more pressure.
One by one, they were called to the stage in order.
“You really prepared this thinking your strength is dancing?”
“If your so-called best vocal skill is this bad, how terrible must everything else be?”
“You’re supposed to be an idol, but your strength is wordplay?”
“This is genuinely serious, everyone. What are you all even trying to do here?”
The judges’ critiques were relentless. What they’d broadcast during the Signal Song Mission was nothing compared to this.
‘Man, what aired on TV was just the tip of the iceberg.’
Hearing it in person was a different dimension entirely. The pressure you felt on the spot was like the air itself crushing down on you.
The problem was mostly the same across all of them. They weren’t expressing themselves—they were copying other people. Their performances were nothing but imitation, and naturally, none of them came close to the originals.
A perfect example was right in front of me.
“A lot of trainees performed your songs. What do you think?”
At that question, Kang Sejun—who always smiled—wiped the smile from his face.
“I guess our songs are… easy targets?”
‘Ah, so this was that moment.’
A suffocating silence.
“Oh, no!”
‘Hearing it directly is actually terrifying.’
This was a scene that became a huge topic even in the broadcast before my regression. It was one of those early moments that garnered attention. The international fans even turned it into a meme.
“Because you’re someone I really respect and admire, and your songs are amazing…”
The unfortunate trainee flailed his hands in panic.
“I appreciate that, but that doesn’t answer the question of who you are, does it?”
At those words, the trainee’s expression crumbled. The evaluation wasn’t even halfway through, and the remaining trainees swallowed hard in unison.
“Next… Code 6 trainee. Please introduce your keyword.”
Go Jaesung walked out with his hand raised confidently, and the trainees’ gazes locked onto him. Their eyes shone with trust—faith that he could somehow shift this frozen atmosphere.
Even the judges straightened up in their seats. They were the most exhausted by these subpar performances, after all.
“Hello, I’m Code 6 trainee.”
Go Jaesung greeted them calmly.
“My keyword is Producing.”
“Oh—so Code 6 trainee has producing skills?”
“I haven’t been at it very long.”
Go Jaesung gave a bashful smile at Kang Sejun’s question.
“But the more I do it, the more fun it becomes. I want to show you that I’m someone who doesn’t fear challenges!”
The judges nodded in satisfaction at the answer.
Go Jaesung had rearranged the hit song “Fantasy” from the famous idol group Chase. While the original was performance-focused, he’d added a hip-hop sound and performed his own rap as well.
[Close your eyes
Show me your fantasy
Time doesn’t wait]
‘…He’s pretty good.’
Even while managing both rap and choreography, his execution was solid. The feeling was completely different from watching it on broadcast.
‘He seemed much worse back then.’
That thought caught me off guard.
Damn, I really hated this bastard so much!
Throughout the entire Survival broadcast, I’d never once thought he was good at anything.
By the time I binged the Survival show belatedly, I absolutely refused to believe Go Jaesung was one of the skilled members. I even convinced myself it was all just editing tricks.
‘Back then I thought he was dead weight.’
Even now, I judge my rival’s abilities objectively, prejudice cast aside.
Am I an angel? Or a bodhisattva?
Of course, the previous trainees’ lackluster performances had only made his stage shine all the brighter.
“Wow, I should’ve learned some Producing myself.”
“You think you’d do it as well as Go Jaesung?”
“Yeah, fair point.”
The trainees’ envious voices faded behind us as the evaluations continued, warmer now than at any point since the Mid-term Evaluation had begun.
“How long did you say you’d been studying Producing?”
“A year, sir.”
“In just one year, to reach this level—”
“You’ve certainly got talent.”
Jackpie, a producer from Nyx Entertainment, continued the evaluation.
“These days, self-produced idols are all the rage. In that sense, Code 6 could become exactly the kind of member this team needs.”
The expressions around the room shifted.
Envy, admiration, and the certainty of ‘Oh, he’s definitely debuting.’
Go Jaesung tried to smile humbly, but he couldn’t hide the corners of his mouth lifting.
The moment he strutted back to his seat, the other trainees crowded around him.
“Insane, you absolutely killed it.”
“Legend Jaesung—”
“You’re definitely debuting.”
Go Jaesung waved them off.
“No, I just prepared hard.”
‘What a show.’
The Mid-term Evaluation proceeded in reverse code order. Next was Choi Unjo.
Choi Unjo performed a stage with an original rap laid over a famous hip-hop beat.
‘Oh…….’
Even though I’d seen the performance broadcast a few times already, hearing it live felt different.
“His tone is crazy, right?”
“Must be because he trained overseas—his pronunciation is completely different—”
“Code 5 doesn’t seem nervous at all.”
Naturally, the evaluations remained positive.
“Next, Code 4. Take your position.”
‘Here we go.’
The moment I stood, murmuring rippled through the room.
“Wow—right after Jaesung and Unjo?”
“Of all people, rapping right after Choi Unjo—”
The tone carried obvious mockery.
‘Well, what did I expect.’
Go Jaesung had clearly already spread the word. I’d never mentioned to Kang Iyul that I was rapping, so this wasn’t a surprise—it was exactly what I’d anticipated.
I picked up the Guitar without hesitation and walked forward.
“Rapping while playing Guitar?”
“This is gonna be a total disaster.”
“That doesn’t match rap at all, though?”
It was funny how the trainees took everything Go Jaesung said as gospel.
Come on, logically speaking—who brings a Guitar just to rap?
“How’s your body feeling?”
Kang Sejun asked with a light smile.
“I’m fine, sir. Completely fine! Thank you for your concern.”
Kang Sejun nodded.
“I like your spirit. Please introduce today’s performance and its keyword.”
“Yes. Today’s keyword is ‘Original Composition.'”
Snap.
As if someone had hit pause on a video, all sound ceased.
The murmuring trainees, the note-taking writers, even Kang Sejun mid-flip of his cue cards.
Every face visible in the mirror had gone rigid.
Kang Iyul with eyes wide as saucers. Han Sangyun’s expression of shock. And Go Jaesung, his comfortable composure completely wiped away.
Even the judges’ table showed signs of bewilderment.
“Hold on.”
Jackpie spoke first.
“You really prepared an…… Original Composition?”
“Yes.”
“You composed it yourself?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t forget what the Mission theme was, did you?”
The suspicion was natural. A Survival participant whose name hadn’t even been revealed yet—and worse, a trainee brought on hastily just to fill out the roster—suddenly presenting an Original Composition was enough to raise eyebrows.
Murmurs erupted again from the back of the room.
“Is he joking?”
“What? Nobody said anything about that.”
“He’s really going for the attention grab.”
Because I’d anticipated every reaction, I lifted my head and met the eyes of every judge on the panel.
Then I answered with quiet confidence.
“Yes.”
The corners of my mouth curved slowly upward.
“It’s what I do best.”
I Killed My Bias and We’re Debuting (Serialized)
Author │ U-Sseu
Publisher │ Kim Ju-hyung
Publishing House │ J Plus Media Co., Ltd.
Marketing │ Han Jae-hyuk
Address │ 401, Ace Techno Tower 8th, 11 Digital-ro 33-gil, Guro-gu, Seoul (Guro-dong)
Email │ [email protected]
Website │ www.jayplemedia.com
ⓒ U-Sseu 2026
※This work has been published by J Plus Media Co., Ltd. under contract with the copyright holder, and its contents may not be used in any form or by any means without permission from the company and author.
Violations of this restriction are subject to 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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