The Regressor's Ice Is Golden - Chapter 7

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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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007.

“Are you really sure about this? If anything goes wrong, I’m calling Mom. You can crash at my place if you need to.”
Park Ji-ho shot her a concerned look from beside her.
Cha Jin-hee sighed.
To be honest, she’d felt too awkward coming alone, so she’d asked him along—though maybe she should have just gone by herself.
Park Ji-ho would only end up sitting there feeling just as awkward.
“I don’t know. It’s just—call it a little rebellion. Are you okay with it?”
“Me? There’s nothing to do at home anyway.”
The bus carried them faithfully to their destination.
A solitary building gleamed white in the darkness of the Park.
When they stepped through the door, Kim Ha-seol was waiting for them, already dressed in a black bodysuit.
“Oh, you made it? If you want to rent skates, just pay at the kiosk over there.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“This way.”
The two of them followed Ha-seol into the Ice Rink.
The frigid air raised goosebumps across her skin.
“I can’t believe you actually came. Didn’t your academy instructor say anything?”
“I made an excuse and left. I told my mom not to call, so it should be fine.”
“Don’t jinx it like that—you’ll actually make something go wrong.”
“Wow, your friend is terrifying.”
“Both of you, shut up.”
There was something about this whole scene—this outfit especially—that felt like déjà vu, and it unsettled her.
At least Cha Seo-hee had gone off to Canada.
On the bleachers by the Ice Rink sat one more person in similar attire.
It was Kim Ha-seol’s coach.
“Ah, friends of yours?”
The coach looked between them both, then gave a short nod.
“Say hello. This is our coach.”
“Hello.”
“Hi there!”
Ha-seol introduced them with a modest shrug.
“These are the friends I told you about. They came to watch.”
“Oh, how did you two get here?”
“Ha-seol invited us.”
“Right, I gave her permission. But how are you planning to get home? The last bus will have stopped running by then.”
“Oh.”
Cha Jin-hee’s face flushed crimson.
Park Ji-ho quickly stepped in with an easy smile.
“Don’t worry about it! We’ll figure something out. We’ve got our mom we can call.”
“Ha, well then. That’s a relief.”
Coach Park chuckled dryly and patted both their heads.
“While you’re here, I’ve got a favor to ask.”
The coach pulled an Apple Pad from his bag and unlocked it.
He held it out to Cha Jin-hee.
“What is this?”
“I’m going to run through the music in a bit. Could you record it for me?”
“Oh, um, okay?”
Cha Jin-hee looked back and forth between Ha-seol and the coach.
She’d thought they’d come for feedback, not this.
“But we’re still early in the season—did you already choreograph a routine?”
“Well, the Short Program is roughly done. There’s a piece I’ve been wanting to try with her ever since she moves up to Junior.”
From the Junior level onward, competitions split into two rounds.
The Short Program, running about two minutes forty seconds, and the Free Skating, about three minutes thirty seconds.
The final placement was determined by adding the scores from both competitions.
The coach folded his arms and laughed easily.
“You can record from the corner. Just be careful not to get in her skating path.”
“Okay, I understand.”
She’d suspected as much, and she’d been right.
It seemed Kim Ha-seol had summoned her on some excuse of a common interest.
Somehow it left a bitter taste.
‘I’ll show you how cool I am, so you just watch.’
That’s what it felt like.
Meanwhile, the girl in skates climbed onto the ice without hesitation and glided forward with purpose.
She crossed the rink at speed, then pivoted her right foot backward in the opposite direction to support herself.
‘Oh.’
Cha Jin-hee recognized the technique.
The Layback and Bauer—elegant, sweeping spirals across the ice.
Her torso straightened, her right leg kicked upward into the air.
Whoosh—! She launched into a jump and landed clean.
Both the distance and height were flawless, executed with such stability and grace.
It was beautiful enough to watch without thinking.
“What jump was that?”
“A Single Axel. A Triple Axel would need two more rotations from there.”
“Wow.”
Coach Park had climbed onto the ice and now stood in the center.
“What’s he going to do?”
“Probably learning the choreography. He took the phone to play the music.”
Cha Jin-hee sighed and raised her Apple Pad to record.
Soon music began to pour from Ha-seol’s Mobile Phone.
Unexpectedly, she knew the song.
A lyrical yet powerful violin melody flowing through the air.
A tango arrangement of a musical OST—from Lee Yu-na’s senior debut program.
“Roxanne’s Tango……”
“You know that song?”
“Yeah.”
She knew it far too well. That was the problem!
Cha Jin-hee watched numbly as Coach Park began to skate slowly, with Ha-seol following along beside him.
Sure, his movements were smooth, but that wasn’t the issue—!
Her mother would set a new program’s theme song as her phone’s ringtone whenever her daughter choreographed something.
And right now, her mother’s ringtone was……
‘Roxanne’s Tango.’
“Oh, sounds like a melodrama OST. Should I search for it?”
Park Ji-ho, still unaware of the situation, was searching the song on his Mobile Phone from beside her.
And so Cha Jin-hee found herself staring blankly at the strange coincidence unfolding before her—a new friend and her own blood relative sharing the same program.

***

‘Oh, they’re reacting?’
I checked the two of them from the corner of my eye.
Park Ji-ho was watching with pure fascination.
Cha Jin-hee’s face had gone white as a sheet.
She already understood what was happening.
Since the choreography would have to be scrapped anyway, it was best to have someone in the know suggest it—someone who could be trusted with the situation.
If I said anything, there’d be no way to explain how I found out.
No news had been posted on Cha Seo-hee’s SNS account, and besides, she wasn’t even managing it herself.
“Now, right here like this!”
The coach performed the choreography with passionate intensity, following the melody.
Soon, brilliant footwork began to dance across the ice.
From here on, I couldn’t afford to look away.
A complex Step Sequence weaving together all manner of flashy turns and techniques.
‘How did I manage to pull this off……?’
Counting every element made my eyes feel like they were about to pop out.
Well, with enough practice anyone could do it, but trying to follow along like this would set my feet on fire.
My coach, who’d kept this level of skill even after retiring, was truly impressive.
You could tell how much effort had gone into choreographing this.
The real problem is that this can’t be used as-is.
To be honest, I was worried from the moment I heard “Roxanne” specifically.
Because it wasn’t just anyone’s song—it was Lee Yu-na’s.
Challenging a legend was already a considerable burden in itself.
But compared to the other problem, it was trivial.
Who would have thought another skater would choose the exact same piece for their Short Program.
‘And that skater was Cha Seo-hee.’
Honestly, even thinking about it objectively, it was an interesting matchup.
The same age, completely opposite images, and the same music.
It was practically made for building a rivalry narrative.
Thanks to that, Kim Ha-seol realized something this season.
Just how deliciously sports journalists could craft their headlines.
Why the most entertaining spectacle in the world was watching people fight.
And why humans so loved to fan the flames of rivalry and pit people against each other.
At the time, sports media and online communities were spouting endless nonsense about “The Clash of Two Roxannes.”
One talking about medal colors from previous competitions, another about technical content, prize money, and all that.
Since it happened to be Olympic season, the manufactured drama caught fire even faster once things kicked off.
There were even journalists who made a point of mentioning Cha Seo-hee whenever they interviewed her.
She couldn’t let that circus happen again.
To prevent it.
‘……I’d have to scrap this.’
The choreography Coach Park had painstakingly worked on all night.
It was supposed to lead to a peaceful, stable future, but throwing it away felt bitter.
Eventually, the music file, arranged to roughly two minutes and thirty seconds, came to an end.
“Phew.”
Coach Park held his ending pose, beads of sweat dotting his forehead.
I nodded and clapped.
“That was beautiful.”
“Right?”
As I skated back to the boards, Cha Jin-hee handed me an Apple Pad.
“Um, there’s something I wanted to tell you.”
“Mm?”
“Well.”
Cha Jin-hee spoke carefully, watching our reactions.
“I heard my older sister is using the same piece for her Short Program this time.”
“……!”
Coach Park’s expression hardened instantly.
“How did you know that?”
“Our mom’s phone ringtone changed.”
“Wow, no way.”
Park Ji-ho, catching on to the situation, widened his eyes.
“So we have to change the music?”
“Probably…… That’s why I wanted to make a suggestion.”
Cha Jin-hee looked directly at Coach Park.
“Would it be alright if I adjusted the choreography a bit?”
Hm?
I decided to hear what Cha Jin-hee had to say.
“Is there another tango among the pieces you had as backups?”
“Well, I’m not sure…”
“Having the same genre makes it easier to adjust the rhythm, doesn’t it?”
“Wait, wait.”
Coach Park waved his hand in confusion.
“Are you absolutely sure about this? Why are you telling us?”
“That’s because……”
“You said your sister went to Canada? When did she stop figure skating?”
“…… At ten years old.”
“I see.”
His response was quiet and cold.
Cha Jin-hee fell silent, as if she had nothing left to say.
At this point, few people outside a select handful knew about the two of them.
Most didn’t know, and frankly didn’t care.
Even Coach Park knew little about Cha Jin-hee’s skating ability.
But that said.
‘If we’re lucky, it’s a jackpot.’
Until now, we’d lacked the funds for choreography, so Coach has been writing it herself.
If Cha Jin-hee joined us here, we’d essentially be gaining a dedicated choreographer.
The question was how much she actually knew about skating.
Of course, every technique has its own name, so in theory it would be possible with just paper and pencil. In theory, that is.
So I steered the conversation in a different direction.
“The way you mentioned ‘one of those tangos’ suggests you know quite a bit, asking like that.”
“……Well, to some extent.”
Figure skating and music are inseparable.
There are countless tango pieces used in figure programs.
Since she knew similar music well, the conversation seemed like it would move faster.
Cha Jin-hee picked up her mobile phone, lost in thought.
The song selection she came up with was surprisingly solid.
“Allegro Tangabile. Do you know it?”
“Ah, yes.”
It was a piece by Astor Piazzolla, the father of tango as a musical genre.
Unlike other pieces, it’s characterized by a fast tempo and bright energy.
The piece itself isn’t particularly long, making it good for arrangement.
Best of all, it was a song we already knew.
The Piazzolla playlist from Coach’s car still echoed in my ears.
“Coach, if someone else chose the same song, whether by coincidence or design, your competitiveness could suffer. Think about it.”
“Ha……”
Coach exhaled slowly and lowered her head.
Now was the time to press.
I didn’t wait for an answer and continued.
“Honestly, I’ve been thinking about that too. She’s the kind of skater who goes to Canada for intensive training—if the music overlaps on top of that, I’d really lose confidence……”
I made the most pitiful expression I could manage.
She’d always looked after me like a daughter, so she’d probably be willing to indulge my desire to do well.
And.
“……Alright, then. Let’s see today’s practice first.”
A de facto approval had been given.
“Cha Seo—Cha Jin-hee, was it? I trust there’s a reason you recommended her so strongly. Isn’t there?”
“……Yes.”
Cha Jin-hee now had a slightly more determined expression.
“Do you happen to know how to skate?”
“!”
At the unexpected question, her eyes widened.
“Um, well. That is.”
“What if a girl who’s choreographing a figure program doesn’t know how to skate?”
Coach immediately wore an awkward expression.
Somewhat exaggerated, as if deliberately contrived.
……Wait, didn’t I look like that earlier?
Anyway, it seemed to have worked well to provoke Cha Jin-hee.
She hemmed and hawed for a bit before quickly borrowing some skate boots.
And.
“Um.”
Park Ji-ho, who’d been watching this entire mess unfold, quietly raised his hand.
“Is that really that important?”
“Figure skating is a sport that involves art, after all.”
“That’s why I worked so hard on the choreography.”
“Ah.”
Park Ji-ho nodded as if he understood.
Stop looking at me with such pity.
I sighed and climbed back onto the ice.
Cha Jin-hee, now in skates, wobbled toward me.
“Should we just look at something simple?”
“Pardon?”
“You know how to do a Biellmann, right?”
Coach started by having her do a few basic movements, then progressed to five types of Single Axel jumps.
Cha Jin-hee executed those movements with surprising ease, as if her earlier hesitation had been a lie.
If I hadn’t quit during the Novice category, I might have given the National Championships a real shot.
I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved that I’d eliminated one fewer competitor, or to feel sorry about it all.
“All right, then.”
I did a few more laps around the rink and headed back toward them.
Coach Park’s expression had turned even more resolute.
“Let’s try revising the choreography, just as you said.”
The Returner’s Ice — Chapter 7
E-book Publication Date | June 5, 2026

Author | Korkarolli
Publishers | Heo Heung-beom, Park Geon-won
Published by | Potent

Address | [04783] 10th Floor, 8 Yeonmujiang 11-gil, Seongdong-gu, Seoul
Phone | 02-6320-8500
Fax | 02-6320-8585

UCI | G720:N+A101-20260514092.0007
List Price | Not for Sale

© Korkarolli 2026

This e-book is protected by copyright law.
This e-book has been published under contract with the author, and without written consent from both parties, reproduction, copying, distribution, and sharing in any form are prohibited.

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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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