The Trashy PD Has To Survive as an Idol - Chapter 108

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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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108

[Me: Joo Woo-sung]

I sent him a message out of the blue after so long, and Joo Woo-sung’s reply came back within minutes.

[Joo Woo-sung: Haha;]
[Joo Woo-sung: Nah]
[Me: Seriously?]

“This bastard….”

I stared at my phone like it was Joo Woo-sung himself, bewildered, when his excuse came through quickly via message.

[Joo Woo-sung: Come on~ how would I know?]
[Joo Woo-sung: I can barely remember my own schedule, let alone The Dun’s]

There was no way he didn’t know. Even a nobody like Dae Pa-sung gathered information ahead of a comeback. Of course, being a nobody, I knew absolutely nothing about Black Call’s comeback.
He clearly knew, but since the comeback was already locked in, it was hard to push it back, and timing-wise there seemed to be no disadvantage for us anyway. He must have just gone ahead with it.
But making a bigger fuss about it seemed a bit pathetic.
Besides, we couldn’t delay our schedule any further because of the commitments we already had lined up.

‘To put it simply?’

We were screwed.
Too irritated to even respond, I just glared at the screen when Joo Woo-sung suddenly went off on his own tangent.

[Joo Woo-sung: Wait… but thinking about Seo Ho-yoon, this is ridiculous]
[Joo Woo-sung: You messed up last time too]
[Joo Woo-sung: You only contact your senior when times like this]
[Joo Woo-sung: Is your friendship with Woo-sung a joke???]
[Me: Yes]

I answered with utmost sincerity and slid my phone to the side.

“What are you doing?”
“Just… texting with someone who doesn’t even know gratitude….”
“Hm?”

Two songs arranged from overseas compositions, four songs that Kang Yi-chae had worked on. The first mini-album consisting of six tracks in total was grueling, no matter how many months we’d had to work on it.
On top of that, when we renegotiated the contract terms, Dae Pa-sung deliberately worked us to the bone. From university festivals to minor events, they crammed every spare moment full. Over the past few months, I’d been sleeping only three to four hours a day.
Everyone in the Recording Studio had collapsed like zombies, but the Manager came rushing over with drinks.

“But this title track is seriously so good!”
“Manager….”
“Drink this and get back to it!”

That at least calmed me down a bit. After drinking a frappuccino piled high with whipped cream and getting some energy from the sugar rush, Sung Ji-won said to Kang Yi-chae.

“Can you play it one more time?”
“Yeah. Of course.”

As Kang Yi-chae tapped the keyboard, music flowed out. Through the dark atmosphere and the sharp, stabbing beat that poured forth, I could hear Kang Yi-chae’s voice from the guide recording.

“You’re really amazing.”

Kim Sung-hyun pulled his hood over his head and tightened the drawstring, marveling at it.

“Yi-chae’s embarrassed~.”
“…I don’t even want to compliment anymore, seriously.”
“But why did you change the direction?”

While Jung Da-jun unwrapped several pieces of candy and stuffed them in his mouth all at once, Sung Ji-won picked up the empty candy wrappers and threw them in the trash as he asked.

“Well, we’d already finished recording the B-sides, but you completely scrapped them.”
“Oh, that….”

Kang Yi-chae thought for a moment, then scratched his head.

“The title track’s already set so we can’t change that, but we can change the B-sides, right? I felt like we needed something stronger. Our Black Call seniors and we are coming back around the same time anyway.”

That’s right. It was indeed like that.
The memory of ignoring Joo Woo-sung’s texts—saying he felt betrayed, that I was really annoying, pouring out his frustrations—flickered from somewhere distant and then faded away.

“They’ll pull out a beat that absolutely kills it over there… but honestly, it would be a bit boring if we stuck to the original plan.”
“Hm?”

I lifted my head from where I’d been sprawled out behind the sofa.
Kang Yi-chae was thinking about something like that?

“I thought it would be better to switch to a completely different genre. Not that we’d win, but I figured a fresh attempt would make us stand out more.”
“…So that’s why the track is rock?”
“Yeah. We tried it with Da-jun, right? The view count is relatively low… but the response has been the best. Lots of comments too.”

Kang Yi-chae, speaking with unexpected seriousness, spun his chair around.

“No matter how much I talked about new challenges, we’ve still put in some effort and tested whether it could actually succeed commercially.”
“Ooh.”
“But who knows, right? We won’t know the results until we see them.”

Kang Yi-chae yawned widely, looking tired. I gazed at him with slightly moved eyes.
This guy seemed completely uninterested in commercial success….
So you’ve finally realized that viewership is everything!

Ding!

[I can see all those strange thoughts you’re having….]

“Do you have any idea how shocked I was when you suddenly said you were doing rock?”
“Our maknae, is that even the right word?”
“I just learned it at school yesterday~.”

Jung Da-jun bickered with Kang Yi-chae as usual.
Sung Ji-won, accustomed to it, left the two of them alone and watched the rock cover video they’d performed during last blind date show. Since it was rearranged to match the hybrid rock aesthetic, it looked like a completely different song.
…And then, once more, we played the title track we’d been practicing all along.

‘Even a tone-deaf person would like this.’

I wasn’t certain.
Whether this song was truly good enough to even compare with the best, or not. Whether it was a song that, even if we didn’t get first place, could at least offer some consolation—’Wow, this really was an amazing song.’
And as far as I knew, there was only one person in my circle who could judge that.
I suddenly searched for him on my phone, gazed at his impressive discography that appeared, and then I rose from the sofa.

“I need to take care of something real quick.”
“Grab me a Melona on your way back.”
“Stop eating that stuff, you’re getting old.”
“…Am I really at that age already?”
“Better start preparing now.”

I left those idiots spouting nonsense behind and stepped outside. I sat in the dingy Company Lobby for a moment, deliberating, then picked up my phone.

[Huh?]

A brief dial tone, then a voice I hadn’t heard in ages greeted me.

[What is it, you lunatic. Long time?]
“Composer, hello.”
[What’s the occasion for calling?]
“What do you mean, us? We’re close.”
[You bastard, you never contact me and now you suddenly do—it’s seriously creepy….]

Lim Hyun-sung flicked a lighter on the other end, probably lighting a cigarette. A peculiar exhaustion seeped through in her voice.

“Are you busy these days?”
[I’m always busy.]
“Well, your compositions are so good. Everyone’s been asking for them. You’re so swamped, I can’t even ask you for favors anymore….”
[….]
“…Haha. Was it that obvious?”

Lim Hyun-sung, who would normally have cursed me out, was oddly quiet. Then, after a moment, her voice took on an irritated edge, turning sharp.

[Seo Ho-yoon. So what is it.]
“….”
[Stop grinning and get to the point.]

…She’s being sensitive today.
Actually, now that I think about it, she was pretty prickly the last time I saw her too.
Lim Hyun-sung is sensitive and meticulous, yet somehow… surprisingly soft underneath. That’s why I’ve always liked her quite a bit.

“…Composer.”

So it was worth throwing this out there.

“I’m working on a Black Call track. What do you think of it?”
[What do you mean?]
“Compared to Kang Yi-chae’s composition.”
[…Are you really trying to compete with Black Call?]

Not exactly. That’s not it….

“…Setting that aside, how’s the track itself?”

I posed the question with a deliberate pause, and Lim Hyun-sung fell silent for a long moment. Actually, I thought I heard faint muttering—a couple of curses—from the other end of the line. Still, I waited without saying anything.
Then the answer came.

[You’re… really something else.]
“….”
[Did you call just to confirm that? It’s strange. Seo Ho-yoon stretches his legs where there’s room to stretch, but he wouldn’t deliberately step on me.]

Lim Hyun-sung harbored more jealousy, pride in her reputation, and ambition than one might expect. Yet what was remarkable was that she recognized these ugly aspects of herself with perfect clarity.
I recalled how, when she created that fan song before, she’d been so shaken by Kang Yi-chae’s composition that her pride took a hit—and yet she’d ultimately given him meaningful feedback. With that memory in mind, I waited.

[Could you possibly….]
“….”
[…Damn it, you already know.]
“Yes.”

I shifted my gaze and recalled the composer’s name from the track I’d seen earlier.

“I saw it.”

[Crust
Composer: Kim Young-seok, Blue Tiger]

Originally it was supposed to be Lim Hyun-sung’s composition, but another name had been added—the guitarist from the band whose track she’d taken.
The name of the composer who’d been plagiarized.

“You’ve been through quite a lot. You must have anticipated the backlash.”
[…The calls won’t stop coming. We’re keeping it quiet, but… can we really keep it hidden?]
“….”
[…Sigh.]

Lim Hyun-sung exhaled slowly.

[…I knew it, but accepting it as reality and admitting it was hell. That I’m an ugly person…. That I have no talent. I realized it again watching your members.]

‘It’s begun.’

Words that geniuses occasionally speak. A composer without talent could never rise as high as Lim Hyun-sung. No matter how much self-promotion, no matter how much plagiarism. Lim Hyun-sung was a genius, and no matter what controversies surrounded him, every song he created couldn’t be tainted with filth. At least not musically.

[Don’t come to me anymore from now on.]
“….”
[Kang Yi-chae. That guy’s a genius.]

When a genius composer acknowledges a fellow member… if I were the villain, I might have felt exhilaration, but this was just….

[You know?]

I kept my mouth shut, rubbing the back of my neck as I listened to the voice coming through the phone.

[Kang Yi-chae can play just about any instrument. That helped a lot. But playing instruments and composition sense are completely different things.]

‘Kang Yi-chae….’

It was slightly unexpected.
I knew he could handle instruments to some degree from making fan songs, but to the point where even the picky Lim Hyun-sung acknowledged it….
For now, I’d just listen without comment as Lim Hyun-sung continued.

[Of course his sense is inferior to mine right now. But I poured money into studying at a music conservatory in the United States and conducted myself that way in this industry, but he’s different.]
“Yes.”
[He… inspires awe in me.]

Listening to that confession with his pride laid bare, I mentally calculated, comparing Kang Yi-chae’s composition with Lim Hyun-sung’s Black Call tracks. And as expected, Lim Hyun-sung, anticipating that I would do exactly that, laughed.

[I can hear your brain working from here, Seo Ho-yoon. I’ll just tell you myself.]

And… Lim Hyun-sung finally admitted it.

[Fine, Ho-yoon.]
“….”
[Kang Yi-chae’s composition. …looking at just the song itself, it might actually be better than mine.]

The fact that Lim Hyun-sung, someone with such fierce pride, would say something like this meant that it was possible to win on musicality alone.
After finishing my rough calculations, I spoke matter-of-factly.

“Thank you for the answer.”
[…Ha, you bastard. I really hate you.]
“Is that so? That’s a shame.”

I actually valued you quite a bit.

“How about we grab a meal together next time? I’ll bring some liquor the Composer likes.”
[If you bring a thirty-year Glenfiddich.]
“Do you have a conscience? That costs over a million won.”
[Then I don’t want it. I’ll drink it alone.]

Lim Hyun-sung replied curtly, but ultimately laughed at the end. Yet the self-deprecating tone still lingered. By acknowledging their own filth and heaping it upon themselves, Lim Hyun-sung paradoxically broke through a new wall and took another step forward.

[…Ho-yoon.]
“What is it.”
[…Why does heaven bestow talent like this? It’s fucking ridiculous.]
“….”

I tapped the floor with my shoe heel in the Company Lobby. Our latest song poster hung there.
What could I possibly say?
That your talent transcends the ordinary? That you’re a more successful composer than Kang Yi-chae?
That Lim Hyun-sung, who has already tasted all the glory, now deserves respect for knowing how to let go of themselves….
Many things came to mind, but

“I like it.”

There was only one thing I wanted to say right now.

“The Composer’s music….”
[….]
“Very much.”

Lim Hyun-sung remained silent for a long time. Then I heard the sound of a lighter clicking, as if they were about to light another cigarette.

[…That bastard who used to threaten me is now offering me comfort like this.]

Lim Hyun-sung laughed weakly.

[I guess I really am pathetic right now….]
“….”
[Thank you for the words, at least, Seo Ho-yoon.]

Lim Hyun-sung ended the call right after that.
I stared at my own stupid face reflected in the black screen.

“He’s changed….”

Lim Hyun-sung had changed.
Whether it was because of Kang Yi-chae, or whether my threat had made him feel the danger—I couldn’t tell. But regardless, I rubbed my lips and gazed blankly out the window.

“Even Lim Hyun-sung is changing….”

***

And shortly after, The Dun’s teaser dropped.

[The Dawn The Dun – ‘Kill The Lights’ MV Teaser]

The video uploaded to YouTube was twenty-nine seconds long. As I clicked play, an eerie humming sound echoed, accompanied by the sharp screech of nails dragging across a wall.
The camera moved through a dark corridor, drawing closer and closer to the center of a secret room piled high with documents. In a chair positioned at the center, Seo Ho-yoon sat bound—his uniform, adorned with medals but filthy with blood and dust, hung in tatters, and his face was covered in wounds.

-Flicker….

His face slowly zoomed in as the old fluorescent light flickered, causing the screen to plunge into darkness with each flash.
Engulfed completely in shadow, when the screen came back to life, Kang Yi-chae appeared in a pristine uniform, sitting indifferently by the window inside an ornate train cabin.

-Flicker….

This time, snow fell. Treading through the white snow that had accumulated, Sung Ji-won slowly drew the gun holstered at his thigh and aimed it forward.

-Flicker….

Jung Da-jun stood in a pure white void, and with each step he took, the walls trembled and cracked.

And finally, Kim Sung-hyun appeared standing on the rooftop of a tall abandoned building. With a resolute expression, he reached down and picked up a flag that lay discarded on the ground.

The moment he raised it high.
The screen flickered once, and Seo Ho-yoon in the secret room opened his eyes,

BOOM!!

An explosion erupted, and through the billowing smoke and blood-red flames that burst forth in an instant, the documents stacked everywhere scattered in all directions, engulfing the camera, and the title and The Dun’s name were emblazoned on the black screen.

[ KILL THE LIGHTS
THE DUN ]

That teaser was the signal flare for a post-apocalyptic return.

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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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