The Trashy PD Has To Survive as an Idol - Chapter 285

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

285

“Damn, Seo Ho-yoon really gets under my skin.”

I took a sip of beer and glanced sideways at Joo Woo-sung. He was busy typing away on his phone, apparently messaging the other members.

Interesting guy.
So he’d been putting in the effort, and now he seemed to be getting along quite well with the members.

“The guys are good people.”
“I told you. I’m the troublemaker of the group.”

Joo Woo-sung, catching my meaning immediately, continued speaking while his fingers kept moving.

“If I’d just made up my mind from the start, it would’ve been this easy. I don’t know why I made it so difficult.”

Then he set his phone down on the table and turned his gaze outside.

“We should go film some content too. The schedule’s been pretty open lately, so we need to give the fans something.”
“Oh…”
“Hey, hide that expression, will you? Your face is screaming ‘How did Joo Woo-sung come up with such a thoughtful idea?'”

I just smiled, and he grumbled that a junior like me was being too cheeky.

“But you don’t have any schedules for a while? I thought you’d be making a comeback soon.”
“We don’t.”

Joo Woo-sung picked up a piece of squid and chewed it noisily as he spoke.

“Chae Jung-woo has vocal nodules.”
“Vocal nodules?”

I thought I’d caught wind of most of the gossip circulating through WH Entertainment, but this was the first I’d heard of it.
Joo Woo-sung continued the conversation peacefully, as if discussing an ordinary, unremarkable matter of daily life.

“I think he pushed himself too hard during the tour. He kept insisting he was fine, but he ended up getting diagnosed with vocal nodules early this year.”
“….”
“The company and the members all discussed it extensively, but what else could we do? We had to postpone the comeback. Until Chae Jung-woo recovers.”

He didn’t seem particularly disappointed about it.

“Couldn’t we at least do a short comeback?”
“A half-baked preparation is worse than no preparation at all.”
“Without Chae Jung-woo, right?”
“He’s too popular for that.”

If we released even a single, we’d definitely win the award again this year.
The fact that they made such a firm decision to rest suggested that Chae Jung-woo’s condition was quite serious.
I was quietly washing down my beer when Joo Woo-sung glanced at me and added one more thing.

“Do you understand what I’m saying? This means this year will be the only year Black Call won’t win the award since we started receiving them.”
“….”

His expression was matter-of-fact.
Not seeking sympathy or consolation.
I opened my eyes lazily and spoke in a light tone.

“I’ll gladly take that award then.”
“Seriously, that’s ridiculous. Just because we don’t get it, it automatically goes to you?”

Joo Woo-sung shook his head in disbelief and downed his beer in one go.

“I don’t know what the company will say later, but either way, I’ll keep waiting.”
“Why?”
“Black Call Joo Woo-sung—it has a nice ring to it.”

Despite being awkward with the members until recently, he seemed to have developed considerable attachment to the group. Or perhaps it had grown.

“That’s wise.”

In truth, an idol’s prime is fleeting.
It’s merely the budding of a flower in the span of a lifetime, yet people say the flower has already bloomed for idols.
That’s why agencies push them relentlessly. Naturally, the accumulated consequences of that relentless pushing backfired instead.
And the moment even one member breaks down, the group becomes nearly impossible to recover.

“An idol’s health comes first. If even one member gets sick, an idol’s career can end in a flash… What would have happened if something serious had occurred with Chae Jung-woo?”

Yet somehow, the more I spoke, the more uncomfortable I felt.
As if I were saying something I shouldn’t.

“…The members must have found it a difficult decision too, but we all showed consideration for each other….”

Joo Woo-sung didn’t bother cutting me off. He simply gulped down his beer, staring at me with an unpleasant smile on his face.

“…It was an unavoidable choice to continue group activities together… No, why do you keep looking at me like that?”

Joo Woo-sung laughed outright.

“Struck a nerve, have I?”
“….”
“Funny and cute, aren’t you?”

Even as I made my displeasure obvious, Joo Woo-sung merely scoffed.

“Hey. Among all your countless flaws—enough to reach the sky—you know what the worst one is?”
“…What is it?”
“A smart guy like you loses his mind the moment he gets tangled up in other people’s affairs.”

Then he pointed at the beer bottle I’d been drinking and flicked his finger. When I handed it over obediently, he pushed me out of the bedroom by my back.

“Woo-sung’s tired and needs rest. Get going, and call if things get rough.”

Before I could say anything, the door slammed shut.

“Sigh….”

These guys, all of them….

‘Why would I call you when I’m struggling, you bastard….’

I turned around and gathered up the t-shirts from the gift shop that had been thrown on the floor along with me. I needed the members’ help to safely complete all my Quests. No matter how well I performed alone, I couldn’t enter the first division or complete the scenario Quest.
I also understood well that to do so, I had to show the members a certain degree of trust.
Yet even knowing this, there was still a part of me that kept trying to gloss over things and get by however I could.
Yet on the other hand, there was still a part of me that tried to brush it off and move on somehow.

‘Nothing in this world comes easy.’

But if I really needed to show them some faith….
There might be a way to demonstrate it, at least a little.

“…Hey.”

After checking my surroundings, I called out to the System Window in a hushed voice.

[If you’re asking for my opinion, I always support Seo Ho-yoon. However, if you could just consider the members’ feelings a bit more in this matter….]

“Don’t. Stop talking.”

I waved my hand through the blue window as it eagerly spilled out characters like it had been waiting for this moment.

“Show me Jung Da-jun’s stats.”

[…Yes, yes.]

I was planning to check Jung Da-jun’s stats again—the ones I’d tried to look at before but hadn’t finished.
As I scanned through the numbers that appeared in sequence, I suddenly stopped in my tracks.

[Jung Da-jun
Our cute maknae of The Dun, still diligently practicing.

Singing: B-
Dancing: A+ (S-)
Entertainment: B+
Acting: C-
Charm: A-
???: ???]

I blinked a few times, rubbed my eyes with my hand, then slowly scanned through it again.

“…What is this?”

Was I reading something wrong?

***

Rough breathing echoed throughout the practice room.

“Whew, this is exhausting.”

Catching his breath, Jung Da-jun meticulously examined his dance lines.
Dancing through the pain was still difficult, but as he grew accustomed to it, his movements seemed to cling to his body more naturally—so much so that even Kim Sung-hyun offered praise from time to time.

‘Just a little more.’

Recently, Jung Da-jun had become anxious to an almost obsessive degree, even by his own assessment. Without knowing why, he was gripped by an endless, formless dread.
As anxiety crept up on him once more, he stumbled mid-step and collapsed flat onto the floor.
Just then, the practice room door burst open and Kim Sung-hyun entered.

“Maknae, what are you doing?”
“Ah, Sung-hyun… I’m contemplating the meaning of life.”
“Good grief.”

Kim Sung-hyun sat down beside the youngest member, who was waving one arm around lazily, and held out a box decorated with donuts.

“Seo Ho-yoon brought this. It’s for you.”
“Huh?”
“He wanted to give it to you directly, but he said you’d probably avoid him anyway.”
“Huh??”

Jung Da-jun jolted upright in surprise, his expression turning aggrieved.

“No, when did I ever avoid him! It’s not like that… it’s just…”

If only he’d understand how I feel.
Whenever they faced each other, his anger would inevitably melt away—there was nothing he could do about it.

“…Maybe I did avoid him.”
“Yeah, I thought so.”

Jung Da-jun sighed deeply while staring at the ceiling, then sat up and grabbed his phone. He pulled up a clip from The Dun’s Connected stage performance at the recent Rix Cup.
Below it, comments in various languages filled the screen. Most of them were praise directed at The Dun.

“Watching it again?”
“Yeah. I still feel like something’s missing…”

Occasionally, there were negative comments, but such reactions no longer bothered me.
Perhaps it was because people like Seo Ho-yoon and Kang Yi-chae, who could laugh off malicious comments without a care, surrounded me. There’s an old saying that even a dog at a village school learns to recite poetry after three years—and since I’d been with my members for nearly three years now, I could generally brush past such things with indifference.
I easily dismissed the staff member’s subtle mockery from behind, calling us empty shells packaged to suit public taste.
Because it wasn’t true.
The Dun had never once failed to give our absolute best.
Instead of wasting time worrying about such things, I practiced a little harder and tried to keep up with my older members.

“But why are you so anxious?”
“…Is it that obvious?”
“Very.”
“…I’m not sure. Maybe it’s because I want to do really well. …And…”
“Jung Da-jun?”

Jung Da-jun clamped his mouth shut.
He knew Seo Ho-yoon’s words weren’t wrong.
It was just that he felt a bit hurt because it was Seo Ho-yoon saying such things.

‘But you did the same thing, Hyung!’

Seo Ho-yoon acted as though his heart could stop or his ankle could break and it wouldn’t matter.
Yet when I merely fell, he was the first to rush over, check my body, and then exploded with anger.
When I thought about it, he was always consistent.
I remember his face during the final relay race in “Victory is Mine”—the way he rushed forward in panic. Despite keeping his walls up with all the members back then, he carried the team’s youngest member on his back and sprinted forward as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Jung Da-jun found Seo Ho-yoon frustrating.
He was infinitely proactive about the other members’ affairs, yet he simply brushed aside his own.

“I don’t really understand what Ho-yoon is thinking.”

Kim Sung-hyun ruffled Jung Da-jun’s hair affectionately.

“Who among us really understands what he’s thinking?”
“…”
“Even Buddha probably wouldn’t know.”

When Seo Ho-yoon was injured during the gymnastics concert preparation, the members had opposed him taking the stage. But it didn’t work at all, and eventually Kim Sung-hyun, Sung Ji-won, and Kang Yi-chae simply sighed and quickly accepted the situation.
As I sat there alone, displeased and pouting, Kang Yi-chae poked me repeatedly and laughed.

“He’s the type who won’t show you until he’s ready.”
“Huh?”
“Then we just have to wait for him to show us.”

And it seemed Kang Yi-chae had found his own way to support Seo Ho-yoon.
But I still didn’t know how to truly be of help to him.

“Brother, that’s the problem. I just don’t understand….”

I was pathetic, doing nothing but worrying. I wondered if I was really just too young for this. My head had always felt muddled, but when those words—*immature*—actually came from Seo Ho-yoon’s mouth, something in me snapped. I’d bolted from the practice room and run laps around it five times, yet the anger wouldn’t settle.
My mind had always been unsettled, but when I actually heard the word “childish” come out of Seo Ho-yoon’s mouth, I couldn’t help but flare up. I even stormed out of the Practice Room alone and ran about five laps around the area, but I couldn’t calm down at all.

“…I can’t do anything for you.”

Kim Sung-hyun, who had been quietly listening to the Youngest Member’s complaints, opened the box and handed him a donut.

“…Yes.”
“…Yeah.”

With a gloomy expression, Jung Da-jun bit into the donut firmly. The round donut transformed into a semicircle.

“Seo Ho-yoon specifically bought only the flavors you like.”
“Seo Ho-yoon apparently bought them on purpose in only the flavors you like.”

For some reason, my nose tingled and I wanted to go to Seo Ho-yoon right away and apologize for acting foolishly, but my body stubbornly remained glued to the practice room floor.

“I’m not sure about that either. It’s dangerous like Ho-yoon said.”
“Right.”
“Okay.”

A faint smile played at the corners of Kim Sung-hyun’s lips.

“….”
“So he’s not really that bad of a guy—well, actually, sometimes he’s pretty unreasonable and I wonder if he’s genuinely insane, but he’s not completely stubborn.”
“…?”
“Watch Seo Ho-yoon’s reaction carefully when we perform tomorrow.”
“When you perform on stage tomorrow, pay close attention to Seo Ho-yoon’s reaction.”

Jung Da-jun still had his eyebrows furrowed as he held a donut in each hand, his mouth working busily.
Kim Sung-hyun couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of The Dun’s maknae being so characteristically himself.

“He’s always been a bit irritable, and that’s what makes him endearing.”

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————