The Trashy PD Has To Survive as an Idol - Chapter 348

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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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348

Kim Sung-hyun had been spending nights lately without sleep.
Was it because he was the eldest among many younger brothers, or was it a conjecture born from the experience of a leader who had gone through thick and thin with the members for nearly three years?

‘Seo Ho-yoon seems off these days.’

He understood Seo Ho-yoon’s decision to stay at home rather than the dormitory for a while due to his younger brother’s health issues. He would have prioritized family in such circumstances himself.
Besides, he participated in practice sporadically and never missed music video shoots or regular scheduled events. He always worked hard as usual.
Yet the reason Kim Sung-hyun was concerned about Seo Ho-yoon was,

‘Why does he look increasingly haggard?’

Judging by appearances alone, the patient seemed to be Seo Ho-yoon, not Seo Ho-jin.
What on earth was happening in this situation?
As he tossed and turned, unable to sleep even as the dawn moon ripened with worry, a cautious knock sounded and the door opened, with Sung Ji-won poking his face through.

“Hyun-sung, you awake?”

Kim Sung-hyun, pushing his upper body up groggily, ran his hand through his hair.

“No. Come in.”

Sung Ji-won sat down carefully on the floor near the bed and spoke hesitantly.

“You know, when we did that underwater shoot… I think Ho-yoon might have passed out back then….”
“You think so too?!!”

Kim Sung-hyun’s voice rose involuntarily as he shot up from the bed.

“Even though the members joke around harshly with each other, we’ve never joked about safety. Especially Ho-yoon is more sensitive about that. I was too startled at the time to ask anything beyond if he was okay, but when I thought back on it later, something felt a bit off.”

Kim Sung-hyun let out a heavy sigh and roughly splashed water on his face.

“…Does a common cold usually cause someone to lose consciousness?”
“Well… I’ve never been in the water when I had one.”
“Normally it wouldn’t…”

That Seo Ho-yoon was a self-sufficient adult, and that at some point he displayed a maturity far beyond his years—
Even knowing exactly what kind of person he was, Kim Sung-hyun couldn’t help but worry. Though he recognized it bordered on overprotection.

‘Who gets that sick anyway.’

They’d gone together to watch the Rising Rookies mentor performance where Kang Yi-chae had appeared as part of a group schedule, and after telling the Manager he was heading back, he’d vanished—only to reappear at the Hospital Emergency Room.
By then, Seo Ho-yoon was already in cardiac arrest.

‘How could I not worry.’

Kim Sung-hyun scratched his raised eyebrow with his thumbnail as he spoke.

“Why don’t you just ask the company for help? WH Entertainment seems to take decent care of their artists.”
“I can’t. It could disrupt the schedule.”

Kim Sung-hyun’s expression darkened at the unexpected objection. Sung Ji-won raised his hand as if asking for a moment’s patience, then slowly added his reasoning.

“It might be getting ahead of myself, but they could use this as an excuse to push back the comeback. The company was already pressuring us to suspend activities, and Ho-yoon barely managed to stop that—”
“What?! Seo Ho-yoon stopped that?!”
“—Ho-yoon wouldn’t want… wait, you didn’t know?”

Sung Ji-won’s eyes widened in surprise as he looked at Kim Sung-hyun, then he awkwardly averted his gaze.

“Why haven’t you mentioned this to me until now?”
“Oh, no, Sung-hyun, it’s just that…”
“There’s a rumor about someone pushing from above—is that true? Does it have something to do with this?”
“Wait, wait! I don’t know that much either!”

Kim Sung-hyun stared intently at Sung Ji-won, who was waving his hands in protest of the unfairness, then scratched the back of his head vigorously instead of sighing.

“…Fine. Let’s set aside all these secondary issues for now. We’ll keep watching over Seo Ho-yoon.”

Kim Sung-hyun had never considered Seo Ho-yoon the type who could be persuaded or dissuaded by mere words.
Rather, the wisest approach was to draw a line beside him and offer support from there. Sung Ji-won nodded in agreement with this assessment.
When their eyes met, both released a simultaneous sigh.
Though they’d reached a conclusion, Kim Sung-hyun remained deeply unsatisfied.

“I just hope he doesn’t push himself too hard….”

Starting the next day, observation of Seo Ho-yoon began in earnest.

“Ho-yoon, you’re here?”
“Ho-yoon! Can you come over here?”
“Ho-yoon~.”

When he wasn’t paying attention, he hadn’t noticed—but from every direction, people were calling for Seo Ho-yoon.
While he himself was brimming with concern that Ho-yoon might collapse, the man in question moved about with composed indifference, performing his duties faithfully.
And despite being told repeatedly that it was fine, he stubbornly made his way to the Practice Room regardless.

“One, two….”

Kim Sung-hyun led the members from the front while his eyes continuously tracked Seo Ho-yoon.

Today they’d decided to break down the choreography they’d repeated countless times into finer details to emphasize precision.
After setting up cameras for monitoring and running through the routine five times, the music finally stopped.

“Ugh!”

Jung Da-jun, despite being the most physically resilient, was the first to collapse to the floor, gasping heavily and whimpering.

“Why does the choreography feel harder every time we do it….”
“The point choreography is pretty simple though.”

Kang Yi-chae, who’d been chugging water beside him, poked Jung Da-jun repeatedly in rebuttal.

“That’s only because it’s supposed to be easy to follow….”

Turning his gaze from the younger members, Kim Sung-hyun pulled up his shirt to wipe away sweat, then turned his head toward Seo Ho-yoon. With the album release now just around the corner, the Choreographer’s feedback had become increasingly detailed and meticulous.

“Seo Ho-yoon, your expressions have improved considerably compared to last time, but are you running low on stamina lately? Your overall power seems lacking.”
“How should I fix it?”
“Well, first here, at 1 minute 21 seconds—….”

As Seo Ho-yoon reviewed the footage they’d just shot, his feet moving repeatedly, his complexion had turned ashen—not a trace of color remained in his face.
The Choreographer continued instructing him out of necessity, though even he seemed sympathetic, his gaze subtly probing.

“Pay more attention to the isolation. At 1 minute 58 seconds in the group choreography, when you sweep your leg to the side, it needs to have a definite rough edge to it.”
“…Could you tell me the position instead?”
“Position?”
“My right foot that’s suspended in the air—should it move about 3 centimeters to the side?”
“…Uh….”

Watching Seo Ho-yoon alter his movements as he asked “3 centimeters?” and “4 centimeters?”, the Choreographer glitched like a malfunctioning computer. Kim Sung-hyun, already accustomed to such moments, gestured to the Choreographer and pushed Sung Ji-won forward instead, then dragged Seo Ho-yoon back.

“Come over here.”

He then patted his back lightly as he spoke.

“Alright, watch carefully.”

Under normal circumstances, he would have flashed a mischievous smile and cracked some teasing joke, but now he was simply struggling to follow the choreography.

‘What do I do about this?’

The choreography was definitely improving. But there was no sense of ease whatsoever, making Seo Ho-yoon’s naturally fluid dance lines and distinctive presence look pathetic.

‘I hope he performs better on stage.’

“Hey, Seo Ho-yoon.”

If Seo Ho-yoon remained in this state during the actual performance—

“Are you sure you’re okay for the activity?”

—it would be better not to do it at all.
Seo Ho-yoon stopped moving and exhaled sharply through his nose, lifting his chin to focus his hazy eyes on Kim Sung-hyun.

“…Yeah.”

And soon, a smile tugged at the corners of my lips.

“My baby knows how to worry about everything?”
“….”

Kim Sung-hyun hesitated for a moment, then shook his head and moved forward.
That night too, the lights in The Dun’s practice room didn’t go out until late.

.
.
.

“Just kill me already, kill me.”

With my last remaining strength, I punched in the password and collapsed the moment I stepped through the entrance.

“Ugh….”

My torso hit the floor directly, but since anti-slip mats had been installed throughout the entire home for Malang, it didn’t hurt much.

“Damn, Malang, thanks….”

I removed my hat and mask, tossing them aside as I rolled over.

[Abnormal Status Remaining Time: 5 days 12 hours 16 seconds]

“…This is so irritating.”

I furrowed my brow at the System Window occupying one corner of my vision, displaying the penalty period, then exhaled deeply.
While choreographing, my body simply wouldn’t cooperate. My head was pounding and my insides were twisting even at rest—there was no way I could dance properly.
As I ran my fingers through my hair, I suddenly felt something strange in the silence of the home.

“He must have gone to his hometown.”

After finishing overseas filming and taking a vacation, Min Ji-heon had fled with the dog, saying there was a crisis in his relationship with Malang.
Even as I kept reminding myself that I needed to shower, I lay there silently when my phone, shoved in my pocket, suddenly began to vibrate.

[Jung Da-jun: Brother, we bought ice cream on the way back from practice—the kind you like, though I’m not sure why you do.]
[Jung Da-jun: It’s on clearance, so the expiration date is really short. You need to come back quickly, Brother.]
[Sung Ji-won: Ho-yoon, here’s the video the Choreographer sent. Check it out when you have time, haha.]
[Seo Ho-jin: Brother, the Dormitory?]

As I lifted my trembling arms to check the messages on the lock screen,

[Min Ji-heon: Seo Ho-yoon~haha]

Min Ji-heon’s name popped up.

[Min Ji-heon: You’re home right now, right?]
[Min Ji-heon: Um… yeah…]
[Min Ji-heon: I’m really sorry]
[Min Ji-heon: I’m someone who absolutely hates conflict, so I couldn’t help it]
[Min Ji-heon: That guy was kind of scary…]
[Min Ji-heon: Anyway, fighting spirit]
[Min Ji-heon: (praying hands emoji)]

What nonsense is this now.
I gazed at the screen with half-lidded eyes, then tossed my phone aside and closed my eyes.
If it were something important, he would’ve called instead. I’ll just ignore it.

‘If I close my eyes like this, I feel like I might actually die.’

Exhaustion and pain washed over my entire body in waves.
I tried desperately to hold onto my fading consciousness, but my body kept growing heavier and more limp.

Beep, beep beep— beep….

Then the door opened and I heard someone’s footsteps.
It seemed too early for anyone to return, but since they knew the password, I naturally assumed it was the homeowner.

“Hey, about that text earlier—*cough*—what was that?”
“….”

But there was no answer.
Instead, they just tapped me lightly, repeatedly.

“I don’t have the strength right now… Just leave me alone and get out.”

As my thigh was tapped repeatedly again, I let out an irritated shout and forced my eyelids open.

“Yeah, get out alrea—.”

Then I caught sight of those familiar crimson sneakers.
The very shoes Jung Da-jun had gifted to a member on their birthday.

“—dy.”

As I slowly lifted my head, the face of the one who’d been drilling alongside me moments ago came into view.

“What now?”

My gaze locked directly with Kang Yi-chae’s, who was looking down at me with pity.

“Yi-chae doesn’t want to leave.”

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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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