Episode 132: Since I’ve Regressed, I’ll Quit Being an Idol


Episode 132: The Crazy Bastard of This Area Is Me (3)

 

It wasn’t anything particularly special.

                                                 

The music playing at a volume loud enough to lightly overlay the surrounding chatter.

 

The kids dancing in sync with that song.

 

The place where I’m standing now is where people make a living by nurturing idols.

 

So that sight is so commonplace it’s practically everyday life.

 

But the eyes of those watching this everyday scene are filled with emotions quite detached from the ordinary.

 

“Wow…”

 

“What is this?”

 

“…”

 

If I had to describe that emotion, it would be something like bewilderment or shock.

 

They’re just looking at something that’s completely normal here—why are they reacting like that?

 

Soon, the reason leaked out from among the gallery.

 

“Baek So-young… that kid has become a completely different person from when she auditioned?”

 

That murmur came from Jeon Seon-woo, one of MyWay’s founding members who has seen countless promising trainees with his own eyes.

 

“Still, So-young was one of the kids we were training… For me, it’s Han Chae-kyung who’s more…”

 

The murmur that followed came from Jo Dae-hwan, who has now fully settled into his role as one of MyWay’s core veterans.

 

The reason these two men—who, in slightly old-fashioned terms, have gone through all kinds of hardships—could only stand there stunned.

 

It’s because the three kids dancing in front of their eyes to the melody of Orion’s First Step are none other than Nari, Chae-kyung, and So-young—the very trainees selected for the special curriculum in preparation for Project Trinity.

 

Standing in the center, naturally, is Nari.

 

Chae-kyung is on her right, So-young on the opposite side.

 

There are some changes in formation, but since the choreography originally meant for five people has been simplified for three, Nari naturally spends relatively more time in the center.

 

“First Step’s choreography isn’t that difficult… but even taking that into account, this is impressive.”

 

The one who made that evaluation was Ailee.

 

As she said, First Step’s choreography isn’t particularly hard.

 

Because the debut preparation period was extremely short compared to other groups, high-difficulty moves couldn’t be included.

 

That said, it’s not fair to call First Step’s choreography outright easy.

 

Compared to E-GIS’s Glaze or Polaris’s Trident from the same period, it inevitably had fewer impactful moves—so instead, the choreography is densely packed with detailed elements.

 

Catching those points is also a legitimate skill in itself.

 

‘In that sense, the only one who can get a passing score is Nari.’

 

If evaluated coldly, that’s the case—but among everyone gathered here, there’s no one who doesn’t know roughly how skilled Chae-kyung and So-young were before.

 

Relatively speaking, there probably isn’t a single trainee within MyWay who has shown this level of growth.

 

“It’s been about two weeks since Yujin-ssi said he was going to start properly, right? And in that time… they’ve improved this much. Literally a textbook case of eye-opening progress.”

 

Just as Seo Yoon-je said, considering that the kids have only been receiving proper training for about two weeks, it would probably be hard to find anyone in the entire country who fits that category.

 

“From now on, whenever Yujin-ssi brings someone in, we should just support them without asking questions, huh?”

 

At Seo Yoon-je’s final verdict, Jeon Seon-woo, Jo Dae-hwan, Ailee, and the rest of the gallery all nodded in agreement.

 

“No, seriously—how did he know? Honestly, even though I was the one who cast So-young, I never thought she could get this good.”

 

“I’m a little curious too. With Han Chae-kyung, even for Yujin-ssi, I thought ‘this might be pushing it’… No, wait, I probably shouldn’t ask. If I hear the reason, it’ll probably be so absurd that I’ll just feel inferior.”

 

“Aren’t you jumping to conclusions too fast? Dance is just the basics for now, and vocal training hasn’t even started yet.”

 

“That’s true, but… Ailee. After seeing something like this, don’t you feel more anticipation than worry? Plus, the vocal trainer is Yujin-ssi himself?”

 

“…”

 

While Ailee responded to Jo Dae-hwan and Jeon Seon-woo’s not-really-questions with a wry smile, she couldn’t answer Jeon Seon-woo’s counter and ended up averting her eyes.

 

Watching that, one thought couldn’t help but come to mind.

 

‘No, seriously—how is this actually working?’

 

In truth, the one who’s most bewildered right now is probably me.

 

‘Yeah, I knew it was possible.’

 

Chae-kyung and So-young were both pioneers who opened a new horizon called the fifth generation in the girl group scene, and they shone as the central figures at the peak of that generation.

 

No matter how skilled a gardener I might be, if they hadn’t possessed the fundamental talent to bloom in the first place, achieving the feat of drawing a line across the Korean music industry would have been impossible.

 

But even taking that talent into account, the growth speed they’re showing right now is still at an unbelievable level.

 

‘Even Tae-oh wasn’t this fast.’

 

Tae-oh, who has now firmly established himself as Orion’s center at this point, took nearly six months to reach his current level.

 

Of course, comparing Tae-oh—who came from a band vocal background—with these two heavenly idol material kids is comparing apples to oranges, but even setting that aside, the current situation feels more like a transformation than mere growth, and it’s just as hard to wrap my head around.

 

“If you build up the physical base first and then start training, you get results like this…”

 

The most plausible hypothesis that could explain the current situation slipped out of Seo Yoon-je’s mouth.

 

The only real difference is that Chae-kyung and So-young met me before they had built up any solid foundation of their own.

 

I don’t know what kind of process they went through before I took an interest in them, but at the very least, they weren’t spending all day grinding their bodies like this.

 

“Should we try introducing the Jeon team leader system?”

 

“Huh? Even so, that might be going too far…”

 

“Why? You saw this too, Jeon team leader—you said it makes you anticipate things. If the output is this good, isn’t it worth trying?”

 

“Well… that’s…”

 

Jeon Seon-woo trailed off, glancing slightly in my direction.

 

For a brief moment, our eyes met and I got a vague sense of what unspoken words he was holding back.

 

“The higher the potential ceiling you can expect, the lower the floor might be as well. Considering the resources and time that would be consumed in the process, a full-scale rollout might be a bit difficult, no?”

 

“Director Jo just said everything I was thinking. I agree. You said you’d give Yujin-ssi full support going forward, but honestly… the level of support poured into this case was already debut-group tier—truly full-scale in every sense. Expanding that to every single trainee… no matter how you look at it, it’s too much.”

 

Emboldened by Jo Dae-hwan’s backup, Jeon Seon-woo finally voiced his thoughts clearly.

 

In the middle of that, I noticed the kids might feel burdened by parts of the conversation, so my gaze shifted toward them.

 

‘Phew.’

 

Fortunately, the music was loud and they were focused on the choreography, so there didn’t seem to be any particular reaction from them. I let out an inward sigh of relief.

 

“For now, cases like this one should be left entirely to Yujin-ssi… As for full-scale implementation, we can think about it later once we’ve accumulated enough rewards to average it out. It won’t be too late then.”

 

“Tch. If you’re going to say it like that even after giving the budget, then I’ve got nothing to add.”

 

Hearing Seo Yoon-je’s final words, I let out another inward sigh of relief.

 

It seemed like even his last comment had been closer to a joke than anything serious.

 

There was no way, but if Seo Yoon-je had actually meant it seriously, I would have stepped in to stop him.

 

‘Is it really that easy, like he’s saying?’

 

No matter how much I know about the future, I can’t bring every kid with talent on the level of Chae-kyung or So-young into MyWay. And even if I could, there’s no guarantee that every single one of them would be able to keep up with this insane level of hardcore training.

 

If I had to dig into the reasons, perhaps it’s the synergy created by their exceptional talent combined with the passion they built up during the time they spent solidly building their physical base—something beyond ordinary circumstances.

 

‘Chae-kyung and So-young had reasons that made it worth doing.’

 

Chae-kyung had her family circumstances, So-young had the loyalty she felt toward the trainees she trained with at Jooyul.

 

There might also be things like the trust I showed them contributing to it,

 

‘But that’s something I can’t know for sure.’

 

No matter how well I think I know them, I can’t peek into people’s hearts, so going that far feels a bit much.

 

In any case, one thing is certain: the abnormal level-up speed of Chae-kyung and So-young is giving a huge boost to my plans.

 

If the biggest unknown factor—choreography—has been resolved like this, then the remaining one, ‘vocals,’ is precisely my area of expertise, isn’t it?

 

‘If things keep going like this… I’ll be able to give them a really satisfying backstab, won’t I?’

 

Ryu Je-hoon, Heo Yul-bok.

 

The big-name famous producers coming from Sunshine, Overwhelm, JWY.

 

All of them are thinking Chae-kyung and So-young are villains, traps, holes—revealing their true charm a little sooner will hit even harder.

 

They might curse me in a different sense then.

 

For deliberately hiding their skills and causing chaos in the member lineup.

 

‘That doesn’t matter.’

 

The people who’d complain about that are only the producers from the three major agencies participating in Trinity anyway. There’s obviously no need to care about those old-timers who are going to become has-beens in the not-too-distant future.

 

No matter how much they yap, if the results prove it, it’ll just be the hollow cries of the defeated.

 

The only one worth worrying about is Heo Yul-bok,

 

‘That hyung would probably just curse once and be done with it.’

 

That profanity would come more from self-deprecating regret than actual anger—regret that he won’t get to touch the debut album of kids like that.

 

He might act gruff on the outside, but deep down he’s the type who’d be genuinely happy about the emergence of good singers, so there’s probably no need to worry.

 

‘Ryu Je-hoon?’

 

That guy would probably love it.

 

A participant everyone thought was a villain turning out to be the heroine? That’s ratings gold handed to him on a platter.

 

Would Ryu Je-hoon really turn down the bait after he so eagerly bit the opening I showed him?

 

From closely observing him since that day, aside from the chronic PD disease of going crazy over ratings, he doesn’t seem like that bad of a person.

 

‘If I had to pin it down…’

 

He’s the type who’d pamper and cheer you on without thinking twice about the background—as long as you deliver the ratings.

 

Even if someone actually did complain,

 

“If you’re so jealous, why didn’t you do the same?”

 

I wouldn’t say it outright like that, but he’d probably take a similar stance.

 

Ziiing.

 

Just as I was thinking that, my phone vibrated lightly.

 

[Ryu Je-hoon PD-nim]

 

Speak of the tiger and he appears—what a guy, definitely not a gentleman.

 

How did he call right at the moment I was thinking about him, like some kind of ghost?

 

“I’ll step out to take a call for a minute.”

 

“Sure, go ahead. We’ll stick around and watch a bit more, okay?”

 

When I told Seo Yoon-je I’d be stepping away briefly, that was his reply.

 

A faint, strange sense of being slighted passed through me for a second, but I turned my gaze toward the kids.

 

‘They still don’t seem to have noticed…’

 

Looking at Chae-kyung and So-young concentrating on Nari’s feedback, they didn’t appear to have realized that important people from the gallery were here.

 

Nari probably knows and is deliberately giving stronger feedback because of it,

 

‘Well, Nari isn’t the type to feel burdened by something like this.’

 

It didn’t seem like it would interfere with practice, so I nodded and stepped out of the practice room.

 

By then the call had dropped, so I redialed—busy signal.

 

A message soon arrived notifying me of the overlapping call.

 

“Hello? Producer Han Yujin, it’s Ryu Je-hoon. Were you busy just now?”

 

After waiting a moment and answering the re-dialed call, Ryu Je-hoon poured out words in a rush.

 

“I was watching the kids practice.”

 

“Ah, then should I call back later?”

 

“No, it’s fine.”

 

He didn’t seem like the type to call just for pointless small talk, so I answered that way—and my guess was spot on.

 

“The first filming date for Trinity has been set, so I’m calling to let you know.”

 

The long-awaited signal announcing D-Day rang out.

 

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TL Note:

Want to read ahead?

Chapters 133–160 are available on My Patreon (Premium Tier) together with 5 other novels.


Link: https://www.patreon.com/cw/Vritratls


[This series is in the “Regressed Idol” collection]


If you joined mainly for this novel, a quick message would really help me decide whether to continue translating it.

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