Grab the Regressor by the Collar and Debut! Chapter 18

Chapter 18. The Most Effective Way to Defuse a Bomb (3)

“Seven years. Seven. I’ve been doing this for seven whole years.”

Like someone had flipped his switch off, Seo Taehyun started pouring everything out.

“I endured it all—being forced to do the exact same ‘Cherry Boy’ cutesy stuff over and over, even when I said I wanted to try different songs. They made me do nothing but bright, bubbly concepts, and I still put up with it. I didn’t even complain. Because getting to stand on a stage at all was lucky.”

“……”

“But then I got eliminated in the finale for being ‘fresh.’ They said I was too bright. Too childish. They never even gave me a chance to show anything else.”

He meant Boy’s World, obviously. I remembered the Seo Taehyun I’d watched back then, a complicated feeling in my chest, and just let him talk.

“I endured it when I was stuck doing nothing but events because of the Director. I endured it when I was the only one who couldn’t do anything and had to rot in the practice room because of him. Because I wanted to debut. Because I needed to stand on stage.”

“If you endured that well, you should’ve just endured a little longer.”

“I can endure all I want—I’m never debuting anyway!”

Taehyun snapped and shouted, then startled at his own volume like he’d lost control for a second. He sucked in a breath, and when he almost bit his lip again, he hesitated—remembering what I’d said earlier. Head lowered, his voice sank.

“…Sorry. For yelling.”

“……”

“I’m done. I’m sick of smiling because I have to, and watching everyone’s moods.”

“Hyung… what are you saying? What do you mean you’re done?”

Dan Haru, who’d basically just witnessed a close hyung announce he was quitting on the spot, whined like a puppy and tried to soothe him. And me—

I was thinking.

What is this guy, exactly?

For a brief moment, I’d even wondered if Taehyun might be a “future-returner.” Among Miro trainees, he had one of the clearest motivations to want to rewind time.

But if he were, he wouldn’t be here talking about “seven years.” He’d reset and debuted already. Taehyun isn’t one.

So then the second question:

As a teammate I need for a successful debut— is Seo Taehyun a good fit?

I’d considered it when I saw him asleep at the animal hospital. In terms of buzz alone, he was basically guaranteed.

But I know his future.

He doesn’t blow up. He didn’t blow up. I hate that he didn’t—but my “past-life data” said what it said.

Which leaves one possibility.

A bomb that needs removing.

And the problem is… that possibility feels plausible.

An idol trainee, before even debuting, barges into another agency and gets into a fistfight with that agency’s next boy-group ace.

You can say “boys fight sometimes” and “no one got seriously hurt,” but when it’s idols, the rules change. If it blows up, if rumors spread after debut, he becomes “a violent guy” overnight—and then he’s prey.

I was already afraid of what online comments would look like.

I have to debut successfully. If Taehyun is a bomb, I don’t have to stop him from self-destructing.

And yet, the reason he kept bothering me was simple:

His face—when he said he couldn’t debut—looked like me in my previous life. Like me when I’d given up and stayed buried in bed.

So I asked the deciding question.

“Seo Taehyun.”

“……”

“Why did you hit Cha Minseok?”

He looked away.

“Answer. Why did you come all the way here and beat him up when you should be practicing at Miro?”

“……”

“You won’t answer?”

“…He didn’t hit me.”

And then—

“It wasn’t a fight. We were just talking and it got loud. A staff noona walking by misunderstood and made it bigger than it was.”

Then who the hell was the “main character statue” standing at the meeting room door looking furious?

A pale, perfect-looking sculpture of a guy, like this golden building was built for him.

Seriously handsome. And weirdly familiar.

“…Minseok hyung.”

Oh. Cha Minseok.

Only after Haru said it did my brain finally match him to the Minseok I remembered.

He looked neater and plainer than I remembered—Rene’s next “statue” walked in with a seriously warped expression.

Black coat. Gray turtleneck pulled up to his jaw.

But his face?

He was fine. Not a scratch.

“What the hell—didn’t you say you beat him up?”

“I don’t have time to waste on someone who doesn’t even have the guts to hit anybody.”

“……”

“Stop making this bigger and get out.”

His tone was sharp as hell. Minseok snapped irritably; Taehyun glared back, then looked away like he was disgusted.

“If this gets noisy, it won’t do me any good. Just leave.”

Okay, but this guy—

“Excuse me.”

“Yes?”

“Can’t you see we’re scolding a kid right now? Be quiet.”

“Did you just call the victim—”

“You said it wasn’t a fight. You said you only talked.”

“This is our company!”

“So what?”

Minseok blinked at my irritated voice.

He looked like some imperial prince, but his personality clearly didn’t match his face.

Minseok stayed rigid, and a weird tension pooled in the air.

The room was about to turn ugly—without anyone even speaking—when—

“Let’s go. Now. Come out. Taehyun, you go get ready to be scolded.”

Perfect timing: Ji Suho opened the door and called us.

When the trainee’s “guardian” says that, we can’t exactly keep posturing. And honestly, we were the ones who stormed in.

So we left, carrying that nasty aftertaste with us.

“Seo Taehyun.”

Minseok suddenly called out.

Taehyun pretended not to hear and walked past.

Minseok didn’t stop.

“My debut is confirmed for June.”

“…So what?”

“If you don’t want to call me ‘sunbaenim,’ you should spend this time doing vocal practice instead of pulling stunts here.”

“…What?”

“Of course… even if you practice, it probably won’t matter.”

That crazy bastard—

Even my hands itched to hit him, and I had to force it down.

Taehyun, for once, was completely calm—he just ignored Minseok and walked out.

I saw it, though: as he turned away, he bit down on his lip like it might split.

This time, there was nothing I could do.

On the Way to the Parking Lot

Silence. Endless silence.

Taehyun, now fully “sober,” looked like he was calculating the fallout of what he’d done—face sunk, like he’d lost his country.

Suho looked mentally overloaded, probably figuring out what to report.

And Dan Haru, who had just wanted to eat tteokbokki with a friendly hyung, was basically on the verge of tears—while still clinging to Taehyun’s arm like his life depended on it, terrified Taehyun might really quit.

“Dan Haru. If you cry, I’m leaving you here.”

“…I’m not crying.”

“Then don’t even tear up.”

Me and Haru stuffed ourselves into the back seat with Taehyun between us—like we were escorting a criminal.

Taehyun looked disgusted.

“The passenger seat is empty!”

“From now on, you’re exercising your right to remain silent.”

“Why are you exercising my right, Haru?”

“Criminals talk too much. Team Leader, go.”

The car rolled out.

Nobody said what they were thinking.

At a red light, while Suho was distracted making a report, Haru asked quietly:

“Hyung… are you really quitting?”

“…Why. Would you miss me?”

“Yes.”

“……”

“I want to debut with someone like you.”

Taehyun flinched.

A moment of silence.

Then, once the car started moving again, he finally spoke.

“…I just said it because I snapped.”

Only then did Haru finally relax and lean back.

Why Taehyun came all the way to Rene and caused a scene was still a mystery, but he didn’t look like he could talk today anyway.

I’ll let it go for now… and tomorrow I’ll buy him coffee and interrogate him properly.

And then I found out—less than 24 hours later—that plan was total nonsense.

24 Hours Later

“Okay… so nobody can reach Taehyun, right? Got it. If you hear anything, tell me immediately.”

Seo Taehyun disappeared.

Like, for real—he even cleared out his stuff from the dorm and vanished properly.

His phone was off. We called his hometown too, but his parents didn’t even know he’d disappeared.

Wait. Isn’t this… actually easier for me?

Minseok said there wasn’t a fight, but Taehyun still stormed into another agency—fact.

And I’d been thinking he was a ticking time bomb anyway.

He said he was quitting, packed up, and left—what am I supposed to do?

The more I calculated, the calmer I felt.

Maybe Taehyun’s “fixed fate” really was drifting between debut lineups and eventually disappearing from the industry.

Yeah. Maybe this life, he was destined to leave like this. Take care, Seo Taehyun. Honestly, quitting early might even be better for your future—

“We should go find him!”

“But… we don’t even know where he went.”

“I have a guess.”

…Why am I still here?

“Remember where we all went together before? Back when Minseok hyung was still around.”

“Oh—so you mean…?”

“That place! He said it was his uncle’s pension! Taehyun hyung is close with his uncle—he definitely went there.”

“Hold on. Stop. Both of you, shut it.”

If I didn’t cut them off, Haru and Eunchan were about to start plotting train tickets and launching a full-on “Bring Taehyun Back” operation.

We were in Joo Eunchan’s officetel again—this place was starting to feel familiar.

I’d been walking home peacefully after practice, and these two basically kidnapped me.

“I’m saying this now: I’m not going. I’m not going. Don’t drag me in.”

My bluntness hit them like a truck.

Both “lambs” stared at me in shock.

“What are you looking at me like that for? Why would I go look for Seo Taehyun?”

“How can you say that, hyung!”

Haru shouted, staring at me like I’d betrayed him.

And I honestly had no idea what I’d done.