Grab the Regressor by the Collar and Debut! Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Find the Regressor

“Hajin.”

“Yes.”

“Are you doing okay?”

Describe in five characters the feeling of being stared at with concern by your former third-year homeroom teacher—someone you thought you would never see again after her retirement and move overseas—while she asks why you submitted a completely blank college counseling form.

Hopeless.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not trying to scold you. I’m just worried.”

Yes, teacher. I’m worried too. I’m living through my fifth run alongside some insane selected regressor—

I swallowed the words and nodded awkwardly.

Smile, Kang Hajin. Smile.

“You’re not struggling because you’re retaking the CSAT, are you?”

“No, ma’am. It’s really not that.”

“Then why have you been so quiet lately? You barely talk.”

I shot a sideways glare at the invisible culprit that had been giving me a pounding headache for the past three days and carefully maintained my polite social smile.

“It’s just a bad cold.”

Only after I was granted early leave—apparently this “wasn’t like me” and I “must really be sick”—did my head finally clear.

Right. This isn’t the time to fall apart.

I looked up at the bright blue sky. The kind that reminds you of a certain day. I could imagine how I must look—half detached, half helpless.

“…Quest list.”

With a drained voice, I summoned the source of all this chaos.

[Quest List]
BQ 01. Find the Regressor!
SQ 01. Find the Lost Dream
[Please select a quest.]

“Open both.”

[Basic Quest 01]
“Find the Regressor!”
Content: You have been designated as the mentor of the selected regressor. Find him and stop the regression.
Reward: Young & Rich Tall & Handsome

“…If it weren’t for the ‘tall’ part.”

Well, I have to do it anyway. If it comes with wealth and glory on top of that, then thank you very much.

Honestly? I’m about to go to the military for the third time. If there wasn’t at least that much compensation, the moment I met that regressor brat, I might grab him by the collar and ask, What exactly are you planning to do about my life?

Right. That aside.

The real problem is the next one.

[Single Quest 01]
“Find the Lost Dream”
Content: The fastest way to untangle a knot is to find where it began. Become an idol trainee within the time limit.
Time Remaining: 57 days (Base: 60 days)
Success Reward: Access to clues for tracking the regression
Failure Penalty: 45% increase in probability of a 5th regression

“…Is this an idol genre now?”

I welcomed system windows and quests with open arms. But changing the genre of my life wasn’t exactly cause for celebration.

“Run the happy circuit, Kang Hajin. At least you’re not fighting monsters.”

Right. Not a hunter apocalypse. Small mercies.

Still—becoming an idol trainee within two months?

Most people train for two years and still fail.

And there’s a penalty? Forty-five percent? That’s practically half.

“If I fail, I regress again?”

Just what kind of broken luck stat did this so-called selected regressor roll?

I needed sugar. I pulled a chocolate bar from my bag, took a bite, and absentmindedly hummed.

“I’ve lost my way…”

When you’re lost, that song is tradition.

Idol? Yeah. That used to be my dream.

I loved singing and dancing since I was young. On stage, I felt like I could fly. Even I thought I was made for it. For ten years, becoming a singer felt natural.

Then—

“Hajin’s voice stands out too much.”
“It’s… ambiguous.”
“At this rate, when are you going to debut?”

If I had realized earlier how thin the line is between “decent” and “incompetent,” would it have been different?

I was always told I was good. But the opportunities were never mine.

Was it passion? Skill? Effort?

The chances that slipped away slowly gnawed at me.

“They said they see potential.”

Potential.

Maybe I just didn’t have the confidence to prove myself.

“No. I’m quitting.”

So I threw the dream away. I wanted somewhere I could be acknowledged.

But sentimentality is useless now.

If they tell me to do it, I’ll do it. If not, it’s a fifth regression.

I snapped back to reality, pulled out the old phone I still wasn’t used to, and searched.

male idol audition agency

I am not going to the military three times. Absolutely not.

After researching agency traits, artists, and audition schedules—and organizing everything into an Excel sheet like a traumatized former office worker—I narrowed it down to three: Miro, Rene, and Lime.

The closest audition was this weekend. Rene. One of the Big 3.

Slipping in to test the waters wouldn’t hurt.

On the subway, I reviewed my notes.

Rene valued complete idols. Visuals, talent, star quality.

Sphere, their top-tier boy group, was heading into military hiatus. A new group would be needed soon.

In my first life—about ten years from now, still strange to phrase it like that—a nine-member group debuted. I remembered the reaction.

“Rene’s new boy group visuals are insane.”
“They brought literal gods.”

They were nicknamed the Greek Sculpture Idols.

I glanced at my reflection in the subway window and lowered my phone.

“I’m not ugly… but I’m not that level.”

Trainee? Maybe.

Debut? Doubtful.

Still, I wouldn’t half-ass it.

“Excuse me, hello.”

“Yes, I believe in the Way.”

“…What?”

“I’m already a believer. Please move along.”

Best to block cult recruiters preemptively.

I stepped out of the subway.

I’d arrived.

“Next.”

The head of Rene’s New Artist Development Team rubbed his tired eyes.

“These kids just wink and stick out their tongues. No one actually sings.”

They valued visuals—but they weren’t looking for statues.

“Is there no one plain and sincere?”

“Hello. I’m number 71.”

The team head looked up.

Calm black hair. Cool, long single-lidded eyes. Clear skin.

Not bad.

“I’ll begin.”

No hesitation.

No awkward stalling.

He began singing an OST ballad originally sung by Themis’s main vocal.

It was difficult—long sustained high notes, emotional shifts.

Many had tried to cover it.

Few succeeded.

The first high note landed clean.

Then the lower register—smooth, controlled, textured.

The team head stopped spinning his pen.

He forced his expression to remain neutral as he gripped the application sheet.

Inside, however—

This is a jackpot.