Grab the Regressor by the Collar and Debut! Chapter 32

Chapter 32. First Monthly Evaluation (4)

“Quick, quick!”

“Hyung, this hat isn’t mine!”

“Let’s run it one more time. Three, four—!”

From early morning, the third floor of Miro’s building was complete chaos.

Trainees rushed around adjusting each other’s outfits, checking formations in front of mirrors, warming up vocals. The air was thick—tense, noisy, suffocating.

“Alright, everyone gather up!”

At the rookie development team manager’s call, the scattered trainees quickly assembled by team and sat in formation.

The door opened.

Staff holding binders entered and took their seats along the wall.

The judges.

“Ah, sorry. Am I the last one?”

A moment later, the door opened again.

Wearing sunglasses, a long coat, and a scarf, Seo Taeil stepped inside—holding a binder identical to the others.

At least half the trainees here had probably joined Miro because of him.

“Mr. Taeil, please sit here.”

“Yes, thank you.”

The room stirred again.

Taeil pushed his sunglasses up and flipped through the trainee list, silently reading each name.

“….”

One name lingered longer than the rest.

He underlined it lightly.

Then looked up.

At the very back of the room—

While his teammates leaned forward, whispering excitedly about Taeil’s arrival, one boy had willingly given up the front-row seat and was calmly stretching his neck.

Kang Hajin.

“Alright.”

Ji Suho closed his binder.

“Shall we begin? You all worked hard, right?”

“Yes!”

Kang Hajin’s first monthly evaluation began.

* * *

My Summary While Watching the Other Teams:

Everyone worked hard.

Performance order was decided by drawing lots.

Thanks to Gong Seok pulling the last number, we got to watch everyone else first.

(Comfortable for me, at least.)

Team B — Joo Eunchan & Seo Taehyun

As expected: performance-heavy.

They chose an old-school hip-hop track that had been popular last year.

Old-school styling. Accessories clearly coordinated by rich boy Joo Eunchan.

Must be nice. Having money.

Matching bandanas. Coordinated arm sleeves. Individual flair, but cohesive as a team.

They even rotated solo dance breaks.

Then—

“Ah!”

“….”

Lee Yugeon missed a b-boying move during his solo.

For a split second—

The atmosphere shifted.

Colder.

Not mockery.
Not sympathy.

More like… evaluation.

Measurement.

But Joo Eunchan immediately followed with a powerful krump section, and applause swallowed the moment whole.

Was that just my imagination?

Team C — Dan Haru & Jung Siwoo

As expected: vocal-focused.

Ballad. Light a cappella sections.

White shirts. Soft knit layers.

When Jung Siwoo and Dan Haru faced each other, stacking harmonies, a few trainees audibly gasped.

See? They’re insane.

And this is the same Haru who whined at me every night.

Two more teams.

Then it was ours.

I glanced at my members.

Focused. Nervous—but not falling apart.

They’re holding.

Wonho nudged my arm.

“Hyung.”

“Yeah?”

“…Why did you make me choreograph this?”

Out of nowhere.

But his eyes were serious.

“Because you looked capable.”

“….”

“I watched all your practice videos. You looked capable. I don’t gamble on things that won’t work.”

He didn’t respond.

Just nodded slowly.

“Next—Team A.”

Time.

I tapped his shoulder.

“Let’s go.”

* * *

Ji Suho was worried.

This team was a walking landmine:

• Lee Doha doing the dance break

• Kim Wonho choreographing

• Gong Seok as main vocal

• Kang Hajin, whose ceiling was still unknown

Too many variables. Too many risks.

And Hajin needed to leave an impression.

The team took formation.

Ripped black denim. Dark tops. Subtle red accents.

Formation centered around Doha.

The music started.

Ooh—Woah—

The chant section—originally recorded solo by Hajin in the guide—was now performed by all five members.

At the first beat, Doha lifted his hand, gaze rising upward.

The four members around him unfolded outward like petals.

Clean. Synchronized.

Short group choreography layered over the accelerating intro.

On the heavy drum drop—

“Start—our brilliant scenario—”

Hajin stepped forward into center.

Confident.

Like he was leading the rebellion himself.

At “Night that tears the sky,” he slipped back into formation.

Then—

Taehee and Wonho’s harmony.

High and low.

Ji Suho blinked.

Their live improved.

Despite executing paired choreography, their breathing stayed stable.

That wasn’t luck.

Hajin had deliberately assigned Gong Seok to supervise their vocals.

The improvement was structured.

Then Doha’s rap entered.

Ji Suho noticed something.

The choreography isn’t complex.

It’s controlled.

Clean lines. Clear angles.

After a week of drilling fundamentals—

Even Doha’s movements were sharp and perfectly aligned.

During vocal sections, choreography loosened intentionally—

Allowing Doha’s rap parts to hit harder.

Then—

Main vocal.

“Climb up, we’re New Wave!”

Gong Seok’s high note rang out.

The vocal trainer’s eyes widened.

Was his range always that solid?

Before anyone could dwell on it—

Parts rotated quickly.

No one carried too much weight.

Intentional.

Then—

Wonho’s solo bridge.

And finally—

The dance break.

High harmonized ad-libs from Hajin and Gong Seok filled the space.

Doha and Taehee stepped forward.

Wonho watched Doha’s back.

Ten percent success rate.

He’d asked Hajin countless times:

“Is this really okay?”

“He can do it.”

“He only needs one clean success.”

“That move is insanely hard.”

“Watch your mouth. Trust me. One success equals eighty percent.”

Wonho never understood that math.

But he trusted Doha.

And he trusted Hajin.

Because there was one thing only Hajin knew.

Lee Doha — Appeal Point

“Strong Heart”

• Delivery

• On-stage response

• Performance realization (80%)

If Doha succeeded once—

He would succeed on stage.

Always.