Grab the Regressor by the Collar and Debut! Chapter 65

Chapter 65. Blue Waves (Turbulence)

The sleeve of my old school uniform shirt—the one I’d deliberately had sent from my parents’ house—was stained in an ugly splash of red sauce.

For a split second, a whole string of thoughts (written as “thoughts,” read as “a lot of swearing”) flashed through my head.

…That brat.

Most of them, to put it politely, were variations of: Where the hell did a kid that young learn to act this shameless and disrespectful?
(And yes—this is the polite version.)

Hold it in, Kang Hajin. Not yet. Not yet.

No matter how irritating he was, this wasn’t the place. Staff were everywhere in the waiting room. Picking a fight now wouldn’t help me.

I know that. Logically.

But what do you do when you’re still pissed?

[System Notice: The System grabs popcorn. (So exciting.)]

This thing isn’t even pretending to help me.

I ignored the popcorn window and was just about to say something sharp to Han Sungwoo—still standing there with that smug expression—when someone spoke first.

“You’re going to have to wash this.”

“What?”

Lee Yugeon, who looked utterly uninterested in the little dominance game between Sungwoo and me, calmly held the empty lunchbox back out to him.

“Wash it. And peel off all the stickers.”

His tone was casual, but when the speaker is a tall, rough-looking guy well over 180 centimeters, the words carry weight.

Even Sungwoo faltered.

“W-Why would I wash that?”

“Have you never recycled before? That’s the rule.”

“Who washes a lunchbox—! I mean… it’s getting thrown away anyway!”

“A-Class always did it like that. Even when you were in A-Class. Always.”

Yugeon said it with a perfectly innocent, matter-of-fact expression.

Sungwoo glanced around at the staff nearby. Other trainees were drifting closer. With a blank face, Yugeon pushed the box toward him again.

“Want me to wash it for you?”

“…No. It’s fine. Guess I didn’t know. I’ll wash it.”

He backed down fast.

Still, watching him snatch the lunchbox away left me irritated in a different way.

Wait.

I didn’t wash mine either.

So that’s why Yugeon told me to just leave it? Because we’re not close, so it would’ve been awkward to tell me to wash it?

Curiosity prickled.

“Special Class actually washes lunchboxes before tossing them?” I asked.

“Nope. That was a lie.”

“…What?”

“With that guy around, it gets noisy. I just wanted to shut him up and clean things up.”

What kind of person is this?

“Aren’t you on the same team as him? Won’t that get awkward?”

“Meh. Doesn’t matter. I’m not debuting anyway.”

“…What?”

“If you’re not cleaning up, hyung, move. You’re blocking people.”

He jerked his chin toward the trainees behind me, awkwardly holding their trash.

That was a clear get lost signal.

I stepped aside.

He said he’s not debuting?

He’d been in Special Class the whole time despite stats that felt… lacking. And now he’s casually saying he’s not even planning to debut?

That’s not normal.

Does he know something?

Or—

[Single Quest 02]

“The craziest bastard here is me!”

Objective:
You have entered (or will enter) Miro.
Endure the suffocating politics and internal power struggles.
Meet allies who will help you.
Debut successfully.

(If you remove a hidden bomb, the chance of regression triggering decreases and the quest success rate increases.)

Time remaining: 6 months
Reward (Success): A clue to track the regressor
Penalty (Failure): +85% chance of triggering a 5th regression

If he thinks it doesn’t matter because I’ll just regress anyway…?

The moment filming ends, I need to grab Lee Doha and ask about Yugeon.

What the hell is that guy?

Meanwhile

“Ah, f—!”

Han Sungwoo cursed as soon as he confirmed the bathroom was empty.

The lunchbox he’d barely rinsed was already shoved into the trash.

“Nothing goes my way, f—…”

Had there ever been a stretch of days like this?

He’d become a trainee easily thanks to the director’s backing. Enjoyed Special Class perks. Quietly “handled” anyone who annoyed him.

“But why the hell am I stuck with trash like them—!”

When rumors spread that he was a parachute hire, he’d pinned it on Joo Eunchan and even built a reputation as someone “looking after” him.

The director had promised him a clean debut route at a new agency.

Then Kang Hajin showed up.

Nothing went right after that.

CP Yoon had waved him off.

“As long as he doesn’t debut, who cares? Editing decides everything.”

The first broadcast was coming soon.

Just endure until then.

Yeah. Just until then—

“Oops. Sorry about that.”

The bathroom door opened.

Kang Hajin.

Holding the sauce-stained shirt and a bottle of dish soap.

He’d taken off the uniform jacket and stood in just his black T-shirt, voice light and irritatingly casual.

“Didn’t realize you were crying in here. My bad.”

“Who the hell is crying?”

“Well, you were taking a while washing that lunchbox…”

Hajin laughed softly and stepped to the sink beside him.

He spread the stained sleeve over the basin and squeezed soap onto it.

“Man, it’s low.”

Because he had to bend, the silver necklace under his shirt slipped out with a faint clink. The tie hanging loosely at his waist fluttered slightly.

Sungwoo hated that he noticed it.

The sharp, clean lines of Hajin’s profile. The effortless composure.

Why am I even looking at him like this?

The faucet roared to life.

Water poured down loudly.

“But hyung… is now really the time to be trying to pressure me?”

“….”

“Looks like you’re confident about today.”

That smile—the kind that only lifts at the corners—always felt insulting.

Like a warning.

You’ll never step inside Kang Hajin’s world.

“‘Blue Waves’ is a good song. Not too hard for someone like you. And your team isn’t bad either. Perfect as a finale.”

The water kept running.

“But why do you think I gave you the last slot?”

Something tightened in Sungwoo’s chest.

Anxiety. Pressure. Crawling upward from his gut.

“What is this?”

“Warm up your throat properly. Stop shouting. If you crack, that’d be embarrassing. You’re the main vocal, after all.”

Hajin adjusted his hair in the mirror and smiled brightly.

If you removed the thorns, it almost sounded like encouragement.

But Sungwoo understood the thorns.

“You don’t want to be compared, right? Same for both of us.”

Calling the order-deciding game a “main vocal showdown.”
Choosing second so Sungwoo’s team would go last.

Jeong Siwoo, praised for flawless vocals.
Kang Hajin, who earned Sarin’s approval.

And then Sungwoo’s stage.

After all that.

“Survival shows are brutal. Right?”

Click.

Hajin finally turned off the water.

He dried his hands and casually tossed the paper towel into the trash.

The same trash can Sungwoo had stuffed the lunchbox into.

“Hyung, fighting!”

And just like that, he left.

Sungwoo looked down.

A puddle had formed at his feet. Water slowly soaked into the soles of his shoes.

“…F—. Seriously.”

It was humiliation.

A feeling he’d never experienced before.

After passing him, Hajin peeled the “Staff Only” sign off the bathroom door and stuck it back where it belonged.

“Annoying bastard.”

A blue window popped up.

[System Notice: The System applauds the merciless attitude of the fixed regressor.]
[System Notice: Scary person….]

“What did I do?”

I just applied a little pressure.

Didn’t scream.
Didn’t hit him.

If he performs well, that’s on him.

“Hyung! Hurry! Filming’s about to start!”

Seo Taehyun and Dan Haru waved from the hallway. Behind them, Joo Eunchan brushed his teeth near another bathroom.

At least those guys… their dreams were almost crushed because of him.

Anyone can dream.

Being born privileged? Fine. That’s your ability.

But that doesn’t mean I have to cheer for someone who tramples others to fuel their own dream.

I walked back, brushing off Taehyun and Haru’s nagging about my ruined shirt.

A few hours later—

On the finale stage, “Blue Waves (Turbulence)”, Han Sungwoo would crumble under extreme nerves.

Two pitch breaks.

Three lyric stumbles.

A catastrophic performance.

And this time—

No one would be able to edit it out.