Grab the Regressor by the Collar and Debut! Chapter 66
Chapter 66. System Update (1)
“Honey, what are you doing?”
“Huh? Oh—nothing. It just felt really quiet in the house.”
Hajin’s mother, Youngin, was sitting at the living-room table with a cup of instant coffee. She smiled softly at her husband.
“It’s quiet because Hajin isn’t here.”
Hawon had been spending his weekends at cram school for special admissions prep. And ever since Hajin left for the survival show training camp, the couple had been alone.
The semi-basement apartment that once felt cramped with four people now felt strangely empty.
Beep-beep-beep-beep—
The familiar keypad sound cut through the silence.
“What? Did Hawon come home early?”
“No. He said he’d be late and asked me to pick him up…”
“Then who’s punching in the password like that?”
They both turned toward the front door.
A moment later, it burst open.
An old, battered suitcase shoved its way through the gap first. Then a boy built like a door stumbled in behind it.
“Ma’am! Mom! Catch this!”
“What—Hajin? What are you doing here?”
“Ma’am, hurry! Your son is dying!”
“What is all this? How did you get here without calling?”
He kicked the suitcase inside and squeezed through the half-open door, arms full of random bags—then promptly dropped everything onto the floor.
“Oh my god, Kang Hajin! I can’t live like this!”
Youngin smacked his back while picking things up. Jeonguk rushed over to help.
“How did you get here? Weren’t you filming?”
“I got leave. Ah—Mom.”
Both of them looked at him—half worried, half thrilled.
Still sprawled on the entryway floor, Hajin grinned and made a V-sign beside his eye.
“Your son got first place.”
* * *
Yeah.
First place.
We got first place.
—“Second mission, To the Top! The team in first place is… Team Sad Ending! Congratulations!”
—“Huh?”
I’ve said it before, but I never planned to do this well. Looks like Sarin was genuinely moved.
“I thought Masquerade would take first,” I muttered to myself.
Still—being good at things never hurts.
I flopped onto my mattress. The old ceiling I hadn’t seen in a while felt strangely comforting.
Team Blue Waves (Turbulence)—which Han Sungwoo completely wrecked—ended up third.
Thanks to that, everyone on our team earned benefit points. There was a good chance the Wings rankings shifted too, but we wouldn’t know until later.
—“Your next Wings ranks will be decided based on existing scores, this mission’s benefits… and one more thing.”
—“Viewer voting scores will also be included.”
Viewer voting.
Miro Maze would open voting today at 6 p.m., along with performance videos on iTube and the official site.
Voting would spike once the episode aired. That meant the next shoot would likely be after the first broadcast.
I had a full week of leave.
A week was more than enough time to reset a lot of things.
[System Notice: 183 missed notifications….]
…Yeah. That too.
I glared at the red badge.
A knock sounded on my bedroom door.
“Hajin, want me to order chicken?”
“Out of nowhere?”
“I don’t know. I’m just happy to see my son’s face. And you said you got first place. If you don’t want it—”
“Mother. There will never be a moment in my life when I refuse chicken.”
She laughed.
“Alright. Then tonight.”
“Not now. Let me sleep first.”
“Okay. Rest.”
“Let’s go!”
I clenched my fist in triumph. She called me ridiculous and closed the door.
I stared at it for a moment.
Old wood. Paint peeling.
“…We move in three years, right?”
I’d lived here my whole life, so I’d stopped noticing.
But after Miro’s polished building—and Joo Eunchan’s spotless studio—the difference was obvious.
The poverty I’d once overlooked.
Memories surfaced.
—“What’s wrong, Hajin? Mom believes in you.”
—“You can do it.”
—“And even if you can’t… that’s okay.”
Living like this. Always uncertain about tomorrow.
How could she say that?
She didn’t know the future.
“…This time, I’m not regressing. Not ever.”
Three years from now, they finally buy the apartment they’d dreamed of. South-facing. Sunlight flooding in at dawn. So bright you wake up without an alarm.
Nothing like this semi-basement—where you need fluorescent lights at noon, where opening the window barely helps, where you see strangers’ shoes passing by outside.
“I’m not letting it get taken away again.”
To protect that future, there were things I needed to check.
“Alright. I’m ready.”
A blue window burst open.
[System Notice: (Fixed) Regressor authority has been updated.]
[System Notice: You can access more detailed information about human timelines.]
[System Notice: Enter the ‘Space of the Unconscious’? (Entry condition: fainting sleep)]
“Fine. Let’s see what you updated.”
The moment I accepted, white light exploded.
My strength drained instantly. I collapsed backward onto the mattress.
Like cold medicine pulling me under.
[System Notice: The (Fixed) Regressor has entered the Space of the Unconscious.]
Darkness swallowed me.
When I opened my eyes, I was back in that empty void.
A blue window floated ahead.
[System Notice: Assigning this Space of the Unconscious to the (Fixed) Regressor.]
[System Notice: You may materialize any space you imagine.]
“I can design it?”
So this was mine.
I’d never really had a space that was fully mine before.
“…Bigger is good.”
I imagined a personal studio.
Ocean view.
A proper desk.
A large sofa so my back wouldn’t hurt.
The void slowly filled in.
Walls. Windows. Furniture.
Before long, it resembled a convincing workspace.
[System Notice: Interior fixed.]
“Oh. That’s powerful.”
[System Notice: (Proud) ]
“Alright. Let’s check those updates.”
I opened the details.
[Kang Hajin (Fixed Regressor) Permissions Update 1.0]
Detailed human timeline access unlocked.
Space of the Unconscious assigned.
Entry keyword required.
Time flows differently from reality.
Influence over companions increased.
Security level upgraded.
“I get number two. The rest needs explaining.”
I walked toward the massive sofa and—
“Agh!”
I crashed onto what felt like solid stone.
[System Notice: Only visual elements were implemented. Physical sensations must be specified separately.]
“…You could’ve mentioned that earlier.”
Pain shot through my spine.
“So my lack of imagination turned a luxury sofa into a rock.”
[System Notice: Please revise interior if desired.]
I nodded and rebuilt everything—texture, cushioning, temperature.
[System Notice: Interior modified.]
I leaned back again.
Perfect.
“Nice. Feels like Eunchan’s bed.”
[System Notice: Please set an entry keyword.]
“Something I’d never say casually…”
At least ten characters.
It couldn’t be something everyday. If I triggered it accidentally, I’d pass out mid-conversation.
“Alright.”
[System Notice: Entry keyword: ]
“I hate mint chocolate.”
[System Notice: …And?]
“That’s the keyword.”
[System Notice: We are not interested in your taste preferences.]
“I hate mint chocolate.”
Exactly ten characters in Korean.
And something I would never, ever say by accident.
“…Because I’m team mint-choco.”