Grab the Regressor by the Collar and Debut! Chapter 98

Chapter 98 – Bomb? (9)

Like Haru said, the convenience store was actually a bit far from Miro’s new building.

Too far to walk comfortably—about ten minutes by car, maybe fifteen by bus.

Since Haru thought there was a chance someone might recognize them, the two of them decided to take a taxi.

“Taehyun hyung kept saying he wanted just one spoonful of that ice cream. Seriously, I was so scared he’d notice…. I used up all my energy trying to stop him every time he went toward the fridge!”

“And what were you going to do if he checked while you were out here?”

“……! I-it’s okay. I told Jaeyoung to message me if Taehyun hyung so much as heads toward the kitchen, and he hasn’t texted yet!”

Just as Hajin had guessed, going out with Haru had been the right call.

Listening to Haru chatter nonstop—completely oblivious to everything going on with Yugeon—let Hajin’s spiraling thoughts loosen their grip for a moment.

The Mental Care System still feels unstable, though.

It was much better than before, but if he relaxed for even a second, it still felt like a flood of emotions might come crashing down on him.

Still, at least it wasn’t as bad as last time, when he’d completely lost control and burst into tears.

It’s okay. Nothing’s happened yet. Not until the third mission ends.

There was still time.

By the time he had repeated that to himself enough to calm down, the taxi had reached its destination.

“What if they’re out of stock….”

“You checked the app. They’ve got it.”

“What if they just haven’t updated it yet…? It’s still really early.”

“Convenience stores are all 24 hours these days.”

Hajin was humoring Haru’s anxious muttering and heading toward the entrance when—

someone came hurrying out of the store.

“…….”

“…Huh?”

“What—why are you two here…?”

“Yugeon hyung?”

Haru’s voice came out in pure shock.

The person who had just emerged from the convenience store—

was Lee Yugeon.

With a gray hoodie pulled low over his head, Yugeon stopped dead too, looking just as startled as Haru and Hajin.

And then—

“H-Hajin hyung!”

“What the hell are you doing coming out of here? What are you doing here right now?!”

“No, I—”

“Hajin hyung, stop!”

The moment Hajin saw Yugeon’s face in the last place he expected, something he had been forcing down finally snapped.

He strode over and grabbed Yugeon by the collar.

Yugeon looked just as caught off guard. Instead of dodging, he only weakly pushed at Hajin’s shoulders.

Haru rushed in and barely managed to pull Hajin back, but even then, Hajin looked ready to lunge at Yugeon again.

“Hyung, calm down first! Okay? Yugeon hyung, say something!”

“……”

“Dan Haru, let go. Right now. Lee Yugeon, you—!”

Because of you, everything’s about to fall apart!

The words rose all the way to the tip of his tongue, but Hajin forced them back.

He was just barely aware that, in his current state, he was being impulsive and violent.

And then—

someone else came out of the convenience store.

“Student Yugeon! Your phone, this…?”

“…….”

“……?”

“…Oh my. Is something wrong?”

♪♩♬♩—♬♪♩♪

A middle-aged woman in a convenience store uniform looked back and forth between the three of them with a startled expression.

In her hand was Yugeon’s battered old 2G phone, its ringtone still going off nonstop.

With all three of them frozen in tense silence, Yugeon moved first.

“…Thank you, Manager. It’s mine.”

“D-didn’t you say you had to hurry? Oh dear. I hope we didn’t make you late….”

Manager?

What exactly was going on here?

Hajin was just about to call Yugeon’s name again when—

[Syst4492m reecovㅌering @!303 #in pro@gress...]
[Mmmmental C@#4re Syst001!m reco#$6/.][in progress....]
[...]
[...]

“Ugh….”

“Hyung!”

Piiiiiiiiii—

The ringing in his ears that had tormented him at dawn came back.

Reflexively, Hajin doubled over, and the shattered system window flickered and updated in front of him.

“What’s wrong with this hyung?”

“I don’t know. Since yesterday, he keeps….”

“Sit him down first. Manager, one bottle of water, please. I’ll pay.”

“No, no, forget paying. I’ll bring it, just a second.”

Alarmed by the way Hajin looked like he might collapse at any moment, Yugeon hurried over.

He quickly sat Hajin down in one of the chairs near the display outside the store, then—strangely practiced—checked Hajin’s pupils, pulse, and level of consciousness.

“Look at me. Can you see properly?”

“…I-I’m fine. If I just sit like this for a bit… it gets better.”

Yugeon handed him the water the manager rushed over with.

The system window glitched and refreshed a few more times, and then—as if the Mental Care feature had finally been restored—Hajin’s vision gradually cleared and his thoughts began settling again.

Still pressing a hand to his throbbing head, Hajin looked up—

and found Yugeon kneeling in front of him to meet his eyes.

“…….”

“Can we skip calling 119?”

“I think your vision’s back. How many do these look like?”

“…Two.”

“There are three.”

“…They’re two.”

“So you’re fine, then.”

It took a little longer for the ringing to vanish completely and for his body to feel normal again.

And as his emotions finally settled, the clues he had been missing began snapping together in his mind.

Lee Yugeon didn’t join the company because he wanted to debut.

I just happened to find out by accident.

Yugeon, who didn’t look interested in idols, much less debuting.

Seo Taehyun, who somehow knew his circumstances.

That ice cream is, like, some kind of limited edition? So you have to go past the big intersection to find it.

The convenience store that sold the special diet ice cream Seo Taehyun had gone out of his way to get.

And Yugeon, who was familiar enough with the store manager to be recognized on sight.

The old 2G phone in Yugeon’s hand that couldn’t even run a messenger app.

My parents are coming to this performance, so I can’t wear something outrageous like that.

That was a lie. So I guess I’m the one wearing the collar?

He absolutely never comes in for extra weekend practice either….

And then the last puzzle piece.

<Miro provides tuition and living expenses for trainees in difficult financial circumstances.>

“Haa….”

Once his thoughts reached that point, Hajin gently grabbed Yugeon’s wrist.

“…Are you in pain? Should we call 119?”

“Lee Yugeon. I’m about to ask you an incredibly rude question.”

“…….”

“If it pisses you off, just punch me. But I need to confirm this, so don’t take it the wrong way. If I’m right, just nod.”

Hajin looked him straight in the eye and openly warned him that what he was about to say would be rude.

Even Yugeon—who usually didn’t get rattled easily—could only nod under that deep, unwavering gaze and the pressure of Hajin’s intensity.

“Are you the head of the household?”

“…….”

“Is that why you came to Miro? So you could work part-time jobs every day after practice?”

It was a truly rude question.

But there was no mockery in Hajin’s voice.

No contempt. No sneering. No pitying tone.

If anything—

…That’s a weird look in his eyes.

Not pity. Not sympathy. Not ridicule or disgust.

Just something strange.

Thinking that, Yugeon quietly nodded.

The moment Blue Flare got Hajin’s message—

We found Yugeon. There’s something we need to talk about quietly in a meeting room—

they all came running.

“Lee Yugeon!”

“Shh. Kim Wonho, lower your voice.”

Hajin had deliberately called them to a meeting room instead of a practice room so nobody would overhear or notice.

Remembering that, Wonho clapped a hand over his mouth and hurried toward Yugeon anyway.

“You okay? What the hell, where did you even go?”

“Uh… sorry.”

Eunchan and Doha came in next, then Siwoo, and once the meeting room door shut behind them—

“…….”

For once, Yugeon looked actually nervous.

He understood perfectly well that what had happened today was entirely his fault.

Though I had my reasons.

And he also knew that, to the hyungs sitting across from him, those reasons would sound like nothing but excuses.

So he stood first and bowed deeply.

“First of all… I’m sorry. This was my fault.”

The apology was sincere.

But no answer came back.

That much he had expected.

“Is that all?”

“…What?”

At Siwoo’s unexpectedly calm voice, Yugeon flinched and raised his head.

He had expected Siwoo to be angry at him the way he’d been during the first mission.

Expected Doha—who always looked at him with that unreadable, detached expression—to be the same.

But both of them were watching him almost exactly as usual, without much emotion on their faces at all.

When Yugeon fell silent, clearly caught off guard, Siwoo finally let a trace of feeling show.

“More than an apology, I’d rather hear an explanation. Isn’t that why we all gathered here like this?”

I’d rather hear that first and decide whether this is even a situation where your apology matters.

Even now, what Siwoo said wasn’t an accusation.

And because of that, Yugeon slowly sat back down and, for the first time, began to tell his story.

“I don’t know where to start….”

In the quiet meeting room, only Yugeon’s voice could be heard.

“There are four people in my house. My grandfather, me, and my two younger siblings. My parents left when I was little, and I haven’t heard from them since.”

Before he ever joined Miro, Yugeon’s days had started with part-time jobs and ended with part-time jobs.

Fortunately, he had grown tall early and had a sharp enough look that even as a minor, he could land a surprising variety of jobs.

“Delivery.”

“Oho. Working hard again today, little breadwinner.”

“What are you talking about? You guys are runaways too.”

“Hey. Don’t make living on your own sound weird. We’re independent adults, you punk.”

Dance—the one thing in Yugeon’s life besides family that he could maybe call joy—had started because he got close to the dance instructors at the studio he kept delivering to.

He couldn’t afford lessons, so every time he made a delivery, he learned by watching from the sidelines.

“Hey, want to try learning dance?”

“I don’t have any money.”

“Then help us film videos at night, and we’ll teach you for free. Deal?”

Thanks to the studio director who noticed him, Yugeon got to learn something for the first time without feeling guilty about the cost.

Finish the evening part-time jobs.

Dance late into the night with the hyungs.

That was the time Yugeon enjoyed most.

Because for those few hours, he could forget about real life.

“Then one of the choreography videos I filmed with the hyungs got uploaded to iTube… and Miro contacted me after seeing it.”

At first, he turned them down.

Because he couldn’t sing.

What changed his mind was Miro’s welfare support.

“They said if I joined the company, they’d cover tuition, help with living expenses, provide meals…. And if you’re a trainee, you can leave school after fourth period, right? So I said yes. I figured then I could feed my siblings and still help out at my grandfather’s shop before coming here….”

“So you never had any intention of debuting at all?”

“Honestly? With my singing skills, what debut am I supposed to aim for? There’s no guarantee I’d make it anyway. I was just planning to stay until right before I turned twenty, then leave. …Though I do feel bad toward the staff.”

Then the survival show started.

Suddenly.

“I wasn’t going to do it. But they said if I wasn’t participating, I had to leave the company. And right around then my grandfather hurt his leg too…. They said I’d get paid if I appeared on the show, so I just decided to do it.”

He added that because his grandfather’s hospital bills had become expensive, he hadn’t been able to quit his part-time job even after agreeing to go on the survival show.

At that, even Siwoo finally understood why Yugeon always disappeared the second official practice hours ended.

“So what happened today too?”

“I, uh… normally I just work evenings and then switch shifts with the manager at dawn. So I would’ve made it back on time. But a drunk customer suddenly came in and started causing trouble…. By the time we called the police and dealt with everything and all that….”

“…….”

“…Anyway, I’m sorry. I’ve felt bad toward you hyungs the whole time. But, well, it’s not like I was ever going to debut anyway, and I didn’t want to lay all this out like some pathetic sob story.”

When Yugeon finished, silence fell over the meeting room again.

No one could bring themselves to speak right away.

This is exactly why I didn’t want to say anything.

Yugeon hated pity.

He didn’t even want to pity himself, which was why he always tried to think of everything lightly—easily.

But people, as if none of that effort mattered, always found it so easy to take his life and turn it into tragedy for him.

That must’ve been hard. You’ve suffered so much…

He hated being looked at like that.

Still, this time really had been his fault too.

So he’d just have to take it.

Feeling a little disgusted and very tired, Yugeon raised his head and looked at his teammates.

No one spoke.

And then—

someone finally broke the silence.

“So?”

“…What?”

It was Doha.

With the same expression Yugeon had always found impossible to read, he asked the question straight out.

“What I want to hear is what you plan to do from here.”

“Uh….”

“Are you saying you want us to understand that you’re going to keep acting this uncooperatively from now on?”

“What? N-no, that’s not what I mean.”

…This kind of reaction was new.