“Aww, come on, boys. Don’t be like that. If there’s something we can milk, then we should, right?”
“Sure, but… being dragged around for something that wasn’t even about our music just doesn’t sit right.”
Ra Ho-yeon muttered as he sipped an electrolyte drink.
“Besides, the one who really deserves the spotlight isn’t us, is it?”
He nodded toward me as I lay still.
I flinched but played dead, pretending to be fast asleep.
[Coward.]
Don’t start.
So what if I was being a little cowardly? I got to enjoy some much-needed rest!
It had been a few days since I was discharged from the hospital, but I insisted on staying off the radar under the excuse of “recovery,” refusing to appear on any programs.
Not like I’d be welcomed anyway.
The appearance fees were tempting, sure… but rest was more urgent than money right now.
I wanted to focus on recovering from the aftermath of forcefully overclocking my guiding ability.
Even the hospital specialized for Ability Users couldn’t detect anything strange, and discharged me saying I was fine.
I’d almost let my past life’s foul temper slip out at that moment.
I am sick! It hurts like hell—every bone in my body feels like it’s being stabbed! What kind of quack are you?!
…But I couldn’t exactly scream that. With no way to pay any penalty fees, I couldn’t run off anywhere. So I obediently agreed, then flopped over with a groan, saying it felt like I had the flu.
Maybe Yeon Yu-jin used to do this kind of thing a lot, because after a few half-hearted questions, the members dropped it, and the manager didn’t push either.
It was nice not being pestered… but at the same time, it felt a little lonely.
They’re probably all just worried that if they bring me around while I’m dealing with memory loss, something bad might happen.
So I stayed behind at the dorm, idly rolling around. Sometimes I played games. Other times I watched Secreti’s debut MV from their first album.
In those peaceful, uneventful days, I felt myself slowly melting.
I could get used to doing nothing for the rest of my life…
And yet, the thought that the bastard who killed me and stole my power—my Potato—was still out there walking free made my blood boil.
No, seriously. That asshole needs to die first.
My emotions flared like I’d just reeled in a massive red snapper. Whenever I randomly burst out in anger while lying down, the members just rolled their eyes and muttered, “Yep, Yeon Yu-jin’s still alive.”
And now.
I didn’t want anyone noticing me, so I buried myself deep under the blanket.
Feels like my past-life stats are 99% restored by now… No reason to get on the government’s radar.
The four rookie Espers in Secreti getting all the praise was more than enough. I didn’t need public attention or admiration. I never got any of that crap even when I was working myself to the bone as a Guide in my past life.
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about Hyun Je-ha spotting me on TV. But more than that, I was afraid the government would discover my true abilities and start asking questions.
If they found out my rating had suddenly shot up to SSS?
If that bastard came back to finish the job and steal the rest of my power?
Or worst of all—if Je-ha assumed I had some close connection to the person who killed Ahn Ga-hyun?
That would be a straight shot to the worst possible ending.
So I’d avoided most of the scheduled appearances.
But then that bastard Ra Ho-yeon smacked my back and spoke to Hyun-soo hyung like it was nothing.
“If you think about it, we only got this far because Yeon Yu-jin guided us and pushed us forward. Isn’t it unfair that he’s the only one not getting anything out of it?”
What the hell’s with this guy?
Weren’t you the same jerk who used to be cold and cruel to me?
Why the hell are you suddenly trying to take care of me? Seriously, knock it off.
***
Though the man in question was unaware, the Secreti members were growing increasingly frustrated by how Yeon Yu-jin kept being left out.
We wouldn’t have even gotten this gig if it weren’t for Yeon Yu-jin.
At first, they were thrilled. It didn’t matter who the credit went to—it finally felt like the troublemaker was being useful.
But as more and more offers came in, and the public started calling the four of them “the heroes who saved the city,” the weight of that praise began to settle in.
In the end, they were still just young guys.
Even if Yeon Yu-jin had been a pain in the ass, seeing him change after nearly dying had softened some of the resentment.
The new Yeon Yu-jin didn’t seem interested in them at all.
He wasn’t the same as before. Back then, he loved singing and dancing but resisted working like a defiant kid throwing tantrums.
Now, he ignored everything and everyone completely.
It must’ve been a dream come true for him to become an idol. But the awakened Yeon Yu-jin often stared blankly out the window, like someone who had their sights set on a totally different goal.
Sometimes, he’d wheeze in his sleep, struggling to breathe—maybe a trauma reaction. When the members woke him up, he’d smile faintly, like they’d never seen before, and whisper:
“…Is that you, Je-ha?”
Who the hell is Je-ha?
He’d mentioned that name before.
And oddly enough, whenever they felt annoyed or down, the half-asleep Yeon Yu-jin would shuffle over and press his face into someone’s palm.
If they flinched and tried to pull away, he’d blink those dark, star-like eyes and plead.
“You’re leaving?”
“……”
“Don’t go. Stay with me.”
Every single one of them—Ra Ho-yeon, Shin Tae-boem, Seo Yoon-chae, even Cha Si-yoon—had gone through it.
After the first few times, they started pushing the responsibility onto each other, but eventually, they all experienced it.
For the first time, they began to feel a pang of guilt toward Yeon Yu-jin.
Maybe he’s suffering like that because we’ve been neglecting him too much.
Maybe he was trying to hide his loneliness somewhere no one could see.
What they didn’t realize was that after experiencing guiding for the first time during the dungeon break, their attention naturally drifted toward Yeon Yu-jin.
Guiding was a euphoric sensation for Espers. And guiding from someone like Yeon Yu-jin—whose core was that of an SSS-rank Guide—had shown them an entirely new world.
The kind of ecstatic connection they never thought they’d experience when they chose the path of idols.
That’s how even a sliver of fondness took root, sprouted leaves, and made them start caring—just a little.
When they appeared as guests on variety shows, and someone asked about Yeon Yu-jin, they would immediately grow tense.
“What’s Yeon Yu-jin been up to lately? We heard he’s focusing on recovery after the dungeon break incident.”
“Some witnesses said he looked really close with the other members, contrary to what people believe…”
When interviewers brought up Yeon Yu-jin—who wasn’t present and was already infamous for his bad rep—it usually came with one of two intentions:
Either they were genuinely curious after seeing him in a new light, or they were fishing for juicy drama to stir the pot.
Every show had at least one of those types.
Whenever that happened, Ra Ho-yeon—the oldest and leader of the group—would step in and deflect the question with a carefully crafted answer to steer away from trouble. But who knew how long they could keep dodging it?
The Secreti members, now suddenly superstars thanks to Yeon Yu-jin, couldn’t ignore the whispers.
“They left that guy out again, huh?”
“There were already rumors of infighting. They say it’s nothing, but who knows what’s really going on?”
“Might be better to just rebrand the group without him. The four of them are doing well—this would be the perfect time to drop a new album and make a big splash.”
People, knowing nothing, kept chewing up their story and spitting it out.
The members weren’t exactly fragile snowflakes, but they couldn’t help but wonder if Yeon Yu-jin had been overly sensitive because of vultures like those.
Back when he first joined—amid rumors that he was a parachute pick, an illegitimate chaebol son, or worse—Yeon Yu-jin had actually been full of hope and responsibility toward becoming an idol.
“Let’s work hard together!”
He had sparkles in his eyes back then, earnestly joining practices. But at some point, he’d grown twisted. And now, after losing his memories, he felt like someone half-present, always seeming like he wanted to be somewhere else.
That’s why they didn’t want to leave him out of the schedule anymore.
Even if he’d lost his passion for being an idol along with his memories—
Even if it was late, and they had no right—
They wanted to say it anyway: Let’s run together again as members.
“Hyung, from now on… I’d like Yeon Yu-jin to be included in our schedules too.”
