While I stood there dumbfounded, Seo Yoon-chae stormed out of the recording booth, fuming.
“You asked me for help, but what the hell was that? Turns out you didn’t need it at all. If you just wanted to mess with me, you should’ve said so! Are you even really suffering from memory loss?!”
“I mean, I did tell you, more than once…”
“Forget it. Seems like I’m the one who needs more practice, so leave me alone from now on. If you ask me to help you rehearse one more time, I’ll take it as a challenge to a fight.”
“…Huh?”
What the hell is he even talking about?
Totally lost, I turned to the other members.
“When did you guys show up?”
“A while ago.”
Ra Ho-yeon answered. The tips of his ears were slightly red—odd.
Huh? Cha Si-yoon and Shin Tae-boem are the same.
The only difference was that Shin Tae-boem looked like a volcano about to erupt, his face flushed bright red, while Cha Si-yoon had a soft pink hue blooming across his cheeks.
For a second, I thought maybe these guys had been day drinking.
On the front lines, that wasn’t uncommon. Whether you’d already given up on life or were shaking in your boots at the thought of battling monsters, day drinking was practically a habit.
So I just asked casually.
“Did you guys have booze or something? You’re too young to be drinking already…”
The second I asked, their gazes all went cold in unison.
“Oh… Never mind. Sorry.”
“What the hell do you even think we are?”
Shin Tae-boem snapped, the redness draining from his face as he barked at me.
“Hmm, rivals who I could easily kick in the stomach if things went south?”
“…Forget it. This one’s on me.”
[…Poor Shin Tae-boem.]
Potato sighed over my head. I couldn’t believe it. I was the one who just got chewed out, and yet Potato was siding with them?
What’s your deal now?
[Tsk tsk. Poor, poor members.]
Potato ignored my grievance entirely.
While I stayed silent, Shin Tae-boem, Ra Ho-yeon, and Cha Si-yoon all avoided eye contact, their expressions somewhere between sulky and frustrated.
Seriously, what is going on?
“So? How was my singing? If I were scored on a karaoke machine, what would I get?”
“……”
“……”
Ra Ho-yeon and Shin Tae-boem stayed silent.
Was it that bad?
I was trying to figure out how many hours I’d have to lock myself up in the practice room, so I asked again.
“Was it… that awful? Like, so bad it’s not even worth scoring?”
That’d be bad. Real bad.
If I was going to do this, I had to mimic Yeon Yu-jin as closely as possible.
I couldn’t let traces of my past life as a battle-worn soldier bleed through.
Why am I so damn nervous about this?
I nervously fiddled with my fingers as I waited for their evaluation. That’s when a hand landed on my head.
“…What the?”
“…It wasn’t bad.”
Ra Ho-yeon said that, then messed up my hair like a bird’s nest and walked out of the studio.
“Hey! Wait! Ra Ho-yeon! At least tell me if I still need more practice!”
Shin Tae-boem answered that for him.
“It wasn’t bad. Just tighten it up with a bit more rehearsal.”
“Huh? Seriously?”
“Didn’t think you’d be that good.”
“What was that? I couldn’t hear you—say it louder.”
“I said keep working on it, dumbass.”
Shin Tae-boem also ruffled my hair on his way out.
These punks!
Technically speaking, I was older—way older if you count my past life.
I was thirty, damn it. Being treated like some twenty-year-old rookie idol wasn’t exactly pleasant.
I let out a dry laugh and started to fix my hair, only for Cha Si-yoon—just a bit taller than me—to come over and mess it up again.
Then he calmly made his escape.
“Hey! Cha Si-yoon! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”
“Because I can.”
“What was that?”
“Your skills still suck. Keep practicing, Yu-jin hyung.”
“You little—!”
I was just about to chase after him, fuming, when he stopped and pointed at the mic.
“It was recorded. Make sure to listen back. You’ll figure it out yourself.”
Not a bad suggestion. Just as I was about to thank him, he vanished from sight like a pro.
“…They all bailed.”
Speechless, I slumped down alone in the recording booth and played back the track I’d just recorded.
“Huh…?”
Listening through the headset again… it wasn’t bad. The clear, refreshing tone rose just right—it was actually kind of pleasant.
Not bad at all.
I listened to it over and over again, marking spots where it felt off and re-recording them.
The number of red marks on the printed lyrics steadily shrank.
If Je-ha saw this, he’d probably laugh his ass off.
‘Ahn Ga-hyun’ was dead. So I’d never get to see that again.
But I remembered—when I’d casually sung a tune once, Je-ha had wandered over to listen without a word. Sometimes he’d even bug me to sing for him.
If this song airs on the cable music show… maybe Je-ha will hear it too?
If so, what would he say?
He wouldn’t recognize me. That much was certain.
But still… was it selfish to hope he’d smile again?
I softly hummed the final part of the track.
“Even if I lose myself in the end… I Will Always Love You. I’ll give myself to protect you.”
***
The day before the cable music show recording.
An official notice arrived for me via the Ability Users’ Association.
A formal document stating: “We request a reassessment of your awakened ability level, as there is reason to believe you may not be a D-rank Guide, but A-rank or higher.”
“Wh-Wh-What the hell is this?!”
The CEO clutched the back of her neck the moment she saw the government seal on the envelope.
“I mean, it’s not necessarily a bad thing…”
“Still, it’s way too much attention. Probably because of the dungeon break incident.”
The Director and Manager Kim Hyun-soo huddled together, whispering in low, serious tones.
“If they went so far as to issue a formal reassessment request and send it over by courier, they’re basically telling us to stop stalling and get the test done ASAP, right?”
“Yu-jin was really that capable as a Guide?”
“He did help during the dungeon break… but weren’t the Espers more in the spotlight? Like Ho-yeon and Tae-boem?”
I can hear everything, y’know.
Director and Manager Hyun-soo weren’t even trying to hide it. They were literally glancing my way as they whispered.
Sigh.
I never expected the government to just let this go.
Even if the guiding happened through kisses because the members are Espers… the fact that no one said anything felt fishy. Like they were already taking steps behind the scenes.
If even one person with Psychometry or similar abilities had caught wind of what I did, they wouldn’t be able to unsee it.
Honestly, I knew this day would come eventually.
But still, facing it in reality made my throat dry up.
“So what now?”
Director and Manager Kim looked to the CEO for guidance. She groaned and clutched her forehead.
“What else? If the government tells you to get tested, you do it. But what worries me is…”
“What worries you?”
I cut in, anxious. The CEO looked at me with genuine concern in her eyes.
“Up until now, you’ve only been allowed to be part of an idol group because you were a bottom-of-the-barrel D-rank Guide—practically useless in combat.”
For someone with such a soft, sweet face, she had the tongue of a snake.
If Yeon Yu-jin himself had heard that, he probably would’ve coughed up blood from sheer shame.
It didn’t bother me at all, so I just nodded calmly.
“Okay. And?”
I asked with a sarcastic tone, and she sighed before continuing.
“Sure, the world’s a lot safer now than it used to be, so people can live in all sorts of careers. But the Association—representing the government—still wants all capable Guides. There’s always a shortage.”
“So you’re saying…”
“If the reassessment results come back and you’re deemed A-rank or higher, they’ll want you to seriously consider quitting idol life and joining the Authority or a private guild.”
Makes sense.
I understood where they were coming from.
With the recent dungeon break still fresh in people’s minds, public anxiety was high.
Discovering a new high-ranking Guide at a time like this? That was a golden PR opportunity for the government. And the fact that the person in question was an idol who’d helped resolve the incident only added more fuel to the fire.
If I truly had the skills to back it up, they’d probably offer all kinds of tempting conditions to recruit me.
Whether it’s the government… or a guild, either path might not be a bad option for me right now.
The only group I’d ever been affiliated with before was a front-line military unit that nearly killed me. I had no idea how the Authority or guilds actually operated.
But it’d be easier to track down the real culprit—and Je-ha—under government radar rather than avoiding it.
Now that I’d been exposed, this might be my best chance to slip into the tiger’s den and hunt from within.
Trying to juggle idol life and look for Je-ha, all while tracking down the bastard who tried to kill me? That was inefficient.
But inside the system, I’d have access to information.
In a way… this might actually be a lucky break.
