🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 06
The Madman of This Area Is Me (1)
85%? I couldn’t even laugh.
“Everyone will be arriving shortly, but we’ve already watched your audition video once, actually.”
What, “madman of this area”? Are you kidding me?
“Today will mostly be a simple skills check and some questions to get to know Hajin a bit better.”
They send me to the army twice, make me a trainee aiming for idol debut, and now I’m supposed to handle bomb disposal?
“Hajin-ssi?”
Didn’t they see a real lunatic in front of them? If there’s anyone more insane than me—someone who regressed back to high school after getting sent to the military while taking the CSAT—bring them here. Let me switch lives with them.
“Hajin-ssi? Hey.”
“Ah, sorry. I think I was a bit nervous. I didn’t sleep at all last night…”
“Oh dear, you didn’t sleep? That must’ve been hard. You didn’t need to push yourself like that.”
Damn it. I’d briefly spaced out from the shock of the sudden regression announcement and lost touch with reality. I quickly switched on my “capitalist smile” and refocused on the conversation.
Luckily, Manager Jang and Director Kim from Miro seemed to interpret it as just “nervousness from a teenager on the verge of realizing his dream,” and nodded understandingly.
“But Hajin-ssi, did you get your hair done? You look a bit different compared to the audition video.”
“Yeah, you’re right. His vibe is definitely stronger in person.”
They started talking about my styling, complimenting me with overly sweet words, probably because I spent my allowance on a decent haircut and new clothes.
I couldn’t exactly say, “Yeah, I did it to impress you guys,” so I just acted shy enough.
“Thank you. I wanted to look good, so I put some effort into it.”
“Honestly, the more I look at you, the more perfect you seem. You really should join our company.”
As Director Kim laughed and looked at me like I was some promising discovery, I almost instinctively said “obviously.”
But it was obvious. This styling was aimed directly at Miro.
At this point, let’s take a look at my Excel sheet “Miro chart.”
<[Miro Entertainment]
Artists: Yupia, Project W (disbanded), Enderway
Traits: A company known for strong performance-based male idols. Famous for putting heavy focus on concept and music quality. With Enderway establishing itself, they are preparing a new group for expansion.>
…Information I got from lurking stock forums. In previous timelines too, they released a junior group around this time. Anyway, the important part was below.
<Traits: ☆Seems to really like strong, intimidating concepts☆>
Miro Entertainment idols had a recurring label—“the music industry’s mavericks.”
[“The difference in character interpretation between Lanion and Endep is hilarious”]
(GIF of Lanion performing in a school uniform)
(GIF of Endep performing in a school uniform)
Lanion: the popular kid at school
Endep: the kid who barely shows up at school
LOL, original maverick idols Yupia’s juniors LOL
-
Min Seok: looked like student council president but actually a mastermind
Yeonwoo: the mastermind’s backer
└ WTF “backer” LOL
└ What is this character analysis LOL
- Wow but Lanion;;; dangerously attractive visuals
└ What about Endep?
└ Feels like my arms and legs would get tangled
└ Why are your limbs involved??
It seemed that because the first-generation group Yupia had established such a strong “hard image,” the company itself leaned into it as a brand identity. Their concepts were intense, and they cared more about performance skills and stage presence than typical idol visuals.
“I was worried piercings might look rude, but seems like it’s fine.”
For Miro Entertainment, which had both the capital and know-how to polish raw talent into gems, overdressing or forcing a style that didn’t fit would just turn you into trainee #1524.
So instead of overdoing it, I went for a clean, slightly stripped-down style—making people think, “What would he look like if we styled him properly?”
If I had shown up to Miro looking like some overdone mess, I wouldn’t even have made it to the audition.
Miro was different. Luckily, thanks to my narrow eyes and slightly sharp look, I didn’t look easy to underestimate. Once the audition was scheduled, I immediately re-pierced my ears and cut my long hair into layers.
When I was younger, I didn’t know what suited me and just tried whatever was trending—two-block cuts, wolf cuts, anything.
But I already had ten years of experience living with this face and hair. Across both past and present lives, I already knew what suited me best. A timeless street style and the hairstyles that worked with my face—no failures there.
“Ah, the others will be here soon. Hajin-ssi, get ready.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t be nervous!”
Entering the recording booth while receiving Manager Jang’s encouragement—which sounded more nervous than mine—I had never done an audition like this before. At Miro, they sometimes made applicants record a portion of an existing artist’s song.
“So they’re testing how well you take direction?”
Ridiculous. This wasn’t even a debut evaluation—what kind of direction are you giving to a trainee candidate who doesn’t know anything yet?
Putting on my headphones inside the booth, I thought.
“This is basically a pressure interview.”
I’d heard from Manager Jang that Miro already liked me quite a bit, but this was how they were meeting me for the first time.
[Single Quest 02.]
“The Madman of This Area Is Me!”
Content: You, who have entered (or will enter) Miro.
Survive the suffocating internal politics and competition within the company,
meet allies who can help you, and successfully debut.
(If hidden “bombs” are removed, regression probability decreases and quest success rate increases.)
Looks like the first bomb to remove is here.
There were three interviewers.
“Well, just try your best.”
The executive director who clearly didn’t like me at all.
“……”
A team lead staring at me with a strangely meaningful expression.
And then—
“Wow, he’s really fresh. Hyung, was I like that during my trainee days?”
The legendary founding member of Miro’s core group Yupia, Seotaeil.
The man who turned Miro into the industry’s so-called “maverick empire.”
A cornerstone who, even after military hiatus and the infamous “7-year curse,” led Yupia to renew their contract for a third time.
On the day the third renewal was confirmed, during a fan SNS live, he casually said:
- “Well… I guess it’s time they realized what happens without me. Everything falls apart.”
If any other idol leader said that, it would’ve caused a scandal and backlash. But this was Seotaeil of Yupia.
Posts flooded online:
“13-year idol leader’s insane self-awareness…”
“Yeah… it really is Seotaeil…”
“This is basically the peak of Yupia’s group dynamic.”
Comments:
- “Honestly this is so funny LOL”
- “Seotaeil is built different”
- “At this point Yoon Jinu would’ve been introduced as a civilian in a few years”
- “Cheon Hansol would’ve just stayed in the military permanently”
‘I feel like if that guy is a bomb, things are going to get complicated.’
Looking at these clearly unstable people, I rolled my neck.
On the table in front of me was the lyric sheet of today’s song.
Luckily, it was familiar.
‘This is Yupia’s debut song.’
Making me audition with the original artist watching—what kind of cruel setup is this?
And it looked like Seotaeil himself was handling direction.
Normally, a trainee would’ve already been crushed under pressure.
But I wasn’t a normal trainee.
“Alright, let’s check your tone first. Just sing the chorus of the first verse lightly.”
I heard Seotaeil’s smooth voice as he began the simple sound check.
I adjusted my headphones.
A system alert rang in my head.
[System Alert: Skill <Say It As It Is> (Lv.1) activated.]
You think I came here without safety equipment while defusing bombs?
The night before.
“I’m not doing it.”
The moment I saw the 85% regression probability, I went on strike against the system.
[System Alert: Pardon?]
“Oh, you didn’t hear me? No, you heard me perfectly. I’m not doing it.”
I crossed my legs and folded my arms. The system window crackled.
And I didn’t care.
“Fine, I agreed to becoming an idol trainee in two months. That’s fine. What, rich, tall, handsome? Sure, I can deal with that.”
“But what now? Bomb disposal? Form a debut team? What kind of modern fantasy nonsense is this? I can’t even remember lottery numbers and I’m supposed to conquer an entertainment company?”
The more I thought about it, the more pissed I got. I stomped the ground in frustration.
Sand got into my slippers—annoying, but whatever. I shook my leg off.
There was nowhere in my tiny home where I could vent without my family noticing, so I ended up at the playground again.
“Seriously, I’m getting angry again. What was it—mentor? Mentor my ass. I’m going to die before I even meet this so-called mentee.”
“I’m not doing it. Not doing it. Regression? Go tell someone else. I’ll just live forever, whatever.”
[System Alert: Input error]
[System Alert: Input error]
[System Alert: (Fixed) Regression entity’s irregular behavior detected!]
“What’s the error?”
[System Alert: I am getting confused.]
“You’re kind of ridiculous.”
At some point I’d started personifying the system, but it wasn’t like it deserved any better treatment.
Judging by its reaction, it was time to push for what I actually wanted.
“Give me skills. Or items.”
[System Alert: Regression users are not provided with separate skills…]
“Then I’m not doing it.”
[System Alert: That is already a significant level of support…]
“Not doing it.”
[…]
“I said I’m not doing it. Quests, whatever. Go make some other regressor lose their mind.”
The madman of this area?
First, system—you take a taste of madness.
