Chapter 6
Chapter 6
Translator: Penny
Chapter 6
"In the end, 'Daydream' got the most votes for the fandom name. Tch, what a shame. Nyx sounded so much prettier. So, what should our fandom's nickname be? Day? Dream (taking the last syllable)? Or Ilmong, since it means 'daydream'?"
"Lame! So lame!"
Ryu Jaehee's eyes widened as he whipped around to face me, startled by my irritated shout.
"Whoa, are you calling my ideas lame right now? Then why don't you come up with something better, Hyung? If you can suggest a nickname that's cooler, cuter, easier to say, and more catchy than Day, Dream, or Ilmong, I'll admit you're right."
"What the hell... I mean, nonsense. I'm talking about the equipment being lame. But your attitude's pretty lame too, you know?"
"What? You want to show me? I'll acknowledge it, then." I glared at Ryu Jaehee, tearing my eyes away from my Instagram feed. He yelped and tucked his tail between his legs.
I was already on edge, frustrated beyond belief because I couldn't find a decent studio anywhere, no matter how hard I looked.
Before my regression, I had my own proper studio, but now I had nothing. Renting was my only option.
Building a separate studio like I used to would cost too much, making it impossible with my current finances.
But studios with composition equipment were not only expensive to rent but also buried underground, which was terrible for my health. And worst of all, the equipment was outdated.
Sure, a true craftsman doesn't blame his tools, but I definitely did. If it wasn't the latest model, my mood soured instantly.
After vomiting blood, my mother, terrified, sent me a whole bundle of herbal tonics. While drinking them, I scrolled through my list of contacts from the underground hip-hop scene, and a familiar name caught my eye:
Yongcheol Hyung - Hey, wanna come check out my new studio?
Should I bring a congratulatory plant for the opening?
Yongcheol Hyung - What opening? Did I start a business or something?
I swiped through the recent chat history, which stretched back seven years into my memory—a conversation I didn't even remember having. Tapping the mattress with my finger, I muttered, "Should I contact him... or not?"
Frantically ruffling my hair, I tried to reassure myself. "It'll be fine. This was before things went south..."
Even so, contacting someone whose relationship had soured before my regression, ultimately ending in the worst possible way, required considerable resolve and mental fortitude.
But given my agency's lack of a studio and my own razor-thin wallet, renting external recording facilities even for my debut album's tracks, this was the best option.
As far as I remembered, the next album's release was four months after my debut album's release date. Considering concept meetings, recording sessions, and music video shoots, I had less than a month left to prepare.
To finish sampling the tracks by then, I needed to start working immediately. Only then could I bring the song to the internal meeting scheduled for three weeks from now.
This was still a time when male idol groups could compete solely on mainstream appeal, just like female groups.
If the song was well-crafted and captivated the public's eyes and ears, we could even expect results beyond the viral success of a comeback stage 직캠.
The problem was that our next album was just as terrible as our debut album.
Before my regression, Reve had suffered two consecutive chart failures and was on the path to becoming a flop idol group. But now, unlike the past, we had the added condition of needing to build a fanbase of over 30 million people.
To end this damned regression, we absolutely had to make our next album a success and secure our place among the top-tier groups.
Press. My thumb pressed down on the call button as if crushing it. After a few rings, the other party answered.
"Yo, Yoon Eden! Congrats on your debut! But you didn't write those rap lyrics, did you? They were fucking awful!"
A playful voice crackled through the phone. Trying my best not to sound awkward, I cut straight to the point.
"Hyung, could I borrow your studio for a bit?"
"Yeah, of course! I'm there now. Wanna come over? I'll text you the address."
He agreed without even asking why.
Pulling my cap low, I headed for the door. Kim Dobin, perched on the sofa, looked up from his phone and called out, "Eden Hyung, where are you going?"
"To find a way to survive."
The youngest member's eyes flickered at my answer, but I brushed it off, wondering what was up with him.
After texting that I'd arrived, I knocked on the door. It swung open to reveal a man in his mid-twenties, who greeted me warmly.
His face looked much younger than I remembered.
"Yo, ED!"
Seeing Yongcheol Hyung's casual greeting suddenly made my chest tighten.
Memories of our past before the regression flooded back—how we'd been close friends, only to become worse than strangers due to misunderstandings fueled by malicious rumors.
Right, we used to be this close. If Hyung had apologized first, I would have gladly accepted.
"Yongcheol Hyung!"
Overwhelmed by a surge of sorrow and the joy of seeing him again after so long, I rushed forward with open arms. Yongcheol Hyung's expression turned serious as he covered my face with his palm and shoved me away.
"Ugh, you're a grown-ass man, stop acting so gross. And I told you a million times, don't call me Yongcheol, you little shit."
"No, I'm calling Yongcheol 'Yongcheol.' What else would I call him?"
Yongcheol Hyung let me into his studio, glanced at my profile, and shook his head.
"How come your looks haven't changed at all, even after becoming an idol?"
"Seriously? How would my appearance change when I haven't gotten any work done? Honestly, do I look like I needed plastic surgery to debut?"
"Well, you were always meant for this. That's why you didn't rot in the underground scene and debuted as an idol."
Yongcheol Hyung waved his hand in front of his face and chuckled.
His real name was Lee Yongcheol, but his stage name was D.I.
Apparently, it stood for Dragon Iron, hence D.I.
We'd become close a few years ago when I briefly dipped my toes into the hip-hop underground scene under the stage name ED.
He had approached me first, making a lame joke about forming a "Double Duo" with D.I and ED.I.
Even though our paths diverged when I abandoned the underground scene to become an idol, we maintained contact until my third year after debut.
But after that incident that drove us apart, we became worse than strangers.
Feeling bitter, I tore my gaze away from Yongcheol Hyung and aimlessly scanned the cramped studio.
The equipment was clearly brand new, but it felt strangely outdated compared to the state-of-the-art setup I'd had in my studio seven years later, which remained vividly etched in my memory.
Right, expecting the same level of sophistication after traveling back seven years would be greedy.
As I was pressing the keys of the synthesizer in front of the monitor running the DAW, Yongcheol Hyung draped an arm casually over my shoulder and said, "Hey, since you're here, why don't you treat me to a debut celebration meal?"
"Of course. Any good restaurants nearby you've been eyeing?"
I readily agreed, remembering how much he'd treated me to before my regression. Yongcheol Hyung shook his phone and gave my shoulder a light tap.
"Why bother going out? Let's just order Chinese delivery. How about set menu number two?"
"Will that be enough?"
"I know the industry inside and out. They're not going to squeeze money out of someone whose debut flopped."
"Yeah, it's such a shame. If it had been a hit, we could have gone for steak."
I replied in a flat tone, and Yongcheol Hyung ruffled my hair, saying, "When you finally make it big, you'll have to treat me to a success celebration meal too!"
The delivery arrived less than thirty minutes after I placed the order. Set Menu #2—jjamppong, jajangmyeon, tangsuyuk, fried dumplings, and a 1.25L bottle of cola—was spread across the studio table.
As I peeled the plastic wrap from the jjamppong bowl, I grumbled, "Those guys are probably laughing their asses off. 'Is this why you ran from the Underground?'"
"Yeah, you bet. You've become the Underground's favorite punching bag lately."
"Ha! Look at these nobodies acting all high and mighty. What a joke."
"Pfft! Did you start a 'Speak Properly Now That You've Debuted' campaign or something?"
Overwhelmed by the burst of laughter, I could only scratch the back of my head, unable to retort.
Explaining that cursing would lower my Original Intent Score and trigger regression would make me sound like a complete lunatic, even to myself.
As we reminisced about old times, sharing stories and polishing off bowls of jjampong and tangsuyuk, I reached for my second fried dumpling.
High-calorie food consumption detected.
Original Intent Score -1
A sharp pain shot through me, and the dumpling clattered back into the bowl.
Is this the System nagging me to watch my weight now? They say even dogs don't bother you while you're eating, yet it's deducting points for every little thing. Can't I just enjoy a meal in peace?
"You're not eating?"
"Nah, Hyung. You eat up."
This damn System won't even let me eat properly. Aigo, the System's really pushing me to my limit. First, it made me cough up blood, and now it won't even let me eat in peace. Aigo.
This penalty applies only to unbalanced, high-calorie foods, not all food.
"Same difference. Don't you know the higher the calories, the tastier the food?"
I waved my hand dismissively at the Status Window, as if swatting away a fly, and muttered defensively, "The password is 9125. Come work whenever you want. I won't be up here for a while. Just let me know if you need the studio later."
"What about the rental fee?"
Instead of answering, Yongcheol Hyung tapped his chopsticks against the jjajangmyeon bowl.
"What's this? You said it was a debut treat."
"Consider it a two-for-one deal. If you really want to pay, get successful and pay me back, you punk. It's pathetic seeing a young guy like you moping around like your life's over just because one album flopped."
Even though it was his own rough way of comforting me, I felt a sliver of solace. In return, I offered him some advice that might help his future.
"Thanks, Hyung. If you ever audition for a hip-hop survival show, make sure to get a short haircut. I don't want to see that mop of yours being called the 'Yongcheol Cut.'"
"What's he muttering about?" Yongcheol Hyung grumbled, scratching his shaggy hair as he finished cleaning up. He picked up the stack of empty dishes and left the studio.
As soon as the door closed, I switched on the computer, sat down at the synthesizer, and tapped the keys with my fingertips.
Creating a completely new song would be too risky.
I needed to capitalize on the company's investment while I still had the freedom to experiment and the potential of being a rookie artist. I had to make this gamble pay off.
That meant maximizing the chances of success.
I needed a song with proven public appeal and a high probability of success.
A song with an addictive hook and easy-to-follow choreography.
A song that perfectly matched a concept that wouldn't require excessive capital.
"Was this the hook's chord progression?"
As I played the keys, the melody flowed from my fingertips. Humming the lyrics to the melody, I was lost in memories.
This song was one I had composed in the past.
Frustrated by my agency's constant rejection of any song I brought them, I impulsively sold it to a rookie boy group at a small-to-medium-sized entertainment company.
Thanks to the song's surprisingly high chart ranking, the boy group gained public recognition. With the support of their agency—which had a much better sense for promotion than mine—they achieved moderate success.
This song was also the first to introduce me to the sweet taste of copyright royalties.
Using another composer's hit song would be outright theft, but since this was my song, I was fully entitled to use it.
I offered a silent apology to the group whose future debut track I had inadvertently stolen.
Sorry, I'll write you a good one later. Is that enough?
📝 Translator’s Note:
You may notice that certain lines or phrases in this novel appear both in their original Korean (or Hanja) form and in English translation.
This is intentional — these phrases are classical idioms, divine titles, or poetic expressions that carry layered meanings.
To preserve their original tone and authenticity, the raw text has been kept for reference, while the English interpretation is provided right before or after it. This helps convey both the literal and cultural nuance of the original work.
but if you guys dont want tha raw for future chapters or my future other novels u can just text me on discord and say so discord name Mr.Penny