Chapter 1

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Translator: penny

Chapter: 1

Chapter Title: Regression

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This work is fiction. It is a fictional story unrelated to real place names, people, or organizations.

"Take off your shirt."

What?

I stared at the Pig President smirking sleazily. Hey. What did you just say? Telling me to strip at an audition?

"Didn't you hear me? Take it off. Kid."

I quietly wiped the smile from my face. Ah, President. A pressure interview, huh? Yeah. Any normal second-year middle schooler would panic right here.

But what can you do? This is my second time through life.

I stood up calmly and unbuckled my pants. The examiners buzzed as the leather belt came loose.

"Hey, wait. Why are you taking off your pants?"

I smiled brightly and said,

"I'm more confident in the bottom than the top."

"Don't! Just because I said take it off doesn't mean you actually do it!"

I tossed the belt aside and said,

"If you tell me to take it off, I will."

"What is this, dialogue from some '80s erotic movie? Don't take them off! Hey, someone stop him! If he actually strips, our company's image goes down the drain!"

Two examiners rushed out at the Pig President's words and held me back. I raised both hands regretfully. The Pig President wiped his forehead with a tissue and grumbled.

"Kids these days are scary. Listen, kid. You can't just strip because someone tells you to."

I smiled brightly and said,

"Cha Dowon."

"What?"

"Cha Dowon. That's me, President."

The Pig President stared at me blankly. Kid? How rude. Aren't we going to be seeing a lot of each other from now on?

I didn't look away from him. He stared at me for a long time before finally—smirk—he grinned.

Everything's great, President. But you've got tissue stuck to your forehead.

"Kids these days are really scary. Fine. Cha Dowon, huh?"

"Yes. Cha Dowon, Class 2-2, Number 22, Jeongseol Middle School second year."

"You're a funny one. Pretty gutsy for a middle schooler. Alright, Dowon. What's your nickname? What do other people call you?"

The examiner released my arm. I sat back down.

"It's a bit embarrassing."

"What is it?"

I blushed slightly and turned my head a little. It felt a bit contrived, even for me.

"Crazy."

Of course, I didn't have any nickname like that. If anything, it was "pretty boy." But the truth didn't matter.

I glanced at the examiners. The Pig President's buttonhole eyes had widened a bit. What's up, President? Acting surprised now?

I got it.

'You needed this.'

Friends Entertainment's idols were all about character marketing. That's why you're holding auditions like this.

'Crazy maknae.'

The Pig President covered his mouth after a long pause. I waited patiently.

How about it? Feels like you found the perfect fit?

Soon, he burst into loud laughter.

"Huhuhuhu. Puhahaha! This guy's the real deal."

I quietly shook my legs up and down. The Pig ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠President seemed genuinely delighted, unable to stop laughing.

'Should I pretend to be embarrassed?'

That's the kind of crazy maknae you want, right?

I scratched my cheek a little and averted my gaze. That's when my eyes met Kang Minje's—he was staring right at me.

'What are you looking at, punk?'

I wanted to glare at him with all my heart and soul, but right now, I was an innocent middle school second-year. I looked down shyly, and Kang Minje gave an awkward smile, as if to say relax.

'Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?'

What? Trying to play harmless? Cut the act, punk. I remember everything you did to me.

'But I can't show it.'

Right now, I'm a crazy but shy middle school second-year. Hold it in.

I ducked my head bashfully. The Pig President's laughter still echoed.

'I passed.'

I took a small deep breath. Yeah. Nothing major, but it's a start. Not even the starting line—just made it into the waiting room, really.

I turned back to the Pig President. He was looking at me with unusually sparkling eyes.

The tissue scrap dangled from his piggy forehead.

I smirked inwardly. Perfect.

The audition was a success.

-Dowon, don't drink alcohol.

My dad said. Listen to your mom. I thought it wasn't his place to say, considering he'd ignored her forever, but anyway. He grabbed my shoulders and earnestly warned me. Dowon, be loyal to Mom's words. If you listen to her, good things will come even in your sleep. You can't live like I did.

'Yeah, that's the key part.'

I could never live like him anyway, so skip that.

Anyway, my mom—the sun and pillar of our family, always slaving away to earn money—always told me:

-If you drink, you're dead.

She really meant it.

I quietly looked down. My body face-down in vomit looked pathetic and filthy.

I muttered at the air,

"You idiot."

First thing that came to mind was life insurance. Too bad it wasn't a big policy. If it had been, my sister could've had a shot at med school.

"Should've taken out more. Then sis could've afforded the med school she wanted..."

Sure, she'd have to retake the college entrance exam in her thirties, but still.

'I'm dead.'

I nudged my corpse lightly with my foot.

'Dead.'

No sensation.

'Yep, dead.'

It was disconcerting, but reality.

I stretched my shoulders. Time for an angel or grim reaper—anyone would do.

A sigh escaped me.

Honestly, I was boiling inside.

'Unfair.'

I had regrets too. Irritation surged, and I spat out my emotions with a breath.

"Damn life."

It sucked so bad. My life as a celebrity scattered like dust without even trying it.

"Ending as a theater actor, huh."

All I got was doing the acting I loved. If that low-budget film I did before dying blew up, maybe, but nah. A life leaving no name behind.

A chuckle escaped. Ah, really. What a nothing burger.

A life ending ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠because no one wrote more for it.

"If I got another chance..."

I wouldn't miss it. No, more than that. I'd roll like a dog, bite down harder, and succeed no matter what.

Lost in thoughts, I shook my head. Idiot. Still like this after death?

I swallowed my resentment and looked around. Come on, grim reaper, angel—show up.

That's when.

"What's that?"

Something unfamiliar in my familiar room. Faint orange glow drew me closer.

Up close, it was nothing special. An old-looking smartphone lay on the floor.

'Did someone leave it?'

I tilted ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my head and picked it up. Examining it, something odd.

"No charging port?"

Huh.

I turned the smartphone over.

"Wait, can a dead guy even touch a smartphone?"

Then it rolled off my hand onto the floor. I sighed, watching the screen scrape.

'That thing's totally busted, isn't it?'

I slowly bent down.

'Please, just don't crack the screen.'

Ridiculous. Worrying about a mystery smartphone's screen on the way to the afterlife.

As my hand touched it, I froze, speechless.

I muttered without thinking,

"What's wrong with this?"

It started flashing wildly. I stared blankly at the screen. Black and white alternating like a flickering light with wrong voltage.

A weird urge hit me.

'I need to touch it.'

Even if I get shocked, I have to. Something pulled me back like resistance, but I reached out calmly.

One finger touched the smooth screen—familiar feel. But weird.

Why's it so hot?

Then something yanked my waist. The world went black instantly. I grabbed the smartphone fully.

Nothing visible. Not my room, not my vomit-covered corpse—gone.

Only me and the phone.

I looked at the screen quietly. Black at first, then white.

Text appeared.

-cheat mode

"Cheat Mode?"

The text faded slowly from the edges. What is this? I stared at the blank screen, waiting. Nothing else came.

Then I was hurled somewhere. Clenching my teeth against the speed, my body shook like a plummeting ride.

I gripped the phone tight and endured.

How long?

A vibration in my hand. Squinting at the screen, a message blinked.

-I told you not to drink!

My mind went white. What? Who'd say that to me...

As my lips moved, the pressure intensified. I clutched the smartphone, squeezed my eyes shut. Vision whitened, then blackened.

'Mom?'

My last thought. When I opened my eyes later, everything had changed.

***

"I mustn't drink."

I muttered and bolted up. Cold sweat drenched me. Patting pockets for something to wipe with, it hit me.

'Where am I?'

Hearing came first. Amid the murmurs, I blinked.

'Right...'

Memory matched the place.

"Audition hall?"

Not cramped, but packed. I scanned calmly. Most wore blue jackets and jeans.

'Was that the fashion?'

All the same—funny. Am I too?

I looked down at my clothes.

'Lucky, I guess.'

Black mourning clothes. Hand in pocket felt something stiff. Pulled out—a rough hemp armband.

'Ah, I remember.'

Now I knew where I was.

'Ten years ago.'

Rushed here after playing bereaved at the funeral.

'And the result was hilarious.'

Came with desperate resolve, got rejected.

'Pretty sure I cried and quit on idols...'

A snicker escaped. Idiot. If you really wanted it, keep trying. Gave up after one high-competition audition...

'Well, I was young.'

Not anymore.

But something else mattered.

'Out of nowhere. Why ten years back?'

I looked at my hands. Underdeveloped—clicked my tongue. Was I this small at fifteen? Yeah, 160cm range. Growth spurt started then.

I sighed deeply. Vomit-soaked me flashed by.

Damn.

'Was it a dream? Then what was the smartphone?'

I looked around frantically. Then something on my chest fell to my thigh.

I picked it up quietly.

"What the hell is this, really."

Why back ten years? And this phone?

Pressed the button—screen on. No wallpaper. Just black background, white text.

[cheat mode 0/3]

'What cheat?'

Tilted my head, thinking. Cheat? Only remembered fixing money in old RPGs.

"No way?"

Not that method, right? How'd you use cheats?

Nothing to lose. Typed in Korean.

[Cha Dowon Eco Bank balance] [400,000 won. Change?]

New year's money saved frugally, past me.

Chin on hand, stared.

Soon smirked. No need to think. Tapped.

[Change to 20,000,000 won]

Greedless.

'Not even 200 million, just 20.'

Screen filled with dots.

'With this, could I become a global tycoon?'

I breathed deeply. Heart raced with bright future hopes.

Screen changed.

[Changing this will get you chased by financial regulators. Proceed?]

Jumped. Hurriedly canceled.

[Canceled.]

Back to start.

[cheat mode 0/3]

Stroked chin.

"Cheat, my ass?"

Financial regulators? Why realistic here?

Face twisted. Fine, try this. Angrily typed again.

[Cha Dowon dance skill] [C. Change?]

Hey? C-grade?

'Dance, singing, talent—dance was my best!'

Me at C?

'Self-loathing and baffled?'

Did this tank the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠audition? No way I'd let it. Tapped fast.

[Change to Michael Jackson level]

Why MJ? No idea.

[Impossible with current body.]

Oh? Wouldn't give up.

[Then A-grade] [Impossible with current body.]

Hey! What can it do?

Stared seriously at phone.

'What works, huh.'

So picky.

Hey, Cheat.

'Think I'd quit disappointed?'

No way. I use everything available.

Typed.

[B-grade] [...] [B-grade change complete. Body changing.]

Stared at dots. Basics are money and stats, yeah.

[Side effect: Foaming at mouth for 5 minutes.]

Narrowed eyes.

'What the hell.'

Should warn about side effects first, right?

'Is this even real?'

Not a dream? Pinched thigh, watched screen. It changed.

Then.

Joints twisted suddenly. Limbs shook. Cold sweat, muscles wrenching.

'Crazy!'

Body buzzed like electrocuted. Foam from mouth. Damn! That's the foam? Dropped phone, covered mouth. Body convulsed wildly. Couldn't breathe from pain. Hands slick with sweat.

'Damn! Worse than pain—don't look!'

Don't stare! No attention! No ambulance! Don't want red truck at audition!

How long?

Finally exhaled. Pain faded. Wiped sweat clumsily. Pain eased.

Checked phone time.

'About 5 minutes?'

Swallowed. Pain gone clean. Shed jacket, checked.

'Something... different...'

Snapped middle finger. Fast movement.

"Huh?"

Moved shoulders, legs. Felt light, not flailing.

Touched arm muscles—laughed.

'Changed.'

Definitely. Muscle quality and density different.

'Really changed?'

Clamped mouth quick. Laughter leaked through fingers.

'B-grade is nuts?'

How?

'No people, I'd test full-out!'

Looked around. All busy, ignoring me.

'Just a light step?'

Moved legs from seat. Toes to thighs—light as wind.

Suppressed grin. Gripped phone again. Saw something new.

[cheat mode 1/3]

Number changed.

'Limit?'

Not a genie.

'Limit means reset, right?'

Only 3 forever? Shook head. Instinct said no.

'No. No conditions? Feels attached somehow.'

Nothing on screen. No point now. Scanned room. Hundred teens, worn banner.

[Friends Entertainment Quarterly Audition]

Chin on hand, pondered. Past me failed here.

'Since I'm back...'

Swept back hair.

'Gotta pass.'

Gripped phone tight. No clue why this luck, but no living like before.

'So, what to do?'