22. The Most Effective Way to Remove a Bomb (7)

Department Head Son Hyung-gu belatedly picked up on the strange atmosphere circulating within the company recently.

It felt like all information was deliberately avoiding him. That unsettling sensation of missing something critically important.

'Just when things were already frustrating enough. What the hell is going on?'

He only recently noticed that the father of his nepotism hire—who had been ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠managing his personal funds—along with surrounding investors had been dodging his calls.

'And that damn Cherry kid is back too... Tch, nothing ever goes smoothly.'

But the department head, already mired in complacency, failed to recognize these bizarre signs as the precursors that would completely derail his future.

It began with the nepotism hire.

"Withdrawing investments? What kind of sudden nonsense is this?"

"How should I know? You kept asking for money instead of debuting me like promised, so I guess Dad got fed up."

"I said it's happening soon! Don't we need supporting acts for the debut group?"

"Did you think that money was to promote my backup dancers? It was supposed to be for me, not those other guys."

"......"

"Couldn't even properly take down Seo Tae-hyun, and now this."

The nepotism hire turned his back overnight.

Losing his biggest investor sent the department head into a panic. But he'd already carelessly committed numerous ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠misdeeds while planning to start his own company. To cover his tracks, this project absolutely had to proceed.

'Damn it! If only I hadn't lost those Uvia kids, I could've held out a bit longer with them.'

Remembering the Uvia members who'd slipped from his grasp last year, the department head grew increasingly anxious. He missed the days when he could hold their schedules hostage, enjoying free meals and money. Even siphoning company funds was reaching its limits.

'At this point, I must secure Joo Eun-chan and Dan Ha-ru no matter what. Or at least that bastard Seo Tae-hyun...'

Just as the department head prepared to blackmail trainees using "debut" as leverage, his phone finally vibrated. Distracted, he'd missed a mountain of calls and messages. An instinctive chill ran down his spine as he sensed something amiss.

To check what was happening, he opened the most recent message from one of his lackeys—someone he'd treated as disposable for mutual gain.

<Boss, emergency! Miro's next-gen article dropped and investors are blowing up my phone. Call me ASAP after reading this...>

'Miro's next-gen? An article dropped?'

Impossible. There's no way Miro would release news about their next group without me knowing. Besides, the group was supposed to debut anyway, so why the commotion...?

<Miro Launches Next-Gen Male Idol Survival Show... Targeting Second Half Debut>

<Boyhood Under Heaven's Seo Tae-hyun Joins Miro Survival... Will He Spark Second Cherry Boy Craze?>

<Uvia's Seo Tae-il Joins Miro's Next Survival as Producer... "Many Promising Trainees" He Says>

With each article, warning bells blared louder in the department head's mind.

Then, the office phone—silent until now—rang.

"...Hello."

—Come upstairs.

It was the CEO. Something had gone terribly wrong.

How to utterly destroy the department head.

'Media exposure is off the table.'

Unless you're a celebrity where reputation matters, what use would news outlets have for exposing an ordinary person who isn't even an entertainment CEO?

'Fraud charges?'

An idol trainee getting embroiled in such ugly business before debut offers no benefits. Regardless of guilt, avoiding any association in search results is the wisest move.

'...Just smash his head in and regress again?'

While thrilling, breaking someone's skull isn't exactly easy... And it doesn't solve the root problem, so dismissed.

Then how to annihilate him? The answer was simple.

'Why do it myself when others will?'

A storm of blood was brewing at Miro.

I strategically disseminated all gathered evidence—first to Ji Soo-ho. Armed with what I provided, he went straight to the CEO, who promptly hit the roof.

From poaching trainees to embezzling company funds under the guise of business dinners—once these schemes surfaced, the department head was immediately sued by the company for misappropriation.

Next came the media.

First, we heavily promoted Miro's upcoming survival show.

We fully utilized Uvia's Seo Tae-il and Boyhood's Seo Tae-hyun as faces of the project. During this, we strategically leaked information about Miro's trainees while subtly excluding the department head, allowing savvy investors to connect the dots.

'Rumor has it Miro's Department Head Son's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠strings have been cut.'

At the right moment, I fed specialized investigative outlets some materials. The theme: <Entertainment Companies Exploiting Trainees—Is This Okay?>

Though anonymously submitted with cleverly obscured subjects, industry insiders could easily guess the "exploiter's" identity.

Unexpectedly, luck also intervened.

<Project W's Ato Speaks Out: "I Was Also a Victim">

<"Prevent a Second Pdeop Scandal"... Ato Breaks Silence>

The "true victim"—forced into endless overseas schedules post-debut under the department head's faction before disbandment—stepped forward to take the heat.

'Well, they were already preparing to sue—the timing just aligned perfectly.'

Did Ato sue the department head in my previous life? I couldn't quite recall.

Once ignited, the fire spread on its own. Overnight, the ousted department head became buried under massive debt—investigated for embezzlement by day, harassed by creditors by night.

'He'll be too busy to care about debuts or regressions for a while.'

Several company staff were also purged. Though talent is precious in entertainment, given the severity, the CEO seemed determined. Consequently, Ji Soo-ho looked perpetually swamped—scrambling to staff the survival show while replacing personnel—but that's just part of the job.

"Where the hell did Seo Tae-hyun disappear to?"

He should've been practicing in his private studio. Just in case, I loitered near the special class's exclusive A-room. I couldn't wander much longer with my next class starting soon!

"Ah—"

"Ah, sorry...?"

Distracted while searching for Tae-hyun, I collided with someone approaching the practice rooms.

Normally, such collisions would send the other person sprawling, making reflexive apologies necessary—yet I was the one who bounced back.

'...What is this, a bear?'

Not since middle school had I experienced such an impact. Dazed, I looked up to see a man slightly taller than me (and I'm not short) bowing awkwardly.

"...My apologies."

"Ah... no, I wasn't looking either."

As I tried to brush it off and move on, the man studied me briefly before nodding and passing by. Probably from the special class, given I'd never seen him before.

If all the special class trainees I haven't met are at that level, was I doomed from the start?

"Hey."

"...?"

While marveling to myself, the guy standing by the practice room door suddenly called out.

"Are you Kang Ha-jin?"

"...? Yes. I'm Kang Ha-jin."

"Ah."

"You know me?"

What, how does he know me?

"Tae-hyun's probably on the rooftop garden. He said he was taking a short break earlier."

"Ah, thanks. But how did you know I was looking for Tae-hyun...?"

"He said if a scary-looking guy with black hair comes looking for him, to tell you that..."

That bastard Tae-hyun, seriously.

"Anyway, thanks. Practice hard."

Determined to march upstairs and thump Tae-hyun, I quickly walked away.

Only much later would I learn that bear-like guy kept watching me long after I left.

Meanwhile, Seo Tae-hyun sat alone on the rooftop garden, steeped in sentimentality.

"Life's so unfair."

His life had flipped overnight. That all this happened in just one week seemed unbelievable.

It felt good—but not entirely.

"What are you doing?"

"......"

"Breathing like that won't make the ground swallow you. Take deeper breaths, kid."

Tae-hyun didn't bother turning. He knew it was Ha-jin without looking.

"Shouldn't you tell me not to sigh instead of breathing deeper?"

"Why? Sighing's healthy. Articles say deep breaths are good for you."

"Hyung, you're seriously weird."

"Thanks. I'll take that as a compliment."

Cheerfully deflecting, Tae-hyun scooted over as Ha-jin sat beside him. And it struck him anew.

'We've only known each other a week.'

Yet Ha-jin had this knack for putting people at ease, as if they'd known each other years. Strangely, unfiltered words tumbled ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out effortlessly around him.

Like right now.

"What, here to catch me? Worried I'd run again?"

Ha-jin shot him an indignant look that screamed, 'You dare say that with your own mouth?' Tae-hyun felt slightly (very slightly) intimidated.

"Tae-hyun."

"......"

"If you run, stay within the metro area."

"...I'll try."

"Gangwon Province will kill me, seriously."

Just remembering the train fare to Gangwon made Ha-jin grit his teeth. (Though moneybags Joo Eun-chan paid.)

But Ha-jin had another purpose for tracking Tae-hyun down.

[System Alert: Comrade 'Seo Tae-hyun's' current status... "Rather Depressed"]

That red alert had been blinking since morning!

'Why "rather depressed" anyway?'

Got the department head handled, reinstated as a trainee, even scored headline articles making waves online. What's there to be depressed about? Wait—why's depression triggering a red alert? People get depressed sometimes!

After this mental spiral, Ha-jin decided: Just ask directly!

"So what's up?"

"What's... what?"

"Why are you depressed?"

"Hyung, you're seriously amazing."

Tae-hyun gaped at the blunt question. Ha-jin simply sat beside him, leaning back with a "spit it out" expression.

Strangely, Tae-hyun liked that "no big deal" attitude. It made his emotional burden feel lighter.

"It's just, you know."

"Cut to the chase."

"Cha Min-seok. Because of Cha Min-seok."

"That bastard? Why?"

"...Wondering if I should apologize."

Tae-hyun grimaced, bowing his head. He'd been thinking about it all the way back to Seoul.

"I originally left because of him during Boyhood. He was supposed to leave, but his parents objected."

"But."

"I knew, you know? How his parents made him suffer, how anxious he was after being cut from Enderway's debut team, his back injury stress..."

"......"

"When I confronted him last time... I was in the wrong too. So I wondered if I should apologize..."

His voice trailed off—purely because he didn't want to. Facing Min-seok now was uncomfortable enough; actually apologizing sounded worse.

Yet as someone who entered the industry young, Tae-hyun kept thinking it'd be better to mend fences with Min-seok for future networking and benefits...

"What nonsense is this?"

"Huh?"

"What do you have to apologize to that bastard for? Regret not going crazy properly?"

"No, but... he let my past incidents slide..."

"Then he should apologize to me more. I went all the way to Gangwon to persuade you."

"Well, that's true."

"So thank me instead."

"Huh? Oh, thanks."

"Good. Do better, kid."

"Uh, okay..."

Wait. Something feels off. Tae-hyun blinked his large eyes in confusion.