Chapter 38
Chapter 38
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 38
Chapter Title: Even as a Villain, I Want to Debut
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In the heavy atmosphere, the mid-evaluation for the Happy Sunflower Team began.
True to their lineup packed with skilled vocalists, the early parts went off without a hitch. Up to this point, it was so solid that it was hard to understand why the mood had been so grim.
The trouble started with Yoon Hyun-min's part.
― At the end of that wind we've longed for
The masters' expressions twisted in real time as they listened.
'So that's his actual skill level, huh?'
Suddenly, Yoon Hyun-min's polished rank evaluation performance came to mind.
Hearing it again now, you could really feel how hard the production team had been pushing him.
'Ah...'
I swallowed a sigh inwardly.
His vocalization wasn't even steady, and his singing was sorely lacking, yet his face was brimming with inexplicable confidence.
I'm no judge myself, but my ears don't lie. And honestly? This was rough.
It was such a shock that it even made me forget all the scheming he'd pulled so far.
'His rank eval was after weeks of practice with agency prep, so it wasn't this bad. Guess this is his true level showing through.'
Without any AR tricks in this live performance, his vocal skills were laid bare.
How did he think he could pull off vocal position with this? And picking that notoriously tough song, [End of the Wind].
― Now I know, my dear
The next part belonged to Kim Tae-in, of all people.
'What the? He can't even hit the high notes.'
In what should've been the climax, his high note cracked, producing an earsplitting screech. And he even flubbed the lyrics.
"Haa..."
I could tell right away.
Why this team's vibe was so off.
'When you've got killers surrounded by dead weight, it sticks out like a sore thumb.'
The gap was so stark it couldn't be papered over.
Once the song ended, the room went dead silent, like walking on thin ice. No one dared meet the masters' icy stares; they just stood there awkwardly.
"First, Tae-in."
"Yes."
"Your highs were shaky, lyrics were wrong. Have you even been practicing?"
As Shin Su-yeol laid into him, Kim Tae-in bowed his head.
"Honestly, at your rank, this is dangerous. Taking such a key part and bombing it—you don't feel bad for your teammates?"
"I'm sorry..."
Kim Tae-in mumbled his apology, head hung low.
Meanwhile, I caught Yoon Hyun-min's lip twitching upward as he watched.
"You're in the same boat, Yoon Hyun-min."
But his smirk vanished the instant his name was called.
"Even at a high rank, you know it's not safe, right?"
"Yes."
"Frankly, your skill level right now? Hard to call it good. It's tough to even listen to."
Still, Yoon Hyun-min slipped by relatively unscathed. Kim Tae-in's massive bridge flub overshadowed him a bit.
That's when Raise, sensing something off as he glanced between them, spoke up.
"I've got a question."
"Yes?"
"Did you switch parts recently? Kim Tae-in seems solid on other sections, but the bridge feels unpracticed."
At Raise's question, the team all turned to Kim Tae-in.
Yoon Hyun-min fidgeted like he'd been caught red-handed.
Is there some backstory we don't know?
"Uh, yesterday during practice, Hyun-min hyung suggested switching..."
Bingo.
There was definitely something.
"You swapped yesterday? The day before mid-eval? Why all of a sudden?"
Yoon Hyun-min jumped in, cutting him off in a panic.
"Oh, well, I wanted to give my part to Tae-in, so I handed over just the bridge."
"Why?"
Not even a rapper, yet Yoon Hyun-min rattled it off like one.
"Personally, I felt bad about some part-related stuff with Tae-in before. I was racking my brain on how to apologize, and settled on yielding the bridge."
I got the picture now.
Sure, he framed it as doing a favor, but it was anything but.
If it was a real concession, he'd have done it ages ago—not the day before mid-eval.
"What about you, trainee Kim Tae-in? Did you want this part? Did you think you could nail it?"
"Uh, I..."
Under the relentless grilling, Kim Tae-in started sniffling and dropped his gaze.
"Honestly, I thought it was too much and didn't want it..."
All eyes—masters and trainees alike—shifted to Yoon Hyun-min.
Sensing the mood, he quickly schooled his features.
"No, I only yielded it because Tae-in said he wanted it..."
But Kim Tae-in's choked sob cut him off.
"Hyung kept pushing hard... Said with my low rank, if I don't show it this time, I'm done for—told me to stake my life on it. So I said I'd give it my all... I guess I messed up. I'm sorry."
In the now-awkward air, teammates quietly comforted Kim Tae-in.
'Stake your life on it?'
Talk about projection—he's the one who needs to step up.
More than anything, the masters' faces said it all.
No matter how clever he thinks he is with his politicking, sharp eyes see right through it.
A twenty-something trainee playing sly might fool kids, but not industry vets.
'He just had it easy with all these young trainees around.'
The masters exchanged glances, holding their tongues.
As the vibe grew weirder, Yoon Hyun-min suddenly bowed his head, covered his eyes, and drew a shaky breath.
'What the hell?'
All attention snapped to him amid the abrupt drama.
"Trainee Yoon Hyun-min?"
"Hoo... Hoo..."
He heaved exaggerated, ragged breaths.
"I'm sorry. It's all my fault. I just wanted to give Tae-in, with his low rank and lack of confidence, a chance to shine..."
'Is he seriously fake-crying?'
What a farce.
Long story short: He schemed for the bridge— even cutting shady bathroom vote deals—because he wanted the spotlight.
But when crunch time hit and he couldn't hack it, he dumped it on Kim Tae-in the day before. If he really felt bad, he wouldn't have yanked it last-second.
Yet here he was, spinning it like some grand gesture.
Calling a hand-me-down a "concession"? Comedy gold.
'Anyone falling for this...'
Glancing around, I saw worried faces among the trainees.
The naive young ones were buying his crocodile tears. Pitiful.
Even more tragic? Good editing could sell this act as truth.
"As leader, I'm still lacking. I'll talk it out with Tae-in after. It's all on me. I pushed too tough a part on him..."
That's when it happened.
"Pfft."
A stifled laugh leaked out from somewhere.
Heads whipped toward the sound. There stood Han I-jae, hand over his mouth.
'...Did he just laugh?'
I thought it was hilarious too, but I wouldn't have the guts to let it slip.
Nah, maybe he just couldn't hold it in. Fits Han I-jae's personality.
"...Ah. Sorry."
With all eyes on him, Han I-jae cleared his throat like it was nothing.
"Ahem. Nearly coughed there and held it back."
As he brushed it off smoothly, attention returned to Yoon Hyun-min.
His eyes bloodshot, he glared at Han I-jae but forced a smile—pure venom underneath.
'This guy's insane.'
How does trash like this climb debut ranks? Reality was hitting harder than fiction.
'Life's stranger than novels, huh.'
Watching this nobody from the original wreak havoc live, I stifled another sigh.
After the mid-eval wrapped, next up was position-based self-evaluations.
"Leaders from each team, come forward and read your trainees' self-eval comments by position."
The sheets listed the worst performer per position with feedback.
For me, it was brutal. As leader, I'd have to call out my own team's weak spots.
'I'd take the heat myself, but dragging my teammates down too...'
On stage, I read our X Hero Team's self-eval sheet.
And yep, Kang In-hyeok topped the worst votes.
"Worst trainee, Kang In-hyeok. Rap sounded a bit stiff."
"Worst trainee, Kang In-hyeok. Looked super tense, body all rigid."
"Worst trainee, Kang In-hyeok. Rap came off unnatural."
Watching Kang In-hyeok freeze up live twisted my gut.
Production was savage—forcing public shaming of the weakest links.
You could rebut after reading, sure. But no point. Just wanted this over. Comfort them backstage later.
"And that's the end of X Hero Team's feedback time."
Heading back, I clapped Won Ji-an and Kang In-hyeok on the shoulders.
"In-hyeok hyung."
"...Yeah?"
"Hyung, it's just about finding your confidence. Means you're already killing it elsewhere. Get that back, and you're golden. Right?"
He looked hurt, but my words coaxed a smile. Seemed a bit better.
Production called the next team.
"Next, Solo Solo Do-Re-Mi-Fa-Sol Team leader, please come up."
As Han I-jae rose, all eyes followed him.
'...Does that name even make sense?'
The more I heard it, the more absurd. Hard to believe Han I-jae named it himself.
"Solo Solo Do-Re-Mi-Fa-Sol Team feedback time starts now."
Han I-jae read the first page from the podium.
For solos, it wasn't picking a single worst—it was overall stage impressions. Leave blank if no issues, or comment if needed.
'Mostly blanks.'
Han I-jae was too good for real gripes.
Others were prickly but fair.
"Worst trainee, Han I-jae. Sometimes so good it makes me wanna mark you worst."
He read in a flat tone.
Mostly blanks, but some feedback slipped in.
"Worst trainee, Han I-jae. All-rounder? Rap's just okay."
"Worst trainee, Han I-jae. Had high hopes, but didn't quite meet 'em."
"Worst trainee, Han I-jae. Trying to do it all looked exhausting."
Han I-jae covered rap, vocal, and dance, so feedback from all positions.
Production hyped solos like a privilege, but this felt cruel.
'Lucky it's Han I-jae. Any middling trainee would've been wrecked.'
That's when it hit.
"Worst trainee, Han I-jae."
Han I-jae paused. Then continued.
"Felt like beating a drum and gong solo from start to finish. Kinda funny."
He went quiet after reading.
Up to now, he'd breezed through unfazed. This one got under his skin, clearly.
The blatant malice had trainees murmuring.
"That's too much, right?"
"Isn't that just hate?"
"Who wrote that?"
I can guess.
That pointless "kinda funny" at the end? Pure bait.
'Petty revenge for laughing during mid-eval?'
I glanced at Yoon Hyun-min.
Sure enough, he was fake-worrying, nodding along with the outrage.
"Who wrote that? Too far..."
His phony act nearly made me snort.
'Seriously, wasn't that you?'
Anonymous submissions, so no tracing.
Production probably didn't expect this. Aimed for drama, not outright venom.
To me, only Yoon Hyun-min fit the profile for this slime.
"Beating a drum and gong solo, huh..."
Han I-jae muttered it like he was savoring it, then chuckled.
"Well, coming from someone who couldn't even beat a single drum solo properly, it's pretty funny to me too."
"......"
"...Wow."
Other leaders usually got cheers for clapbacks. Not this time.
The comment reeked of spite, and Han I-jae's retort felt brutally real.
"Trainee Han I-jae. Did you say that because you know who wrote it?"
Why ask that?
Production was ruthless.
"Mm... No, not exactly."
Even as he spoke, Han I-jae's gaze flicked to Yoon Hyun-min.
"Just, someone who'd write crap like that about others probably couldn't hack a solo themselves. Lenient on their own skills, harsh on everyone else, y'know?"
Han I-jae had sniffed it out too—the comment's source.
No more smirks from Yoon Hyun-min; he looked like a dog desperate for the bathroom.
Seeing it, Han I-jae smirked and pressed on.
"Anyway, if I look funny, go ahead and laugh. Better than crying over it."
He snapped the sheet shut and dropped one last line.
"Fighting."
Trainees watched him return in stunned silence.
Yoon Hyun-min alone sat there, face like he'd bitten into something sour.
'Haa, what a mess this is turning into...'
Banish Yoon Hyun-min from TOP9
🎁 Success Reward: 200G
I blinked, doubting my eyes.
'Hold up... Banish him from debut ranks?'