Mission Clear!
Hana grabbed Suhyun by the collar and shook him back and forth in playful exaggeration. “Lee Suhyuuuuhyun!”
Suhyun accepted the assault without any guard at all. The guilty look on his face refused to fade.
“You idiot! If you blurt out something brain-dead like ‘What do we do?’ right there, how the hell is that supposed to stay a hidden-camera prank? Is it? Huh?!”
“Knock it off, Yoon Hana. Was there anyone here who didn’t already know Lee Suhyun is a total coward?”
Choi Kang’s words drove in like another razor-sharp spear, straight into Suhyun’s chest.
“Ughhh~”
Even Seoeun showed no interest in defending him this time; she simply chuckled from the back of the room.
“Next time any of the kids pull a stunt like that, just leave it to us, okay? You too, Juyeon.”
Juyeon hadn’t said a single word, yet being lumped in with the scolding left her quietly irritated.
Idiot. Lee Suhyun.
Gunwoo, the vocalist who had been dragged out first and then released, struggled to contain the laughter that kept bubbling up. From this point on he was no longer a victim—he had graduated to perpetrator. The seniors’ single instruction had been simple: keep a solemn face and maintain the heavy atmosphere of suffering. His acting wasn’t exactly Oscar-worthy, but Gunwoo was determined to give it everything he had. After all, being the only one to fall for their stupid surprise had been pure torture.
“Man… Gunwoo!”
The moment he stepped inside, the girls swarmed him.
“Are you okay? What did the seniors say?”
“Sigh…”
Instead of answering he collapsed onto the sofa like a man in despair and hung his head.
“Did they chew you out? How bad was it?”
Taeho, whose acting had been the weakest of all, was already turning ghostly pale.
“Ah… seriously…”
When Gunwoo performed such convincing agony that he seemed unable to speak, the entire 24th generation’s mood plunged into something apocalyptic. The scene looked like survivors staring down the end of the world.
“Na Hyejeong, step forward.”
Hana, now fully in the role of grim reaper, called the next victim’s name. Hyejeong—who was practically Hana’s direct junior—swallowed hard. She was dragged to the stairwell, following the exact same route Gunwoo had taken. The script remained identical.
“So you’re telling me you plan to go onstage like this?”
“Hey. Answer when I’m talking to you.”
By now Suhyun was genuinely curious about Hana’s past. Had she once been a legendary delinquent who ruled the school? Only someone with serious experience could radiate this kind of aura. Even he, an active participant, flinched more than once.
“N-no… I’m sorry…”
“The apology isn’t for me. It’s for the kids who have to play with you, Hyejeong.”
“I’m… sorry…”
In the end Hyejeong broke into tears. The moment her sniffles echoed against the ceiling, Seoeun signaled the entire 23rd generation.
“Two. Three.”
A quiet whisper, then a warm embrace.
“Hyejeong! We’re sorry! This was all a hidden-camera prank!”
Hana burst out from the stairwell and apologized with genuine feeling.
“Ugh… Unnie… Aaaaaah! It’s real!”
She had been so anxious under the barrage of senior abuse. Some parts had felt a little over-the-top, so she’d harbored doubts, but Hana’s acting had been so raw that she fell for it completely.
“Yesss~ Success! Woohoo!”
“Aww, if Suhyun hadn’t messed up we would’ve bagged two!”
“Still… I don’t think Gunwoo would’ve cried even if it went all the way, right?”
The successful 23rd generation grew bolder. Hyejeong returned to the practice room with swollen eyes. When her gaze met Gunwoo’s—who already knew the full story—she had to fight hard not to laugh.
“Hyejeong, you okay?”
“What the heck… Wow, the seniors went way too far, didn’t they?”
Every new arrival came back mentally shattered, so the first-years were slowly suffocating.
“Kids… seriously… steel yourselves before you go in…”
It wasn’t preparation for a scolding. It was preparation for total humiliation. Both the bassist Jiho and the female vocalist Jiyeon suffered the same treatment. Jiho’s emotions ran so flat that he failed to cry. Jiyeon, on the other hand, delivered an all-time legendary wail that felt like refreshing cider on a hot day.
“Next is… Sohye?”
A brief maintenance break. Seoeun looked up at Choi Kang.
“You can handle Sohye yourself, right?”
“Just leave it to me!”
“Still, you’re actually scary, so go easy.”
Honestly, among them all, Choi Kang was the most visually intimidating. When a giant like him raised his voice, anyone would burst into tears.
Soon Sohye was escorted in by Hana. Like the others, Seoeun took the lead.
“Sohye.”
“Yes, unnie.”
“Any idea why you were called here?”
The model answer had already been learned from the classmates who went before her.
“Because my drumming is lacking…?”
“You know it well.”
Choi Kang took over. “Ji Sohye! Do you realize you’re the worst drummer in history?!”
“There has never been a generation this terrible!”
“You’re completely tarnishing the name Spirit!”
His thunderous bass voice bounced off the walls and vibrated the air. The sheer volume was intimidating, but the content itself… With Hana and Seoeun having already reached the pinnacle of mental destruction, Kang’s lines didn’t sound particularly threatening to Suhyun’s ears.
“Hic… hiccup…”
Less than thirty seconds in and Sohye was already crying. The seniors were the ones thrown off balance. They had set “make them cry” as the mission clear, yet her tears came so quickly that the flow was ruined. Even Choi Kang, who had been pumped full of energy, panicked. He lowered his voice and tried to soothe her.
“You’ll improve if you practice! I’m telling you to practice!”
“But… you never teach me, sunbae!”
What kind of twist was this? Seoeun and Hana’s narrowed eyes turned toward Choi Kang.
“When did I ever refuse to teach you!”
“Even when I asked you to watch my practice… you said you had to watch streams… that you were busy… and when I messaged you privately you barely even read them…”
The longer the conversation continued, the more uncomfortable Choi Kang became. Finally he stood up and declared an early end on his own.
“Th-this is all a hidden-camera prank! Sohye! We didn’t mean any of it!”
Instead of answering, Sohye threw herself into the approaching Choi Kang’s arms. Because she buried her face in his massive chest, no one could see her expression. The cunning 24th-generation drummer—Ji Sohye! She had realized it was a prank the instant Choi Kang opened his mouth. His acting had been crude, and she had been watching him closely for a long time. Turning crisis into opportunity, she pressed her body even tighter against him with far more ulterior motive than before. Yet she never forgot to keep up the convincing sniffles.
“Kang, we’re having a talk later, okay?”
Seoeun had not missed Sohye’s comment about never receiving practice guidance.
“Wow… Sohye’s mentality is stronger than I expected?”
Hana, completely unaware of the girl’s true thoughts, gently stroked her hair.
“Unnieee…”
Sohye completed her perfect emotional arc by transferring from Kang’s chest to Hana’s embrace. Now only one person remained: Suhyun’s own direct junior. Only Taeho.
“Lee Suhyun.”
Hana called his name with a trace of worry.
“Yeah?”
“If you can’t do it, want me to take over?”
In truth, Juyeon had handed most of the scolding authority over to Seoeun.
“No. I can handle it.”
Suhyun wanted to make up for his earlier mistake. And though it was a rather wicked thought, playing the perpetrator in a hidden-camera prank turned out to be surprisingly fun. Every time a junior came back resentful and clung to the seniors, he felt a strange thrill rise inside him. It was the kind of pleasure he would never have experienced if he hadn’t joined Spirit. Thinking this would be his first and last hidden-camera prank, he refused to let the chance slip away.
“I can do it, Hana.”
“All right. Then show us what you’ve learned and do it properly.”
While Suhyun renewed his resolve, the final target—Taeho—was dragged away. Inside the practice room the 24th generation was in absolute chaos.
“Ack! Fuck! Crying was so damn embarrassing.”
“Wow… I really thought I was going to die from how scary Hana noona was.”
“You morons lolololol. You actually fell for that?”
“Wait, Ji Sohye, you knew?”
They bragged about and compared what each of them had heard from the seniors. Those who hadn’t cried were the winners. Those who had were the losers. Victory and defeat were decided that clearly. And surprisingly, they were already burning with anticipation for the 25th generation that hadn’t even arrived yet.
“The kids next year are seriously screwed. Just wait till they walk through that door.”
Bad traditions were inherited exactly like this.
“Do you understand, Taeho?”
At Suhyun’s icy tone, Taeho felt his heart stop. His mind went completely blank. The fact that the hyung he had thought was simply friendly was now looking at him with those eyes hit him like a shockwave.
“D-did you… really think that about me…?”
He prayed desperately. If this was a prank, he wished someone would say so quickly. How could a person… do this to another person? Was Suhyun hyung actually a psychopath? Had every clumsy, awkward side he had shown until now been nothing but an act?
“Hah.”
What returned instead of an answer was a cold, mocking laugh. The rest of the 23rd generation stayed silent, yet they couldn’t hide their astonishment. Suhyun seemed to possess an even greater talent for cornering people than Hana. Only one person watched the scene calmly—Juyeon, who had already experienced this from Suhyun once before.
“Do I look like I’m joking with you right now?”