Chapter 137
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 137
“I’m having a bit of a dilemma.”
The Japanese adaptations had been recorded long ago, but two of the original B-sides were being constantly overhauled. This was because Kang Yi-chae claimed he wasn't feeling them.
“I just can’t... I’m not getting the right vibe.”
On top of that, there was a bonus track.
In Japan, it was common for idol songs to be used as anime openings or endings.
With their Japanese debut approaching, Daepasung had finally managed to snag a decent opportunity. While it still had to go through various complicated processes and final approvals, there was a high chance the bonus track would be selected as the ending theme for a new anime.
“Does this sound like anime music to you?”
“No.”
While the genre itself could vary, Japanese music—including J-pop—had distinct characteristics that made its color immediately recognizable.
And those were the kinds of songs that usually blew up in Japan.
This particular track had the added mission of needing to fit an anime.
But the song Kang Yi-chae had made?
“The beat just smells like money.”
It was a slick, trendy beat that was 200% Kang Yi-chae’s personal taste.
That vibe had been what sustained The Dawn until now, but this Japanese track needed to be different.
“...I didn't think I'd be agonizing over something like this.”
Yi-chae tilted his head, seemingly unable to grasp the right feel.
He seemed conflicted about stripping away his usual strengths. It was even worse because he was the type of guy who had zero interest in anime, though he might have played a game or two.
“How do I get rid of the smell of money?”
“I love the smell of money way too much, so don't ask me.”
“...Can someone other than the Rabbit come here, please~?”
At Yi-chae’s shout, Jeong Da-jun—who had been spinning around in a rolling chair a short distance away—asked Kim Seong-hyeon to give him a push. He glided over in an instant.
“Hyung!! Didn't you watch Stormy Youth Hurrah Ninja Festival when you were a kid?”
“Stormy... what’s that?”
“...I don't want to talk to someone so uncultured.”
Though he had grown up to be a proper(?) drama geek, Jeong Da-jun had practically lived on anime as a child. He looked at the clueless Kang Yi-chae with judging eyes before snatching the laptop and pulling up Nutube.
“Look! The moment you hear it, you feel uplifted! Your heart swells! It makes you want to run across a school field with a tire on your back against the setting summer sun! It makes that fluttering youth you buried deep in your heart five years ago spring forth again!!”
“And what were you doing at fifteen, our little Da-jun~?”
“I was going to English academy~.”
“...So you were?”
“Wow, that’s cold!!”
Da-jun and Yi-chae bickered back and forth.
Regardless, Yi-chae seemed to get the gist of it. After listening to a few more related videos, he nodded.
“Ah, mm, okay, okay.”
He hummed a few notes and immediately started working on the beat.
It was like he was a factory. In no time at all, he produced a beat that felt like a refreshing breeze blowing through the sweltering heat of a sun-drenched, sweat-soaked afternoon.
“Whoa!! This is exactly the feeling!”
‘This crazy bastard...’
Yi-chae, who had been roughly matching a melody to the beat with his voice, shifted his gaze to Da-jun.
“...Is it good?”
Since it wasn't his personal style, Yi-chae tilted his head while resting his chin on one hand.
“Maknae, I don't think the anime for this ending theme was about running around a field with a tire... What was it again? Wasn't it about... Japanese trainees challenging K-pop or something?”
“......Oh, right.”
Caught off guard, Da-jun snapped his mouth shut.
The Hallyu wave, which had seemed to be cooling down, had begun to surge again in recent years.
It had even become a popular subject in manga. The anime The Dawn was working on followed the journey of Japanese male trainees trying to succeed as idols in Korea.
“Whatever. Then I’ll just make it with my own taste.”
Yi-chae seemed pleased that he could include his own preferences; even the clicking of his mouse sounded cheerful.
The song that had reeked of sweltering sweat and hot-blooded youth vanished, replaced instantly by a refreshing, crisp EDM track in the Deep House genre.
‘Hey...’
This was over the top.
Even with inspiration, was it really possible to overhaul an entire song's progression in just a few minutes?
‘Even I’d be annoyed by this.’
This genius brat.
I felt like I finally understood why Im Hyeon-su had withered away after being hit by a reality check. Yi-chae’s songwriting skills and sense were skyrocketing by the day, and now he was even infusing his music with a sense of inevitability.
“...Yi-chae.”
The other members continued to marvel at the scene, which was fascinating no matter how many times they saw it.
“Why... why did you let us go through Mang-Mang-Mang?”
“I thought I’d try experiencing the bitterness of life at least once.”
Don't lie, you just didn't want to do it.
Yi-chae chuckled and stood up to head into the recording booth. It looked like he was going to record the guide vocal.
“What is he, seriously?”
To just pump out a beat like that.
I figured the company would handle the Japanese lyrics, so I was just mulling over the beat when Kim Seong-hyeon glanced at Yi-chae in the booth and spoke.
“Did you know?”
“Know what?”
“Yi-chae’s been getting a ton of love calls from other idol agencies. They want him to write songs for them.”
I think I’d heard something about that through the manager.
“They tried going through the company at first, but when that didn't work, they got his personal number and reached out...”
“And?”
“He turned them all down flat.”
...Why? Why kick away a chance to make money?
I wasn't particularly against Yi-chae writing songs for others.
As I wore a confused expression, Da-jun hopped over to my side and waved Yi-chae’s phone.
“Look at this.”
“......?”
Da-jun familiarly unlocked Yi-chae’s screen.
He went into a messaging app, scrolled down, selected a conversation, and handed me the phone.
It was a long message. It went on about how they’d barely managed to get his contact info, how they were reaching out after seeing his work, asking him to reply if he was interested, and promising that the guarantee would be more than generous.
But Yi-chae’s reply was a masterpiece.
[Kang Yi-chae: Oops, I can't do that~ T_T haha]
Scrolling further down, there were other messages from Yi-chae.
No matter how persistently they asked.
[Kang Yi-chae: Please ask the company!!]
Even when they asked if he had any specific conditions.
[Kang Yi-chae: Yi-chae doesn't know anything about that kind of stuff~ T_T]
...It was like this.
‘Kang Yi-chae...’
Does he really use the third person even with people he doesn't know?
Feeling pity for the staff member on the other end who clearly looked pissed off while texting a headstrong twenty-two-year-old rapper, I handed the phone back to Da-jun.
“I was playing a game on Yi-chae Hyung’s phone when a notification popped up, so I clicked it... and I found him giving these kinds of replies. I asked him yesterday if I could show the other hyungs, and he said to do whatever I want.”
“Why? He should just do it. It’s good money.”
“Right?”
Unless it was a rival group, Yi-chae writing a song for another idol group wouldn't cause that much of a backlash. If anything, it would give the fans a sense of pride that someone in our group was capable of writing such songs.
Besides, it was more common than one might think for idols with composing talent to work on B-sides for other groups.
“Hyungs, why do you say such hurtful things?”
The sharp-witted guy, having just stepped out of the booth, caught the vibe of our conversation and pouted.
“Are you okay with me being touched by other people?”
“......”
“......”
“...He said he was going to keep Ho-yun Hyung in check, but he’s gotten really strong.”
“Being a leader is truly an extreme job...”
Kim Seong-hyeon moved away in disgust.
‘Is he serious?’
Isn't he just being lazy?
Yi-chae sprawled out on the sofa again.
The way he whined for two hours about not wanting to do it, only to get inspired for a minute and record a guide in five, reminded me of someone...
‘Hmm.’
Yi-chae was arrogant at times.
It wasn't out of ignorance; it was because he was a guy with perfectly accurate self-objectification.
A sturdy mentality, quick wits, and dazzling talent. It would be more strange for someone with those abilities to be humble, but...
‘But even that Im Hyeon-su hit a slump.’
That meant the time might come for Yi-chae as well.
“Forget these messages, I just wish our composer would come back soon. It’s been way too long since we saw her.”
“Didn't you say she went to find love?”
“Why on earth is she looking for love in California?”
Yi-chae grumbled as he picked up his phone. Seeing as he didn't actually reach out first, it meant he at least knew when to give people space.
“But did you guys hear!?”
“Hear what?”
“Why Composer Cheong-beom’s name is Blue Tiger.”
“Huh? Why?”
I really wasn't that curious.
I pushed away the clinging Yi-chae, but Da-jun, who was memorizing the Japanese lyrics for the song they’d just finished, spoke while nibbling on the cap of his pen.
“Because her first love—”
It already sounded cheesy.
“—had a blue tiger tattoo.”
“Whoa...”
Ugh...
“Honestly, if anyone else said that, it would be so cringe, but since it’s the composer, it actually sounds cool.”
“Right?! Isn't it amazing?!”
Why do you guys live like this?
‘Why is Cheong-beom so pathetic?’
I had worked with Im Hyeon-su for a long time in my original world, but I had never heard such a story.
Of course. I would never have let such unproductive talk penetrate my ears.
Seong Ji-won asked with a sly smile from the side.
“Should we get group tattoos too?”
“...Since Ji-won Hyung is the one saying it, it sounds like he’s serious.”
“Want to get ‘The Dawn’ engraved?”
“Seriously, fuck, don't even say that as a joke.”
“Ahaha.”
Not a group ring, but a group tattoo?
As I recoiled in horror, the maknaes burst out laughing, grabbed their wallets, and scurried off to the convenience store to buy snacks.
Seong Ji-won and Kim Seong-hyeon also left shortly after, saying they were going to do a B-Live...
Left alone, I popped a candy into my mouth and flopped down on the black leather sofa.
“Why is everyone such a weirdo lately?”
I clipped a piece of paper to my clipboard and organized my notes while clicking my pen.
The factors involved in the Japanese debut were the promotion period, content, and local awareness.
Assuming Yi-chae handled the music...
“Mmm, this will be the important part.”
The domestic backlash against the overseas debut.
Actually, regarding that...
I had roughly gauged the situation by looking at the reactions after the last year-end stage.
I rolled the candy in my mouth and muttered.
“I really did a good job sweeping and mopping the floor, didn't I?”
If Da-jun had heard me, he would have surely asked if I’d been cleaning.
I drew lines across the paper and wrote more names under the Japanese promotions section. I wrote them so that anyone else would find them unrecognizable, but I would know exactly what they meant.
I wrote down the initials of the company people I remembered and drew lines over them, added question marks, or underlined them.
And one person clearly stood out.
[LJH]
The person whose stomach was probably cramping from stress right about now.
*
A few days later, Lee Ji-hyeon’s stomach was indeed beginning to ache.
‘Handed over the Japanese radio stuff. Sent the negotiation email for the anime track.’
She crossed off the tasks on her to-do list. After the Apocalypse Trilogy concluded, Ji-hyeon had wanted to move on to a five-part series, but the company had desperately talked her out of it.
Ji-hyeon bitterly rested her head in her hands and shook it.
‘You uncultured bastards...!!’
But she admitted it. She knew that going one step further would be overdoing it, so she decided to shelve the plan for now.
For the past year, The Dawn had promoted like people who didn't know the meaning of exhaustion.
Along with the Apocalypse Trilogy and its solid worldview, there was the planning of hair, makeup, and costumes that drove fans wild, and an overflow of brilliant (read: crazy) self-produced content.
It was a perfect collaboration created by Lee Ji-hyeon’s planning skills and Seo Ho-yun’s execution.
‘Now is the crucial turning point.’
In the world of K-pop, where casual stanners are everywhere and veteran fans cycle through groups, The Dawn had succeeded in drawing attention and establishing a certain level of standing.
But they couldn't stop here. To quickly break into the mid-tier of the first-tier idols, this moment was truly vital.
A new concept, a new worldview, and this time, they had to capture the general public...
‘The Japanese promotions...’
That was what bothered her the most. Fans would likely curse them out, asking why they were being sent abroad when they should be solidifying their domestic position.
“The PR team says the news is coming out soon!”
‘Pro, pro, pro, promotions...’
Her legs were trembling. Even gulping down coffee didn't calm her heart.
How many nights had she stayed up during The Dawn’s promotions, crying while fretting over every single reaction?
Lately, she was always in a state of exhaustion, often feeling a simultaneous sense of accomplishment and emptiness. But now, due to the tension, she just hoped this would pass by safely.
“Ji-hyeon, why are you shaking your legs so much?”
“Ah, uh, well...”
“Are you nervous?”
The team leader asked in a kind voice. Thinking she was actually being looked after, Ji-hyeon was about to nod, feeling slightly touched, when—
‘......Hm?’
She met the peaceful faces of everyone else in the planning team.
In this office, the only one feeling anxious and restless was Lee Ji-hyeon.
“Te-Team Leader, aren't you anxious?”
“Hmm?”
The team leader took a sip of coffee and tilted her head.
“Why would we be? You’ve done a great job, Ji-hyeon.”
“......”
“You’re always so reliable~.”
No, if anything, it looked like they weren't even paying attention.
‘...Ah, damn it.’
Only then did Ji-hyeon realize.
‘This... this shitty little agency...’
These few people had dumped everything related to The Dawn onto Ji-hyeon. Their peace didn't come from experience; it was simply closer to indifference.
Ji-hyeon blinked for a moment after hearing those words, then hung her head low.
“...Ha.”
To hide the reality check hitting her once again.
It was because she didn't want to show the hollow laugh escaping her lips.
‘This is why people told me to just do the bare minimum.’
When you join a company, don't work too hard. Even if you have an Excel certification, say you don't know how to make a pivot table. Even if you speak a second language, just say you don't know it...
They didn't say those things for nothing.
Even if you work hard, very few people recognize its value, and even if their words are kind, it’s ultimately just a facade to exploit you.
“Ah, the article just went out!”
“The Dawn will probably do a B-Live now. Shall we head out for the day?”
“Sure~.”
While Ji-hyeon was taking a deep breath, everyone else just made a show of skimming the reactions before heading out in a group, using the excuse that this was the PR team’s job.
Go home? Ji-hyeon, who had planned to stay behind, munching on a sandwich while checking reactions and planning future steps accordingly... stood up unsteadily, her body trembling.
‘......Fine.’
“...I’ll go with you.”
“Oh, sure~.”
‘I’m not doing it either! I’m done!’
With her eyes squeezed shut, Ji-hyeon threw her work phone—which she had carried around for a year, anxious that a call might come at any moment—into her drawer.
“Let’s go.”
She stuffed her scattered belongings into her bag and trudged out of the office.
Even though it was late, the PR team was still working, so the company didn't go completely dark even after the planning team’s lights were turned off.
Posters of Min Ji-heon and The Dawn were plastered all over the lobby, but she tried not to look at them.
‘Honestly, I was being extra. Right. Who am I to care?’
“Aren't there too many late nights lately?”
“It’s the beginning of the year, so it can't be helped~.”
She was too exhausted to even respond or feel rebellious toward the planning team staff’s idle chatter. Ji-hyeon just kept her mouth shut until they reached the subway entrance.
Swish.
“......??”
She turned around right in front of it. A startled planning team staff member grabbed Ji-hyeon’s arm.
“Where are you going, Ji-hyeon?”
“...Go on ahead.”
No matter how much she thought about it, this wasn't right.
“I forgot something, I’ll be right back.”
“Huh? Really?”
Ji-hyeon wanted to go back and check.
‘Daaaaamn it...!’
She didn't want to just walk away like this; she wanted to stay until the end and check the reactions!
‘I know!! I know I’m being fucking extra!!’
Ji-hyeon gave a quick goodbye and hurried her steps.
“Pant, pant...”
Entering the planning team office, Ji-hyeon didn't even turn on the lights. Relying on the light coming through the crack in the door, she pressed the power button on her computer.
Tap, tap, tap, tap.
Clack!!
Typing her work computer password was now more familiar than typing the one for her home computer. Ji-hyeon quickly tapped the keys and, with a trembling heart, searched for ‘The Dawn’ and ‘Daepasung.’
Clicking the mouse with a shaking hand, Ji-hyeon blinked as she looked at the posts appearing on the monitor.
“......Huh?”