adbindia Chapter 66: ✦ Unconscious Regressor [2] ✦
Chapter 66: ✦ Unconscious Regressor [2] ✦
The first thing Lee Kang-Joon did was stop treating debut like salvation.
That mistake had killed him ninety-seven times.
The trainee dorm at Starline Entertainment was loud in the mornings. Doors slid open and shut, footsteps overlapped, someone cursed about missing socks, another complained about vocal cords still asleep. It was familiar enough that Kang-Joon almost forgot how dangerous it was.
Almost.
He sat on the edge of his bed, spine straight, eyes unfocused.
Inside his vision—
[DO-HYUN — WILL TO EXIST: 63%]
The number pulsed faintly.
Not flashing.
Not urgent.
Yet.
Kang-Joon exhaled slowly.
In the previous regressions, Do-Hyun at this age had been energetic, optimistic, and obedient. He laughed easily, practiced obsessively, and thanked anyone who corrected him. Staff loved him. Trainers praised his attitude. Fans would later call him "born to be an idol."
That version of Do-Hyun had still died.
So cheerfulness means nothing, Kang-Joon thought.
The dorm door slid open.
"Kang-Joon hyung!"
Do-Hyun stepped inside, hair still damp from washing his face, hoodie hanging loosely off his shoulders. He held two convenience-store coffees, one extended forward.
"I grabbed yours too."
Kang-Joon accepted it.
"Thanks."
Their fingers brushed.
The number dipped.
62%
Kang-Joon’s grip tightened imperceptibly around the cup.
Contact-based fluctuation, he noted. Emotional response detected.
The system hadn’t explained that part yet.
Do-Hyun didn’t notice anything. He dropped onto his bed, humming under his breath as he laced his shoes. Same song as always. Something bright. Something meaningless.
"You ready?" Do-Hyun asked. "They said we have evaluations today."
"I know."
Kang-Joon stood.
In previous loops, he would have encouraged Do-Hyun here. Told him to relax. Told him he was doing well. Told him the company liked him.
That reassurance had acted like anesthesia.
Temporary.
Dangerous.
They left the dorm together.
---
Starline Entertainment’s trainee evaluation room was white to the point of sterility. Mirrors lined the walls. Cameras were fixed into the corners, black lenses watching without blinking.
Kang-Joon felt the system stir.
---
> EVENT DETECTED
Trainee Evaluation: Performance Assessment
> SYSTEM FUNCTION ACTIVE
---
A translucent panel slid into place at the edge of his awareness.
---
> CURRENT ARC: TRAINEE SURVIVAL PHASE
> PRIMARY FAILURE CONDITIONS
– Trainee Elimination
– Psychological Collapse of Primary Regressor
– Anchor Interference Breach
Kang-Joon’s jaw set.
Anchor interference.
Meaning him.
---
> EVALUATION METRIC UNLOCKED
> Performance Score
Mental Stability Index
External Validation Dependency
Kang-Joon’s gaze flicked to Do-Hyun’s reflection in the mirror.
The boy was stretching, expression relaxed, shoulders loose.
He looked fine.
That was the problem.
---
The evaluation began without ceremony.
One by one, trainees were called forward. Vocal checks. Dance routines. Improvisation prompts designed to catch hesitation. Trainers whispered among themselves, writing notes Kang-Joon couldn’t see.
Jae-Hyun went first.
As expected, he was flawless.
Clean lines. Stable vocals. Controlled breathing. The talent ace lived up to the reputation every single time.
Gun-Woo followed. Strong dance. Weak vocals. Corrected on the spot.
Han-Bin struggled with rhythm. Took feedback poorly. His shoulders stiffened.
Kang-Joon watched everything.
He didn’t clap.
Didn’t comment.
Didn’t intervene.
He was watching Do-Hyun.
When Do-Hyun’s name was called, the boy stepped forward with a smile.
The same smile Kang-Joon had seen dozens of times.
"Begin," the trainer said.
Do-Hyun sang.
His voice was clear. Not extraordinary, but pleasant. Stable. Earnest.
He danced.
Sharp footwork. Slight hesitation on turns. He recovered quickly.
When he finished, he bowed deeply.
"Thank you."
The trainers murmured.
One of them frowned.
"You’re improving," she said. "But you’re still playing it safe."
Do-Hyun blinked.
"I’ll work harder."
The system chimed softly.
---
> MENTAL STABILITY INDEX: DECREASED
> EXTERNAL VALIDATION DEPENDENCY: INCREASED
---
Kang-Joon didn’t miss the way Do-Hyun’s fingers curled into his palms.
The number dropped again.
61%
There, Kang-Joon thought. That’s the crack.
---
The evaluation ended.
Trainees filed out, buzzing with nervous energy. Some complained. Some laughed too loudly. Some went silent.
Do-Hyun walked beside Kang-Joon, posture straight, steps light.
"Hyung," he said, smiling. "I think I did okay."
Kang-Joon stopped walking.
Do-Hyun stopped too, startled.
"Yes," Kang-Joon said evenly. "You did okay."
The smile froze.
Not shattered.
Just... suspended.
"That’s it?" Do-Hyun asked, half-joking. "Usually you tell me I did great."
Kang-Joon looked at him.
Really looked.
"I don’t think ’okay’ is what you want," Kang-Joon said.
The system pulsed.
---
> WARNING
Anchor emotional input detected.
---
Do-Hyun laughed awkwardly.
"Well... I mean, of course I want to do better."
"Why?"
The question landed without padding.
Do-Hyun hesitated.
"So I don’t get cut?" he said.
"Why?"
Another pause.
"So the trainers like me?"
"Why?"
Do-Hyun frowned now.
"So I can debut."
"Why?"
The hallway felt suddenly quiet.
Do-Hyun opened his mouth.
Closed it.
He laughed again, softer this time.
"Hyung," he said, "what’s with the interrogation?"
Kang-Joon held his gaze.
"Answer it."
Do-Hyun looked away first.
"I don’t know," he said lightly. "Isn’t that just... what you’re supposed to want?"
The number dipped.
60%
Kang-Joon felt the weight of it settle in his chest.
You don’t even know why you’re here.
---
That night, Kang-Joon didn’t stay late in the practice room.
In past loops, he would have practiced until dawn. He would have dragged Do-Hyun along, forcing effort, forcing progress.
Effort without direction had been killing him.
Instead, Kang-Joon returned to the dorm early.
He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
The system flickered.
---
> DAILY STATUS SUMMARY
Primary Regressor Will to Exist: 60%
Trend: Declining
Risk Level: Low (Current), Escalating
---
"How fast does it drop?" Kang-Joon asked.
---
> VARIABLE
Rate fluctuates based on perceived autonomy, self-worth, and emotional exhaustion.
---
"And if I push him?"
---
> RESULT
Accelerated decline.
---
"If I protect him?"
---
> RESULT
Long-term collapse unavoidable.
Kang-Joon closed his eyes.
"So I have to let him struggle."
---
> CORRECT
---
"And if he fails?"
---
> RESULT
Failure may increase autonomy if self-attributed.
Kang-Joon exhaled.
"Then that’s it."
---
The next morning, Starline posted the evaluation rankings.
Do-Hyun was not at the top.
He was fifth.
Jae-Hyun first.
Kang-Joon second.
Gun-Woo third.
Han-Bin fourth.
Do-Hyun stared at the list longer than necessary.
He didn’t say anything.
Didn’t complain.
Didn’t smile.
The number flickered but held.
60%
Kang-Joon watched him turn away from the board and head to practice alone.
In the previous loops, Kang-Joon would have followed.
Corrected him.
Encouraged him.
This time, he didn’t.
Do-Hyun practiced alone until his movements lost sharpness.
Until frustration crept into his posture.
Until he sat down on the floor, back against the mirror, breathing hard.
Kang-Joon stayed outside the room.
Listening.
Not intervening.
The system remained silent.
---
That night, a new notification appeared.
---
> MAIN QUEST ISSUED
"SURVIVE AS A TRAINEE"
> Condition:
– Primary Regressor must remain within debut candidate pool
– Will to Exist must not fall below 40%
> Failure Penalty:
IMMEDIATE TERMINATION (ANCHOR + PRIMARY)
---
Kang-Joon stared at the text.
So this was the game now.
Not talent.
Not effort.
Choice.
He thought of the boy in the practice room.
The boy who smiled because it was expected.
The boy who didn’t know what he wanted.
I won’t save you by deciding for you, Kang-Joon thought.
I’ll force you to decide.