Chapter 64

Sarin — who'd cried her heart out on the scale Dan Haru had been aiming for — quickly pulled herself together and grabbed the mic again.

"The truth is, this is my signature song… but at some point, it became a song I was terrified to sing."

Sarin was well aware of the nickname she'd earned — one that had spread past the music industry to the general public.

The Funeral Director.

In her prime, she'd been so proud of that nickname. To protect it, she'd given her all on every stage, delivering the finest song she could every time.

— Ah… even Sarin can't beat the years

But she'd never once imagined that very effort would turn into a wall trapping her.

title: [4K] XX0712 Sarin SARIN — 'To You I Declare' @ Neon Park Festival - wow the live is insane ㄷㄷ - unnie pleeease just drop an album - kinda sad her old voice isn't coming through was her throat off > toured too many events in her breadwinner-girl days… ㅠ she should've rested after album 3 - i still can't get over the 'to you i declare' she did at that awards show 4 years ago that day was legit hermès, outdoors with the wind, sarin fully feeling it, the little tears welling up at the last chorus, all perfect and the girl idol's overcome reaction at 2:17 just an unrepeatable legend > where can i watch this > search XX1230 sarin to you i declare and it comes up > brought the link itube.com/watch?

Her song — the one people used to say she 'buried' every singer with — had, at some point, settled into a barrier even she herself couldn't clear.

"It was a song that had already become too well-known to the public, and one I'd sung too well…. So honestly, every time I sang this song, the pressure was especially heavy. My own song had gotten to where even I couldn't sing it easily."

The reason she hadn't taken the stage from the moment she got pregnant up until now — pinning it on childbirth and childcare — was the same. From some point on, Sarin had lost her confidence to sing onstage.

Because she couldn't reproduce the voice she'd had ten years ago, young and green. After giving birth, once her body wasn't what it used to be, it only got worse.

"But… watching the stage you prepared today, for a moment, I forgot this was my own song."

Sweeping high notes, intense emotional expression, flashy ad-libs and technique.

Every one of the conditions her song had been treated as a formula for — all of them shattered — and yet 'To You I Declare' was still good. And new.

She realized these lyrics could carry an emotion like this too.

"For the first time in a really long time, I felt like I was meeting 'To You I Declare' all over again. So there was this — ah, I want to sing it with this emotion, this part with this kind of expression too…. That's what I found myself thinking."

"Wow, that's high praise, sunbaenim."

At Sarin's lavish evaluation, Enderway's Choi Yeonwoo threw in a playful clap. The boys onstage — still dazed — looked at each other and scratched the backs of their heads.

And at the center of that, Sad Ending team's leader, Kang Hajin, thought:

'Ugh, seems I set off the waterworks proper.'

Whatever it was, jackpot. Hadn't meant to do quite this well — maybe the plan needed a tweak….

Hajin thought of the Voluntary-Resignation Combo somewhere in the studio, monitoring all this, and let the tension out of his body.

'Won't hurt to have my market value up.'

Hajin thought simply and nodded.

But apparently, the impact of their stage wasn't quite that simple.

'Sarin' has achieved a realization! A turning point occurs from 'Sarin's realization. 'Sarin's timeline is shifting….

'…Huh? What's shifting?'

Before he could finish reading and processing the text piling up on the System windows, Sarin — with a relieved smile — delivered her closing line.

"Thank you so much for letting me meet my own song anew."

'Sarin's fixed event (going into hiding after retirement) is deleted.

'Come again?'

Something… feels like we just pulled off something huge.

---

"Alright, we'll cut recording briefly for dinner then keep going—!"

"Sad Ending team! Heading to the waiting room! Gather up here!"

"Mentor-nims, please head back to your dressing rooms! We'll sort out the call time and let you know!"

After hearing the assessments from the rest of the mentors — Sarin aside — we headed down to backstage.

"W-we did well, right?"

"Sarin-sunbaenim's assessment was really so good, for one thing…."

It seemed they weren't shooting separate backstage reactions this time — normally they'd have us gather and chat for a bit, but this time a runner led us straight to the waiting room.

The whole walk back through the long corridor, my teammates still had these dazed faces on. For a bunch of guys who'd not only torn up the original artist's stage but literally torn up her timeline, it was a pretty feeble reaction.

The reason was simple.

"But the other mentors' comments were a bit underwhelming, so I'm not sure about the result."

Because from everyone except Sarin, they'd gotten pretty ambivalent feedback.

—To start, the fresh approach was good. Just that for a competition like this, it felt a bit flat?

—Your energy! That one thing — your energy — is really something worth recognizing.

—Would've been nice to see a little more vocal capability, at least in my view….

Was it on the criticism or the praise side? Of course, the praise side. It just wasn't especially satisfying, given that Sarin had gone as far as shedding tears delivering her rave.

But I gave a relaxed smile and patted my teammates on the shoulders.

"It's fine, guys."

"Huh?"

The only thing making it to broadcast is Sarin crying.

"We gave it our best — so whatever the result is, we're good."

"Ahh. Right! We really worked so hard!"

"Yeah! Getting recognized by the original artist is enough!"

The two Feather-class guys — whose main strength was staying sunny no matter what — nodded vigorously at what I said.

Right, right. Maybe because their expectations had been low to start with, they seemed plenty satisfied with the current result.

We each grabbed a bento being handed out at the waiting room entrance and dropped into a chair. Something I'd felt since a previous life — say what you will about this production company, they fed us well, and I appreciated that.

"Hyung, here — chopsticks."

"Ah, that's my boy."

"Are you really talking like my grandpa now?"

"Want your New Year's cash?"

"I shall show my respects, grandfather."

The moment my short back-and-forth with Seo Taehyun wrapped, everyone instinctively dove headfirst into their bento boxes. They hadn't eaten a proper breakfast for fear of puffy faces, so it was full-on eat-first-figure-it-out-later mode.

'Me though — thanks to my skills, puffiness isn't a concern, so I ate a solid meal earlier.'

Slowly cracking open a water bottle, I pulled up the System alerts from earlier again.

'Sarin' has achieved a realization! A turning point occurs from 'Sarin's realization. 'Sarin's timeline is shifting…. 'Sarin's fixed event (going into hiding after retirement) is deleted.

Sarin had always paused her activity and left the music industry around this time.

In life one — the only one where I got regressed mid-college-entrance-exam and never even made it past twenty — I don't know how it went…. But in every life besides that one, it had always been the same. And now that was changing.

'And these fixed events — you could actually delete them?'

The way it had been talked about like some hugely important unwritten rule, I'd assumed it absolutely had to happen. But if Park Jaeyoung's had been modified too, maybe these aren't completely unchangeable conditions?

Through the recent update, the (Fixed) Regressor's permissions have been updated. More information about a human's 'timeline' is now accessible for review. To access the information, would you like to enter the 'unconscious space'? (Entry condition: knocked-out sleep)

'Seems they brought over a lot more than I expected.'

That said, recording still wasn't done — I couldn't exactly go knock myself out for a nap.

I flagged the last alert with a star and cleanly dismissed the windows.

Th-this is really important information!

'Yeah. I'd figure so.'

It's an update patch — obviously they'd have cherry-picked the important stuff. Still, right now, what matters to me is less the grand epic of human fate and more the fried chicken and stir-fried spicy pork right in front of me.

Something really, really enormous is unfolding right now… this is genuinely huge…!

Sorry, but right now the most enormous, most genuinely huge thing to me is that they brought a proper two-side-dish bento for a bunch of trainee-level cast members instead of the usual {chicken-mayo.}(#tww3e847bxc2)

…the System feels an inexplicable sense of defeat and is disappointed.

'That's how Systems grow up.'

By now, the System's whining was familiar territory — best to just fold it up and set it aside.

'Speaking of — what was the maknae AD around here thinking, picking a bento this fancy. Is the budget really that big? Well, then again, back when I was the maknae, PD Kwon was already dead serious about meals.'

Musing on all that while I dumped my whole stir-fried pork and kimchi onto plain rice and mixed it all up, I locked eyes — of all people — with Han Seongwoo passing across from me.

"Wow, my appetite just dropped…."

Dropped, my ass. I deliberately didn't look away, scooped up a big heap of the well-mixed bibimbap, and shoved it into my mouth in one go. Wearing a face like he'd chewed sand, Han Seongwoo turned his head away and went back to his own seat.

And apparently having watched the whole exchange between me and Han Seongwoo, Seo Taehyun — sitting next to me — let out a small sigh.

"Grandfather, please hurry up and eat."

"Kids these days, no respect for their elders. Tsk."

"But honestly, I really don't want to lose to that hyung."

"Ditto, my grandson."

I picked up the bento — every last grain scraped clean — and stood up. This one habit of putting away food as fast and efficiently as possible was one I just couldn't shake.

I was about to toss the empty bento into the recycling box when I noticed someone with a light-colored head parked in front of it.

"…Lee Yugeon?"

Lee Yugeon — yellow-bleached hair swept back, three piercings in one ear, wearing tight leather pants — was hunched awkwardly folded up in front of it. I'd been wondering what he could be doing in that suffocating-just-to-look-at outfit — turned out he was neatly sorting through the bentos and utensils dumped haphazardly in the box.

"What are you doing?"

"You get fined if you sort recyclables like this."

"And why are you the one redoing it?"

"Habit. Just leave yours here, hyung — I'll toss it."

And then he was diligently peeling off even the sticker stuck on a bento lid. I'd noticed this since last time — this bastard isn't quite right either. He's on the same team as Lee Doha, so next time I'd fish for info from him, ask what he thinks.

"I said just leave it?"

"Nah, I'll help."

Look — if I hadn't seen this uncomfortable ball of leather crumpled up here, that'd be one thing. But I had, and walking past just wasn't in my nature.

It looked like there wasn't much left anyway, so I'd help clean up and slip in some conversation while I was at it.

'And I'm curious how a guy supposedly cast as the special class's main dancer role ended up loaded with such heavy debuffs.'

I pulled up Lee Yugeon's stat window from before.

label: Lee Yugeon (Agency: Miro) Debuff: All traits −20% from base achievement rate Position: Dance Vocal: 37% (Rap 71%) (−20) Dance: 33% (−20) Expression: 45% (−20) Special: Copy & Paste (64%) (−20) Appeal Point: 'There are still twelve ships remaining.' — Sense of responsibility, tenacity, deep immersion (grit, drive, performance execution (51%))

'How the hell are you all squatting in the special class with numbers like these.'

I'd wondered if he might be in a similar bucket as Lee Doha, but his stats definitely didn't measure up for that either. Sure, watching his last stage, it hadn't felt like he was outright bad… but something wasn't sitting right.

'And also — this stat window is definitely a bit inconvenient.'

It's good for spotting potential, but at this point I needed some objective standards. Another thing I'd need to negotiate the next time I checked in on that update busi…

"Ah, sorry."

…was as far as the thought got before an empty bento box dropped onto my arm. Leftover kimchi juice and sauce splashed and got all over my clothes.

"Didn't see your hand there. Were you throwing out trash?"

I looked up at Han Seongwoo — who'd flung a bento box in front of someone perfectly obviously in the middle of sorting trash — and forced the corners of my mouth up.

"Hyung-nim, seems you really need to get some glasses. You keep failing to see things lately."

Ugh, this insufferable bastard, seriously.