Lee Jihyun shuddered, goosebumps rising on her arms, and took a few steps back from me. “Seo Hoyun-ssi, are you... on your second life or something?” I masked my surprise at her dead-on remark and asked back, and she just shrugged. “It’s like you’re one of those web novel protagonists—making flawless plans and executing them.” “I read a lot of web novels, and you keep reminding me of those characters. A regressor or a possessor... you know, someone living their life a second time or who knows the future—driving forward recklessly without caring about their body, just to carry out a plan...” “...Forget it, I’m sorry.” Muttering, “What am I even saying to a perfect mortal...,” Jihyun scratched her head awkwardly. Normally, I might’ve humored her, but in moments , 90% of what she said was incomprehensible to me. “Ahem, ahem. What I mean is that you’re impressive, Seo Hoyun-ssi. And, I’m sure you already know, but I’ll still tell you—Noeul’s been worried. Since there’ve been occasional comments about your health before, the fans are concerned.” Noticing my reaction, she added a few more words. “We’re worried too. I know the company prioritizes numbers, but in the end, you have to be healthy for anything to work, right?” “You must have less work lately, Jihyun-ssi. You’ve even got time to worry about company people.” “...Call it my humanity?” It was manageable, not exhausting. No—there was no time to be exhausted. I was at the point where it felt like a waste that a day only had twenty-four hours. I smirked and got up from my seat. “You won’t have time for that soon if you want the picture to turn out pretty.” Leaving a disgusted-looking Jihyun behind, I stepped out of the planning office. ‘That part’s handled.’ In a few days, I’d likely get a call about booking me for Perfect Singer. If I appeared in the very first broadcast, it’d draw a decent amount of attention. As long as I balanced it with enough lightheartedness, it would look good. ‘As for Jung Dajun’s cooking...’ It’d be fine. It’s not like it would kill anyone to eat it. Sorting through The Dawn’s upcoming activities in my head, I headed to the practice room. I planned to run through some basic dance drills alone before heading back to the dorm. Kang Ichae was in the studio working on music, Sung Jiwon was in vocal training, and Kim Sunghyun and Jung Dajun had gone to their family homes for the first time in a while, planning to return that evening. I hooked my phone up to the speaker and turned on some music. With the members absent and the room quiet, my mind filled with wandering thoughts. Like the warmth of Seo Hojin I’d felt in that unconscious space... I stopped dancing and turned the music off. [N O V E L I G H T] Then I sprawled out on the practice room floor, waving my hand once. It was something I often did when I was alone since the system window had disappeared. That familiar notification chime rang out. ‘Damn it, not a single one went up.’ More than the fact that the system window had reappeared, that’s what my eyes landed on first. Part of me wanted to lodge a complaint with a certain dance instructor whose surname started with “Joo,” but I had to admit it—when it came to dancing, I really had no talent. The others had at least made steady, if tiny, gains, but I’d not only taken forever to reach this point, I’d been stuck here for ages. I swept my long bangs up from my eyes. “How long are you planning on not saying anything?” The stat window didn’t react, just gave off its faint blue glow. This thing had too many secrets. Until now, I hadn’t thought I needed to know them all, and the system seemed to have limits anyway, so I’d let it slide. But messing with my memories was crossing the line. Here, the only things that made me me were Seo Hojin and my memories. If that was tampered with, my very foundation would shake. Not to mention, this was the same bastard that had deleted my last moments from the previous world—who knew what else it had done behind my back? At this point, Min Jiheon seemed more trustworthy. ‘Still, the item shop should be usable.’ Hundreds of times, I’d built and destroyed hypotheses for returning quickly while avoiding penalties, point loans, and overload. It was impossible with just talent and effort. It would take immense luck, perfectly timed. ‘Not that it’s completely hopeless.’ In any case, the fact remained: this life was my opportunity. They’d brought me back from the dead, and were even offering to send me back to where I came from if I played my cards right—of course I’d take that. I cut off the thought that always hit the same wall and sprang to my feet. Better to practice than obsess over unsolvable problems. Before turning my music back on, I opened my messaging app. Skipping past hundreds of unimportant messages, I went into The Dawn’s group chat and sent a text. [Me: Anyone up for medley practice?] A reply came almost immediately. [Jung Dajun: Did you maybe miss my earlier message suggesting kimchi jjigae for dinner??] [Jung Dajun: Hyung, didn’t you skip dinner?] [Kim Sunghyun: Should I grab sandwiches?] [Kang Ichae: I’m not big on sandwiches] ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ novｅlfire.net Well, what could I do if Kang Ichae didn’t like them? [Me: I’m fine with it] After all, I still had that backup file in my hand. About five minutes later, Kang Ichae posted a sandwich photo in the group chat. [Kang Ichae: (photo)] [Kang Ichae: Slave departing!!!] [Kim Sunghyun: Wow... first time seeing that from him...] [Jung Dajun: I pity you, Yang-aechae....] I didn’t really have an appetite, so my plan was to throw a fit when they brought it and tell him to eat it himself. Just as I was about to close my phone with satisfaction, a message came in from Seo Hojin. [Little brother: Hyung] [Little brother: I haven’t eaten yet—if you haven’t either, wanna eat together?] I suddenly remembered his midterms and added a line. [Me: If you bring your report card after finals] [Little brother: Hah, I’ll just eat alone] I could see exactly what face he was making right now. Chuckling, I transferred him some money via my banking app and nagged him to eat properly. Only after seeing his disgusted reaction did I put on some music. The first track in my playlist, always fixed in place, began to play. [Give me, Give me, Give me Second Chance Let’s say once again this is the start for us] My first debut song, Second Chance, which I’d heard hundreds, thousands of times. [I will come back everytime] [Give me, Give me, Give me Second Chance....] The lyrics etched themselves into my ears all over again. Smirking in disbelief, I rubbed my forehead. A sudden regression, an out-of-nowhere idol career, and a life full of unpredictable variables. “...Fitting enough for my debut song?” [Give you, Give you, Give you Second Chance....] It was my second chance, after all. Chuckling, I started practicing again. After several similar days had passed, I got the news—I’d be appearing on Perfect Singer. The day of the Perfect Singer shoot. “Hyung, do well out there!” “Want me to come too?” I shook off the whining members worried about me going alone and climbed into the van. Since I still tended to get tense in the car, I distracted myself by searching my name with the program’s title on SNS. [What’s Seo Hoyun filming today?? Sightings are popping up] The reactions poured in. [Kind of surprising... I mean, I think he’d do well, but for a singing program I thought Sung Jiwon would be a given] [But it’s better not to question the programs Seo Hoyun shows up in Remember when everyone opposed him acting? And it turned out insanely well?] [Ah, Cabo was amazing Though I was a bit iffy about him doing variety with Kang Yeonhoo, it ended up going great lol There was a truckload of people wanting to copy him then... Let’s stop reminiscing Thinking about it again is exhausting └lol lol lol same lololol] By the time I’d checked community boards and news portals, we’d arrived at the broadcasting station. Entering the set for filming, I put on my business smile and greeted every notable person I saw—when I spotted a familiar face. “Oh? You crazy bastard!” In this industry where popularity is power, even with lots of people around, she didn’t bother to hide her rough tone. “Wow, you’re still alive? I was gonna visit you in the hospital, but I happened to be overseas~ You got discharged faster than I thought.” “I was fine. Why overseas again?” “Eh, just... played around with Yoo Jia for a bit.” Figures—probably California again. For someone who’d gone to have fun, she looked worn out. She seemed reluctant to elaborate, changing the subject. “Well, anyway, smart bastard. This program’s practically made for you.” Given the format, I agreed. “And if you get first place, you keep appearing. How long are you planning to do it?” Watching her speak as if my winning was a given, I lifted the corner of my mouth. I might not have Sung Jiwon’s vocals or Kang Ichae’s star power, but— When it came to what I was good at, I knew my stuff. Finding my confident attitude annoying, Hyunsu flipped me the finger and left for her waiting room. After the brief exchange, I greeted the production crew and staff first with my road manager. Then I made the rounds in the guest waiting room. Most people gave me subtle looks. With other famous singers in the lineup, it seemed no one had high expectations for me vocally—more like I was here as a ratings shield. One guest even smirked openly. “Ah, you’re Seo Hoyun from The Dawn, right? I’ve enjoyed your variety work. Thought you were a panelist—turns out you’re competing. I’ll look forward to it.” =You sure about this, punk? Verbal sparring was one of my specialties. I smiled even wider and headed back to my assigned waiting room. The look on his face when I didn’t react as expected was priceless. “Oh!! Seo Hoyun-ssi!” After getting a briefing on the mission and checking my outfit one last time, I was putting on my in-ear monitors behind the set when someone approached. “Here, Seo Hoyun-ssi, let me remind you once more.” It was PD Lee Yuji—who’d been under me back in my producing days. I’d already noticed her name in the crew list I’d been given beforehand. Back then, she’d been the youngest, always getting pranked by seniors on April Fool’s Day or other occasions. ‘She’s gotten sharper.’ The last time I’d seen her, she’d been dozing off in a corner of a music show set. Now she’d grown enough to be working as an assistant director on a program . “There’ll be a mission partway through. Don’t be surprised—stay calm, complete the mission, and finish your song.” Even after saying her piece, Yuji didn’t leave. With the slight droop of her eyes, it was obvious she had something on her mind. ‘Written all over your face.’ I’d once thought about telling her to fix that if she wanted to keep being a PD, but hadn’t. Maybe I should have. Also—don’t be too nice. She was probably worried that a singer with no big vocal reputation, just some recognition as an idol, might end up as the program’s sacrificial lamb. “Seo Hoyun-ssi, we’re... a bit shameless. Last season didn’t go well, and this time we’re determined to make it a success, no matter what it takes.” “If you ever feel uneasy, you can just keep quiet. Then I’ll edit it so you don’t look bad.” From a distance, a staffer called for standby. I rolled my eyes, then grinned at the nervously firm-spoken PD. She really had grown a lot. That she could throw a line like that at me. “Without guts, I’m a corpse.” Which made me think—I might as well show her something interesting.