IKC C9

Chapter 9

I wanted to avoid a lawsuit at all costs. But since the Deputy Director had already thrown out the worst-case scenario, I had no choice but to brace myself against the wall and stand my ground.

“Taegyeong!”

Geonwoo-hyung’s voice broke, full of disbelief, unable to continue.

“Taegyeong…! How could you…”

Watching his face twist as though he were about to collapse, I steadied my heart.

“I know lawsuits take years. I also know I may have to pay damages. If I calculate the investment, it’s about twenty million won per month—”

“Lee Taegyeong!”

Geonwoo shot up from his seat, shouting loud enough to shake the meeting room walls.

“How could you do this! I thought of you as my brother!”

“Hyung, I’m sorry, but this issue—”

I started to explain, determined to finish—until I froze. Tears spilled down his face.

“H-hyung…”

“Taegyeong, was that all I meant to you…? Was I nothing more? I truly thought of you as a younger brother… sob…!”

He broke into loud sobs. The words I’d prepared, my hardened resolve—all dissolved instantly into ash.

“Hy-hyung…!”

“I’ve never even imagined… a team without you, Taegyeong… never once…!”

He bit his lip, choking back more cries. I couldn’t bring myself to speak.

I’d known him for over three years, but never once seen him like this. Outwardly stubborn and nitpicking, but fragile and soft-hearted inside—it was always there, but I had never seen him laid bare like this.

Ding-dong!

The sharp chime of the status window sliced through the fog of emotions.

[How to Prevent the Death of Genius Idol Seong Sehan.]

[Ah, ah! Mike test—Attention, please!]

All sound dropped away, every thought funneled into the floating system.

[Penalty from failing the recent Event has now been applied!]

I felt my body sink, collapsing like into a black pit.

[Please look forward to a wider variety of Events in the future!]

I clawed onto the edge of the table just to keep myself from toppling over.

“What is happening here? Geonwoo, sit down.”

I faintly heard Team Leader Jang’s words.

“You too, Taegyeong. Sit. Don’t let emotions lead. Talk properly. For now—”

The moment I regained enough strength in my legs, I bolted.

“Wait—Taegyeong…!”

Slamming out of the meeting room, I dashed for the elevator. Bad timing—the two cars were both on their way down to the basement.

I spun and ran for the emergency stairs, fumbling in my padded jacket for my phone. I dialed his speed number.

Beep—Beep—Beep—

The endless unanswered ringing drowned me.

“Why the hell aren’t you picking up?!”

Shoving the phone back into my pocket, I tore down four flights of stairs, breath a chaotic mess. Reaching the ground, my pocket buzzed violently. I clutched the handrail, answering in a rush.

“Sehan!”

―Hyung! It’s me, Jeongmin…

My knees buckled, clinging hard to the railing.

“Haa… oh—Maknae.³ I’m busy right now—”

―Hyung, did you see the article? Sehan-hyung was in an accident during a shoot—he was rushed to the hospital. They didn’t say how bad it was…

I squeezed my eyes shut, then snapped them open wide. The world swam.

“Which hospital.”

―Wh… what?

“Which hospital, Jeongmin!”

―They didn’t say in the report… Hold on. I’ll scan the forums… I’ll get back to you.

“…Please.”

Exiting the company building, I slowed along the road. I couldn’t bring myself to check the news. Better to wait for Jeongmin’s call.

“Fucking piece of shit system…”

“You dare call it a fucking ‘event’? You punish him for my failure?! It should fall on me, goddammit!”

A passing student flinched at my outburst, shooting me a glance. Embarrassed, I ducked my head, grit teeth tight.

Because of my own weak, emotional outburst… Seong Sehan had been hurt.

I swore I wouldn’t ever let him die again. And yet—because of petty, pathetic emotions…

My phone rang. I picked up instantly.

―Hyung, piecing info together, it looks like he’s at Gangseong Hospital. I also saw eyewitness claims there.

I hailed a taxi, eyes shut, bowing my head like a prayer.

If anything had happened to Sehan—screw the system, screw the status window—I’d tear it all down myself.

So please. Please, let him be safe. I’ll obey. I swear. Just help him.

And as though my plea resonated—the name I waited for lit my phone screen.

“Sehan…!”

―Lee Taegyeong, why do you sound like that? Did you see the article and worry?

Even with his steady voice, relief didn’t wash me.

“Seong Sehan—are you okay?”

―‘Okay’? No. Ow, ow, I’m dying of pain.

He tried joking, but I couldn’t laugh at all.

“Sehan. I need to see you. Where should I go?”

―Huh? You’re coming here?

A thought slipped through—would they even let someone like me into his room?

“…Would it be a problem if I came?”

There was silence, then a short laugh.

―Wow. If you want to come… then of course you come.

I stopped the taxi a little away from the hospital.

Texting that I’d arrived, I walked forward. As expected, the hospital area was surrounded by clusters of fans. None of them looked directly at the entrance, pretending indifference—but anyone could tell why they were there.

They must’ve rushed here in worry. And they didn’t even want to be a nuisance. My chest strangely warmed.

“Why… does this feel kind of cute?”

“Lee Taegyeong-ssi.”

The assistant manager—waiting by the entrance—motioned hurriedly. I bowed.

“Hello.”

“Follow me.”

The same disapproving eyes he’d given me yesterday flashed again today. Photos clicked everywhere around us before we’d even entered the lobby. The “ordinary” bystanders were all press reporters.

“Let’s move quickly. Sehan’s woozy from the meds.”

“…Meds? What meds?”

He gave no answer, only ushered me into the elevator, silent all the way to the fifth floor. I bit my tongue and trailed behind meekly.

We swiped into a one-person VIP ward through its double security doors. Before stepping inside, the manager glanced back.

“He’s asleep. Keep quiet.”

Nodding, I entered, scanning the wide room. A sofa set in the center, the bed by the left window. There he was—Seong Sehan, lying still.

Rushing to his side, I nearly missed the man seated beside the bed, head bowed slightly.

“…Hello.”

The leader of Perfect Puzzle himself raised his head, bowing politely to me even though he was three years my senior. I rushed to bend deep in return.

“I—I’m Lee Taegyeong. It’s an honor—”

The word “sunbaenim”⁴ nearly slipped, but I swallowed it. I wasn’t even debuted yet. What right did I have to call him that?

“Sehan just fell asleep a little while ago.”

Even before he spoke, I had been locked onto Sehan’s face. Pale, far too pale.

“He was fighting to stay awake until you came. But he lost the battle.”

“…The roads had traffic…”

My words trailed as I stared at Sehan’s hollow pallor, my breath vanishing. A tight bandage wrapped his left arm.

“This here—split wide open. Seven stitches. The doctor said it could scar.”

I swallowed a groan, throat choking. My insides twisted with pain.

“If it scars, we’ll just have it erased.”

The assistant manager muttered flatly, shoving a chair over.

“Sit.”

“Th… thank you.”

I should’ve been quicker to act deferential. But my mind was fog.

The door burst open. Someone barged in.

“What happened? Is Sehan okay?”

“Robin-hyung, you’re here?”

Pale-faced, gasping for breath—it was genius producer Kang Robin.

Robin, the legendary rapper-producer who rose as a teenage prodigy and, at thirty-seven, was still writing annual hit tracks—an undisputed figure, a living legend. He was also the very man who’d scouted Seong Sehan to “Baeknyeon Entertainment” and placed him in Perfect Puzzle.

“What the hell is this? How bad is it?”

“They stitched it. Seven stitches.”

“What? Seven?!”

Staggered, Kang Robin yanked Sehan’s blanket aside to check the injury himself. Instinctively, I stepped back, retreating from the fierce intensity.

“How on earth did this happen?”