Chapter 44
“Whoa!!!”
The members cheered at the five-year-old’s perfect, easy-to-understand explanation.
Among them, Cha Eungyeol, who couldn’t bring himself to laugh, quietly raised his hand.
“…What about our identity? The producers said we needed a clear identity.”
“You heard it, right? Ppong-feel.”
“Ppong… feel?”
“That unique han—the sorrow, the yearning. And the kkeokgi and vibrato. As long as we capture those emotions, we’ll be fine. The sound can change however we want.”
“But… can we really pull it off?”
Baek Doha asked uncertainly.
He knew what han and kkeokgi and vibrato were.
But could they actually imitate that feeling?
Could they embody that emotion in barely a week?
Wouldn’t they just end up ruining the stage in an awkward attempt?
“Do you know what’s fun about trot?”
Ruha smiled faintly, as if he’d already anticipated that question.
“When a trot singer sings it, any song can become trot.”
“Oh! Ruhaaa!”
Kang Ian cried out excitedly and hugged him—only to push him away a moment later.
“But… we’re not trot singers.”
“That’s why we get one. A special guest!”
Ruha’s left lip curled upward in a sly grin.
* * *
“Ah, no way!”
“Ugh, my ears—!”
Ruha winced and covered his ears.
“What do you mean, get a guest out of nowhere?”
Yoon Taejin looked flustered.
‘Seriously? Then what’s the company for?’
“I’m telling you because it’s urgent, hyung. If I had time, I’d have found one myself.”
“That’s not as easy as it sounds…”
Taejin’s shoulders drooped.
‘Wait a minute… don’t tell me—’
Ruha’s eyes narrowed.
“This is about money, isn’t it?”
“…”
Silence was the only answer.
Of course, the upcoming performance mattered—but so did the comeback album right around the corner. It was true that spending more now would strain their already tight budget.
“Ha!”
Ruha gave a hollow laugh.
“Hyung, if we don’t at least try, how are we supposed to make it to the next round?”
“The next round…”
Taejin trailed off.
“There’s no guarantee you’ll even make it…”
“What? So you think we’re going to lose?”
“…”
Taejin’s gaze toward the window said it all.
Hip-hop, EDM, rock, R&B—and then trot. Out of all the genres, they had to draw trot.
Maybe that’d fly on a variety show, but in a survival program where skill decided everything? Idols singing trot? The result was obvious.
“And you know, right? How hard it is to book a trot singer these days.”
He wasn’t wrong.
Two other channels were already airing trot competitions. From rookies to veterans, contestants and judges alike were all tied up.
“The whole country’s in a trot craze.”
Taejin pressed his temples.
“Weekends, weekdays—it’s all booked solid with events and festivals. Even getting time off is hard. And for a program barely pulling 1–2% viewership? Forget it.”
He waved his hand with a heavy sigh.
He didn’t finish the sentence, but Ruha understood perfectly.
‘In other words—no reason for a popular trot singer to share the stage with a flop idol group like us.’
Bang!
Ruha slammed his small fist on the desk.
“Even so! You’re the CEO! How can you say that?!”
“I’m just being realistic—”
“Ugh, whatever!”
Ruha shot up from his seat.
“Forget it! I’ll handle it myself!”
Bang!
The door slammed shut behind him. Yoon Taejin, left alone in the office, let out a long sigh.
Tap, tap—
Ruha’s irritated footsteps echoed down the hallway.
‘He said we were his boys, right? Then act like it!’
He’d promised to do anything for them. Yet when they actually needed him, he just folded his arms and watched.
Pathetic. Truly pathetic.
“Hahaha! Is that what happened?”
Then suddenly—an unsettling laugh echoed from down the hall.
“…?”
It was Director Im Jaehun.
“Yes, Director! I’ll work really hard!”
A young voice—probably a trainee.
“Good, good~ Work hard, and let’s grab another meal next time.”
“Thank you so much!”
‘Seriously? He’s got time for that?’
Ruha frowned.
An incompetent CEO and now a slacking director.
‘Ugh, whatever. I’ll just go home and practice Do-Re-Mi—’
He stopped mid-thought.
‘Wait a second.’
Something felt off.
He peeked around the corner.
The distance between Im Jaehun and the trainee was too close.
And then—
‘What the hell is that hand?’
Im’s hand, which had been resting innocently on the trainee’s shoulder, slowly slid down to wrap around her waist.
‘That son of a…’
Ruha’s eyes went cold.
He could see the trainee’s face clearly now—her lips were curved in a polite smile, but her eyes screamed discomfort and fear. Powerlessness. The look of someone too scared to refuse.
‘Wow. What a fine company this is.’
Forget the guest singer. Forget Do-Re-Mi.
This bastard needed to be dealt with. Fast.
* * *
—Are you insane!?
Park Miso’s shrill voice nearly blew out Ruha’s phone speaker.
Ruha lazily picked at his ear with one tiny finger and held the phone farther away.
“Crazy? Is that any way to talk to an adult?”
—Is now really the time for formalities!?
“Of course. We live in the Land of Etiquette, after all.”
His cheeky tone only made Miso angrier.
—You little—!
“Anyway, can’t you dig up something? I’m telling you, there’s definitely something fishy about Im Jaehun.”
—If your nose is that sharp, go see an ENT doctor! And just because someone takes pictures doesn’t make them a journalist! I’m not a detective! How am I supposed to find that kind of stuff!?
“In movies, they take pictures from across buildings, right? Through umbrellas, through newspapers with holes—”
—Ugh, seriously, you five-year-old gremlin, that’s called illegal!
“For real?”
Disappointment laced Ruha’s voice.
—Why don’t you just hire a private investigator then? Or better yet, plant a spy!
“…A spy.”
Ruha’s eyebrows twitched.
—Wait. Why did you go quiet? You’re not actually serious, are you?
“Park Miso. You’re smarter than I thought.”
—You’ve lost your mind!!
“Anyway, your photos were great, by the way.”
—W-What photos?
Miso feigned ignorance, but her Tweex feed said otherwise.
She’d shown up unannounced at the RE:DEFINE 3rd performance. She hadn’t made it into the audience jury because of her “trash luck,” but she’d still managed to score something even better—a photo set from the boys’ post-show exit.
Thanks to her steady updates, likes, comments, and retweexes had all skyrocketed.
Which meant public interest in LUMIS had risen too.
To prove that, a new post had appeared on the fan community board.
[Title] ♥Ruby♥ RE:VIVAL 2nd Round Position Battle (Ep. 3 Rap Part) Analysis
[Post]
Hey guys, I’m Ruby, a new fan!
I got lucky and went to the 3rd stage evaluation—THE BOYS WERE GORGEOUS.
My mouth is itching to spill spoilers but… I’ll hold back so no one flames them.
(But btw, ㅂㅅㅇ’s feedback? Chef’s kiss. Total masterpiece.)
My bias is Ian, so this is an interpretation of the rap part only.
Just my personal take as a fan—might not match LUMIS’s actual intentions.
Rap lyrics by: Kang Ian
Piano/composition by: Ha Jinwoo
I had no idea our maknae Jinwoo had this kind of talent! Honestly, I was shook!
Jinwoo’s at the piano in a school uniform, Ian’s in a hoodie at the front of the stage.
He’s usually such a puppy when he smiles, but that dark vibe? Perfection! Okay okay, fangirling over.
Jinwoo’s uniform = youth before adulthood, full of dreams and hope.
Ian’s hoodie = adulthood, facing harsh reality and confusion.
Title: “Compass”
A tool that points direction—but useless if you don’t know where you’re going.
I know, I’ve lost my way
Somewhere along the line
Drawing new maps through my veins
My pulse sets the rhythm of my steps
The compass needle and heartbeat together aim at his heart = following one’s own path, guided by instinct, not others.
Now I’m adrift
The map’s torn and crumpled
They said, just follow north
But I’m still trapped in S
“South” = the opposite of north.
Not sure, but Ian once said in a live that he’s MBTI “S” and too realistic—bad at taking risks.
So he’s criticizing himself for being trapped in “reality,” afraid to challenge new things.
(Disagree if you want, that’s just my read lol.)
At night, dreams and sleep intertwine
My compass trembles beneath the blanket’s fold
Night = dreams = ideals, but they shake when colliding with reality.
Alternatively, it means those late-night thoughts, questioning one’s direction in life.
A bright voice unfolds a map
The shortest, safest route
= Navigation apps, representing the “safe and efficient life” society encourages.
If that blind obedience is the right path
I’ll keep drifting endlessly
Here Ian shows his resolve—to keep challenging himself!
The moment “S” turns into “N”!
Even if the path is uncertain, he’ll keep sailing forward.
“I’m still on my way”—the journey matters more than the destination.
I legit cried like five times writing this T_T
Stage details:
The scattered trash wasn’t random!
Books = teenage education and duty.
Snack wrappers = binge eating from stress?
A4 papers = labeled “resume” → attempts to compromise with reality.
Crumpled resumes = rejecting societal “reality,” choosing dreams instead.
Summary:
A portrait of youth caught between dreams and reality, ideals and disillusionment.
Also, a rediscovery of Jinwoo’s composing talent and Ian’s killer lyrics—PERFECT synergy.
(Ian’s wordplay with “end” and “and”? Genius. Pronunciation on point too!!)
└ Ooh! That makes sense!
└ I missed that part, thanks!!
└ Honestly, no idol writes lyrics this good these days.
└└ Agreed T_T
└ “Preset path” line—society’s fixed formula of school → job → marriage → kids. Brutally accurate.
“Dreams are about how you interpret them, huh…”
Ruha closed the phone with a soft click.
He hadn’t been fully satisfied with that stage—but if the fans loved it… well, that was enough.
A faint, satisfied smile curved his lips.
