The Way to Save the Crazy Returnees Chapter 23 - King (1)

 

We arrived at Victory’s dorm not long after.

 

“Boss, how’d you even find out where they live?”

 

“There’s always a way.”

 

If you regress 365 times, you pick up things—like the location of a failed idol group’s dorm.

 

“Let’s go.”

 

Victory’s dorm was on the 7th floor, the very top.

 

No elevator. We made our way up. By the time we reached the top floor, loud noises echoed from the hallway.

 

Unit 707.

 

Victory’s dorm.

 

Knock, knock. 

 

I knocked softly on the door.

 

Clearly, people were inside. But no one answered, and the door remained closed.

 

“I know you’re in there. Open up while I’m asking nicely.”

 

For a moment, silence. Then the noise inside picked up again.

 

“Step aside, boss. I’ll break it down,” Seo Do-hwan said, crunching a piece of candy I hadn’t even noticed he was eating.

 

“Can we really do that?” Lee Yoo-seong asked, nervous. “What if they report us for breaking and entering?”

 

“We’ll settle it with money.”

 

No one hates money. Especially when it’s a staggering amount. And the one making a scene inside? He loved money more than anyone.

 

“…Alright.”

 

At my words, Lee Yoo-seong gave a small nod.

 

Bang!

 

He kicked the door open.

 

“…Damn.”

 

Seo Do-hwan whistled at the sight of the door crumpled like paper. Even I pursed my lips, impressed by Lee Yoo-seong’s strength after all this time. But the moment didn’t last—we froze at the horrific scene inside.

 

“What the hell?!”

 

The manager, face flushed from drink, was clutching Shin Yoo-soo by the collar. Behind him, I spotted Lee Nak-hwa and Kang Ye-seong.

 

Both unconscious.

 

Lee Nak-hwa merely seemed to have fainted, but Kang Ye-seong… that was bad. Blood streamed from his head, though I couldn’t tell if it was from a blow or a fall.

 

Cheong-ryang and Haneul were each holding onto the unconscious pair, glaring daggers at the manager.

 

Now, their shocked eyes turned to us. The manager too.

 

“Hey, you bastards! Can’t you hear me?! Who the hell are you?!”

 

I sighed lightly.

 

“I’m the one who handed you money earlier. Already forgotten?”

 

“What?”

 

The manager frowned, then sneered.

 

“Oh, that goody-two-shoes?”

 

Goody-two-shoes? What a choice of words.

 

Clicking my tongue, I watched him wave his hand dismissively.

 

“Get lost. If you want to interfere, cough up more cash like before.”

 

“Really? Fine.”

 

If he asked for it, I’d give it.

 

I pulled a wad of bills from my wallet and hurled it at his face.

 

Slap!

 

The sound was sharp, like a perfect slap.

 

The manager, struck head-on, froze in disbelief before his face twisted with rage.

 

“You little bastard!”

 

He shoved Shin Yoo-soo aside and lunged at me.

 

Of course, he didn’t get far.

 

“The hell? Move, damn it! You thug!”

 

“Who the hell are you calling a thug?” Seo Do-hwan snarled, a wicked grin on his face.

 

Then he kicked the manager hard.

 

Crash! Thud!

 

The man tumbled across the floor with a clatter.

 

“Ghh—ack! Urgh!”

 

His pained screams rang out.

 

Seo Do-hwan, who had knocked him down effortlessly, looked back at me casually.

 

“You good?”

 

“As you can see.”

 

The guy hadn’t touched me. Of course I was fine.

 

Meanwhile, the manager scrambled up, his face twisted.

 

“You bastard…!”

 

Crack!

 

The sharp crack of something breaking cut through the air, and the manager fell silent. His eyes widened in shock—for good reason. The slender Lee Yoo-seong had just folded the crumpled door into a perfect circle, as if it were paper.

 

The manager rubbed his eyes, as if doubting reality. Victory’s members looked just as stunned.

 

“…Cheong-ryang hyung, Haneul hyung… did I just see that guy fold a door?!”

 

“Y-yeah. I saw it too.”

 

“Your eyes aren’t lying, Yoo-soo.”

 

Cheong-ryang and Haneul patted Shin Yoo-soo’s shoulder, trying to calm him.

 

“Yoo-seong, we’ll handle things here. Can you move them first?”

 

“Load them in the car?”

 

“Yeah. Please.”

 

“Got it, Yoon-hoo hyung.”

 

Lee Yoo-seong tossed the rolled-up door aside and walked toward Cheong-ryang and Haneul—or more precisely, toward Lee Nak-hwa and Kang Ye-seong.

 

Cheong-ryang and Haneul froze, unable even to think of stopping him.

 

“Hey! Who said you could touch them?!”

 

Snapping out of his daze, Kim Chul-man lunged forward, reaching for Lee Yoo-seong—

 

“Mr. Kim Chul-man.”

T/N: At first, I thought Kim Chul-man was the guard from the T.U. club since they share the same name. But he isn’t.

 

I stepped forward.

 

“Bet it was fun riding your cousin’s coattails, huh?”

 

Yes, Kim Chul-man was none other than the cousin of Kim Sang-cheol, CEO of King.

 

“Pass a message to Kim Sang-cheol for me. If he has something to say, he can contact me directly.”

 

“Who do you think you are…!”

 

Crack!

 

The sharp sound of something breaking cut him off. Seo Do-hwan was stomping on the door-ball Lee Yoo-seong had made, flattening it into a thin plank.

 

I pressed my card into Kim Chul-man’s trembling hand as he swallowed nervously.

 

“Nggh!”

 

He clenched his fist in frustration, his face twisted with fury. I smiled at the pitiful sight.

 

“You’d better keep that hand to yourself. See him?”

 

Seo Do-hwan was tearing the flattened metal sheet apart like paper.

 

“He’s got a nasty temper. You saw what happened when you crossed him earlier—try again, and you might not walk away in one piece.”

 

Kim Chul-man swallowed hard.

 

While I kept him in check, Victory’s members had already slipped out of the dorm.

 

Now it was our turn to leave.

 

“Let’s move, Seo Do-hwan.”

 

“What about him?”

 

“Leave him.”

 

That way, his cousin would have no choice but to call me.

 

Seo Do-hwan clicked his tongue in disappointment and followed as I turned to go.

 

Outside, we found Victory’s members waiting awkwardly in front of the red sports car—Cheong-ryang, Haneul, and Shin Yoo-soo. The two unconscious members were already slumped in the back seat.

 

“Boss. We can’t fit all of them in.”

 

“I know.”

 

Before coming here, I had already called Driver Koo.

 

Right on cue, the driver arrived.

 

“Please take them to AMA Seoul Hospital.”

 

“Understood, young master.”

 

After giving him instructions, I addressed Victory’s members.

 

“Get in.”

 

“Uh… well, um…”

 

Haneul shot me a wary look. I offered him a reassuring smile.

 

“Don’t worry about Kang Ye-seong or Lee Nak-hwa. We’ll take full responsibility for their treatment. As for your company’s CEO—he won’t need to worry either.”

 

Their manager, of course, wasn’t worth mentioning.

 

Haneul hesitated, still suspicious, but eventually nodded. He knew Kang Ye-seong’s condition was too serious to waste time doubting me.

 

And so, the remaining members got into the car Driver Koo had brought.

 

“Seo Do-hwan, let’s go too. Yoo-seong, you ride with them.”

 

“Okay.”

 

He could’ve complained, but Lee Yoo-seong followed my words without fuss.

 

“That kid is so kind.”

 

“Is this really the time for that? Get in already—we need to head to the hospital. AMA Seoul Hospital, right?” Seo Do-hwan said.

 

“Yeah. I’ll leave it to you.”

 

“Got it.”

 

The red sports car sped off toward AMA Seoul Hospital.

 

***

 

“Ugh…”

 

Kang Ye-seong groaned as his eyes fluttered open.

 

“Ye-seong hyung! Hyung!!”

 

Someone had been calling to him loudly for some time. Because of that voice, he couldn’t help but wake.

 

But the moment he did, confusion struck.

 

“…Cheon-ha?”

 

In front of him was someone who shouldn’t exist—someone staring at him with worried eyes.

 

Ji Cheon-ha, the sub-vocal of the group NIKE.

 

It was unmistakably him.

 

“Is it really… you…?”

 

Kang Ye-seong asked in a trembling voice. Unlike him, Ji Cheon-ha only smiled brightly and answered,

 

“Yeah! Why are you acting so weird all of a sudden?”

 

“Well, it’s just…”

 

Mouth half-open and dazed, Kang Ye-seong’s face slowly crumpled with sorrow as he spoke.

 

“I had a dream.”

 

“What kind of dream?”

 

Ji Cheon-ha tilted his head in curiosity. Kang Ye-seong wanted to spill everything—to tell the pure youngest member about the awful nightmare he’d had, to cry, to cling, to whine like a child.

 

But then—

 

[Mission: Do not reveal the dream you had.]

[Warning: The moment you speak of it, everything becomes a lie.]

 

The sudden reappearance of a status window he thought he’d never see again made him shut his mouth.

 

“Ye-seong hyung?”

 

“No, it’s nothing.”

 

Kang Ye-seong shook his head with a faint smile. Ji Cheon-ha gave him a puzzled look, but he only kept smiling—one step away from breaking into tears.

 

Even if what he was seeing right now was only a dream, he didn’t care. As long as it never ended, that was enough.

 

But soon, doubt crept in. Was this really just a dream?

 

“Cheon-ha! Stop bothering Ye-seong hyung and get over here! Our duet’s coming up!”

 

“I know, I know!”

 

Because of Ji Cheon-ha, he heard another voice he had longed for.

 

It was Lee Jae-il, the sub-dancer the same age as Cheon-ha, dragging him away. Kang Ye-seong’s eyes trembled as he watched the two disappear.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

An arm slung over his shoulder. Another voice followed—one he had missed dearly.

 

A friend who had always steadied him when the world felt unbearably unfamiliar.

 

“…Muse.”

 

Tears spilled down his cheeks.

 

“Kang Ye-seong? Hey! Why are you crying all of a sudden?!”

 

“What, Ye-seong’s crying?”

 

“Muse! Did you make him cry? I knew you would!”

 

“No, hyungs! It’s not like that!”

 

Right. Kang Ye-seong wasn’t the eldest here. He wasn’t the youngest either, but he was still in a place where he could pout, act spoiled, and show affection without shame.

 

“Hey! The hyungs will get the wrong idea! Stop crying already!”

 

“That’s right, Ye-seong. Whatever Muse said, just let it go in one ear and out the other. You know how much of a prankster he is.”

 

“Yeah, stop crying. If you keep this up, fans will talk. You cried so much at the last concert your eyes were puffed up on stage!”

 

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

 

“Then people will ask why you didn’t cry on the first and second days!”

 

“Oh, true.”

 

Hearing his hyungs tease him after so long, Kang Ye-seong burst out laughing through his tears.

 

“Hey, Kang Ye-seong. If you cry and then laugh, you’ll grow hair on your butt.”

T/N: A common Korean teasing phrase said to someone who suddenly shifts from crying to laughing. It doesn’t have a literal meaning—just playful banter.

 

“Don’t talk dirty.”

 

“Fine.”

 

Muse pouted.

 

“The maknaes are back! Everyone, get ready to head up!”

 

“Wait—let’s do our chant one last time before we go!”

 

The youngest members, fresh off their duet stage, returned. Kang Ye-seong reached out his hand along with Muse. The maknaes placed theirs on top, followed by the older members stacking theirs above.

 

Together, the six of them shouted as one.

 

“We Get Victory!”

 

Kang Ye-seong remembered this moment perfectly.

 

Their very first concert as NIKE.

 

A milestone—three consecutive days of sold-out seats.

 

That moment.

 

What he thought was lost to the past was unfolding vividly before his eyes again.

 

‘Was it all just a dream?’

 

Had his life as a failed idol been a lie instead?

 

As Kang Ye-seong wondered, about to step onto the stage—

 

[Mission: Recognize that what you are seeing is the ‘past.’]

[Warning: Wake up. If you don’t, your family will die.]

 

The system window reappeared before his eyes.

 

He froze mid-step.

 

“Ye-seong?”

 

“Hey, Kang Ye-seong. What are you doing? We need to go up.”

 

“Ye-seong hyung, what’s wrong?”

 

The members were calling him. Those who were like family to him.

 

“Come on, Kang Ye-seong. What’s the holdup? Don’t you want to go see Victory?”

 

They urged him on, calling out the name of his other family.

 

Kang Ye-seong’s face twisted.

 

At this moment, there was only one path he could take.