"Unfortunately," Hyouka continued, her voice careful now, weighed down with guilt, "Kang Seo-yul's sadistic tendencies didn't stop with August."
The room stiffened.
"Ahn Jae…"
Ahn's head snapped up instantly.
He didn't need the rest of the sentence.
The dread had already settled deep in his bones.
"Kang Seo-yul," Hyouka said gently, choosing each word like it might shatter someone, "targeted you for no reason other than… he didn't like your 'vibe.' He said you smelled poor."
A sharp intake of breath rippled through the room.
"He found you entertaining," she continued. "So he built a narrative around you. Made sure you always ranked last—even when you clearly shouldn't have. You were allowed to advance, but never to feel safe."
Hyouka's hands clenched at her sides.
"He enjoyed watching you flinch every time your name was called. And he wanted you to make it all the way to the finale… just to watch you stand there while the debut team celebrated."
Silence.
Heavy. Suffocating.
Ahn Jae exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his face as if weighing something invisible.
"Honestly," he said at last, voice calm, almost detached, "I don't really care anymore."
Every head in the room turned toward him.
"You probably think I should be angry," Ahn Jae went on, meeting their gazes one by one. "And maybe that's the normal reaction."
He let out a quiet, tired laugh.
"But after everything I went through… after being this close to quitting performing altogether?" He gestured vaguely, like the memory was still too sharp to point at. "I'm just… glad I'm still here."
His voice softened.
"I get to do what I love. With people who respect me. Under conditions I never thought I'd have."
He smiled—not bright, not forced. Just real.
"So yeah. In hindsight, all that led me here."
A pause.
"Good riddance," he added dryly. "I think that's what you say here in the U.S."
Foca watched him for a long moment, then nodded.
"That's… an incredibly mature way to look at it," he said. "I'm glad."
****
"He better than me, for real," Mika muttered. "If that were me, I'd have started blasting and asked questions later."
A few snorts and low laughs rippled through the room.
Ahn Jae's response—quiet, grounded, painfully composed—had given everyone just enough space to breathe again.
Hyouka nodded once, then continued.
"And lastly… Kang Ian and Silas."
Both of them straightened, jaws tight, eyes sharp—two men barely holding themselves back from committing murder via eye contact.
"It hurts me to say this," Hyouka said honestly, "but because both of your former companies had ties to Hwarang Motors, one trainee from Big Hype was always meant to debut."
She turned to Kang Ian.
"You were originally on that list. But the moment you pissed Kang Seo-yul off, you were cut. That's why your ranking suddenly dropped from third to ninth—and another Big Hype trainee took your spot. No questions asked."
Kang Ian scoffed, crossing his arms.
"And Silas," Hyouka continued, "you were… filler. The production team kept you because you were talented and useful—for drama, for ratings. But only until the finale."
Silas let out a slow breath.
"You know what," Kang Ian said finally, lips curling. "Ahn Jae-hyung's right. Good fucking riddance. I'm glad I didn't debut with that asshole."
"I feel the same," Silas added, calmer now. "Dodged a bullet."
"Y'all didn't dodge bullets," Tuesday said. "You dodged the whole damn Matrix."
"I like that movie," August said softly, hiccupping as he wiped his nose.
"You have exquisite taste, my dear August," Hyouka replied instantly—suddenly slipping into a full-on Bridgerton accent.
The room blinked.
Then laughed.
It was honestly impressive how effortlessly she could flip the switch and lift the mood.
"Anyhow," Hyouka cleared her throat, back to business, "after E:Den debuted, they started sweeping awards."
She shrugged. "Their debut song was unfortunately a bop. I'll give them that. But every single award—including Rookie of the Year—was rigged from the start."
Groans echoed.
"It was the networks currying favor with Hwarang Motors," Hyouka continued. "Which worked exactly as intended."
"And that brings us to our final topic."
She clicked the remote.
"The Platinum Disc Awards are coming up soon. And according to our investigation… E:Den has already been confirmed to win Rookie of the Year again."
"The award show hasn't even happened yet!" Aqua screeched.
"Girl," Pink sighed, shaking his head, "that's rich people mentality."
Then he turned to Foca immediately. "But of course, our very own Sir Foca-bells is the exception."
The room exploded into laughter.
What had started as a tense, suffocating meeting had devolved into collective nepo-baby slander hour.
"Oh," Hyouka added casually, like she wasn't about to drop a bomb.
"The same award show has invited LEAVEN to perform."
Silence.
Every head snapped up.
****
"Please," Bobby groaned, rubbing his face. "Don't tell me this is an elaborate setup by that nepo baby to sabotage us so E:Den looks better."
Hyouka winced sympathetically.
"Bobby, you might be psychic," she said. "Because that's exactly what the investigation says."
Bobby let out a long, suffering groan.
"Well—at least that was the original plan," Hyouka continued, straightening. "Unfortunately for them, they barked up the wrong tree."
She smiled, proud and sharp.
"And by tree, I mean Sir Foca's very own Bread Music."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the room.
"So whether you decide to perform or not," Hyouka said, sweeping her gaze across everyone, "you won't have to worry about a thing. Because—" she gestured dramatically toward Foca, "—in Sir Foca we trust. Agreed?"
"Agreed!" everyone chorused.
Foca, Luca, and Tuesday burst out laughing.
"Dude," Luca said, pointing at Foca, "you're this close to starting a cult."
"Oh my Lord, I hope not," Foca replied immediately, shaking his head. "Please don't."
Unfortunately for him… that ship had already begun sailing.
But that was a story for another day.
"I'd like to suggest we accept the offer," Luca said, shifting into work mode. "I'll make sure you're the opening act. You make your statement, perform, and since you won't be receiving any awards, you can leave right after and enjoy the rest of your stay in Seoul."
Ryu hesitated. "But won't leaving early give the audience a bad impression?"
"Don't sweat the small stuff," Luca replied smoothly, punctuating it with finger guns and a wink. "We'll handle it."
"I say we take the offer," Yone said, standing up. His voice was steady, resolved. "We show them who we are—on our terms. Not as rumors. Not as a storyline. But as LEAVEN."
"Spoken like a true leader," Foca said warmly.
"Yeah," Kang Ian added, cracking his neck. "Let our performance do the talking. I've got a score to settle."
"Yay!" August cheered, suddenly bright again after finishing the extra-thick strawberry milk Hyouka had quietly prepared for him. "We get to perform at the Platinum Disc Awards!"
Hyouka smiled to herself. She'd known he'd need it.
"Alright then," she said, clasping her hands together solemnly. "All in favor of performing—raise thy hands."
Every single hand shot up.
Not just in excitement.
But in defiance.
Because Bread Music didn't back down.
And LEAVEN was done being quiet.