Grab the Regressor by the Collar and Debut!

Chapter 305. Phantom Pain (4)

A journalist working for Media A was just an ordinary person.

There was a time when the weight of the title “journalist” made her heart race, but by the time the ink on the word “reporter” on her business card had dried and faded, she had become just another “office worker.”

Someone driven by performance and thirsty for viewership.

A reporter often derided as a “giregi” (a derogatory term combining the words for “journalist” and “garbage”).

—”Reporter Han, Reporter Han… Do you really not want to make money? If you’re going to be like this, just make coffee in the office. That would at least be more valuable than your articles.”

The company she worked for, which required her to chase new stories every minute and every second, was as worn out as it was annoying.

In a world where people swipe away even one-minute shorts out of boredom, being an entertainment reporter was practically the same as being a messenger pigeon, a loudspeaker, or a parrot.

That was the extent of her position.

No matter how many days she spent on investigations or how much rigorous fact-checking, critical analysis, or philosophical perspectives she included, the small and narrow screens of mobile phones were just too limited. After all, people would only read the headline of an article before scrolling down to read the comments.

<“Kairos’ Hajin Shows Off Dashing ‘Parent-Teacher Meeting Look’ as He Drops Off Members for the College Entrance Exam”>

Thus, the most successful article written by this once-dream-filled, principled journalist in recent months was something like this.

A photo article featuring high-definition shots taken with a luxury camera of some crazy guy who drove a Morning car to drop off the members at the exam site.

There was neither a need nor a reason for the article, a single line devoid of any journalistic pride, to be filled with any such sentiment. Yet, it had garnered a staggering 1 million clicks. 1 million.

It was around that time that Reporter Han began to feel something inexplicable within herself slowly fading away. Her pride as a journalist, her ego, had already been given to the dog next door after last month’s performance review.

…So, really, looking back now.

—”Try digging into this. If you can bring back something substantial, I’ll back you on that column or whatever you wanted to write. Even if a spot opens up in the social affairs department, you’ll need a portfolio to even think about applying. Do you want to change jobs with just that 1 million-view Morning car picture?”

One day, her superior handed her a lead that was quite fresh.

There was a rumor that the most popular idol these days was the son of a well-established mid-sized company’s CEO, and it was speculated that the eldest son, who was now the company’s new face, might have poured money into his younger brother’s agency to support him.

‘He’s not the tough-looking leader kid, so… this should be easy.’

So Reporter Han bit into the sweet forbidden fruit without a second thought.

The idea of leaving the dreary office to conduct an investigation was enticing, and Kairos’ Joo Eunchan, the subject of the story, seemed easy to approach.

—”Oh? Eunchan…?”

—”…?”

—”Oh my, what should I do? What’s going on, no… I’m, I’m a Desti.”

—”…Ah. Hello.”

As expected, the approach was easy.

It was Kairos’ off-schedule period, and she had confirmed a restaurant reservation under the name of Director Joo Eunseok’s secretary, with four people booked. Following Director Joo Eunseok’s movements led her to Joo Eunchan.

Taking advantage of a moment when he was alone, she pretended to be a fan, and, seeing how flustered he was while still trying to be as polite as possible, she thought he was quite a softie.

She casually dropped a few details she’d learned about Kairos while writing articles about them, and after setting her alarm to a Kairos song and pretending it was her ringtone, Joo Eunchan truly believed she was a fan until Director Joo Eunseok arrived.

—”I’m telling you, he’s Director Joo Eunseok’s younger brother. I confirmed they were together, but the photo is too blurry to use. …Yeah, yeah. But just knowing he’s their son doesn’t quite capture the key point, does it?”

The excitement she felt over being the first to catch such a big scoop was her downfall.

The contents of the phone call she made thoughtlessly in the parking lot leaked somewhere, and as a result, the number of media outlets trailing Joo Eunchan multiplied by five. Among them was Reporter Shim from Media B, who always seemed to copy and follow her article ideas.

At that point, Reporter Han became determined. It wasn’t about transferring to the social affairs department anymore; she became unreasonably and arrogantly fixated on being the first to land an interview with the Joo brothers.

—”Ah, that kid is so quick to notice things. Doesn’t he realize that if he plays nice and shows his face a little, it’ll be easier for him in the future? Anyway, everyone here saw him at the airport, and they’ll see him again at their showcase. These kids have no flexibility, seriously. No sense at all.”

At that moment, in Reporter Han’s eyes, “Joo Eunchan” was no longer a living person.

He was just a free ticket to boost her performance and increase her viewership. Or a subject beyond the screen.

That was all.

Just because she saw an idol’s face, usually recognized only as black text on a white background or in frozen images, in person, it didn’t mean he’d suddenly pop out of the monitor and come to life.

Even as she watched “Joo Eunchan” stay inside his room all day, Reporter Han felt no guilt. She thought this was simply the kind of fame that “idols” had to endure.

To be blunt, wasn’t it true that those who weren’t popular couldn’t even get a toe in front of the camera lens?

It was only after the irreversible accident occurred that she realized something was wrong.

“……”

Just thinking about the accident made Reporter Han clench her trembling hands. The loud noise from that time still seemed to explode vividly next to her ears, but it was frustrating to realize she had no hands to block them. It felt like the remnants of the accident that had covered the asphalt were still choking her.

Even though she was just a “witness” to the accident.

“…Ah.”

Outside the car window where he was sitting, she saw a familiar van with a recognizable license plate pulling in. It was the members of Kairos, who had returned from their vacation at the end of the land to visit their injured member and company staff.

Seeing the MIRO manager and members get out of the car, Reporter Han hastily unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out of her car. There was something she urgently wanted to say to them.

“They’ve been informed at the hospital, and you’ll be heading straight to the VIP room, but just in case, make sure to keep your masks and hats on…”

“Excuse me…!”

“……?”

At her call, several men, all much larger and taller than her, turned to look at her simultaneously. Having survived as a woman in this old and outdated industry, those gazes and their pressure did not scare or intimidate her.

What froze her in place was something of a slightly different kind.

“…Who are you?”

It wasn’t her gender, but rather the sheer hatred and wariness toward a “stranger” who might be a journalist.

The unfamiliar expression on the faces of those who usually only showed smiles on screen momentarily flustered Reporter Han, but she soon regained her composure and pulled out the business card from her pocket.

“I’m sorry. Um, I’m Reporter Han from Media A—”

“We don’t do interviews. Please leave.”

“No, I’m not here for an interview…! I’m a witness to the accident. I’m the one who made the emergency call. I’m here to provide information to the company.”

When she quickly revealed her identity and purpose to those who were about to walk past her, she saw what looked like the manager letting out a deep sigh as he stared at her. Feeling somewhat guilty, Reporter Han’s shoulders shrank slightly, but she still believed that once they heard her out, this misunderstanding would be cleared up.

After staring at her business card for a while, the manager rubbed his face, then turned to the members to ask whether they should wait in the car or head up to the hospital room first.

As the members briefly deliberated, their gazes naturally converged on one person.

It was Kang Hajin, the leader of Kairos, who had once brought Reporter Han the glory of a 1 million-view article.

“…Siwoo hyung, could you take care of the kids and head up first? I’ll go up with Wook-hyung. Hyung, you should check on their condition first.”

“Alright. We’ll go up first, then.”

There was a hint of irritation and sensitivity in Kang Hajin’s voice. As the members passed by her, following his words, Hajin leaned against the front bumper of their car, still wearing his hat and mask. The chilly atmosphere and his aura made it clear he was indeed a celebrity.

“Can you show me your phone and bag?”

“Huh…?”

“You could be recording or filming this conversation.”

“Oh, yes, yes. You can check. I also made sure there are no other reporters here in the VIP parking lot, but if you don’t trust me, we can talk

inside the car…”

“No. There’s nothing more dangerous than having a strange woman get into the car with the kids. Just tell me here… What’s your business?”

“Oh….”

Feeling a slight pang of unfairness at the irritated refusal and the commanding tone to just get to the point, Reporter Han hesitated. She knew they were on edge because of the accident, but it wasn’t as if she had caused the accident. In fact, she was the one who had witnessed it, called for help, and rescued them.

She was the one who testified to the police that it was Reporter Shim from Media B who had intentionally caused the accident and submitted dashcam footage as evidence. Was it really necessary to treat her so coldly?

Skillfully hiding her slight discomfort, Reporter Han conveyed her business as they wished.

“I tried to contact the company officially, but given the situation, I couldn’t reach anyone in the PR department. I’m sorry for coming so suddenly.”

“…….”

“So, what I wanted to say was, I’ve handed over all the details and evidence of the accident to the police, but I still have the originals. If the company needs them for any legal action or lawsuits against the media, I can provide them.”

“If that’s the case, you should talk to our legal team. We’ll contact you with a business card.”

“Oh, and also, um, I know you’re dealing with a lot of speculative articles about the accident right now. I’m not the perpetrator, but as someone involved, I want to ensure accurate reporting and issue corrections if necessary…”

“…Yes. You should discuss that with the PR team as well.”

“Uh, excuse me…”

However, contrary to Reporter Han’s expectations, no matter how ambitiously she presented her items, the manager from MIRO remained indifferent. The unexpected reaction left her feeling as if she were backing away toward a cliff edge.

The deafening noise of the accident still echoed in her ears, and the bloody, glass-shattered accident scene flickered before her eyes.

Reporter Han couldn’t just leave it like this. She decided to present the last item she had been mulling over since the accident.

“We’ll release a clarification article about Joo Eunchan!”

“…….”

“We’ve gathered all the materials necessary to refute and clarify the baseless rumors and accusations about members Seo Taehyun and Joo Eunchan, So-nyun Cheon-ha, Miro Maze, and Ntv. With the current spread of unverified rumor-based articles, if we issue a rebuttal report with solid evidence from our side…”

“Excuse me.”

The torrent of words pouring out of Reporter Han’s mouth came to an abrupt stop.

The voice that cut through her words like a knife and wedged itself into the conversation was dry and devoid of any warmth.

It was a voice she had never heard before, even after reviewing countless videos of Kairos for her articles. A voice sharp and filled with thorns.

Her gaze collided with deep, dark eyes. Eyes that could make even a seasoned journalist like her, who had dealt with countless celebrities, fall silent.

“Reporter.”

Hajin, who had been leaning against the car while listening to the conversation, slowly straightened up and took a step forward. However, he remained a step behind the manager.

It was as if he had no intention of getting any closer to her than necessary, drawing a transparent line between them as he spoke in a cold voice.

“If you want to make a confession, please do it at the church.”

His tone was firm, like a hand shoving her away before she could even take her last step toward the edge of the cliff.