Ji Hyo instinctively moved toward the back of the group, mentally preparing himself.
That was his cue — he had to step forward for his part.
And as he took those few steps ahead, he swore he must've sacrificed the blessings of all his ancestors just to survive this moment.
He gritted his teeth, took a deep breath, and mustered every ounce of courage in his soul.
Then, he sang:
"Nanananananana
Kotnoraega naodaga nado mollae (I start humming and before I know it)
Nunmul nal geot gatae (I feel like crying, I don't feel like myself)
Anin geot gatae naega anin geot gatae (This isn't like me at all)
I love you so much~"
Surprisingly… It worked.
The beat of the remix softened perfectly during his part, adding a gentle contrast that somehow highlighted his voice instead of clashing with it.
And thank the heavens, because Ji Hyo slightly tweaked his tone — no longer dolphin-level high pitch, but something more natural… like a baby otter trying its best to be adorable.
He executed the cute choreography he studied from the practice video, and in his head, he repeated over and over, "There's no one here. I'm alone. No one's watching. Just do it, Ji Hyo, just do it…"
He blinked innocently, mimicked the aegyo expressions, and moved with just enough bounce to appear playful.
Everyone in the room froze.
Trainees' jaws dropped. Coaches stared in shock.
Some of the trainees visibly cringed, trying to suppress secondhand embarrassment…
…but others?
Some of them actually blushed.
Because whether they liked it or not, Ji Hyo looked absurdly cute — and he was already handsome to begin with, so the combination hit unexpectedly hard.
And as he ended his part, he even managed to pull off a final bold move:
A wink.
Dead silence followed… and Ji Hyo instantly turned red, rushing to the side and covering his face with both hands like he'd just committed a crime.
Mo Jin was already trying not to laugh too loudly.
He leaned over and patted Ji Hyo's back repeatedly, whispering with a snort, "That was… something else. You're braver than I thought."
Ji Hyo groaned, still hiding behind his hands.
"Tell my parents I did my best," he muttered, half-dead inside.
The moment Ji Hyo stepped back to the side, gasping quietly and still half-dying from embarrassment, the system's notification popped up in his head.
[Side Task Completed!]
[Aegyo Master: Melt the audience with your cuteness]
[Reward: Natural Charisma C+]
[Hidden Bonus Unlocked]
[Confidence D+]
Ji Hyo wanted to scream. D+ Confidence?
Couldn't it have given him a new identity instead?
But before he could mentally complain more, the performance ended with a wave of unexpected cheers.
Even the coaches stood up, clapping with genuine smiles.
"Wow…" someone whispered from the back.
"That arrangement… they nailed it."
Ji Hyo stood awkwardly with the team, still feeling a mix of pride and utter emotional whiplash. But what made it worse?
He was standing right beside Kyungsoo.
The contrast was ridiculous. Kyungsoo stood there calmly, tall and cool with his usual charisma — and Ji Hyo beside him, still blushing from winking like a cartoon bunny.
He tried not to look at him.
Why does he make everything feel so sophisticated just by standing there…?
Soon, the coaches began delivering their evaluations — a blend of praise and critique. They acknowledged the group's synergy, how the new arrangement elevated the performance, and even highlighted Ji Hyo's unexpectedly effective aegyo execution.
Of course, Kyungsoo received the most comments, most of them glowing — from his commanding stage presence to his controlled vocals and smooth transitions.
But then, suddenly, the main producer, Hyun Jae Yang, spoke for the first time after the performance.
"Why did Ji Hyo only join the performance during his part?"
The room went dead silent.
Ji Hyo blinked, caught off guard. His lips parted, about to explain—
but Kyungsoo spoke first.
"That was my instruction," he said coolly. "Ji Hyo had just returned after being hospitalized for a week. He wasn't able to join the rehearsals fully, so we arranged the formation and timing to make sure he could still participate without compromising the group's flow."
Even Badji Lee, the dance coach, nodded in agreement.
"Yes, I was informed of that setup. And it worked out well, considering the circumstances."
Then the other dance coach, Doeri Mon, added,
"Ji Hyo collapsed during my class last week. That's why he was hospitalized."
There was a short pause.
But instead of nodding in approval, the main producer gave a sharp remark.
"That's all understandable, but it still shows his lack of preparation. If this were a real stage, there would be no excuses."
The words landed like a cold slap. Ji Hyo clenched his fists slightly.
But once again, Kyungsoo spoke — not loudly, but firmly.
"That's true. But it also takes guts to perform in that state. Most would've sat it out."
Another long silence followed.
The producer stared at Ji Hyo for a moment, his expression unreadable — neither harsh nor impressed. Just… neutral. And somehow that made it even more nerve-wracking.
Finally, he spoke again.
"Alright. Proceed to the last group."
And just like that, the attention shifted elsewhere.
But Ji Hyo remained still, blinking in disbelief.
Did Kyungsoo… just defend me? Twice?
Even Mo Jin, standing behind him, leaned forward and whispered, "Dude… I think Kyungsoo's a tsundere."
Ji Hyo couldn't respond. He was still too stunned — not just by Kyungsoo's defense, but also by the odd sense of unexpected teamwork between them.
Even if it was confusing… maybe it wasn't so bad after all.
As the last group wrapped up their performance, Mo Jin nudged Ji Hyo lightly with his elbow, flashing a small, excited grin.
"Looks like it's our turn next," he said cheerfully. "Wish us luck."
Ji Hyo nodded. "Yeah. You'll do great."
He didn't know exactly how skilled Mo Jin was, but judging from his confident attitude, Ji Hyo figured he had something up his sleeve.
Mo Jin's team then moved forward for their stage, and as the music started, Ji Hyo watched quietly from the sidelines — and was honestly surprised. Mo Jin was incredible.
His dancing was sharp, his timing perfect, and his energy so captivating that it instantly pulled attention toward him. Even Ji Hyo couldn't help but focus on him throughout most of the stage.
He's… really good, Ji Hyo thought, eyes slightly wide in awe. Didn't expect that at all.
After the performance, Mo Jin returned to his seat, slightly sweaty but grinning from ear to ear.
"How did I do?" he asked with playful confidence.
Ji Hyo gave a half-laugh. "You were amazing. Honestly, I didn't expect it."
Mo Jin chuckled, flipping his hair. "Well, gotta leave a little mystery."
Before Ji Hyo could say anything else, Coach Badji Lee stepped forward and clapped to get everyone's attention.
"Great work on your group evaluations, everyone," he said. "It's good to see how far you've all come."
The other coaches followed up with their own thoughts — Coach Gunmi Sok pointing out strengths in vocal delivery and expression, while Coach Yoona Chae gave detailed remarks on rhythm and flow.
After several minutes of feedback, Coach Gunmi clapped her hands again and smiled.
"Now, let's proceed to the next part of today's evaluation — the solo performance evaluation," she announced.
This time, no one groaned. Everyone already knew it was coming — and tension quietly returned to the room like a silent wave.
Ji Hyo took a deep breath, feeling his pulse quicken.
"Can this day end already?"
Mo Jin leaned in again and whispered with a cheeky smile, "You ready?"
Ji Hyo nodded, forcing a smile. "I have to be."