"The worst," I repeated, the word tasting like ash in my mouth.
The silence at the table was suffocating. Chairman Park smiled, swirling his wine, enjoying the humiliation of the foreign student he had hand-picked to fail. My fork clattered onto my plate.
"Actually," a clear, cool voice cut through the tension.
All eyes turned to Chae-rin. She placed her napkin neatly on the table, meeting Chairman Park's gaze with a terrifying calmness.
"That 'worst,'" Chae-rin said, gesturing to me, "has proven to be a miscalculation on the Council's part, Chairman Park."
"Oh?" Park raised an eyebrow. "How so?"
"Mr. Motuzenko is the reason the 'Golden Triangle' has reunited," she stated flatly. "With his... unconventional methods, he has pulled Jun-seo, Myung-dae, Leo, and even your nephew Jin-hyun back onto the stage. They formed a new group. H-Wnot."
She took a sip of water.
"They passed the internal review today. They are legitimate competitors for the Autumn Festival. I would say he is less of a sabotage and more of a... catalyst."
Chairman Park froze. The amusement in his eyes flickered out, replaced by a cold, calculating sharpness. He looked at me, then at Chae-rin.
"H-Wnot?" he muttered. "Is that so? Jin-hyun is playing again?"
He let out a short, dry laugh that didn't reach his eyes.
"Well. I suppose even a broken clock is right twice a day. Impressive, Mr. Motuzenko. You are more resilient than your file suggested."
He looked annoyed. Just a fraction. A microscopic twitch of his jaw muscles.
"Let us finish dessert," Yoo Jae-man interjected gruffly, sensing the shift in atmosphere.
The rest of the dinner passed in a blur of polite misery. When it was finally over, I bowed so many times my back hurt and practically fled to the front door.
"I will walk him out," Chae-rin announced, grabbing her coat.
"I can walk myself," I protested quickly, looking at her father's stony face. "It's literally one street over."
"I need fresh air," she ignored me, stepping into her shoes. "Let's go."
We walked out of the heavy iron gates and into the quiet, lamp-lit streets of the neighborhood. The air was crisp, signaling the approach of autumn.
We walked in silence for a block.
"Sorry," Chae-rin said finally. Her voice was softer than usual.
"For what? The steak was great," I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "And hey, at least I know why I'm here now. I'm the 'Worst Choice.' It's kind of a cool title. Like a supervillain."
"I wanted to treat you," she admitted, looking straight ahead. "As a reward. For Condition One and helping with the combined performance."
"Condition One?"
"Bringing the band back together," she said. "I didn't think you could do it. But seeing Jun-seo holding a mic... seeing Myung-dae actually showing up... it made me happy. They are my friends, San. I missed seeing them together."
She sighed, kicking a stray leaf.
"I didn't know Chairman Park would be there. He and my father are discussing a merger regarding the Art Foundations. I wouldn't have brought you if I knew."
"Mr. Park..." I hesitated. "He's the Hanyeong Principal. And you said Jin-hyun is his nephew. So... is he Park Jin-woo's father?"
Chae-rin stopped walking. She turned to me, her expression tightening.
"Why are you asking about Jin-woo?" she asked sharply. "Did someone say something to you?"
"No," I said, raising my hands defensively. "I just... I see the connections. W-Naut... the band that broke up."
I took a step closer to her. We were standing under a streetlamp, the light casting long shadows.
"Chae-rin," I said seriously. "I'm in H-Wnot now. I live in the Lee house. I'm the 'sabotage' caught in the middle of this war. I think... I think I have the right to know what happened."
I looked her in the eyes.
"Why did W-Naut break up? Why does everyone look like they're in pain when the name is mentioned? Why did Kim brothers transfer to Haneyong?"
Chae-rin stared at me for a long time. She searched my face, looking for any sign of mockery. She found none.
She let out a long, heavy sigh, her shoulders dropping. The "Ice Princess" mask cracked, revealing just a tired high school girl.
"You're right," she whispered. "You're part of it now. You should know the history."
She leaned against the brick wall of a neighbor's estate, crossing her arms against the chill. She looked up at the moon.
"It wasn't just a band, San."
She closed her eyes.
"It began last autumn..."