Chapter 1: Prologue Assistant Manager Kim Hates Idols
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 1: Prologue Assistant Manager Kim Hates Idols
Home. Past 11:00 PM.
I moved my hands busily, a self-imposed penance for not yet being able to shake off the day's work.
[~Congratulations on the 7th Anniversary of the Unextinguishable Flame, Spark~]
At least the completion of the pink banner file was right before my eyes.
Once I finished this, I could finally sleep.
I could say goodbye to Department Head Nam’s relentless pestering and the dozens of reference materials that piled up in my inbox every single day.
I would be able to enjoy the Chuseok holiday a full day earlier than everyone else.
If he dares to cancel my annual leave at the last minute again, I’ll turn him into an ambassador for the Ministry of Employment and Labor’s interrogation room.
Because of a certain someone, I still had seventeen days of leave left, and it was already September.
I wasn't backing down this time. I would protect my vacation at all costs.
Muttering phrases I’d picked up from some online community, I typed away with renewed fervor.
How many times did I alternate between checking the calendar and focusing on the Photoplat?
"…Done. I’m not touching it anymore. Seriously."
After a long struggle, the file I’d built through sheer grit was finally renamed to 'Spark_7th_Anniversary_Celebration_Cafe(Banner)'.
Now, all I had to do was send the email. I hurriedly opened a browser window.
Immediately, the dizzyingly handsome faces I’d grown sick of seeing on the banner greeted me.
Since I was told to always keep track of Spark’s news, I had set the entertainment news as my homepage.
These damn bastards were the phantom thieves who had stolen the heart of my department head’s daughter, and the primary culprits keeping me awake until this hour… or so I thought.
"What?"
There, I saw it.
The owners of the banner I had just spent hours on, agonizing over twenty-eight thousand different color variations to see which looked best.
A single headline containing the name of that godforsaken group, Spark.
『Spark fails to overcome the "7-year curse"… proceeding with disbandment.』
"Fuck…."
My memory after that was a blur.
I don't know if I fainted from sheer rage or if I just slammed my head onto the keyboard and fell asleep from extreme sleep deprivation.
I didn't even pass out from working overtime; I passed out while doing fan chores for my boss’s daughter.
Since I didn't collapse in the office, I wouldn't even be able to claim worker's compensation.
Everything about this was absurd. My vision fading to black felt like a metaphor for my future.
Warm sunlight. A quiet, peaceful morning.
My body felt so refreshed that I couldn't even tell how many hours I’d slept.
Without a doubt, it was the best I’d felt in a long time. Everything was perfect.
…Except for the fact that there was a wooden plank right in front of my face.
Was the ceiling always this close?
For some reason, the ceiling seemed to be right before my eyes.
Objects appearing so much closer than their actual position—I must still be half-asleep.
After working seven days a week followed by overtime on Monday, it made sense that I was out of it.
Add to that the shocking news that the banner I’d worked on for two weeks was now useless.
It was only natural to be exhausted. I couldn't even remember when I’d crawled into bed.
As I reached my hand toward my head to grab my phone and check the time, a conversation I’d overheard my team members having flashed through my mind.
'Don't you think the air feels different when you've overslept?'
'I know, right? Your body feels strangely refreshed, the sunlight is warm…'
'And everything is so quiet. That’s when the cold sweat starts dripping.'
Peaceful air? Check.
Refreshed body? Check.
Quiet atmosphere… A perfect match.
I’m fucked.
I bolted upright like a spring. In the process, I nearly slammed my head against the strangely low ceiling.
It wasn't an optical illusion; the ceiling really was lower.
Did the house sag while I was sleeping?
I wondered if "the ceiling collapsed" would be an acceptable excuse for being late as I turned my head.
An even more shocking scene unfolded beside me.
Someone was sleeping with their back to me in another bed, just a reach away.
Luggage I’d never seen before was scattered haphazardly across the beds and the floor.
This was something that could never happen in my home, where I’d lived alone ever since moving out.
First of all, this isn't my house. Definitely not.
The mysteries multiplied as my field of vision gradually widened.
But whatever. If he hadn't broken into my house, then I must have been kidnapped and brought to his.
I immediately grabbed my pillow. It was time to utilize the strength I’d built up over years of acting as the pack mule for the company hiking club.
Just as I was carefully aiming for a spot about a span above the guy's head, a flash of light erupted before my eyes. Reflexively, I squeezed them shut.
When I managed to open them again, an unbelievable phenomenon was taking place.
+
[SYSTEM] Assistant Manager Kim I-wol’s (hereafter Party B) Life Reuse has been approved.
+
"…? What is this?"
Words were floating in mid-air.
And the content made absolutely no sense.
I might strive for an eco-friendly lifestyle, but I had no intention of "reusing" my life.
Or was this that "floaters" thing Assistant Manager Hwang said he was suffering from?
But "payment windows flickering before my eyes" wasn't among the symptoms Hwang had mentioned.
If it were, Hwang shouldn't have been coming to work; he should have been resigning.
"…."
My first time oversleeping after a career of perfect attendance.
A stranger sleeping soundly under a blanket.
And now a mid-air typing show in a house I’d been suddenly dragged to.
I knew exactly what to call a situation like this.
It’s a pipe dream.
The realization that I wasn't actually late for work brought instant peace of mind. I pulled the blanket back up and lay down on the bed.
That was when it happened. The world flashed white once more.
Just as I was about to ask for the lights to be turned down, a message appeared that I couldn't possibly ignore.
+
[SYSTEM] A work order from the "Person in Charge" has arrived.
▶ Assistant Manager Kim, you should debut with this batch of kids. This is a really good opportunity, you know? The day will surely come when you’ll thank me. Never forget that the higher-ups have high expectations for you.
[SYSTEM] "Party B’s" KPI has been set to "Debut as a 6-member boy group."
+
"Person in Charge," my ass.
There are exactly three things I loathe: immediate family, my boss Department Head Nam, and responsibility. I’m strictly the "low-level employee" type.
The System’s tone was the spitting image of Department Head Nam. I thought the man had come back from the dead.
Oh, wait. That guy is still perfectly healthy.
Even if it was a dream, I couldn't forgive a message impersonating my boss first thing in the morning.
No matter how cutthroat the industry, shouldn't there be a minimum level of human respect? I felt like reporting this for smishing.
And what? Debut as a boy group?
Ridiculous.
This was a horrific nightmare. I felt like I’d be better off slamming my forehead into the ceiling to find enlightenment.
My long, bitter ill-fate with idols began when I was a new recruit.
To me, who had been at the company for only a week, the then-Team Leader Nam (before his promotion to Department Head) asked his first question:
"Kim I-wol, do you know how to use Photoplat?"
Not knowing the universal truth that one should claim ignorance even when they know, I uttered the disastrous words: "I have a certification."
From that day on, my life went to hell. I was officially designated as Department Head Nam’s personal errand machine.
The errands he assigned weren't limited to company business.
It started with transcribing radio appearances of the boy group "Spark," which his daughter’s favorite member belonged to.
Then it moved to taking frame-by-frame captures of their live broadcasts, and even designing and ordering cup holders for something called a "birthday cafe."
Whenever Spark started a new round of promotions, I had to process tasks I’d never even heard of with bloodshot eyes.
It was the start of an idol fandom life I never asked for.
"I don't know why she pays other people to do this stuff. Seeing Assistant Manager Kim do it, I think she could do it at home if she just learned how."
"Haha, this takes more time than you’d think, Team Leader."
"I told her off at home. Said she doesn't know how to save money. Anyway, about that banner you made yesterday, our kid wants a revision."
"Excuse me?"
"She says it shouldn't just be 'Emperor Choi Je-ho,' it has to be 'Center Emperor Choi Je-ho.' Have it in my inbox by 1:00 PM."
By the time six months had passed since I became a specialized gif-maker for Spark’s center—the so-called "Center Emperor Choi Je-ho"—Department Head Nam’s daughter had evolved from a solo fan of Choi Je-ho to an "all-fan" of the entire group.
She said it was "Only Center Emperor Choi Je-ho."
She said she "only had eyes for Je-ho."
It felt like the world was collapsing.
As the number of gifs I had to steam-cook increased fivefold, my energy as a human gif-steamer was rapidly depleted.
Of course, I didn't just sit there and submissively follow every order.
Wondering if an office worker really had to go this far, I sought advice from those around me.
After being told I didn't have to do it all, I tried a hundred and one ways to say, "I’m sorry, but I don't think I can handle any more of these tasks," but all it did was give him more excuses to nitpick my actual work.
"I-wol, what on earth does this mean? I can't understand a single thing you've written."
"Did you get this reviewed by Manager Jo before posting? Tell Manager Jo to come here."
Days of asking for confirmation four times, swearing internally eight times, and bowing my head six times.
I, who had stubbornly resisted the fandom duties while barely hanging on under him, finally waved the white flag the day Team Leader Nam—who had squeezed his subordinates dry—was promoted to Department Head.
And then those loathsome Spark bastards, who had provided me with a living hell, suddenly announced their disbandment.
Right in front of my eyes, as I was forcibly preparing for their 7th-anniversary support.
I already hated idols enough to cry tears of blood. These bastards had no professional ethics.
I didn't look in a mirror, but I was sure my eyes were bloodshot. I could feel the intraocular pressure rising in real-time.
To compose myself, I mentally reviewed my "List of Things to Do After Resigning" starting from number one.
"Mmm…."
While I was trying hard to calm down, the guy sleeping in the opposite bed tossed and turned.
Could he be one of the "kids from this batch" mentioned by the System?
What sin did he commit in his past life to be punished with becoming an idol alongside an old man like me? That young man must have a pretty unlucky fate as well.
Even if it was a dream, I was about to offer him some sympathy when his sleeping face turned toward me.
Surprisingly, it was a familiar face.
Strong features and thick eyebrows.
A sharp jawline and a long, elegant neck.
It was a face I couldn't fail to recognize, as it had been seared into my corneas.
It was the exact same face as the younger version of Department Head Nam’s daughter’s favorite, Center Emperor Choi Je-ho—the man who had kept me awake for over three years.
Spark is appearing here?
And of all people, him?
The very face that had forced me to return to the office after I’d already clocked out, just because I’d missed one photo retouch? Having him right in front of me… I’d be justified even if I lost my mind.
My whole body felt hot, as if I were lying on an electric mat. It was definitely a stress-induced fever.
But I had to endure. This was a dream.
Even if I grabbed him by the collar and demanded, "I was in the middle of archiving your Instagram, how dare you clear your feed, are you insane?" nothing would change.
After all, no one would understand that pain unless they were a subordinate being blackmailed by their boss into scraping someone else's posts until 9:00 PM.
But I couldn't suppress the boiling rage. It felt like the anger was etched into my spinal cord.
Don't tell me the other four are also from Spark…?
If you added me to the five-member group Spark, it made exactly the six members specified by the System. The pieces fit together with terrifying precision.
At this moment, if I could only contact Department Head Nam’s daughter, I wanted to ask her.
To the person who said 5 minus 1 equals 0.
I’m really sorry, but what does 5 plus 1 equal?
I bitterly regretted not closing my eyes before seeing that pathetic message.
And I vehemently denied the current situation.
If it was Spark, I refused.
Even if they locked me in a hotel and fed me nothing but room service while making me work, if it involved Center Emperor Choi Je-ho, I absolutely refused.
Debut with the guys who only smiled three times during a two-hour live broadcast, forcing me to capture 50 smiling shots for each member?
"Yeah. Absolutely not."
Did the System hear the sound of my heart’s bolt sliding shut?
The text that had been floating there vanished, and a new sentence appeared.
+
[SYSTEM] A work order from the "Person in Charge" has arrived.
▶ They say kids these days only work as much as they’re paid, right? But is that how company life really works? Still, I’m not stingy with evaluations. Our Assistant Manager Kim should get as much as he works. Sounds good, right?
[SYSTEM] "Personnel Disadvantage" has been designated due to "Party B’s" failure to achieve the final KPI.
[SYSTEM] "Performance Reward" has been designated upon "Party B’s" achievement of the final KPI.
+
From start to finish, every phrase was infuriating.
Did it really think I’d fall for that?
I won't deny that my life has been soft enough for a "System" to look down on me.
From the moment I accepted all of Department Head Nam’s nonsense, I was essentially volunteering for a path of suffering.
But I didn't want to be branded as a certified pushover even in my dreams.
I was about to poke my own eyes out rather than keep looking at that crap when my vision flashed again.
What followed was nothing short of shocking.
+
[SYSTEM] "Personnel Disadvantage" is being notified.
▷ Forced re-employment at Hanpyeong Industry and imposition of job transfer restrictions upon resignation.
▷ Permanent forfeiture of the opportunity to receive the final performance reward.
+
It was a notice that I would be forcibly re-employed at my former company, from which I hadn't even properly resigned yet.
To be forced back into a shitty small-time agency like Hanpyeong Industry!
A company where, if you said you were out of toilet paper, they told you to wait until the supermarket had a sale! I’d have to join such a place regardless of my will!
It even said they would restrict my ability to change jobs if I resigned.
It seemed they were fully intent on dumping a bucket of coal ash over my career.
I’d have to stay at that godforsaken company until retirement?
I couldn't let that happen. My greatest regret in life was submitting my resume to Hanpyeong Industry in the first place.
No, fuck that. It was lamentable that I even logged onto a job site at that hour on that day.
The explanation that followed took a moment to process. My brain wasn't working well because I was seeing red at the thought of re-entering Hanpyeong Industry.
Final performance reward?
What did a final reward matter? I was already dying of revulsion at the thought of re-employment.
I firmly believed there could be no situation worse than this.
Until I saw the explanation that appeared next.
+
[SYSTEM] "Final Performance Reward" is being notified.
▷ Nullification of older sister’s (blood relative) death and provision of an opportunity for reunion.
+
The chance to meet my sister again, who had died two years ago, was being offered as a mere "reward."
Nullify my sister’s death?
It seemed my "unlucky year" had hit me hard. Either that, or my nightly prayers for Department Head Nam to go to hell had backfired and hit me instead.
Truly, I felt like I had fallen into hell, not dreamland.
―
*KPI: Key Performance Indicator.
