Chapter 19: Conflict of Opinion (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 19: Conflict of Opinion (1)
In terms of achieving KPIs, lacking objective metrics is like a workplace with five or more employees failing to guarantee paid leave on public holidays.
In other words, it’s absolute nonsense.
In that sense, there was no point in me fussing over a single-point increase in my proficiency. I had no frame of reference.
If my goal was to debut with Spark, I needed to gauge exactly where these guys stood.
Besides, the system was offering to turn invisible factors into clear, numerical data like "proficiency." Only a fool would pass up an opportunity like that.
‘If it’s a trial ticket, maybe it’ll only let me view one person.’
I had already decided whose resume I would look at if I were restricted to just one of the five.
Someone whose position was vocal, who had no glaring weaknesses, and who acted as Spark’s all-rounder—even in terms of self-management.
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[SYSTEM] Would you like to view ‘Jeong Seong-bin’s’ resume?
▶ Yes / No
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It was Jeong Seong-bin.
Immediately, a resume in the same format as mine appeared before my eyes.
Before reading the contents, I checked for a viewing limit or a timer, but I saw nothing of the sort. It seemed my assumption was correct: the restriction was likely on the number of people I could view.
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[Spark’s Eternal Leader] Jeong Seong-bin
Jeong Seong-bin (19)
Experience
— 4th place overall in the February Monthly Evaluation
— 5th-year trainee at UA
Performance Evaluation (100)
— Vocal Proficiency: 12/20
— Dance Proficiency: 8/20
— Self-PR: 7/20
— Attendance Management: 13/20
— Organizational Adaptability: 11/20
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Seeing someone else’s resume after all that struggle was nothing short of a shock.
It was only natural, but while I had barely managed to scrape together a double-digit total for Vocal and Dance using underhanded tricks, Jeong Seong-bin’s stats started with a different leading digit entirely.
However, I was a bit puzzled that Seong-bin’s Dance Proficiency—considering he was a far better dancer than I was—was only three points higher than mine.
There were only two possible explanations.
‘Either the density of proficiency gained through actual effort is higher than the proficiency I gained through shortcuts, or there’s a massive wall between 6 and 8 points.’
If it was the latter, it was about time I started managing my Vocal Proficiency as well.
Another notable point was his Organizational Adaptability.
Seong-bin’s adaptability was as high as his singing ability. Considering he had the talent to be a main vocal even if he had debuted elsewhere, it was easy to guess that his adaptability was also at a formidable level.
I guess you need that kind of adaptability to lead a group like Spark.
I gave Seong-bin a silent round of applause in my heart. With my adaptability at 10, this was a realm I didn't dare covet.
‘For the time being, I should put my Welfare Points into Vocals.’
If a five-point gap in proficiency didn't cause major issues, then given my original goal of aiming for a sub-vocal position, it made sense to shift my focus toward singing.
For some reason, I felt like a pathetic office worker obsessed with performance reviews just to get a promotion.
The opportunity to practice singing in a new way came sooner than expected.
The manager arrived with a request for a guide recording for an established UA artist.
“Seong-bin will be doing the actual guide, but the Representative said you guys should all take a turn to get some recording experience.”
It was exactly what you’d expect from a company with its own in-house recording studio. This was a rare opportunity that trainees in companies that had to book external studios by the hour would hardly ever get.
Right on cue, a new task popped up.
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[SYSTEM] A ‘New Task’ has been assigned.
▷ Experience Recording
▷ Reward: Experience Points (5)
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‘Five...’
Speaking of experience points, the system had made an adjustment the moment it confirmed my Vocal Proficiency had reached 6.
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[SYSTEM] The amount of obtainable Experience Points has been adjusted.
▷ Previous: 10 Base Experience Points
▷ Current: 5 Base Experience Points
▷ Note: Once a Performance Evaluation score reaches 7, manual point allocation will be restricted.
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It didn't even give a reason anymore; it just slapped me with the adjustment. Dirty system.
It seemed I wouldn't even be able to increase my proficiency at will once I hit 7 points.
Since I had no choice, I’d have to do as I was told, but I really hoped they’d let me leave a star rating for this system later.
You think you’re the only one who can give out scores? I can give them too. I’m a member of Occupation Planet, you know.
Regardless, if I wanted to earn even those measly 5 experience points, I had to focus on the guide recording for now.
‘At least there’s no pressure.’
The job itself didn't require high perfection, and my completion criteria was merely to "experience" it, so I felt little burden.
Still, I wanted to get something out of it. I didn't want to waste time just for a few experience points. I was in a recording studio, after all.
Since Seong-bin was busy focusing on his work, I turned to Park Ju-woo, who looked just as relaxed as I was.
“Has Seong-bin been doing guide recordings for a long time?”
“Probably. ...As far as I know, for about two years.”
“He’s a real talent, a real talent.”
Lee Cheong-hyeon chimed in from the side.
“I think Seong-bin Hyung has done the guides for all of Jun-hu Sunbaenim’s songs.”
“I see.”
Jang Jun-hu was a singer even I knew. He was a ballad singer who had risen to fame after his debut song became a massive hit.
‘In terms of vocal range and tone, they do have a similar vibe.’
The song we were given to practice was also a traditional ballad. Personally, it wasn't as impressive as the artist's debut track. Given that I didn't remember it well, it might have been a flop.
The song itself wasn't difficult, perhaps intended to be easy listening.
Whether it was thanks to that or his own ability, Seong-bin’s guide recording finished smoothly without a hitch.
The rest of the members also took their turns and did well. Choi Je-ho and Kang Gi-yeon weren't primarily vocalists, but thanks to the years of training at UA, they showed decent singing ability.
I also finished my very first recording, making the most of my Vocal Proficiency of 6.
“I-wol, you said this was your first time recording, but you weren't nervous at all?”
“You didn't even go off-pitch. You did great for a beginner! You can come out now!”
The UA-style shower of praise for beginners apparently extended to the recording studio.
Being praised wasn't a bad thing, but it wasn't something to get complacent about. Objectively, I had to view this praise as encouragement and support rather than a high evaluation.
In times like this, there was only one thing to do.
Practice.
As soon as the guide experience was over, I returned to the basement vocal practice room and opened my lyric sheet with grim determination. My goal for today was to perfectly sing the assignment song from vocal class without a single pitch deviation.
I was about to take a deep breath and dive into the world of self-reflection when I heard voices outside.
The sound from inside this practice room didn't leak out, but outside noise bled in slightly.
‘If I can hear them from in here, they must be talking pretty loudly.’
In society, it was sometimes good manners to pretend you didn't hear things.
Just as I was about to considerately put on my earphones, I heard a voice shout, “That’s not what I meant!”
It was Kang Gi-yeon’s voice.
‘Unless they’re practically screaming, it shouldn't be this clear, right?’
My mind was already cluttered enough, and now this. A sigh escaped my lips.
I turned off my repeating playlist and stood up.
Outside the soundproof booth, Kang Gi-yeon—who was often misunderstood because he looked angry even when he was calm—was facing off against Choi Je-ho, who looked visibly displeased.
A murderous atmosphere swirled between them.
Lee Cheong-hyeon stood beside Kang Gi-yeon, and Jeong Seong-bin stood between Gi-yeon and Je-ho.
By chance, I locked eyes with Jeong Seong-bin, who looked incredibly distressed.
‘Seong-bin, it’d be more helpful if I just stayed inside, right?’
To my telepathy, Seong-bin made an expression like a dandelion seed soaked in the rain.
‘Please, please intervene...’
That was a bit difficult. My philosophy was that "kids grow up by fighting with intellect and logic."
Perhaps he still had enough presence of mind to hear the door opening, because Kang Gi-yeon looked toward me.
It seemed the time had come to break out the "clueless" acting I had honed at Hanpyeong Industry but hadn't used in a while.
“Are you two fighting?”
“...No.”
Kang Gi-yeon answered, suppressing a rage that looked ready to boil over. He must have raised his voice in the heat of the moment.
I was thinking I should teach him how to use the "Patience Mark" three times later, when Choi Je-ho cut in.
“Weren't we fighting? You clearly have a problem with me.”
At Choi Je-ho’s uncompromising attitude, Kang Gi-yeon’s brow, which had barely begun to relax, twitched again.
Before teaching Kang Gi-yeon about patience, it seemed more urgent to give this guy some "How to Speak Kindly" training.
Thanks to Choi Je-ho pouring gasoline on the fire, the atmosphere was hurtling toward a catastrophe.
“Hyung, if you could just do something about that tone...”
“Whoa, whoa, Gi-yeon. Let’s stop here!”
Seeing Kang Gi-yeon gritting his teeth, Lee Cheong-hyeon tried to intervene with a forced, bright voice.
However, Kang Gi-yeon made no effort to hide that he had a lot more to say. It seemed Choi Je-ho opening the floodgates had set him ablaze as well.
I had no choice but to fold my plan of just watching and then pulling them apart.
“Right, Gi-yeon. I know you’re pissed, but calm down.”
“...”
“That way, you won't lose sight of the essence of why you’re fighting. If you get hung up on the wrong thing, nothing gets resolved.”
“...Huh?”
The four of them stared at me simultaneously.
Why? Isn't pinpointing the point of contention the basic step to problem-solving?
“Hyung, you are trying to stop the fight, right...?”
Lee Cheong-hyeon asked, his face full of bewilderment.
I shrugged and replied.
“I have no intention of stopping it.”
“What?”
“They wouldn't be doing this without a reason. They’re old enough. If there’s something they don't agree on, they can fight.”
Jeong Seong-bin, whose face was the palest of them all, stammered as if he wanted to say something.
“It’s not like they’re going to start throwing punches, right? They’re kids who want to be idols; they wouldn't do something that pathetic.”
At my words, Choi Je-ho and Kang Gi-yeon looked dumbfounded.
Sorry, but from my perspective, I’m also deeply regretful that I have to get involved in a fight between kids ten years younger than me at my age.