Chapter 61: How to Resolve Conflict with Superiors (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 61: How to Resolve Conflict with Superiors (2)
Most people have a memory from their school days.
A student goes to the storage room to put away the field line marker and discovers a mysterious box tucked away in a corner.
Wavering over whether to throw it away, they open the box to find belongings left behind by students they don't even know—items that seem fine to toss, yet somehow feel like they shouldn't be discarded…
“…And that is the concept for this album package.”
With those words, my unconventional presentation came to an end.
The meeting room erupted with various reactions to the ‘Secret Box Left Behind by Spark’ concept.
Opinions ranged from it being too experimental to it being overkill for a first mini-album.
They were all reactions I had anticipated. That was why I proceeded to show them, one by one, the meticulously crafted unit price tables, references, and the potential SNS and viral trends for a concept-driven album.
As for the opinion that it was too much effort…
“I believe failing to put in this much effort now and getting swept away immediately upon debut would result in a much greater deficit,” I countered.
Wake up, people. If we blow it here, Spark won't see the light of day for at least two years after they debut.
I stood there silently, hoping for a positive review, when the Representative called my name.
“I-wol.”
“Yes.”
“Open that page with the community reactions again.”
When I pulled up the page, the Representative stared at the screen in silence for several minutes. It seemed he intended to read every single captured post.
After a moment, he finally spoke.
“Team Leader Jang.”
“Yes, Representative.”
“Have the whole Planning Team develop I-wol’s proposal further and submit it. If the timing works out, have I-wol sit in on the meetings too.”
It was the green light. I felt a rush of relief.
Of course, that joy didn't last long.
Not long after the meeting ended, Yu Han-su called for me through the manager.
When I first heard he was looking for me, I didn't think much of it. I figured he just wanted to take out his frustration on me because his own proposal had been rendered useless.
But the moment I stepped into the meeting room, I knew.
This man was absolutely livid.
Yu Han-su, who was leaning so far back in his chair it looked ready to tip over, didn't even tell me to sit. He just glared at me and spoke.
“Hey.”
“Yes, PD-nim.”
“You think I’m a fucking joke, don't you?”
It was a raw display of emotion, surprising coming from someone twenty years my senior.
Fortunately, I had enough sense to know not to say 'yes' here.
I folded my hands politely and replied, “No, sir.”
But Yu Han-su didn't believe me.
“The hell you don't, you little shit. You think I haven't seen punks like you before?”
Impressive. I thought he’d only learned how to be a thug at work, but apparently, he’d picked up mind reading too.
Yu Han-su let out a heavy sigh, as if trying to demonstrate just how angry he was.
As a twenty-nine-year-old office worker, a mere sigh wasn't enough to intimidate me. I simply waited for whatever he was going to spit out next.
How would he attack me?
Does it feel good to make your superior look like a fool? Do you think you're hot shit just because you got praised once?
I’d heard it all before at Hanpyeong Industry, so I wasn't particularly worried.
Then, Yu Han-su opened his mouth.
“Tell me the truth.”
“I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”
“Whose parachute hire are you?”
Wow. Now that was a new one.
It was a fresh hypothesis that the HR team, who actually knew the employees' personal details, would never have come up with. I’ll give him bonus points for creativity.
More importantly, this guy is a total lost cause.
Yu Han-su didn't even consider my proposal passing as a stroke of luck. He simply assumed I’d been recognized because of someone’s backing.
It seemed Yu Han-su had never actually seen a real parachute hire before.
In that regard, having seen more than my fair share of them while never being one myself, I could confidently push back.
“Excuse me?” I asked, with a scoff that made it clear I thought he was talking nonsense.
Yu Han-su’s face contorted when he saw my smirk.
“Did you just laugh?” he demanded.
Yeah, I laughed, you prick.
How could I not?
The historic moment where I finally get to talk back to a boss has arrived.
It’s absurd that he can spout verbal abuse and power trip all he wants, yet a trainee playing the role of a subordinate isn't even allowed to smile.
When I didn't even offer the “I’m sorry” that usually lived on my lips, Yu Han-su’s face turned beet red.
“I knew you were this kind of bastard. You conspired with the Planning Team Leader, didn't you? You saw the Representative liked you, so you took a proposal from Team Leader Jang and committed fraud by pretending it was yours.”
Yu Han-su stood up and poked my shoulder repeatedly with his finger as he barked at me.
There was only one thing I could say to him.
“I don't do things like that.”
I watched Yu Han-su’s trembling, clenched fist and continued.
“Though I suppose some people might.”
The moment I finished speaking, Yu Han-su pulled back the hand he’d been poking me with.
Simultaneously, with a dull thud, my head snapped to the right.
For a second, it was as quiet as if time had stopped.
But the sounds that gradually followed told me everything I needed to know without even looking. Yu Han-su was huffing and puffing with rage.
With my head still turned, I carefully placed my hand on my left cheek.
The pain began to throb a moment later.
Did this guy really just hit me?
Why? He has absolutely nothing to gain by using violence in this situation.
Was it just a blind, impulsive rage? From a man who knows how to use his head well enough to live like a parasite off other people’s achievements?
Maybe it was because I’d been hit in the head, but I couldn't quite wrap my mind around the situation.
However, unlike me, Yu Han-su’s face showed nothing but blatant anger. There wasn't a trace of the embarrassment one might expect after accidentally hitting someone.
I lowered my gaze slightly and saw Yu Han-su’s still tightly clenched fist.
Hitting someone with an open palm is bad enough, but to use a fist? And on the face?
My face was already half-frozen from the winter wind. Did he think it was okay just because he’d been in a warm meeting room this whole time?
Let’s say I’m the one who took the hit this time. What guarantee is there that someone else won't be next?
My annoyance slowly curdled into rage. Thinking of Jang Jun-hu throwing empty water bottles made me feel even shittier.
I looked Yu Han-su straight in the eye and spoke.
“PD-nim, are you the type of person who hits people?”
“What, you little shit?”
I do not treat people who hit others with respect.
That was my principle and my conviction.
“You seem to throw your fists out of habit. I suppose you might even go for a few more rounds if given the chance.”
“Hey!”
“I’m the one who got hit, so why are you the one shouting, PD-nim?”
Yu Han-su flinched at my question.
Fuck.
I don't know how to describe this feeling. It was just sickening.
Yu Han-su, who hit me and then had the audacity to snap at me.
Department Head Nam, who never laid a hand on me but used folders or pens to harass me in every way possible.
My parents, who beat me until I grew to loathe being hit.
And myself, who only managed to find the courage to stand up to Yu Han-su after receiving a confirmation sign from some mysterious entity called the System.
It was pointless to keep talking to Yu Han-su when I had no device to record the conversation.
But I couldn't suppress the feeling of something long-bottled-up finally exploding. My mouth wouldn't stop, as if a screw had come loose.
“Does the Representative know you go around assaulting trainees like this, PD-nim?”
“Assault? Don't try to blow this out of proportion by using such strong words. You think I don't know you're trying to play mind games?”
“How could I play mind games? My head won't even turn properly because I was hit with a fist.”
The moment I finished, Yu Han-su slapped me across the cheek with his palm.
Hitting the same spot twice. Where’s the garbage truck? Why hasn't it picked up this trash yet?
Whether I was cursing him out internally or not, my cheek went beyond burning to a sharp sting. The bone in my face throbbed.
Even then, his anger wasn't spent, and Yu Han-su grabbed me by the collar.
“You little bastard, I will make sure you are buried in this industry.”
“Buried?”
“I guess half a year as a trainee hasn't broken your pride yet, but burying someone like you without a sound is child's play. You hear me?”
“Do I need to?”
I pulled an MP3 player out of my pocket—one I only used for vocal practice, with no functions other than playing the songs I’d put on it.
“With just this, someone else might get buried before I do.”
When I held up the MP3 player, which contained nothing but a dozen or so songs, Yu Han-su lunged at me and forced my hand open.
Then, with a profanity-laced scream, he stomped on the MP3 player until the screen shattered.
After throwing his tantrum, Yu Han-su finally stormed out of the meeting room, unable to contain his rage.
Once the sound of his footsteps had completely faded, a sigh filled with a cocktail of emotions escaped my lips.
“Whew…”
It was satisfying to get under Yu Han-su’s skin, but now I was a trainee who’d been slapped twice and lost his MP3 player. It was a pathetic state of affairs.
Still, I couldn't leave the trash in the meeting room, so I crouched down to pick up the broken pieces of the MP3 player. As I did, I cooled my head and reviewed the situation.
No matter how I look at it, he seemed way more pissed off than necessary.
For the type of person who leeches off others' achievements, image management is crucial. That way, nothing gets in the way of sweet-talking people.
There was no way Yu Han-su, who had just joined a new company, didn't know that.
It didn't seem likely that Yu Han-su would risk so much just for a moment of catharsis after hearing a few words from me.
He even hit me in the face.
I’d deliberately asked if he was in the habit of hitting people just to provoke him, but the truly malicious ones usually hit where it doesn't show. In that sense, it didn't seem like Yu Han-su was being particularly calculated about his violence.
There’s definitely something more to this.
Something that made Yu Han-su throw a punch before he could even think about the image he’d been so carefully maintaining.
I wondered what nerve I’d touched as I carefully wrapped the fragments in scrap paper from the meeting room so no one would get hurt by the pieces.
Then, I tucked the paper bundle containing the remains of the MP3 player into my pocket and headed toward the practice room.
I didn't think he’d go that far, but it would be troublesome if Yu Han-su, worried that I might have actually recorded him, went through the trash and found out the MP3 player didn't even have a recording function.
If he realized he’d been tricked, that man might come back to hit my other cheek.
My face was already lacking compared to the other members; I had to at least keep it free of scars.
Deciding to take the trash back to the dorm, I opened the door to the practice room.
The sound of music flowing out seemed to prove that the boys hadn't stopped practicing even while I was gone.
“Sorry I’m late. Was practice going well?”
“It’s okay… Hyung?”
Jeong Seong-bin, who had rushed to the spare phone to turn off the music as soon as I entered, asked with a suddenly grave expression.
“Hyung. What happened to your face?”
My face? What’s wrong with it?
I brought my hand to my left cheek, where Jeong Seong-bin was staring.
I felt a sharp, electric sting across my face.
The others were all staring at my face as well. A chill ran down my spine.
That’s right.
I have the kind of skin that shows marks immediately when I get hit.