Chapter 77: Dress Code
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 77: Dress Code
I returned to nine years ago with nothing but a single small suitcase.
Inside that suitcase were my bankbooks and a few very basic pieces of clothing.
A school uniform was not among them. Besides, my original family home had vanished into thin air.
Should I buy a uniform now? Can I even get a name tag embroidered before the last broadcast?
It was obvious that stores wouldn't carry many uniforms in sizes outside the average range. Since the back-to-school season had long passed, they were even less likely to have any stock.
"Alright, guys. Can everyone have a set of clothes ready by this weekend? Seong-bin, Cheong-hyeon, and Gi-yeon, make sure your spare shirts are laundered."
"Yes!"
Everyone answered energetically, but I couldn't open my mouth.
Why on earth do they only announce these urgent matters right before the deadline?
I felt like I was about to start foaming at the mouth.
I mentally calculated which would be faster: hunting down a second-hand uniform or buying a new one.
Then, a faster and more certain method suddenly occurred to me.
You little bastard of a System, get out here right now.
The System popped up immediately.
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[SYSTEM] A work directive from the ‘Person in Charge’ has arrived.
▶ You want a meeting? Assistant Manager Kim, does it really have to be right now?
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Unless you want to see Kim I-wol—the guy you went through all that trouble to debut—dancing in a three-stripe tracksuit on the day of the last broadcast, you’d better cooperate.
Instead of just giving me nonsensical KPIs, this System had been delivering the necessary preparation processes in the form of "tasks."
In other words, the System could be interpreted as something that wouldn't harm my progress toward achieving the KPIs, even if it didn't always seem helpful.
Furthermore, it was operating under the framework of Hanpyeong Industry and Department Head Nam, using rules remarkably similar to labor laws.
If that was the case, I had no choice but to demand what I needed from this "Party A."
Hand over a school uniform.
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[SYSTEM] A work directive from the ‘Person in Charge’ has arrived.
▶ Assistant Manager Kim, is that absolutely necessary for your work? Have you put enough thought into whether there’s a better way?
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Cut the crap. It’s a work essential, so hand it over.
If this were a real company, it would provide the minimum support necessary for an employee to do their job.
Moreover, I was simply asking for the belongings that the System had unilaterally cleared away. There was no way an irrational entity capable of instantly boosting a person's stats couldn't provide a single shabby school uniform.
I might not have anticipated this situation when I signed the contract as Party B, but now that I was living the life of an underdog, I was going to fight for my labor rights.
When there was no immediate reaction from the System, I began to mutter fervently in my head.
I was really going to do my best as an idol, but the System isn't helping... I was even willing to endure the embarrassment of wearing a school uniform at thirty... What a shame...
The System remained silent at first, but its attitude shifted the moment my thoughts reached, If you’re going to work like this, don't expect a paycheck either, you son of a—
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[SYSTEM] A work directive from the ‘Person in Charge’ has arrived.
▶ I’ll give you a list of supplies, so pick from it. Assistant Manager Kim really needs to realize there isn't another company out there that looks after its employees like this. Tsk.
A. A Crisp New Uniform
A brand-new uniform with sharp creases, as if it just came from the shop. Very neat. Name tag not included.
B. Your Uniform
Your actual uniform, with a comfortable fit that feels like it’s been worn for three years. Very realistic. Name tag included.
▶ Report back once you’ve chosen which one to buy. Oh, and don't you dare use it for personal matters outside of work, okay?
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What personal reason would I ever have to wear this?
Thinking about what the fans would see, a new uniform would look better.
However, considering those handsome guys were bringing in their own worn uniforms for the sake of realism, it felt wrong for me to be the only one in a pristine, brand-new outfit.
After closing my eyes and agonizing over the choice, I picked my own uniform. I consoled myself with the thought that I hadn't done much to get it dirty back in my school days, so it should be fine.
Despite its habit of pissing people off, the System was indeed remarkably omnipotent.
It was so efficient that by the time I arrived at the dorm, a familiar non-woven fabric garment bag was already inside my suitcase. It was practically a magic System.
Taking advantage of the moment when Choi Je-ho went to shower and Lee Cheong-hyeon went to study composing, I unzipped the suitcase halfway to check the uniform's condition.
A dark green blazer wrapped around a stark white shirt.
Below that, I saw trousers with a grid pattern of thin red lines.
The colors are truly something else.
It was a uniform truly worthy of its prestigious nickname: "The Walking Green Onion Kimchi."
The thought of dancing among boys in pastel-toned uniforms while dressed in such a spicy outfit made me want to cry. It must be because the green onion kimchi was too pungent.
As expected, the uniform was clean. There weren't even any stains. However...
Kim Han?
A name I didn't recognize was attached to the chest of the blazer. Wait, didn't it say "Your Uniform"?
I even doubted if there had been a kid named Kim Han at my school. I didn't exactly have friends back then.
Since Park Ju-woo had already agreed to just pin a name tag onto a plain knit vest, I figured I could just sneakily swap this one out for a new one.
At that point, I had absolutely no interest in who Kim Han was.
The identity of that faceless classmate, Kim Han, was revealed much sooner than expected.
"Wow. If I’d met you guys in school, I don't think we could have been friends."
"Why say that, Cheong-hyeon? We even did group projects together."
Lee Cheong-hyeon burst out laughing at my words. His laughter was full of mockery.
This little... Do you have any idea who spent all morning ironing your uniform?
The actual high schoolers didn't have much to prepare. Their uniforms were already pretty and well-designed to begin with.
The problem lay with the non-students and those from general humanities high schools.
Park Ju-woo's preparation ended with pinning on a name tag, but unexpectedly, Choi Je-ho—who I thought would be fine once his package arrived—hit a major snag.
When I sent him into the room to try on the uniform, he emerged five minutes later still in his pajamas.
"What are you doing? I told you to put it on."
"It doesn't fit."
"Then at least try the pants."
"They're short. They were already short when I graduated."
While everyone else was studying, Spark’s genius center had apparently been bulking up. His uniform pants had turned into capris.
In the end, Choi Je-ho had to buy a new shirt and trousers in a similar color.
And as for Lee Cheong-hyeon and me...
"Cheong-hyeon, does your school allow alterations?"
"Not a chance. I’ll have to take mine in for now, and then maybe wear the hand-me-down I got as a freshman after the performance, just in case."
"I see. You'll have to take it in a lot this time."
"I don't think you're in any position to talk, Hyung."
I had to watch the stylists dismantle and reconstruct our uniforms right in front of me. I never knew uniform alterations—which for me in school had only ever meant letting out the hem—could be done like this.
While a silent battle was being waged in one corner, Lee Cheong-hyeon approached me.
"It feels weird that it's already the last broadcast."
"Yeah. It’s a bit sad."
Jeong Seong-bin nodded in agreement.
Compared to Spark’s previous debut schedule, the current Spark was handling a significantly busier workload.
Given the difficulties they must be facing, hearing them say that was impressive. Such admirable passion.
I looked at the boys, feeling incredibly proud, and said, "What's there to be sad about? As soon as promotions end, we’re heading straight into meetings for individual self-produced content and live broadcasts."
"Individual self-produced content?"
Kang Gi-yeon asked back, trying—and failing—to hide his reluctance.
"Yeah. Since we mostly move as a group during promotion periods, we need to release a lot of individual content during the hiatus."
"Was that what you were doing every night? Checking references?"
"No, what I was watching at night was monitoring the MV and stage reactions. I’m not smart enough to do two things at once."
I denied it, but I was a bit surprised that Lee Cheong-hyeon naturally used a professional term like "references." Had he picked it up from me?
"...I really think you only ever think about work, Hyung," Park Ju-woo muttered from the side. I bit back the urge to reply that I wished UA would pay me an allowance for it.
"Hey, stop chatting. They say it's almost our turn."
"Yes!"
The members answered Choi Je-ho’s call in unison.
As we began moving backstage, Jeong Seong-bin approached and called out to me in a low voice.
"Hyung."
"Yeah? What is it?"
"We... we’ll be able to finish the last broadcast well, right?"
There was a hint of worry, yet a strong desire for a good finish.
And beneath those complex emotions, I could glimpse a fundamental layer of confidence.
"Yeah. I’ll work hard and try not to make any mistakes, too."
In the end, those were the only words I could offer him.
"Hey, are you seriously still watching idol shows at your age?"
"So what? Stop picking a fight and go play that game you love so much."
A typical conversation between siblings took place in an ordinary living room.
The protagonists were Baek Hae-won, who was waiting for Spark’s turn on a music show, and her older brother, Baek Hae-in, who had come out to get some ice (Hae-won could never understand why this man ate ice all day long).
"Hae-won, you're a high schooler now. You should stop watching this and study. When do you plan on graduating from being a freeloader?"
"Yeah, shut up."
Baek Hae-won replied mechanically without even looking at him.
As far as she knew, the number of days that man had actually studied during his three years of high school could be counted on one hand.
"Hey, is 'Lorail' on today too?"
"Ugh, just get lost! If you keep talking when Spark comes on, I’ll kill you."
As Hae-won bristled with murderous intent, Hae-in shook his head as if he couldn't believe her.
He couldn't understand why his sister insisted on sitting through long commercials just to wait for their turn. Couldn't she just watch the stage videos on MeTube?
What’s so great about idols?
Hae-in shrugged. Just then, Hae-won let out a high-pitched shriek.
"Agh! Seong-bin’s light purple uniform is insane! That fit is freaking legendary!"
The sofa cushion in Hae-won’s hands crumpled like a wet paper cup. Hae-in started to feel a little scared of his sister.
Hae-won’s fangirling didn't stop there.
"Who arranged the parts? Seriously... he’s the master of intros..."
"Ju-woo’s white name tag is so cute... Damn, this should be a crime. Ah, my heart is literally breaking."
"Choi Je-ho, you crazy... you foxy bastard, you absolute..."
Hae-won looked ready to praise every man who appeared on screen until her throat went dry.
They were all handsome, sure, but was it really something to get that excited about?
Just as a puzzled Hae-in was about to leave, Hae-won grabbed him.
"Hey, isn't that your school uniform?"
"What?"
At Hae-won’s words, Hae-in looked at the TV.
"Huh?"
Sure enough, the incredibly drab uniform of his alma mater was right there on the screen.