Translator: RaidenTL

Chapter 9: Establishing KPIs (2)

For the past few days, I had been watching for the perfect opportunity to sneak out.

All for the sake of going to a PC bang.

Unaware of my ulterior motives, Kang Gi-yeon kindly offered a small word of encouragement.

"Don't overdo it."

"Yeah. See you tomorrow."

Once I confirmed Gi-yeon had headed up the stairs, I immediately turned on my heel.

I ran toward the main road and hailed the first taxi that came my way.

Normally, I loathe deviance. I’m the type of person who finds it much easier to just do as I'm told.

Anyone would become that way after being cursed at for four hours straight while standing, just for suggesting that non-work-related personal errands were uncomfortable during a 1:1 interview.

But right now, I had no choice. There was something I absolutely had to check.

Before long, the taxi arrived at the entrance of the apartment complex where I had lived with my family before moving out on my own.

Instead of heading into the apartments, I walked toward the commercial buildings for a few minutes until a familiar PC bang appeared.

As soon as I opened the door, the part-timer waved me away, asking if I didn't know that minors weren't allowed in after 10 PM.

If they had seen my dark circles in better lighting, they wouldn't have made such a mistake.

I was only allowed entry after showing my ID to prove I had just turned twenty.

I felt a wave of relief, thinking that if I had returned to a time just one year younger, I wouldn't have been able to set foot in a PC bang or a noraebang.

After taking a seat, the first things I checked were the real estate register for the apartment I used to live in and my own certified copy of the resident register.

These were documents I couldn't view on Lee Cheong-hyeon’s laptop because they required too much personal information and I didn't want to leave a search history.

And I discovered a fact that was surprising, if not particularly pleasant.

Around the same time I had moved into the Spark dorm, the ownership of the apartment had been transferred from my father to a stranger.

In the past, I remembered being the one to cut ties first.

Strangely, in this timeline, it seemed the setting was that my parents had disowned me first.

It didn't really matter. It just meant the timing of distancing myself from my family was earlier than before.

Though, being abandoned in front of an entertainment agency at twenty was a bit pitiful.

Next, I began organizing an asset portfolio on a Google Sheet based on my total net worth of 15 million won.

After setting aside an emergency fund for worst-case scenarios, I calculated minimum living expenses and checked the base amount needed for a housing subscription before deducting it from the balance.

Since my house has vanished, a housing subscription is a must. The remaining money... I should put it into stocks.

In my past life, I had zero interest in stocks.

Thanks to that—or perhaps because of it—the only things I knew were stocks that were already famous or those that were destined to become famous.

The kind of stocks that everyone in the country knew about because they had surged by something like 300%.

Checking the market, I could see several blue-chip stocks sitting at low prices.

Since I hadn't gone to university and was about to eat through my blood-like money, I planned to grow this amount as much as possible to pay my sister back.

I exited a stock discussion board after seeing a post titled "Gamseong Electronics. Will. Go. Up. Eventually." which had a comment saying, "Go wash your feet and go to sleep, old man."

If I knew which stocks were going to be delisted, I’d write a post telling everyone to run away.

But since I didn't know much, all I could do was pray for everyone’s investments to succeed.

Hoping I had made the right choice, I left the PC bang feeling utterly exhausted.

Then, to keep my word about practicing at a noraebang, I sang for about two ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hours before quietly returning to the dorm.

It had been a long day.

If there was one thing I realized every morning, it was that the stamina of a twenty-year-old was incomparable to that of nine years later.

No matter how much I danced or how little I slept the night before, I still had the energy to move when morning came.

So the reason I could work logistics part-time jobs every vacation was because of youth.

Every time I felt my youth returning like this, I felt conflicted.

There was also ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a change in the daily routine.

"Was the practice effective?"

Kang Gi-yeon, who usually only gave a stiff nod when we crossed paths in the morning, offered a proper morning greeting for the first time.

"It was a time to realize I'm not a genius who can achieve vocal mastery in a single day."

"Hyung, did you practice separately again yesterday? Whoa, your dark circles are insane!"

Lee Cheong-hyeon, who had been following behind me, poked his head forward to check my face and made a fuss.

For some reason, the manager, who had come to the dorm early this morning, added a comment from behind.

"Ju-woo can sing a song as soon as he receives it."

"Isn't that just proof that Ju-woo is a genius?"

I immediately played up the member's greatness to the manager.

I thought to myself that being compared to the main vocal first thing in the morning was a bit too harsh.

It was certainly a noisier morning compared to when I lived alone. Still, I felt like I was getting used to mornings spent with others.

Human adaptability is a terrifying thing.

After that, Kang Gi-yeon would occasionally strike up a conversation as we came and went.

From Jeong Seong-bin, who was in the habit of taking care of everyone, to the highly sociable Lee Cheong-hyeon, and even Park Ju-woo, who would quietly appear out of nowhere to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠check my posture or vocals.

The Spark kids were carving out their own rest time to help me with my practice.

Meanwhile, I had to clench my fingers to stop myself from habitually pressing shortcut keys in the air to color-correct their skin tones.

Regardless of how hard I was learning, these kids needed to know how hazardous it was to someone's heart to suddenly pop up beside them like that.

Even Choi Je-ho, who rarely spoke to others, went as far as to say this:

"You're getting close to the kids pretty fast."

It seemed Choi Je-ho had seen me being called over by the members one by one, like a subway line on a loop.

Still, calling that "getting close" was crossing a line. I was grateful for their consideration and kindness, though.

"Me? With the kids?"

"Yeah."

"Isn't it just because they're all nice?"

"I wonder."

Choi Je-ho replied with an ambiguous reaction. He didn't look particularly pleased, no matter how you looked at it.

As if anyone found this situation comfortable.

Giving advice, providing feedback at night, looking after me on the way home.

Considering the goodwill the Spark guys were showing me—the ultimate outlier of UA—it was only right to acknowledge their character and feel grateful.

I had absolutely no desire to build intimacy with them. You guys just be friends with each other.

"It does feel more like a strict teacher and a hopeless student with Gi-yeon, though..."

"So you know you were hopeless."

"Are you looking at that in the past tense for me?"

At my words, Choi Je-ho gave a slight smirk.

This smile was the one fans used to describe as...

‘Please don't misunderstand. Our Je-ho is currently bursting with laughter. He doesn't bite.’

...That was the smile.

If I hadn't known, it would have been impossible to decipher Je-ho's expressions.

Of course, there was something weighing on my mind.

The members being kind was one thing, but me being a free rider was another.

If I wanted to cling to the window of the bus with a dark purpose, I needed more than just effort. At least, if I had a conscience.

Preparing my skills immediately would be best, but realistically, that was impossible.

With even the experience points I was relying on being adjusted, it seemed difficult to raise my stats in an instant.

All that remained was to match and support the guys who had staked their futures on this as much as possible.

In whatever way I could.

Speaking of which, I decided to check with Choi Je-ho first.

"There's something I want to ask."

"What."

"I'm grateful that you guys stop in the middle of group practice for me, but I feel like it's a huge hindrance to you all."

"And?"

"What should I improve on first so that I'm at least less of a burden?"

Then, I felt the four minors nearby staring at me.

I thought I had become sufficiently accustomed to belittling my own incompetence while working under Department Head Nam.

But there was one fact I had overlooked.

This was the first time I had ever openly said, "Yes, I am the dead weight of this area."

It was more embarrassing than I thought. It was an experience that filled me with the motivation to grind and practice.

I’d have to remember this well and have plenty of self-reflection time later while cringing in bed.

As I steeled my resolve, Choi Je-ho asked back.

"What's the intent behind that question?"

Oh, he's being more moderate than I expected.

If it were Choi Je-ho, I thought he’d say something like, "Can you even fix it if I tell you?"

I was well aware of Choi Je-ho's raw and unfiltered quotes.

In the idol world, where a single word can create an army of ten million antis, Choi Je-ho's blunt remarks were perfect for stirring up trouble.

Perhaps he knew that himself, because as the years went by, the frequency of Choi Je-ho opening his mouth on broadcasts had noticeably decreased.

Unfortunately, that led to its own set of attitude controversies—a common vicious cycle.

Since he did his part well and was an elder, there probably wasn't anyone in the team to call him out.

In that sense, "What's the intent behind that question?" was quite mild.

However, the expressions on Kang Gi-yeon and Lee Cheong-hyeon, who were now openly watching us, weren't great. They seemed to think Choi Je-ho's question sounded like he was picking a fight.

They probably understood it as: 'Are you indirectly complaining about feeling pressured even though you joined late?'

Words are strange things. Depending on the context or non-verbal cues, the same words can be interpreted in ten thousand different ways.

If I had heard that while in a twisted state of mind from working all night, I might have glared back, thinking, 'I'm bowing my head because I'm sorry, and you're still not satisfied?'

Even though he wasn't the leader yet, I could see Jeong Seong-bin holding his tongue.

This tiresome seniority system—I’ll have to smash it to pieces sooner or later.

But if I was going to live as an idol, there was no harm in being careful with language.

So, I decided to rephrase Choi Je-ho's question in the way he probably meant to say it.

"You mean, is there a reason I've come to think of myself as a hurdle?"

"...? Yeah."

I knew it. This guy just had a mean way of talking; he wasn't a bad kid.

In the brief silence, Choi Je-ho looked up at me. He seemed to have only just realized the atmosphere around us was strange.

"It's not that there's a specific reason... I just thought about it on my own after hearing about the monthly evaluation."

"..."

"Everyone has prepared longer than me and wants to do well, but the practice keeps getting interrupted because you're teaching me. I felt like that was a nuisance to you guys."

"It's only natural to make mistakes every day. How long has it even been since you became a trainee?"

"Still, it's a hindrance."

"If someone's form collapses just because practice is interrupted a few times, then that's the problem of the person who collapsed."

It was truly a bleak yet unnecessarily kind piece of feedback.

Though, because the conversation flowed this way, the other members couldn't say anything even if they had complaints.

Nothing to be done about it.

I decided to neatly repackage the words of the genius Choi Je-ho, who acted as if his own condition wouldn't be affected in the slightest whether someone else tripped or broke their nose.

"I get your point. Thanks for being honest."

At that, Choi Je-ho flinched.

He had a look on his face that said he realized he'd messed up. Fortunately, he did have some sense.

Choi Je-ho frowned slightly, thinking it over, before finally speaking with difficulty.

"...At least, that's what I think."

The "I" was subtly emphasized. It meant he had no intention of dismissing others' opinions or pointing fingers at anyone.

Glancing sideways, I saw Lee Cheong-hyeon silently mouthing his admiration.

Unlike Choi Je-ho, Lee Cheong-hyeon was incredibly quick-witted.

Just in case, I sent him a signal to take the baton, and Lee Cheong-hyeon approached with a sly smile.

"As if Je-ho hyung meant that in a bad way! I didn't feel anything like that at all!"

He actually took it. At this moment, I was grateful for his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wit.

"I'm just overwhelmingly grateful that you're sharing a room with Je-ho hyung. If not for you, I would've been the only one soaking my pillow with tears every night in that Siberian room."

"Isn't that just an insult to me?"

"Ayy. You know if I really had a grudge, I wouldn't even be able to say this, right, Je-ho hyung?"

Then Lee Cheong-hyeon blew a finger heart at Choi Je-ho. It was a gesture perfectly suited for an idol.

Lee Cheong-hyeon continued, draping an arm over Kang Gi-yeon's shoulder.

"In the first place, if there was something bothering him, this guy would've snapped first. Our Gi-yeon-ssi is the ultimate taskmaster, right?"

"Take your arm off."

"Isn't the class president Seong-bin? Seong-bin always checks the break times."

"Seong-bin hyung isn't a taskmaster; he's more like an angel class president."

That was true. Jeong Seong-bin was kind, after all.

"Still, um, everyone is so good that I couldn't help but worry since I joined so suddenly."

"Do you think you're the only one who became a trainee through street casting? If I worried about that every single time, I wouldn't even finish my own practice."

"Cheong-hyeon is mostly right, hyung. You don't have to worry too much."

"I'm glad if it's not uncomfortable."

Now the only one I was concerned about was Park Ju-woo, who hadn't participated in the conversation once.

I cautiously sought the opinion of the future main vocal, who would contribute to the team with his voice for the rest of his life.

"What about Ju-woo?"

"...Me?"

"Is there anything uncomfortable for you because of me?"

Sorry, Park Ju-woo.

I know you don't particularly like talking to strangers, but for the sake of your own pleasant practice life and a smooth debut, please cooperate...

"There hasn't been a single thing."

"Is... that so?"

"Yes. And everyone knows how hard you're working, hyung..."

"Uh... thanks for saying that."

What a society, so generous to others. It felt so foreign.

It means they don't intend to make it a big deal as long as I don't ruin the practice atmosphere.

The agency's management policy, which focused on autonomous practice, played a part too.

The people here seemed to have no intention of giving me a hard time as long as I didn't become lazy or undisciplined.

So I just have to grind like crazy?

I'd actually welcome that.