Chapter 543
Chapter 543
After the status window appeared.
Cheong-ryeo stood frozen for dozens of seconds, as if he’d been struck by lightning.
Then, he spat out a single word.
"A help menu."
The process that led to this was simple.
His first thought regarding my 'Accepting questions' pop-up had been exactly that.
—What is this?
I counted that as a question.
And my answer to it was this:
—Help Menu.
It was a concise explanation of my function.
There was no way this guy would believe me if I suddenly claimed to be his junior idol from the future…
‘It would only make him more guarded.’
So, I approached him using familiar computer concepts. I almost considered spouting some nonsense about becoming an algorithm thanks to his 100th restart, but I figured that was crossing a line and stopped. Instead… I just said I had manifested naturally.
And now, I intended to answer his follow-up question—asking if I really was a help menu—very kindly.
Like this:
[Of course.]
[I am the help menu that will assist you in resolving your status effects.]
It was total bullshit.
Let’s be real. Suppose I helped this guy and VTIC successfully won the Grand Prize this time.
But in reality, that never happened… and there isn't a single member in the current VTIC who turned a secret hideout into a personal dating nest.
Furthermore, the real Cheong-ryeo I met just moments ago—the one currently serving in the military—said he had never seen a status window in his life.
This meant the original Cheong-ryeo had no memory of meeting me in this form. And…
‘…No matter what I do here, it won’t change what the real Cheong-ryeo has already lived through.’
I had already confirmed this when Keun-dal became Ryu Gun-woo and got hit with the 'Death if Not a Civil Servant' status effect.
The things I did back then as Keun-dal’s status window didn't change my future. Things like reporting Bae Se-jin’s father for drugs or emailing Park Moon-dae’s classmates.
If anything, I simply discovered that I was the one who had resolved those events I’d previously thought were coincidences.
In other words, there was no time paradox.
It was impossible to change the past to affect the future.
So, this place was likely just a virtual memory created by the system, or something similar. Just like the Steer guys.
‘Hmm.’
I felt a bit bitter and clicked my tongue inwardly.
Still, the reason I was trying so hard to stop this guy from restarting right now was…
‘Because of the variables.’
I was currently attached to his mind; who knew what would happen if he restarted?
I needed to preserve the current state as much as possible to grasp the situation and gather information.
‘So, looking at the big picture, me being a "help menu" is just… a scam.’
I never dreamed I’d end up doing something like voice phishing.
But since it was true that I intended to help, it was a win-win.
[As a help menu, I will answer all your questions faithfully.]
And the next part was a plain fact.
[If you utilize my functions, you won't lose out, at the very least.]
It’s true that work is much easier when you have an instruction manual.
And from what I knew, Cheong-ryeo wasn't the type to reject something beneficial.
Though, being the suspicious bastard he was, I’d likely be subjected to an overwhelming amount of questions and experiments.
‘Well? What do you think?’
I finished my preparations and waited for his response.
“…….”
Cheong-ryeo stared at the pop-up I’d displayed, standing perfectly still without a hint of agitation.
Then, he broke into a thin smile.
“Fine.”
I pressed a hand to my forehead.
This bastard is just pretending to believe me.
The pop-up poured out text.
[I can show you the members' statuses.]
[You can check them right now.]
Cheong-ryeo didn't respond.
In the dorm's living room, he only saw the coat of one member who had fallen asleep fiddling with a game console with a gloomy expression, and the coats of two others who had gone to the practice room.
Then, another pop-up appeared.
[I can also check traits and potential values.]
Cheong-ryeo didn't react and walked out of the dorm as if nothing were wrong.
[Not just the current members, but anyone you meet—]
“You’re being excessive.”
The text in the pop-up stopped.
“If you’re a help menu, you should only appear when I call you.”
The hologram remained silent for a moment, as if calculating.
Then, a submissive answer appeared.
[Understood.]
Cheong-ryeo started his car.
After arriving at his desired location, he continued walking until he reached his destination.
It was the rooftop of the building he had climbed yesterday.
And exactly as he had planned, he leaned his body over the railing…
[Wait.]
[Hey.]
[You crazy bastard.]
[I told you there’s no need to restart.]
The moment he leaned against the railing, the pop-ups went wild.
[You have more than enough time—]
“Are you trying to persuade me?”
[ ]
The text stopped.
Cheong-ryeo leaned against the railing and laced his fingers together.
“And you call yourself a help menu.”
The pop-up froze as if startled.
Cheong-ryeo watched the sight slowly, as if exploring it.
Then, he adjusted his gloves and looked down from the roof.
“I don’t think so.”
He calculated with a cold head.
Something that suddenly appeared, offering structured, kind, and verbalized help like a computer operating system.
And it appeared exactly when he had experienced enough restarts to find such an offer incredibly tempting.
As if it were looking for prey.
That thing was an intelligent entity with its own will.
And through the process so far, one thing had been proven for certain.
Cheong-ryeo smiled thinly.
“It would be inconvenient for you if I restarted.”
Even so, the pop-up displayed text as if it had been prepared.
[Because using me increases your chances of success this time. And even if it doesn't work out, it'll be like it never happened once you restart.]
[You have nothing to lose.]
Cheong-ryeo didn't respond for a moment.
The cold dawn air swirled around the rooftop.
And then.
“Haha.”
A laugh rang out.
“Increases the chances, you say.”
Cheong-ryeo laughed and turned his upper body, putting his back to the railing.
Then, he began to speak as if talking to himself.
“What do you think is the most fatal thing about a dating scandal?”
[…….]
“It’s that it’s not a crime.”
He continued answering his own question.
“It’s a matter of moral resentment… The problem is that the general public, who aren't fans, can't empathize with that.”
—They put all these handsome men and beautiful women together, of course they’re going to date. Is there even a top-tier visual who doesn't date at that age? lol
“Then what do the fans do?”
There was no pop-up.
Cheong-ryeo spoke comfortably to the empty air.
“They’ll go find other controversies involving that member.”
From skill controversies to school violence and bullying within the group.
They will passionately pour their time into unearthing any flaw the public can empathize with to create a convincing narrative.
Because they loved the idol so much and knew them so well, they could create the most effective and appropriate controversies.
All for a reason to get revenge, a justifiable cause to match their sense of betrayal.
—Fans turned antis.
“Conventionally, you could put it that way.”
Cheong-ryeo continued with a smile.
“But even if I make that member leave the group voluntarily, the risk doesn't disappear.”
Among the individual fans of the member involved in the dating scandal, there would still be a small number who support them, and they would develop a grudge against the group itself.
—Kicking them out just for a dating scandal? Seriously, idols have no human rights, fck.*
—Wow, what is this, the eighties?
This was especially dangerous for VTIC’s current position, where international fans made up a large portion of their base. Among international fans, it was common for people to dislike the very idea of making an idol's dating life a controversy.
Of course, Cheong-ryeo had the ability to frame things well and minimize the risk.
But it would undoubtedly take time.
“Hmm, it would take at least half a year for public opinion to settle. Even if we minimize losses by touring during that time…”
His gloved fingers tapped the railing as if weighing the calculations.
Tap, tap.
Then they stopped.
“The earliest chance for a comeback is June.”
Just once.
The only comeback that would significantly reflect on that year's performance would be that one time.
“The probability of winning the Grand Prize with a single promotion after a long hiatus caused by a fatal controversy.”
Cheong-ryeo demanded of the pop-up.
“Give me an answer.”
‘…….’
“When I have the option to just restart and exclude that member.”
Cheong-ryeo smiled and adjusted his gloves.
Then, lacing his fingers again, he asked.
“Why should I invest 359 days' worth of time value into such a slim probability?”
‘…….’
“Explain.”
Park Moon-dae thought:
I’m screwed.
Park Moon-dae gave up on the 'Help Menu' act.
This bastard didn't believe it anyway.
Instead, he answered Cheong-ryeo with a moderate amount of honesty.
[Actually, I succeeded in my missions thanks to someone who became a help menu like this for me. This time, I’ve become the help menu myself.]
“I see.”
Naturally, Cheong-ryeo still didn't seem to believe him. If anything, he didn't even seem interested in asking how such a thing was possible.
‘Fck.’*
So, Park Moon-dae decided to take the easiest path.
Spoilers using future knowledge.
[I know what kind of songs will be popular after this, and what kind of concepts will do well.]
[If you know that, 359 days should be worth the investment.]
Cheong-ryeo was clear about that.
“Keep talking.”
[Only if you promise not to press that button.]
“…….”
Naturally, what Park Moon-dae was referring to was the 'Delete Status Window' button floating right next to him.
Cheong-ryeo was silent for a moment, but soon answered calmly.
“Fine.”
Park Moon-dae didn't fall for it.
[Don't just give me lip service. Mean it.]
To his eyes, it looked like Cheong-ryeo’s eyebrow twitched for a split second.
However, his answer remained calm.
“Sure.”
As long as you keep giving useful answers.
Park Moon-dae, who could even hear the thoughts omitted after that, let out a groan, but there was no one to see it.
The same went for Cheong-ryeo.
Instead, he quickly organized the genres, singers, and composers mentioned by the self-proclaimed 'Help Menu' in his head.
It was a fairly plausible portfolio.
But.
“The evidence?”
[I don't think you'd believe me even if I told you.]
“Hmm.”
Cheong-ryeo’s gaze shifted.
[!Unidentified Error Occurred]
[Would you like to remove the Status Window (■■■)?]
‘This son of a bitch.’
Receiving the message that he’d be deleted if he didn't answer properly, Park Moon-dae finally gave a straight answer.
[I’m from the future. Happy now?]
“Oh?”
[I’m your successor.]
It was an unrealistic story, but it had plausibility. Since he himself was someone who could go back to the past and restart.
And there was a meaning implied by that explanation from the self-proclaimed 'Help Menu'.
“So I succeeded.”
Namely, that he would succeed one day.
Because having a successor meant that his restarts would eventually come to an end.
‘Hmm.’
However, Cheong-ryeo wasn't particularly moved by that fact. Fundamentally, he didn't trust the sentences of that help menu.
Besides, if you try anything repeatedly, you’re bound to succeed eventually.
In fact, he had already reached a state where 'VTIC’s success' itself was very stably patterned, even dozens of restarts ago.
The only problems were the timing of various status effects and the member composition.
Naturally, this was also a problem that would be solved if he tried a few more cases.
[…….]
The pop-up didn't answer directly, but it conceded indirectly.
[I can tell you which members you chose back then.]
Cheong-ryeo answered with a smile.
“I didn't ask.”
The unproven 'Help Menu's' sweet talk was trying to cross the line.
The pop-up stopped immediately.
[Fine.]
But Cheong-ryeo guessed that it was quite annoyed.
Of course, the pop-up was just text and had no face, so there was almost nothing he could read from it.
‘It’s a bit bothersome.’
As if reading that surface thought, the pop-up appeared slightly sullenly.
[Do I need to add emojis or something?]
“No.”
He wanted to scrape out information the other party didn't intend to express; he didn't want to see useless emotional expressions.
Having finished the conversation, Cheong-ryeo stood up.
His mind was organized.
Regarding this self-proclaimed help menu:
He had confirmed all three.
And the most important thing to verify remained.
[Where are you going?]
“To try using you.”
Now was the time to start checking the 'provable' utility.
I—or more accurately, Cheong-ryeo, whom I’m attached to as a status window—am currently at his agency.
Specifically, on the floor where the trainees gather.
“A bit weak! Again!”
“Yes!”
A few popular songs from this era, and VTIC songs with slightly different arrangements than the ones I knew, leaked out every time a vocal practice room door opened.
“Hello!”
“Hello, sunbaenim!”
And while he received greetings filled with respect and awe from the kids he made eye contact with…
‘Next.’
…He was demanding their statuses from me.
Mainly only those who were 20 or older.
And I guessed his intention.
This bastard was just collecting information to use in his next restart…
If they were 20 or older now, they’d be in their late teens when he went back, so of course he could use them.
And if there was one more purpose…
‘He’s trying to verify my functions.’
Looking at him through the status window now, this guy already had the 'Appraisal' trait.
[Appraisal (S)]
: Valuable things are rare, and trash is everywhere.
- Human resource judgment +180%
So, he probably intended to compare his own judgment with the stats I showed him to check if this 'Help Menu' bastard was distorting any information.
Since I didn't know exactly which kids he had picked to debut in the past…
‘Wait.’
I looked at his Appraisal trait again.
There was a difference… from what I knew.
[Appraisal (S)]
: Valuable things are rare, and trash is everywhere.
- Human resource judgment +180%
The rank was S.
‘This doesn't make sense.’
Because in reality, Cheong-ryeo’s trait was A-rank.
But why was the trait rank S here, in what was presumed to be his past?
‘That’s definitely not the kind of trait that would degrade from repeating restarts, is it?’
I stared at his status window in doubt for a moment, but something else caught my eye outside.
Creeak.
“Whew.”
There. The guy coming out of the vocal practice room while drying his hair… was someone I knew.
‘It’s Ju-dan.’
He was a familiar VTIC member.
It seemed this Cheong-ryeo hadn't put Ju-dan in the team yet, and because he was young, he was still a trainee at this company.
‘Hmm.’
I asked Cheong-ryeo.
[Shall we do that guy next?]
I was a bit curious about what kind of evaluation he would give…
“No.”
‘…….’
[Why?]
“I’m not going to use him.”
Cheong-ryeo lightly touched his chin.
‘His actions lack consistency, and he often acts out depending on the team composition. If the output isn't constant, he’s not a good resource.’
[…….]
“Next.”
Right, well… thoughts are free.
I willingly pulled up the status window of another guy across the window.
But Cheong-ryeo’s words didn't end there.
“And I believe I told you not to make suggestions unless I ask.”
He naturally shifted his gaze again.
[!Unidentified Error Occurred]
[Would you like to remove the Status Window (■■■)?]
‘…….’
“You’ll remember now, won't you?”
You son of a bitch.
And so, the hellish cohabitation began.