Chapter 134: Approach (1)

The sweltering heat faded away.

Weeeeng— weeeeng—

The air conditioner quickly cooled the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠room. I brought up the conversation I'd had with noona earlier and decided to dive deeper into it.

"Where are you thinking of setting up the academy?"

"Around here, there's no real demand. Only trainees from the company pass by."

"So somewhere a bit farther out, then."

"Yeah."

"I'm all for cheering you on opening the academy, but thinking about not seeing you around the company anymore makes me feel seriously bummed out."

"Hehe, no more thrilling quickies from now on."

We'd always been on edge about getting caught by someone, but that very tension had excited us. Honestly, looking back now, I couldn't fathom what bold spirit had possessed me to pull off such reckless stunts. If we'd been caught, how the hell would I have cleaned it up?

'Was there something in the shop for erasing memories with coins?'

I should stock up on one for emergencies. Jot it down in the memo app later.

"But what are you up to right now?"

"Making a song."

"...Out of nowhere?"

Ever since that burst of inspiration hit, I'd been keeping staff paper in my bag, figuring it could strike anytime. And now I was reaping the benefits. My body had cooled just enough, so I sat up, pulled out the staff paper from my bag, and started jotting down the melody that had echoed in my ear.

If I sent this to Ahyun, she'd turn it into a killer track.

"People around me have called me a genius, but I never really thought much of it—just 'eh, maybe.' Lately, though, I'm starting to believe it. Songs pop into my head out of the blue like this sometimes."

"You used to compose before?"

"Ahyun's learning composition, so to chat with her about it, I figured I should pick up some basics too."

"Can ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I take a look?"

"Of course. We're co-composers now. I don't know MIDI software, so I scribble melodies like this on staff paper when they hit, and she turns them into full tracks. She arranges any parts that need tweaking too."

"Co-composers? I've never heard anyone at the company mention you composing."

"No need to tell the company. I'm signed as an artist, not a composer."

"Fair point."

There was no reason to tip off the company about my songs. They had zero claim to anything that came out of my head. If the agency ever made a fuss later, asking if I'd learned from a company trainer, I'd just ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠point out I'd already paid for lessons with my earnings from activities.

"Hmm~♪ Hm~♪ Hmm~ Hm~♬♩"

Boksun noona hummed along to the notes on the staff paper. Hearing it in her voice made it sound pretty catchy.

'Come to think of it, should I give this to Jun? It suits his vibe.'

The track I'd just whipped up matched the genre of artists he said he liked.

"What is it? It's lame?"

"How could this be lame! Are you nuts? You just came up with this song on the spot?"

"To be precise, it hit me while I was cumming inside you, noona."

"...You're a total lunatic."

"Heh."

But this lunatic happened to be a genius.

"That's why they say talent and personality are inversely proportional. You're the poster boy."

"I'm a bad guy?!"

I thought I was living pretty decently, all things considered.

"You think you're normal?"

"Completely."

It's not for nothing that power corrupts. Once you have it, you crave using it, wielding it. But even with my special abilities, I'd never used them to step on or crush anyone.

'I'm basically a saint.'

I was confident I could pull off all sorts of evil deeds in this world if I wanted. It wasn't just superhuman powers—it let me buy anything with coins. Even if I killed someone, I could turn it into a perfect crime via the shop.

But I had no intention of going that route.

'Okay, not zero temptation, but I never acted on it. That counts as good, right?'

Early on, I'd toyed with the idea. Like turning invisible to peep in women's baths or whatever. The possibilities were endless, and the temptations huge. Change faces, commit crimes, switch back—who'd pin it on me? A ghost?

What stopped me was my satisfaction with my current life... and Poni.

'If I went rogue, would that thing have let me slide like this? It'd be smugly meddling nonstop.'

Poni might've been waiting for me to slip up. Blackmail material for forcing impregnations—its biggest KPI.

'It doesn't give a damn about human lives, so it'd figure knocking off a few for multiple pregnancies is a net win.'

With that "trolling" pretext, I couldn't ignore Poni's pressure either.

"This isn't the first time, actually."

"You mean pulling songs out of thin air like this?"

"Yeah. Same thing happened during sex with Ahyun. That's why we teamed up as co-composers right away."

"......"

Boksun noona sighed heavily and tossed the staff paper back at me.

"You're a lunatic, sure, but it hits me how the talents everyone knows are just the tip of the iceberg. How far are you planning to hide this stuff?"

"No chance to show it off yet, that's all. Not hiding."

I still had plenty more to reveal. I could pick up painting and go pro-level, dominate any sport. Give me a few days' practice now, and it's done. A life without effort. Special.

The price? Spreading my seed across this world.

"What else can you do?"

Boksun noona started grilling me, determined to map out my talents today. My answer was simple.

"All or nothing."

Everything, or absolutely zilch. Perfectly summed me up.

'Ugh, that's pricey as hell.'

I'd bought it thinking it'd be handy for crises, but unless shit really hit the fan, no way I'd touch it. Too damn expensive.

"Hello."

King of Mask Singer.

I'd come to the broadcasting station to craft my special mask. As soon as I stepped in, the staff—clearly writers—turned their gazes on me in unison. They must've been waiting.

Broadcasting stations were 'female-dominated workplaces.' Male employees barely scraped 20. The ones calling the shots were all women.

It wasn't discrimination causing the imbalance.

'This industry's too brutal for guys to stick it out.'

Men had plenty of easier ways to make a living without grinding at a station. The 20 guys sticking around loved the work and fit it perfectly. Otherwise, impossible to endure.

"Jin Haesol-ssi?"

"Yes."

"Come on in."

"They said he looks insane in person, and damn, he does."

"Eye candy jackpot today."

"Right this way!"

"Have a seat here."

Everyone welcomed me warmly inside. But these were broadcast staff—smiling while blatantly ogling.

"Thanks for having me."

"I've always hoped for a spot like this."

"Not just Haesol, but all the Airplane members are seriously talented."

Manager noona chimed in smoothly, backing me up. The writers' vibe was great.

"Seeing Haesol-ssi makes me sure the others are top-notch too. Bring them on next time if you get the chance."

"Haha! We'll be waiting anytime."

"Haesol-ssi, thought about a nickname yet?"

"Uh... not really."

"No pressure. Pick from these candidates if you want. Honestly, we'd prefer that—masks for these concepts are ready."

A paper listing various nicknames scrolled down. Some were crossed out in red.

"These are taken, right?"

"Yes."

"Kinda prince-heavy, huh."

"Suits you perfectly."

"......"

"Especially this one. Personally, I think it'd be perfect."

I checked where the writer pointed.

[White-Haired Prince on Black Horse]

Prince again.

"Your web drama blew up. Netizens will link 'prince' straight to you. Hints like this make it fun for viewers to guess. And selfishly, I'd love to see Haesol-ssi as the White-Haired Prince on Black Horse. Total fan bias."

White-Haired Prince on Black Horse. Picking that meant going blonde. I'd seen a singer with a similar nickname forced to wear a toy horse on their belt to stick to the concept.

"Prince is cool, white hair's fine, but black horse? You tie a black toy horse plush to my waist?"

"If that's a no, we have horse bikes too. You could ride out on one."

No real horses, so quick Plan B from the writer.

"You mean kids' bikes?"

"Hehe. Whatever horse you want, we'll make it happen."

Broadcast folks were all the same. Manager noona's face soured just like that.

"We'll prep a top-tier wig instead. Something princely and stylish."

"Can we pick the design?"

"Absolutely! We can tweak it. Sketch your ideal mask if you have one."

Sketch my own mask? My eyes lit up.

"Got paper and a pen?"

"...You're really drawing?"

"I'll check your samples first, then add or tweak as needed."

Talent pays off. Diving into samples for serious mask selection, I spotted plenty of flaws.

My art skill sat at 47%. But it wasn't fully ingrained yet. I'd pumped the stat without practice, so even at over 40%, my drawings had rough edges. Needed effort to match the stat.

Scratch— scratch scratch scratch—

"Whoa, Haesol-ssi, you draw amazingly!!"

"You draw too?!"

Manager noona jolted at my sudden skill reveal.