Chapter 1

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Translator: penny

Chapter: 1

Chapter Title: These Damn Girls

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"I told you to prepare properly!"

An empty water bottle flew toward my head but barely missed.

It clattered across the practice room floor.

The idol with long wavy blonde hair who had thrown it at me—Shin Ye-rin—glared at me sharply.

"Don't you know I have to take care of my throat? Isn't preparing something for me to drink during vocal practice basic common sense?"

'Like you need it.'

Her hysterical outburst had a retort rising in my throat, but I couldn't say it.

Because I was her manager.

Shit.

Novia Entertainment, one of Korea's top three entertainment companies—one that had launched several successful girl groups. Shin Ye-rin was one of them.

Shin Ye-rin, a member of LUNIQUE, the girl group with a pure image and a massive fanbase, was loved by many as the innocent puppy-faced idol.

'Pure, my ass. What a load of bullshit.'

Three years ago, when I first joined Novia Entertainment and became LUNIQUE's manager, I firmly believed a bright future awaited me.

Even as just a manager, landing a job at a major entertainment giant like Novia changed how people looked at me.

But all that envy from those around me congratulating my big-league entry turned out to be for nothing. LUNIQUE was the worst.

To be precise, Shin Ye-rin single-handedly made LUNIQUE the worst.

Shin Ye-rin tousled her straight bangs with one hand. The numerous piercings in her ears peeked through her hair and vanished again.

"Argh, Manager. Seriously. Ugh! You're so slow buying water. And you got the wrong brand of barley tea? It's been three years already—can't you even memorize what your idol drinks? This is a mess, a total mess."

When the hell did you ever tell me the brand, you bitch?

Over three years, you've switched brands at least twenty times, damn it.

"...I'm sorry."

As a salaried worker, I had no choice but to bow my head and apologize amid her hysterics.

And with good reason—Shin Ye-rin, LUNIQUE's main vocalist, hadn't been able to perform a proper live stage for three months due to vocal cord issues, leaving her under extreme stress.

The problem was that she was venting that stress by treating me, her manager, like a punching bag.

'I wanna quit...'

After three years on the job, the urge to resign surged up, but I had nothing else lined up. So I had to endure today too. Shit.

"What the... Haa. Whatever. What's the point of talking. Just go."

Shin Ye-rin waved her hand dismissively in the air, fingers loaded with layered rings.

Three years as a manager, and I knew that gesture meant "We're done—get out."

'Making a living is such a bitch.'

I suppressed my longing to quit and headed for the practice room door when I spotted the other four LUNIQUE members standing against the wall, watching me.

None of them had tried to intervene ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in Shin Ye-rin's outburst. They just pretended not to notice and watched.

Not because they were trash like her, but because, strictly speaking, she held more sway than I did.

Either way, it soured my mood just the same.

One of them, Chae-rin, gave me a furtive look of concern.

The Canadian mixed member with sleek black hair that suited her elegant aura.

The one girl with whom I'd formed a subtle inner closeness that always gave me strength.

But today, even that look failed to lift my spirits.

'Ah.'

LUNIQUE, the epitome of pure beauty girl group idols.

The moment I stepped out of their practice room, I let out a deep sigh.

"They really know how to make me want to quit..."

These damn girls.

After dropping the LUNIQUE members off at their dorm, I grabbed a convenience store lunchbox and canned beer before heading home.

In my barely 5-pyeong studio apartment smack in the middle of Seoul—rent and deposit had been no joke—I chugged the cold canned beer and wolfed down the pre-made lunch.

-Chik!

Gulp, gulp!

"Kaaaah."

With my stomach somewhat filled, the day's events came rushing back.

"...Do I really have to put up with that psycho just to keep managing?"

Shin Ye-rin's hysterics? Fine, whatever. She's an idol who loves performing and lives off her singing, so she can get stressed. I could understand that a hundred times over.

But how long would the other members' indifference last?

Right now, only Shin Ye-rin was shortening my lifespan for free with her bullshit, but later?

'Those four who just watched will jump in for sure.'

This stable job I'd finally landed after thirty years of bouncing between convenience store gigs and day labor was turning into a nightmare because of her.

Commutes felt like being dragged to the slaughterhouse.

I didn't want to go back to unemployment at thirty-three, but enduring it meant I could already picture the crap treatment awaiting me down the line.

And getting dissed by girls way younger than me hurt my pride more than any societal rejection.

Pathetic, but that's how I felt.

"Maybe I should look for another job? ...Huh?"

It was the moment I picked up my smartphone to check Job Heaven.

A clear 'Ding!' sounded, and a bright blue holographic window popped up in front of me.

"...What program? Am I drunk already? I've only had half a can."

And I can hold my liquor pretty well, too?

I blinked at the bizarre phenomenon before me, then tentatively reached out and touched it.

"Whoa. It's actually tangible?"

Tap.

"Ah, pressed it out of habit."

It wasn't a drunken hallucination—the touchscreen system window was real. Seeing the [Yes/No] triggered my old gaming reflexes from childhood, and I hit [Yes] without thinking, advancing to the next screen.

The window expanded again, displaying my profile.

"Showing all sorts of stuff. But an empty slot?"

Controllable Target was listed as just an empty slot.

Curious, I tapped it again, and another window appeared.

"...Huh?"

Shin Ye-rin's name appeared out of nowhere.

I paused to process the situation.

So, some status window popped up from god-knows-where, selected me as a test subject for this 'Trainer Program' system.

And it's telling me to register Shin Ye-rin in a slot that lets me manipulate her status?

More intrigued than scared by the suspicious setup, a strange impulse hit me.

If I register her in this slot, doesn't that mean I can control Shin Ye-rin however I want?

That crazy young bitch?

That thought propelled my hand to tap her name automatically.

Several system windows scrolled up, revealing Shin Ye-rin's full status window.

"...70C?"

She had a nicely curved figure, but no huge tits.

I recalled my ex, who was 80C, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bragging that her chest was bigger than my 75D girlfriend's.

80C had felt impressively large.

70C must mean a perfectly proportioned figure with just a hint of volume.

Tearing my eyes from her captivating physical specs, I checked the rest.

This girl—her inner thoughts, mental analysis, overall eval—it's all a mess.

"No wonder she's been so damn sensitive."

So, I can fix her vocal cords to normal?

I tapped the status window experimentally.

"...This is insane."

I could manipulate an idol's status.

I'd half-doubted it when I touched it, but this power was way more cheat-like than I'd imagined.

"So, I've got a superpower that lets me tweak Shin Ye-rin's status however I want?"

For now, I held off on deleting it.

Couldn't just hand that bitch a free favor.

Once I'd grasped my new superpower, going to work—which had felt like a slaughterhouse—suddenly seemed exciting.

The next day.

I headed to work with steps lighter than any time in the past three years.

'Wasn't a booze-fueled illusion.'

First thing in the morning, I'd checked if the idol status manipulation power was still there.

The superpower remained, and I could still tweak Shin Ye-rin's status freely.

'Part of me wants to tank her vocal skills entirely, but no.'

For someone who vented her stress on others like Shin Ye-rin, stripping her vocals wouldn't satisfy the humiliation I'd endured over the past three months.

So I decided to bide my time for the perfect moment.

Like right now.

"Aaaargh...!"

Shin Ye-rin, practicing high notes in the middle of the practice room, stomped in frustration.

Because the note that should rise wouldn't.

Especially infuriating since it was a part she'd nailed effortlessly before her vocal cord issues.

The other four members chimed in.

"Unnie, you okay? Did you skip your meds today?"

"No, I saw you take them at the dorm earlier."

"Why isn't it getting better? You're taking the meds consistently..."

"What about tomorrow's schedule?"

The members fretted, but their worry wasn't just for Ye-rin.

It was about how her condition might mess up their upcoming event schedule.

Shin Ye-rin glanced at them but couldn't snap back. She couldn't claim she was fine after three months of steady decline.

And right now was my chance.

"Don't worry, everyone. I can recover soon..."

"Ye-rin, have this while you practice."

I cut off her attempt to reassure the members and handed her some green tea.

Ye-rin and the members turned ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to me. She narrowed her eyes into a glare.

"This? Green tea? I told you yesterday I only drink barley tea, and now you're telling me to drink green tea?"

"I'm sorry. But the department head insisted you drink it. Said it's good for your throat..."

"...!"

The words "good for your throat" barely left my mouth before Ye-rin snatched the green tea.

Gulp, gulp!

She downed it in one go and tossed the empty bottle at my feet.

"Jeez. Like green tea's some miracle cure for throats."

Actions speak louder than words, bitch.

'Talk all you want—status windows don't lie.'

I opened her status window with one hand.

Even with the members right there, no one noticed.

Visible only to me, I pulled up Shin Ye-rin's info and manipulated it.