Strawberry Mochi
"Wow… so Joohee was the one who sniped her."
Lee Hayeon, who had sat through the interviews alongside Namgung Joohee, murmured the words before she could stop herself.
Honestly, her surprise was hardly unreasonable. No one could have imagined that the sniper who had appeared like a comet a week ago would turn out to be a girl this adorable. And the idea that said sniper would boldly show up at Gemma's own interview hall? Even less so.
She's got some serious guts… She didn't flinch once earlier, either.
Anyone else might have looked at her with contempt. But in Hayeon's eyes right now, there was only admiration. That was thanks to the throat lozenge Namgung Joohee had brought along — people always feel a special fondness for someone who helps them in a difficult moment. Especially someone like Hayeon, who had grown up without ever knowing real hardship.
Lee Hayeon, daughter of Eunha Group Chairman Lee Seongsik. Unlike most chaebol daughters, she had been showered with her parents' love and could get her hands on anything she wanted. If Namgung Joohee had seen her, she probably would have said something like, Shouldn't people like this be legally banned from streaming?
But even Hayeon was only human, and she had her share of inferiority complexes. Chief among them: she had never accomplished anything on her own.
Having achieved nothing at twenty-one might seem perfectly natural, but to Hayeon it wasn't. The sons and daughters of other chaebol families all had impressive credentials built through rigorous education. Even her own younger siblings attended a foreign language high school and a science high school respectively — so as a regular high school graduate, a creeping sense of inadequacy was inevitable.
Then the Starlight VTuber Project caught her eye. A recruitment notice had gone up on Gemma's YouTube channel, one she watched regularly.
Hayeon applied to the Starlight Project with real ambition this time, determined to accomplish something herself. She stayed up night after night studying other streamers' broadcasts and even asked an AI for expected interview questions. The result: she developed interview skills roughly on par with an ordinary new graduate. If her looks could factor into the Starlight Project evaluation, acceptance would have been all but guaranteed.
The problem was that Hayeon was extremely, extremely bad under pressure. The moment she stepped into the interview room, the trembling wouldn't stop and her mind went completely blank. If no one had helped her, she would have sat there with tears streaming down her face — and probably walked into the interview looking like a ghost with her makeup completely ruined.
You look really nervous. That won't help you even if you know the answers. Here — have a throat lozenge and try to calm down.
The person who helped her then was Namgung Joohee. A girl beautiful enough to be a child actress. In a perfectly fitted suit, she was so cute that Hayeon nearly blurted out "Adorable!" without thinking.
But the air about her was thoroughly adult. The composure to approach a stranger first and offer a throat lozenge to someone shaking with nerves — that kind of ease was rare even in Hayeon's personal lawyer, Lee Serin.
If we both get in, we'll be coworkers, right?
And then that one line that struck Hayeon right in the chest. Coworkers. Coworkers. She was about to accomplish something on her own for the first time, and if she also got a reliable colleague like Namgung Joohee out of it, nothing could be better. Plus she was cute.
If Hayeon had her way, she would have sat Namgung Joohee on her lap and squished those soft, rice-cake cheeks all day long.
"Yes, then I'll see you again after the interviews are over."
While Hayeon was lost in these thoughts, a calm reply came from Namgung Joohee's direction. As expected, Joohee had a composure and presence that Hayeon simply didn't possess — even if she looked years younger.
"Understood. You did well in your interview too, Hayeon. We'll notify you of the results as soon as possible."
"Huh? Oh? Yes, yes! Understood! Thank you for today!"
"Thank you for your time."
And just like that, Hayeon's eventful interview came to an end. She had been terribly nervous, but thanks to Namgung Joohee she had managed to show Gemma everything she prepared. Joohee's well-timed cough mid-interview, which broke the flow at a critical moment, had been especially helpful — and even if it hadn't been intentional, Hayeon felt grateful for that, too.
…Alright.
But she still had her fists clenched tight, her expression set with resolve. Hayeon still had something left to do.
Everyone wants to be rewarded for their good deeds. Honestly, if you donate anonymously and then someone tips off the press and your kindness gets publicized, it feels pretty good, right? I, too, was confident I could graciously accept anyone's thanks.
Or rather — I had been confident.
"Thank you so much!! I was able to do well in the interview because of you, Joohee!"
"……."
But receiving gratitude at full volume with every other interviewee still present was a rather awkward situation. My head was bobbing like one of those balloon dolls outside a gas station — this felt less like a thank-you and more like a public execution.
"Really! You're my lifesaver, Joohee!"
"Please… please stop."
"I mean it!"
"I get it, okay…."
I managed to calm Lee Hayeon down somehow. Even as I did, the other applicants' eyes were locked on the two of us — so at least we'd made a solid impression, for better or worse.
"Um… would it be okay if we exchanged numbers?"
Apparently reluctant to just walk away, Hayeon carefully held out her phone. I'd nearly had my throat cut by a woman before, but this was the first time one had asked for my number. I cheerfully gave it to her.
"Thank you!"
"If you're grateful, maybe try lowering your voice a little?"
"Yes! I'll work hard at lowering my voice!"
"Oh, for crying out loud."
If I'd still been a man and Hayeon had asked for my number, the corners of my mouth would have shot up into the dumbest grin imaginable. But right now, I felt nothing. The emotion in Hayeon's eyes was half admiration, half the urge to coo over something cute.
A twenty-nine-year-old man getting flattered by a look like that from a girl? Instant disqualification as a man. How on earth did the "Nono Nadenade TS" genre ever get popular? Getting treated like something adorable by girls is just embarrassing and humiliating, isn't it?
"I'll text you! You have to reply, okay?"
"Yes. Take care."
"You have to! You have to!"
"Yes."
I sent Hayeon off and simultaneously dumped the absurd notion of "Nono Nadenade TS" into my brain's trash bin. The real issue was why Gemma had asked to see me separately after the interviews.
At least she didn't seem to find me unpleasant or dislike me. If she had, she could have just sent a rejection text from a safe distance. She must have taken a strong interest in one of three things — my affinity-building stunt, my application video, or the interview itself. Or all three.
I should take that as a positive sign, right? Even in the worst case — if Gemma had kept me behind just to reject me in person — at least I'd been given a final chance to make my case.
I watched the dwindling pool of interviewees and ran through expected Q&A. Over the past few days of watching Gemma's YouTube and VODs, I'd gotten a decent read on her personality. She was hot-tempered by nature, but she wasn't the type to snub capable people. If anything, she'd aggressively recruited streamers with personality issues and grown the company that way — a pure meritocrat who would overlook most flaws as long as the talent was solid. And there was no way she'd pass on someone as perfect in both character and skill as me.
"Namgung Joohee?"
While I was turning it over in my head, the long stretch of interviews seemed to have finally ended. The woman who had been desperately holding back laughter beside Gemma earlier called out to me from across the room. Team Leader Yang Shinhye, was it? Glasses, deadpan expression — memorable enough. Still no idea what she'd found so funny earlier.
"Yes. Should I go in?"
"One moment."
Team Leader Yang Shinhye stared at me intently.
"Unexpected. I thought you'd be interesting, Namgung Joohee, but I never imagined you'd be such a cute girl."
"Excuse me? Out of nowhere?"
"The narrative is delicious… The true identity of the villain who sniped the CEO turns out to be an adorable young woman? With a title like that, the YouTube views would practically print themselves…."
"Um, hello?"
Yang Shinhye looked me over like some rare specimen, even went so far as to rest a hand on my head and stroke it, and only then nodded.
"The CEO is waiting for you inside."
What a strange person. As a rule, to converse with a strange person, you have to become a little strange yourself. Didn't Nietzsche say something like that? If you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss also gazes into you. I didn't bother answering and quietly followed her.
……Huh?
I'd assumed we were heading back to the interview room from earlier, but Team Leader Yang Shinhye walked straight past it. She led me to the elevator and pressed the button for basement level three.
"We're going underground?"
"Yes. Sharon Creative has excellent basement facilities."
Ah. I see. Companies these days must make full use of their basements so no space goes to waste. Fair enough — Seoul real estate prices being what they are. I felt no particular sense of wrongness as I descended into the increasingly gloomy basement.
Creeeak…
With an eerie groan, the basement door opened, and there was Gemma, staring at a blackboard with a solemn expression. Despite being thirty-four, she clearly took good care of herself — not a single wrinkle on her face. Her gank coordination and counter-gank instincts left something to be desired, but her looks and ability as a CEO were genuinely worth emulating. That said — what was written on the blackboard?
Virtue rewarded, evil punished… karma?
"……."
Something was wrong. Instinct etched into my genes at the cellular level spun my body around on its own. Come to think of it, wasn't this a little weird? What company keeps an interviewee behind and then summons them to basement level three?
Click.
"Wh-what the hell!"
But I couldn't get out of the basement. Judging by the situation, Yang Shinhye — who'd been with me — had shut the door. The terrifying part was that I hadn't sensed her presence at all. Was this genre not Nono Nadenade TS after all, but horror?
Click. Click. Click.
"Hey! Yang Shinhye! The door's locked! Open this!"
I denied reality and twisted the doorknob furiously, but it seemed already locked from the outside — the door showed no sign of budging. Oh, come on, this isn't funny was the only thought that came to mind. And then, from behind me — click, click — the sound of heels, and a cold sweat slid down my cheek.
"U-um… CEO?"
According to her wiki, Gemma was already over 170 centimeters tall. Add high heels to that already imposing height, and her face looked even more terrifying. My heart was pounding, but even a stray dog could tell it had nothing to do with love.
"C-can we talk this out?"
"Talk… talking is good."
"Right? We're civilized people of the twenty-first century, so… uh?"
"But you've already crossed a line that talking can't fix."
I played my final card — negotiation — but it didn't land at all with an agitated Gemma. Instead, a light pain bloomed across my cheeks. Gemma had pinched both of them between her index fingers and thumbs. And then…
"Aaaagh!! My cheekth are thtretching!!"
"Die! Die, you little—! You sniped me like that and then had the nerve to show up here?!"
"It hurts! My cheekth—my cheekth are going to tear off!!"
"That's the ideaaaa!!! Today, one of us dies!!"
I spent a long, long time with my cheeks pinched in Gemma's grip. Literally a long time.
