Status Window Unlocked
Was this what people called reincarnation? Or possession? Or maybe regression? The whole “reincarnate-possess-regress” trope my army buddy used to chatter about nonstop while reading web novels every free moment of personal maintenance suddenly felt vividly real again.
“So what I’m saying is, we—no, I—will take full responsibility and roll out the red carpet all the way to a successful debut. I can firmly promise you that. Ah, but of course you’d want a concrete plan, right? Which brings me to this: our agency is producing a commercial for an upcoming project. Would you be interested?”
The moment I snapped back to myself and realized I was buried in the soft sofa of a cozy office, the feeling was… something else.
Judging by eye level, I was clearly much taller than her, yet she had dragged me here like a scrap of paper. A bulldozer in human form. Someone once said the quiet mad ones were the scariest of all. They were right.
But I couldn’t keep zoning out forever with a person sitting right in front of me. When I accepted the neatly extended documents under her kind smile, a familiar logo stared back. What are you doing here?
“Idol Survival?”
“Ah, yes! It’s still just a working title, but they said they’re going for something that straightforward and intuitive. Did you already know about it? Not much has been released yet, so you must have an interest in this industry, right? Well, of course—keeping a face like that hidden from the world would be far too cruel to everyone else. Anyway, this show is extremely hot among people in the business. They’re putting a lot of preparation into it.”
They’re practically pouring money into it, she murmured with a bright voice.
“You might already know, but they’re connecting it with that OTT service and planning a truly massive audition. Their approach is so aggressive that plenty of people are still skeptical, but I’m certain. This program is going to explode. I can guarantee it.”
OTT… I’d heard that somewhere. My puzzled expression must have shown, because she kindly continued explaining.
“Think of it like the original content Netflix produces. We’ve received quite a few materials related to the promotional work, and they’re substantial.”
She added that she couldn’t share details yet because of confidentiality, but she was certain it would be an excellent opportunity for me. Her voice was so clear it manufactured trust out of thin air.
“Anyway, what I’m proposing is that you sign with our company and participate in producing the promotional materials for this program. As far as I know, several studios have been commissioned for the video work… We’ll have to produce a few versions, of course, but if you appear in them, I’m absolutely sure yours will be the main one. Once the audition starts, you’ll be seeing this everywhere. There’s no better way to get your face out there.”
Before I knew it, a portfolio neatly summarizing the achievements of the studio their company ran had been pressed into my hands.
As I flipped through the work the studio had handled, our eyes met and words poured out of her as if she’d been waiting for exactly that moment.
“As you know, the whole point of the audition is to discover new stars who can follow in Vesta’s footsteps, so we’re just going to hitch a little ride on that intention. With a face like yours, even three seconds of screen time would make you famous. Have you heard of K-plus? For a platform that hasn’t been around long, its growth lately has been insane. K Holdings is famous for having deep pockets, after all. Anyway, this program has an exclusive contract with K-plus, and they’re probably going to push it as their flagship.”
Throughout her pitch, various metrics and charts kept materializing as if from nowhere, all beautifully organized.
“It’s like they’re determined to show off the taste of capital—lately they’ve been snatching up only the juiciest dramas and movies, and K-plus has grown a lot. And it’s not just domestic. If you look at these numbers, the influx of foreign viewers interested in Korean content has been quite smooth. The overseas response is solid.”
Just as she said, the graph of overseas subscribers was clearly trending upward. The slope over the last few weeks was especially steep.
“K-plus is going to throw everything into gathering subscribers and expanding the market in earnest, and this program will serve as the vanguard. In a good way, that means they’re going to advertise this show absolutely everywhere. So if we hitch a ride properly, it will be a truly excellent chance to make a name for yourself across every platform. I can guarantee that.”
This woman had definitely been the presentation lead back in college. She gave off the intense vibe of someone who had steamrolled through brutal group projects and walked away with nothing but A-pluses.
In short, a rising streaming platform was producing a program that looked like it would succeed, so why not dip a toe in and boost my name value a little…
“Of course, with a face like yours you’d become famous one way or another even without this opportunity, but if we’re going to do it, we might as well make it easier and faster. I’m certain the program will succeed, so if we carefully weave you into an ad slogan that foreshadows the birth of a new star… the more the ads are exposed, the more your face will become a topic of conversation right alongside them. Once people start going crazy wondering who you are, we drop the pictorials we’ve prepared in advance—boom! Just imagining it makes me feel healthy and happy. At that point work will pour in and you can pick and choose whatever you want. Speaking of which, may I ask which direction you’re thinking of taking your career? Whether it’s modeling or acting, I can promise to support you as much as possible in the direction you want.”
I listened, slightly overwhelmed by the unbroken torrent of explanations and ambitions.
To suddenly offer such a precious opportunity—one that would be desperate and heartfelt for someone else—to a complete novice who had proven nothing…
It was amazing. And I was grateful.
But as sorry as I felt toward this person passionately laying out such a wonderful chance, I simply couldn’t find any sense of reality.
All because of that familiar status window floating above her youthful face, which had flushed rosy from the endless PR without a moment to breathe, and which showed no sign of disappearing.
“…An idol.”
“Pardon?”
“An idol.”
It slipped out before I could stop it. And I found myself facing a face frozen in surprise, as if she had just heard something completely unexpected. I felt the same way.
So what on earth was going on here?
Idol Survival input complete
Status window has been unlocked
It was a stripped-down format with a lot omitted, but the UI was familiar.
“I got ahead of myself. I’m sorry for even forgetting introductions. I’m Heo Jeong-in.”
“Lee Han-hee.”
“Yes, Han-hee. May I ask your age?”
“Nineteen.”
Heo Jeong-in, a thirty-three-year-old office worker long accustomed to living with a baby face.
On her way to work she had stumbled upon a face that was nothing short of a jewel—one that made her want to scream “damn” on the spot—and without a second of hesitation she had brought its owner straight to her office.
“I’m sorry. I’ve never heard of a trainee like you existing, so of course I completely excluded that possibility. Do you happen to be under a company already?”
If he were someone in the industry she would have known him already, yet this was a face she was seeing for the first time. She had assumed he was a civilian, and from the moment she saw him the thought that she had to debut him filled her head, so she had lost a little of her rationality.
Beauty perched on that precarious line between boy and young man had completely destroyed her brakes. The entire world needed to know this face.
Heo Jeong-in was still reeling from the sudden surge of professional spirit. This was beauty on another level entirely. So of course she wanted to bring this teacher—who had opened the eyes of a blind woman to a new world of aesthetics—into her own front yard no matter what.
But an idol? Now she was determined to find out exactly which agency had been hoarding such a treasure.
They hadn’t debuted him even at nineteen? Had they seriously never captured his younger self on camera? She vowed to make them pay for that. However—
“…I don’t have one.”
Eureka! At the words that he had no agency, Heo Jeong-in felt disappointment and joy take turns, then continued calmly. She reeled in the self-control that had fled so she wouldn’t come on too strong.
“Then, Han-hee, may I ask once more whether you have any serious intention of signing with our agency?”
If he signed he would be working as an actor, of course. Heo Jeong-in swallowed those words. She simply didn’t want to let him go that badly.
“Thank you for everything you’ve told me. As for the offer… could you give me some time to think it over?”
“Of course. It’s an important decision, so giving you time to think is only natural. Here’s my card.”
Even at nineteen his speech was calm and mature. More decisive than she had expected, too.
“Thank you. Then I’ll be going now.”
There was no hesitation in the steps the boy took. It made the fragile impression Heo Jeong-in had formed of him feel completely unfounded.
From the first moment they met, Lee Han-hee had drawn Heo Jeong-in into every kind of emotion.
His expression had been perfectly composed, yet she had sensed something precarious about him.
Like a glass filled to the brim so that the surface trembled with every tiny movement—as if something unknown was packed tight inside him.
It was something like an aura.
Add the cold January weather and his thin clothes, and even busy office workers on their morning commute forgot where they were going and stopped dead in their tracks, captivated by that melancholy beauty.
He had simply been standing motionless in a corner before entering the main road, yet he stabbed into the eye. It wasn’t just her—glancing around, she counted at least a dozen people who had frozen in place.
Yet the boy seemed utterly indifferent to all of it. More accurately, he simply didn’t have the mental bandwidth to notice his surroundings.
What kind of situation is he in?
Even knowing he was lost deep in thought, Heo Jeong-in had deliberately made more noise than usual to catch his attention.
People in the industry often said she had good instincts, and a strange premonition had urged her that if she didn’t approach right that second he would vanish like a mirage.
At the same time Heo Jeong-in felt an intense desire to work with this boy no matter what. The same intuition that had always detected success was screaming at her to grab him immediately.
“If you have any questions, feel free to contact me whenever it’s convenient for you.”
In her current state of mind she felt she could happily take a call even at three in the morning on a weekend.
But deep down she already sensed the truth. The call would never come.
Heo Jeong-in’s emotions howled that she wanted to roll out the red carpet for Lee Han-hee somehow, yet her reason—having observed the expression and demeanor of the boy who spoke of becoming an idol—told her to abandon any lingering attachment.
After seeing him off to the front door and trudging back, Heo Jeong-in sank into the plush sofa. She was simply disappointed. So disappointed.
The agency she had built primarily supported actors, so objectively speaking it lacked any real foundation for creating an idol group.
If his dream of becoming an idol was solid, and if he had no intention of changing course, there was no reason for him to choose this company. Their directions were different from the start.
If he’s going to be an idol, there’s a perfect opportunity right now, too.
Heo Jeong-in stared blankly at the Idol Survival commercial proposal sitting on her desk. Lee Han-hee clearly possessed a face that guaranteed success, yet the path he wanted to walk was different from her company’s.
“Ah, why didn’t I invest in idol entertainment earlier…”
Even if the texture was a little different, the intuition she had honed from the very bottom of this industry told her one thing.
Lee Han-hee would definitely become a star.
“If he’d wanted to be an actor or a model, I really, truly…”
It was a night that made her crave a drink.