The Ace of the Orphanage
Cheon Yua's flex was, in a word, devastating.
And it was immaculate.
"The building's in better shape than I expected. The interior is a bit plain, but it hardly needs work. Let's start by replacing the outdated appliances first."
After giving the facility a thorough once-over, her decision was to begin with the aging appliances. Before long, a convoy of trucks loaded to the brim with washing machines, refrigerators, and televisions rolled up to the orphanage.
And of course, the procession included not one but two computers for the children.
"Oh my, you really didn't have to go this far..."
"This is the place that raised Yuri into such a fine young woman. You've more than earned the right to be treated well."
"Unnie..."
Boosting Yang Yuri's standing in front of the startled director, who had never dreamed of such windfall, was simply a bonus. If you can tell ten things from seeing one, then a place that showered this kind of gratitude on Yuri merely for having grown up here was bound, as surely as fire burns, to treat her wonderfully as an employee. After all, a workplace that a superstar like Cheon Yua visited in person already carried considerable credibility.
Seemingly reassured now, the director's warm hand was gently stroking Yang Yuri's hair.
As for Yang Yuri?
Well, the girl's eyes had gone somewhere else entirely.
Loyalty was practically spraying out of them in all directions. From where I stood, there was no way in hell that woman was ever leaving Flame Entertainment now.
"This really is a lovely place."
While Cheon Yua expanded her congregation(?), I took the opportunity to look around the facility a bit more myself. Plenty of corners had seen better days, but everything had been maintained with such meticulous care that nothing felt lacking. The only staff working here, as far as I could tell, were the director and a single nun — clearly diligent women, both of them.
In that sense, maybe Yang Yuri had been lucky, too. Not every facility ran this smoothly and cleanly.
"Unnie!"
"Whoa, it's Cheon Yua! It's Cheon Yua!"
"Cheon~ Yua? Is she your friend, unnie?"
"Ahh! It's the demon king!"
"Aigoo, honestly... If you don't run over here and kneel right now, there'll be no Shining S-9 for you."
"...Ah... it really is the demon..."
When I returned from a brief look around, chaos had broken out. Little kids who'd recognized Cheon Yua were swarming her, and Yang Yuri was holding the line against the onslaught. The brats who'd dared act cheeky toward Cheon Yua were meeting with Yang Yuri's righteous punishment — she was cracking down on their discipline using the brand-new S&M smartphones Cheon Yua had personally brought as leverage.
Watching the little rascals pout and sulk even as they sprinted over and dropped to their knees, I gained renewed appreciation for the power of the smartphone. Well, fair enough. Nobody can resist a new phone release. A man's knees were always destined to bend far too easily in front of a game console or the latest model.
"By the way, that child over there..."
I had been idly enjoying the pleasant commotion when one particular child caught my eye. A cute little girl, six to eight years old by the look of her. It wasn't her looks that drew my attention — at my age, children that young are adorable and pretty no matter what, full stop.
The reason she stood out was that she seemed to have a purpose, circling around Cheon Yua like a shark. And even her beaming smiles and cutesy gestures had something subtly off about them.
"That's acting."
In other words — what she was doing was a performance.
She clearly liked Cheon Yua, that much was obvious. But clinging to her with such overt aegyo was unmistakably an act. I could stake my career on it — thirty years of dedicated method acting for the sole purpose of staying alive.
"Interesting little one."
"Who is?"
"Oh, Yuri. That's you."
"No wonder the back of my head felt hot. What on earth were you staring at so intently?"
"Ah, that little brat over there."
"Let's see... You mean Mi-joo?"
"Mi-joo?"
"Yes — the girl leaning her head on Yua-unnie's shoulder. That's her, right? She's our facility's ace."
"Ace? What on earth kind of ace?"
I had been observing the brat's behavior with some interest when Yang Yuri came over to me. Apparently I'd been so absorbed that I'd done nothing but watch the kid. Since it had come to this, I figured I'd ask what kind of child she was — and got an answer that came completely out of left field.
The ace of the childcare facility? An ace at what, exactly?
"Oh, it's nothing much. You know how some of the donors like to ask for things in return for their support. Photos and such."
"Ah, right. That does happen."
"Mi-joo handles most of those people. The other children sometimes get hurt by that sort of thing, you see."
"I see..."
"The director tells her not to do it, of course, but Mi-joo absolutely refuses to back down. Mee-young had a really rough patch a while back because of it. At that age, you're..."
"Easily hurt. Good grief."
Donations are a truly grateful thing, but there are always a few who approach with something self-serving in mind. And those people somehow always want to leave with a lot in hand. In rare cases, there were even those with deficient character who outright wounded the children. To guard against such situations, the child with the strongest mental fortitude took on the role of external-facing greeter — and that, apparently, was the little brat over there. Mi-joo.
In other words, that girl had been extraordinary from the very cradle.
"Our Mi-joo is remarkably clever, you know. She even read through my scripts with me, over and over. Gave me notes, too."
"Your scripts? How old is that child?"
"Seven now. I'm not entirely sure, but somewhere around there."
"Not entirely sur... ah."
"Right. Her birthday is... well, you know."
"She's at an age where even reading would be a struggle, and yet..."
That was genuinely surprising. If she'd read the scripts and given feedback, that meant she could understand what Yang Yuri had written — a script written for professional production. Quite the clever little brat, apparently.
"Unnie."
Just as I was marveling at the existence of such a child, the brat herself came strolling over. She drifted toward Yang Yuri while sneaking glances my way — which told me this time, the target was me. She'd already won Cheon Yua's favor, so now she was coming for mine.
Honestly, if I were her, I'd do the same. The identically dressed guards were obviously bottom-tier grunts(?), while Cheon Yua, Yang Yuri, and I formed the core of this group. Yang Yuri was already a known quantity, so naturally she'd set her sights on me.
"Hey, brat."
"I'm not a brat. I'm Mi-joo. Mi-joo."
"Right. So what does Mi-joo want, coming all the way over here?"
"Hehe~ I just came because there's a handsome oppa here~ And my unnie's here too."
"Oh please, like I'd buy that. And you don't need to force that smile in front of me. Relax. Just be natural. Okay?"
"...My, you're a sharp one, aren't you, oppa?"
The grinning brat's expression stiffened bit by bit until she was wearing a flat, deadpan face. The transition itself was pure artistry. The moment she realized her playful aegyo wouldn't work on me, she simply showed me her real face.
Had she already pegged my personality?
She grumbles about me being perceptive, but I suspect she's the quicker one of us two.
"Now then. So what's our Mi-joo's actual business?"
"Hmm... how do I put this."
"Go on."
"Oppa, you're an actor, aren't you?"
"I am. Though I'm still leagues behind that unnie over there."
"Then... could you tell me how someone becomes an actor?"
"...Hm? An actor?"
"Yes. I heard Yuri-unnie joined a company over there too. Do you not take child actors?"
So that was her aim. A child actor. Come to think of it, it was a perfect fit for her — clever, poised beyond her years, and with acting already woven into her daily life.
Still, if that was her goal, wouldn't it have been smarter to approach our group's leader, Cheon Yua, instead of me? When I asked her exactly that, the brat averted her eyes and answered.
"Well... that unnie is kind of scary. I feel like I'd really get in trouble if I messed up."
"So I'm the easier mark?"
"Honestly? Yes. Oppas are suckers for adorable little kids, after all."
"...Can't argue with that, but aren't you being a little too calculating?"
"You're the one who said to be honest, oppa."
Well, fair. Our Heavenly Demon's presence is rather overwhelming. True to her expertise in survival acting, she'd clearly sized up her opponent before deciding how to play it — after the earlier encounter, she must have concluded that particular approach wouldn't fly.
This was a genuinely fascinating brat. What kind of environment does a child have to grow up in to turn out like this?
Of course, children are endlessly shaped by the circumstances they're born into, but this one was truly on another level.
"Does Yuri know you want to become an actress, Mi-joo?"
"She does. I was going to show her in front of Yua-unnie, judging the mood — though I didn't expect to have to sell myself directly like this."
"That's what happens when your unnie's too slow on the uptake."
"Aigoo, you really are..."
Then again, she'd taken such an interest in Yang Yuri's scripts that maybe this route was the more natural one for her after all. But why did she want to become an actress so badly?
"An actress? Money, obviously."
"Money?"
"I mean, what way does a little kid have to earn money? I've heard of KidsTube channels and all that, but don't you need some kind of base for that too? They say the competition is brutal."
"Well, that's true enough. And once you've earned the money, then what?"
"Oppa, you know less about the world than I expected. With money, almost anything is possible. I wouldn't have to watch Director Mom trembling and shaking anymore. And I could buy meat for those dummies over there."
"...That's what it's for?"
Just as she said, money did solve most problems. And the things she'd listed, in particular, could practically all be fixed with it. She wanted to earn money not for herself, but for the facility, the director, and her friends.
She'd grown up far, far too fast.
Could she possibly have her age wrong? Even if she'd told me she was ten, it would strain belief — and she was supposedly seven. Although, appearance-wise, six or seven did seem about right.
"What are you two talking about?"
"Ah, Yua-ssunbae."
"You both look rather serious."
"Oh, it's, um..."
"Let's have it. Straightforwardly, please."
"It's hardly something that calls for a full confession. Apparently this one wants to become a child actress."
As my conversation with the brat stretched on, Cheon Yua had joined us. The other kids who'd swarmed her had received the gift cards she'd scattered and were now off doing something on their new smartphones.
Classic Cheon Yua. This time she'd flexed with gift cards.
Since it had come to this, I answered her honestly. If the brat wanted to achieve her goal, she'd ultimately need Cheon Yua's approval anyway.
When Mi-joo declared she wanted to be a child actress, something shifted in Cheon Yua's eyes. The look she'd worn while gazing at nothing more than an adorable little brat changed into one appraising an aspiring actress — still young, but already striving toward the craft.
"An actress, hmm. Has our Mi-joo ever acted before?"
And just like that, an impromptu audition was about to break out. Facing Cheon Yua's coolly assessing gaze, our little brat didn't flinch one bit.
This kid was the real deal.
Not that I thought she stood much chance of actually signing with our company, of course.