You're the One for the Job!
His lips pressed into a firm line, his expression grim and serious as he stood there.
“What could possibly be the reason they failed?”
His steps halted right in front of the window overlooking the company’s underground practice room.
‘Crack…’
Lee Jong-seok had poured his heart and soul into creating five members for this boy group. In the future they would become the backbone that carried the company forward. Right now, though, they were just another miserable flop among the failures.
‘Must be pretty annoying, huh?’
He was asking advice from a new employee who’d barely been here a few months? With his face locked in that serious scowl, a strange sense of discomfort crept over him.
‘Why wouldn’t it be? I’d be frustrated too.’
Maybe this very moment was one of the hardest times of his entire life. Because back then, right around this season, every single misfortune had piled up.
Crack had been his biggest hope, only to crash and burn. Jeong Man-sik and Lee Sa-rang betrayed him and jumped ship. The promising Kim Si-a he was trying so hard to nurture ended up ruined by his bad care and ultimately canceled her contract.
‘Back then I really was such an idiot…’
Only later did I realize this had been the most difficult time of my life, but at the time I was just a clueless new hire who thought the workload had magically lightened and felt nothing but relief.
“You don’t have to overthink it. It’s just a casual question.”
That was true from the CEO’s perspective. I was still nothing more than a new hire trying to prove himself.
‘I guess I should just say it…’
The only thing weighing on my mind was the fear that my too-early advice might have caused friends who could have turned out well to falter instead.
“Don’t take it so seriously. Just say whatever’s on your mind.”
‘Yeah, hyung’s right. No need to get so heavy about it…’
After all, I knew these guys’ efforts and talent better than anyone. They had pulled through even in the worst situation.
My opinion couldn’t possibly have steered them off course. That thought was pure arrogance on my part.
“If you’re looking for Crack’s flaws, then having too many problems is the real issue.”
The cocky answer that slipped from the new hire’s mouth left Lee Jong-seok staring at him in stunned disbelief.
“What…?”
“In other words, it’s a total disaster.”
Crack’s debut had been a complete fiasco. A boy group created by a management company with zero experience or know-how in the idol world.
‘And the money they’d spent? Gone with the wind. Nothing left.’
The CEO had an exceptionally strong artistic instinct. That was why he could always pick projects that, even if they didn’t sell, would still earn him respect as an artist.
‘Artists can still succeed that way… but why drag idols into it?’
Of course, that artistic eye of his would eventually pay off. Once they stepped onto the world stage, the debut album would get reevaluated. But that was a story about when they had already succeeded. It wasn’t success yet.
“You never properly defined your main target demographic, and the songs and performances are just too heavy.”
The composer they’d hired—supposedly an artist—smashed an orchestra into their debut tracks. The choreographer they’d paid a fortune to was flying in flashy moves like he was trying to prove his worth. The practice room was filled with the expectation that these boys would win over the entire public.
It could have been an all-time idol group if they succeeded, but the odds were laughably low.
“You should have set a clear target audience from the start. Only women in their teens to twenties. That’s exactly what the big agencies did.”
Some larger companies had already shifted to the fandom economy. They’d given up on people who didn’t need them and focused solely on the young female demographic that actually consumed idols. Even in Asia alone, tens of thousands of copies could sell easily. There was no point catering to fans who had no intention of buying.
“And if you’re going to lean into art, do it on platforms where it actually works. The idol world is pure business. Treat it that way.”
Orchestra? Forget it. Light, catchy tunes that stick in the ear are what win. We’re in the streaming era now; heavy, high-effort music only breeds fatigue.
“Promotion was terrible too.”
The standard big-agency path—release an album, appear on variety shows, play on music programs. That only works for companies that already have massive fandoms. Small to mid-sized agencies like ours couldn’t even try that.
“And finally, there’s literally no reason for anyone to like Crack.”
Crack had no story. The era of fans falling for handsome faces and good voices alone was over. Idols now needed to give fans something to truly immerse themselves in—shared joys and sorrows, a journey they could watch grow. Without that content, building a fandom was almost impossible.
“So that’s why Crack failed, CEO.”
As my ten-minute explanation wrapped up, Lee Jong-seok’s face had turned pale with shock. He simply couldn’t accept the situation.
‘This can’t be real…’
How could a new hire who’d been here barely a few months give the exact same answer as Park Jong-guk, the CEO of JK Entertainment?
‘Your guys picked the wrong target! The songs are too heavy… if you’re going to do that artistic stuff, stick to movies.’
That morning Jong-seok’s expression had looked especially worn down. Besides Crack’s disastrous debut, he had just endured a meeting with Park Jong-guk, his rival and also his close friend. He had swallowed his pride and listened to every expert opinion the other CEO had brought.
His own pride had taken a serious hit.
‘So that kid just gave the same judgment as JK Entertainment’s top experts. And not just any experts—the ones at the absolute peak of the idol market right now. No, even better. More accurate and refined. All from a guy who’s been here only a few months.’
‘…Me? No way… I’m speechless.’
I was so stunned I couldn’t even laugh. He had already figured out every flaw I’d uncovered, even after bending his own pride to do so. And all while perfectly managing the very Kim Si-a he was responsible for.
“…Are you some kind of industrial spy or something?”
“Huh?”
“Or… is someone planting a spy in our company just to steal something? No, wait—that doesn’t make sense. Why would anyone send a spy to a place that has nothing worth stealing?”
For a split second I thought he might be referring to Park Jong-guk’s spy. But who would plant someone in a company that couldn’t even produce a single idol?
Plus, this guy had actually done his job perfectly.
‘Maybe the one who failed was me, not the so-called experts…’
If I had to suspect a spy, it should have been me or that idiot composer.
“More importantly, how did you know why Crack failed?”
‘How? Because I researched it with hyung for months after receiving Park Jong-guk’s evaluation. I knew exactly what they were missing and what they regretted.’
I had participated in the project too, so I knew everything—down to the solutions.
“Just by looking. You can see where it went wrong.”
“What…?”
“It was obvious to my eyes. The problems, I mean.”
‘Might as well give the genius cosplayer act a try…’
Since revealing the real reason would just make me look insane, I chose the cosplayer answer instead. I was a natural genius in this field and had instinctively spotted the issues with Crack. Answering honestly about my regression would have seemed too coincidental, but this way felt right.
“So… everything was obvious the moment you saw it?”
“Yeah.”
“Hah… then you must have a solution too, right? You figured out the problems, so the fix should be obvious.”
“I don’t have the solution yet. But…”
“But what?”
“Would you trust your own instincts for a moment?”
“My instincts…?”
The complete reversal from a moment ago—right after I had told him to drop the “art” nonsense and just run a proper business.
Of course, I wasn’t suggesting he do art. I was telling him to trust the members the CEO himself had chosen.
“Just hand them over to those friends of yours and see what happens.”
“So… you’re saying to trust my instincts?”
“Yes. Trust the people you picked.”
“…Trust those guys?”
“I overheard someone saying the other day that one of them—maybe LJ?—does composing?”
“Composing?”
“Just a passing comment. But it stuck. The song I heard sounded really good, and his sense of it felt… right.”
I hadn’t actually heard it. I only knew the next album would be fully handled by LJ.
“And let them create one piece of content on their own, releasing the raw growth process to the public.”
JK had survived their hardest period not because of the agency’s care, but because the members themselves started uploading practice videos. The process of making music, the brutal training footage, and even the daily life vlogs in the dorm. The fans finally saw their chemistry, their stunning looks, and how much they were actually working.
“Hmm… handing it over to the Crack members…”
The CEO’s face had gone even more serious. After a long moment of thought, his answer was completely different from what I expected.
“Yes! That’s exactly what we should do!”
“What?”
“Kang Min-hyuk, you take Crack!”
The decision that had crystallized in his mind was simple: I—the one who had come up with the idea—was going to be the manager in charge of Crack.
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Crack Manager Mode Activated