The Queen Awaits
Host bars, shortened to ho-bba, came in all shapes and flavors.
Some took guests regardless of gender, while others, a step below, sent their lowest players out on mobile service to nearby neighborhoods. There were even bars catering exclusively to gay clients and a few where older men found their way into the private rooms.
But Kim Namhu had no interest in anything but women. His skills were his own, his pride unshakeable, so he had chosen a pure female host bar.
With my level of skill, heading straight to Gangnam right now would be perfect.
Yet the true heart of Korea’s entertainment industry had always been Gangnam.
Still, without any track record, charging in from nowhere would bring nothing but headaches.
Kim Namhu knew the host-bar industry inside out.
No matter how talented a man might be, he could not become an Ace overnight in Gangnam.
Better to turn into a snake’s head, jump straight to Gangnam, and enjoy the ride.
Host bars were not confined to Gangnam. There was a proven path: sign with a solid bar in a lesser district, grab the Ace title within weeks, and enjoy easy days until a scout from Gangnam finally approached.
That route guaranteed far better treatment.
So where would I go?
Kim Namhu made his choice in a single breath.
Anywhere except Gangnam, and I’d secure the Ace title without breaking a sweat.
Let’s just pick somewhere convenient—close to home, easy commutes.
Convenience had always been the guiding star of his career.
In the end, he decided to apply to the very host bar where he had first planted his feet in his previous life.
A host bar was a paradise for those with talent and a living hell for those without. Unfortunately, most lacked both.
Job postings were always open.
6 PM.
Just before the bar opened, the interview room was prepared.
Kim Namhu entered the host bar with perfect manners, offering a polite bow at the door.
Respect alone could unlock enormous gains; there was no reason to appear rude.
Down here, many talented people vanished before they could even register because they never learned such basic truths.
“Hello. I’m Kim Namhu, here for the interview today.”
The host, already wondering why a man had walked into a bar that served only women, relaxed his posture and greeted him with a light tone.
“Oh, really?”
Kim Namhu recognized him instantly.
Cha Ji-hoon. Now that I think about it, this guy worked here too.
Cha Ji-hoon.
A street thug who had climbed into the host industry simply because he believed his looks would carry him.
His street-honed swagger was rough around the edges, but he was not a bad person at heart.
Cha Ji-hoon asked a cleaning staff member to check the schedule.
“Is there an interview today?”
“Yes. The Main is on the phone right now. Just wait over there, please.”
Seeing Kim Namhu as his junior, Cha Ji-hoon immediately switched to casual speech.
“See those chairs over there?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Kim Namhu took a seat in one of the worn chairs in the corner near the office.
Cha Ji-hoon sat beside him, clearly eager to begin the business.
Before any deals were closed, hosts had nothing to do but wait and grow bored.
He eyed Kim Namhu’s suit and spoke.
“You know the basics at least. Have you worked anywhere else before?”
“No. This is my first time.”
“Age?”
“Twenty-one.”
“Young. From the look of you, you’re going to sail through.”
“From now on, just call me Hyung.”
Kim Namhu looked the part of an instant hire.
Cha Ji-hoon, clearly wanting to offer some advice, examined the suit in detail.
“What brand is that?”
“It’s a custom suit.”
“Oh man, we check the brand everywhere in Bukchon. You should at least wear a branded one so the customers like it. Still, it’s not terrible. It’ll do for now. Once you start making money, get yourself a real custom suit. If you don’t know brands, ask me— I know a good one.”
Kim Namhu understood Cha Ji-hoon was half-boasting, half-friendly, and had no idea how to respond.
He simply offered an awkward smile.
While half-listening to Cha Ji-hoon’s chatter, he scanned the surroundings.
The Queen.
It was one of the most successful bars in Suyu.
Customers could tell it was not some back-alley dive just by walking in.
They had contracted with a single box and offered comfortable work conditions.
A host box was simply a team of hosts working together; the hosts themselves were called player.
Any box that earned money was fine, but those lacking talent were labeled Nambodo, forced to travel by van every night, exhausting their bodies for little reward.
This would be the perfect starting point.
Now that I think about it, the Main is really coming back after a long absence.
A Main was the leader of the box, much like a madame in any other industry.
Kim Namhu still carried good memories of the Main here.
The man who had given him countless helpful lessons when he was still struggling with no knowledge.
This time, when I join, the Main will benefit greatly too.
If the hosts below performed well, the Main would naturally rise.
The thought brought a smile to Kim Namhu’s lips.
He had accidentally repaid a debt.
While listening to Cha Ji-hoon’s idle talk, the staff member returned.
“You’re here for the interview? Come this way, please.”
“Yes.”
There was no separate interview space.
They simply led him into a clean, tidy room.
Kim Namhu found it comfortable, almost like his own private room.
The moment he stepped inside, a sturdy man in his early thirties, eating fruit, looked up.
“You’re here? Sit.”
In this industry, youth or lack of experience meant casual speech came easily.
Yet the man before him—a handsome twenty-something offering respectful treatment to the interviewee—was no ordinary person.
Hyung Lee Sang-soo.
The room was not empty.
Three additional men sat there, each radiating his own unique charm.
They were the three Aces under Hyung Lee Sang-soo’s box.
They were not only on the phone; they were casually discussing business.
“This is obvious, but you’re hired. Even in a suit.”
Lee Sang-soo laughed as he spoke.
Kim Namhu had only briefly met Lee Sang-soo before, yet the memories flooded back.
Right now he leads the most successful box in Bukchon, but he went bankrupt a few years ago.
Managing a host box was never an easy job.
The Main had to possess real talent and strong reputation.
One slip in managing his people, and the box would tremble and eventually dissolve.
Bottom-tier hosts were the most disloyal.
Yet Lee Sang-soo had climbed to the top through pure loyalty in the host industry.
He believed in his people, covered for them, and fixed mistakes when they occurred.
He was someone who dreamed of an ideal world.
Each member believed that as long as they did their own work well, everything would naturally fall into place.
But the real world was never that simple.
Even things that seemed to be running smoothly might have tiny problems accumulating beneath the surface.
Lee Sang-soo was hiring Kim Namhu on the spot because he saw talent and reliability.
Despite the constant shortage of staff in the host industry, no well-performing box could afford to hire carelessly.
Right beside him sat No. 1 Ace Choi Moon-ho, already wearing a displeased expression.
Hiring so easily might suit the Main’s style, but from the Aces’ perspective, it felt like the box’s pride had been stepped on.
Kim Namhu had never noticed such subtle tensions in his previous life.
Now, however, they were impossible to miss.
Interesting. So this is what happens after collecting all those experiences and returning.
The small conflicts between Aces and the Main felt almost like something young people would argue about.
The box was only thirty-three years old, and the Aces were barely twenty-seven.
Kim Namhu had to force himself not to smile.
Before, they simply looked cool and impressive.
Now I see they are just ordinary people.
Throughout this, the eyes of the Main and the Aces kept returning to Kim Namhu.
They were judging whether he could last long in this job.
Whether he could truly appeal to women.
Whether he possessed the mental strength to endure humiliation from female clients.
Hosts needed a wide range of talents.
Lee Sang-soo, perhaps wanting to give his Ace a little extra benefit, asked one question.
“Why do you want to do this job? I mean, in society it isn’t exactly looked upon favorably.”
Hire or no hire was already a done deal.
If he turned him down, that would simply be the limit of Lee Sang-soo’s flexibility.
Kim Namhu answered honestly.
“According to statistics, thirty-six percent of Korean married couples have sexless marriages. If I graduate university reasonably, get a decent job, and marry a decent woman, I might end up one of those husbands who only watches his wife and child go through life. But as a host, as long as my skills are good, I can taste any woman I want. That’s why I want to become a host.”