Chapter 76

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Translator: Wjin

Chapter: 76

Chapter Title: Her Bucket List

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Knock knock knock.

Of all times, someone had to knock right then, nearly making my heart leap out of my throat.

"It's Cha Do-hyun, sir."

"Ah, yes! Just a moment!"

My heart was racing wildly, and it wasn't just because of Team Leader Cha. I desperately wanted to check right away, but I needed to calm down first.

"Sorry for barging in."

Cha Do-hyun said as the door opened.

"He used to live in the goshiwon. After his discharge, he had nowhere to go, so I told him to hang tight."

"Where is he now?"

"It's cold out, so he's in the practice room. He didn't see you come in."

If he's going this far to vouch for him, it might be worth meeting the guy.

"I'll head over soon."

The practice room was just a stone's throw from the goshiwon, but even on that short walk, a flood of thoughts crashed over me.

'Is it really Number 7?'

The novel I'd seen earlier floated vividly in my mind.

The plot was straightforward.

There was a young lady. She had a year to live.

There was a knight. He was in love with her.

The two ventured out into the world, checking off the things she'd always wanted to do, one by one.

A bucket list.

'That was her style.'

Pinpointing a specific author from a web novel is tough, but I'd read her work every single day for so long.

Mixed genres were tricky, but her romance fantasies haunted even my dreams.

'It might not be her.'

But it could be.

"Hello!"

A young man greeted me brightly as I entered the practice room.

"Ah, yes. I heard about you."

We were in the middle of expanding the business, so we needed hands. We could use another DM manager right away. And ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠after the auditions? We'd need staff to handle Black Ink too.

So I asked,

"Do you read much?"

"Haha! Not really my thing."

People have their inclinations. Forcing someone into what they hate kills efficiency. Better to find what they do well.

"What do you think about manager work?"

"If you give me the shot, I'll learn and give it my all!"

We chatted briefly. He dreamed of being ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a chef—commendable to have such a clear goal.

He looked about my age, but inside, I'm an old fogey. I couldn't help but score points for someone this earnest.

"There's a vacancy opening up in a week. Come by then."

I'd heard from Ye-jin, so I said that and stood. We could've talked more, but my mind was elsewhere.

"Thank you! See you in a week! Thank you!"

Leaving him bowing repeatedly, I headed back to the goshiwon. Same path, but my steps were ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠several times faster now.

Bam!

I slammed the door shut and sank into my chair. Time to reread from episode 1.

'Immature, but she knows how to hook readers.'

I could see the effort in that final hook. For a 5,000-character first episode, those last 500 characters decide if readers continue.

That's what the team leader hammered into me for years. But Number 7 had the hook from the start. Talent, maybe, or something honed from massive input.

Even on a quick read earlier, episode 2 showed more of her habits. The male lead's dialogue felt awkward—that chronic issue she never quite fixed, even years later.

After episode 3, I messaged her right away. Not my first time reaching out first, but never this tense.

『Hello. I'm the author Memento Mori. I read your work and...』

No weird tangents—I kept it professional to avoid seeming like a creep.

『I'd like to invest in your potential. Please get back to me if you see this.』

"Phew..."

Views under 10? No one beat me to her.

Cold truth: her novel wasn't that captivating yet. Good prose, but bloated with fluff. She'd dumped her brain onto the page without trimming the fat in revisions.

Of course. Authors cling to every word and sentence. It's subjective; nothing feels trivial enough to cut.

Fine for a diary. Novels demand objectivity.

"Really..."

Is it her?

"Something going on with the boss lately?"

Jin-seong was at the cafeteria for once. Ye-jin replied with a worried look.

"No idea. Tired, maybe? He's prepping a new work."

"Hmm..."

Since the Luke Media visit, the president barely left his room. Even when we crossed paths, he seemed soulless, giving half-hearted replies.

"Not a cold, is it?"

"Or some illness?"

"Let's take him to the hospital."

"Maybe."

I had Queen audition recording tomorrow, so I needed to recover by tonight anyway.

"Heading out this afternoon?"

Jin-seong nodded at Ye-jin's question.

"Tough?"

"Everyone lives like this."

Jin-seong felt more grown-up lately. Probably from looking after the others.

Impressive yet strange, so Ye-jin asked,

"You might go to America. Heard?"

"Yeah."

"That's it? America!"

"Same as anywhere people live."

"Ha, why'd you turn into such an old soul?"

Jin-seong chuckled and placed a hand on Ye-jin's shoulder, setting a tray in front of her.

"Gotta be. Eat up. Bean sprout soup turned out great."

Camera polish? He exuded coolness now. Used to be a kid brother; now he's the big bro.

"Definitely..."

"Definitely what?"

"Delicious!"

"You haven't even tried..."

Ye-jin slurped the soup as Jin-seong smirked. She dove into her meal to shake off the weird vibe, but he perched on the sink and asked,

"How far can we go?"

"DM?"

"Yeah."

"We gotta make it big."

"So where do we set that 'big' bar?"

Was Jin-seong always this thoughtful? Ye-jin met his gaze.

"Music Awards?"

"Hmm, top of the heap, huh."

"We started—might as well see it through!"

Jin-seong crossed his arms and nodded.

Thrust into idol life on a whim, maybe he'd been adrift without a goal?

"Right. Started it, finish it."

Jin-seong stared intently at Ye-jin. Suddenly shy, she ducked her head—then the cafeteria door opened.

"Bro, you okay?"

I smiled at Jin-seong.

"Good morning."

He stood there like a picture. Who else could rock an apron like that?

I sat by Ye-jin.

"Bean sprout soup?"

"Yes."

"Nice. Weather's chilly."

They both stared at me silently.

"......"

"......"

I asked under their gaze,

"What?"

Jin-seong said,

"Not sick?"

Ye-jin added,

"Your face looks rough."

Yeah, figured. These past three days, I'd been a mess. Not low immunity or anything serious—just anxiety, frustration, and endless waiting eating me up.

"Just tired."

I'd pored over her writing hundreds of times. Why no reply? I ran scenarios, telling myself one more day. But the more I read, the surer I got.

"New work not clicking?"

I smiled at Ye-jin's question.

"Seems that way."

I couldn't share this worry. Who'd empathize with this one-sided crush?

Thriller to romance? Nah—more like chasing memories, confirming a piece of life.

"Eat up. All of it."

Not a tray—a big bowl of rice soaked in soup. Appetite was gone anyway; his gesture meant the world.

A few more months like this, and I'd lose it. Is lovesickness always this brutal?

Slurp.

Sipping broth, Jin-seong asked,

"Don't push for the US trip. Costs a ton."

Heard from Manager Min?

"We gotta go. Great opportunity."

Jin-seong gave a wry smile and shook his head.

"Waste of money. Japan at most. America's too much."

"No. You guys..."

I trailed off; they looked at me.

Ha, how to explain?

"You'll do great."

They'd never believe "biggest idol success in Korean history."

I wolfed it down and stood.

"Thanks. Delicious."

If someone moped in their room, I'd say get out and breathe. But in my shoes? Computer felt safest.

Checked messages. Nothing, as expected. Three days straight.

'Hope that bastard didn't drag her off?'

Dark thought. Writing skill aside, she'd been nabbed by the Team Leader once. Things changed because of me—timelines shifting wouldn't be weird.

My anxiety spiked from that.

"Driving me nuts..."

I muttered unwittingly—then my phone buzzed.

-It's the Executive Director.

"Had lunch?"

-Yep. Thought I'd check. Dinner with City of Crime folks tonight—interested?

Normally, no. Too much work; those seats drain you.

But today?

"Where?"

Needed air. Something to breathe life back, reclaim normalcy.

-Oh! Really?

She laughed, surprised.

-Jamsil, 7 PM!

"See you then."

Hung up, killed the monitor. Annoying distraction. Lay on bed. Breakfast to bed—total slob.

So cute, I nearly burst out laughing.

No voice, but the chat conjured her tone.

She paused, then listed with sparkling eyes.

Makes sense—anything beats bungee jumping if we escape.

Eclectic tastes—from girly high school vibes to chicken soup.

Didn't seem aimed at me, but imagining it brought joy.

She tucked stray hair behind her ear and beamed.

Enter the villain.

Really? Normal's bad—beating up delinquents normal?

Ignored 13 and bloomed the chat with her again.

Whew, even typing that burns. Tall, handsome, kind, chaebol heir? Nah, I match zilch.

She smiled dazzlingly.

That day, I went blind.