-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Vine
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: The Old-School System (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
When you’re job hunting, you end up rewriting your resume countless times.
At the same time, a resume was a document I had seen to the point of nausea while working in HR, and one I had also once edited daily, dreaming of a new job.
But the resume I was looking at now was something I’d never seen before in my life.
+
[UA New Trainee] Kim Iwol
Kim Iwol (Age 20 / Previous Age 29)
Work Experience
― Joined UA through street casting
Extracurricular Activities
― Hanpyeong Industries, HR Team, Assistant Manager (5th year)
Performance Evaluation (100)
― Vocal Proficiency: 4/20
― Dance Proficiency: 1/20
― Self-PR: 12/20
― Attendance Management: 18/20
― Adaptability within Organization: 10/20
Accumulated EXP: 0
Accumulated Points: 0
+
Of all things, it had to be my own resume.
My past at Hanpyeong Industries, which had been as tough as the fibers of a poorly boiled sweet potato, was now listed under extracurricular activities.
So my career’s gone down the drain.
More importantly, a dance proficiency of 1? Was this for real? It was truly a stroke of divine luck that I never got picked for the talent show at the company workshop.
I was staring blankly at the EXP and points, wondering what they were, when a new explanation appeared.
+
[SYSTEM] The ‘EXP-Point System’ is now disclosed to the ‘Subordinate.’
▷ A certain amount of ‘EXP’ is awarded upon completion of a ‘Task.’
▷ When EXP reaches 100, it can be exchanged for 1 Point.
▷ Points can be added to proficiency scores.
+
It was utter nonsense.
If working hard made you a better dancer, executives would have already gathered all the office workers in the world for a spectacular talent show competition.
Other than that, the parts that stood out were ‘New Trainee’ and ‘Street Casting.’
‘Joined through street casting?’
Nine years ago, in February, on the street, idol casting.
Something seemed to be coming back to me.
I vaguely remembered someone stopping me on my way home, right before I started university.
I think I got a business card while I was on the phone with my sister.
I was quite skeptical when they handed me a card from UA, famous for its roster of ballad singers, and said they were forming an idol group.
I remember completely dismissing it, thinking they were scammers using another company’s name.
It wasn't the first time I'd received a business card related to idols, so I had completely forgotten about it.
It seemed my current self was in a situation where I had accepted that offer and joined the company.
‘The only male idol group that debuted from UA after that was Spark.’
Round and round I went, only to end up back at Spark. How could this be?
I had no idea what they saw in me to approach me, but as the pieces of the story started to fit, my mind slowly began to work again.
Getting worked up won't solve anything.
I calmly tried to summarize what I had learned so far as simply as possible.
1. I have returned to nine years in the past.
2. I have become a trainee at UA.
3. If I don't debut in a six-member boy group, I can't save my sister.
4. And I have to join that goddamn Hanpyeong Industries again. With a lifetime contract.
The situation was still a complete mess, but I could now accept reality.
If I thought of it as giving my sister 70 years' worth of birthday presents all at once—the ones I almost couldn't give her—maybe I'd feel better.
This time, I’ll be the one getting birthday presents with compound interest.
What the hell. I’ll just grit my teeth and bear it.
I struggled to compose myself.
Just then, an alarm went off above my head. To be precise, it was from above the wooden ceiling.
At the same moment, Center Emperor Choi Jeho, who was sleeping next to me, opened his eyes.
The same face from their pre-debut reality show, a nose bridge that wouldn't change even after nine years, and the slight furrow of his brow whenever he woke up due to his poor eyesight.
The moment I saw that face, a face I knew so well it was driving me insane, all my composure evaporated.
Instead, a deep-seated rage filled the void.
Can I do it?
Me?
A happy, cheerful debut with these infuriating bastards?
My stomach churned. My acid reflux was definitely acting up.
“Oh? You’re up right away too, hyung.”
At that moment, a bright voice, unbelievable for the morning, accompanied a face popping down from the ceiling.
Was it the light?
Gazing at the features that seemed to glow with a halo, I was momentarily at a loss for words.
The structure of his face was so surreal that for a second, I thought he wasn't human.
‘Don’t tell me that’s Cutie Pretty Visual-ry Lee Cheonghyun?’
His appearance was so remarkable that it briefly erased the wretched fate that tied us together from my mind.
After seeing this face, I felt I could even forgive UA for selling full-body mini acrylic standees of him for 23,000 won each.
Though, at the end of the day, he was still just a son of a bitch who got a major tan during his first long vacation, raising the difficulty of photo editing to the highest level.
You really see all sorts of things in life. To think a face like that could exist in the mortal world.
His round eyes, nose, and mouth, when put together, exuded a cool aura, giving Cutie Pretty Visual-ry Lee Cheonghyun’s face a mysterious quality.
“Jeho-hyung is an instant riser too. I really like our room’s lifestyle! The youngest is pleased!”
The guy was bright and cheerful from the morning on, for whatever reason.
Center Emperor Choi Jeho, however, didn't seem to be listening to him at all.
“Hyung! We eat breakfast at the practice room. Let’s get ready to go there first!”
Cutie Pretty Visual-ry Lee Cheonghyun explained kindly as he climbed down.
How many more days would I have to listen to these voices that sent shivers down my spine just by hearing them? My future looked bleak.
* * *
An hour later, I was standing inside the UA building with the future members of Spark.
UA, the company that had cast me, had long been known as a powerhouse of ballads.
Most of the artists under UA were ballad singers, each with at least one hit song to their name.
Then, for some reason, UA suddenly declared its entry into the idol market.
The place I had arrived at, the basement practice room, was a space UA had set up merely for show, for the purpose of training its trainees.
Spark's fans called this place the ‘UA-style Underground Prison.’
≫ A rookie group that released 2 songs has a 1 year and 2 month hiatus lol. Just say you don't wanna make money lmfao.
└ The kids must be pissed too. They debuted but got mysteriously shelved.
This was because Spark's hiatuses were incredibly long.
It got so bad that at one point, there were rumors that their "prison sentence" was extended every time a new issue arose.
For the record, this place wasn't unfamiliar to me either. I’d seen it to death while taking screenshots of their dance videos to analyze their synchronized choreography.
As I stood there, feeling a familiar sense of shittiness, someone approached me and struck up a conversation.
“It must be chaotic, having joined so recently, right? You said this is your first time as a trainee, Iwol-hyung, so I’ll give you a simple explanation of our practice routine first.”
It was Spiritual Pillar Jeong Seongbin, the future leader of Spark.
To me, Spiritual Pillar Jeong Seongbin was a godsend of a member.
Among the intense-looking members of Spark, he had the softest features, so I had memorized his face quickly.
Spiritual Pillar Jeong Seongbin explained various UA rules, including the trainers' schedules. His orientation skills were top-notch.
‘He’d be perfect for a job in new employee training...’
As I marveled at his gentle and clear pronunciation, Spiritual Pillar Jeong Seongbin hit me with a surprise question.
“Is there anything else you’re curious about?”
“No. Thank you for the explanation.”
I answered hastily, afraid he’d notice I was lost in thought, and his expression turned strange.
“Um, hyung. Didn’t we agree to speak casually yesterday?”
There was a trivial detail like that?
Seeing as Spiritual Pillar Jeong Seongbin, who was my senior by far as a trainee, was using honorifics with me, it seemed the hierarchy was based on age.
A conservative organizational culture wasn't my cup of tea. As someone for whom being a subordinate was a calling, it made me even more uncomfortable.
“I guess I’m still a bit awkward… you see. You can speak casually too, if you’re okay with it.”
“Okay.”
I hated dropping formalities with someone I just met just because I was older. But not wanting to cause any trouble, I decided to play along.
Fortunately, Spiritual Pillar Jeong Seongbin didn't press the issue further.
“Shall we start with stretching, then?”
With those dreadful words, Spiritual Pillar Jeong Seongbin stood up.
The time had come for me to break a sweat with my mortal enemies to achieve a common goal.
I want to go home.
I want to go home so, so badly.
The words I had etched into my heart every day as an office worker came to mind automatically.
Just then, my vision flashed white.
Ah, I’m not buying any more manuals or anything.
+
[SYSTEM] A task directive from the ‘Manager’ has arrived.
▶ You know how we hand out points as part of the company welfare program, right? Starting today, if you do well, you'll earn points. Not many places take care of you like this, you know? Anyway, Assistant Manager Kim, you're lucky. Don't waste them on useless things, use them where they're really needed.
+
But if it’s a material reward, that’s a different story.
The fact that it was points and not money was irksome, but as the one on the receiving end, I had to take what I could get.
But could they do something about that tone? Just reading it cut my motivation in half.
Still, for someone in my position who couldn't be picky, it was a good deal. Especially since my dance proficiency was hitting rock bottom.
‘Do I get a task if I beg for one?’
The situation of me asking for work was quite unfamiliar. Usually, work just poured down on me even when I was standing still.
I briefly wondered if I should kneel in the direction the text was appearing or just bow my head.
Fortunately, the tragedy of having to beg for work on top of being forced to debut did not occur.
+
[SYSTEM] A ‘New Task’ has been assigned.
▷ Complete 1 basic move
▷ Reward: EXP
+
Just one move, I should be able to manage that, right?
They must have given me a task that was possible with a dance proficiency of only 1. I steeled myself.
I can say with certainty that this was the most foolish decision I had made in recent memory.
* * *
Do you know how much practice trainees at idol groups in K-Pop powerhouse South Korea go through?
‘Fuck, fuck…!’
I didn't. And now I feel like I'm going to die.
Ignorance is indeed a sin. There was no other way to explain the trials and tribulations I was currently experiencing, if not as punishment.
“Kim Iwol, I told you to turn left.”
“Turning isn’t the problem right now. Hyung, be honest. You get your left and right hands mixed up, don’t you?”
I can at least tell that much apart.
But didn’t I just turn left?
“How can a person be this stiff?”
“He’s gone beyond stiff; he’s creaking. If his limbs are this free-spirited, his head will probably go on strike tomorrow.”
Center Emperor Choi Jeho and King Cute Kang Giyeon, the group’s dance members, were discussing the situation with the most serious expressions in the world.
Looking at the two responsible for the quality of their performances, I recalled a post I’d seen on an online community.
≫ But for a shitty company, UA gathered some damn good members, don't you think? lol. Not a single one of them is a weak link when it comes to skill.
For the entertainment of the public, we have added a clumsy one for you. My heart ached.
Center Emperor Choi Jeho, with his strong individualistic tendencies, seemed to not care much about this state of affairs.
On the other hand, King Cute Kang Giyeon, who had been famous for his perfectionism since way back, kept his cold eyes fixed on me.
For me, who got motion sickness just from looking at a photo of Spark for five seconds, this was the ultimate punishment.
After I had rampaged through the practice room like a broken-down runaway train, King Cute Kang Giyeon’s eyes gleamed. I could feel a murderous intent as sharp as the pointed corners of his eyes.
And I’m an expert at reading Spark’s expressions.
Sure enough, he spoke in a chilly voice.
“Hyung.”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t even think about going back to the dorm today.”
I suddenly remembered a junior colleague at work, an idol fan, who once muttered with empty eyes while eating a triangle kimbap in the break room.
She had asked if I knew the three great “don’ts.”
That was when… our team had been working overtime for three weeks straight, and an article came out that her favorite idol had bailed on a fan meeting, claiming to be sick, and gone to a casino.
I had forgotten the third one, aside from ‘tuna mayo,’ and ‘Oppa, don’t do everything you want to do,’ but King Cute Kang Giyeon’s version of ‘don’t’ was also quite biting.
After who knows how many repetitions of those inexplicable movements…
“Oh. You got it.”
“Do it again, quickly. Before you forget.”
The moment Center Emperor Choi Jeho’s flat approval and King Cute Kang Giyeon’s relentless go-ahead were given, my vision flashed white.
I thought it was a sign I was about to pass out, but it was the system. A persistent bastard, this one.
+
[SYSTEM] ‘Task’ completed.
▷ Reward: EXP (20)
▷ Accumulated EXP: 20
▷ Accumulated Points: 0
+
Twenty? Twenty?
After I suffered this much?
When my limbs are trembling?
This is ridiculous. It seems I’ve been taking this whole phenomenon way too lightly.
