[SYSTEM] The “work task” has been completed.

▷ Reward: Experience (20) paid

▷ Accumulated Experience: 60

▷ Accumulated Points: 0

 Up to here, fine. I was slowly getting used to the stingy-ass points anyway.

What pissed me off was the line that popped up next.

 [SYSTEM] A work directive from the “Person in Charge” has arrived.

▶ These days the newbies don’t know how to do anything. Back in my day, even if your senior didn’t teach you, you learned over the shoulder somehow. Office life’s gotten real comfy, huh? Assistant Manager Kim, step it up. Be grateful there’s someone giving you advice like this.

▷ Consolation payout: Experience (40) paid

▷ Accumulated Experience: 100

▷ Accumulated Points: 1

 Consolation payout, my ass.

Anyone can see it means, “You got publicly humiliated, so pull yourself together.”

This X-bastard was obviously enjoying the situation.

Even so, I was the one on the back foot. With no choice, I scraped together even that humiliation consolation payout and invested the single welfare point I’d eked out into Dance Proficiency.

 Performance Evaluation (100)

― Vocal Proficiency: 4/20

― Dance Proficiency: 2(▲)/20

― Self PR: 12/20

― Attendance Management: 18/20

― Adaptability Within the Organization: 10/20

Accumulated Experience: 0

Accumulated Points: 0

 The effect of raising a single point of proficiency showed up immediately in the individual practice that followed.

I could watch the video and not mess up the direction anymore.

Even me—the guy who flailed around even with mirror mode on!

"Do you not even remember which hand you eat with?"

"If I show you a normal clip you copy it as is, and if I show you mirror mode you do it reversed—what is that even?"

It was the moment Emperor Choi Jeho’s medley of harassment finally ended. I was moved.

As I was feeling the joy of growth and diligently watching the video the trainer filmed for me, Park Juwoo came over.

"...Do you feel like it’s starting to make sense?"

In his characteristically unhurried tone, Park Juwoo asked me, then squatted down beside me.

"I swear I’m ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) not trying to be funny, but not at all."

If you asked whether I understood it in my head—okay. After a few watches I could more or less grasp how each move connected.

Whether my body could output that was a different story.

Just because you see it doesn’t mean you can copy it.

If watching alone worked, I wouldn’t have ended up doing Hanpyeong-Industries-brand floor mats for a living.

While I was bitterly reflecting on my career path, Park Juwoo said,

"If there’s a part that isn’t going well... I’ll teach you from there."

Faced with a clumsy latecomer who’d barged in out of nowhere, the kid’s Silk Road of a personality made this new recruit a little moved.

But I wasn’t an airheaded adult who’d steal precious time from a budding dreamer.

Even enemies have lines they shouldn’t cross.

Park Juwoo wasn’t someone who needed to manage a passing acquaintance like Kim Iwol; he was talent who should dedicate himself to practice and hone blazing high notes.

So I politely turned down Park Juwoo’s offer—every minute and second was precious for him.

And it’s not like he actually wants to teach a newbie whose chest is full of hostility toward him.

"No, I already owed you yesterday."

"...Then just one section."

With that, Park Juwoo fiddled around and played the video on his spare phone.

"Here you move your left foot. One, two... Yes, like that."

"Really? So doing it like this works?"

"The moves are... right."

In the silence after “the moves are,” I could feel his complicated feelings as is.

No matter how I spun it positive, what I heard was basically “your road is long as hell.”

To a guy who sings well and dances well, my future—can’t sing and dances even worse—must look bleak.

But this really was huge progress. Yesterday it took me over thirty minutes just to move my feet twice.

And that was with Choi Jeho and Kang Giyeon holding me on either side and moving me. I got the full marionette experience, thanks.

“Is it okay for a person to level up this much from a single proficiency point?”

Whatever you say, the system really was a life cheat key.

I reflected on how just a few hours ago I’d been whining that my life was the hardest.

As I wobbled like a newborn giraffe and finished a single step, Park Juwoo asked,

"Are you having a hard time?"

"From your face, you look more exhausted than me."

"Hyung, you really... your stamina’s good."

Looking utterly drained, Park Juwoo gave a clumsy smile.

Maybe because he’s still young, he reminded me of a happy little farm puppy from a countryside house.

Even so, one-on-one training and a single smile aren’t enough to excuse saying five sentences across a fifty-minute radio show.

If time and opportunity are ever given, I will absolutely get revenge with thirty hours of smile practice for this kid.

Still, that day’s practice wrapped up fairly smoothly. With expectations set way low, I showed visible improvement.

Same as yesterday, I practiced two more hours and called it a long day.

No overtime compensation popped again, but it couldn’t be helped.

You can’t debut just because you finally managed two steps.

The only time I could think deeply about the system was dawn.

By day I was rolling left and right non-stop, clinging to my sanity.

By night I had to stay alone in the practice room and sway to dance tracks on the spare phone.

“Hoo.”

So the moment I washed up, I collapsed on the bed assigned to me. I needed time to sort out the mess in my head.

“The system said I was set as the producing member.”

If so, there’s a good chance that even the street casting—the trigger that got me into idols—took that point into account.

In reality, past SPARK had no member in charge of producing.

If the problem is UA has zero experience producing idols, well—yeah, that’s a problem.

I still remember a post from the day UA pulled that surprise—smacking a comeback promo live out of nowhere.

≫ UA has zero f***ing sense, right? When every boy group does personal lives, even in SPARK’s fifth year they won’t let them go live without staff? If you’re gonna do this, just post a monthly live schedule and piss us off—don’t slap on [surprise] and start broadcasting without notice.

If the company had just posted a few photos of SPARK eating, they’d have only gotten, “UA isn’t heartless, they’re just bad at their job.” It was truly a company that sucked at work.

I don’t know what they saw in me to give me this position, but if I want to debut safely, I should steer toward the producing the system told me to do.

I worked my brain, no memory of when I’d last used it. It takes a lot of effort to spin a desk worker’s mind caked in dust.

The one bit of fortune: later, Lee Cheonghyeon will take charge of composing for the team. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

Not that it’s possible anyway, but it was a big relief I wouldn’t have to single-handedly come up with ideas, write songs and lyrics, and set the concept.

Of course, even if I wrote a song, I couldn’t promise it would be something anyone could sing.

They say even if the sky collapses there’s a hole to crawl through—seems exactly right.

As I was letting SPARK’s dizzying concepts flash through my mind, the system appeared again.

Even so, I didn’t explode just because the system popped up. Maybe because I’d mentally converted it into a welfare-point notification.

 [SYSTEM] A work directive from the “Person in Charge” has arrived.

▶ I don’t care what Assistant Manager Kim did before. Kids who half-assed some internship somewhere always bring back bad habits. Drop what you used to do and go in fresh. Refresh. Got it?

[SYSTEM] A “new work task” has been assigned.

▷ Verify current personal particulars

▷ Consolation payout: Experience (60) paid

 Never mind. X-level infuriating.

Being able to say only X-like crap like that is a skill. Rage boiled up.

But more than anything, what felt ominous was a whole 60 experience.

And the attribute is “consolation payout,” no less.

Thinking something worse than public humiliation in dance class was coming made my vision go dark.

At this rate, by next month I might end up on UA’s rooftop shouting, “I love you, guys!”

Unless they comp me four straight weeks of seven-days-a-week overtime off, I’m not telling SPARK I love them.

“What exactly am I supposed to verify in personal particulars?”

On the back of the resident registration card I checked yesterday, there was a sticker with the address of SPARK’s current dorm. The move-in report to the new address was done.

My resident registration number was the same, and my name had already been legally changed.

“Name, resident registration number, address, education, military service, employment history...”

As I ticked through the basic personal particulars one by one, my thoughts stopped on one point.

Education.

“What date... is it now?”

February, nine years ago—the second week of February in the year I’d just turned twenty.

That was the week I got street-cast on my way to meet my older sister.

The week I borrowed 15 million won from her.

And the week I registered my regular-admissions acceptance at university.

“No way.”

My mind went blank.

With trembling hands I opened my phone. It showed February 13.

Unfortunately, if my memory was right, that was two days past the regular-admissions registration deadline.

I invoked every god I knew of and asked Lee Cheonghyeon to lend me his laptop.

Then I went to the regular-admissions registration confirmation screen.

After a few clicks, the exact same acceptance confirmation page I’d seen nine years ago appeared.

On the screen, my exam number had been switched to registration forfeited.

I refreshed again and again, logging in and out, but nothing changed. The educational background that at least got me into Hanpyeong Industries was gone.

I also learned something I really hadn’t wanted to know.

The 15 million won I’d borrowed from my sister was still sitting untouched in an account under my name.

“So three years of high school just turned into a blank.”

My head went hollow.

If I don’t debut as an idol, the penalty is reemployment at Hanpyeong Industries.

When I first saw that, I thought that was the worst possible ending for my life.

But they say there’s a basement under the sea.

At this rate, I might not even be able to go to Hanpyeong Industries even if I wanted to. I wasn’t some great talent.

For someone like me with no standout gifts, if I even lose my small, cute degree, what company would hire me?

 [SYSTEM] The “work task” has been completed.

▷ Consolation payout: Experience (60) paid

▷ Accumulated Experience: 60

▷ Accumulated Points: 0

 Tears welled up and I lifted my head.

It was despair so deep that sixty experience points of consolation wouldn’t touch it.