The head of the Planning Team called Ms. Min Jugyeong’s name.

No more words were exchanged. The team lead left on the spot with my report in hand. Judging by a few glances, they must have silently agreed on how to handle this.

I lowered my eyes to the desk and waited to hear what they would say.

Then Ms. Min clasped both of my hands that were resting on the table.

“You must’ve just gotten used to things and been swamped getting ready for debut. You’ve been through so much.”

“...Pardon?”

The words caught me off guard. I was supposed to apologize for doing something no one asked me to do, but I even missed my chance to answer.

“I’m sorry. I spoke out of turn when I don’t even know that much...”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“It feels disrespectful toward people who’ve worked far longer than me. And it seems like I made the team lead angry because of me.”

“That’s not it, Iwol.”

Ms. Min was gentle but firm.

“The team lead stepped out because this is a really big problem. He went ahead to report it up the chain quickly. Thanks to you, we found out before the company took a loss, so you don’t have to feel sorry at all! All right?”

“...Okay.”

“And about what happened between you and PD Yu.”

Ms. Min released the hands she’d been holding.

I took that as a signal. A sign that from here, the story would unfold a little differently.

“So what are you asking me to do, exactly? HR is under Business Support—how hard is it to do a few favors for the department head?”

“Assistant Manager Kim, you’re so young. Your thinking is young. You have to assume there’s a reason a superior behaves that way. Frankly, how long have you even been in the workforce?”

The things I’d heard at Hanpyeong Industries seemed to morph, one by one, into Ms. Min’s voice.

But Ms. Min still acted against my expectations.

“We didn’t take enough care. It’s embarrassing that the Management Team failed to catch even something like that. I’m sorry.”

Ms. Min bowed her head and apologized.

What do you say at a time like this?

I’d never received this kind of apology, so I had no idea. I only hoped UA wasn’t the kind of company that lacked tolerance for employee mistakes and forced people to offer stiff apologies whenever trouble arose.

Unable to stand the unfamiliar air, I bolted from the conference room saying I’d better get back to practice. I felt strange.

When I flung open the practice-room door, five heads swung toward me in unison.

In the middle of a lively dance track that he didn’t even think to stop, Jeong Seongbin asked:

“How did it go...?”

I gave a thumbs-up.

“I ratted everything out.”

“Waaah!”

Lee Cheonghyeon pumped both fists and shouted. Maybe it was the background music, but the scene felt like a festival.

“What did the company say?”

Wiping off the sweat rolling down his face, Kang Giyeon asked.

No sooner had he finished than they clamped their mouths shut and stared at me.

“Nothing’s set right this second. But we won’t be working with him for a while.”

“Is that even possible? You said they probably wouldn’t take big measures right before debut.”

“That’s why I stuck the corruption issue on top. Maybe he’ll have to educate himself before he tries to meddle with us again.”

“Corruption?!”

Their eyes went round. It wasn’t a nice enough story to explain in detail, so I left it there.

“So from now on, let’s keep our heads on straight and practice. Seongbin and Juu, you’ll make up amicably after practice, right?”

At my words, Jeong Seongbin gave a sly smile and said, “Of course.” Park Juu was smiling faintly, too.

At the same time, a system window shimmered over Jeong Seongbin’s face.

 [SYSTEM] “Task” has been completed.

▷ Reward: EXP (50)

▷ Accumulated EXP: 100

▷ Accumulated Points: 1

 Fifty EXP was a stark indicator of just how trash of a human being Yu Hansu was.

Still, having climbed a brutal hill, I could raise my dance proficiency.

I also confirmed that, while I wasn’t looking, my vocal proficiency, self-PR, and in-organization adaptability each ticked up by one.

 Performance Evaluation (100)

— Vocal Proficiency: 8 (▲) / 20

— Dance Proficiency: 7 (▲) / 20

— Self-PR: 13 (▲) / 20

— Attendance Management: 18 / 20

— In-Organization Adaptability: 11 (▲) / 20

 There was another change.

With the end of the Yu Hansu mission, the “Accumulated EXP” line at the bottom of my résumé disappeared.

It seems the function naturally vanished once my proficiencies hit the ceiling of what I could raise manually.

After we drove out Yu Hansu, peace returned to the practice room.

To cut to the chase: he wasn’t fired. He was disciplined instead.

Additionally, he was barred from any involvement in UA’s idol division.

As long as he stays at UA, he’ll spend the rest of his days planning the Jang Junhu music video he was so proud of.

The Production Team lead was stripped of his position. He was demoted to deputy team lead, and the team lead seat is now vacant. I only hope they fill it quickly.

It was a satisfying ending for me, but maybe it didn’t look that way to the others; for a while I often heard them grumbling.

Since Jeong Seongbin and Park Juu had been at odds for a long time, they were careful with their words; Lee Cheonghyeon and Kang Giyeon, on the other hand, were unrestrained.

As soon as they ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) got back to the dorm, those two took turns venting that the punishment for Yu Hansu was far too light.

“I mean, if you hit someone, shouldn’t you be fired on the spot?”

“Be glad we won’t have to work with him. You think companies hand out discipline so easily?”

No sooner had I finished placating Lee Cheonghyeon...

“Does he look like the kind of person who’ll reflect just because he wrote one written apology?”

...than Kang Giyeon latched on and wouldn’t let go. They wouldn’t give me a moment from either side.

“What you see on the surface is a written apology. Since he was disciplined, that guy’s salary will be frozen next year, maybe even cut.”

“Hyung, when you say you do reference checks, you’re not only digging up stuff like that, right?”

Lee Cheonghyeon eyed me suspiciously as he asked. What can I say? That this is all I learned at Hanpyeong Industries?

I told them to go play in their rooms and turned back to my work.

With Spark’s debut imminent, I had to write the press release for the media.

It wasn’t like I’d earn EXP for it, so I’d planned to let UA handle the press release...

But they looked ready to stuff it with useless member award trivia and even an unreleased music video, so I said I’d write it. Better to die than suffer.

I’m used to writing this kind of copy. When the executives got tangled up in lawsuits, we spammed the news cycle and I cranked out press releases like a machine: “Hanpyeong Industries selected for Top 1,000 Great Mid-Sized Workplaces,” that sort of thing.

I still don’t know who decided a crap company like Hanpyeong Industries was a “great” workplace.

Or maybe there are seven thousand companies worse than Hanpyeong. Either way, who knows.

I was in the middle of “UA Enters a New Line of Business” when someone grabbed me from behind.

“Hyung! Do you have plans on January 1st?”

“Jesus...!”

As always, the back-hugging culprit was Lee Cheonghyeon.

Clutching my chest, I scolded him.

“Cheonghyeon. Do you know, or not know, that I’m someone who startles at the smallest thing? What if I messed up and hit you with my elbow?”

“That’s why I gave you a really tight hug full of love. The restraint was no joke, right?”

“Would you still say that if I’d clipped your chin with the back of my head?”

“I will exercise extreme caution from now on.”

He covered his chin with his hand. Should’ve done that to begin with.

“I’m free on New Year’s Day. Why?”

“Oh, then let’s all go watch the sunrise!”

The sunrise.

What is this, asking for a workshop at the very start of the year?

Hiking.

The very soul of bosses—the hobby that would make managers all over the country climb a mountain today even if the world ends tomorrow. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

A demonic group activity that infiltrates everything from interviews to company clubs to exert its influence.

That hiking craze hit Hanpyeong Industries without fail.

Add Manager Nam to the mix, and the Hanpyeong execs ended up creating a bizarre group called the “Health/Teamwork Recovery Committee.”

And since I was forcibly fused to the department heads, I lugged two 1.5-liter bottles of water every weekend, trailing from mountain to mountain.

It wasn’t even water for me to drink, and the moment they made me carry all of it, that committee was doomed.

Unfortunately, contrary to my wish for the “Health/Teamwork Recovery Committee” to die quickly, it dragged on for ages.

I thought we were just climbing mountains, but later we even crossed the water to Jeju Island.

Of course, I booked all the ferry tickets. Out of pocket first, reimbursement later.

It got so bad the only goal I ever set proactively at Hanpyeong was “Abolish the Hanpyeong Mountaineering Club.”

My only consolation through it all was stamping the “200 Notable Mountains” series...

“Hyung? Why’d you suddenly stop mid-sentence?”

...or so it was.

I was so shocked I couldn’t answer his question.

My mountain stamps.

Even while I suffered those godforsaken hikes, I’d rationalized it with “well, collecting stamps is fun,” and they were my one and only motivation on my freedomless weekends.

Those stamps that were everything about my Hanpyeong life flashed through my mind.

Should I ask the system? If my stamps are still alive?

As soon as I thought that, the system popped up.

The response time was impressive enough to make me wonder if they had a separate customer service team...

 [SYSTEM] A task order has arrived from “Responsible.”

▶ “Assistant Manager Kim, that pen on your desk—was it your favorite? I was in a hurry and used it, but it broke. Next time buy a sturdier one.”

[SYSTEM] As “Subordinate” has moved to the past, all achievements previously earned by “Subordinate” are now void.

 ...All of them.

Damn it, give me back my verification stamps!