Chapter 04
“I’ll send you the front door password through messenger too. I come and go pretty often, but there isn’t an adult living here full-time, so just avoid going out very late at night.”
“Yes, thank you.”
A few days later, on Friday, I signed a trainee contract with MusicProve.
Since I had told them in advance, I was able to move into the trainee dorm right away. It turned out to be a villa about a ten-minute walk from the company building.
I followed Team Leader Lee Subin inside the dorm. She said it was a time when all the trainees would be home, so she would show me around and introduce me to the others.
“Did your parents say anything? If they’re worried, I can give them my contact information right away.”
“…I think it’s fine. I already told them.”
…That was a complete lie.
Well, I did tell them. I did, technically…
Whatever. Let’s just move on. It didn’t seem like the company would ever contact them anyway.
This place felt strangely familiar. This had always been EVERGREET’s old dorm—the one I used to visit occasionally. I just learned today that it had also been used during their trainee days.
Back then, Kang Sua would laugh and say she cooked and cleaned on her own just fine, but even so, the place had felt a bit dark.
Compared to then, it was definitely less worn down and much cleaner. Apparently, a cleaning helper now came once a week.
Team Leader Lee said all the trainees here so far had been minors, so she paid extra attention to the dorm. Yeah. I really had to stop her from quitting this company. No matter what.
“Oh, Jion unnie?”
“Hi, Hyunseo.”
The first one to come out was Go Hyunseo. She must have heard Team Leader Lee’s voice and come out of her room. She looked surprised by the sudden appearance of a third person.
I waved at her with the most harmless expression I could manage.
“So last time, were you here to sign a contract? …Sua unnie didn’t tell me that.”
“Um, no. That day was just for casting. I signed the contract today.”
“Ohh.”
Even though I summarized a lot in just a few words, Hyunseo nodded like she understood.
It seemed Kang Sua still hadn’t told her that I’d come for an audition. Well, nothing had been confirmed back then, so it would’ve been awkward to bring it up.
While I was chatting briefly with Hyunseo, Team Leader Lee gathered the others from their rooms and had them sit in the living room, then casually introduced me.
“This is Seo Jion. She’ll be practicing with you starting today. She’s twenty, so she’s your unnie.”
I bowed lightly toward the kids sitting on the sofa.
“I’m a bit short on time, so I have to leave now… You can handle introductions and room assignments yourselves, right?”
“Yes, it’s fine.”
“Alright then. I’m counting on you. See you Monday, everyone.”
I’d heard that everything related to idols was handled by the New Artist Development Team. Team Leader Lee really was busy.
After that, the four minors living in the dorm and I went through the most awkward, semi-forced self-introduction session imaginable.
“Well, I’ve seen you once before… I’m Go Hyunseo. I’m nineteen, and my main position is dance. If you have questions or don’t know something, it’s probably better to ask me than the others.”
She spoke slowly, clearly a bit awkward about reintroducing herself after we’d already met once.
“Hello, unnie! I’m Hyunjae. I’m a second-year high school student! My main position is also dance, and if I had to add one more thing… visuals? Ahaha, just kidding.”
Hyunjae really did look like a born idol, to the point where calling herself “visual” didn’t even sound arrogant. I’d thought this before too, but she was the kind of beauty that made you think, If she doesn’t become an idol, it’s a loss for the nation.
“I’m Joo Hyerin, sixteen years old. I still have a lot to learn, so I’m learning a lot from the older unnie-s. Please take care of me.”
“Why didn’t you say that part? Hyerin used to be a national figure skating representative!”
“Ah, Jaeyi unnie…! It sounds grand, but it’s really nothing. I was just lucky enough to do it for one season…”
Hearing Hyunjae mention her past, Hyerin’s face instantly turned red. She downplayed it, but remembering the videos I’d seen before, it was absolutely not “nothing.”
I’d never properly heard why she quit figure skating before. Maybe this time I would.
“Um… I’m Lee Hanbyeol. I’m the same age as Hyerin. I like singing, but I’m not sure if I’m good at it yet. Nice to meet you, Jion unnie.”
Hanbyeol had a round, adorable face overall. Her voice was uniquely pretty, and her looks reminded me of a baby bird, like a sparrow. I’d found her cute before too.
Seeing that she was almost as tall as me, at 165 cm, despite looking like that, had surprised me the first time. Maybe it was because she was still in middle school—her eye level still felt a bit lower.
“…Am I the last one?”
And finally, it was my turn.
Self-introductions were really hard. More specifically, that awkward air of having to get close to people you’d just met.
“I’m Seo Jion, and I’m twenty. I go to Seojeong Arts University with Sua—she’s vocal, and I’m composition. I was cast by the team leader, so I don’t have any trainee experience. I’m good at singing and composing, and I can play keyboard and guitar well… I’m not good at dancing. But I’ll do my best.”
Even though only I remembered our past encounters, the fact that I’d met them before made this introduction feel easier than expected.
“Nice to meet you. I’ll work hard too, and I’ll help however I can.”
That part was sincere, regardless of the system or anything else. Since I’d come back to the past, I wasn’t going to just watch these kids fail. I had to put preventive measures in place.
Of course, first I needed to prevent myself from becoming a burden because I was bad at dancing…
If I could’ve just worked as a producer instead of becoming an idol, that would’ve been so much better…
Anyway, that damn system was the root of all problems.
Seriously, someday I was going to find whoever made or ran that system and beat the hell out of them.
***
“Are you sure you’re okay with the top bunk? It might be uncomfortable.”
“It’s fine! I actually like the top bunk more!”
At Hyunjae’s words, I stopped refusing and unpacked my things on the bottom bunk.
There were two rooms in the dorm, and until now, two people had shared each room. Since I was moving in, Kang Sua said she didn’t want to be left out and would join soon, so eventually both rooms would become three-person rooms.
My roommates were Go Hyunseo and Hyunjae. Hyunjae happily gave me the bottom bunk, saying she preferred the top. She was energetic even as she got older, but thinking back, she must have been insanely cheerful when she was younger.
***
[CLEAR! ☆ ▷ Tutorial Quest: Join the agency ‘MusicProve’ ☆]
[Tutorial quest clear reward: 1 Quest Point has been granted.]
[Shop function unlocked. You can now use the Shop. (▷ View Shop Guide)]
The quest cleared the moment I signed the contract. I lightly tapped the flashing panel to receive the reward. It said some new function had opened, but I hadn’t checked it yet. Spending the weekend with the kids, I needed some mental space first.
I quietly opened the door to Hyerin and Hanbyeol’s room, then closed it again. They were sleeping peacefully—no need to wake them.
Hyerin and Hanbyeol were still third-year middle schoolers. There was a lot to say and a lot to do for kids this young. When I’d produced EVERGREET before, the thing I’d regretted most was their condition.
This time, I wouldn’t let it get that bad. Not for either of them.
I’d heard about the training system on the day of the audition, and honestly, I didn’t expect much. Team Leader Lee was basically doing the work of ten people, but budget issues were still impossible to overcome.
MusicProve’s CEO was… how should I put it? A textbook old-school fossil.
Maybe because he used to be a successful singer-songwriter in the 90s. I’d heard that he believed a real singer should grow on their own without learning too much or relying on others, and that he disliked hiring trainers.
With the CEO like that, how could anyone ask for a bigger budget? A full-time trainer was a dream. Right now, they only had a dance trainer once a week for two hours.
During my audition, the team leader said she was looking for members with strong vocals—probably because hiring professional trainers wasn’t feasible.
Then why did a company like this decide to raise idols at all?
Apparently, other higher-ups—not the CEO—pushed the idea, saying things like, “Idols are the trend these days,” “We can’t fall behind,” “The idol industry makes money,” and “Idols are singers anyway, so what’s the difference?”
But when the actual idol launch didn’t get the reaction they expected, instead of supporting and promoting the group more, they just abandoned it.
What kind of idol doesn’t have their own content these days? But MusicProve managed to pull that off. The members had to film and edit everything themselves just to get it uploaded.
Cheap, careless, irresponsible team management.
All of this was stuff Kang Sua had told me in the past. Truly, a terrible agency worthy of an investigative news program.
I’d heard that after the team leader who handled almost everything related to the idol team quit, there was no one left on the girls’ side inside the company. That team leader turned out to be Lee Subin.
Putting together what I’d heard and what I’d seen myself, a goal naturally formed.
As long as I stayed at MusicProve, I would absolutely stop Team Leader Lee from resigning.
Honestly, if it were up to me, I’d want to keep the kids from getting dragged into this exhausting company situation in the first place…
***
[▷ Goal: The success of the idol group ‘EVERGREET’]
But the system kept threatening my life and demanding EVERGREET’s success.
Let’s be realistic. I wasn’t some genius who could start an agency at twenty and make idols successful from nothing.
Which meant we were all stuck together in this crappy company.
“Jaeyi, can you wake the kids? Let’s eat.”
“Huh? What is it?”
“Kimchi stew. There was kimchi in the fridge, so Hyunseo and I went out earlier to buy ingredients.”
“Wow, unnie, you’re the best! I’ll go wake Hyerin and Hanbyeol!”
Hyunjae, clearly excited, ran straight into the room the younger kids used.
I… chose the second-best option: just being good to the kids.
Maybe it was my way of apologizing for not telling them to run away, even though I knew this company’s future was garbage.
I’d heard that it would take four or five years before they even started cooking anything themselves. Before that, they lived on instant food, delivery, or diet chicken breasts.
Middle and high school kids living like that? As if things weren’t hard enough already. At the very least, they should eat properly.
On Sunday evening, I cooked kimchi stew for two middle schoolers who still looked sleepy even after a long nap, and two high schoolers who said it had been a long time since they’d had home-cooked food.
For the record, I wasn’t especially good at cooking or fond of it. I’d just picked up some basic survival skills while living alone. Still, everyone ate well and said it was good, which made me strangely grateful.
Well… saying I wasn’t trying to build the image that “people who feed you are good people” would also be a lie.
Anyway, good is good.
***
That night, once I finally had the mental space to look at the system, I lay in bed and opened it.
The translucent panel, which I was slowly getting used to, filled my vision. I hadn’t known before, but apparently I could control it just by thinking.
PROFILE
Name: Seo Jion
Age: 20
Affiliation: MusicProve
HP ♥♥♥♡♡
VOCAL Lv.39
DANCE Lv.8
SPECIAL – Composition/Producing Lv.53
Instrument: Guitar Lv.81
Instrument: Piano Lv.79
Instrument: Bass Lv.55
Trait – Tuning (A): Turning dissonance into harmony. A sharp sense that detects problems faster than anyone else and quietly corrects them, with quick problem-solving ability.
Achievement Points (Locked)
Shop (▷ View Guide)
IF: NOW …
▷ Goal: The success of idol group ‘EVERGREET’
▷ Current Mission: As a member of EVERGREET, lead a successful debut! (Time limit: D-358)
The noticeable changes were my affiliation and the unlocked shop function. Otherwise, nothing had really changed.
I opened the shop guide.
SHOP
- In the shop, you can purchase desired items and functions using specific currencies.
- Available currencies include Quest Points and Achievement Points. In special situations, HP can also be used as currency.
Available Purchases
- Stat Up: Purchase with Quest Points
- HP Up: Purchase with Achievement Points
- Coming soon…
After reading the explanation, I was momentarily speechless.
Where should I even start?
Be glad that HP could be purchased at all?
Or curse this insane system that even allowed HP to be used as currency?
Ugh…
I let out a deep sigh and rubbed my forehead. It wasn’t exactly a headache—it felt more like my brain was overloaded with things to think about.
“Unnie, are you sick?”
“Ah—! You scared me!”
“Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Hyunjae must have seen me like this after coming back from showering. When someone speaks suddenly while you’re not even aware of their presence, it really feels like your heart might drop.
“It’s not bad. Just a little. I’m probably just tired.”
“Hmm… okay. If you can’t sleep, our medicine is… where was it again…?”
“Oh my god.”
What was I supposed to do with this clumsy high schooler? The look on Hyunjae’s face when she realized she’d forgotten where the medicine was mid-sentence was priceless.
“Hyunseo unnie! Where did we put the medicine?!”
“What, are you sick?”
“No, but Jion unnie says her head hurts.”
“…Do you need medicine?”
Even Hyunseo, who’d been enjoying her own quiet time with earphones in, got dragged into the conversation.
I tried my best to calm the situation with a perfectly fine expression.
“It’s really not that bad. Just fatigue. Jaeyi was going to tell me where the medicine was in case I couldn’t sleep, but she forgot where it was.”
“Oh, it’s in the kitchen cabinet above the table. Medicine and the first-aid kit.”
“Oh right, the kitchen.”
“I’ll check later if I need it.”
“If it gets worse, tell us. We’ll tell the team leader and go to the hospital in the morning.”
“It’s really not that serious… And you guys have school tomorrow.”
Only after carefully explaining again that it was just mild fatigue did I finally escape the minors’ concern.
For modern people, headaches and fatigue are old friends. But these kids… well, it was probably better than not caring about their health at all.
After some time passed and my roommates seemed to be asleep, I checked the system again in the dim room.
First, the stat-up function. HP wasn’t something I could deal with right now.
***
STAT UP
VOCAL Lv.39 → 40 pts
DANCE Lv.8 → 5 pts
SPECIAL – Composition/Producing Lv.53 → 160 pts
Guitar Lv.81 → 1280 pts
Piano Lv.79 → 640 pts
Bass Lv.55 → 160 pts
Owned Quest Points: 1 pt
The system had clearly sold its conscience somewhere.
The units were ridiculous. One measly point for clearing the tutorial quest. Sure, higher levels should cost more, but this was extreme. It felt faster to improve through actual practice.
At that moment, the system chimed with a clear notification and opened a new window.
***
[▷ Limited-Time Daily Quest: Point Up, Level Up!]
…And what was this now?
I read the information with a wary expression.
[Complete daily quests for 14 days to earn points!]
[▷ Quest: Practice hard and raise your level.]
[During the quest period, 1 Quest Point is awarded per 1 hour of actual practice time.]
[Duration: 1 day / 14 days]
Oh?
This was actually pretty useful.
The phrase “actual practice time” suggested the system would track it itself and try to prevent cheating, but for catching up in dance, there was no better quest than this.
And since it didn’t separate categories, points earned from vocal practice could probably be invested into dance. That alone was hopeful.
The point costs were still brutal, sure… but I wasn’t too worried.
In Korea, people who are said to be good at studying usually fall into three types:
One, those born insanely smart.
Two, those who are smart and work hard.
Three, those who rely purely on effort—and are insanely good at enduring it.
I was definitely the third type.
Enduring mind-numbing repetition? I’d already done that throughout my school years, cutting sleep to survive. Why wouldn’t I be able to do it with dance?
And composing? That was pure grind labor. On a normal day, rewriting lyrics four times, swapping virtual instruments eight times, and revising the topline six times was nothing special.
Grinding. Waiting it out. Endurance. Endless repetition.
That was my specialty.
I would make the system regret ever giving me this quest.
