Assistant Manager Kim Hates Idols Chapter 456 - Break Period (1)

“Hyung!”

 

The moment I stepped into the dorm, Jeong Seongbin lunged at me. He hugged me tightly. Everyone was out in the hallway, as if they had all been gathered in the living room waiting for me. I wanted to greet them, but I had no energy left. I was exhausted.

 

After that, I stayed in bed the whole time. I spent my time sitting, leaning blankly against the wall. Manager Daeyeon and other staff members from the company visited, but I told them I wanted to be alone. I let a long time pass, staring at nothing but empty air.

 

Idle thoughts swelled up like bubbles, filling my head, only to burst in an instant. My mind, which I hadn’t been able to clear, gnawed at me in its murky state.

 

As the room grew dark, a knock sounded, and Jeong Seongbin poked his head in. He took out a few simple belongings and explained that, for the time being, the managers would take turns using this room.

 

Just as Jeong Seongbin said, once the bed’s owner stepped away, Manager Chanyoung came in and spread a thin blanket over the empty bed. I watched him quietly. From the living room, I could hear Manager Daeyeon setting up a place to sleep.

 

I had only blinked a few times, but seeing as I was now lying down, it seemed I had fallen asleep without realizing it. From that point on, at least one person was always guarding my room.

 

The managers took turns using the bed next to mine. They occasionally checked to make sure I was eating. When I refused a few times because I had no appetite, I was dragged to the hospital to receive an IV drip.

 

Upon returning, I lay back down and closed my eyes. Refusing food, listening and responding to others, even just understanding what someone was saying—it all felt like too much effort. It felt like I had used up all my energy on that choice.

 

I had lost my driving force, and I didn’t know what to use to move forward. Why I had to keep going, or how long I had to run on this path, was all unclear. I even began to think that doing nothing was better than making an unwise choice.

 

As if etched into my eyes, the system kept appearing. Even when I closed them, the text was as vivid as if it were carved onto the inside of my eyelids. When I pressed my eyes because I didn’t want to see it, someone would pull my hands away; when I covered my ears to shake off the voice of Manager Nam echoing from somewhere, someone else would pat my back.

 

It was all useless kindness. Even so, if Spark were ever placed on the scales again, I would likely powerlessly give up one side and regret it just as I was doing now. I was a person unworthy of receiving sympathy.

 

The past notifications of the system flooded my mind.

 

Disasters always arrive without warning, don’t they? How exactly do you plan to stop a natural disaster? How can a human defy what has already been decided?

 

The flashing lights and the blocks of iron falling from the air were vivid.

 

Why did that disaster require sacrificing either my sister or Choi Jeho? If it was dissatisfied with me changing Choi Jeho’s future, it should have imposed penalties at the point when Jeong Seongbin’s vocal nodules, Lee Cheonghyeon’s drug controversy, and Kang Kiyeon’s injury were erased.

 

Is there some grand reason for this, too? Am I just a stupid assistant manager who can’t understand the will of the high-and-mighty System?

 

I felt hollow and empty. Regret pierced my heart like a dagger.

 

Choi Jeho’s eyes, as he looked back at me, looking as if he were stamping my sister’s death certificate…

 

[SYSTEM] A work instruction from the ‘Superior’ has arrived.

▶ Assistant Manager Kim!

 

Maybe it was a hallucination, but the system lit up brightly before my eyes. It looked… joyful.

 

[SYSTEM] A work instruction from the ‘Superior’ has arrived.

▶ You haven’t resigned yet?

 

The text appearing in the system changed. It wasn’t an illusion; it was the real system. It continued to display new sentences.

 

[SYSTEM] A work instruction from the ‘Superior’ has arrived.

▶ I guess Assistant Manager Kim didn’t waste his time at the company after all. You’re finally pulling your weight. Right, if you’re a human, you should show some signs of improvement. You know how hard I worked to make a person out of you, right?

 

The fact that I hadn’t ‘resigned’—that I had made progress—could only be interpreted as me successfully enduring the urge to die and staying alive. To the system, that was apparently a joyous thing.

 

As if proving my thoughts correct, the system’s message changed.

 

[SYSTEM] A work instruction from the ‘Superior’ has arrived.

▶ Remember what I said a long time ago? I told you to get paid as much as you worked.

 

I remembered. Along with the words that the company wasn’t that stingy.

 

[SYSTEM] A work instruction from the ‘Superior’ has arrived.

▶ Since Assistant Manager Kim has shown growth, I’ll do you a special favor just this once.

 

Then, the screen switched from work instruction to ‘Final Performance Reward’.

 

[SYSTEM] ‘Final Performance Reward’ is notified to ‘Supervisor’.

▷ Nullification of sister’s (blood relative) death and provision of reunion opportunity

 

The removed condition was ‘reunion’. It meant it was possible to save my sister.

 

Though meeting her again had become impossible, and what happened couldn’t be undone because of my mistake—at least, if the system didn’t pull something like this again…

 

At the same time, it was a warning that I should no longer try to strike deals using my life. Because the system gave me this chance ‘because I didn’t die’. If the system judged that I was no longer useful, it could revoke even the nullification of death at any time.

 

If I continued with this second challenge, could I make up for my mistake, even just a little?

 

Even if I succeeded, maybe I’d end up living a life of self-justification, satisfied only by the fact that my sister survived. But I didn’t want to lose this chance with the excuse of being ‘tired’. Because my sister had never weighed the pros and cons when it came to me during her life.

 

The fact that we could never meet again was sad. It was despairing. Because it truly meant the end for the sister in my memories.

 

Never being able to see her again was painful. 

 

But still, if I could at least leave behind the hope that she was alive somewhere…

 

I stared at the system.

 

‘Promise me one thing.’

 

Never test me at such a crossroads again.

 

Because I’m a weak person who falls short of the line the system drew as the limit of human capacity, and if I get pushed beyond that, I won’t grow stronger—I’ll just break.

 

‘That’s not what you want, is it?’

 

Just let me breathe.

 

The system readily accepted my request.

 

[SYSTEM] A work instruction from the ‘Superior’ has arrived.

▶ Good, keep working hard with this momentum until the end!

 

The system, which had become blindingly bright, soon vanished.

 

As the system disappeared, it felt as though it had snatched away my consciousness as well; I passed out right then and there.

 

***

 

There was no need to separately announce a hiatus. Thanks to the Bright promotions being completely over, fans naturally understood that the promotional period had concluded. Unless there was no news of a comeback for over six months, everyone would just think it was a normal inactive period.

 

With the exception of individual training, all group practices and lessons were canceled. My editing permissions for Dotion were also restricted—no writing allowed, only reading. Only Jeong Seongbin went to the company a couple of times to get a rough sharing of the revised annual schedule.

 

My condition must have looked poor, as exceptionally strong measures were taken regarding me. It took time for me to have a proper conversation with others, which made things even more serious. Even though I had ‘come to my senses’ in my own way after the ‘Final Performance Reward’ was updated, the aftereffects were significant.

 

First, my phone was changed. At the manager’s suggestion, I went back to using the 2G phone I had right after my regression. I could only use a smartphone with Jeong Seongbin’s permission when sending BubblePops.

 

My laptop had been taken away ages ago. When I asked where the shared laptop was, Jeong Seongbin replied:

 

“I won’t interfere with things like jotting down ideas or watching music videos and listening to tracks. But anything that involves monitoring or writing plans using a device is off-limits.”

 

Jeong Seongbin said he respected the energy I got from the process of working. He said that without that, I might get more stressed. Therefore, he asked me to engage in minimal activity but not to forget that this was a vacation.

 

The managers only withdrew after getting a promise that I would eat on time and sleep well. I heard that Jeong Seongbin had been staying in Park Joowoo’s room in the meantime. I really was causing trouble.

 

I let out a sigh every thirty seconds. I was at the point where I should be grateful that eating and sleeping had at least cleared my head a little. Unaware of the mess inside me, Lee Cheonghyeon came out to the living room carrying his study materials and tablet and chided me.

 

“The floor’s gonna cave in.”

 

“Are you studying for exams?”

 

There was still plenty of time until finals, but Lee Cheonghyeon spread out his books and said yes.

 

“I tanked my midterms. I thought I was gonna lose this semester entirely, but since a chance to make up for it appeared, I’m thinking of giving it a shot. I mean, when else would I be able to go all-in on studying? Besides, I’m bored without Kang Kyeon around.”

 

Kang Kiyeon had already left the dorm early for joint checkups and physical therapy. He had made hospital appointments as soon as the vacation was decided. He said he had to maintain himself in advance so he could be deployed in the right place at the right time.

 

Choi Jeho visited the action school he had been putting off—in fact, he went every single day. Seeing as he said his stress was relieved after going, he must have been swinging around iron pipes or something.

 

Jeong Seongbin went around challenging all the coin karaokes near the dorm. He even made a surprise appearance on a MeTube channel’s live stream that searched for talented ordinary citizens at karaoke rooms. When I saw Park Joowoo about to faint while looking at his phone, I checked what was going on and almost fell over myself.

 

The one who showed the most unique behavior was Park Joowoo. He began doing weight training in earnest—something he had never shown interest in his entire life. When he first got a PT lesson recommendation from Choi Jeho, I thought it would be a fleeting interest, but even though he returned home looking like a limp piece of kimchi four times a week, he didn’t stop exercising.

 

‘What brought this on?’

 

‘I realized the importance of strength on the deserted island….’

 

I shouldn’t have asked. I told him he was already strong and cool enough, but Park Joowoo didn’t listen.

 

‘I’ll come back with twice the muscle mass….’

 

Tears blurred my vision. Getting healthy was something I’d welcome with open arms, but I didn’t want Park Joowoo to become a 100% pure Deserted Island Human.

 

Kang Kiyeon patted me as I wailed. Seeing his shoulders getting broader each time, like he was shedding his skin every time he returned from the desert island, only made me more annoyed.

 

Anyway, everyone in Spark enjoyed their break in their own ways. And yet, every evening, they all came back to the dorm without fail. Despite having a long vacation, not one of them went to their family home or left for a trip. There were always at least three people in the dorm.

 

‘Looks like they figured out I felt guilty about the activities being halted because of me.’

 

They were worried I might bolt from the dorm again, yet they didn’t want me to feel like I was a burden to them. The unspoken implication of ‘We’re enjoying our vacation on our own terms, so don’t blame yourself for the hiatus’ was loud and clear. It made me feel even more apologetic that as the oldest, I was making everyone worry so much, so I steeled my heart further.

 

Regardless, it was a relief that the guys didn’t take the vacation negatively. Instead, I was the only one left with nothing to do. I tried to play the game I’d encountered during the ‘Find a Hobby’ project, but I couldn’t pass Jeong Seongbin’s approval.

 

“If you promise not to play in a way that focuses on ‘efficiently’ accumulating overwhelming capital, I’ll give you the laptop.”

 

“There’s no point in playing the game then.”

 

And so, I was rejected.

 

There were other options, though—a method I had thought of to get back on my feet after hitting rock bottom.

 

I asked Lee Cheonghyeon, who was lying face down on his book, perhaps having lost his concentration.

 

“Cheonghyeon.”

 

“Yeah…?”

 

“I’m thinking of learning composition.”

 

“Huh?”

 

Lee Cheonghyeon’s upper body sprang up like a coil.