Assistant Manager Kim Hates Idols Chapter 513 - Explosion (1)

“Manager, I’m really fine.”

 

I did everything I could to convince the manager, who had accompanied me as my guardian, that I was okay. But he refused to budge.

 

“Just get examined and wait for the results. If they say there’s nothing wrong, I’ll take you back to the dorm.”

 

“But…”

 

“Even a minor traffic accident isn’t something you can ignore, and you actually got hit.”

 

The smell of blood lingered as the manager spoke. It seemed the source was my forehead, which had been stinging for a while now.

 

Aside from a dull ache where I had hit the ground hard, I wasn’t in much pain. For someone who had been hit by a car, it was just a level of muscle soreness that felt almost embarrassing to complain about.

 

“Other than the head, there don’t seem to be any external injuries, but do you feel dizzy or anything?”

 

I was lucid enough to answer all the paramedic’s questions myself. The information that leather clothing was the best thing for preventing abrasions had turned out to be incredibly useful. Aside from the scraped skin on the back of my hand, the rest of my clothes had taken the damage instead of my skin.

 

The wound on my head wasn’t a big deal either. It was just a laceration where one side of my forehead had been grazed. Because it was near a blood vessel and the cut was long, it had bled a lot, making it look horrific, but the treatment was finished with just a few stitches.

 

As a result of today’s incident, I ended up with a stitched scar across half of my forehead. But was that really important? It wouldn’t even be visible if I wore my bangs down. For the price of saving two lives—including my sister—I considered this a bargain.

 

As I was wheeled from place to place on the hospital bed, undergoing one examination after another, my thoughts refused to gather into one coherent whole, scattering in every direction.

 

The manager is here with me, but did the child return safely to their family?

Was that bastard arrested?

What if my interference had somehow caused someone else to get hurt?

And this weekend’s concert…

 

The manager tried his best to calm me down as I paced restlessly. While explaining my current medications to the medical staff, he checked my condition and constantly looked for anything I might need.

 

But this time, I refused to back down as well. I knew perfectly well that if there weren’t tangible results, then what I’d done had been nothing more than reckless whim.

 

‘If you won’t tell me what happened, then I’m not getting treated. I’ll go back there myself.’

 

Eventually, the manager raised the white flag. Normally, he would never have shared outside news at a time like this, but he made calls everywhere to grasp the situation for me.

 

Fortunately, the child was safe. I couldn’t even describe the relief I felt hearing that. They said the child wasn’t injured at all, just a bit startled. There was no better news than knowing the crying hadn’t been from pain.

 

I also heard that the driver had been arrested at the scene in the act. The story of a man causing a drunk driving accident in the middle of a major intersection spread like wildfire due to the numerous witnesses and the celebrity victim.

 

The perpetrator’s face, either poorly pixelated or entirely uncensored, circulated on all sorts of social media. Within three hours of the incident, his personal information was leaked. I didn’t even need to check to know how fast the articles and videos were spreading.

 

For the trial regarding the traffic accident, I decided to appoint the same lawyer who handled the lawsuit against my parents. The bastard was filthy rich—he’d readily paid whatever settlement amount my parents demanded in my previous life—so even if he tried crying that he couldn’t afford the court costs for my case as well, I doubted the court would accept such an excuse.

 

My synchronization rate rose by exactly 3%, as the System had promised. Since nothing hurt especially badly, it seemed I hadn’t crossed the threshold that would trigger another synchronization check.

 

“Mr. Iwol, how do you feel now? Does anything feel sore or hurting?”

 

Manager Daeyeon asked with a gaunt face. He’d gone back and forth between the emergency room and the waiting area more than five times while taking calls from the company and the police station.

 

“If anything feels even slightly off, tell me immediately. You know we can never be too careful, right?”

 

“Yes, but I’m really okay.”

 

I avoided his eyes as I answered, feeling guilty. Seeing that, the manager asked if I was sleepy and covered me with a blanket, telling me to take a nap. I couldn’t bring myself to say that I was actually suffering from a severe case of conscience-ache.

 

After countless examinations, including an MRI, the doctors concluded that aside from a few injuries, I was perfectly fine. I also received a positive answer that while there might be pain from the heavy impact, it wouldn’t last long.

 

The manager, who had been more shocked than I was, let out a sigh of relief. Manager Chanyoung also arrived to check on me, and the two of them teamed up to fuss after me.

 

“I saw the video and your face looked a mess, so I thought something terrible happened… Are you sure there’s no hairline fracture? It looked like you’d been cut this much.”

 

Manager Chanyoung measured a full handspan over my forehead. It was an obvious exaggeration, so I narrowed his fingers slightly, only to receive a sharp glare.

 

“The width isn’t even 1mm.”

 

“If it had split open that wide, we’d have a much bigger problem. Besides, your wound is deep.”

 

I’d spoken up for nothing and only managed to make things worse for myself. Manager Daeyeon took out his notebook and spoke.

 

“They say he’s fine for now, but to come back immediately if he feels dizzy. I already scheduled a follow-up appointment for next week.”

 

“He had surgery before too, didn’t he? I was worried this might’ve affected the area that was treated last time.”

 

“I already asked them. They said they didn’t see any problems.”

 

Subjected to a storm of concerns, I kept my mouth shut and just waited for the moment I could go to the dorm. I felt like I would be all better as soon as I lay down in my cozy, soft bed.

 

* * *

 

Only after I was officially discharged and finished all the paperwork could I finally return to the dorm. Even during the short car ride, a lot happened.

 

Before I could even turn on my phone, UtopiA had already posted an announcement regarding my absence from the two-day Seoul concert that marked the start of the tour.

 

“But I’m really fine?!”

 

“What if makeup or hair wax gets into the stitches and causes an infection? Or what if the wound reopens during the concert?”

 

I tried protesting, but Manager Daeyeon patiently lectured me instead.

 

“Traffic accidents are never something to take lightly. You might feel fine on the day it happens, but there’s no telling when muscle pain or other symptoms might appear. There’s a reason insurance still covers treatment even if you don’t receive it until weeks after an accident.”

 

“…”

 

“If you think about the members and the fans, this is one time where you should give in, Mr. Iwol. Sit out this week’s concerts, and we’ll decide about the next ones later based on how your recovery goes.”

 

And so, unable to argue, I accepted the notice. Come to think of it, if they had let me perform, the agency would be pelted with stones over an idol overworking controversy.

 

A company that put an idol who just got into a traffic accident onto a concert stage that same weekend—thinking about it now, that would never result in good PR. It would make the audience anxious, too, so perhaps it was better to take measures so they could quickly apply for refunds.

 

“The others are going to have a rough time.”

 

Changing a 6-person formation to a 5-person one was no easy task. Spark’s choreography was already incredibly intricate, and it wasn’t just one or two songs that needed to be revised.

 

‘It’ll be a close call whether everyone can match it even if they stay up all night…’

 

My heart felt heavy. Since I had disrupted work by acting for my personal goals, I vowed to cooperate in setting up emergency measures as quickly as possible.

 

“Don’t do anything today and just rest. I’ll stop by again when the members finish work.”

 

Manager Daeyeon gave me one last stern warning before pushing me inside the front door and leaving. It seemed he was being considerate of the fact that I could rarely stay still when the managers were around.

 

Suddenly, I was left all alone.

 

‘I should wash up and change my clothes before the kids get here.’

 

Thinking that, I headed toward the bathroom—only to freeze in shock. My reflection in the mirror looked awful.

 

Bedhead hair, a piece of gauze slapped onto my forehead, and a face that still had mottled marks despite Manager Daeyeon’s diligent efforts with wet wipes—that was just the start. The clothes I was wearing were a mess, covered in dirt and bloodstains, not to mention parts that were frayed or torn.

 

“No wonder they said the concert was absolutely out of the question…”

 

Furthermore, I would like to express my gratitude to my body for enduring this accident. The protective gear and all that practice had certainly helped, but honestly, I’d gone into it fully prepared for the possibility of breaking a bone. Considering that, I was more than satisfied that I hadn’t suffered any serious injuries.

 

Being careful not to get my forehead wet, I washed up, changed into clean, soft clothes, and lay down on the bed. Little by little, I could feel the tension leaving my body.

 

“Whoa, the screen is completely shattered…”

 

It looked like I might get a glass shard in my finger if I touched it. Left with no choice, I turned on my laptop and logged into the messaging app, only to be greeted by a staggering number of notifications. The undisputed champion was, of course, Spark’s group chat.

 

[Cutie Pretty Visually Lee Cheonghyeon]

[They said it’s hard to call you at the hospital, so I’m messaging.]

[Daeyeon hyung said you weren’t seriously hurt, but is that really true?]

 

[King of Cuteness Kang Kiyeon]

[Hyung, are you coming back to the dorm today?]

[They said you don’t have to stay in the hospital?]

 

[Mental Pillar Jeong Seongbin]

[I heard you had to get stitches on your forehead.]

[There was a lot of blood, are you sure you aren’t dizzy?]

[Should we buy something to bring to the dorm?]

 

[Cutie Pretty Visually Lee Cheonghyeon]

[What about your head??]

[Did you get a CT scan??]

[Do whatever the hospital tells you to do, no matter what.]

 

[22-Year-Old Metal Marble Park Joowoo]

[I’m worried, so reply when you see this.]

[Even just one emoji is fine ;-;]

 

[Mental Pillar Jeong Seongbin]

[Hyung, don’t look up articles or videos today.]

[When you’re discharged, go in and rest immediately.]

[Tell us if you need anything and we’ll buy it on our way in.]

 

.

.

.

 

No matter how much I scrolled, the conversation never seemed to end. Even while I was reading, a new message arrived.

 

[22-Year-Old Metal Marble Park Joowoo]

[Iwol hyung read the messages.]

 

[Me]

[Yeah.]

[You all have a lot to say.]

 

The moment I sent my reply, the phone lying in the room began vibrating. Over the horribly cracked screen, ‘Mental Pillar Jeong Seongbin’ was flashing. Instead of answering the call, I sent another message.

 

[Me]

[I can’t take calls.]

[My phone screen is completely shattered.]

[I might get tetanus just touching it.]

[1. I’m at the dorm now using my laptop.

2. I’m not hurt much and the stitches went well.
3. I got X-rays and an MRI and confirmed there’s nothing wrong.

[4. I’ve already washed up, so I’m going to rest now.

5. I don’t need anything, you guys just take a calming medicene and come home.]

[I’m sorry I can’t do the concert with you.]

[You’re coming home after the meeting, right?]

 

[Cutie Pretty Visually Lee Cheonghyeon]

[Joowoo hyung and I are leaving now.]

[Seongbin hyung said if you’re still using your laptop by the time we get there, he’s going to have words with you.]

 

[Me]

[Seongbin, you know I love you, right?]

[Seongbin.]

[Why aren’t you reading my messages?]

 

Despite my desperate cries, Jeong Seongbin did not check the messages until the end.

 

‘He must be completely focused on the meeting.’

 

I could see his resolve to finish the tour preparations as much as possible before coming. So as not to disturb the leader and the dance line who were facing an emergency, I left a message telling them to hang in there and turned off the messenger app.