Assistant Manager Kim Hates Idols

Every Korean had experienced school days at least once.

 

A student who was trying to bring a line-marking tool to the storage room found an unknown box in the corner of the room.

 

Debating whether to throw it away, they opened it to find items left behind by unknown students,  things that might not be valuable but somehow feel too precious to discard…

 

“…And that’s the concept of this album package.”

 

With these words, my unconventional presentation came to an end.

 

There were various reactions in the meeting room regarding the concept album ‘The Secret Box Left Behind by Spark.’

 

Some thought it was too experimental, while others felt it was too elaborate for a mini-debut album.

 

All of these opinions were within my expectations. So, I presented the cost analysis, references, and viral reactions from social media for concept-driven albums, all carefully prepared.

 

For the opinions that it was too elaborate…

 

“I think losing traction right after debut would cost us more in the long run.”

 

I refuted with these words.

 

Come to your senses, people.  If this flops, Spark won’t see the light of day for the next two years after their debut.

 

As I stood there quietly, hoping for a positive review, the CEO called out to me.

 

“Iwol.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Open that community reaction page again.”

 

When I opened the page, the CEO stared at the screen for a few minutes without saying anything. It seemed he was trying to read all the screenshots.

 

And after a while, the CEO opened his mouth.

 

“Team Leader Jang.”

 

“Yes, CEO.”

 

“The planning team, develop Iwol’s plan together and submits it to us. When the time is right, let’s have Iwol sit down for a meeting.”

 

It was an approval. I felt a weight lift off my chest.

 

Of course, this joy didn’t last long.

 

Not long after the meeting ended, Yoo Hansoo called me through the manager.

 

When I heard that Yoo Hansoo was looking for me, I didn’t think much of it.

 

At best, he probably would just vent his frustration about his plan being useless.

 

But as soon as I entered the meeting room, I could tell.

 

This guy was really pissed.

 

Yoo Hansoo reclining so far back in his chair that it was on the verge of tipping over, stared at me and, without any greeting, asked:

 

“Hey.”

 

“Yes, PD-nim.”

 

“Am I a f*cking joke to you?”

 

It was raw emotion, surprising that he’d reveal it to someone 20 years younger than him.

 

Thankfully, I had enough common sense not to escalate things.

 

I clasped my hands together politely and replied, ‘No, I don’t’.

 

But Yoo Hansoo didn’t believe me.

 

“What do you mean no, you piece of ***?  Do you think I haven’t seen punks like you before?”

 

Amazing. I thought he only learned how to be a bully during his career, but maybe he learned how to read people’s minds too?

 

Yoo Hansoo sighed dramatically, as if to show just how angry he was.

 

I, Mr. Kim, a 29-year-old office worker who was not afraid of sighs, had to wait quietly for Yoo Hansoo’s next words.

 

What kind of words would Yoo Hansoo say to me?

 

Do you like making fun of your boss? Or do you feel like you’ve achieved something just by getting praised once?

 

I wasn’t too worried since I’d probably heard that at the Hanpyeong Industry at least once.

 

Just then, Yoo Hansoo opened his mouth.

 

“You, be honest with me.”

 

“I don’t know what you mean.”

 

“Whose parachute are you?”

 

Wow. That was a new one.

 

This was a fresh assumption that a HR staff, who knew the personal details of the employees, would never have heard. Bonus points for creativity.

 

‘More importantly, this guy is beyond saving.’

 

Yoo Hansoo wasn’t even considering the possibility that my proposal succeeded by chance.

 

To him, it was only because of some connection I had.

 

It seemed Yoo Hansoo had never actually seen a parachute.

 

In that sense, I’d seen so many that I had gotten sick of them, and I’d never lived the life of a parachute, so I could confidently respond.

 

“Yes?”

 

With a mocking tone that asked ‘What nonsense are you spouting out?’

 

Yoo Hansoo’s expression distorted in response to my sneer.

 

“Did you just laugh at me?”

 

Yoo Hansoo asked.

 

Yes, I just did, you b*tch.

 

Wouldn’t you laugh if you were me?

 

For the first time in my life, I’d reached a historic moment where I could actually stand up to my boss.

 

It was absurd that he went around spewing insults and abusing his power, yet expected a trainee like me to not even laugh.

 

Yoo Hansoo’s face turned red when I didn’t even say ‘I’m sorry’ like I had always done.

 

“I knew you were this kind of punk. You teamed up with the Planning Team Leader, didn’t you? The CEO seems to like you, so you probably got the proposal from Team Leader Jang and passed it off as your own, didn’t you?”

 

Yoo Hansoo got up from his seat and jabbed at my shoulder with his finger.

 

There was only one thing I could say to Yoo Hansoo.

 

“I don’t do things like that.”

 

I looked at his clenched fist, trembling with anger, and continued.

 

“Someone else might though.”

 

As soon as I finished speaking, Yoo Hansoo pulled back the hand that jabbed at my shoulder.

 

And in the next moment, with a dull thud, my head snapped to the right.

 

For a moment, everything was silent, as if time had stopped.

 

But then, gradually, I began to hear the sounds that made the situation clear, even without seeing: Yoo Hansoo was breathing heavily, seething with rage.

 

Still facing the other way, I cautiously lifted my left hand to my cheek.

 

Pain came slowly and belatedly.

 

Did this b*tch really hit me just now?

 

Why on earth? In this situation, there was nothing he could gain by using violence.

 

Was it just because he was angry and impulsive? This guy, who knew how to use his brain to suck up to people and made a living out of it?

 

Maybe it was because of the blow to my head, but I couldn’t fully grasp the situation.

 

However, unlike me, Yoo Hansoo’s face only showed a look of anger, and I couldn’t see the shock that might come from unconsciously hitting someone.

 

When I lowered my gaze, I saw Yoo Hansoo’s fist still clenched.

 

Hitting someone with the palm of your hand would have been bad enough, but he even hit someone with his fist? And right to the face at that?

 

And in the middle of winter, when my face was already frozen from the cold? Just because he’d been sitting comfortably in the warm meeting room?

 

Let’s say it was me who got hit this time. Then, how could I guarantee that he wouldn’t hit someone else next time?

 

The feeling that had been nothing more than annoyance gradually turned into anger. I thought of Jang Junhoo throwing an empty water bottle, and my mood went sh*t.

 

I looked straight at Yoo Hansoo in front of me and said.

 

“PD-nim, are you the kind of person who hits people?”

 

“What the f*ck did you just say to me?”

 

People who hit others didn’t deserve to be treated with respect.

 

That was my principle and belief.

 

“You seem to have a habit of throwing punches. You want to hit me a few more times?”

 

“Hey!”

 

“Why are you the one yelling when I’m the one who got hit?”

 

When I threw that question, Yoo Hansoo paused.

 

F*ck.

 

I didn’t know how to describe this feeling. It was just so annoying.

 

Yoo Hansoo, who hit me and then lashed out at me as if I was at fault.

 

In similar situations, Manager Nam, who didn’t touch me but used a file or a ballpoint pen, and tried to harass me in all sorts of ways.

 

My parents, who hit me until I hated getting hit so much.

 

And me, who barely made up my mind to confront Yoo Hansoo only after getting confirmation from the unknown entity called the system.

 

In a situation where there was no device to record the current conversation, it was meaningless to continue talking to Yoo Hansoo.

 

However, I couldn’t help feeling like something that had been suppressed was about to burst out. As if a screw had come loose, my mouth wouldn’t stop.

 

“Does the CEO know that PD-nim is going around assaulting trainees like this?”

 

“Assault? Don’t try to make a big deal out of it by using strong words. Do you think I don’t know that you’re trying to manipulate the situation?”

 

“How could I possibly manipulate anything? I can’t even think straight after getting punched.”

 

No sooner had I said this than Yoo Hansoo slapped me across the face again.

 

He even hit the same spot. Seriously, where’s the garbage truck when you need it to take out this trash?

 

As I cursed inwardly, my cheeks burned and they stung. The bones in my face were throbbing.

 

Even then, Yoo Hansoo grabbed me by the collar, still unsatisfied.

 

“You little punk, I’ll make sure you’re blacklisted in this industry no matter what.”

 

“Blacklisted?”

 

“You’ve only been a trainee for six months, so I guess your pride’s still intact, huh? It’s easy for someone like me to bury a nobody like you. Got it?”

 

“Do I need to know?”

 

I pulled out the MP3 player I usually used during vocal practice, an old device with no real function except for playing a few stored songs.

 

“If I had this one, someone else would be blacklisted before me, right?”

 

When I showed him the MP3 player that only had about ten songs on it, Yoo Hansoo ran up to me and forcibly forced my hand open.

 

Then he screamed at me with a mixture of curses and stepped on the MP3 player until the screen broke.

 

Shortly after throwing that tantrum, Yoo Hansoo stormed out of the meeting room, unable to control his anger.

 

Once his footsteps completely faded away, I finally let out a deep sigh, full of mixed emotions.

 

“Whew…”

 

Sure, it felt good to piss him off, but now I was a trainee who’d been slapped twice and lost my MP3 player. How pitiful.

 

Still, I couldn’t just leave the trash behind, so I crouched down to gather the shattered pieces of the MP3. As I did, I cooled my head and replayed the recent events in my mind.

 

‘No matter how you look at it, he seemed way angrier than necessary.’

 

For people like him who sucked up to higher-ups, image management was important. That way, they could manipulate others with their words more easily.

 

Yoo Hansoo, who had just started working at a new company, couldn’t possibly not know that.

 

It didn’t make sense that Yoo Hansoo would throw all that away and risk such a high-stakes outburst over a few words from me.

 

He even hit me in the face.

 

Earlier, I provoked Yoo Hansoo by asking if he had a habit of hitting people, but truly vicious people hit in spots that didn’t show. In that sense, Yoo Hansoo didn’t seem to be a calculating abuser.

 

‘There must be something.’

 

Something triggered him to throw a punch without caring about the image he had worked to maintain.

 

As I thought about what nerve I might have struck, I carefully wrapped the broken MP3 pieces in some scrap paper from the meeting room to make sure no one would get hurt by the fragments.

 

Then I put the wad of paper containing the remains of the MP3 in my pocket and headed to the practice room.

 

I didn’t think he would go that far, but just in case Yoo Hansoo would rummage through the trash, worried I might have recorded something, it’d be bad if he found out the MP3 had no recording function.

 

If he found out that I had deceived him, that guy might hit me on my right cheek and then my left cheek.

 

Compared to the other members, my face was already far inferior, so I had to protect it from getting hurt.

 

Thinking that I should take this trash to the dorm, I opened the door to the practice room.

 

The sound of music playing made it clear that the guys hadn’t stopped practicing in my absence.

 

“I’m sorry I’m late. Did the practice go well?”

 

“No… Hyung?”

 

Jeong Seongbin, who ran to the music player as soon as I came in and turned off the music, asked with a suddenly serious expression.

 

“Hyung. What’s wrong with your face?”

 

Face? What’s wrong with my face?

 

I raised my hand to the left side of my face that Jeong Seongbin was staring at.

 

A sharp sting, like an electric shock, ran across my skin.

 

Everyone else’s eyes were also on my face. A chill ran down my spine.

 

Right.

 

If your skin got hit, it would show right away.

I hope my mother in the next room didn’t hear me groaning and sobbing throughout translating this chapter.