Assistant Manager Kim Hates Idols

I was speechless for a moment.

 

Even at a glance, my back beyond the mirror looked like it had a lot of stories to tell.

 

A jagged scar ran diagonally from between my shoulder blades down to my mid-back, revealing a spot that hadn’t healed smoothly.

 

‘Some people might actually find this unsettling.’

 

I could understand Jeong Seongbin’s reaction. It was definitely visible through a T-shirt.

 

“Really… It’s big.”

 

I didn’t know my back had become like this.

 

I’d felt the scar while washing, but it had been so long since the injury that I didn’t really think about it anymore.

 

The bathroom in the dorm was so small that there was no space to look at my back in the mirror.

 

But more importantly, I wondered why my scar, which I had taken good care of, had become like this.

 

The fact that I had a scar didn’t change, but if the shape of the scar had changed…

 

‘F*ck, is my sister really alive and well?’

 

Didn’t it look like that the sister who had helped me deal with the accident in the middle of it was gone?

 

I immediately checked the welfare service record of my sister’s status.

 

+

 

[SYSTEM] ‘Welfare Service’ usage details

 

▷ Relation: Blood relative

 

▷ Health status: Good

 

▷ Psychological status: Bad

 

▷ Other: At work

 

+

 

I almost wanted to give the system a beating when I saw that her psychological status was bad, but seeing ‘At work’ made me understand. Yeah, that was unavoidable.

 

The bigger issue was whether I could continue to trust this system.

 

It turned a person’s back into a rag, and now expected a few lines of text to convince me?

 

I couldn’t do anything about it, so I’d put up with it for now. But if I find out that you’re lying, I’ll smash my own head, head to the afterlife, and hold a never-ending filibuster with you, system.

 

“Hyungs, are you guys still changing? They said we have to head out now!”

 

Lee Cheonghyeon shouted from beyond the door.

 

I told Jeong Seongbin that I would cover it up properly before heading out, and then I sent him off and put on two layers of T-shirts.

 

* * *

 

In the past, Spark rarely had outdoor activities.

 

I remembered the prevailing opinion was that if they barely talked in an indoor studio, what good would it do to let them go outside?

 

They were occasionally active in sports programs, but they seemed very awkward with other people.

 

‘The problem is that their fellow members are also included in those other people.’

 

But now it was different.

 

Thanks to countless days and nights of relentless drilling, these kids finally realized and internalized just how much of a serious offense it was to stand in front of the camera with their mouths shut.

 

As a result…

 

“I don’t know how to put this, but our hyungs really… have this aura, you know.”

 

“What do you mean by that, Lee Cheonghyeon?”

 

“You look like you’d be amazing at farm work. You’re so reliable, really!”

 

“That’s true.”

 

“You look reliable, too, Kiyeon…”

 

“Huh?”

 

…None of them seemed capable of shutting up.

 

In the midst of it all, they hadn’t forgotten the rule about avoiding audio overlap, and their timing to jump into the conversation was flawless.

 

I watched the guys chatting loudly, and then I casually said to our MC Jeong Seongbin, who was pushed to the sideline.

 

“Seongbin, they’re so noisy, should we stick them up in the field as scarecrows?”

 

“Hyung, you really seem like you’d do it, so please don’t…!”

 

Geez. I can’t even joke.

 

It seemed Seongbin genuinely thought I’d put them out there upside down, so he quickly got the group under control.

 

“Now that we’re in the countryside, the first thing we have to do is prepare lunch!”

 

Everyone clapped with excitement at Jeong Seongbin’s announcement.

 

Prepare lunch, huh.

 

With these guys in the middle of nature?

 

Well then, there was no need to think further.

 

“Let’s make pajeon.”

 

What other choice do we have? It had to be something easy to make.

 

“Pajeon sounds good! And what else should we make?”

 

“With our skills, just being able to finish pajeon without a hitch is enough of an achievement, Cheonghyeon.”

 

I put my hand on Lee Cheonghyeon’s shoulder and said with a smile.

 

My eyes were smiling, but I was being serious.

 

If I sent two of them out to the field to pick scallions, I could already predict one would bring back onions and the other water celery.

 

Trying to ignore that inevitable future, I maintained my smile as I asked:

 

“Do we… get something like pancake flour or salt?”

 

“All necessary ingredients can be won in games with the production team!” 

 

The PD answered.

 

Just then, I heard an ominous conversation.

 

“Seongbin hyung, do we need salt for pajeon? Don’t you usually dip them in soy sauce?”

 

Maybe he’s using it for something else? Right, Jeho hyung?”

 

“I think we used it last time when making the kimchi pancake… Lee Cheonghyeon, did we put salt in it then?”

 

“Wasn’t it sugar? Maybe it depends on the ingredients?”

 

I asked with a faint smile.

 

“PD-nim.”

 

“Yes!”

 

“The Ingredients… How much can we get?”

 

Because, honestly, I think we’re going to need a lot.

 

* * *

 

Making six servings of green onion pancakes turned into a rather chaotic ordeal.

 

“Are green onion roots always like this? Maybe it’s because they’re organic?”

 

“Isn’t that actually an onion, Jeho?”

 

Starting with the single-brain-celled Choi Jeho, who, true to expectations, pulled out an immature onion.

 

“Didn’t you say we have to build the stove?”

 

“Wait a minute, Kiyeon. If you don’t want to do it twice, we have to carefully consider the members’ paths and where the wind blows before deciding on the location.”

 

Lee Cheonghyeon, who used his good brain to this extent, and Kang Kiyeon, busily took down half-built bricks, agreeing that it needed to be redone.

 

At this rate, we would have lunch in the afternoon. Maybe around… 5 p.m.

 

It was comforting that at least Jeong Seongbin and Park Joowoo were quiet.

 

Yes, out of these five, at least one person had to have experience cooking outdoors to keep some balance in the universe…

 

“Hyung, how much should I peel off the green onions for them to be ready?”

 

“Iwol hyung, there are three types of soy sauce in the pantry. Which one should I bring…?”

 

“…”

 

The heck…

 

Next time, I hoped the production team took them to something like the Boy Scouts instead of farm work. A one-day cooking class would be even better.

 

I answered their questions one by one and handed out the gloves.

 

“Why gloves?”

 

“I’ll do the cooking, so just go and gather some firewood.”

 

And as I watched their backs retreating toward the mountain path, I lamented to myself.

 

This is all because I have been feeding the kids too much salad.

 

If they’d ever had to cook for themselves a few times, would they really be like this?

 

‘I’m not a great cook myself, so I can’t say much.’

 

I thought this as I scrubbed the large cauldron lid placed off to one side of the porch.

 

Then Kang Kiyeon came over and asked.

 

“Are you going to put some pancakes on the lid?”

 

“Yeah. I think it’ll work better than using a frying pan.”

 

“Then, should I clean it?”

 

“I’ll handle it; it needs oiling anyway. What about the stove? Is it done?”

 

“Lee Cheonghyeon told me to leave it to him.”

 

Glancing over to the yard, I saw Lee Cheonghyeon tearing down his carefully stacked bricks, muttering, ‘This isn’t it!’

 

“Kiyeon.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Stop running away and go back to help him finish the stove.”

 

“…Yes.”

 

As I was wiping the lid of the pot, I thought of the workshop at the Hanpyeong Industry.

 

‘You can’t have a workshop without a barbecue. Isn’t that right, Team Leader Cho?’

 

‘Oh, absolutely. Manager Nam even brought all the charcoal for us! We’re just along for the ride, huh? What do they call that these days? Getting a free bus ride?’

 

Back then, I’d done the reservations, the grocery shopping, the grilling, and even poured drinks, who was riding whose bus? It was a tearful workshop memory.

 

At that time, while Manager Nam and Team Leader Cho drank until they collapsed, I was outside wiping the iron plate.

 

If someone asked me what I enjoyed most about that workshop, I’d confidently say it was scrubbing the grill.

 

As I recalled the beautiful memories, my hands holding the dishwashing sponge gained strength.

 

While I was wiping the moisture off the lid of the pot I just washed, this time Park Joowoo came to me.

 

Park Joowoo held out a huge bowl full of dough and asked.

 

“Hyung, is this enough dough…?”

 

“Yeah. Who made it? It’s well done.”

 

“Jeho hyung.”

 

Although he struggled, it seemed his experience making kimchi pancakes paid off. It was a real progress.

 

Even after getting my approval, Park Joowoo didn’t immediately go back but crouched down next to me instead.

 

Then, he pointed toward the scene where Lee Cheonghyeon and Kang Kiyeon were loudly building the stove with their voices more than their hands.

 

“Hyung, do you know how to start a fire in something like that?”

 

You can’t help but worry when you see those kids messing around, right?

 

I patted Joowoo’s shoulder to reassure him.

 

“Of course. Just trust me.”

 

I knew how to light a fire and cook rice in a cauldron.

 

So, go ahead and get me some cooking oil.

 

* * *

 

After many twists and turns, the pajeon turned out exceptionally well.

 

Maybe because it was just fried, it tasted delicious.

 

After filming the eating scene, I made sure that the staff got one each. When I sat back down to fry more, the others had already started bringing me more ingredients.

 

Occasionally, Lee Cheonghyeon would insist on making bunny-shaped pancakes, taking advantage of the wide griddle, but since it was a broadcast, I let him do whatever he wanted.

 

He failed to flip it over and one of the rabbit’s ears ended up being shorter, but it was still delicious.

 

The filming continued at a brisk pace.

 

After Choi Jeho and Kang Kiyeon lost at rock-paper-scissors and amicably took on dishwashing duty, Jeong Seongbin and I managed to win grocery vouchers from the production team and went shopping.

 

In the meantime, Park Joowoo and Lee Cheonghyeon somehow managed to sacrifice the shuttlecock and the badminton racket to a tree branch.

 

They were so blatantly caught up in the tree that I thought it might be a hidden camera prank for a moment.

 

After pulling weeds in the garden, playing foot volleyball with the production team, and writing rolling paper, the day in the mountain village quickly came to an end.

 

But, of course, that didn’t mean the celebrities’ day was over.

 

I carefully sliced the cucumber that Choi Jeho had picked from the garden earlier in the day and neatly placed it on the faces of the Spark members, who had been worn out under the blazing sun all day. Honestly, I felt more suited to being a staff member than an idol.

 

“Hyung, I’ll put some on your face, so go lie down too!”

 

“Stay put. Think of it as my hard work being diminished every time a cucumber falls.”

 

I had just gotten Jeong Seongbin to settle down when Lee Cheonghyeon suddenly leaped up from afar.

 

“Hyung, I have something I really want to do right now!”

 

At that moment, the cucumber fell off Lee Cheonghyeon’s white jade-like face.

 

Mr. Lee, I put so much effort into slicing those!

 

But the camera was still rolling. I held back my anger and asked.

 

“What is it?”

 

“Truth or Dare! I know it sounds cliché, but if we don’t do this here, it’d feel like we’re missing out!”

 

He dropped my precious cucumbers to the floor just to say that. He could have made that suggestion while lying down.

 

The fans would probably like it, though. Idol fans tended to want to know even the smallest things that would make anyone wonder, ‘Why are you curious about such trivial things?’

 

Manager Nam’s daughter was the same way.

 

I could understand asking for things like Choi Jeho’s height, weight, and favorite shoe brand, but she was far from satisfied with just that.

 

I didn’t know what was so fascinating about the fact that Choi Jeho ordered jajangmyeon with cream shrimp at a Chinese restaurant one spring day in May, but I remembered she really liked the tidbit I gave her.

 

The truth game would likely bring out some stories more interesting than that. And if not, we could just prod until something came out.

 

“I’m in!”

 

Surprisingly, even Park Joowoo raised his voice to support Lee Cheonghyeon’s idea.

 

As I was wondering whether the truth or dare game was popular among young people, Park Joowoo said with shining eyes.

 

“I–I’ve never been on a school trip. So I haven’t had many opportunities to do things like that…!”

 

No, Joowoo.

 

If you say it like that, how can we not do it…