The system, which had always flapped its mouth just fine, went quiet for a long time.
I was not a patient person. So I pressed the system harder.
‘Is my sister alive or not.’
If I couldn’t confirm that, who cared about KPIs or idols.
Why the hell was I raising hell, even at the cost of hurting kids with bright futures.
The anger wouldn’t settle. It felt like a thousand fires were raging inside me.
To me like that, the system appeared and spoke. In a single short line.
▶ Assistant Manager Kim, is the company a joke to you?
Ever since the system set a goal that sounded absurd—debut someone rotten like me as an idol—I’d had a hunch.
How many people are more suited than me for idol work, and how many things are simpler than rewinding time for the living and reviving the dead.
And yet this happened only to me? To a thoroughly ordinary office worker?
Then a hypothesis presents itself.
Just as I had nothing but the system to rely on to save my sister, the system must also have a reason I absolutely have to do the idol thing. Enough to go through all this hassle.
So what happens if I, the person the system needs, do not prioritize the objective and deviate from the route?
For example, what if I jump off this building’s balcony right now and wipe the slate clean before the KPI approval comes through.
The system can read my thoughts, so it can fully sense that I’m not joking.
So the system will have to prove it.
That my sister is perfectly alive, and that it can interfere with what will happen to her going forward.
If it doesn’t want to watch its one and only subordinate die while throwing its weight around.
At that moment the system crackled like static.
And right after, a new line appeared.
▶ So what is it that Assistant Manager Kim wants?
The way Hanpyeong Industries proved it could pay me a salary, month after month, with money.
Then a long document appeared. A new service.
▷ The "Gap" will protect the "Eul’s" blood relatives from external threats in all cases except when the "Eul" fails to achieve the KPI.
▷ When the "Eul" requests it, the "Gap" will share the status of one (1) of the "Eul’s" blood relatives (designatable; cannot be changed after the one-time designation) within the scope that does not violate privacy or "confidential items under the Non-Disclosure Terms."
But at least thinking my sister was still safe, and that as long as I didn’t pull any crap nothing would happen, let me breathe a little easier.
I immediately registered my sister for the "Welfare Service" and requested a status share.
▷ Relationship: blood relative
▷ Health status: good
▷ Mental state: good
▷ Other: sleeping
An unknown emotion surged up. I stared for a long time at the bright, clear word "good," then buried my face in both hands and sat at the table for a long time.
After tormenting myself and barely closing my eyes at five in the morning, the alarm went off at five-thirty. I never knew "tomorrow’s sun will rise tomorrow" could feel this crappy.
Maybe because I’d slept poorly, my head was foggy. I slapped one side of my face a couple of times and woke up a bit.
After washing up, I automatically toasted sliced bread at the frying pan. Like how I could tie a tie with my eyes closed on weekday mornings, it seemed my body had now learned to toast bread.
Handing out bread to the members, I didn’t forget to talk about the live scheduled for the evening.
Roughly: "Lately there are posts online about my name change, so related questions might show up in the comments. I did change my name, so if it comes up I’ll explain."
I’d banned everyone but me from monitoring, and I figured it wasn’t like my story was all over SNS, so they probably wouldn’t know...
"Hyung, you changed your name?!"
They reacted even bigger than I expected. Lee Cheonghyeon was actually startled.
Kang Giyeon chimed in that he’d thought my name was really unusual anyway. I wish these punks would react exactly this much wherever we go.
As planned, the live started at 7 p.m. that evening.
"[Spark] (2X0319) Assignment Retrospective Begins!" The concept of the live was teammates doing a small after-party with a light heart after successfully finishing all assignments.
Fitting the purpose, every member got what they called "transparent makeup."
Only me—I had such dark circles that I got "makeup that looks like transparent makeup but isn’t."
Staff, please accept my apology here and now.
We hadn’t forgotten the glowing name headbands either. And today’s live even had actual food on the table in front of us.
Since we couldn’t put an empty table for an after-party concept, the company prepared one snack each that we wanted to eat.
For someone like me who only ever took nuts out of the Hanpyeong Industries break room, a six-snack sampler was plenty luxurious. Especially considering I’d kept my diet pretty strict for the last few months.
But to viewers’ eyes, this snack spread seemed very meager.
≫ Guys... don’t tell me that’s all the snacks?
≫ There aren’t only six because there are six people, right? Tell me that’s not it
≫ If UA is being stingy about snacks, please shake a photo card
Comments exploded in protest that a Spark live had, for the first time ever, opened with six bags of snacks.
Thanks to the guys laughing and explaining we don’t usually snack much, the broadcast stayed very warm.
Except for the part where Lee Cheonghyeon, not having seen the comments, got excited for the rare snack party and tried to shake a photo card, making Jeong Seongbin nearly have a fit.
When it moved on to sharing recent updates member by member, name-change comments started popping up one by one, just as expected.
≫ Iwol, did you change your name?
≫ Were you born in February and that’s why your name is Iwol?
≫ Tell us the reason you changed it!
While answering viewers’ questions, I also tried to cluster similar ones to read them together, hoping the other members would get more time.
"There are a lot of name-change questions. I did change it, and I chose my current name myself!"
"You picked it yourself, hyung?"
Kang Giyeon asked, sounding surprised.
Sorry. I told you about the name change today, so the explanation was lacking.
"Yeah. Some of you guessed it, but I was born in February, so I named myself Iwol! I changed it because they say changing your name can open up your luck a bit."
Back then, when I said it like this, everyone understood the reason. Never have I been more grateful for the existence of fortune charts.
Park Juu, listening next to me, praised it as unique and a good name.
In reality, I’d gone to file the change because the name "Kim Hyoil" disgusted me, and since I hadn’t decided what to change it to, I hurriedly pulled from my personal info and named myself on the spot.
Meanwhile, Jeong Seongbin nodded vigorously, saying, "Fortune matters. Oh, it does."
That guy clearly thinks I changed my name on ancestral revelation.
To diffuse the attention focused on me, I asked the others about the origins of their names and steered the topic. While they were tossing their lines, I checked the comments.
≫ Guys, great work up to the final stage♡
≫ Only six snacks and the headbands are reused ㅠ the thrifty idols of our time
≫ Our Jeho’s physique is insane... Jeho, can you measure your shoulder width for us
≫ Lee Cheonghyeon’s face saved the nation again today
Thankfully there were no more comments like "UA being stingy about snacks." It was much better to have reactions centered on the live.
"Choi Jeho shoulder width... Lee Cheonghyeon face..."
I memorized as many of the mentioned keywords as possible, then returned to the ongoing conversation.
What followed didn’t differ much from the plan. Where we got the stage props each time, what was good ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) and what was lacking in the promotions—that sort of thing made up the bulk.
As the live neared the end, Jeong Seongbin read a comment.
"Here’s someone who came for faces and got hooked by the stage. Could you also tell us when you saw the stage?"
"Planning to watch it tonight and then sleep...?"
At Park Juu’s question, Jeong Seongbin beamed and said, "Yeah."
Did that stage catch me a lot? I hope not.
If the video that made them a fan is degraded in quality because of mosaic, I’d feel so sorry.
"They say it’s the day Jeho hyung broke a ballpoint pen? If we’re going to watch anyway, let’s all gather in the living room later and watch together!"
Lee Cheonghyeon said, all hyped.
Everyone except Choi Jeho bit their lips to hold back laughter, but I couldn’t laugh.
Even so, I smiled with all I had. Carefully, so the mood of the live wouldn’t break.
At night the guys really did gather in front of the TV. To watch, as a group, the stage video that fan said made them a fan.
For the record, I’d planned to sit it out.
With not many days left together, I wanted to create a memory the five of them could share among themselves.
But my grand generosity went up in smoke.
"Hyung, if you’re not going to sleep, watch with us! The eldest can’t sit out!"
Because that punk Lee Cheonghyeon grabbed me. He’d been keeping up with skincare lately, so I’d been calling him by his name nicely, but starting with this I decided to call him "that punk Lee Cheonghyeon" for a while.
With no choice, I sat next to Choi Jeho, who’d taken a corner of the sofa.
He too hugged a cushion with an uncomfortable expression. Right—this situation can’t be easy for you either.
"Everyone seated? I’m hitting play!"
At Jeong Seongbin’s cue, the video rolled.
Deep blue light poured over the stage, and six people in formation filled the frame.
They reacted big every time the camera caught someone. Then they praised each other like crazy.
"Uncomfortable."
Maybe because I’d spent too long monitoring Spark videos alone? This moment—watching a screen where all of us appeared together—felt incredibly unfamiliar.
The discomfort grew every time I alone got a close-up. An indefinable wrongness crept in.
In the end I couldn’t bear the dissonance, and I stood up, saying I’d turn in first.
And in that moment—
