Episode 19. Clash of Opinions (1)
Not having objective indicators for achieving KPI is like a business with five or more employees refusing to guarantee paid leave on public holidays.
In other words, it’s absurd.
In that sense, getting elated or dejected by a one-point increase in my proficiency alone was meaningless. Because there was nothing to compare it to.
If I was aiming to debut with Spark, I needed to know what level the others were at.
Moreover, if invisible factors were being displayed as clear numerical proficiency?
Only an idiot would fail to take advantage of this opportunity.
*‘If it’s a trial pass, I wonder if they’ll only let me view one person.’*
I had already decided whose resume I would look at if I could only see one of the five.
Someone whose position was vocal, who had no noticeable shortcomings, and who served as Spark’s all-rounder, self-management included.
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[SYSTEM] Would you like to view the resume of ‘Jeong Seong-bin’?
▶ Yes / No
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It was Jeong Seong-bin.
As soon as I confirmed, a resume in the exact same format as mine appeared before my eyes.
Before reading the contents, I checked for an expiry date or a timer, but I didn’t see anything like that.
My assumption that the number of viewable people was limited seemed to be correct.
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[Spark’s Eternal Leader] Jeong Seong-bin
Jeong Seong-bin (18 years old)
Career
— 4th place overall in the February month-end evaluation
— 5th-year trainee under UA
Performance Evaluation (100)
— Vocal Proficiency: 12/20
— Dance Proficiency: 8/20
— Self PR: 7/20
— Attendance Management: 13/20
— Organizational Adaptability: 11/20
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The resume I’d gone through hell to see was a shock in and of itself.
Granted, it was only natural. While I had barely pushed the sum of my vocal and dance proficiencies into the double digits using cowardly tricks, Jeong Seong-bin was in a different league from the first digit.
However, I did find it slightly odd that Jeong Seong-bin’s dance proficiency—he danced far better than me—was only three points higher than mine.
In this case, the answer was one of two.
*Either the density of proficiency stacked through actual effort is higher than the shaky proficiency I’ve stacked, or the wall between 6 and 8 points is just that steep.*
If it was the latter, it was about time I started managing my vocal proficiency as well.
The other noticeable point was the organizational adaptability.
Jeong Seong-bin’s adaptability was as high as his singing ability.
Considering he had the chops to be a main vocalist even if he debuted elsewhere, it was safe to assume that his adaptability was also at a considerable level.
*So that’s the level of adaptability you need to be the leader of Spark.*
I gave Jeong Seong-bin a round of applause in my heart. With my adaptability at 10, that was a realm I wouldn’t dare to covet.
*For the time being, I should pour my welfare points into vocals.*
If a five-point gap in proficiency didn’t make much of a difference, then considering my original goal of aiming for sub-vocal, it seemed about right to gradually shift my focus toward singing.
For some reason, I felt like I’d turned into some pitiful office worker obsessively chasing HR performance reviews for a promotion.
* * *
The chance to practice singing in a new way came sooner than expected.
The manager came in with a guide recording request for an established singer under UA.
“The guide itself will be done by Seong-bin, but the CEO said you should all take turns to get some recording experience.”
A company worthy of having its own in-house recording studio.
It was a rare opportunity you wouldn’t easily get at a company that had to book external studios by the hour.
And as luck would have it, a new task popped up right on time.
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[SYSTEM] A ‘New Task’ has been assigned.
▷ Experience Recording
▷ Reward: EXP (5)
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*‘Five…….’*
As for that EXP—the moment I checked and saw that my vocal proficiency had hit 6, an adjustment came down.
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[SYSTEM] Acquirable EXP is being adjusted.
▷ Previous: Base EXP 10 granted
▷ Changed to: Base EXP 5 granted
▷ Special Notice: When a performance evaluation score reaches 7 points, the manual allocation of points will be restricted.
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Now it hits me with adjustments without even giving a reason. What a dirty system.
It even looked like I wouldn’t be able to freely raise my proficiency from 7 onward.
I didn’t have much of a choice but to do as I was told, but I really wished I could leave that system a star rating later.
You think you’re the only one who can hand out scores? I can hand them out too. I’m a Job Planet member, damn it.
Anyway, to earn even a small, pathetic 5 EXP, I needed to focus on the guide recording for now.
*‘No pressure. That’s nice.’*
The task itself didn’t demand a high degree of completion, and my criteria for finishing the task was simply to ‘experience’ it, so there was practically no burden.
That said, I wanted to walk away with something. I didn’t want to waste my time just to get a measly bit of EXP, especially since I’d bothered coming all the way to the studio.
Instead of Jeong Seong-bin, who needed to focus on his main job, I asked Park Ju-u, who looked just as relaxed as I was.
“Has Seong-bin been doing guide recordings for a long time?”
“I think so. …From what I know, about two years.”
“A real talent. A real talent.”
Then Lee Cheong-hyeon cut in from the side.
“Didn’t Seong-bin-hyung always do the guides for senior Jang Jun-hu’s songs?”
“Is that so.”
I knew Jang Jun-hu too. He was a ballad singer who had shot to fame with his debut song and rose to celebrity status.
*Going by vocal range and tone alone, there is a similar feel.*
The song I’d been given to practice beforehand was also a traditional ballad.
Personally, it wasn’t as memorable as the singer’s own debut song. I couldn’t remember it well, so maybe it hadn’t been a hit.
Whether it was designed to be easy listening or not, the song itself wasn’t difficult.
Thanks to that—or perhaps thanks to his own ability—Jeong Seong-bin’s guide recording ended smoothly without a hitch.
The other members all did a good job when it was their turn too.
Neither Choi Je-ho nor Gang Gi-yeon were focused on singing, but thanks to the skills they’d built up over the years at UA, they demonstrated competent vocal ability.
As for me, I finished my first recording ever by making the most of my vocal proficiency of 6.
“Iwol, they say it’s your first recording, but you don’t seem nervous at all?”
“You didn’t even miss any notes. You did well for a beginner! You can come out now!”
It seemed UA’s signature baptism of praise for newcomers extended into the recording studio as well.
Being praised wasn’t a bad thing, but it wasn’t something I could afford to get complacent about.
Objectively speaking, I had to recognize that this praise was more about encouragement and support than an actual good evaluation.
At times like this, there was only one thing to do.
Practice.
As soon as the guide experience was over, I returned to the underground vocal practice room and opened my lyrics book with a determined heart.
Today’s goal was to sing the song I’d been assigned in vocal class perfectly, without a single off-key note.
I took a deep breath and was about to dive into a world of introspection when I heard a conversation from outside.
In this vocal practice room, sound didn’t leak out from the inside, but outside noise seeped in little by little.
*But if I can hear it from in here, they must be talking pretty loudly out there.*
In society, there are times when the polite thing to do is pretend you didn’t hear even if you did.
The moment I considerately tried to put in my earphones, I heard someone shout, “That’s not what I meant!”
It was Gang Gi-yeon’s voice.
*Unless he’s shouting, shouldn’t it be hard to hear this clearly from in here?*
I was already agitated, and now this. A sigh escaped me automatically.
I turned off the playlist I’d had on repeat and got up from my seat.
Outside the soundproof booth, Gang Gi-yeon—who looked so angry even when sitting still that he was often misunderstood—and Choi Je-ho, who clearly looked displeased, were facing off.
A bloody atmosphere hung between them.
Beside Gang Gi-yeon stood Lee Cheong-hyeon, and between Gang Gi-yeon and Choi Je-ho stood Jeong Seong-bin.
Before I knew it, I made eye contact with Jeong Seong-bin, who looked thoroughly troubled.
*Seong-bin, me staying inside is helping, right?*
To my telepathy, Jeong Seong-bin made a face like a dandelion spore soaked with rain.
*Please step in…….*
That was a bit difficult. I subscribe to the belief that kids grow by fighting with intellect and logic as weapons.
As if he had the awareness to hear the door opening, Gang Gi-yeon looked my way.
It seemed the time had come to deploy the eye-squinting act I’d honed at Hanpyeong Industries but hadn’t used in quite a while.
“You two fighting?”
“…No.”
Gang Gi-yeon answered, suppressing his anger that looked ready to erupt at any second.
Seems he’d raised his voice in a fit of temper.
I was thinking I should teach him how to count to three and endure next time, but then Choi Je-ho jumped in.
“Weren’t we going to fight? You’ve got a problem with me, don’t you?”
At Choi Je-ho’s attitude that didn’t back down one inch, Gang Gi-yeon’s brow—which had been starting to relax—twitched again.
Before teaching Gang Gi-yeon patience, it seemed more urgent to give that guy a lesson on how to “speak kindly.”
Thanks to Choi Je-ho pouring oil on the fire, the atmosphere was hurtling toward disaster.
“Hyung, can’t you do something about that way you talk—”
“Hey, hey, Gang-gyeon. Let’s just stop here!”
Seeing Gang Gi-yeon looking like he was grinding his teeth, Lee Cheong-hyeon desperately tried to stop him in a bright voice.
However, Gang Gi-yeon didn’t hide the fact that he still had plenty to say. With Choi Je-ho having opened the floodgates, it seemed the fire had caught on this side too.
I had no choice but to neatly fold away my plan to watch for a bit before pulling them apart.
“Yeah, Gi-yeon. I know you’re pissed, but calm down a little.”
“….”
“That way you won’t forget the essence of why you started fighting in the first place. If you get hung up on irrelevant things, you’ll be stuck between a rock and a hard place.”
“…Huh?”
All four of them looked at me at the same time.
Why? Isn’t identifying the core issue the basics of problem-solving?
“Hyung, you are trying to break up the fight… right?”
Lee Cheong-hyeon asked, his face a picture of bewilderment.
I shrugged and answered.
“I wasn’t planning to stop it.”
“Huh?”
“It’s not like these kids would act like this without reason. How old are they? If things don’t align, they can fight.”
Among them, Jeong Seong-bin, whose face had gone the palest, moved his lips as if wanting to say something.
“Surely they won’t throw punches? They’re kids who want to be idols; they wouldn’t do something so pathetic.”
At my words, Choi Je-ho and Gang Gi-yeon made faces of utter disbelief.
Sorry, but I greatly regret that at my age, I’ve ended up getting involved in a fight between you kids who are ten years younger than me.