Pen and Paper Translations

Gye Jin‑seong stopped clicking his mouse and slapped it down on the desk with a sharp “Tap!”

“There really is no order in this place.”

And with good reason:

Barely a day after his interview feature had run, a rival outlet had posted an exclusive with the New York Philharmonic.

[Exclusive NY Phil music director Paul says he wants to collaborate again with composer ‘Choi Jihyun’…]

His first scoop in ages now buried by another scoop.

Honestly, this industry was a wild jungle that never let you rest even for a moment.

─ Before the interview began, Paul said composer ‘Choi Jihyun’ had given both him and every member of the orchestra a wonderful experience… 

Gye Jin‑seong narrowed his eyes and scraped the mouse wheel.

─ Paul explained that the New York Phil had crossed paths with Choi purely by chance and ended up recording a session; he added that the moment they worked together is still vivid for him…

Clatter, clatter.

─ During rehearsal Choi personally conducted the entire NY Phil; the practice was so intense that some players even threw up (an almost unbelievable tidbit)… 

Threw up? This reporter sprinkled way too much MSG.

─ Even so, Paul said that intensity produced the current result, and not only he but the other members all look forward to working with Choi again…

Reading on, Gye Jin‑seong let out a long, low breath.

─ Paul called Choi Jihyun “a once‑in‑centuries genius and a rogue who might overturn the world”… 

Having met Choi several times himself, he could relate to the comment…

─ Finally, Paul said he felt as if he’d gained a friend who offers great inspiration, transcending age, résumé, and genre… 

The New York Phil was a world‑class orchestra everyone acknowledged, wasn’t it?

─ If the opportunity arises, Paul said, he definitely wants to collaborate with Choi Jihyun again in some form.

Even the conductor of an institution like that phrased it so strongly.

“Hmm…”

He suspected the reporter had exaggerated in translation, yet somehow it still sounded plausible.

Well, what could he do?

His own exclusive was already buried; he had no choice but to chase another.

Besides, he had two bombs he’d obtained from LS Entertainment. He’d promised not to detonate them, but…

If the desk squeezed him too hard, he was ready to light the fuse anytime. These were bombs the public would fixate on, the kind that made jaws drop.

Except, if he set them off, he’d be burning bridges not only with Choi Jihyun but with LS Entertainment entirely.

Not yet.

Clatter, clatter.

Gye Jin‑seong scrolled up once more and committed the final line to memory:

─ If the opportunity arises, Paul said, he definitely wants to collaborate with Choi Jihyun again in some form.

Same here.

Yes.

A gold mine like Choi Jihyun… no, like HS…

He hoped they could keep helping each other for a long time.

---

The wager that began inside LS Entertainment headquarters ultimately ended in Choi Jihyun’s victory.

∗∗TOP 100∗∗

1st “Blue Spring” – Choi Jihyun (feat. Kim Kwang‑jin)
2nd “out to sea” – Choi Jihyun (with NY Phil & Lee Ga‑hee)
3rd “A.N.P” – Seo Jini

Ten straight days holding both #1 and #2. It was an absolute win.

“This can’t be…”

Manager  Kim was despondent: his hard‑earned 100,000 won (~ $72) had gone up in smoke.

“Manager.”

Team Leader Kwak, slumped beside him on the rooftop bench, spoke listlessly.

“I handed my stake money to A&R on the way in…”

“A&R’ll have a party soon.”

“They already rushed to book a restaurant.”

“Must be nice…”

“Manager, I’m really sorry in the middle of this, but could you maybe…”

Kim accepted the white envelope he offered and asked, “What’s this?”

Ding—!

A text arrived from the last person he wanted to hear from.

**Manager Oh:** Cash only! Quick tribute, please ^^ No bank transfers.

That jerk…

“I tried to deliver it, but Manager Oh insisted he had to get it straight from you…”

Kim could already picture how gleefully Oh would tease him when he showed up with the envelope.

“Childish punk.”

Handing over money was bad enough; that Management Team 1 had guessed right stung even more.

“Our Golden Boy lost! How aggravating!”

“In the end Mr. Choi Jihyun is Golden Boy too, you know.”

“I know, but I’m still mad.”

“Let’s look on the bright side.”

Crushing out his last cigarette, Kim stood. “Right. Let’s toss the cash over and go congratulate Golden Boy.”

“Please don’t literally toss it.”

“Will I finally get my drama moment of flinging money in someone’s face?”

They chuckled, and Kim headed off the terrace toward Team 1’s office.

---

Nearing the office, he heard an odd sound:

“Waaaah—!”

A child crying, something you never heard in LS HQ.

Did they bring in a child actor?

Peeking through the slightly open door, Kim saw burly Team 1 staff standing awkwardly while Executive Director Park planted hands on hips.

“You out of your mind?”

The male employee bowed repeatedly. “I‑I’m sorry.”

“So you planned to keep this secret from even me?”

“No! I was going to report it…”

“‘Going to’? I only know because I passed by and wondered what that noise was!”

Bad timing for Kim to walk in.

What blew up this time?

As he edged closer, his pupils quivered.

What the…?

A little girl, about four, clung to the employee’s leg.

“And why would you even think to bring a kid to work? Tell me that makes sense.”

At that moment Manager Oh stepped up to explain.

“It’s his youngest sister. Daycare’s on break, and the parents can’t look after her just now, so he brought her in.”

“You thought that was the solution? He should’ve found someone beforehand!”

“He says there’s literally no relative who can watch her. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again, so please forgive him.”

“For your sake, Manager Oh, I’ll let it slide today. But keep that child from disrupting work.”

The employee bowed so low his head nearly hit the floor.

Director Park, realizing more scolding wouldn’t fix anything and feeling his heart soften at the teary child, decided to step back.

Those puffy red eyes and nose were just too cute.

Reminds me of my daughter at that age.

Stifling a smile, Park crouched to meet the girl’s gaze.

“Hey, you. Come here.”

Maybe his voice sounded too stern; she only clung tighter to her brother.

“Dohee, this is your brother’s boss. Say hello.”

“Mmm…”

Prodded forward, Dohee shuffled over.

“How old do you think I am?” he asked.

She opened her little hands, folded and unfolded fingers for a moment.

“Th‑thirty… years…”

She wiggled three fingers in the air. Her brother, Dojun, whispered to Manager Oh, “Actually, Dohee only knows numbers up to thirty.”

“So she chose the oldest number she knows?”

“Yeah… Let’s keep that just between us.”

Unaware, Director Park roared with laughter. “Look at that. She already knows how to navigate the workplace!”

He pulled out some bills and pressed them into her hand.

“No, Director! That’s too much! She’s only four. She doesn’t need that kind of money!”

“If I want to give it, let me. If it’s too much, you keep it and buy her something nice.”

“Th‑thank you… Dohee, say thank you.”

Blinking doe eyes at the towering adults, she murmured, “Th‑thank… youuu…” and fresh tears rolled from the corners of her eyes.

“Waaaah!”

Dojun panicked. Lately she cried whenever she went outside; the phrase “terrible fours” hit home.

“Dohee, you mustn’t cry,” he coaxed, stroking her head. She only sobbed harder.

“Let me try,” Director Park said grandly, lifting her and patting her back. “Hey! If you keep crying, the sack man will come take you away! Boo!”

Total backfire.

“Waaaaaah—!”

As she screamed, other staff gathered, cooing “Boo‑boo‑boo, peek‑a‑boo!”

It was all futile.

She kicked in mid‑air, twisting to be put down, until one loose shoe flew off and rolled to the office door.

“Huh?”

And at the end of its path stood Manager Kim, whose broad frame radiated comfort.

“Think you can calm a kid?” Director Park asked.

---

[Help, Flaming‑Mask Man.]

Hyunseung froze, staring at the text. Was DManager Kim teasing him?

To decode why he’d been upgraded from “villain” to “Flaming‑Mask Man,” he called.

♬ ♬ ♬

After a long ringtone (A.N.P), Kim picked up.

“Weren’t you calling me a villain before?”

— Me? When did I?

“You said I looked like a mad‑scientist villain.”

— Not right now! Hyunseung, are you in your studio? Still have that flaming helmet?

Kim sounded drained yet urgent.

“Yes, it’s here. What’s up?”

— Whew, good. Could you wear that helmet for a bit?

“What? Why?”

— I’m on my way to your studio with a guest.

“A guest? This is my studio.”

— I’ll buy you coffee all month. Just wear it! Click.

Thunk. Call ended.

Did everyone think his studio was a public lounge? Maybe he should install a heavy lock.

Just then.

Tock, tock. A feeble knock, as if all energy had drained away. What was happening today?

Clack.

He slipped on the helmet, lowered the visor, and opened the door with equal parts worry and annoyance.

“Weren’t you bringing a guest?”

Manager Kim stood alone, sweating.

“I did bring a guest.”

“Where?”

Kim bowed deeply.

Rustle, rustle.

Feeling a tug at his trouser leg, Hyunseung looked down and met eyes with a little girl who didn’t even reach his thigh.

“F‑flaming Mask Man…?”

Some instinct told him to nod.

“Wow! Amazing!”

Apparently, this little lady was the reason he’d been leveled up from “mad‑scientist villain” to “Flaming‑Mask Man.”

Gazing at the girl clinging to his calf, Hyunseung made a vow.

“I am Flaming‑Mask Man, here to defeat all the bad guys!”

Yes. He would be buying a sturdy lock very, very soon.

---