The crushing pressure in Han Yoo-jin's skull receded, leaving a dull, throbbing echo in its wake. He tasted something acrid and metallic at the back of his throat—the taste of pure panic. He blinked, and the world swam back into a semblance of focus. The fluorescent lights of the office no longer seemed blinding, but the air felt thin, strange.
"Manager Han? Are you okay?"
The voice belonged to Park Ji-hye from the marketing team. She was standing beside his desk, holding out a paper cup of cheap instant coffee from the breakroom machine. Her expression was one of genuine concern. "You look like you've just seen a ghost. That evaluation meeting must have been a real nightmare."
Yoo-jin tried to form a response, to say he was fine, just a headache. But the words died in his throat. As his eyes focused on her kind, worried face, something impossible shimmered into existence.
To the left of her head, a pane of translucent, electric-blue light flickered into view. It hovered in the air, immaterial and yet perfectly crisp, like a heads-up display from one of the sci-fi movies he used to watch. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, a gesture he hoped looked like he was trying to clear a dizzy spell. When he opened them again, it was still there.
Written on it in a clean, sans-serif font were lines of text that made no sense.
[Name: Park Ji-hye]
[Affiliation: Stellar Entertainment, Marketing Team]
[Overall Potential: D+]
[Key Strengths: Information Gathering (Gossip), Interpersonal Skills (Superficial), Trend Analysis (Social Media)]
[Critical Weaknesses: Lack of Core Competence, Easily Swayed, Poor Long-Term Planning]
[Scandal Factor: 3%]
[Current Thoughts: He really looks pale. Did Director Kang finally fire him? I heard he was protecting some trainee with no visuals. Poor guy. Maybe I should tell him that rumor about the new girl group concept to cheer him up.]
Yoo-jin's blood ran cold.
Current Thoughts.
The phrase hammered into his brain with the force of a physical blow. It wasn't just a hallucination of random words. He was reading her mind. The friendly, gossipy chatter he'd always associated with Ji-hye was laid bare in cold, analytical text.
He recoiled in his chair so violently that it scraped loudly against the floor, knocking a neat stack of artist portfolios onto the ground. Papers scattered around his feet.
"Manager Han!" Ji-hye exclaimed, taking a step back in alarm.
"Fine! I'm fine," he managed to stammer, his voice strained. He didn't dare look at her again, focusing instead on the mess of papers on the floor. "Just… just a sudden headache. I need some fresh air. Or water."
He didn't wait for her reply. Pushing himself up from his chair, he practically bolted, weaving through the maze of desks and heading straight for the men's restroom. He shouldered the door open and stumbled toward the sinks, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs.
I'm losing my mind. The thought was stark and terrifying. It's burnout. A psychotic break. I'm hallucinating.
He gripped the edges of the marble countertop, his knuckles white, and stared at his reflection. His face was ghostly pale, his hair disheveled, his eyes wide with a terror he had never known. But that was all. There was no blue panel next to his own head. Just his pathetic, frightened reflection.
A wave of relief, so potent it made him weak, washed over him. It was a hallucination. A stress-induced, momentary lapse in sanity. He splashed his face with ice-cold water, the shock of it helping to ground him. He took a few deep, ragged breaths. He was okay. He was not crazy.
He pushed the restroom door open, feeling marginally more human, and nearly collided with Choi Jin-wook. His rival in the A&R department. Jin-wook was standing just outside, schmoozing with another manager from the finance department, a smug, self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face.
"Whoa there, Han," Jin-wook said, his voice dripping with condescension as he held up his hands in mock defense. "Watch where you're going. You look even more of a wreck than usual. Did Director Kang finally put one of your little 'artistic' charity cases out of its misery?"
As Yoo-jin's gaze met his rival's, the blue panel snapped back into existence. It was sharper this time, the text glowing with a brighter intensity.
[Name: Choi Jin-wook]
[Affiliation: Stellar Entertainment, A&R Team]
[Overall Potential: C+]
[Key Strengths: Deceptive Reporting, Kissing Up, Taking Credit]
[Critical Weaknesses: Zero Eye for Talent, Deep-Seated Insecurity, Arrogant]
[Scandal Factor: 58%]
[Current Thoughts: Look at him. Pathetic. After his failure today, Director Kang will definitely assign the new international boy group project to me. I should start preparing the preliminary proposal tonight.]
Yoo-jin felt a dizzying jolt, but this time it wasn't just fear. It was a strange, chilling sense of validation. The system's brutal assessment of Jin-wook aligned perfectly with every suspicion Yoo-jin had harbored for years. The man was a parasite, surviving only by latching onto the work of others.
His eyes were drawn to one line in particular. [Scandal Factor: 58%]. The number seemed unnaturally high. As he focused on it, a faint blue light pulsed around the text. He didn't know why, but he felt an instinct, a flicker of curiosity, a mental 'push'. In response, the line of text expanded, a new sub-line appearing beneath it.
[Scandal Factor: 58%] -> [Details: Chronic, minor embezzlement from allocated production budgets. Falsification of expense reports for personal gain. High risk of exposure in the event of a full departmental audit.]
Yoo-jin's breath hitched. He had always known Jin-wook's expense reports seemed inflated, that production costs on his projects were mysteriously higher than they should be. But he'd never had proof. Now, here it was, displayed as a simple, undeniable fact.
He took a stumbling step back, away from Jin-wook, who was still smirking, oblivious. Yoo-jin muttered a half-hearted apology and retreated to the relative safety of his desk, his mind reeling.
He sank into his chair, the terror from moments before being steadily replaced by a bewildering awe. This wasn't a hallucination. It was too specific. Too real. Too useful.
He spent the next hour in a state of hyper-aware paranoia, pretending to work while surreptitiously glancing around the office, "scanning" everyone he could. Each glance brought a new revelation, a new piece of forbidden knowledge.
The quiet, diligent intern everyone ignored: [Overall Potential: B], [Key Strength: Lyric Writing (Untapped Genius)], [Current Thoughts: I wish I had the courage to show Manager Han my notebook.]
The severe-looking Head of the Legal Team as she strode past: [Overall Potential: A-], [Scandal Factor: 12%] -> [Details: Successfully buried a top client's DUI incident three years prior through network connections.]
Then, a wave of commotion swept through the office as Kim Tae-yoon, the superstar center of Stellar's flagship boy group 'Zenith', strutted through, flanked by his entourage. He was a god among mortals, radiating an aura of untouchable fame. Yoo-jin instinctively focused on him. The panel that appeared was a brilliant, almost blinding gold.
[Name: Kim Tae-yoon]
[Overall Potential: S-]
[Key Strengths: Overwhelming Stage Presence, Charismatic Fan Interaction, Photogenic Perfection]
[Critical Weaknesses: Declining Vocal Stability (Smoking), Poor Mental Health (Burnout)]
[Scandal Factor: 75%]
75 percent. For a top idol, that was a ticking time bomb. Yoo-jin focused, his heart pounding.
[Details: Currently in a secret relationship with a member of rival agency Y.G.'s top girl group. High probability of being exposed by Dispatch paparazzi within the next three months.]
Yoo-jin leaned back, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. This information… this information was priceless. It was power. The kind of power that could build empires or burn them to the ground.
The office began to empty as the workday wound down. The lively chatter subsided, replaced by the hum of computers and the distant sound of Seoul traffic. Yoo-jin remained at his desk, the phantom blue panels fading in and out of his vision as the last of his colleagues departed. The initial fear was gone, replaced by a cold, calculating curiosity he hadn't felt in years. He was no longer just Han Yoo-jin, the jaded, powerless manager. He was something else.
His gaze drifted across the now-empty office, landing on the closed door of the man who held his career, and the dreams of countless trainees, in his hands. The man who had acted as judge, jury, and executioner just hours before. A single, dangerous question burned in his mind.
He leaned forward slightly, narrowing his eyes, and focused his entire attention on the elegant silver nameplate on the door: Director Kang Min-hyuk.
A new panel began to form in his vision, this one seemingly larger, more formidable than all the others. It shimmered with an ominous light, and Yoo-jin held his breath, waiting for the secrets of his personal devil to be revealed.