Chapter 17: A Chance Encounter 

Qi Huai accepted the system’s criticism with humility. Whether he’d change was another question, but in the system’s eyes, the host oppa was indeed gentler to it than before.

As the two racked their brains about how the uke protagonist had simultaneously gotten tangled with Gong No. 2 and Gong No. 3, Baek Soo-kyung was feeling lost over Choi Min-jun’s sudden question.

“I remember you got along well with Qi Huai?”

“It’s okay… Since you gave me that reminder last time, hyung, we haven’t been in touch much.”

In truth, that wasn’t so.

Baek Soo-kyung often messaged Qi Huai on KKT—sometimes little jokes, sometimes questions about acting technique.

He didn’t dare openly ask Qi Huai to eat with him, afraid of angering Choi Min-jun, so he could only maintain things in this soft, nonthreatening way.

Qi Huai was a well-connected rich guy with a good temper who treated him kindly, and his acting had great potential.

Baek Soo-kyung didn’t want to distance himself from someone like that—something he’d learned from Choi Min-jun, in fact.

Choi Min-jun didn’t notice these small schemes. His fingertips tapped the steering wheel in rhythm. “I see… Is he close with President Yoon?”

Baek Soo-kyung paused. “President Yoon?”

“Mhm,” said Choi Min-jun. “Didn’t President Yoon recommend him today? They must be on good terms.”

“You mean at the audition, hyung? Didn’t President Yoon draw him at random?” Baek Soo-kyung was perplexed.

At that, Choi Min-jun chuckled. “You really are a kid. Do you think Park Seok-jin just randomly drew your name, too?”

Baek Soo-kyung went speechless, only now realizing what Choi Min-jun was implying. “Hyung, are you saying he and President Yoon—”

Choi Min-jun smiled, eyes curved. “I didn’t say that. You need evidence for those kinds of things. Spread it without proof and President Yoon’s temper won’t be so pretty.”

Baek Soo-kyung’s mind tangled into knots. He couldn’t tell whether Choi Min-jun was serious, speculating, or joking.

He even started wondering when exactly Qi Huai and Yoon Nam-hyuk had gotten together. Could it have been back during Director Ahn Yonghe’s project…?

“From now on, cozy up to Actor Qi,” said Choi Min-jun, scrutinizing the play of emotions across Baek Soo-kyung’s pretty face. “If you get a chance to go to his place, put this inside. Understand?”

Baek Soo-kyung accepted the familiar black box: a bug.

He swallowed uneasily. “B-But you’re his manager, hyung. Wouldn’t it be easier for you to go to his place?”

Choi Min-jun snorted. “That guy doesn’t trust me that much. But you—pure little angel—who would suspect you?”

—

“Host oppa, if only you weren’t half Chinese, half American, you could’ve gone to class with the uke protagonist too…”

Woosan, 7th floor.

New Artist Training Center.

After acting and movement classes, Baek Soo-kyung bowed to everyone and slid once more into Manager Choi’s black BMW.

Voices of envy drifted up behind Qi Huai.

“Ah, having a veteran manager is great—trained to international superstar standards. They even get English and Chinese classes. The bar is so high.”

“Isn’t Qi Huai-hyung even better? He’s professional in English, Chinese, and Korean. While Soo-kyung is busy studying his butt off, he can play on his laptop in the lounge!”

Qi Huai: …

He was making money.

He’d already struck a deal with Gavin, the founder of OpenwWorld, to co-develop Gate, a Web3 social project.

With Gavin backing him, he could issue tokens and do NFTs—fast money.

Shame his career was on fire, yet he couldn’t even manage to attend English class with Baek Soo-kyung…

Qi Huai frowned.

The system couldn’t help suggesting, “Host oppa, you still have two wishes. Want to replay last night?”

Though, strictly, wish time hadn’t arrived yet…

“No need to waste a cannon on a chicken.”

The romantic shift between the uke and the two gongs was a done deal; a replay wouldn’t change it.

Rather than waste a wish on satisfying curiosity, it is better to do something useful—like fix the original owner’s scammer identity.

“Right.” Qi Huai recalled Baek Soo-kyung’s performance in acting class. “Hasn’t his acting improved a lot lately?”

The system mused. “Kind of, yes. The acting teacher’s been praising him, saying his emotional bursts are strong and his technique is more polished.”

“Don’t you find his way of building emotion… familiar?”

“Huh? What do you mean?” The system was lost.

When they shot “The Fox Spirit’s Promise,” Qi Huai had noticed Park Seok-jin had this habit—drinking green tea before emotional scenes and then closing his eyes for a one-minute brew.

Baek Soo-kyung never had that habit before, and no acting teacher had taught him that.

Similar habits, sudden rapid improvement, and other artists had mentioned Park Seok-jin called Baek Soo-kyung up during the audition.

If Yoon Nam-hyuk called Qi Huai’s name for… what? Qi Huai pinched the bridge of his nose. And if Park Seok-jin called Baek Soo-kyung’s name, then why?

The young artists behind him were still sighing. “Humans, man—endless envy. We envy Soo-kyung for getting English lessons; Soo-kyung envies Qi Huai-hyung for not needing them. And you, Huai-hyung? What do you envy?”

Qi Huai glanced back. “The English teacher.”

Everyone: Huh?

Qi Huai asked the system, “Do you know where Park Seok-jin lives?”

—

9 p.m.

Yongsan District.

Stumbling, Baek Soo-kyung tore through the neighborhood alleys, still unaccustomed to Park Seok-jin’s frenzied appetite. He burned with pain below, but to escape the men behind him, he had to grit his teeth and run for his life.

Because he’d been out negotiating resources for his artists, Choi Min-jun hadn’t driven him today. Who knew that in just one evening, Baek Soo-kyung would run into debt collectors chasing 600 million won!

These guys were members of a loan shark outfit—zero moral bottom line.

On a normal day, at worst he’d get beaten or taken advantage of a little. But tonight was different. It couldn’t happen.

Sweating and pale, Baek Soo-kyung clutched the bug in his pocket, screaming inside for someone—anyone—to save him.

This was the plan Choi Min-jun had schemed for ages. With this evidence, he could pay off the 600 million.

But if the debt collectors found Park Seok-jin’s recordings, neither Park nor Choi would spare him—and his own life would be ruined.

He must not be found out!

“Hey! Baek Soo-kyung! Stop right there!”

“Si-bal, you little brat! Become a star and forget your bread-and-butter, huh?! Stop!”

He kept glancing back, then sprinting in despair. Five people—five! What were they doing in Yongsan?

The police station—he had to find a police station.

Damn it, he wasn’t familiar with Yongsan—where the hell was the station?

“Ah—!”

Mid-sprint, someone seized his arm. He thought it was one of them and looked up in panic.

But seeing the face in front of him, Baek Soo-kyung was stunned, then overjoyed. “Qi Huai! Save me, Qi Huai!”

“What happened?” Qi Huai frowned at him.

The hickey on his neck was obvious. Since Choi Min-jun had spent all day negotiating at the company, Qi Huai didn’t even need to guess—this mark had to be Park Seok-jin’s.

Looks like he was still a step late, Qi Huai thought.

It had taken him days to squeeze Park Seok-jin’s address out of Director Ahn Yonghe. Though he didn’t have the exact unit number, luxury apartments didn’t have many residents—he could always try his luck.

He hadn’t expected to run into such a battered… and hickeyed… Baek Soo-kyung.

“Oh my! Oh my oh my!” The system nearly dropped its jaw. “What the heck is this! What’s on the uke’s neck! Weren’t they only at ‘ambiguous’ stage? Since when does ‘ambiguous’ come with neck hickeys?!”

K-manhwa world!

Truly extraordinary!

There was no time to parse what “ambiguous” entailed. The five debt collectors stopped a dozen meters away and began closing in, even pulling out knives.

“Baek Soo-kyung—” the leader panted, teeth clenched. “Looks like we have to teach you a lesson, or you’ll forget your own name! Si-bal! Ptooey—!”

White as a sheet and shaking like a leaf, Baek Soo-kyung stammered, “Q-Qi…”

Qi Huai jerked his chin at a side alley. “Hide in there.”