The Sacred Manager Life - Chapter 34

“I’m here.”

“Welcome.”

Since that day, my daily routine consisted of spending the mornings in the practice room with Red Blossom and the afternoons playing the devoted son for Han Jeongwon’s mother.

“Ah, this feels so good. Juwon, your hands are better than physical therapy.”

In just three days, she had started calling me Juwon and speaking more casually.

I had always been the type to be doted on by older people, and with my Gift added to the mix, her wariness melted away like snow in the sun.

At this point, we were close enough to be mistaken for a real mother and son.

[I just hope your range of appeal hasn’t expanded to older women too.]

“I wouldn’t use the term ‘older woman’ for someone who could be my mother.”

That’s something Cha Soyeon would scold me for saying.

Anyway, thanks to our quick bond, it only took four days before I was allowed into Han Jeongwon’s room.

The room was impeccably neat, as if she cleaned it daily.

Even though I had permission, I didn’t want to rummage through her things carelessly, so I set a strategy: yesterday, I searched the bookshelf; today, the desk; tomorrow, the drawers.

I gradually expanded my search area like a detective closing in on a case.

After several days of searching, I still hadn’t found a single clue about the video.

“This isn’t easy.”

“There are a few more boxes in the basement. They’re from the company and the hospital, so you might find something there.”

Fortunately, there were still places left to search.

*

“I got some aged kimchi from the countryside, and it’s perfectly fermented. I’m making stew, so come over for lunch.”

Because of that, I arrived at Han Jeongwon’s house earlier than usual.

As I sat in the living room waiting for lunch, I heard a thumping noise from upstairs.

At first, I didn’t think much of it, but the steady rhythm of the sound struck me as odd.

“Is someone upstairs?”

I knew there were other rooms besides Jeongwon’s, but I had assumed they were empty.

Whenever I had gone up there, the space had felt completely unoccupied—no signs of life at all.

Her father had passed away early, and her mother had raised Jeongwon alone while running a restaurant.

She struggled at first, but the business eventually flourished, and now she lived comfortably.

“She doesn’t have any siblings, though…”

Jeongwon’s profile listed no brothers or sisters.

Her mother had never mentioned any other family members either.

So then, who was making noise upstairs?

Just as I was wondering about it, the thumping sound echoed again while her mother was in the living room.

“Oh dear, how could I forget?”

She hurried to the kitchen, gathered some food, and quickly carried it upstairs.

The way she rushed up made it clear that whoever was up there wasn’t just anyone.

A few moments later, our eyes met as she came back down.

“I thought you lived alone, but it seems like someone else is here?”

“Ah, well….”

She trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

“You don’t have to tell me if it’s difficult to explain. More importantly, I’m starving. You said the aged kimchi is delicious, right?”

I flashed her a grin.

*

We sat across from each other at the dining table, eating in silence.

I was so focused on reading her expression that I barely noticed whether the stew was going into my mouth or my nose.

After a few spoonfuls, she let out a sigh and put her spoon down.

“I never really talked about my family, aside from Jeongwon, right?”

“Other than mentioning that your husband passed away early, no.”

She fell silent for a while.

It seemed like she was debating whether to speak or not.

“I’ve kept my mouth shut for years, but strangely, when I look at you, I feel like I want to talk. Maybe the weight of it all has grown too heavy to keep bottled up inside.”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll listen. You don’t have to worry—I’m good at keeping secrets.”

“I can tell, even without you saying it. Talking to you, I get this feeling that I can trust you. After running a business for so long, I’ve learned to be skeptical of people, but with you… it’s strange.”

[Your Gift of Relationships is working perfectly. I can see that her trust in you has deepened.]

Once again, my Gift was putting in the work.

“I have another daughter. Her name is Jeongah.”

So Han Jeongwon had a sibling—an older or younger sister named Han Jeongah.

“Your daughters have similar names.”

“They looked exactly alike, so I gave them matching names.”

Wait.

“They looked exactly alike?”

“They’re identical twins. Even I, their mother, could barely tell them apart.”

Oh.

I was at a loss for words.

“So that’s what it was.”

The pieces of the puzzle finally fit together.

The girl I had seen on stage wasn’t Jeongwon—it was Jeongah.

“Jeongwon’s profile at the company didn’t mention a twin sister.”

“That’s because I left it out on purpose. Jeongwon wouldn’t even let me bring up Jeongah.”

There must be a story behind that.

Putting her meal aside, she began recounting their past.

*

“They were such beautiful children.

Everywhere we went, people told me I should make them celebrities.

And they both dreamed of becoming stars, too.

They held hands and went to so many lessons—piano, ballet, acting, music… you name it.”

But their paths split after middle school.

“Jeongwon didn’t want to go to high school—she insisted on becoming a trainee right away. She said plenty of trainees drop out when things go well, so there was no point in attending school.”

Convinced by her daughter’s determination, their mother didn’t send Jeongwon to high school.

“Jeongah gave up on becoming an idol because of Jeongwon. If there were two identical-looking idols, people would get tired of them. So Jeongah decided to pursue acting instead and enrolled in Seorim Arts High School.”

If Jeongah was willing to sacrifice her own path for her sister, they couldn’t have had a bad relationship.

So why had Jeongwon hidden her existence?

“Were they not on good terms? You said Jeongwon didn’t even want her mentioned.”

“Jeongah got into trouble at school. She got into a fight with a classmate, but it escalated into a bullying incident, and a disciplinary hearing was held.”

Oh.

“I went to the school late because of the restaurant, and by the time I got there, Jeongah had already been labeled the perpetrator.

Looking back, I should’ve investigated more, but I was so ashamed that I just scolded her instead.

I shouldn’t have done that…”

Her throat tightened, and she couldn’t continue speaking.

When even her own mother didn’t take her side, Jeongah completely broke down and ended up dropping out of school.

She locked herself in her room, and that was already two years ago.

“She hasn’t left her room in two years?”

“She started coming down to the living room from time to time this year, but after what happened to Jeongwon, she shut herself in again. I haven’t seen her face in four months.”

The mother brought food to her room twice a day and left packages by the door whenever deliveries arrived.

“I’m at the restaurant in the evenings, so I think that’s when she comes out.”

Now I understood why Jeongwon had hidden Jeongah’s existence.

She must have been afraid that having a sister involved in a school violence case could come back to haunt her.

In this industry, it doesn’t take much to ruin someone’s career—one small rumor can make or break a person.

Agencies tend to focus on an idol’s personal character, school life, and friendships, but they rarely dig into their family background.

Unless it’s the parents, it’s easy to hide a sibling if one is determined enough.

“This isn’t going to be easy.”

One hurdle had been cleared—I had confirmed that she was alive.

But now, I had to deal with a mentally broken shut-in.

Even if I managed to get her out of her room, I still had to address the school violence issue her mother had mentioned.

I had solved one problem, only for two more to take its place.

“Well… my Gift showed me this future, so there must be a way through.”

To speak with Jeongah, I first needed to persuade her mother.

“As a manager at an idol agency, I’ve met plenty of kids with serious mental struggles—ones who made me wonder if they could ever stand on stage. I’ve even seen cases worse than Jeongah’s.”

I laid the groundwork.

“I’m good at dealing with kids who are mentally fragile. That’s why I’d like to talk to Jeongah. Maybe I can help her.”

A small white lie—but I felt a sharp sting at the back of my neck.

So Yeoreum and Cha Soyeon must have sensed my Gift activating.

Her mother looked at me in shock.

“Why are you going this far? You have nothing to do with Jeong-ah.”

“That’s not true.

Jeongwon, who looked exactly like her, pursued her dream of becoming an idol at my company.

She may not have fulfilled that dream, but if she were still alive, I might have been her manager.

So I can’t say I have no connection at all.”

It was pure meddling with no real reason behind it, but it was enough to touch the heart of a mother who had been influenced by my Gift.

“And if Jeongah continues to live like this after what happened to Jeongwon… how will you go on, Mother? I want to help her return to a normal life.”

In the end, she broke down in tears.

“H-h-hng…Jeongwon…Jeongah….”

I waited silently until she had cried herself out.

*

“You can go up, but don’t expect much. She always locks the door, so even getting her to open it will be tough.”

With her permission, I went upstairs.

I knocked.

No response.

“Jeongah, you know about Pine Entertainment, right? I’m Shin Juwon, a manager there. I’d like to talk to you—could you open the door?”

I heard mumbling from inside, but I couldn’t make out what she was saying.

I knocked a few more times, repeating my request, but her response remained the same.

“Open the door.”

[Understood.]

With a click, the door unlocked.

Even though it was broad daylight, the room was so dark that I couldn’t see a thing.

As I stepped over the threshold to turn on the light, a beastly roar erupted from inside.

“Kyaaaah! Get out right now!!”

A flash of movement—something flew straight at my forehead.

Stumbling backward into the hallway, I barely dodged it. But before I could react, the door slammed shut.

“Ugh… why didn’t you stop that?”

[Handle the small stuff yourself. She’s not actually hostile.]

“Not hostile, my ass. She just threw something at me!”

I sat down in the hallway, trying to come up with a plan.

“She’s like a wild animal. I wish I could just shoot her with a tranquilizer dart.”

[Should I put her to sleep?]

“Huh? You can do that?”

[When God created man, he whined about being lonely. So, God put him to sleep, took out a rib, and created woman. I can put her to sleep so deeply that she wouldn’t even notice if I took a rib.]

The way it said that so casually sent chills down my spine.

“O-okay? Then… yeah, do it.”

A moment later, the divine voice echoed in my mind.

[She’s asleep now. You can go in.]