PDSG CH 04

Chapter 4

The song I made after my composition level went up—

I had a feeling that Song Joon-shik would like it.

And who could blame me?

It was the first melody I made after reaching Level D, and even I thought it sounded beautiful.

Sure enough, Song Joon-shik praised it.

He even said it was the best song he’d heard all year.

“Wait… you mean the director?”

When he said we should play it for the executive director, I was stunned.

He was the highest-ranking person in the company—the man in charge of everything.

Even Joon-shik rarely showed him songs directly.

“Yeah. We need to play this for him. It’s that good.”
“R-really? You think it’s that good?”
“Honestly, the drums and chords are still a little rough, but that topline… it’s amazing.
It’s catchy for the public and it’s fresh. That’s not easy to do.”
“Is it really that good?”
“I’ll stake my thirty-year career on it—this one’s going to be a hit.”

My hair practically stood on end.

A hit.

My song.

A melody I made spontaneously—without planning, without hesitation—
was now being called a hit.

For someone who’d only ever written mediocre songs his whole life,
this moment was overwhelming.

“Thank you, sir. Really, thank you so much…”
“No, thank you. You did well, Tae-oh. You’ve worked so hard all this time,
and now you’ve finally made something special. Congratulations.”

He patted my shoulder proudly.

I bowed my head over and over in gratitude.

“What’s happening? Is this really because my composition level went up?”

Ever since I got that strange status window—
the one that appeared when I thought my life was over—
everything had changed.

For the first time in my life, I was being praised for my music.

“If I keep leveling up, what could happen next?”

That thought filled me with excitement.

If I could raise my lyrics, composition, and arrangement levels even higher—
if I could collect more “achievements”—
maybe I could change my entire life.

* * *

After praising my song, Song Joon-shik told me to email it to the executive director.

I did as he asked, then went right back to composing.

Maybe, just maybe, I could raise my level again.

But after that jump from E to D, it didn’t move.

Occasionally, messages would pop up saying “Composition EXP increased,”
but there was no level-up.

Well, it made sense.

Leveling up couldn’t be that easy.

Still, as long as my experience was growing, I’d get there eventually—
and working hard was something I knew how to do.

A few hours later—

“Ah, there it is.”

I smiled as I spotted a familiar yellow bus coming down the street.

It was the kindergarten bus—Si-on’s bus.

When it stopped, the teacher stepped down, holding Si-on’s hand.

“Si-on, let’s say hello to Daddy!”
“Okaay!”
“Daddy, I’m home!”
“Welcome home~!”

She bowed politely, then ran toward me and hugged my leg tight,
rubbing her little face against me.

I gently stroked her hair.

“Did you have fun today?”
“Mm-hmm!”
“Did you play well with your friends?”
“Yeah! We played dolls, and I listened to teacher too!”
“Really? That’s my good girl.”

I smiled, ruffling her hair affectionately.

After saying goodbye to the teacher, we walked down the street hand in hand—
and ended up at a fast food restaurant.

It was Si-on’s favorite place: hamburgers.

When our order came out, we started eating together.

“Daddy, why did we come here today? Aren’t we going home?”

She asked while munching her burger.

“Hmm? Why? You don’t want a hamburger today?”
“Nooo, I love hamburgers! French fries too! And cheese sticks are the best!”
“Haha, really?”
“Uh-huh! But Daddy usually doesn’t buy me hamburgers. You said they’re bad for me!
So why today?”
“Ah, well… Daddy had a good day at work today.”
“A good day? What happened?”

Her head tilted to the side, eyes wide and curious—
and crumbs all over her lips.

I wiped them off and said,

“Nothing big. Daddy’s work went really well today.”
“Work? You mean your songs? Did your song come out good?”
“Haha, yeah. I made a song today that turned out really well.
And not just me—one of Daddy’s seniors said it was really good too.”
“Wow! Really? I knew it! My daddy’s the best composer ever!”

She raised both hands in the air, cheering proudly.

That innocent, boundless faith of hers—it melted my heart every time.

“Daddy! Then can your song play here someday?
Like, on the speakers in the hamburger place?”
“Here?”
“Yeah! The idol songs play here, right?
So maybe your song can play too!”

Normally, I would’ve just laughed it off.

But this time, I didn’t.

“If I really have this status window… maybe it’s possible.”

Not right away, of course.

But if I kept leveling up my composition, lyric writing, and arrangement skills—
if I unlocked more “achievements”—

Then someday, maybe my song would play in a place like this.

A real hit song.

“Yeah, maybe one day it could.”

I smiled with a bit of confidence.

After all, I’d already proven that leveling up really worked.

“Yaaay! I hope that day comes soon!”
“Haha, me too. I really do.”

I pictured it—

A mega-hit song.
Joining a top agency.
Breaking into the Billboard charts.

Becoming the kind of dad that Si-on could brag about to everyone.

“Daddy! Since you’re happy today, can I have one more cheese stick?”
“What? Another one? You already ate two!”
“Aww, come on! It’s a happy day~!”

She pouted, blinking her big eyes at me.

“Fine, fine. But then you have to eat your vegetable fried rice for dinner, okay?”
“With carrots?”
“Of course. Carrots are good for you.”
“Ugh… okay. I’ll do it for the cheese stick.”
“Promise?”
“Promise!”

She held out her pinky, and I hooked mine with hers.

“Alright then. Since you promised, I’ll get you one more. Wait here, okay?”
“Okay! I’ll sit right here and be good! Hehe!”

She started doing a funny little “worm dance” in her seat, giggling.

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Ha, so cute.”

Smiling, I got up to order the extra cheese stick.

After all, today really was a good day.

* * *

Arme Entertainment—
a small agency among small agencies.

They still held weekly meetings, but honestly, there wasn’t much to discuss.

The only active artist under their name was the girl group “Rose Gold.”
Ten years since debut. No new fans. No invitations to perform.

Basically retired.

“Man, this is bad. I don’t know how much longer we can keep the company running.”

The executive director shook his head.

The department heads around the table looked equally grim.

“Yeah. We’ve been running losses every month. I don’t know how long we’ll last.”
“Is the CEO out playing golf again? He’s unbelievable.
The company’s dying, and he’s on the green.”
“What about Rose Gold? It’s been ten years. Maybe it’s time to let them go.
No one’s calling them for shows anyway.”
“We can’t even get new trainees. People online say,
‘Avoid Arme Entertainment at all costs.’”

No one had a solution.

The company was sinking, and the CEO—the one with real power—
had long stopped caring.

“Sigh… fine. I’ll tell the CEO about today’s discussion,
but who knows if he’ll even listen.”

The director clicked his tongue and added,

“Anyway, meeting’s over.
Let’s just go eat something—maybe grilled intestines and soju?
I heard a new place opened nearby.”

A few managers agreed.

But just before everyone stood up—

“Excuse me, sir.”

The voice came from Song Joon-shik.

“Hmm? Mr. Song? What is it?”
“If you have a moment, could I play a song for you?”
“A song? Right now?”
“Yes, sir. I think something really good has come up.”
“…A song?”

The director frowned.

The others looked equally unimpressed.

What was the point of hearing a “good song” when they had no artist to sing it?

Still, Joon-shik was a veteran in the industry—respected, experienced, and senior to everyone in the room.

They couldn’t just dismiss him outright.

“Haha, what’s this, Mr. Song? Got inspired after a long time?
Haven’t heard you play something for us in ages.”

The director smiled awkwardly and gestured for him to continue.

The others stayed seated out of politeness.

But Joon-shik shook his head.

“Actually, it’s not my song.”
“What? Not yours?”
“No. It was written by Composer Yoo Tae-oh.”
“Oh, come on…”

The director scowled, and the mood in the room instantly soured.

The department heads exchanged annoyed looks.

Everyone in the company knew—

Yoo Tae-oh was the weakest composer they had.

Most thought he should’ve been fired long ago.

“Mr. Song, seriously? I thought it was your track.
Forget it. No need to waste time listening to Tae-oh’s stuff. It’s bound to be bad.”
“No, sir. This time is different. Please, just one listen.”
“You’re being stubborn, Mr. Song.
I get that you want to help your junior, but let’s not waste everyone’s time.”

The others nodded.

To them, “a song by Yoo Tae-oh” meant one thing: garbage.

But Joon-shik didn’t back down.

“I apologize for taking your time, but please—just once.
I’m begging you to listen.”

He bowed deeply.

The director sighed, scratching his head.

Seeing a man with graying hair bow so earnestly made him feel guilty.

“Fine. Alright, we’ll listen.”

“Thank you, sir. I really appreciate it.”

Joon-shik opened his laptop and double-clicked the file
Yoo Tae-oh had sent him earlier.

The music began to play—

and the best song of Yoo Tae-oh’s life filled the room.