Assistant Manager Kim Hates Idols-Chapter 225: The Bustling Sports Day (6)

Lee Cheonghyeon didn’t refuse my suggestion. On the contrary, he welcomed it. He said learning new things was fun.
So, he spent his days running around the field with Choi Jeho and his nights reading manuals under a mood lamp, diligently studying day and night.
Lee Cheonghyeon had a knack for it, a natural talent. Even though he hadn’t played much, he quickly got the hang of it. He even figured out on his own how to use the cushion to hit the balls.
‘This is so much fun!’
He might seem impulsive, but Lee Cheonghyeon actually enjoyed calculated actions. Remember how he happily spent day and night working on that Goldberg machine? Billiards was a fitting choice for him.
But if you’re the only one having fun, then it’s not really an event, is it?
I unwrapped the clothes Gu Jahan had given me and handed them to him.
‘What’s this?’
‘Try it on.’
‘But hyung, it was a gift for you.’
‘Just do it.’
Sure, people say the hanger matters more than the clothes, but when the hanger’s that good, don’t you just want to dress it up in something special? Besides, Gu Jahan and I weren’t close enough for me to worry about being disrespectful to his gift.
Thanks to his growth spurt over the past few months, the outfit fit him perfectly. During the initial fitting, the clothes were a bit loose because he was thinner than me, but thanks to his dedicated bulking up during training camp, it fit him wonderfully now.
I applauded, looking at him in the light and stylish suit.
‘So why did you make me wear this?’
‘Wear this when you play billiards.’
‘What?’
Let’s shoot a fashion spread at ‘ISD’. Make it impossible for them not to film you.
***
『Next up is Spark’s representative, Cheonghyeon!』
『Oh my goodness…!』
Commentator Ha Seomyeong was speechless. In the distance, Lee Cheonghyeon emerged onto the red gymnasium floor, his long legs accentuated as if walking on an extended runway.
He wore non-slip yet stylish shoes, impeccably tailored slacks, and sleeves rolled up to his elbows for optimal cueing. A vest completed the look, adding a touch of sophistication to avoid appearing too casual. It was a look that rivaled any classic, high-fashion photoshoot.
He even donned specialized billiard gloves, covering only his thumb, index, and middle fingers. This wasn’t a strategic equipment choice, but rather a nod to the fans’ preferences.
For some inexplicable reason, Sparklers seemed to enjoy seeing us in all sorts of gloves, with the exception of smartphone touchscreen gloves.
As if to confirm my hunch, a deafening roar erupted from the Sparklers’ section.
Are you happy, everyone? If you’re happy, then I’m happy too.
“Cheonghyeon, your outfit suggests a remarkable level of determination.”
“It’s a strategy. If I do well, I want it to look like skill, not luck.”
“And if you don’t do well? Won’t that just make it more awkward?”
“I’m here to entertain the fans, even if I lose, so I’m not worried!”
As soon as he finished speaking, Lee Cheonghyeon flashed a dazzling smile.
His only flaw was being born in the wrong era. If he were born 200 years ago, he’d be a national treasure by now, protected by the government and admired worldwide.
Because he was born in the 21st century, he needed the system’s ‘Camera Massage’, otherwise, we’d have to personally showcase his visuals everywhere. If the Mona Lisa was in the Louvre, then the Hangaram Art Museum should house Lee Cheonghyeon.
Murmurs rippled through the seated idols. All eyes were on Lee Cheonghyeon, including Parthe and that shady group of pill-poppers.
The more famous and talked about Lee Cheonghyeon became, the more those guys would try to get close to him, whether because they needed his name value to acquire drugs or simply wanted more numbers for bulk discounts.
‘It doesn’t seem like he’s started using yet… but I need to keep a close watch.’
After mentally snapping a photo of each of their faces, I turned my attention back to the match. The athletes began preparing.
Following the instructions, Lee Cheonghyeon stood with his body facing the fan section, rubbing chalk on the tip of his cue.
Seriously, that guy should have been born around 1400 and displayed at the Hangaram Art Museum as ‘Beautiful Man’.
His performance wasn’t bad either. Although his opponent showcased impressive professional-level skills, Lee Cheonghyeon demonstrated surprisingly adept cushion control for a beginner.
All he had learned was how to calculate angles, but his ability to apply that knowledge was remarkable. Both the commentator and Yur were impressed.
Although Lee Cheonghyeon lost, it was a good match. Spark applauded his effort—there was no denying it had been a spectacular showing.
***
“What’s our medal tally at?”
“One silver in vault, one bronze in table tennis, one gold each in basketball and futsal…”
Park Joowoo added medal drawings to the whiteboard he had brought from the dorm. I had no idea when he’d packed that.
Choi Jeho peered over Park Joowoo’s shoulder.
“What events are left?”
“Kiyeon’s sprint final, the archery final… and the relay.”
Two golds, one silver, and one bronze. Could a few more medals secure the overall win? I should’ve watched ‘ISD’ all the way through at least once.
We could expect a good result in archery if Park Joowoo performed consistently. I didn’t want to pressure Kang Kiyeon, so I’d set that aside.
That left the relay… but I doubted their teamwork. I now regretted not having more time to practice relays.
I wasn’t worried about Lee Cheonghyeon and Kang Kiyeon. They’d manage. As long as I didn’t accidentally impale Choi Jeho with the baton while running, we’d be fine.
“Stay put and wait quietly during the archery match. Keep your distance from everyone except the Berion sunbaenims.”
“Why are only the Berion sunbaenims exempt? Are you playing favorites because you’re close to them?”
“Fine, stay away from them too.”
“Sorry.”
Lee Cheonghyeon meekly conceded. Choi Jeho, Lee Cheonghyeon, and Kang Kiyeon. Realizing the only reliable one left was the maknae filled me with unease.
Fortunately, the match unfolded smoothly. Unlike Gu Jahan, who just
seemed
like a slow starter, Jeong Seongbin was a real one—but once he found his rhythm, he fired arrows at a pace that pressured the opposing team. Meanwhile, Park Joowoo enthusiastically shattered camera lenses, burning through the ISD production budget with glee.
And I…
『Iwol, an excellent score to match your excellent form!』
…finished my turn without embarrassing the team. Thus, Spark secured another gold medal.
***
As I returned to my spot, Lee Cheonghyeon greeted me with open arms. People were saying everything from ‘the reincarnation of Jumong’ to ‘Apollo descended to earth’—I wish they’d just stick to one title.
But the highlight of any sports day is the track and field events, isn’t it?
We donned our slogans—as promised, we tied slogans around Park Joowoo’s wrists and ankles, since he was the star of the gold medal win—and cheered for Kang Kiyeon in the sprint.
“Don’t you think Kiyeon’s legs are the only thing that got longer as he grew up?”
Lee Cheonghyeon said, watching Kang Kiyeon stretch on the track.
“Same goes for you.”
“I grew up like I was stretched with the shift key held down, but he looks like his lower body was just pulled lengthwise.”
“So you’re saying you grew proportionally, huh?”
As far as I’m concerned, all of you have runway-worthy proportions. Who are you to talk about someone else’s leg proportions?
“Still, Kiyeon… he’s gentle and cute when he’s with us. But he looks a bit intimidating standing there with everyone else.”
Park Joowoo said something outrageous with a laugh. It was funny that he even considered Kang Kiyeon cute in the first place. It seemed Park Joowoo needed to isolate Kang Kiyeon to appreciate his true nature.
As we anxiously waited, the starting pistol fired. Maybe it was because we hadn’t seen the preliminaries, but Kang Kiyeon felt incredibly fast. Right—he was always the guy with insane leg spring.
The race was decided in under a minute, and Kang Kiyeon proudly took the gold medal.  Another gold medal drawing was added to Park Joowoo’s whiteboard.
***
I met Polo again at the relay starting line. We were both the first runners for our teams.
“Spark’s physical abilities are insane. How is every member like this?”
“You flatter us, sunbaenim.”
“It’s not flattery, just look at your medal count.”
But Spark was UA’s collection of athletes, carefully selected for their tall, handsome, and charismatic visuals. This team was already like this before I even joined.
“Sunbaenim, Gawoon sunbae is the last runner for Team A?”
“Gawoon is small, but he’s a fast runner. The fastest among us actuallt.”
I saw him during the sprint. He came in second, just behind Kang Kiyeon.
“Is your goal the overall championship?”
“It’s not something you can achieve just by aiming for it, but I do hope we can pull it off.”
Actually, I’m going all in. I’m here with the mindset that it’s victory or death. I live for the win.
As if reading my mind, Polo smiled.
“Mr. Iwol, you know you’re really sly, right?”
“Me?”
“Including this aspect of you.”
Polo laughed cheerfully.
“I saw your interview with Berion earlier. You’re quite popular, huh?”
“Everyone’s been very kind to me.”
“You’re such a well-mannered hoobae.”
Between Jeong Seongbin’s recent backhanded compliments disguised as praise, and now this, I don’t understand why people keep making me feel embarrassed. When praise repeats too often, it starts to make you suspicious.
“Speaking of which, are you going to have dinner with my hyung too?”
“Excuse me?”
“With Yur hyung. He said you texted him about having dinner after ‘IDC’ ended.”
Oh right, I did.
This was bad. I’d inadvertently become the hoobae who stood up a senior in the industry.
And this was the same senior who even checked on me when he heard I got hurt.
I’m so sorry, sunbaenim.  Please accept this deeply respectful on-camera head-bow I’m about to perform in front of a million rolling cameras.