I Accidentally Became A Superstar - Chapter 391 391: Compliment Mission

Compliment Count: 3.

Zeno already wanted to quit.

It was one of those quests that seemed harmless on paper, but the reality was proving far more hazardous. His first target had been Ian. Zeno had told him that his eyes held a lot of emotion. It was true, unfortunately. Ian’s eyes were the most expressive part of his face.

However, Zeno regretted it already because ever since the morning, Ian hadn’t stopped blinking at him. Over and over again. It felt like he was trying to Morse-code his gratitude into Zeno’s skull.

The second had been Hero. Zeno called him a good actor, thinking it was the safest, most innocuous compliment in the world. However, it wasn’t. Hero’s response was immediate tears. Hero was still sniffling two hours later, and Zeno was forced to pretend he didn’t notice.

For his third target, it was Risa. He’d told her she was quite cute. It was the truth. A simple, harmless truth. But Risa had been spacing out ever since, even walking directly into a wall, causing her to pass out and go to a nearby hospital.

So yes. This compliment mission was dangerous.

But he still had to do it.

His deadline was the day of their performance, and looking at the calendar, he knew he was going to have a very, very hard time.

With that, he sat slouched on the couch of their viewing room, scrolling through his contacts for a potential target. He needed someone low-risk.

His thumb hovered over Moby’s name.

Fine.

He typed: You’re hardworking. Thank you for everything you’ve done.

A safe, workplace-appropriate, unembellished compliment.

The reply came instantly.

Moby: What do you need?

Moby: Money?

Moby: Food?

Moby: I’ll send it to you right now.

Moby: Thank you. You don’t have to thank me. I get to live this life because of you.

Moby: If I have a child, I’ll name it after you.

Zeno sighed and typed back: No.

Compliment Count: 4.

See? This was exactly the problem. Why was it so hard to compliment people without them turning it into a big deal? Even now, Moby kept texting him!

He got up from the couch and scanned the hallway until his eyes landed on Shin, who was leaning against the wall scrolling on his phone. Shin was harmless enough. Zeno recalled that his wife had recently given birth, so he decided to compliment him on that.

“You’re a good father,” Zeno said in passing, wanting to get away as soon as possible.

Shin looked up, startled, then pursed his lips. “… You know?”

Zeno tilted his head. “Know what?”

“It’s been so hard,” Shin admitted. “But, thanks. That means a lot. You’re a good man, too. You’ll be a good father in the future.”

Zeno narrowed his eyes. Why was he being complimented back?

“Mmmh.” He shook his head and kept walking before Shin could get sentimental about it.

He was running out of people he could approach without wanting to vanish into thin air. He was also consciously skipping his teammates. Not because they were far away. He just didn’t like them.

Unfortunately, that meant he had to venture further down the list of acquaintances.

His next target was Misha. She was in one of the auxiliary practice rooms, pacing with a clipboard in hand, her brow furrowed in concentration.

“I like your dedication,” Zeno said from the doorway.

She froze, halfway through scribbling a note. “What?”

“Although it can be a bit much,” he continued, “you know what you like and what you don’t.”

Misha stared at him, caught somewhere between suspicion and confusion. Her lips moved like she was about to say something, then stopped. “What was that for?” she muttered, looking away quickly.

Zeno shrugged, already turning to leave.

Her heartbeat, however, had picked up. She could feel it in her chest, loud and restless.

Why was he like that? Seriously. Why did he have to be like that?

Zeno sighed in relief as he walked through the hallways. That went well! Misha, on the other hand, was quite unwell.

With that, his free time was gone, and he now had to practice with his teammates. However, he might as well have not.

Three hours in, and their practice hadn’t gone well again.

Zeno had resigned himself to the fact that his so-called “team” had no collective interest in actually working together.

He’d been practicing by himself in the corner, going over the song he was supposed to sing. The same song no one else had even touched yet. His teammates lounged around, chatting about anything except the performance. During their break, Zeno decided to make better use of his time.

Compliment Count: 17.

Still a long way to go.

Fortunately, there were plenty of staff members around.

The first victim was the lighting operator, a stocky man in his forties who always looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. Zeno walked up to the booth and said, “The way you time the spotlight perfectly… It’s like you’re telling the story better than the actors.”

The man froze, mouth slightly open. “R…really?”

“Yes.” Zeno left before the man could respond further, not noticing how the guy was now leaning back in his chair, grinning like he’d just been handed an award.

The next victim was a young woman carrying a stack of freshly steamed costumes down the hall. Zeno stopped her. “Your ironing is perfect. Not a single wrinkle. If someone wore your work, they’d look like royalty.”

She dropped one hanger. “Oh my god.”

Zeno picked it up, handed it back, and continued walking. She, meanwhile, was gripping her chest and muttering something about “needing water.”

As he passed through the break room, a nervous intern was handing out drinks, overwhelmed.

Zeno took his cup and said, “Your coffee always tastes balanced. You could run a cafe if you wanted.”

The intern blinked at him, cheeks red. “You noticed?”

“Yes.”

The intern almost tripped over his own feet walking away, whispering to himself about career changes.

He passed by one of the set painters touching up a doorframe. “You make the wood grain look better than real wood,” Zeno said casually.

The painter stopped mid-stroke, eyes wide. “No one’s ever said that to me.”

Zeno tilted his head. “Strange.” Then he kept moving, unaware that the man was now clutching his brush like it was a love letter.

In the control booth, the sound technician was adjusting the mic levels. Zeno leaned in. “The way you balance everyone’s voice makes them sound like professionals. Even the bad ones.”

The tech laughed, startled. “Wait, are you talking about me?”

“Yes.”

The man didn’t stop smiling for the rest of the afternoon.

On the makeup floor, a stylist was fixing a wig. Zeno said, “That looks so natural I wouldn’t know it was fake unless I touched it.”

The stylist gasped. “Do you want to touch it?”

“No.”

“Oh.” The stylist still looked like they might faint.

Finally, he stopped by the stage manager, a woman with a clipboard who ran the place like a general. “Without you,” Zeno said, “this production would fall apart in two hours.”

She actually laughed, eyes softening. “Finally. Someone gets it.”

Zeno walked off, oblivious to the fact that every single staff member he’d spoken to that day now had a suspiciously dreamy look in their eyes whenever they spotted him.

“Zeno!”

It was Shin’s voice from across the hall.

He looked up to see Shin waving him over. “Come watch our performance. We’re running it top to bottom.”

Zeno stopped for a moment before shrugging. He didn’t have anything better to do. Besides, it seemed his teammates didn’t have the intention of practicing together properly.

So, he followed after Shin.

When Zeno stepped inside the rehearsal space, Sangwon clicked his tongue. “What is he doing here?”

“He’s going to help us!” Shin exclaimed.

“He’s from another team. He might sabotage us.”

Shin tilted his head. “Zeno’s not like that. He’s a pure man.”

Zeno pursed his lips and nodded.

“This is the script,” Shin exclaimed with a wide smile, ignoring Shin and handing it to Zeno.

The performance began. Their chosen emotion was Desire, and the play centered around infidelity. Zeno supposed it fit—Sangwon had cheated on his wife in real life, after all.

Zeno’s gaze shifted to him. “Are you the main character?”

Sangwon’s jaw tightened. “Yes,” he muttered.

The story was about a man with two mistresses, desperately juggling both while ignoring the fact that another man was in love with his original wife. The plot was mature, but it fit them well because of their ages.

Finally, they began.

Zach, as the unfaithful husband, leaned across a dinner table to one mistress.

“You are my moon when the night swallows my sun.”

Mistress #1: “And yet, you never see the moon when the sun still shines.”

The music showed a tango rhythm with sharp violin stabs. Mistress #2 appeared at the edge of the stage, circling him like a predator.

Mistress #2 (singing):

“Your hands touch her, but your heart is mine,

In the shadows, our love will climb.”

The wife entered, poised and cold, singing her counterpoint. “Your vows were gold, now they are dust, I’ll take them back, I’ll take my trust.”

The tension snapped when the wife and one mistress sang directly to each other, the other mistress backing away while Zach looked torn.

Shin played the character of Zane, a younger, hotter man, the original wife snags up in the end.

Then, Zach regrets everything he has done.

It was a clean performance, and it made him realize that his teammates were truly ass.

“How was it?” Shin asked, a little breathless.

Zeno opened his mouth but stopped. He realized this could be a good spot to add to his compliment mission.

“It’s sharp,” Zeno said. “Every line pushes the story forward. Your harmonies aren’t perfect, but your phrasing sells the conflict.”

“To you,” he said to the first mistress, “your restraint is what makes the desire feel dangerous. You don’t overplay it, and that’s harder than it looks.”

She flushed.

“To you,” he said to the second mistress, “you take up space like the stage belongs to you. That kind of confidence pulls the audience in.”

She looked away, biting her lip.

“To you,” he said to the wife, “your delivery is precise. People will remember your lines.”

Her eyes softened.

Finally, he turned to Sangwon. “And you—you make the audience feel why both women stay. That’s not easy. You balance their attention without losing your own arc.”

Sangwon’s brow, usually locked in permanent irritation around Zeno, relaxed. “Good job,” Zeno added simply.

For a moment, the room was quiet. Then Zeno stood and waved his hand. “I’ll get going. I need to practice, too.”

He left the room, still quiet as ever.

Then Shin, grinning, looked around at them all. “I told you,” he said warmly. “He’s a good young man.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by novlove.com