On her way to the dressing room, Son Yoon-joo absentmindedly recalled the president's fiery gaze.
Those blazing eyes seemed ready to ignite her, merging them into one.
Thud~
A sharp pain hit her shoulder, and she stumbled back, falling to the floor. Her head struck the wall, eliciting a pained cry: "Ah!"
"Aish, damn it… Don't you watch where you're going?" A fat, menacing man glared, cursing.
"Sorry, so sorry." Son Yoon-joo, enduring the pain, staggered up, bowing in apology.
In this rigidly hierarchical country, colliding with a senior was a grave offense.
No matter who was at fault, Son Yoon-joo was the one in the wrong.
Kim Sung-hoon, already furious over his artist's disobedience, was now bumped by a rookie.
His anger erupted like a volcano.
But then, he saw her tear-streaked, delicate face.
Stunning!
"Is this your apology? Which company are you from?" Putting on his president's airs, Kim Sung-hoon was already scheming.
"Sorry, terribly sorry, it's all my fault. Please forgive me." Son Yoon-joo didn't want to cause trouble for her boss.
She avoided his question, bowing repeatedly.
Seeing her meekness, Kim Sung-hoon was sure she was from some no-name company.
Or maybe a solo act, lucky to be picked by CJ.
"Aish, I'm asking which company! Still not talking?"
His furious roar drew staff attention. Recognizing Kim Sung-hoon, they groaned inwardly.
"President Kim, what's wrong?"
"You're just in time. This rookie crashed into me and doesn't even know how to apologize. Ignores what I say."
"Are newbies these days so rude, lacking basic manners?"
"What's with you? Don't you know this is Kim Sung-hoon, Chairman Kim?"
"Apologize now." The staff stepped between them, sternly ordering her to comply.
Tears welled up, her fists clenched with grievance, but experience told her to obey.
"Sor—" Her shoulders, starting to bow, were held back by a strong hand.
A shadow flashed before her.
Bang~ Thud.
Looking up, the once-arrogant Kim Sung-hoon lay five or six meters away, writhing in pain, hands clutching his chest.
His gaping mouth made no sound, his twisted face like a ghoul's.
Shielding her behind him, Lee Jin-woo's towering presence overwhelmed. The staff, lips trembling, tried to explain.
"You told her to apologize?" His icy voice carried a deadly threat, every cell in the staff's body screaming to survive.
"N-No… I was worried President K-Kim would harass her. I was helping, r-really."
Stammering, the moment his gaze shifted, the staff's legs gave out, collapsing in a sweaty heap, as if pulled from water.
Striding like a tiger, Lee Jin-woo reached Kim Sung-hoon, who, catching his breath, spat venomously, "You dare hit me? Do you know who I am? I'll make you—"
Thud!
A size 44 shoe slammed onto his face, the hard heel grinding into his filthy mouth.
"Ahh…" Blood trickled from his lips, a gash somewhere spraying a streak onto Lee Jin-woo's clean shoe.
"Shibal, filthy mutt, aish…" Lifting his foot, he kicked.
Bang, bang!
"President Lee, stop!" A crowd rushed over, frantically grabbing his waist to pull him back.
But his foot kept landing on Kim's face.
"President Lee~~" The PD was losing it—this could kill someone.
"Jin-woo." Son Kyung-sik's voice rang out. The foot, poised to strike, froze mid-air.
Turning, Lee Jin-woo muttered irritably, "Shibal~"
Removing his bloodied shoe, he tossed it onto Kim's face. "Get me a new pair. Your blood ruined these.
Designer, got it? Aish, heee~ tui."
Taking off the other shoe, he stood in black socks, flashing a bright smile and spreading his arms.
"Three Inches, you came yourself? Aigoo, who made you come all this way? Damn them."
Taking charge like he owned the place, he amused Son Kyung-sik.
Glancing at Kim Sung-hoon, whimpering like a beaten dog, blood pooling everywhere, Son grimaced.
Waving dismissively, he snapped, "Take him away. Disgusting."
Son's security team moved, dragging Kim out by his arms.
"Let's sit in my office." Son invited, clearly with something to discuss.
"My person's here. Can she come?"
"Bring her."
Glancing at the pitiful yet alluring Son Yoon-joo, he understood Jin-woo's anger.
The palace-like office doors blocked her view.
Her boss was inside with the Vice Chairman, while she waited in the lounge.
A sharp, aloof female secretary brought her a handcrafted coffee and magazines to pass the time.
"Thank you." Nodding, Son Yoon-joo sat cautiously.
Gazing at the lounge—high ceilings, crystal chandeliers, at least 40 pyeong—most couldn't afford this in a lifetime.
Thud~
Son Kyung-sik's phone hit the table heavily, signaling his displeasure over the hallway incident.
"Jin-woo, you know this can't be hushed up. Soon, the whole industry will be buzzing. Did you think this through?"
Fuming on the sofa, he glared sternly. "What were you thinking? No matter how mad, you can't beat someone like that in public."
A small entertainment president wasn't his concern.
But the resulting PR mess could hurt CJ if he did nothing.
"Three Inches, since '05, SM's been making moves in entertainment. They say the latecomer wins. Isn't CJ worried?"
"SM?"
Son scoffed. "CJ's the industry's aircraft carrier. No matter how strong the foe, they're nothing before it."
SM was just a culture company; CJ owned the whole chain.
From production to distribution to setting standards.
They were the referee!
"But no one denies SM's threatening CJ's entertainment business."
Son's smile faded. "What're you getting at?"
"I have some show ideas. Want to collaborate?"
Partnering with CJ E&M was Lee Jin-woo's plan before the fight.
But he wasn't sure how to sway Son.
Could he perfectly recreate those movies, dramas, and variety shows from memory?
He lacked confidence.
Now, he had enough to face Son Kyung-sik, saying, "Let's team up to make the carrier an even scarier fleet."
[Ding!]
[Congratulations on triggering hidden reward: A boss who can't protect his own should sell stew.]
[Standing up for your people under threat shows a boss's duty. Reward issuing.]
[Reward: Hallyu Media Library.]
[PS: 5% unlocked, grayed-out content unavailable. Keep pushing.]
The Hallyu Media Library, from a quick scan, contained nearly all major hits.
Including nonexistent titles like My Love from the Star, Descendants of the Sun, New World, Parasite, and more.
Plus a variety show, Running Man.
With these, how could he lack confidence?
The office doors opened, Son Kyung-sik escorting him out. "Jin-woo, we're set. Next week, MBC."
"I'll be on time." Arms open, he looked at Son Yoon-joo, standing awkwardly by the sofa. "Not coming? Need me to carry you?"
"Ah~ Oh~" She clacked over in heels, nervously pressing against his right side, letting his raised arm drape over her shoulder, pulling her close.
"Haha…" Waving with a sly grin, he strode into the elevator without looking back.
"Like his old man, a lustful wolf." Son shook his head, his smile carrying intrigued depth.
Humans were made of desires.
Some craved money, others lust, power, or perversion…
That made a complete person.
A young man indulging in beauty was normal. Maybe that's why he got into entertainment, sparking ideas.
The pitch sounded good, but its success depended on market response.
Would people accept and love it? That was key.
"Hey, Jin-woo… Lee Jin-woo, stop! Didn't hear me?"
A hard pat on his shoulder made him turn, annoyed, to see a youthful, beaming face.
"Aish, it's really you! Thought I got the wrong guy!"
A sharp suit, middle-parted hair gelled flat like a dog's lick.
Acting like a smug adult—hilariously absurd.
"Jo Young-joon?" Lee Jin-woo frowned, uncertain.
Jo laughed, exasperated. "Pretending not to know me too? We're bros, best bros!"
Smack~
A slap to his forehead, Lee Jin-woo snapped, "Call me hyung, speak properly, got it?"
"Yes, hyung." Jo stood straight, hands at his seams, bowing 90 degrees.
(End of Chapter)