The Paradigm-Shifting Design
"Has the chairman lost his mind to dementia?"
A P.B finance team employee muttered under his breath. He was part of P.B's finance team, tasked with managing every expense the company might incur—from salaries for all staff, marketing and promotion budgets, production costs, and even overseeing the company's financial assets. His team handled the full spectrum of the company's monetary affairs, which meant he often processed various contracts.
But the contract he was reviewing today was vastly different from the usual ones. Shockingly, it lavished unprecedented benefits on an unknown designer, unilaterally and without reservation. And to someone with zero track record, no less.
"No way? Hiring some no-name designer with terms this generous?"
A $100,000 signing bonus for a one-year contract, $120,000 annual salary. On top of that, performance bonuses and revenue shares from the works produced. The kicker? This massive sum was for a role premised on freelance flexibility. To a no-name designer, of all people.
He couldn't help but question it.
"Seriously, signing a contract with terms this explosive. Who the hell is this guy?"
He glanced at the name on the contract—Kim Jihun—and muttered to himself.
P.B was a legendary luxury watch brand. Their creations commanded prices from tens of millions of won on the low end to hundreds of millions on the high—values that struck terror into the heart of anyone considering a purchase. With centuries of storied history, they had weathered humanity's entire evolution in timekeeping alongside the ages. P.B employees earning eight-figure salaries weren't rare: the master craftsmen crafting the watches, the engineers perfecting intricate movements to artistic heights.
But those were veterans with decades in the industry, battle-hardened pros. Hiring an obscure Korean designer like this? And reportedly, the chairman had flown to Korea himself to secure him.
He even went without his secretary or an interpreter.
The story of Chairman Camiel's sudden solo trip to Korea had spread like wildfire among the staff. He occasionally dropped everything for essential talent, but chasing an unknown designer like this? Unprecedented.
So the employee had every reason to doubt.
As he pondered alone in the finance office—
"Heh heh, I see you're wondering why I hired Kim Jihun, Marvin."
A deep, resonant voice echoed from behind him. Marvin's spine turned to ice in an instant. He turned slowly, stiffly, as if his joints might creak like rusty hinges.
There stood P.B's current owner, Chairman Camiel.
"Ch-Chairman! You're here!"
The employee greeted him hastily.
Camiel. A legendary figure in the watch industry. When the quartz crisis nearly obliterated mechanical watchmaking worldwide, he had risen defiantly to save it. His charisma shone through founding the group, dominating markets—the works. He was not just P.B's stellar leader but the savior who rescued the industry from ruin.
And now, unbeknownst to Marvin, he had been right behind him. A mere finance drone like Marvin broke into a cold sweat.
Please tell me he didn't hear that.
Forcing an awkward smile, Marvin asked, "How long have you been here?"
"Hm. Since 'Has the chairman lost his mind to dementia?'"
"Gahk!"
Caught red-handed badmouthing the boss to his face. Marvin's heart pounded. In a mess like this, any penalty would be unquestionable.
Yet Camiel just smiled kindly and said, "It's no wonder you'd think that. Let me show you his value."
With that, he pulled a document from his bag—the analysis of Kim Jihun's design, fresh from that morning. He handed it to Marvin, a lowly finance employee.
Marvin accepted it, dazed. He's this confident? Was Chairman Camiel always like this?
Camiel was infamous for pursuing absolute perfection in watches—a nitpicker extraordinaire. Lax as a kindly grandpa elsewhere, but ruthless in horology.
For him to beam with satisfaction?
Is Kim Jihun's design skill really that extraordinary?
Chewing on the thought, Marvin examined the design blueprint from Jihun. His eyes widened.
"Well?"
Camiel watched him with a sly, knowing grin.
Marvin was speechless.
It's perfect.
He had a decade at P.B under his belt. Finance side, sure, but he'd indirectly witnessed countless luxury watches born, gaining a modest eye. Even his half-baked discernment could tell: this design was perfection incarnate.
Every line, every curve brimmed with exquisite beauty. Where P.B's past designs chased flashy opulence, this preserved that allure while weaving in fresh innovation. Flawlessly sculpted, harmonious.
A paradigm shift? Retaining P.B's signature yet reborn modern.
Marvin was stunned. If even he was floored, how must Camiel feel?
No wonder he raced to Korea.
I want to see the face behind this watch. But Camiel? He loved watches more than anyone here.
Gazing at speechless Marvin, Camiel said warmly, "Now, do you see I'm not senile?"
"Hup!"
Marvin flinched, shrinking back.
...
The design Kim Jihun submitted wrought massive impact.
"Look at this! The design from the talent the chairman scouted!"
"Ooh, impressive. No wonder he pushed those generous terms."
"Model this in CAD now. We need a prototype."
P.B staff buzzed with activity. The design in their hands was unbelievably masterful.
Kim Jihun—the designer Chairman Camiel personally fetched from Korea days ago. His creation was bold, breathtaking.
They were certain: this new lineup would triumph.
This design is the real deal!
Jihun's work was phenomenal. Appealing across ages without betraying P.B's heritage—in fact, enhancing it. The fusion felt innate: youthful freshness and simplicity blended seamlessly with elder opulence.
Staff marveled.
"A no-name designer's work? My god!"
Engineers gawked at functionality. "A movement design utterly unlike the old ones! Revolutionary!"
Craftsmen were enchanted by its delicacy, beauty. "How many beauties hidden in this tiny blueprint...? In my 40 years, nothing this novel and astonishing."
All praised Jihun's flair, his genius intellect crafting novel movements.
"Make it now! I can't wait to see it real."
The entire P.B team dove in to realize Jihun's blueprint. The day his name would shine drew near.
...
"Hm? P.B news?"
While surfing the web, Kim Jihun spotted a P.B-related post and clicked.
It discussed their new lineup.
Wonder what the reception's like?
Curious—and hoping for positives—he read on.
This was a watch enthusiasts' online forum, where netizens shared info.
Jihun sighed inwardly. "Not looking good."
Before discovering Jihun, P.B had bombed too many launches. Lukewarm buzz, poor sales. Rumors swirled: past its prime, tech-only relic.
So a collab with Jihun sparked skepticism.
Jihun kept surfing, glum.
Searching for P.B new watch reactions, Jihun found only negativity. Bitter smile.
Reception's really bad. Tough before launch...
P.B's rep was in the gutter pre-release. Disappointed, he moved to close the browser.
Then, one post caught his eye.
'Huh?' A positive title amid the rest. Before closing, Jihun clicked—just in case.
-Click.
The post loaded. Jihun read intently.
P.B's promo image was posted as a meme. Jihun admired it.
Great promo material.
His crystalline creation, now real, posed gorgeously for hype.
Jihun studied it closely. Not super detailed, but captures the key charms. Solid promo.
P.B must be all-in. Promo ready in under a week since he sent the design.
Will my watch sell well?
Worry and excitement mixed as he stared at the monitor.
Three days straight with triple updates... Shocked at my own perseverance whoa!!!
Just gotta put in the noooort!!!
Next chapter at lunch!