Chapter 224
Chapter 224
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 224
Chapter Title: The Castella Scandal
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Park Sang-won fidgeted restlessly, glancing around before finally blurting out a single line.
“The CEO’s tougher than I expected.”
No Se-hee swept her hair back as she replied.
“Yeah.”
Park Sang-won jumped right in after her.
“Should we prep it again and pitch once more? Beef up the data, run the break-even analysis—even the CEO would bite, right? Isn’t that so, Yang Deputy?”
Yang Ji-ah, who had been dithering beside them, jumped in surprise when her name was called. She lowered her gaze slightly and added,
“W-well... I don’t know if the CEO would go back on his word so easily...”
“Ugh. Why let a golden idea like this slip away?!”
Park Sang-won clicked his tongue. This project was what the team—led by No Se-hee—had been fired up about as their next big thing for a while now.
Especially now that [Churros & Black] had been a smash hit, it made no sense to just leave a tempting target like Taiwanese castella on the table.
“Hmm... I don’t really get it, but the CEO’s decisions always have some reason behind them.”
Yang Ji-ah whispered softly.
“Maybe he sees something we don’t? ...Possibly.”
“Yang Deputy, we dug into all this while prepping the project. It’s got real potential—no major red flags.”
Park Sang-won rarely raised his voice at Yang Ji-ah.
“But the CEO’s saying we should wait until the market bubble bursts? That’s just handing a blue ocean over to turn into a red one.”
“Enough, Park Deputy.”
“No Team Leader!”
No Se-hee reined Park Sang-won in. He looked a bit hard done by, but this was familiar territory for her.
She leaned against a corner of the rooftop and exhaled a plume of cigarette smoke.
“Nothing new about it. We’ve been through this at the old company.”
“...”
Bad memories must have surfaced—both Park Sang-won and Yang Ji-ah clamped their mouths shut.
Right. They’d forgotten while working at The Song, but they’d once been mired in that exact sense of powerlessness.
“At Hyunmu, we’d get saddled with projects for no reason we knew, or our projects would get handed off to other teams.”
“...Ugh. Still gives me chills thinking about it.”
“Those memories are coming back...”
As Park Sang-won and Yang Ji-ah voiced their PTSD, No Se-hee just gave a faint smile.
“Guess all companies end up pretty much the same.”
Of course, it was nothing like Hyunmu. The bigger a company got, the less individual opinions mattered.
It was just the unavoidable growing pains as The Song expanded—easy enough to accept.
‘Still feels bittersweet.’
No Se-hee gazed at the sky beyond the rooftop, lost in a strange melancholy. She’d been staring at it for years now, and it never got old.
She’d been thrown at first when she arrived, but spotting Song Woo-yeon’s clear potential had flipped her mindset in an instant.
Once she’d decided to stick with him, No Se-hee had witnessed one jaw-dropping event after another.
The tiny company’s explosive growth in such a short time. Song Woo-yeon’s endless well of ideas and encyclopedic food knowledge.
Where did he keep scooping up these talents from? Every hire he personally brought in pulled their weight and then some.
‘When he put that green kid in charge of new menu development, I thought we were done for.’
Now she was the company’s good-luck charm. That said it all.
‘Like heaven itself paved the asphalt road ahead for him to succeed.’
Watching him sometimes sparked envy. She was human, after all—facing an insurmountable wall naturally bred doubt.
She’d brushed it off as the woes of the well-fed.
‘...Is this place doomed to follow Hyunmu’s footsteps too?’
Irrational decisions. Choices leaning on execs’ moods and gut feelings despite solid data and evidence. And the underlings left to clean up the mess.
It was familiar, but far from pleasant.
Like watching a bloom in full splendor start to wilt. The gut punch of realizing that radiant moment was now just a bygone glory.
“Let’s head back in.”
No Se-hee shoved down her tangled emotions. There was nothing stupider than baring your soul in front of your subordinates.
She soothed the upset Park Sang-won and comforted the wary Yang Ji-ah before returning to her desk.
“...”
Even at her desk, she couldn’t focus—ended up just fiddling with her mouse.
Her mind stayed scrambled until quitting time; she barely remembered how she got any work done.
She surrendered to the rattling subway on the way home, showered, scarfed down dinner, and only cleared her head once seated at the table.
Ding.
No Se-hee flicked on the TV out of habit. She craved something mindless, like a variety show.
She flipped channels hunting for a Yoo Han Challenge rerun.
-Today’s healthy and tasty dish using burdock...
Cooking variety show.
-This morning’s accident in central Seoul has traffic backed up around the Han River...
News.
-Oppa, I’ve been through so much...
Drama rerun.
-What a goal! Goooal!
Sports.
Channel after channel flew by, but nothing clicked.
-Boss, you can’t do this!
“Ugh.”
She groaned involuntarily when [Song Woo-yeon’s Alley Secrets] popped up and hurriedly switched channels.
‘Seeing a work face on TV isn’t easy.’
As she rubbed her startled chest, a serious voice rang in her ears.
-...and what you’re seeing now is ‘Taiwanese castella’ made with expired eggs...
Taiwanese castella?
The word that had cluttered her mind all day jumped out. She snapped her head up to see a scene of castella being made in an utterly unsanitary spot.
No Se-hee reflexively checked the program. It was SBC’s Live Yesterday.
-The hugely popular Taiwanese castella has been hiding hygiene issues like this. The Food Ministry has stated clearly...
Loaded words, chaotic visuals of filth. This was prime fodder to rile up consumers.
She stopped listening altogether.
Forgetting her dinner, she snatched her phone. The Naver portal loaded straight to the top trending searches.
「1. Taiwanese Castella new
2. Hygiene new」
“...”
No need to click—she knew. Ripple from the broadcast.
No Se-hee quickly crunched the numbers on the fallout. Consumers would pump the brakes hard, first off.
For shops just starting out, hitting break-even early was make-or-break.
Couldn’t cover loan interest? Shutting down was the smart play.
Rookie owners wouldn’t flex through a sales nosedive without spare cash—bankruptcies would pile up.
Plus, eggs and milk were short-shelf-life perishables. Couldn’t sell ’em? Straight to the trash.
All those losses landing on individual shoulders.
‘Not just shrinkage—this market’s toast.’
The verdict hit like lightning.
A chill ran down her spine.
‘If we’d actually launched and run this project...’
How bad would the damage have been?
A string of lucky breaks had saved them. But No Se-hee’s mind looped endless ‘what ifs.’
What if the meeting had been sooner? What if she’d bulldozed the project through? What if Song Woo-yeon had greenlit it as the year’s flagship, pouring in massive capital?
“Gasp.”
Her lungs burned with a ragged breath. No way it would’ve ended well.
‘Hold on. Did Song CEO predict all this?’
Absurd.
Pure coincidence, right? The very night they pitched Taiwanese castella as a business item, a TV show zeroed in and demolished it.
Logically, just a lucky alignment.
And yet.
-Managing our franchises alone won’t cut it. Once it gets lumped under ‘Taiwanese castella,’ that’s game over.
Song Woo-yeon’s words flashed through her mind.
The eerie fit with the broadcast—was that coincidence too?
-Hmm... I don’t really get it, but the CEO’s decisions always have some reason.
Yang Ji-ah’s whisper echoed, small but laced with quiet conviction.
-Maybe he sees something we don’t? ...Possibly.
“...”
No Se-hee swallowed hard.
Her trembling fingertips clenched into fists.
“Haha...”
She let out a tiny laugh, slumping into her seat as she muttered.
“Like we ever saw anything like this at the old company—my ass.”
Awe or ecstasy prickled from her toes up. Her lips quivered into a deep smile.
“Unheard of. Stuff like this...!”
No trace of confusion in her head anymore. Everything crystal clear.
Song Woo-yeon.
The one and only beacon lighting The Song’s path ahead.