Running the Company on Interest
Some people might get flustered by a question like that, or maybe even a little put off.
But the person I'd instinctively sized up was not that type. If anything….
"Well, it *is* interesting."
Team Leader Ahn broke into a gentle smile.
He looked nothing like someone quietly nursing an offense.
'Just as I thought.'
Not the sort who liked people groveling and flattering him under the guise of humility, then.
There were plenty of ways to win over a stranger on first meeting, but the right answer changed depending on who the person was.
And with this man, this one worked.
'…God, this really does feel like playing a simulation game.'
It gave me a brief existential jolt to realize I was hunting for the optimal route to a person's good graces, but I shook it off fast.
Either way, this was the man I most needed to impress right now.
'Then I might as well pull out all the stops.'
I spoke as boldly as I could manage, while being careful not to tip over into arrogance.
"That's good to hear. But company business isn't built on interest alone, as you well know. When this kind of money is on the table, there's a lot to weigh carefully. Please talk it over with your CEO and let me know."
I let my conviction show — the certainty that there was no option for me but Wooyeon Entertainment.
Naturally, if Wooyeon turned me down I'd be walking into another agency the very next day, but not a shred of that intention showed on my face.
'Groveling like some desperate beggar is out, though.'
No matter how much Wooyeon might be my salvation, at the end of the day this was a transaction in which both sides stood to profit.
I had to make them *want* to help me — while making sure they never believed I had nowhere else to turn.
"I'll be waiting, then."
I poured all my attention into my expression, the tone of my voice, my gestures — every detail calibrated to land the impression I intended.
Fortunately, my one swing seemed to connect. Team Leader Ahn smiled and said,
"Mr. Seul-ho, do you know something?"
"Sir?"
"Amazingly enough, our CEO happens to be a man who runs his company on interest alone."
"…?"
"I'll be in touch soon."
The meeting ended on a line I couldn't quite figure out how to parse.
After that, more than a week passed without a single word from Team Leader Ahn.
'Did I blow it?'
Entertaining that thought, I rested with tremendous diligence.
I lay on the couch and slept through entire days, ignored Hyun Jin-gae's pleas for me to *please do something with my life* while binge-watching dramas.
"Seul-ho, you're going to get bedsores. At least switch positions once in a while."
"I'll manage."
"You haven't set foot in the gym in days either. Keep this up and your muscle's going to melt away. You want to wreck that body you worked so hard for?"
"If you've got time to worry about a twenty-five-year-old's muscles, worry about your own health, hyung."
"…Sometimes I really hate you."
Whether Hyun Jin-gae glared at me or not, I stayed glued to the TV.
'You think I *want* to live like a deadbeat?'
Back in my loan shark days, I had never once wasted time like this.
When things were slow at the office, showing up at a construction site for a day of short-term labor was just my routine.
'But in Yoo Seul-ho's body, I can't even do that.'
Heading out to a worksite to scrape together pocket change and getting hurt in the process would be a catastrophic loss. Having landed in an actor's body, the least I could do was maintain the face and the frame that came with it.
'Come to think of it, maybe I'll hit the gym today.'
Hyun Jin-gae didn't know it, but I hadn't missed a single day of bodyweight exercises in my room this whole time.
Still, lifting actual weights was a different animal entirely, and I'd been thinking it was about time I got outside.
"I guess I'll head to the gym, then."
"…! Yes! Let's go right now!"
Hyun Jin-gae beamed like a delighted quokka and grabbed my jacket for me.
'Look at him, actually acting like a manager now.'
Of course, the garment he'd picked up was my suit — utterly useless for someone about to go work out. Typical.
"Hyung, if we're going to exercise, wouldn't training clothes beat a suit?"
"Huh?"
I'd genuinely appreciated the gesture, so I'd answered as nicely as I could, trying not to find fault. The reaction that came back was strange.
"D-does it? I mean, keeping the suit around could come in handy…."
I stared deadpan at the quokka, laughing awkwardly and stammering.
"……W-why are you looking at me like that?"
"Be honest."
"Why, what now… You know how scary you are when you do that, right? You want a man my age to go around wearing diapers because of you?"
"Then tell me the truth before I rip that diaper off. What are you hiding?"
When I bored into him with my sharpest stare, Hyun Jin-gae, who had been trembling like a leaf, finally spilled it.
"It's just… Director Shin told me to bring you in…."
Ha, Director Shin again.
The moment my face scrunched in annoyance, a desperate excuse came tumbling after.
"I was scared you'd get upset if I mentioned Director Shin!"
"So you lied."
"It's not a lie if you end up at the gym! If I stop by the office and then we hit the gym, no harm done, right?!"
"Wow, you've moved on to outright fraud now. You've got real talent, hyung."
When I started clapping, he deflated like a wet paper towel.
"Cut me some slack, Seul-ho…. He's been on about it for a week straight. You know how I've been buying time all this while? I told him you had enteritis. Then that you'd gone unreachable. But if I don't bring you in by today, *I'm* the one getting fired. What am I supposed to do?"
"Then you should have said something from the start."
Did I look like some psychopath who'd flatly ignore the agency's wishes no matter what happened to his manager?
'What did he take me for?'
Exasperated, I changed my clothes.
"Let's go, then."
"Y-you'll come to the office?"
"Why? Do you not want to get fired?"
"No! Let's go!"
Hyun Jin-gae scrambled out of the room in a flash.
I followed at a leisurely pace, thinking it over.
'I've been patient long enough.'
The truth was, no company could keep covering for a celebrity who lay around rotting when it was time to row the boat.
CF offers, next projects — proposals were piling in by the dozen, and I'd been stonewalling all of them. Of course they hated it.
'I can't sit around waiting for Wooyeon's call forever.'
First, I'd talk with Director Shin today.
Then I'd start weighing other agencies.
Director Shin Seung-im was thinking.
'Where else would you find talent like mine?'
He genuinely rated himself highly.
When he worked hard for the company, he praised himself as an employee without equal; when he made choices that served himself over the company, he crowed that this is what a sharp, decisive professional looks like.
By principle, a director occupied a position where he was supposed to make the agency's talent more successful — for the company's benefit.
But he had violated that principle countless times. Why?
'If I do well, the company does well. Simple as that.'
How was that any different from owner mentality?
A few people in the industry called Director Shin a piece of trash, but he confessed that, on occasion, the description rather pleased him.
'There's something cold-blooded about it, you know?'
What he couldn't understand was being painted as some irredeemable villain. Wasn't that slander?
'Realistically, who out there doesn't look after their own interests?'
The people who didn't were the real suckers.
And let's just look at the bottom line.
'Has a single thing I've done ever actually hurt the company?'
For instance, the celebrities Director Shin had gaslit were quietly handing over their fees, and the company kept raking in the profits because of it.
The textbook example was Yoo Seul-ho.
Had he not diligently spread ugly rumors about the kid to everyone around him, could a small-time outfit like Star Actors really have held onto Yoo Seul-ho for over a year?
'I brought his value down to a level that fit the company.'
Director Shin sincerely believed that.
And so he felt not the slightest guilt toward Yoo Seul-ho, nor even a trace of remorse.
He had survived in the entertainment world just as long as Seul-ho had been alive.
Yet not once had a spotlight ever fallen on him.
That privilege had always belonged to the talent.
It was Director Shin who made it possible for celebrities to be loved by the public and enjoy long careers — and not a soul ever acknowledged his contribution.
'When I was young, I was jealous of them, I'll admit.'
But that was ancient history. Things were different now.
'I want the celebrities under me to be loved.'
It wasn't empty talk. He truly wanted it.
Because in the end, the one person controlling that beloved celebrity would be him.
Every time he watched an entertainer submit obediently to his word, he could feel the power in his hands, and the thrill only sharpened.
'To make Yoo Seul-ho that way, I'll have to drag him down further first.'
He had no intention of ruining the boy.
He simply wanted Yoo Seul-ho to succeed with Director Shin's help behind him.
Not to blunder into stardom on his own stubborn strength.
—Knock knock.
"Director, Yoo Seul-ho is here."
At the welcome voice outside his door, Director Shin answered in a low tone.
"Send him in."
He was standing in a lavishly appointed indoor golf room he'd set up in one corner of his office.
A net along one wall, a practice mat on the floor, a caddie bag in the corner bristling neatly with irons and drivers.
It was a scene that practically begged the thought: Is this a management agency or a golf company?
"Hello, sir."
Right on cue, Yoo Seul-ho opened the door and stepped inside with his manager in tow.
Director Shin deliberately didn't look their way.
"There you are. Been a while."
"It has, sir."
"Have a seat anywhere."
Gripping a club and feigning a swing, he glanced over through the corner of his eye.
Yoo Seul-ho sank into the sofa with a brighter face than he'd expected, while Hyun Jin-gae, reading the room, stood off to the side of it.
"The reason I called you in today is—"
"Hyung, aren't you sitting?"
A bright, guileless voice cleaved straight through the director's sentence.
Director Shin's eyes drifted over almost of their own accord — and there was Yoo Seul-ho, facing Hyun Jin-gae and merrily slapping the empty cushion beside him.
"Sit down already."
"N-no, I'm, I'm fine standing."
Hyun Jin-gae had gone white as a sheet in an instant. He stole a glance at Director Shin and shook his head desperately.
"Why? The director just told you to sit. You should listen to the director, hyung."
Yoo Seul-ho, utterly composed, patted the seat again.
And so a Hyun Jin-gae on the very verge of tears shuffled over and lowered himself onto it, stiff as a board.
"Ah, my apologies, sir."
Only after Hyun Jin-gae was seated did Yoo Seul-ho turn his head back toward Director Shin — and flash a grin.
"I cut you off without meaning to. My hyung here was ignoring your instructions, you see. Haha! Please, go on!"
At that breezy, unshakable ease, Director Shin flinched.
'……What is this?'
A strange, hard-to-name sensation prickled through him.