Chapter 7
Everyone had realized by now exactly what Se-rang was getting at.
“Imperial headquarters no longer trains idols directly. We only oversee the entertainment business as a whole. That’s why all producers were reassigned to subsidiary agencies. But—” Se-rang smiled as she looked around the room. “Doesn’t that make something strange? A judge evaluating trainees from six agencies while belonging to one of those agencies? Do you really think that holds up in terms of fairness? The backlash would be massive.”
“!”
“And yet, we do need to bring in an in-house producer, don’t we? This is Imperial, the industry’s number one. Are we supposed to leave judging to producers from other companies? Does that make any sense?” She spoke deliberately, poking straight at their pride. “So then, what’s left?”
Se-rang raised a laser pointer she had somehow prepared in advance and aimed it at one spot on the screen.
[Imperial]
That single word.
“Headquarters. We bring in a producer from headquarters. And if you look at HR’s data again, there’s only one producer affiliated with headquarters.”
She paused.
Just long enough for everyone to see it clearly.
Just long enough for it to sink in.
“Yeon Se-rang. Me. I’m the only one left.”
At her words, the three men’s faces twisted simultaneously.
Perfectly in sync.
Honestly, you three should just become brothers at this point. Your expressions have been identical all morning.
“That’s why I said I’d do it. No, let me correct that.” She smiled sweetly as she looked around. “I’m the only one who can do it.”
Her gaze swept the room. “Anyone still have a problem with that?”
“So… Se-rang said she’d appear as a judge on Project Idol?”
Elsewhere.
In a wide courtyard, an old man wearing a broad-brimmed straw hat carefully wiped the leaves of an orchid.
At first glance, he looked like a gentle retiree.
But the bodyguards standing behind him were anything but.
Five or so middle-aged executives stood before him, stiff-faced, delivering their report.
“Yes, Chairman. The young lady personally attended the meeting and said so.” Kim, the executive who had led the meeting, answered respectfully.
“Not ‘young lady.’” The old man corrected him casually.
“Pardon?”
“She’s Director Yeon Se-rang.”
“Ah…!”
The old man spoke as if it were nothing. But Kim knew it was anything but nothing. “I apologize, Chairman. That was a slip of the tongue.”
The man Kim called Chairman was Yeon Kang-ho.
Founder and chairman of Imperial.
Grandfather of the Yeon siblings.
The man who had turned a nothing-company into a conglomerate.
And despite nearing retirement, he was still a predator in the eyes of Imperial’s employees.
“Outside the company, she may be your ‘young lady.’ But you’re reporting on her as a director right now.”
“Yes, Chairman.”
“So why are you treating her like just another child of the Yeon family?”
“No, sir. That was truly my mistake. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again. No, I’ll ensure the entire company is corrected.”
Only then did Chairman Yeon’s expression soften slightly.
That was the answer he had been waiting for.
“Tsk. People like you keep seeing her that way. That’s why Director Yeon never got to spread her wings.”
The comment was blatantly biased.
But no one dared contradict him.
Yeon Kang-ho continued polishing the orchid leaves, clicking his tongue.
“Anyway. So?”
“Yes, Chairman. There was some disagreement, but—” Kim carefully explained what had happened in the meeting.
How Se-rang volunteered.
How the others mocked her.
How Baek Do-gyeong attacked her.
And how she ultimately argued that she was the only producer left at headquarters.
Yeon Kang-ho blinked in surprise.
No matter how much he doted on Se-rang, he was not blind to reality.
He had never imagined she could construct an argument like that.
For a moment, he wondered if Secretary Cha had helped. But what did it matter?
As long as the words came out of Se-rang’s mouth.
He nodded slowly. “Hmph. She’s not wrong. Headquarters really does only have Director Yeon left.”
“Yes, Chairman.”
“So what did the others say?”
“Well… there was some pushback—”
“Stop dancing around it. Say it straight. I know those brats must’ve gone wild.”
By “brats,” he meant the Yeon siblings.
Kim shut his eyes briefly.
If he spoke politely here, he would be fired on the spot.
Chairman Yeon was that kind of man.
“Yes. CEO Yeon Sae-byeok said, ‘A delinquent like you has no right to butt in when everything’s already prepared. Know your place.’ CEO Yeon Si-ho said, ‘You think the producer title slapped on your business card actually belongs to you? Don’t stick your nose where you don’t belong.’”
“Tch. What a mess. They’re airing family fights outside too? Don’t they know shame?” Yeon Kang-ho shook his head in displeasure. “And Baek Do-gyeong? What did he say?”
“He said… ‘If you’re venting your anger, do it at home. Bringing it into the company is inappropriate.’”
“That bastard said that?” Chairman Yeon’s eyes gleamed coldly. “The one who doesn’t know his place is him. How dare he say that to his fiancée.”
You just said to treat her as Director Yeon, not Se-rang…
Kim felt a flicker of irritation, but kept his mouth shut.
“So. What did Director Yeon say?”
“Yes. Director Yeon said—” Kim wiped the sweat from his brow before continuing. This was truly nerve-wracking. “She said, ‘If you don’t like it, then rebut it. I’m tired of watching grown men whine without logic. If you’re ashamed, take the Yeon surname off.’”
Silence fell.
The other executives all broke into cold sweat.
They had known the argument got heated, but not this heated.
“Hahahahahaha!” But Yeon Kang-ho burst into louder laughter than ever. “Our Se-rang. No, Director Yeon really said that?”
“Yes, Chairman!”
“That brat only spoke facts! Complaining without logic. How embarrassing! Hah! She’s absolutely right. If you don’t like it, rebut it!” He laughed heartily, then abruptly went cold.
Kim straightened at once.
Chairman Yeon wiped the orchid leaves slowly, deep in thought.
No one dared interrupt.
“So… Se-rang finally made her move.”
His thoughts were complicated.
The eldest and second were already tearing each other apart over succession.
It was a necessary cruelty, meant to forge a strong heir.
But it left a bad taste in his mouth.
It destroyed sibling bonds.
That was why he had wanted Se-rang to stay out of it.
To live freely.
That was why he had overlooked her every scandal.
He could not give her the throne, but he would give her everything else.
Yet now—Did this mean Se-rang was stepping into the succession battle too?
“What… should we do, Chairman?” Kim asked carefully.
No matter how much the executives argued, the final decision belonged to Yeon Kang-ho. Imperial’s fate, its life or death, rested on his word alone.
The Yeon siblings.
Baek Do-gyeong.
No matter how formidable they were—All power flowed from him.
“What do you mean, what should we do? Do you have a better idea than Director Yeon?”
Kim thought briefly, then shook his head.
There was no way to defeat her argument on justification.
And Se-rang knew it. That was why she had struck precisely there.
If anyone dared say she was just a nepotism hire with no real credentials, Chairman Yeon would tear them apart.
That was why her brothers and Baek Do-gyeong attacked her viciously, yet never outright declared it impossible.
“No, Chairman.”
“Then what should be done?”
This was Yeon Kang-ho’s way.
He never voiced his opinion directly. He made others say it for him. It was an infuriating tactic, but unavoidable.
Because he was Yeon Kang-ho.
“…We’ll inform the production team that Director Yeon Se-rang has been selected as a judge for Project Idol.”
“You want to do that?”
“Yes, Chairman. I believe this is the best course.”
“‘Believe’? Be clear.”
“…Yes. Selecting Director Yeon Se-rang as a judge is the best course.”
Yeon Kang-ho turned his attention back to the orchid. As if he had already lost interest.
“If that’s what you think, then proceed.”
“Yes, Chairman. Thank you for your guidance. I’ll ensure there are no issues.”
“What guidance? You decided everything yourself.”
Damn old man.