Chapter 9
Chapter 9
The Truth Behind the Rumor (5)
On Jeong Ji-hyun’s desk lay Kang Min-hyuk’s broken phone, snapped in two, and the SD card from his car’s black box.
Min-hyuk had said it wasn’t worth keeping—that it was an unpleasant memory—but Jeong Ji-hyun had persuaded him otherwise, reasoning that one could never predict what an ex might do in the future.
She called over an office assistant and gave instructions.
“This phone—recover the data. And set up a new phone under our company’s name.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
It took less than a day to restore the data from the broken phone.
Upon reviewing it, she found the name Yang Mi-jung and extracted related information. Yet, something seemed off.
The messages didn’t feel like normal couple interactions. There were constant one-sided commands, coercion, aggressive expressions, and even language that seemed disrespectful toward Kang Min-hyuk.
“Why did he put up with all this? What did Min-hyuk even see in her?”
Though she knew she shouldn’t over-identify with her client, the more she read, the angrier she became.
“I don’t think I should handle this case myself.”
A lawyer who loses objectivity cannot make rational decisions. She decided to delegate the case and asked a partner attorney in her firm to assist.
When Baek Seung-ho arrived and saw the printed materials, he was shocked.
“Wow, Yang Mi-jung got divorced?”
“You know her?”
“Of course. She was a famously beautiful actress. And don’t you remember how much fuss there was when she got married?”
“Oh… she was an actress, huh.”
Baek Seung-ho scrolled through the phone, frowning.
“Huh? Why isn’t there a single news article about this? There should be tons of coverage.”
Jeong Ji-hyun realized her opponent was highly skilled in controlling the media and warned Baek Seung-ho.
“She’s capable enough to manipulate the press. We need to prepare carefully.”
“Right… but…”
Baek Seung-ho pointed to the last message Yang Mi-jung had sent to Kang Min-hyuk.
[Since I’ve become a chaebol, it’s impossible for me to have an ordinary love with a normal person, as you well know.]
Jeong Ji-hyun’s eyes gleamed as she calmly replied.
“I’m about to find out what that means.”
After Baek Seung-ho gathered the materials and left, Jeong Ji-hyun urgently searched Yang Mi-jung’s name online, pouting as she muttered.
“Eh… not really that pretty.”
A few days later, her investigation uncovered a shocking truth: Yang Mi-jung was the illegitimate child of the late eldest son of Iljin Group chairman Han Chung-ho.
“Ha! So that troublemaker Hong Yu-na mentioned—that was Yang Mi-jung?”
It had already been a month since returning from Las Vegas.
Mornings were spent arriving early at work, evenings at the gym, and nights soaking in a bubble bath while reading investment reports over a beer by the Han River.
Every day reaffirmed that it had been a good decision not to quit, despite having money.
She worked in the New Business Discovery Team under Iljin Group’s Future Strategy Office, the tenth-largest conglomerate in Korea. Every month, three teams reviewed over 100 potential projects. Each team ultimately pushed only 1–2 items forward; the rest were discarded, though their analysis remained on the servers for future reference.
Having access to this massive dataset was invaluable for a new investor.
As expected, the newly appointed manager was likely the ex, but Jeong Ji-hyun continued reviewing all 7–8 top reports each month. After a month, she had already examined over 200, yet only five remained on her desk.
“Already 10 PM. Let’s call it a day.”
She stretched and got up. Tomorrow, the manager would start—a possible first encounter since breaking up. She didn’t want to look tired.
‘Heh, that’s why I’ve been hitting the dermatologist for the past month.’
Slightly childish, but she wanted to show that life without the ex was perfectly happy.
Applying a face mask and leaning back on the bed, her eyes caught the black TV screen. Somehow, since changing her appearance, it had never turned on by itself.
Checking the remote confirmed the TV was fine. So what was that footage before?
As she pondered, a whirlwind appeared on the screen, followed by messages that made her sit upright.
[Are you adapting well to your new life?]
[So far, this has been a service for you!]
[Going forward, rewards will come from completing missions.]
[Success in missions will naturally increase the probability of success in your life.]
‘Missions? Do I really have to do that? I thought life could be happy enough without them…’
Then, the first mission appeared.
[First mission: Reach 10,000 followers on Whatstar]
[Reward: Random Future Viewing Pass]
“Future Viewing Pass?”
The ability to see the future—what a ludicrously tempting reward.
Would it show successful businesses? Soaring stock values? Or real estate? Maybe even crypto or commodities.
[Since this is your first reward, a special 1+2 bonus! Miss it, and you might regret it.]
If she could see the future, this was crucial information—potentially even useful for entrepreneurship.
But she didn’t even have a Whatstar account yet. Could she reach 10,000 followers so quickly?
[No shortcuts allowed! You know that, right?]
[For your new life, fighting!]
The messages disappeared, leaving her both warned and encouraged.
Seeing through the hype, she decided the sender didn’t matter. The information alone was valuable.
The first mission always has the best reward. And 1+2 bonus? That meant three glimpses of the future. She had to succeed.
She immediately created a Whatstar account.
[Set a nickname.]
“What should I use?”
After some thought, she typed:
Mr.Zeros
The zeros symbolized the uncountable money in her bank account and that she was at a low point ripe for growth.
For the profile photo, she used a black-and-white back shot taken by her personal trainer—ensuring Yang Mi-jung couldn’t recognize her.
“Account’s ready. Now what to post?”
Food content was trending, so maybe start with restaurant visits. Knowledge of restaurants could help with entertaining clients.
‘Rich, ripped Mr. Zeros’ foodie account—it should be easy to hit 10,000 followers.’
“Though… would they serve me alone?”
Probably an unnecessary worry—just order two servings.
At the Future Strategy Office, the internal announcement board displayed a personnel change.
Announcement:
New Manager: Han Se-a
Effective: October 25, 2024
At the office entrance, a few employees whispered.
“Finally today?”
“Ugh, how long will these parachute appointments continue?”
“Parachute? I didn’t know!”
“They say the new manager is young, almost like an actress. Who is it? Looks like that famous female idol, Jang Young-won.”
They gossiped about appearance, waistlines, and even breast size.
But Jeong Ji-hyun ignored the rumors. What mattered was whether Han Se-a was Yang Mi-jung. Names could change; appearances could be altered—but if it wasn’t a complete facial reconstruction, staff would recognize her.
Even if she was beautiful, she couldn’t look exactly like the idol they mentioned. It was impossible to transform in just one month.
‘Then it might not be Yang Mi-jung.’
Relieved, she kept her composure outwardly, though inwardly, she feared facing the ex. One lapse of resolve could make her want revenge.
Seven years of love—pain and affection still intertwined.
With a bitter smile and lighter heart, she stepped out through the automatic doors.
The elevator opened. A woman emerged, resembling the idol in face and figure, accompanied by the HR director.
‘So this is Manager Han Se-a?’
Compared to Yang Mi-jung, the woman was a world apart in beauty.
‘Yang Mi-jung is still prettier.’
She was probably a granddaughter of a different sibling of the chairman—not a direct descendant.
No matter how reckless, Yang Mi-jung wouldn’t come this far just to bother her.
As she offered a perfunctory bow and passed by, she sensed a strange gaze. Lifting her eyes, she saw it: the real spirit of Yang Mi-jung, hidden behind the fake Han Se-a.
A chill ran down her spine.