Their Thoughts
Ki-jin felt as if he were floating on air.
Chairman Jang, whom he had been courting with every ounce of care he could muster, had just announced that he would entrust him with three hundred billion won in assets to manage.
Yes! That wine my brother-in-law gave me must really be working its magic.
His performance bonus alone this year would come to six billion won.
Over the phone, Chairman Jang's voice had been as lively as a man in his forties, and he had even thanked Ki-jin profusely for the introduction.
But by the afternoon, his mood had taken a nosedive.
The culprit, as always, was Chairman Choi.
Who knew what kind of shameless bragging Chairman Jang had pulled off? Chairman Choi had called, absolutely foaming at the mouth.
At first Ki-jin handled him with a few polite deflections, but the old man carried on like a kindergartner throwing a tantrum at his mother, demanding that he too be supplied with the tonic immediately.
Then he started calling every thirty minutes just to torment him.
When it became clear that answering any more calls would mean getting no work done at all, Ki-jin simply started ignoring them.
Whereupon Chairman Choi came charging into the office and began raising holy hell.
He didn't care one bit that the employees were watching.
The genuinely awkward standoff dragged on for more than an hour.
When the man declared that if Ki-jin could get him the tonic, he would entrust him with as much money as he wanted, Ki-jin's ears did prick up — but it seemed he would need Chairman Jang's blessing first.
That was simple professional courtesy.
Not that Chairman Jang was about to grant it today.
Knowing the old fox, he was clearly planning to dine out on Chairman Choi's misery for at least a week.
The problem was that Ki-jin had no confidence whatsoever in surviving that week himself.
He figured he'd probably lose ten kilos or more.
Badgered by Chairman Choi and trampled by work, he didn't drag himself home until late at night.
When he walked through the door, the kids all seemed to be asleep already.
And there was his wife, dressed in something decidedly skimpy, giving him a sultry look.
Ah, whatever.
Tonight's for me and the missus.
Tomorrow's problems could wait until tomorrow.
The moment the production showcase ended, Chairman Jang raced straight to Ji-hye's place.
Running into Young-hoon at the showcase had been a surprise, but hearing the song Young-hoon had written and composed — that had truly been something. It reminded him of the burning young love he'd shared with his late wife, and it moved him deeply.
Just who in the world is that Young-hoon fellow? Now I'm curious.
At the showcase, he had also made a point of boosting the young man's standing. Seeing Young-hoon accept the officetel he'd promised as a gift without any real protest, it seemed the studio apartment he was living in really was cramped.
When he stepped inside the house, Ji-hye was already waiting for him, having closed up the tea shop early.
She had run a full match all morning.
After popping into the showcase for a few hours of rest, her body was once again brimming with vigor.
Everything so far had been the round of sixteen, which meant tonight called for the quarterfinals.
And with her level having risen, the match would be all the more intense.
The whistle was about to blow.
The first half was about to begin.
Ji-hye had been run ragged by Chairman Jang all morning.
Run ragged was the polite way to put it — in truth, she'd lost count of how many times she'd been to "Hong Kong."
Her friends had mentioned Hong Kong plenty of times in conversation, but only last night had she finally realized they hadn't been talking about the Chinese territory at all.
And now she knew exactly where Hong Kong was.
Beneath heaven lies Hong Kong.
Even while she was at the tea shop, she hadn't been able to calm her heart all day. Every time she thought back on last night's and this morning's round of sixteen, her face would flush crimson without warning.
Her employees, watching her smile sheepishly to herself, probably thought she was acting rather strange.
Then, as she was preparing for the evening rush, the chairman called and told her to shut the shop early and wait for him at home.
Just how hard is this old man going to work me today? she wondered — and yet, despite herself, she felt a secret thrill of anticipation.
The moment she got home, she changed into her playing uniform and waited for her opponent to enter the arena.
Before long, the opposing player stepped onto the field.
The moment that whistle blew, the match would be underway.
Kickoff of the first half of the quarterfinals.
She knew she'd need to pace herself and conserve her strength if she hoped to go the distance — second half and overtime included — but from the very first minute she was being pushed around by a man in his seventies.
It looked like tonight she'd be making at least five or six round trips to that Hong Kong beneath heaven.
Chairman Choi was so livid he couldn't sleep.
There were exactly two arenas in which he had unmistakably beaten his eternal rival, Chairman Jang.
The first was grandchildren.
He had two sons and five grandsons, while Chairman Jang had a single daughter and two granddaughters.
He was decisively ahead on sheer numbers.
Every day that old snake Jang mocked him about his children being unemployed bums — but so what if they were bums? His own wealth was beyond counting anyway.
Granted, Jang's wasn't much different, but even so, spending it all down before dying would take a hundred years at a hundred million won a day.
So who cared if they were bums? They'd at least given him five grandsons.
The other decisive victory was virility.
Even now, Chairman Choi maintained an active bedroom life under his personal physician's prescription.
Admittedly, age had its limits — he couldn't run a marathon match anymore.
Ten to fifteen minutes was about all he had.
But hey, it was something.
Meanwhile, they said old Jang couldn't even get a Viagra prescription anymore.
And then, this afternoon, that phone call from Chairman Jang had blown the whole narrative apart.
His voice had been bursting with vigor, and he'd bragged that from last night through this morning he'd run a full match — first half, second half, and overtime, some seven or eight hours straight.
But Chairman Jang, for all his boasting, was too proud to outright invent things that never happened.
Which meant that even granting only fifty percent of it, the man had clearly run a match of three or four hours.
There was no doubt about it: that old snake had gotten his hands on some five-hundred-year-old wild ginseng from somewhere.
Coaxing Chairman Jang bit by bit, he'd managed to find out who had supplied the tonic.
Some executive director in charge of asset management at a securities firm, one Lee Ki-jin.
He'd called the man at once. At first Ki-jin took a call or two, but by the afternoon he was flat-out ignoring him.
So Chairman Choi had stormed over to the securities firm and thrown a tantrum demanding the tonic be handed over — only to be told it was currently unavailable.
In the end, he'd had no choice but to turn back with a heavy heart.
Damn it all. And you there — doesn't your young lover next to you ever sleep? Stop pestering me!
How the hell is anyone supposed to sleep at a time like this? And Jang — that snake's probably running another three or four hours right now!
The rage burned so hot in his chest he felt like he was coming down with a literal illness.
Tomorrow, I will break that Executive Director Lee and get my hands on that tonic if it's the last thing I do.
Saturday.
Young-hoon was due at Girin Entertainment's office in Seongnam by eleven in the morning.
From here on out, Five Girls was entering their truly busy season.
He'd called the meeting to steady everyone's resolve one more time.
He got up around eight, showered, and left his studio around nine.
Come to think of it, he needed to vacate the place this week. If Chairman Jang wasn't just blowing smoke, he'd probably be moving to Gangnam by next weekend or so.
He'd have to prepare well in advance.
Saturday mornings weren't too congested — traffic only started to jam up past eleven — so thanks to his early start, he arrived at the office around ten thirty.
He opened the door and stepped inside to find President Lee Jae-man, along with two strangers.
One was a man in his early twenties; the other, a woman in her thirties or so.
Lee Jae-man greeted Young-hoon warmly.
"Welcome, Mr. Kim."
"We saw each other at the production showcase yesterday, and now here we are again less than twelve hours later."
"Ha, so we are."
"You worked incredibly hard yesterday, by the way. Who are the two over there, if I may ask?"
"Ah — I was supposed to report that to you and it slipped my mind. The woman here is Yoo Hyun-kyung, and she'll be taking charge of the office's housekeeping going forward — the accounting and general administration. We worked together for several years. She stepped down for a while when the company hit hard times, and I've just brought her back on. And this is Jung Gyu-shik, who'll be serving as road manager. He's Gyeong-hwan's junior from back home, and he was a division commander's driver in the army. He was discharged only recently."
"Nice to meet you both. I'm Kim Young-hoon. Let's do great work together."
"Hello. I'm Yoo Hyun-kyung. I look forward to working with you."
"SIR! Jung Gyu-shik reporting for duty! I will serve you to the best of my ability from here on out! President Lee has informed me that you, Mr. Kim, are the true owner of this company, SIR!"
Young-hoon would have liked to chat more with the two new hires, but the circumstances simply wouldn't allow it. The office phone kept ringing off the hook, and President Lee Jae-man himself was glued to his handset.
Booking and collaboration calls were apparently flooding in from everywhere.
Before long, the office door swung open and the whole squad trooped in.
Eight people, Five Girls included, piled in at once.
With twelve of them gathered, the office suddenly felt decidedly cramped.
Even amid all this, Lee Jae-man couldn't tear himself away from the phone, and Gyeong-hwan was on a call in the corner as well.
Young-hoon decided there was no way to run a meeting like this.
"Alright — everyone, power off your phones right now. I'm giving you five minutes. Finish any calls you need to make before then. Five minutes from now, I don't want to hear a single ring in this office. Ms. Yoo Hyun-kyung, please put down every receiver on the office phones."
At his words, everyone fiddled with their phones, and the landlines went dead. Precisely five minutes later, the office was silent as the grave.
Only then did Young-hoon step forward and chair the meeting.
"I called you all together because there are things I need to say. As you all know, Five Girls started making a name for themselves yesterday. We're already drowning in booking calls, so from here on it's going to be a complete blur. That's exactly why I've gathered you — to remember where we started."
Young-hoon looked around the room once more before continuing.
"First: the members of Five Girls are the face of this company. Up until yesterday, you lived relatively freely — but from now on, you'll need to live a little more carefully. In other words, you are public figures now. Your every move will be in the press and on the news. So whatever you do, do it with care."
Everyone in the office answered in a resounding chorus.
"Yes, sir! We'll keep that in mind!"
"Second: President Lee Jae-man, within this month, I need you to complete preparations to relocate Five Girls' dormitory and the Girin Entertainment office to Gangnam, Seoul. Pick a location that makes it easy to get out of Seoul quickly. As for the dorm, choose a quiet place that keeps the members out of the public eye, with at least one private room per person."
At that, President Lee Jae-man raised an objection.
"I understand exactly what you're asking, Mr. Kim, but the company simply doesn't have that kind of money right now."
"I know. As soon as this meeting ends, arrange a meeting with PD Shin Hye-yoon of Sinabro Production and rewrite the OST contract. The terms won't change — but the advance payment has grown substantially."
President Lee Jae-man had absolutely no idea what Young-hoon was talking about.
But one thing was certain: something enormous was happening to Girin Entertainment right now.