We'll Have to Work It Out
The Division Head's office at KSH Entertainment.
"You don't know?"
Cha Hyunjin leaned all the way back in his chair, regarding the employee in front of him with a sour look.
"No, sir. I'm sorry. What drew him there... I simply couldn't find an answer."
Cha Hyunjin picked up the documents spread across his desk once more. The employee claimed he didn't know, that he'd turned up nothing — and yet this capable subordinate had still managed to produce over a dozen pages of additional material.
Cha Hyunjin scanned the papers, one eye narrowing.
"Perfect score on the college entrance exam. But instead of medical school or law school like everyone else, he majored in political science and diplomacy."
"......"
"Was there a political drama that hit it big around then? You know, like how Heo Jun exploded years ago and sent Korean medicine school admissions through the roof."
"I don't believe there was anything like that, but I can look into—"
Cha Hyunjin raised a hand, cutting him off.
"I was just talking. Filter it out."
"Yes, sir."
A brief silence settled, and then Cha Hyunjin went on, almost to himself, picking out whatever struck him as odd in Lee Jaewook's file.
"He had nothing. Not a damn thing. Orphanage kid, paid his own tuition with tutoring and part-time jobs. And yet over the course of college, he built up a considerable amount of capital."
"He generated consistent returns in stocks and futures. We pulled records through Daishin Securities — there was no particular investment style to speak of."
"Once he'd accumulated enough, he quit investing cold, like a gambler walking away from the casino for good. Bought one apartment, and that was it."
"Yes, sir. Immediately before he joined Assemblyman Choi Giseok."
Cha Hyunjin scratched his cheek at that.
"The type who doesn't leave any handles to grab."
"Yes. If he'd kept investing after entering politics, people would have said all sorts of things. The fact that he never touched an investment again after that..."
Cha Hyunjin lifted his head and looked at the employee.
"Normally... you'd read this as someone who'd set his sights on politics before he even started college. That would be the correct interpretation, wouldn't it?"
"Yes, sir."
"The investing was, well, because he had the ability. He came from nothing, so it's not like he had no appetite for money — but he's smart enough to know when to stop?"
"That's correct."
Cha Hyunjin kept flipping through the documents. He'd already read them over and over — and yet the man in these pages was astonishingly strange.
He had never failed at anything.
When he invested, he made money. When it was time to stop investing, he stopped — precisely, without a day's delay.
That was what stunned Cha Hyunjin more than anything. Plenty of people in this world liked to preach that money didn't matter. But turning your back when the money is sitting right there in front of you — that was not something just anyone could do.
After joining Assemblyman Choi Giseok — who, to be precise, had still been a private citizen at the time Lee Jaewook came aboard — it had been one victory after another.
Choi Giseok's existing image had been somewhat vague, but Jaewook began consolidating a support base around a gentlemanly persona. Within a few years, he'd elevated the man to a party heavyweight. And in the most recent general election, he'd miraculously brought Choi Giseok back alive from what had been a cattle-to-the-slaughter situation.
The result: Choi Giseok's stature had grown large enough to contend for the presidency...
And then, out of nowhere, a drift. Not a lane change — the kind of turn where the car takes flight and lands on a road that doesn't even exist.
"Why the hell would he suddenly become a celebrity manager at this point?"
"That's just it... I don't know. No connection to Nine Entertainment whatsoever. No equity, no special incentive clauses — he just showed up."
Cha Hyunjin drummed his fingertips against the desk.
"Just showed up..."
"Yes, sir."
"Ah, for fuck's... I can't make sense of this guy's pattern. If he likes money, go after money. If he's a man of conviction, go that way. Whatever it is, people have a direction, don't they? Why the entertainment industry, and why now? And I hear he even hid his identity at first and joined as a regular employee?"
"...Yes, sir."
Cha Hyunjin regarded the answering employee for a moment, then one corner of his mouth lifted. This wasn't incompetence on the employee's part. Nobody could analyze this. If the man were simply a capricious eccentric with no consistent criteria, at least "eccentric" would come back as a result.
But this was someone who'd been traveling in a steady direction and then suddenly veered off into something completely absurd. Of course it defied analysis.
"A woman... maybe?"
"We did briefly consider that possibility, but during his days as an aide he had another nickname besides 'the Monster' — they also called him 'the Eunuch.' The likelihood isn't very high. We couldn't find any evidence he'd ever actually dated anyone, and there were multiple honey-trap attempts that he didn't so much as flinch at."
"Honey traps meaning they tried to hook him with a woman and either run him or send him packing?"
"Yes. It's a classic method, but people still use it a lot — classics stay classics because they work. Sounds like more than a few people wanted him gone."
Cha Hyunjin's eyes narrowed.
"Then maybe men are more his type?"
"...No. As I said, he's just a eunuch. He was so unmovable they even tried it from that angle, wondering if that was it — apparently he has zero sexual interest, period. Men or women, doesn't matter."
Cha Hyunjin let out a laugh of sheer disbelief.
"What is this guy? A computer?"
A person's direction is determined by their particular desires. Not everyone pursues the same thing, but in the end, people pursue something. Whether it's money — something you can see — or a dream, a preference, something invisible.
Know the desire, and you can move the person. That was what Cha Hyunjin had always believed.
And it had always been the right answer.
But this was a first: someone whose pursuit, whose motive for moving at all, was invisible — before you even got to the answer.
"Should I poke him?"
The employee answered Cha Hyunjin's question.
"Personally, I think it'd be better not to get involved at all. I asked someone I know in political circles, and their answer was the same as mine."
"What exactly did they say?"
"They said if you're not going to be on the same side, he's someone you absolutely must not get involved with."
Cha Hyunjin made his decision.
"I'm going to poke him anyway. A simple greeting's fine, isn't it?"
I regarded the man called Cha Hyunjin in silence. I accepted the business card he held out. Offering a business card is not unlike shaking hands on a battlefield. A way of saying: even if we fight, it won't be now. Something close to confirming that neither of you is holding a knife.
From my own jacket, I drew a business card instead of a blade and held it out to Cha Hyunjin.
"Lee Jaewook."
The greeting, in exchange, was brief. There was no reason to play at humility with someone who already knew who I was. No reason to introduce myself at length, either.
Cha Hyunjin accepted my card with both hands and smiled brightly.
"We finally meet. I've been waiting a long time."
"Yes."
My one-word answer. And yet Cha Hyunjin's manner remained unfailingly cordial throughout — enough that Gyeon Seongcheol, standing behind him, went wide-eyed. He clearly couldn't make sense of the situation. The fact that he didn't interrupt, at least, was evidence he had a bare minimum of social awareness.
The Ghost muttered to himself as he looked at Gyeon Seongcheol, then passed the information along to me.
I already knew. It was in the materials I'd confirmed with Chief Aide Lee Moon-joo. I knew even better that a company growing through mergers and acquisitions inevitably splits public opinion to extremes.
I did hesitate, if only a little. The reason this man grated on me was perfectly clear. Seeing him in person made it obvious.
This isn't an entertainment industry man. This is a politician.
And not just any politician — a thoroughly worn-in one, the kind who could sheathe and unsheathe his claws at will. Cha Hyunjin, still wearing that smile packed with goodwill, spoke to me.
"I was curious, so I wanted to meet you in person. Our line of work is, in the end, a people's business. I can put up with most things, but I can't win against my curiosity about people. That's why I came without making an appointment. If that's a breach of courtesy, I hope you'll forgive me."
In that instant, a great many things warred inside me.
Could I finish this man, here and now?
Finishing him didn't mean anything physical. It meant the relationship.
Even if you have a grip on the other party's weakness, cutting them down in a single stroke takes considerable preparation. It had been that way with Baek Sungwook.
I had neither the weakness nor the preparation. Them seeking me out without an appointment was an ambush, timed for a moment when I wasn't ready. I couldn't finish this now.
So then — did I dress this man down? He grated on me, didn't he? He was not a type I liked. There was purpose in his goodwill, and not a shred of genuine kindness.
Should I press him on why he'd shaken Nine Entertainment? This man had investigated my background. Which meant he was not treating me as some employee at a mid-sized company. If I snubbed him, he would smile and walk away. Whatever he felt on the inside.
But... was that the right move?
There was no need to hand the other side a justification for a fight. Right now, the justification was mine.
If I pressed him over shaking Nine Entertainment at this particular moment, I would receive a proper apology. Worn-in politicians were good at that. This man reeked of that world, so he would apologize as if he meant it. I couldn't imagine him pretending otherwise.
But it wasn't a good option.
There was no reason to cash in a justification for a single apology. Still less reason for me to accept one.
Or... should I make it known that our relationship had gone sour? Nine Entertainment was still too weak for that. Making that kind of statement when the balance of power was this lopsided, and with a third party like Gyeon Seongcheol standing right there...
That would be an irreversible declaration of war.
Meeting a clearly cordial attitude — an overt gesture of reconciliation directed at me — and batting it away would be the worst possible choice, regardless of what either of us actually felt.
I had my answer.
I hid the blade and dipped my tongue in honey.
"Not at all. I'd been hoping to meet you as well."
Cha Hyunjin made no effort to hide his pleasure at my reply. Not because he was truly delighted — it was a characteristic of people like this. When they don't look down on you, and when they want to make a good impression, they match your breathing and follow your lead. The same way I was doing now.
"Ah, would you look at that. If I'd known Team Leader Lee Jaewook wanted to see me too, I wouldn't have agonized so much — I'd have come to see you sooner."
"You did reach out before. I was busy with work, so I cut the call short, didn't I?"
"Oh, come now, you don't need to worry about a thing like that. It's perfectly fine. People get busy — I do too. And besides, there was a mistake on our end, and I was just about to apologize for it. Last time I didn't know what you liked, so I went on about coffee and drinks... What do you like? If I knew, the next visit would be much easier to prepare for."
He came in fast, all at once. Reconciliation. And with it, a mention of what could be called compensation — or perhaps a kind of friendship fee.
"Not at all. I was the one who felt I ought to come see you and pay my respects, but work piled up out of nowhere and I haven't had a moment to think."
"Ah, work piled up... did you sign a new actor?"
He struck — and I answered.
It had its own kind of fun, actually. A pattern I'd almost never encountered since coming to the entertainment industry — though back in politics, I'd lived it every day.
To Gyeon Seongcheol's eyes it would have looked like a conversation. What we were doing now was not a conversation. It was something closer to... a piece of theater.
"We didn't sign a new actor. We suddenly... found ourselves involved in producing a drama."
Sharing the information we each possessed, within mutually understood bounds. All in service of a single purpose: a tacit ceasefire.
"Oh? Is that so? Nine Entertainment is doing production now? Have you put together a production team?"
"No. It's more a matter of joining in person, not as a company."
"In person... meaning?"
"We're co-producing TVK's next drama after Running Today as Well."
"Ah...! Really? Wasn't that the one TVK said this morning they'd give a slot to, if someone walked in with a project?"
"That's right."
"Hm? How? That was decided in a single day? Even in a rush, I figured they'd sit on it for at least a week."
I answered with a touch of modesty.
"It just worked out that way. The official meeting is tomorrow, but I consider it confirmed."
"Congratulations. My, that's wonderful. If you absorb some production capability while you're at it, it'll be a great help over the medium to long term."
"Over the medium to long term, yes — but for now, the worries come first. It's an extremely sudden entry, and... TVK has agreed to cover the full production cost, but as you know, they're going to squeeze every last won out of a stopgap drama. We'll have to work it out well within that."
Cha Hyunjin's pupils widened, then hid themselves inside a laugh. At the same time, the smile forming at the corner of my mouth disappeared into a larger one.
"Aigoo, there aren't many dramas these days that walk in with a slot already attached. You have to do it, no question. Our people down the chain were preparing something of their own, but... we've been thoroughly beaten to the punch, hahaha."
"We got lucky."
Our transparent performance arrived at its final act: a ceasefire. I didn't know how much it would come to, but... yes. This was less a friendship fee than compensation. And less compensation than war reparations. Whatever you called it hardly mattered. We shook hands, having agreed with our eyes on a modest indemnity.
Judging by Cha Hyunjin's reaction, I seemed to have named a larger figure than he'd prepared for, but that was irrelevant. If they were offering, you billed them first and sorted it out later.
Cha Hyunjin turned to go, a farewell on his lips.
"I'll be in touch."