A Father's Determination
Aura Entertainment, under the leadership of its new CEO Yoon Jung-ho. It had never cranked out top stars year after year like the major agencies, nor created anything that swept the entire country. Yet it was a solid mid-tier company that had quietly and steadfastly built its own distinct domain.
Its singers and idols stood out for performances of a polish rarely seen in their era, along with unique musical colors that earned them loyal fan support. They delivered stable sales and steady revenue. Instead of reckless expansion, the company focused on nurturing its artists. Anyone who carried the Aura name was someone broadcasters could trust without hesitation. And this reputation extended beyond the music industry. Aura’s actor lineup always emerged with high expectations from the industry as well. They discovered and developed performers with wide-ranging talent, producing actors with rock-solid fundamentals and exceptional acting ability. Even if they didn’t achieve massive stardom, these performers were consistently praised as high-quality supporting actors or reliable lead-caliber talents, steadily accumulating trust. Productions featuring Aura Entertainment actors always received critical acclaim, proving the company’s keen eye for quality projects.
The reason such a respected company began sliding toward ruin was painfully simple. It all came down to the position of CEO. The previous CEO’s overconfidence had triggered reckless expansion. Instead of reinvesting, he’d blown the money on personal pleasures. Around that time, a new representative took office. The former CEO’s lavishly funded projects failed one after another while he continued to party, completely indifferent to the company’s dire situation. The financial stability built up over years hit rock bottom. Artists and staff who had once trusted the company began turning away. The next man who stepped in claiming he would save it turned out to be nothing more than a thug—a hyena sent by some tattooed boss to bleed the remaining funds dry. Sure enough, he gambled with company money. The once-reliable mid-tier powerhouse had collapsed into a failing enterprise almost overnight.
In the main conference room of that same Aura Entertainment, a heavy silence pressed down on everyone. Employees kept exchanging nervous glances, their eyes flicking toward the door. The new owner who had abruptly acquired their thoroughly ruined company—who exactly was he? Worry far outweighed any sense of anticipation. These days, the entertainment industry was so corrupt that people joked half the agencies were run by gangsters. Every person seated here had stayed out of genuine loyalty even after others abandoned ship. But if the new CEO was just another thug? If he planned to work the few remaining celebrities like slaves, bark orders at the staff, and simply play boss? They were ready to walk without a backward glance. That was the shared resolve of every employee—which explained why each of them carried a resignation letter tucked inside their jacket.
“What kind of person do you think he’ll be…”
“I have no idea. Honestly, I’ve stopped expecting anything.”
“Sigh… Is this really how Aura ends?”
As the employees whispered, the door opened and Yoon Jung-ho walked in. He wore a crisp suit, but the tension on his face was unmistakable. He moved slowly into the room, meeting every employee’s eyes. After taking a deep breath, he stepped to the seat prepared for him and bowed deeply at the waist.
“Hello. As of today, I am Yoon Jung-ho, the new representative of Aura Entertainment.”
The room buzzed. A CEO bowing ninety degrees to his employees—at his own inauguration, no less? It was a completely different beginning from the authoritarian, thug-like representatives who had come before.
“I’ll be completely honest with you,” he continued. “I don’t know much about the entertainment industry. I’m just an ordinary father who spent his whole career in sales at a regular company.”
At Yoon Jung-ho’s candid admission, the employees’ expressions grew complicated. None of the previous CEOs’ inaugurations had gone like this. He was lowering himself, openly admitting he needed to learn? Weren’t entertainment CEOs supposed to be steeped in authority, issuing orders while knowing nothing about the business, and throwing punches the moment something displeased them?
No one knew what expression to wear while looking at him. Should they nod in agreement? Shake their heads? For now, they chose silence.
“That’s why I need your help desperately. Teach me what I don’t know. Fill in where I’m lacking. I trust your expertise completely.”
Yoon Jung-ho’s sincere words kept coming. The employees’ faces began to soften. A few even let out long sighs—but these were not sighs of contempt, mockery, pity, or frustration. They were sighs of pure relief. Thank goodness. At least he’s not a gangster. That kind of relief. Yet at the same time, a new worry flickered through their minds: Could a company led by someone who knew nothing about this brutal industry actually survive?
The loyal staff who had kept the company afloat didn’t want to suffer again under incompetent leadership. Maybe it would be better if there was no CEO at all…
Huh?
A CEO who didn’t understand the company’s operations? The only representative who had truly known the business was the original founder. The most recent one had simply gone off playing golf. In reality, the company had been running without any real CEO for a while. But the man standing before them, even if he lacked knowledge, clearly possessed the will to learn. He had openly stated that he trusted and respected their expertise. He had even bowed at their first meeting.
If this was the kind of leader they were getting, wasn’t it actually good news? The thought rippled through their minds.
“I will learn from all of you. Step by step. In return, I make you this promise. I will never allow you to bow and scrape on set over money, nor feel guilty toward our artists because of settlement issues. Your salaries will also be paid on time—without fail. I take full responsibility.”
Yoon Jung-ho’s eyes were steady and resolute. It was the determination of a father who had left his previous job for his daughter’s sake. His sincerity reached the employees. Even those who had remained stiff began to relax.
“And… I didn’t come empty-handed. It’s not much of an inauguration gift, but let me introduce the first artist I’ve signed.”
Yoon Jung-ho pulled a contract from the briefcase he had brought. The nearest employee turned on the beam projector, and the document appeared on the screen.
“She’s a child actor currently without an agency—someone many companies are desperate to sign.”
He couldn’t reveal the full contract details to everyone. Showing the name would be enough. Yoon Jung-ho flipped to the final page.
Name: Yoon Seo-ah
(Signed)
The employees’ eyes nearly bulged out of their heads the moment they saw the three characters.
“Y-Yoon Seo-ah? You mean the one from The Spring of Sapi-jeong?”
“She’s the hottest child actor right now.”
“That Yoon Seo-ah from Rascals Expedition?”
“Wait… I heard even the big three agencies couldn’t sign her?”
The conference room erupted in murmurs. She wasn’t just any child actor. This was the rising star who had suddenly exploded onto the scene in 2002, shaking up not only broadcasting but the entire advertising industry. Major agencies were lining up for her, and nearly every decent mid-sized company had sent at least one love call. For a new CEO with zero industry experience to bring her in on his very first day? The looks on their faces were pure disbelief.
“C-CEO, is this real? It’s not some one-off thing, right?”
“Yes, it’s an exclusive contract. The seal has already been stamped.”
Yoon Jung-ho smiled somewhat bashfully, but to the employees it looked like a smile brimming with confidence. I pulled this off the moment I walked in. What can you do for me? That was the question it seemed to ask.
The moment when anxiety and worry transformed into surprise, anticipation, and finally hope.
“And this… is the list of casting offers I received from PDs for programs featuring actress Yoon Seo-ah.”
Yoon Jung-ho passed over the thick file that Yoon Ji-ah had carefully organized. Learning materials, milk, children’s clothing, snacks, ramen, insurance, medicine, telecom services, apartment advertisements—it looked as if they had secured every possible CF a child actor could film in Korea. Of course, most were joint commercials with adult actors. The contract fees were quite good for a child role, but that was the limit. No matter how much of a rising star Yoon Seo-ah had become, she was still bound by the natural ceiling placed on child actors. Even so, these were all premium offers simply waiting for the right timing.
It had only been a month since her debut. Yoon Seo-ah would continue filming projects and building her image. As long as no scandals occurred. As long as she didn’t suffer an unfortunate transformation during her growth phase.
The position of Korea’s top actress is already reserved.
Talk of delayed wages had completely vanished from their minds. With the tangible hope of revival placed right in front of them, their hearts began to swell. These were people who had stayed not for the money, but because they loved the company, the work, and the artists they represented.
“Well then, I look forward to working with all of you. Let’s rebuild Aura Entertainment so it can once again radiate the powerful aura its name promises.”
“Waaaaaaa!!!”
The moment Yoon Jung-ho finished his closing statement, the employees erupted in thunderous applause. It wasn’t polite, mechanical clapping—it was hot, sincere applause filled with real emotion.
Yoon Jung-ho gazed at their determined faces with a warm smile, then spoke again.
“First, bring me the latest financial statements—especially detailed breakdowns of accounts receivable, accounts payable, and all debt records. Also prepare reports on budget and expense execution, current artist rosters, individual artist contracts, ongoing and upcoming projects, held IPs, external promotions, and current media exposure status. Once I understand the company’s overall condition, I’ll assess personnel matters. Please understand there may be some organizational changes. Now, let’s get to work.”
“…Whoa.”
“Yes… Um… Yes.”