The Art of the Bluff
CEO Yoon Jung-ho. The employees, who had always worked under a rather laid-back representative, couldn't help but panic at the sudden barrage of explosive work orders.
“Management team leader, could you come see me for a moment?”
“...Yes? Ah, yes. I-I'll be right there.”
The employees, who had been sitting in the conference room just moments ago contemplating whether to submit their resignations, now found themselves spellbound, sinking back into their seats, powering on their monitors, and rifling through documents.
A representative who had arrived on the scene alongside the industry's top blue chip. It might have seemed a bit much, but here was a boss who knew how to hand out real work. A boss who looked after his people. This was... an entertainment agency CEO?
After dealing with a thug-like superior for so long, suddenly encountering a normal human being felt so unreal that several employees were caught pinching their own cheeks.
“This isn't a dream, right...?”
“Did you see that list? If we just film all those ads, the company could coast for at least six months without lifting a finger.”
Life began returning to the employees' eyes. The fact that the CEO knew nothing about the entertainment industry was no longer a weakness. It was a trivial problem that they, the experts, could easily cover. On the other hand, the solid cash cow he had brought in already made him a perfect CEO in their eyes. Their favorability toward him was skyrocketing.
However.
The situation was different for Park Chan-ho, the real power within the management team, who now stood in front of the CEO's office after being summoned.
Sigh...
He drew in a deep breath amid razor-sharp tension. Being called in by the new CEO right after his appointment was hardly a good omen. New holders of power usually tried to plant their own people. It wouldn't be strange at all for him to embed one of his own in the management team, which maintained the closest ties to the agency's artists. It was more than enough reason to have the current team leader's head roll.
But what Yoon Jung-ho said was,
“Managing Yoon Seo-ah's schedule is important, but... I have no intention of neglecting the other actors currently under contract. Make sure they're well cared for so they don't feel anxious about the leadership change. If any of them remain uneasy, set up a meal with me.”
“Ah, yes, understood, sir.”
He had simply instructed him to pay attention to the other actors' condition management. A CEO who took care of existing family members who might feel sidelined. Park could only marvel, and marvel again.
“And for the manager in charge of Yoon Seo-ah, rather than bringing someone in from outside, I'd like you to recommend the most capable person from within Aura—someone who would work well with her and has a good character. Please choose personally, Manager Park.”
“Yes, understood.”
As expected of a CEO. No matter how kind he appeared, he was the king steering an entire company.
...The fact that he specifically asked for a personal recommendation shows his scheming is far from ordinary.
Even without him pointing it out, the manager list would have been drawn up and submitted under Park's discretion anyway. But he had singled it out. He had clearly placed the weight of responsibility on Park's shoulders. Since he had ordered the most capable person attached to her, if Yoon Seo-ah felt even the slightest discomfort, Park's head would roll. Since he had asked for someone with good character, if Yoon Seo-ah felt any displeasure, that head would fly. In the end, Manager Park's fate now hung on the whims of an eight-year-old child actress.
Naturally, Park had no choice but to treat Yoon Seo-ah with the utmost care. To outsiders, it would simply look as if CEO Yoon Jung-ho cherished the artist named Yoon Seo-ah and wanted to take excellent care of her.
But at this point, Yoon Seo-ah is nothing but an excuse.
He couldn't help but conclude that every part of this was a calculated plan to put a leash around his own neck. Didn't know the entertainment industry? A naive former office worker? He was convinced it was all lies, a carefully crafted facade. The man's skill at manipulating people rivaled that of a top executive at a major corporation.
“The immediate priority is assigning Yoon Seo-ah's manager... If any of the reports I mentioned earlier involve the management team, prepare them and submit. You may go.”
“...Yes, I'll take my leave.”
After Park Chan-ho left, Yoon Jung-ho quietly wiped the cold sweat from his back. On the surface he radiated cool charisma, but inside his heart was pounding hard enough to burst.
His whole life had been spent in sales, catering to other people's moods. Even at the company, he had only ever matched his superiors' preferences. Yet overnight he now sat in a position where he held the power of life and death over others. It still didn't feel real.
Rather than fully processing that he had become CEO, he recalled the behavioral guidelines Yoon Ji-ah had handed him last night.
Dad, the people there are all foxes. If they think you don't know anything, they'll try to devour you right away. Honestly tell them you know nothing about the entertainment industry. But you must not be looked down on.
Ji-ah's voice still echoed in his ears.
Yoon Jung-ho laid the company organizational chart on his desk and studied it carefully. He saw the list Ji-ah had marked in red pen as "Persons of Caution." Manager Park, however, was not on it. It had all been his own misunderstanding.
“Finance team leader... Ugh, he looks like he'll be a pain.”
He would be sensitive to numbers. Emotional appeals would never work. Yoon Jung-ho pressed his finger hard against the words "Finance Team Leader," which had not only been circled but marked with three stars on the chart.
This opponent would clearly operate on a completely different level.
At the same time. On the way to school.
Yoon Seo-ah glanced sideways at Yoon Ji-ah walking right beside her.
“I wonder if Dad's doing okay. He's not too nervous to follow the script and starting to stutter, is he?”
Yoon Ji-ah answered indifferently.
“Aren't you underestimating him too much? He's spent years in sales... He's better than me at handling people. I just supply the data. How he cooks it up and persuades them is entirely up to him. He'll make a good leader.”
Yoon Ji-ah was a sensible child. No matter how much she was essentially the true owner, she understood better than anyone that an eight-year-old kid couldn't show up at the company in a suit and start ordering employees around. She would give their father, Yoon Jung-ho, the image of a reliable stakeholder and humble leader while controlling everything from the command center that was their home.
“Don't worry. This involves his daughter's entire life. You think he'd half-ass it? If anything, he's probably doing a full-on charismatic CEO imitation right about now.”
“You think so?”
Yoon Ji-ah spoke with absolute conviction. There was nothing a daughter-obsessed father wouldn't do for Yoon Seo-ah. However, Yoon Jung-ho was performing even better than the two of them had imagined. Far better, in fact. Leadership suited him perfectly.
Yoon Seo-ah thought, He'll probably handle it just fine on his own. No matter what, he's still an adult raising two kids, and headed into the classroom.
First period math class. As always, Yoon Seo-ah's artistic soul blazed to life. The word "Math" on her textbook had been transformed into "Hydrogen Bomb." She added a mushroom cloud beside it, wrote WARNING in red ink, and finished it off with a skull drawing. The result was a surprisingly convincing Hydrogen Bomb cover.
WARNING
☠
☢
It was a masterpiece that perfectly captured Yoon Seo-ah's heartfelt belief that math was a subject capable of triggering nuclear explosions in one's brain cells.
She was chuckling in satisfaction when Min-su poked her arm repeatedly from the side. Her desk partner, who had been staring at the hydrogen bomb in awe, had created his own masterpiece: Bongsunga Academy. He had even drawn the Maeng-gu character underneath. The quality was surprisingly decent.
“Oh, not bad at all. You're destined for art school. Art school is perfect for you.”
“Right? I did good, didn't I?”
“If you don't get into art school, don't start thinking weird thoughts. Just make sure you contact me.”
“Huh?”
Yoon Seo-ah and Kim Min-su giggled as they admired each other's creations. The boredom of math class had been forgotten long ago. Thanks to that, they had also completely forgotten about the location of their homeroom teacher.
A chilling shadow fell over their heads.
“Seo-ah, Min-su. Having quite a bit of fun, are we?”
“...Hup.”
The teacher picked up Yoon Seo-ah's textbook. The nuclear bomb and warning message plastered across the cover were impossible to miss.
“...Why exactly has math turned into a hydrogen bomb?”
It was a crisis. But this was Yoon Seo-ah. A genius living her second life, after all.
With a deliberately serious expression, she stood up and continued explaining her artwork.
“Teacher, I wanted to express the destructive power of mathematics.”
“...Alright. Let's hear it.”
The teacher stared at Yoon Seo-ah with a dumbfounded look. He seemed genuinely curious about exactly how far this child could take things.
“Everything in the world we live in—desks, buildings, airplanes, even the piece of chalk you're holding, Teacher, and the trajectory it takes to reach my head—is all mathematics.”
“This kid is... certainly smart, but... go on.”
Yoon Seo-ah pointed at the textbook and continued. A proper presentation had to engage the entire body. Simply standing still and reading like a Korean textbook wouldn't win the audience's empathy.
“A single mistaken mathematical calculation can bring down an airplane, collapse a building, and plunge an entire city into chaos. Just like the nuclear bomb drawn on my textbook.”
Her desk partner Min-su was already gaping, completely dazed. There had been such profound meaning behind the hydrogen bomb? He suddenly felt pathetic for only creating Bongsunga Academy.
Yoon Seo-ah pointed to the textbook once more, emphasizing the WARNING above the skull.
“I believed that learning mathematics should be approached with extreme care and caution. It is a heavy power that must be used with absolute correctness. That is why I expressed my textbook in this manner.”
“...Fine, we'll accept that explanation for Seo-ah. Then what about Min-su?”
The homeroom teacher had no confidence in logically defeating Yoon Seo-ah's argument. If he pushed further, she would push even harder. It looked like it might escalate all the way to Oppenheimer and the Nobel Prize. And the teacher knew perfectly well that Yoon Seo-ah would absolutely go there if given the chance.
In his view, both Yoon Seo-ah and Yoon Ji-ah were geniuses who surpassed mere prodigies. That was why he turned his attention to Min-su. The hydrogen bomb had come with a grand justification and eloquent defense, but Bongsunga Academy was... clearly just made for laughs.
“Does Min-su mean that math class feels like a comedy show?”
“Uh... well... that is...”
Min-su's words dried up. As an active eight-year-old elementary student, he lacked Yoon Seo-ah's smooth eloquence.
“Teacher, may I request permission to speak on Min-su's behalf? Or rather, may I seek your understanding regarding whether that would be acceptable?”
“...S-sure. Go ahead.”
Yoon Seo-ah stepped forward. This was exactly what the homeroom teacher had been hoping for. No matter how well you decorated it, Bongsunga Academy was still Bongsunga Academy. Defeating Yoon Seo-ah had become a matter of pride.
“Min-su was expressing his desire to study in an enjoyable way. After all, isn't an academy originally a place of learning? While modern comedies often use academies as objects of ridicule, that differs from their original purpose...”
“Sigh... There she goes again.”
The teacher let out a deep sigh and set the textbook down.
“If you can't even speak properly. Both of you, go stand in the back.”
When he thought about it, he was a teacher. Their homeroom teacher. There was no need to logically defeat Yoon Seo-ah, nor to force his authority to push her aside. He simply had to punish them, and that was enough.