CHAPTER 2
“Ms. Woo Shinyoung. These are the purchase receipts for our team supplies. Please take a look.”
As Seo Jeongha slipped the laptop labeled Sol Studio into her bag, Woo Shinyoung handed over a blue file and asked,
“Why didn’t the youngest come today?”
“He’s out on external duty.”
“Oh, that’s why I didn’t see him. Anyway, we’re starting pre-setting soon, right? Ah, the art team is going to have a rough time.”
“Even if it’s tough, it’s fine as long as the movie does well.”
The film High Tension.
It wasn’t quite a tentpole project, but for Sol Studio, it was the most important one.
Not the director, not the actors, not even the script—
it was because a top-secret investor had personally ordered the production as a condition to save the company.
“This exhausting pre-production period is finally coming to an end. That investor is unbelievably meticulous. I heard they even check every single location themselves. But seriously, who could it be? There’s never been a secret this tightly kept, right?”
At Shinyoung’s question, Jeongha added with curiosity,
“I heard the investor is an individual. Maybe it’s someone who has a reason to live in hiding?”
“But there’s a rumor they’re one of the co-CEOs of BIG T Investment. Always staying behind the scenes, never revealing themselves—but the real power behind everything. That ‘T.’”
A nearby employee, unable to hold back, chimed in,
“I always thought that ‘T’ referred to CEO Yoo Juntek.”
“Everyone thought that. But apparently not. There’s a ‘small T’ and a ‘big T,’ and Yoo Juntek is the small T.”
“Oh, that actually makes sense. There are even rumors that the big T is M16, or the hidden son of a chaebol. But Yoo Juntek doesn’t fit either of those at all.”
“That’s not a secret anymore as of today.”
The head of accounting, who had been listening in, rolled his chair over with a squeak.
“Why? I thought it’d stay a secret until post-production was over.”
“The investor just went into the meeting room.”
“They came without any notice? That’s insane!”
“Shh. Don’t look.”
He quickly pressed a finger to his chapped lips, silencing them. The three immediately straightened their faces, even though they had been about to turn toward the meeting room.
“But they passed by so fast I couldn’t even see their face properly. Wow… the aura was no joke. I only glanced briefly because it felt dangerous to stare, but the atmosphere was absolutely insane.”
The head of accounting nodded vigorously, giving two thumbs up.
“They must have a lover, right?”
“Who knows? But why are you drooling?”
“I’m telling you, it felt like they were drenched in pheromones or something. My heart was pounding like crazy. I almost started hyperventilating. I nearly got divorced today.”
The three stared at him in disbelief—then burst out laughing.
“But why are they here today? What’s the occasion?”
“Stop laughing. This could backfire on us. The manager’s face earlier looked like ash. If that secretive investor showed up without notice, something big must’ve happened. Scatter, scatter.”
As the blinds covering the meeting room lifted and then dropped again, the head of accounting rolled his chair back to his desk.
The largest shareholder who had saved the failing Sol Studio.
Except for a very select few, the investor’s identity was kept strictly confidential.
It was said to prevent excessive attention from shifting to the investor instead of the film itself.
They could only assume—this must be someone with immense influence.
“By the way, that bracelet is so pretty. Where did you get it?”
Shinyoung traced the tiny key-shaped charm on Jeongha’s bracelet with her finger.
“Oh, this?”
Though simple in white gold, the small, uniquely shaped key at the end stood out.
“It was a gift.”
“From who? Your boyfriend?”
Jeongha only smiled awkwardly instead of answering, when her phone rang.
“Excuse me for a moment.”
“Oh my, is it him?”
“No, it’s my aunt.”
She pressed the call button and stepped out into the lounge.
“Aunt?”
—We just left. It’ll take some time, so don’t come out early and wait nervously. Come out a bit later.
“I was planning to do that anyway. Oh, how’s Yuna?”
—She’s so excited, chatting nonstop. She’s thrilled to eat something delicious for once. I should buy her steak more often.
“But it’s Haein’s birthday. Shouldn’t we eat what Haein likes? We can treat Yuna later.”
—Oh please, is Yuna your niece? She’s your daughter.
Right.
Jeongha’s eyes curved into crescents as she smiled brightly.
“Oh, and Aunt—I bought the bouquet.”
—You’re raising a child and still spending money? I told you to save.
“Aunt, Yuna might hear you.”
—Oh, right, right. My mistake. I’m getting old. Let’s hang up.
Jeongha set her phone down and started the coffee machine.
—
The line of cars stretched endlessly—
a chain of ordinary, peaceful scenery.
Just as Jeongha placed her empty coffee cup beside the bouquet—
“Jeongha!”
The lounge door burst open, and Art Director Gong Jiseon rushed in, panting. The door she let go of swung violently back and forth.
“Unni?”
Jeongha stepped down from the stool, looking puzzled. Jiseon was usually calm no matter what.
“Come with me for a second. The art director is calling you.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
As Jeongha tried to recall if she had made any mistakes, Jiseon suddenly stopped and grabbed her arm.
“Do you know who the investor for this film is?”
“The investor? No. It’s confidential.”
“Right, it was… but something’s really strange.”
Jiseon pressed her forehead hard, then let out a deep sigh before speaking.
“They’re telling us to fire you.”
“…What?”
“The investor specifically singled you out and said you should be fired. The key staff meeting was suddenly canceled, so I asked why, and…”
Jeongha could only blink in shock.
“Director Kim is arguing with Director Moon right now. The investor said that if they keep you, they’ll replace the entire art team. They don’t care how long production takes. This is insane—just throwing money around.”
“…?”
“No one knows the reason. What kind of nonsense is this? Even if they’re funding the project, how can they do this? You’ve been involved in everything—from references to space meetings—without missing a single one.”
“Where is the investor? Did they leave? Could they have mistaken me for someone else?”
Her mind spun. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.
“No idea. They dropped a bomb and disappeared.”
Jiseon, still fuming, placed a hand on her hip.
“Let’s go. If this isn’t resolved, I’m reporting this to the labor office. Let them deal with it.”
She grabbed Jeongha’s wrist and pulled her toward the glass door.
As one dragged and the other was dragged along, they stepped into the hallway—just as the art team’s first assistant came running toward them, waving papers.
“I found out who the investor is! It’s—huff—!”
Just as they were about to speak—
At the end of the hallway, a tall man in a black coat appeared.
His movements were precise, without excess. Several people followed behind him like shadows.
Like a predator surveying its territory—calm and unhurried, yet impossible to read.
The man seemed to notice Jeongha’s group, paused briefly, then picked up his pace, closing the distance.
An overwhelming pressure filled the air. Jeongha tightened her grip on her bag strap.
With each step he took, a strange tension spread through her veins.
No way.
As his features became clearer, her entire body froze.
No way…
It can’t be.
That’s impossible.
It shouldn’t be…
“It’s Kang Taeyoon! BIG T, BIG T! The hidden co-CEO—it’s Kang Taeyoon!”
Kang Taeyoon.
A world-renowned film investor and producer.
A man with almost supernatural instincts—who once invested 100 million won of his own money based solely on a script, turning it into a global hit that earned 380 billion won through word of mouth.
Scouted by a major American film studio, he went on to hit consecutive box office jackpots and rose to become the largest shareholder of COZ, the number one entertainment company in Korea.
And that Kang Taeyoon… was the head of BIG T.
Even while working in the film industry, she had tried so hard to avoid crossing paths with Kang Taeyoon at all costs.
“And you… are Seo Jongjin’s daughter.”
“….”
“Do you sleep? Do you eat properly?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t sleep well. Don’t live well either.”
“….”
“And don’t stand out. Unless you want to die.”
The ground beneath her feet felt like it was turning into a swamp. Cold, sticky mud coiled around her legs.
Jeongha tried to steady herself, but her knees kept buckling.
For the past eight years, the emotions she had suppressed and buried just to survive surged back all at once, spiraling violently.
Her mind went blank. The ground seemed to rise beneath her.
Her heart pounded wildly—
And the polished black shoes that had approached right up to her… passed by.
Could it be…
He doesn’t remember me?
Did he really forget everything?
Just as that thought crossed her mind—
His footsteps stopped.
“This company…”
His low, dry voice shattered the cold silence.
“…collects trash.”
