Chapter 17….
After Lee Jongmook made his decision, the meeting progressed smoothly. I was so nervous that I found myself fiddling with my index finger under the table for no reason. It was uncomfortable to see the expressions on people’s faces that clearly read, “Who is this guy? What’s his relationship with the CEO?”
Still… how exactly does this ring work?
Ever since I received the onion from that eccentric old man, I hadn’t understood a single thing it had done. But among them, this ring was by far the most baffling.
Can’t it show my own future? Yoo Hyun-jae’s future, please. Or Yoo Hyun-seo’s future. If not, then President Kim Seok-gu’s future at least?
I muttered silently in my head, but the ring gave no reaction.
Then what about Dabin’s future?
At that, the ring bloomed with a blue flower once again. The vision that flowed into my mind was the same as before… no, slightly different.
—“When you suddenly brought up the mini-album, everyone else might have found it absurd, but I was touched. Realizing that you genuinely liked all five songs… that meant a lot. I put my heart and soul into writing them, every single one. Do you know why I worked so hard back then?”
Why? You’ve always lived like that. Giving everything your all, no matter what.
So, the ring only showed the futures of Im Yuju and Im Dabin. A pink flower meant Yuju’s future, and a blue flower meant Dabin’s. But what was the criteria? Could it be only people with the surname Im? No, that couldn’t be it—after all, Im Yuju’s real name was Seo Rael. Since this onion was a divine relic, it probably didn’t work based on something as trivial as surnames.
“Then, shall we wrap things up? Hyun-jae, please stay behind to chat with me for a bit. Everyone else, you may leave. Sorry, but NovaGirls, could you wait in the lounge?”
What? Me?
The meeting attendees looked puzzled, glancing between me and the CEO before filing out.
“Hyun-jae, I’ve been thinking.”
“Yes? Yes, sir.”
“No matter how I look at it, it doesn’t make sense to leave you in your current position. Do you know how much profit you’ve brought our company just this month? Actually, not even a month—it’s only been three weeks since you joined the management department. You’ve achieved this much in just three weeks.”
“That just sort of hap—”
“I’m sure you’re aware of your own abilities. Yet you don’t want to be a team leader… no matter how big a bonus we offer. It’s obvious why, isn’t it? You only want to manage and nurture the talents you personally approve of. But being a team leader would force you to oversee people who don’t meet your standards, and that’s what you dislike, right? Am I wrong?”
“No, I just don’t think I’m capable—”
“I can tell at a glance. You’re the same kind of person as me. You only work with people on your level. So here’s what we’ll do—you’ll take the position of Part Leader!”
“…Sorry, what?”
After talking with him for the past few days, I’d realized something: once Lee Jongmook was convinced about something, he stopped listening to anyone else.
But… Part Leader? That role only existed in Management Team 1.
At JM Entertainment, managers were generally divided into three ranks: regular manager, team leader, and department head. The term road manager was just a nickname for newcomers who mainly drove cars, not an official title. Tasks were divided based on years of experience.
Only Management Team 1 had a “Part Leader” position. Since they handled the most work, it was impossible for the team leader to manage all the decisions alone. So they delegated key decision-making for certain talents to Part Leaders—a kind of mini team leader.
“But all the current Part Leaders have at least eight years of experience, or equivalent careers—”
“You already have equivalent achievements! I’ll make sure you can handle whichever talent you want. Go wild, Hyun-jae! You’ve got a dinosaur inside you—I can see it! A Tyrannosaurus Rex, roaring in your heart!!”
“……”
No. Absolutely not. There’s no T-rex in me. If anything, Sora once told me I was like a capybara—docile, with zero fighting spirit.
If I stayed quiet, he’d lock me into this Part Leader role. No way. It was suffocating just to think about. Inside me was no T-rex—only a capybara.
“Um… CEO?”
But he was already too hyped to hear me.
“Your salary will go way up, your bonus structure will change, and you’ll get RSUs too—those will be sellable after three years. And stock options… no, that’s not the point. Do you have any candidates in mind? What about our Hallyu star, Jeon Gwang-hwi? He’s returning next month, and we haven’t assigned him to any team yet.”
“No, no, I really don’t—”
The onion gave off a foul odor. Was it telling me not to take the Part Leader role? Or not to take on Jeon Gwang-hwi? Thinking about it, it seemed to be the latter, since it hadn’t reacted earlier when Part Leader was mentioned.
“Our talent pool isn’t limited to in-house stars. We can scout new people based on your input. Let’s see… there’s boy group Extreme Kids, actress Lee Joo-ah, and…”
“Huh.”
I let out a sound unconsciously—the onion ring on my finger had stung. Jongmook’s eyes widened.
“Actress Lee Joo-ah? As expected… your eye for talent is exceptional. Striking beauty, overwhelming acting skills… Though her career’s stumbled recently due to issues with her agency, she’s still a top star. But…”
He paused thoughtfully.
“This part’s uncertain. Practically every agency will be after her. And she’s too proud to sign just for money. But if you’ve picked her…”
Without waiting for my response, he grabbed his phone.
“Chief Kim? About contacting Lee Joo-ah—push harder, even if we have to sweeten the terms. What? What did you just say?”
His jaw literally dropped. His face went pale, then returned to normal.
“T-that’s real? No way… Alright, proceed and report back.”
He hung up and stared at me, his gaze shaken.
“Hyun-jae, you’re terrifying. This is unbelievable.”
“…Excuse me?”
“Lee Joo-ah says she wants to sign with us. She contacted us just before this meeting started. Before we even reached out. And guess what her one condition was?”
“…What is it?”
“She wants you to be her manager.”
I was speechless.
“Hah… I don’t know how much of this you’ve orchestrated. Did you even foresee me offering you Part Leader?”
“No. Absolutely not.”
It felt like I was on some hidden camera prank show.
But the onion bracelet was giving off a pleasant fragrance—as if congratulating me. Jongmook wiped his forehead with a handkerchief and said:
“I never dreamed you’d know Lee Joo-ah personally.”
“I… don’t know what you mean. Honestly. How would I ever have a connection to a top star like her?”
“Then how do you explain this?”
He thrust his phone at me.
It was a Stargram post.
GOD_Sora:
People only ever see the surface. They don’t know a thing about our seven years together, yet they talk as they please. Seven years is a long time. There were times when even eating tteokbokki together made me happy. When we’d buy clothes at subway shops on the brink of closing down and laugh together. But no one cares about how things slowly twisted and fell apart. I…
It was accompanied by a melancholic selfie. The problem lay in the comments.
Lee Joo-ah: What a load of crap. You used to whine about how poor Hyun-jae was, that you had to settle for tteokbokki. I saw you badmouthing him behind his back. Slowly fell apart? Please. I caught you holding hands with Kim ○-min at Hangang Park while you were dating Hyun-jae. I even took photos. And didn’t you go eat steak with Hong ○-jin?
Lee Joo-ah: “Filled each other up”? Don’t make me laugh. Hyun-jae was pouring water into a bottomless pot. Stop with the media play and try reflecting for once.
GOD_Sora: What are you talking about? Are you really actress Lee Joo-ah? How would you know anything about us? Stop spreading lies!
Lee Joo-ah: Lies? lol You don’t know who I am? Fine. I’ll DM you right now. Don’t you dare delete this post.
GOD_Sora: You have my number? Go ahead and try.
GOD_Sora: …I’m sorry. Everything I wrote was true. I only posted it to garner sympathy. This is all my fault.
Commenter: Wait… so actress Lee Joo-ah really knows Hyun-jae?
Commenter: Lee Joo-ah, were you our schoolmate?
Commenter: Sora, I told you to stay quiet…
Apparently, about an hour had passed between Lee Joo-ah saying she’d DM and Sora publicly apologizing. What the heck had happened in that time?
I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Actress Lee Joo-ah was practically a household name. Goddess-like visuals, charismatic acting…
“Well then, Hyun-jae, I’ll announce your promotion to Part Leader immediately. Looking forward to working with you.”
“…Yes.”
I was dumbfounded.
Who exactly is she?
That evening, all of Korea was thrown into chaos.
[The Dark Side of a Master: Director Park Woo-sik exposed for 20 years of sexual assault]
[Actress Na Yoo-mi confesses: “He threatened me since I was a rookie.”]
[Film Fragments investors in turmoil—debt collection crisis looming]
—“Park’s crimes were systematic and deliberate. We’ll hear from an expert—Professor Yoon Hee-chul, psychiatrist at Bucheon Sunbaekhyang University.”
—“It’s tragic. From Na Yoo-mi’s interview and other testimonies, a pattern emerges: they were all told by Park Woo-sik, ‘You’re not good enough,’ and then received his so-called ‘coaching.’”
—“This is emotional abuse at the highest level. The message is, ‘You’re lacking. Yet I, a great master, am gracious enough to use you. I’m kind and generous. Would you dare reject me?’ It’s prolonged psychological coercion. A form of gaslighting.”
“Wow… that’s terrifying. Didn’t we mention working with Park Woo-sik on a project? Dodged a bullet there.”
“Wait, remember when he said, ‘Im Yuju’s acting is good, but you can tell she’s mainly a singer. With a little guidance from me, she’d be so much better’? He was targeting her, wasn’t he?”
“Yikes…”
Team 3 leader Cho Min-su quietly listened, then spoke.
“You guys really never suspected Park Woo-sik?”
Everyone responded as if it was obvious.
“Of course not! He’s even in textbooks. We all thought he was an amazing, kind man.”
“He donated a ton too. Even did coal-briquette deliveries on weekends.”
Min-su paused before saying:
“Right. But imagine someone who could see through him from the start. Wouldn’t they be amazing at managing talents too?”
The room went silent. Then one manager asked:
“Wait… is that rumor true? That our side tipped off the press about his crimes?”
“Wasn’t it the CEO? He always sees through everything.”
Min-su shook his head.
“No. It was Hyun-jae. He figured it all out.”
“What?”
The others stared, unsure if he was joking. He repeated firmly:
“Hyun-jae saw through Park Woo-sik. Who he lured, where he committed crimes, everything. Not the CEO.”
Everyone was stunned. Then, slowly, a strange sense of acceptance spread.
Really? Wasn’t he just some AMD guy? He didn’t seem like it… but maybe…
“Then NovaGirls, Im Yuju, Lee Joo-ah too…”
“Chills. Is he like the secret son of some crime boss?”
“If he can even know the president’s schedule, he’s on another level. Russian mafia? American?”
Secret son of a mob boss? That’s ridiculous.
Still, Min-su thought: If Hyun-jae was promoted to Part Leader this quickly, people would buy it.
That guy’s the real deal.
Unlike the average slackers who only cared about their paycheck, Hyun-jae was different. Special. If coworkers started resenting or envying him, it’d only cause problems. Better to give him as many talents as possible.
When he heard the CEO had promoted Hyun-jae after only three weeks, Min-su felt no resistance at all. Of course—the CEO knew. Ever since Hyun-jae had brought in President Kim Seok-gu, it was obvious. Being with him meant guaranteed success.
“Still… mafia screams Italian, right?”
“Do you think he speaks Italian?”
The team members muttered strange theories, but… well, it didn’t matter.
This is insane.
Today was the day of my promotion. My heart was pounding like crazy.
Even in a merit-driven company, people still cared about seniority. If someone who joined just three months later got promoted first, there’d be uproar. And me? I was already an outsider.
I felt like everyone would glare at me. And to top it off, I had a meeting with Lee Joo-ah today. My chest was heavy as I opened the office door. But then…
“Good morning, Part Leader Yoo Hyun-jae.”
“Oh, Part Leader, you’re here?”
I was embarrassed. Everyone was calling me “Part Leader” so casually.
And something was off. Their eyes weren’t hostile—they seemed… welcoming. Deputy Manager Yoo Ji-woo, holding a coffee, smiled at me.
“Le piacciono i sigari?”
“…What?”
“Oh, not Italian? Then maybe Mexican? In Spanish, it would be…”
Meanwhile, Kim Seung-mok, who was organizing files, spoke up.
“Part Leader, my parents are dealing with a land ownership dispute… could I ask you about it later, if you have time?”
“I don’t think I’d be much help.”
“Right, of course. You’re busy. Sorry. Anyway, congrats on the promotion! Let’s grab a drink sometime to celebrate. My treat.”
“…Uh, sure.”
What on earth was going on?
Then my phone buzzed. A DalTalk message from Im Yuju.
—Oppa, I heard a strange rumor.
—Is it true you’re the leader of a mafia syndicate, born between an Italian mobster and the granddaughter of a Korean loan shark king?
I blinked at the screen, wondering if I’d read it wrong.
What the hell…?
