The wind on the rooftop felt like a slap in the face.
Director Ahn's words echoed in the frigid air, a command disguised as a condition. Ensure that Choi Mina is the one who wins.
For a moment, Yoo-jin couldn't breathe. This was the game. This was the price of patronage from the gods of the industry. They didn't want a fair fight; they wanted a puppet show, and they had just handed him the strings.
"Why?" Yoo-jin's voice was a low growl. "Why Mina?"
Ahn offered a thin, mirthless smile. "Lee Hana is the Chairman's daughter. A victory for her would be seen as nepotism, a predictable outcome. But a victory for Choi Mina… a diamond in the rough, an SSS-Rank talent you discovered… that is a story. A story that demonstrates your value as an asset."
It was disgustingly logical. They weren't just backing an artist; they were crafting a legend for their new pet producer. For him.
He looked at Director Ahn, and for the first time, used his skill with deliberate, piercing intent. He needed to see past the corporate mask.
[Name: Ahn Tae-wook]
[Occupation: Chief Secretary, TK Group]
[Potential: A-Rank (Strategic Planning)]
[Current Emotional State: Impassive, Expectant]
[Hidden Motivation: Carrying out the Chairman's will without fail.]
[Underlying Emotion: Utterly neutral. This is merely a transaction.]
There was no malice in him. No secret agenda. He was just a weapon, aimed and ready to fire. That was somehow even more terrifying.
"And if I refuse?" Yoo-jin challenged, his voice tight. "If I let the best song win, regardless of who sings it?"
Ahn's expression didn't change, but the temperature on the rooftop seemed to drop another ten degrees. "Refusal would be… unwise. The Chairman's patronage is not the only thing on the table. Kwon Ji-ho's debt, his mother's medical care… these are delicate matters. A sponsor can protect such things. An opponent cannot."
The threat was delivered as smoothly as a weather report. It was absolute. Total.
Ji-ho's life was now a bargaining chip.
Yoo-jin's mind raced, searching for an escape route, a clever gambit, another way to turn the tables. But there was none. He was pinned. For the first time since awakening his power, he was completely and utterly trapped.
"I understand," Yoo-jin said, the words tasting like ash in his mouth.
Ahn nodded, satisfied. "I was certain you would. You have two weeks. Do not disappoint us."
He turned and walked towards the rooftop exit, his footsteps silent. Just before he disappeared into the stairwell, he paused. "Oh, and Producer Han? Your flashlight. You won't be needing it."
The door clicked shut, leaving Yoo-jin alone with the city lights and the crushing weight of his new reality. He was no longer the underdog fighting the system. He was now a part of it.
The next ten days were a special kind of hell.
Yoo-jin threw himself into the work, a man possessed. He had to rig the competition, but he had to do it in a way that no one, not even his own team, would ever suspect. His "Star-Maker's Gaze" was now a tool for sabotage.
He started with Team Hana.
He'd walk into their studio sessions, where Hana and Ji-ho were crafting a masterpiece. Their song was a dark, operatic pop track, full of complex synth layers and a soaring, powerful chorus. It was commercially brilliant. It was a guaranteed hit.
It was exactly what he had to destroy.
"It's good," he'd say, his face a perfect mask of constructive criticism. "But it's too… perfect. It sounds like something Aurora would release. Director Yoon will see it as derivative."
He would use his skill to find the tiniest flaws, the microscopic imperfections that Yoon Tae-min's S-Rank skill would latch onto.
[Visionary's Insight will detect a 3% harmonic dissonance in the bridge.]
[Recommendation: Simplify the chord progression.]
"Ji-ho, strip back the bridge," Yoo-jin would command. "Hana, your high note in the chorus feels strained. Pull it back, make it more controlled."
He was methodically sanding down the edges of their song, turning their sharp, brilliant weapon into something blunter, safer. More forgettable.
Hana fought him at every turn. "Controlled? The character is losing control! It needs to sound like a scream!"
"There's a difference between a powerful scream and a reckless one," Yoo-jin countered smoothly, the lie flowing easily. "Trust me. I know what he's looking for."
The worst part was seeing the readouts from his system.
[Name: Lee Hana]
[Emotion: Frustrated, Confused]
[Hidden Motivation: Desperately wants your approval.]
She trusted him. Despite all her pride and defiance, she trusted his judgment as a producer. And he was betraying that trust, note by painful note.
With Team Mina, he did the opposite.
Their song, tentatively titled 'Echo', was a fragile, heartbreaking ballad. It was beautiful, but it lacked a killer instinct. It was a B-side, not a title track. He had to turn it into a monster.
"Eun-bi, the melody is too gentle," he'd say, pointing to the sheet music. "The character isn't just sad, she's broken. I want to hear that break in the music. Add a dissonant chord here. Make it hurt."
[Visionary's Insight will respond strongly to unexpected melodic shifts.]
[Recommendation: Introduce a sudden key change before the final chorus.]
He pushed Mina harder than he ever had before. He made her sing the same line a hundred times, not until it was perfect, but until it was raw.
"No, again!" he'd shout from the control booth. "I don't believe you! You're singing the words, but you're not feeling them! Remember what you told the director? You know her fear. Show it to me!"
He watched her through the glass, his skill active.
[Name: Choi Mina]
[Emotion: Exhausted, Overwhelmed]
[Dormant Feeling: Affection (Confused)]
She was looking at him with wide, pleading eyes, wondering why the producer who had saved her was suddenly being so cruel. He was becoming the very thing he'd sworn to protect her from.
The guilt was a physical thing, a constant knot in his stomach. One night, he found her in the practice room long after everyone else had gone home, her face buried in her knees. Her shoulders were shaking.
He hesitated in the doorway. The producer in him knew he should leave her alone, let the pressure build. But the man in him, the one who saw her as a little sister he had to protect, couldn't do it.
He walked in and placed a can of warm coffee on the floor beside her. He didn't say anything, just sat down a few feet away, leaning against the cold mirror.
They sat in silence for a long time.
"Am I going to lose?" she finally whispered, her voice choked with tears. "Is Hana's song better?"
"The better song doesn't always win," Yoo-jin said, the truth of his words a bitter irony.
She looked up at him, her eyes red-rimmed. "Then what does? Producer-nim... why are you pushing me so hard? It feels like... like you're disappointed in me."
The vulnerability in her gaze was a knife in his chest. He wanted to tell her the truth. He wanted to tell her he was rigging the game for her, that he was being blackmailed, that he was just as trapped as she was.
But he couldn't. It would shatter her trust in herself, in her own talent. It would poison her victory.
"I'm not disappointed, Mina," he said, his voice softer than he intended. "I'm pushing you because I know what you're capable of. I see an SSS-Rank talent in you, and I won't let you settle for an A-Rank performance. I'm hard on you because I believe in you more than anyone else."
[Lie Detected.]
[...Partial Truth Detected.]
The system couldn't even make up its mind. He was a monster wearing the mask of a mentor.
Mina stared at him, searching his face. The confusion in her eyes slowly faded, replaced by a renewed, fragile flicker of determination. She believed him.
[Dormant Feeling: Affection (Strengthened)]
"Okay," she whispered, wiping her eyes. "Okay, Producer-nim. I'll work harder."
He had done it. He had manipulated her emotions, twisted her trust, all to serve his own desperate ends. He had won the battle.
And as he walked out of the practice room, leaving her alone once more, he had never felt more like he had lost the war.