The boardroom smelled of stale coffee and corporate ambition.
Yoo-jin and his team sat on one side of the long, polished table. On the other side sat Director Park, flanked by the heads of the marketing and finance departments. It wasn't a meeting; it was an inquisition.
Director Park leaned back in his leather chair, a smug, predatory smile already on his face. "Producer Han. Welcome. We're all very eager to hear about the… progress of your special little project."
The condescension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. This was his stage, and he was ready for the show.
"Of course, Director," Yoo-jin said, his voice a calm, steady counterpoint to the tension in the room. He nodded to his team. This was it. The performance had begun.
They started with Mina's project, just as planned. Eun-bi presented the concept for the solo album, using vague, aspirational language. "We're exploring themes of finding light in the darkness," she said, her voice sounding practiced and confident.
Yoo-jin saw Director Park exchange a knowing glance with the finance head. 'Exploring themes' was industry code for 'we have nothing concrete'.
Then, Yoo-jin played thirty seconds of the master track for 'Echo', Mina's OST song. The haunting, beautiful melody filled the room. It was undeniable proof of talent.
"The OST is on schedule and has been approved by Director Yoon Tae-min," Yoo-jin stated simply, letting the weight of that name hang in the air.
Director Park's smile faltered for a fraction of a second. He couldn't attack a project approved by a director of that caliber. But it only made him pivot his attack.
"Impressive," Park said, the word dripping with sarcasm. "A single song. And what of the actual album we are funding? What of our other artist? The one you insisted on keeping."
The spotlight swung to Hana. This was her cue.
Hana stood up. She was the picture of cool professionalism, radiating an aura of confidence that was utterly convincing. She didn't look like a sidelined artist; she looked like the main event.
"My debut album, titled 'Coronation', is currently in the final stages of production," she announced, her voice clear and strong.
Ji-ho, looking pale but determined, stepped up to the console. He played the first demo.
A blast of regal, orchestral synth filled the boardroom, followed by a heavy, trap-influenced beat. It was bold, arrogant, and incredibly catchy. It was a queen's anthem.
He then played a second track, a dark, sensual R&B song, and a third, a fierce, unapologetic diss track. Each was only a 60-second clip, but they were polished, commercially viable, and sounded expensive.
Yoo-jin watched the faces of the department heads. Their cynical expressions were replaced by looks of genuine surprise, and then by the greedy glint of executives smelling a hit.
Director Park was stunned into silence. He had expected to find a vanity project, a waste of company funds. Instead, he was being presented with what sounded like three potential hit singles. This wasn't part of his script.
"As you can see," Hana continued smoothly, "the album is an assertion of dominance in the market. We are targeting a Q4 release to compete directly with the holiday comeback season."
She had them. The finance head was already scribbling notes. The marketing head looked practically giddy.
Yoo-jin saw his opening. It was time to spring the trap.
"Director Park," Yoo-jin said, his tone respectful. "As you can hear, the progress on Hana's album has been… unexpectedly rapid. Frankly, it's consuming a significant portion of my team's resources. More than we anticipated."
He looked Director Park right in the eye. "I was wrong to insist on keeping her. This project is too ambitious. It's pulling focus from our main priority, Mina. I recommend we scale back Hana's album. Perhaps release a digital single instead."
The room went silent.
The department heads stared at Yoo-jin as if he had grown a second head. He was actively trying to sabotage what sounded like their next cash cow.
Director Park stared at him, his mind clearly reeling. This was the weakness he had been looking for, but it was coming from Yoo-jin himself. It was a confession. An admission of mismanagement.
A slow, triumphant smile spread across Park's face. He had him.
"Scale it back?" Park said, his voice dripping with faux concern. "Producer Han, are you telling me you can't handle the workload? That you've overcommitted and now want to scrap a project that, frankly, sounds far more commercially promising than a single, moody ballad?"
He had taken the bait perfectly.
"My primary duty is to Choi Mina," Yoo-jin said, playing the part of the beleaguered, loyal producer. "Hana's album is a distraction."
"Nonsense!" the marketing head interjected, unable to contain himself. "A distraction? With the right promotion, this 'Coronation' concept could be huge! It's a direct challenge to Titan Entertainment's Aurora!"
Director Park held up a hand, silencing him. He looked at Yoo-jin, his eyes gleaming with victory. He thought he was about to deliver the killing blow, to expose Yoo-jin's incompetence and seize control.
"I see," Park said silkily. "It seems my faith in your... management skills was misplaced. But I will not allow your poor planning to cost this company a potential hit."
He stood up, puffing out his chest. "Therefore, I am making an executive decision. The Special Projects Team will proceed with both albums at full capacity. And to ensure there are no more... distractions... I will be personally overseeing the budget and marketing for Lee Hana's album."
He had just done exactly what Yoo-jin wanted. He had taken personal ownership of Hana's project. When it became a massive success, the credit would be his. And when he was busy focusing on his new pet project, Yoo-jin would be free to work on Mina's debut in the shadows, without interference.
The misdirection was complete.
"As you wish, Director," Yoo-jin said, lowering his head in a perfect imitation of defeat.
The meeting was over. Director Park had won. He had asserted his dominance and taken control of the team's most promising commercial asset. He walked out of the boardroom with a swagger in his step, already planning his victory speech to the board of directors.
As the door closed, the tense silence in the room was broken by a low chuckle from Kang Min-hyuk.
"I'll be damned," the veteran engineer muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. "You magnificent bastard. You actually did it. You played him like a fiddle."
The rest of the team slowly broke into relieved smiles. The lie had worked. The pressure was off.
But Yoo-jin didn't feel relieved. He felt hollow. He looked at Hana, who was gathering her presentation materials, her expression unreadable. Their secret alliance had survived its first test.
His phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number. He expected it to be Hana, or even Director Ahn.
It wasn't.
The message was a single, grainy photograph. It was a picture of him, standing on the rooftop of Starforce Entertainment, talking to Director Ahn. It was taken from a nearby building, clearly with a powerful zoom lens.
Yoo-jin's blood went cold. Someone had been watching him.
Below the picture was a single line of text.
I know you're working for TK Group. But who are you really working for, Han Yoo-jin? Let's talk.
And beneath that, a name that made his stomach drop through the floor. A name he hadn't seen since the day Mina was humiliated on stage, the day this all began.
SS-Rank Producer. 'Ghost'.