When the afternoon session began, only the new recruits and HR staff had returned to the auditorium.
The executives who had filled the space earlier were gone, leaving the room feeling strangely hollow.
Unlike the morning, round tables had been arranged, and each pair of partners sat together.
The session was led by Gu Min-kyung, a senior manager from Samho Entertainment's Strategic Planning Department.
She had spent over twenty years in the entertainment industry, with a dazzling portfolio spanning film, drama, and idol promotions.
Her skin was tanned with a reddish undertone.
Thick, long eyeliner and orange lipstick gave her an edge, yet the navy suit and crisp white blouse beneath made her look both sophisticated and professional.
Gu Min-kyung's thin lips curved faintly as her eyes scanned each new hire, committing their faces to memory.
Then, as if something amusing crossed her mind, she let out a soft chuckle.
The HR department had asked her to give a two-hour session to the newcomers.
Two hours? What on earth was she supposed to talk about for two hours?
Maybe she should tell them about quitting—the realities of corporate life.
Her expression turned mischievous.
"Today," she began, "I'm going to give you a realistic talk."
All eyes immediately locked onto her.
"Statistically, about thirty percent of new hires quit within a year. Even with solid academics and plenty of extracurricular experience, many find it difficult to adjust to corporate life. Why do you think that is?"
A confident voice rang out—it was Jang Seohee, bold as ever.
"Because they lack problem-solving skills!"
Gu approached her table, nodding as she looked Seohee in the eye.
"A bit broad, but yes. Anyone else?"
Beside Seohee, Lee Chansoo added, not to be outdone.
"Because of conflicts in human relationships."
"That's also true. Are you two a team?"
When the two sitting together both answered in turn, Seohee grinned brightly.
Samho Entertainment was one of the most popular divisions for applicants, and these two were surely among the top recruits.
"Yes, we are."
Gu nodded approvingly.
After that, no one else spoke up.
"Good. Every answer is valid," she continued.
"Because everyone's reason for quitting is different.
But if you ask me, the biggest reason is this—your job doesn't fit your aptitude."
A ripple of laughter passed through the room.
"Aptitude—funny word, isn't it? Sounds like something you'd talk about when choosing a college major."
But Gu's face had turned deadly serious.
"When your work doesn't suit you, the weight of it becomes unbearable. You spend ten hours a day in the office, sometimes eighteen during closing or project seasons.
If the job doesn't fit, your efficiency drops, and life feels like torture.
You want to escape—but you can't. It's slavery, plain and simple."
At that word—slavery—Yoojin's shoulders tensed.
She had joined Samho Group precisely to escape that suffocating bond with Choi Hyun-oh and the Gangrim Group, to start a new life.
What kind of work really suits me?
But no answer came.
In her previous life, she'd danced until her body broke.
In this one, she'd studied until her muscles cramped.
Now, looking at the small yet formidable Gu Min-kyung, Yoojin felt as though the woman's career was a giant's cloak draped across her shoulders.
Could I really do this—ten, twenty years of corporate life like her?
Her pupils quivered.
She glanced sideways at Dongha, who sat rigid beside her, his eyes and lips frozen as he listened intently.
"When you're assigned to your department, you'll be given a senior mentor—a saseu, as we call them.
You think you'll bond, call them 'senpai' or 'sunbae,' right? Forget it.
Those seniors are drowning in their own workload.
If you can't pull your own weight and start whining about how this 'doesn't fit your aptitude,' guess what happens?"
Gu shook her head dramatically.
"That's a disaster. If you can't do it, just say you can't. They'll take the work off your hands.But if you half-ass it and complain at the same time? That's the real catastrophe."
The new hires' faces tightened.
So the message was clear—don't become a burden.
No one had expected this kind of brutal honesty in their first training session.
"Samho Group rewards competence and results.
But imagine if the same rewards were given to those who do nothing but whine about their 'aptitude.'
What would happen?"
She paused, letting silence do the work.
"That's why I'm here. If you just want a cushy spot to sit around collecting paychecks, go find one. But I'll warn you—those positions are already taken. By people who've been stagnant for years."
Instead of deflating, the room's energy surged.
Hearts began to race.
"So now it's time to decide. Will you start your internship ready for battle? Or quit because it's not a 'good fit'? That's your choice."
Faces across the thirty recruits shifted—tension, fear, determination.
Gu smiled.
"You all look so tense. Let me give you a tip on how to make hard work feel easier."
She spoke of mastering one's craft—how people with good work instincts could thrive anywhere.
Knowledge, she said, was the base of all adaptability.
As her lecture went on, Yoojin found herself leaning forward, eyes widening.
It felt as if she'd just received the answer she needed—how to survive this internship.
No matter where I'm assigned, if I study the job, learn fast, and apply myself, I'll make it.
Wherever she went, Han Yoojin could survive.
Gu went on to explain how to approach new information, how to shift perspective when solving problems.
Her two-hour lecture passed in a flash, ending with wild applause after stories of her hit PR campaigns and behind-the-scenes tales from the entertainment industry.
"I look forward to seeing how all of you grow in the next three months," she said with a confident smile before stepping down.
But as she left the stage, her eyes wandered back to the audience, searching for two faces she'd liked earlier—Jang Seohee and Lee Chansoo—only to stop cold.
Her gaze fixed on Yoojin, who was rising from her seat.
The delicate face, deep eyes beneath double eyelids, and soft lips—paired with a tall, graceful figure.
She looked more like a celebrity than any idol Gu had ever promoted.
What on earth is she doing here?
Shouldn't she be holding a script or rehearsing choreography instead of sitting in a corporate orientation?
This was pure talent gone to waste.
Seohee and Chansoo were forgotten.
Gu's mind snapped to one name—Jo Taejin.
He had to know about this diamond hiding among the recruits.
If he'd been at the morning session, he'd surely have spotted her—and yet he hadn't said a word.
Gu Min-kyung was a department head at Samho Entertainment, while Jo Taejin was a director at Spring Entertainment, a sub-label under it.
Technically, Jo outranked her in title, but in the company hierarchy, Spring was below Samho.
If Gu was the crocodile, Jo was the plover bird that cleaned its teeth—a symbiotic relationship.
She had missed the morning session because her latest romance-espionage film project had lost its lead cast, forcing her to scramble for recasting.
Now, pressing her temple, she sighed in frustration.
She must be around twenty-four. If we're going to debut her, we have to move fast.
Watching Yoojin chatting brightly with other recruits, Gu pulled out her phone and started walking briskly.
Thinking was a waste of time.
Action was what got results.
Her fingers flew over the screen, calling Director Jo Taejin.
During the short break, HR staff bustled around setting up each table with bundles of spaghetti noodles, marshmallows, and rolls of opaque tape.
The new hires stared at the items with uneasy curiosity.
No way… are we doing that exercise?
At precisely three o'clock, HR Manager Kim Junho bounded onto the stage, beaming as he grabbed the microphone.
Looking at the bright, eager faces before him, he felt a rush of pride.
The energy of this year's recruits was fresher, more vibrant than ever.
HR was often dismissed as just the department that handled attendance and payroll, but for Kim Junho, it was his pride.
Watching the employees he'd personally hired grow and thrive gave him a satisfaction beyond words.
And the annual new-hire orientation was his favorite part of the job.
His excitement came through loud and clear as his voice echoed through the auditorium.
"Now, it's time to test your creativity and problem-solving skills! Through this exercise, the top-performing recruits will earn the right to choose their preferred departments!"