I. The Bait and the Frame
The war room was saturated with the smell of blue oil paint and existential dread. Kim Taehyung stood before the holographic map, no longer seeing financial assets, but a chessboard. He had three architects against him: the Tragic Poet (Seok-jin), the Mastermind (Madam Park), and the False Prophet (Joo Yeong-ho).
His counter-attack had to be psychological, striking at the core of their motivations—which was controlling the narrative of the 'Broken Vow' and proving their righteousness.
"Chief," Taehyung ordered his head of security, his voice sharp and cold. "I need you to leak information about a highly sensitive, unsanctioned art exhibition. The location: the abandoned gallery on the first floor of the Taewon Tower Annex. The theme: 'The Melancholy of Corporate Truth.'"
The Chief frowned. "Chairman, the Annex is supposed to be condemned. And an art exhibit? That's highly irregular."
"Irregular is the new standard," Taehyung retorted. "The artist must be completely anonymous, but the subject must be highly provocative—a direct commentary on the recent corporate tragedy." He glanced at Ha-eun, who was arguing with her action figure CEO about his quarterly performance.
"The objective is to draw out the Tragic Poet," Taehyung explained. "Seok-jin's ego won't allow him to let a rival (Eun-ji's implied tragic style) seize the narrative. He will come to destroy the art and expose the 'artist.' Madam Park and Yeong-ho will follow."
II. The Artist's Demands
Taehyung turned to Ha-eun, who was now carefully applying the Crimson Pledge streak onto the miniature CEO action figure's head.
"Eun-ji, we need you to finish the portrait of the elegant man, and you must paint five more large, deeply melancholy pieces by morning. This is an urgent assignment."
Ha-eun's eyes lit up with the focus of a true artist. "Finally, a proper brief! But my art demands a clear contract. My terms are as follows: Rule 3 of the co-habitation agreement (the forehead kissing ban) is suspended for the duration of the exhibition preparation."
"Absolutely not," Taehyung shot back. "That is non-negotiable operational security!"
"Then I will only paint happy cows," Ha-eun declared stubbornly, crossing her arms. "And I will write a poem about your tight tie knot and how it suppresses artistic expression."
Taehyung closed his eyes, his immense power reduced to arguing about saliva and silk. He desperately needed the bait.
"Fine," he conceded, the word tasting like defeat. "Temporary suspension. One kiss, only on the forehead, only when absolutely necessary for artistic inspiration. This must be logged and approved by the Chief of Security."
Ha-eun beamed, instantly throwing herself into her painting. "Excellent! Now, tell me more about the loneliness of the corner office! Does it smell of old ambition and regret?"
III. Setting the Scene
Over the next few hours, Taehyung worked in a bizarre parallel universe. On one screen, he was strategically flooding the financial markets with confusing data to mask the exhibition leak, preparing the trap's surveillance grid. Beside him, Ha-eun was creating powerful, distorted portraits of corporate fear and greed.
The finished portrait of Seok-jin (the 'Tragic Poet') was disturbing. The face was rendered in dark, fractured blues and blacks, the elegance intact but corrupted by profound sadness and an almost predatory hunger. The Crimson Pledge streak—the debt—was vividly visible across his chest.
As the sun began to rise, the security team confirmed the Annex was prepped. The 'art' was hung. The trap was ready.
Taehyung stood looking at the portrait of Seok-jin. The true tragedy was not the money or the power, but the two young souls—Seok-jin and Ha-eun—who had been twisted into monsters by the father's desperate promise.
He looked over at Ha-eun, who was now asleep on the couch amidst her paints, the little CEO action figure clutched to her chest. She was a perfect, innocent bait—a ghost brought back to life to face her assassins.
The Architect was ready to launch the first strike. The Exhibition of the Broken Vow was open.