I. The Return of the Founder
Following the successful neutralization of Dr. Sharma and the algorithms, a new, far more formidable challenge emerged: Chairman Emeritus Bae Hyun-soo, Ha-eun's grandfather and the founder of the original Taewon empire.
Bae Hyun-soo was a figure of legendary, stern traditionalism. He had been living in quiet retirement, deliberately detached from the corporate chaos, but the recent news of his granddaughter's "artistic" management style—the limericks, the blue paint, the high-profile art trading—had finally pulled him back into the light. He viewed the Dual Chairwoman not as a genius, but as an embarrassment and a threat to the family's legacy of cold, hard efficiency.
He demanded an immediate, exhaustive audit of Ha-eun's new Strategic Intangible Assets Division (S.I.A.D.) and the Lyrical Audit system.
"Kim Taehyung," the Chairman Emeritus's message read, formal and unforgiving. "You saved the company from rivals, but you appear to have handed it over to a jester. I will judge the health of this company based on the only metric that matters: unadulterated, predictable profit."
II. The Inspection
The inspection took place in the heart of the Taewon Tower. Bae Hyun-soo, sharp and unyielding, sat opposite his grandchildren. He had brought his own team of seasoned, traditional auditors, who looked utterly perplexed by the sight of the Dual Chairwoman in her paint-splattered silk, carrying a briefcase full of chalks.
"I have reviewed the reports, Ha-eun," the Chairman Emeritus said, his voice flat with disapproval. "Your Emotional Yield Score (EYS) metric is sentimental garbage. Your use of the corporate vault to store half a billion dollars in discarded canvas is financially irresponsible. You are managing a global enterprise like a kindergarten art project."
Ha-eun met his gaze with the combined firmness of the Chairwoman and the directness of the Poet.
"Grandfather," she countered. "You built this company on predictable profit. That is why it nearly collapsed under the first unpredictable threat. I am building it on unpredictable, yet unbreakable loyalty. The EYS measures the true human capital, which is the only asset that cannot be replicated by AI or stolen by rivals."
III. The Final Test
The Chairman Emeritus waved his hand, dismissing her artistic arguments. "Show me the proof. Show me one instance where your poetic justice generated a better return than traditional strategy."
Taehyung stepped in, ready to deploy data on the EFD's efficiency surge. But Ha-eun stopped him.
"I will show you the proof in the only language you understand," Ha-eun said. "The source of value."
She had arranged a silent demonstration. She had the auditors bring in three items:
A standard, unbranded Taewon-manufactured microchip (symbolizing the old, cold product).
A blank balance sheet (symbolizing predictable data).
A small, framed piece of her discarded art—a study of geometric shapes, painted in her "monotonous beige of efficiency" phase (symbolizing uninspired value).
"Item One is valuable," Ha-eun explained, pointing to the chip. "Item Two is necessary. Item Three is expendable value—the kind of art that Lee Ji-hoon was banking on. It's worth only what a collector is willing to pay for its predictable lack of feeling."
She then grabbed her brush, dipped it in a pot of Crimson paint, and painted a single, bold, chaotic stroke—the color of their Vow—across the pristine beige art piece.
"Now, Grandfather," she said. "The art piece is no longer expendable. It is imbued with intentional, integrated meaning. It is no longer just a beige study; it is a statement of courage. Its value has not only increased tenfold, but it is now impossible for any external analyst to predict or quantify. Its value is now based on human sincerity, not market fear."
IV. The Verdict
The Chairman Emeritus stared at the painting, then at his fiercely intelligent granddaughter. He saw the cold, strategic genius of the founder in her eyes, but tempered by an emotional depth he had never possessed.
He slowly nodded, conceding the point with a reluctant sigh. "You have learned the difference between a contract and an unbreakable vow, Ha-eun. You have created an asset that is unquantifiable, and therefore, unassailable."
He stood up, his judgment passed. "The audit is complete. Your system is sound, but its success is reliant entirely on the stability of your... absurdity. Do not lose the blue paint, Ha-eun. And Taehyung, do not lose the courage to let her paint."
The patriarch left, his legacy secure in the hands of the Dual Chairwoman. The era of cold efficiency was officially over.