Han Yoo-jin stared at the nameplate on Director Kang Min-hyuk's door, his breath held captive in his chest. The system interface that materialized in his vision was different from the others. It glowed with a more potent, almost malevolent light, the text sharper, as if etched in glass.
[Name: Kang Min-hyuk]
[Affiliation: Stellar Entertainment, Head of A&R]
[Overall Potential: A (Confined to Corporate Politics)]
[Key Strengths: Ruthless Negotiation, Power Brokering, Exploiting Weaknesses]
[Critical Weaknesses: Contempt for True Artistry, Underestimates Subordinates, Blinded by Greed]
[Scandal Factor: 82%]
The number was staggeringly high, a testament to a career built on shadows and sharp edges. Yoo-jin willed the details to appear, and the system obliged.
[Details: Consistent acceptance of kickbacks from third-party production companies and equipment vendors. History of covering up a past inappropriate relationship with a former trainee (Statute of limitations legally expired, but reputational damage remains high).]
A chill, colder than any conference room, snaked down Yoo-jin's spine. It was all there. The corruption he'd suspected, the rot at the core of the department, laid bare in undeniable text. The sense of powerlessness that had been choking him for hours began to curdle, transforming into something else entirely—a cold, precise, and dangerous anger.
The next morning, the office was electric. Director Kang, radiating smug triumph, called an emergency meeting. He stood at the head of the conference table, the same one where he had butchered Lee Seo-yeon's dream less than twenty-four hours ago.
"Listen up, everyone," he announced, a rare, magnanimous smile on his face. "As of this afternoon, Stellar Entertainment will be welcoming a new flagship asset to our acting division. We are in the final stages of signing an exclusive contract with none other than Lee Hyun-jae."
An audible gasp went through the room, followed by a wave of impressed murmurs. Lee Hyun-jae wasn't just an actor; he was a national treasure. For over a decade, he had cultivated an immaculate public image—the handsome, kind, and charitable gentleman of the Korean film industry. His dramas were ratings gold, his movies broke box office records. Securing him was more than a win; it was a statement of dominance.
"This will be a massive boost for our company's profile and stock price," Kang continued, soaking in the admiration. "I will be meeting with him and his legal team this afternoon at the Imperial Palace Hotel to finalize the signing. This is a new chapter for Stellar."
Just then, as if on cue, the man of the hour himself was escorted through the department for a pre-signing tour. Lee Hyun-jae was even more striking in person. He was tall, dressed in a stylishly casual blazer, and wore a smile that could melt glaciers. He bowed politely to the staff, his eyes crinkling kindly, every inch the perfect star.
The staff swooned. Choi Jin-wook practically fell over himself to offer a deep bow. As the actor passed Yoo-jin's desk, offering a polite nod, Yoo-jin's vision exploded in a flurry of crimson-red light. The system panel that appeared next to Lee Hyun-jae's head was flashing violently, like a critical error message.
[Name: Lee Hyun-jae]
[Affiliation: J-Media (Contract Expiring)]
[Overall Potential: S]
[Key Strengths: Public Image Crafting, Emotional Acting, High Fan Loyalty]
[Critical Weaknesses: Volatile Temper (Hidden), Addictive Personality]
[Scandal Factor: 97% - IMMINENT CATASTROPHE]
Yoo-jin's heart seized. Ninety-seven percent? It wasn't a risk; it was a certainty. It was a bomb that had already been armed and was seconds from detonation. He focused desperately on the flashing warning.
[Details: Holds massive, undisclosed gambling debts owed to illegal private lenders. Has a documented history of verbal abuse and threats of violence against former staff. Lenders are preparing to leak evidence (CCTV footage of illegal gambling dens, threatening text messages) to the media if not paid in full within 48 hours. The subsequent scandal will trigger morality clauses in all major endorsement deals, resulting in catastrophic, multi-billion won financial penalties for his managing agency.]
A wave of nausea washed over Yoo-jin. This wasn't just a scandal. This was a company-killer. Director Kang, blinded by the sheer star power and prestige, had clearly neglected to do a deep dive, or had willingly ignored whispers for the sake of the big prize. When this bomb went off, the fallout would be apocalyptic, and Kang would need a scapegoat for the "due diligence oversight."
And who better than the manager he had just publicly humiliated and discredited? It would be so easy. "Manager Han was responsible for the initial background check, but his recent performance has been subpar…" He could already hear the words.
He shot to his feet. "Director Kang!"
The entire room went silent. All eyes turned to him. Director Kang turned slowly, his triumphant smile tightening into a mask of annoyance. "What is it, Manager Han? Can't you see I'm busy?"
"Sir, with all due respect," Yoo-jin said, his voice ringing with an urgency that bordered on panic. "Regarding the Lee Hyun-jae contract… I strongly advise we postpone the signing. There are some… unsettling rumors. We need to conduct a more thorough background investigation before we commit."
Director Kang's face darkened. He walked slowly toward Yoo-jin's desk, his steps menacingly quiet. "Rumors?" he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Or is this your pathetic attempt to sabotage a major company success because you're still sulking about your failed trainee? I have Stellar's top legal team, a team that costs more per hour than you make in a year, vetting this deal. Do you honestly believe your 'rumors' hold more weight than their professional assessment?"
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper for only Yoo-jin to hear. "Sit down. Do your job. And do not ever interfere with my work again."
Yoo-jin sank back into his chair, his face burning with a public humiliation so absolute it felt like a physical blow. The decision was made. The ink would dry. The bomb would detonate. And he would be buried in the crater.
That night, in his small, cramped apartment, Yoo-jin paced like a caged tiger. The quiet hum of his refrigerator was the only sound. He couldn't let it happen. His loyalty to Stellar Entertainment had been incinerated in that moment of humiliation. This was no longer about saving the company. It was about saving himself. It was about taking the weapon that had been mysteriously placed in his hands and finally, finally firing back.
He stopped pacing. His eyes fell on a dusty box in his closet. Inside was a cheap, untraceable burner phone he'd bought years ago on a whim and never used. A tool for desperate people. He was now a desperate person.
He pulled it out, the cheap plastic cool in his trembling hand. He flipped through the contacts on his personal phone until he found the number he was looking for: Kim Do-shik, a young, hungry reporter at a minor online news outlet known for its aggressive, scandal-breaking stories. Yoo-jin had fed him a few harmless, verifiable tips in the past, building a sliver of trust.
He punched the number into the burner phone and pressed call, his heart pounding against his ribs. It rang twice.
"Hello? Who is this?" The reporter's voice was sharp, impatient.
Yoo-jin held the phone awkwardly, lowering his voice to a rough, disguised whisper. "I have a tip for you. About the actor Lee Hyun-jae."
There was a pause, then the sound of typing. "I'm listening."
"Don't waste your time on his public life. That's a fortress," Yoo-jin said, the words feeling foreign and powerful on his tongue. "Look into his private finances. Ask around the high-stakes private lenders in Apgujeong. Specifically, ask about a man they call 'The Serpent.' And if you really want the story… get your hands on the security logs from a VIP baccarat room at the Grand Elysia casino in Macau. From last month."
He hung up before Kim Do-shik could ask another question, snapping the burner phone shut. He tossed it onto his bed, his whole body shaking with adrenaline.
The next morning, the office air was thick with anticipation. Yoo-jin sat at his desk, nursing a cup of coffee, his stomach a tight knot of anxiety. He felt like a man who had lit the fuse on a stick of dynamite and was now just waiting for the explosion.
At precisely 10:30 a.m., Director Kang walked past his desk, dressed in a flawless, expensive suit, smelling faintly of cologne and victory. He was on his way to the signing ceremony. He gave Yoo-jin a final, contemptuous glance as he headed for the elevators.
Just as the elevator doors chimed, Kang's phone buzzed violently in his hand. A second later, Yoo-jin's phone buzzed. Then, in a cascading wave, every single phone in the entire office began to buzz and chime, a deafening chorus of breaking news alerts.
On every screen, the same headline, from Kim Do-shik's small, insignificant news outlet, glowed with devastating clarity.
[EXCLUSIVE] THE KING'S GAMBLE: A-LIST ACTOR LEE HYUN-JAE'S HIDDEN LIFE OF BILLION-WON DEBTS, GANGSTER TIES, AND VIOLENT THREATS EXPOSED.
The office, which had been simmering with celebratory excitement, erupted into sheer chaos. People were shouting, phones were ringing off the hook, and the legal team's door flew open.
Through the pandemonium, Yoo-jin's eyes found Director Kang. He was standing frozen in front of the elevator, staring down at his phone. The color had completely drained from his face, leaving behind a waxy, horrified mask of disbelief. His eyes, wide with pure panic, swept across the chaotic room, frantically searching for an explanation, an answer, a target.
And then they locked onto Han Yoo-jin.
Yoo-jin met his superior's gaze without flinching. His own expression was a carefully constructed mask of blank, mild surprise. But inside, behind the mask, a single thought solidified, sharp and clear as the system interface itself, a declaration that echoed in the silent chambers of his mind.
It worked. It's real. And my life will never be the same again.