Chapter 55
Early evening.
The neon signs along Teheran-ro in Gangnam began to light up.
Among them, the most extravagant entertainment bar stood out as a mid-sized sedan glided to a stop in front of it.
A sharp glimmer of anticipation flashed through the eyes of the waiting manager.
Swiftly, the manager opened the car’s back door and bowed deeply.
“Ptooey!”
A man in his forties, dressed in jeans and sneakers, stepped out of the car and immediately spat on the ground.
Choi Tae-seop.
Just hearing his name alone made people in the nightlife scene tense up with fear.
He was the second son of the founder of Melodia, the largest record company in Korea.
After spending his twenties and thirties notorious for debauchery, he now ran ‘Mella,’ a music management company.
Yet, he remained a major player in the nightlife industry.
On a good night, he could throw away tens of millions of won, but if things didn’t go his way, he would flip tables, destroy clubs, or drive businesses into ruin.
The bigger issue was that his expectations for hospitality were absurdly high.
Because of this, the manager didn’t even blink at the spit that had landed on his shoes—his only concern was ensuring Choi Tae-seop’s satisfaction.
“Where’s Director Yang?”
“He’s waiting inside.”
“And Park Sung-min?”
“Yes, he’s here too.”
“Shut down the club.”
“Yes, sir!”
The moment Choi Tae-seop stepped inside, the manager finally straightened his back and turned to the bouncer at the entrance.
“The club is closed for the night.”
“Yes, manager.”
Clatter!
The sound of the shutters rolling down echoed behind them as Choi Tae-seop entered the VIP room.
Inside, Yang Won-il and Park Sung-min, who had already arrived and were sipping whiskey with anxious expressions, immediately shot up from their seats.
Yang Won-il was two years senior to Moon Sung-il, a director at MBS in charge of the “Music Grand Prix” program.
Meanwhile, Park Sung-min was a CEO of an entertainment agency, nurturing idols with Choi Tae-seop’s investment.
Both men depended on the money that Choi Tae-seop casually threw around, so they couldn’t afford to ignore his mood.
Especially when he was furious enough to make heads roll like tonight.
“You should have called some girls and had fun while waiting.”
Without any formal greeting, Choi Tae-seop immediately took the seat of honor and raised his glass toward Director Yang Won-il.
“My throat’s dry from having to reroute my flight to get here.”
“I’ll pour you a drink.”
Yang Won-il carefully filled Choi Tae-seop’s glass.
“Why are you stopping? Keep pouring until I say so.”
“Ah, y-yes.”
A two-million-won bottle of whiskey steadily filled Choi Tae-seop’s glass to the brim.
Even as it neared overflowing, he gave no signal to stop.
Yang Won-il’s hand began trembling, and eventually, the whiskey spilled over, soaking Choi Tae-seop’s hand and the floor.
“I-I’m sorry.”
Yang Won-il, voice shrinking, immediately stopped pouring.
“Why are you so scared? It’s just a little spilled whiskey. It’s not like Kwak Cheol-woong blabbed or anyone found out I was behind this, right?”
“T-That will never happen.”
“Never, huh…”
Choi Tae-seop stood up and slowly poured his whiskey over Yang Won-il’s head.
“My father always used to say, ‘Never use the word never.’ And yet, every time he looked at me, he would spout it endlessly.”
Whiskey trickled down Yang Won-il’s face and soaked his clothes, yet he didn’t dare to protest.
“‘I will never let someone like you inherit Melodia.’ ‘You will never succeed.’”
Crash!
After smashing his empty whiskey glass against the wall, Choi Tae-seop turned to Park Sung-min.
“What was the name of the drama PD who caught Kwak Cheol-woong?”
“Kim Doyun.”
“Kim Doyun, huh… Since he messed with my business, I should return the favor.”
Park Sung-min quickly took out a handkerchief and wiped Choi Tae-seop’s wet hand.
Even though he was nearly ten years older, he displayed such exaggerated deference that it was almost pitiful.
“I’ll look into Kim Doyun.”
“Do that. And Director Yang, why are you shaking? Are you cold?”
“N-No, sir.”
“Then sing a song. Something lively.”
“Y-Yes!”
A band entered, and a microphone was shoved into Yang Won-il’s trembling hands.
“Run, run, run… run…”
He sang Choi Tae-seop’s favorite song, his teeth grinding with resentment.
The real irony was his hatred wasn’t even directed at Choi Tae-seop—
It was directed at Moon Sung-il and Kim Doyun.
‘I’ll make them pay for today’s humiliation.’
***
Back at the Studio.
“Kim PD, have you ever considered working for me? The way you slid across the stage **to dodge that falling ribbon like an action star was pretty impressive.”
After the live broadcast ended, Moon Sung-il, clearly in a fantastic mood, clapped Doyun on the shoulder.
“Honestly, I still break out in a cold sweat thinking about how I almost got caught on camera. No way I’m doing that again.”
Doyun took off his headset, running a hand through his flattened hair.
“What do you mean? Next week is the final live broadcast.”
“Excuse me?”
“I just assumed you’d be helping out again.”
Since when was that a given?
Just as Doyun was about to protest, Oh Youngguk chimed in with a complaint.
“Director Moon, are you planning to keep poaching my staff?”
“If he’s working with me, he’s my staff now. Once a drama PD, always a drama PD—is that how it works?”
“You’re being pretty shameless, Director Moon. Instead of asking for more help, shouldn’t you be thanking him for saving your broadcast today?”
“That’s exactly why I want to work with him more.”
Moon Sung-il wasn’t backing down.
And that clearly didn’t sit well with Oh Youngguk.
“How can you be greedy over a planning PD in the middle of a drama shoot? Absolutely not. Just know that.”
“Wow, Oh Youngguk actually wants someone for once? Even though he never looks at any of the countless people begging for a chance?”
“Says the guy who should be asking himself that. Am I more famous than Moon Sungil?”
Doyun watched as Oh Youngguk and Moon Sungil bickered over him, rubbing his chin.
‘No one seems to care about what I think, huh?’
Of course, both of them were legendary figures who would go down in history.
Oh Youngguk dominated dramas, while Moon Sungil led the music industry.
If these two men held onto their positions, then Korean dramas and K-pop would take over the global market even faster.
It was certainly a good feeling to be fought over by such giants, but he couldn’t shake a nagging unease.
‘I need to find out who’s backing Kwak Cheol-woong.’
The attempt to sabotage Moon Sungil’s live broadcast had failed this time, but next time, they might be even more meticulous.
They could stage an accident so massive that it couldn’t possibly be stopped.
There was definitely a faction trying to seize control of the music industry from Moon Sungil.
‘Who’s behind all of this?’
Names flashed through Doyun’s mind.
Was it Melodia, which kept churning out the same tired albums from washed-up artists?
Or was it one of the many agencies looking to invest little and turn their singers into ‘all-round entertainers’ for maximum profit?
Whoever it was, they were hell-bent on stopping Moon Sungil from reshaping the industry with fresh talent.
‘Just like in my past life.’
Doyun turned to Moon Sungil.
“Director, what do you plan to do with Assistant Director Kwak?”
Moon Sungil rubbed his forehead, looking troubled.
“The network won’t want this getting out. I also don’t want to deal with gossip rags. So, I’ll report it internally and have Kwak investigated. But he’s out of my program for good.”
“And after that?”
“After that?”
Moon Sungil shrugged, making it clear he had no further plans.
‘He thinks just catching Kwak Cheol-woong means the danger is over.’
But it wasn’t going to end that easily.
Doyun paused, then carefully spoke.
“The new artists introduced through Music Campfire are dominating the industry, signing with emerging agencies, right?”
“Most of them signed with Harmony. It’s a new agency, but I’d say it’s relatively untainted.”
“Then why not work with Harmony?”
Moon Sungil raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t want to support any specific company.”
“I understand that. But didn’t you say win-win partnerships were possible?”
Doyun smiled, hinting at the time Moon Sungil himself had spoken about building alliances with like-minded individuals to create power.
“Do you remember the story of the Trojan Horse from Greek mythology?”
Both Moon Sungil and Oh Youngguk knew the legend, but they still listened intently to Doyun’s words.
“The Greeks attacked Troy for ten years but couldn’t breach the walls. So, they pretended to retreat, leaving behind a giant wooden horse at the gates as a ‘gift from the gods.’”
“The Trojans brought it inside, believing it was a divine offering. But at night, Greek soldiers hidden inside emerged and opened the gates, leading to Troy’s downfall.”
Moon Sungil frowned.
“Why are you bringing this up? Do you think it relates to our situation?”
“Yes, I do.”
Doyun nodded, then looked directly at Moon Sungil.
“I believe Kwak Cheol-woong was our Trojan Horse. He appeared harmless on the outside but was working from within to destroy us.”
Moon Sungil’s expression turned grim.
“Then… are you saying there could be more Trojan Horses?”
“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
At that moment, Oh Youngguk, who had been listening silently, spoke up with a hardened expression.
“Then for the final live broadcast, the Trojan Horse might be one of the performers.”
“Exactly. Director, after today’s incident, you’ll avoid risky performances. You’ll thoroughly vet the staff and only bring in trustworthy personnel. Am I wrong?”
Moon Sungil shook his head.
“No, you’re right. That’s why I feel relieved. Now, they won’t be able to sabotage my show.”
“But what if a singer curses or acts violently during the broadcast? That would still cause an incident.”
“That would ruin the singer’s career, but desperate people exist.”
Some people had sick family members needing expensive surgeries.
Others were drowning in debt.
In such cases, who’s to say what someone might be willing to do?
Moon Sungil ran a hand through his hair, his face darkening.
“This is a mess…”
“Don’t worry,” Doyun said.
“We just need to create our own Trojan Horse and send it into the enemy’s fortress.”
Doyun gestured with his chin—Baek Kyung was walking toward them.
—
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