The next morning, Han Yoo-jin walked into the offices of Stellar Entertainment for the last time. He felt a strange sense of detachment, as if he were a visitor from another world observing a life he used to live. The familiar buzz of the A&R department, the ambitious energy, the undercurrent of gossip—it all seemed distant, like a scene playing out behind a thick pane of glass. He went to his desk, ignoring the curious and speculative glances from his colleagues, and switched on his computer.
He didn't bother checking his emails or responding to any pending messages. He opened a blank word document. The text he typed was simple, formal, and utterly final. It was a letter of resignation, effective immediately. He printed it, the hum of the machine sounding like a final sigh, and signed his name with a firm, steady hand. He folded the paper, slid it into a clean white envelope, and stood up. His personal belongings were already gone, packed up the night before. There was nothing left for him here.
He walked across the office, his footsteps echoing in the sudden quiet that followed his path. He stopped in front of the office that had once belonged to Director Kang. Choi Jin-wook was sitting behind the large, imposing desk, leaning back in the expensive leather chair with a smug, self-satisfied look on his face. He had been named Acting Head of the A&R Department in Kang's absence, a temporary promotion he was clearly treating as a permanent coronation.
"Jin-wook," Yoo-jin said, his voice even. He placed the envelope squarely in the center of the desk.
Jin-wook's eyes darted from Yoo-jin to the envelope, a slow, predatory grin spreading across his face. "Well, well. Don't tell me. Is this what I think it is?" He picked it up with a theatrical flourish, his fingers tearing open the seal with undisguised pleasure. He scanned the contents, and his grin widened into a triumphant sneer.
"Resignation? Effective immediately?" he said loudly enough for the entire department to hear. "Wow, Han. I have to say, I'm disappointed. I thought you had more fight in you. Running away with your tail between your legs after just one little victory?"
Yoo-jin saw the blue panel flash beside his rival's head, a clear window into his petty thoughts.
[Choi Jin-wook's Current Thoughts: Perfect! Absolutely perfect! With Kang suspended and this idealistic idiot gone, this department is all mine. I can finally push through my own projects without their interference. He's doing me a massive favor. I should almost thank him.]
"I'm not running away, Jin-wook," Yoo-jin replied, his voice calm and carrying. "I'm moving forward. There's a difference. Good luck here. You're going to need it."
He turned to leave, but the office door swung open, blocking his path.
Director Kang stood in the doorway. He was dressed in expensive casual clothes—a stark contrast to his usual power suits—but the casual attire did nothing to soften the aura of cold fury radiating from him. He was suspended, not banished, and he looked like a king surveying a rebellion in his court. His venomous eyes locked onto Yoo-jin, then flicked to the resignation letter still held in Jin-wook's hand.
"Resigning?" Kang's voice was dangerously quiet, yet it cut through the office chatter like a razor. The entire department fell silent. "How… proactive of you."
He walked slowly toward Yoo-jin, his presence sucking the air out of the room. He completely ignored Jin-wook, who suddenly looked like a child playing dress-up in his father's chair.
"I suppose you think you're clever," Kang said, stopping just inches from Yoo-jin, invading his personal space. "You orchestrated your little drama, caused some chaos for the company, and now you're jumping ship before it gets too hot. A classic coward's move."
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a sibilant whisper meant only for Yoo-jin, but laced with enough menace for everyone to feel. "Let me give you some free advice, Han Yoo-jin. This industry… this world we live in… it's a very small pond. Reputations, good and bad, they follow you everywhere. The producers, the investors, the broadcast directors… they all talk. They all listen to me. Make sure that when you try to start your pathetic little project, people don't just see you as the man who picked up my trash."
It was a direct, undisguised threat. He was going to poison the well, blacklist him, make sure every door in Seoul was slammed shut in his face. Yoo-jin met his gaze without flinching, a cold resolve solidifying in his chest.
"Thanks for the advice, Director," he said, his own voice steady. "I'll be sure to build something strong enough that your reputation can't touch it."
Without another word, he sidestepped the fuming director and walked away. He could feel Kang's murderous glare on his back, a physical weight. He didn't look back. The war had officially been declared.
He didn't go straight home. He had one last piece of business at Stellar Entertainment. He had to secure his first ally. He made his way to a small, unused breakroom on another floor, a forgotten space with a few dusty chairs and a broken vending machine. Just as he'd hoped, Go Min-young, the quiet intern, was there. She was hunched over a worn-out notebook, scribbling furiously, a pen clutched in her hand. She was so engrossed in her world of words that she didn't hear him enter.
He stood by the door, observing her, and let his ability focus.
[Name: Go Min-young]
[Affiliation: Stellar Entertainment (Intern)]
[Overall Potential: S (Lyricist/Songwriter)]
[Key Strengths: Empathetic Storytelling, Unique Metaphors, Innate Melodic Phrasing]
[Critical Weakness: Crippling Shyness, Debilitating Fear of Rejection]
[Current Thoughts: They rejected my lyrics for the new rookie group's debut song again. Director Choi said they were 'too dark' and 'not commercial enough.' Maybe he's right. Maybe I'm just not cut out for this. Maybe I should just quit and prepare for the civil service exam like my parents want me to.]
An S-Rank. A raw, pure S-Rank lyricist, on the verge of giving up her dream because of men like Choi Jin-wook. The injustice of it fueled his resolve.
"They're not too dark," Yoo-jin said softly.
Min-young yelped, jumping in her seat as if struck by lightning. She snapped her notebook shut and clutched it to her chest, her face flushing crimson. "Manager Han! I… I'm sorry, I was just on my break…"
"They're honest," Yoo-jin continued, ignoring her panic as he stepped into the room. "I read the lyrics you submitted last month. The ones Choi Jin-wook rejected for being 'uncommercial.' They were about the pressure of being a trainee, the feeling of losing yourself to fit a mold. They were brilliant. They just didn't understand them because they're looking for bubblegum pop, not poetry."
Go Min-young stared at him, her mouth slightly agape, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and disbelief. No one in this company had ever said her work was brilliant.
"I just resigned," Yoo-jin told her directly, deciding that a slow approach was pointless. "I'm starting my own label. A small one. A tiny one, probably. It will have one artist to start, an artist who needs a voice, a real one. And I need a lyricist. Not just an employee who writes what they're told to. I need a creative partner. A founding member."
His gaze fell to the notebook she was still clutching like a shield. "I can't offer you a big salary or a fancy office with a view. For now, I can probably only offer you instant noodles and a leaky roof. But I can offer you this: everything you write will be heard. It will be respected. And you will never, ever be asked to write something you don't believe in."
Tears welled up in Go Min-young's eyes. It was the offer her soul had been crying out for, a dream she was too shy to even admit to herself she had. "Me?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "But… I'm just an intern."
"Yes, you," Yoo-jin said, his voice filled with a powerful confidence that seemed to calm her instantly. "Your potential is off the charts, Go Min-young. It's a tragedy that you're wasting it here, letting men with no vision tell you what art is. It's time someone let you use it."
She looked down at her battered notebook, then back up at the man standing before her, offering her not just a job, but salvation. A single tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. She wiped it away with the back of her hand and, with a deep, shuddering breath, she gave a single, determined nod.
"Yes," she said, her voice stronger than he had ever heard it. "I'll do it."
Yoo-jin smiled, a genuine, unburdened smile. He had survived the interrogation. He had signed his ghost. And now, he had recruited his first ally. The foundation of his empire was being laid, one forgotten, S-Rank stone at a time.