For some reason, watching Lee Eun-woo stride ahead so swaggeringly made Kim Woohyun uneasy.
“These guys are really rough, you know.”
Fondling the knuckle duster on his hand and smiling, Lee Eun-woo looked thrilled, as if he were the protagonist of a comic book.
Ah.
Can I even trust a guy like that?
“Tsk—.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Kim Woohyun frowned.
“How much farther is it?”
“We’re almost there. Criminals like places that are… discreet.”
As he said that, Lee Eun-woo winked. From the way he talked, he must have grown up on boy-detective comics.
“Hoo….”
They slipped into an old, neglected neighborhood; between the alleys sat a lone, abandoned shipping container.
“Shh.”
When Kim started straight toward the container, Lee Eun-woo stopped him and put a finger to his lips.
“Let’s approach quietly.”
Quiet this, discreet that! What is this, playing at being some outfit?
Brushing off Eun-woo’s hand, Kim went straight for the container’s door handle and turned it.
Click, click.
But the door was bolted tight from the inside. Maybe no one was in.
“Tch….”
Just then, while Lee Eun-woo was shaking his head like all was lost because of Kim’s sudden move…
“Sixteen eighty-seven.”
A voice from inside spoke a string of numbers, meaning unknown.
Some kind of passcode, maybe.
“In that case….”
Kim recalled a line from a movie he’d seen, cleared his throat and, like a noir leading man, lowered his voice and said:
“Forty-eight eighty-five.”
Silence. Not a sound came from inside.
“…”
Apparently, that wasn’t it.
“What are you doing?”
At the whisper, Kim turned to find Lee Eun-woo looking at him with pitying eyes.
“I thought it might open if I did that.”
“What now? They’re never going to open this door.”
“Well, we can always… open it ourselves.”
With that, Kim leaned right up to the crack and called in:
“We know you took money from Hidden and spread the rumors. I’ll pay you double—do a job for us.”
A reply came through the gap.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please leave.”
“In case you didn’t catch that: I’m the division head at LS Entertainment.”
“You’ve got the wrong place.”
“Triple.”
“No business here.”
“Five times.”
As Lee Eun-woo, exasperated, re-adjusted his knuckle duster and started to speak—
Creeeeak—
The rusted door swung open.
“No way they’d just open up because of that… right?”
Kim immediately shoved an arm through the opening.
“If it’s this hard to even see your face, how are we supposed to have a smooth transaction?”
The man inside seemed shaken by the physical presence radiating from Kim’s broad frame and backed up a step.
“Wh—who are you! Cops?”
“No, so relax.”
The man jabbed a chin at Lee Eun-woo trailing in behind Kim and shouted:
“Then what the hell are you!”
Tilting his head—
“Heh heh, so we finally meet.”
Kim saw Lee Eun-woo, once again toying with his knuckles, wearing a fishy grin.
“Answer only what you’re asked, and this can be a transaction where everyone walks away happy.”
Oh, right.
He’s playing detective today.
“You took money from Hidden and pushed out rumors on HS and Jayble, didn’t you?”
“I don’t know anything about that.”
“Then why’d you open the door when you heard ‘five times’?”
“I— I just thought it, uh, sounded like you were offering a lot of money.”
“Come on. I said be straight and we can all be happy here.”
In a rather convincing tone, he kept up the intimidation.
“We only need one person to take responsibility for this. You, who just took the cash and wrote the copy, are you going to be that person?”
“Who even are you people?”
“I’m someone whose specialty is ruining other people’s lives.”
With a manic smile, Lee continued:
“Before we came, we finished running you down. Your family, friends, contacts in China; your assets; even indications you’ve overstayed illegally—every last bit.”
“Y—you—what are you!”
“Are you close enough to Hidden to be willing to lose all of that? Like lovers, perhaps…?”
At the word, the man snapped and barked:
“Why the hell would I be his lover! It’s strictly business.”
“Exactly. If it’s nothing more than business with Hidden, then you can just talk, can’t you?”
“I’ve just taken money from him now and then to post rumors, doctor photos, that’s all.”
“So this thing with HS and Jayble was the same….”
“I didn’t want to work with that rude, bulldozing bastard either. But what was I supposed to do when he offered a price you can’t refuse? I’ve got mouths to feed….”
“Understood.”
Nodding along quietly, Lee Eun-woo suddenly pulled the fountain pen from the breast pocket of his suit and pressed a button.
Beep.
Grinning, he spoke:
“You’ve acknowledged there was a cash transaction with Hidden as a business relationship, and you’ve admitted you maliciously spread rumors about HS and Jayble.”
“Y—you were recording? If it gets out that I told anyone I was hired—”
“Don’t worry. Your chairman won’t have to know. As long as we don’t poke the China subsidiary, right? We don’t want that migraine either.”
When did he gather all that? Crushed by the pressure of having been seen through, the man had long since tucked his tail.
“R—really?”
Eyes suddenly pleading, he asked. Lee nodded slowly, benevolently.
“Yeah. We just need one person to take the fall, that’s all.”
“It was Hidden. Hidden paid me to do everything.”
“As expected. Then Hidden should be that one person, shouldn’t he?”
“Yes. Yes, that’s right.”
Before long the man was nodding like an obedient dog, clutching at the hem of Lee’s jacket.
So this is what sets big law firms apart?
While Kim was quietly impressed—
Lee locked eyes with him and mouthed, hugely:
“Di. vi. sion. head. I’m. the. best. right?”
Then capped it with a triumphant wink.
Wink.
Kim decided that in the days to come, if he ever ran into a lunatic like this again, he’d be careful.
Watching public opinion turn against Jayble and HS, Hidden felt a peculiar pleasure.
See?
Why poke a man who’s minding his business and make it come to this?
“The losses are massive.”
Thinking of the hundreds of millions he’d burned to take out the pair, Hidden tossed back a slug of harsh liquor.
Still, he was satisfied with the result this time.
[ Isn’t Hidden honestly super pitiful here? There’s a line between insubordination and outright disrespect. Gay or revenge or whatever—dousing a much older senior at a salon in front of everyone? No defending that; it’s just humiliating. ]
Snickering, Hidden scrolled through the comments.
↳ True… ㅠㅠ Lost the gig… took a water blast…
↳ And he still covers for the junior? Big-hearted, man…
↳ So are Jayble and Etches dating or not?
↳ Uh;; what am I supposed to do if two handsome guys date each other;
↳ Even if they’re not gay, they still wouldn’t date you.
↳ That’s not the point of this post. Can’t you read?
↳ Exactly. It’s not about being gay—it’s about character.
↳ Weren’t Jayble and HS already known for having crap attitudes?
↳ Knew a scandal would hit eventually. Bye—won’t miss ya,,
↳ Yeah, the two of you can hold hands and walk off together,,
It stung his pride to do it, but it was worth releasing the CCTV.
Public opinion pitied him and lumped Jayble and HS together for condemnation.
On top of that, maybe because his name was getting tossed around on the forums, some of his past hits were creeping back up the charts.
Worth the money.
With a satisfied smile, Hidden swirled the glass in the air.
Clink—.
The liquor whorled like a little vortex—just as dizzying as the situation they were in.
“I’ll just…”
Raise a toast like this every day and wait for those two thorns in my side to disappear.
Right now, Hidden believed the whole world would keep moving to his will.
That is until the text arrived.
[ We’re cutting off business with you from now on. ]
Awkward phrasing, like it had been run through a translator.
[ We would prefer you not contact us going forward. ]
Caller ID blocked.
Right.
There was exactly one person who would send that kind of message from that kind of number.
“That son of a—.”
The next day.
Reporters, all lugging telephoto “bazooka” cameras—and their notebooks and laptops—took their seats.
There was a messy bustle, and a taut wire of tension humming through the air.
No surprise:
Composer “HS” had abruptly called his first press conference. He hadn’t said what it was about, but odds were, he was going to state his position on the recent rumors.
Amid the excited and jittery reporters, one man alone sat with a displeased frown.
Couldn’t he have given me a heads-up on this?
It was Gye Jinseong.
I thought I’d built a decent line to him.
It hurt enough that he couldn’t run this massive scoop as an exclusive under his name;
the thought of having to fight this many hands at the keyboard made him anything but happy.
Not just Gye Jinseong, other reporters were thinking the same, but with HS, even one line of coverage was precious; hence they were all here.
Is he really going to wear the helmet even to an official press conference?
In truth, Jinseong’s focus was solely “whether HS would wear the helmet.”
Yes, as the only entertainment reporter who’d ever done a one-on-one with HS—
His judgment was that HS wasn’t gay, didn’t do drugs, and wasn’t petty enough to steal another’s job on purpose.
He was… a bit arrogant and rough around the edges, though.
Just then, parched with swelling curiosity—
Murmur, murmur.
The room suddenly grew noisy. He looked around; several men in suits who looked like security hustled toward the doors.
So the star has arrived.
And then—
The great doors of the press room opened, revealing familiar faces.
Manager Kim Woohyun— no, not director. He’d been promoted to division head, hadn’t he?
Right.
Led by Division Head Kim, the LS Entertainment PR team leader came in, and heavyweight exec Park, the senior managing director, too.
Behind them, a phalanx who could only be from a big law firm filed in.
Even if it was his first official press conference, wasn’t this scale a bit much?
Wow…
An executive from a giant like LS tailing a mere composer to a press conference? Unheard of—
and yet, because it was HS, somehow it felt plausible.
“Again?”
With grumbling under their breaths and a few limp flashes popping here and there,
Step, step.
HS entered last with his helmet on, as always, the one with the flame emblem.
“Hello. Thank you to all the reporters who’ve come. I’m composer HS.”
Taking the dead center seat and the mic, HS spoke, and the murmurs died down again.
“The reason I called this press conference so suddenly is….”
It was because the sound of his voice carried a firm resolve.
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