Chapter 156 : Fair Play
Chapter 156: Fair Play
Regrettably, Park Taekeun didn’t consider Kim Minsoo a rival.
Having dedicated his life to raising a shabby little publishing company—once run by a lone composer—into a top-tier industry player, he couldn’t have cared less about a silver-spoon brat like Kim Minsoo waving stacks of cash around.
He knew.
In this industry, what truly mattered wasn’t money.
Rookie, brat, hothouse flower, pampered prince... Someone like Kim Minsoo would never understand it, not in his entire life.
That was the thought that had crossed his mind as he watched the situation unfold.
“Hmmm……”
Even when Kim Minsoo barged into his office today, it was the same.
That sly grin, the outfit that seemed to smother people with money.
Surely, he was just pretending to be at ease.
He made it look like he was trying hard, but inside, that couldn’t be the case, could it?
A guy barely past thirty couldn’t possibly know the real way to succeed in this field.
Suppressing such thoughts, Park Taekeun politely gestured with his hand.
“Please, have a seat. Take your time and enjoy a cup of tea.”
Handling people—
That, he believed, was the real key to success.
Reading the intention behind every expression, every tone of voice.
Sometimes stepping back, sometimes smiling and listening.
Even knowing when to nod at just the right moment.
Such intuition and balance were what had brought him to where he was.
Catering to production companies, taking care of composers’ conditions, sensing employees’ moods with just a glance—
He was confident in all of it.
But Kim Minsoo, who had just crossed thirty?
Could he do that?
Someone born as a fourth-generation chaebol, solving problems with money?
Yet now—
“I’m about to lose a cherished employee. I’m not generous enough to sit here sipping tea, ha-ha, ho-ho.”
“……?”
Was he mistaken……?
Suddenly, that thought struck him.
This guy—he was provoking him with an unreadable expression.
Even if he was just a rookie, he was the CEO of KIM Entertainment, after all.
You’d expect him to test the waters a bit, speak in refined, roundabout ways.
But oh no.
He wasn’t some hothouse flower—he was a goblin weed, grown wild in an open field……!!
Someone he didn’t understand.
Which made his sharp, absurd words stick in his ears even more.
“CEO Park. Let’s keep this fair.”
“Where is this coming from all of a sudden…….”
Surprise and displeasure—
Somewhere between the two, Park Taekeun’s expression faltered as Kim Minsoo’s smile wedged itself in.
The bridge part of Velvet Trigger had just started.
DJ Blackhole’s set rippled even more vividly through the tense air.
And in the midst of it, Kim Minsoo lightly summed up the situation.
“Everything else is fine. But let go of Stay. Let it go.”
“CEO Kim, that’s—”
“Why are you trying to use a kid who’s just making music as a mere pawn in your pathetic little chess game, huh?”
Park Taekeun looked at Kim Minsoo with a renewed gaze.
A mature sneer, containing anger tempered by elegance.
An attitude that, while disdainful of the other, maintained courtesy.
‘……Was Kim Minsoo always like this?’
As Park Taekeun stood there dazed, Kim Minsoo quickly shot out his words.
“Stay’s not your chess piece. Not yours, not anyone else’s. He’s not someone you can treat like that. If you were planning to put him on the board, you should’ve taken a better look at it first.”
“Hold on. Just a moment.”
As if to pause and calm things down—
Park Taekeun tried to steer the conversation in a calm tone.
But Kim Minsoo let out a long sigh and added,
“CEO Park. What did you do with those up-and-coming rookie composers before this? Eunchul, Haeseon, Ji-hyuk…… Wasn’t it you who made them so disillusioned they left the industry?”
For a moment, Park Taekeun’s eyes wavered.
Names he hadn’t heard in a while—and ones that still stung.
A different team, a different concept every time.
Rookie composers, endlessly consumed within the framework dictated by Daebak Sound, until they eventually gave up music altogether.
Park Taekeun said nothing.
He was afraid that opening his mouth would mean admitting his methods had been wrong.
Kim Minsoo didn’t miss the chance to dig in deeper.
“Poaching our staff? Sure, go ahead. Scaring people with pathetic threats? Fine, if that’s how Daebak Sound operates, I’ll respect it. But…… throwing Stay into the mix? That’s just lame.”
“…….”
“Lately, looking at how Daebak Sound’s been moving…… It seems to me, CEO Park, you’re not in love with music. You’re in love with power.”
Park Taekeun pressed his temples.
Then he asked Kim Minsoo in a low voice.
“……Was it Director Lim?”
Kim Minsoo didn’t respond.
Instead, he left behind a vague comment as he exited.
“Oh, unlike some, I hate meddling in other people’s business.”
Kim Minsoo disappeared.
And Stay’s song, which had been playing, came to an end.
In the lonely silence that followed, Park Taekeun muttered to himself.
“There really isn’t a single easy bastard in this industry.”
Then he picked up the phone and urgently summoned Director Lim.
A company isn’t an ATM that spits out salaries with a simple ‘click.’
It’s a place where you pour your emotions, relationships, time—and pride.
Effort to prove oneself, diligence, responsibility, human relationships, ambition for success……
All of it gets converted into ‘responsibility’ within the system.
And within that structure—
Some people become convinced they hold something truly powerful.
Just like right here, someone like Im Geonwoo.
“……Wasn’t it CEO Park who gave me full authority over casting?”
He believed that, just because he had been sitting in the seat for a while,
cutting people, attaching people, raising people, discarding people—was no big deal.
He thought he was running the company.
But in truth, it was the company that had made him run.
Power doesn’t come from luring staff from another company with a bit of extra cash.
Real power—
Was held by the one who decided whether you still belonged in that seat or not.
Im Geonwoo didn’t realize that.
Under the pretense of working for the company’s good, he strutted around meddling everywhere, seeing the whole industry beneath his feet.
But only now, as he looked at Park Taekeun’s icy expression—
Did he begin to realize something had gone wrong.
“……CEO?”
“Director Im.”
“Yes.”
“Do you think the folks at Daebak Sound would still bow to you if you lost your director title? Hell, would they even meet with you?”
“Well…….”
“Geonwoo.”
He stared at Im Geonwoo for a moment, then slowly stood up.
With his back turned toward the window, he spoke quietly.
“You judge people by how useful they are. How much value they hold, how long they’ll keep producing profit…… But when you look at people like that—”
His voice dropped lower.
“Even the ones you had will run away. People aren’t spare parts.”
Park Taekeun slowly turned his head to look straight at Im Geonwoo.
Im Geonwoo remained silent.
“Running around planting flags wherever under the company’s name, saying ‘this is my turf’? Anyone can do that. But earning people’s trust so they follow you…… That’s not something just anyone can do.”
“…….”
“Even Busan Goblin and Seo Dongyoon, whom we worked so hard on, all ended up at KIM Entertainment? Does that really hurt your pride that much? Then we should blame our skills. Don’t go around name-dropping Stay for consolation.”
Park Taekeun turned back toward the window.
Fixing his gaze outside, he asked with a detached expression.
“How’s the Almond Young project coming along?”
“The demo is nearly finished.”
“Stay seemed pretty interested.”
“Yes, that’s how it looked.”
Im Geonwoo clenched his teeth subtly.
But Park Taekeun had already noticed.
After all the years they’d spent together.
He surely was…
Grinding his teeth in frustration right now.
Still, a cheap trick would do more harm than good.
Park Taekeun had no taste for pathetic villain games, like some petty sabotage.
“A creator like Stay—he’s not someone you deal with that way.”
Park Taekeun looked up at the darkening sky.
He couldn’t just reel Stay in right away. Nor should he.
But there was a way to pique his interest.
“Becoming the kind of company he wants to join is simpler than you think.”
“…Sorry?”
Im Geonwoo tilted his head.
He couldn’t quite grasp what that meant.
A company you want to join.
Isn’t that already what Daebak Sound is?
Generous terms, clients lining up—what more could you ask for?
To such a thought, Park Taekeun responded in a coaxing tone.
“Fair play.”
The Almond Young project.
When that topic came up, Park Taekeun had seen it clearly.
How brightly Stay’s eyes had shone when he talked about music.
And when he realized their directions didn’t align, even the air in the CEO’s office shifted at the disappointment on Stay’s face.
“What you mean is…”
“We have to pull this project off properly.”
Only then did the pieces click for Im Geonwoo.
There was no way to win Stay over under current circumstances.
It was a project too rigid to adjust to his own creative direction.
But Daebak Sound wasn’t like KIM Entertainment.
The kind of project that couldn’t be done at KIM could be handled easily here.
A publishing company with doors open on all sides.
If they showed their skills fairly, that would be enough.
That was how to win the heart of a curious young creator.
“Yes. I’ll seize this opportunity and see it through successfully.”
Im Geonwoo added strength to his last words.
“As always.”
A confident reply.
And for good reason.
He knew that not long ago, Park Taekeun had personally met with the Almond Young representatives.
Even if it wasn’t finalized, surely, they’d ensured the request wouldn’t land with nuisances like KIM Entertainment.
“Alright. Let’s get to it.”
But there was something Im Geonwoo didn’t know.
That no matter how seasoned Park Taekeun was in the industry—
He couldn’t manipulate the real powers of a conglomerate.
The only one who could sway the true power within a conglomerate—
Surprisingly, that was Kim Minsoo.
Teheran-ro, Gangnam.
Standing in front of the KW Group headquarters, he looked up at the tall building.
“So this is today’s battleground.”
On his way to the lobby.
As always, a solo protest was underway at the main entrance.
While pretending not to see such things was a key virtue of a chaebol family heir, vile curiosity led Kim Minsoo’s eyes toward it.
The banner had thick, bold letters:
[ Was our product cheap to you? ]
[ You may fool the consumer, but your suppliers remember. ]
On the ground were signs like “13 cosmetics factories shut down,” and “Is it luxury just because the packaging changed?!”
“Hmph.”
Kim Minsoo activated the skill he’d learned since childhood—Saw it but didn’t see it—and walked into the lobby.
Destination: the private lounge.
He passed through the lobby, got into the elevator.
Tossed a refined greeting to the secretaries bowing their heads respectfully.
The door to the private lounge opened.
And Kim Minsoo greeted the man inside with a playful grin.
“One minute early! Safe. How’ve you been?”
The man glanced at his watch and looked up.
His name was Kim Jinsoo.
A leading candidate to become KW Group’s next head—and Kim Minsoo’s eldest brother.
“You haven’t changed.”
Kim Minsoo, instead of answering, dropped onto the sofa.
Then, lazily rolled up his shirt sleeves and responded,
“You haven’t either. Nor has the view in front of your office.”
“And as always, you only show up when you need something.”
Kim Jinsoo’s gaze settled on his youngest brother.
It had been exactly two years since Kim Minsoo last visited him.
He only came when he had a request.
And each time, he’d lay it out with the confidence of someone who’d left something in safekeeping.
Yet, he wasn’t annoying.
Perhaps because he’d given up on the management rights from the start and chosen the path of a performer.
There was only one real regret.
That he couldn’t get Kim Minsoo to ride on the back of the entertainment giant he was about to acquire.
Come to think of it, Kim Minsoo’s odd behavior didn’t end there.
“Dropping out of Berklee College of Music… he really must’ve lost it.”
Which is why—
When KIM Entertainment was founded, the one who opposed it the most was none other than Kim Jinsoo.
The kid who’d been obsessed with music since he was little.
He rejected a CEO seat at KW ENM and instead started some pathetic entertainment company, pretending to be the big boss.
KW ENM.
The undisputed No. 1 in Korea’s media industry.
Games, broadcasting, entertainment, home shopping.
To pass up all those heavyweight subsidiaries and go for a small entertainment firm?
He didn’t like it, but still helped in subtle ways.
Not out of brotherly love or sympathy for a half-sibling.
Not some grand sentiment.
He just wondered how long a spoiled kid could survive in the wild—and while he didn’t wish for a brutal failure, he didn’t want to see him fall apart either.
So he merely observed, offering drops of water to keep him from withering.
And yet, KIM Entertainment had recently grown so rapidly that even KW Entertainment had started to see it as a threat.
All with a mere rookie who had just stepped into the industry.
That was why, today, Kim Jinsoo welcomed Kim Minsoo’s visit.
He asked bluntly,
“What is it this time?”
Kim Minsoo grinned.
Conversations should be short. Calculations, fast.
“Almond Young. I hear it’s quite the big project.”
Kim Minsoo, fiddling with his cuffs, looked his eldest brother straight in the eyes and said,
“Let’s play fair.”
Then smiled slyly.
“……”
Kim Jinsoo quietly observed the expression his youngest brother wore—one feigning innocence.
It looked like there was more he wanted to say, so he waited.
But with that final line, Kim Minsoo slowly got up.
Like someone who’d already said all he needed to say.
Once Kim Minsoo had left—
Kim Jinsoo folded his arms and gazed indifferently at the chaotic Teheran-ro view, then called his secretary.
“Almond Young—we need to check in on that directly. Call the team together immediately.”
Kim Jinsoo had a gut feeling.
This was love for the group.
He couldn’t take lightly the words of a brother who hadn’t visited in two years.