Chapter 163 : A Death Match for Pride
Chapter 163: A Death Match for Pride
Chiiiik—
The savory smell of seasoning spread through the air as the ribs cooked deliciously.
The one holding the tongs and diligently grilling the meat wasn’t Kim Minsoo, but Kim Jinsoo.
‘Hm?’
It felt strange to see his hyung like that.
It was such an unfitting scene that Minsoo only stared down at the meat.
Then Jinsoo put a few pieces on his younger brother’s plate and said,
“Eat a lot.”
Minsoo lifted his head.
Did hyung eat something weird today?
“What are you looking at like that? Never seen someone grill meat before?”
“No.”
That wasn’t it. If he’d suggested eating together right before the final pitching, Minsoo naturally thought they’d be talking about work.
Even just a moment ago—he’d brought up the song as soon as they met. So why was he suddenly only talking about the meat now?
The thought almost slipped out but he swallowed it down.
Instead, he said,
“You’re better at grilling than I thought.”
“You’re the one who asked me to buy it. Of course I should cook it too.”
At that, Minsoo just chuckled faintly.
Right. Hyung had always been like this.
One Children’s Day, his brother gave him a robot as a gift.
But it was too big and complicated for him to assemble alone.
He didn’t have a real mom to help him with things like that.
And every time, Jinsoo helped.
‘A gift should be something you take responsibility for till the end.’
That was always his way. Buying wasn’t the end.
If he bought him a game console, he’d play with him. If he bought a robot, he’d help assemble it.
How much he’d wanted those gifts, or how big and cool they were—he couldn’t remember any of that.
Only the time spent with his brother remained clear.
And now, that same brother sat across from him, carefully grilling each piece of marinated meat.
“Why are you smiling?”
“No reason. It just looks good. Let’s eat.”
Minsoo suddenly thought—was this what Taeyoon had meant when he said, ‘Let go of expectations’?
At some point, he’d started expecting things from his brother.
What would he buy him this time, how would he play with him this time.
But after Jinsoo came back from the army and started working, those expectations slowly turned into disappointment.
Even though hyung hadn’t done anything wrong.
He’d simply ended up resenting him after wanting too much.
‘That Taeyoon guy’s pretty sharp, huh?’
Even today—it was the same.
He hadn’t come here with any big expectations.
But with his brother grilling meat for him like this, he couldn’t help but feel touched.
For the first time in a long while, Kim Minsoo had a proper meal with his brother.
Peaceful and pleasant.
“Food tastes better when you’re the one paying for it, hyung.”
“You little punk, what are you—…”
After the meal ended,
Jinsoo sipped his dessert sujeonggwa and asked,
“That DJing file… what did you mean by it?”
“Well…”
At the vague answer, his lips twitched for a second—but unlike usual, he didn’t throw out a threatening line like, ‘What was your intention sending me that file?’
Instead, he lowered his tone into something more businesslike.
“Minsoo.”
“Yeah?”
“The DJing version could actually turn out to be poison.”
“…Poison?”
“Not everyone giving opinions in a pitching has deep musical insight—or the ability to catch the hidden meaning behind a track.”
“Hyung, that means…”
Minsoo set down his sujeonggwa and continued, the corners of his lips lifting slightly.
“So you understood it, then?”
Even at the joke in Minsoo’s voice,
Jinsoo replied with the same businesslike expression.
“I mean, how about working on something bigger with me?”
“Huh…?”
“You know what I mean, right?”
Honestly, not really.
“Hm…”
Still, Minsoo shrugged, as if to say, ‘Well, maybe kind of?’
He was someone who’d mastered the art of talking in circles.
Jinsoo didn’t speak this way because he was sly or manipulative or because he looked down on Minsoo.
It was just something he did when he couldn’t read the other person’s intentions.
That was how he gauged their thoughts.
People, after all, tended to interpret things in the way most favorable to themselves.
And in doing so, they revealed their true feelings.
That was Jinsoo’s way of handling people who didn’t show their cards.
But Minsoo wasn’t such an easy opponent.
“What kind of answer are you hoping I’ll give, hyung?”
“…?”
“You’ve always done that. Whenever I answer vaguely, you probe like that. But, hyung.”
“Yeah, go on.”
“I’m really bad at reading between the lines. Let’s just talk straight. I don’t wanna waste energy playing word games with you.”
Jinsoo nearly lost his composure—being hit right on the mark—but he quickly steadied himself.
Hearing his brother call for a fair play like that actually made it more interesting.
This would make things easier.
He relaxed his expression and said,
“I’m talking about that song. I think I’ve found a project more fitting for it than the Almond Young project.”
“The original version, or the DJing version?”
“Both?”
“So you’re telling me to drop out of this pitching, then? No way…?”
“Wasn’t meant like that.”
Releasing the DJ-arranged version would be a double-edged sword.
That was what Kim Jinsoo thought.
To him, it could be an opportunity to see Stay as a composer with even greater potential.
But for a conservative company, it would be seen as a risk—something to look at with suspicion.
“You know how it is. Once a company finds its footing, it tends to value stability. No matter how stylish the DJing version sounds, someone will end up developing a bias against the original track because of it.”
Kim Minsoo simply nodded calmly.
“Especially since it’s a long-prepared project. It’s not just about sales. You’ve run a company yourself, so you should know. No matter how innovative a plan may be, it takes real courage to actually—”
At that moment, Minsoo, who had been listening quietly, suddenly cut him off.
“Wait, wait.”
“Huh?”
“Everything else, fine. But that part—I can’t agree with. Yeah, I run a company, but… how can you suppress creativity? Especially when you’re the owner, isn’t that the one thing you shouldn’t suppress?”
“Heh.”
“No, seriously. The problem isn’t that there aren’t creative people—it’s that those who can be creative are too afraid to do it. Why turn it down if you can pull it off? Why not?”
“…Yeah. Why not indeed.”
As of today, Kim Jinsoo saw his youngest brother in a different light.
He’d thought the guy was just playing CEO, running a club with a DJ.
But that mindset?
‘Now that I think about it…’
Didn’t he debut the Cheongseong Members as a masked band?
Even had a DJ—a completely foreign element for a band—front and center to stir up buzz.
And that wasn’t all. A male ballad duo dabbling in R&B, too.
KIM Entertainment was walking paths no one else dared to tread.
And at the center of it was Stay.
‘The common link is the composer, huh. That’s… interesting.’
Was that coincidence? No, not at all.
There was no such thing as coincidence in this world.
It was merely the fragments of effort finding their rightful place—disguised as inevitability.
In truth, Jinsoo had called for this meeting to discuss something bigger than the Almond Young project.
Regardless of how today’s pitching turned out.
But he’d changed his mind a little.
With that mindset, with that confidence—
There was nothing to worry about.
Or maybe, deep down, he’d been hoping Minsoo would ask him for a favor today.
He’d laid the groundwork to establish dominance in their relationship.
Yet here he was, finding himself looking forward to seeing what KIM Entertainment and Stay would do next.
“Hyung, I don’t know what exactly you were worried about or what you were curious about. But you already gave me a chance last time. That’s more than enough.”
“You sound pretty confident.”
“Of course.”
“Confident about winning the pitching?”
“No.”
Minsoo downed his sujeonggwa in one go and smiled that mischievous, devilish grin of his.
“Confident about showing exactly what Stay and I want to show.”
“You…”
Jinsoo could read that peculiar smile easily.
‘I’ll handle it.’
Seeing that confident face, Jinsoo couldn’t help but laugh.
For the first time in a while, a deep, hearty laugh.
Minsoo laughed along with him.
‘Guess he had fun, huh?’
He’d planned to leave with a cool line and disappear smoothly—
But seeing that proud expression on his brother’s face, he just couldn’t walk away yet.
“Thanks for the meal, hyung. Honestly, I’m not that into this place, but coming here with you made it pretty nice. It was good.”
“Next time, I’d like to meet that composer too.”
“Ah, come on. He’s not even under exclusive contract with us. It’s not like I can summon him. But I’ll ask.”
At that casual line, Kim Jinsoo made up his mind.
Kim Minsoo, Stay, and KIM Entertainment—
He’d give these adorable kids a big gift.
Of course, he’d take full responsibility for both the start and the end of that gift.
‘When would be the right timing?’
There was no reason to hesitate.
Jinsoo urgently summoned the Headquarters Marketing Strategy Team.
It was three hours before the Almond Young Campaign main theme pitching.
That afternoon.
The Almond Young meeting room grew noisy.
Daebak Sound vs KIM Entertainment.
A death match for pride—everyone, without exception, gathered in the conference room.
This wasn’t just any pitching for a theme song.
But it wasn’t something grand like determining the brand’s future or deciding the fate of its image either.
There was another reason today’s presentation had everyone in a stir.
“They say the Marketing Strategy Team from headquarters is coming down today?”
“Huh? Seriously?”
“Yeah. Rumor has it, Executive Director Kim Jinsoo is coming too…”
It was, indeed, an unusual event.
For headquarters to come all the way down just to decide on a project’s main theme? That never happened.
Up until now, they’d only done one thing—
Standing back, watching from afar, and then asking, ‘So, how are the sales?’
Murmurs spread.
Speculation ran wild.
Was this an inspection to see how things were going?
Or did they have some other agenda?
No one knew.
But one question echoed in everyone’s mind.
‘Why?’
It was like a division commander visiting a military unit—or an education inspector showing up at school.
Before anyone could make sense of it, the meeting began amidst the confusion.
“Executive Director entering!”
Two teams were seated at the front of the conference table.
Daebak Sound and KIM Entertainment.
The Daebak Sound side scanned the room with a confident smile.
Some of the working-level staff already seemed to have made up their minds.
Connections, achievements, familiarity—everything was on their side.
On the other hand, the KIM Entertainment team remained relatively quiet.
CEO Kim Minsoo sat in his seat, flanked by two staff members.
Both teams had their representatives present at the meeting.
Then someone spoke up meaningfully.
“The composer didn’t join us today, I see. I was hoping to meet Composer Stay.”
Minsoo replied with ease.
“There’s no real need for the composer to attend, is there? The music will do all the talking anyway. Right, CEO Park?”
Before Park Taekeun could respond, Im Geonwoo, seated beside him, suddenly cut in.
“Rather than the composer, isn’t the person who came today a much greater source of confidence for CEO Kim Minsoo?”
The atmosphere in the meeting room shifted slightly.
Everyone knew that Kim Minsoo and Kim Jinsoo were brothers.
The eyes of everyone present wavered uncontrollably.
– It was strange that headquarters suddenly showed up.
– But they can’t be here just to play family favoritism, right?
– Ah… what’s with this atmosphere? It’s suffocating.
Summing up the whispers exchanged behind their backs, it all boiled down to this:
– What is this, a song pitching session or a political battlefield?
Soon after, the two songs played in sequence.
First came Daebak Sound’s <Royal Heat>.
Predictable composition, stable mixing, and an image perfectly aimed at the brand’s target audience.
A few quiet sighs followed.
“This is the textbook example of ad music.”
Everyone seemed to share the same impression—good.
Then came KIM Entertainment’s <First Spark> (original version).
“Ah…”
Someone inhaled sharply.
The stiff expressions of the executives softened.
They looked as if they’d rediscovered something they had forgotten.
The oldest director murmured, almost to himself,
“I’ve heard something like this before…”
It was the same feeling he’d had back in 2002, when he first heard Almond Young’s campaign song.
It was undoubtedly sophisticated.
But why did it make his heart tingle like this?
“This could even work as a brand slogan. First Spark.”
Some people smiled faintly, others furrowed their brows.
And then—just when everyone thought no one would dare add anything more— the youngest director across the table raised an objection.
“This isn’t a place to debate whether a song is good or bad. The concept and keywords are clearly defined. Oh, and that’s not to say KIM Entertainment’s song lacks anything. It’s plenty competitive. But Daebak Sound’s track aligns more closely with the luxury concept.”
From there, fierce arguments followed.
Good, bad.
Sophisticated, unstable.
A gain if chosen, a loss if not.
Blah blah, this and that.
That’s how meetings always were—
a place for polite fighting.
Deriving rational results? Nobody cared about that.
Everyone was simply obsessed with making others agree: “No, seriously, I’m telling you, I’m right.”
Outwardly, it seemed evenly matched. But in numbers, it was six to four— Daebak Sound held a slight advantage.
Watching the meeting silently, Kim Minsoo thought to himself,
‘What a mess.’
So this was what a big corporation amounted to.
And why did my brother even come?
He turned his gaze to Kim Jinsoo.
For someone who’d brought the Headquarters Marketing Strategy Team along, Jinsoo looked far too relaxed.
Even a bystander watching a fire across a river wouldn’t look that calm.
Of course, the HQ staff who came with him were the same—quiet and composed.
Then, Executive Director Kim Jinsoo, who had been observing the situation calmly, glanced at the wall clock and brought everyone’s attention to him.
“Yes, I’ve heard all your opinions. First, I’d like to thank both Daebak Sound and KIM Entertainment for your hard work preparing for this presentation.”
The noisy marketplace-like atmosphere fell silent in an instant.
Jinsoo bowed politely to both Park Taekeun and Kim Minsoo, then began summarizing the situation with an air of composure.
“Based on the discussion, it seems Daebak Sound’s <Royal Heat> is more suitable in terms of concept alignment. Therefore, the Almond Young Project main theme will be finalized with that track.”
As soon as he finished, the energy shifted on Daebak Sound’s side of the table.
Im Geonwoo curled his lips and clapped quietly.
It wasn’t arrogant—but there was clear satisfaction behind it.
Yet, even as he watched this, Kim Minsoo remained surprisingly calm.
Why did Taeyoon’s words suddenly come to mind?
‘So this is what he meant by not having expectations.’
A faint laugh escaped him.
It was a strangely familiar feeling, as if someone had told him in advance.
Then what was that meal earlier? A consolation dinner? They’d already decided everything among themselves?
Still, he wasn’t the kind of man to let his mixed feelings show.
He just wasn’t ready to see Taeyoon disappointed— after all the effort he’d put into writing the song.
The meeting wrapped up quickly.
Im Geonwoo smirked and stood up, while Park Taekeun, beside him, quietly studied Kim Minsoo.
They had won. Daebak Sound’s song had been selected. And yet—
‘What’s this…?’
A strange chill ran through him.
He hadn’t spent 30 years in this industry for nothing.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that even though they’d won, they hadn’t really won.
Anyway, as the meeting concluded anticlimactically and people began to leave one by one,
the Headquarters Marketing Strategy Team Leader softly called out to Minsoo.
“CEO Kim Minsoo of KIM Entertainment.”
“Yes, Team Leader.”
“Would you have a moment to speak with us privately? There’s something important we’d like to discuss.”
“Pardon? Ah, yes, of course.”
What was this situation now?
As Minsoo stepped out the door, his eyes followed the back of his brother’s head.