Chapter 80

Kang Hajin's (past-life) work superior, and now the lead PD of 〈Miro Maze〉 — PD Kwon Myeongeun.

Right now, at Ji Suho's sudden summons, she'd arrived alone at the Miro building.

'What's this about, out of nowhere? Ah… as if I'm not already swamped.'

Her head was in a jumble. Lately the stress had her not sleeping, and her stomach was in knots. Even now, she was on her way back from tearing up the CEO's office.

'I went freelance to get away from office politics, and somehow ended up with even more people to answer to.'

Myeongeun put her sharp mind to work quickly, running through the possible reasons Suho had called her in today.

The stated reason was 'forward planning and emergency content transfusion,' but no matter how she turned it over, the vibe didn't match.

'If it were that, why would he tell me to come alone. Without even Writer Ko.'

Probably feeling out the whole issue of the episode-1 preview screening that kept getting pushed back. There was no way Suho didn't know CP Yoon was strong-arming the edit.

'From what I've heard, Kang Hajin is on Ji Suho's line — so it's probably about that.'

Turning Miro's stance — completely at odds with CP Yoon's revision direction — over in her mind, Myeongeun steeled her resolve. The CEO, feeling the pressure, seemed to want to go along with CP Yoon's side of things, but she felt differently.

'Kang Hajin — that kid's going to debut, no question. Pushing him is what saves this show.'

CP Yoon or not, once Miro committed to raising hell, there'd be no stopping it.

While she was thinking that, the door of the conference room opened and Ji Suho walked in. He, too, was alone.

"Ah, PD Myeongeun-nim, hello."

"Hello, Team Lead."

"Sorry for pulling you in when I know you're slammed. The thing is—"

Suho set his tablet down on the desk and moved to sit across from Myeongeun.

Or — he tried to.

"Team Lead. I know everything."

"…what?"

"You're frustrated, right? Speechless. At the end of your rope. We really never imagined things would drag on this far either."

"Uh, wait—"

"I'm so, so sorry!!"

At the sight of Myeongeun bowing so hard her forehead nearly hit the desk in apology, Suho froze there in an ungainly half-crouch — neither sitting nor standing — mouth moving without sound.

When Suho didn't respond, Myeongeun raised her head — sincerity dialed up another 200%, face pitiful — and clasped both hands together.

"But honestly, we're dying over here too, you know…."

Watching Myeongeun scrunch her brows into full pitiful mode, Suho thought,

'…leave it to Hajin's former boss.'

The moves were identical. A suspicion took root that maybe half of Hajin's people-handling repertoire had, in fact, come from this woman.

"Have a seat first. Let's talk sitting down, PD-nim."

"Ahem, shall we?"

Pushing his glasses up with a fingertip, Suho gestured toward the chair, and Myeongeun's mode flipped in an instant. Watching her fix her freshly-styled (freshly-washed for the first time in days) hair with one sweep of her hand, as if she'd never bowed her head just now, Suho let out a small laugh.

"Well, that's good news, at least."

"…good news?"

"Looks like you'll enjoy the sword-dance."

"S-sword-dance?"

At the murderous word choice delivered in that calm voice, Myeongeun sucked in a small hic of breath.

---

A few hours later, after all the talking was done and Myeongeun had left, Suho was still in the conference room alone.

"……"

Deep in thought, Suho pulled off his glasses and rubbed his face dry. He let out a small sigh, then made a call.

—Hello?

After a slightly extended ring, Hajin's voice came through on the other end.

Maybe because he knew about today's meeting with Myeongeun, Hajin's voice was calm as he spoke first.

—How did it go?

Pressing the back of his hand against his stiff eyes — from fatigue, probably — Suho answered.

"She said she'll do it."

—Figured she would.

Having heard the whole story from Suho, Myeongeun had accepted the offer more easily than expected.

"You called it exactly. The second the math checked out, she was in."

—That sunbaenim's like that. Consistently mercenary, but the pride she takes in her work is the real deal.

"But we have one problem."

Suho's voice dropped low. It was something he'd noticed while walking through the concrete plan with Myeongeun.

"You're caught up in the vote rigging too."

The fact was, CP Yoon hadn't just rigged Seongwoo's vote count.

"He didn't just doctor Seongwoo's tally — he moved votes that were coming in for you over to Seongwoo. Which means your current vote count isn't a legitimate result either."

If they went with Hajin's plan and pulled Seongwoo before the first broadcast, editing him out of the show, every vote Seongwoo had received to date would be voided — possible only because it wasn't paid voting.

"The problem is we don't know exactly how many of your votes ended up going to Seongwoo. To bury the fact of the tally-rigging at all, we'd have to bury the ones you lost too."

If only he'd moved a little earlier.

If he'd talked Hajin out of it and had the voting halted the moment the fraud was discovered.

Suho carried a regret nothing could undo.

But even so, he couldn't have promised the situation would've come out any better than it had. If anything, calculated coldly from the company's perspective, this current approach was the most profitable.

'No rigging scandal on our image, the broadcaster owing us one, and investment lined up for future content.'

The old Department Head wouldn't have hesitated for a second before throwing Hajin under the bus.

But Suho was too conscientious to make that call, and he cared about Hajin.

—Team Lead.

And, as if he knew Suho's every worry and regret, Hajin's voice on the other end came through bright.

As if all those worries were nothing at all.

—You think I stepped on this landmine without doing at least that much math?

"You — then…!"

—You said you'd be on my side. No matter what.

"……"

—Pass this along to PD Kwon. I've put a big sword in her hand, so dance the sword-dance properly. And just handle the edit properly.

Ah, I have to get practicing. Hanging up—

Before Suho could get another word in, Hajin ended the call. Even after the click of the disconnect, Suho couldn't bring himself to lower the hand holding his phone for a long moment.

'So from the very start — knowing he'd be the one to take the loss….'

The number of votes Seongwoo had stolen from Hajin was far from small. And yet Hajin had come off like it didn't bother him in the least.

'What… what on earth is he planning?'

Suho pressed at his throbbing forehead and tamped the anger back down.

Once he'd spent a while getting his breath and emotions in order, Suho picked the phone up again — this time to call Myeongeun.

—Yes, this is Kwon Myeongeun.

"PD-nim, this is Team Lead Ji Suho. That thing I mentioned earlier — let's move on it."

—…hmm. Yes, understood. I'll be in touch shortly.

"And — one more thing I'd like to propose. No, not a proposal. A condition."

As things stood, he couldn't just sit and watch either.

---

Han Seongwoo's luck had been off from the moment he got up.

He'd left home without an umbrella and gotten caught in a downpour;

grabbed one on the way, only for a rib to snap within ten minutes.

On top of that, he'd stepped wrong into a puddle,

which had wrecked the brand-new shoes he'd only just bought yesterday in muddy water.

'Nothing's going right today!'

Irritably shaking out his wet hair, Han Seongwoo stepped through the company's front entrance.

There was a shared shower room the trainees could use — he'd wash up there and change into the practice clothes he kept stashed at the company. The shoes were a shame, but he could just buy another pair.

'Ugh — fucking gross.'

From the shoes that still squelched rainwater with every step,

to every single hair he'd carefully set that morning,

Seongwoo was in full-blown irritation at the dirty rainwater unpleasantly plastering itself to him when—

"Aigo, hyungnim."

The owner of the voice Seongwoo least wanted to hear these days approached with his usual slick address.

"Absolutely drenched. Ah, how'd that happen."

"Get lost. I'm not in the mood to deal with someone like you today."

"Oh my, scary. Squeal."

Without so much as changing his pitch, shameless as anything, Hajin enunciated the word 'squeal' the way a kid would read straight out of a schoolbook.

At the tone that was so plainly making fun of him, Seongwoo balled a fist for a moment, but soon steadied his breathing. For one thing, the shower was more urgent right now — for another, he knew Hajin's whole attitude wasn't going to hold up much longer.

'Once the first broadcast drops…. And once the voting results come out, that bastard's cocky little routine ends right there.'

The next taping — the class-announcement filming, which CP Yoon had briefed him on ahead of time — wasn't far off.

Just picturing that smug face soon soaked in defeat actually seemed to lift the sour mood he'd been in a moment ago.

So Seongwoo brushed Hajin off and made to walk past. At which Hajin, smiling, laced his hands behind his head and, in a truly infuriating voice, said,

"Heading in? If I were you, I'd turn my phone off right now and go home, hyung."

'What is this crazy bastard on about.'

Better just not to talk to the guy at all. That decided, Seongwoo hurried toward the practice room. With no idea what was about to unfold for him from here.

Seongwoo stepped into the trainees-only lounge — the one with the lockers — to grab his change of clothes. The trainees who'd already arrived were either sorting through their lockers or chatting among themselves.

Seongwoo walked over to them without any hesitation and gave a soft greeting to the trainee who usually did the best job of humoring his moods.

"Oh — Gyeongho-ya. Morning, you're in early today."

"……"

"……? Gyeongho-ya?"

Then something strange happened. Gyeongho gave him a glance, and — completely ignoring the greeting — just walked out of the lounge.

'What?'

Something felt off, and Seongwoo looked around. Every one of the trainee dongsaengs who, only yesterday, had been hyung-hyung-ing him and hyping him up, now cut a quick glance his way and walked past like he wasn't there.

Never once in his life having encountered a situation like this, Han Seongwoo was a little thrown.

'Those bastards — did they eat something bad? Or is this some hidden-camera prank?'

Rattled, Seongwoo grabbed his towel and change of clothes but couldn't quite bring himself to head into the shower. Because now he could clearly feel something was wrong.

To find out what was going on, he left the lounge and hurried toward the practice room. But every trainee he crossed paths with on the way just started whispering when they saw him — not one gave him so much as a friendly greeting.

'What — what is this. What the fuck. What is going on!'

Around when his pace down the corridor — driven by an unease he couldn't pin down — had picked up more and more, someone at the far end of the hallway called out.

"Seongwoo-ya."

"……!"

"Got a minute?"

Miro's Guardian Spirit — the one everyone at the company was saying would take over the currently-vacant Department Head seat once 〈Miro Maze〉 wrapped and the next group debuted.

That very Ji Suho was standing at the end of the corridor, calling him — not a speck of a smile anywhere on his face.

Sensing danger on instinct, Seongwoo tightened his grip on the clothes and towel in his arms and took a step back.

"Ah, T-Team Lead… uh, if it's not urgent, could I go clean up first and come find you afterwards? Like you can see, I got caught in the rain, so—"

"No. I'd like you to come to my office right now."

"……"

In that moment, alarms started ringing in Seongwoo's head — and along with them, one line surfaced.

—Heading in? If I were you, I'd turn my phone off right now and go home, hyung.

Hajin's cocky voice — sounding as if he'd known all of this already — came back to him.

Rainwater he hadn't managed to towel off dripped, drop after drop, from the ends of Seongwoo's hair.

The water soaked its clammy way down his whole body and, in the end, pooled into a small puddle at his feet.

'What the hell is going on — fuck!'