Lee Sung-min's mood was complex, unsure if she should trust what she saw.
This contract's terms were leagues better than her current company's.
But…
The president's demeanor made her doubt if it'd be honored.
"Any concerns?" Seeing her hesitate, mumbling without reasons, he put away the contract, smiling. "No rush to sign. We're team-building tonight. Join us!"
Inviting Clara to team-building, Yoon Hye-na called the restaurant to add one portion.
Tonight's venue, near the company, was an authentic Korean soy crab shop. Freshness demanded exact headcounts, or you'd risk short dishes.
By 4:30 PM, everyone was back at the company.
"Let's go." Lee Jin-woo clapped, leading the group to the jjimjilbang.
A flock of stunning women drew passersby's eyes.
Their svelte figures, flawless makeup, and bold styles screamed entertainment.
Some asked for photos, and they obliged.
Artists had to stay approachable, treating every fan with care.
Such candid encounters were rare PR gold.
"Arrived."
At the jjimjilbang, they registered, paid, and got wristbands.
Entry was under 20,000 won, but wristbands needed credits for in-house purchases.
Men and women split to shower and change into disposable attire.
They regrouped in the spacious hall, where scattered guests sat.
In small groups on the floor, snacking on sikhye, steamed eggs, and nibbles.
Koreans at jjimjilbangs had to eat steamed eggs.
No steamed egg? Like cola without ice—soulless.
"Clay room first, then we'll get food."
No one argued with Lee Jin-woo's call.
They entered the clay room, sitting or lying, savoring the sauna.
The clay room, the jjimjilbang's star, resembled a clay-kiln cave. Koreans believed it absorbed earthy essence, healthy and natural, pure bliss.
Lee Jin-woo was in bliss too.
Left, right—rows of long, fair legs.
The few hairy ones? Selectively ignored.
Loose clothes hid their svelte figures but not their radiant faces.
"Rep Yoon, introduce the new faces."
At his cue, recent hires stood neatly.
"Lee Sung-jae-ssi, Han Sook-ri-ssi, Oh Soo-hyun-ssi, Lee Ji-ya-ssi, our new management assistants…
Kim Sung-chae-ssi, artist management head… HR acting head, Jung Duk-ho-ssi… Bae Yoon-jung-ssi, our resident dance teacher. Others are outsourced to renowned instructors."
The company's framework was set but looked shabby next to established firms.
Body training, vocals, acting, styling—all outsourced to studios or top individuals.
Professional managers? Only Na Yoo-ran and Sung Ok-ri.
Manager Kim Sung-chae was tapping his network to recruit more.
Finance? Yoon Hye-na doubled as CFO.
Accounts were handled by a third party, cleared weekly, summarized monthly.
"Welcome to the Zy Plus family. Let's get along well…"
"Thank you, President. We'll work hard. Please guide us."
Bowing, they extended hands, and he shook each like an inspection.
Then, smiling, he invited them to relax.
"Unnie, your figure's insane!"
"No, yours! That waist, wow~ so tiny."
"Joo-joo, your legs are so long and straight. Work out a lot?"
"Yoga and Pilates, just catching on in the States… I'll teach you!"
As the women swapped training tips, the men, at Yoon Hye-na's hint, slipped out.
Spider pose, cicada, camel, ostrich, downward dog, goddess squat.
Warrior II, boat, bridge, one-leg wheel, lotus stretch, standing bow…
Hiss~
Who could handle this? Stay longer, and his pants would rip.
"Ahem~" Clearing his dry throat, he said, "Time's up. Let's rest, then head out."
A group of sweat-glistening beauties filed out.
Yoon Hye-na and two managers bought steamed eggs and drinks; others joined Lee Jin-woo by the wall, sitting in a circle.
"President, look at my arm—unnie pinched it red. It hurts!"
Son Yoon-joo, snug beside him, whined, showing her arm.
With Clara's arrival, her sense of crisis surged.
She had the best gigs and resources.
Proud, yet terrified of losing it all.
How to secure her spot?
Becoming "one of his" seemed the surest way.
But she wasn't the only one thinking that.
"Oppa~" Lee Joo-bin, on his right, hugged his arm publicly.
Her intimacy crossed normal boundaries.
"What now?" He looked exasperated.
"Any company plans? I wanna debut, make money for us~~"
Her sultry tone made the men shudder.
Too seductive.
"There will be… Since we're here, an announcement. Our first film's in production. So-hee, train harder. Get ready."
The sudden fortune dazed Han So-hee.
Why her?
Guiltily, she glanced at Lee Joo-bin, feeling like a thief.
Lee Joo-bin caught it.
What did she do? Her mind swirled with questions.
"Steamed eggs!" Yoon Hye-na arrived with eggs, managers passing drinks.
Crack~
An egg smashed on Han So-hee's head.
She yelped, "Ow, hurts!"
"Haha, steamed eggs taste best like this." Lee Joo-bin peeled the cracked egg, grinning.
Pouting, Han So-hee grabbed an egg.
"Ah~ Oppa, save me!" Lee Joo-bin hid behind him, using him as a shield.
Han So-hee froze, egg raised, embarrassed.
Her loose sleeve opened a grand white vista before him.
What a view!
"Ahem~" Coughing, he scolded sternly, "Stop it. What's this behavior? You're future stars, idols."
"Eat and shower. We're leaving." A gaggle of beauties was eye-catching enough.
Surrounding a handsome guy? Even more so.
People were staring, some snapping photos.
Keep this up, and "scandals" might haunt their debuts.
He didn't want blackmailers waving dirt later.
Back at the company, three nanny vans rolled out.
Han's Soy Crab, an unassuming roadside shop.
"Granny, we're here. 40 crabs."
"Welcome! It's prepping. Sit anywhere."
The headscarf-wearing, festively dressed granny beamed warmly.
A man and woman from the kitchen bustled, seating everyone.
Six square tables formed a long one, all sitting cross-legged.
Lee Jin-woo's sides were claimed by Ha Joo-hee and Lee Joo-bin, glued to him since entering.
The earlier thrill left Lee Joo-bin pensive—she wouldn't yield her spot.
But clearly, he wanted a pleasant dinner.
"Joo-joo, switch with Sung-min. I need to talk company rules."
Lee Joo-bin's eyes reddened, heart aching.
"Why not her?" She wanted to point at Ha Joo-hee, that vixen, and demand answers.
But she swallowed her grievances, switching.
Oppa didn't like clingy girls. She had to be mature, not trouble him.
Work—it was all for work.
She refused to admit "take for granted" applied.
Admitting it meant losing even the hope to try.
"Sung-min, how's it feel?"
"Great. Thank you, President, for the treat. A toast."
Clara politely poured, about to stand.
He grabbed her wrist. "Sit. It's team-building, not the office. No formalities. Drink like this."
Seeing this, others cheered, "Thank you, President! Shall we toast him?"
"Sure, but… unnie, shouldn't it be a cross-arm toast for sincerity?" Lee Yeon-jung teased.
As her friend, she hoped Clara could…
"Whoa~" The crowd chanted, "Cross-arm, cross-arm!"
Clara blushed, her cup inching toward him, clearly agreeing.
A 60-year-old creep was harassment; a hot oppa like him was charm.
Even his neck tattoo, still unsettling, didn't quell her stirring impulses.
This damn lookist society—too good.
Lee Jin-woo loved beauty-worshippers. For him, it was a blessing, a blessing!
(End of Chapter)