"Hyung, any last instructions?"
Jo Young-joon called from the airport, about to board his New York flight.
"Follow Goldman Sachs' lead, stay safe… Don't go thrill-seeking in slums."
Lee Jin-woo didn't want to hear about robberies or worse over the phone.
They were here to reap wealth, not lose lives.
"Hyung, you can doubt my character, but not my taste."
In the States, he'd party hard, but why would he care about Brooklyn's riffraff? Upper East and West Sides were his scene.
Or maybe Long Island, mingling with faded aristocrats' daughters—that was his vibe.
"Watch out for grumpy dads blasting your little bird."
"Depends on how professional GS's VIP security is."
"Be careful. I'll wait for your victory party."
"Ye~ I'll bring back fat stacks as your birthday gift."
Watching the plane fade into the sky, Lee Jin-woo turned to Lee Joo-bin on the sofa.
"Think you can handle it?"
For her exceptional effort last night, he'd give her a shot.
She outshone Son Yoon-joo by miles.
No contest—newbies were too green, all flair, no stamina.
Seasoned players, well-worn, got better with time. One word: smooth.
Under relentless thrills, Lee Joo-bin shed restraint, diving into the "landlord" game.
He played this hand masterfully.
Now, she deserved a reward, or where'd he find such a perfect partner next time?
"I can." Her complex mood found some solace.
At least she secured the role she wanted.
Though her part was smaller than Han So-hee's, there'd be countless chances later.
Plus…
If she could drag Han So-hee into the "landlord" game, wouldn't President Oppa favor her more?
She wasn't content—why should Han So-hee get it easy when she fought so hard?
She'd pull her down, leveling the field.
Seeing her stubborn, resentful gaze, Lee Jin-woo anticipated fun days ahead.
Ding-dong!
The doorbell rang. Lee Joo-bin dashed out, curious.
She returned, expression odd, Yoon Hye-na trailing with groceries.
"President, soup rice for breakfast okay?"
"Hm, three portions. One more inside."
"…Got it. I'll prep."
Yoon Hye-na's face was blank, betraying nothing.
"Oppa, is Rep Yoon really just your neighbor?"
"You saw it." He chuckled. "Check on Yoon-joo. Time to wake."
Lee Joo-bin pouted, eyes scheming as she tiptoed into the room.
"Eek!"
Amid shrill panic, she bolted out, cackling, clutching a blue-white checkered bedsheet, its peach blossoms glaringly vivid.
"Lee Joo-bin, yah~!" Son Yoon-joo, in a white shirt, chased like a madwoman.
They tumbled onto the carpet, rolling like kids.
Son Yoon-joo, more determined, snatched the plum-stained sheet, bundling it and tossing it in the trash.
When Lee Joo-bin lunged for it, Lee Jin-woo snapped, "Yah~ Need a lesson?"
She spun, sprawling on the carpet, chin propped, cooing seductively, "Oppa~"
Aish, can't even eat breakfast in peace.
Fanning the flames, he disciplined them both. Red-faced, they sat meekly at the table.
Keep it up, and they'd face a real thrashing.
Then, things would get messy.
[Shared a future vision, boosting company cohesion. Reward issued.]
[Super Cohesion: Signed employees gain strong loyalty and responsibility, resisting temptation to betray.]
Yesterday's team-building was a solid start.
Now, last night's winnings from the "landlord" game.
[A true big brother manipulates hearts.]
[Using simple tactics to spark women's competitiveness and vanity, achieving your goals and reaping sweet experiences. Reward calculating.]
[Strong Kidneys: Sweet experiences stem from inner power. Strong kidneys—man's pride, aha!]
What's this cringey description? Good thing no one else saw.
He'd have to flee the planet.
"Shibal, act normal!" He facepalmed.
Seeing his reaction, Yoon Hye-na asked, "What's wrong, President? Food not good?"
"No, food's fine. Just work stuff—headache." He dodged fast.
The system's chuuni antics—he didn't want to think about it.
"It's Ji-eun, right?" Lee Joo-bin munched, casual.
He paused. "What's with Ji-eun?"
"She's super stressed. Short training before debut, so she's all jittery… Worried about her health, aish."
"Aish?" Yoon Hye-na's brow twitched, glaring.
Lee Joo-bin realized this wasn't a friend's hangout.
"Ah~ Mianhaeyo." She apologized, head bowed, eating quietly.
"Rep Yoon, how's Ji-eun's health?"
Yoon Hye-na softened. "Ne, she's mentally strained, but… I'll handle it."
"Hm, proper guidance and relaxation are key. We need a healthy singer, not a nutcase."
"Ne~" She nodded, vowing to prioritize it.
Over the next few days, Lee Jin-woo dove into the script.
He met CJ's editorial team, launching formal talks.
Total investment: 40 billion won. Zy Entertainment funded 20 billion, securing 43% via funds and script.
CJ E&M covered the rest, handling production, promotion, and distribution.
"Jin-woo, why're you always the one profiting? My turn, no?" Son Kyung-sik sighed post-signing.
"Three Inches, I gave up my editing rights, all of them…"
In Korea, editors wielded insane power. An idea could spark talks with a network.
They'd decide if it's viable, then shape the script.
Once greenlit, editors picked directors, actors—even extras.
Top editors could choose filming locations.
Pay was stellar—20 million won per episode for A-listers.
But every industry had tiers, especially in Korea's rigid hierarchy.
Reaching the top was like tightrope-walking.
"Aigoo, I'm a newbie. Script got approved, but newbies get no rights."
"Not just approved—highly praised." He corrected Son's wording.
"Aish~" Son crossed his arms, fuming. "Is this the time? Let Three Inches win once, just once."
"Three Inches, it's my debut work, and Zy's paying."
"Where'd you get 20 billion? Heard Jo Young-joon took all your cash."
Aish, so many people cared?
Lee Jin-woo nearly laughed. Since when was he this important?
"I'll manage. Worst case, there's equity."
Leaving CJ, he glanced at the bustling lobby, chuckling.
Aish~
Were these guys itching to see his drama?
Fine—watch. It might just blow their minds.
Buzz~
"Hey, Jo Young-joon, all smooth?"
Driving back to Seoul, he headed to the hotel. "Is Rep Lee Boo-jin here?"
"Please wait, I'll contact her." The receptionist reached for the phone.
"Forget it, I'll call." He dialed her. Waiting for front-desk relays? Too slow.
His schedule was tight; he needed to wrap this up.
"Nuna! At the hotel… Came for you… How could I…"
"Cool, I'll wait in the lobby."
Lee Boo-jin had a meeting, free in half an hour.
Bored, he used the lobby computer to check news.
April this year, the subprime crisis surfaced. Last month, the Fed injected liquidity to boost confidence.
U.S. stocks held high, everything rosy.
Blind faith in the Fed and market greed delayed the lethal mine's explosion by a year.
Now, the market hyped that the subprime crisis was history.
Haha…
He slapped the desk, laughing. Too funny.
"Jin-woo, what's so amusing?"
Lee Boo-jin, just arrived, peeked at the screen, smiling. "Celebrating too?"
His grin faded, realizing no one saw the looming threat.
Yeah, until the mine blew, who'd think they'd get shredded?
(End of Chapter)