The boardroom was filled with murmurs and tense whispers as Kang Joon-ho took his seat at the long mahogany table. His uncle, Kang Sung-ho, sat at the head of the table, his expression unreadable. The other board members, a mix of seasoned veterans and ambitious younger executives, exchanged glances of uncertainty and disapproval.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Kang Sung-ho began, clearing his throat, "it's time for new blood to take over. As of today, I am stepping down as CEO of IMFG, and my nephew, Kang Joon-ho, will assume the position."
Silence followed. Then, all at once, the boardroom erupted.
"Chairman Kang, with all due respect, Joon-ho has no experience running a company of this magnitude!" one board member protested.
"This is reckless. IMFG is already struggling to maintain its position in the industry. We need stability, not an experiment," another added, shaking his head.
"He’s barely done anything in the company! If anything, his track record suggests he’s more interested in partying than running a corporation."
Joon-ho listened in silence, his fingers lightly tapping against the armrest of his chair. He expected resistance—after all, from their perspective, he was just a rich chaebol heir who had been thrust into power with no prior experience. What they didn’t know was that he wasn’t the same Kang Joon-ho they had always known. His soul, his consciousness, belonged to a man from twenty years in the future.
He had lived as a regular worker—mover, KTV waiter, office drone—struggling through life paycheck to paycheck. And now, in this new life, he had knowledge of what was to come. The trends, the collapses, the rise and fall of brands. If played right, he could turn this struggling company into a dominant force.
He took a deep breath and finally spoke. "I understand your concerns, gentlemen. IMFG is not in an ideal situation right now. But my uncle’s decision stands, and I intend to prove that I am more than capable of leading this company to success. If anyone here doubts my ability, then let’s reconvene in three months. If I fail, I will step down myself."
His words made some of the board members pause. He could see the wheels turning in their minds. Three months. That was all they needed to gauge whether he would sink or swim.
"Enough!" Kang Sung-ho's voice cut through the noise. "The decision has been made. This meeting is over."
The board members left, some shaking their heads, others casting Joon-ho skeptical glances. Kang Sung-ho walked past him without another word, leaving Joon-ho alone to process the moment.
With a sigh, he stood up and made his way to the CEO's office—the office that was now his.
---
The large, luxurious space was overwhelming. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the heart of Seoul, the skyline a mixture of steel and glass that shimmered under the midday sun. A massive desk sat at the center, stacked with folders and reports.
Joon-ho sat down and ran a hand through his hair. "Alright," he muttered to himself, "let’s see what kind of mess I’ve inherited."
He opened the topmost folder and skimmed through it. Financial reports, project delays, talent acquisition issues—the company was bleeding money. Worse, none of the models under contract were anywhere near A-list status. If they wanted to survive, they needed a major deal with a luxury brand.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.
"Come in."
Park Yeon-jin, the Director of Marketing, stepped in. She was stunning, even in her mid-thirties—elegant, poised, a former A-list celebrity who had transitioned into the business side of the industry.
"CEO Kang," she addressed him formally, "I wanted to inform you that we have an urgent meeting with a major luxury brand in two days. They want to discuss a partnership. If we secure this, it could be a turning point for IMFG."
Joon-ho nodded, straightening in his chair. "Which brand?"
"Saint Regis. Their regional director will be visiting Seoul, and they’ve agreed to meet with us. However, they have high expectations. They want to work with top-tier talent, and right now, we don’t have that."
Joon-ho exhaled slowly. "Then we need to convince them that we do. What exactly are they looking for?"
Yeon-jin crossed her arms, her expression serious. "They’re expanding their presence in Asia and need a partner that can provide a seamless blend of high fashion and celebrity influence. Their main focus is on their upcoming jewelry and haute couture campaign. They want models who can embody both elegance and exclusivity. Their usual roster includes global A-listers—think Celeste Laurent, Min So-hee, and Lian Ruiwen. The problem is, we don’t have anyone even close to their level."
"What about local talent?" Joon-ho asked. "There are rising stars in Korea that could be a good fit."
"I’ve already compiled a shortlist," she said, pulling out her tablet and swiping through images. "Most of them are promising, but none have the star power Saint Regis expects. Their standards are incredibly high. They want a name that can bring international attention."
Joon-ho drummed his fingers on the desk. "Is there any way we can leverage an existing relationship with a top model? Someone willing to do a one-time campaign to boost our brand’s credibility?"
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
Yeon-jin thought for a moment before nodding. "There is one option—Ji-an."
His brow furrowed. "Ji-an?"
"Seo Ji-an. She used to be one of the biggest models in Korea before she went on an indefinite hiatus. If we can convince her to make a comeback under our label, Saint Regis might take us seriously."
"What’s her situation now?"
"Low profile. She hasn’t done any campaigns in nearly two years. But if anyone can bring her back into the spotlight, it’s us."
Joon-ho leaned back, considering it. "Set up a meeting with her."
"Understood. I’ll reach out through her manager."
"Good." He glanced at the piles of documents on his desk. "What else?"
Yeon-jin smiled. "You need a secretary. And not just anyone. Your predecessor’s assistants barely lasted a month each. You need someone competent who can handle pressure."
She handed him a file. "I shortlisted a few candidates. You’ll want to look through them before deciding."
Joon-ho flipped through the pages.
* 1. Lee Hana: Former executive assistant at a major finance firm. Highly efficient, but strict and by-the-book. Could be difficult to work with.
* 2. Choi Min-seo: Worked in PR for a top fashion house. Excellent connections and social skills but has a history of switching jobs frequently.
* 3. Yoo Seul-bi: Young but lacked high level experience. Former personal assistant to failed upstart CEO. Experience in crisis management and handling people.
* 4. Kang Ji-won: Military background. Disciplined, no-nonsense attitude. Could be an asset in managing chaotic situations.
* Many more.....
Yeon-jin watched as he skimmed through the names. "I can arrange interviews tomorrow. Any preferences?"
Joon-ho set the folder down. "Let’s see them all first. But I have a feeling I already know who I’m looking for."
Yeon-jin raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. "I’ll schedule them. In the meantime, focus on Saint Regis. We need to make a strong impression."
"We will," Joon-ho said confidently. "This deal is just the beginning."
---
As Yeon-jin left, Joon-ho leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. His mind drifted, searching through the fragments of memories that felt both distant and familiar. Among them, a name surfaced—Seo Ji-an.
She had once been everywhere. The lead singer of a top idol group, a face that adorned luxury brand campaigns, a star on the rise. Everyone had believed she was destined for even greater heights. And then, as quickly as she had soared, she disappeared.
Joon-ho closed his eyes, letting the details come back to him. Seo Ji-an had lost her voice—an injury, an illness, he couldn’t quite recall the specifics, but it had shattered her career. Unable to sing, she became a liability to her agency. Instead of standing by her, they had cut her loose. Her so-called best friend, another member of her group, had turned on her, feeding the media a narrative that painted Ji-an as difficult, unreliable, and ungrateful. The other members followed suit, distancing themselves until she was left with nothing. The industry moved on without her, and Ji-an vanished from the public eye.
But that wasn’t the end of her story.
Joon-ho knew that in five years, Seo Ji-an would return. She would step into the film industry, proving herself not just as an actress but as a phenomenon. Her beauty, her elegance, her sheer presence would make her one of the most sought-after stars of her generation. She would dominate both the silver screen and the fashion world, securing contracts with the biggest luxury brands. Designers would compete to dress her, magazines would feature her on their covers, and the very same industry that abandoned her would crawl back, desperate to claim they had always believed in her.
Yet, in those future whispers of success, there had been one common regret—if only she had come back sooner.
Joon-ho exhaled slowly, tapping his fingers against the desk. His company was bleeding, in desperate need of a star. The kind of star Seo Ji-an was meant to be. If he could bring her back early—if he could give her the right stage to reclaim everything she had lost—IMFG could rise with her.
The idea was tempting, but the obstacles were obvious. She had been humiliated, cast aside, and forgotten. If she had any sense, she would be wary of trusting anyone from this industry again. And yet, there was one thing Joon-ho remembered clearly.
Her manager had stayed loyal.
While the world turned its back on Ji-an, one person had remained by her side. That was the key. If Joon-ho wanted to reach her, that was where he had to start.
A slow smirk curved his lips.
"Interesting," he murmured.
This was a gamble. A risky one. But if it paid off, IMFG wouldn’t just survive—it would dominate. And Seo Ji-an would take her rightful place at the top, not five years from now, but today.
Now, all he had to do was find her.