The Scandal-Proof Producer

The war with OmniCorp was a strange, silent one, fought in lines of code and corrupted data packets. Yoo-jin's "analog" defense was holding, but it was inefficient and frustrating. Moving master files by hand and communicating via written notes felt archaic and slow, a constant, grinding reminder of the invisible enemy they were facing. They were losing precious days of preparation time for the Starlight Festival, and the stress was beginning to fray the team's nerves.

It was in the middle of a particularly frustrating afternoon, after a third attempt to transfer a simple audio file to the festival's broadcast team had resulted in corrupted data, that Yoo-jin received an unexpected visitor. Go Min-young announced it, her voice filled with surprise.

"CEO Han… Director Oh Seung-hwan from Stellar Entertainment is here to see you."

Yoo-jin was taken aback. He hadn't spoken to Director Oh since their tense, revelatory meeting about his daughter, Oh Min-ji. He had expected the man to retreat, to lick his wounds, perhaps even to harbor a new kind of resentment towards him for exposing the truth of his misguided ambitions.

When Director Oh was shown into his office, Yoo-jin was stunned by the man's transformation. The proud, almost arrogant corporate titan was gone. The desperate, hopeful pageant dad was also gone. The man who stood before him was humbled, his posture softer, his eyes clear and filled with a profound, weary gratitude.

"CEO Han," Director Oh began, bowing his head in a gesture of deep respect that was almost shocking coming from a man of his stature. "I apologize for arriving unannounced. I came to thank you."

Yoo-jin gestured for him to take a seat, still trying to process the shift in the man's demeanor.

"My daughter… Min-ji…" Director Oh's voice was thick with an emotion Yoo-jin couldn't quite place. "I had dinner with her last night. For the first time in years, she talked to me. Not as a trainee reporting to her benefactor, but as a daughter. She told me about the work she is doing for you. The market analysis. The strategic planning." He shook his head in wonder. "Her mind… it is like a beautiful, complex machine. She was alive, Han Yoo-jin. Engaged. Passionate. I haven't seen her that way since she was a little girl, before all this… this idol nonsense started."

He looked at Yoo-jin, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "You didn't just give her a job. You gave her back to me. You saw the person she truly was, not the person I was trying to force her to be. For that… I am in your debt. A debt I intend to repay."

Yoo-jin was silent, humbled by the raw sincerity of the man's confession.

"I know what you are facing," Director Oh continued, his voice lowering, shifting from personal to professional. "I know about Sofia Kang. I know about her backers on my own board. They see you as a threat to their pet project, this 'Nightingale' initiative." He confirmed the project's name, showing he was more informed than Yoo-jin had realized. "They will stop at nothing to see you fail at the festival. They want to discredit your methods, to prove that your 'human touch' is unreliable."

He leaned forward, a new, conspiratorial fire in his eyes. "I cannot oppose them openly. They are too powerful, and my own position is… complicated. But I have been on that board for twenty years. I have seen every dirty deal, every secret alliance, every hidden weakness. I know where the bodies are buried. Let me help you."

This was an unexpected gift. An ally on the inside of Stellar, motivated not by a transactional deal, but by genuine gratitude.

Director Oh provided Yoo-jin with a piece of information that was far more powerful than any technical analysis or media strategy. It was a story of human vulnerability.

"Sofia Kang presents herself as a flawless, data-driven visionary," Director Oh said, his voice a low murmur. "Her entire philosophy is built on the idea that algorithms are superior to the messy, unreliable human element. But her career in the United States was not as pristine as her official resume suggests."

He detailed a story that had been deeply and expensively buried. Three years prior, Sofia had been the executive producer on a highly anticipated debut album for a rising, immensely talented young pop star at a major American label. The album was a catastrophic commercial failure. It wasn't because the songs were bad. It was because the artist had a complete nervous breakdown midway through production and was unable to promote it.

"The reason was never made public," Director Oh explained, "but I have friends at that label. The girl was driven to the breaking point by Sofia's methods. Sofia didn't see her as an artist; she saw her as a data set to be optimized. She used biometric feedback in the studio, A/B tested lyrical phrases for emotional response, and pushed the girl through grueling sixteen-hour days, ignoring all signs of mental and physical exhaustion. She treated a human being like a machine, and the human being broke."

The artist had a breakdown, quit the industry entirely, and threatened a massive lawsuit. Sofia's consulting firm, the one she used for her side projects, had quietly settled for an enormous sum to bury the story and enforce a permanent non-disclosure agreement.

Yoo-jin was stunned. This was the ultimate hypocrisy. Sofia Kang, the champion of removing the "unreliable human element," had a history of literally breaking her human artists with her relentless, data-driven perfectionism. This was the skeleton in her closet. It was the perfect weapon, a devastating piece of leverage to be used if she ever tried a public move against him again. He now understood her obsession with Project Nightingale on a much deeper level. It wasn't just a business strategy; it was a desperate attempt to create a system that would never allow her to fail in the same way again. It was a response to her own past trauma as a producer.

He looked at Director Oh, a new sense of respect forming. His decision to treat Min-ji with humanity, to see her for who she really was instead of using her as a pawn, had yielded a far greater reward than he could have ever imagined. His act of compassion had unexpectedly forged a powerful new ally and delivered a devastating piece of leverage into his hands.

"Thank you, Director," Yoo-jin said, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. "This information is… very valuable."

"It is the first installment on my debt," Director Oh replied, standing to leave. "Protect my daughter, CEO Han. And in return, I will help you protect your company."

He left Yoo-jin alone in his office, the weight of the new information settling on him. While the new, shadowy threat of OmniCorp loomed like a distant storm cloud, his tactical position within the chaotic, immediate war at Stellar Entertainment had just become significantly stronger. He was no longer just a pawn in their civil war. He was becoming a kingmaker, building his own network of unlikely alliances, one act of genuine human connection at a time.