DSWM 20👻

Episode 20

The afternoon meeting, organized by Onjo Foods’ marketing team along with the ad agency staff, was in full swing. The focus: an ad presentation for an upcoming diet meal replacement product soon to be launched domestically.

At the far end of the long table—where the view of the screen was best—sat Hyunjae, receiving reports from each team in turn.

“Since Executive Director Ki Hyunjae appeared on our company’s official channel last quarter, and the footage was later edited into short-form videos of under a minute, related product sales increased by 53% compared to the same period last year. That’s more effective than using one of Korea’s hottest celebrities as a model. Since the target demographic for this new product is also the younger 20–30 MZ generation, if you and the president both appeared in the ads, the effect would be multiplied. This could be Onjo’s chance to finally shed its image as a perennial second place…”

The PPT slides, filled with press releases, colorful graphs, and charts, looked polished enough. But the content itself failed to strike any chord with Hyunjae. Every single idea centered on using him for marketing.

Even the promotional storyboard clearly intended to highlight his face more than the actual product.

When a photoshopped image flashed on the screen—his hand holding the new product instead of the ramen he originally held—Hyunjae’s brow furrowed slightly.

Only Myungjun, seated next to him, noticed that subtle shift.

Before Myungjun could signal the presenter to change slides, Hyunjae’s low voice cut through the room:

“What if I don’t want to shoot that ad?”

“…Pardon?”

“You do have an alternative plan ready, don’t you?”

One of the team leaders, not grasping the true meaning hidden beneath Hyunjae’s pleasant tone and faint smile, started, “But sir, if even the president approved of this, why would you…” He trailed off when the colleague next to him pinched his side—because Hyunjae had just added:

“Then the president can appear alone, can’t he?”

Hyunjae fixed his gaze squarely on the team leader who’d slipped.

“Go ahead. Convince me. Why should I do the ad when you already have better model candidates?”

The flustered man tried again: “As I mentioned earlier, your previous appearance drew unexpected buzz, even interview requests—public interest in you is growing, and it feels fresh to the audience—”

“That public attention has only made my life more troublesome. What’s next?”

“…Also, not just this project, but the president is watching the China factory plan you’re preparing. We believe your position in the company will…”

Hyunjae’s laugh cut him short.

“Ha. Considering even my position in this company. How thoughtful of you.”

His tone carried the sneer of Since when does a mouse care about a cat’s wellbeing?

The team leader quickly lowered his head. “I’m sorry.”

Hyunjae slowly swept his gaze across the room—over the agency employees and the senior managers who were fidgeting with papers, avoiding his eyes.

“Don’t think you can brush this off with an apology. Bring me the original plan your team had prepared.”

“…Sorry?”

“This is the president’s idea, isn’t it? Don’t waste effort trying to dress up that half-baked plan. Bring me what you were originally working on.”

They froze. He had known all along.

For them it was one thing to comply, but for him to call the Onjo president’s suggestion “half-baked” without hesitation? That was something else.

“Tell him I refused. That’s exactly what your position is for.”

With that, Hyunjae rose. Chairs screeched as everyone hurried to stand as well. When some team leaders tried to follow him out, he waved them back. Only Myungjun trailed after.

Hyunjae’s broad shoulders and expansive back seemed to demand attention with every step, and Myungjun, watching that impeccable figure, was reminded yet again how foul his boss’s mood had been lately.

These days, Hyunjae spoke as if his words bypassed his brain entirely.

Myungjun recalled what had happened the previous evening at the Gi family home.

Hyunjae had finally attended dinner at the family residence after repeatedly ignoring his father Seongjun’s summons. In the dining room sat Hyunjae, Ra-young, Seongjun, and Hyunjae’s half-sister Hyuna. Secretaries waited in an adjoining room, ready to respond at once.

As usual, the family meal passed in silence—until Seongjun finally spoke:

“Clear your schedule for Sunday at six.”

“Why?” Hyunjae’s brow arched.

“You’re not getting younger. I’ve waited long enough. If you don’t have anyone, I’ll arrange a meeting with a suitable young lady from a good family.”

Hyunjae calmly cut his steak into smaller pieces, juices pooling on the plate.

“And who’d accept an alcoholic junkie who can’t keep it in his pants?”

“I’ll handle it. Once you meet her, you’ll change your mind.”

“Well, I suppose you do have some expertise in that area—considering how you met my stepmother.”

His tone dripped with mockery aimed at Ra-young.

“Gi Hyunjae!” Seongjun slammed the table, making Ra-young and Hyuna flinch. Hyunjae alone remained unfazed, the air chilling instantly.

“Shall I share a secret?”

He slowly swirled the wine in his glass.

“It doesn’t get up.”

“…What?”

“They say like father, like son. Guess I still have a long way to go before I match you. Maybe I should borrow some of your pills. What’s the trick?”

Seongjun’s trembling hands betrayed his barely contained rage.

“Your reputation is bad enough already. One more rumor and—”

“All the better. Try setting up that meeting. I’ll give her a night she won’t forget.”

Ra-young interjected quickly: “Hyunjae, your father worries about you more than you think—”

“Thank you.”

Hyunjae bowed his head deeply, as if kneeling. But the gesture reeked of mockery rather than gratitude.

Ra-young held her ground.

“I know you still can’t accept me. Your mother’s death was traumatic—”

“Stop. You’re ruining my appetite.”

His tender tone clashed with the contempt twisting his face, and Ra-young recoiled slightly. Pale Hyuna continued chewing the same piece of steak she’d had for ten minutes.

After Hyunjae left the dining room, no one touched their food again.

Back in the present, Myungjun sighed unconsciously.

If he could be this cutting with his own family, how much harsher would he be with outsiders?

For a time, after Yeo-reum entered his life, things had seemed to improve. But lately, he had reverted to his worst—perhaps even taking it out on her.

Poor Ms. Yeo-reum. In just over a week she’d be accompanying Hyunjae on his China trip in Myungjun’s place. He pitied her already.

Four years ago, when Hyunjae first entered Onjo as overseas business team leader, Myungjun too had thought him a kind, warm superior. He’d even defended him against whispers of favoritism.

Had he not become Hyunjae’s secretary and seen his true self firsthand, he too would still be fooled by that polished smile.

“Secretary Choi.”

“Ah—yes.” Myungjun snapped out of his thoughts, startled.

Even Hyunjae couldn’t read minds, but still, Myungjun’s voice betrayed his nervousness.

“Ms. Ryu Yeo-reum’s ticket is economy class. Is that the usual practice?”

“Yes, since the budget set for interpreters is limited—”

“Change it to the same as mine.”

“…Sorry?”

“Upgrade her to business class.”