The Scandal-Proof Producer

The moment Lee Seo-yeon posed her devastatingly innocent question on live television, a shockwave emanated from Studio 3, traveling outwards at the speed of light. On the set of "Star Secrets," MC Park Hee-jin was floundering, her professional composure shattered. She tried to pivot, to ask another question, but the damage was done. The producers, shouting frantically into her earpiece from the control room, made the call to cut to a commercial break with jarring abruptness, leaving the image of Seo-yeon's tear-streaked, confused face seared into the public's mind.

In the Aura Management office, the stunned silence lasted for a single, charged beat, and then the room erupted.

"She did it!" Go Min-young screamed, leaping from her chair and pumping her fists in the air. "Oh my God, she was perfect! She was absolutely perfect!"

Kang Ji-won, a man whose emotional range typically spanned from stoic to grim, let out a rare, loud, barking laugh. "She didn't just dodge the bullet," he said, shaking his head in disbelief and admiration. "She caught the damned thing in her teeth and spat it right back at them."

Ahn Da-eun was staring at the now-dark screen, a slow, dangerous smile spreading across her face. "So that's what it looks like when you fight back," she murmured, a newfound respect for both Seo-yeon and their CEO dawning in her eyes.

Han Yoo-jin leaned back in his chair, a profound sense of relief washing over him, so potent it almost made him dizzy. The gamble, the insane, high-wire act he had coached Seo-yeon through, had worked better than he could have possibly imagined. He had trusted her, and she had delivered a performance more powerful than any song. He focused his ability on the frozen image of her on the screen one last time. [Lee Seo-yeon Status: Vindicated. Public Perception: Sympathetic Victim of Industry Exploitation. Future Potential: Significantly Increased.] The plan hadn't just saved him; it had launched her.

Then, the digital world detonated.

Yoo-jin's laptop, which was open to a real-time social media tracker, began to look like the monitor of a system that was critically overloading. The hashtag #WhoIsTheCastingDirector exploded, becoming the number one trending topic in Korea in less than five minutes. It was followed swiftly by #LeeSeoYeon_BeBrave and #TheDarkSideofKPop. The public conversation wasn't about whether Han Yoo-jin was a predator; it was a furious, nationwide witch hunt for the anonymous woman who had tried to exploit an innocent young artist.

The comment sections of news portals and fan cafes were a wildfire of outrage.

"This is sick! Who was that woman who tried to force her to lie? Someone needs to find her!"

"I always knew the industry was dirty, but this is a whole other level of evil. Using a girl's dream against her like that."

"Lee Seo-yeon is so brave for speaking out! Aura Management needs to protect her at all costs!"

"Wait, so the rumors about Han Yoo-jin were all fake? Planted by this same person? This is insane!"

The narrative hadn't just been neutralized. It had been inverted with spectacular force.

The scene cut rapidly, showing the fallout in the enemy camps. In the opulent office at Stellar Entertainment, Director Kang Min-hyuk was roaring at his monitor, his face a mask of purple fury. "What is this?! How did this happen?! She was supposed to cry about him abandoning her! She was supposed to bury him!"

Choi Jin-wook stood nearby, pale and sweating, frantically scrolling through news articles on his tablet. "Sir, the narrative has completely flipped! They're not calling him a predator anymore, they're calling Han Yoo-jin a 'guardian angel' for protecting his former trainees even after he left the company! The public is demanding a full investigation into predatory casting practices in the industry! Several politicians have already made statements!"

Kang, in a fit of pure, impotent rage, grabbed his own expensive tablet and hurled it against the far wall, where it shattered into a thousand pieces. "Get Nam Gyu-ri on the phone! Now!" he shrieked.

The scene shifted to The Viper's sleek, silent office. She was watching the chaos unfold on a bank of monitors, her face a mask of cold, controlled fury. Her perfect plan had not only failed; it had backfired in the most public and humiliating way possible. She had handed her enemy a story of heroism and martyrdom on a silver platter. Her phone rang. She saw it was Director Kang and declined the call with a contemptuous flick of her finger. She had no time for his hysterical screaming. She needed to analyze, to understand her miscalculation.

[The Viper's Current Thoughts: Tactical error. I underestimated the girl's ability to perform under pressure. And I severely underestimated Han Yoo-jin's strategic thinking. He did not just defend. He did not just counter-attack. He absorbed the momentum of my own strategy and used it to elevate his own brand to a new level. He is not just a nuisance. He is a genuine rival. The game must now be escalated beyond media play. A new paradigm is required.]

She had tried a whisper campaign. It had failed. She had tried a plagiarism scandal. It had failed and created a new artist for his label. She had tried a character assassination. It had failed and turned him into a national hero. Her usual weapons—rumor, doubt, and manipulation—were useless against him. He was like a fighter who could see every punch coming before it was thrown. Frustration, a rare and unpleasant emotion for her, began to simmer.

The final piece of the detonation sequence landed back in the Aura Management office. Yoo-jin's phone rang. It was Lee Seo-yeon, calling from a waiting room at the broadcast station. She was crying, but this time, her tears were of pure, unadulterated relief.

"Did I do okay, CEO Han?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"You were incredible, Seo-yeon," he told her, a genuine warmth and pride in his voice. "You were braver than anyone I know. You told your truth, and the world listened."

"What… what do I do now?" she asked, the uncertainty of her future still hanging over her. "That OST audition… it was never real, was it?"

"No," Yoo-jin said softly. "It wasn't. But I have a real one for you." He paused, letting the weight of his next words settle. "Lee Seo-yeon. I would like to formally offer you a contract with Aura Management. You don't have to audition. The whole country just saw what you can do. Welcome to the team. You're our second official artist."

On the other end of the line, Seo-yeon's quiet sob turned into a sound of pure, unadulterated joy. It was the sound of a dream, long thought dead, finally being resurrected. Han Yoo-jin had not just saved his own reputation. In the process, he had officially launched a new star.