The Scandal-Proof Producer

Han Yoo-jin walked into the bright, new Aura Management office the next morning feeling like a ghost. A powerful painkiller was doing its best to mute the throbbing ache in his ribs, but it couldn't touch the cold, grim reality that had settled in his mind. He had used makeup to cover the large, purplish bruise that was forming on his cheekbone, but he knew he couldn't hide the stiff, pained way he moved.

The moment he entered, the cheerful, busy atmosphere died. The team, fresh off their recent victories and full of creative energy for the new album, stopped what they were doing. Their smiles faded, replaced by looks of confusion and then alarm.

"CEO Han? Are you okay?" Go Min-young asked, her voice filled with immediate concern. "You're walking… strangely."

Ahn Da-eun's sharp eyes missed nothing. Her gaze swept over him, noting his pale face, the unnatural stiffness of his posture, and the faint, poorly concealed discoloration on his cheek. Her expression hardened. "What happened to you?" she demanded, her voice low and direct.

Yoo-jin knew there was no point in lying. Hiding the truth would only make them more vulnerable. He called them all into the new conference area, including Kevin Riley, who looked on with a worried confusion. He closed the door.

"Last night, after I left the office, I was attacked in the parking garage," he said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. He decided to omit the details of his rescue by Director Yoon; that was a complication, a debt, that was his alone to bear for now. He gave them the sanitized version. "There were two of them. They were professionals. They made it clear it was a 'message' from Stellar Entertainment."

The reaction was a wave of shock and horror that washed over the room. Min-young gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. Kevin, who had only been in Korea for a handful of days, looked utterly terrified, the reality of the corporate war he had been pulled into suddenly becoming brutally physical. Da-eun's fear, as always, manifested as a cold, simmering fury.

"They're animals," she said, her voice shaking with rage. "They sent thugs after you? This isn't business anymore. This is… this is insane."

"Exactly," Yoo-jin said, his voice hard as steel. He pushed through the pain in his ribs and stood up straighter, commanding the room. "Which means we can no longer afford to act like a simple startup. We can no longer pretend we are just a small company making music. We are at war. And we need to fortify our castle. Immediately."

The celebratory atmosphere of the past few days was gone, replaced by the grim focus of a council of war. Yoo-jin turned to the large whiteboard, erased the optimistic album rollout plan, and began to outline their new reality.

"First," he began, his marker squeaking against the board, "Physical security. Effective immediately, no one travels home alone after dark. Not from the office, not from the studio, not from anywhere. We will use a designated, vetted car service for all late-night schedules. I don't care about the cost."

He looked at each of them. "I am hiring a security company this afternoon. They will be installing new, high-grade locks on this office. We'll have a keycard access system. They will also be installing a comprehensive CCTV system covering this entire floor, the elevators, and the parking garage. We will have eyes everywhere."

"Second," he continued, "Personal security." He looked at Da-eun, who was now their most public face. "Da-eun, when you go out in public from now on, you will have security with you. For now, it will be me or Ji-won. Once the album money comes in, we will hire a professional." He then looked at all of them. "And I am bringing in a consultant. An ex-military security specialist. He will give us all a mandatory briefing on situational awareness, basic self-defense, and how to spot if you're being followed."

"And third," he said, turning to Ji-won. "Digital security. The Viper's attacks proved our digital flank is exposed. Ji-won, I'm authorizing you to hire an outside cybersecurity firm. I want this office swept for listening devices, both physical and digital. I want our entire network upgraded with the best firewalls money can buy. All company communications from this moment forward will be conducted on encrypted messaging apps. No more casual KakaoTalk messages about schedules or song lyrics."

He put the cap back on his marker and turned to face them. The scale of what he was proposing was immense. It was the security protocol of a major corporation, not a five-person indie label.

Min-young, ever the practical one, looked at the list on the whiteboard with wide, worried eyes. "CEO Han… this is… this is going to be incredibly expensive. This is all the money we were going to use for the album promotion. For the showcase."

"There is no album if we aren't safe enough to produce it," Yoo-jin said firmly, his gaze unwavering. "There is no showcase if our lead artist is being stalked. This is not a choice. This is a non-negotiable investment in our survival."

The team was silent, the weight of the new reality settling upon them. Their dream job, their creative sanctuary, had suddenly become a fortress under siege. The carefree days of simply making music together were over. With grim, determined faces, they all nodded in agreement.

The attack, and the subsequent security lockdown, had a profound and immediate effect on the artists. Kevin, already an anxious person in a foreign land, became more withdrawn and jumpy, rarely leaving the relative safety of the office. But for Da-eun and the newly-arrived Seo-yeon, who had already been through the crucible of the K-Pop system, the tangible, physical threat seemed to galvanize them in an unexpected way.

Their practice sessions took on a new, ferocious intensity. Every note Da-eun sang was imbued with a fresh layer of defiance. Every lyric Seo-yeon practiced was delivered with a powerful, steely resolve. Their upcoming showcase was no longer just a concert to share their music; it was an act of rebellion. It was a raised middle finger to the people who were trying to scare them into silence.

During a practice break a few days later, as Yoo-jin watched them, Da-eun walked over, a towel around her neck, her face determined. "We can't let them scare us," she said, her voice low and fierce, more like a co-conspirator than an employee. "We can't let them win by making us afraid. The best revenge is to become so successful, so powerful, that they can never touch us again."

Yoo-jin looked at her, then at Seo-yeon, who was nodding in agreement beside her. He felt a surge of pride so strong it momentarily eclipsed the ache in his ribs. He had built this team, this family. He had protected them. But he also knew, with a heavy certainty, that he was the reason the threat existed. He had dragged them into a much more dangerous world than they had ever signed up for. His responsibility felt immense, a physical weight on his shoulders. Fortifying the castle was a good first step, but he knew it wasn't enough. Defense alone didn't win wars.