The Scandal-Proof Producer

The next day, a new, unfamiliar energy permeated the Aura Management office. Kim Jin-hyuk walked through the front door, not as a secret visitor, but as a new member of the family. He looked different from the confident idol Yoo-jin had met the night before. The rage had cooled, leaving behind a man who was hollowed out but imbued with a grim, focused purpose. He was a man walking through the ashes of his own artistic identity, looking for a weapon.

The team, having been briefed by Yoo-jin on the outcome of the meeting, greeted him with a quiet, respectful solemnity. There were no platitudes, no overly effusive words of welcome. Da-eun gave him a firm, supportive nod. Chae-rin offered a small, empathetic smile. Go Min-young poured him a cup of coffee without a word. They understood, on a fundamental level, that he was not just a new artist; he was a refugee, a survivor of the very enemy they were fighting. His presence made the war real.

Yoo-jin gathered them in the conference room. The atmosphere was charged, electric with a new, more dangerous sense of urgency.

"OmniCorp is launching Kai in four weeks," Yoo-jin began, his voice cutting through the tension. "They are coming to the battlefield, and they are coming fast. We can't afford to be reactive. We cannot let them be the ones who define the conversation. We need to move faster, be bolder. Another single, even one as successful as 'Echo & Roar,' won't be enough to counter the media storm they're about to unleash."

He paused, his eyes sweeping across the faces of his artists. Ahn Da-eun, the fiery queen of authentic rock. Park Chae-rin, the ethereal, haunting ghost. And now, Kim Jin-hyuk, the stolen soul. Three distinct, powerful, and wounded artistic identities. An idea, born from the crucible of their shared crisis, an idea so bold it bordered on insane, took shape in his mind.

"We're not going to release another single," Yoo-jin declared, the conviction in his voice silencing the room. "We are going to do something no one expects. Something their algorithms could never predict. We are going to form a project group. A one-time, limited-run supergroup. The three of you."

He pointed to Da-eun, then Chae-rin, then Jin.

The announcement was met with stunned silence. The three artists looked at each other, the implications of the proposal washing over them.

Da-eun was the first to find her voice, her expression a mixture of skepticism and intrigue. "A supergroup? With us? CEO-nim, have you heard us? I'm rock, she's… something from a dream, and he's…" she gestured at Jin, "...a polished K-pop idol with a hidden indie heart. The styles would clash into a complete mess."

Chae-rin, predictably, looked intimidated by the prospect of sharing a stage not just with Da-eun, but now also with a famous male idol. She shrank back in her chair slightly, the idea of that much spotlight terrifying. And Jin… Jin just looked numb, a man so disconnected from his own artistry he couldn't even imagine what his sound was anymore. It was, on paper, a management nightmare, a recipe for creative disaster.

Yoo-jin knew he had to sell them not just on a business strategy, but on an artistic crusade.

"A mess? Good," he countered, his eyes flashing with a passionate fire. "That's the point. OmniCorp has spent millions of dollars and man-hours to create one perfect, seamless, artificial artist. A single, flawless voice. We will counter them with a gloriously imperfect, messy, and profoundly real collaboration of three unique human artists. We will show the world that true harmony isn't about blending into one polished sound; it's about three distinct voices, three different stories, standing together and refusing to be silenced. We will fight their synthetic perfection with our chaotic humanity."

His words began to resonate. He was reframing the creative challenge as their most powerful weapon.

He then turned his full attention to Jin, his voice softening with empathy but losing none of its strategic edge. "That song they stole from you. That beautiful, heartbreaking ballad. I know you didn't just write one. An artist's soul doesn't work that way. Do you have more like it?"

Jin, who had been staring blankly at the table, looked up. For the first time since the revelation, a flicker of his old self, the hidden artist, appeared in his eyes. He gave a slow, numb nod.

"Good," Yoo-jin said, his voice a firm anchor. "That's where we start. This isn't just about fighting them. It's about you taking back what is yours. We are going to take the art they stole, and with the help of everyone in this room, we are going to make it a hundred times more powerful than their cheap imitation could ever be."

He wasn't just managing a new artist; he was giving a broken man a direct path to reclaiming his stolen identity. He was giving him a reason to create again.

A new, fragile sense of purpose began to form in the room. Da-eun's skepticism was being replaced by a grudging respect for the sheer audacity of the plan. Chae-rin's fear was being overshadowed by her loyalty to her new family. A plan was forming, a first shot was being aimed.

Just as they were about to begin brainstorming, the door opened and Oh Min-ji entered, her face grim. She had clearly been working, digging deeper into the data they'd acquired.

"There's something else," she said, her voice cutting through the nascent creative energy. "I've been monitoring internal OmniCorp marketing chatter through a backchannel I accessed via their server. They've assigned a lead producer to oversee Kai's global debut."

She projected her tablet's screen onto the wall monitor. "They're very excited about this new hire. She comes with a reputation as a master of media manipulation. An expert at creating impenetrable narratives for her artists, and at dismantling the narratives of her rivals. An SSS-Rank talent, according to their internal evaluation."

On the screen was a sleek corporate headshot. It was a face Yoo-jin knew with a sickening sense of familiarity. A face he had last seen associated with the ruins of Chairman Choi's empire.

It was Nam Gyu-ri. "The Viper."

His old nemesis. The brilliant, ruthless media strategist he had thoroughly defeated and left disgraced. She hadn't disappeared. She had found a new, more powerful master. She had upgraded.

Yoo-jin stared at her smiling, predatory face. The coming battle for the soul of music, the war between the real and the artificial, was about to be fought between him and the one person in the world who knew his methods best. And this time, she was backed by the near-infinite resources and global reach of OmniCorp. The first shot hadn't even been fired, and the war had just become exponentially more dangerous.