Wednesday morning, Kim Hyun-wook, a 28-year-old young man, the only son of a well-known businessman, has just been promoted to CEO, succeeding his father. He is staring at a business report his employee gave him this morning. The report states that their real estate company needs an upgrade or additional units to compete with its competitors.
With a frustrated huff, Hyun-wook crumpled the report in his fist and tossed it into the trash bin by his desk. It landed with a satisfying clatter against the metal. He stood from the seat behind his desk with a sigh, raking a hand through his dark hair in frustrated habit. There had to be something that could edge them ahead of the competition. Just one idea, just one plan to take their struggling company to the next level.
His gaze wandered to the windows overlooking Seoul, the city's familiar skyline stretching out before him. Then his assistant came, she informed that the meeting with all the division heads would start soon. Hyun-wook straightened his tie with a sharp tug, his expression shifting into the cool, unreadable mask he'd perfected under his father's scrutiny.
"Tell them I'll be there in five," he said, voice clipped.
The assistant bowed slightly before hurrying out—leaving him alone with the weight of expectation pressing down on his shoulders. His eyes flicked back to the crumpled report in the trash bin for a fleeting second before he strode toward the door.
First: survive this meeting.
Then: figure out how to make sure their company didn't just survive—but thrived.
The conference room was already humming with chatter when Hyun-wook entered. Heads bowed over reports of their own. Graphs and charts on display across a massive screen. Executives murmuring amongst themselves as they discussed the state of their company. He spotted his father in the back, leaning against a pillar with his ever-present smirk as the others spoke.
Hyun-wook suppressed a grimace and took his seat at the head of the table, folding his hands under his chin in forced patience as the meeting dragged on.
"Endure", he reminded himself.
"Gentlemen," Hyun-wook finally cut in, his voice slicing through the drone of projections about quarterly losses.
The room fell silent. He leaned forward, fingertips pressing into the polished mahogany table as he locked eyes with each division head in turn.
"I've reviewed every proposal here." His gaze lingered on his father's unreadable expression before continuing coldly, "And they all share one fatal flaw—playing it safe while our competitors innovate."
A beat of silence. Then, dropping the bombshell with calculated calm.
"We're not upgrading our units. We're buying out Hong Industries' luxury residential portfolio instead."
The room erupted—gasps, protests, his father's sharp inhale from the corner, but Hyun-wook didn't flinch. He had done his research: Hong Industries was overleveraged after a failed venture in Busan ... and their desperation was Seoul Realty's opportunity.
"Let them panic." His knuckles whitened against the table as he held up a hand for silence again—this time with a razor-edged smile that mirrored his father's ruthlessness perfectly.
"Unless someone here has a better idea?"
One manager expressed her objection, believing that purchasing another industry's portfolio, whose status and status were still unclear, posed significant risks. Anything could happen, from abuse of rights to contractual breaches. She proposed purchasing land from another property at a lower price and then using the proceeds to build a better units type than the existing one.
Hyun-wook listened without interruption, his fingers steepled under his chin—an eerie calm settling over him as the manager laid out her concerns. When she finished, the room held its breath. Then he leaned forward slowly, eyes glinting like polished steel under the conference lights.
"A fair point," he conceded smoothly—before twisting the knife, "But tell me, Manager Kwon ... how long will it take us to scout new land? Secure permits? Construct from scratch while our rivals siphon off our clientele with their existing high-rises?" He flicked a pen across Hong Industries' portfolio report on the table. "This isn't just property—it's market dominance served on a silver platter."
His father watched from the shadows with something almost resembling pride—but Hyun-wook wasn't done yet.
Turning back to Manager Kwon with chilling precision, "Unless you'd like to personally explain to shareholders why we wasted six months playing catch-up?"
Manager Kwon stiffened, her grip on her tablet tightening imperceptibly. She opened her mouth, perhaps to argue further—but Hyun-wook had already risen from his seat, the movement fluid and final.
"The decision is made," he said, dusting invisible lint off his sleeve with an air of cold dismissal that brooked no further debate. "Legal will draft the acquisition terms by end of day. Finance—prepare liquidity projections assuming a 15% premium over Hong's current valuation."
His gaze swept the room once more, lingering pointedly on each department head in turn before adding with razor-edged calm.
"...And if anyone here can't execute this within 48 hours? Submit your resignations alongside your reports."
The silence that followed was so absolute it could've been cut with a knife. Then, just as Hyun-wook turned to leave—his father's low chuckle echoed from the back of the room like a slow-clap.
Spoken like a true CEO.
Hyun-wook paused mid-step, shoulders tensing beneath his tailored suit. He didn't turn to face his father—just angled his chin slightly, the barest acknowledgment of the twisted compliment. The ghost of a smirk flickered at the corner of his mouth before he schooled it back into impassivity.
"Save the applause," he replied coolly, adjusting his cufflinks with deliberate nonchalance. "I'd prefer results over praise."
And with that, he exited—leaving behind a room heavy with unspoken tension and the weight of impossible expectations. But not before catching Manager Kwon's glare burning holes into his back.