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Rookie Talent Agent Knows It All-Chapter 830: Discipline
President Kang Gam-Chan's voice thundered across the room, directed at Chief Yoon Dong-Gu first.
"Chief Yoon. What do you take Hoop Entertainment for—a back-alley thug ring? You're the chief of the second-largest agency in the industry and you pull this kind of bait-and-switch?"
"I... I'm sorry..."
"Good, you should be sorry! Then you'll accept punishment, right? We'll convene a disciplinary committee later. But for now, due to your slander of a fellow employee and for arbitrarily altering contract terms and damaging the company's reputation, you're suspended from decision-making and docked six months of pay. Understood?"
"But Mr. Kang!"
"I'm not done talking!"
Kang Gam-Chan roared before delivering his next decision coldly.
"Also, given your handling of this matter, it's clear you lack the capability to lead a division. Effective immediately, your independent decision-making powers in Singer Division 4 are revoked for six months. All actions will require direct approval from me. Does that make sense?"
In our company, division chiefs were given autonomy over their divisions. Stripping that power meant Yoon Dong-Gu was now nothing more than an overpaid team lead. Though temporary, it could become permanent given his performance.
Unable to take the humiliation, Yoon Dong-Gu jumped up from his seat. "This is outrageous!"
As a star producer earning royalties of nearly one billion won per year and the man behind Berry Six's rise to Number 1, Yoon Dong-Gu believed himself essential, just like he had been at Gwanwoo Entertainment.
Nevertheless, Kang Gam-Chan didn't even flinch. "Maybe that worked at Gwanwoo, but not here at Hoop Entertainment. You make a mistake, you get punished. That's common sense. And for the record, we're launching a full audit of all your work since the merger. Be ready."
Panic-stricken, Yoon Dong-Gu sent a pleading glance at Kim Gwan-Woo and Kim Jang-Bi.
Kim Gwan-Wooi stepped in quickly and protested, "Mr. Kang, I understand Chief Yoon made a mistake. But it was in the interest of the company. Isn't this punishment a little harsh? It's also starting to look like you're blatantly taking Chief Jung's side. I think we should tone it down—"
Kang Gam-Chan glared at Kim Gwan-Woo with a chilling stare. "Tone it down? Are you saying I'm overreacting?"
"Yes. If you punish someone for a mistake made while trying to help the company, morale will tank. Plus, this issue got worse because Chief Jung overstepped his bounds. The real problem is jurisdiction."
"You're saying that if Chief Jung hadn't intervened, none of this would've happened?"
"Exactly. I get that he holds 3.5% in shares, but that doesn't mean he can interfere in other divisions. If Chief Yoon is getting punished, then Chief Jung should be too. Otherwise, since we hold over 10% of company shares, we'll start involving ourselves in his division too."
Kang Gam-Chan scoffed at their intention to use this as an excuse to meddle in my division. "Who said Chief Jung only owns 3.5%?"
"Ahem... Mr. Chairman is giving him 3%, and he personally acquired another 0.5%. So..."
"You're mistaken. Chief Jung will hold 15.5%."
Kim Gwan-Woo's eyes nearly popped out. "F-Fifteen...? W-What...how?"
"It'll be officially reported through the stock exchange soon. Check for yourself. But remember one thing: Chief Jung is our second-largest shareholder. That gives him every right to call out your mistakes. Got it?"
It was like a judge handing down a verdict. Kim Gwan-Woo sat speechless, blinking in disbelief.
"And Vice President Kim Gwan-Woo, let me be very clear. If you cause another issue over mismanaging your people, the very first agenda of our next shareholder meeting will be your dismissal. Consider this your last warning."
Kang Gam-Chan owned 18%, Director Kang Ji-Yung 10%, and I held 15.5%. With Chairman Choi Eun-Tae's 20% and other friendly shareholders, we controlled over 67% of the vote. That was enough to dictate almost any company decision.
Sure, firing someone like Kim Gwan-Woo required proper grounds. But from now on, the Gwanwoo faction would no longer run wild.
However, Kang Gam-Chan's reprimands weren't over yet. "Director Kim Jang-Bi, You were the most at fault today. When something like this happens, you should be the one mediating between divisions, not marching in here with a video file to stir up trouble. What is your job, exactly?!"
Kim Jang-Bi had no retort.
Kang Gam-Chan glared at him with disappointment before delivering the verdict. "As of today, you're suspended. One month. Use that time to reflect on how you can actually help this company. The Disciplinary Committee will process your one-month unpaid leave accordingly."
It was a harsh sentence. Suspension, especially for someone in his role, was one step short of termination. As a director, he wasn't protected by labor laws like regular employees but he was considered part of management. This gave the company grounds to terminate him if another similar incident occurred.
Realizing the severity of the situation, Kim Jang-Bi pleaded desperately and lowered his head. "Mr. Kang, please... not suspension..."
However, Kang Gam-Chan dismissed him with a huff. "Nope. Not changing my mind. Get out."
Shocked, Kim Jang-Bi looked around for help, but even Kim Gwan-Woo's position was shaky now. Resigned, he slumped his shoulders and left.
Just like that, the long-standing Gwanwoo Entertainment faction—once a source of chronic tension—was soundly crushed under Kang Gam-Chan's command.
***
Once the three Gwanwoo executives left the room, the door shut with a final click.
Kang Gam-Chan exhaled deeply and sank into the couch. "Phew... finally, some peace."
Since founding Hoop Entertainment, Kang Gam-Chan had fought off factional power grabs from directors like Lee Gi-Cheol, Kim Dong-Soo, and Choi Man-Sik. The Gwanwoo merger had brought even more political strife. But since my regression, things had steadily improved—culminating in this moment, now with over two-thirds of shareholder support following our IPO.
Kang Gam-Chan, who had once died of a brain tumor in the original timeline, now sat healthy and victorious as the president of the industry's second-largest entertainment company.
'Congratulations, sir.'
The Gwanwoo faction still held shares, so we couldn't oust them completely. Yet for today, at least, the win was worth savoring.
Kang Gam-Chan looked at me with a warm smile. "Sorry to call you in without a heads-up."
"No worries, sir. I could tell what was going on just from your expression."
"I originally intended to just shut them up with your share count, but after hearing that audio clip... Sigh, I knew this was the perfect time to bring the hammer down."
Kang Gam-Chan's instincts as a strategist had kicked in masterfully.
Gu Seong-Cheol chimed in proudly. "Ahem! I knew from the start that bringing in Chief Jung would pay off!"
Kang Ji-Yung stuck out her tongue playfully. "You're lying again, sunbae. I saw your face go pale when you first walked in."
"What? Hey now, don't make things up!"
Watching Kang Ji-Yung and Gu Seong-Cheol banter, I knew it was time to make something official and bring what I had in my head into reality.
"Mr. Kang. Once my shares are disclosed, there's bound to be talk about promoting me to the board."
Kang Gam-Chan nodded. "Probably. You've got the numbers and the results. Regular shareholders will expect it. But... you still don't want the role, huh?"
"No. I'd rather stay in the field. But to avoid gossip, I'd like to recommend someone else for the position."
Kang Gam-Chan nodded thoughtfully. "That would help silence speculation. So who are you nominating?"
"Someone you already know."
"Who would that be?"
I smiled and pointed at the man still teasing Kang Ji-Yung. "Mr. Gu Seong-Cheol over there."
Currently, the only executive board member besides Kang Gam-Chan was his daughter Kang Ji-Yung. That left the company open to accusations of nepotism, especially with the IPO. Promoting Gu Seong-Cheol would help mitigate those suspicions. He was a founding member, had bled for the company, and had the integrity and backbone to support it further.
Kang Gam-Chan beamed. "If it's Seong-Cheol, I'm all in."
Kang Ji-Yung grinned too. "I'd love to have sunbae officially on board. Would help people stop accusing us of running a family business."
As expected, Gu Seong-Cheol was about to protest again.
However, I grasped Gu Seong-Cheol's hand and said with deliberate earnestness, "Mr. Gu, I really need you to be my backup. That way, I can do my job with some peace of mind. You saw it just now, right? How the former Gwanwoo Entertainment guys keep coming after me."
Gu Seong-Cheol tilted his head. "Huh? Didn't you just stomp all over them?"
"Still, they've got 10% of the shares. Who knows what sneaky tactic they'll try next?"
Of course, they weren't a real threat anymore, but I exaggerated my helplessness a little. That hesitation was all it took. Gu Seong-Cheol frowned and mulled it over, torn.
Then with a heavy sigh, Gu Seong-Cheol gave in. "Damn it... If it's you asking, how can I say no? Fine. I'll do it. Happy?"
Only then did I release his hand and bow with a smile. "Thank you, Mr. Chief. I mean, Mr. Director!"
Gu Seong-Cheol laughed awkwardly. "Call me that when the promotion's official."
"Yes, sir."
Just then, Kang Gam-Chan chuckled from across the room. "Congratulations, Seong-Cheol. You're finally becoming a director."
The gravity of the president's voice made Gu Seong-Cheol straighten his back and drop the teasing. Just as I looked up to Gu Seong-Cheol with genuine respect, he clearly held Kang Gam-Chan in the same light.
With a serious expression, Gu Seong-Cheol bowed slowly and sincerely. "I won't let you down, sir."
"I trust you," Kang Gam-Chan replied.
Just like that, Gu Seong-Cheol was set to become the next director of Hoops Entertainment.
***
As we left the executive meeting room and stepped into the elevator, Gu Seong-Cheol asked with a smirk, "You really recommended me, huh?"
"Come on, Mr. Gu. Who else would be better for the role?"
"Fine, fine. I'll be your human shield. Happy now?"
I grinned and pressed the button for the 2nd floor.
Gu Seong-Cheol tilted his head and asked, "Why the second floor? Our office is on four."
"I wanted to check in on Treviang's dance practice. They placed third today, so I bet they're feeling pretty down."
Treviang was a hip-hop girl group developed by Chief Han So-Yoo of Singer Division 1. I had helped tweak their debut choreography and music video back in the day.
Though their title track 'Treviang' had come in second due to fierce competition from Cherry Blossom and Seo Yeon-Woo, they had trained even harder this time around, aiming for their first win. However, Chief Yoon Dong-Gu of Singer Division 4 had pulled Berry Six's debut ahead of schedule, once again throwing a wrench in their plans.
Today, on the MBS Show! Music Center, Berry Six's 'I'm Cinderella' took first place. Second went to Park Eun-Bin's 'White Day Proposal.' And finally, the third was Treviang's 'Stand Alone.'
I was heading down now to boost their morale in person.
"Alright, I'm in," said Gu Seong-Cheol. "If they nail tomorrow's stage, I'll treat them to something nice."
"Ooooh, now that's our Mr. Director!"
"Hey! I'm not a director yet."
Gu Seong-Cheol waved his hands, embarrassed.
Ding.
The elevator doors opened onto the second floor.
As we stepped out, Gu Seong-Cheol glanced at me and asked cautiously, "If you care that much about those girls... Why not get involved directly? You pulling strings to get them a win wouldn't be that hard."
It wouldn't be impossible. And I had been quietly laying the groundwork for a month now. But if I stepped in openly, it might reflect badly on Han So-Yoo, as though she wasn't competent enough on her own.
I replied casually, "Eh, it's not that easy."
"Still, you should think about it. Chief Han took a big risk supporting you instead of following the Suhyaejong clique back in the day. I just don't want your reputation getting dragged down inside the company."
Gu Seong-Cheol was already thinking like an executive, widening his view.
'I guess I really am good at picking people.'
I nodded. "I understand. I'll look for a discreet way to help."
"Yeah."
While we were talking, we arrived at Practice Room 1 where Treviang was practicing. Practice Room 1 had the best facilities and the most space—it was a symbol of prestige used only by the top performers. That was why artists always tried to practice there if they could. It was soaked in good energy.
At that moment, the sharp voice of AZ, Berry Six's choreographer, rang out from inside and leaked through the door.
-Hey! Oh Ji-Ah! And the two minions! Don't you know this is Berry Six's practice time? You barge in here all sweaty without even asking. What the hell?
AZ, Berry Six's choreographer, had been working with Yoon Dong-Gu since their time at Gwanwoo Entertainment. The two had collaborated on many projects. She was just as skilled as Choreographer Park Seon-Nyeo. Even though her title was team lead, she was treated like a chief.
'But what? Did she just call Treviang minions?'
Even if she had a sharp tongue, I couldn't understand why Treviang had to be subjected to that kind of insult. I quickly walked toward Practice Room 1. Just then, I heard the voice of Oh Ji-Ah, Treviang's leader.
-Berry Six's practice was scheduled to start at 9 p.m. It was empty, so we came in, that's all.
It was currently 9:45 p.m. Treviang had finished their session in Practice Room 2 at 9:30 p.m., and seeing that Room 1 was empty, they had used it.
-Even if it's empty, it's still ours until 10 p.m. Who said you could touch Room 1? What, are you bitter because you didn't get first place today? Trying to steal our energy or something?
As AZ continued to scold and mock them, Oh Ji-Ah spoke up again, sounding frustrated.
-No, really. It's just that this room is the biggest and nicest...
Then the voice of Yoo So-Jung, the leader of Berry Six, followed.
-Well, I guess if you don't have the skills, you have to do something like that. But what now? We don't get shaken by petty distractions like this.
Oh Ji-Ah fired back at the sneering Yoo So-Jung.
-Hey, Yoo So-Jung. Did you just say 'you guys?' Watch your mouth. We're your sunbae!
-Sunbae? Just a few months ahead doesn't make you sunbae. We've all been trainees for over five years, you know?
In the entertainment industry, the celebrity's debut date, not their age, defined their seniority. And Yoo So-Jung, only 22 years old, was three years younger than the 25-year-old Oh Ji-Ah. Still, Yoo So-Jung spoke informally to Oh Ji-Ah.
I heard stories about popular girl groups disregarding age and seniority, but I never imagined it would happen here in our company.
I reached Practice Room 1 and looked through the glass door. The six members of Berry Six and AZ were cornering Treviang's three members with a domineering attitude. Treviang, without even a talent agent today and having placed third, looked intimidated and hesitant.
At that moment, I turned to Gu Seong-Cheol and said, "Mr. Gu. I think they're trying to crush Treviang on purpose."
If I wasn't wrong, Berry Six was deliberately harassing Treviang. They were clearly shaking up the mindset of their competition to make them collapse on their own.
Gu Seong-Cheol experienced as he was, caught on immediately. "Sure looks that way. And look at these kids already picking up the worst behaviors."
If they were part of Hoop Entertainment, then it was time for a serious wake-up call. However, I would do it my way.
I turned to Gu Seong-Cheol with conviction. "It looks like we'll have to do what you suggested, sir."
"Huh? What's that?"
"Make Treviang number one."
Gu Seong-Cheol's eyes lit up. "Good call. But first, let's deal with this."
"Yes. Let's go in."
Gu Seong-Cheol and I opened the door to Practice Room 1.
At that moment, Gu Seong-Cheol shouted loud enough to shake the room. "Hey you, Ah-Jae[1]! What the hell do you think you're doing? Huh?"
AZ was twenty-nine years old and called herself AZ because she claimed to have mastered everything from A to Z in choreography. She always insisted on being called AZ instead of her real name.
But now, in front of an angry Gu Seong-Cheol, she was reduced to just Ah-Jae.
1. a play on the Korean term for middle-aged man ☜






