Professional training worked wonders.
Lee Jin-woo felt his core strength steadily climb.
Partially thanks to his "half-effort, double-results" knack, but Ashtanga yoga's impact was undeniable.
Hitting the intercom, he said calmly, "Secretary Ha, bring a glass of water."
Ha Joo-hee entered, one hand with water, the other holding a Yuzpe pill.
After Kim Sung-hee took it, he said wearily, "Massage me."
Kneeling by the sofa, she clumsily recalled massage techniques.
Untrained, she often got professional massages herself, mimicking those now.
Learning as she went.
Leaving the office two hours later, she carried her things plus a 1-million-won check.
"President, if needed, I can learn… like her."
After Kim left, Ha Joo-hee offered to become his personal yoga coach.
It'd be tough, time-consuming, exhausting.
But for him, to be more than just a secretary, she'd endure any hardship.
"No need." Propping himself up, he climbed off the sofa.
Sitting, he exhaled. "It's not essential. You are… Understand?"
Hope lit her face. "Oppa, mianhae."
"No apologies. Once Rep Jo's work wraps, pick a place by the river."
"Ne~ President, the H Tower rents are in your private account. Any issues, let me know. I'll contact the bank."
"Mm, go."
Leaving the office, thrilled, she bumped into Yoon Hye-na, who asked curiously, "What's got you so happy?"
"Nothing, Rep Yoon will know later." Ha couldn't spill the President's promise—trouble might follow.
Yoon, the company rep, hadn't gotten company or presidential rewards.
A secretary like her…
An ambitious woman would flaunt it to Yoon, flexing her place in the President's heart.
But Ha's ambitions weren't career-driven.
No matter how glamorous Yoon seemed, it meant nothing to her.
Endless work, receptions, errands, executing his every order—no time even to be close to him.
To Ha, she was happier, purer.
So, the house thing? Better Yoon heard it from the President.
She didn't know how to face Yoon's questioning eyes otherwise.
"Get to work."
Yoon knew she was hiding something but didn't press.
Everyone had secrets. Ha did, so did she.
Like Ha, she guarded hers too.
So, Ha's secrecy wasn't surprising.
"Young-joon, why the call? Trouble?"
"No, hyung, got something to discuss…"
"…"
"I'll reply soon."
Setting the phone down, his gaze went blank.
Jo Young-joon suggested changing citizenship, becoming American.
Also, security concerns.
The family had arranged someone, but Jo had a better, more professional pick.
Private contractors? Nope~
His choice might not be as skilled, but far better in morals and reputation.
Private contractors weren't exactly "friendly" synonyms.
Recently, some retired officers, honorably discharged due to internal purges, were available.
Their traits: multiple protection missions, honor-first, principled, divorced.
America's reality? Jin-woo hadn't lived there, lacking firsthand feel.
But he'd binged American dramas.
Behind every family-valuing man was a spoiled, foolish woman.
At critical moments, their sharp tongues ruined everything.
So, he preferred unburdened hires.
Less hearts to sway, no tangled strings to guess.
Foreign security? He was on board.
Citizenship change? Needed thought.
Not that he clung to Korean roots or patriotic pride.
He was weighing gains versus losses.
Koreans idolized America and coffee.
But their twisted, self-loathing confidence made them touchy here.
Everyone wanted to be an American lord; no one wanted others to be.
Especially chaebols controlling the economy. Everyone knew profits flowed to America, but no one could say it.
Hiding the truth, Koreans played it masterfully.
Contradictory, complex, sensitive, insecure yet arrogant…
No East Asian humanity was more tangled than Koreans.
But, eyeing a big Wall Street haul, he leaned toward switching.
With Lee Kang-ho backing him and an American passport, double insurance was safer.
The public's fragile hearts? Just leeks—why care about their thoughts or stares?
If it sparked outrage, he'd slap on a new "vest" as a front, morph into a natural person.
Spin off a subsidiary with prime assets, independent operations, dump bad debts on the parent.
File bankruptcy, clear debts, reemerge as a subsidiary director, relist in years—a pristine firm.
Chaebols played this trick to death decades ago.
Him trying it once? No big deal, right?
"Young-joon, I'm in. What do I need…"
He had Ha Joo-hee prep documents, sent to Jo Young-joon in New York.
All he needed was to show his face on a video call.
For the rich, procedures simplified.
"When you back?"
"Hyung, I'm kinda reluctant to leave."
The mic caught odd pop, pop sounds, its quality garbage.
"How's the guy I sent?"
"Haven't met, but from what I hear… not quite cut for this."
"How?"
"Stingy, cautious, paranoid… Though, managed well, those are strengths."
"What's the holdup? Get someone to train him. You know I don't ask for help lightly."
"…Fine, I'll mentor him myself when I'm back."
"Thanks, Young-joon."
After gratitude, they chatted about guy stuff.
Grinning, he set the phone down.
Time to shift focus overseas—eggs in one basket wasn't safe.
Using foreign capital to boost local clout aligned with his plans.
Just one extra step: citizenship change.
Though it'd likely draw flak, pros outweighed cons.
Fish or bear's paw—you had to choose.
"President, they're back."
Ha Joo-hee knocked, snapping him out of it. It was dark outside.
"Let's go. Everyone here?"
"Ne!"
"How'd Ji-eun do on stage?"
"They said she was great."
"Really? Got a recording?"
"I'll ask."
"Mm, invite the front desk too. Close up for today."
"Ne~"
Zy+ Entertainment's full staff gathered—reception, even the cleaning ajumma.
As expected, with Jin-woo there…
New or lower-ranked staff stayed visibly awkward.
Half-full, he made an excuse to leave.
"Oppa." Today's star, IU, chased after him.
"Oppa, street stall together?" Clinging to his arm, her eyes sparkled with hope.
"Now? Not enough food inside?" He raised a brow.
"With oppa there, the ajummas feel awkward. That's why you left early with an excuse…"
"Smart guess, our IU." He flicked her nose. "But not today."
Ruffling her hair, he watched her pout and shuffle back inside.
Turning, he stepped into the elevator, stopping at the curb outside.
Beep, beep~
Seconds later, a sleek black Hyundai pulled up.
"Boo-jin noona." Greeting the woman in the rolled-down window, he slid in.
The car merged into the neon river, vanishing into the night.
"You, alone? Sure you can handle it?"
"Noona, new era. Fists don't solve things anymore."
"Then how…?"
Lee Boo-jin couldn't grasp how he'd fix this mess.
"With reason, of course."
His dead-serious tone made her eyes widen in disbelief.
Sensing her worry, he took her hand resting on her thigh.
Lee Boo-jin's hand wasn't delicate or pampered.
But it felt… ordinary.
Like yours, mine, anyone's—plain, normal.
That ordinariness brought a familiar, natural comfort.
She tugged, trying to free her hand.
After a few failed tries, she sighed. "Jin-woo, let go."
"What?"
He looked back, eyes more innocent than innocence itself.
(End of Chapter)