I followed Kang Minjae out of his serene office and into the executive hallway.
He moved with a relaxed, unhurried stride—hands in his pockets, suit jacket draping perfectly.
He was less a CEO on a mission and more a guide in his own museum of quiet efficiency.
The floor was a study in muted power. Cream walls, dark wood accents, sound-absorbing carpet that swallowed our footsteps.
No one bustled. Everyone seemed to move with the same deliberate calm he did.
He didn't head toward the offices lining the hall. Instead, he turned the opposite way, toward an open-concept area where the hum of low conversation and the soft glow of multiple monitors bled into the corridor.
"We'll see your office in a bit," he said, his voice cutting the quiet without breaking it. "First, you should meet the people you'll be advising. The Team Leaders."
'Right. My Coworkers.' My stomach tightened, but my stride didn't falter.
We approached a large, modern conference room with a glass wall. Inside, six people were already seated around a polished table, tablets and notebooks at the ready.
Two men, four women, all in impeccable business attire were seated.
As we reached the door, Minjae stopped and gestured toward it with a slight nod.
"This is it," he said, his voice still that same, even pitch and then pushed the door open.
"Oh okay." I took a quiet, steadying breath, pulling the crisp, conditioned air deep into my lungs. I reached past him, turned the cool metal handle, and followed him in.
All conversation inside died. Six pairs of eyes—sharp, curious, skeptical, and in one case, openly hostile—snapped to us, then locked onto me.
Kang Minjae moved to the head of the table with that same easy grace.
"Everyone, this is Austra Law," he said, his tone conversational, as if introducing a new coffee machine.
"I'm sure you've seen her name in the financial pages. The Law Group heiress. As of this morning, she's our new Special Executive Director. She'll be overseeing cross-departmental strategy and providing direct advisory support to my office. Please give her your cooperation."
He gestured to me, a small, neutral motion. "Austra, let me introduce you to the core leadership you'll be working with most closely."
He turned to his right. "First, our Marketing Team. This is Team Leader Ri Minhyuk, and his key strategist, Ms. Jung So-hee."
My gaze landed on them. The man had a polished, handsome face that looked better on paper than it did in person, where a certain slickness lingered around the eyes. The woman beside him was sharp-featured, with a calculated smile and perfectly manicured nails.
'Ri Minhyuk. Jung So-hee.' The names hit me like a screenplay title. 'The Cheating Boyfriend and The Mistress.'
A wave of pure, fangirl disgust rose in my throat.
This was the man about to make my Female Lead cry into her tea. This was the woman smirking in supply closets.
They weren't just characters on a screen anymore. They were real, sitting six feet away, in charge of millions in advertising budget.
I kept my professional mask locked in place, the one I'd practiced in the mirror.
I offered a slight, polite nod. "Team Leader Ri. Ms. Jung. A pleasure."
My tone was cool, flawless. But inside, a single, clear thought rang out: 'So you're the bastards. I'm gonna have to find a way to deal with you two...'
Kang Minjae, completely unaware of the internal drama, moved on. "To their left, heading our Sales and Logistics division, Team Leader Park Ji-won and Assistant Manager Lee Sang-min."
A stern-looking woman in her fifties with a no-nonsense bob gave me a curt, assessing nod. The young man beside her, looking anxious but earnest, offered a quick, nervous smile.
"Team Leader Park. Assistant Manager Lee," I acknowledged, my voice warming a fraction. These were just professionals. Potential obstacles, maybe, but not personal villains.
"And finally," Minjae concluded, gesturing to the last two women at the table. "Our Retail Operations and Client Experience team. Team Leader Ko Eun-ji, and her lead coordinator, Ms. Bae Soo-jin."
Both women were younger, dressed in sleek, modern cuts. Team Leader Ko had an intelligent, watchful gaze, while Ms. Bae's expression was open, curious.
"Team Leader Ko. Ms. Bae," I said, meeting their eyes and offering a genuine, if small, smile. These felt like potential allies. Or at least, not active landmines.
I let my gaze sweep back across the six of them, finally letting it rest for a half-second too long on Minhyuk and Jung So-hee.
"Thank you for the introductions, CEO Kang," I said, my voice steady and clear in the quiet room. "I look forward to learning from all of you and supporting our shared goals for Han Department Stores."
The polite, corporate script fell from my lips easily. But as I held my stance under their collective scrutiny, a new mission crystalized in my mind, sharp and clear.
'Alright. I see the board now. And I see two pieces that need to be taken off.'
Kang Minjae gave a slight nod to the room. "If you'll excuse us, I'll show Director Law to her office. We'll reconvene for the weekly briefing tomorrow."
A murmur of assent followed us as we left the conference room and its heavy silence behind.
We retraced our steps down the quiet hall, turning a corner to a row of offices with actual doors and views.
He stopped at one directly across and a few doors down from his own.
"Here you are," he said, opening the door and stepping aside for me to enter.
I walked in, and my breath caught—not from luxury, but from a kind of perfect, efficient grace.
It was spacious, flooded with morning light from a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the city.
The furnishings were minimalist: a wide, pale oak desk, a sleek ergonomic chair, a comfortable-looking visitor chair in charcoal grey.
A low bookshelf held a few tasteful decorative objects and empty slots waiting for binders.
It was professional, intelligent, and calm.
A smile tugged at my lips, unbidden. A memory flashed from my past life—my old temp desk at the law firm, a cubicle the size of a postage stamp, smelling of stale coffee and defeat, piled high with tear-away request forms.
I'd dreamed of a window. Any window. And now to think I have… this.
"Do you like it?" he asked.
"It's perfect," I said, my voice softer than I intended as I ran my fingers along the cool, smooth surface of the desk. "Efficient. Exactly what's needed."
I turned, still smiling at the sheer, surreal upgrade my life had received, and found Kang Minjae watching me.
He wasn't scrutinizing, just… observing. A faint, curious light in his eyes.
I cleared my throat. "Did I stare too much?"
He let out a low, quiet chuckle, the sound warm and unexpected. "Most people who get an office like this are… more visibly triumphant. They talk about the view, the size."
He tilted his head slightly. "But considering your background, I just didn't think a corporate office would register as particularly significant. Yet you seemed… genuinely pleased by it."
'My background....?' Right. 'The heiress who supposedly had everything.'
I couldn't exactly say, "You'd be surprised how thrilling a non-cubicle is when your last life involved a 30-minute commute for minimum wage."
"It's a good desk," I said instead, opting for simple truth. "It has space to think. That's what matters."
He studied me for another second, then gave a slow nod, as if filing away a new piece of data. "A practical perspective. That will serve you well here."
He glanced at his watch. "I was asked to stop by my boss's office after this. I should head up."
'Boss?' My brain stuttered for a second. Then it clicked. His boss. The only person Kang Minjae reported to.
Han Eun-woo.
A little spark of fangirl electricity shot through me.
The advice moment!
In the drama, these were the scenes where the stoic CEO would confess his confusion to his unflappable friend, who would dissect it with calm, logical precision.
"Of course," I said, maybe a little too quickly. "Please, don't let me keep you."
"Enjoy your office, Director Law," he said, already turning toward the door. "You won't have any formal duties today. Use the time to get settled, explore the system access, familiarize yourself. The real work starts tomorrow."
With a final, brief smile that felt almost like camaraderie, he was gone, closing the door softly behind him.
I was left alone in the quiet, sunlit space.
I walked behind the desk and sank into the chair. It was perfectly supportive. I looked out at the Seoul skyline, then back at the clean, empty surface before me.
A slow, real smile spread across my face.
I leaned back, the leather sighing softly. Tomorrow, the games would begin. But for today, I had a window, a desk with space to think, and the quiet satisfaction of having just met the cheating scumbag and his mistress without throwing a single punch.
Not a bad first hour.
I sat down in the new chair, the leather giving a soft, expensive sigh.
But the satisfaction of the morning evaporated, replaced by a cold, prickling realization. The thing that had been bugging me since I woke up in this world finally clicked into place.
The original 'Script.'
In all those novels and dramas, the isekai'd protagonist has a plan. Option A: cling to the original plot for survival. Option B: blow it all up for personal gain.
I'd just been… winging it. Throwing water, dodging pans, signing contracts in a panic.
But now, sitting in an office I'd earned with a bluff, staring at the door where a walking, talking cheating subplot had just sat, it wasn't enough.
'Do I try to keep the story on track? Or do I break it?'
If I meddle too much, like I already have a little, by getting this job I wasn't supposed to, the story I know—the one where Eun-woo and Yoon-ah find each other after twenty episodes of angst—might vanish.
But if I do nothing, Yoon-ah gets heart broken, Eun-woo makes noble, stupid sacrifices, and I… what? Sit here approving marketing budgets while my favorite love story drowns in misery?
"No," I whispered to the empty office. "Not on my watch."
I grabbed a sleek, company-issued notepad and a pen that probably cost more than my old grocery budget.
'Okay, Austra. Time to get professional about your fangirling. Think all the times you've Wished to have a chance to give them a normal happy ending!'
I started writing, my handwriting messier yet trying hard to remember what happened.
THE SCRIPT (as I remember it):
Water Splash Scene – CHECK. (I was the perpetrator. Great start.)
Forced Engagement / Contract Signing – CHECK. (Now cohabiting with concussed ML. Progress?)
"Good this happened already, so the next one is..."
FL's Ex-Boyfriend Arc – IN PROGRESS. (Met the bastard. He's team lead. Subplot: Cheating with coworker (Jung So-hee). CHECK.)
"If I remember correctly, isn't it the part where...hmm," I made a thoughtful hum, remembering all the terrible scenes I had to see. "I need to somehow think of a way to deal with it."
"So, after this the rest are... grand rescue... Corporate sabotage... The Trip... Confession in the rain... the wedding..."
After writing all of the rest of plots and subplots I could remember, I stared at the list. My stomach churned.
Number three was already in motion. Minhyuk wasn't just a name in credits anymore. He was in the next room.
And the climax… the one that made me cry for five minutes straight…
It wasn't just a dramatic scene. It was dangerous.
In the drama, Eun-woo saved her just in time. But what if my being here changed the timing?
A cold knot tightened in my chest.
I couldn't just nudge them together over coffee. I had to actively dismantle the plot bombs before they went off. Starting with the walking bomb with a team leader badge.
I circled point three so hard the pen nearly tore through the paper.
'Fine.' If this was my story now, I wasn't just going to read the spoilers.
I was going to rewrite them.