The conference room doors began opening one by one.
Click.
The executives strolled in and took their seats.
Head of Production.
Head of Sales.
Head of Procurement.
Head of Human Resources.
Head of Finance.
The key executives responsible for the company filed into the conference room, murmuring among themselves. Soon, it was full.
“I heard the CEO called this meeting himself.”
“Hah, he’s making a grand production out of just wanting to see our faces.”
Snicker.
A low laugh rippled through the room.
For an emergency meeting called by the company’s top decision-maker, they seemed remarkably relaxed.
“What do you think he’s going to say this time?”
Someone smiled knowingly.
“Heh-heh. Maybe he’s taking us somewhere nice?”
“Well, I wouldn’t complain.”
“Kwahahaha!”
Laughter broke out all around the room.
The atmosphere in the conference room was utterly lax.
Production, sales, finance, human resources.
Even with all the company’s core departments gathered, hardly anyone seemed tense.
They all knew that nothing would change just because Kang Tae-seong had called a meeting.
He’d say a few pleasantries and be done with it.
Maybe he’d give some vague instructions.
Or ask which pretty employee worked in which department and what her name was.
It wasn’t that the employees disrespected the CEO.
Objectively speaking, that was simply what Kang Tae-seong had been like all along.
“...Tsk.”
A tongue clicked from one corner of the conference room.
It was Choi Seong-uk, head of Planning.
Song Tae-jin, a managing director seated beside him, frowned in silence.
‘This sort of thing never happened when the chairman was around.’
Kang Baek-ho.
The founder and chairman who had built KJ Group into what it was today.
Back when he ran the company himself, it was hard to imagine people like that occupying key positions.
Those who failed to deliver were removed, while the capable rose through the ranks.
Strict principles and clear rewards and punishments.
It was an era when anyone who couldn’t prove themselves was left behind.
Executives were constantly put to the test, and only those who measured up could rise to the top.
But after Chairman Kang Baek-ho’s health began to deteriorate, things changed.
More precisely, once his son Kang Tae-seong took over as CEO.
‘Kang Tae-seong.’
Song Tae-jin gritted his teeth as he pictured that loathsome face.
Kang Tae-seong... was so incompetent that it was hard to believe he was the son of Chairman Kang Baek-ho, to whom Song had pledged his loyalty.
If he’d only been incompetent, the company wouldn’t have been in such turmoil.
Kang Tae-seong was incompetent, lazy, and greedy.
One sycophant after another was promoted. Connections began to matter more than ability, and people with no sense of responsibility took over every corner of the organization.
It took a while for the poison to spread, but the rot set in overnight.
Before anyone knew it, more than half the people in this very conference room were just like that.
‘A tiger for a father, a dog for a son...’
How could a father like a tiger have produced a son like that?
Song Tae-jin slowly shook his head in dismay.
That was when it happened.
Click—
The conference room door opened.
“The CEO is here.”
The secretary’s calm voice rang out.
Even if he was a figurehead, he was still the CEO.
For this moment, at least, everyone stopped chatting.
All eyes turned toward the door.
‘How much weight has he put on this time?’
‘Ah... I’m tired. I just hope this ends quickly.’
‘He’ll come trudging in with his belly sticking out, like always.’
That was what most of the executives expected.
But...
“...Huh?”
Someone let out a short gasp before they could stop themselves.
A man in a suit stepped across the threshold.
His shoes struck the floor.
Thud. Thud.
There was nothing clumsy about his stride.
His shoulders, usually slumped, were squared, and he held his head steady, looking straight ahead.
‘...What is this?’
He was only walking, yet the atmosphere in the conference room had grown strangely heavy.
One by one, the smiles slipped from the executives’ lips.
It was Kang Tae-seong.
His menacing face and bulky frame hadn’t changed much.
And yet, something was different.
He was the same man, but somehow he seemed like someone else entirely.
As if a sleeping beast had opened its eyes for the first time.
Each silent step weighed down on the conference room.
“Ahem.”
“Gulp....”
Some swallowed unconsciously, while others adjusted their posture for no reason in particular.
Without saying a word, Kang Tae-seong crossed the center of the room.
Then he slowly sat down at the CEO’s seat at the far end of the conference room.
Tap.
The brief sound of him setting down his notepad.
That one sound rang out far louder than it should have.
By then, the room had grown so quiet that not even a breath could be heard.
“...Looks like everyone’s here.”
His voice was calm.
“Yes, sir.”
Song Tae-jin was the first to answer.
But the moment the words left his mouth, he found himself wondering why.
‘...Why?’
Why had he responded to CEO Kang Tae-seong? Of all the people here, wasn’t Song Tae-jin the one most displeased by this meeting?
‘Those words just now.’
A long time ago, back when Chairman Kang Baek-ho used to hold executive meetings.
The weighty atmosphere that filled the conference room, the way he would slowly begin speaking as he surveyed the executives...
It had all felt strangely familiar, and Song had answered without even realizing it.
‘Was that my imagination?’
Song Tae-jin frowned slightly.
That was when it happened.
Kang Tae-seong slowly looked around the conference room and spoke.
“Let’s begin the meeting.”
*
Ugh, I’m so nervous I could die.
Still, I’d somehow managed to get everyone’s attention.
I wasn’t used to having dozens of people stare at me all at once.
Even in my previous life, I’d hated giving presentations in front of people.
And now, every key executive at KJ Group was gathered here.
‘Stay calm.’
I did my best to hide how nervous I was.
Fortunately, Kang Tae-seong’s appearance helped in moments like this.
A jutting chin.
A face plump with fat.
Menacing, drooping eyes.
Even when I barely changed my expression, people took it as anger rather than nervousness.
Thanks to that, no one noticed my heart pounding like crazy.
‘Good.’
I slowly looked around the conference room.
Head of Production.
Head of Sales.
Head of Procurement.
Head of Human Resources.
Head of Finance.
And Managing Director Song Tae-jin.
It had already been a month since I became Kang Tae-seong.
The employees might have thought I was just the CEO who’d started dieting, but I hadn’t spent that month doing nothing.
Quite the opposite.
I worked out, then headed to the office.
After work, I pored over documents until the early hours of the morning.
And without telling anyone, I put together a secret audit team.
Using Kang Tae-seong’s authority, I quietly brought in auditors from an outside accounting firm and conducted a thorough investigation of the company, separate from the existing audit office.
The results were... appalling.
‘The rot runs deep.’
I opened the files I’d prepared.
The sound of pages turning rang softly through the conference room.
“I called this meeting for one simple reason.”
I paused for a moment.
Every eye was on me.
“To share the results of our audit.”
The atmosphere in the room froze.
A few executives’ expressions tightened almost imperceptibly.
I ignored them and turned to the first page.
“Production.”
The head of Production flinched.
“Kickbacks received during the selection of subcontractors.”
“...!”
“The amount was 120 million won.”
The color drained from the head of Production’s face.
I immediately turned to the next page.
“Procurement.”
The head of Procurement swallowed hard.
“Manipulating raw material prices, embezzling the difference, and drawing up fraudulent contracts.”
This time, I looked at the head of Sales.
“Personal use of the company credit card and falsified expense claims for entertaining clients.”
One person, then another.
Each time I called out a name, the atmosphere in the conference room grew heavier.
Those with guilty consciences trembled, their fingertips twitching as they wiped away cold sweat.
The faces that had tried so hard to look composed all turned ashen.
Meanwhile, the executives with nothing to hide stared at me wide-eyed.
I closed the final file and slowly spoke.
“Everyone. Did you think I’d spent all this time doing nothing but working out?”
The conference room was silent as the grave.
“I’m afraid...”
I looked at the executives one by one as I spoke.
“I was investigating you all that entire month.”
The CEO himself had investigated them and uncovered their corruption. As everyone tried to grasp the shocking reality of it...
“That’s impossible!”
The head of Production shot to his feet.
“You... conducted an audit, sir?”
“There’s no way!”
“Someone must have misled you!”
Voices erupted from all around the conference room.
“This is a misunderstanding!”
“Hahaha, sir! That’s a bit much!”
“R-right! I know a nice bar. Let’s go there! If you’d just hear me out there—”
...
I stared at them in disbelief.
‘You people...’
What did they take me for?
They couldn’t believe that I’d done this at all—not just that their corruption had been exposed.
Kang Tae-seong had secretly put people in place to conduct an audit.
He’d gathered evidence.
He’d kept quiet and laid a trap for an entire month.
That alone seemed to be the greatest shock to them.
Come to think of it, I could understand why.
‘It was like the sun rising in the west.’
What would the original Kang Tae-seong have done? He wouldn’t have cared about the company at all.
At most, he’d have chased after women, gotten drunk, and taken out his frustrations on employees he didn’t like.
So they’d felt safe bleeding the company dry.
They’d believed the dumber the CEO was, the safer they were.
‘They sure had it easy.’
I slowly looked around the conference room.
There were twenty-two executives gathered here.
Nearly half of them were involved in corruption.
Embezzlement.
Breach of fiduciary duty.
Bribery.
Kickbacks from subcontractors.
Fraudulent contracts.
Misuse of company credit cards.
There was no shortage of charges.
If I fired them all immediately, the company would be thrown into turmoil for a while.
There’d be gaps in the workflow, too.
But that didn’t mean I planned to let them off the hook.
Leave a rotten branch alone, and the whole tree will eventually die.
I picked up a document I’d prepared.
“Those of you I named earlier...”
My calm voice rang through the conference room.
“Are relieved of your duties, effective today.”
“...!”
“I’ve forwarded the evidence to the Audit Office and Legal Department. We’ll proceed according to the law and company regulations.”
The conference room erupted into a commotion.
“Sir, please wait!”
“Give me just one chance!”
“It’s a misunderstanding!”
“It’s fabricated! Someone’s trying to frame me!”
The faces that had been so relaxed a moment ago were nowhere to be seen.
All that remained were pale faces and desperate excuses.
I didn’t listen to them to the end.
“First...”
I slowly looked around the conference room and spoke.
“I’ll deal with the parasites bleeding the company dry.”
The conference room soon fell silent enough that not even a breath could be heard.