The boardroom of Hanseong Logistics had not been full in years.
Today, every seat was occupied.
Executives sat stiffly around the long table, eyes darting between one another, unease thick in the air. News had spread fast, and the chairman's second son was taking charge.
At exactly nine a.m., the doors opened.
Ji-hoon entered.
No entourage. No unnecessary display. Just a tailored suit and an unreadable expression.
Conversations stopped instantly.
Park Dong-sik stood up. "Everyone, this is Kang Ji-hoon, acting director of Hanseong Logistics."
A few polite claps followed. Most people simply watched.
Ji-hoon took the seat at the head of the table.
"Sit," he said calmly.
They obeyed before realizing they had.
Ji-hoon turned on the screen behind him. A financial report appeared with numbers in red, graphs plunging downward.
"This company has six problems," he began. "But today, we'll talk about three."
Murmurs spread.
He tapped the remote.
PROBLEM ONE: CASH FLOW
"We will run out of liquid funds in forty-two days," Ji-hoon said. "That's the truth you haven't been told."
An executive frowned. "That's impossible. Our projections show"
"Your projections are wrong," Ji-hoon cut in gently. "Because they assume our largest client stays."
Silence.
Ji-hoon tapped again.
PROBLEM TWO: FALSE SECURITY
"That client will attempt to terminate their contract next Friday."
Park's heart nearly stopped.
A board member scoffed. "That's speculation."
Ji-hoon met his gaze. "No. That's panic."
He leaned forward slightly. "They're hiding internal corruption. Terminating us removes evidence."
Cold sweat formed on several foreheads.
Ji-hoon pressed the button again.
PROBLEM THREE: INCOMPETENT OPTIMISM
"This one," he said, "is on you."
The words landed like a slap.
One executive stood up angrily. "You're accusing us?"
Ji-hoon looked at him calmly. "I'm dismissing you."
The room exploded.
"You can't!"
"This is absurd!"
"He has no authority!"
Ji-hoon waited.
Then he slid a document across the table.
"Your resignation letter," he said. "Signed by you. Dated two weeks from now."
The man's face drained of color.
"That's… impossible."
Ji-hoon's voice dropped. "You were planning to leave after the audit failed."
No one spoke.
Ji-hoon stood.
"I won't pretend this company is healthy," he said. "But it is salvageable."
He turned to Seo Yoon-ah, who sat silently at the side.
"Ms. Seo," he said, "you'll lead a temporary restructuring task force."
Several executives protested. "She's too junior!"
Ji-hoon's eyes hardened. "Then learn from her."
The screen changed again.
ACTION PLAN: 30 DAYS
Sell Incheon Warehouse
Renegotiate freight contracts
Freeze executive bonuses
Internal audit (external firm)
Gasps echoed.
"Freeze bonuses?!" someone shouted.
Ji-hoon nodded. "Including mine."
That shut them up.
He closed the presentation.
"Anyone who wants to leave," he said, "may do so today."
He paused.
"But those who stay will rise with me."
Silence.
Then, slowly, one executive clapped.
Then another.
Not out of loyalty.
Out of fear.
As the meeting ended, Ji-hoon walked out without looking back.
Outside the boardroom, Seo Yoon-ah caught up with him.
"You embarrassed them," she said quietly.
"I warned them," Ji-hoon replied.
She studied him. "You're not what I expected."
Ji-hoon glanced at her. "Neither is the future."
For the first time, Yoon-ah smiled.
The shock had spread.
And Seoul had just noticed a new name.