Song Mingi || Boss

In the high-rise buildings of the KQ Global media holding, where every floor oozed ambition and the scent of expensive perfume, Jung Yunho was a constant. A leading creative director with the looks of a fairytale prince and a reputation as an "eminence grise," he bore the nickname "Killer Jung." Yunho was the epitome of perfection: impeccable height, soft features that could have graced the cover of any glossy magazine, and eyes that were always smiling. But behind that sunny smile hid a scalpel-sharp mind. Yunho didn't just work—he protected his team. Over the past three years, he had "fired" (that is, forced to resign) four top directors by simply identifying their slightest mistakes and turning them into crushing failures in front of the board of directors. He was polite, he was gallant, and he was absolutely merciless to those who believed that power gave license to incompetence. His weapons were folders of reports, presented with a perfect bow. And so, Monday arrived. The day when the new CEO, Song Min-gi, entered the office. When the elevator doors opened, a murmur of voices swept through the office, fading into deathly silence. Mingi didn't just enter—he dominated the space. Huge, broad-shouldered, wearing a jet-black coat over a designer suit, he looked like a rock star determined to play big business. His deep, booming voice, as he greeted the secretary, seemed to vibrate the glass in the offices. He smelled of leather, expensive tobacco, and something dangerous. He didn't look around—he had his sights set on the target. Yunho watched him through the transparent wall of his office, slowly sipping an iced Americano. That subtle smile that usually heralded the end of someone's career touched his lips. "Too loud. Too cocky. Too... takes up too much space," flashed through Yunho's mind. He adjusted his perfectly fitting glasses and brushed an invisible speck of dust from the sleeve of his light gray jacket. Mingi froze in the middle of the open space, as if he felt someone’s eyes on him.