Chapter 17: Overwhelming Equipment
“Don’t you know me?”
“Other than that I’m your company’s boss?”
“Is there something else?”
“Mr. Kim Minsoo?”
“Huh, really.”
CEO Kim Minsoo exchanged glances with Taeyoon, looking as if he couldn’t believe it.
Well, at his age, maybe he really didn’t know me.
Does he never watch the news?
I’m the heir of a chaebol’s fourth generation, a thorn in the side during tax audits.
A weird guy treated like an entertainer just because he does music.
You’d think he’d have heard about me at least once.
Then again… Taeyoon, you don’t need to know these things. You just need to make music with me in peace!
Thinking something like, “He’s in our department too. A fool who only knows music…”
But then—
“Why… are you looking at me like that?”
Catching Taeyoon’s steady gaze made me flinch without realizing it.
Profound.
His gaze was indescribably deep.
And cold. The emotionless, icy face gave me chills.
Then before long, he switched to a naive expression and broke into a gentle smile.
Suddenly… he looked like an innocent young man.
Then a flash of light seemed to gleam and vanish—it must have been my imagination.
“I think you’re a really cool person.”
“Oh? Even if my fashion sense sucks, you’ve got an eye, huh? This is a limited‑edition knit I bought in Italy, you know…”
“No. Not that.”
“Hm?”
“I mean the rest.”
“Earlier the ten million won, and all those gifts you gave me too. I only did what I had to do as a DJ… Thank you for treating me well.”
At Taeyoon’s sudden bow, Kim Minsoo awkwardly scratched his head.
He had a colorful character.
Sometimes like a foolish goof, but then suddenly so mature…
“What is his real face?”
I became even more curious about Taeyoon.
He said he was twenty‑three this year, right?
It would have been nice if he were a few years younger. That was the first time I felt pity looking at someone.
“Uh‑huh, right.”
“And your clothes are cool too. And you look really young.”
He can even say things like this?
“How old do I look?”
“Late twenties in your 20s?”
“Ah…”
A wave of emotion washed over me like a waterfall.
I couldn’t hold back.
No need to overthink giving support. There’s no need for reasons.
With that kind of character, he can be anything.
Who am I?
A chaebol fourth generation who can generously sponsor a passionate young man in his early twenties.
“We need to go somewhere together.”
“Suddenly?”
“It’s a place Taeyoon would be thrilled to go. A music studio. Great equipment, quiet… What else… Ah, the biggest thing is you can use it without burden. So, why are you getting up? Did I say something wrong?”
Unlike the flustered Kim, Taeyoon gathered his belongings and spoke in an excited voice.
“Do they have monitoring speakers too? I really want to go see. But is it really free?”
“Have I only ever been deceived? Why would I lie to you, Taeyoon?”
“I got tricked once at a restaurant.”
“About what?”
“Well, they asked if I wanted more rice, and since I ate well I thought they were giving it as a service. Later I saw they added a thousand won for the extra bowl.”
“…What?”
“I wondered if something like that might happen here. Like thirty minutes free, and then they charge after that…”
…Comparing extra rice to a studio? Is this right?
Should I laugh or cry?
Is he a fool or a genius?
“Will you sign a contract or something?”
“No. I’m curious. I want to go. It’s my first time going to a studio like this.”
In music, the most important thing is balance.
Balance is so sensitive that if it slips even a little, the whole system collapses.
Human ears are more sensitive than you think.
If there’s even one point that bothers them, they skip to the next track.
Because the melody progression isn’t their style, the lyrics don’t resonate, or the beat is chaotic.
I understand when someone doesn’t listen for those reasons.
Taste should be respected.
But if there’s just something irritating to the ear, that’s another matter.
“I wonder how Lunatic Beat will sound through monitoring speakers.”
If this were cooking, it’s not about seasoning or sauce, but about ingredients so stale that no one can enjoy them in the first place.
Sure, you can partially hide it with strong flavors, but—
The point is: the basics must be good.
“What are you so deeply thinking about?”
“I’m looking forward to the studio.”
“Taeyoon, you do get excited.”
“The best part is touching new equipment.”
He looked out the window. There was a river.
He straightened up from the soft seat he’d been leaning on.
Is the studio in Gangnam?
“You’ll be surprised when you see it.”
“Aren’t you rich, CEO?”
“I’m not the rich one… my grandfather is.”
Ah. These days, being richer than your parents and having a rich grandfather is considered the best, huh.
Looks like that’s really true.
I don’t know much about cars, but that one sure looked expensive. And even in Ilsan, running a club requires serious resources. That much I could tell.
So I became more curious.
“But why do you run a club? I mean, did you run one? Or still do? Or is it in the past? I’m kind of confused. I’m also an employee, so is it okay to ask this much? Sort of… for job stability…”
Rich people usually do respectable things, right?
Take over a family business, or become a doctor, or a professor.
Everyone rich I know did that.
One of my peers went abroad for an MBA or something. The richer you are, the less you act idle.
How did I know?
I saw it on TV.
Anyway, he was a mysterious person in all these ways.
To my curiosity, CEO Kim Minsoo answered like this:
“Because it’s good, so I do it. Why look for a reason? Don’t you feel the same, Taeyoon?”
Huh? Was that it?
“Even a small club has music, dance, people.”
“That’s right.”
“I like that. People in clubs laugh. They look comfortable. Many young friends. And…”
He turned the wheel skillfully and made a U‑turn, then continued in a whisper:
“My kind of rebellion?”
I didn’t ask further.
Somehow…
Contrasted with his luxurious clothes, his dark expression looked very sad.
The moment Taeyoon appeared in the lobby of KIM Entertainment, everyone’s attention focused on him at once.
Our CEO finally brought in a proper guy — someone with that upright expression and striking appearance.
On top of that, his natural gait.
Taeyoon’s appearance alone was enough to stir up anticipation.
Even standing next to the CEO, his presence didn’t falter.
He simply walked through the lobby with a calm expression.
It was enough to make people question.
‘Who is that… Is he really a trainee?’
Seeing the employees’ reactions, Kim Minsoo looked pleased.
He had expected this, but not to this extent.
A creator who’s also good-looking? Game over.
But Taeyoon had something else on his mind.
“You’re not Sierra’s CEO, but the CEO of Kim Entertainment?”
“I’m both Sierra’s CEO and Kim Entertainment’s. Ah, but officially, right now I’m only the CEO of Kim Entertainment.”
“Then that tax audit incident too?”
“Well, could be for the reason you’re thinking of?”
Even as the two stood in front of the elevator—
Eyes kept following them.
A few employees gave 90-degree bows, but—
No one could step forward to ask who he was.
Just then, a familiar silhouette appeared on Taeyoon’s radar.
“Oh? You’re here early.”
“Hyung…”
It was Yoon Seonghan, current CEO of Club Sierra.
“Yoon Seonghan slacking off work again?”
“Ah, CEO, it was a meeting. A meeting. It’s nice to see Taeyoon here.”
“Try calming them down, will you.”
“They already grabbed me, asking who he is, and made a fuss.”
“What did you say?”
“I said he wasn’t an idol trainee, and they looked all disappointed.”
Kim Minsoo chuckled in amusement.
The employees’ reactions gave him a thrill. Like, “I knew my eye wasn’t wrong.”
“Call Manager Taemin up. To my studio.”
“Your studio? That place? Seriously? That’s odd.”
Yoon Seonghan tilted his head.
Kim Minsoo was a generous person. Likely thanks to the ease he was born with.
He didn’t fuss over trivial things or make people feel left out.
But the studio was different.
Even the cleaning ajummas weren’t allowed in.
He swept and wiped it himself. Only permitted people could enter.
He guarded it like a sacred relic—yet now a meeting in the CEO’s studio? This was unthinkable.
“Yeah. Hurry. Urgent. Hurry up.”
Yoon Seonghan thought to himself.
Could it be… the CEO is giving the studio to Taeyoon?
No way. That couldn’t be.
Do you know what kind of equipment is in there? No way he’d just give it up.
But still…
‘There must be a reason the CEO is putting in so much effort.’
A growing sense of expectation kept rising.
Hadn’t it already been proven with Lunatic Beat?
What would happen if that monstrous kid met a monstrous studio?
He’d already achieved that much with just basic home equipment.
Add Kim Minsoo’s support to that… and he could stir up the entire industry like a fish in water.
“I’ll be up shortly. The coffee…”
“You must’ve forgotten—it’s been so long—but no food or drink in my studio.”
“Ah, oh—then I’ll be back quickly.”
Taeyoon made up his mind.
He absolutely would not act surprised.
He’d pretend like he’d seen stuff like this a hundred times, like it wasn’t anything new.
He’d show a stern, serious, professional demeanor.
That was his vow, definitely his intention…
“Wow, damn… This is insane.”
The moment he saw the massive mixing console in the center of the studio, it felt like fireworks exploded in his brain.
An SSL console.
A piece worth over 200 million won was right there before his eyes.
So much for serious and composed.
There was no way to stay calm before such overwhelming gear.
A masterpiece that perfectly blended the warmth of analog with the precision of digital.
And it even had 48 channels!
“You recognized this?”
Kim Minsoo feigned a surprised expression.
He didn’t expect a club DJ to know this stuff.
“Of course.”
Even while answering, Taeyoon’s eyes never stopped scanning the equipment.
The monitoring systems lined along the wall looked so precious he wanted to play his own music right away.
Top-tier models costing over 50 million won per pair.
They provided accurate and transparent sound.
Even the sub-speakers had been chosen with care.
“That’s the Yamaha NS-10M, right? I heard it’s a real masterpiece.”
“You even know the product name…?”
“Yes. Wow, that synthesizer’s insane. Is that really a CS-80? And there’s a Jupiter too. CEO, what do you actually do?”
Just how much does this kid know?
Kim Minsoo watched Taeyoon’s behavior with great satisfaction.
“The headphones are HD820… and there are two Apple displays!”
No doubt about it. He’s an otaku. A music otaku.
There’s no way he’s not the real deal.
Reciting product names one after another like that—he clearly knows his music.
What is this? Was he secretly hiding his power level?
Kim Minsoo asked.
“How do you know all this?”
“Uh… just kinda?”
A home-studio musician always knows more than the pros. Especially when it comes to equipment.
They’re never going to own it, never even touch it in their life.
So they just drool over it online as much as they can.
Anyway, seeing equipment worth hundreds of millions of won made Taeyoon’s heart swell with awe.
Kim Minsoo thought, “The time has come…”
If he really was a music otaku, he wouldn’t be able to walk away from these.
He’d want to press the keys, mess with the controllers, flip on the headphones. That’s how otakus are.
The rest would unfold quickly.
He’d come back, unable to forget that feeling. That was Kim Minsoo’s plan.
“Um, CEO.”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
“I have a favor to ask.”
There it is! Finally! It’s happening!
Kim Minsoo hid his scheming heart as he replied.
“Use anything you want. Touch it all you like.”
But Taeyoon said—
“No, no. Not that.”
“Huh?”
“Can I take a picture of this? It’s just so amazing.”
Still defying all expectations.