People’s Entertainment is dead in the water following a failed audit. Now, the vultures descend. Our heroes must navigate a bidding war, whilst avoiding playing into the hands of a certain villainous Vice President. But in this game of corporate thrones, nothing is more powerful… than paperwork.
EPISODES 3-4
The fallout of People’s Entertainment’s failed audit is immense. This, as Seung-jo remarks, is more than just sternly-worded paper… it’s war! Taeil must justify last year’s squeaky-clean report, whilst Vice President Han strives to pacify his old ally, CHAIRMAN LEE CHAN-JOO (Jung Hae-kyun). After all, the latter’s spendthrift son can’t be expected to keep himself out of prison. As Hyun’s team huddle in dread, professional minion Hyeong-woo whips out his best “report this to HR, and you’ll bleed” voice. It’s a shame, he intones, that last year’s files are missing the board meeting minutes. It would be so job-preservingly convenient if these very-unfalsified notes were to resurface.
Meanwhile, there’s the matter of People’s Entertainment’s hungry, hungry creditors. Jisan Bank has agreed to sell the firm’s bad debt to the highest bidder — with Taeil representing both Jisan, and Sanga, the potential buyer. Fraternization between the selling and buying teams is strictly forbidden. And yet, in the romantic confines of the office elevator, two accountants from opposite camps exchange star-crossed glances…! Okay, so it’s Ho-woo and Yeon-ah, and it’s mostly a little awkward. Our hero — lieutenant of the buying team — refuses to meet her eyes, presumably lest he intuit the minimum selling price from, say, the angle of her smile.
Poorly-repressed sexual tension makes for bad reflexes: Yeon-ah drops a confidential document, plunging Ho-woo into moral crisis. Could stealing the selling price help ingratiate himself with Hyeong-woo? Perhaps. But in the end, he shuffles it back to her desk, unread. Yeon-ah is pleasantly shocked. When Seung-jo, who witnessed the whole thing, asks him why, he replies that real power means influence — not selling out someone else.
Inspired by Ho-woo’s advice on how to make friends and manipulate people, Seung-jo visits JUNG JAE-KI (Kim Gyeol) of Jisan Bank. You know all those dodgy loans Jae-ki has racked up across his career? (No, no need to protest — it’s very obvious those exist.) Seung-jo has the perfect method of making them vanish: he’ll pave the way for Jae-ki to include them in the People’s Entertainment debt package. In return, Seung-jo will become the go-to accountant on all things Jisan Bank.
Vice President Han is mightily perturbed by this scheme. Chairman Lee has been annoyingly cagey of late about whether he’ll bid for People’s Entertainment; if the package gets any less appealing, there’ll be hell to pay. But Seung-jo knows better. This isn’t about buying debt, he informs his father with relish. It’s about the right to read the ledgers. Paper, after all, is power! Well-known fact: Chairman Lee has a talented younger brother, LEE SEONG-JOO, who was ousted from Sanga Group — seemingly, by Vice President Han’s design. With access to those handy documents, there’s no telling what dirt he can dredge up on Chairman Lee’s son.
Seung-jo is far from finished. Cracking his knuckles, he embarks on his next task: saving Ho-woo’s soul. The high school grad, he declares to Hyeong-woo, works for me from now on. The last thing I want is for him to become you. Luckily, he’s not expecting Ho-woo’s gratitude. During another of their accidental rooftop hangouts, Ho-woo accuses Seung-jo of trying to suss out Sanga’s buying price. Seung-jo laughs. Not his intention. Accountant’s honor! Now, if you’re quite done, he adds, I have a meeting.
I respect Seung-jo’s habit of stealing the last word, then making a stylish exit. Ho-woo, who doesn’t, grabs his arm. I had a plan, he gripes. Why are you doing this to me? Seung-jo’s reply is shockingly sincere. If you stay where you are, you’ll get hurt. There’ll be no one to stop you from falling.
Ho-woo is moved. The last thing he expected from a Taeil accountant was human kindness! And so, he warily agrees to assist in the most complicated bid proposal known to man or bureaucrat… under the name of Lee Seung-joo. It starts with a trip to the auction. It ends with a teeth-rattling car crash. In the middle of it all is a high-speed chase, with agents from Sanga group trying to run our heroes off the road. However, with a little help from his friends, a decoy envelope, and a pebble claiming to be a vehicular obstruction, Woo-jin arrives at the auction hall — sweaty, bloodstained, proposal in hand.
Consequently, Chairman Lee snaps. At the thought of his brother gaining those ledgers, all rationality leaves the building. Despite Hyeong-woo’s frantic remonstrations, he’s intent on making an offer Jisan can’t refuse: 90.1 billion won. It’s a number to end all numbers. It’s also exactly what our heroes were counting on. Few things are as satisfying as the look on Chairman Lee’s face when his brother’s bid is announced at below minimum selling price: 33 billion. Seung-joo had zero intention of purchasing People’s Entertainment. Still, when Seung-jo asked to borrow his name for a game of financial chicken… well, it seemed entertaining.
Ho-woo and Seung-jo exchange triumphant glances. Accountancy etiquette forbids them from fistbumping in the auction room, but the mood is totally there. Alas, their victory is tarnished when Vice President Han approaches Seung-jo, and declares him truly his father’s son. After all, the higher the bid, the heftier the commission for Taeil. Seung-jo looks like he just trod on something slimy.
Soon, Ho-woo has exactly the same look. Employees from Jisan flock to Seung-jo, admiring his ruthlessness. It’s exactly that attitude, says one, that we saw when you ordered the liquidation of Haebit! Ho-woo freezes. As everyone else leaves, he rounds on Seung-jo. How, he asks, could you do it? And don’t tell me it made financial sense. If it did, those records would be on file — and yet, there’s nothing. So, answer me now. Where is that report?
Seung-jo’s reaction is very cool and collected. In fact, he’s cool and collected right up until he returns home, whereupon he has a cool and collected panic attack in his kitchen. Luckily, he isn’t left to his own devices. EUN SUK-MIN (Seo Eun-woo), his sole friend at the firm, gets alarmed when he doesn’t call. She finds him sprawled on the floor, anti-anxiety meds just out of reach.
Shaky but conscious, he prepares to take a long break from work — fifteen minutes, even. However, back at his desk, he’s plagued by flashbacks. Years ago, he was overworked but profoundly happy, engaged to the love of his life. This was none other than JANG JI-SOO (Kim Yuri), daughter of Haebit’s Mr. Jang. But after her father’s suicide, she vanished.
Now, Seung-jo is overseeing a new project: a deep dive into the finances of Soma Tech. And despite Ho-woo’s hostility, he has the perfect incentive to help. For every hour of work he puts in, he’ll win a page of Seung-jo’s report on Haebit Construction. In the meantime, he gets to assess the intricacies of 3D construction with Yeon-ah, who’s upped her flirtation game. I sympathize, she breezes, with your crush on me. I’ve had work crushes too! But, you ought to focus. Ho-woo looks momentarily like someone whacked him on the head with an eco-friendly concrete nozzle. But then, he grins: who was your work crush? Han Seung-jo, replies Yeon-ah, before immediately regretting it. Ho-woo snickers.
The man of Yeon-ah’s daydreams finally relinquishes the full report on Haebit. But as Ho-woo discovers, it’s no simple undertaking: there are two. One claims Haebit is limited, but has potential for growth. The other chalks it up as a dead loss, recommending closure. There’s something dodgy afoot; it would have been more profitable to keep Haebit alive. Moreover, the second report lacks a barcode: the unmistakable mark of paperwork approved by a partner… or someone close to them. A son, perhaps?
What’s more, it seems history is repeating itself. Hyeong-woo is seething with humiliation, and ready to make it everyone’s problem. Following the auction debacle, he was forced to cower at the feet of Chairman Lee. Vice President Han, with his usual ice-cold candor, has ordered him to find a get-rich-quick win, or kiss his dreams of making partner goodbye. And so, he’s opted to slit the throat of Soma Tech. If they can give it a low workout grade — flying in the face of both logic, and Seung-jo’s report — it’ll make the perfect prey for HK Private Equity.
If Seung-jo is looking especially murderous, it’s because he’s heard this tune before. Morally ambiguous swagger or no, he wasn’t the one who knifed Haebit Construction. Hyeong-woo is halfway up a climbing wall, enjoying some light exercise, when Seung-jo comes barreling in — with a baffled Ho-woo in tow. The second he returns to solid ground, he receives a punch in the face. Where, demands Seung-jo, is your pride as an accountant? I thought I saw you at your lowest when you switched out my Haebit report.
Hyeong-woo is ablaze with self-pity and rage. Do you really think I wanted to do that, he asks — during your mother’s funeral, no less? Corporate yes-men are human too! He’s the real victim here! When Vice President Han gave the order, no mere mortal could refuse. Actually, the only one who could — and survive, career intact — would be Seung-jo. Still, as Seung-jo sneers, it’s not like that’ll change if he makes partner. People like him can never stop. Last word secured, he storms away.
Ho-woo is hot on his heels, demanding answers. Has he really been mad at the wrong person all this time? Flatly, Seung-jo shakes his head. You found the right person. I never once thought I wasn’t culpable. Then, he throws out a startling olive branch: do you drink? Back at Seung-jo’s flat, our boys bond over a bottle of wine — and as the night wears on, Ho-woo waxes philosophical. No matter how nicely I walk, he muses, I always end up splattered with mud. Someone like you couldn’t understand. Seung-jo is silent in the face of this character assassination: he’s dead asleep. Sighing, Ho-woo puts a blanket over his shoulders. Then, a framed photo catches his eye. Could that be — Ji-soo?
The two reconvene at the place that is rapidly becoming their spot: the roof. Here, Seung-jo confesses that he recognized Ho-woo from the start. What’s more, he recognized himself: someone whose anger had no agency. It’s obvious their goals align. To be clear, this totally isn’t about trust! (Ho-woo nods. Yup, no trust.) It’s more like a contract. Ho-woo wants to make Taeil pay — and with it, Vice President Han. Seung-jo can work with that.
Just as well, because our villains are gearing up for war. The battlefield is set: a meeting concerning the fate of Soma Tech, to which Hyeong-woo has invited JOYCE JANG of HK Equity. Joyce is a ruthless assassin of firms: a corporate rising star, rumored to wear a sword-shaped brooch on the days where she’s especially cutthroat. We see her emerge from the car. A dark, expensive suit. Deadly heels. A waterfall of hair. And indeed, the infamous brooch, fixed firmly in place. Beanies, I realized it at the last possible moment, and screeched. Because Joyce Jang, killer of the corporate world, is none other than Ji-soo. Seung-jo’s face falls as she holds out a hand. He grabs her wrist. She looks utterly grim.
Words cannot describe my delight at Ji-soo’s return. I’m in love already. She looks like she could murder everyone in the room, unblinking, and quite frankly I would applaud. Besides, I’m desperate to see a female character in this show do something besides provide emotional support for the men! Yeon-ah is fun — I love how she says the most audacious things — but she’s criminally underutilized. Ji-soo has the potential to be a major player, and I can’t wait to see how she and Seung-jo clash. So yes, this drama’s treatment of women gets a disclaimer of opinion from me… but as their fond investor, I hope they can get their accounts in order next week.
As for our leads — I cannot get enough of their budding mutual tolerance! The chemistry is pitch perfect; I’ve such a soft spot for the way they’re snapping at each other one moment, and smiling helplessly the next. There are a million reasons for them not to care about one another, which is why it’ll be so dang satisfying when they start to. Seung-jo in particular is a delight: he’s cool, he’s complex, and I’m a real fan of those moments where his face crumples like a wet paper bag. However, I have a confession: Hyeong-woo might just be my problematic fave. It was inevitable. There’s nothing I love more than an arrogant secondary villain who suffers nigh-constant humiliation. This drama is a blast so far, and the ongoing “accountancy is war” metaphor is a thing of ridiculousness and beauty. Let’s see how next week’s battle unfolds!