Chapter 178

Young-bin had been uncharacteristically preoccupied lately.

It couldn’t be helped. If he were to accept the position as Director, it would be impossible to step down afterward. Rejecting outright would already raise eyebrows, but accepting and then leaving would essentially be declaring war against Raywill Games.

Thus, Young-bin only had two choices: accept or decline. The position of Director at a major game company—what might be a lifetime goal for some. But Young-bin’s hesitance stemmed from something else entirely.

Simply put, he couldn’t let go of the dreams he had nurtured during his school days—to create his own company, to work alongside his colleagues making games again. Though this was a small desire, it weighed heavily on him. Of course, he had mostly put it to rest by now. “I’ll just be a game director. What kind of adventure is this nonsense?” he would think.

With two daughters and a wife, clinging to the past felt like a lost cause. Still, he consoled himself that way until…

“Seoyeon too, and that kid as well.”

He never imagined they’d end up facing each other in the final round of *Masked Singer*. When Seoyeon sang a song during the competition, Young-bin was genuinely surprised—but it made sense to him.

“Opening.”

It wasn’t an official title; due to the rushed nature of its completion, the song had merely been labeled “Opening” and inserted into the game. But no other title seemed more fitting.

Yet who would have guessed it would be performed at *Masked Singer*, among all places? Especially since it was such an obscure song.

“No, you’ll regret this. How dare you leave me.”

A vivid memory from twenty years ago resurfaced—of that always-arrogant girl in tears, saying…

“You don’t even need to tell me. I’ll show everyone by living well, making you regret it. This isn’t the end!”

A show of fierce pride.

“Wait and see, you idiot!!!”

The image of her yelling after Young-bin as he left for Seoul remained etched in his mind. He later heard she moved to Seoul too, and some years afterward, seeing her successful life on TV, he assumed everything turned out fine. But now…

“Regret, huh.”

Chuckling softly, Young-bin stepped out of the elevator at the office. Passing through the transparent glass walls, he entered the now-familiar planning room.

“…”

“…”

The atmosphere felt oddly quiet. As soon as he walked in, heads immediately turned toward him. Hoping to greet everyone casually with a wave, his hand froze mid-air before awkwardly dropping.

“What’s going on? Why is everyone gathered here?”

Fumbling with his words, Young-bin watched as the employees shifted uneasily, creating some distance between them. That was when he noticed: a monitor turned on, and multiple articles displayed across screens.

It was about yesterday’s broadcast of the *Masked Singer* finals.

‘Ah.’

It took him a moment to connect the dots. Young-bin hadn’t watched the live airing; he’d had something else on his mind that evening. He must have fallen asleep early. Reflecting now, he vaguely recalled Seoyeon mentioning something during the King of Masks showdown while he was engrossed cheering for Yeo-hee.

“What exactly did my daughter say again?”

Sua refused to answer when he asked her. Apparently, their conversation went like this:

“Did Dad do something terrible?”

The articles read as follows:

[‘Ashen Crow’ – Is It Yeo-hee?]

[Netizens Reveal the Startling Past of Popular Singer Yeo-hee!]

[Yeo-hee’s Song Evokes Memories of Her School Days]

So far, so believable. There had been plenty of clues already. Yeo-hee’s song, Sua’s comments in *Golden Baby Duck*—through these, it wasn’t hard to deduce that “Ashen Crow” referred to Yeo-hee.

Tracing Sua’s past would lead to the gaming club, which only had four members, making it easy to pinpoint Yeo-hee among them.

The stunning revelation, however, involved her history, detailed to the fullest extent. How did they find out? Yeo-hee being a famous singer, it wasn’t entirely surprising.

After all, scars from one’s past tend to stick like scars.

“Team Leader…”

“No, hold on a moment. Is everything we read online really true? This could be a huge misunderstanding.”

Stretching out a hand, Young-bin tried to pacify the uneasy crowd. “Think carefully. It’s all speculation at this point. Sure, we were classmates in high school, but…”

At that moment, an employee pulled up a video on their phone. It showed Yeo-hee today, in an apparent interview, resignedly recounting her past.

“Ah, yes, this was a song I sang in high school. Back then, I was part of the gaming club…”

Initially, she seemed to want to wrap things up quickly, but her discomfort betrayed her as the journalist probed deeper, unraveling everything.

‘So this is the revenge she promised?’

Twenty years later, it almost felt like poetic justice.

“This is ridiculous.”

Young-bin said seriously, but his team’s gazes remained unchanged.

Well, of course. Everyone at the company knew Sua, the stunning beauty. Even her private life had been publicly exposed through *Golden Baby Duck*.

“Is such an unfair life even possible?”

“My wife might scratch me when she comes home, but at least it’s reasonable.”

Sua, younger than him and seemingly ageless, had the looks of a celebrity. One of their daughters was a well-known actress in Korea, and the other was impossibly cute!

While everyone could forgive these blessings to a degree, now there was talk of a female singer from high school? And the song she sang in the final round carried so much meaning.

What kind of person reminisces about high school by singing during such a crucial stage?

Even if it were a variety show, anyone with an ounce of sense would connect the dots after seeing who else was seated in the audience that day: Young-bin and Sua themselves.

How many singers randomly perform unknown tracks on such a major stage out of nostalgia?

No matter how you looked at it, internet reactions were bound to explode.

– You Young-bin, what the hell are you doing?

– Is this really happening? Did they make this up for WWE?

– No, she seemed genuinely caught off guard during the interview.

– What the heck did he even do in high school???

The biggest reaction came from two places: Yeo-hee’s fan community and the game community surrounding Raywill Games.

In particular, the game communities were notorious breeding grounds for firestorms.

– I tolerated your relationship with Seoyeon and Sua, but now THIS?

– What’s going on?

– This is all thanks to Shin Young-bin, right?

Latecomers browsing the community threads were left scratching their heads, especially those uninterested in celebrities or TV shows.

But once the rumors spread widely across various forums…

– In summary, in high school, Young-bin was part of a gaming club with three girls. One is his wife now, another is Yeo-hee. What about the third one?

– She apparently handled storylines and is said to write novels now.

– This seems pretty normal.

– True, except that she was his childhood friend.

– Shit…

– So, there were three girls and only one guy. And all three liked Young-bin???

– Well… some of it’s speculation, but judging by Yeo-hee’s reaction, their connection wasn’t ordinary. Haha…

Once the story broke, rumors spread like wildfire. Of course, for anyone who attended the same high school or was part of the internet generation, it was impossible to resist gossiping.

I even found a post certified by the presenter herself, complete with her high school ID.

And this:

– WHERE ARE YOU, YOUNG-BIN?

– Just give him some rocks!

– This is unacceptable, man. What’s going on with us?

– Didn’t this guy say he was working on a new game? What a bastard.

The online community was ablaze. Meanwhile, edited clips of Young-bin’s earlier, apologetic public appearances began resurfacing.

“Seoyeon, are you alright?”

“What do you mean?”

Seoyeon was enjoying her ice cream, totally absorbed in its sweetness.

***

The aftermath of *Masked Singer* was fiercer than expected. Normally, the parents of a star wouldn’t draw much attention.

This story, however, gained momentum thanks to both Seoyeon and Yeo-hee’s influence. Yeo-hee held significant weight in the music industry, having ventured into international waters temporarily. Her popularity made waves consistently on certain channels.

While much of the focus initially centered on Yeo-hee, Seoyeon didn’t escape the limelight either. After all, she lost to Yeo-hee by merely two votes.

– Did you know Seoyeon Joo could sing this well?

– Losing by two votes practically counts as winning!

– Yeah, but Yeo-hee sang her heart out…

Generally, performers choosing highly recognizable songs are allowed. Winning with such a close margin, though, did make for some hilarious drama.

Of course, the incredible performance Seoyeon delivered during the finals played a big role.

“Seoyeon!”

Jo Seohui arrived on her bicycle, abandoning her usual Benz—likely hearing about the commotion.

“Is this real? Really real? Tell me!”

To everyone’s surprise—even Seoyeon, who usually reacted coldly to Seohui’s enthusiasm—her eagerness was uncontainable.

“So will you introduce me to Yeo-hee, the senior?”

Clearly, both Seohui and Jiyeon recognized Yeo-hee’s immense fame.

‘Knowing Seohui, she’s probably just trying to expand her network.’

But Seoyeon had no interest in reconnecting with Yeo-hee. To her, she was just another old clubmate.

Until she read online comments, that is. Her perspective shifted, and she began to see it differently.

Of course, when she returned home, Sua greeted her with a reproachful gaze, which made Seoyeon slightly uneasy. Yet simultaneously, she was also pleased by the newfound connection with Yeo-hee, though mixed with a complicated mix of emotions.

‘It’s all because Yeo-hee beat me.’

She knew losing was inevitable, but her competitive spirit was fierce. Her comment was made out of spite, but she never imagined it would snowball this much.

Though she had thought it over and deemed it relatively harmless, it’s still amusing how things have escalated.

“But I think I handled it well,” Seoyeon admitted.

Unable to let Jo Seohui leave on her bike, Seoyeon led her to a nearby McDonald’s. Chewing on a burger, Seohui continued,

“It’s good for your image. Honestly, this won’t hurt you much. It’s all exaggerated, and it’s from decades ago. Safer topics don’t exist.”

She had a point. None of the involved parties were directly harmed. People might just feel sorry for Yeo-hee.

‘Even Dad could be considered a victim.’

Lately, Seoyeon’s hobby has been watching AI-generated clips of her dad greeting everyone. Watching him perfectly in sync to music on both monitors and TVs brought her endless joy.

When Young-bin came home, the sight of him reacting to these edited videos almost doubled her amusement. The tables had finally turned on someone who usually teased her.

“And synergies with ‘Sky Garden’ are going well.”

“Not really related, though.”

“But the interest peaked. Search volume skyrocketed.”

Until now, *Grand Game* had been leading by a wide margin. However, after *Masked Singer* aired, *Sky Garden* closed the gap and even started overtaking it.

“Did you see last week’s episode? The one where they went on a trip? It ended with a hint of some major event.”

Seohui was a dedicated watcher, even recording episodes for studying and matching Seoyeon’s acting performances.

Of course, the most important factor was the show’s entertainment value. Seohui was a true fan of *Sky Garden*. She had already pre-ordered all related albums.

“The next episode will be critical. You raised expectations; now you need to deliver. Can you?”

Seoyeon took a large bite of her hamburger in response.

“No problem.”

This week’s episodes 11 and 12 were sure to be explosive. Kim Hyun-seok, playing Min-hyeok, was also gaining traction. His recent performance, vividly capturing his character’s inferiority complex, was nothing short of masterful—it almost felt real.

With the storyline building off the previous episode’s climax, Seoyeon was confident. She was confident enough to demolish *Grand Game* entirely.

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