Victor glanced toward Sarah, who had appeared at the doorway. His eyes then shifted to Henry, slowly sweeping over him from head to toe.
"Director Sarah, is this the new talent you told me about?"
His tone was noticeably unfriendly, clearly reflecting the mood he was already in.
Sarah didn't seem bothered by it at all. She simply nodded.
"Yes. He's quite talented. We haven't had the opportunity to see what he can produce yet, but since he just started and currently has nothing assigned to him, I thought I'd bring him here so he could familiarize himself with the department."
Victor's expression remained grim.
"Fine."
He didn't say anything else.
He barely even looked at Henry, giving only a brief nod out of respect for Sarah before turning his attention back to the composers.
"Let him find somewhere to sit."
The moment he finished speaking, Victor slammed his hand against the table again.
"You're all supposed to be the elites of this company!"
Everyone immediately straightened.
"Do you really intend to hand over the deals we've already secured to those bastards at RockMedia?"
His voice thundered through the room.
"I know every one of you is capable! That's why I've given you this much freedom. But you've become too comfortable!"
Victor pointed toward the pile of rejected compositions.
"You think being a senior composer means you can sit around collecting a salary and wait for inspiration to fall out of the sky?"
Nobody dared respond.
"From now on, every one of you will produce two complete song proposals for me! Lyrics, melody, arrangement direction—the whole package!"
Victor's eyes narrowed.
"And until I see something that can actually be submitted, nobody leaves this meeting room!"
The short, stout man was absolutely furious.
A tall, thin man wearing glasses shifted nervously in his chair before slowly raising his hand.
"Director Victor... I... I need to use the restroom."
The entire room suddenly became silent.
Victor slowly turned his head toward him.
His expression was so cold that the man immediately regretted speaking.
"The restroom?"
The tall man nodded nervously.
"Yes."
Victor stared at him for several seconds before letting out a humorless laugh.
"Interesting."
He pointed toward the door.
"Apparently your bladder has better timing than your songwriting ability."
The man's face reddened.
Victor leaned back in his chair.
"If you can't hold it, then hold your dignity instead. We're not leaving until this meeting is over."
The tall man immediately lowered his head.
"Yes, Director Victor."
Henry watched the exchange from the side.
Surprisingly, he remained completely calm.
The atmosphere was certainly tense, but he'd seen worse.
Back on Earth, he'd spent years dealing with unreasonable bosses, impossible deadlines, office politics, and managers who could turn a minor mistake into a company-wide disaster.
Compared with those experiences, Victor's shouting barely made his heart rate change.
Henry quietly found an empty seat beside the tall man with glasses and sat down.
After looking around for a moment, he leaned closer.
"What kind of theme song are you guys working on?"
The tall man pushed his glasses higher on his nose and glanced at Henry.
"It's for a youth campus romance movie. Director Johnson wants us to write the main theme song."
"Oh?"
"Our department has already written dozens of drafts," the man whispered, looking miserable. "But Director Johnson rejected every single one."
"Dozens?"
The man nodded.
"He's extremely particular. You could call him a perfectionist. He knows exactly when something doesn't feel right, but sometimes even he can't clearly explain what he wants changed."
He sighed.
"So we keep rewriting and submitting new versions."
As he spoke, the man shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
Henry glanced at him.
He really needs to use the bathroom.
Apparently, Victor's threat had worked.
Before Henry could say anything, the man on his other side leaned over and quietly joined the conversation.
"I think Director Johnson is just nitpicking."
He glanced around before lowering his voice further.
"He doesn't even seem to know what kind of music he wants."
The man shook his head.
"And the production budget for the song is around $200,000. That's already a substantial commission, but the director expects something that could compete with songs at the very top of the Billboard charts."
He scoffed.
"That's a pipe dream. You can't expect a guaranteed hit just because you've thrown money at a project."
His complaint seemed to open the floodgates.
Several composers nearby began quietly grumbling.
"He rejected my third draft because the chorus wasn't emotional enough."
"Mine was rejected because the melody was apparently too ordinary."
"He said my lyrics were too mature for a youth romance."
"And when I made them younger, he said they sounded childish!"
The complaints became louder.
The tall, thin man with glasses shook his head.
"There's nothing we can do. We still have to finish it."
He glanced toward Victor.
"Today is the final deadline. If we can't produce something that satisfies Director Johnson, the project could be handed over to those guys at RockMedia."
The others immediately became quieter.
"Then our company loses face," the man continued. "And believe me, none of us are going to have an easy time afterward."
He sighed before suddenly remembering something.
Turning toward Henry, he asked curiously, "By the way, brother, how did you join the company? I know most of the senior composers here, but I don't think I've seen you before."
His question attracted the attention of several others.
A few people looked toward Henry.
Henry calmly replied, "I'm a newcomer. I just joined."
The tall man seemed slightly disappointed.
"A newcomer, huh?"
He nodded.
"Well, that's fine. You'll have to work hard. Consider this an opportunity to broaden your horizons."
He didn't say anything else.
The others quickly lost interest.
After all, what could a newcomer possibly do?
This was a project that had already defeated dozens of attempts from experienced composers.
Nobody expected the new guy who had just walked through the door to suddenly pull off some kind of reverse card and produce a song that could make Director Victor happy.
The conference room soon filled with the rapid clattering of keyboards.
Everyone got back to work.
Sarah brought Henry a new laptop and placed it in front of him.
"You can use this for now. I'll have IT arrange anything else you need later."
"Thank you."
Sarah nodded before checking her phone.
"I have another appointment, so I'll leave you here. If you need anything, contact me."
After giving Victor a brief nod, she left the conference room.
The door closed behind her.
Henry looked around.
Victor had returned to his seat at the front of the room.
He sat there like a guard stationed at a prison gate, arms folded across his chest, eyes constantly sweeping over the composers.
Every time someone's fingers stopped moving for too long, Victor's gaze immediately snapped toward them.
The sight was almost comical.
He looked less like the director of a songwriting department and more like a prison warden making sure none of his prisoners escaped.
Nobody dared complain.
Henry opened the laptop and stared at the blank document.
For the sake of the $200,000 project, he figured he might as well give it a try.
He thought for a moment,then his fingers moved toward the keyboard.
He clicked into the blank document and typed the title.
"just the way you are"
Henry paused for a moment, a faint smile appearing on his face.