Park Taeseok existed in the realm of the perfectly, unremarkably average. His life, a meticulously drawn straight line, had never veered into the thrilling peaks or terrifying valleys. Average grades, an average college, an average job that paid just enough to keep his average life comfortably afloat. It was safe. It was predictable. It was, for Taeseok, precisely what he wanted.
Then, the economy decided to play a cruel game of musical chairs, and Taeseok found himself, quite suddenly, without a seat. Four months of unemployment later, the comfortable hum of his average existence had been replaced by the deafening roar of anxiety. Credit card debt piled up like an ill-fated Jenga tower, and the fear of being permanently "discarded" by the professional world became a constant, unwelcome companion. Each new loan taken out was a quiet admission of defeat, a tiny scratch on the veneer of his unremarkable life.
So, when Zenith Corp. threw him a lifeline—a junior staff position in their PR department—Taeseok didn't just grab it; he clung to it with the desperate tenacity of a drowning man. Climbing the corporate ladder wasn't on his radar; merely existing on the lowest rung was the goal. He just needed to stay employed, steadily, invisibly, long enough to claw his way out of debt. He'd become an expert at blending in, at mastering the art of the apologetic nod and the artfully vague email. He was finally starting to feel a fragile sense of security, a tentative belief that he might just survive this corporate jungle.
That fragile peace shattered the day Director Park, a man whose presence alone could curdle milk, summoned him.
The Director, eyes gleaming with a terrifying, almost manic glee, dropped a folder onto Taeseok's desk. It wasn't just a new assignment; it was a hot potato that had been burning holes through every senior manager's hands for months. Director Park, in his infinite wisdom (and Taeseok suspected, a healthy dose of schadenfreude), had decided Taeseok's "desperate hunger" made him the perfect candidate to finally tackle it.
The task? "Get legendary athlete Kim Junghyun as brand ambassador for Zenith's newly launched sports line."
Taeseok's blood ran cold. Kim Junghyun. The undisputed "Iron Fist of Korea," a boxing titan who had literally punched his way to international fame, Korea's most celebrated athlete. And, more terrifyingly, the very same boy Taeseok had spent his secret teenage years with.
This wasn't a task. This was a corporate suicide mission, carefully disguised as an opportunity. Taeseok's average life was about to collide head-on with an extraordinary past, and he had a terrifying feeling only one of them would emerge intact.