From A Producer To A Global Superstar-Chapter 311: Outsource.

The Virex building looked normal from the outside.

Glass. Clean floors. Security at the front. Staff walking in and out like nothing was happening.

But inside the CEO’s office, nothing felt normal.

He stood near the window, jacket still on, phone in his hand. He wqs scrolling vlips and headlines to see how bad the damage was and that face again.

His assistant’s face.

He locked his jaw and forced his shoulders down. If he stayed inside, the story would grow without him. If he hid, people would treat hiding like admission.

He turned and walked toward the door.

The head of security met him in the hallway.

"Sir," the man said quickly.

The CEO didn’t slow down. "Talk."

"Reporters are outside," security said. "A lot. They’ve been waiting."

The CEO’s expression did not change, but his eyes tightened.

"How many?"

"More than twenty," security replied. "And they’re calling more. They’re waiting at the main entrance and the side gate."

The CEO adjusted his cuff like he didn’t care.

"We go through the main entrance," he said.

Security hesitated. "Sir, it will be tight."

"That’s fine," the CEO replied. "Let them see me."

He moved forward.

The elevator ride was silent. Security stayed close. Two more guards joined at the ground floor. The CEO fixed his tie once, not because it needed fixing, but because he needed his hands to do something.

Then the doors opened.

And the noise hit him immediately.

Cameras.

Microphones.

Shouts.

The moment he stepped out, they rushed him like they were starving.

"CEO!"

"Sir, is it true your assistant was part of the leak chain?"

"Did Virex fund the fake bullying clip?"

"Are you behind the smear campaign against Director Dayo?"

"Why is your assistant’s face trending?"

"Did you instruct your team to push the video again and again?"

They crowded closer. Flashing lights. Phones raised. People stepping into his path just to force an answer.

He kept walking.

Security pushed lightly, clearing space, but the crowd was stubborn.

"Sir, are you denying it?"

The CEO didn’t look at any single reporter for too long. He didn’t want one face to become the face of his humiliation.

"No comment," he said.

"Are you saying Virex has nothing to do with it?"

"No comment."

"Then why is your assistant’s face in the leak chain?"

He stopped for half a second.

Just enough for them to smell blood.

He looked at the microphones and cameras like they were objects.

"You’ll get an official statement," he said. "Not here."

"That’s not a denial!" one reporter shouted.

"Sir, did you pay someone to manipulate the clip?"

He started walking again.

"Wait for the statement," he repeated. "I’m not doing this here."

A reporter pushed forward. "Are you worried about legal action from JD Label?"

Security stepped in harder this time. They formed a wall and moved him through the gap.

The CEO’s face stayed controlled, but his breathing had shifted. Shorter. Sharper.

He reached the car.

Security opened the door. He got in immediately.

The door shut.

The outside noise went muffled, like the world was suddenly underwater.

The CEO stared straight ahead for two seconds.

Then he grabbed his phone and slammed it against his palm.

"Idiots," he muttered.

His driver didn’t speak.

Security got into the front passenger seat.

The CEO opened his messages again.

More clips. More comparisons.

The assistant’s face being zoomed in from different angles, people circling his jawline, his eyes, his posture, acting like they were investigators.

The CEO closed his eyes for a moment.

Then he opened them and made a call.

"Come to my house," he said the moment the call connected. "Now."

His assistant’s voice sounded thin. "Sir, I’m already on my way."

"You better be," the CEO replied, and ended the call.

The drive home felt longer than it should have. Not because of traffic, but because the silence inside the car was heavy.

When they arrived, the gate opened fast. Security cleared the driveway. The CEO walked inside without greeting anybody.

His wife appeared near the hallway.

She was already calm. She had seen this version of him too many times.

"You’re home," she said softly. "Do you want water?"

He didn’t answer properly. He just removed his jacket and tossed it on the chair like the chair offended him.

She waited a second. "You should eat something."

He finally looked at her.

His eyes were not gentle.

"Not now," he said.

His wife nodded once, like she expected it.

"Alright," she replied.

She didn’t try to argue nor She didn’t try to comfort him with long words.

She just turned and walked away.

Because she knew him.

When he was angry like this, anything you said became fuel.

The CEO went into his office room at home and shut the door.

He paced back and forte.

Then he stopped.

His assistant arrived ten minutes later, almost running.

He knocked, opened the door, and bowed quickly.

"Sir."

The CEO didn’t tell him to sit.

He didn’t even tell him to stand properly.

He just pointed at the screen on his tablet.

"Look," he said.

The assistant stepped closer and swallowed.

His own face stared back at him from a trending clip.

The assistant’s mouth opened slightly. "Sir... I..."

The CEO cut him off.

"You," he said. "You did this."

The assistant’s eyes widened. "Sir, I didn’t know they had proof like that. I didn’t think they could trace it back to me."

The CEO’s voice rose.

"You didn’t think," he said. "That is the problem. I told you from the start. Use backups. Use clean hands. Use people that cannot be traced."

The assistant’s voice shook. "I was careful. I met Kang Min Ho privately. I paid cash. I didn’t use company accounts."

The CEO slammed his palm on the desk.

"And yet your face is everywhere."

The assistant flinched.

The CEO leaned forward slowly.

"Do you understand what this means?" he asked.

The assistant swallowed again. "Yes, sir."

"Say it."

The assistant forced the words out. "It links us to the smear."

"Not just links," the CEO said. "It makes us the obvious suspect."

He stood up and walked around the desk like a predator circling a weak animal.

"You have one chance," the CEO said. "One."

The assistant looked confused, like he still wanted to negotiate.

The CEO continued.

"You will go out," he said. "You will claim everything."

The assistant froze. "Sir... you mean..."

"You will take it," the CEO repeated. "You will apologize. You will bow. If they want tears, you will cry. If they want disgrace, you will eat it."

The assistant’s eyes widened in panic. "Sir, that will destroy me."

The CEO’s stare turned cold.

"If I go down, you go down," he said. "But you go down worse. Because I will survive in another room. You will not survive outside."

The assistant’s lips trembled. "Sir, please. I have been with you for years. Seven years. Almost ten. Don’t throw me out like this."

The CEO didn’t blink.

"You should have remembered your value before you showed your face," he replied.

The assistant’s voice got desperate. "I can’t walk into the media and say I did all of it. They will ask who told me. They will ask why. They will ask where the money came from."

"That’s your problem," the CEO said. "You solve it."

The assistant shook his head fast. "Sir, I can’t. I can’t carry this alone."

The CEO leaned in closer.

"You can," he said. "Because if you refuse, I will make sure you never work again. I will not protect you. I will not hide you. I will not answer your calls. I will let the industry eat you alive."

Silence filled the room.

The assistant’s shoulders dropped. His pride had nowhere to stand.

The CEO stepped back and spoke like he was giving business instructions.

"You will apologize and say you acted alone out of personal resentment," he said. "Say you got greedy. Say you made a stupid choice. Say you regret it."

The assistant stared at the floor.

The CEO continued.

"My PR team will push another story at the same time," he said. "While you are taking heat, we flood the timeline."

The assistant looked up slightly. "Flood it with what?"

The CEO picked up his phone again.

"Scandals," he said.

He made a call and put it on speaker.

A voice answered almost immediately.

"Sir."

"Talk," the CEO said. "What do you have on ground?"

The voice sounded calm, like this was normal business.

"I have three packages ready," the man said. "One actor. One actress. One director."

The CEO leaned back.

"Explain."

"First," the man said, "a popular actor sleeping with a married sponsor. I have footage. Clear footage. Two angles. That package is ₩12,000,000."

The assistant’s eyes flickered hearing the scandal.

The CEO didn’t react.

"Second," the man continued, "a female idol caught using illegal prescriptions. Not hard drugs, but enough to trend. I have clinic proof and a staff member willing to talk. That one is ₩8,500,000."

"Third," the man said, "a director collecting money for roles. It’s not direct footage, but I have voice notes and a meeting photo. That is ₩15,000,000."

The CEO’s fingers tapped once on the armrest.

"How fast can you push it?" he asked.

"Tonight," the man replied. "If I get the money now."

The CEO looked at the assistant.

"This is what you caused," he said quietly.

Then he spoke to the phone again.

"I want the actor package," he said. "And the director package."

The assistant’s mouth opened slightly. That was ₩27,000,000 already.

"And I want one more," the CEO added. "Something lighter. Something that trends fast and distracts."

The man on the phone replied, "I can throw in a dating scandal, idol and businessman. It’s weak but it spreads. ₩3,500,000."

The CEO didn’t hesitate.

"Add it," he said.

He ended the call and sent a transfer through a clean route.

₩30,500,000.

He looked at the assistant again.

"By morning, the internet will have something else to chew," he said. "And you will be outside bowing and apologizing."

The assistant’s voice sounded small. "Sir... what if it doesn’t work?"

The CEO’s eyes narrowed.

"Then we buy more," he said. "Money is not the problem."

The assistant swallowed hard. "And what about Dayo? Are we sure there’s nothing on him?"

The CEO picked up his phone again and called the same outsourcer back.

"One more thing," he said. "Any dirt on Dayo?"

The man paused.

"Sir," he said carefully, "that guy is clean."

The CEO’s expression tightened.

"Clean how?"

"Clean like he was built for cameras," the man replied. "US side is clean. Sports background is clean. No charges. No scandals that can stick. Even his personal life is locked."

The assistant looked shocked, like he wanted hope and got none.

The CEO’s voice went colder.

"So you’re telling me the man has nothing?"

"Nothing that I can sell with confidence," the outsourcer replied. "If I find anything, I’ll call."

The CEO ended the call and stared at the wall for a second.

That kind of clean record irritated him more than any insult.

Because it meant this fight would not be won with simple dirt.

He looked at his assistant again.

"You hear that?" he asked. "He’s clean."

The assistant nodded slowly, fear in his eyes.

The CEO stood up.

"Then we don’t attack his past," he said. "We attack the timeline."

He moved closer to the assistant and spoke like a final warning.

"You will do what I told you," he said. "You will take the blame. You will kneel if you must. And you will not embarrass me again."

The assistant’s lips shook.

"Yes, sir," he whispered.

The CEO opened the door.

"Leave," he said.

The assistant bowed and walked out like a man going to the gallows.

The CEO stayed alone in the room.

Outside, the world was still loud.

Inside, he was calculating.

He sat down, looked at the trending pages again, and watched Virex climb for the wrong reasons.

Then he typed one message to his PR team.

"Push everything tonight. No gaps."

He sent it.

And he stared at the screen like a man who refused to lose quietly he would fight to the very end.