After the lawyer’s firm intervention on the matter of mental health, a brief silence settled over the office.
Director Yoon, showing the composure of an executive with years of experience behind him, let the tension pass with grace and nodded:
"We’ll add that clause. Regular therapy sessions will be guaranteed by the company. As for strictly defining ’rest days’ — that’s difficult to pin down with exact dates at this stage. It will depend on the schedule and workload as we approach the pre-debut period. We’ll manage it as we go. That’s as far as we can go on that point."
Lawyer Park nodded in silence. He knew better than to push further — in general terms, the financial and contractual conditions were extraordinarily favorable for the young man.
"That seems fair," the lawyer said, sliding the document and a pen toward Sol-woo. "Sol-woo-ssi, you can sign here."
Sol-woo took the pen and placed his signature — firm, careful, deliberate — on each of the copies. Watching the ink settle on the paper, Director Yoon couldn’t contain a genuine flash of emotion. Kang Tae-shik and Shinsadong Tiger, beside him, shared exactly the same quiet satisfaction.
To be honest, when the three of them had decided to join forces and build MNO Entertainment from the ground up, claiming they had blind faith in the future would have been a lie. There were doubts, risks, an uphill road — but nothing to lose. Then, from the moment PD-nim Yoon had stumbled upon Sol-woo in the early hours of the morning on that digital platform, the project had taken a completely different direction. The director didn’t hesitate to call that discovery a genuine stroke of fate.
Sol-woo let out a quiet breath after signing. Looking at the radiant faces of the three men across from him, a warm sense of relief moved through his chest.
The director rose to his feet and spoke with a full, vibrant voice:
"Welcome to MNO Entertainment, Sol-woo! Rest assured — we won’t disappoint you. I hope we build something prosperous together and that we both benefit from this the way we should!"
Sol-woo stood immediately and responded with a precise ninety-degree bow directed at all three:
"From today, I place myself under your guidance and teaching, PD-nim, Mr. Manager, and—" he paused briefly when he turned to Shinsadong Tiger, measuring his words with a respectful, slightly uncertain beat — "Producer-nim."
Shinsadong Tiger, seeing the young man’s courteous but entirely genuine manner, let out a sincere smile. He liked that authenticity — there was no need to hide small hesitations in protocol when the intention was completely sincere. If anything, guiding someone from scratch was part of the satisfaction of producing pure talent.
Tae-shik, as always, observed the scene with his manager’s clinical eye and commented quietly to the director:
"We need to assign this kid a protocol and etiquette instructor as soon as possible. He needs to polish his formal industry manners, or netizens will start firing at him over the smallest thing."
Lawyer Park, sensing that the atmosphere in the room had settled into something genuinely professional and healthy, packed his documents into his briefcase and spoke in a measured tone:
"I’ll need a complete copy of the signed document. Since his father is in the United States, as his legal guardian he should also be made aware of the terms of this contract."
Director Yoon nodded without objection:
"Completely understood — no issue whatsoever."
Privately, the director couldn’t help briefly wondering about the family dynamic. Sol-woo was nineteen by Korean age — already considered an adult abroad — so it caught his curiosity that a distant father would need to be involved in the paperwork. Still, he knew with Sol-woo it was better to take things slowly and not press him with out-of-place personal questions.
Glancing at his watch, Director Yoon continued:
"I’ll need to process the registration with the Korea Music Copyright Association — KOMCA. Sol-woo-ssi, since that song was created by you independently before joining us, the agency will not touch your rights or claim any part of its authorship. That said, we ask that you be very careful not to respond to any messages or offers from other companies, to avoid rumors in the industry. As for your social media and digital presence, we’ll soon be bringing in someone specialized to handle that. For now, please don’t create any official accounts under your name. Does that work for you?"
Sol-woo nodded with composure:
"Everything will be done as you direct, PD-nim."
The director nodded, satisfied. It was the best way to protect both parties in the period leading up to the official announcement.
Shortly after, everyone filed out of the office toward the reception area. Eun-ji, reading the smiles on the executives’ faces and the calm in her son’s posture, knew immediately that the negotiation had been a complete success. She was ready to fire a thousand questions at her lawyer friend — but Park Seung-won, after a polite bow goodbye, slipped away in a hurry, citing an urgent matter elsewhere.
Eun-ji sighed with resignation, accepting she’d have to interrogate Sol-woo on the way home. Beside her, Uncle Min-ho was so overcome with excitement that he nearly launched himself at Sol-woo for a crushing bear hug like when he was a child — but catching himself, remembering where they were and spotting the manager’s imposing frame, he held back just in time.
Kang Tae-shik stepped toward the mother and uncle, taking the initiative in his role as protector:
"Mrs. Kang, for the time being Sol-woo will be able to continue his daily life normally. However, from the moment he is officially announced as a trainee and the agency’s first artist, we ask that you maintain absolute discretion. As his family, you’ll also need to be mindful of your public appearances and comments."
Eun-ji immediately grasped the seriousness of the manager’s words. She hadn’t expected the man who looked like a bodyguard to step so directly into the management of her son’s life — but that protective attitude gave her a deep sense of reassurance about Sol-woo’s wellbeing.
"Of course — we understand completely," Eun-ji answered firmly. "If it becomes necessary in the future for us to move neighborhoods to avoid press or fan attention, we’ll do it without hesitation. Whatever is best for Sol-woo."
Tae-shik was visibly surprised by the mother’s immediate resolve.
"It won’t need to go that far for now," the manager clarified with a calm gesture. "In fact, the agency will be providing Sol-woo with his own accommodation close to these facilities. He’ll need to stay near us to follow through with the industry’s intensive training program — though of course, he’ll be able to visit you regularly depending on his schedule."
While Tae-shik continued laying out the long list of security measures, schedules, and agency protocols for the mother and uncle, Shinsadong Tiger watched from a few meters away and let out a quiet, sympathetic sigh. He knew Tae-shik well — once that man started reciting his protection and logistics regulations, there was no stopping him. Poor mother. Poor uncle.
Noticing that Sol-woo had drifted slightly to the side, somewhat glazed over from listening to his new manager’s endless stream of rules, Shinsadong Tiger stepped over and pulled him out of his daze with a warm tone:
"Congratulations on taking this step, Sol-woo-ssi."
Hearing the veteran producer’s voice, Sol-woo snapped back immediately. Fully aware of who he was standing in front of, he straightened up with complete respect and answered:
"Thank you, Producer-nim. I’ll give everything I have to be worthy of your confidence and work hard in the studio."