The Hit Song of This Life Is Revenge - Chapter 74

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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My hit song in this life is revenge.
Chapter 74
At that same moment.
A torrent of chat messages poured into Baek Song-ha’s field of vision.
Like a meteor shower—no time to dodge.
└Holy shock. Did Lee Jae-i just say it’s bullshit?
└She must’ve thought the camera was off….
└Seriously ruins it. You can totally feel her looking down on the fans.
As Baek Song-ha stared at the darkened screen where Lee Jae-i’s face had vanished, the night sky she’d gazed up at yesterday suddenly came to mind.
Empty and starless.
So that’s why it had to be so dark for something to shine here.
“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha—. Ha-ha—.”
An honest laugh broke free.
So ugly she startled even herself.
Her heart hammered hard, and warm blood rushed through her veins, carrying satisfaction in its wake.
How long had it been since she felt this?
Baek Song-ha trembled at the pleasure rippling outward like a shock wave.
“I would’ve regretted it if I hadn’t watched.”
What would she have done if she’d ignored Yoo Young-jae’s words?
The thought alone made her dizzy.
She had to witness this fantastic scene firsthand.
In the meantime, the fan meeting venue had gone completely silent, as though the connection had been severed entirely.
Even the chat window sank into darkness, and no more messages bubbled up.
Baek Song-ha pictured what lay beyond the screen.
What expression would Lee Jae-i be wearing right now?
‘Like she’d had a bucket of filth dumped over her head.’
If only she could have seen that moment with her own eyes—how perfect that would have been.
The regret that had weighed on her last night instantly transformed into smugness.
‘YU is the right choice for an entertainment company.’
Baek Song-ha confirmed once more that her choice had been correct.
After all, good taste is ultimately proven by results.
Her lifted smile gradually fell back to neutral.
“But what on earth did he pull off?”
It couldn’t be coincidence.
The strange certainty she’d sensed in Yoo Young-jae last night must have foreshadowed this.
A trap drawn tight in a game he’d designed.
There had never been any chance Lee Jae-i had said those words on her own.
“Did he hack her or something?”
Her thoughts didn’t extend beyond that.
Whatever it was.
Lee Jae-i was definitely going to face humiliation for this.
That’s when it happened.
[Yoo Young-jae]
His name lit up the screen brightly, welcoming.
Baek Song-ha maintained her smile and brought the cell phone to her ear.
“Yes, Director Yoo.”
Her own ears caught the dulcet tone of her voice.
A timbre she’d never used in front of Yoo Young-jae before.
Not intentional—it had simply flowed out naturally.
– Ha.
A short laugh leaked through the receiver.
– Why does “Director” sound so awkward coming from you? What’s the concept today?
Maybe it was just her imagination.
His voice, which always sounded sarcastic, seemed strangely ordinary today.
“One should admire a genuinely impressive scene, objectively speaking.”
She meant it sincerely.
The words that had clawed at her chest last night had been washed away so completely, she couldn’t even remember them now.
Through the receiver, she heard a soft, rounded breath.
– We need to do a Comeback within two weeks. I was hoping you could help with the Final Work right now.
“Of course. Should I head straight to the Recording Room?”
– That would be perfect.
Words that should have been exchanged naturally.
A conversation finding its rightful place at last.
The moment she pressed the call-end button, a low hum slipped from her lips.
“Hmm—. Um-hmm—.”
Baek Song-ha rose from her seat.
With everything that had been knotted inside her finally drained away, her body felt light.
* * *
Park Jeong-cheol set down his mug and gripped the mouse.
Acrid cinnamon tea.
It was rare to find such a potent stimulant against the dull drowsiness creeping in after meals.
As he dragged the mouse across the pad, the monitor woke from its sleep mode.
Light flashed, and the first page to appear was entertainment news.
Park Jeong-cheol habitually pressed the F5 key.
Then he lifted his mug again.
Slurp—.
Hot steam pricked the bridge of his nose.
In that instant as sharp breath escaped, his gaze snagged on the refreshed screen.
“Hmm?”
Something was off.
There were far too many updated articles.
More precisely, they were all plastered with a single name.
Park Jeong-cheol pushed his teacup aside and pulled his chair closer, sitting up straight.

No matter where he placed his cursor, similar headlines followed.
An arrangement with nowhere to escape.
He clicked on one of them.
With each scroll, sentences jumped out at him.
Line by line, his facial muscles gradually stiffened.
“Mm…….”
Park Jeong-cheol exhaled deeply, then clicked the video clip attached at the bottom of the article.
The next moment, a rough word poured out through the speaker unfiltered.
– Ugh…… this sucks.
A short, unmistakable curse.
Park Jeong-cheol’s eyebrows twitched slightly.
‘Is she that kind of person?’
The profanity wasn’t the issue.
What person went through life without uttering that much?
Yet the woman he’d perceived was not like this.
Bold as she might be, boldness wasn’t the same as recklessness.
“Did I misjudge her?”
The low murmur dissipated helplessly into the air.
Which made it all the more confusing.
The gap between the imprinted image and the scene playing before his eyes was simply too vast.
When he’d first discovered Yoo Young-jae’s Embezzlement suspicion, he wasn’t even shocked.
There was something bittersweet about it before any shock.
The fact that his expectations hadn’t missed the mark, combined with having to acknowledge his own negligence.
“Mm….”
Park Jeong-cheol rolled a sigh out through closed lips.
Yoo Young-jae’s face naturally surfaced in his mind.
Among the amounts billed as outsourcing fees, only one vendor had large receipts attached.
So sloppy it didn’t even have a portfolio list on its homepage of prior work.
If only there had been some sign of deliberate effort to conceal things—perhaps he’d have felt less worse about it.
Park Jeong-cheol’s eyes turned toward a drawer.
Where the External Hard Drive was kept.
He didn’t want to back up security files separately, but the word “what if” wouldn’t easily erase itself from his mind.
‘If the Chairman knew about this, he’d give different orders.’
That single expectation moved him.
The day Yoo Young-jae had stepped out of the ninth floor.
Park Jeong-cheol had traced his footsteps backward in the late night.
The CEO’s Office, cold and dark.
The only thing holding warmth in that space was the Chairman’s computer.
Park Jeong-cheol turned the power button on right away.
He searched thoroughly but found nothing unusual.
‘What am I doing right now.’
When he leaned back listlessly against the large chair, his gaze suddenly stopped at one spot.
A wire-mesh trash can.
‘Why is it full?’
A single crumpled Post-it Note stuck out conspicuously from inside the bin.
His hand reached toward it as if entranced.
The creases ran this way and that, as though it had been crumpled carelessly.
When he unfolded the Post-it, hastily scrawled handwriting appeared.
[
Du Dot Korea, Hyun Gang-jin.
Phil’s Net, Kim Young-jun.]
Names written like graffiti.
All of them unfamiliar.
Could these companies be the channels through which embezzled funds were being funneled?
With that thought, Park Jeong-cheol immediately pulled up a search engine.
The homepage link had turned purple, indicating there was access history.
But the moment the homepage opened, his expression stiffened subtly.
[Commercial · IVR · Narration Production.
-Archive Audio Organization and Restoration Work.]
A direction that seemed to connect mainly with advertising companies.
It had little to do with sound production.
Though if he stretched it, there were times when a sound engineer’s help was needed.
But was it really such a straightforward reason?
Park Jeong-cheol slowly closed his eyes, mulling over that day’s memory.
‘But why did he specifically look it up from the CEO’s Office?’
The logic twisted oddly.
If anything was work-related, it would’ve been easiest to do from his own desk.
Yet he chose the more cumbersome route.
If that were the case, the most natural explanation would be because it was an empty office.
‘Then why.’
But an immediate question mark followed.
Park Jeong-cheol typed the search query from that day into the search bar again.
Thinking he should explore the site a bit more today, he clicked on the detailed page.
And he began reading through the introduction carefully.
‘……Hmm?’

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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