The headquarters of ADOR, usually bustling with the energy of creativity and ambition, felt different now. There was a tension in the air, a sense that something was about to give. The walls, once adorned with posters of their artists and the dreams they represented, seemed to close in, suffocating in their silence. Min Hee-jin walked through the halls, feeling the eyes on her, the whispers that followed her every step. She could feel the weight of their doubts, their fears, pressing down on her like a physical thing.
She had chosen to face HYBE head-on, to tell the truth, but the truth had a way of tearing through facades, exposing wounds that had festered in the dark. Her decision to go public with the shaman’s influence, to admit that she had sought comfort in the belief that her sister was guiding her, was met with a mixed reaction. Some saw it as a courageous act, a woman owning her vulnerabilities in a world that demanded perfection. Others saw it as a desperate move, a last-ditch attempt to reclaim the narrative that had spiraled out of her control.
The media had pounced on her confession. Headlines screamed of “Supernatural Scandals” and “Corporate Sorcery,” each article more sensational than the last. The public was divided, some expressing sympathy, others mocking her for what they saw as delusion. And through it all, HYBE had remained silent, watching, waiting for her to make a mistake.
Min entered the conference room, the place where so many battles had been fought. Her team was already there, the tension palpable. Her lawyers, her closest allies, and the members of NewJeans sat around the table, their faces drawn and tired. They had all been through so much, and she hated herself for dragging them into this mess.
“We’re ready,” her lead attorney said, breaking the silence. He was a sharp-eyed man with a reputation for being relentless in the courtroom. He had been her rock through this storm, guiding her through the legal labyrinth that HYBE had thrown at them. “We’ll hold the press conference tomorrow. We’ve got the documents, the transcripts. We’ll lay everything out.”
Min nodded, her throat tight with a mix of fear and resolve. They were about to reveal everything, to tear down the walls that HYBE had built around them. But with that came a risk, a vulnerability that she wasn’t sure they could afford.
“What about the shareholders’ meeting?” one of her advisors asked. “HYBE is still planning to push for a vote. They want to remove you permanently, not just from the CEO position but from the board entirely.”
“We’ve filed another injunction,” the lawyer replied. “But it’s a gamble. If the court rules against us, they’ll have the votes they need to kick Min out for good.”
Min took a deep breath, feeling the weight of their words. Everything hinged on the next few days. If they lost the injunction, it would be over. HYBE would control ADOR completely, and she would be left with nothing.
“I’ve been thinking,” Min said, her voice breaking the silence that had settled over the room. “Maybe it’s time we consider a different strategy.”
They all looked at her, confusion and concern etched on their faces.
“What do you mean?” Minji asked, her voice small in the heavy air.
Min hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “I’ve been fighting this battle on their terms. I’ve been trying to prove that I’m still in control, that I still have power. But what if… what if we let them have it?”
There were gasps around the table, protests rising like a wave.
“Min, you can’t be serious,” her lawyer said, his voice sharp with disbelief. “You’re talking about giving up. About walking away.”
“No,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “I’m not giving up. I’m just… I’m trying to think about what’s best for ADOR. For NewJeans. If I keep fighting, they’ll keep coming. They’ll keep attacking. But if I step back, if I let them think they’ve won…”
“Min, no,” Hanni whispered, her eyes filling with tears. “You can’t leave us.”
Min’s heart broke at the sight of her, of all of them. These girls, who had given so much, who had stood by her when no one else would. She wanted to protect them, to shield them from the worst of this nightmare. But she knew, deep down, that she couldn’t keep them safe as long as she was in the crosshairs.
“I’m not leaving you,” she said softly, reaching out to take Hanni’s hand. “I’m not abandoning you. But maybe… maybe it’s time to think about what’s best for all of us. If I step down, if I walk away, HYBE won’t have any more reason to come after us.”
“But you built this,” Danielle said, her voice choked with emotion. “This is yours. You can’t just let them take it.”
Min swallowed hard, her eyes burning. “I didn’t build this alone,” she said, her voice trembling. “We built this. All of us. And it’s not about me. It’s about ADOR. It’s about you. I can’t keep fighting them if it means destroying everything we’ve worked for.”
The room fell silent, the weight of her words settling over them like a shroud. They all knew what it meant, what she was saying. She was willing to sacrifice everything, her position, her pride, to protect them.
“We can find another way,” her lawyer said, his voice tight with frustration. “We can fight this. You don’t have to do this.”
But Min shook her head, a sad smile on her lips. “It’s not about winning or losing anymore. It’s about surviving. It’s about making sure that ADOR, that NewJeans, can keep going, even if I’m not there.”
Tears slipped down her cheeks, and she didn’t bother to wipe them away. This was the hardest decision she had ever made, but it was the right one. She had to believe that.
“I’ll go public with it,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll tell them I’m stepping down, that I’m leaving ADOR. Maybe then, they’ll leave you alone.”
The room erupted in protests, but Min held up a hand, silencing them.
“I know it’s not what you want to hear,” she said, her voice breaking. “But it’s what has to be done.”
The silence that followed was deafening, a testament to the gravity of her decision. She had fought so hard, given so much, but now it was time to let go.
Tomorrow, she would face the cameras one last time. She would tell them the truth, all of it, and then she would walk away.
It was the only way to save what was left.
And maybe, just maybe, it would be enough.
