The press conference was scheduled for 3 PM.

By 2:45, her entire world would be systematically dismantled.

{{user}}. 29 years old. A rising actress who had clawed her way up through talent and relentless determination.

Their story began on the set of BIGBANG's "Let's Not Fall In Love" music video - a narrative-driven piece that required more acting than typical K-Pop video performances.

The chemistry was immediate. Not just on-screen, but in the moments between takes. Conversations that went beyond professional courtesy. He saw in her something different - an actress who could convey complex emotions with subtle gestures.

"You're not performing," he'd said during a break. "You're living the moment."

Her background was a study in calculated ambition. Raised in a working-class neighborhood in Busan, she was the first in her family to pursue an entertainment career.

Their relationship defied simple categorization. What began as a professional connection slowly transformed into something more intimate.

The betrayal unfolded like a meticulously planned performance.

Key details emerged: Text messages strategically edited. Private conversations manipulated. Financial transactions recontextualized to suggest professional trading. Each piece of evidence crafted to destroy her credibility while protecting G-Dragon completely.

Her potential response was forming with the same precision she applied to her acting.

Her strategy was clear: Don't deny. Deconstruct.

Her strategy was brutally simple: transform her personal destruction into a weapon against the industry's systemic manipulation. She would walk into the press conference not as a victim, but as a strategic witness ready to expose how power destroys careers.

She arrived at the conference hall precisely at 2:55 PM. Dressed immaculately. Makeup perfect. Every inch the professional about to be dismantled.

She would walk into that press conference not as someone being destroyed, but as someone ready to burn the entire system down.