From A Producer To A Global Superstar-Chapter 273: A Suprise Before Departure

A week passed.

The storm did not disappear, but as always, something new emerged. Still, it remained on people’s lips. After all, the person behind it didn’t want it to be easily forgotten.

At first, the backlash had been loud and aggressive people rushing to comment, to condemn, to feel involved. Over the days, that intensity dulled. The outrage no longer burned as fiercely, but it refused to vanish. Dayo’s name still trended occasionally. His social media accounts were still filled with accusations, sarcasm, disappointment, and the occasional insult disguised as concern.

Some people demanded statements.

Others demanded apologies.

A smaller group demanded consequences and tagged the head of media in Korea to do something about it. What made the majority angrier was that Dayo was an outsider, so they couldn’t accept an outsider bullying one of their own.

Yet despite the effort, the narrative was losing momentum. The more it was pushed, the less effective it became. People had moved on to newer scandals, more interesting controversies.

But—

Still, the stain remained. It lingered in conversations, in comment sections, in the way people referenced his name.

In the United States, the reaction was different.

There was skepticism.

A lot of it.

Many people who had followed Dayo’s career for years found the story hard to believe. They remembered the charity events, the anonymous donations, the testimonies from people he had helped without cameras involved.

"This doesn’t make sense," some said.

"If this were real, we would’ve heard something like this years ago."

Others weren’t so forgiving.

They were almost pleased.

"Power changes people," they argued.

"No one is that clean."

"Maybe this is who he really is."

The division was there, but it lacked conviction. The outrage felt forced, recycled, borrowed from elsewhere. And slowly, quietly, the world began to lose interest.

Life, however, did not pause.

Dayo’s family couldn’t stay in Korea forever.

The realization hit him harder than he expected it was time to say goodbye.

He hadn’t said much about it, but their presence had grounded him. Having them around made the noise outside feel distant, manageable. Their laughter, their arguments, the shared meals it reminded him that there was a world beyond work. There was love, family, and bonds to go back to.

The morning of their departure arrived sooner than he wanted.

They drove to the airport together.

The atmosphere in the car was strange not sad, not cheerful, just heavy with things left unsaid.

After all, they knew that Dayo would take some time before he came back. This reminded them that Dayo was the glue that stuck them together.

Everyone understood that this goodbye mattered more than usual.

Deborah and Janet were the loudest, as always.

"You’re always saying you’ll come back soon," Janet complained, arms crossed.

"And then you don’t," Deborah added quickly. "You said that last time."

Dayo smiled, glancing at them through the rearview mirror.

"I still have work to finish here," he said calmly. "But I will come back. I promise."

"That’s what you always say," Deborah muttered.

Dayo sighed, then softened his tone. "Alright. How about this—when I come back, we’ll go watch a movie together. Any movie you want."

Their eyes lit up immediately. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

"Really?" Janet asked.

"Yes," Dayo replied. "And not just that. I’ll invest in movies. And music too."

Their reaction was instant chaos.

"Oh my God!"

"Brother!"

"You’re serious?"

They rushed him, hugging him tightly, almost knocking the air out of his lungs.

"Alright, alright," he laughed. "You two are spoiled."

"If you don’t spoil us, who will?" Deborah shot back proudly.

Their parents shook their heads from a distance.

"You spoil these girls too much," their mother said.

Dayo shrugged. "Someone has to."

At the terminal, the goodbyes stretched longer than planned. Hugs turned into repeated hugs.

He couldn’t count how many times he had said goodbye, only to talk and hug again, like neither wanted to let go.

Last-minute advice was given by his parents mostly his mom, who was always worried. As for his dad, he simply said, "Just do you."

"So," Dayo said, lowering his voice. "What’s your plan now?"

His brother hesitated. "I’m done with high school. I’ve been thinking about what comes next."

"University?"

"Yes. But also..." He paused. "Sports."

Dayo raised an eyebrow. "Sports?"

"Swimming."

Dayo blinked. "Swimming?"

"What?" his brother asked defensively. "Don’t look at me like that."

Dayo chuckled. "You’re really going to compete with me now?"

"Compete?" his brother scoffed. "You weren’t even into swimming like that. I was the one who introduced you when we were younger, and don’t forget I was the one who saved you during Who Wants to Be a Millionaire when they asked you a question about swimming."

As he scanned his memory, it was true. His brother had introduced him to swimming when he was younger and had saved him during that question.

"That’s fair," Dayo admitted. "So how serious are you?"

"Pretty serious," his brother replied. "I’ve been training quietly for a while."

That caught Dayo’s attention.

Without saying much, he activated the system.

Talent Vision.

The result stunned him.

Swimming Talent: B-

Swimming Potential: SS+

Dayo stared at the numbers.

SS+.

That wasn’t normal. Having SS+ potential was elite-level—the kind of talent that could reach international competition, even the Olympics, with the right guidance, and dominate for decades.

He looked at his brother again, this time with a different expression.

"...You have no idea how far you can go," Dayo said quietly.

His brother frowned. "What do you mean?"

Dayo shook his head. "Never mind."

"I’ll give you my coach’s number," Dayo said immediately. "I’ll call him myself. You’ll link up, get tested properly, and see how far this can go."

His brother’s eyes widened. "You’re serious?"

He knew Dayo’s coach was the head coach for the U.S. swimming team, so having access to him was huge.

"Completely."

Their father stepped in then, placing a hand on Dayo’s shoulder.

"Take care of yourself," he said. "You’re in Korea, and things aren’t exactly calm."

Dayo nodded. "I have everything under control."

His father studied him for a moment, then nodded back. "If you say so."

The boarding call echoed through the terminal.

Final hugs followed.

"Call us," their mother said.

"Don’t disappear," Deborah warned.

"Behave yourself," Janet added seriously.

"Take care, bro."

Dayo smiled. "All of you too."

As they walked away, he stood there until they disappeared from sight.

Only then did the airport feel quiet.

Later that evening, back home, the house felt emptier than before.

That night, alone in his apartment, Dayo sat quietly.

The noise online still existed. The accusations still floated around. The people behind it all were still pushing, still confident.

But Dayo wasn’t rushing.

He had time.

And more importantly—

He had already seen the ending.

Now it was time to finish what he started.