The Death of the Man No One Hates (2)
“Oops! Damn it! I forgot the important approval documents!”
“Dad, that’s the company calendar.”
A cold voice poured out at President Hong Jang-hoon, who was checking the papers in his hand while avoiding Hong Gye-young’s fierce glare.
“Ah, right you are. These days, my presbyopia’s getting the best of me—damn it! Time’s flown by already. I’ve got to go hear the executive briefing.”
“I thought briefings happen every morning before work starts.”
At her barbed remark, President Hong Jang-hoon threw his arms wide with a hearty laugh.
“Haha! Our Gye-young knows her old man inside out. Anyway, it’s lunchtime, so let’s all grab a bite and chat—! What? Got it. I’ll head right over.”
He suddenly clutched a phone that hadn’t rung, his urgent tone at odds with his utterly unhurried expression as he kicked open the president’s office door and stormed out.
“...Sorry for wasting your time with such a busy man. Let me apologize on my dad’s behalf, Inspector Kang Cheol-gu.”
“No need.”
Hong Gye-young shook her head in disbelief at the door, then turned to me with an exasperated look.
“Anyway, President Hong, we should probably grab lunch and make it look like a date. Dad went to all that trouble to set the stage—what’s a little play-acting?”
“You caught on...? Well, anyone but a fool would see through this setup.”
She let out a quiet sigh, her face slightly flushed as she lifted her head.
“Let’s go for now. Like Dad said, lunch first.”
“You’re not planning to drag me to some diner or street food stall, are you?”
“What kind of...?”
“You see it in movies and dramas all the time. The ordinary everyman lead buys tteokbokki for the chaebol heiress, and she goes all wide-eyed like, Oh! I’ve never had anything like this before—total cliché.”
Unlike her initial flustered reaction, Hong Gye-young now gestured playfully with her hands and body as she continued, her expression mischievous. Whether she was directing this to escape the awkwardness or simply thrilled by the unexpected detour, her shift in demeanor was remarkably swift.
* * *
“The car carrying Inspector Kang and the young lady just passed through the parking gate. She didn’t take any security with her.”
In the office on the top floor of Taehwa Electronics, Executive Director Yang Jin-ho took the intercom and reported in a low voice.
President Hong Jang-hoon said nothing, just gazed out the window at the view.
“...Inspector Kang seems to have really caught your eye. You’re even joking around, which isn’t like you.”
“Hard to read the guy.”
With a presence that belied his age, Hong Jang-hoon shot up from his chair, clucking his tongue and shaking his head.
“Sometimes he seems like some cocky kid afraid of nothing; other times, a battle-hardened commander who’s seen it all. I’ve climbed to this position by raising the promising ones and cutting out the trash after seeing countless men like him. Even I can’t pin him down. What’s your take?”
“As a fellow man, he’s plenty appealing. He knows when to go all-in, and his decisiveness and drive are flawless. But...”
“But...?”
Yang Jin-ho hesitated for a long moment before speaking.
“He’s too dangerous.”
“Exactly.”
Hong Jang-hoon nodded, grasping the unspoken nuance instantly.
“He’s not the type to spout obvious lines about upholding law and principles as a Korean cop, nor some worldly climber gunning for a cushy spot. There’s a fire burning inside him, but hell if I know who it’ll burn.”
“Yet you set this up anyway—doesn’t that mean you’ve already made up your mind? No need to ask my opinion.”
“Heh, even you see it that way?”
Hong Jang-hoon chuckled and leaned back deep into his chair.
“Normally, no way in hell. Keeping someone unreadable close is like living with a ticking time bomb. But damn if the kid doesn’t grow on you. Anyway, I’ve laid out the mat—Gye-young will handle it from here.”
“The young lady?!”
Hong Jang-hoon grinned broadly at Yang’s widened eyes.
“Our Gye-young might seem aloof from worldly affairs at first glance, all quiet and composed.”
“I know. If I may be so bold, they call her the Ice Flower in business circles.”
“Ice Flower? Tsk tsk! They’ve got her all wrong. That girl’s got her own fire inside. She knows how to strike hard at the right moment. Whose daughter is she, after all? Heh!”
I’ve watched over her since high school... and there’s a side of her I never knew?!
Ignoring Yang’s puzzled tilt of the head, President Hong Jang-hoon closed his eyes gently.
* * *
“Dad pulled that childish prank—totally unlike him—but thanks to it, this drive feels nice.”
Hong Gye-young cracked the window halfway, eyes closed against the early winter breeze that didn’t seem to bother her. Her fluttering hair filled the car with a pleasant fragrance.
“...Do you know why people fear chaebol families?”
The abrupt question felt like a signature Hong family move.
“They think it’s the massive wealth, but no. What holds up a chaebol isn’t money—it’s people. Countless connections radiate from the family core. Sure, they’re roughly equal, each able to feed the other intel, but that’s the premise. Say I married Song Kang, son of Supreme Court Justice Song Ji-cheon.”
Song Kang—the ace of the Supreme Prosecutors’ Office special division, who’d been briefly matched with Hong Gye-young two years back.
“Song Kang’s brother is a key Interior Ministry figure; over family dinner, he casually lets slip where the national budget’s flowing. My sister-in-law, married to the Economic Affairs Vice Minister, quietly notes it. Once processed, the vice minister—judging the government’s next push is alternative energy—visits my dad. The government’s gonna pump electric vehicles hard, so grab market share fast—that’s the tip, gilded as a family exclusive. Dad goes, Aigoo, what’s this now? and slips him a fat envelope. That’s just a tiny example of chaebol networks.”
With a wry, self-mocking smile, Hong Gye-young shivered—finally feeling the chill—and closed the window.
“The real power moving Korea flows from these family dinner tables, not some big-shot politician’s televised address in a suit. While my teen friends swooned over celebrities, I took this world as normal. Oh, I’m not saying chaebol life is bleak or anything naive like that. I’ve lived plenty cushy, the envy of others.”
Her vacant eyes sparkled.
“You know about the marriage talk with Song Kang? Like all the other chaebol daughters, I figured I’d end up with him. Honestly, Song Kang’s clean on the womanizing front—not a bad match. But I asked Dad anyway. Looking back, it was just whining.”
As if reliving it, she pouted and giggled like a child.
“Dad, can’t I marry for love? His reaction was way off-script! Why? Don’t like the guy? If he’s not your type, ditch it. So cool. That’s when I realized I didn’t know Dad at all. The talks ended that day.”
Giggling, she shrugged once before continuing.
“First time I thought being born a girl was a blessing. Dad’s got that subtle old-school vibe; if I were a son, he wouldn’t have let it go so easy. But a daughter? As long as you’re happy. That’s how he indulged my silly tantrum. ...Know why I’m dumping all this out of nowhere?”
“...No idea?”
“I’m saying—in a roundabout way—that I can choose the man I like on my own terms!”
Her face flushed, maybe from the Han River sunlight reflecting off the water. The bold gaze from moments ago was gone; Hong Gye-young now ducked her head, avoiding my eyes. Her eyelashes were strikingly long.
To Kang Cheol-gu in his twenties, it would’ve been a confession provocative enough to send the car veering off the road. But to me, a middle-aged man in real years, it felt like watching a shy cousin declare, I’m gonna marry big bro when I grow up.
Glancing sideways at my expression, Hong Gye-young’s voice pitched up petulantly.
“Whoa! What’s with that reaction?”
“I’m just not used to women coming at me so straight, no blinking.”
“Ugh! You sound so sleazy and so old-man right now—do you know that?! You’re two years younger than me, Inspector Kang?!”
Her pouty tone belied the triumphant upturn of her lips, like she’d just finished overdue homework.
* * *
“Alright, everyone back to work.”
Sergeant Hwang Woo-sik lumbered into the office, grunting under a mountain of file folders.
“We bust a huge case like this and no breather—just straight into statements? This is labor exploitation!”
“Maybe our team’s too good? Come on, help the sergeant with those files.”
Lee Gyu-cheol smiled, placating the grumbling Kim Gwang-il.
The Octopus Gate fallout was bigger than expected. Over ten high-ranking officials nabbed on-site—all key figures in prosecution and police. Normally, police corruption went to the audit team, prosecution to special investigations—but with the investigators themselves as suspects, our team, first on the scene, got the case.
“Wrap this up, and the captain promised generous leave and commendations. Shut it, Gwang-il, and hit the interrogation room.”
“Now that’s a different story!”
Kim Gwang-il sprang up whistling.
“I’ll take Gangnam Station Chief Yoon Hak-do’s statement.”
“Sure thing, Inspector Kang. Go easy on him.”
Already briefed, Sergeant Hwang winked with a smirk.
A single yellow sodium lamp on the ceiling was the room’s only light. Handcuffed Station Chief Yoon stared at the floor, as if unable to accept his fate.
“You’re still a suspect who hasn’t been sentenced, so I’ll use honorifics. Station Chief Yoon, do you admit receiving bribes and favors from Bang Gi-tae, under Park Seung-hyun’s orders?”
“What bullshit? That was all that bastard Jeong Gi-su—I didn’t know!”
I tossed prepared documents at Yoon, who trembled, protesting his innocence.
“Anyone watching would think you’re truly wronged. This is what that bastard Jeong Gi-su submitted, just like you said.”
As he flipped pages, his face drained of color—then he bellowed.
“...Wh-what the hell! Where’s Jeong Gi-su?”
“He confessed and resigned. Probably fishing somewhere nice by now.”
Thinking Yoon’s corruption log was a Taehwa Motors job app, Jeong’s report was spot-on, no typos.
“Not just Park Seung-hyun’s payoffs. Covering for clubs, abusing authority, fiscal embezzlement, illegal brokering, influence-peddling—you maxed out every crime your position allowed.”
“All lies! It’s just documents—easy to fake. Witnesses! Produce a witness!”
Before he finished, Bang Gi-tae—reported missing—entered in handcuffs.
Yoon’s last-ditch defiance crumbled; his jaw began to quiver.