Chapter 148
Chapter 148
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 148
Chapter Title: The Hunting Ground
-----------------------------------------------------------------
To higher ground.
The third floor of a rundown commercial building in Paju City.
A poor politician's office, plastered with posters bearing trite slogans like "With the Citizens! O Sea-a!"
This was my hunting ground today.
As I stepped inside, a woman buried under a mountain of paperwork looked up.
Councilwoman O Sea-a, Paju City's councilor and a candidate staking everything on the upcoming general election.
This was our fifth meeting.
Spotting me, she jumped to her feet with a bright smile.
Her cheap two-piece suit couldn't fully hide her ambition, and her weary, lackluster skin wasn't perfectly concealed by makeup.
But even so, she was prime meat.
A shit-for-nothing politician with no real base of support.
The reason I'd chosen her out of all the politicians? Nothing special.
First, her looks.
The mature allure of a woman in her early thirties, and those voluptuous hips that her prim outfit couldn't hide.
A body more than adequate for slamming into and shaking.
Second, the burning ambition in her eyes.
That desperate thirst to succeed as a politician.
That was it.
That thirst for success.
With that alone, I could make any woman kneel at my feet.
Money, power, fame.
It was the ultimate aphrodisiac, forcing her to bite the bait I dangled.
I'd mobilized not just my own name, but those of my secretary Choi Yang, driver Lee Soo-hee, dozens of bodyguards, and even employees from 'Blue Sky Investment.'
Sticking precisely to legal individual donation limits, I'd funneled perfect money laundering through dozens of anonymous accounts.
And the young businessman orchestrating it all? She welcomed him with a smile like she'd met her savior.
Feeling my cock twitch contentedly in my pants at the sight of this older politician ripe for the taking, I put on my best innocent, upright young entrepreneur face.
"Oh, it's been a while, Councilwoman."
At my greeting, she startled and stood from her chair.
Her hands fumbled busily with a paper cup, as if to offer some cheap instant coffee.
The sight was like a clumsy kitten; I nearly burst out laughing.
"Ho ho ho, CEO Kim... I was waiting after your sudden call."
That fake laugh.
Clear anxiety about losing her funding, about this young money line drying up.
I sank into the office's lone worn leather sofa and said casually,
"Ah, nothing big... Just brought a little gift."
"A gift?"
"Yeah, the general election's not far off, right?"
Tension rippled across her face at my words.
I pulled out my phone and sent a short message to Lee Soo-hee.
<Bring it.>
Moments later, the office door opened quietly, and Lee Soo-hee entered.
In her hands was an utterly ordinary apple box, like one just grabbed from a supermarket.
She set it soundlessly on the rickety table between me and Councilwoman O Sea-a, then vanished just as quietly.
"...Is this the gift?"
Disappointment and suspicion mingled in her voice.
Of course.
After bringing up the election, all I'd offered was a box of apples.
Instead of answering, I stood, tore open the tape, and lifted the lid.
And O Sea-a's world stopped.
No apples inside. Crisp new 50,000-won bills, packed tight without a speck of dust or millimeter of error, filled the box.
Not the face value, but the sheer physical violence of its bulk.
Her smile vanished. Her pupils shook like there was an earthquake.
I could almost hear the mask of the amateur politician expecting tea with a young donor shatter to pieces.
Her lips quivered.
This wasn't a donation.
It was blatant bribery.
Savoring her crumbling expression, I leaned back deep into the sofa.
On the table, the bright yellow stack of bills exuded overwhelming presence in the silence.
That wasn't mere paper.
It was desire, temptation—a bomb that could demolish the hypocrisy she'd desperately maintained.
Her lips worked silently a few times before a mosquito-like voice crawled out.
"...CEO, this... I'll just accept the thought."
I savored that pathetic last resistance.
Our first meeting had been a staged "chance encounter" at an orphanage.
In the five meetings since, I'd played the perfect law-abiding young businessman.
She'd tried to act the upright politician while always holding back, fearing I'd cut off her funding.
Now, that hypocrites' masquerade ended with this one apple box.
I peeled away from the backrest and leaned forward over the table.
Like a predator about to sink teeth into its prey's nape.
Her shoulders flinched at my movement.
"Heh, Councilwoman. Let's drop the act and be honest with each other now, yeah?"
She caught the mockery in my voice perfectly.
But clutching the last thread of her reason, she shot back,
"......What do you mean?"
"Look, I know you're a fine, upstanding politician. But that'll keep you a shit-for-nothing councilor your whole life. You know that better than anyone."
Her shoulders twitched at the word "shit-for-nothing" from my mouth.
Her face drained white.
The painful silence of one hit right in the gut.
"…………"
"Truth is, without your news anchor fame, even the councilor badge is iffy, right?"
Anger sparked in her pupils for the first time.
But it flickered out.
Before the violence of undeniable fact, her hypocrisy and pride crumbled to ash.
Staring into those empty eyes, I kindly mapped out her future.
"If you wanna be a congresswoman, snag a cabinet post, even prime minister or president... You're gonna need a fuckton of money, you know?"
"You."
My first informal "you" made her eyebrows twitch.
Shoulders trembling with humiliation. But she couldn't yell, just squeezed out her last scrap of dignity.
"......Watch your words."
"I'll make it happen for you. Congresswoman, party bigwig. Cabinet, president—the works. I'll hook you up."
At my godlike proclamation, fear dawned in her eyes.
Instinct telling her this young businessman wasn't just some rich punk, but something vast and twisted.
"Enough joking. Please leave. What happened today... I'll pretend I didn't hear."
"Hah, you fucking moron bitch..."
Lacing my contempt, I snapped her last thread of reason.
"You grab opportunities when they come. This is the one chance you'll never get again."
"………"
"What, no credibility coming from some podunk investment firm CEO in Paju, not even Yeouido?"
Her silence was affirmation.
I called out to Choi Yang, standing like forgotten furniture in the corner.
"Told you, I brought a gift. Choi Yang, time?"
"Yes."
Perfectly timed, emotionless as a doll.
I pulled out my phone wordlessly and opened Nertube.
A live stream marked [LIVE] in red, broadcasting worldwide—a press conference.
On screen, under grandiose subtitles like "Genius Who Conquered Human Aging," Dr. Kim Seul-gi stood at a Swedish podium, giving her Nobel acceptance speech.
I set the phone down beside the apple box on the table.
Dirty money and holy glory, side by side.
[...I want to dedicate all this glory to the one who believed in my vision and supported me.]
Dr. Kim Seul-gi's voice flowed from the speaker.
[To the politician I admire most, who pondered humanity's future with me—Councilwoman O Sea-a. Moreover, Silla Biotech promises here to build a massive research complex in Paju City, her political hometown, and grow alongside the community.]
Silence.
O Sea-a's gaze darted madly between the phone and my face, like a broken machine.
The world's top genius scientist.
Nobel Prize.
Her own name.
Paju.
Massive investment.
I gave her brain a moment to process the surreal info.
Mouth agape in a daze, pupils wandering unfocused.
Her reason shattered, awe and terror for me filling the void.
Standing from the sofa, I spoke like a prophet from the future.
"First off, congrats on the election win. If you can't snag that gold badge after this gift... You're just a fucking idiot, got it?"
My voice iced over again.
I lightly gripped her chin and tilted it up.
Forced eye contact: terror-filled doe eyes stared up at me.
"Oh, and... Remember, I can take this gift back anytime..."
"……"
I nodded at the apple box on the table.
"Anyway, just here to drop the gift today, so think it over. This is pocket money. Hit me up when you've decided."
She had no retort to my arrogance calling hundreds of millions in cash "pocket money."
No, she couldn't.
Control had fully shifted to me.
"………"
Hand on the door handle, I glanced back one last time.
And issued the most vital order, in a whisper filthy and intimate.
"Oh, by the way... Next time, wear some slutty lingerie. Show up in granny panties... and I'll rip that pussy apart?"
Her face twisted as if laden with all the world's shame and disgust.
Ah, that expression. Perfect.
The moment her shame as a woman, hidden behind the politician's mask, burst forth.
I left without waiting for a reply.
In the hallway, Lee Soo-hee and Choi Yang stood like shadows.
Sensing me, two heads bowed in unison.
I shook off the dirty thrill of conquest from moments ago, switching to the next mode like a machine.
"What's next on the schedule?"
Choi Yang answered instantly, without glancing at her tablet.
She had my entire life inputted in her head.
"Today's schedule is complete. Next is... tomorrow at 10 a.m., a parent-teacher conference for the young miss."
'Young miss.'
Choi Yang's term to distinguish her from the second in Yun Chae-won's belly.
My daughter, Haneul.
As my daughter's face surfaced in my mind, fresh from crushing a woman's soul, a strange disconnect hit me.
And with it, a fierce protective instinct surged.
What if, in that little society called school, my daughter faced unfair treatment?
Ignored by some puny authority like a teacher?
Treated like trash from the dirt, poor and wretched, no parents? That was enough for me alone.
My daughter deserved only the best environment and absolute favoritism.
By money, threats, whatever it took.
"Hm... Do they still take those teacher bribes these days?"
Choi Yang clocked the chill in my voice instantly.
She picked up on my intent right away.
"Shall I look into it?"
"Yeah."
I answered curtly like a child and headed down the stairs.
Compared to the soul-price of a future congresswoman, how much for one teacher's conscience?
Gum money, maybe.
A chuckle escaped me.
Exiting the rundown building, a jet-black sedan awaited.
The door opened, and I stepped in, crossing the line from recent conquest to everyday life.
Tomorrow, maybe play the 'good dad' for once.