The Giant's Empty Seat

The 7th Republic had begun, yet the lives of ordinary citizens remained largely unchanged. Many still suffered under the lingering effects of the IMF crisis, and Korea's economy teetered on the edge. Corporate conditions had not improved, leaving employment figures at rock bottom. As a result, the final days of 1999 were expected to carry an even stronger sense of millennial anxiety.

Meanwhile, others moved with urgency. The most visible among them were the investigators of the Gongsucheo. Though the office of its director remained vacant, probes into police and prosecutors involved in the Hotel Night drug scandal proceeded swiftly. In the midst of this, a bombshell exploded at the Gangnam Police Station.

Prosecutors and investigators from the Gongsucheo worked through sleepless nights, determined to demonstrate the very purpose of their organization to the public through this case. Their efforts bore fruit one after another. From the station chief down to patrol officers at local outposts, evidence of collusion with entertainment establishments led to suspensions and arrest warrants. Every warrant was approved, sending them behind bars. In the 21st century, securing arrest warrants had become far more difficult, but in this era, a simple mention of risk of evidence tampering was enough. Public outrage over the scandal made the atmosphere even more unforgiving. Warrants issued by the Gongsucheo were approved without exception, and the Gangnam station's leadership and rank-and-file alike found themselves behind bars.

The crackdown did not stop with the police. Prosecutors with ties to the nightclub were also under investigation. In the past, when prosecutors investigated their own, cases often ended in leniency to protect the organization. But the Gongsucheo assigned these cases to judges or former lawyers who had never served as prosecutors. This eliminated any suspicion of favoritism from the outset, and the investigations proceeded with strict impartiality. Corrupt prosecutors were indicted as evidence mounted and could not escape handcuffs.

As expected, the Daehan Ilbo owners and the VIP drug users from the nightclub also faced the same fate. Despite connections reaching from the grandson of the Daehan Ilbo chairman to popular celebrities, children of National Assembly members, and even a vice minister, there was no mercy. A special tax audit of the Daehan Ilbo was also underway, uncovering various instances of tax evasion and foreign exchange violations. During the IMF crisis, when citizens had donated gold to help the nation, the Daehan Ilbo had siphoned dollars abroad to purchase overseas real estate. The National Tax Service compiled the evidence and filed charges against the chairman's family, imposing punitive fines of unprecedented scale.

Thus, the scandals that had shaken society in 1998 were finally being brought to justice. Yet the truly significant developments lay elsewhere. After completing the monumental task of constitutional revision, the National Assembly appeared quiet for the time being. The winter session's primary duty was reviewing the new year's budget, but this year it passed smoothly due to its linkage with the constitutional amendments.

Just as water flows beneath frozen ground, the political scene in Yeouido remained active beneath its frozen surface. The most pressing matter was preparing for the succession after Jeon Myeong-heon. At the proclamation ceremony for the 7th Republic on December 18, Jeon Myeong-heon had risen from his wheelchair to shout "manse" with all his strength. The exertion had taken a severe toll, and his condition deteriorated rapidly with each passing day. Naturally, the ambitions of those dreaming of the presidency began to stir. Even Jeon Myeong-heon himself was thinking ahead.

One such measure was filling the long-vacant position of Gongsucheo director. The man he chose as the first director was Kim Chang-wan, the lawyer from Kim & Jung Law Firm. It was a truly unconventional selection. Like a candle burning brightest just before it extinguishes, Jeon Myeong-heon was meticulously preparing for what would come after him.

Though Jeon Myeong-heon had summoned the strength to perform the three cheers at the proclamation ceremony, the damage was immense. His physical functions declined rapidly, and he frequently slipped into unconsciousness. Each time, the medical staff panicked, and his family rushed to Mirae Asan Hospital only to disperse again. Yoo Jae-won could remain by his side in the VIP room, but Jeon Myeong-heon's relatives, each managing their own Mirae Group subsidiaries, found it difficult to stay long. ID Group's operations were fully digitized, allowing Yoo Jae-won to handle everything via ID Talk or a laptop from anywhere. Mirae Group, despite being Korea's second-largest conglomerate, still relied on traditional management systems.

Then came a day when Jeon Myeong-heon's consciousness returned and he could move his hands. His speech was clear as well. He received reports on the current situation from his chief of staff and heard updates from Yoo Jae-won. Sensing something himself, he began by appointing the still-vacant Gongsucheo director.

"What? Lawyer Kim Chang-wan?"

Yoo Jae-won was the first to hear of the decision, as expected. Among the various social contribution organizations operated by the ID Foundation, Kim & Jung Law Firm was the most prominent in Korea. Ordinary people who never expected to see the inside of a courtroom might not know of it, but the foreign exchange crisis had thrown even average citizens into chaos. Pyramid scheme operators absconding with funds were common, as were fraudsters who vanished after swindling entire villages with promises of high returns. Victims of scams or unpaid debts all turned to Kim & Jung Law Firm.

In the past, legal help had been difficult to obtain even in such cases. While legal aid centers existed, they did not accompany clients to court. The public defender system was in place, but not all public defenders treated cases with full dedication. Kim & Jung Law Firm was different. Its hundreds of lawyers were proven professionals. For serious or large-scale cases, even more specialized attorneys were assigned, and even retired high-ranking officials were brought in. Though the practice of preferential treatment for former officials was problematic and ideally should be eliminated, Yoo Jae-won believed that if it could not be eradicated, there was no reason not to use it. As a result, cases taken by Kim & ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Jung Law Firm saw dramatically higher success rates. Its reputation was soaring, and so was the name of its chairman, Lawyer Kim Chang-wan.

"There will be considerable backlash," Yoo Jae-won expressed his concern.

"Haa… Do it. Just do it."

Jeon Myeong-heon was resolute. Given Kim & Jung Law Firm's high profile, everyone knew of its close ties to ID Group. No one was unaware that high-ranking officials from courts and prosecutors' offices entered the firm without hesitation thanks to Yoo Jae-won's influence. Some even joked that instead of the Ilsung Republic, a Yoo Jae-won Empire was being built. Naturally, such remarks came mostly from other chaebols. Previously, they had maintained influence over the judiciary and prosecution through sponsorships and backdoor connections. Scandals would cause temporary noise but ultimately fade into lenient judgments. Now those escape routes were nearly all blocked. Even Chairman Choi Hyun-hee of Ilsung Group had been forced to stand in the photo line and suffer public humiliation—an unthinkable outcome in the past. Soon he would face formal charges for slush fund creation, environmental violations, and labor law breaches, with an arrest warrant likely to follow. Among the chaebols, it was widely said that Chairman Choi's disgrace stemmed from crossing Yoo Jae-won.

In this climate, appointing Lawyer Kim Chang-wan as Gongsucheo director would only strengthen the Yoo Jae-won Empire. The Gongsucheo's primary function was to check the judiciary and prosecution.

"Do you think… Lawyer Kim Chang-wan… will be rejected… in the confirmation hearing?"

"No."

Yoo Jae-won answered firmly. He received regular reports on Lawyer Kim Chang-wan's activities through his intelligence team—not background checks, but evaluations of his work performance and everyday conduct. Even so, Kim Chang-wan's character was clear. He had been ousted from the judiciary for resisting organizational injustice, and he never looked down on those in need of legal aid. He had never engaged in the fake address transfers common among high officials, and all his assets were legally acquired. He had not participated in the apartment speculation that was slowly gaining traction. As a result, he had not accumulated significant wealth while on the bench; his assets only grew substantially after joining Kim & Jung Law Firm.

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠appointment of the Gongsucheo director required a confirmation hearing and a National Assembly vote, unlike ministerial appointments. Even a minor flaw in a candidate's record could spark massive controversy. But Yoo Jae-won was confident that even opposition lawmakers grinding their teeth would not dare attack Lawyer Kim Chang-wan.

"Then it's settled."

Hearing Yoo Jae-won's answer, Jeon Myeong-heon signed the nomination documents for the Gongsucheo director candidate brought by his chief of staff.

The news of President Jeon Myeong-heon's nomination immediately sparked controversy. The opposition fiercely resisted, claiming judicial power was being handed to an individual—specifically, the businessman Yoo Jae-won. Though the phrase "Yoo Jae-won Empire" did not appear in print, opposition lawmakers were not exercising restraint. Remarks about Yoo Jae-won's growing influence and Jeon Myeong-heon's clouded judgment were rampant, but no broadcaster or newspaper carried them as reported. The most aggressive outlet, Daehan Ilbo, was keeping a low profile ahead of the conclusion of its special tax audit. Other papers were mindful of ID Group's presence. Moreover, even larger news soon broke, completely burying the lawmakers' complaints.

Prime Minister Kim Dae-jung, who also served as acting president, had stepped down from his powerful post. It appeared to be a protest against the unilateral nomination of Lawyer Kim Chang-wan. After all, former Prime Minister Kim Dae-jung was not merely acting president but the leader of the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Democratic Party, maintaining the coalition with the ruling Tongil National Party. His resignation meant the end of that coalition.

Some began questioning President Jeon Myeong-heon's mental state, suggesting his cerebral hemorrhage had impaired his judgment. A few nodded in agreement. Attention naturally turned to who would be the next prime minister. If Jeon Myeong-heon did not recover, the acting president system would continue. If the Democratic Party nominated the next prime minister, the coalition would persist, rendering Kim Dae-jung's resignation meaningless.

Fortunately, those curious about politics did not have to wait long. The very next day, the identity of the next prime minister was revealed.

It was Lee In-je, representative of the Tongil National Party. Formerly the governor of Gyeonggi Province, Lee In-je had gained significant recognition by leading the party in the previous presidential election. In the original timeline, he would have run himself and played a major role in the regime change. Now his fate had diverged. Once a political wanderer constantly switching parties, he was now successfully leading the Tongil National Party. Yet his ambition remained boundless. He repeatedly declared his intention to run in the next presidential election, and the Tongil National Party was the perfect vehicle for that ambition. When the party was founded, it had no base. It had been built by recruiting celebrities and local influential figures. This trend continued, and few members possessed deep political insight. Thus, a named politician like Lee In-je could fully exert his presence within the party.

Lee In-je's nomination as prime minister confirmed the end of the coalition. People were desperate to know the reason behind this choice, but with Jeon Myeong-heon bedridden, they could not ask him directly. Rumors proliferated—that the constitutional revision had created a deep rift with the Democratic Party, or that former Prime Minister Kim Dae-jung's pride had been wounded by the lack of consultation on the Gongsucheo director appointment.

Even these rumors were soon overshadowed when the picture Jeon Myeong-heon had drawn became clear.

On the night of December 31, 1998, urgent breaking news flashed across screens. Two days later, on January 2, 1999, the news of Jeon Myeong-heon's passing spread. His state funeral was scheduled to last seven days. Condolences poured in from across Korea and every nation his influence had reached, with mourning delegations arriving from multiple countries—including North Korea, which sent a delegation led by Kim Yong-nam, the second-in-command after Kim Jong-il.

The entire nation was engulfed in mourning. Among all, the one who felt the greatest sorrow and sense of loss was Yoo Jae-won. He had been at Jeon Myeong-heon's side until the final moment but had not heard his last words. When Lee In-je was nominated as prime minister, Jeon Myeong-heon had still seemed vigorous. Then, within days, his condition deteriorated rapidly. He entered a coma, requiring a ventilator as even spontaneous breathing became impossible. He never recovered and passed away peacefully.

Only after he was gone did Yoo Jae-won feel profound regret. He should have expressed his gratitude when Jeon Myeong-heon was conscious. He had tried to speak, but his grandfather had spent his precious remaining time preparing for the political situation after his death—appointing Kim Chang-wan as Gongsucheo director and arranging the prime minister succession. Though that was what Jeon Myeong-heon had wanted, Yoo Jae-won now regretted it.

After Jeon Myeong-heon's passing, Yoo Jae-won returned to his residence on the top floor of the ID Global Headquarters building, but the emptiness only grew. Looking out at Seoul's nightscape, he vividly recalled standing beside his grandfather at the building's opening ceremony. The already spacious house felt even more desolate, so he packed his bags and returned to his parents' home in Deokjin-ri. Though his uncle's continuous SimCity-like development had changed Deokjin-ri from the village of his memories, the warm mountains and the village atmosphere remained the same. The previous night, heavy snow had fallen, blanketing the entire neighborhood and the mountains in white, finally bringing a measure of peace to his heart.

"Mr. Chairman!"

When afternoon came, Kim Dae-seok called for Yoo Jae-won.

"Chief Secretary Kim has arrived."

Yoo Jae-won knew several chief secretaries, but the one referred to simply as Chief Secretary Kim could only be Kim Kwang-il, Jeon Myeong-heon's right-hand man. Stepping into the living room, he found Kim Kwang-il standing there in a black suit.

"These are the items the elder instructed me to deliver to you in the event of his passing."

Kim Kwang-il held out a small box wrapped in cloth. Declining the refreshments prepared by Yoo Jae-won's parents, he departed immediately, citing his duties as a funeral committee member. While Kim Dae-seok and his parents saw Kim Kwang-il off, Yoo Jae-won took the cloth-wrapped box to his room and locked the door. Carefully unwrapping it, he felt tears well up. Inside were a small wooden box and an envelope addressed "To my grandson, Jae-won."

The envelope contained only a few lines from his grandfather.

With each word he read, Yoo Jae-won's nose stung. Moreover, Jeon Myeong-heon seemed to have some inkling of the master plan Yoo Jae-won carried. Experience truly could not be underestimated. After composing himself for a long while, Yoo Jae-won carefully resealed the letter. Then he opened the wooden box with care.

Inside were three items. The first to catch his eye was a well-worn notebook. Next was a business card with the strange name "Bok Piggy Bank Safe"—only the character for "fortune" was in Chinese characters, the rest in Korean. The words "daily interest" and "emergency loan" were printed prominently, making it seem entirely out of place with Jeon Myeong-heon. The final item was a wooden seal whose very shabbiness made it seem special. These three oddly mismatched objects lay together in the box.