The Money Windfall – 3
"Are you familiar with the Yeongcheon County theme park project?"
When I tossed the question out as casually as I could, Na Jeong-hwan's brow knotted up at once.
"You mean the shame of Yeongcheon County?"
From the county's perspective, that was probably a fair way to describe it. After all, the county had leased out state land at a bargain price and rubber-stamped every permit imaginable.
'Getting approval for a private access road on my own land requires this much paperwork and red tape, and yet—'
Meanwhile, Yeongcheon County had bent over backward for them, all but on their knees begging for the theme park to be built. Then construction had ground to a halt, and once word spread that the whole thing was practically an investment fraud, the Yeongcheon county governor would have been in an impossible position.
His political career was likely finished on the spot.
And the governor of Pyeongcheon County, right next door, must have breathed a huge sigh of relief—thanking his lucky stars that no one had ever proposed building a theme park in his jurisdiction.
'Because if things had gone differently, he could have been caught in the same trap.'
I could tell just by how viscerally Na Jeong-hwan recoiled at the mention. He was silently vowing never to make that same mistake himself.
I spoke with deliberate calm.
"Assemblyman Joo Chang-nam and Jeong Hyeon-taek of Mirae Civil Engineering received permits from Yeongcheon County to build a theme park along the mountain stream trail, and they collected investment money for it. Are you aware of that too?"
"Of course. But why are you suddenly bringing up the Yeongcheon County theme park?"
I let my expression harden.
"SD Financial, the company that put Ugok 5-ri up for auction, was founded with the money Mirae Civil embezzled."
"...I'm sorry—what?"
His heart had clearly just dropped straight through the floor. Na Jeong-hwan faltered badly.
"My understanding was that SD Financial was established with capital from a Korean national of Japanese descent?"
"You've looked into it. That's correct—on the surface, that's exactly what it looks like."
"And the true story is that it was founded with money siphoned off by Mirae Civil? Do you have evidence?"
"Jeong Su-hwan, son of Jeong Hyeon-taek of Mirae Civil, is the CEO of Seongdo Construction. And Seongdo Construction and SD Financial are two fingers of the same hand."
I decided to throw out only that much of the truth. The investigation itself was something he could carry out on his own authority as governor.
'The father-son relationship between Jeong Hyeon-taek and Jeong Su-hwan would come out the moment someone pulled a single document at the county office.'
As for the connection between Seongdo Construction and SD Financial, tracing the flow of money would expose it in no time. Nobody had simply bothered to look before now. And Seongdo Construction had never gone out of its way to invite close scrutiny, either.
Which was presumably why they'd gotten away with it all this time.
'Until they messed with me.'
I met Na Jeong-hwan's eyes dead-on as I spoke.
"The reason I was being tailed by loan sharks recently is tied to all of this. SD Financial has been receiving infusions of capital through a private lending outfit called Boram Private Loans."
I gave a small shrug.
"I think my winning the auction for the five parcels of Ugok 5-ri ruffled their feathers."
"If what you're saying is true..."
Na Jeong-hwan loosened his tie as he spoke.
"No—it is true. You're not a man who'd say something like this to me on a hunch with no evidence whatsoever."
"Please look into this thoroughly. What happened in Yeongcheon County must never happen here in Pyeongcheon."
"Absolutely not. It must never happen."
Na Jeong-hwan's voice rang out with steely resolve.
"I did find it strange that SD Financial, after sitting on its claims against Ugok 5-ri for so long, suddenly released the land to auction."
"It's very strange, isn't it."
"There were reports that Mirae Civil clashed badly with the residents of Ugok 5-ri while pushing the expressway through by force."
Saying the matter needed investigating immediately, Na Jeong-hwan started the car. The dinner he'd proposed earlier—a light meal and a drink together—would have to wait for another day.
'The county governor tips off the police chief, the police chief tips off the National Tax Service. The arm of the law closing around Cho Eun-sun's throat, link by link.'
There's a saying in India.
Don't take revenge on your enemy. Instead, go sit by the banks of the Ganges and wait. Someday, your enemy's corpse will float downstream.
It means that even without lifting a hand yourself, every man dies eventually—and that the greatest revenge is to forget. It also means you shouldn't carry hatred around in your heart.
But I'd chosen to interpret it a little differently.
'I'm going to let Cho Eun-sun collapse into ruin without ever dirtying my own hands.'
A thick, sultry breeze drifted in from the Pyeongcheon River.
In the early hours before dawn, a milky mist rose from the surface of the Pyeongcheon River.
'It feels like stepping into a dream.'
The riverside promenade and bike path were swallowed whole by a fog so dense you couldn't see a hand's length ahead. Three figures cut through the thick haze, running. I led at the front, with Choi Ho-gyeong and Park Seok-tae trailing behind me.
"Yunho, if you run that fast you'll never finish the marathon! *huff* *huff* Pace is everything, I'm telling you!"
Choi Ho-gyeong's voice was on the verge of giving out entirely.
"I am running my pace. You're the one falling behind because you're exhausted."
"Th-that may be true, but... we're running as a team here! You're supposed to stick together!"
"Weren't you the one saying we'd win? I hear the Nonghyup is entering two teams."
Choi Ho-gyeong and Park Seok-tae had assumed that once we joined forces, a championship would come easily. Reality had other ideas. When I looked into it, last year's winning team had posted times in the upper ranks even among amateur marathon clubs.
"If your goal is just to participate, then run slow. But if you want to win, you're going to have to push a little harder."
"We're absolutely winning this thing!"
Choi Ho-gyeong shot forward like a sprinter making the final push toward the finish line.
"Aghhh, I'm dying!"
"Ho-gyeong, if you run like that you won't even make five kilometers."
"You told me to run faster!"
"To maintain your pace, you keep your movements as minimal and economical as possible—and above all, you have to watch your breathing."
I slowed down, let her come up alongside me, and demonstrated.
"In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Your turn."
"In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth."
"Keep going!"
As Choi Ho-gyeong followed the breathing pattern I'd taught her, her ragged gasping gradually steadied.
"Now watch me run and copy what you see."
I demonstrated a run with my arms tucked close to my sides, stripping away every unnecessary movement. Choi Ho-gyeong followed with her eyes, then began to imitate the form with respectable accuracy.
I held back my speed, giving her time to find a rhythm of her own. The effect showed almost immediately. She settled into a smooth, stable stride.
"Oh, that's looking good. At this rate, a championship isn't out of reach."
"Really? You mean it?"
"I shouldn't have said anything. Your breathing just broke."
"Hey! Where did you two go? Don't leave me behind!"
Through the thick fog came Park Seok-tae's breathless shout.
"Ho-gyeong, keep running. I'll go get Seok-tae."
"Okay."
Once Choi Ho-gyeong jogged off with her steady form, I doubled back the way we'd come. Park Seok-tae's legs had given out, and he was trudging at a snail's crawl—but the moment he spotted me, he looked like a man rescued from the brink.
"Yunho, how are you so good at running? I can't even keep you in sight."
Park Seok-tae stopped where he stood, clutching his side and wheezing.
'Aigoo, this kid's already tapped out?'
I stepped behind him, hooked my arms under his shoulders, and gave a light pull. His body straightened right up.
"Now—breathe deep through your nose, let your belly swell, then exhale slowly through your mouth and draw it back in."
"Hhhhooooo..."
"Good. Once more."
Just moments ago his throat had been burning and his mouth cotton-dry from gasping, but Park Seok-tae's breathing steadied in no time.
"You need to breathe from the belly like that while you run, too. The more oxygen you take in, the less your body gives out on you."
"Yes, sir, Teacher."
I burst out laughing at his antics.
"Very good, student. Now follow everything your teacher shows you. Understood?"
"Yes, Teacher!"
A little while later, I managed to shepherd Park Seok-tae all the way to the spot we'd set as today's goal. Overcome with emotion, he promptly crumpled to the ground.
"They say life is a marathon, but that's a lie. Nothing in life is this hard."
"Yesterday you said growing soybeans was the hardest thing in the world."
Choi Ho-gyeong shot him a sidelong glance, and Park Seok-tae grinned sheepishly.
"Did I say that? Yeah. Yeah, I did. Aigoo, I'm dying."
He flopped backward toward the grass, and I grabbed his arm and hauled him back upright.
"When we run, our muscle fibers take tiny tears. As the body repairs them, the muscle regenerates stronger and tougher than before."
"Ah, so that's why exercising makes eggs hatch—that saying. You grow tough from the strain."
I nodded at Choi Ho-gyeong's remark.
"Exactly. But you have to stretch to break down the lactic acid and get your blood flowing, or the recovery doesn't happen. Otherwise your muscles seize up, and the next day is even worse."
I demonstrated some stretching. Choi Ho-gyeong stood facing me and copied along earnestly. Park Seok-tae moved his limbs halfheartedly at first, but when I dropped into a lunge, he let out a howl.
"AAAAGH!"
"Seok-tae! Did eggs hatch in your mouth too?"
At Choi Ho-gyeong's jab, I cracked up. Park Seok-tae gaped at her in disbelief for a moment, then broke into a loud laugh of his own.
'Everyone's brains are flushing with adrenaline from the run—that post-run glow, all of them.'
I was feeling the same wave of exhilaration along with a deep satisfaction. This was why getting hooked on running was hopeless. Rain or shine, snow or storm—off you go.
"All right, let's call it here. Over the weekend, I want you two running this same course every single day."
"You're not running on the weekend, Yunho?"
"I probably won't be back until early next week. I have to go up to Seoul."
I had Seo Jinwoo's preview screening of Segok-ri Reservoir to attend, and the sale of the gold we'd unearthed in Hwacheon to sort out. That wasn't the kind of decision I could make over a phone call with Moon Sung-il.
"Even in Seoul, I'll run along the Han River at the same time every day. Different scenery, same workout—it's basically like we're training together."
"That works, I suppose. Got it."
"See you next week, then."
I waved and set off running toward Ugok 1-ri.
"Uh—Yunho? You're leaving your car behind?"
"I didn't bring one?"
"What! So you ran to our village, and then you've run this whole distance back again just now? You monster!"
"Haha. That was a compliment, right?"
Park Seok-tae's jaw hung nearly to the ground as he spoke.
"Stamina that never runs out... he's got it all."
"Seriously, is there anything Yunho can't do? The only thing that comes out of my mouth is 'amazing.'"
The two of them stared after me, utterly dumbstruck. I waved, a little embarrassed by the attention.
"Off I go!"
I was glad I'd signed up for the marathon. Running through the crisp morning air was simply too refreshing to pass up.
"Chai, you can manage the move on your own over the weekend, right?"
Chai had decided to move into the vacant house closest to mine. It was a two-room place with a living room, kitchen, bathroom, and its own front yard. Since I'd registered it as a rental property, Chai would be living there as a paying tenant.
The rent was 100,000 won a month; the county government covered the other 200,000 as a housing subsidy paid directly to the landlord—that was, to me.
'Not that I have any intention of taking rent money from Chai.'
My plan was to save every won he handed over, and one day hand it back to him as a lump sum for when he returned home to Thailand.
"Chai has no luggage, so Chai can do it alone! Chai is so happy! Chai has his very own house now!"
Living at the Ugok 2-ri village chief's place, he'd apparently shared a shipping container with a whole crowd of other workers.
"Good. And listen—if you need anything, don't go into town by yourself."
"Ah, dalsegi! Understood!"
If he crossed paths with Son Gu-chul of the marsh snail hangover soup place in town, the man was bound to try something nasty against Chai. I warned him firmly: while I was away, he was not to leave the village unless it was absolutely necessary.
'Sooner or later, I'm going to have to teach Son Gu-chul a proper lesson.'
A short while later, Bang Jeong-soo and Han Mija, Bang Seong-eun, Grandma Mak-sun, and even the Village Head and his wife all piled out for Seoul, bound for the movie preview.
"Wow! It's Seoul!"
Bang Seong-eun pressed herself flat against the window, her eyes rolling with delight as she drank in the skyscrapers stabbing up at the sky.