Chapter 326
Chapter 326
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Seongjun Alumni (1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The Ministry of National Defense spokesperson, Bae Seong-jun, held a position equivalent to a Grade 3 civil servant in the Korean bureaucracy.
Grade 3 civil servant.
How much time would it take to climb from this level to the position of Deputy Director Kim Jae-gyu in the intelligence agency?
It went without saying that it couldn't be done in just a year or two.
There was an enormous gulf between a Grade 3 civil servant and the vice prime minister-level head of the intelligence agency.
Still, a Grade 3 was part of the Republic's senior civil service elite.
It came with an official car and a secretary, even if there was no dedicated driver.
Arriving at the ministry, he saw the spokesperson's office, sparsely furnished.
In one corner was a small private workspace set aside for him.
"Director, would you like some coffee?"
"No, thanks."
Whether Bae Seong-jun enjoyed coffee was irrelevant; he didn't.
After getting older, even a hint of caffeine kept him up at night with insomnia.
Things might be different now in this younger body, but habits died hard.
He sat at the spokesperson's desk and picked up the phone first.
"This is Ministry of National Defense spokesperson Bae Seong-jun. Please connect me to Personnel Director Park Seung-ho."
While the switchboard operator transferred the call, he recalled keywords about Park Seung-ho.
In Bae Seong-jun's memories, Park was an authoritarian bureaucrat with a boomer mentality.
He was calling anyway because they were alumni from Seongjun Middle and High School and shared the same hometown.
In fact, Bae Seong-jun sent holiday greetings and gifts to Park every year.
"This is Director Park Seung-ho."
"It's me, Director. Bae Seong-jun from the Ministry of National Defense."
He adopted the mask of a humble junior in addressing Park Seung-ho.
"Ah, right. Bae Seong-jun. How've you been?"
"Yes, sir. Thanks to your guidance."
"What's up?"
Park Seung-ho shot back in a tone that sounded annoyed right off the bat.
"If you're free, sir, I was hoping to treat you to a meal."
"Is that so? You know I have expensive tastes, right?"
No matter how refined your palate, could it compare to that of a former head of state like Lee Seong-jun?
He kept the thought to himself and responded humbly.
"Of course, sir."
"I like how straightforward you are when it counts, Bae. Today won't work, but how about tomorrow? Lunch?"
"That sounds perfect for me, sir."
"Alright, see you then."
He hung up and dialed again.
Relying on just one person wouldn't get him where he wanted to go.
The presidential chief of staff's office had a personnel secretary.
That was another connection he could lean on.
He stayed on the phone, lining up meetings with people in the Blue House and key spots elsewhere.
That wrapped up the groundwork for his requests. Time to handle some spokesperson duties while he was at it.
"Secretary Jeong!"
"Yes, Director."
His secretary hurried in at the call.
"What's my morning schedule today?"
"You need to head to the briefing room in 30 minutes."
"The script?"
"You said yesterday to leave it on your desk."
Right, that was it.
He skimmed the materials roughly.
Nothing major.
Just expressing the ministry's regrets over a rifle misfire accident in the military.
These kinds of incidents were routine in the army.
Down in the briefing room, the public affairs officer and policy promotion officer waited for him.
"You're here, Director."
"The list of attending reporters?"
The public affairs officer handed him the documents.
He scanned for any problematic media outlets.
"Hanbada Newspaper. These guys might get rowdy—move their seats as far back as possible."
"Yes, sir. Consider it done."
While his subordinates worked, he reviewed the script meticulously.
Being young again sharpened the mind for sure.
It all stuck after one read-through.
He was armed and ready.
Checking his watch after finishing prep: briefing started at 11:30 a.m., so ten minutes left.
Then the briefing room doors opened, and reporters filed in.
All in crisp suits, straight out of their newsrooms.
As defense beat reporters, none looked slovenly.
He waited for them to sit, then began reading the script.
He kept his tone mechanical.
Spokespeople weren't supposed to inject emotion into their delivery.
"The rifle misfire incident over the weekend..."
As he read, the reporters scribbled furiously on their notepads.
The vibe was your standard briefing.
He finished the script and opened the floor to questions.
"I'll take exactly three questions."
Of course, he knew who would ask.
He was about to call on the Daehan Ilbo reporter first.
That's when the Hanbada Newspaper reporter shot up and shouted.
"You called it a misfire accident, but can the investigation really wrap up in three days?"
The reporter had a point—proper probes into military incidents took weeks.
But listen here, pal.
In the Republic of Korea, if the Ministry of National Defense says it's a misfire, it is.
In the Yushin era, did a single soldier's death count as big news?
They buried civilian deaths without a second thought.
"Daehan Ilbo's Reporter Shin. You're up."
He pointed calmly, as if he hadn't heard a thing.
"Spokesperson! Are you dodging my question?"
"Reporter Shin?"
"Yes."
Even amid the shouting from the side, he took the question coolly.
"Spokesperson! Answer me! Are you ignoring the people's right to know?"
"Escort that reporter out!"
Only then did the public affairs officer and staff grab the Hanbada reporter and drag him out.
Of course he was ignoring it.
Did they think this was some free country's press conference?
This was a scripted event with preordained answers.
The Q&A wrapped up smoothly, minor commotion aside.
Or so he thought.
That evening, Hanbada ran a story with his photo, brazenly headlining the Defense Ministry's attempt to cover up the incident.
"Director, we need to respond to this coverage immediately."
Obviously.
Why?
If an elite bureaucrat let himself get stepped on by newspaper hacks, what would his alumni think?
That Bae Seong-jun was dragging the Seongjun Middle and High School name through the mud?
He didn't care about school pride, but when you needed connections, you had to mind your image.
"Public affairs, lodge a protest with the newspaper. Secretary Jeong, check with the legal affairs officer if we can pursue legal action."
"Yes, sir."
Annoying as it was, it wasn't enough to ruin his mood.
He directed his team and flipped open another paper.
The next day, over lunch with Park Seung-ho, the Hanbada story came up.
"You've become a star, Director Bae."
"Pardon?"
"Hanbada Newspaper. They got a great shot of you."
Oh, them.
"I've already ordered measures against those clowns."
"Really?"
Park Seung-ho poked at his sashimi, looking intrigued.
"A Seongjun alum showing weakness to newspaper riffraff? Not on my watch."
It was cringy, but flaunting school pride worked on types like him.
"Exactly. That's the Seongjun spirit. Hit the pen-pushers hard."
"Right on, sir."
He swiftly refilled Park's glass the moment it emptied.
"Ah, enough. One drink with lunch is plenty."
"Right you are."
Of course, he'd filled it knowing full well.
Park hated underlings presuming his intentions—that boomer streak.
Park ate a couple more pieces of sashimi, then set down his chopsticks.
"Alright, belly's full. Let's talk business."
"Yes, sir."
Park pulled out a cigarette and lit up.
Smoking mid-meal.
Not the healthiest habit, but a good sign.
Park only smoked during meals when he was in high spirits.
He took a few drags.
As the room hazed with smoke, he got to the point.
"So, Director Bae, what's this meeting really about?"
No beating around the bush—he went straight to it.
That matched Park's personality.
"Truth is, sir, I wanted to ask a favor about the upcoming personnel shuffle."
Park didn't bat an eye.
He'd known.
This was a backroom deal lunch.
Still, he hadn't refused because Bae was a direct junior plus hometown boy.
"Personnel? Yeah, shuffle season's here. Got a spot in mind, Bae?"
Most bureaucrats lusted after the flashy finance track.
"Intelligence."
Park looked mildly surprised.
"Intelligence? You've got no experience there. It's locked down by prosecutors and military brass from public security."
"Yes, I'm aware."
"It's cutthroat, and once in, there's nothing to do."
"If you back me, sir, I'll make it count."
Park pondered long, then spoke.
"If you're set on intelligence, one piece of advice."
"I'm all ears."
"Intelligence doesn't care about Seongjun or whatever. Everyone's the enemy."
A cold, ruthless world where self-interest trumped background.
Which made it all the sweeter.
"Of course, I'm prepared."
The less you could tell friend from foe, the better for politicking.
Eyes gleaming, he anticipated his move to intelligence.