Chapter 335
Chapter 335
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Securing a Mouthpiece
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“Once you’ve got money, power, and an organization in your hands, the next thing you need is speakers.”
I needed mouths that would speak up on my behalf whenever I wanted.
I felt the need to bring a journalist under my control.
I wouldn’t even need to use him much.
A few times at crucial moments, raising his voice for me, would be more than enough.
Was there someone suitable for that?
I mobilized the intelligence networks of the Public Security Bureau and the Reconstruction Faction to hunt down reporters with plenty of dirt.
A sense of justice?
I didn’t even bother looking for that type from the start.
‘Righteous people with convictions are hard to handle.’
You never knew when they might act out in some unpredictable way.
Better to go with a properly corrupt, world-weary opportunist who’d be easy to manage.
After scouring the media world for a good while, I zeroed in on a reporter named Joo Dong-myung.
“The elite reporter from Daehan Ilbo, huh.”
And not just any—he was one of the most powerful in the political desk.
But his behavior was straight out of a thug’s playbook.
Blackmailing people with articles to squeeze out hush money, mooching off government offices for cushy gigs—a filthy piece of trash.
Joo Dong-myung was the perfect candidate I’d been looking for.
I had the Reconstruction Faction snatch him up.
“Why, why are you doing this? You’ve got the wrong guy.”
Dragged to a deserted mountainside, Joo Dong-myung’s face was pale with terror.
I sat down in the chair Kim Jae-gun had set out and lit a cigarette.
“You still don’t get it? This guy really lives without a brain. Kim, the boss says he still doesn’t know why.”
I signaled to Kim Jae-gun, and he along with two of his men grabbed clubs and laid into Joo Dong-myung’s body several hard times.
“Argh! Argh! Argh!”
Joo Dong-myung curled up like a shrimp in agony.
I blew out some smoke and spoke again.
“Still don’t know why?”
“I-I’m a reporter for Daehan Ilbo. Really, you’ve got the wrong person.”
“Yeah?”
I pulled a file from my pocket and read off Joo Dong-myung’s personal details.
“Name: Joo Dong-myung. Age: 37. Occupation: Political reporter, Daehan Ilbo. Spouse: Lee Seol-ah. Four kids—the oldest just started middle school.”
As I recited his info, Joo Dong-myung’s face went white as a sheet.
“Still think you grabbed the wrong guy?”
Joo Dong-myung couldn’t say a word.
I stood up and approached him.
“Reporter Joo, you know who I am, right?”
“N-No, I don’t.”
“Fine, pretending not to know isn’t a bad play.”
He must have seen me once back when I was in the Policy Promotion Office, but acting like he didn’t recognize me just because of sunglasses was ridiculous.
I squatted down and ground my cigarette butt into Joo Dong-myung’s arm.
Terrified, he didn’t even flinch despite the burning pain on his skin.
“You get that I’m not here to introduce myself. So think of another reason. Why do you suppose you ended up here?”
“I-Is it because I pissed off someone important?”
I tossed the butt aside and stood up.
“Ah, it’s hot out.”
Kim Jae-gun quickly stepped in and took my suit jacket.
“How is this idiot so clueless?”
I kicked Joo Dong-myung square in the gut.
“Urk.”
“If a punk like you had pissed me off, you’d already be fish food in the river by now.”
At the mention of fish food, Jae-gun flinched.
I turned to Joo Dong-myung.
“I’ll give you one more chance, Reporter Joo. It’d feel too heartless to end it after just one. I’ll ask again, so think hard and answer. Why the hell do you think a moron like Joo Dong-myung got nabbed?”
“B-Because you need me, sir?”
Joo Dong-myung had finally hit the mark.
“Bingo. Good answer—time for a reward. Kim, give him a sip of water.”
Kim Jae-gun cautiously brought over a bottle of mineral water and handed it to Joo Dong-myung.
Joo Dong-myung swallowed dryly, then gulped it down greedily.
“Joo Dong-myung.”
“Y-Yes, sir.”
He set down the water and answered promptly.
“We know everything—your identity, your position in society, all your weak spots. You know better than anyone what the KCIA is capable of, right?”
At the mention of the KCIA, Joo Dong-myung flinched.
I’d brought it up as a warning not to go blabbing to the cops or anyone later.
“O-Of course I do.”
“Then just do what we tell you. Nothing’ll happen if you do. Follow orders, and the pay’ll be generous too.”
“Whatever you command.”
Joo Dong-myung was completely broken by the nighttime ordeal, ready to lick my shoes if ordered.
There wasn’t a trace of elite newspaper reporter pride left in him.
“Alright, to test your loyalty, let’s run one quick check.”
“What do I need to do?”
“Transfer from the political desk to the social desk.”
“Pardon?”
Moving from political to social reporting was like getting demoted two ranks.
In newsrooms, political was tier one, economics tier two, social tier three.
It wasn’t surprising that “yes” didn’t come spilling out of Joo Dong-myung’s mouth right away.
“Can’t do it?”
But at my single word, he spat out the answer.
“I-I’ll do it.”
As his attitude showed, fear was a damn useful tool for making people compliant.
“That’s more like it. Kim!”
“Yes, Chairman.”
“Help Reporter Joo up.”
I had them lift Joo Dong-myung, soaked in sweat.
Even with support, he couldn’t hide his trembling legs.
I worried he might piss himself right there.
“Reporter Joo, you’ve got four days to make the transfer to social.”
Joo Dong-myung swallowed hard and answered in a mosquito-whisper.
“Yes.”
I waved him off to send him away.
There was a reason I’d given Joo Dong-myung plenty of time.
‘Even if they’re scared shitless at first, things change once the situation settles.’
Fear turns to shame, then to anger.
Joo Dong-myung would obviously start digging into my identity to vent that anger.
I knew the type like the back of my hand.
“Joo Dong-myung’s transferred to social.”
“He made the deadline, at least.”
Joo Dong-myung had clung to the political desk until the very last moment of my deadline, but he’d moved in the end.
I smirked, knowing he’d checked out who I was.
The reason I hadn’t flashed my identity from the start—like I did with Kim Jae-gun—was simple.
Let him stoke his own revenge fantasies and “investigate,” so he’d feel the sheer scale of my power firsthand.
That was the most effective way to break an elite.
I picked up the phone.
“Connect me to Joo Dong-myung, political desk, Daehan Ilbo.”
I held the receiver, waiting for the connection.
“Daehan Ilbo, Joo Dong-myung speaking.”
“This is Bae Sung-jun.”
His breathing turned ragged at those words.
“Had enough time to do your digging?”
His breath caught completely.
“You know who I am now, and why I need you, so introductions are out of the way. I’ll send a staffer this afternoon—come to the safehouse.”
“Yes.”
It took a while for the reply.
Late afternoon, I greeted Joo Dong-myung at the safehouse.
“Come on in, Reporter Joo. First time greeting you by your official name, right?”
Joo Dong-myung shook his head at that.
“I saw you once when you were Policy Promotion Director.”
“Oh yeah?”
Not exactly a shock.
I’d crossed paths with a lot of reporters back then.
I poured liquor into Joo Dong-myung’s glass.
“Have a good drink.”
Joo Dong-myung carefully emptied his glass.
“Let me pour you one.”
I accepted his pour with one hand.
Then refilled his glass.
“Reporter Joo.”
“Yes, Director.”
“Remember what I said back then?”
Joo Dong-myung stiffened slightly.
“What you said then?”
“I told you I needed you.”
The nuance was a bit off, but yeah, something like that.
Joo Dong-myung nodded.
“You did say that.”
“Aren’t you curious why I need you?”
“I am.”
“I need someone to write articles for me.”
Joo Dong-myung gave a look of disbelief.
“Articles? For that, the KCIA could send one official letter and have people lining up to write them.”
Yeah, exactly.
“That’s how government business goes. Wouldn’t want to leave any loose ends by sending an official notice like that.”
I was a pro at this kind of verbal sidestepping.
“Hearing you say it, Director, that makes sense.”
“I won’t ask for anything huge going forward. Just cooperate a few times when it’s state business. Do that, and I’ll turn a blind eye to your little escapades.”
This was an offer and a threat rolled into one.
Joo Dong-myung nodded.
“I’ll do that.”
I handed Reporter Joo an envelope as a consolation prize.
And just like that, things wrapped up nicely.
Once Joo Dong-myung was gone, Oh the inspector spoke up.
“If you were just going to talk him into it, why bother dragging him to the mountains and beating him? Didn’t that just plant resentment?”
“Resentment, huh? That’s how it looked to you?”
I swirled my whiskey glass with ice.
“Resentment toward us isn’t the point. What matters is making them fear us.”
Fear was the most reliable security we had—better than any 24-hour tail we couldn’t afford.
“But Joo Dong-myung’s an elite. That wounded pride will pop up eventually.”
Oh’s point was valid.
I acknowledged the risk.
“That’s why I’m limiting how often we use him.”
An unstable tool like Joo Dong-myung wasn’t meant to last anyway.
No need to regret it.
Tools can always be made anew.
There were plenty more where he came from in this world.
I crunched down on the cold ice and swallowed.