Chapter 339
Chapter 339
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Preparations (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
1978 was the time to sketch out the blueprint for the coup.
“Oh Team Leader, how are the preparations coming along?”
“We’re proceeding with utmost caution to avoid making any noise.”
While Oh Team Leader hustled away in his own way, I took the next step to push the plan forward.
“Might as well stir up even more chaos inside the KCIA while we’re at it.”
I devised some mischief to fan the flames of disorder within the KCIA.
“This time, that’ll do nicely.”
KCIA X-File.
A fabrication modeled after the original Samsung X-File.
Through this KCIA X-File, I planned to expose the regime’s immoral collusion with the chaebols to the world.
Evidence?
Evidence can be fabricated.
Just whip up some plausible documents in official KCIA format.
“Who’s going to believe that crap?”
The public will.
Would people believe the immoral chaebols and the KCIA?
Or the whistleblower files disseminated by a righteous informant?
Simple choice.
“I’m hitting them head-on with agitation and outright lies—who the hell are they to fight back?”
Using intelligence I’d gathered from the KCIA as a foundation, I crafted a convincing novel.
I handed this finished novel to the Reconstructionists and instructed them to plaster it all over the streets.
Kim Jae-geon hesitated briefly upon seeing the words “KCIA Document.”
I lit a cigarette while staring into Jae-geon’s eyes.
Puff.
Grayish-white smoke drifted across Jae-geon’s face.
“Kim Jae-geon. You’re probably overthinking things right now, but don’t. It’s national business—just follow orders. Handle it well, and there’ll be a reward.”
At my cold tone, Kim Jae-geon swallowed hard.
“Yes, sir.”
“By the way, didn’t a few of your crew get hauled into the police station last time?”
I’d remembered it all along but had deliberately held off on intervening.
“Ah, yes.”
“You’ve got to ask me to sort out stuff like that if you want me to handle it. Hold on.”
I picked up the phone and dialed the police station.
“This is Bae Seong-jun, Director of KCIA Second Bureau.”
I layered on the arrogance in my voice.
The police chief on the other end immediately went submissive.
“Oh, a KCIA director? Yes, sir. What can I do for you?”
“You’ve got Han Seok-ryul and Lee Ja-seong locked up there, right?”
“W-well, I’m not sure about the names.”
I’d expected as much.
“Doesn’t matter if you know their names or not, Chief—just release those two guys I mentioned by the end of the day.”
The police chief didn’t even try to negotiate.
“Yes, sir. Consider it done.”
I hung up and turned to Kim Jae-geon.
“Looks like it’s taken care of.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Kim Jae-geon bent at a perfect ninety degrees.
Power humbles a man.
And robs him of the courage to defy it.
With that single phone call performance, I made it crystal clear to Kim Jae-geon that obeying my orders was in his best interest.
He got the message loud and clear.
Kim Jae-geon carried out my instructions without delay.
It wasn’t long before the wall posters made a brief appearance on the newspapers’ social pages.
“The Defense Security Command fat cats are bursting at the seams.”
They couldn’t even censor that.
I let out a hearty guffaw.
Truth be told, it wouldn’t have mattered if they hadn’t hit the social pages.
The KCIA X-File was already spreading like wildfire, a viral buzzword on everyone’s lips.
Word had it the KCIA goons took bribes from this chaebol or that to run wiretaps—rumors flowed from mouth to mouth.
Those whispers soon ignited the regime’s fury.
Why was President Yongseong so enraged?
Not because the KCIA had done immoral deeds.
He suspected they’d pocketed extra kickbacks without clearance from the regime.
That suspicion swiftly morphed into savage retribution.
“The Civil Affairs Chief’s office has been ordered to audit our agency.”
“His Excellency must be livid over this.”
The KCIA’s routine meeting felt like a wake.
Having to bow their heads in shame—not to anyone else, but to the Civil Affairs Chief under the Presidential Secretariat—was punishment enough.
‘At this point, the KCIA Director’s got no choice but to fall on his sword.’
It was inevitable.
In a bureaucracy where everything hinged on face, a deputy prime minister couldn’t submit to an audit from a vice-ministerial peon.
A few days later, KCIA Director Kim Jeong-nam tendered his resignation to the Presidential Secretariat.
“I take full responsibility for this fiasco and step down from my post.”
But the resignations didn’t end there.
The Second Deputy Director, who oversaw counterintelligence and bore blame for the KCIA X-File, submitted his own.
Pride wouldn’t let a vice-ministerial official face an audit from the Civil Affairs Chief.
‘Jang Dong-yoon’s got a sly way of taking heads.’
Striking at their pride to force them out.
Not a bad tactic.
But did it stop with those who resigned?
Far from it.
The Security Deputy Director and Operations Deputy Director tied to the X-File followed suit, resigning one after another.
Their vice-ministerial exits stemmed from the same rationale.
“No self-respecting KCIA brass can stomach an audit from the likes of the Civil Affairs Chief.”
Their logic wasn’t off-base.
“Ah, lose face like that, and you’ll never snag another gig anywhere.”
In bureaucratic circles, a man who lost face could never return to public service.
Subordinates wouldn’t follow him anymore.
The top brass resigned en masse just like that.
The KCIA’s atmosphere turned to utter chaos, naturally.
In any case, the KCIA X-File stirred up far more fallout than I’d anticipated.
“Appoint KCIA First Deputy Director Kim Dae-gyu as KCIA Director.”
To overhaul the agency’s shattered morale, the Jang Dong-yoon regime promoted First Deputy Director Kim Dae-gyu to Director.
Newly minted KCIA Director Kim Dae-gyu wasted no time preparing personnel shifts to refresh the internal vibe.
I rubbed my hands together, quick to capitalize on the momentum.
“Not exactly what I planned, but a shot at promotion’s opened up—I’m not sitting this out.”
My tenure lagged behind other directors, but I had the Dae-gyu pipeline as my ace in the hole.
We were thick as thieves, propping each other up.
Dae-gyu hyped my track record as Second Bureau Director and forwarded it straight to President Yongseong’s office.
Worth every penny I’d lavished on him.
Of course, I didn’t leave it all to Dae-gyu.
I hauled ass and got moving myself.
‘Can’t let the small fry snatch the feast I prepared.’
Via the Presidential Secretariat’s Personnel Chief’s office, I sent up courtesy memos and made sure to keep popping up on their radar.
I didn’t forget to pack the trunk with bags brimming with goodwill.
Generously stuffed 200,000 won apiece.
Oh Team Leader about had a heart attack over it, but money’s meant to be thrown around boldly when it counts.
I wined and dined the Personnel Chief at a top-shelf pleasure house first.
“I’ve tangled with Director Kwon at the KCIA, but I’m still Seong-jun stock. Don’t us Seong-jun alumni need to lift each other up, Senior?”
“Ha, that guy. Listen, Director Bae—I’d love to put you on this promotion list. But how’s a guy who hit Grade 1 less than a year ago gonna jump again?”
Just bend the rules a little.
Chun Doo-hwan leaped two ranks in a year, mustered out, and became president—why not me?
The words nearly spilled out, but I bit them back.
Truth was, Chun had promoted himself, a one-off case.
“Senior, hear me out then.”
If a full promotion was off the table, at least tack on an “acting” title.
I swore allegiance to the Personnel Chief over and over, vowing to be the Secretariat’s loyal pipeline inside the KCIA.
Along the way, I slipped him some intel I’d collected on the Secretariat itself.
Information is power.
No way the Personnel Chief undervalued dirt on the Secretariat.
Only then did the stonewalling Chief’s demeanor thaw a touch.
“Hmm. Director Bae, here’s the deal.”
He promised to polish my file nice and pretty for Jang Dong-yoon.
If the President bit, he’d chime in too.
Shaky, but I had nowhere else to turn.
“I’m counting on you, Senior.”
Two weeks later, the personnel decree came down from Yongseong.
“Appoint Grade 1 Senior Official and Director Bae Seong-jun as Acting Deputy Director of the Intelligence Bureau.”
It actually worked.
I grinned, my calculations spot-on.
Truth was, my bold play couldn’t have missed.
My sabotage and schemes had stripped out most of the KCIA’s old guard and Seong-jun loyalists.
Survivors? Barely half a dozen, led by vice-ministerial Planning and Coordination Director Kwon Young-hoon.
Of them, I’d met the President more than anyone.
Put yourself in Jang Dong-yoon’s shoes—who gets the nod?
Option one: familiar face Bae Seong-jun, with ‘results’ and rock-solid reliability.
Option whatever: faceless nobodies with zilch to show.
Number one, obviously.
Sure, Kwon Young-hoon was in a league of his own, but that guy would never vacate his Planning and Coordination throne to begin with.
Why ditch a powerhouse seat that could square off with the First Deputy Director himself?
Naturally, the Intelligence Deputy Director slot was mine for the taking.
I didn’t snag a full vice-ministerial promotion, of course.
But “acting” was semantics.
Deputy director’s a deputy director.
I sat in the Intelligence Deputy Director’s office, toying with the nameplate.
‘Now all the KCIA’s intelligence is in my grasp.’
In other words, Geumsu Mountain’s eyes and ears were as good as mine.
Wield that fearsome intel network right, and purging rivals to claim the Director’s chair was only a matter of time.
Three years at the outside.
I’d wrap all preparations by then.
So go ahead—bask in that throne while your grace period lasts.
I flashed a smile back at Jang Dong-yoon grinning from the portrait.