Chapter 351
Chapter 351
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Fear
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Defense Security Commander Jeong Du-yeol only learned that the president had passed away right before entering Geumsu Mountain.
“Who the hell is the culprit, then?”
Word on the street was that Chae In-seop was the prime suspect, but the chief of staff doing something like that? No way.
Jeong Du-yeol easily guessed that the truth behind the incident was something entirely different.
More likely than not, the shadow of the real story was held by the ANSP Director, Bae Seong-jun.
“If I could just drag that bastard into an interrogation room, I’d get answers in no time.”
That’s what he thought, but he couldn’t dare lay a hand on the ANSP Director.
Bae Seong-jun outranked him in both position and seniority.
While at Geumsu Mountain, Jeong Du-yeol phoned the command headquarters and the Intelligence Command, pondering how to uncover the truth moving forward.
That’s when the Provost Marshal approached and spoke to him.
“General Jeong?”
“Yes, sir. What brings you here?”
“The Chairman wants to see you for a moment.”
“Where is the Chairman?”
“He just left for Army HQ.”
As Jeong Du-yeol stood from the switchboard room and started down the hallway, he glanced around and noticed his dedicated aide and bodyguards were nowhere in sight.
The hallway was lined only with military police.
“Where’s my aide?”
A military police officer who had accompanied the Provost Marshal answered calmly.
“We sent him ahead to Army HQ.”
Jeong Du-yeol felt something off here, but he didn’t think much of it.
In military life, this kind of handling happened from time to time.
To shake off his unease, Jeong Du-yeol deliberately puffed out his chest.
As the Provost Marshal’s group and Jeong Du-yeol exited Geumsu Mountain, the lined-up military police saluted.
But why were there so many MPs waiting like this?
Before Jeong Du-yeol could question it, the military police closed in and grabbed his arms.
The Provost Marshal issued a cold command.
“Disarm him and escort him to the Dabang-dong Counterintelligence Center.”
“What the hell are you doing? I’m the Defense Security Commander!”
The MP officers ignored him as if they hadn’t heard, stripping off his belt and confiscating his pistol.
In that moment, Jeong Du-yeol knew.
Whatever had gone down, he’d been stabbed in the back.
He had a pretty good idea who wielded the knife.
The man who ruled the Counterintelligence Center.
ANSP Director Bae Seong-jun.
Jeong Du-yeol bit his lip hard.
The car carrying Jeong Du-yeol headed straight for the Dabang-dong Counterintelligence Center.
ANSP and police executives were already waiting at the main building entrance.
As Jeong Du-yeol stepped out of the car, the ANSP Domestic Security Bureau Chief greeted him with a smile.
“I’m the ANSP Domestic Security Bureau Chief. Sorry for the rough escort, General.”
Jeong Du-yeol let out a deep sigh.
“What do you plan to do with me?”
“No special orders yet.”
If the ANSP Director hadn’t decided to dispose of him yet, there was still room for negotiation.
Jeong Du-yeol nodded and followed him into the main building.
Unlike usual, the building inside was eerily quiet.
Jeong Du-yeol navigated the winding hallways and stairs to reach the interrogation room.
Upon arrival, the ANSP Counterintelligence Investigation Section Chief tossed him a crudely dyed blue prison jumpsuit.
“Take off those clothes and put this on.”
The moment he heard that, Jeong Du-yeol realized he’d been tricked.
“I’m still an Army Lieutenant General. I can’t wear a prison jumpsuit and submit to interrogation—it’s beneath my rank.”
As a general, he couldn’t accept it even for the sake of face.
At that,
“Is that so? Hey!”
At the section chief’s shout, five or six police officers burst in.
“Detective Ahn, we’re not ready for interrogation yet.”
No sooner had he said it than the police began beating Jeong Du-yeol mercilessly with batons.
The ferocity exceeded imagination.
They focused on his arms and legs, avoiding blows that could kill.
“Stop. Stop.”
“Stop? This bastard still hasn’t learned his lesson.”
The brutal beating lasted nearly thirty minutes.
Then Jeong Du-yeol was forced to drink hot jjajangmyeon broth through his nose.
“I’ll... I’ll put it on.”
Gone were any notions of a general’s pride.
Jeong Du-yeol donned the prison jumpsuit, gave his statement as ordered, and stamped his thumbprint.
The interrogation of Jeong Du-yeol was just the beginning.
As dawn broke, Presidential Security Service Deputy Director Lee Jin-muk was also dragged to the Counterintelligence Center.
“You bastards. I’m a Republic of Korea Army Lieutenant General. You dare make me wear prisoner rags?”
“Hey, give this guy a taste of the Center’s hospitality.”
Following the ANSP script, the generals who were hauled in one by one endured all sorts of torture and beatings.
After hours of the full ANSP treatment, they stamped their thumbprints on the Domestic Security Bureau’s scripted confessions without hesitation.
“This is the general’s voluntary stamp.”
“Y-yes.”
Through this process, the ANSP produced a detailed “coup plot” scenario overnight.
Bae Seong-jun submitted it to Prime Minister Choi.
“A coup involving the Defense Security Command and the Presidential Security Service?”
“If Chief Chae had survived and gotten out of ANSP custody, the Republic would truly have fallen into their hands.”
Prime Minister Choi newly realized the gravity of the crisis.
“Director Bae.”
“Yes, Acting President.”
“Put the Defense Security Command under ANSP control.”
“Thank you.”
Bae Seong-jun was pleased that he was steadily buttoning up power.
First the ANSP, now the Defense Security Command.
With both agencies in hand, Bae Seong-jun rocketed to become one of the Republic’s top power brokers.
It wasn’t long before this was reflected in his official title.
“President passes away!”
Not long after the news flooded airwaves with President Jang Dong-yun’s death, a young man—not yet that old—appeared on TV.
It was the moment the shadowy power behind the curtain stepped into the public eye for the first time.
“I’m Bae Seong-jun, appointed as the Joint Investigation Headquarters Chief for the presidential assassination.”
In his first address to the nation, Bae Seong-jun spoke in a cold, low voice.
It was deliberate staging.
‘Young power holders always get underestimated. That’s why projecting an unapproachable image is crucial.’
He’d even layered his clothes to bulk up his frame.
Bae Seong-jun read from the script with almost no change in tone.
Once the formal reading ended and Q&A began, reporters cautiously raised their hands.
“Headquarters Chief, what was Chief Chae In-seop’s direct motive in the incident?”
“Chief Chae had been reprimanded by the President over his homosexuality issue and his position was in jeopardy. That was his primary motive.”
“There’s a gap between the date he met the Defense Security Commander and when the homosexuality rumors spread. How do you explain that?”
“The President knew about Chief Chae’s homosexuality before the rumors broke. The suspicions only surfaced afterward.”
Bae Seong-jun fielded the reporters’ questions with slick ease.
He showed no hesitation or fumbling.
How could he manage that?
Simple: It was a rigged game of go-stop.
Bae Seong-jun’s interview left a deep impression on the public.
‘Bae Seong-jun.’
People mulled over the name.
Of course, the political world didn’t take Bae Seong-jun’s rise seriously.
“So what if he’s the Joint Investigation Headquarters Chief.”
He was just some kid in his early forties.
A powerless upstart couldn’t climb to the regime’s pinnacle without authority, status, or faction.
That’s why the political snakes saw Bae Seong-jun not as a rival, but as someone to co-opt.
Bae Seong-jun played along with the “misconception,” keeping a low profile.
“Congressman, thank you for calling me.”
He always approached lawmakers humbly, wearing a mask of modesty.
People saw the mask and thought Bae Seong-jun had no immediate ambitions for the top spot.
“Even if he did, Bae Seong-jun couldn’t pull it off from his position.”
Everyone thought so.
On the day of the president’s funeral.
Bae Seong-jun walked in the rear ranks, far from the procession’s front.
This position symbolized that Bae Seong-jun could never become the top power holder.
But not everything visible was the full truth.
During the national mourning period, Bae Seong-jun was quietly preparing his next hit list from the shadows.
“Does it make sense that Chae In-seop’s accomplices are only in the military?”
There were Chae In-seop sympathizers in politics, business, and the bureaucracy too.
If not, he’d make it so.
The list he created was as good as a death warrant.
Imagine the power of the one holding and wielding it.
People still didn’t grasp what the Joint Investigation Headquarters Chief truly meant.
In fact, it was another name for Korea’s supreme power holder.
No need to reveal that yet, though.
With these calculations in mind, Bae Seong-jun quietly summoned people one by one to the Joint Investigation Headquarters.
Newspapers only reported that investigations were underway—no names, no details on methods.
“Deputy Director, this is the Director’s special order. It must not hit the press.”
“Yeah, I know.”
The newly appointed acting Defense Security Commander didn’t defy the mighty Bae Seong-jun’s directive.
The Defense Security Command continued media blackouts as ordered by its new master.
Even so, not everything stayed hidden.
Power brokers in politics and bureaucracy belatedly realized Bae Seong-jun was crafting a hit list and bending the nation to his will.
“Director Bae’s power was this immense? That kid?”
Someone screamed as they were dragged to the Counterintelligence Center and vanished.
When they emerged, they carried crimes tantamount to a death sentence.
“If we get on Bae’s bad side, we’re done for.”
The one deciding it all wasn’t the acting president or the martial law commander.
It was the fresh-faced young power holder, Bae Seong-jun.
The political old hands gazed at the newly risen authority figure in fear.