Chapter 394
Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Side Support
The industrial chains spanning the entire Third World, built with Korea at the apex, were firmly gripped by Korean conglomerates.
With countless examples of a single Korean company accounting for 30% of a nation's revenue, the influence of these conglomerates in the Second and Third Worlds was absolute.
This led to nicknames like "Holy Star Republic" or "Modern Republic," drawing parallels to "banana republics."
But even the power of these multinational giants paled in comparison to the dominance of this one company.
'Taeu.'
This company, which controlled Korea's agricultural and livestock products with an iron fist, wielded such overwhelming might over impoverished nations that calling it "colonial rule" was no exaggeration.
"25% of Madagascar's land, 35% of Ceylon's territory."
To bolster its agricultural dominance, Taeu snapped up vast tracts of land in developing countries.
Of course, not all these deals were aboveboard.
Doling out massive bribes to buy land on the cheap was Taeu's specialty.
Its strategy was a blatant copy of America's banana companies.
"Taeu is the most evil empire in the world."
Indigenous people fought back with every trick in the book to protect their lands from this powerhouse multinational.
But against a Taeu that had bought off local governments and hired private mercenaries, holding onto their homes was next to impossible.
If residents dug in their heels during development, Taeu didn't hesitate to torch the jungles and spray Agent Orange.
"Get out or die."
The number of natives who perished in Taeu's "development wars" was beyond counting.
Through it all, Taeu earned the moniker of the world's top black company, but they couldn't care less.
"When the West builds colonies, it's romance; when we do it, it's adultery?"
Taeu Chairman Kim Oh-jong scoffed at an exposé documentary on TV.
No matter how loudly the powerless natives screamed, it posed no threat.
After all, did a cart ever stop because a mantis spread its wings in defiance?
When Taeu advanced, the bugs were simply crushed.
Kim Oh-jong switched off the TV and unfolded his newspaper.
Taeu's overwhelming power extended to the media as well.
No matter the uproar abroad, if it didn't make a single line in the domestic press, there was no problem.
'The only scary things are the Agency for National Security Planning and domestic public opinion.'
Without those, no one could threaten Taeu.
As Kim Oh-jong sat in his chair and reached for a cigarette, his chief secretary entered with a report.
"Chairman."
"Yes, what is it?"
"There's a protest group in front of the headquarters."
"Foreigners again?"
Taeu's reputation as an evil corporation meant its headquarters lawn was constantly swarmed by blue-eyed foreigners staging protests.
They were a nuisance, but using assembly laws, security could clear them out five days a week, making it bearable.
"Not just foreigners—New Democratic Party members are there too."
"New Democratic Party?"
Kim Oh-jong strode to the office window and parted the blinds slightly.
In the distance, thousands of foreigners filled the lawn in front of the building.
Next to them, New Democratic Party flags and black-haired Koreans.
His brow furrowed at the sight.
"We gave them plenty of gifts—why are those guys showing up?"
The secretary hurriedly clarified, sensing the implication of a delivery mix-up.
"It's not the party leadership."
"Then?"
"It's Representative Lee Se-eun."
Kim Oh-jong felt a surge of irritation.
The dictator Lee Sung-jun, a former military man, had gotten along so well with the chaebols—why was his daughter like this?
Fine, she preached democratization, but railing about economic democracy and building a fair, just economic order while harassing businesses? Ridiculous.
"Any press showing up?"
"With Representative Lee Se-eun there, a few outlets will probably cover it soon."
That was a headache.
As Kim Oh-jong looked down, the protesters began chanting.
"Unethical criminal corporation Taeu—wake up! Wake up!"
Their voices rang out louder than ever.
Dealing with thousands of foreigners felt worlds apart from facing thousands of your own countrymen.
'The real issue is if politicians latch onto this.'
Then how much money would he have to throw around?
Kim Oh-jong glared at Lee Se-eun leading the chants with venomous eyes before letting the blinds fall.
"First, contact the media to counter anything involving Lee Se-eun."
"Yes, Chairman."
Not a single line about that woman's voice could see print.
No, that wouldn't be enough.
They needed to prepare for escalation.
After a moment's thought, Kim Oh-jong picked up the phone to his secretary's office.
"Get me a meeting with the ruling party leadership."
Kim Oh-jong's name carried immense weight.
The Republic Party leadership didn't make him wait until tomorrow—they set a meeting for that very evening.
Republic Party leader Lee Ki-seok arrived at the restaurant first and waited for Kim Oh-jong.
"Leader, have you been waiting long?"
"No, Chairman."
In the past, the government held absolute sway over economic power.
But as companies grew, the dynamic shifted.
Now, corporations that controlled investments and jobs had enough clout to influence politics.
Kim Oh-jong felt quiet satisfaction seeing Lee Ki-seok's deferential demeanor.
Over dinner, he laid out the issue.
"I asked to see you today about a public complaint."
"What kind?"
"Protests slandering 'our company' in front of headquarters are growing. With New Democratic Party Representative Lee Se-eun joining in, it's a huge burden on us."
Lee Ki-seok knew about the protests.
"The environmental demos led by foreigners?"
"Exactly."
Lee Ki-seok dipped sashimi in sauce and clicked his tongue.
"Why make such a fuss over problems in other countries? Representative Lee Se-eun too."
He chewed and swallowed a few pieces.
Free food always tasted better.
"You called me to keep this from blowing up, right?"
"Business hates surprises."
Lee Ki-seok agreed.
No surprises in governance or business.
That allowed long-term planning.
"Got it. I'll handle it as you ask. But getting things done requires some lubrication here and there."
Kim Oh-jong preferred the direct ask for favors.
No beating around the bush, no face-saving games—just straightforward demands and payoffs.
"I'll prepare that separately. Fifty big ones."
Fifty 100,000-won bills—a massive sum.
Lee Ki-seok's face lit up.
"Don't worry. I'll clean this up neat."
The two clinked glasses with smiles.
As long as Lee Ki-seok worked the assembly, Kim Oh-jong figured it wouldn't get serious.
But things didn't go smoothly.
"Taeu is this evil?"
"You bet."
Separate from the media, the world of PC communications threw a wrench in.
People shared protest updates online and spread the word.
As a result, crowds at Taeu headquarters swelled several times over.
"Criminal corporation Taeu—wake up!"
Back-to-back rally permits turned the area into a nightmare for getting in and out.
"Hey, you work at Taeu?"
"Yeah."
"Fucking scum."
Taeu employees faced curses and middle fingers on their commutes.
Sentiment soured even around the headquarters.
Taeu folks used to draw envy; now they drew whispers.
Employee morale plummeted.
"What the hell? What did Taeu ever do to them?"
Netizens fired back:
"You shame us Koreans, that's why. Assholes."
This drew attention even at Geumsusan.
"Taeu's in deep."
"Not something we can wrap up easily anymore."
Politically, backing cash-cow conglomerates made sense.
Diplomatically, supporting Taeu was a blunder.
Taeu was hated by Third World masses.
For a hegemon like the Republic of Korea, punishing Taeu served national interests.
Bae Seong-jun, who prioritized state over self, didn't agonize.
'If Taeu's doomed anyway, better back the attackers.'
Let the people taste victory in what they saw as "right."
Taeu shaking was a small price.
Korea had plenty of companies to replace it.
"Prepare comment manipulation targeting Taeu."
Bae Seong-jun ordered a torpedo strike on the wobbling giant.
"Understood."
His orders took effect fast.
PC networks flooded with Taeu info, branding them a criminal enterprise.
Media couldn't sit idle.
"We'll miss the wave."
Outlets jumped in, and politicians pounced—even despite the Republic Party leadership's tepid response, rookies tore into it relentlessly.
"I can't help lamenting how Korean conglomerates act like imperialists abroad."
Soon, it escalated to a National Assembly hearing.
"Answer! How much Agent Orange did you spray in Madagascar?"
Of course, like real-world messes, it didn't resolve cleanly.
Taeu weathered the storm with its sheer size.
But the muddled outcome still mattered.
The experience of public voices moving media and politics.
That would become precious fuel for future democracy.
'One step at a time.'
The shadow power broker watched Taeu's bowed chairman on TV, imagining himself someday bowing to the people's might.