Corruption Exposed

I had no way of knowing how far the rot went. But if Lee Jungwan had been taking orders from Vice President Oh Sang-do when he committed it, I couldn't rule out the possibility that Director Heo Ji-hye and CEO Han Seung-woo were implicated as well.

The chaebol will wriggle their way out of it, of course.

Still, with no successor yet named, finding themselves dragged through an unsavory public scandal was hardly a situation they'd enjoy. My goal, in any case, was to dig up Team Leader Lee Jungwan's graft. Anything that didn't connect back to him, I'd only pursue far enough to use as a bargaining chip for my exit from Iljin Group.

Eco Plastic was clearly concealing a de facto shutdown — quietly farming the work out to some other facility and delivering the goods under their own name. Director Park Kwang-il was almost certainly covering for them.

"Would it be possible to get the owner's contact information?"

"What for? You looking to give him work?"

"Yes. Assuming we can agree on a unit price, of course."

"Hang on a minute."

The old security guard disappeared into the factory building and came back with a scrap of paper, a name and a number scrawled across it.

"Give that a call."

"Thank you, sir."

The name on the slip was CEO Kim Man-deok. Back in the car, I compared it against the representative listed on the business registration certificate. They didn't match.

"What'd he say? They not taking work?"

"Yeah. That's what he told me."

I slipped the note into my wallet and punched the next factory address into the GPS.

Daeseong TS, in Yeoju — another company with Director Park Kwang-il listed as the referring party. That one, and Yujin Chemical in Pocheon, were no different from Eco Plastic in Pyeongtaek. The factory gates were padlocked shut, and the locks were so rusted they'd clearly been out of business for a long time.

Han Ha-jin clicked his tongue, looking genuinely sorry.

"I've been hearing a lot of small manufacturers are going under from lack of work these days. I guess it's true. If we hadn't come out here like you said, we would've been in real trouble."

"No kidding."

"Where to next?"

"We've checked everything we needed to see today. Time to head back to the office."

"Yes, sir."

After that, I started going through the three factories' quotes in detail — and found a new common thread. The line items were identical, just listed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in a different order, with each company's unit prices multiplied by a different ratio. If Eco Plastic's unit price was 100 won, Company A had multiplied by 1.1, Company B by 1.2, then shuffled the sequence of the items.

In other words, one person had written up quotes under several different company names and submitted them all. Circumstances that reeked of bid-rigging — or paper companies. Or both.

The problem is, I still don't have a shred of proof connecting any of this to Team Leader Lee Jungwan.

I was still debating whether to simply exclude those quotes and hand the rest off to the execution team when I stumbled onto something new. Entirely by accident.

I was waiting at a bus stop near the Sunnytronics building. I'd come to check how far along the pill dispenser repackaging had gotten.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Once I'd confirmed that a well-built man in a suit had gone in through the factory entrance, I left the stop and headed for the Sunnytronics building myself. Wearing the shabby tracksuit I'd scored at the Dongmyo flea market the day before, I loitered at the factory gate until a man in his mid-thirties, who'd been sorting inventory, came over and asked,

"Hey. What do you want?"

"Ah — hello."

I greeted him with an easy, eager smile.

"I was wondering if you might have any openings here."

"Openings?"

He looked me up and down, then muttered to himself.

"Nice build. Twenties?"

"Heh. Yes. Just got out of the military not too long ago."

"Part-time okay?"

"Yes, that's fine."

"Wait here a second. I'll go ask at the office."

He dropped into the casual register and headed toward the office. The moment he was gone, I wandered deeper inside, pretending to look around. Most of the workers busily disassembling electronics were Vietnamese. A stack of white cardboard boxes piled in one corner of the factory confirmed it — the same photo as the pill dispensers PharmCare sold, with Chinese-language descriptions printed on the side.

There were roughly three hundred of them sitting right there. Through the gap of an open warehouse door, far more of the same boxes were stacked beyond. With no other packaging in sight, the devices the workers were tearing down and sorting had to be the pill dispensers.

Tap, tap.

Someone clapped me on the shoulder. I turned around. It was the same man from before.

"They said the parts aren't all in yet, so they won't need part-timers for another month."

So the product casings for the repackaging would arrive in a month. That would be when the real work kicked off.

"Ah. I see."

I let my shoulders slump in disappointment and trudged out of the factory. The moment I reached the bus stop, a car pulled up right on cue — the one I'd rented for today's operation.

I opened the back door and climbed in. Kwak Sang-hoon, the deluxe taxi driver, handed me a business card.

"Here. The factory director's card. He said the job they've just taken on is so big they won't be able to accept new orders until March of next year."

"I see. Thank you for your trouble."

"It was nothing, really. Though I'm not sure I should be accepting a suit this expensive for something this small."

"Your sister's getting married soon, isn't she? A man needs at least one decent suit for that."

He'd mentioned that the wedding was right around the corner and he hadn't had time to buy anything to wear, so I'd given him a suit I'd bought for the winter. He'd refused to take it for free, which was how I'd ended up asking him to come along today. We were about the same size; the suit fit him perfectly.

"How's your father doing these days? You mentioned he wasn't well."

The driver let out a long sigh.

"No improvement at all. If he could just make it to my sister's wedding, I'd feel a little more at ease."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Riding with him nearly every day to and from work, I'd come to know a little about his life. The deluxe taxi had originally been his father's. When the old man was suddenly injured in an accident, Kwak Sang-hoon had taken over the wheel to keep the family afloat — and thanks to that, he'd been able to see his younger sister married off without anyone looking down on them.

"Supporting your sister through university and covering your father's hospital bills on top of that... that couldn't have been easy."

"Easy? It's just what you do. As long as my father's still with us, I'll keep working as hard as I can."

The look on his face as he said it was terribly dark.

"When the invitations come out, send me one, would you? I'll at least send a congratulatory wreath."

"Haha. That's all right. I appreciate the thought."

The light turned green and the car started moving again. I let the conversation drop so he could focus on the road. I was about to slip the business card he'd given me into my wallet when I froze.

Kim Man-deok, Factory Director, Sunnytronics. Why does that name sound so familiar?

Something felt off. I pulled the scrap of paper I'd stashed in my wallet.

It matched the Eco Plastic owner's contact from Pyeongtaek exactly.

This was clear evidence that Team Leader Lee Jungwan was involved in the plastics project. He'd already known the project would be revived, so he'd lowballed the bid just to get himself a seat at the table.

But one thing still didn't make sense.

Why kill a project that had been going so well?

Had someone further up the chain caught a whiff of the graft that had been going on in the shadows? If that was the case...

Whoever it is could end up being a spoiler for our own venture.

I needed to find out who that someone was — the sooner, the better.

Team Leader Lee Jungwan hurried to the office at Han Se-ah's summons. The moment she saw him, she launched into him without so much as a greeting.

"What the hell is going on? The eco-friendly plastic containers — that was originally Team 2's project, wasn't it?"

"It was, but we judged it had no commercial viability and dropped it last year."

"So a project with zero commercial viability suddenly became viable the second it moved to Team 1? Is that what you're telling me?"

"I honestly have no idea how that—"

Han Se-ah's glare shut his mouth for him.

"As long as I'm the one backing you, Team 2 had better be sitting in first place. You understand what I'm saying, right?"

"Of course I do."

"I want the initial sales volume on the supplement dispenser pushed even higher. At least double Team 1's numbers."

"D-double? That's not going to be possible with the current budget."

Lee Jungwan's face twisted with discomfort. Han Se-ah clicked her tongue, irritated.

"How much more do you need?"

"Well... another eight billion won or so might do it..."

He watched her face carefully as he answered. She approved it on the spot.

"Fine. Redo the budget proposal. I'll tell General Affairs to fund it."

"Thank you, Director."

Lee Jungwan bowed at the waist. Han Se-ah, wearing that haughty look of hers, asked,

"Who are you using for the commercial?"

"We've been in contact with Cha Eun-yu, Joo Seon-jae, and Kang Do-won, but Cha Eun-yu's asking price has gone through the roof lately. We'll probably have to go with either Joo Seon-jae or Kang Do-won."

"Use Cha Eun-yu."

"Cha Eun-yu? His rate is more than double the other actors—"

Han Se-ah clicked her tongue as if he were being deliberately dense.

"So we just bump the subsidy to ten billion, right?"

"Absolutely. I'll go lock him in right now."

Having received his marching orders to sign Cha Eun-yu ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠immediately, Lee Jungwan stepped out of Han Se-ah's office. The hangdog look he'd been wearing the entire time vanished, replaced by a beam of pure ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠delight. He called the advertising agency at once and instructed them to lock in Cha Eun-yu.

He hung up and came around the corner of the hallway, grinning from ear to ear — and walked straight into Kang Minhyuk. Lee Jungwan had something he needed to confirm with him anyway, so he approached with warm familiarity.

I'd just gotten off the phone with Section Chief Oh Seung-won, who'd informed me that they were scaling the supplement dispenser's sales volume to more than double the original target, and was on my way back to the office when I happened to overhear Team Leader Lee Jungwan's call.

The bigger Han Se-ah made the pie, the better it was for me. The harder Iljin Group pushed the Healthy ads, the more brand awareness the pill dispenser as a product category would gain.

I pretended the encounter was a coincidence and greeted him warmly as he came around the corner, still grinning.

"Good afternoon, Team Leader. Looks like something good happened."

"Haha. Good? Company work is company work. Ah — you free for a bit after we wrap up this evening?"

"If you're the one asking, I'll make time even if I don't have it."

"Haha. Now that's the right attitude. I'll text you the place in a bit."

When the workday ended, a text arrived from Team Leader Lee Jungwan. I told my team I had an appointment and left ahead of them, then headed to the café he'd named.

"Kang — over here."

"Sorry. I should've gotten here sooner. Work ran a little late."

"It's fine. Happens when you're busy."

Lee Jungwan laughed with that good-natured face of his and held out his card.

"Go grab whatever you want."

"No, I'll get it. I was planning to eat this as dinner before heading to the gym anyway."

"Oh, come on, don't be like that. I may not be your direct supervisor, but I'm still your superior — I can't even treat a junior to one meal? Besides, I owe our Associate Kang more than I can count."

"Owe me? Not at all."

"My arm's going to fall off. Just take it."

I accepted his card, looking suitably reluctant.

"You must be hungry, so order whatever you like, don't be shy. I'll head up to the second floor first. Ah — Americano for me."

Order whatever I like — and then he asks for an Americano? His cheapskate ulterior motive was painfully obvious.

I scanned the menu, then commenced my order.

"One Americano, and a grande Vanilla Bean Cream Frappuccino. For the Frappuccino — heavy cream, unsweetened milk, extra caramel syrup, two scoops of protein chocolate powder. Oh, and extra coconut flakes, plus a half-shot of low-fat soy milk. ... For the bread: one chicken sandwich, one arugula pesto sandwich, one cream cheese brioche, one bagel, one chocolat, and two salted breads. For dessert, one slice of cheesecake, one slice of Mont Blanc — ah, and we'll need coffee to go with the dessert, of course."

When I took the card receipt, the total had sailed well past 120,000 won. I stood there looking thoroughly satisfied, and the barista offered to bring everything up herself. I asked her to split it into a meal round and a dessert round, thirty minutes apart, then headed upstairs.

Lee Jungwan, who had nearly jumped out of his skin at the amount on his phone, spotted me, hurriedly darkened the screen, and offered an awkward smile. I handed him the receipt and the card with an apologetic look.

"Prices these days are just absurd. Coffee and bread that cost as much as beef."

"Haha. It's a famous franchise. Just think of it as the advertising premium."

"Sometimes being a salaryman really does feel like a dead end. When a paycheck is the only money coming in... maybe I should start investing, even if I'm late to the game."

A nasty gleam flickered through Team Leader Lee Jungwan's eyes the instant he heard me say it.