The War of Public Opinion
Around the time Yeon-woo and his party left the gukbap restaurant and headed into the hotel to shake off the travel fatigue, what had been waiting to explode finally detonated back in Korea.
The Seoul Northern District Prosecutors' Office Criminal Division 3 (led by Prosecutor Kwon Chang-jung) has launched an investigation after tracing and recovering funds used in drug trafficking and related crimes, uncovering evidence that a substantial portion of those funds flowed into drama production company L Planning (CEO J).
According to prosecutors, digital forensic analysis of a smartphone seized from a suspect on the 24th…
Starting with reporter Kim Joon-kyung's investigation, the prosecution had already begun its inquiry, and the moment the press embargo lifted, a single exclusive article flipped public opinion on its head.
Drug-related cases had been pouring out lately, but to ordinary people they still felt like distant stories. The moment it came to light that the production company behind a currently popular drama series had financed the show with dirty money earned from drugs, however, it was as if gasoline had been dumped on an already raging fire — the blaze tore outward in every direction.
As always, speculative comments about the cast actors ran wild, while voices of self-reflection rose from another corner.
As the situation spiraled beyond control, Lake Film's CEO Jeong Yang-gi sat in his office, fretting and chewing his nails to the quick. He pulled out his smartphone and hurriedly dialed somewhere — only to hear a hollow automated message.
"The number you have dialed is not in service…"
The shadowy force that had been covering his back had already gone dark. No number he had ever used to reach them connected again.
"You sons of—!"
Jeong Yang-gi hurled his smartphone with raw force. At that exact moment, someone flung open the door to the CEO's office and stormed in.
"CEO Jeong! What the hell is going on?! Funds linked to a drug case — what kind of bullshit is this?!"
The man who entered was Director Jo Hoon-gwang, the man who had directed Daytona. The Jo Hoon-gwang who, despite being only a year younger, had always dutifully called him "hyungnim" was nowhere to be found.
Clang—
He roughly flung Jeong Yang-gi's nameplate from the desk and barked again.
"Why aren't you saying anything, you bastard?! Is the article true or not?!"
"I don't know! I said I don't know! All I did was take whatever the backer handed over and pass it along. Bank account numbers don't come with tags attached — how am I supposed to know if that money came from selling rice or selling drugs?!"
Of course, he knew now. Ever since the article dropped, no method of contact reached the backer. Why would an investor worth hundreds of billions go dark? The lizard had cut off its rotting tail — and this time, that tail was Jeong Yang-gi himself.
"Then you should get your ass to the Philippines or Vietnam and go underground already, you idiot! You gonna sit here throwing tantrums and chucking phones until the prosecutors haul you in, wring you dry, and drag me in for questioning too?!"
"I've already been slapped with a travel ban — how the hell am I supposed to run?!"
Jeong Yang-gi's eyes rolled wildly, then he shook his head.
"…No. I'm clean. All I did was take the money the backer gave me and pass it along for drama production. I didn't take a single cut for myself — I was just a middleman. I'd rather turn myself in before they summon me."
Hearing that, Director Jo Hoon-gwang seized him by the collar and hauled him up. Jo Hoon-gwang had plenty of his own reasons to sweat. The amount he had embezzled under the pretext of production costs alone ran into the hundreds of millions, and the corporate card records of his private spending spree could fill a truck. Under normal circumstances a connected tax accountant would have smoothed it all over, but now that the money he had spent had been identified as illegal funds, the National Tax Service and the prosecutors would strip his production expenditure records down to the soul. If anything, Jo Hoon-gwang was more desperate than CEO Jeong Yang-gi.
"You bastard…! Turning yourself in at a time like this? What are you, some kind of secret royal inspector?"
Jeong Yang-gi's eyes turned venomous.
"Yeah, that's right. You've got plenty of dirt under your nails, Jo Hoon-gwang. I didn't take a single thing for myself. You burned through all that production money and still got your ratings crushed by a basketball drama made on a fraction of a fraction of the budget, you moron — I haven't even recovered the production costs, so I gained nothing. I'm clean."
Jeong Yang-gi roughly shook off the hand gripping his collar and walked out. Left alone in the wrecked office, Jo Hoon-gwang's eyes roved around the room. They landed on the monitor screen still open on Jeong Yang-gi's desk.
Jo Hoon-gwang's face twisted as he read the article.
"…Yeah. This is all those bastards' fault."
He couldn't stand the sight of them. It wasn't mere inferiority or a thirst for revenge — a strategically useful idea for breaking through this crisis had just occurred to him.
"First I need to drag those bastards down and pull the spotlight. Getting out of the public eye is what matters right now."
Jo Hoon-gwang picked up his smartphone and dialed somewhere.
Rrring—
"Hey, PD Jo. Is the article true?"
The moment the call connected, the other party cut straight to verifying the facts.
Journalists, I swear…
Jo Hoon-gwang rearranged his expression and opened his mouth.
"Come on, Reporter Choi. You know how this business works. I don't know the full picture either, but even if it is true, what did I do wrong? All I do is take a commission and make a drama. The money changing hands is all office-desk people stuff."
"Well, that's true enough."
Then Jo Hoon-gwang lowered his voice to a near-whisper.
"More importantly — I heard something over drinks. You know that Ryu Yeon-woo who's been killing it lately…"
"Ryu Yeon-woo?"
Jo Hoon-gwang worked his three-inch tongue at the reporter who echoed the name back.
Agitation only takes one line, but refuting it takes a hundred. Nobody comes out clean when you shake them down — just plant the suspicion and the bait will roll on its own.
Meanwhile, Yeon-woo — who had received a brief overnight report from Han Hae-un on the state of the Korean press before falling asleep — woke in his hotel room after a solid rest.
Bzzzt—
The moment his eyes opened, the smartphone he had left by his pillow vibrated. A long message from Han Hae-un had arrived.
Team Leader, we've received intelligence that they're trying to spread tax-evasion rumors about you. No article has dropped yet, but a reporter named Choi Un-gyu at NK News has been going around asking other journalists for related information.
It appears they're trying to divert public attention with a malicious rumor for now.
Tax evasion…?
Yeon-woo read the message and let out a short laugh. When it came to tax-evasion angles, the NIS were the professionals. During domestic operations, if a major surveillance target looked likely to flee the country but no charges could yet be proven, tax-evasion suspicions were the first thing they hung on them. Proving innocence was complicated, and the "under review" pretext made it easy to stall for time. Travel bans were convenient to impose, and with a little weaving it could lead straight into a summons for questioning — a method domestic-division agents used freely while hiding behind investigative authority…
Who's behind it? Feels off for Baeksol to be involved.
If Baeksol had decided to eliminate him, they would have staged an accident or manufactured an airtight situation — making him the victim of a setup crime the way they had with An Jun-ho. Blindly swinging a tax-evasion charge was far too clumsy.
Sure enough, a reply from Han Hae-un came straight back.
Based on what we've gathered so far, this is Director Jo Hoon-gwang's doing. The reporter in question, Choi Un-gyu, is on hyung-dongsaeng terms with Jo Hoon-gwang. Looks like he's planting pieces in the press ahead of time to bury his own embezzlement case.
Yeon-woo nodded as he read the message.
How much time do we have?
It's 6 a.m. Korea time right now. They'll probably drop the article in the morning, so we have roughly three or four hours.
Hmm. About three hours… I figured a cornered rat would thrash around, but tax-evasion suspicions aimed at me? Unexpected. So he's choosing Goebbels after all.
There was a line attributed to Joseph Goebbels, Hitler's Nazi Minister of Propaganda:
Agitation can be done with a single sentence, but refuting it requires dozens of pages of documents and evidence. And by the time you try to refute it, the people are already agitated.
There was debate over whether Goebbels had actually said it — but if he hadn't, the sheer number of people who believed the line was his ironically proved the very sentence about agitation.
Likewise, the moment an article titled "Ryu Yeon-woo Tax Evasion Suspicions" dropped, public opinion would boil without anyone verifying the truth first.
And once it spreads, refuting it will take countless documents and evidence. In the meantime, the rumor will settle among people as established fact.
Yeon-woo let out a short laugh.
"Interesting."
They had already finished mapping the entire flow of funds, yet Yeon-woo and his operatives had deliberately not used the press to detonate the story before reporter Kim Joon-kyung broke it — for precisely this reason.
Even a worm will wriggle if you step on it, and a cornered rat will bite a cat.
This kind of hunt — driving the knife straight under the throat in one stroke — was not a good method.
Well, nothing to be done. It's already happened, so the only option is to extract maximum advantage from it.
Yeon-woo picked up his smartphone and dialed somewhere.
Rrring—
"Mmm… Kim Joon-kyung speaking."
A voice still half-asleep came through the receiver.
"Reporter Kim Joon-kyung. First, I apologize for contacting you so early. This is Ryu Yeon-woo — we ran into each other at a restaurant last time."
"Actor Ryu Yeon-woo?"
Startled by the unexpected name, reporter Kim Joon-kyung echoed it back. Yeon-woo nodded and continued.
"Yes. I have something important to discuss. I believe Director Yoo Do-hyun of the National Tax Service Investigation Analysis Division and Inspection Officer Oh Young-jin — whom we met together last time — should also be part of this conversation. This matter is deeply connected to you as well, Reporter Kim."
"…Excuse me?"
Yeon-woo finished speaking and smiled. Sometimes one person's words carried more force than dozens of pages of documents. Since things had come to this, he intended to use the press-driven tax-evasion attack as a preventive inoculation — slamming a powerful fire extinguisher down before public opinion could ignite, snuffing the blaze out in an instant.