The Ace Up the Sleeve - 2
» Just stay as you are. That's all.
There was plenty I wanted to ask, and just as much I wasn't sure I was handling right. Every time I tried, though, the answer that came back from Makina was always the same.
Praise for Park Namil poured out day after day, and alongside it came articles that never even bothered with an interview — pieces whose only purpose was to shake the ground. A few of them weren't worth so much as a gossip rag.
I kept to the routine work, and a week slipped past. By now even Yura was coming to me each morning with worry on her face to deliver the report: public opinion was flowing steadily in Park Namil's favor.
Honestly, the Park Namil those articles showed had been closing impressive deals and stacking up real contracts, and by adding charity work on top of it all he had buried his true character without a trace. The response, as expected, had reached the point where anything favorable to me was nearly impossible to find.
"Makina, is this really the right call?"
I had reassured Yura and sent her on, but I wasn't free of the worry myself.
» It's time.
"Huh?"
At last, after a full week, Makina gave me an answer to that question that had nothing to do with the daily work.
» The directors will come to see you today.
"Not for anything good, I assume."
» They're coming to protest. Whatever else happens, it should be enough if you show them this.
Makina must have been gathering something. Dozens of files began transferring onto my screen.
"This is..."
A short while later, the directors stood before the company entrance, faces drawn tight.
"After you."
"Oh, come on! We all came to have it out together, and now we're shoving it off on each other?"
Public opinion could shift all it liked. The man they had to face was still the Chairman, and even the directors couldn't help bracing themselves for an opponent like that.
"Times like this, the newest one — the last to come in — ought to step up first!"
"What? Not the eldest?"
And in a staring contest, the one at the greatest disadvantage was inevitably the director with the smallest equity and the weakest footing.
If I'd known it would come to this, I would've sided with President Park Namil...
Among the directors gathered now, the one left to carry the banner was Director Lim Jiha.
On any other day she would have taken the lead without a second thought. Today was different. At the last gathering of the directors, hadn't she already been marked by the Chairman?
Haah... I don't even know anymore.
Refuse to be first into the chairman's office, and the directors would mark her. Go in, and the Chairman would. Already marked, she finished convincing herself she had nothing left to lose, opened the door, and stepped through.
"Ah — welcome!"
Secretary Choi Yura waited just outside the door to the chairman's office, greeting them with a bright smile, and that smile gave the directors — who had come in so gloomily — a small measure of comfort.
"The Chairman has been expecting you."
They answered Secretary Choi Yura with nothing but a nod and followed her in.
"Welcome. I've been waiting."
Whether or not he knew what was happening outside, or where public opinion stood, he met them with an easy smile, and the directors felt hope and dread in equal measure.
"Ahem... I'm sorry to keep bringing unpleasant talk, the same as last time, but..."
Director Lim Jiha cleared her throat and brought out the words she had revised and rehearsed countless times on the way.
"Public opinion is what it is — a great deal of it has already gone over to President Park Namil — and even the partner firms are starting to sign separate contracts with him. Why is the Chairman simply sitting still?"
Inwardly, Director Lim Jiha congratulated herself. She hadn't raised her voice. She was confident she had asked, calmly, exactly the sort of question a director was entitled to ask.
"Yes. I think it's entirely reasonable for the directors to be concerned."
Lee Jinwoo nodded as if in sympathy, then quietly drew a sheaf of documents from a drawer.
They had expected excuses, or at least a promise that he was about to do something. Delivered in a voice full of confidence, the answer was one none of them had seen coming, and it left them more flustered than reassured.
"Would you take a look at these documents?"
One by one, the directors turned through the papers he handed them. On the surface, they were ordinary contracts Park Namil had signed.
"They're just simple contracts, aren't they? What exactly are we supposed to make of this?"
True, the way the profits were split on paper was aggressive compared with the terms the company usually signed. But at a moment when people were fighting to become chairman, contracts of that sort looked, if anything, acceptable.
"Yes. That's right. On the surface, they're ordinary contracts. But what if we also had this?"
A red USB rested in Lee Jinwoo's hand. The directors had been wondering what could possibly be on it to make him so sure of himself — and the moment he played it, every one of them could only be stunned.
"This is real?"
A few hours before the directors arrived, I had gone through the documents and files Makina uploaded, and the shock left me unable to finish the sentence.
"I thought he at least had the company in mind..."
The documents held nothing but the same outrageous terms. What mattered was the recording.
"Where did this come from? Makina?"
» People who do things they can't afford to show don't trust one another. Keeping insurance on each other is simply standard practice.
Park Namil's voice was unmistakable on the recording, and the more I listened, the clearer it became that he thought of nothing but his own power and his own seat.
"If this contract only links up the way it should, then even if the quality drops a little, you'll still be able to take a much greater profit, sir."
"Hah... but what if the consumers notice..."
"Ha ha ha! What are you so worried about? Who are we? High Group. There are plenty of people lining up to buy our products anyway."
Make the goods from cheap materials so the unit cost falls, then raise the price so the profits look even fatter — a hustler's trick. They might be in the middle of a contest, but this had crossed the line.
» Park Namil means to use High Group's power so that even if buyers learn the quality has fallen, he can lean on High Group's credibility.
"Once there's a baseline of trust, people will buy heavily in the short term..."
A classic ploy for winning a competition. A contract that served no one but himself — certainly not the company.
And now the directors who had heard that recording wore faces drowned in shock.
"No matter how badly you want the chairman's seat... this is too much."
"You're telling me. This could deal a serious blow to the company!"
The directors began murmuring among themselves. Somewhere along the way they had stopped paying me any mind at all and were talking only to each other.
Then why did you tell me to sit still?
» If we revealed this while Park Namil is running his media play, people would only be thrown into confusion — and High Group would lose both its credibility and its share price.
In other words, it would collapse into a mud fight with nothing left at the center, and going that route would mean failing to protect even what we still could. That was how Makina explained it to me.
Then when do we bring this out?
» It isn't time yet. We need evidence that is more certain. More complete. Evidence so strong that no tide of public opinion could possibly shield Park Namil.
"Um... Chairman?"
I had been deep in conversation with Makina when the directors, their talk apparently settled at last, turned and looked at me.
"We've come to understand how deep your intentions run. From now on, we will trust and follow only you, Chairman!"
"That's right! We never imagined it went this far!"
What followed was a round of loyalty oaths so thick they were almost embarrassing. I smiled awkwardly, called Yura, and asked her to see the directors out.
When it comes to handling the directors, Yura really is better at it than I am.
» A wise judgment.
Talk about the work itself was one thing. Chatter like that, Yura would take far more pleasantly than I ever could.
Most of the directors went out after her with bright faces. One of them, though, still had unfinished business.
"Director Lim Jiha, would you stay a moment and speak with me?"
"Y-yes?!"
The most suspicious person in the room was worth pressing.