Press Conference — 2
The funeral hall was already in full motion when I arrived, people hurrying in every direction.
As this is being conducted as a public funeral, a great many guests are expected.
I listened to Makina's brief report and looked up at the Chairman's smiling face, hung among a sea of white chrysanthemums.
"Does it please you, smiling down from up there?"
There was a sulk in the words, but the Chairman in the photograph went on smiling all the same.
"You're earlier than I expected."
I couldn't have said how long I'd been standing there. A woman's voice turned my head, and there was Lee Sieun — the woman I'd met in the chairman's office the day before — dressed in a black mourning hanbok, her secretary beside her.
"Did you see the press conference?"
"Well, it wasn't bad. I'll give you a generous sixty. Come with me. Everyone's waiting."
Checking over the funeral arrangements was part of why I'd come, but so was the other reason: a meeting with the owner family.
I followed Sieun into a private room set aside for VIPs even within the funeral hall. The people waiting there wore the same black as she did.
They are considerably wary of you, Representative.
Every face in the room was arranged in grief, but from the moment I stepped through the door the eyes that turned on me were sharp.
President Park Namil has not yet been confirmed present.
"Then I'd better finish this while I can."
I'd come expecting to meet him. If he wasn't here, his absence was an opportunity of its own.
"Allow me to introduce him. In accordance with Grandfather's will, this is Lee Jinwoo, currently serving as representative of our company."
Sieun stepping forward to make the introduction was unexpected. I bowed to match it.
"You've got some nerve. Will or no will..."
The sharp words came the instant the greeting ended.
President Jeong Unho, of High Group's automotive division. Recent results have been poor, and with the chairmanship changing on top of that, he is worried for his own position.
In short, he is a small man fretting over his seat even now — and if he were not some distant relative of the Chairman, he would not be in this room at all.
Makina gave me Jeong Unho in detail — who he was, and precisely why he was turning that edge on me — and she did not spare me the caustic verdict of her own.
"And above all—"
"There's no need to worry, President Jeong."
I cut across him. It was a breach of courtesy, but Makina's read was clear enough: settle the thing he was fretting over, and he wouldn't spare me another thought.
"What— right now you—"
"With the Chairman gone, this is exactly when we need a veteran's eye like yours. I'd be grateful if you'd stand beside me and help."
It was a lie salted with a measure of truth — I did need the help — but it was enough for President Jeong. He cleared his throat and looked me over sidelong.
"Ahem... well. I'm hardly a man who clings to his seat, but since you put it that way, I'll lend a hand."
After that, the rest went smoothly. Whenever someone found fault with my being chairman, Makina supplied what I needed to know about them, and I answered in the currency of whatever they were holding onto. Of course—
Is this person seriously worrying about something like that, at a time like this?
They're only picking a fight because staying quiet while everyone else complains would make them look soft. A light touch will do.
Makina's brutal assessments kept pace with every one of them.
Even as I answered, I felt it. Sieun was right. Not one of them could actually bring themselves to challenge my taking the chairman's seat.
My name was written plainly in the will, yes — but that wasn't what they were afraid of. Nearly every voice in the room was fretting over its own interests. Not a single person was worried for the Chairman.
I understood, with a sharpness that hurt, what Sieun had meant when she said that to me.
"Then I'll—"
"My. It seems I'm late."
I had confirmed there was nothing left to say and was turning to check on the funeral preparations when the voice came.
Executing Care.
Biometric and psychological stabilization engaged.
If Makina hadn't steadied my body and mind that fast, I would have gone down where I stood.
"Park Namil... you're late."
"Oh — if it isn't President Sieun."
What came off his smiling face was not wariness. It was killing intent. While I, only just pulled back from the edge, was still choosing my words, Sieun — silent until then — stepped in between us and faced him.
"I heard you got in yesterday. Off making trouble again, I bet!"
"Hahaha. You'll give people the wrong idea, calling it trouble. Right, noona?"
The woman who had been standing behind Park Namil finally came into the room.
A natural-looking red bob, horn-rimmed glasses, a neatly cut suit that announced secretary to anyone looking. She worked the tablet in her hands for a moment, then held it out to Sieun.
"Current traffic in Seoul. Every road on the way in was jammed, so you'll understand, won't you?"
"Funny, coming from someone who usually just has the escort cars shut the roads..."
Sieun grumbled, but she had nothing left to say. Even from where I stood, the tablet was solid red.
Given the way he usually carried himself, I was certain he'd been up to something on the way here. Certainty, though, was not evidence.
"Then if you'll excuse me a moment. I have something to discuss with our representative."
"What? Hey, I wasn't finished—"
Park Namil walked past Sieun, came up to me, and offered his hand.
"This is our first time, isn't it? Park Namil, High Defense."
"...We met once, at a gathering of the Chairman's family. Lee Jinwoo."
A remarkable poker face.
Anger, disgust, and hostility that never appeared in the data — that he can hide this much of it. Be careful, Chairman.
While we shook hands, Makina read his present state and spoke. Park Namil's face looked like nothing but a smile. If she wasn't wrong, the hostility toward me packed inside that expression was so vast it was hard to believe this was him holding any of it back.
"Hahaha, did we? I'm sorry. I've never been good at remembering people who don't matter."
"Then you can start remembering properly from now on."
I met the jab with a jab. The handshake ended, and in the silence that followed we took each other's measure.
"There's something I need to tell you, and this isn't the place. My treat. How about a quick cup of coffee?"
"...Right now?"
An invitation I hadn't seen coming. It wasn't as if my schedule were empty, and if I'm honest, every instinct said to dodge him — but Makina seemed to think otherwise.
You should accept. Our data on President Park Namil is far too thin. This is the perfect chance to learn something about him.
And if I don't?
You might be safe for the moment, but securing Miss Lee Sieun's cooperation will be difficult.
Sieun? I couldn't see why her name had suddenly come into it. I glanced her way; she still looked thoroughly displeased, arms folded, watching the two of us.
Why is Sieun suddenly part of this?
For now, trust me with this.
Sometimes this AI had a habit of withholding whatever she decided I didn't need to know.
Having heard that much, I couldn't back down here.
"Fine. Do you know a place?"
"As it happens, I do. Follow me. I'll tell the driver where."
Park Namil went out first. As I moved to follow, Sieun caught my wrist.
"Be careful. There's no telling what he'll do."
"...Thank you for worrying."
I left with her concern at my back. The car brought me to a café in a hotel that looked expensive at a glance, all of Seoul laid out beneath the windows.
"Makina."
Yes, Chairman.
"Are you still running Care?"
Continuous activation since the meeting with President Park Namil.
Biometric and psychological stabilization in effect.
Duration: Ongoing
"I thought so..."
The staff were as tight-lipped as you'd expect of a place like this. From taking the order to bringing it out, not one of them said a word.
It was only the two of us in that private room. Had I been my ordinary self, the atmosphere alone would have been enough to turn my stomach.
"Now we can talk quietly."
Park Namil smiled as if the quiet finally pleased him, and drank his coffee.
"What was it you brought me here to say?"
"Mm... I hate talking in circles, so I'll be direct."
He set down the cup, laced his fingers, and looked at me.
"That seat isn't yours. Step down. Now."
And as he said what he really meant, Park Namil's expression didn't so much as flicker. He was still smiling.