President Jung the Hyena
President Jung of Kyungin Distribution had absolutely nothing to complain about with the way things had turned out.
Deputy General Manager Cho from headquarters had promised to compensate him, so he had gone ahead and dumped inventory into the electronics market.
They were older models, after all—if his luck ran out, he could find himself stuck with dead stock for months before being forced to liquidate it at bargain-basement prices. Being told to dump it into the electronics market before that could happen had made him positively giddy.
On top of that, as "compensation," they were pushing nearly 1,500 units of the latest smartphone models at close to a 30% discount. He was genuinely grateful.
Even if he dumped the newest models straight into the electronics market the moment they arrived, he figured he'd pocket somewhere in the range of 300 to 400 million won.
Then Deputy General Manager Cho asked for 100 million, saying it had to be paid up the chain.
Of course, he could afford that much.
After all, with the right bribes, he was confident he could pluck as many persimmons as he liked from the tree.
So he had wined and dined Managing Director Kim and Deputy General Manager Cho with the utmost care.
In the weeks since, he'd taken them out for the occasional round of golf and plenty of drinks.
He had a fair idea of the rumor that Managing Director Kim skimmed kickbacks from dealerships he was friendly with.
Sure enough—once Managing Director Kim decided he and President Jung had grown close enough, the man came to him first with an offer.
He needed 200 million won for a promotion, he said.
In return, he would push through whatever product President Jung needed.
With the Winter Olympics coming up in early next year, TVs were bound to sell like hotcakes, so President Jung asked for TV supply.
The very next day, a call came through: the fake delivery had been approved.
So he scraped together 200 million won in cash and handed it over to Managing Director Kim.
He had everything staged and ready to dump the TVs into the market the moment they shipped, when the matter of the phone dumping blew up and Managing Director Kim made the awkward request that the TV shipment be pushed back to the end of the month.
Truthfully, he wasn't thrilled about it, but he grudgingly went along.
Then today, Deputy General Manager Cho shows up and starts talking nonsense—offering to return the 200 million in cash if they canceled the TV delivery altogether.
It was nothing short of a godsend.
With the phone dumping already exposed at the electronics market, if the TV scheme got caught too, he'd be forced to shut his dealership's doors for good.
So deep down, he had actually been hoping the fake delivery would be called off.
The 200 million he'd handed over was no loss either—he'd simply think of it as an advance payment. Once the market settled down, he was certain Managing Director Kim would grant him a fake delivery or two on request.
And now, of all things, headquarters itself was offering to cancel the fake TV delivery first.
Now we're talking, he thought—and flipped the script with a counteroffer of his own.
He demanded 300 million back, the bribe of 100 million he'd handed over in late October included.
Deputy General Manager Cho spent about ten minutes on the phone with Managing Director Kim, then gave the OK sign.
Managing Director Kim was clearly treading carefully in the wake of this mess.
Whatever the case, the phone fiasco had put several hundred million won in President Jung's pocket.
And the phone dumping itself was already old news—water long under the bridge, beyond anything he could control.
The dealership owners filing formal complaints with headquarters was a situation that couldn't be undone.
But if headquarters ever tried to cut off his business or suspend his shipments, he would simply slap down the written pledge Deputy General Manager Cho had signed.
Then there'd be nothing headquarters could do to him either.
At this very moment, he was holding the winning hand.
The ultimate card that could never, ever lose him money.
When Young-hoon got back to the office, everyone seemed to be out on field calls—only Park Dae-ri was left behind.
"Back from your field visit already?"
"Yeah. You didn't go anywhere?"
"Don't even get me started. I'm buried in information reports. Spent the whole day grinding out five of them—I thought I was going to die."
"And yet you managed to fill all five? Where'd you even dig up the material?"
"Turned the entire internet inside out. My eyes hurt."
"What about Manager Kim and Jin-man? Is Deputy General Manager Cho clocking out on location again today?"
"Jin-man and Manager Kim should be back around five. As for Deputy General Manager Cho—no word from him at all, so I'm guessing it's another local sign-out."
It bothered Young-hoon how often Deputy General Manager Cho left the office empty like this.
His work ethic had never been exactly diligent, but lately it had gone from bad to egregious.
"Isn't Deputy General Manager Cho doing local sign-outs way too much these days? What on earth is he off doing out there...?"
"Tell me about it. My theory? He's out trying to cover up the phone dumping."
"Right? That's what I think too. But with things this ugly, do you think they'll actually push through the TV delivery at month's end?"
"I vote cancel. You?"
"Aw, then it's not even a bet. I vote cancel too. Unless President Jung's an idiot, he's not going to go through with the TV delivery. So what happens to the approval memo then?"
"We just kill it, obviously. The evidence will still be on record, though. Attempted fake delivery."
While Young-hoon and Park Dae-ri were chatting away, Manager Kim returned to the office.
Jin-man must have been running a little later.
When Young-hoon submitted his report on Namseoul Distribution, Manager Kim teased him for being born under a lucky star.
Young-hoon drafted a preliminary briefing on the Myeongseong University bid, leaving it on his desk where Deputy General Manager Cho would see it the next morning.
As quitting time arrived, the employees filed out of the office one by one.
Young-hoon glanced around furtively, then rose from his desk.
His report was already finished—there was no reason to linger.
Today he had to stop by his apartment in Sinsa-dong to pick up the elixirs and deliver them to Chunghyo General Hospital in Pungnap-dong.
He'd already called Director Park to let him know he'd be late, so there was no rush.
Sure enough, the road out of the office at quitting hour was a full-blown parking lot.
It took him nearly an hour to reach his building.
He dashed upstairs to grab the elixirs, but on the way back down, the security guard called out to him.
Someone had stopped by earlier that day, the guard explained, asking him to pass along a car key to the man in unit 402.
The guard, positively buzzing as though the car had been a gift to him personally, led Young-hoon down to the underground parking garage.
And the car—well, it was dripping with flash.
The luxury foreign model rumored to be the chairman's ride of choice at some chaebol group or other.
Word was the price tag ran well past several hundred million won; driving it down the street would no doubt turn every head on the block.
Young-hoon didn't need to think twice about who was behind it.
Chairman Choi had mentioned picking out a car for him just days ago.
He opened the door and found a note tucked inside.
Sure enough—a car from Chairman Choi.
Young-hoon, I left this here for you. My son bought it and I doubt he drives it more than twice a year, so you might as well put it to good use.
It's supposed to be one of the safest cars on the road, and it's barely a year old—perfect for a busy man who's always on the move.
— Chairman Choi
Young-hoon was struck, once again, by Chairman Choi's thoughtfulness.
He reached for the phone to thank him right away, then figured they'd both just end up feeling awkward about it—so he settled on a text message instead.
No reply came back, though.
Well, he'd test-drive it Wednesday when he went to pick up his parents. For today, he hopped into his trusty old compact—his faithful steed—and headed for Chunghyo General Hospital in Pungnap-dong.
At the hospital, he called Director Park, who said he was waiting in his office.
When Young-hoon reached the fifteenth floor, the secretary was waiting for him and opened the door.
"Young-hoon, welcome."
"Good to see you, Director Park. You look a good ten years younger than the last time I saw you."
"Do I? You really see it too?"
"Of course. What reason would I have to butter up the Director? Although... um... have you, ah... noticed the effects?"
"Have I ever! Absolutely sensational. It's been four days since I took that elixir, you know.
And it still comes up firm and proud every single time. The elixir is the real deal, no question about it. Do you have any idea how much love I've been getting from Sung-ho's mother lately? One day her lover, the next her husband... hahahahaha..."
Director Park carried on showering praise for quite a while before trailing off with an embarrassed cough.
Evidently, it dawned on him that this wasn't the sort of thing to share with his son's classmate.
Young-hoon, showing not the slightest sign of minding, pulled the elixir out of his bag and handed it over.
"The elixir you requested, Director."
"Young-hoon, listen... is there any chance you could get more of this elixir?
Plenty of VVIPs come through our hospital, you know. Most of them are up there in years, and if this really takes ten years or more off their age, they'll pay anything for a bottle. I'm telling you, they'd buy it by the truckload.
Our hospital gains prestige, you make money—a win-win all around, no? What do you say? Any thoughts?"
"Director, I only have three bottles left. And since I've handed the rights to sell the elixir over to the two Chairmen, it would be quickest to ask them about it directly."
"Hmm, is that so. Understood. In that case, I'll speak with the two Chairmen myself, so don't trouble yourself over it. Now then—shall we go get dinner? How about that Japanese place from last time? Chairman Jang did tell me to treat myself to something good, and honestly, nothing around here beats it."
When Young-hoon and Director Park arrived at the Japanese restaurant, the side dishes were already laid out—apparently a reservation had been made in advance.
Until the main course arrived, the two of them covered everything from the state of the world to their private lives.
"I went hiking with my second son yesterday, and your name came up. The boy called you a genuine upright-citizen type."
"Hardly. I'm much weaker than you think. Sung-ho just sees me through rose-colored glasses."
"Oh, quit with the false modesty. A country bumpkin from Gangwon Province—how tough could you have been? Anyway, my son mentioned something about an herbal powder. What's that all about?"
"Ah, that. Over Chuseok, I didn't only receive elixirs from the Taoist Master of Mount Taebaek. He gave me some herbal powder too, and said that if you mix it into food, it makes the food taste even better. So I tried stirring it into my coffee. He was probably talking about that."
"Is that right? Then maybe I'll get a taste myself, eh?"
"I have a little with me now. Once we finish the meal, I'll mix some into your dessert tea."
"Now that I'm looking forward to. What are the effects, though? If a Taoist master handed it over, there must be something special about it."
"Nothing's been studied in detail yet, but it definitely improves the taste of food, and it seems to have an awakening effect—I find myself bursting with energy all day long."
At the word energy, Director Park's eyes flashed sharp.
Old or young, it seemed men's thoughts invariably went to exactly one place.
After all, Chairman Choi had asked him the very same question when they'd met last week.
Director Park asked without a shred of shame, his expectation plain on his face.
"Doesn't do anything down... there, though?"
"...Unfortunately, no."
"Ah, is that so. That's a bit of a shame."
Before long the meal was over, and tea and coffee arrived for dessert.
Director Park leaned toward tea, so Young-hoon stirred a pinch of the Magic Seasoning into a cup and passed it over.
The moment he swallowed his first sip, Director Park shot his thumb skyward and let out a cry of astonishment.
"Good heavens—the tea has transformed into this? I'll never be able to drink another cup of ordinary tea again. Could you possibly get me some of this as well?"
"As it happens, I'm planning to make time and visit my hometown soon. If I can get some then, I'll gladly share."
"Bless you, lad. Two hundred billion won will be wired to the account you gave me tomorrow morning. This is a promise between men, mind you—you know it stays absolutely secret from my son, right?"
"Of course. And you must keep it secret from Sung-ho as well, Director."
"Naturally. Well, if we're done eating, let's get up. Sorry to cut it short, but I have to run to a night shift, you see. I paid my dues to the wife through yesterday—tonight it's my lover who needs appeasing."
After parting ways with Director Park, Young-hoon called a designated-driver service.
All that drinking over the meal had left him decently tipsy.
When he got home, Su-jin was sitting in the living room watching TV.
Apparently she'd been waiting up for him.
"Big bro, can't you get off work early for once? Every night you come home late smelling of booze—Mom's heard all about it, you know?"
Excuse me? What is this? Since when is she my wife?
Why does it feel like the nagging is getting worse by the day...?
Did I just make a colossal mistake here?
Young-hoon found himself increasingly convinced he'd let his sister move in under false pretenses.
Forget being treated like a beloved elder brother—he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd quietly been demoted to the rank of live-in butler.