Chapter 102
Chapter 102
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 102
Chapter Title: Han-ASEAN Camp (2)
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Every Monday at noon.
As the antique grandfather clock chimes with a deep dong-grong, the atmosphere in the Blue House shifts in an instant, accompanied by the rich aroma of coffee.
Chief secretaries line up in front of the President's office, waiting their turn.
Like Cinderella after the magic wears off, even the sternest high officials turn into nervous mice before a cat.
"Whew... How do I even put this?"
Policy Chief Park Dong-hee was no exception.
Sitting on the long bench, he nervously licked the coffee stain from his lips with his tongue.
"You're calling this thinking? Get out! Right now!"
Soon, thunderous shouting leaked through the crack in the door.
The President's face flushed red like a beet.
The echo of his bellow hadn't even faded yet when it was suddenly Park Dong-hee's turn.
"Your Excellency...? May I report right away?"
"Whew, yes. Park Chief. I'm ready, so go ahead."
"Ah, yes. Well, the current approval ratings for the by-elections are... uh...."
A topic as sensitive as could be. Policy Chief Park Dong-hee squeezed his eyes shut and pressed on with his strained voice.
He barely managed to spit out that the situation wasn't looking good for the President.
"No leads anywhere, all tied. Even within the margin of error, so tight that even the political analysts can't call it."
"...This is a headache too. So, did you bring any solutions?"
"It seems... since it's an election driven by big discourses, we need one big hit at this point."
"One big hit, huh."
The President habitually picked up a baseball from the desk.
Whenever he had a headache, he'd toss it into the air like he was an outfielder and catch it.
The baseball floated lightly into the air. After bouncing it in his hand a few times, the President gave instructions to Policy Chief Park Dong-hee.
"If you can swing for a heavy tech, do it. Just make sure not to overreach and cause backlash."
"Yes, understood, Your Excellency."
"Don't hold back on means or methods. Borrow a cat's paw if you have to."
At the mention of a cat's paw, something flashed in the President's mind.
The head of Ammunition Group, whom he'd treated like buying a lottery ticket—without much expectation, but with a sliver of hope.
Clutching the baseball tightly, the President asked Policy Chief Park Dong-hee.
"But any movement from Ammunition Group? That young kid, name was... right, Han Seo-jun."
"No separate moves at the group level, but the Chairman himself is showing some unusual activity."
"Han Seo-jun personally? By himself?"
Half skeptical, half vaguely hopeful, the President's eyes sparkled.
A single sheet of paper was handed to him right away. What caught his eye was a poster for an external event more suited for college students.
"Han-ASEAN College Student Camp? And Han Seo-jun's participating in this?"
"He sponsored an agency under the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Trade to get in as an extra spot. If it's inconvenient, we could... block it."
A snort burst out immediately.
The President didn't even bother hiding the smirk on his face.
For someone who'd held a blade to his throat not long ago, it was too absurd and simplistic.
"I'm speechless."
"Then I'll instruct the relevant ministry to halt it right away. Send an official document to the Foreign Ministry...."
Policy Chief Park Dong-hee steered the conversation back to Ammunition Group, eager to escape this uncomfortable space.
He bowed at a right angle and scurried toward the door on quick steps when the President's voice reached his ear.
"No, just let it be."
"Your Excellency...?"
"I don't know what wild idea he's got, but bring results and that's it. If he delivers as promised before, I'll keep my word."
Cheolhwa Group's defense division, now dismantled and in court receivership.
It would certainly be wings for Ammunition Group... but also shackles in a way.
The government support the President had promised—interest reductions, massive deregulation, tax benefits.
If it all fell through, Ammunition Group would surely choke on its suddenly bloated size.
"If it's childish playtime, let him pay the price himself. Keep watching and report as needed."
"Yes. Understood, Your Excellency."
* * * *
The camp venue was closer to the head office than I'd thought.
A short walk down from Gwanghwamun Square, the starting point of Cheonggyecheon, brought you to Deoksugung Palace.
Strolling mindlessly along the serene stone wall path lined with cherry blossoms welcoming you, a signboard hung right nearby.
-Foreign Trade and Commerce Ministry affiliate, International College Student Exchange Association.
"Let me see. Name, student Han Won-cheol?"
"Han Won-cheol...? Ah, yes. That's me."
"What? A young guy forgetting his own name."
The moment I heard "Han Won-cheol," absurdity boiled up from deep in my dantian.
I'd dumped all the camp logistics on Uncle Kim Won-cheol without checking, and he'd apparently put my real name as a joke.
"Han Won-cheol, Han Won-cheol. Ah, same Han family? Makes sense. You kinda look like that Ammunition Group Chairman Han Seo-jun. Blood doesn't lie, huh."
A low-level staffer adjusted his thick glasses on his nose bridge with a finger.
He scanned me up and down—me, who'd rolled in the day before the camp started—and opened his mouth.
"Man, kid from a good family like you, why come to a hassle like this?"
"Well, that's how it turned out. Please take care of me during the event."
"Just don't cause trouble. With Ammunition Group's sponsorship, we'll handle most requests. Anyway, go to the end of the hallway, right side."
"Got it."
Then a perfectly perfunctory event program in the auditorium.
Right away, something like an inspirational speech from the parachute chairman, a stern ex-diplomat.
"Uh, so all of you must march with the globalization era, treating the global village as one family, with that mindset for the event...."
A human sleeping pill no one was listening to.
So I let the drowsy speech flow past my ears and closed my eyes right away.
Southeast Asia.
I'd definitely crossed paths once. Deep down in some bottom layer.
"...Ah, right. Back in that prison."
A fragment of memory suddenly surfaced in the pitch-black darkness.
A chuckle escaped me unbidden. Recalling the past before regression, I muttered to myself softly.
"Come to think of it, that funny Thai guy back then... said he was ex-military, right?"
* * * *
The prison held every type of human imaginable.
From chaebol heirs like me, shouldering all the blame alone, to the darkest shadows of society, organized thugs.
Foreigners popped up now and then, so what more to say.
'Ongbak! You ditzy bastard! What'd I tell you about after using the john? Forgot again?'
Probably around year three of my sentence.
A Thai man suddenly appeared before me in a prison jumpsuit.
Dopey face, poofy curly hair.
Called "Ongbak" more than his long, complicated real Thai name—evoking Muay Thai movies.
'You rotten punk! Did I say flush after shitting or not? You're doing it on purpose, ain't ya?'
Ex-military, he adapted quick to group life.
Despite beatings from the gangster boss, Ongbak always kept his goofy charm and fired back.
'Name ain't Ongbak. And I shit and flushed. Boss with the big head is wrong on both.'
'Ha! Today I gotta give you a real beating. Hey, grab a bat! Gonna break someone today.'
That's how Ongbak gave me daily petty laughs. Definitely had comedian vibes.
Weekly snack-sharing circle time in the cell. Ongbak would spin his past tales in his signature broken Korean, and they were pretty entertaining.
'So, coup in Thailand two years back. I grabbed the PM with these hands and handed to the boss. That's when I got this scar.'
'Ongbak you liar, mouth opens and bullshit pours out. Idiot! That was from our job last time!'
'Hurt on top of hurt. Real men do that. Boss is a girlie.'
'Where's this punk's mouth? Gonna sew it shut!'
Even under the boss's frying-pan-sized knuckle-raps, Ongbak kept yapping.
Having dug deep enough into memory, I snapped my eyes open like I'd gained enlightenment.
"Military coup. Thailand."
Memories growing more tangible on my skin.
Back then, I was in year three... and Ongbak said his coup was two years prior, so the event timing.
"This year, around summer-ish."
That instant, gears clicked and whirred in my head with a ticking sound.
Thailand's military coup looming close. And the gains I needed from the ASEAN conference.
The name "Han Won-cheol" on my badge irked me, but coming here today felt right.
"Hold up. Not the time. Foreign participant list...."
A crumpled white paper fresh from my pocket.
Tiny print listing foreign participants' info.
Scanning toward the end, alphabetized descending by country, one name jumped out.
-Thailand, Minni Yingtak (21)
Minni Yingtak.
The 21-year-old college student was... the daughter of Thailand's PM, who would die in this summer's coup.
"...Didn't even know the big fish was right in front of me."
Tap tap. My dazed wits snapped back at the mic's metallic screech.
The low-level staffer who'd chatted with me earlier took the mic from the chairman and stepped to the podium.
He adjusted his glasses and spoke right up.
"Ah, ah. Participants, we'll pair partners soon. One Korean and one foreigner per pair."
Pairs to tour Seoul together. Perfect setup to extract info up close, no interference.
"So, since the chairman's speech bored you, hit the restrooms and we'll meet back in 10 minutes."