Chapter 105
Chapter 105
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 105
Chapter Title: Something to Divert the Military's Gaze (2)
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Bangkok, the city more beautiful at night than by day.
A rooftop bar in a high-rise building overlooking the neon signs of the red-light district.
A group of men, drunk and gazing down from the highest spot. They all sported the short haircuts typical of officers.
“Hey, tell the girls to wait outside for a bit.”
A curt order cut through the jovial atmosphere.
Without a hint of objection to their leader’s sudden command, the men ushered the women by their sides out of the rooftop.
The mood shifted instantly.
The hazy mix of alcohol and lust was replaced by the disciplined solemnity unique to the military hardliners.
“Commander Pai has given the go-ahead for the uprising. It was decided at the roundtable meeting not long ago.”
“Is that true? Finally…!”
The military hardliners lit up like a dry field set ablaze.
Their leader, wearing a satisfied expression while struggling to maintain his stern demeanor, continued his own grand epic.
“Quiet! It’s not finalized yet. Negotiations with the prime minister come first.”
Negotiations.
The control over state-owned enterprises tied to resource development in Thailand, now in the military’s grasp.
A conglomerate of state firms spanning mines to large-scale agriculture. This greedy entity sucking the blood of the Thai economy must surely appear as a target for reform in Prime Minister Ing Tak’s eyes.
“Aah….”
A touch of disappointment on his subordinates’ faces.
The leader let out a small chuckle, then picked an apple from the fruit basket on the table.
“It’s too early to be disappointed.”
“General?”
Veins bulging on the back of his hand like they were about to burst.
His grip grew as immense as his vast ambitions. The red apple, crushed bit by bit under the military’s power, finally burst with a crunch under the unbearable pressure.
“That idealist prime minister has never once put forward a proper negotiation proposal! In the end, the military has no choice but to rise up. Isn’t that right!”
“You’re absolutely right, General!”
A growl accompanied the sweet fruit juice dripping down below his wrist. Cheers erupted from the men.
The military hardliners had no intention of giving up or yielding. Eyes bloodshot from the addictive fruit juice flowing from the state enterprises.
Without anyone leading, they raised their glasses high and began chanting toasts laced with desire.
“Thailand! This country belongs to our military!”
“The military is the government, and the government is the military! To the unparalleled glory of the revolutionary forces!”
The hardliners shouted until their throats were raw. Perhaps they weren’t satisfied with just the fruit juice.
Their boiling blood overflowed the iron pot. Their violent blood droplets, bubbling over, had already crossed the line, possessed by some madness, craving more.
Uncontrollable power. And the wealth and honor that followed generation after generation.
Bangkok’s night, more beautiful than day.
Their party reached its climax with the military hardliner leader’s final toast.
“A Thailand obedient under military boots! And to you who rightfully reign above it!”
* * * *
From Gyeongbok Palace to City Hall, through Sungnyemun Gate, and on to Seoul Station along Sejong-daero.
An operation massive enough to seal off the entire wide road. A black car, escorted amid blaring sirens, glided smoothly through.
“This has gotten complicated.”
The president, arm resting on the thick steel door frame, stared at his reflection in the deep tint.
Forehead wrinkles deepened by anguish. Without turning his head, he addressed Park Dong-hee, the Blue House policy chief seated beside him.
“Hey, Im-ja. The support ratings for this by-election—are they still stagnant?”
“Yes, Mr. President. Just as I reported before, it’s a razor-thin situation holding steady.”
“Tch… The economy’s in such a mess, that must be why this is happening. This’ll definitely hurt next year’s local elections too.”
Elected power grows by devouring the red meat of support ratings.
A leader who fails at the herd hunt of votes loses the right to lead the tribe and is eventually dragged from the throne.
The president, who had etched this natural law into his bones decades ago, thus found even this crucial diplomatic trip to the ASEAN summit displeasing.
“Those Southeast Asians aren’t the type to boost our prestige anyway.”
“Indeed… Without some major catch, a sharp rebound in ratings from this seems unlikely.”
The car jolted slightly—perhaps a dip in the road near Seoul Station.
The shock wasn’t limited to the vehicle. Park Dong-hee’s pupils dilated at the president’s next words.
“Well, I wonder if I made a mistake weeding out Yun Hak-gil.”
“Yun Hak-gil… you mean?”
“Yeah. That guy had a knack for reading elections like no one else. I’m especially regretting it today.”
“……!”
A strange silence filled the car.
The driver, sensing the chill, quickly averted his eyes from the rearview mirror and stared straight ahead.
Park Dong-hee’s suit knees damp with sweat from his palms.
And inner turmoil creeping in like a thief at the leader’s words signaling the silence’s return.
‘This is driving me mad… If things turn out like this, my position pushing to oust Yun Hak-gil becomes shaky.’
Park Dong-hee moistened his dry lips with his tongue.
His sluggish mind groped for the right words.
But his superior seemed unwilling to grant even that fleeting moment. The president expanded the unpleasant situation like a branching tree.
“Come to think of it, Ammunition Group. That bloodthirsty chairman who led the charge against Yun Hak-gil. No notable moves since the college student camp, right?”
“Excluding his preemptive involvement a few hours before today’s meeting… no particular irregularities.”
“Ha, really? It’s ridiculous. A guy of that caliber put a knife to my throat?”
The president muttered it casually, as if meant to be overheard, devoid of any anger.
His gaze, reflected in the window, had shifted slightly left from before, now fixed on Park Dong-hee’s expression.
‘This… is my chance! Then I won’t have to take the fall for His Excellency’s anger.’
Unaware of his master’s intent, Park Dong-hee reached for what looked like a lifeline.
Like a parched man gulping from an unknown spring, he swiftly redirected the incoming shrapnel toward another.
“Indeed… Chairman Han Seo-jun, that young man’s single stone seems to be stirring up multiple headaches. Perhaps a stern warning is in order?”
“Huh, you think so too, Im-ja?”
“Of course, Your Excellency. For him to clumsily meddle in the election landscape for his own gain… We can’t just let it slide.”
“Right. So that’s what Policy Chief Park thinks.”
Did he take his subordinate’s words as the starting gun?
The president, who had been staring out the window, turned forward. A satisfied, if卑劣 smile played on his face.
“Then, right after the election, put your name on a hard-hitting special probe into Ammunition Group. Dig into the succession and tax evasion—everything.”
“Your Excellency…?”
“You need a lightning rod. We have to shift public opinion before the buck stops with the president. Get it ready, not too late.”
Just then, the National Assembly building in Yeouido came into view outside. The president hadn’t forgotten the arts of political infighting in the mud pit of politics.
‘You raccoon-like bastard… This is what you were aiming for from the start. My well-being was never a concern.’
He tried to soothe his boiling guts with a sigh, but it was too late.
Suddenly saddled with a hot potato he couldn’t toss away, Park Dong-hee hid any displeasure and accepted the order.
“…Yes, Your Excellency. I’ll handle it from script to execution, without a single leak!”
“Good. Take care of it, then.”
The president’s car crossed the Han River Bridge and soon entered Yeouido.
Moments later, the K Hotel in Yeouido appeared.
Gazing at the building’s colorful glass panels evoking a freshly bloomed flower, the president spoke.
“It’s a shame the young sprout will taste some bitterness, but what can you do? It’s his fault for overreaching.”
“Wise words indeed, Mr. President. Chairman Han Seo-jun will learn through the process as well.”
“Yeah. Time to get out. No, wait—one second…”
The president stopped the driver from opening the door to step out.
His eyes caught the scene at the hotel’s main entrance—something utterly unimaginable.
Prime Minister Ing Tak of Thailand, beaming as he gripped and shook the hand of a young Korean man.
“Prime Minister Ing Tak? Why him? Coming out front to make this kind of display…?”
Prime Minister Ing Tak, notorious for his strictness.
He was famous for not even meeting chairmen of major Japanese conglomerates deeply embedded in Thailand’s economy.
Undeterred by the camera flashes from surrounding reporters.
The president’s sudden suspicion cleared when, beyond the crowd like clouds, he spotted the face of Ammunition Group’s owner, Han Seo-jun.
“Chairman Han Seo-jun?”
A gut instinct raced up his spine to the top of his head.
Without any basis for judgment, the president knew: the meticulously crafted political equation he’d just built had turned to worthless foam in an instant.
“Hey, policy chief!”
“Yes, Mr. President! I’ll investigate and report back immediately!”
A new equation adjusted for the new variable. The president began plugging political moves into the unknowns one by one.
“Han Seo-jun, Han Seo-jun… If he’s on that level with Prime Minister Ing Tak, he must have some big issue up his sleeve.”
A quick report came in from Blue House staff on site.
The car deliberately bypassed the planned spot and circled to the parking lot.
Gazing at the receding scene of new possibilities, the president muttered to himself, now half-convinced of his instinct.
“That Han Seo-jun… He might be a giant tree beyond what I imagined.”