Chapter 113
Chapter 113
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 113
Chapter Title: Connecting the Pacific and Indian Oceans (1)
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An unfamiliar ceiling.
Not just some cliché line from a third-rate novel.
I literally opened my eyes to find a strange ceiling right in front of me. It had a fairly luxurious hospital-style interior.
“Chairman! Chairman, are you okay? Say something, anything!”
“Urk…!”
And suddenly, my breath was being squeezed off.
It wasn’t from bomb shrapnel damaging my lungs or heart.
It was Aide Yoo Se-na gripping my carotid artery near my neck and shaking me back and forth in a wave of emotion.
I’d heard she’d taken up sport climbing as a hobby lately, but the callused strength in her hands was even fiercer than I’d imagined.
“First… first, let go of this and talk. I need to breathe, too. Cough! Cough!”
After barely fending off the threat to my life, I slowly lowered my head to look down at my body.
Let’s see.
Two arms, two legs, all twenty fingers and toes intact without a single one missing. No surgical scars on my abdomen or waist, either.
Even if the blast was from far away, getting caught in a bomb explosion and coming out with my limbs whole? Sure, there were some minor scrapes, but this alone was nothing short of a miracle.
“Seems like no major issues overall… Could you hand me a mirror, just in case?”
However, the mirror reflected me with white bandages wrapped around my head, stained with blood.
The kind that would make anyone seeing it think I looked… pretty badly injured.
“What happened to me?”
“The doctor said… you took a blow to the head during the explosion.”
The medical staff’s assessment showed no issues even on precise CT or MRI scans.
It seemed I’d only briefly lost consciousness from the blast’s shockwave.
‘The real problem is Prime Minister Ing Tak.’
The prime minister who’d just survived an unprecedented suicide bombing.
Even though he hadn’t been killed or injured, if his emotions led to some unexpected mess, that would be a headache in its own right.
‘If he tries a massive purge of the entire military for no reason, the canal project itself could grind to a halt.’
Was my pondering over responses to various future scenarios worrying her?
Aide Yoo Se-na leaned toward me, her eyes glistening.
“Chairman…? You’re really okay, right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. No issues on the exams, so I can just check out. I’ve got things to do first.”
“No! Your body’s not even fully recovered yet—what do you mean, things to do…!”
Her already round eyes grew even wider, like a fawn’s.
Ignoring her protests, I quickly shed the patient gown and faced the full-length mirror in the corner of the room, buttoning my shirt from the bottom up.
My anxious fingers fumbled with the tiny buttons, which refused to cooperate.
As I fastened the last top button with slightly swollen fingers, I issued orders to Aide Yoo Se-na, whose panicked expression stared back from the mirror.
“Whew… First, we need to assess the situation quickly. Aide Yoo Se-na, contact Prime Minister Ing Tak’s side right now. Tell them we want to set up a meeting as soon as possible…”
“No need for that. Chairman Han Seo-jun.”
“……!”
A dull male voice came from outside the mirror’s reflection.
It was unmistakably Prime Minister Ing Tak’s, laced with a heavy Thai accent in English.
Startled by the unexpected turn, I whipped my head around. There, at the outer door, stood Prime Minister Ing Tak alone—without even his entourage—holding a fruit basket.
“Prime Minister? How did you…?”
“I’ve been here at the Thai Royal Hospital ever since the bombing.”
Like a sleeping princess in the woods, I’d been out for a full day and a half.
The head of a nation had put off critical post-coup cleanup to wait for me to wake up.
Prime Minister Ing Tak smiled softly at me.
I’d orchestrated this to make him owe me big, but… the effect seemed stronger than expected.
“How could I leave behind someone who’s gone beyond a political ally to become my lifesaver?”
He stepped closer, one foot at a time, then gripped my hand tightly. That grasp carried emotions far more intense than usual.
No flowery words needed—the vibe alone let me read his heart.
This guy… he’s one to keep favors and grudges straight. Especially when it goes beyond mere business.
“So now… shall we talk privately? We can finish our unfinished business from before, plus settle the debt I owe you, Chairman Han.”
* * * *
‘Show more sincerity. Even greater sincerity.’
The voice of the political old fox echoed in James Wang’s ears like an auditory hallucination.
The Beijing heavyweight, mentor to the new power holders, made no secret of it—rubbing his thumb and forefinger in a circle.
As if ready to suck up every greed in the world.
“The elder… No, that madman wants more than just money.”
Birds and rats that eavesdropped on day and night whispers. The moment they left their Beijing den for Shanghai, Yan Long started voicing his honest thoughts.
“The core demand is for the Shanghai faction—your lord’s group—to openly submit to the new Beijing power, right?”
“I know that.”
The two stepped out of the car into a skyscraper in Shanghai’s Pudong District.
Riding the glass elevator up, James Wang gazed at the sparkling Yangtze River nightscape.
“Their prestige must be upheld, and vast wealth offered alongside.”
Their filthy hands, caked with the mud from the shining pearl their faction had built.
The vat of greed at China’s central politics. Unless filled to the brim, that leaky poison jar would soon claim that beautiful pearl.
James Wang pressed his palm to the glass, clenching as if to seize the view outside.
“The Beijing pigs demand plenty. We have to fill their bellies and their vanity.”
“…You speak truly, my lord.”
Yan Long sidelong-glanced his master’s reflection in the glass. James Wang’s face twisted with anger and defeat, like tangled threads.
The deep furrow on his usually emotionless forehead made it all the more striking.
“I won’t feed this beautiful Shanghai to the pigs. And if we must forage feed from outside…”
The wave of anger and defeat, unable to surmount Beijing’s mountain, now flowed toward an open breach.
James Wang strode into the inner office. As always, he habitually lay on the sofa, stretching his hand toward the ceiling.
A carved wooden map of East Asia. Toward the two peninsulas jutting east and south from the continent.
“Ammunition Group. And the Kra Canal. That should suffice as sacrifices to toss to Beijing. Plus, punishment for that Han Seo-jun bastard.”
“I’ll mobilize the Thai Chinese network. They surely have enough pull to interfere in central politics…”
Yan Long laid out a long-term high-ground strategy in his mind.
His lord had always accepted such proposals almost wholesale. So he’d offered this solution confidently.
But.
“That won’t be enough.”
“What do you mean…?”
“Approach more aggressively—something noisy is fine. For example.”
Tap, tap. James Wang drummed his fingers on the ivory armrest.
His gaze flashed south on the map, and as if struck by an idea, he spoke.
“There are those Islamic separatist warlords in southern Thailand, aren’t there?”
“My lord, those guys…!”
Yan Long’s eyes widened in shock at the unforeseen words.
Ignoring his reaction entirely, James Wang pressed on calmly.
“Set up a meeting with their leader. No objections allowed.”
* * * *
Back in Korea.
The flight was delayed, so I didn’t head straight to the office upon arrival.
I didn’t mind working late, but… with Aide Yoo Se-na stuck to my side, she insisted on rest.
‘Sigh, Chairman. It’s been less than twelve hours since discharge. Like the doctor said, rest at least until tomorrow. Please.’
Of course, letting such words go in one ear and out the other is human nature.
My officetel nearby—the love nest and temporary lodging.
Punching in the eight-digit code, I entered to find someone waiting, reeking of booze.
The guy waving happily after just a few days apart.
“Oh, Bomb Man.”
“Why am I Bomb Man? If it was the victim nearly killed by the Thai bomber, maybe.”
“From now on, bomb shots make you Bomb Man. Heh heh heh, couldn’t drink with Aide Yoo Se-na around.”
Uncle Kim Won-cheol shoved a big cup of mixed whiskey and beer in front of me without asking.
I downed the drink I accepted, wiped my mouth with my shirtsleeve, and spoke.
“Kuh, hits the spot. Gotta follow doctor’s orders, but life doesn’t work that way.”
“Good boys have no fun in life. Anyway, things go well with that Prime Minister Ing Tak guy?”
“As you can see. Not bad compensation for the trouble.”
I pointed at the bandage on my head and chuckled.
The gains from this injury were pretty substantial.
Feeling chilly from the AC, I took another drink before continuing.
“Prime Minister Ing Tak said he wasn’t really serious about the Kra Canal project. Just a temporary measure to control the military.”
“Sounds like our Blue House bigwig’s view. He told you the same—don’t sweat the Kra Canal.”
The Kra Canal, linking the Pacific and Indian Oceans.
The Kra Canal, promising huge economic benefits and massive cargo volume. It always stalled at the paperwork stage for good reason.
Thailand’s south narrows sharply. The moment a 100km canal cuts through…
“Southern Thailand’s separatists. The canal would geographically sever those warlord groups from the center.”
“Exactly. That’s why I was iffy… but looks like you sorted it.”
“Sorted it pretty well.”
I nodded, face flushed with a slight buzz.
Loosening my tie against the stuffiness, I chugged ice water and continued.
“Prime Minister Ing Tak’s side offered major concessions. To the point where…”