Chapter 123
Chapter 123
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 123
Chapter Title: Drinking Game (1)
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“I’m pulling out. Completely.”
After the video call with President Michelle ended, I looked at Uncle Kim Won-cheol and Aide Yoo Se-na’s faces and calmly spoke up.
“Not leaving behind a single machine part or even a single screw. We’re thoroughly exiting the Chinese market.”
“Hmm….”
My decision might seem abrupt at first glance, but Uncle Kim Won-cheol—uncharacteristically—took a long moment to mull it over.
The semiconductor sales from the Chinese market had been growing bigger every year, so it was understandable.
“It’s a shame… Even if it’s just a little, you’re really saying we’re yanking out everything we invested in since the old chairman’s days?”
“If you don’t unclench your fist holding the snack, you can’t pull your hand out of the bottle’s neck.”
The snack called the Chinese semiconductor market.
That sticky treat, coated in honey, would be hard for anyone to resist if they tried to hold back their greed.
But… we had to look at the long game. If we were going to clash anyway—and considering the international semiconductor war that would erupt in the next ten years or so—it’d be wiser to cut ties right here.
I wiped the Chinese honey and snack crumbs off my fingers and slowly voiced my resolution.
“Kral Canal. If we want the goose that lays golden eggs in the future, we can easily let go of some cheap Chinese snacks.”
“China sure knows how to tempt with money… Tsk, no helping it.”
“This isn’t the time to dwell on regrets. Let’s discuss what’s needed for a full withdrawal first.”
Maybe because I was so firm, Uncle Kim Won-cheol didn’t raise any more objections.
He just lightly scratched the back of his head with his finger and rattled off the info stacked up in his mind.
“The land should be fine. It’s state-owned by those jjajangmyeon folks anyway. The buildings will take a hit, but the real issue… is the machinery.”
Semiconductor machinery.
Though the factories in China didn’t have the core tech needed for design, we’d brought in a ton of precision equipment for the final processing stages.
No doubt… [Shanghai Capital]—no, the Chinese government lurking behind, pretending to play it cool—would have their eyes on that precision gear.
“No matter how I think about it, those jjajangmyeon bastards won’t let it export quietly.”
“They’d be saints if they didn’t use some port inspection excuse to rip it apart.”
“They’ll chew it, tear it, and savor the tech. Anyway, the key is how to get it out.”
Normal export was impossible. Pressure from the central government had already hit the Fuzhou public security side.
Tap, tap. I flicked my fingers a few times on the edge of the table as I kept thinking.
“Hmm.”
“Chairman….”
Aide Yoo Se-na gazed at me with her big, doe-like eyes.
Come to think of it, she always seemed to get tangled up in the rough stuff.
Aide Yoo Se-na, who’d walked that hazy line between legal and illegal right beside me in her high heels. As our eyes met, a small bolt of lightning flashed in my mind.
Something that smelled a bit illegal, but packed with the imagination to break through this deadlock—a million-volt strike.
“There’s a way to export it to Korea. But I’ll need Aide Yoo Se-na’s help.”
“Me… you mean, Chairman?”
“It’ll probably end up like some risky special op. We need a veteran for this.”
Her pupils shook like an earthquake had hit, unable to hide it.
Seeing that, Uncle Kim Won-cheol couldn’t just sit still. His signature snarky voice charged straight at my eardrums.
“Oh! Rabbit gambling woman, out on a mission after ages?”
Of course, his cocky jab got blocked by the laser beam shooting from Aide Yoo Se-na’s eyes.
“Ahem. No, last time I saw that rabbit mask, it looked all fluffy and warm. I’m jealous, that’s all. Jealous.”
“Seriously… Secretary Kim, keep that up and I won’t hold back.”
“Hey, is it wrong? Every time our Chairman says stuff like this, some massive incident blows up. Right?”
Uncle Kim Won-cheol shot me a teary-eyed glance.
I had no intention of throwing him a lifeline in that moment… but honestly, he wasn’t wrong.
Because this time, it really was shaping up to be a massive incident on par with what we’d pulled before.
I cleared my throat with a fake cough and turned to Aide Yoo Se-na as I spoke.
“Well, you’re right this time.”
“Chairman…?”
“But it’s not like last time, dragging you to some underground casino, so relax. We’re going classy this time.”
A classy solution. It starts with knowing your opponent inside out.
China’s local administrations are a mess.
No matter how much influence [Shanghai Capital] had over the Fuzhou local government, it’d just be them toeing the line under central pressure for now.
So… poking a sloppy hole in what looks like a massive dam would be simple.
“Chairman, what’s the solution?”
Aide Yoo Se-na’s eyes sparkled with anticipation. Sorry, but punching that hole in the dam would probably mean she’d have to do it with me.
I deliberately filled my gaze with trust and tossed her a cryptic question.
“I hear you’re pretty good with liquor.”
“I’m not terrible….”
She was too modest. From what I knew, everyone in this room could down at least five bottles of soju as a baseline.
And that included Aide Yoo Se-na.
“They say Fuzhou’s big shots love their booze. So let’s get ‘em blackout drunk.”
“Huh?”
“We’ll pretend to woo the head of the Fuzhou local government with a deception op. That very day.”
A local government just playing cautious for now would bite at the tempting bait we dangled.
Drunk on the mirage of bribes and booze they could never pin down.
“While they’re passed out stuffed with drinks, the precision semiconductor gear—down to the last screw—will be loaded onto a smuggling train bound for Hong Kong.”
* * * *
Blue House residence.
The president usually started his day with the chilly dawn air settling in.
But today, for some reason, he rubbed his temples and didn’t rise until the sun was high in the sky, letting out a groan that was almost a whimper.
“Your Excellency, Your Excellency? Mr. President?”
“Ugh. Yeah, Chief Secretary Park. What time is it already…? Sigh, you must’ve waited ages.”
The president rubbed his eyes as he glanced at the large grandfather clock against one wall.
Hungover as he was, he still looked oddly cheerful. Policy Chief Secretary Park Dong-hee cautiously asked the man, who let out a strange chuckle.
“No, Your Excellency. I just got here. How’s… your condition? Feeling any better?”
“Hmm, guess I’m getting old too. Overdo the drinks just a bit, and my head feels like it’ll split. But.”
The president gulped down a glass of cold water on an empty stomach. Recalling last night’s events at the Jongno safe house, he stretched long and wide.
“It’s been ages since I had a night that fun—even blackout drunk.”
“Chairman Han Seo-jun… you mean?”
Rising from his seat, the president blankly stared at the folded wooden Janggi board by the bedside.
He picked up one ivory Janggi piece with his fingers and spoke.
“Well, now I just sit back and watch how that young guy moves.”
True to his nickname “human bidet” around the Blue House, Policy Chief Secretary Park Dong-hee never missed a chance to show loyalty.
Thinking he’d grasped his boss’s intent, he replied in a bold tone.
“Then, should I issue separate cooperation orders to the NIS?”
“No, no. Don’t do that.”
“Pardon?”
Clack. The Janggi piece on the table. The Chu piece, inlaid with green emerald engraving, gleamed softly under the lamp light.
As if urging it to move on its own across the board, eager to show what it could do.
“Just watch and wait. There’s fun in seeing what moves that guy Han Seo-jun makes.”
* * *
Bag merchants shuttling the nose-touching distance from Guangdong Province, China, to Hong Kong.
These smuggling experts had lately caught wind of a weird rumor circulating these past few days.
“Damn, this gig won’t last forever. The kids at home are already whining for food, and the pay’s peanuts.”
A rundown eatery.
Under a leaky ceiling dripping rain onto the tables, the bag merchants filled their stomachs with meager meals.
“Hey, you know what I heard from our area boss? Something big in Fuzhou.”
The usual gripes about their grueling lives.
But as one tossed out the bait, the bag merchants’ chatter swiftly shifted—to the big score in Fuzhou.
“I heard too. Some white foreign client’s rounding up hundreds of bag merchants or whatever.”
“Hmm, isn’t that risky? Word is the pay’s high per job, but since we don’t know what’s inside, I’m iffy….”
A Fuzhou job not leaked a peep outside, circulating only among them.
No clue what they’d be hauling, but at ten times the usual rate, no one could resist.
“Staying put means starving anyway.”
Hard bread, watery soup without a scrap of meat. The bag merchant, sweat dripping down, set his chopsticks on the table and stood.
“I’m in. Jobs have been drying up lately—fingers getting raw from sucking ‘em. Perfect timing. You?”
“Me too… gotta feed the kids first. Ten times the pay. Guess I’ll go, even if it’s far.”
The bag merchants steeled their resolve before that tenfold pay. As if he’d heard it all along, a man silently approached from the dark alley.
“Volunteers?”
Standing before the shabby joint, he pointed a thumb outward at the bag merchants and said,
“Ten minutes. Stuff your faces. We’re leaving right after.”
“Y-Yes… yes! Got it! Just wait a sec!”
The bag merchants hurriedly shoveled food into their mouths.
Leaving them behind, the mystery man boarded the vehicle outside and pulled out a phone from his pocket. To report up the chain.
“Yes, President. We’re getting about forty more heads here today.”
The man spoke awkward French laced with a Chinese accent.
When the white guy on the other end asked something urgently, he replied right away.
“No worries. These bag merchants don’t even have户口—cops can’t track ‘em for shit.”