Chapter 132
Chapter 132
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 132
Chapter Title: What Happened in Serto (3)
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“Then, we’ll take custody of this girl here.”
“Please take good care of her. Well then.”
The UN Human Rights Commission High Commissioner receiving the Uyghur girl from the president of Ammunition Electronics Michelle.
She boarded the plane, but the Uyghur girl still couldn’t relax her stiff expression due to lingering anxiety and tension. The High Commissioner handed her a lollipop, trying to ease the rigid atmosphere.
“Everything will work out fine, so don’t worry.”
“Really… is it okay for me to testify there?”
“I guarantee it. On behalf of the UN.”
A young girl who looked like she’d just started high school.
The High Commissioner gazed at her with pity. Especially after seeing ‘that video’ handed over along with her by the Michelle president.
‘What on earth happened in Serto.’
Though he maintained a calm exterior, inside, the High Commissioner was outraged by this brutal incident.
He stared at the girl who had finally dozed off and muttered something.
One man who had orchestrated this round from design to resolution. Believing it right to play along with his scenario.
“Even though the full context is crystal clear… this time, we have to cooperate unconditionally. With that man named Han Seo-jun.”
* * * *
“No way! Take me to America too. I wanna go eat real American burgers, please!”
The desperate pleas of Uncle Kim Won-cheol echoing through the departure gate at Incheon International Airport.
His bald head, gleaming under the airport lights, seemed especially shiny today.
I pulled out sunglasses from my suit pocket—the aviators I’d prepared just for this moment—put them on, and flashed a bright smile as I exited the gate with Aide Yoo Se-na.
Turning back with a radiant smile.
“Then, I’ll be off. Enjoy some quality time at the Pyeongchang-dong house with Grandmother.”
“Ah, come on. Chairman! How could you do this to me?”
No matter how much he vented his grievances, it was already too late.
Someone else present here had swiftly quashed his jolly little rebellion.
“Ow ow! Don’t pull my ear, Director!”
“Good. Let’s use this chance to fix that flippant attitude of yours, Kim Won-cheol.”
Uncle Kim Won-cheol, ears grabbed by Grandmother who had followed us to the airport, being dragged off somewhere.
While I was away in America, our poor bald uncle would be stuck at the family home all night, doing the tedious work of managing group shares.
With Ammunition Group’s Seo Taehu, Grandmother, no less.
“Tastes like roasted sesame seeds. Feels like a weight’s lifted off my chest.”
“…Feels like you did this on purpose. Because of that eight-year-old Saudi princess marriage thing.”
Aide Yoo Se-na, hitting the nail on the head from the seat beside me on the private jet. Of course, to uphold the chairman’s dignity, I neither confirmed nor denied it.
“Ahem, let’s not talk about that.”
“Yes…”
“Anyway, time’s tight, so let’s depart right away. Long way to go.”
The plane roared to life with a heavy engine hum and took off immediately.
Destination: New York City, right in the heart of Manhattan… UN Headquarters.
Gazing down at the receding Korean land, I fiddled with the newly issued passport in my hand. A blue diplomatic passport.
“Who’da thunk it. Diplomatic status out of nowhere.”
“The President must be paying close attention to you, Chairman.”
“Well, he probably wants me to go achieve something and bring back info that’ll help him too.”
Had I passed that test once before?
Like a giving tree, the President had started providing conveniences without being asked, from some point on.
That sly politician seemed to have high expectations of me now.
‘Chairman Han, you’re planning a big show at UN Headquarters, right? You’re handling the script, and Saudi’s Crown Prince Bin Salman’s directing, I hear.’
‘How did you know about that, Mr. President…?’
‘Don’t forget, National Intelligence Service agents are always with you. Day or night.’
The President’s words, profoundly chilling, paired with a hearty laugh.
This seemingly nonchalant yet warm old man had tossed me something like a notepad.
‘Anyway, thought this’d make it easier for you to run wild on the stage.’
‘This is…’
A freshly printed diplomatic passport, still warm.
‘I’ll be watching. I’ve reserved a royal seat at UN Headquarters, so make this play entertaining.’
He’d dumped a load of pressure—not quite pressure—on me and breezed off, citing a schedule.
Still stroking the crisp cover of the passport, I recalled the events from a couple days ago.
Of course… such burdens meant nothing as obstacles to this job.
“Chairman? Chairman?”
“Ah, yes. What is it?”
Aide Yoo Se-na shaking me lightly from my sea of thoughts.
“You seemed lost deep in thought.”
“Ah, yeah. So, what’s up?”
“Um… Will you finally tell me how this trip is going to go?”
Up until now, due to requests from Crown Prince Bin Salman’s side, I hadn’t shared the details with Aide Yoo Se-na.
Since it was set to become a diplomatic issue, security had to be extra tight.
But now, the time was right. I slowly answered her, eyes wide like a rabbit’s.
“First off, do you know what trolling is?”
“Trolling, like in online games where weirdos do stupid stuff just to piss people off…?”
She started explaining at length, then suddenly slapped her thigh as realization dawned.
Her next words were more intuitive than anything.
“So, you mean the face Secretary Kim Won-cheol makes when he’s messing around?”
“…Well, close enough.”
“Ugh.”
Having been on the receiving end so many times, her pupils already started shaking.
I calmed the tremor and continued the story while eating the in-flight meal that arrived.
“Simply put, we’re heading to New York—UN Headquarters—to troll.”
“Wait. So, you’re saying you’re going to troll at UN Headquarters?”
“Yeah, why not? Sounds fun, right?”
“What the…!”
I mimed tapping a keyboard like in a game.
To the baffled Aide Yoo Se-na, caught off guard, I added with an amused smile.
“Think of it like trolling in a game.”
“In a… game?”
“Yeah. Exciting trolling, committed via the avatar of the Saudi Arabian ambassador, in front of the whole world.”
* * * *
The palace in central Riyadh, capital of Saudi Arabia.
As the call to prayer faded into echoes, Crown Prince Bin Salman lifted his head from the carpet on the floor.
Brushing dust off his forehead, he immediately questioned his secretary.
“Our ambassador should’ve arrived in America by now, right?”
“Yes, Your Highness. He’s meeting Han Seo-jun first thing.”
“Good. Appointing someone who knows my intentions well makes things run smoothly.”
Not long ago, Crown Prince Bin Salman had appointed the ambassador plenipotentiary to the UN.
The annual UN General Assembly rituals. The speeches there were always predictably bland.
Just vague talk of world peace, economic prosperity—cloud-grabbing platitudes. But…
“I can’t wait to see Han Seo-jun’s script played out with some wild fake madness.”
“We even rehearsed it, Your Highness. The ambassador will perform splendidly, no worries.”
This UN General Assembly would be markedly different from usual. Crown Prince Bin Salman thought as he stroked the head of the pet cheetah at his feet.
This explosion would surely shake the entire Islamic world uncontrollably, then fade into the distance.
Just like this golden cheetah, vanishing at breakneck speed after one sprint.
“Well, it’s gain enough for me to gain justification and authority in the Islamic world.”
The pet cheetah purred, rubbing its face against his leg.
He fed it a strip of dried meat and unwittingly muttered to himself.
Thinking of someone harder to tame than this beast, yet walking his own path.
“Han Seo-jun, what a character. The more I learn, the more I think marrying him to my youngest sister to make him family might be best.”
* * * *
“Achoo!”
“Chairman, you okay?”
A sudden sneeze.
It wasn’t that chilly in early autumn yet, but a chill crept up my spine and spread through my body.
Aide Yoo Se-na handing me tissues. I wiped away the eerie sensation and spoke.
“Something’s off…”
“Chairman? Catch a cold or something?”
“No, not that… Just a shiver down my spine. Like someone’s talking about me behind my back.”
Plenty of people might be, but this felt extra cold.
I shook it off by taking in the scenery unfolding before us.
New York, Manhattan. UN Headquarters standing tall across the Hudson River, adorned with fluttering international flags.
“Actually here, and I’m getting nervous. The Saudi ambassador’s already waiting, right?”
“Yes, he’s heading straight here now… Ah, there he is.”
A middle-aged Arab man stepping out of a sleek black sedan that glided to a stop.
I exchanged light introductions and shook his hand.
“Han Seo-jun.”
“Oh! First time meeting. Heard so much about you. I’m Ambassador Plenipotentiary Mohammed, by special order of His Highness the Crown Prince.”
The ambassador gripped my right hand firmly with his hairy ones.
His cheerful personality shining through, he showed no sign of letting go—in fact, gripped harder as he poured out praise.
“The script you sent… it was impressive. This’ll really dunk on the other side.”
“Just act it out well. Make the hearts of Muslims worldwide race wildly.”
“No worries. Those guys anyway…”
At that moment, his hand finally released.
Then he pointed behind me.
I turned slowly to look… and there, three people stared at us with displeased, unfriendly gazes.
One was the Malaysian ambassador. Another, the Chinese ambassador. And the last… James Wang, director of Shanghai Capital, whom I was seeing in person for the first time.
The Saudi ambassador, already knowing my ties to them, grinned mischievously and finished his thought.
“They won’t even know in their dreams what’s about to happen.”