Chapter 140
Chapter 140
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 140
Chapter Title: Those Rising from the Shadows (5)
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Something about the scheming and intrigue made even family ties in a chaebol household feel suffocating.
But maybe because this was still a place where people lived?
There were always family members who seemed utterly bland, to the point where you wondered if they even existed.
Especially Kim Beom-ho, who was all too familiar with getting roasted online as the "chaebol family's hopeless three brothers" whenever he got bored and scrolled through internet communities.
"Ah, seriously. Finally feels like I can live like a human again."
Yeouido K Hotel.
Under the glow of the lights, T Group's troublemaker Kim Beom-ho examined a flimsy plastic card from every angle.
Staring at the new credit card his father had given him, it was as if he'd just received a title deed as a freed slave—his eyes welled up with emotion.
"Ooh... Dad, I love you."
And watching him from the side, doubled over in laughter, was Ham Chae-eun, daughter of a former Minister of National Defense.
Apparently, her smudged eyeliner wasn't expressive enough.
It took a few minutes of her pounding the table with her sneaker-clad foot in some performance art before her gasping laughter finally subsided.
"Ah, seriously. Kim Beom-ho is hilarious. How does that total loser vibe just ooze out of him automatically? No acting required."
"Shut up. You know what I've been through because of that Han Seo-jun bastard... How broke I've lived without this thing."
The affair with Seo Yun-ji, the hallucinogenic drug inhalation.
After getting thoroughly thrashed with a golf club by his father, the T Group chairman, Kim Beom-ho had all his credit cards confiscated that day.
Of course, dialing back his spending habits wasn't easy.
"Running around leeching off your connections, using up everything in sight, and then playing the victim."
"Ah, can you drop that already?"
So, for what felt like years—though it was only a few months—Kim Beom-ho couldn't escape being treated like a beggar by his so-called network.
Ham Chae-eun, perched on the table, swung her sneaker-clad ankle playfully, her face twisting into an amused expression—as if she'd just remembered someone ridiculous.
"You know, come to think of it, the top-tier physical therapist for your whining was that prosecutor chick."
"Prosecutor Park Eun-ji? That psycho bitch?"
His face crumpled like a guardrail smashed by a dump truck, every feature contorted in disgust.
He brought a water pipe to his lips and muttered in a low, grudging voice.
"Fuck... Don't even mention that lunatic."
"Oh my, is our Beom-ho scared? How scared? Should I check inside your panties?"
"Ah, come on. Let's not stoop this low. If you ever deal with Park Eun-ji, you'll get the vibe right away."
Prosecutor Park Eun-ji, the unhinged one.
Even though he was clearly from chaebol royalty, she investigated without a shred of intimidation or deference.
Stuff like boiling water in front of CCTV to steam up the lens, then exercising a bit more "advanced" public authority in the blurry footage.
"That bitch... was born to be a prosecutor. The kind that crushes bottom-feeders from the gutter."
"Wow, singing the Park Eun-ji anthem now."
Ham Chae-eun's hair had grown quite long by now. Twirling a curly strand of brown around her finger, she seemed to have an idea pop into her head.
Half playful, half intrigued, she tossed out the topic.
"And it's not like Park Eun-ji's the only top-tier one. There's that one-shot tutor who schools Kim Beom-ho: Teacher Han Seo-jun."
"I was wondering when you'd bring that up."
-Ding!
Just as a torrent of curses was about to spill from Kim Beom-ho's mouth, an odd alarm blared from his phone—not a call or text.
He yanked out his phone in a frenzy and dove right in.
"Hey, Kim Beom-ho. What're you doing?"
"Hold on. Big payout's about to drop—right now."
"Payout? You don't even own a single T Group share."
Kim Beom-ho now had zero group stock, just cash and real estate.
So the "payout" he mentioned wasn't dividends—it was gambling odds from private betting rings.
"Ahhh... Damn it. Should've gone against the spread! Why do I always play it safe in life!"
"What bullshit. That's illegal private toto betting, right?"
Ham Chae-eun poked his back with the toe of her sneaker as he flung his phone onto the sofa and sulked.
They say there's always a higher power.
She thought she was the most immature person in all eight provinces of Joseon, but here was someone topping that—right in front of her.
"Grow up, man. You're over thirty. Whatever—answer your damn phone."
"Ah, screw it. Thirty million won just flew away. What 'grow up'?"
"If you'd given that to me, I could've hooked you up with some cute girls... Huh? Hey, hold on."
As the ringing from Kim Beom-ho's phone died down, a vibration buzzed from Ham Chae-eun's thigh.
She pulled her glitzy phone from her wrinkled skirt pocket and answered with a mischievous grin.
"Hey, babe. What's up?"
"Babe...? Ham Chae-eun, you got a boyfriend now?"
Ignoring the question with breezy dismissal, she glanced at Kim Beom-ho and continued.
"Yeah, he's right here. Pouting on the floor 'cause he lost thirty mil on private toto."
"Ah, that little...!"
"Yeah. Putting him on now."
She slashed her hand across her throat at him—'You're dead. Hehehe'—mouthing silently.
Kim Beom-ho shook his head vigorously and took the phone.
"What is this... Hello? Me and your girlfriend? We're nothing, so don't get the wrong idea..."
A familiar voice slammed into Kim Beom-ho's ear like a thunderbolt.
Eyes fixed on the giggling Ham Chae-eun, he broke into a cold sweat but barely managed to choke out the name.
"Han Seo-jun... Chairman?"
And then came the flood of excuses.
"N-No... It's not like that. Ham Chae-eun's just messing around. Toto? That's illegal—I'd never."
"Kim Beom-ho opens his mouth and lies just pour out. He was just regretting not betting against the spread with me."
Ham Chae-eun's face lit up with glee. But even she hadn't expected this twist.
Kim Beom-ho answered the voice on the line, and her expression soured like a rotting tire as she overheard the reply.
"Prosecutor Park Eun-ji...? You want an intro to her? Man, your tastes are wild. Why?"
* * *
"No need for details on that. Just set up a meeting. Make it natural."
Kim Beom-ho rattled on with unnecessary chatter. I didn't bother refuting his weird assumptions—too much hassle—and just brushed it off vaguely.
But he was curious, probably because he had a lot riding on this too.
Imagining all sorts of nonsense, he fired questions at me.
"What... ridiculous crap. Why would I like Park Eun-ji? Anyway, it's not a blind date, so don't misunderstand. Hanging up."
I let out a heavy sigh that could’ve cracked the table.
Dealing with smart folks like James Wang from Shanghai Capital or the president playing go in the Blue House might actually be easier.
Talking to unpredictable loose cannons like Kim Beom-ho or Ham Chae-eun just drained my energy.
"Man, you make it complicated. Getting Prosecutor Park Eun-ji's contact? Piece of cake."
"That's why it has to be roundabout for it to mean anything."
"Huh? What're you on about?"
"She's a loose cannon prosecutor, right? You think she'd meet some big corp chairman who calls out of the blue?"
"Fair. She'd flip him off with her manicured middle finger and tell him to fuck off. Winking with one eye."
She'd probably just text a photo of it rather than show up in person.
Whatever.
Once I laid the groundwork through Kim Beom-ho... the gears in my head would start grinding with a satisfying clunk.
Gears that'd smash a massive organized crime syndicate to bits—without tarnishing the Ammunition Group name.
"Yeah, something like that. Anyway, things are going smoother than expected. Might have to buy our playboy Kim Beom-ho a chicken later."
"What'd Kim Beom-ho say? As long as he doesn't cause trouble, hallelujah."
Troublemaker Kim Beom-ho. Adultery, drugs, and now illegal private gambling.
Normally, I'd scold him or leverage the dirt for what I want... but not this time.
He looked perfect for the wooden puppet role.
"He caused a little trouble... but a pretty one this time. Guess I'll have to cozy up more from now on."
* * *
"Issue the warrant."
Prosecutor Park Eun-ji looked like she had a ton of gripes with life.
Her target? The poor prosecutor’s office clerk right in front of her—dad to three elementary kids and one on the way with his wife.
"Sigh... Prosecutor. Instead of a warrant, just punch me..."
"Beating you up wastes my energy. Hurry and issue the damn warrant."
The frazzled dad rubbed his temples. He mustered his best defense in front of this nutcase boss.
"B-But Prosecutor Park... The Pan Deok-sul assemblyman bribery case—the chief said to pump the brakes."
"I drive with both feet. I'll hit the gas too—let's see how far it goes. Right foot or left?"
Blithely ignoring traffic laws, Prosecutor Park Eun-ji pressed on.
Her recent cases were all small potatoes; the juicy ones got axed from above.
Her runaway train was hitting its limits, hinges cracking on the iron engine door.
"Issue the warrant good and hard, then let's clock out. Beer and crash—perfect."
"It's only 4 p.m...."
"Don't care. I'm turning my phone off, so if the bosses call, you ignore it too."
"......"
Tears welled in the prosecutor investigator's eyes.
All that awaited was a transfer to some backwater—with this lunatic as his set-menu side dish.
'Honey, kids... Daddy's sorry....'
As if heaven pitied the poor clerk...
Prosecutor Park Eun-ji's phone blared with a loud ring.
"What the hell."
It was the last person she'd expect to call first: chaebol troublemaker Kim Beom-ho.
"Hmm, Beom-ho. Big sis missed you tons? What's the occasion?"
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