Chapter 167
Chapter 167
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 167
Chapter Title: The Insiders (2)
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Yang Wenli, the U.S. Secretary of Commerce.
This man with the somehow familiar name held just the right position and the perfect vulnerabilities.
A Chinese-American whose loyalty was constantly questioned. Endless scrutiny from rival factions. Yet, he had climbed to the role of cabinet secretary through his own abilities alone.
With the U.S.-China hegemony war looming on the horizon, he needed a spectacle—something fitting to shield him from the storm of crises battering him from all sides.
A show unfolding against the backdrop of Silicon Valley, one I would direct and oversee entirely.
"I'm Han Seo-jun. I've come because I have urgent business to discuss."
"Yang Wenli. Jumping straight to the point isn't bad... but first, allow me one request."
Our meeting took place at a restaurant near Washington, D.C. The graying man moistened his throat with the red wine on the table, then simply scanned me up and down, slowly and deliberately.
As if sizing up the true measure of the man before him.
"Time is gold to a high-ranking politician. The kind you entrepreneurs love so much."
"I understand completely—more than a hundred times over."
"Good to know. So... let me make one thing clear. If this conversation yields nothing worthwhile..."
His sharp features weren't just a matter of genetics, it seemed.
Yang Wenli stuffed a bloody steak into his mouth and chewed ferociously.
In a voice bristling with thorns, he jabbed his fork in my direction and growled.
"Your Ammunition Group? You won't make a dime in the U.S. during my entire tenure. No profits, absolutely none."
Just as my investigations had revealed.
The USB packed with Seo-hee noona's network intel—every detail combed through to uncover this lead.
Bloodlines might tie him to China, but down to his bones, he was American. At the same time, mainstream society treated him like an outsider.
His prickly words and actions whispered to me without a sound.
This man was cornered politically. And if I extended a hand from the edge of that cliff, I could get exactly what I wanted.
"For a high-ranking politician, time being gold means... your power only lasts as long as you're in that seat, right?"
"......?"
That's why I could casually toss out those words, unfazed by his pointed threat.
"Right now, Secretary, you're facing a crisis where you'll be forced out as soon as the midterms end?"
"What...?"
"Then, the time that follows for you would become commonplace and worthless. Just like any ordinary person's."
"How dare you say such a thing...!"
As Yang Wenli moved to erupt in anger, I raised my right hand.
A deliberate silence I invoked.
The moment of us staring into each other's eyes didn't last long. I took a sip to wet my throat and continued.
"I want your time to remain precious going forward. More so as you climb higher—to the next level, and the one after."
"Your words flow like a clear stream."
Clink. The silver fork and knife crossed atop the white porcelain plate. Signaling the waiter to pause service, Secretary Yang Wenli looked at me and spoke.
"Let's hear it. The reason you wanted to meet me."
A mix of displeasure and strange anticipation.
The way he crossed his arms made his emotions plain to see.
Of course... I was already certain those locked arms would soon unfold.
"I've put together a suitable stage. The rough story: a pitiful East Asian victim of racism and abuse, and his whistleblower act brimming with justice."
Park Cheol-su, a fellow East Asian. If Secretary Yang Wenli shook hands with him—framed as a courageous whistleblower—sympathy from public opinion would surely boost the secretary's standing in U.S. politics.
It would give this minority figure a leg up.
And on top of that.
"But wouldn't you know, the axis of evil standing opposite him happens to be tied to your bloodline."
"......!"
China. The root of Yang Wenli's heritage. Unfortunately, also the bloodline that could drag him down.
Secretary Yang Wenli's face soured bitterly.
He wiped his greasy mouth with a pristine napkin and muttered as if lost in memory.
"China... So that's why Shanghai Capital was so doggedly persistent."
"It's also why the J-Coco sale approval moved so quickly from below."
"Hmph..."
A sigh escaped him as he stared at the glass on the table.
Having received the rough scenario for the show I'd scripted, he just kept gulping down cold water like his throat was parched.
His eyes urged me to lay out the detailed synopsis.
"So here's the thing. I have an idea—a razor-sharp solution that settles everything at once."
And I wasn't so clumsy as to miss that signal.
Thud. A single envelope of documents placed on the table.
"Turn this East Asian minority victim into a hero. Block technology leaks to China—your bloodline's homeland and a potential enemy state."
The moment the order went out, the media would lionize him: Park Cheol-su, the saint transcending racism and abuse to become a messenger of justice.
And beside him, Secretary Yang Wenli defending him at the top of his lungs.
As he took in the synopsis I'd prepared, serious creases began forming on his face.
"Wouldn't that prove your loyalty to the United States beyond doubt?"
* * * *
"Trash! Where the hell is that trash Park Cheol-su!"
Silicon Valley, J-Coco headquarters.
The CEO's office echoed with the usual bellows. But today, without the intermittent smacks of beatings, only Dick Johnson's voice boomed through.
"Hey! Where'd that yellow maggot slink off to?"
"You mean... Mr. Park?"
With massive sums of money at stake—and plenty of illegal dealings mixed in—he was walking a razor's edge of sensitivity.
Dick Johnson grabbed the innocent secretary's shoulder and unleashed a tirade.
"You think there's another maggot in this company? Quit yapping and answer quick!"
"Y-yes, sir. One moment, please!"
Shrinking as the sparks flew her way, the female staffer checked the system as fast as she could and reported back.
"Let's see... He logged sick leave early this morning for the whole day."
"What? Ha! Unbelievable! That guy's a total psycho!"
Crash. In a rage, he kicked the trash can flying across the room. Still not sated, Dick Johnson hurled whatever he could grab, venting his boundless fury.
"The SA Group sale is closing in! And that idiot can't even fix one patent right, claims his body's busted, and takes sick leave!"
The terrified secretary.
Normally, Park Cheol-su bore the brunt of that rage, leaving her to just watch with pitying eyes. But now, with disaster striking her, her face drained white.
"What are you staring at, you bitch? Get out!"
"Y-yes, sir! Right away!"
Dick Johnson huffed for a while.
Calming slightly, he slumped onto the sofa and habitually grabbed the remote to turn on the TV.
"Whew, need to cool my head."
F1 races—his go-to when stressed. Watching cars tear around the track at insane speeds always soothed his boiling anger, like always.
Provided his eyes didn't wander elsewhere before flipping to the F1 channel.
"What the—? What's that? Why's the yellow monkey on there?"
The TV blared breaking news the moment it switched on. Park Cheol-su—the man he'd been screaming for—stood center screen alongside the Commerce Secretary, giving some speech.
-Mr. Park, you've exposed everything that happened at J-Coco. Beyond the racism, abuse, and assaults you mentioned, there were serious crimes too?
A reporter thrusting a mic forward.
Something... was going wrong. The only major crime Park Cheol-su knew about at J-Coco was the very thing giving Dick Johnson headaches right now.
-Patents. J-Coco's tech patents include developer equity, but I was ordered to falsify documents for the company sale.
"No... no way. Park Cheol-su, that coward—what the hell made him pull this insane stunt...!"
Clenching his fists, trembling violently, Dick Johnson wailed. As his mind went blank white, the Commerce Secretary suddenly grabbed the mic and stepped forward on screen.
"Secretary Yang Wenli? Why the hell is that guy...?"
-I'm Commerce Secretary Yang Wenli. After thoroughly reviewing Mr. Park's whistleblowing, the Commerce Department's special task force has reached the following conclusion.
Creeping unease. And that gut-wrenching premonition that never failed at times like this.
The moment Yang Wenli spoke, it became harsh reality crashing toward Dick Johnson.
-Chinese funds were behind the J-Coco sale process, and there was corruption in the approval by the Export Control Committee. Therefore...
Every piece meshed like perfect gears in a grand theater production.
At the climax of the show we'd reached, Yang Wenli recited his lines flawlessly, as scripted.
-We hereby revoke the approval in full and will file federal charges against J-Coco CEO Dick Johnson. That's all.
* * * *
Gyeongsangnam-do, Uiryeong-gun, the ancestral gravesite of the SA Group's Lim family.
Lim Jae-ho, Vice President, trudged down the mountain path. His chief secretary walked beside him, reporting gravely.
"It seems... the U.S. Commerce Secretary is using this to solidify his position. We'll need more time for the full facts."
"What more is there to investigate? It's obvious."
"Pardon?"
"Classic Han Seo-jun move. Dick Johnson's caught in that bastard's web."
Wings pinned, Dick Johnson couldn't twitch. The problem? SA Group's hand was among those holding the strings.
"Of course... I'm tangled in it too."
Lim Jae-ho gazed up at the sky.
The mischievous rain had stopped, leaving only clear blue in view.
Then, urgent news from another secretary.
"Vice President, Han Seo-jun from Ammunition Group requests a moment. He says he's nearby himself..."
"Hoo, figures. Just as I thought."
Lim Jae-ho let out a short sigh. Turning back, he gazed quietly at his father's tomb.
He murmured to himself in quiet solitude.
"Only now do I finally understand... why Father insisted on talking to that Han Seo-jun until the very end."