Chapter 18
Chapter 18
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: Killbangwon (2)
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The presidents of Ammunition Heavy Industries, Construction, and Shipbuilding & Marine—the three companies—stepped out of the reception room.
Guided by the female secretary, they reached the inner office, where they saw it.
Their second son, Han Seo-hu, clutching at his father's trouser leg and wailing.
"H-Headquarters Director! No, Father! Please hear me out! Just once, please, just once…."
Han Seo-hu rubbed his palms together so desperately it seemed his skin might tear.
Fear dwelled in his eyes.
He knew his father Han Hwa-gi's ruthless nature all too well, instinctively grasping what it meant to be cast aside by him.
"The Gumi Munitions Factory issue—it's just that lowly Han Seo-jun clouding Grandmother's judgment for the moment! If you review it again…."
"Get this bastard out of here."
A single phrase, cold as icicles, devoid of any familial warmth.
No sooner had the words left his mouth than men in black suits burst in. They grabbed Han Seo-hu by the arms and hauled him up from the floor.
"You have to go, Young Master."
"Father! Please give me a chance! Just once…."
Han Seo-hu was dragged out like a dog on a leash.
The heavy metallic click of the door closing muffled his desperate cries.
Han Hwa-gi watched his son's pathetic exit. Not a flicker of hesitation crossed his face.
* * * *
"……."
The presidents of Ammunition Heavy Industries, Construction, and Shipbuilding & Marine had just witnessed the scene vividly with their own eyes.
Time passed, enough for saliva to catch in their throats a few times.
An awkward silence stretched on. Unable to bear it, Park Han-i, president of Heavy Industries, spoke up in a trembling voice.
"Th-that's… We came to speak with you, Headquarters Director."
"Sit. You saw something unsightly."
Question marks flooded Park Han-i's mind, filling him with a strange dread.
What judgment would this cold-blooded man before him pass on his own flesh and blood?
And… if by some chance he learned about the Iraq seawater desalination plant project—what would he do to someone like him, who shared not a drop of blood?
"Ahem, well… Headquarters Director? If I may ask an impertinent question."
That's why, at this moment, Park Han-i had to confirm it.
Even though he knew it was something he shouldn't dare ask under normal circumstances.
"What do you plan to do with Team Leader Han Seo-hu?"
"His position and title are already inappropriate. Han Seo-hu is no longer with Ammunition Casualty Insurance. It might be better to shift him to Heavy Industries."
Still seated on the sofa, Han Hwa-gi stretched his arm out to the side.
There stood a large wooden globe, reaching an adult's waist height.
He spun it absently, then spoke as if he'd found a suitable solution.
"Leaving him in the country would be a hindrance. America or Europe would surely lead to bastard child scandals from his womanizing."
"……."
Han Hwa-gi rested his chin on one hand. His other finger approached, stopping the spinning globe.
His fingertip landed on the black continent plated in gold leaf.
It was Nigeria, a backwater nation smack in the middle of West Africa.
"Once the succession structure settles and the eldest son gains power—about ten years from now—wouldn't that be fitting?"
"…Your profound wisdom for the good of the Group, Headquarters Director. It's no exaggeration to say it evokes 'slay in the marketplace, weep in private.'"
Flattery spat out to curry favor with his master, at least on the surface.
But Park Han-i's true inner thoughts were these:
'Fucking hell… What a ruthless bastard. It's his own son, but he shows not a shred of pity.'
Nigeria.
In Ammunition Heavy Industries' Mineral Resources Development Team, it was called not just exile, but the abyss.
A brutal tropical hell with security gone mad from warlords.
'Thrown raw into the heart of the African jungle for ten years straight…. If even I, no blood kin, get discarded, I won't fetch dog wages.'
Park Han-i squeezed his eyes shut.
Thinking of the Iraq seawater desalination plant made his head throb.
He shot a sidelong glance at Seong Won-sik, president of Shipbuilding & Marine, signaling him.
After all, he was in charge of the desalination project—time to take the lead.
* * * *
"…Headquarters Director. I requested this meeting because I have something to discuss."
"Yes. What is it with you three?"
Seong Won-sik's eyes were bloodshot red.
As the one bearing the greatest responsibility for the shoddy work and accounting fraud on the Iraq seawater desalination plant, his tension was doubled.
With false subservience in his bloodshot gaze, he answered Han Hwa-gi.
"Strategy Director Han Seo-jun, who's gone to Saudi—if he brings back any results, won't the Gumi Munitions Factory issue reignite?"
At the recent Group morning meeting.
After heated debate, Director Seo Myung-hee's conclusion had been a temporary hold.
It wasn't from any lack of resolve or indecisiveness on the part of Ammunition Group's iron-fisted empress.
Simply curiosity about her grandson's confident display.
How he would prove those assured words, as if he knew everything ahead.
'Iraq arms procurement contract. Is that really the reason for opposition? Director, you're saying the Group's foundation hinges on one contract?'
'Enough sarcasm. Strategy Director, state your thoughts. Even so, we can't abandon defense.'
'Neighboring Iraq is Saudi Arabia. Just book a plane ticket. I'll deliver results right away.'
Han Hwa-gi furrowed his brow deeply.
The unwelcome memory from that morning meeting days ago played vividly in his mind.
His voice sharpened.
Lacing each word with irritable fury, Han Hwa-gi shot back at Seong Won-sik.
"So. Have you brought a proper solution?"
"Of course. It's…."
"Listen, President Seong. Know this first: you'll be held accountable for every word from here on."
"Pardon?"
"That worthless son just dragged out—he's paying for the weight of his own words and the responsibility that follows."
Tension boiled in the office, choking the air.
Under Han Hwa-gi's devouring glare, Seong Won-sik's mind raced.
'Either way, if the Iraq mess blows up, I'm dead. If I fail to please Han Hwa-gi, dead. But….'
A thorny lifeline, hard to climb.
Yet under his shoddy roof, tigers of shoddy construction and accounting fraud snarled at his throat.
Seong Won-sik's only option was to grasp that precarious rope.
Even if it meant blinding the heavenly figure of Han Hwa-gi, who dangled it from the clouds.
"The insurance company side… we can negotiate citing Strategy Director Han Seo-jun's logic. They'll prefer settling within 1 trillion won over full liability."
Han Hwa-gi raised one eyebrow silently. His mood soured, but the signal was to continue.
"We'll earn that 1 trillion back in Iraq. Our Heavy Industries, Construction, and Shipbuilding & Marine will combine forces."
"The seawater desalination plant project?"
"If we finish early… we can persuade their central government into plants 2 and 3."
Seong Won-sik pushed his momentum, proposing to turn this into a monumental achievement crowning Han Hwa-gi as chairman in Iraq.
Silence returned.
But this time, it felt different.
Not suspicion or rebuke in Han Hwa-gi's mind, but serious deliberation and calculation.
As the wall clock's ticking drowned under pounding heartbeats, Han Hwa-gi finally spoke.
"…Submit the funds needed for early completion of the seawater desalination plant. Through unofficial channels."
"Th-thank you, Headquarters Director! We'll devote our utmost loyalty!"
The three presidents bowed at right angles. Han Hwa-gi dismissed them with a casual flick of his wrist.
Sinking deeper into the sofa, stark worries of additional budget crashed into his thoughts.
"Whew, it'll take at least 500 billion more for Iraq. Maybe trillions."
He didn't fully trust the three presidents of Heavy Industries, Construction, and Shipbuilding & Marine.
They surely had their own agendas, but as long as they didn't cross the line, he could tolerate it.
The real problem facing Han Hwa-gi.
Funding for early groundbreaking on the seawater desalination plant.
"Even with extra bank PF loans, we need seed money…. Always miss the predecessors' slush funds at times like this."
About 1 trillion won in slush funds, tucked away in some tax haven.
Likely in foreign currency, making it highly versatile.
Useful not just for share battles, but emergencies like this.
Irritated by the unsolved issue, Han Hwa-gi drummed his fingers on the wooden desk.
Rising with a displeased expression, he spoke.
"Who the hell is the vault keeper managing that slush fund? I'd like to see the bastard's face."
* * * *
Saudi Arabian royal palace waiting room.
This room, adorned with carpets of vibrant patterns, suddenly erupted in noise.
"Achoo! Ugh… What the hell, chills racing up my spine out of nowhere?"
"Wipe your nose first. We need to make a trustworthy impression on Prince Bin Salman."
"True. Ugh, someone must be badmouthing me big time."
Kim Won-cheol let out a massive sneeze. The room wasn't that cold, but he seemed to have caught a cold.
I asked the elderly man who looked like a butler to raise the AC temperature.
With the chill easing, Kim Won-cheol popped a dried date from the table into his mouth and said to me.
"This oil-rich country runs the AC full blast like electricity's free. Kinda enviable, in a way."
"Means they've got money to burn. And plenty of places to spend it—even on money pits like the military."
"If it works out. That Prince Bin Salman—at least he's in the Defense Ministry as a bigwig; that's fortunate."
Bin Salman.
In my past life, like Taejong Lee Bang-won, he sparked a Saudi prince's rebellion and became crown prince—an ambitious man.
Now, I waited to meet this prince my age.
"Starting his career in Defense means he can't hide his ambitions."
"What's that foggy talk?"
"You'll see soon enough. Here he comes."
At the end of my gaze, a corridor clad in golden marble.
People lined both sides, heads bowed, the center path clear.
And through them strode one man, step by step.
Dressed in white Arab traditional robes, he approached me and extended a rough hand.
Exuding an aura beyond Grand Prince Suyang, closing in on Killbangwon.
"Han Seo-jun? You're the one looking for me?"