Chapter 216
Chapter 216
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 216
Chapter Title: People Leaving, People Staying, Chaos (4)
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The Minister of Justice was more favorable toward me than I had expected.
From the start, he probably had no desire to clash with someone who was on such good terms with the President over something this minor.
“In truth, we don’t have much of a burden regarding the pardon itself. Even the VIP entrusted it to me.”
“Thank you for your consideration in every way.”
A perfunctory conversation over light drinks.
As we discussed a few legal issues related to the pardon, the Minister threw a probing question my way.
“But—and I hope this isn’t too rude—the pardon itself… I wonder if it’s truly alright for Chairman Han.”
“Hmm.”
News of Grandmother’s pancreatic cancer. Or more precisely… the resulting pardon for Uncle and the crisis looming over Ammunition Group’s control had apparently become quite the hot topic, spreading beyond the business world into political and official circles.
Seeming embarrassed by his own words, he downed a cup of lukewarm cheongju and added,
“As for me, I’ll follow your instructions to the letter, but I worry there might be some unforeseen trouble down the line… Ahem, sorry about that.”
He bowed his head awkwardly toward me.
Truth be told, I wasn’t exactly thrilled by this mildly rude reaction either.
But it went to show just how ambiguous the outside world’s view of me had become, beyond the walls of Ammunition Group.
That was why I met his impudence head-on, as if it were nothing at all.
“It’s fine. It doesn’t matter.”
Surprised, perhaps, he twitched one eyebrow up and down.
Yes, it didn’t matter.
No matter how the outside world saw it, I was confident I could easily overcome this crisis too.
“Just proceed with the March 1st special pardon as planned. I’ll take responsibility for anything related to the Group or our family.”
“Ah… Understood. We’ll handle it that way. And…”
The Minister seemed embarrassed by my attitude.
Coughing lightly as if to change the subject before it got more awkward, he asked,
“Ahem, how is Director feeling? Given the illness, I worry she might not be well.”
To his question asking if she was okay, I gave no immediate reply.
I simply stared at my dark eyes reflected in the liquor cup.
Okay… Of course a terminal pancreatic cancer patient couldn’t be okay. The horrific pain creeping up silently stamped footprints of torment onto her body.
But despite that agony, Grandmother was okay in another way.
Her mind. At a glance, her spirit had seemed clouded, but it was sharper than anyone else’s.
Like a deer gazing at its reflection by the lakeside, I recalled the conversation I’d had with Grandmother at the hospital before coming here.
* * * *
After losing consciousness once and barely opening her eyes again, Grandmother.
Was it because she’d forcibly held onto the life draining from her body?
The faint color in her cheeks and the fragile clarity in her voice had long since faded into the visage of an aged invalid.
But.
‘I’ll trust you. And my second son.’
“Grandmother…?”
Ripping off the oxygen mask as if it were a nuisance, she gripped the back of my hand with her bony fingers.
Even turning her head was a struggle, yet lying there, she stared straight into my eyes and continued.
‘Even if he gets out of prison, I’ll make him promise to live quietly. Of course, he won’t be allowed anywhere near management. Cough! Cough!’
“Grandmother, call the medical staff now…!”
‘Cough, cough! No, it’s fine. I have something I must say right now.’
Red blood staining the front of her patient gown.
Medical devices blared with shrill alarms, flashing red lights incessantly.
As footsteps of rushing medical staff echoed from afar, Grandmother let out a long sigh and spoke.
“Whew… Perhaps my eyes are clouded. No, they’re probably thoroughly fogged over by now.”
“……”
‘If, later on, my judgment proves wrong, then.’
It must have been heartache, not physical pain.
Furrowing her brow deeply, pain etched on her face, Grandmother continued with words laced in despair.
‘If that boy ultimately covets control of the Group, then finish it completely.’
“……!”
Her plea that, in the worst case, it was fine to drive Uncle back to hell.
That directive from Seo Taehu came bundled with the mercy of an aged mother.
‘But until then, give that child one last chance. Seo-jun, you must keep that promise…’
With that, as if she’d said all she needed to, she closed her eyes again.
Amid the frantic movements of the emergency medical team and the indifferent beeps of the machines, that was how I steeled my resolve.
* * * *
The caw of crows echoing from Moran Mountain sounded darkly ominous, even though dawn had passed into bright daylight.
Closest to that dreary cry, on the left side of the third-floor hallway in Anyang Prison.
In a place where even sunlight filtered in sporadically, Joo Gwae-yul stroked his patchy gray-white beard and spoke.
“Teacher Jo. About Han Hwa-gi. Aren’t you curious what that snake-like bastard is scheming?”
A blood-scented, shadowy corner. In the endmost cell gathering the big shots who’d each made names for themselves in that brutal world.
Inside the room wider than the others, the man lounging in the prime seat didn’t lift his eyes from his book as he replied indifferently to Joo Gwae-yul’s question.
“Heh. Chairman Joo, my man. Has a wise guy like you already lost your edge just ‘cause you’re in the slammer?”
Jo Seok-gu, ringleader of the Snow Faction, a native Honam organized crime group.
Known as Teacher Jo despite his bandit-like brutish looks, he was actually a sharp moneylender in the illegal private finance world.
Sharp enough to piece together the big picture from scattered fragments.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I thought that Han Hwa-gi fella was missing one eye at first. Y’know, he wouldn’t even turn his head left—like, is this one-eyed punk blind? Heh heh.”
As a scion of a chaebol family, Han Hwa-gi carried his sense of privilege even in prison.
He acted like merely glancing at the violent offenders on the left hallway would lower his status.
But now.
His voice boomed across the entire third floor, pleading toward the left side.
“The rich young master is seekin’ out lowlifes like us. Means his own piss is runnin’ short—he’s got needs, Chairman Joo.”
“Needs…?”
“Damn, you gettin’ senile already? That bloodsuckin’ brat who got your girl into school!”
“Han Seo-jun…!”
Joo Gwae-yul’s face flushed crimson with rage that surged unbidden.
Han Seo-jun—the one who’d landed him in this lifelong prison hell, never to step outside again until death.
And ironically, the man on the right side of the hallway had also been cast into the abyss by his own nephew, Han Seo-jun.
So, there was only one reason Han Hwa-gi would seek out Joo Gwae-yul himself.
“He’s got beef with that nephew punk and wants to smash his skull with a sledgehammer. That’s why he’s grovelin’ like that. Heh heh heh.”
“Smash that rip-him-apart bastard Han Seo-jun….”
“Heh heh heh. Look at our Chairman Joo—eyes fierce like the old days. Whew, that killer glare. Reminds me of when you were twistin’ off underlings’ fingers.”
-Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo!
A cuckoo clock chimed as eerily and ominously as the crows outside—if not more so.
Three calls signaling 3 p.m., and Joo Gwae-yul rose immediately.
Extending a hand to Jo Seok-gu, who laughed heartily beside him, he said,
“Let’s head over, Teacher Jo. Looks like I’ll be sniffin’ outside air sooner than I thought.”
* * * *
“Ugh… I’m dyin’ here, for real. Seo-hu, how the hell did you survive this hellhole?”
“Hyung, you just now realizin’ it’s hell?”
Nigeria, diamond mine.
Han Hwa-gi’s two sons, Han Seo-ho and Han Seo-hu. In the jungle that was no different from green hell, the brothers slumped at the mine entrance, wiping sweat with handkerchiefs.
“Prison was better, wasn’t it? Rebels, heat, venomous bugs… and no girls to fool around with! Total exile!”
“There are girls. Local black girls.”
“Fuck that, AIDS and drop dead? How’ve I even survived this shit.”
Unscrewing the canteen lid to wet his throat, second son Han Seo-hu poured the rest over his head to cool off.
Letting fall drops of water, sweat, or maybe tears of regret, he spoke.
“Anyway, it’s all that rotten Han Seo-jun’s fault. Dad lost it ‘cause of him and shipped me here. And then.”
He glanced at his older brother, Han Seo-ho.
“Sent you straight here right after gettin’ out of the pen.”
Having served his three-year sentence and been released on time, Han Seo-ho was immediately sent to join his brother.
Of course, it was all under Seo Taehu’s approval and Kim Won-cheol’s arrangements.
“Just thinkin’ of that guy keeps me up at night. That ruthless prick! How could he do this to his own blood?”
“Must be ‘cause his blood’s trash. Old Chairman fell head over heels for some slut and popped him out.”
“Yeah… that’s right. Lowborn scum.”
Amid branches stretching so high the sky was invisible.
From the green hell, Han Seo-hu exhaled a long plume of gray cigarette smoke and grumbled.
“Whew, if I could just get a shot at goin’ back. First, Dad’s gotta get outta prison.”
“Six more years left, the bastard… Huh?”
And at that moment.
Someone racing toward brothers Han Seo-ho and Han Seo-hu from afar.
Pokulom Section Chief, the highest-ranking local staffer in Nigeria.
“Seo-ho! Seo-hu! Good news! You happy!”
“What’s he sayin’, Pokulom? Speak proper Korean.”
Pokulom gesticulated wildly, wielding his shaky Korean like a pro.
Thumbs and pinkies extended, he made a fuss nonstop.
“Phone call! Korea HQ. Your dad comin’ out now!”
“What…! For real?!”
Like rain to parched drought-stricken earth?
The news of their father Han Hwa-gi’s upcoming parole reached the brothers.
And Pokulom’s follow-up words were enough to make Han Seo-ho and Han Seo-hu cheer and embrace.
“Seo-hu, Seo-ho go back Korea. Scary granny say come. Pack quick.”