Chapter 34
Chapter 34
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 34
Chapter Title: Self-Destruct Button (3)
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Han Seo-hee’s house.
Her hardened face was reflected in the glass window of the living room overlooking the Han River.
Unlike usual, Han Seo-hee wore light makeup. Like poison hidden within a smile, she wanted to give the softest possible impression to the person she was about to face.
“I need to smile. As naturally as possible.”
Her lips corners twitched awkwardly upward.
Using the fingers of both hands, she pulled the smile all the way up to its full extent.
A fabricated, fixed smile.
This ridiculous clown-like expression was exactly as her cousin had described a few days earlier.
‘Seo-hee noona. Do you know the best way for the crown prince to secure his position?’
Her cousin had suddenly tossed out the question.
When Han Seo-hee tilted her head, unable to find the answer, he didn’t wait for her response and immediately spat out the solution.
‘To put his own father on the throne. If the eldest legitimate son becomes a founding merit on top of that, who would dare object?’
As soon as he spoke, her cousin leaned forward toward her.
He raised both hands, pressed his index fingers to the corners of his mouth, and forced a smile onto his face.
‘See? This fabricated smile. From now on, you convince Seo-ho hyung-nim directly with what I’m about to tell you. With the face of an ambitious little sister who cares about her big brother.’
Han Seo-hee had countered that her ever-suspicious big brother Seo-ho would never listen to his silly little sister.
But after hearing the specifics from her cousin, she had no choice but to nod.
An impeccably woven script, tight as a yangmo carpet, impossible to escape. Han Seo-ho had no choice but to bite if it played out like this.
‘An offer he can’t refuse. Even if suspicion creeps in, it doesn’t matter. In the end… he has to take it. No question.’
She shook her head and sat down in front of the mirror in her house’s powder room.
As she applied pale pink lipstick to her lips, she muttered to herself.
“…That kid’s really cunning, isn’t he.”
Her long hair, draped down, was gathered and tied back. At the same time, her resolute face appeared in the mirror.
“Yeah. Actually, this works out better. It proves there’s nothing good to gain from clashing with that Seo-jun kid.”
Having finished all her preparations, Han Seo-hee sat on the stool chair.
As she closed the cap on her trembling hand’s lipstick, her personal secretary approached and spoke.
“Miss. Young Master Seo-ho is here.”
“…Tell him to come in. Let him know I’ve been waiting for him since earlier.”
She rose from her seat.
The corridor she walked down, step by step, felt especially desolate today, like an empty stage.
Once more, Han Seo-hee pressed her fingers to the corners of her mouth. And the clumsy but theatrical smile, like that of a comedian, firmly settled on her face.
“Long time no see, Seo-ho oppa. Come on in.”
* * * *
It had been a month since Han Seo-ho last saw his sister, and his face was filled with anxiety and unease.
“…….”
Ever since his younger brother Han Seo-hu had been shipped off to Nigeria like some exiled official, he had been extremely cautious with his words and actions.
‘If I stick my neck out needlessly… I might fall out of Father’s favor.’
Uncertain what course of action to take, Han Seo-ho’s mind was a tangled mess.
Had he even lost his appetite?
He didn’t touch the prepared meal at all, merely wetting his lips with the red wine in his glass.
“Not hungry? I told them to prepare what you like, oppa. Eat something.”
“No appetite. Anyway, what’s this about? You wanted to see me alone, Seo-hee?”
“Well….”
Han Seo-hee dragged out her response, not answering his question right away.
Only after finishing the appetizer did she finally open her mouth leisurely.
“You’ve seemed so stressed lately, oppa. Because of the group.”
“Get to the point. You know I don’t like beating around the bush.”
“Cold as ever. Don’t be so harsh. It feels good to have a meal like this once in a while with the one and only brother I have.”
“One and only…?”
“Yeah. My one and only oppa.”
It was as if she were denying the very existence of her second brother, Han Seo-hu.
The wine in the glass he held sloshed like incoming waves.
‘What… does that mean? Is Seo-hee this wench trying to enter the group’s power struggle?’
He felt uneasy.
Han Seo-ho’s face stiffened, as if he’d turned to stone upon seeing a snake’s eyes.
And look—his little sister, smiling inscrutably as she noticed his quivering lower lip.
Was it the uncertainty of yet another stone being thrown into the already thin ice of the group’s succession battle?
The knife gripped tightly in his hand trembled visibly enough for anyone to see.
“Why don’t you relax? I did say something that might make you tense.”
“What do you want to say.”
“Well, first… let’s talk about Han Seo-hu, who’s hardly a little brother anymore.”
Han Seo-hee leaned back, clasping her hands and resting them on the table.
Now, she would deliver the offer her cousin had taught her—one the other side couldn’t refuse.
With the expression she’d practiced endlessly in front of the mirror, she took the stage.
“That fool brought ruin on himself, but exile in Nigeria until he’s forty? Isn’t the punishment too harsh? What do you think Father’s intentions are?”
“…….”
“Putting away anyone useless for the next-next succession in exile, and focusing solely on you, the eldest—right?”
Han Seo-ho pondered his sister’s words.
The tone seemed to raise alarms at first glance. But his heart had long aligned with the underlying truth.
Next-next successor.
A word no one dared utter amid the current harsh atmosphere.
He reined in his swelling emotions and spoke with feigned composure.
“Ahem. You’ve got better judgment than that idiot.”
“So I get why you’ve been anxious these past few days, big oppa. But… don’t you think you’re out of time to be anxious now?”
“Out of… time? Me?”
The sensation of walking on fluffy clouds vanished in an instant for Han Seo-ho.
As he bit his lower lip, wondering what he’d done wrong, Han Seo-hee’s next words rang in his ears.
“You want to be a crown prince born of founding merits, right? For that… you need achievements to become a merit, don’t you?”
“……!”
Achievement.
That single word sent a surge of urgency through Han Seo-ho’s chest, as if it might burst.
And right away, Han Seo-hee tightened her invisible grip on his heart.
“I’ve got something in mind. A card that can make you a founding merit, oppa. Of course, it’s not free.”
* * * *
Strategy Office.
Kim Won-cheol, handling work in the office, still seemed queasy from the binge drinking.
The poor hungover middle-aged man downed a yogurt in one go, stretched, and spoke to me.
“Ugh, I’m dying. Shouldn’t have gone to Seosan….”
“Well, there were results, weren’t there? The slush fund issue is more or less resolved.”
“That’s what feels off about it.”
We’d gotten the slush fund account password, but not the full backing of former secretary Han Yul-san.
From his talk of living expenses, that stubborn old man didn’t seem to believe I’d win the succession battle at all.
“Anyway, we need to keep thinking of ways to win him over. Ha… that old geezer’s temper.”
“Why not just leave him be? No need to stir up trouble—just let the clan association run its course.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Kim Won-cheol tilted his head, a big question mark hovering above.
I grabbed a black board marker, stood in front of the whiteboard, and sketched a rough org chart of the clan association.
“Honorary Advisor Han Deok-sul, and his son Han Hyeong-min, the clan association chairman. Their goal is sucking the group’s blood through primary subcontractor shares, right?”
Beside the clan association org chart, I drew an angry old man character.
With a red marker, I drew a long line between the two factions.
“And former secretary Han Yul-san. This stickler for principles can’t stand watching those two run rampant under the clan association banner.”
“Right. That’s why the old man insists on pushing the finance whiz Han Hwa-gi.”
Kim Won-cheol spoke in a frustrated tone. Probably still groggy from the hangover.
With a smile tugging at my lips, I wrote two group headquarters titles right next to the clan association org chart.
One was Finance Headquarters Director, the other Strategy Director.
“Then it’s simple, isn’t it? If Honorary Advisor Han Deok-sul backs the uncle, former secretary Han Yul-san will push me as a substitute.”
“Hey, that’s easier said than done. Why would Han Deok-sul support Han Hwa-gi? And does Han Hwa-gi even need Han Deok-sul’s power in the first place….”
In that moment, Kim Won-cheol’s face lit up like he’d been bonked on the head with a mallet, a lightbulb flashing before his eyes.
The scattered pieces in his head were finally connecting.
“…I see. The reason Han Hwa-gi needs to join hands with Han Deok-sul.”
“Precisely, he will soon. It’ll fall into place perfectly.”
-Ring ring ring! Ring ring ring!
Right on cue, the phone rang.
The caller ID showed Ammunition Securities President Gu Seok-su.
“Looks like it’s started. Yes, President Gu. Go ahead.”
“Strategy Director? As you mentioned before… Ammunition Securities’ U.S. branch reports a large volume of housing-related derivatives hitting the market.”
A report that, per Han Seo-ho’s orders as securities team leader, they’d created and dumped subprime-linked financial products.
The 115 billion won needed for the loan on the Iraq desalination plant proposal.
Han Seo-ho—and the uncle—probably had no idea.
That this seemingly effortless funding route was exactly as I’d intended.
And… that it was herding the two straight toward a cliff in the deep mountains.
“Thank you for your efforts. We’ll have [Cocoa Bank] acquire that volume, so please handle the massage discreetly.”
“Yes, Strategy Director. Thank you for trusting me.”
The call ended with just the essentials exchanged. I looked up to see Kim Won-cheol, who’d heard everything, staring at me with a dazed grin.
“You’re… a real madman. Madman.”
“Too kind. Looks like Seo-hee noona did well. Han Seo-ho… took the bait exactly as planned and caused a real mess.”