Chapter 35
Chapter 35
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 35
Chapter Title: Self-Destruct Button (4)
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The night air in Seosan carried the scent of sea breeze. Beneath the half-moon, former assemblyman Han Yul-san paced in circles around the courtyard.
“Hey now, old man, what’s with the moon-gazing in the dead of night? You ain’t circling a pagoda—why you spinning around like that?”
Kim Bok-hee poked her head out from the inner quarters, opening the lattice window. She pounded her chest in frustration and kept on talking.
“That’s why I’m sayin’ Han Seo-jun’s got it right. You’re just bein’ your usual stubborn self, that’s all. Pacing in place like a pup that needs to go…”
“What kinda talk is that…? I got worries on my mind, so mind your business and hit the sack early! Don’t keep openin’ and shuttin’ that door lettin’ bugs in!”
Han Yul-san started to snap back at Kim Bok-hee but caught himself. He let out a sigh and looked up at the sky.
A half-moon hung in the heavens.
The Ammunition Group had seemed like a waning moon until just recently. But thinking back on his conversation with Kim Won-cheol a few days ago, it now looked like a moon on the rise.
“Han Hwa-gi is the right man for the job, sure… but why do I keep gettin’ this bad feeling?”
“Aigoo, your gut’s spot on, old man. Who knows? Han Hwa-gi might end up eatin’ Han Deok-sul alive down the line.”
“Hey! That’s nonsense!”
“It ain’t nonsense. Like you said, he’s a seasoned finance whiz, ain’t he? If he sets his mind to devourin’ someone, he’ll do it proper…”
For days now, Kim Bok-hee had been repeating the same thing to her husband.
It had fallen on deaf ears until just a few days ago.
Han Seo-jun.
A young blood who’d racked up achievements no rookie could pull off.
He’d assumed it was all Kim Won-cheol’s doing, pulling strings like some shadowy power broker. To think it was all the kid’s own power.
“Should I prepare for the what-ifs…?”
“Aigoo, looks like your ears are finally openin’ up.”
“Ahem, quiet down! I get it, so quit naggin’!”
Han Yul-san slipped off his shoes at the stone threshold and headed back into the inner quarters.
Had his pride taken a hit?
Lying under the cotton quilt, he closed his eyes and spoke to Kim Bok-hee.
“Dear.”
“What?”
“Han Hwa-gi. No matter how I turn it over in my head, I can’t see that boy ruinin’ himself.”
He said it stubbornly, like he was convincing himself.
He tossed under the covers and added one last line before drifting off.
“That one… he ain’t the type to hold a blade to his own neck, right? Nah, no way.”
* * * *
“This is my chance… to leave a real mark on Dad. I can do this.”
Han Seo-ho muttered a line straight out of some old flick.
Clutched in his tense hand was a surefire plan his sister Han Seo-hee had passed along a few days back—a way to score big merits.
A single report outlining how to pull 115 billion won in a flash.
He held the team leader spot at Ammunition Securities. No, the actual authority granted him was executive-level or higher.
That’s why he’d hounded the New York branch staff, squeezing out a detailed plan in record time.
“It’s a bit risky… but just a month and a half. Survive that, and we’re golden.”
His throat parched like he’d trekked a desert, Han Seo-ho gulped down water from a glass.
He gripped his shaking legs with his hands when Han Hwa-gi’s personal secretary approached and bowed.
“He says come in, Young Master.”
“Already? Executive Director Jeong Cheol-sik went in less than ten minutes ago, didn’t he?”
“He wants to discuss the current matter with you.”
“Discuss it with me? You mean… the fund-raising?”
Seeing the secretary nod, Han Seo-ho couldn’t hide the grin tugging at his lips.
Maybe, just maybe, his dreaded father was finally recognizing him.
“Hurry! Let’s go!”
Rounding the corner to Han Hwa-gi’s office. Every other time he’d come here, the pressure had choked him like altitude sickness on a mountaintop.
But now? Even the hard marble floor under his heels felt like walking on clouds.
“Finally… am I proving my worth?”
Standing at the door, he stared holes into the report in his hand.
His sister Han Seo-hee, whom he’d always found prickly and impossible, suddenly felt as lovable as she had as a baby.
“Who knew that girl Seo-hee would come through like this? Later… when I cut her loose, I’ll toss her a bit of cash and send her packin’.”
Oblivious to the fact he was the one being played, Han Seo-ho kept dreaming.
Played not even directly by Han Seo-hee, but by whoever was pulling her strings—he hadn’t a clue.
- Knock knock!
After a deep breath, he knocked on the wooden door, hope brimming.
Han Seo-ho had no idea.
What butterfly effect this choice would unleash down the line.
“Father, it’s Seo-ho. May I come in?”
* * * *
Inside Han Hwa-gi’s office.
The rustle of turning pages accompanied Han Hwa-gi’s weary question.
“Let’s wrap this up here. How’s the audit side progressing?”
“We’re double-checking separately in the Group Finance HQ right now. But… so far, no big discrepancies from the Audit Team’s findings.”
Executive Director Jeong Cheol-sik of Finance HQ bowed his head as he reported to Han Hwa-gi.
Having latched onto Han Seo-jun as his lifeline, any false report would be more than a conscience issue—it’d be survival.
“They can’t inspect the sites directly… so they’re just reviewing the books, nothin’ beyond reexamination. My apologies.”
“No matter. Finance HQ’s role is just cross-verifying that fool Yoo Ji-won’s work—that’s plenty.”
Han Hwa-gi seemed increasingly doubtful of his confidant, Audit Team Leader Yoo Ji-won’s abilities lately.
The 8888 account cooked up by Han Seo-jun and Kim Won-cheol had crippled internal audits, but all the blame had landed squarely on Yoo Ji-won.
“Anyway, we’ve got a rough outline. If we zero in on the overseas transfers, we should hit the deadline somehow.”
“Phew… here’s hopin’ Yoo Ji-won ain’t a total blockhead. Anything else?”
“Oh, and that fund-raising you mentioned last time? The Iraq seawater desalination plant…”
Jeong Cheol-sik trailed off deliberately, piquing Han Hwa-gi’s interest.
Lowering his voice, he proceeded cautiously.
“115 billion won. After lookin’ into it… siphonin’ it off quietly just ain’t feasible.”
“No way at all?”
“The banks demand full source-of-funds proof for balance certs. They make loans easy, then get picky on this stuff…”
Han Hwa-gi’s face hardened.
It chafed him—like chasing a mirage, all sizzle and no steak.
Should he liquidate personal assets for quick cash? He pondered.
Then, out of nowhere, Jeong Cheol-sik flashed a beaming grin wildly out of place and dropped a bombshell.
“Anyway, congratulations are in order. The eldest young master’s sharp as a tack.”
“…I haven’t the foggiest what you’re on about. Jeong Cheol-sik, what’s that supposed to mean?”
“What I’m sayin’ is, Young Master Seo-ho came up with an idea even a thick skull like me couldn’t dream of.”
“Seo-ho…? He secured the funds?”
His eldest, all talk and no results—Han Hwa-gi had never fully trusted him.
He’d shipped off the second son like an exile over succession drama, but the first hadn’t fully won his heart either.
Yet now, the cheeky Gyeongsang dialect praise for his eldest son struck home—both as a successor and as a father.
“That’s right. He’s waitin’ outside. How ’bout you hear it straight from him?”
“Send him in now. Let’s talk it over.”
Han Hwa-gi’s face lit up.
Jeong Cheol-sik, playing the humble subordinate, bowed low.
Not out of loyalty to Han Hwa-gi—but to hide the grin creeping up unbidden.
‘Whoa… just like Han Seo-jun said, it’s fallin’ into place. I barely fanned the flames, and the whole mess is spinnin’ on its own?’
* * * *
“…So, we form the funds from sales proceeds of short-term derivatives backed by U.S. housing MBS.”
Having finished his briefing before his father, Han Seo-ho unconsciously bit the dry inside of his lower lip.
He looked like a musical theater newbie after his debut, waiting for the crowd’s verdict post-curtain.
“…….”
Han Seo-ho couldn’t relax, strung tight by the silence of his sole audience and critic—the man who’d decide if he’d grace that stage again.
The house lights up, curtain call nearing. At last, Han Hwa-gi, who’d listened stone-faced, parted his lips.
“Impressive. The eldest is a cut above.”
“F-Father…”
“Worthy of sending Seo-hu to the boonies. Focusing everything on you was the right call.”
Han Hwa-gi spared no praise.
In a family where father-son affection was rare currency, this was the highest accolade Han Seo-ho could hope for.
Barely containing his swelling emotions, he pressed on with details.
“I’ve factored in risk management too. Short of the U.S. collapsing by September this year, it’s a no-loss proposition.”
“September… right. That’s manageable.”
Han Hwa-gi knew the dangers brewing in the U.S. economy but flipped to optimism, wishful thinking in gear.
His rival and nephew Han Seo-jun’s financial crisis warning from the group morning meeting.
It nagged at him. He couldn’t deny the data showing it was plausible, timeline fuzzy or not.
But… the shimmering mirage of the Ammunition Group crown logo dangling before him.
Han Hwa-gi and Han Seo-ho, father and son—both entranced, chasing the crown blind to the chasm at their feet.
“Excellent. We’ll go with this. You’ve done a huge thing, Seo-ho.”
“I’m… just thrilled you recognize it, Father!”
Eyes blindfolded, footing firm as if on solid rock—Han Hwa-gi stepped forward confidently.
Never imagining his hunter-nephew’s herding. What awaited was a sharpened trap, pointed straight to ruin.