Chapter 53
Chapter 53
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 53
Chapter Title: The Day of the Shareholders' Meeting (4)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Like the tides of ebb and flow crossing paths at their whim along the seaside of some island village, the hall buzzed chaotically with people's voices.
Interests clashing in complete opposition, impossible to mix, right at the edge of their limits.
Some pushing toward the vast, distant ocean. Others rushing back toward the sandy shore.
The final sight of the fiercely swirling waters subsiding was someone vomiting out a cry in utter defeat.
"This… this can't be! This makes no sense! How, how could something like this happen to our Ammunition Group! Oh, ancestors!"
An elderly gentleman from the clan meeting, the oldest among them, dressed in a traditional white hanbok.
His hazy retinas, on the verge of bursting into sobs, reflected the stern Financial Supervisory Service official pointing at the results.
-Regarding the appointment of Han Seo-jun as Chairman candidate of Ammunition Group. In favor: 50.13%, Opposed: 48.22%.
Amid the stunned silence, broken only by faint sobs, everyone stood as if struck by lightning.
No one had told me to, and without my conscious will, words slipped out unbidden.
"I won…."
I won.
A solid, irreversible victory, achieved by mobilizing every resource at my disposal, now firmly in my grasp.
Not the puppet seat I had ascended to before the regression, ignorant and half-baked, but the position earned through full effort.
"Now it begins. A new beginning."
I wasn't overcome with joy to the point of losing control in my seat.
I simply let a smile play on my lips, calmly taking in the renewed world with my own eyes.
"Whew… Guess I can drop the 'candidate' label and call you Chairman for real now. Looking at you again, you already seem a bit different somehow."
Kim Won-cheol, acting like a medieval knight before his lord, overly deferential in his courtesy.
My top aide extended his hand low for a shake. I gripped it firmly, joy swelling in my heart.
"Heh heh heh… It's like there's a halo of light behind you, like some Buddha. Anyway, so what's your one-liner impression right now?"
"Thank you. Truly."
"Keh, what thanks? Let's go fishing sometime later. For now…"
Kim Won-cheol jerked his thumb backward. Turning my head, I saw Grandmother had ascended the podium at some point.
"You've worked hard."
Her usual icy gaze matched by her curt, rigid tone.
Yet in this moment, that frozen tundra of a face seemed unusually warm.
"It must be lonely. That seat."
"I know. That's why I'm fully prepared."
Grandmother paused, about to offer more advice, then nodded as Seo Taehu, having fully relinquished the empress dowager's crown, spoke.
"Fine. If you know, that's enough. As for the remaining matters…"
Her eyes instantly turned cold and ruthless. The face of the empress who once sat behind the bamboo screen, manipulating the entire Ammunition Group, twisted with anger and complexity.
"……."
The end of that icy stare fixed on three figures.
Those defeated in the war for the crown, now facing the blade of purge.
Anxiety and bewilderment wrapping their bodies, their voices carried clearly even from this distance.
"Why, why that result…! Hadn't we calculated every single share perfectly?"
The lavish life of generations, vanished like a midsummer night's dream. Han Deok-sul, Honorary Advisor, left only with the price to pay, stared in blank despair.
"No, no! This has to be a dream! Please, it must be a dream! Please…."
Han Seo-ho, regretting his foolish blunder—too thin-eared to fix—escaping into denial.
"……."
Like a face reflected in crudely pieced-together shards of a broken mirror, twisted with dozens, hundreds of despairs crammed into each fragment.
His lower lip clenched so tight that his canine pierced it, drawing beads of blood.
A silence carrying more anguish than a hundred cries. That was Uncle's visage.
"My son or not, his greed went too far. He's walked the path to ruin himself."
"How will you dispose of Uncle?"
"Can't decide right now. We'll discuss it later. The inauguration comes first."
Yoo Se-na, the manager, approached me.
She draped a lei around my neck herself, then gestured toward the podium center.
"Time for your official statement, Chairman. The economic press reporters are all set."
"Understood. Let's move."
One step, two steps, slowly approaching the podium center, which today shone dazzlingly bright.
I received the mic from the stoic Financial Supervisory Service official, along with congratulations.
Beneath the crystal chandelier like the Milky Way in the night sky, I opened my mouth as Chairman Han Seo-jun.
"I am Han Seo-jun, the new Chairman of Ammunition Group. First, thank you for your support."
Thunderous applause followed by camera flashes popping.
The arrival of the new master on the throne. Supporters raised their heads in cheers, while opponents stared dead at the floor.
The one thing both sides shared: ears wide open, etching every word I spoke into their minds.
"But on this joyous day, I cannot simply revel. We must set Ammunition Group's direction amid the current despair of the global financial crisis."
Fragments of memory from before the regression: flailing to revive a crumbling group with half-baked knowledge and poor judgment.
Now, time to gather those pieces in my head one by one.
Not as the clumsy novice of before, but as a true Chairman, fully prepared and adept.
"Total reform of Ammunition Group. That alone is the only path to survival. A reform that will draw blood and shave bone is coming."
I clenched my right fist tight.
Veins bulging on my neck, my voice booming louder than usual, vibrating vividly past my uvula.
With the metallic tang of blood on my tongue, I pressed on with the speech.
"I will eradicate the parasites sucking the group's vital blood to fill their bellies! I will oust the incompetent and nurture talent! I will pound fiercely on the doors of the new world opening before us!"
The new world soon to come.
I know it. What innovations, what massive currents will surge forth from now on.
Releasing the mic, clearing my throat, I straightened my chest and gazed at the future ahead.
The powerful voice surging from deep within.
Looking back, it was probably more a vow to myself than words for others.
"These pledges are no empty rhetoric! I will prove them solely through numbers and metrics. Thank you!"
* * * *
In front of the bar in the basement of Hotel Florence stood a "No Entry" sign.
Beyond the yellow chain barring outsiders, in the innermost room, three men sat around a table.
Han Hwa-gi, suit jacket flung open haphazardly, downed harsh whiskey furiously.
He propped his shoe on the table and finally opened his tightly shut mouth.
"It's over. Everything's done. We've been perfectly screwed, so all that's left is to wait for death."
"Come on… What kind of desperate talk is that? If even you give up like this, what are we supposed to do?"
Han Deok-sul, Honorary Advisor, face etched with pain.
Grasping at straws, perhaps?
The white-haired elder shoved aside Han Hwa-gi's glass, who sat in dazed resignation.
"What are you trying to do now?"
"Ah, are we really just going to end like this? As long as we live, we aim for a comeback—that's what I'm saying."
"Comeback? You want me to rise again? How? With what?"
"Well, that is…"
Han Deok-sul trailed off, face darkening, unable to continue.
No matter how he punched the calculator in his head, no sign of rebuilding the kingdom on the ashes remained, even scouring with washed eyes.
"You and I both know the purge blade heads straight for our necks starting tomorrow, right?"
"……."
"That lowborn Han Seo-jun… I don't even want to imagine what revenge he'll unleash."
In pitch-black darkness devoid of hope.
Han Hwa-gi, resigned to his fate, murmured like a prisoner savoring his last meal before the scaffold.
"The purge's blood wind. It'll tear every bit of flesh from our bones."
His sclera bloodshot red.
With the alcohol's haze, better if it led to sleep from which he'd never wake—that was the realistic hope.
Ignoring his son Han Seo-ho's worried voice, he refilled his glass.
"We've exposed each other's dirt too much. Real prison time's probably unavoidable now."
"Father…."
"Seo-ho, you head to Singapore for a bit first. Elder, for now, destroy the key evidence as best you can…"
His mind barely cleared by the outside air.
As vibrations started from his pocket—trying to minimize damage from the coming blade.
-Bzzzzzz!
Han Hwa-gi frowned suspiciously.
Since the shareholders' meeting defeat, no one had reached out first.
In this situation, only one force would seek him, so with a displeased expression, he rubbed his temple and barely pressed accept.
"This is Han Hwa-gi. My apologies."
"I heard the news just now."
"I have no face. Nothing to say."
Propping his chin with his elbow, barely holding himself up.
What did he hear on the call?
Light suddenly flickered in his drained eyes.
"Understood. Please give me a moment."
Han Deok-sul and Han Seo-ho unable to hide their curiosity, question marks practically over their heads—but they'd never learn the call's contents.
"Elder, step out for a bit. You too, Seo-ho."
"Come on, what…?"
Han Hwa-gi waved roughly, irritated. Finally alone in the vast empty room, his face reflected in the glass sculpture on the table.
"Is that… truly possible?"
"Do you deem it impossible? This final opportunity that has come knocking?"
Han Hwa-gi clenched and unclenched his fist repeatedly. Sweat beaded on his forehead, trickling down under the phone pressed to his ear.
And finally.
His parched lips parted with effort.
Knowing full well it was a deal with the devil, yet as if mesmerized, Han Hwa-gi gripped the extended hand tightly.
"I'll do it. No, I'll follow exactly as instructed. Thank you."