Chapter 56
Chapter 56
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 56
Chapter Title: Affiliate Separation and Time Bomb (3)
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The fog hung so thick over the Yangpyeong fishing spot that it was hard to make out what lay ahead.
On the wide lake, a small floating platform resembling a house bobbed and creaked gently against the current.
“Take that!”
Kim Won-cheol hung some rice cake bait on the hook and hurled the rod forward with all his might.
Now the chairman’s direct secretary chief, the man stared blankly at the rippling water and spoke to me.
“Looks like this matter calls for the art of patience, just like fishing.”
“Is it hard to push forward right away? Like stripping Shanghai Capital of its power on industrial espionage charges and detonating the derivatives they hold at Cocoa Bank.”
“If we blow it up now, it’ll look like infighting within the group again. Then the clan meeting, which just barely quieted down, will kick up a fuss once more.”
My uncle’s plan was to split off the financial affiliates using Shanghai Capital’s influence.
To that end, it was obvious that core defense technology transfers and dirt-cheap sales of overseas resource development rights would be the price.
A price we couldn’t hand over—no, absolutely shouldn’t.
That’s why, the moment I took the chairman’s seat, I’d filed complaints with the prosecutors against President Park Han-i and President Na Deok-sul.
“I hear proving the industrial espionage charges won’t be easy.”
“That’s right. We don’t have solid evidence we can use. It’s like lingering affection for an ex-wife after a divorce.”
“What’s that, some family court ruling?”
Kim Won-cheol, now the chairman’s direct secretary chief, pulled a piece of bubble gum from the front pocket of his mesh fishing vest and chewed on it noisily.
Over the past few days, I’d been sending him scurrying between the finance headquarters and the affiliates to dig up info, but it seemed there’d been some issues.
“We had something, but the links are gone. All wiped clean. No traces left.”
Then came talk of Audit Team Leader Yoo Ji-won.
It was as if my uncle had suddenly tidied up the front lines—he’d ordered the man to erase as much evidence as possible.
“Is it completely ironclad?”
“Not exactly. There are traces. On paper, it just says the two fought like cats and dogs and divorced, that sort of thing.”
The rod trembled.
Rougher waves surged up onto the surface.
Not the time to reel in yet.
A big fish had firmly taken the bait, but I needed to wait until it tired itself out.
Just like now.
“But… if we expose even that, the young ones below will get bloodied, right?”
“The young ones…?”
“The older ‘young ladies’ attached to the chairman this time. Guys like Seong Won-sik, or the Gu Seok-su and Jeong Cheol-sik combo—we can’t ignore them.”
A tremor ran through the tightly gripped rod.
Calm waiting. Tense tug-of-war.
The translucent nylon line strained right on the verge of snapping, the reel taut in that precarious balance.
Bit by bit, the marked line crept upward through the fog.
Finally, something alive thrashed into the air, dangling right in front of me.
“Would you look at the size of that beast.”
The nameless fish flopped wildly on the deck.
Had it been a predator in the lake?
Its razor-sharp, interlocking teeth snapped as if ready to bite off my finger, mouth gaping.
“Fishing’s all about timing. I bet this situation is too.”
“Seems like it.”
Just then, my own rod started shaking. Looked like one of its buddies had been swimming nearby.
A fierce struggle from the start.
It reminded me so much of my uncle and Shanghai Capital’s moves that I let out a small chuckle.
“When the float starts bobbing up and down like this, if you yank too hard right away…”
My hand clenched the carbon pipe rod.
I deliberately pulled the line tight, rough and fast.
But the fight fizzled out just as quickly.
On the water, only the float lay still, serenely holding its spot as if no battle had raged.
“It spits out the bait you thought it swallowed and bolts, just like that.”
“Heh heh heh… See? Everything boils down to fishing. That’s why I’m out here all the time.”
With a smile plastered on my face, I said nothing and opened and closed the bait box.
I wound in the line and hooked a hefty crucian carp rice cake bait onto the needle-sharp point.
The bent hook’s tip, unlike the curved middle, was wickedly sharp to the touch.
Once it bit down properly, no escape.
“For now… that means we need to bait the hook with something tempting enough to lure the fish first.”
“Oh? From that look on your face, you’ve already got an idea. Spill it, quick.”
Kim Won-cheol poked my arm with his finger, his face full of curiosity and mischief.
“Hmm… well.”
I was debating whether to tell him when I sensed someone behind me.
Turning, I saw Vice President Yang Taek-su standing right there, beaming a Buddha-like smile.
“Ha ha ha, I wonder how many you’ve caught. Fishing for the first time, Chairman—are you not bored?”
“You can speak casually in private.”
Yang Taek-su waved off my words.
To him, it must’ve been something that couldn’t—and shouldn’t—be said.
He bowed his head to me with exaggerated politeness, almost burdensome.
“Ha ha ha, then I’d be the senile old fool. You’re the group’s greatest elder; I must show respect.”
Yang Taek-su grinned broadly.
Despite it being no easy task to treat someone young enough to be his grandson with such deference, he was striving to uphold the hierarchy he owed.
And… one of my other close aides, who’d left such hierarchies behind somewhere.
“Ha, if you’re talking like that, Vice President Yang, then what am I, always bantering with our chairman?”
“You’d be Ammunition Group’s top rebel, my friend. You’re the maknae here, so go brew some ramen.”
Kim Won-cheol, out of words, had snatched the title of Ammunition Group’s number one rebel in one go. With lips pursed like a duck’s bill, he grumbled his way into the room to boil ramen.
And as if waiting for the cue, Yang Taek-su settled onto the empty platform beside me.
Gazing at the landscape emerging through the thinning fog, he spoke.
“The financial affiliates to be separated—I assume you plan to reclaim them soon.”
“Unexpected. I figured you, like former Secretary Han Yul-san, would prioritize group stability.”
“If the one on the throne were just some ordinary fool, that’d be proper. But you’re no mere mortal, Chairman.”
“You flatter me. I just sketch out scenarios one by one.”
An autumn breeze brushed my cheek, and I looked up.
The thick fog had lifted unnoticed, revealing a vibrant new world draped in multicolored foliage.
From his seat, Yang Taek-su quietly took in the view with me. A man with more years behind than ahead, he addressed me.
“If you need the right trigger, drawing wisdom from past experiences could be one way.”
“You mean… my late father’s—no, my father’s actions?”
“As shrewd as you are, a rough draft must already be forming in your mind.”
Against the chorus of crickets, Yang Taek-su smiled warmly.
Like an elder passing wisdom to a young grandson, he sat quietly beside me, offering bits of advice.
“Vice President Yang! Soft-boiled or hard-boiled eggs? Hurry up and say!”
Kim Won-cheol must’ve nearly finished the ramen, bellowing loud enough to shake the lakeside.
“Ha ha ha… That Kim Won-cheol’s such a worrywart. Don’t you think, Chairman?”
Yang Taek-su rose, perhaps giving me time to gather my thoughts.
I called him back as he headed inside.
“Soon, I’ll head into Iraq’s sandstorms. Just like my father did in Frankfurt, Germany.”
“Chairman…?”
“I’d like you to come along then, Vice President Yang. And… confirm it for me. Whether this picture—navigating future crises with past experience—holds true.”
* * * *
Seosan, South Chungcheong Province.
Former Secretary Han Yul-san encountered Kim Won-cheol, dressed like a fisherman who’d just come from some lakeside.
He stood against the fierce sea wind like an old pine, as if another wide growth ring had formed in the interim. He looked even more aged.
“I must’ve been wrong. Only now does it sink in that the elderly should step away from the front lines.”
Han Yul-san’s face was grim.
Despite the chilly weather, as if warmed by liquor, he sat on a flat rock, chugging bottle after bottle.
“I should’ve seen that Han Hwa-gi might join hands with Han Deok-sul…”
“Aigoo, sir. That’s all over and done with. Let’s have one last drink and go. If you have more, I’ll catch hell from the missus too.”
“Enough! That hag’s nagging isn’t new…”
Han Yul-san sighed and gazed skyward.
The North Star shone mockingly bright. It seemed he’d finally realized his long-held misconception.
Like the North Star, he’d arrogantly thought his age and experience could guide the green successor right.
But the true North Star had been Han Seo-jun—the young whippersnapper he’d underestimated.
“In the end, the group I split apart with my own hands.”
“Come on, old man. That’s too much self-importance. If we hadn’t let Han Hwa-gi separate the affiliates, we’d already be in deep shit.”
“You damn punk, with that attitude…”
Han Yul-san started to snap but then bowed his head.
He poured the last of the liquor down his throat and cautiously spoke.
“Does the new chairman plan to reclaim the financial affiliates?”
“He does, sure.”
“Of course, it’ll be tough for a few years… But he’s young; once the group’s on solid ground, he can pursue the grand plan step by step.”
The old man tormented by guilt over carving up the group himself.
With a sigh, he stroked his white beard and let out a lament.
“Phew, I wonder if I’ll live to see it.”
“Aw, come on, old man. I wasn’t gonna say this, but… it’ll wrap up within the year, probably.”
Supporting the drunken Han Yul-san, Kim Won-cheol murmured softly.
Unlike the startled old man who halted in surprise, Kim Won-cheol’s face lit up with mischief.
“Not reclaim it—it’ll fall right into the chairman’s hands on its own. For starters… check the news next week. It’ll be quite the show.”