Chapter 9
Chapter 9
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: Kim Won-cheol (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
In front of her stretched the Han River, while behind her glittered the nightscape of Teheran Road, all visible from this luxury villa in Cheongdam-dong.
Reflected in the glass window was a woman wearing a white negligee.
Her expression seemed utterly drained, as if overwhelmed by something. She was Han Seo-hee, the youngest daughter of Han Hwa-gi, the Finance Headquarters Director.
“…….”
Arms crossed, Han Seo-hee gently swirled the wine glass in her right hand.
The red liquid moved freely on its own, mirroring the tangled mess of her inner thoughts.
“The eldest with nothing but ambition in his head, the second with absolutely nothing in his, and… oh no!”
Her snow-white negligee was now soaked through with spilled wine.
The red stain spread like a brand, seeping deeply between the fabric, as if reconfirming her precarious position.
“…and me, full of impossible dreams. We’re all hopeless in our own ways, aren’t we?”
Han Seo-hee’s face was etched with sorrow.
Born as the daughter of a chaebol family, she could have lived a life of ease, but she harbored ambitions of her own.
Finance.
She dreamed of becoming the top financial expert, one who could stand toe-to-toe with the wolves of Wall Street and the City of London.
Having earned her PhD in financial engineering from Wharton in the US and proven herself in the field, she had barely managed to join the front lines of management in the Confucian-traditional Han family of Ammunition Group.
But only just barely.
“Hoo… Even if Father becomes Chairman, the family council would never acknowledge me.”
Ammunition Capital, the company where Han Seo-hee worked.
That firm’s position within the group was exactly her own ceiling.
On paper, it claimed to be a financial affiliate, but in reality, it only handled installment and leasing for Ammunition Automobiles.
A truly frustrating spot. Just like her reflection in the glass—stained and damp.
The red wine had left a sticky residue even against her skin beneath the negligee.
Feeling weary at that moment, Han Seo-hee undressed and slipped into the whirlpool tub filled with soapy bubbles.
“The Chairman’s seat? I don’t even want that headache. But at least in finance… I should be the one…”
She didn’t need the Ammunition Group chairmanship. All she wanted was to lead a company operating on advanced Anglo-American financial systems.
But in the current setup, it was nothing more than a pipe dream.
*Knock knock!*
“Miss, I’ll be heading out now.”
The housekeeper, who came every other day, seemed to have finished cleaning.
Han Seo-hee waved a hand from behind the frosted glass in response.
“Thanks for your hard work, ma’am.”
“Oh, right. About what you mentioned earlier this afternoon…”
What she’d asked about during the day.
Han Seo-hee had read the minutes from the group’s morning executive meeting.
A mix of shock and disbelief washed over her.
The image of Han Seo-jun she’d known until now was that of a utterly incompetent illegitimate son, so she couldn’t easily accept what was written there.
She needed cross-verification from people around him, not just documents—what they’d seen and felt firsthand.
It was time to tap into the network among the Han family retainers from the main house.
“What did they say at the main house?”
“They say the man’s really changed, you know? Anyway, this dimwit suddenly got sharp overnight. Even the way the Director treats him…”
The remarks in the minutes, the evaluations from those around him—all pointed in the same direction.
That this wasn’t some puppet act; it was Han Seo-jun’s own abilities blooming.
“Han Seo-jun… He was rock bottom in bloodline and talent, so why?”
After sending the housekeeper off, Han Seo-hee rose from the whirlpool tub, her face flushed from the heat.
The sticky wine stain on her chest had long been washed clean. Along with that lingering unease she’d felt.
“People don’t change overnight, so… could he have been hiding his claws all this time?”
From suspicion to conviction, from conviction to curiosity, from curiosity… to anticipation.
Emerging from the bathroom, Han Seo-hee moved to her study.
Ignoring the slew of pending payment notifications, she pulled up files related to group personnel.
-[Strategy Director Han Seo-jun]
Wondering how those mostly blank details would fill in, she murmured to herself.
“He’s a tough one, our Seo-jun.”
* * * *
“That’s Strategy Director Han Seo-jun? He looks so young…. Isn’t he only twenty-five? Wow, he’s got guts.”
“Even if it’s his own grandmother, dancing with a sword right next to Seo Taehu like that. All the executives looked like fools.”
I could hear everything.
If they’re going to gossip, at least whisper so it doesn’t carry. Did they not realize the first-floor lobby had acoustics like an opera hall?
I’d ended up overhearing their chatter. Ever since yesterday’s incident, employees’ murmurs followed me everywhere like a shadow.
“I heard even Finance Headquarters Director Han Hwa-gi got shut down. You know KS Industries? Turns out that’s his slush fund… eek!”
Waiting for the elevator, I wondered why their local broadcast cut off so suddenly.
Turning around, there stood my uncle, his face frozen like a statue.
As a citizen of this ancient land of Eastern courtesy, a friendly morning greeting should be basic etiquette.
“Good morning, Uncle.”
“…You seem to be enjoying a good reputation. It’s crowded here—use the executive elevator.”
A sealed box. Just me and Uncle in the elevator.
In the stifling silence filling the narrow space, Uncle finally spoke.
“I didn’t expect that curveball. So all this time, you were just playing the fool startled by thunder, like Liu Bei.”
Uncle even quoted a Tale of the Three Kingdoms anecdote.
The gap between my past self and yesterday’s morning meeting must have been stark.
Heads fixed forward, we stared only at each other’s eyes reflected in the metal doors.
I responded to Uncle with another question.
“Wanting to be Cao Cao, are we? In the end, Cao Cao lived but never claimed the throne.”
“That seat was originally meant for my nephew, but circumstances have shifted a bit.”
Well, well…
I’d known from before my regression that Uncle was the one who’d propped me up as the bullet-sponge Chairman, but I hadn’t expected him to say it outright.
Ten years. Recalling that wrongful prison stint, my emotions surged for a moment, shattering my composure.
Eyes tensed, fists clenched with a wooden creak, lips pressed tight.
It was but an instant, yet Uncle didn’t miss my reaction.
“…More than I thought. So you knew that much too.”
Discomfort settled on Uncle’s face like frost on mourning clothes. His expression suggested he sensed the dice had been cast.
Uncle and I—we’d be facing each other across an uncrossable line.
*-45th floor. Doors opening.*
The elevator arrived just then at the Strategy Office floor.
I deliberately brushed past Uncle’s lapel, making a rustling sound as I stepped out.
Right before the doors closed, I turned and stared straight across that line, then spoke.
“I’ll go ahead, Headquarters Director. Have a good day. At least today.”
The doors shut with a mechanical growl.
Even as his image shrank from plane to line at the elevator’s center, I didn’t avert my gaze.
And I wouldn’t in the future either.
* * * *
A heated exchange with my elder. Just tried it—doesn’t seem great for the health.
Maybe because Uncle drained all my morning energy, I suddenly craved coffee bad.
“Caffeine… I need caffeine.”
The moment I got to the Strategy Office, the first thing I did was brew a strong espresso.
*-Chiiiik!*
Must’ve been exhausted. While waiting for the capsule in the machine, I muttered without thinking.
“Man, what a way to start the day. Gonna die already.”
“You can’t die yet. I was about to ask for a cup too.”
A middle-aged guy with half a bald head.
Compared to his prison visit before my regression, he still had some hair left.
His sturdy build and easygoing vibe belonged to…
“Heh heh heh… Since you’re brewing, make me one too. Let’s see what the Strategy Director’s coffee tastes like.”
“Uncle Kim Won-cheol?”
“Whoa? You already know me? Aw, spoils the fun….”
Kim Won-cheol slurped his coffee with exaggerated gusto, almost comically.
Seeing him face-to-face, it was hard to believe this was Father’s confidant.
His speech, his manner—looked every bit the loafer from some local fishing hole.
“Whew, bitter. So bitter. Already got an earful from that witch granny… I mean, the Director this morning, feeling sour, and now the coffee’s bitter too.”
“What’d she say, our witch granny?”
He’d already visited Grandmother before coming here.
More enigmatic than expected. Tough core under that casual exterior.
As my eyes narrowed slightly, he set down his cup, dropped the act, and got to the point.
“Huh? Oh, you heard that? Well, nothing much…”
The loafer’s grin lingered on his lips.
But his eyes had changed. That alone shifted the wide office’s atmosphere.
“She told me to play the loyal retainer role, but I said I couldn’t just go along with it.”
“Just… go along?”
“Meaning, this sprout in front of me looks all fresh and green on the meeting minutes.”
His clasped hands on the table propped up his chin as his face leaned toward me.
Like he wanted to pierce right through to my core.
“But whether the sprout’s truly green or not? Gotta check that myself, right? So she got mad, saying my head’s full of suspicion and doubt.”
“Whether the sprout’s green or not…”
Being tested first by someone.
Whether I proved myself or not, from a power dynamic standpoint, it wasn’t ideal.
Especially since the Strategy Office—high-ranking retainer role or not—was my base camp to lead.
I shouldn’t be dragged into a situation where Kim Won-cheol held the reins.
However…
‘Uncle Won-cheol… he’s the one who brought your mom and dad together. He’ll definitely help you out, Seo-jun.’
Mom’s words from just before work suddenly echoed in my mind.
The man who connected Mom and Dad—a likely ally for me.
In that case… I could afford to yield the first move this time.
Decision made, I nodded and pointed my right thumb at myself.
“Then go ahead and check. I’ve heard things too, so you can test me first.”
“Heh heh heh… Alright, how about a simple riddle then?”
Riddle.
Tossed out casually like a joke, but loaded with implications.
The Ammunition Group chairmanship.
As if he’d already sized up whether I fit the role.
Now, the question was how to claim it—that was the message in Kim Won-cheol’s query.
“Take this Ammunition Group. In its circular investment chain, where’s the weakest link?”