Briquette Tongs in One Hand
Chairman Kang appeared, briquette tongs clutched in one hand. To them, these men were no different from heinous traitors. The three publishers and three chief editors begged for their lives.
"We're sorry, Chairman."
"We're reflecting on our actions."
"We've committed a mortal sin, Chairman. Forgive us."
They had to somehow sway Chairman Kang's heart. They pleaded ceaselessly for mercy. Chairman Kang simply stared at them wordlessly. Reading his mood, Butler Moon spoke quietly.
"Please be silent. The Chairman will speak."
His words fell on deaf ears. They kept begging without pause.
"We're sorry, Chairman."
"Truly sorry."
"Just spare us."
With Moon Sang-oh first seeking Chairman Kang's permission, he bellowed, "Quiet!"
The room fell instantly silent, as if doused with cold water. Perhaps his legs had gone numb, but President An of Seyoung Newspaper subtly tried to rise. Moon pressed down on his shoulder with a quiet warning.
"If you stand, you might die."
Startled, President An dropped back to his knees. Holding the same position for three hours was no easy feat. They furtively glanced up, gauging Butler Moon's expression.
"If any of you speak from this moment on, you'll regret it for the rest of your lives. Choose wisely."
With his warning delivered, Moon stepped back discreetly. Chairman Kang said nothing. He slowly scanned the faces of the kneeling sinners. Dragging the tongs behind him, he shifted his position. President An, who knew full well what this seemingly trivial tool signified, couldn't help but flinch in terror.
Chairman Kang stopped before him.
"How's Jeong-man been?"
"Y-yes... Chairman, have you been well?"
Chairman Kang let out a hollow chuckle.
"Well... I was, if it weren't for beggars like you."
"We're sorry. We never intended—"
From behind, Moon raised a finger to his lips—shut up. President An clamped his own mouth shut with his hand and stared at Chairman Kang.
"It must've been twenty-three years since we first met."
"Y-yes... I remember it clearly."
"Even then, my temper was foul. Honestly, if you couldn't pay up on time, I'd drag you up the mountain."
Chairman Kang extended his hand; Moon handed him a cigarette and lit it.
"Not with a shovel, mind you—this tongs. I'd make you dig with these. Every single one begged on their knees, promising to pay, unable to dig past their ankles."
"Y-yes, Chairman."
"You've heard plenty of those tales yourself."
"Y-yes, Chairman, I know."
"If you're going to run a story, why not something like that? Why drag up illegal interest rates that don't even hold water? Do my eyes look like those of a petty cheapskate obsessed with pocket change?"
"We're sorry. That was never our intent."
"Intent doesn't matter if the result is the same."
Chairman Kang squatted down, meeting his gaze. He glanced between the tongs' tip and President An's face.
"I'm planning to kill you all with these tongs anyway. If you want to change my mind, do it now—shake me, if you can."
A man who spared no means to achieve his goals. Those who knew his past could only tremble in near-death fear. Hands shaking, President An replied cautiously.
"I'll explain why we ran that story. Honestly, The Times kept scooping us, tanking our sales and ads."
"What a petty, backstabbing lot..."
"Desperate for an angle, we saw JK Group's ads in The Times and targeted you first."
Chairman Kang nodded and turned to Chief Editor Han Gil-seong beside him.
"Gil-seong, have I ever treated you so poorly as to breed resentment?"
"Never."
"I don't recall deals in Myeong-dong... but lately, my grandson slipped you some pocket money via car fleet bribes."
"We handled it to the best of our ability then."
Chairman Kang grabbed the chief editor's hair, yanking his face close.
"We treated you well... so is it resentment over The Times? Or losing your grip on public opinion?"
"Both... everything. We feared losing influence ahead of the election."
"No effort to climb higher—just pulling down the tall. Well... life throws all sorts."
He surveyed the six heads bowed low.
"I put calves in the field to work, and they charge the master? What to do with them?"
The six cried out in unison: "We're sorry, Chairman!"
"No need for sorries. If ears won't hear, pierce the nostrils and drag 'em."
One hand tongs, the other cigarette. This was the old loan shark Kang Jin-gwang. He yearned to handle it like the old days, but with Min-ho watching from the living room, he held back.
"Hey, Yoon Mun-sik of Dongyoung Daily."
"Yes, Chairman!"
"I'll personally tell you how to save your skin. Can you manage?"
"Yes! Anything!"
"Good... You hold Seyoung shares, right?"
A crack formed in the fortress of the three major dailies, bound by blood ties and stakes.
"Pardon? Chairman? Yes, I do."
Without answering, Chairman Kang turned to President Choi Ji-il of Minkook Daily at the end.
"You too, right?"
"Yes."
Don't let the hyenas regroup—tear them apart. Heeding Min-ho's advice, Chairman Kang proceeded.
"You two hand over all those shares, and you're spared. Promise."
"What? What do you mean?"
"Deaf? Sang-oh, use the tongs to clean out their ears."
It sounded like a joke, but Chairman Kang always kept his word. As the stern-faced butler approached, the two, knowing his past, flailed their arms.
"No, no! We heard you!"
"Heard? Then answer, don't make me repeat. What, I ask for shares for free?"
"No. It's just... awkward."
"Spit it out."
"Well... my second daughter married into Seyoung Newspaper..."
Handing shares to Chairman Kang meant betrayal in their blood-tied world. The fire on their feet spread through their bodies. No time to be picky.
"Did I arrange your daughter's marriage? Stand as matchmaker?"
"No."
"Hand over your shares, and things get awkward for you. But that's not my problem. You swung at my neck—fair trade demands a limb or two."
"That... we'd need to consult our legal team..."
"You're the president. Decide here. You too, President Choi of Minkook."
Now for the main course. President An of Seyoung trembled in horror. His 20% stake—once Chairman Kang took the others, seizing control was just a matter of time.
"Looks like your head's spinning with schemes..."
Seyoung could defend control, but it meant direct confrontation with Chairman Kang. A game with zero odds.
One last plea for life: "Chairman, truly sorry. I must've lost my mind. Please reconsider this."
"That mind should've returned sooner. Too late now."
"Chairman, Seyoung was founded under Japanese rule, enduring hardships for national pride to reach here."
Chairman Kang blew smoke in his face.
"True, your granddad chanted for the Emperor, sucking Korean blood dry. Now you play straight-faced 'upright paper.' Wrong?"
"............."
"I'll take Seyoung. Stay quiet if you want to keep your rice bowl."
To defend, Seyoung would sell real estate or borrow—but sales took time, loans he'd block. Game over before it started. Teeth gritted against an unbeatable foe. Infuriating, but futile. Snatching a paper was child's play for him. So why now? He needed pretext.
Companies hating JK's growth, government, now these three dailies—carpet bombing. Ankle-grab when advancing, shoulder-hold when sitting. Even he couldn't beat the government.
Times changed. Lame-duck president, paper tiger. Candidates eyed him for funds. Min-ho's rise, perfect pretext—balances aligned.
Sudden shift. As Min-ho said, kingmaker was now Chairman Kang.
"Why I stayed buried? You know—the Blue House tenant has months left. Think that guy's saving his own skin can protect you?"
The force he couldn't crush before now stretched fully. The six kneeling couldn't deny the tide had turned. Heads bowed, silent.
"I'll acquire Seyoung. You two from Dongyoung and Minkook..."
"Yes, Chairman."
"...print negative JK stories, and I'll dig your graves with these tongs."
"We'll remember."
"Transfer shares this week. Fair price."
"Understood..."
As Chairman Kang turned, President Choi Ji-il of Minkook cautiously asked, "Chairman... sorry, but can we still get our paper and ink supply?"
Irritated, Chairman Kang tossed the tongs.
"Double your usual price—then yes."
"But..."
"Problem?"
"No, but double hits us hard."
He flicked his cigarette butt to the floor, grinding it underfoot.
"Said it: limbs for profit."
"..........."
"From now on, no promissory notes anywhere. Wise choice."
"What?"
"Your notes? Already blocked from Myeong-dong circulation."
Nails in the coffin, concrete poured, tower built atop. Like grandson, like grandfather. Chairman Kang had prepared to ensure they never rose again. Harsher than a death sentence.
Before the Seongbuk-dong residence lay a few cigarette butts and the tongs, abandoned.
"Can't stand your ugly mugs—get lost."
"Chairman! Mercy!"
"Chairman!"
Desperate cries at his back, but time wouldn't turn. With the crisis resolved, Min-ho had cleansed Chairman Kang's long-buried grudge. But Min-ho wasn't one to stop at a new recruit. He hurried off to the next plan.