Lingering Suspicions
It was still an era when political power held a slight edge over capital. The fate of JK Group for the next five years would hinge entirely on which candidate they chose and backed with funds. There were two frontrunners. The polls were razor-thin. No one dared venture a rash prediction. Whether JK Group surged ahead or got bogged down by regulations and policies, reduced once more to a toothless giant—it all rested on this one decision.
Even Chairman Kang Jin-gwang, lord of all he surveyed, couldn't afford a hasty call. Backing the loser would unleash a endless backlash. No matter how he racked his brain, no clear answer emerged.
The chairman's choice wasn't the presidential candidates from the ruling or opposition parties. He placed his trust in Min-ho, who always pulled off the unexpected masterstroke. Then he handed him the knife that was Se-min Newspaper's management rights. Now all that remained was to watch and wait.
Kang Jin-gwang listened intently to his grandson's words, slipping a piece of braised beef into his mouth. "There are two frontrunners. Representative Kim Dong-il of the Daehan Party and Representative Kim Seong-un of the Minguk Party."
The third-place candidate was polling over 10%, so he couldn't be ignored. Kang Jin-gwang tilted his head curiously at Min-ho's words. "Grandpa thinks we can't dismiss Choi Joo-young in third either. Is there some special reason?"
"No need to widen the options unnecessarily."
"So you're saying there's another play."
"Yes. Aside from those two, the rest won't even get a mention."
"Deliberately excluding them entirely..."
The chairman nodded, tapping ash from his cigarette. Min-ho pressed on. "No point investing in long shots. We'll prune the branches and force a simple choice: one or the other."
"Right. So in my grandson's eyes, who should Grandpa pick?"
Without a moment's hesitation, Min-ho replied, "Representative Kim Dong-il of the Daehan Party."
Kang Jin-gwang cocked his head. "Could it be... you still remember that old business?"
"Yes, as clear as yesterday."
Min-ho alone knew who would claim the Blue House. In truth, even without any moves from him, Kim Dong-il would win. But Min-ho had other reasons for going this far—to build even deeper trust with the chairman and gradually increase his reliance on him.
At some point, when deciding major group matters, the chairman had started consulting not his eldest son Du-seong, but Min-ho. This election was no different. In the past, he might have picked a candidate and funneled funds. Now, he'd boldly chosen Min-ho.
Through the chairman, Min-ho had seized control of Korea's top newspaper, Se-min Newspaper. It was as good as running both The Times and Se-min. He could shape and control public opinion outright. And if he seated the chairman's preferred candidate in the Blue House? The trust would be ironclad—worth dozens of affiliates handed over on a platter.
Drawing on memories from his past life, Min-ho had the chairman utterly enchanted. "You remember Representative Kim Dong-il. He used to visit Grandpa's house often when I was little."
"You remember that from when you were a kid?"
"Yes. I recall what you two talked about and what you gave him. But I was too young to know exactly what it was."
"What do you think Grandpa gave Dong-il?"
"If I had to guess, election funds. That was when he first won his seat in Yangsan."
Min-ho was simply leveraging what he knew of the chairman and Kim's relationship. Meanwhile, Executive Director Kim, Director Mo, Butler Moon, and Lawyer Choi—all listening in—could only marvel once more at Min-ho's prodigious memory.
"How can someone so young remember such fine details... It's nothing short of miraculous."
"Grandpa, you'll choose Representative Kim Dong-il. It's far better for our group too."
"Exactly. I've had his back since his first term. For the same price, he's the smoother bet. Even my grandson sees it that way?"
"Yes. And there's one more thing."
The chairman, now fully hooked, straightened up to listen closely. "What if Candidate Kim Seong-un of the Minguk Party loses? Butler Moon, what do you think?"
The unexpected question gave Moon Sang-oh pause, but he answered cautiously. "If he loses, I doubt he'll bounce back."
"That's the conventional wisdom. But let's push further. Who's the frontrunner for the next election?"
"That's five years out. I wouldn't dare speculate."
The chairman's eyes sparkled brighter than ever. This election mattered, of course. But Min-ho was thinking ahead to the next one—a blind spot even for him. He set down his chopsticks, ignoring the braised beef before him, utterly captivated by his grandson's brilliance.
"Candidate Kim Seong-un will retire from politics after losing. What then, Grandpa?"
"His political clout gone, he'll probably hole up in some temple."
"No. The next Blue House master will be Representative Kim Seong-un. As you said, after a loss, no one will touch him."
"Reach out when he's down and desperate?"
"Yes. Then for the next decade, JK Group dodges every major regulation and law."
Future events, true or not—it didn't matter to the chairman. He couldn't help but be satisfied with Min-ho's unwavering conviction.
Min-ho turned to Executive Director Kim Si-hyeong. "Guess I should call you President Kim now?"
"Hearing 'executive director' so long, 'president' feels odd. But sure."
"You'll shape the backbone at The Times. That's how we'll steer opinion—keep that in mind."
"Anything to help the chairman. I'd hand my liver and gall to the Dragon King himself."
"We'll have opinion locked down. No worries. I'll make sure Representative Kim Dong-il takes the Blue House."
The chairman, thoroughly bewitched like a fox's prey, overflowed with joy. He shot to his feet, proposing a toast. "Come on! To JK Group—toast!"
"Yes, Chairman."
"To JK Group!"
***
Seongbuk-dong. Despite heavy drinking the night before, Chairman Kang Jin-gwang rose at 6 a.m. sharp, ready for his mountain hike. Butler Moon saw him to the gate, politely handing over his cane.
"I'm off."
"Breakfast will be ready."
Nodding, the chairman eyed Moon closely. His loyalty was unmatched, yet oddly, he always refused the hike. "Force it and it'll be a chore... Change your mind, join anytime."
"My apologies."
"No need. Rest up, read the papers."
"Safe travels."
Moon bowed until the chairman rounded the corner and vanished from sight. Only then did he straighten. It was his fleeting alone time each day.
He had a stubborn habit: one cigarette every morning. He pulled one from his pocket, glanced around, and lit up. Inhaling deeply, he exhaled toward the sky.
Bending to pick up the newspaper from the yard, he sensed movement. No one came at this hour. Thinking the chairman forgot something, Moon stubbed out the smoke and opened the gate.
An unexpected guest: Du-seong. Moon feigned calm despite his surprise. "President, what brings you so early?"
"Sounds like I'm not welcome."
"Not at all. Please don't misunderstand."
"Father's off to the mountain?"
"Yes. Breakfast is prepping. Please, come in."
"No need. I came when he's out—let's talk out front."
"Understood."
The sudden visit and Du-seong's grim expression spelled trouble. Moon knew what was coming but stayed silent, simply following to the car.
Du-seong offered a cigarette casually. "Have one."
"No, thank you."
"I know I'm interrupting your time. No need to refuse."
"Very well."
Du-seong lit Moon's cigarette, then lit his own. "You know I see you sideways?"
"Being at the chairman's side invites suspicion. It's a position I chose knowing full well."
"Who else could claim it? Cut to the chase—one question."
Du-seong exhaled a long plume, killing the engine as if the hum grated. "The Se-min Newspaper president appointment—who's behind it? You know."
"Yes."
"Hope it's not the answer I think."
"Purely the chairman's judgment. Nothing more I can say."
Du-seong, already convinced it was Moon, wouldn't hear it straight. "Nothing to say... Yeah, even I'd say that in your shoes."
"With the election looming, the chairman weighed it carefully. I understand your feelings, but that's all."
"Fine, whatever. Lately, I've got this weird vibe..."
"If I know, I'll tell you."
Du-seong turned, tapping Moon's cheek. "Father hasn't called me. Phone calls feel dodged on purpose."
"The chairman never ordered that. Must be a misunderstanding."
"Misunderstanding? You said that?"
"No reason to lie to you."
"No reason, but motives change the story..."
Moon Sang-oh had once been chief of staff. The chairman, spotting his talent early, wanted him close—offering the butler role, which Moon accepted gladly. But to Du-seong and his siblings, and the world, it looked bad. Rumors flew that he'd taken it to skim slush funds from the chairman's safe. Unprovable, but always an eyesore as father's constant shadow.
Du-seong clung to his suspicions of Moon. Grievances he couldn't voice to his father had piled up over years. Doubt and unease, fueled by greed, became explosive. He'd concluded Moon swayed the chairman's decisions.
"The rumors aren't true. If they were, I wouldn't be here."
"I'll take your word—for now. But Father I know wouldn't make that choice."
"I don't follow."
Fury boiling, Du-seong slammed the wheel with both fists. "Someone's influencing Father's decisions! I can't accept this!"
As a son craving paternal love, his instincts hit close. Min-ho, not Moon, swayed the chairman. Suspicion bred rage; rage birthed desire. Lost to greed, reason long gone. Even truth from Moon wouldn't sway him—and belief would spark disaster. Moon resolved to bear it alone.
"To be precise: I have no sway over the chairman."
Hands trembling on the wheel, Du-seong grabbed Moon's collar. "Talk straight... while I'm asking nice."
"It's undeniable fact. Without lying, that's my only answer."
Du-seong glared murderously, dropping a loaded line. "Guess there's one way to confirm."
"Even killing me changes nothing."
"We'll see... in time."
"Then I'll prepare the chairman's meal."
Moon took Du-seong's hands, set them down gently, and exited. He bowed and headed inside quietly. With only vague hunches, Du-seong had no real move. He glared at Moon's retreating back long after, then left.
Meanwhile, the overindulgence-hit chairman cut his hike short. From the alley corner, he'd witnessed it all.