Kingmaker: An Election Born and Buried in Cash
The presidential race was one that began with money and ended with money. It demanded sums so colossal that ordinary folks couldn't even dream of them. The official spending limit for the 14th election was 36.7 billion won. The major candidates had self-reported using over 20 billion each. No one was naive enough to take those figures at face value.
"Add at least two more zeros."
"Come on! You have to multiply by three at minimum to get anywhere near the real amount!"
No one knew the exact scale. They just nursed their soju glasses, each adding a bit more to their imaginations. Unless you were a specific insider, there was no way to pinpoint the astronomical details of presidential campaign funds.
Of course, there was one exception: Min-ho.
In his previous life, as deputy director of the presidential secretariat, he'd personally handled funding for each candidate. His mind held crystal-clear data not just for this election, but the next one too. That 50 billion won wasn't pulled out of thin air. Calculating massive sums with precision was one of Min-ho's talents.
Pack a 20kg apple box tight with old 10,000-won bills, and you had exactly 250 million won. The 50,000-won notes hadn't been issued yet, and checks or promissory notes were as good as suicide. This was the best method available. 50 billion won required 200 apple boxes. Delivery would take 15 sedans. It was an unprecedented 차떼기—a bribe convoy like no other.
50 billion won. It wasn't a burden for Chairman Kang. Still, the shock came from Min-ho offering it without a moment's hesitation.
Chairman Kang grinned, pleased by his grandson's boldness. He lit his pipe and spoke.
"That rascal—true to his tiger cub blood, what a gutsy one he is."
"It's more than enough to run a presidential campaign."
"Aye, just 500 boxes to plant your man in the Blue House? A bargain at that price..."
"Compared to what our group stands to gain, it's just scraps of paper."
"Grandpa has one question, though."
He sipped the fresh coffee Moon Sang-oh had prepared and continued.
"Why 500 exactly? Not 100 or 200? Let Grandpa hear your math."
"In the last election, the Democratic Party candidate reported 15 billion won, the Republic Party 13.2 billion. The election commission cap was 30 billion."
"Right. Even then, folks called it nonsense, but verification was impossible."
"This time, the reported cap is 36.7 billion. So the candidates will likely self-report around 25 billion each."
"But they'll spend more in reality."
"Looking at the last race, parties aside, their actual funds don't differ much. Now, if we back Candidate Kim with 50 billion?"
Chairman Kang nodded, clearly liking Min-ho's logic.
"No need to guess—it tips the scales one way."
"People still think presidents are elected by votes. I don't."
"Tell Grandpa if your thinking matches mine."
Min-ho paused dramatically before replying.
"Presidents are decided by money. Grandpa holds that money. The winner depends on which house those apple boxes reach."
This wasn't flattery to please Chairman Kang. For two candidates in a dead heat, 50 billion won in cash from JK Group would flip the board overnight. Both had pulled every string to meet him, knowing full well he was the kingmaker. His choice would crown the Blue House's next master. And the biggest influence on that choice? Min-ho, with his razor-sharp analysis and bold decisions. Chairman Kang couldn't help but be satisfied. His lips curved up to his ears as he asked,
"Straight talk... You're saying if we back Dong-il, he's guaranteed the win?"
"With 50 billion and Se-min Shinmun steering public opinion, it's as good as done."
"If it's the same price, better Dong-il—he owes Grandpa in so many ways, and we skip the old humiliations."
Chairman Kang exhaled a puff of hazy smoke, glancing aside. Quick-witted Moon Sang-oh jumped in with details.
"The slightest move from you, sir, and the government slapped us with absurd regulations and pressure. Tax audits, prosecutorial probes—constant."
"Aye. The shame still boils my blood at night. You suffered plenty then, Sang-oh."
"No, sir. I was fine."
Patting Moon Sang-oh's shoulder, Chairman Kang pressed on.
"Fine, the amount's set. What's next?"
"Grandpa must never meet Candidate Kim directly. Avoid even phone calls if possible."
"I was looking forward to seeing Dong-il after all this time, sharing a drink—and now you pull Grandpa out of it?"
Min-ho smiled and placed a prepared camera on the table.
"We'll have insurance too."
"You mean gathering evidence?"
Usually, the desperate side prepared safeguards for the future. Here, Candidate Kim was desperate—not Min-ho. Chairman Kang couldn't grasp it. Evidence could backfire later.
"We'll film the handover process—and me meeting Candidate Kim."
"No need to grasp a double-edged sword yourself, lad. Grandpa sees it as poison."
"You always said prepare for the worst."
"Aye, always brace for a traitor or two."
"If it comes to that, I'll be the tail to cut off."
Whistleblowers could emerge anytime. Worst case, but Min-ho planned for it.
"So if things go south, our Min-ho takes the fall?"
"Mud like that washes off with a shower. In a few years, no one remembers."
"But evidence... They could hound us for five years."
"That's the double-edged sword you mentioned. But we hold the hilt. Candidate Kim swings it."
***
The presidency wielded immense power, but it was just a five-year elected post. Compared to JK Group's capital might, political power was a fleeting spark. Min-ho eyed not just the coming five years, but beyond. His meticulous plan had more aces.
"Making a president with Grandpa's hands ends there? It's just five years. After three, teeth and claws are gone."
"A paper tiger, flapping in every breeze."
"With this evidence, we block those winds."
"Yeouido, you mean?"
"Yes. We can snag the ruling party's nomination power too."
The nationwide local elections three years out seemed unrelated to the presidential race at first glance—but they were inseparable.
"Right before election season, we flash this evidence as a threat. What happens?"
If leaked pre-local elections, President Kim Dong-il would plummet into lame-duck status in year three. A shaky president drags his party MPs down too. Local candidates' polls tank, leading to a crushing defeat. Grip the evidence, and party nominations years later were ours. We could plant our people everywhere. Naturally, political foes of JK Group would vanish.
For a mere 50 billion won, we could seize the presidency and local elections. Gains were certain; worst case ended with Min-ho as the scapegoat. No one had ever pitched this to Chairman Kang. Even hearing it seemed unbelievable. A flawless scheme. He couldn't hide his admiration. Setting down his pipe, he clapped heartily, laughing loud—ending, as always, in coughs. Moon Sang-oh rushed water; he calmed at last.
"Aigoo, Grandpa can't live with a grandson like you. Aye, photos make it perfect leverage come election time."
"Nominations land in Grandpa's hands."
"Those gold-badge hounds will bow to any deal."
"Plus, plenty of MPs rode to Yeouido on Grandpa's money. Use them, and the legislature's ours in time."
Chairman Kang had long funded MPs to dodge regulations. Many made it to Yeouido, but results were meh—the Blue House's breath outmatched them. Now? 180 degrees turned. Kingmaker status, plus legislative grip. If it worked, nothing could hinder JK Group. Min-ho had sliced away every old shackle. Cost? Just 50 billion won.
Like decades of pent-up phlegm cleared, Chairman Kang beamed with relief and joy, caressing Min-ho's cheeks. Satisfaction filled his face; love overflowed his eyes.
"Sang-oh, what do you think of our boy's masterstroke?"
"Turning evidence into a reverse weapon—I never imagined it."
"Right, Min-ho's spot on. A hundred times right. Presidents are made with money anyway. 500 boxes... Three days enough?"
"Yes. Plenty for cars and cash prep."
"Go make sure Dong-il meets well."
"Understood."
Chairman Kang had missed one thing: Min-ho, not Moon Sang-oh, had to go.
"Grandpa, you overlooked something."
"If my boy wants it, Grandpa's game. Speak."
"I'll go, not Moon Sang-oh."
Chairman Kang couldn't easily allow it. If botched, Min-ho truly became the sacrifice. He shook his head firmly.
"Not this time—Grandpa won't have it. Sending you there? Unthinkable."
"Moon Sang-oh's trustworthy, no doubt. But to the world? Would they buy him as the tail?"
Chairman Kang couldn't deny it. He nodded slowly.
"A tail like that? No one'd believe it."
"It's a job for someone with Grandpa's blood."
Min-ho gripped his hand tight.
"I've never been stubborn. Always followed your words. You know that?"
"Aye, my boy obeys this old man like a saint."
"This once, let me. It has to be me. Worst case won't happen—I promise."
The odds were slim, but to Grandpa, it felt like sending his boy to slaughter. Chairman Kang stared deep into Min-ho's eyes, lost in thought. Boldness, drive, eloquence—no replacement. Unique, essential to seal the plan. Another candidate winning? Past nightmares redux. No choice. With heavy effort, he nodded.
"Funds ready in three days. Go with Sang-oh."