Episode 169: One Trillion Won
The quiet hush of Soseonjae was shattered by the ringing phone bell, and an employee politely lifted the receiver.
“Soseonjae, Lee Hyun-kyung speaking. Yes? Yes, understood. We'll have everything ready on time.”
Hastily hanging up, the employee hurried straight to Gu Eun-chae's office.
“President, I have something to report.”
“Who's trying to eat our little Hyun-kyung alive? Why are you so tense?”
“It's not that. Athena called—they'll arrive this afternoon.”
“Then just do it like always. What's wrong? Something up?”
“The Minister of Land, Infrastructure and Transport, Yuk Dong-heon, is attending.”
Unlike before, when they'd given plenty of notice, this was a sudden same-day reservation. And with a minister no less.
Min-ho and the Ministry of Land... What's he up to this time?
She racked her brains to piece it together, but nothing clicked. Min-ho was definitely cut from a different cloth than the usual big shots. Impossible to predict where or when he'd zig or zag.
The employee stared at the deeply thoughtful Eun-chae before cautiously calling out. “President! President?”
“Oh... yeah, Hyun-kyung.”
“What had you so lost in thought? Are you feeling unwell today?”
“No, nothing. You know the menu by heart now anyway. Set it up in the annex, not the main hall.”
“Got it. I'll do that.”
Curious about Min-ho's intentions, Eun-chae urgently called back the turning employee. “Hyun-kyung, wait! I'll clean the annex myself—you handle the other stuff.”
“No, President, you're busy. Let me do it.”
“It's fine. It's been ages since I stretched my legs like this.”
“Okay. Just let me know if you need anything.”
“Sure. Keep the food light, you know?”
“Yes, ma'am.”
Eun-chae headed straight to the main building. She quietly opened a secret wall cabinet known only to her. Inside were bugging devices airlifted from Japan. Tucking one against her chest, she made for the annex.
Min-ho will ask for the annex anyway, so I can eavesdrop on whatever they talk about today.
Having personally installed the bug and cleaned up, Eun-chae returned to her office smugly and wrapped up her work.
A few hours later, she glanced at the clock and rose. She stepped out through the front gate. Just then, Min-ho's car pulled in.
Eun-chae greeted him with a bright smile. “Min-ho! Come on in.”
“Sorry for the last-minute booking. Hope it's not too much trouble.”
“Don't say such harsh things. If you're busy, you could've just shown up without calling.”
“Thank you.”
Eun-chae's gaze shifted to Lawyer Choi. “Oh, Lawyer Choi! You came too? Thanks for driving.”
Choi replied with a nod and stepped back, eyes fixed on his documents.
Sensing something off on instinct, Eun-chae probed casually as she led them in. “Looks like something big today. Sudden reservation, and even busy Lawyer Choi...”
“Just some business.”
“Anything I can't know about?”
She batted her eyes playfully, tail wagging—her usual trick that worked every time. But not on Min-ho. He didn't even glance her way.
“Yeah. Something you can't know.”
“Ouch, Min-ho, so cold. Not even a hint?”
Ignoring her flirtation, he scanned the main building intently. “As you know, this is a minister-level meeting. Main hall, please—not the annex.”
“What? Not the annex?”
Min-ho was now certain something was up. He continued calmly. “Why so surprised? Hiding a honey pot or something?”
“No, of course not. We've got twenty minutes till the appointment—plenty of time. I'll get it ready quick. Have a seat here.”
Turning away, Eun-chae bit her lower lip hard. Min-ho was like a spring-loaded rugby ball—bouncing unpredictably, words and moves impossible to foresee. She'd dealt with countless power players, but his mind was a black box.
I've got a hundred IQ points on instinct, but no way he'd know this. The timing's eerie, though...
Min-ho approached Choi, still glued to the documents. “You can stop now. You've reviewed it plenty.”
“First time handling this kind of sum, so I was double-checking.”
“This isn't some old-school sweet-talk negotiation. No need to worry.”
Fiddling with his pen for a long moment, Choi asked, “Young master... any specifics from Hyoja-dong on the figure?”
“Very possible. They'll have set an upper limit.”
“How much do you figure?”
“It'll match what I'm expecting, high probability. Anything more, and the bellybutton debt explodes—they'll scrap the plan.”
“Understood. All set. This way, please.”
***
Eun-chae opened the door demurely. “The minister has arrived.”
Minister of Land, Infrastructure and Transport Yuk Dong-heon stepped in. Min-ho rose, offering a handshake with confident poise.
“Hello. Athena President Kang Min-ho.”
He'd expected someone his age, but Min-ho's youth stunned the minister. Even a rough tally of the marts, land, and media—billions in assets. And the president was a kid like his nephew.
Dazed, Yuk shook his hand. “I... Minister Yuk Dong-heon of Land, Infrastructure and Transport.”
“Thank you for coming all this way. Figured you'd want to eat first.”
“Aigoo, this is too much—don't know where to put myself.”
Seated, Yuk's mind grew more tangled. Most execs bowed heads to him. Not Min-ho. His bold eyes and tone had the minister on the back foot. Couldn't quite pin it, but this was no ordinary player—gut instinct screamed it.
The president had named a specific sum. Failed talks here meant kissing his minister hat goodbye. Yuk wet his throat with a drink to mask his nerves and broached the topic.
“You've got a sharp eye for land. If it's not rude, before our plans lock in—what's the special reason for snapping up all this?”
“Security reasons—can't say. My apologies.”
Min-ho nodded, and Choi promptly piled massive stacks of property registries on the table.
The outcome was already sealed anyway. No need to rub in weaknesses.
Min-ho cut straight to it. “I hear you've been to Hyoja-dong.”
“How... how do you know that?”
“Common sense: for this deal, you'd need approval above your pay grade, right?”
“True. No point hiding what you already know.”
“Did they mention a specific figure?”
Min-ho, who knew President Kim Dong-il's style inside out, had the full picture.
“Security—for who you met and what was said, can't disclose.”
“Fine. Without all this land, Line 6 Subway can't break ground. Of course, with fair compensation, I'm open to changing my mind.”
“What figure did you have in mind?”
“Too high, and plans cancel. Too low, doesn't cover my costs. Why don't you propose first?”
Dragging on Athena's say-so would trash his face and job. Already cowed by Min-ho's momentum, Yuk fiddled with his cup before speaking heavily.
“We've assessed your holdings. Realistic price: 600 billion won.”
Min-ho wouldn't bite the baited lowball.
“Environmental impact review wrapped two months ago, right?”
“Yes. True.”
“Route hits Yongsan-gu, Itaewon-dong, Seongbuk-gu—tons of granite bedrock.”
“How do you know that?”
“Push too hard on comp, change plans? Bigger granite hell awaits. You know?”
Line 6 was infamous for tough construction. Itaewon, Yaksu, Bomun, Anam stations—solid granite slabs. Nightmarish work; even pros balked. Contractor swapped three times before finish.
Min-ho nailed it. Even reroute, granite dooms normal progress. Ministry had to buy him out, like it or lump it.
When landless Min-ho dropped “granite,” Yuk paled. “How do you know so precisely?”
“Save time—restate comp? Six hundred's a bit low.”
“We're trying to max it out...”
“Mind if I guess His Excellency's thinking?”
Couldn't know exact directive, but president obsessed over polls. Seoul's population booming. Delays? Media hammers incompetence. Piecing it: Kim likely offered just what Min-ho wanted.
No fluff—he raised one finger. “Exactly one. One trillion.”
Yuk nodded unwittingly, like seeing a ghost. “Subway's the people's lifeline. Don't want overcomp gumming the works—that's the honest truth.”
“No more demands after this?”
“Right. I want smooth groundbreaking too. But think hard: failed talks, who loses more?”
Min-ho needed the payday too—no desperation shown, though.
Final pitch to the trapped minister. “Last question: accept my proposal?”
Stepping into Soseonjae was the trap snapping shut. President's “handle quick” order. Hard-won title. Post-term life too. No choice.
Cold sweat trickled down his spine. One word hung everything. Face flushed, heart racing wild. Yuk dabbed forehead sweat with tissue, nodded.
“Let's do it.”
“Wise choice. Thank you.”
Choi's docs signed—deal done.
Yuk rose. “Gotta report back—heading out.”
“Yes. Thanks for your time. One more thing...”
“Yes? Personal?”
“Keep this quiet for now? Remember, I'm Athena head and The Times owner.”
Polite threat only a media baron could make. Seasoned Yuk got it.
“Understood. No worries.”
Yuk left first in his car. Tension broken, Choi slumped into his seat. “Young master... thought I'd die of nerves.”
“I'm the one negotiating—why are you tense?”
“Never handled sums like this.”
“Bigger ones coming. Sit tight. Gonna chat with President Gu.”
He approached Eun-chae, back from seeing off Yuk. “Oh, Min-ho! How'd it go? You look pleased.”
“That proposal last time—still on the table?”
Grinning girlishly, thrilled, she laughed. “Of course! Wait—Min-ho, you decided?”
“Maybe. But I need your answer first.”
“To what? Don't tell me...”
“Not what you're thinking.”
Min-ho glanced around, leaned to her ear, voice low. “Wiretap. Who knows besides you?”