Controlled Protests
***
The full-scale plan to propel Athena's Beom-seong into the Seoul mayoral seat was now underway. Day after day, the press hammered away at the current mayor's scandals, ramping up the pressure. Articles about Beom-seong had appeared, but there was still no real reaction. Jo Dong-uk, president of More Times, wore a cloud of worry on his face at the unexpectedly cold response. He let out a long sigh, about to give his report, when Min-ho smiled and spoke up.
"You'll wear yourself out at this rate. Did you have breakfast?"
"Food's not the issue right now. I figured there'd be at least some buzz around President Kang Beom-seong by now..."
"You mean you didn't expect it to be this stone-cold ignored?"
"Yes. Even at worst, I thought we'd get a dozen follow-up pieces. Feels like we've been completely shut out."
Choi Jong-hoon, who had been sitting quietly beside them, chimed in with his own take. "I agree—this plan needs some tweaks. We might succeed in pressuring the government, but we won't get our guy into City Hall at this rate."
Min-ho was a master of media manipulation. He'd foreseen even this scenario.
"You're right. No denying it. But you two are missing one key point."
Choi had racked his brains but came up empty. "Are you saying the real goal of this plan is something else?"
"No. You need to lower your expectations to see it."
"I'm not sure I follow."
"Is Kang Beom-seong a celebrity? Or some big name in the business world?"
"He's no entertainer, and as you said, he's never drawn much attention in industry circles."
"Put it simply: Kang Beom-seong is just the third son of JK Group. Nothing more."
Beom-seong had accomplished nothing on his own. If anything, he'd lucked out by being born to the right father.
"How could the first bite fill you up? He's not even a politician yet. Isn't that asking too much?"
"You're right, sir. I got ahead of myself."
"The public needs time to turn their heads and start looking for someone. Push too hard, and you'll just fatigue them."
"So what should we do?"
Min-ho stood and pulled a few sheets from his desk drawer, handing them over. "We're staging controlled protests at the Blue House and Seoul City Hall. With some well-timed interviews thrown in."
Controlled protests. Dressed up nicely, it was just blowing smoke. Bluntly put, it was buying public opinion. The perfect way to squeeze both the Blue House—mulling a dismissal—and the current mayor—fiddling with his resignation card.
Jo jolted at the unbelievable suggestion. "Controlled protests are doable, of course. But if we're caught, it'll be irreversible disaster."
"Scared of maggots, you gonna swear off soybean paste stew forever? You know this isn't just about making a mayor—there's massive interests at stake."
"I know the huge stakes involved. Really... you think we can pull this off?"
"I've scripted the interviews down to the details. Just follow it."
"What about the other rumored candidates?"
"Lim Su-jong, Nam Bong-gwan, Choi Su-in, Han Jae-jin, Choi Jeong-young—five in total. Take one down per day. Dump them all at once, and Kang Beom-seong gets pushed out of the spotlight."
Slipping craftily between illegal and legal, Min-ho advanced step by step toward his goal.
He handed Jo a slip with an address. "Keep publishing articles as scheduled, and in three hours, send reporters here. Include those protesters lying in front of the main gate."
"Got it."
Wrapping up, Min-ho grabbed his coat and stood. Choi eyed the sudden departure curiously. "Young master, do you have some schedule I don't know about?"
"Just popping over to see my uncle. Once the Seoul thing kicks off, it'll be hard to catch him."
Min-ho hopped into his car and headed straight for JK Securities, where Beom-seong was.
***
JK Securities.
Beom-seong had his feet propped up on the desk, grinning with satisfaction at his article in The Times.
"Min-ho knows how to hype a nobody like me. Pushing me this hard—who knows, maybe I really will end up Seoul mayor."
Right on cue, an employee entered for a report. Beom-seong, beaming unusually wide, waved cheerfully.
"You look happy today. Seeing our Kim smiling ear to ear is a treat."
"Thank you, sir. Here's the report you asked for."
"Good work. Everything okay? No troubles lately?"
"Serving a man who might become Seoul mayor? Even if it's tough, I'd say no."
"You sure know how to sweet-talk."
Kim lowered his voice conspiratorially. "President, it's not just anywhere—it's front-page in The Times. You really gonna make it big?"
"Heavens no, I wouldn't dream it. Just being mentioned is gratitude enough."
"But what if...?"
"Hey, at least it feels like flying first-class. What the hell, good mood."
He emptied his wallet of cash and handed it over. "Everyone's been swamped—drinks on me after."
"Thank you, sir."
"Good job. Head out."
As Kim turned to leave, the door flew open, revealing Du-seong's furious scowl.
"Kim, mind giving us the room?"
"Yes, sir. Fresh coffee?"
"No. No one enters till I leave."
"Understood."
Du-seong hadn't even properly fought back before Min-ho had severed his limbs one by one. Desperate, he'd played his final card: scooping up JK stock through foreign capital. For that, he needed Beom-seong's connections.
He'd waited a week, neck craning, but no word. Crossing his legs on the sofa, Du-seong vented his irritation bluntly.
"So now that your mug's in the papers, my words sound like dogshit?"
"Big bro, it's not like that. I've been busy, as you know..."
Du-seong slammed his fist on the table. Beom-seong, out of excuses, clamped his mouth shut.
"Quit beating around the bush like a damn girl. Straight talk—did you even mention it to them?"
"Calm down and hear me out first."
"Calm? That shit coming from you?"
Straddling the line between Min-ho and Du-seong, Beom-seong was in a bind. He didn't know which way to lean, but the scales tipped toward Min-ho, who dangled the mayoralty. They weren't the type to cut ties forever.
Scratching his head awkwardly for a long moment, Beom-seong finally confessed. "Truth is, the day big bro came last time? Min-ho dropped by an hour later."
"What the hell was Min-ho doing here?"
"Showed up out of nowhere, told me to prep for Seoul mayor."
"So this is another of Min-ho's setups?"
"He called Dad too, so I'm not sure who's really behind it."
It felt like a noose tightening slowly. Frustrating, but as the older brother, he couldn't just blame the younger one. He'd had time and chances but underestimated Min-ho—and now it was boomeranging around his own neck.
In the heavy silence, Kim burst back in. "President, big trouble!"
Irritated, Du-seong snapped at the innocent man. "Didn't I say no one enters?"
"Sorry, it's urgent... News first."
The TV flickered on, showing protesters on screen. Min-ho's controlled demonstration, of course.
[Protests demanding the resignation of Seoul Mayor Im Tae-hyuk are underway in front of Seoul City Hall and the Blue House.]
[Amid ongoing corruption scandals in the mayor's office, interest is surging in JK Securities President Kang Beom-seong, known for his major contributions to establishing the financial real-name system.]
[President Kang Beom-seong disclosed his assets early on. According to yesterday's The Times...]
Min-ho had ordered the protests to fan the flames. Once the fire caught, people gathering was inevitable. The public, scanning for alternatives, zeroed in on Beom-seong from the candidate pool.
Du-seong ground his molars, swallowing his rage. Oblivious Kim beamed. "President, this is no ordinary situation. Looks like you're getting appointed."
Beom-seong nodded him urgently out. Kim finally clocked the mood, bowed, and left.
If appointed mayor, JK Securities presidency would sit empty awhile. That meant losing Beom-seong as the vital link to foreign capital. Unlike his brother, the younger one barely suppressed a grin.
With all four limbs amputated, Du-seong stared gravely at the news. Then the door opened again.
"How many times do I have to say—"
Du-seong trailed off, stunned. It wasn't Kim—it was Min-ho.
Coincidentally, the two who shouldn't meet had collided in one room. Heavy silence descended.
The father, eyeing his son for a long beat, spoke first. "See your father, at least say hello."
"If I'd known you were here, I wouldn't have come. And we're not exactly on greeting terms."
"Grandpa's backing you, so now you won't even look at me?"
"Think what you want. But now what? Uncle's becoming Seoul mayor."
Suppressing fury, Du-seong's voice trembled. "You think the world bends to your whims?"
"Details later—busy today. Uncle, what're you doing? Get dressed."
Beom-seong, gaping, startled. "Huh? Why? Where we going?"
"You're about to be Seoul mayor. Time for photos."
"Right, gotta go."
Eager to escape the awkwardness with Du-seong, Beom-seong threw on his jacket and trailed Min-ho. Reporters swarmed as they exited, thrusting mics forward.
—President Kang Beom-seong, are you preparing for a possible Seoul mayoral appointment?
—As a businessman, not a politician, you're being floated as a candidate. What's your mindset?
Min-ho whispered something to his uncle. Overwhelmed by the frenzy, Beom-seong forced a smile and parroted the script.
"It's not on my radar yet. But if given the chance, I promise to give it my all."
Dodging the pack into the back seat, Beom-seong straightened his tie. "Man, am I really becoming Seoul mayor?"
"Told you last time. Not bad, right?"
"When else in life do you get this kind of attention? Nephew's got me blowing my own horn loud. Where we headed now?"
With public focus locked in, it was time for image-building.
"Hit volunteer spots everywhere, snap photos. You're basically a politician now, uncle. Follow my lead, and I'll make you mayor."
Meanwhile, Butler Moon arrived at a rundown goshiwon in Gwanak-gu, hunting the true culprit behind Gu Eun-chae's mother's murder.