Wagging the Tail
***
Min-ho's residence. Following Kang Du-seong's orders, Min-ho had clocked out early. After a quick stop at the department store to prepare for Seongbuk-dong, he returned home.
"You've been running around everywhere—must be exhausted."
"Not at all. It's for Seongbuk-dong, but I feel a bit uneasy since my preparations seem lacking."
"I only bought one set of clothes and loaded up on snacks, though."
"I won't deny it, though I'm sorry to say so."
Choi's concerns were spot on. Upon arriving at the department store, Min-ho hurriedly picked out clothes and shoes before heading to the basement food section. He then tossed every variety of potato snack available into his cart. It was bizarre behavior that anyone—even someone other than Choi—would find suspicious. No one could guess the reason.
As Choi unpacked the snacks onto the dining table, he ventured a question.
"Young master, may I ask why you bought so many snacks? And not just any—they're all potato-flavored."
"What do you think I bought them for?"
"Nothing specific comes to mind."
"Truth is, these are a gift for Grandpa."
"Pardon? What do you mean, young master?"
Choi stared blankly at Min-ho, dropping the bag of chips from his hand in shock at the unexpected answer.
"Young master, I think you might be mistaken about something."
"No way—you know my tastes well enough."
"I've never met the chairman in person, but even by rumor, I've never heard he enjoys snacks."
"Don't worry. Have you ever seen me act without thinking? More importantly, get the documents ready to show Grandpa."
"Understood. I'll wrap it up quickly."
He said that, but Choi still couldn't tear his eyes from the snacks. In the end, Min-ho had to nudge him into the room.
Up until now, all of Min-ho's actions had been aimed at diverting the gaze of his grandfather, Chairman Kang Jin-gwang, who had thoroughly ignored him. In this pivotal moment—a turning point in his second life—why had Min-ho chosen to buy a mountain of potato snacks, of all things?
As Choi had said, Chairman Kang didn't indulge in munchies. But there was a reason the man, nearing eighty, had suddenly developed a taste for them: the extra-crispy potato chips.
Regular snacks were made for kids, sweet as the default. Potato chips, on the other hand, balanced just the right saltiness with a satisfying crunch. That subtle harmony had completely captivated the chairman's palate. From then on, potato chips had to be within arm's reach everywhere he went—even on business trips.
As the former head of the secretarial office, Min-ho knew even these minor preferences of the chairman's. If a grandson, already piquing his curiosity, showed up with a gift perfectly suited to his tastes, the chairman's reaction was predictable.
The plan was flawless, but one practical issue remained: the chairman's favorite chips wouldn't hit the market for another twelve years. Thus, no current snack matched that flavor. Min-ho wasn't one to give up.
If there's no path, make one.
He started opening bags and tasting them one by one.
"This one's too sweet... This is way too soggy... It needs to be crispy with just the right nuttiness."
Min-ho sampled all twenty varieties. Compared to the chairman's ideal, each fell a little short. With time, he could've visited a factory and thrown money at the problem, but he had barely an hour left before departure for Seongbuk-dong.
Just then, Choi emerged from the room, documents in hand. Min-ho was surrounded by chip bags, tearing at his hair.
"This isn't it... Not crispy enough..."
"I don't know what's wrong, young master, but I'll help."
"Do you cook well, by any chance?"
"No talent for it, but I might be of use."
"Try these first, then."
Choi sampled them in order and nodded.
"They're tasty, but why the worry?"
"Not crispy enough."
"Does the chairman prefer extra crunch?"
"Yes—crispier than this. The kind where the crunch echoes to the front door when you bite."
Attorney Choi smiled leisurely, as if he had the answer.
"To make them crispier, add a bit of moisture, then microwave. After, pop them in the freezer for about ten minutes."
"That really works?"
"That's how I revived leftover chips back in my boarding house days studying for the bar."
"No time to waste—let's do it."
And so Min-ho perfected the crispy potato chips, packed them into a stacked lunchbox, tied it with a ribbon, and headed to Seongbuk-dong.
***
Seongbuk-dong. Chairman Kang Jin-gwang sat puffing on his pipe, lost in thought. At his side, ever like a shadow, was Butler Moon Sang-oh.
The two had shared over twenty years together. It went beyond a mere chairman-butler relationship—built on profound trust and faith.
The chairman knew the butler's innermost thoughts without even turning his head.
Exhaling a long plume of pale smoke, he spoke.
"I know when you're troubled—your breaths get rough. Aware of that?"
"My apologies. I'll be careful."
"Not scolding you. You have something to say—out with it, no holding back."
As the chairman predicted, Moon had a worry. But he hesitated to voice it because it concerned Min-ho.
"Do you know why I've kept you by my side all these years?"
"Not exactly."
"People see only the top of my head when they look at me—too busy bowing. But you occasionally say things I don't want to hear. If I'd only heard sweet words, I wouldn't have made it this far."
Moon exhaled deeply, resolve firm, and began slowly.
"I believe it's still too soon to let the youngest young master out into the world."
Until recently, Min-ho had been nothing but a troublemaking punk, causing endless incidents. After enduring it, the chairman had strictly banned him from Seongbuk-dong. Of course, this auction matter showed remarkable cleverness. Yet it felt like the chairman was glossing over past sins with just this one feat. Moon's mind swirled with doubt at the unexpected leniency.
"This incident... You witnessed it firsthand, so you know."
"Yes, Chairman. Young Master Min-ho's plan was like a work of art."
"People don't change easily... Is that what you're saying?"
"I've watched from the side as you've suffered over his every mishap. I don't want to see that again—honestly."
"Fair point. I never said it, but that rascal gave me plenty of heartburn."
Would the great chairman have decided without considering even this? Moon's fears were unfounded.
"As you know, that kid laid down a pretty vase to pierce my nose."
"Indeed."
"Asking to meet would've been pointless—he knows my temperament and that it'd fail."
"So he anticipated the next move?"
"Exactly. He's holding something—he used that flat vase as bait, waiting for me to call."
Moon pondered the chairman's words but couldn't fathom it either.
"May I ask what you suspect it might be?"
"Truth be told, nothing jumps out. But he won't come empty-handed. If he went this far for nothing, that would be stranger."
His body might be aged, but his wits shone sharp as ever. From Min-ho's actions so far, he could roughly guess the boy's intentions.
"Whatever it is, it won't be money. If money was the goal, he wouldn't be wagging his tail at me."
"One more question?"
"Go ahead."
"Have you decided how to handle the young master?"
"Handle how? I don't know what's inside yet—I have to coax it out."
"Understood."
The chairman peeked through the curtains. Outside, his eldest son Kang Du-seong had arrived early and was chain-smoking anxiously. Smiling faintly, he drew the curtains and murmured meaningfully.
"This is Min-ho's last chance. No need to worry overmuch."
***
Kang Du-seong, impatient, had arrived before the appointed time. His mind was still a whirlwind. Lighting a cigarette to collect his thoughts, he puffed away.
The 300 million won debt resolution was unbelievable enough. Now this sudden summons to Seongbuk-dong.
Grandpa knows about Min-ho through Aunt Myeong-seon—why call him specifically?
No matter how he mulled it, he couldn't read the chairman's intentions. The cigarette burned faster, mirroring his frustration.
Moments later, Min-ho's car pulled up. Choi parked, approached Du-seong, and bowed.
"President, we've arrived."
"Good work. Got the documents?"
"All files on the Myeongmok-dong and Bongcheon-dong deals are ready."
"That should suffice. So why hasn't Min-ho gotten out yet?"
For some reason, Min-ho lingered in the car. Du-seong fixed his gaze on it.
After fussing with something for a while, Min-ho finally emerged. Spotting his father, he greeted politely.
"Father, you're here."
"What took so long? Dawdling like that?"
"Preparing a gift."
"You know Grandpa's temperament? Better nothing than some half-baked thing."
Du-seong was quietly pleased just knowing a gift was prepared. But his words came out rough, like an unpaved road.
"What gift?"
Gifts for the chairman's age and tastes were usually ginseng, wild ginseng, or liquor. Min-ho's was different—wildly so.
He pulled a massive five-tiered lunchbox from the back seat. Expecting a gift bag or wrapped package, Du-seong sighed in disbelief.
"Picnic or what? A lunchbox? You playing house like a kid?"
"It's Grandpa's gift."
"Put it down—we've got one ready."
"Father, I'm serious. I'm taking this in."
Raising his voice here would reach the chairman's ears for sure. Suppressing his boiling anger, he warned.
"What's in it that you're so stubborn?"
"I'll show you inside. It's ribboned—can't peek early."
He itched to check right then, but time was down to five minutes. No choice for Du-seong.
"Choi, wait outside. Call if needed."
"Yes, President."
At last, after all the twists, they entered Chairman Kang Jin-gwang's Seongbuk-dong residence. Until recently, Min-ho had slunk in and out like a loyal dog. Now things were different. He could enter proudly as a royal family member.
Various emotions swirled, but he betrayed none, quietly following his father. Like any wealthy estate, the path was lined with manicured trees, stones, and lawns. After a long walk, the entrance appeared.
Waiting was, of course, Butler Moon. Hands clasped, he bowed deeply.
"Welcome. The chairman awaits."
The heavy front door opened, and they followed him in. The vast living room was shrouded in shadow. At its center sat Kang Jin-gwang.