Bolstering the Faction (3)
The living room atmosphere had settled into a calm hush at the thought that I would soon announce the list of new president candidates. That was when the villa door opened once more and a woman stepped inside.
This time the reaction was completely different from when Jung Ju-seong had appeared. After all, she was a former top actress who had once dominated living-room televisions nationwide—someone almost no one failed to recognize. Considering the ages of the people gathered here, aside from myself, there was probably no one who hadn’t seen Kim Majin star in East of the Dawn. I had been too young to remember it clearly at the time, but I later heard that the scene in which her character nearly died had driven the viewership rating to seventy percent. Even in an era when there weren’t as many channels as today, that was an extraordinary record.
Though nearly as many years had passed as my current age, Kim Majin still radiated undiminished beauty when she appeared in the villa. Her aura was no less striking than Cha Ye-na’s, despite the considerable age gap between them. Yet that aura had clearly weakened. Dark circles still lingered beneath her eyes, and her cheeks looked hollow—likely the result of the painful family ordeal she had recently endured. Knowing every detail of what had happened, I felt a pang of sympathy, but at the same time I thought her current appearance was perfectly acceptable for this gathering.
After all, Kim Majin had not come here as the once-famous actress. She had come as the incoming president of QS EnM, attending a secret meeting of the group’s senior executives.
The decision to invite Kim Majin to the villa’s secret meeting had been made the moment I decided to hand her the presidency of QS EnM. Up to that point, my plan to absorb Kwon Je-gyun’s remaining forces by leveraging her influence had proceeded smoothly. But Kim Majin was far too sharp a double-edged sword to simply leave matters as they were.
I was not the only one who wanted to absorb Je-gyun’s leftover faction. Seong-gyun was surely considering the same move as his first countermeasure against me. There would also be attempts by the remnants themselves to band together. Someone like Kwak Hee-yeon, president of QS Publishing—whose influence was negligible yet whose voice was the loudest—would be more than capable of trying.
According to the intelligence Chae Hee-geon had gathered, Kwak had tried to contact Kim Majin directly after Je-gyun’s fall. His intention had clearly been to use her as a figurehead while he himself reorganized the old Je-gyun faction around his own interests.
The possibility that someone might use the formidable weapon named Kim Majin to obstruct my plans was endless. If such a thing actually happened, my decision to designate Seong-gyun as an adult ward and install Kim Majin as president of QS EnM would become the worst self-inflicted wound imaginable.
Even though Kim Majin currently felt both gratitude and guilt toward me, relying solely on emotions that would fade with time and shift according to circumstances carried far too great a risk. So I explained the nature of the villa gathering and the current members in broad terms, then asked if she would like to join.
Her answer did not deviate from my expectations.
“It sounds like a gathering of people who hope the young master will succeed the chairman. Would it be all right if I took some time to think about attending? I’m still not very familiar with corporate politics.”
Resolving her husband’s and daughter’s problems and taking charge of QS EnM had been, for Kim Majin, simply a matter of settling her own family affairs. But participating in the villa meeting was something else entirely—an act of direct interference in the succession structure. I could easily understand why she needed time to consider.
Precisely because of that, I had prepared several documents she could usefully reference while making up her mind.
“Of course. Take all the time you need to think it over. Also, this concerns Je-gyun, so I thought you should see it as well. I’ve already printed it out.”
Kim Majin’s hands trembled as she accepted the papers. They contained an article that had been written but never published. The headline read:
The Brother Who Thirsts for His Sibling’s Blood — QS Group Director Kwon Je-gyun
The provocative headline had been crafted by Song A-reum of Hanbit Ilbo, a reporter always eager to criticize anything related to the QS Group. The body described, in equally sensational language, how Je-gyun had mobilized gangsters to threaten my safety.
It was not difficult to guess how the story had reached Hanbit Ilbo. While defending Seok Dong-hoon, I had played the video of the abandoned-building incident in open court with reporters present. Journalists routinely exchanged information, and I had never requested off-the-record status, so such a juicy scoop would naturally have circulated among them. I had deliberately not invited Hanbit Ilbo that day, yet Song A-reum had pieced the events together and written the article anyway.
Having the article about Je-gyun’s misdeeds published would not have harmed me in any significant way, and it could even be useful—as it was now. When I received it, I felt no particular displeasure. If anything, I was quietly pleased that my decision to show the footage to the reporters, rather than only to the court, had paid off.
After finishing the article, Kim Majin swallowed dryly and asked, “Is this article actually going to be published?”
“The Hanbit Ilbo desk apparently judged it too risky to run without confirmation. They contacted me through PR Team Leader Chae Hee-geon—the one I mentioned earlier—and asked whether I would consent to publication. I haven’t replied yet, but I don’t think it should be released.”
Kim Majin was no fool who needed every implication spelled out. She would have understood the meaning hidden between my words: I could release the article whenever I chose, and my judgment that it “shouldn’t be published” could just as easily be reversed.
Because what Je-gyun had done was an undeniable fact, once the article appeared there would be no taking it back. The people who had been discussing how to preserve what little social standing Je-gyun still possessed were none other than Chae Hee-geon and myself—members of this very villa group.
Perhaps Kim Majin was also calculating that, once the school-violence incident became public, the fact that Shinyong was Je-gyun’s blood relative would become widely known. If the article ran, Shinyong’s image at school would inevitably become that of a criminal’s daughter.
Unable to keep reading, Kim Majin folded the papers in half and handed them back.
“Thank you, young master.”
“Ah, and would you take a look at this as well? Once Je-gyun is placed under adult guardianship, it will directly concern you.”
Kim Majin blinked several times, looking dazed, before she managed to answer. “Pardon? What is it?”
I retrieved a tablet from the desk, tapped the screen a few times, and handed it to her.
“This… this is…?”
She looked considerably startled—though not quite as much as when she had read the article about Je-gyun.
“Right after Je-gyun’s incident, Seong-gyun began actively buying up shares in QS Food.”
It was the moment Seong-gyun, who had been stockpiling cash by cutting R&D budgets at QS Electronics and squeezing franchisees, finally made his move. The data made it painfully clear that if Kim Majin continued to act with excessive caution, Seong-gyun would swallow every company that had once fallen under Je-gyun’s influence.
QS Food would be only the beginning. The share purchases would soon extend to QS EnM and the rest of Je-gyun’s former subsidiaries. In other words, now that Kim Majin had agreed to participate in management, she no longer had the luxury of watching and waiting. If she did not align with me, Je-gyun’s companies would be devoured by Seong-gyun immediately.
By any calculation, attaching herself to me—who had no interest in Je-gyun’s shares and was willing to entrust her with actual management authority—was the only advantageous choice.
In the end, Kim Majin, who had asked for time to think, sent a message that very night confirming she would attend the villa meeting. And now she was shaking hands with each of the existing members one by one.
When her turn came to stand before Chae Hee-geon, Kim Majin smiled a shade brighter than she had for the others.
“Hello.”
It seemed like an expression of gratitude for filtering the article about Je-gyun. Chae Hee-geon appeared to have completely misunderstood the smile. When Kim Majin extended her hand, he blew on his own palm, wiped it vigorously on his clothes, and only then accepted the handshake.
“Chae Hee-geon, at your service!”
Even his voice was stiff with tension. To Chae Hee-geon, Kim Majin was evidently still the superstar who had played the heroine of East of the Dawn.
After finishing her greetings, Kim Majin stood before the entire group and bowed politely.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you all. I am Kim Majin, the newly appointed president of QS EnM.”
Only then did the existing members nod, finally understanding why she was present. Being the shrewd individuals they were, they also seemed to grasp that I had absorbed Je-gyun’s faction through her.
Once Kim Majin took a seat on the empty sofa, the second villa meeting officially began and it was my turn to speak.
“Thank you all for coming such a long way. President Shin Ho-jung asked earlier about the list of new presidents for the vacant positions, so let’s review that first and discuss it together. QS EnM will be led by our new president, Kim Majin, and I’ll show you the details for the remaining subsidiaries. Ye-na?”
“Yes.”
At my instruction, Cha Ye-na distributed the prepared copies of the new president list, handing one sheet to each villa member. Within seconds, every face except one widened in surprise.