The Political Funds Act

There is something rather peculiar about that law.

The Political Funds Act, that is.

The purpose of the act is to ensure the transparent budgeting, execution, and auditing of political activities. Once a political fund account is opened and registered with the National Election Commission, all deposits and withdrawals for political activities must go through that specific account.

It sounds reasonable on paper, but it has a few glaring issues.

Where exactly does public interest work end and political activity begin?

When Lee Yun-hyeok gathered ten thousand signatures in front of Mir Station and compiled administrative data, was that public interest work or political activity?

Since it ultimately served as his political springboard, it certainly looked like political activity.

In that case, was the signboard he made using a hundred thousand won of his own money a violation of the Political Funds Act? It was for a political activity, after all, but he hadn't used a registered political fund account.

But at that point, it wasn't even election season, and he couldn't register as a candidate. For an unemployed independent like Yun-hyeok, opening a political fund account was legally impossible.

How could he use an account that didn't exist?

The law is surprisingly full of loopholes.

On the flip side, it is also surprisingly flexible.

The cost of making the signboard was a one-time expense, and the amount was trivial.

So, even if someone reported Yun-hyeok's signboard as a violation of the Political Funds Act and took it to court, it would likely be dismissed as a public interest activity.

In most cases, the public would treat the whistleblower like an idiot. Is he so desperate for dirt that he's biting at this? they would say.

But what about his YouTube editor?

The person who had grown Yun-hyeok's channel to three hundred thousand subscribers over the last four months, starting from the Doma Elementary School project—how much had they been paid?

It certainly wouldn't be a small sum.

And it wouldn't have been a one-time payment; it would have been recurring.

For all intents and purposes, it was paid employment.

Yet, Yun-hyeok had not processed any of these transactions through a political fund account.

This is it!

Hong Gi-beom felt as though he had found the ultimate detonator to bring Lee Yun-hyeok down.

Of course, this alleged violation wasn't the dirty kind—like taking bribes or embezzling campaign donations.

Considering the channel was created before he could even open an account, paying the editor out of his own pocket could easily be dismissed as a minor oversight. But...

I have to survive first.

Hong Gi-beom decided to launch an all-out offensive on this vulnerability.

The image of a clean, good, and altruistic political rookie was like a blank sheet of white paper; even a single drop of black ink would stand out instantly.

“Today, I stand before you!”

Hong Gi-beom filed a formal complaint against Lee Yun-hyeok with the prosecution and held a press conference.

“I raise allegations of violating the Political Funds Act against Candidate Lee Yun-hyeok. All political expenses of a public candidate must be processed solely through a registered political fund account. However, there is a high probability that Candidate Lee has illegally operated private accounts. The evidence is something you, the citizens, can look up on your smartphones right this second. Go to Lee Yun-hyeok's YouTube ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠channel! That channel, which amassed over three hundred thousand subscribers in just four months, features over twenty videos that are clearly the work of a seasoned professional! Yet, they claim the cost of editing and producing all of this was 'zero won.' They insist that every single video was made purely through the editor's volunteer work! Even now, videos made by this editor are being uploaded to the Lee Yun-hyeok channel, but not once has a single production expense been recorded in their official financial ledger!”

Ji Hye-min sprang up from her seat.

Her legs trembled.

“Alright, let's take attendance.”

The professor walked in and began calling out names from the front of the roster, but Hye-min couldn't bring herself to sit through the lecture.

Feeling utterly suffocated, she grabbed her bag and fled the classroom.

“Where are you going?!”

Her classmates called out from behind, but Hye-min heard none of it.

She was in a state of literal mental breakdown, tearing at her hair as she sprinted down the hallway.

What do I do!

How could this happen? She had never imagined such a thing. She had seen news reports about the Political Funds Act all the time, but she never dreamed it would become her own story!

Some time ago, Lee Yun-hyeok had proposed signing a contract via email. He had suggested delaying the payment date until after his political fund account was opened, as he couldn't pay her from his private account.

Hye-min had politely declined. She had given him various excuses, but her true reason was simple: she didn't want to turn the connection they had forged through volunteering at Doma Elementary School into a mere financial transaction.

And above all, she wanted to support the drive and passion of this aspiring politician.

But instead, I've become an obstacle!

What on earth should I do!

“What should we do now?”

Yun-hyeok was lost in thought.

Hong Gi-beom had made a fatal mistake. At the very least, he should have gathered more evidence to gauge the situation.

Circumstantial evidence of Yun-hyeok and the editor meeting in secret, bank transaction records, insider testimony—he should have secured something like that.

The Hong Gi-beom Yun-hyeok knew was that kind of man. At least, he had been during his time as a three-term assemblyman.

But there were likely a few reasons why he had rushed to throw this to the prosecution based on mere suspicion alone.

First, the latest videos uploaded to the YouTube channel.

The three-part series of Yun-hyeok's policy forum was a special project that required an exceptionally high level of editing labor compared to anything uploaded before.

This was because the videos analyzed and explained Yun-hyeok's policies one by one. They had even summarized that crazy thesis of his.

How could this possibly be done as unpaid volunteer work?

Gi-beom must have thought it was utterly impossible.

Furthermore, because Lee Yun-hyeok was such a newcomer and his campaign staff was so small, gathering intelligence was impossible. With the election date fast approaching and his approval ratings lagging, Gi-beom must have decided he had to strike quickly.

Articles distributed by the Liberty Party flooded the media.

The mere existence of such news dealt a shockwave to Lee Yun-hyeok's supporters.

Although the comments from the channel's subscribers were still holding the line, fiercely resisting.

If he gave it too much time, his support base would crumble.

A response to this kind of issue had to be swift.

“He has evidence?”

Hong Gi-beom couldn't help but frown at Lee Yun-hyeok's response.

“That's absurd.”

Unless Lee Yun-hyeok had somehow foreseen this situation and obtained a written pledge from the editor beforehand—something like, 'I will edit these videos voluntarily without receiving any compensation'—how could he possibly have evidence?

And even if he did, it wouldn't look good. There was no way for Lee Yun-hyeok to escape this swamp. Claiming he had evidence was...

“It's a bluff.”

Hong Gi-beom didn't buy it.

His campaign team had already anticipated Lee Yun-hyeok's defense.

Lee Yun-hyeok would likely defend himself with the following logic:

'While projects like the Doma Elementary renovation, subway expansions, and proposing ordinances are political activities, I considered YouTube to be more of an archival record of those events.'

The lack of intent, the fact that YouTube was a relatively novel medium that the existing Political Funds Act struggled to regulate, his status as a rookie, and the fact that the channel was created before he could even open a political fund account.

Thanks to these factors, there was a chance he might be acquitted if it went to trial.

Lee Yun-hyeok was likely banking on that, putting on a brave face to pretend everything was fine.

This is exactly the scenario our strategy team predicted.

There were only ten days left until the election. Lee Yun-hyeok would try to drag things out for as long as possible.

The more he did, the harder Gi-beom's side had to tear into that weakness. It was a dirty tactic, but what choice did he have?

“Candidate, it's time for your speech at the Mir Chamber of Commerce and Industry.”

Guided by his aides, Hong Gi-beom immediately left the campaign office.

“Let's go.”

Negative campaigning was indeed a nasty strategy, but it was highly effective. Especially against someone like Lee Yun-hyeok.

“Citizens of Mir!”

Hong Gi-beom raised his voice, shouting before the crowd.

“I am a former Blue House administrator! I am the only one who truly knows how to keep finances transparent! Why is this by-election happening in Mir City in the first place? It is because of the corruption in our administrative accounting! Lee Yun-hyeok is no different! Why do you think the Hanmin Party supports him? Because they are cut from the exact same cloth!”

Mir City did not have its own district prosecutors' office. Thus, it fell under the jurisdiction of the Seongnam Branch of the Suwon District Prosecutors' Office.

As a result, Yun-hyeok had to cancel his schedule for the day and travel all the way to Seongnam, but the actual investigation wrapped up in no time.

This was because his evidence was simply too overwhelming.

He had printed out his entire bank transaction history and handed over every single email he had exchanged with Ji Hye-min.

The circumstances of the editor requesting anonymity, her status as a student which made professional wage calculation difficult, and the fact that the agreed-upon purpose of her volunteer work was for her own learning and portfolio building. Furthermore, the evidence showed that Yun-hyeok had personally proposed drafting a contract and paying her once his political fund account was opened, but she had refused. It also showed that Yun-hyeok had later reassured her that she could stop at any time if she felt burdened.

The evidence was more than abundant.

“So it's basically a fan channel...”

The prosecutor in charge, Jang Jin-seok, looked at the documents with a look of sheer disbelief.

There was zero evidence supporting the allegations, while the evidence refuting them was overwhelming. Under these circumstances, the prosecution couldn't even dream of indicting him.

However, Prosecutor Jang found himself curious about one thing.

“Since it's election season, I'm sure managing public opinion is your top priority. Is there a reason you brought all of this to us first?”

The prosecution hadn't even summoned Yun-hyeok yet. By voluntarily showing up and handing over ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠these materials, it felt as though he was prioritizing the prosecution over the media.

“Yes, I have a reason,” Yun-hyeok replied.

“Please show some consideration for this editor.”

“......”

“She is an ordinary citizen and a college student. Please don't let her get dragged into the mud of this old-school political warfare. If you must investigate her, I ask that you do so as quietly as possible, without exposing her to the media.”

Prosecutor Jang Jin-seok let out a soft chuckle.

He had seen all kinds of bizarre politicians in his career, but this was a first. Caring about an ordinary citizen getting hurt in the middle of a messy political brawl? The reason Yun-hyeok had brought this to the prosecution before going to the press was clear: since he was showing respect to the judicial institution, he wanted them to focus on their duty and ensure the student's name wouldn't be dragged through the media.

“Don't worry too much. With this level of documentation, even investigating the editor would be a waste of investigative resources.”

Though it had become common knowledge that the prosecution often acted as the lapdog of the ruling power, they didn't care about party politics in a local municipal election. Besides, Hong Gi-beom was hardly a titan capable of swaying the prosecution.

“We will likely dismiss the charges and drop the case within a few days. Since it's election season, we'll expedite the process.”

“Thank you for your consideration.”

When Yun-hyeok finished his investigation and stepped outside,

reporters had already swarmed the entrance of the Seongnam Branch Office.

“Candidate Lee Yun-hyeok!”

It was almost amusing to see them thrusting cameras and microphones in his face. Had a mayoral election in a city like Mir really become this famous even in Seongnam? Was this issue truly that impactful?

“Please give us a statement regarding the editor!”

But as he listened to their questions, it became clear that a massive incident—one even Yun-hyeok hadn't anticipated—had just exploded back in Mir City.

“The editor whose anonymity you've been protecting has stepped forward herself!”

“How do you feel about this...”

What on earth was this about?

Hye-min?

At the exact same time Lee Yun-hyeok was being questioned by the prosecution, Hong Gi-beom was holding his campaign rally at the Chamber of Commerce.

“Excuse me...”

During the citizen Q&A session, she raised ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her hand. Squeezing her eyes shut, she summoned every ounce of courage she had and spoke in a trembling voice.

“H-hello. My name is Ji Hye-min, and I'm a student in the Digital Media Design Department at Hankuk University. Actually... I'm the editor of Candidate Lee Yun-hyeok's YouTube channel.”

She felt like crying, but as the source of this entire mess, she felt ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠she had to take responsibility.

“It really was volunteer work...”

Ji Hye-min herself probably hadn't thought much of it, but to the politicians present, the scene was absolutely shocking.

First of all, this was Hong Gi-beom's campaign rally—enemy territory. She was like Lu Bu, charging alone into the heart of the enemy camp to take the general's head.

“Since I'm still a student, I felt embarrassed about taking money for my work. I also needed to build my portfolio, so I did it entirely of my own free will...”

Camera shutters erupted from all directions.

“I first met Candidate Lee Yun-hyeok while volunteering at Doma Elementary School, and I just wanted to help him do good work. That's all! I'm so sorry! I had no idea this would cause such a problem!”

Hong Gi-beom's vision literally went dark, as if he had blacked out after drinking heavily.

Ji Hye-min continued.

“Actually, Candidate Lee Yun-hyeok asked me to sign a contract so he could pay me once he opened a political fund account. But I refused.”

Camera flashes exploded all around them.

“Because I'm still just a student... I'm so sorry!”

What was she even apologizing for?

The one who wanted to die was Hong Gi-beom.

He was rapidly becoming the lunatic who had dragged an innocent college student's pure, good-natured volunteer work into the mud of old-school politics and thrown her to the prosecutors.