The Governor's Gambit
Mir City Hall was in an absolute uproar.
The Gyeonggi Provincial Office had extended an invitation to Mayor Lee Yun-hyeok. The governor himself had requested a private audience.
It was an exceedingly rare occurrence. It was highly unusual for the provincial office to initiate a one-on-one meeting with the head of a basic local government.
Mir City's political affairs team was on high alert, trying to parse the shifting dynamics between the city and the province. Given the mayor's recent high-profile activities, this invitation could easily be a veiled warning. On the other hand, it might serve as a stepping stone to the national stage.
While anticipation and anxiety ran in equal measure throughout City Hall, Yun-hyeok remained entirely unbothered.
‘Governor Han Gi-jeong of Gyeonggi Province.’
He was a man Yun-hyeok knew all too well.
Fifty-four years old. A heavyweight of the Hanmin Party and one of the leading contenders for the next presidential election.
To offer a brief spoiler of his future: he would repeatedly fail in the party primaries, never actually making it to the presidential race, and would meet an early demise from liver cancer.
He was quick at political calculations, highly adept at reading people, and an eloquent speaker. He simply lacked the luck required to grasp supreme power.
‘I can already guess why he called me.’
Yun-hyeok adjusted his schedule and paid a visit to the Gyeonggi Provincial Office.
163 Iui-dong, Yeongtong-gu, Suwon.
The new Gwanggyo headquarters, which had been relocated in 2022, was grand and gleaming—incomparable to the modest scale of Mir City Hall.
The governor's office was equally vast and ostentatious. It was easily twice the size of former mayor Baek Hyeong-guk's office.
"Welcome,"
Governor Han Gi-jeong welcomed Yun-hyeok warmly.
"I've been quite eager to meet you."
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Governor."
They exchanged practiced political smiles and shook hands.
Jo Hyeon-seo, who had accompanied him as his chief of staff, waited outside in the secretariat.
The governor's chief of staff served light refreshments on the table.
"Mir Childcare 365. I hear it's been doing exceptionally well lately."
Without so much as touching the fruit, Han Gi-jeong cut straight to the chase.
"Thanks to you, the other cities in Gyeonggi Province are in an absolute frenzy," Han Gi-jeong said.
"In Seongnam, they're demanding to know why they can't do this. In Yongin, they're making a fuss. The medical associations are up in arms, issuing protest statements left and right. The other local government heads are thoroughly exhausted. Because Mayor Lee is so exceptionally competent, everyone around you is suffering."
He chuckled heartily.
It was a cunning remark, subtly disguised as a compliment.
"I apologize if I have caused any inconvenience."
"No, no, not at all!" Han Gi-jeong waved his hand dismissively. "That's not what I meant. I'm simply worried that a highly capable and talented administrator might get targeted and suffer at the hands of old-guard politicians."
"..."
"Since Mayor Lee is an independent and a newcomer, I'm naturally concerned. As the governor, how could I just sit back and watch?"
Ah, so that was it.
Han Gi-jeong wanted to position himself as the benevolent regional leader—the protector who would step in to shield a young, independent rookie in his early thirties from being devoured by corrupt, old-guard local politicians.
‘Co-optation.’
So that was the angle he was playing.
Yun-hyeok decided to hear him out a bit more.
"Mayor Lee," Han Gi-jeong said. "Join the Hanmin Party. You've raised your political stock high enough by now."
"Even before the by-election, Party Leader Han Myeong-cheol and Representative Park Dae-man offered me a chance to join."
"I heard about that."
"At the time, they offered me a proportional representation seat."
"Those two were thinking too small," Han Gi-jeong laughed. "Trying to recruit someone as brilliant as Mayor Lee with a mere gold-plated lawmaker's badge. It was a massive miscalculation on their part."
Han Gi-jeong had clearly chosen his cards with care.
"Mayor Lee, let's do this. Run again for the mayoralty of Mir City as a Hanmin Party candidate in next June's local elections. Your by-election term is less than two years; surely you must feel it's too short to accomplish everything you want?"
"..."
"You will return as the Mayor of Mir City, and I will run for reelection as the Governor of Gyeonggi Province."
"Are you confident you can win reelection?"
"If you back me, Mayor Lee," Han Gi-jeong said. "Mir Childcare 365 is a policy worthy of nationwide expansion. Right now, it's operating like a pilot program in Mir City, but I'm thinking of expanding it to the entirety of Gyeonggi Province. I'd like you to head the technical advisory group."
Now, Han Gi-jeong's entire strategy was laid bare.
Yun-hyeok saw right through it instantly.
"You intend to rebrand it."
"..."
Han Gi-jeong was trying to swallow Mir Childcare 365 whole.
The low birth rate measures Gyeonggi Province had pushed so far had mostly stagnated, whereas Mir Childcare 365 was currently enjoying explosive popularity.
If Mir Childcare 365 expanded in its current state, all the credit and prestige would go to Yun-hyeok. Han Gi-jeong's own standing would shrink, which would negatively impact his reelection bid.
But what if he relegated Yun-hyeok to a mere technical advisory role, pushed him to the background, and completely changed the name of Mir Childcare 365 before rolling it out?
Something like 'Gyeonggi Child Welfare,' perhaps.
He would cleanly erase any trace of Mir City and Yun-hyeok's name, plaster 'Gyeonggi' all over it, and rebrand it under his own name as governor.
Then, he would build it up as Gyeonggi Province's flagship project to secure his reelection next year.
‘How incredibly greedy.’
Two powerful arguments usually backed such underhanded ideas.
The first was a practical reward.
"I won't be Gyeonggi Governor for long, Mayor Lee. After all, the presidential election is in '27."
"Are you planning to run for president?"
"Naturally, I am the leading candidate for the Hanmin Party," Han Gi-jeong said with a smile. "I will resign to join the presidential race, and once I am elected, I will guarantee you an unprecedented position. A governor who successfully expanded such a brilliant app to the entire province will have a very high chance of winning. It will be on a completely different level than a mere proportional lawmaker's badge."
"..."
"And regarding what you said earlier about rebranding it under my name..."
To be honest, Han Gi-jeong had been startled by how quickly his true intentions had been read.
But a seasoned politician was always a master of feigning innocence.
"That is simply unavoidable. The provincial office must take the lead for the other local government heads to follow suit naturally. It might be a bit disappointing for you, Mayor Lee, but you must bear with it."
This was the second argument.
"Isn't the public interest far more important than who gets the political credit?"
Han Gi-jeong was good at reading people. He knew exactly what kind of person Lee Yun-hyeok was—or so he thought.
The righteous, clean, public-interest-focused politicians who started out as civil activists.
They all shared one fatal weakness.
They sacrificed themselves far too easily. While they could be incredibly stubborn when fighting old-guard politics, their resolve crumbled when presented with the public good.
It wasn't the first time such politicians had appeared in this country, but that weakness was precisely why most of them withered away before they could ever make it to the national stage and become heavyweights.
"What does it matter if Gyeonggi Province does it or Mir City does it? What matters is that the citizens can use it effectively."
Faced with this logic, a man like Lee Yun-hyeok wouldn't dare shamelessly assert his own claim.
...Or so Han Gi-jeong believed.
Had it been the thirty-two-year-old Lee Yun-hyeok of his first life, it might have actually worked.
"I cannot do that."
But a politician on his fourth life was far too massive a meal for Han Gi-jeong to swallow and digest.
"The credit I receive is also important."
"..."
Han Gi-jeong was utterly taken aback by the unexpected response.
"Did I misjudge you, Mayor Lee?" he said. "I didn't think Mayor Lee was the type of person to sacrifice the public interest for personal gain. There is a limit to how much you can expand that app from the position of Mir City's mayor. Naturally, direct leadership from the provincial office would ensure swift administrative execution. Yet, you would sacrifice the convenience of citizens outside Mir City just to cling to your own fame and honor?"
Yun-hyeok had long believed that politicians were masters of gaslighting—especially when dealing with their juniors.
"Mayor Lee, you are still young and your career has only just begun, so I am advising you as a senior colleague. Politics is not like studying for the civil service exam; you cannot succeed just by working hard on your own. You shouldn't just look after Mir City; you must calculate the greater public good. Look at the bigger picture."
"I am already doing exactly that."
If one were to look at the absolute biggest picture, the most desirable outcome was for Yun-hyeok to grow rapidly so he could address the national low birth rate crisis within the next ten—no, nine—years.
But even putting that aside, from the perspective of objective social justice, a crucial point was being omitted here.
"When I attracted startups and subsidiaries of major conglomerates from Seongnam to Jungang-dong, I gave a specific instruction to my Planning and Coordination Director," Yun-hyeok said. "'Keep a close eye out, because conglomerates might try to steal the valuable ideas or patents developed by these startups.'"
Han Gi-jeong's shoulders flinched.
"Governor, those who advance society, invent new technologies, and introduce groundbreaking policies must receive the credit they deserve for their achievements. That is what defines a just society."
"..."
"For a politician to make themselves an exception to that rule of justice is not humility—it is arrogance," Yun-hyeok said. "Furthermore, if I allow the provincial office, which has no authority over this policy, to monopolize all the rewards, I would be turning a blind eye to the erosion of social justice. A politician must never do that."
"Did I..." Han Gi-jeong swallowed hard. "Did I say I wouldn't reward you, Mayor Lee? Didn't I promise you a key position in the central government after the presidential election?"
"I did not build that app alone. The public servants of Mir City worked through the night to make it happen," Yun-hyeok replied. "No matter what position you offer me, it can hardly serve as a proper reward for them."
Silence fell over the room.
Han Gi-jeong could not think of a single way to salvage a meeting that had veered so wildly off course.
‘What on earth is wrong with this guy?’
Lee Yun-hyeok was an utterly incomprehensible figure.
He did not fit into any of the countless categories of politicians Han Gi-jeong had encountered throughout his long career in politics.
At times, he seemed like a populist politician obsessed with the public good, yet he would suddenly defend his share like a battle-hardened, cynical veteran. And he justified it in the most bizarre way. It was confusing. In a way, it sounded like a convoluted excuse to protect his own interests, but in another, it felt like a deeply held, genuine political conviction. He seemed like an obstinate, stubborn fool, yet at the same time, he felt like a highly flexible negotiator. After all, he had just countered with this proposal:
"Why not have the provincial office officially delegate the implementation and operation of this policy to Mir City instead?"
"..."
"I assume you envisioned a top-down approach where a project group under the provincial office holds absolute authority and distributes the app to local governments. However, as you know, medical infrastructure and educational welfare policies vary greatly from city to county. Furthermore, the motivation of local government heads will plummet. No matter how well the app is localized, they will be left as mere bystanders with no achievements to show for it. Cooperation, promotion, and management will all grow lax," Lee Yun-hyeok said. "Instead, let each city and county design their own operational methods and feature layouts. In exchange, establish a province-wide project consortium in Mir City, and support us with personnel and budget. I will act not as a technical director, but as a public-agreement partnership manager. We will define the standard APIs and data integration methods, and using the experience and know-how we gained while launching the project in Mir City, we will advise and supervise the other municipalities to ensure they successfully adopt the policy."
Han Gi-jeong pulled out an e-cigarette.
He took a deep drag and fell into deep thought.
It meant expanding it as a provincial project, but effectively keeping Mir City as the control tower. The provincial office would only receive the credit of having 'outsourced' it. Lee Yun-hyeok was offering to let him have at least that much, suggesting they compromise there.
"Governor, only by doing so..."
Sometimes, a politician's own words could turn into a weapon that pierced them.
"...can we expand this to the provincial level as quickly as possible. Please, think of the public interest."
The hand holding the e-cigarette trembled slightly.
‘You absolute snake.’
Han Gi-jeong recalled what had happened last year during the by-election. Party Leader Han Myeong-cheol and Representative Park Dae-man, who had gone to recruit Lee Yun-hyeok, had returned empty-handed, having given up on nominating a candidate entirely.
He had wondered what kind of idiots two seasoned heavyweights had to be to fail at handling a single rookie and get eaten alive instead. Now, he finally understood.
This man was dangerous.
"Do you intend to remain an independent?"
"For now, yes."
"..."
Han Gi-jeong took another drag of his e-cigarette.
This was the end of the line. Swallowing this guy up was out of the question. And if he left that damn app alone, complaints would only boil over at the provincial level, which would ruin his chances of reelection.
"I will actively review establishing the consortium in Mir City and delegating the authority. You may leave now."
"Thank you, Governor."
Yun-hyeok bowed politely and left the room.
Slam!
The moment the door closed, Han Gi-jeong hurled his e-cigarette straight at it.