Not Enough Yet
A party broke out in Doma-myeon.
From six in the evening until midnight, Lee Yun-hyeok joined in the festivities without holding back. Although it was a rural village feast, the crowd skewed younger, keeping the atmosphere lively and fresh.
Two large cauldrons were set up in front of the town hall, their broths bubbling away. Six charcoal grills were fired up nearby. Pork belly and beef kept arriving in endless waves, and glasses were constantly refilled. As expected of the countryside, makgeolli was the main drink, but surprisingly, some truly formidable liquors made an appearance as well.
Honey mead, snake wine, and other vicious-looking bottles kept emerging from unknown corners.
"Who wants to sing a song?"
The village chief, thoroughly excited, grabbed the microphone and made a grand fuss.
Immediately, the crowd's enthusiastic support focused entirely on Yun-hyeok.
"Ah, Young Lee should go first for this kind of thing!"
"Sing a song!"
"Sing a song!"
"Go Yun-hyeok!"
"You're handsome!"
Yun-hyeok took the microphone.
A politician could never back out of a situation like this. You couldn't survive in politics with a stiff, overly polite attitude. When it was time to match the mood, you had to go all out.
Yun-hyeok could handle girl group dances, hip-hop, R&B, and ballads—he could do it all. But for an audience of grandpas and grandmas? Ah, of course, he was prepared for that too.
"A gla-ss of mak-geolli~!"
Combining all his past lives, he poured the sweet and bitter experiences of a 120-year-long existence into his singing, bending the notes with perfect, soulful trot technique.
"Kyaah!"
"Young Lee!"
"Our future mayor is a fantastic singer too!"
"He could go on Mister Trot!"
The grandpas and grandmas clapped excitedly, while the younger volunteers burst into laughter.
"Who's next?"
Yun-hyeok handed the microphone back to the village chief. The chief's shoulders danced to the rhythm, but he was still too shy to take the stage.
"How about you?"
Yun-hyeok offered the microphone to Kim Ji-eun, the university student volunteer.
"Argh!"
Kim Ji-eun shrieked in horror and ran away.
Right then.
"Me."
Someone bravely stepped forward in front of Yun-hyeok. It was none other than Doma-myeon's representative vocalist, third-grader Jang Yu-ri of Doma Elementary School.
"Hit you with that ddu-du ddu-du du!"
Yu-ri belted out the famous song that had charted on Billboard. Her skills were indeed impressive, but unfortunately, not a single elderly person in the crowd knew the song.
"Is that 'Baby Shark' or something?"
"Cute doo-roo-doo-roo-doo?"
"No, it's not!"
Fuming at being treated like a baby, Yu-ri stomped her feet in frustration.
The party finally wound down around one in the morning, and Yun-hyeok returned to his temporary lodging.
But.
"Huh?"
The door was locked.
"Even if a thief broke in, there's nothing to steal, so I usually just left it unlocked out of laziness."
Yun-hyeok unlocked the door with his key.
When he stepped inside, he almost fainted from shock.
Swoooosh—
The sound of running water was coming from the bathroom, and a pile of women's clothes lay right in front of the door. They weren't a grandma's pajamas, either—they were wide-leg pants and a hoodie printed with a cute character.
Crazy.
For a split second, his body froze. In his mind, he could hear the distinct sound of his political career shattering into pieces.
Click!
To make matters worse, she was about to open the bathroom door and step out.
"No!"
Yun-hyeok lunged forward and grabbed the outer doorknob, holding it shut.
"Kyaaaah!"
A scream erupted from inside the bathroom.
"Wh-who is it?!"
She asked in sheer terror, and Yun-hyeok shouted back just as frantically.
"Who are you?! This is my lodging!"
"Oh... oh."
Though he couldn't see her face, he could feel how incredibly flustered she was. She began to babble in complete panic.
"What do I do! I'm so sorry! I think I got the wrong house!"
"The wrong house?"
"The village chief wrote down the directions to my lodging on a note, but his handwriting is so bad..."
He could easily guess what had happened.
"I-I'll wait outside the house, so count to ten and come out."
Terrified, Yun-hyeok barely managed to catch his breath as he hurried out into the yard.
In politics, all sorts of bizarre things happened.
Fortunately, this seemed like it would end as a funny misunderstanding. But if Yun-hyeok had been just a bit more famous, he would have suspected her of being a terrifying political assassin sent to ruin him.
"That sobered me up instantly."
Yun-hyeok patted his racing chest.
He sat on the wooden bench where he had eaten rice cakes with Jang Yu-ri, her parents, and the village chief, waiting for about five minutes.
The woman, now fully dressed, finally stepped outside.
Her ears were bright red.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"
The moment Yun-hyeok saw her face, he froze in shock.
My goodness.
Fate was truly a mischievous thing.
Come to think of it, Kim Ji-eun had mentioned she was a junior in the Digital Media Design department at Hankuk University. This person was in the exact same department.
Ji Hye-min.
His wife in his second life, his wife in his third life, and the mother of his children.
His lifelong companion.
Her milky, clear skin, her neat teeth with slightly prominent front teeth, her nose that turned red in the chilly night air just like now, and her innocent, puppy-like eyes.
It was a face he knew all too well.
The scent of apple shampoo wafted from her wet hair.
Her body, fresh from the hot shower, still radiated warmth and moisture. Yun-hyeok felt the cool night air around them grow slightly warmer.
"Wh-why are you looking at me like that..."
Because Yun-hyeok was staring intently at her, Ji Hye-min shrank back in embarrassment.
"Give me the note."
Yun-hyeok took the village chief's note from her. It was indeed terrible handwriting.
"It's not number 15. It's number 16."
"Ah! I'm so sorry!"
"No, it's fine. Please get back safely. You didn't leave anything behind, right?"
"Yes! I'm really, really sorry!"
Ji Hye-min bowed repeatedly and rushed toward the front gate.
But.
"I-I can't open the door...!"
She pulled frantically at the gate, panicking and not knowing what to do.
"The door won't open!"
"You have to push it."
Yun-hyeok walked over and pushed the gate open for her.
"Argh... I'm sorry."
Ji Hye-min's face burned so red with embarrassment that it looked as if it would bleed at a single touch.
"I'm sorry!"
She quickly fled out the gate and disappeared into the night.
To think their first meeting in this life would happen like this. Even a fourth-life regressor could never have predicted this.
The next morning, the village elders saw him off at the bus stop. They tried to pack rice cakes and homemade soybean paste for him, but Yun-hyeok politely declined.
"I'm planning to enter politics, so I shouldn't accept gifts like this."
"But you're not a politician yet, are you?"
"I want to get into the habit early."
The village leaders were disappointed, but they didn't force it on him.
"We owe you a huge debt, Young Lee."
"Don't worry about the mayoral election. We'll back you up all the way."
"We'll make sure you get elected, no matter what."
He was grateful, but they seemed a bit too enthusiastic, so he offered a word of caution out of concern.
"You must be careful with election laws."
"Of course!"
"We're experts at that!"
"Don't you worry about a thing!"
Jang Yu-ri and the other Doma Elementary kids also came to see him off.
"Goodbye!"
"Thank you!"
"Mister, come play with us again!"
Having thoroughly captured the hearts of the Doma-myeon residents, Yun-hyeok boarded the bus.
The next time he visited this place, it would be for campaign rallies.
"To think my son would suddenly appear on TV."
It seemed his parents had also seen Doma Elementary School featured on the national news. When he returned home, both of them looked at him with unfamiliar, slightly awed expressions.
"You've set the apartment group chat on fire again."
Yun-hyeok's older sister showed him the apartment residents' group chat. Indeed, it was chaotic. Some said he shouldn't stop at being mayor but should be sent straight to the National Assembly, while others wondered how an ordinary citizen with no administrative authority could pull off such a miracle.
One message stood out in particular:
This was the exact reaction Yun-hyeok had hoped for.
But it was still far from enough.
As Park Dae-man had said, Mir City was not a metropolitan city, but it wasn't a small town either. To become the leader of such a city, winning over apartment residents or rural elders wasn't enough.
"I'm going to head out for a bit."
Yun-hyeok packed his things and headed for the front door again. His mother looked disappointed that her son, who had just returned home after a long time, was leaving immediately.
"Are you leaving without even eating?"
"I'll grab something at a convenience store."
Yun-hyeok visited a local printing shop.
"I'd like to make an outdoor standing sign."
He ordered one that could easily fit in a car trunk. The price was 100,000 won.
It had wheels on the base so it could be moved. This way, even if installed outdoors, the city hall often wouldn't crack down on it because it could be cleared away immediately.
But to be absolutely sure, Yun-hyeok obtained permission from the Urban Design Department of Mir City Hall in advance.
He picked up the finished sign three days later at four in the afternoon.
Yun-hyeok brought the sign to Exit 1 of Mir Station and set it up, choosing a spot that wouldn't obstruct pedestrian traffic.
In front of the sign, he set up a table, a chair, a binder, and a pen.
Five-thirty in the evening.
Office workers heading home began pouring out of the station stairs.
This was the demographic Yun-hyeok was targeting this time.
Office workers commuting to Pangyo.
People think that to become a politician, you need a lot of money, fame, or an established professional career.
But that wasn't actually the case.
Real politics could be done on the street with just a 100,000-won sign, paper, and a pen.
Just like this.
[Independent Political Hopeful Lee Yun-hyeok]
[Petition to Increase Commuter Trains]
He saw passing citizens glancing at the words written on the sign.
And eventually, someone couldn't resist and approached.
It was a young woman.
"What is this petition for?"
"We are surveying subway passenger numbers and congestion levels, and collecting citizen signatures to demand an increase in train runs."
"Wow..."
She shook her head as if merely hearing the words "subway congestion" made her sick.
"I don't know if it'll work, but the Mir-Pangyo Line seriously needs to change. Even among hellish subways, this place is truly severe."
The woman filled out the simple survey.
Since it was not just a simple survey but also a petition, it collected the participant's name, age, address (up to the neighborhood level), and contact information.
"Thank you."
"Will collecting these signatures actually get them to add more trains?"
"Yes. I will submit a citizen-initiated policy proposal to Mir City Hall."
"I hope it goes well."
She left with a brief word of encouragement.
"Are you petitioning to add more trains?"
This time, a man with glasses approached.
"We are running a petition campaign to increase train runs."
"I want to sign too."
A middle-aged woman who looked to be in her early 40s also appeared.
"Give me one of those forms too!"
An uncle carrying a briefcase joined in, huffing with frustration.
And at some point, a line began to form behind the table.
"The Mir-Pangyo Line seriously needs to get its act together."
"They should make those city hall bureaucrats commute on this line too."
"Lee Yun-hyeok? I'll remember your name. Hang in there!"
"Are you a new politician? If you fix just this one thing, I'll vote for you even if you run for president, please!"
Like a flash mob, citizens began to swarm the area.
The collective rage generated by the hellish commute of the Mir-Pangyo Line was being converted into the fuel for Yun-hyeok's political foundation.