Power & Sex, and... 55

Park Maru first contacted Kim Seong-gap, the supreme committee member, Jeong Sang-won, the supreme committee member, and the other National Assembly Reform Alliance members who had been actively involved in the recent party leader incident. He arranged to have lunch with them and asked Kim Sil-jang to reserve a private room at a restaurant.

"Sorry to call you out when you're so busy."

"What are you talking about? When the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠assemblyman whose stock is rising the fastest these days comes calling, how could I be too busy for that?"

"You're making it hard for me to show my face if you say things like that."

After exchanging the usual pleasantries, the food arrived. Once the serving staff had been sent away, he was about to explain the situation to the assemblymen when Kim Sil-jang stood up.

"Why are you getting up, Chief?"

"I'll stand guard outside. Just in case any staff walk by and overhear."

The chief was right, but it didn't sit well with Maru to have his senior—someone who wasn't just any aide but his strongest ally—acting as a doorkeeper. Still, Kim Sil-jang flashed a bright smile, bowed to the assemblymen, and stepped out, closing the door behind him.

"You've got a good secretary there."

"He's not just some aide. Personally, I look up to him like an older brother, and he's my political mentor."

Maru didn't like Kim Seong-gap dismissing him as just a decent secretary, so he introduced him with a sharp edge to his voice. If he didn't set it straight now, these guys would forever lump him in with the dime-a-dozen aides swarming the Members' Office Building. Kim Sil-jang was different, and they needed to understand that loud and clear.

The atmosphere stiffened a bit at his tone, but Maru ignored it. He turned down the laptop speaker to barely audible, inserted one of the CDs from Do Cheol-rak, and played it.

"What? That guy did that? Assemblyman Park, where'd you get this?"

"What the hell does that bastard have to be dissatisfied about?"

The assemblymen erupted in unison, stunned as they watched the video. Maru didn't need to show them everything—just about ten minutes' worth. He ejected the CD, slipped it into his inner pocket, shut the laptop, and called Kim Sil-jang back in. The chief needed to eat lunch too.

"I can't show you all the footage we've secured. But soon enough, the assemblymen caught in those videos will step down from their proportional representation seats one by one, and the district reps will publicly pledge not to run in the next general election."

"You think they'll actually do that?"

"If they don't? If they refuse, we'll have no choice but to release it, even if it hurts the party. It'll end their political careers—and strip them of any human dignity. They won't be able to show their faces anywhere in Korea."

Maru declared it firmly in front of them. This meeting wasn't just about sharing info first; it was a warning that he had the chops to dig up dirt like this, so they should watch themselves. Especially for heavyweights like Kim Seong-gap and Jeong Sang-won—this was a crystal-clear heads-up. They'd never dare draw a knife on him.

"Assemblyman Park, mind if I ask something?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"Where on earth do you get ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠intel like this?"

Park Seong-hwan lobbed a ridiculous question even a kid wouldn't ask. Who in their right mind reveals sources for stuff like this? Especially in a group, and when he hadn't even told Kim Sil-jang—one of the people he trusted most.

The assemblymen finished lunch in a heavy silence and parted ways. Now it was time for divide-and-conquer, but first, he needed to float the trial balloon.

"Reporter Seo."

"Yes, Grandpa Assemblyman."

Seo Dong-beom was getting cheekier with the jokes these days—a sign their bond had deepened.

"Let's grab dinner tonight."

"Should I come up to your office?"

"You at the Assembly? Meet me out front of the Members' Office Building."

Maru picked up Seo in front of the building and drove out of the city.

"Where we headed?"

"Let's head out of town and find a nice spot."

They ended up in Incheon. Maru parked near Songdo Beach and walked down to the shore. Unlike Busan's sandy beaches, this was all pebbles—hardly a beach in the classic sense.

"Grandpa Assemblyman, why drag me all the way to a beach? Gonna catch some fish and make sashimi?"

"Yeah, got a bunch of lowlifes to gut."

"Huh?"

"Reporter Seo, starting next Wednesday, a good number of our party's senior assemblymen will announce they're stepping back to nurture the next generation—no run in the general election. A few proportional reps will resign outright."

"Assemblyman, what the—?"

Seo blurted it out in shock, his face lit by the sodium lamps, eyes wide like saucers.

"It's time to clean out the human trash from the party. Just between us, we've got proof these guys—posing as party elders—have been moles for the other side, the Blue House, and the agencies."

"Is that for real? Why not just blow it all open? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠That'd be way more effective."

"The party could implode. After agonizing over it, we settled on voluntary resignations and no-run pledges."

"How many?"

"Twenty-three."

"Twenty-three? That's enough to form a negotiating bloc."

"Tell me about it."

"What if they don't play ball?"

"They won't have a choice. Unless they're animals with no family, they can't risk it."

"Any guess who?"

"That's why I called you. They'll start acting Wednesday, so float the balloon ahead of time."

Maru handed over the list of the twenty-three video stars. Seo checked it under the light, staring at Maru in disbelief. No surprise—even Maru wouldn't have bought it without seeing the footage himself.

Maru lit a cigarette, exhaling a long plume toward the sky. Seo, feeling the weight, lit one too. After a long silence, he spoke gravely.

"Assuming you've got proof, is it ironclad?"

"Yes. Don't worry—it's not circumstantial. We've got videos of their own conversations."

"Can I see it?"

A fair ask from a reporter. With solid confirmation, they'd bet their lives on a story. Maru couldn't hand over the CD, but showing it would arm Seo with the conviction to fight.

"Reporter Seo, beyond the trial balloon, will you promise off the record on this?"

"Yes, I swear on my conscience."

"You know this could put you in danger."

"I do."

No more words needed. They left the beach for a quiet nearby restaurant. Once the owner cleared the table, locked up, and left, Maru fired up the laptop and played the CD. Seo watched stone-faced, then signaled he'd seen enough. Maru closed it quietly.

"Gonna have to drop the spoon at least. If it gets really dirty, might cost your life."

"That's why you just float the balloon. Worst case, name me as the source—no problem."

"A trial balloon won't be too risky, like you said. But if you confront them directly, you're poking ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sacred cows. You sure?"

"I'm a politician. I won't go at them head-on."

"Anyway, stay sharp. Don't let your guard down."

They wrapped up in the heavy mood, exchanging knowing glances over cold food. Maru felt a new, unbreakable bond forming between them.

Back at the office, the aides were still burning the midnight oil on their tasks. Maru went to his room, copied the CD contents onto USBs—five sets for emergencies—pocketed them, and pondered where to stash them.

It was Lee Hoe-jang on the line. Maru hadn't properly greeted him amid the chaos, so he agreed to visit. Hanging up, it hit him: stash the originals at the chairman's place. No matter how mighty the state power, they wouldn't shake the chaebols propping up Korea's economy without hard proof. He rushed to seal the CDs in the vinyl pouches he'd ordered for reports, slipped one into his inner pocket, and headed out.